After AnimeCon 2: The Hole in his Soul

    Release after ardent release emptied Brian out in dozens upon dozens of surging throbs, and then the desire to simply pass out scrabbled at the edges of his consciousness with claws of exhaustion. It felt like he’d poured everything into this, the full weight of his sweaty figure was draped across Christine, and it felt like his cock had melted into a rich, warm goopy pool where their lower bodies used to be. His muscles had a pleasant soreness to them, and as Brian wrestled with grogginess and tried to lift himself up, he felt his arms shaking.

    Beneath him, Christine was completely passed out.

    He felt—strange.

    Like he was hoarse and ragged from screaming out in rage, but rather than his actual throat, it was the fraying thrum of his psyche after emptying out emotion he had spent out here. He didn’t hate Christine—or maybe his love and hate for her had found a happy equilibrium—and as if to prove it to himself, he combed a tangle of silver tresses out of the way and pressed a small kiss upon her neck.

    Oh thank fucking God, she’s still breathing.

    Part of him wanted to laugh and another part of him wanted to cry, and his aching dick let out another last small splurt of semen into Christine. His balls had gone cold, and he felt so completely hollowed out that it was a struggle to even extricate himself from inside of her. She was clamped down on him firmly enough that he had to pin her in place with both hands upon her buttocks before he was able to pull back out of her—and when he finally did so, he couldn’t help but level a blank stare at the ridiculous aftermath. Cum was everywhere, it dripped down from her pussy in a continuous gooey strand, and even more slid down both of Christine’s inner legs like rivulets of melting wax. Actual deep pools formed in the space between their bodies that began to slop down across the couch cushions as Brian shifted his knee out of the mess and pulled back.

    This is—uhhh? Brian wasn’t able to process what he was seeing for a time. This is a lot? Holy fuck. I thought that even at worst it would be like, that jar again? This seems like… someone poured out several of those big jars. What the actual fuck? Where does all of this stuff even COME from?!

    “—Brian!” A sudden nearby whisper made Brian jolt.

    “Emily?! Jesus,” Brian tried to relax upon seeing her standing behind the sofa, but it was hard not to feel self-conscious of the sordid scene he had created, here. “Uhh. Are you—”

    “Is she dead?!” Emily squeaked, leaning over and tugging at Christine’s shoulder in search of a response. “Did you—?! Holy shit, man look at all this. Are you fuckin’ serious right now?! Bro damn, you fucked her uppp.”

    “I uhh—” Brian tried to formulate some kind of excuse, but none materialized. “No, you.”

    “No, you!” Emily giggled. “Look at all this! Should I get like, a spoon? A shovel? Jesus. May I?!”

    “Uhhh—” Brian closed his eyes as that insistent wave of tiredness continued to press down on him until he was sagging back on the other side of the couch.

    “Pretty please?” Emily scooped up an entire handful with a cupped hand and slurped it up before he could answer. “Hwwewssshhh, fussffhh. This is like—this is. Man, this is the stuff. Holy shit, man, and like, this stuff comes outta you?! Hold on, I’m grabbin’ some tupperware. You’ve got some containers somewhere bro, right? Wait, where’d we put those other jars—”

    “Emily,” Brian managed to say.

    “Y-yeah, boss?” Emily smacked her lips as she swiped up some more cum. Her eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, her pupils dilated wide and he could practically feel magical energy burning its way into her synapses. “Mm, Mmhh—”

    “Emily… c’mere for a second,” Brian asked. “Please?”

    “You okay?” Emily demanded, hurrying around the couch. “What’s—”

    “No, I. No, not really. I’ve got like… a huge fuckin’ hole in me?” Brian rumbled, patting his chest. “Right fucking here. Uhh, but it’s dreamscape-wise? She, uh, Christine was all wanting to help me get out this buncha stuff I’d been… not dealin’ with, and. Ughhh. That was rough? I need—I need you? Don’t think I can just cover this up like I used to, so for now… we can try filling it up? As like, a stopgap? With your river.”

    “Uh, yeah, yeah,” Emily nodded quickly. “Cool beans. I’m down?”

    “You’re naked,” Brian observed with a stare. “Nice.”

    “Uhh I mean yeah, thanks!” Emily let out a self-conscious laugh, huddling her shoulders in for a moment and bringing her hands up to cover herself, and then dropping them and pretending to preen at his attention. “Soo—yeah how do we do all that stuff you just said? Make out sesh?”

