Dropping Acid with My Daddy
Expanded Consciousness
Of course, Daddy, Gina and I continue to enjoy various hallucinogenic chemicals. We ingest. We relax. We take intergalactic journeys while sitting in comfortable chairs or laying quietly on solid ground. Wrapped in thick cotton comforters, sitting in large Adirondack chairs, on the porch of a cabin in Upper Michigan, on a high, pine tree cliff, overlooking the vast, wind-blown waves of Lake Superior, three mind-travelers ingest acid. The first thing I notice are two northern river otters, far below us on the sandy beach, each lazy mammal stretched out in the late afternoon sun, each over three feet long. Looking at them, I feel a warm wave of comfort, as if I was in an otter’s skin, well-fed on small carp and stickleback, easy to catch, little fish. Perhaps for special dinners, once a week, I fill up on a fat, tasty lake trout. I am happy with my life, food easy to get, few predators and plenty of time to play with my friends. My cozy otter thoughts move out into the water, two feet below the surface, among the stems of cattails and reeds, I am a northern pike, quiet and still in dark water, my large jaws ready, ready to smile and snap quick on unsuspecting perch or chub. I am a cool customer, a philosophic predator, 40 inches of muscle and teeth, the king of my domain. I am in no hurry. I wait, I know stupid, little, distracted fish will swim by, soon enough, chattering gossip with each other, too busy to notice me in deep shadows. Snap! It doesn’t take me more than a few hours to fill my belly. There are hundreds of stupid, distracted fish in this lake. My cunning pike thoughts, fade as I look up. Through the pike’s eyes I see an osprey. I see talons. My own osprey talons, sharp, out-stretched, vice grips.
The stunned northern pike, now pierced by my claws, held tight, with no escape. Flapping hard, I lift him, I pull him up with me, as I rise, rise as the smelly bastard squirms. He’s still got life in him. But not for long. Up, up I glide to my nest in a tall pine tree. My babies wait for me.
Mother to three endlessly hungry predator chicks. I slap down the big fish, and my babies dig in! An entirely responsible parent, I will soon teach my two sons and my daughter how to hunt large fish. My baby-daddy remains entirely involved in our lives. He will teach our children to hunt small and midsize fish, as well as rabbits and fat squirrels. My handsome lover stays close, ready to protect us from pirate eagles, attempting to steal our food or eat our chicks. Those big bastards are territorial, pushing us out if they want a piece of hunting water exclusively for themselves. Pirate bastards!
My thoughts leave the osprey nest, and grow calm once more. I soon forget my rush of righteous osprey anger. I am gliding swiftly, near the cliffs, my small mouth wide open, swallowing mosquitoes and other small bugs, as I demonstrate acrobatic flight, dips and fast turns no jet fighter airplane could ever accomplish. I am the master of flight, a cliff swallow in a colony of 70 nests, grouped closely, and intentional community, attached to rocks, high above the water. We love to sing. At times, 50 small voices all at once! Louder than a swamp of bullfrogs!
My small brain has no room for universal truths, or difficult moral choices. No room for anything besides aviation, instinctive migration, and food, food, food. My small brain responsible enough to feed and raise my children, and that is more than enough for my two-year life span. In fact, I am more personally responsible in two years than some humans are in forty years!
What a wonderful thought! A swallow with higher moral values than much of humanity! With these thoughts, I swallow the swallow, I swallow my experience as an otter, a pike, and an osprey. I swallow my human pride. I cringe, and swallow the bitter pill of reality, knowing for a fact: the contrived world of humans is full of pirates and hypocrisy, full of threats to survival from my own species!
Other species do not threaten my daily existence as much as humans do. I am under constant threat of being made a slave to the agendas of people richer, and more powerful than myself. They need millions of slaves. And, being young and pretty and female, barely out of poverty, looking for an economic niche, I am an easy target. I am a small, tasty perch to a pike, smiling in the shadows.
I return to the human world, and glance at Gina, and glance at my Daddy. I am so very lucky to be loved as they love me. Daddy’s eyes are wide open. His face is blissful, calm, satisfied, exactly as he looks after shooting cream for me, after he has seen my jolting orgasms. Daddy told me later, he traveled far past the quiet, blue evening sky.
Even before the sun went down, before stars appeared, before the full moon rose, Daddy saw through the veil of blue, as if riding a star-cruiser, a one-man transport vessel, with quiet anti-gravity propulsion, he shot quickly from his Adirondack chair, past Earth’s atmosphere. He heard the sound of Lake Superior waves, splashing up against granite, as if that elemental power and that sound lifted him, weightless out of his chair, in a safe, warm bubble of fresh air. He shot like a comet, straight up, past three, puffy, white late summer clouds, past the blue into the endless black of space. With no loss of speed, he shot up, and past the huge glowing Moon.
