I was floating in an empty space that I suspected was where people stay after death. There was, while I was alive, a very peculiar anime called Death Note. In one of the rules of such an artifact it said that the human whose name is in that book will die and that the human who writes names in that book cannot go to heaven or hell for eternity. Interestingly, I don't see white clouds and child angels with naked bodies flying around with harps in their hands.
I imagined my ghostly self entering a golden gate and walking down a gleaming white tile road, with sacred lampposts following my steps until I passed and entered a giant hall where a man the size of a mountain was waiting for me. with a book telling the story of my life. In this story all my sins and virtues would be reported (if I have any) and then the giant man would present himself as God, the Christian god since I followed the common Christian religion in my country, and then he would say that I would be forgiven if spend a few centuries in purgatory to cleanse my corrupted soul. After a relatively long period of purification, I would then be sent to paradise where I would drink the nectar of the gods and eat ambrosia until I killed myself for coma food.
Instead I was here, wherever here is.
To be honest, I wasn't surprised. Working for organized crime, even though I'm coerced into it, makes it kind of hard to redeem myself and go to heaven. I had hurt many innocent people with my actions and inactions. There were even cases where I witnessed heinous crimes without speaking against it. Like that time when one of the most dangerous drug dealers in our group kidnapped a 23-year-old girl and took her in front of all her fellow criminals (and me) just to show how long it lasted without coming. It is said that the time was ridiculous, only 4 minutes and he squirmed as he ejaculated his vile seed on the poor girl. The disgusting part was that he offered the girl to the others for later enjoyment.
Still, I was waiting for red flames and tridents stuck in my sphincter and not an empty, empty place with no one to talk to… was this my version of hell? This should be my punishment, right? The burning hell? I didn't think I deserved to be in this lonely place. It was too good. Would I spend eternity in solitude here? I'm not sure if this qualifies as punishment after all I was a sad otaku who was also a neet. Loneliness was my middle name and I was content to be away from all the people ruffling the clown for some lightly tagged hentai (more in the erotic romance category) since I didn't like NTR and its variants.
Of course, I had watched some hentai netori and netorare before and, like any good man of culture, I was satisfied and excited by everything, but there was only one condition for that. I didn't identify with the man whose wife was being robbed, shared, or raped... anyway, I was the bad guy who steals a neighbor's wife when he goes to work.
Of course only in my post hentai fantasy.
I was getting off the subject here. Staying in this place wasn't bad, actually. Silent. Dark. There was no discomfort of any kind. I felt so at home actually. It was like my basement of otaku stuff without the otaku stuff. I felt no loss here. Anyway, I was dead. The good part? I still had my body. Or soul-body, I don't know. I could also touch myself so I could distract myself by reminiscing about some of my best hidden moments and ease my tension with my right hand...and left when the right hand cramp comes. Yes, I was able to feel here. I couldn't breathe, but I could feel my own touch. Maybe souls could interact with souls? Who knows. What matters is that it didn't make sense. Could I just enjoy eternity masturbating? Was that my punishment? No pain?
Don't misunderstand, I wasn't a masochist, but was that it?
It was while I was thinking about it that a certain disturbance rippled in the surrounding space before a roulette wheel simply sprang up in front of me as if it were nothing unusual. Accompanying the roulette wheel was a kind of transparent creature with no visible features. Silver Surfer? Or invisible surfer? Transparent surfer? I am not sure.
At least my hands and younger brother worked. I knew this because I still felt my soul's erection hanging in my crotch...
Now that I realized I was naked. Well, it wasn't like there were clothes in the shape of a soul, right? I figured that being born naked and appearing naked in soul form was, rationally speaking, logical. Anyway, I placed my hand firmly around the semi-rigid phallus and waited for some reaction from him. And he reacted. Yes, life in this emptiness wouldn't be a problem if I could enjoy my hand like that.
I looked at the roulette wheel and saw three different hands... curious. Did that mean three skills? If yes, was it random? But... sigh... never mind. I'll just hope things work out this time and just let go. I was good at it...