    “I—” Brian paused. “Have no fuckin’ clue. I’m uhh, I’m pretty spent.”

    “Kissy kissy?” Emily suggested. “We can just like, tap into the mind thing? Login, or whatever? We can just—we can just fuckin’ make out?! For real?!”

    “For real,” Brian gave her a tired nod.

    “For realsies?!” Emily did a little dance that made her small breasts bounce. “Hah, sorry. I just. Wow wow wow. Wowie. This stuff like, gets me so fuckin’ high?! Super fuckin’ high. I feel like uhh, like I could just do a little hop, and float right the fuck away? Float off into the sunset. Cotton candy cloud o’ blue, just kinda driftin’ ‘cross the silver skies?!”

    “Cool, yeah,” Brian breathed out a sigh of relief. “So you can sense the uhh—the Christine parts of all that?”

    “Oh dude, hell yeah I can,” Emily gave him a rapid nod. “Like—bro I can taste it. S’gotta kind of grit to it, a silver fuckin’ sharpness like it’s pop rock snapping ‘cross my tongue. This shit is choice. Top notch. Grade A—no, like, grade SSS! There’s this flavor of you that holds it all together that’s—”

    “Hah, okay, okay then,” Brian chuckled. “Keep your secrets, then. If you’re just gonna make up—”

    “No, I’m for real,” Emily insisted with a laugh. “This whole thing is like, my fetish. I love love luurve seeing you bring out your dark side. Especially when it has to do with Chloe. It’s like—it’s like finally getting a bunch of wishes answered. I was fuckin’ wishing upon a star that this would happen like this. That one day she’d push you too far, and finally get what’s coming to her. And, man oh man, did she ever?!”

    “Okay,” Brian said.

    “Okay, what do you mean, OKAY?!” Emily giggled.

    “Emmie I’m like—fighting to stay conscious right now,” Brian admitted. “Even hearing you babble it’s like I’m slipping away—or uhh, lapsing into a dream?”

    “Oooh yeah right right right, sorry,” Emily nodded again with a big grin. “What can I do to help?! Send you off with a kiss? Like I’m a uh, reverse prince charming? Princess Charming? No wait, reverse. Princess—uh. Anti-charming? Repugnant? That’s a word, right? Repelling? Re—”

    “Emily,” Brian put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not repugnant. You’re Princess Tugboat.”

    “Nooo, no, shit man I never shoulda even told you that,” Emily groaned. “Alright alright, fine. Focus time. Game face on! Butter them chops, ‘cause we’re about to—” 

    “Uh. Just to warn you—like it’s pretty dark down there,” Brian paused. “Lotta dark shit I uh. Wasn’t dealing with.”

    “Bro, same.” Emily said. “Even like, perfect. Bottom of my rivery kinda thing’s completely like that same way, too. My riverbed. Riverabed. S’littered with the sunken bones of all o’ my failures. So. Match made in heaven? I was, hah, hey I was looking for a place to hide all that shit! The stuff I really can’t deal with. I’ll just uhhh, pour it all into you? My badbrains stuff can chill with your badbrains stuff? If that’s cool? You up for just havin’ like, a little lake of repressed Emily stuff in there? ‘Cause like—yeah, sold. S’all yours.”

    “Emily,” Brian said. “Kiss me. Now.”

    “Yessir!” Emily giggled.

* * *

    Without a care for the cum splattered everywhere, Emily hopped up on the sofa, straddled across Christine’s legs, and darted in for a kiss with Brian. Her lips met his for a quick preamble smooch… but before she could even pull away, the blue suffusing Emily’s mind began to rush and she found herself completely unable to stop. Her inner channel of magic had always been in motion, meandering along a path she didn’t really understand at a lazy, tepid pace. With the sudden acceleration of that stream, tickles of blue were being drawn up from her thighs to her tummy with increasing speed, shimmering bubbles were being forced up her body towards where their lips met.

    Ohhhh my God oh my God oh OH OH OHHHHH—!??!!!

    Connecting her magic with Brian released the river, all of the blue inside her surged forward at alarming, uncontrollable speed. It was as if the typically tranquil ease of the earthen canal beneath her had suddenly dropped at a precipitous angle and she was now running ragged across a newly unearthed coarse mess that turned her clear blue into turbulent, foaming rapids of brilliant color.

    The sensual synesthesia didn’t stop there, though, and Emily could feel her magic outside of her body as it poured into Brian with urgency. The stark change in the course of her river should have been disorienting or alarming, but instead there was only giddy anticipation, it was the heady fervor of excitement rushing and rushing and rushing—and then there was a sharp fall.

   An exceptionally vibrant squirt of blue splurted across her brain, and Emily gently bit Brian’s lip and whimpered into his mouth.

    Even freefall felt good, more than good, it was amazing—liberating, as if all sorts of feelings she had tamped down on for too long were finally being set free, aerating, and not only free—these were lifewaters that her Brian desperately needed to help replenish his reservoir.

    The tumbling power of thousands upon thousands of gallons surging down the uneven slope and then shooting off that sheer cliff edge to hurdle down, down, down into darkness. There was a hole in Brian’s soul, and Emily squirmed as she made out with Brian, because her tummy seized with that uncanny sense of weightlessness for a long, plunging moment. Her nascent sense for her dreamscape river had felt through a lot of weird different things, but never a sheer drop like this—the waters were falling and falling down through nothing but empty air.

    Holy shit. HOLY SHIT.

    Then, they hit bottom in a thunderous crash of surf that sprayed in all directions, knocking Emily senseless. The smooth, softened familiar lines of her Brian here were jagged and angular with rage, hate, and pain—great dark cavities had been carved away throughout the deep. Her magic fundamentally wasn’t something that would shatter into different pieces like Christine, however—and with steadfast glee the amorphous Emily immediately rushed everywhere to fill every empty gap. She was a constant swirling rush pouring down into him, and she could feel every nook and cranny of Brian’s psychological wound as she swept in.

    Oh, Brian… Brian you’ve suffered so much, Emily’s eyes were squeezed tightly closed but she felt tears escaping anyways. It’s okay, Brian. It’s okay, now. Everything’s going to be alright! I’m here—I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

    Dry and inhospitable stone quarries where something had been ruthlessly strip-mined out of Brian were flooded with the love of someone who sympathized with his situation on an incredibly intimate level. Emily had longed to be this for him for years. Their kiss broke, but the sensation of pooling magic shared between them didn’t dissipate, and for a long minute they simply rested their foreheads together, trying to catch their breath. The magic of whatever this was turned out to be a lot to digest, and both of them needed a moment to collect themselves as the blue filling Brian’s barren emptiness began to reach a new equilibrium.

* * *

    “I—sorry,” Brian sighed. “That. That couldn’t have been fun.”

    “Brian, no!” Emily sniffled. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t be. I’m, I’m just glad I can—well. I could feel it help, I LOVE feeling like I help. Needed to. Needed to be here. To do something.”

    “Are you okay?” Brian asked.

    “Are YOU okay?!” Emily retorted. “Jackass. Jerkface. Stupid sexy Brianhead.”

    “I…” Brian sighed. “I don’t know. That thing with Christine—it wasn’t… pleasant? Uh, I mean yeah I guess physically it was… yeah it felt good to do. To do to her. But, at the same time, that’s what made it so unpleasant? Don’t like seeing that side of myself. Don’t like her drawing out that side of myself. But, then. I don’t know. Also at the same time I guess, I think maybe all of that was necessary. Overdue, even. I don’t know.”

    “I… saw some of it,” Emily admitted, giving him a quick kiss of reassurance. “From what—well, from whatever point she started getting loud? I rushed over to see, was all worked up. Like, I thought you guys were fighting? I dunno! Was just my like, first instinct when I woke up and thought somethin’ was goin’ on out here. Come out and help you throw hands!

“But, instead you both were uhh—damn. Instead, she was getting porked. Really porked. You were fucking her super rough, like, damn, bro. Had her squealing and moaning all animal-like, and. Well, fuck man, s’not like I’m about to just turn around and go back to bed after seeing that? C’mon. Shit, honestly I shoulda grabbed my phone? Saved some for later.”

    “Did I seem… off, to you?” Brian asked. “Or, like I wasn’t myself? Did I seem scary?”

    “No,” Emily shook her head. “You were just—you’re Brian. My Brian. You’re Brian. I don’t think you ever even could feel off or scary? However you are, whatever you’re like, that’s how you should be. To me. Call me biased, but uh. Yeah. Honestly, seein’ you fuck her up like that? Holy shit. Kinda hot? It definitely uh. Shivered me timbers.”

    “It shivered your timbers,” Brian repeated. “Hah. Emily—”

    “What?!” Emily grinned and gave him another quick kiss. “BroOOoo, listen I’m high off my gourd right now. I feel like I just uhhh emergency vented all my problems I didn’t want to deal with, into you? Except, while for me that was bad stuff that def needed drained out and dealt with, for you it was like—reactor coolant? Does that even make sense? Cave coolant? Fuck man, I dunno. Just. You needed to deal with your uh. Your whatever? Your way things work in your head? I don’t fuckin’ even know! I’m high as balls, man.”

    “We all fit together in really suspicious ways?” Brian mused with a yawn.

    “Yep yep,” Emily nodded. “Yepsie depsie. Yep yeppers.”

    “I had like… this pocket of Bad Brian, buried deep down,” Brian explained. “Couldn’t even fully see how bad it was, until Christine—well. Mirror shit. Kinda showed me some of the worst of myself.”

    “Did you have like, cliche conversations with this super menacing Bad Brian?!” Emily demanded. “Dark Brian? Whatever? ‘We’re the same, you and I. I am your darker half. Give in to your anger, and your journey to the dark side will be complete!’ Bro you should totally fuck Christine in front of a mirror. I mean—c’mon that’s just science. Odds are like, six to one that your reflections start acting like different uhh, dark versions of yourselves? Ten to one. Wait, do we have any big mirrors? Besides the one in the bathroom?”

    “Nah, and just—nahhh,” Brian chuckled, letting his heavy eyelids slip down. “Maybe Christine gets into that kinda cliche? In her mental whatever-it-is with the charm. But, with me? There wasn’t a like. Separation. Between the good me, and the bad me. It was just like she was making me realize all of the bad me I didn’t want to think about. Felt super shitty? Was uh. Fuck. Rage-inducing, actually. Made me want to just blow up at her.”

    “Instead, you blew up in her,” Emily said. “You blew like, sixty fuckin’ loads in her, all at once. Literally gallons. Shit’s crazy.”

    “It—it wasn’t sixty,” Brian tried to argue. “It was like. Sixteen? Sixteen loads, tops.”

    “Bruh,” Emily’s eyebrows went up. “I just realized.”

    “Hm?”

    “She’s probably been off her birth control, because of—because of the whole last month tied up out in the woods,” Emily pointed out. “You just knocked her the fuck up.”

    “Shut up,” Brian retorted. “Stop it.”

    “No, for real—you make sure she takes a day after thing tomorrow,” Emily warned him. “They’re in Kelly’s purse. Purse pills. You gotta remember.”

    “Alright,” Brian sighed again. “Wait—shit.”

    “Yeah.”

    “No, I mean shit—speaking of remembering,” Brian said. “Where’s all that stuff you had written on our arms?”

    “Uhhh,” Emily brought her arm up for inspection to discover only a slight smudge of ink remained. “Fuuuuck. You’re right. Fucking charm. Where is that fucker, anyways?! Still in your pants?”

    “I think it’s—yeah,” Brian grabbed halfheartedly at his jeans which had been pushed down onto the floor in front of the sofa. “Should be? Still here. Right here.”

    “Gimme,” Emily insisted.

    “Yeah, sure,” Brian yawned again. “Emily?”

    “Yeah?”

    “G’night—” Brian let his chin rest on his shoulder and allowed himself to relax.

    “Brian? Brian!” Emily gave him a poke. “Hey, I can uhh, I can clean you guys up, right? That’s not weird, is it? And I needed like a bit more juice to get my magic goin’ for my special power thing, so. But it’s not JUST for that! Honestly I um, I kind of always wanted to suck you off while you were sleeping? No homo! Hah, I mean. Not… completely homo? I’m not gonna like slurp it outta her, uhh. Her stupid cunt. I mean, temptiiiing! But. Damn, I’m not that desperate, right? I’ll just say she earned that bit, and she can keep it? For now. But like, all the rest? And—I mean there’s just so much, there’s all this mess everywhere anyways just splattered around, sooo—Brian? Hey! Brian?”

    “Go for it?” Brian mumbled. “Have at, Princess Tugboat. Permission to dish in. Be my… guest? Get s’much as you can, before the magic disappears it all? Hahhh… goodnight, Emmie.”

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