The Moon laughed at him. As if to say, “Look at that! Another little human.” The Moon is good-natured. Her comment only meaning, she had seen that before. Many times. She notices, and smiles each time a hallucinating human shoots by on the way to Mars, or Jupiter, or Alpha Centauri. To her, these are not hallucinations at all. They are physical excursions of living minds, bold and fragile explorers from Earth, adventurous minds darting off to distant parts of our galaxy, and beyond our galaxy. Daddy’s mind expanded to take in a view as wide as the night sky in midsummer in Montana. Wider. No longer held by the gravitation of limited human imagination, Daddy heard planets holding a conversation with each other.
Midway between Mars and Jupiter, the mighty gas giant cleared his throat, he coughed, as if he had taken a large hit of weed, then spoke in a deep and resonant voice: “I say there! My good little friend! Mars, are you awake?” Mars, startled from a nap, giggled, “Oh, big brother, you caught me with my pants down! I was dreaming about our hot little sister, Venus. I love this time of year, when she swings close! Her warm clouds tingle my outer atmosphere, when the solar wind is just right. I get a taste of her molten lead and titanium. It makes my big volcanoes quiver. I blast molten lava, nickel and sulfur, into my deep caverns.”
Jupiter replied, “Oh, Mars. We have all lusted for our little sister. Ten billion years ago, I would have absorbed her completely, vaporized her into my swirling atmosphere. Now I am a fast-spinning, swinger grand-dad, with no real place to go. I spin my massive self, a full-axis rotation, every ten Earth-hours, snorting far too much coke.
It takes me 11 Earth-years to travel around the sun. Our lovely Venus takes longer to turn on her axis, than to travel around the sun. It takes her 243 Earth-days to get out of bed, to rotate once on her warm, little axis.”
Mars laughed, “Oh big brother, you have always been my hero! Huge, fast and mysterious! I got no atmosphere at all compared to you! I will never stop lusting for our sexy, slow-moving sister. She shakes her warm little axis, smooth and easy. I am glad she rotates slowly. I get to enjoy her from every angle!”
My daddy, laughed and laughed, to hear the incestuous lust of planets. All an impossible fantasy of course. Each male planet locked tight inside their orbits, with no chance at all to have sexual intercourse with lovely, slow-moving, seductive Venus. As planets talk loudly with each other, stars whisper. At first, Daddy did not notice. He heard a rustling, and believed it was our own Sun, far off, far past the little speck called, Earth, our Sun burping, belching plasma, ejaculating a spurt of solar wind. This was not the case. Truthfully, the star Proxima Centauri was whispering to the red dwarf, Wolf 359. Both were upset by the flirty rotation of the Milky Way galaxy. Proxima Centauri, said quietly, “She has always been a show-off, with all her arms stretched out. She’s the most slutty galaxy in our end of the Universe.” Wolf 359 is always shy to gossip about galaxies. Being a dwarf-star he has some inferiority issues. He doesn’t even like to gossip about orange or red giants. He replied, “Yes, my neighbors tell me Miss Milky Way is already writing her memoirs, she’s looking forward to colliding with Andromeda in about four billion years. She wants big, handsome Andromeda to blast a few thousand stars inside her. Andromeda, he’s a sensible cosmic entity. Andromeda says, Miss Milky Way is slightly unstable. He is hoping to head off in some other direction, and stay as far away from her as possible.”
Daddy came home with several other stories like this one.
Gina’s trip was much different from mine, and much closer to home than Daddy’s trip. Gina told me her
attention was drawn to the waves of Lake Superior. She watched the motion of waves, one hundred yards out, three and four foot waves, pushed by gusts of wind. She watched the water, and listened to crashing water, large waves thrown hard against granite boulders, forty feet beneath us, roaring, in sharp contrast to the quiet stretch of beach, where the two otters basked in the sun. The otters on a strand, arching off to the right, fifty or more yards away from the cluster of boulders, at the base of our cliff. Sometimes, spray from the boulders shot up twenty feet into the air. The sight and sound of moving water filled Gina’s mind, a growing uneasiness, restless conflicting emotions, perhaps sexual desire, perhaps self-doubt, possibly both, swirling inside her, causing her to squirm, to snuggle down into her thick comforter, as if warm cotton could protect her tender emotions from fear. That was the core of it. She felt the helpless fear of a woman falling in love, a woman falling in love with another woman. A beautiful young woman, abused by men, abused enough to give up on men entirely. Her romantic and sexual interest now exclusively feminine. Her romantic and sexual interest, now exclusively directed toward me. As new lovers, Gina feels the normal, honest fear of any person falling in love with another person.
What if I do not love her enough to stay in her life? What if other circumstances intrude and interrupt our new romance? What if I decide, I really want cocks again, and her lovely, delicious, wonderful vagina is not enough to satisfy me? My sweet, beautiful, sensitive Gina worries about all these negative possibilities. She is not confident enough in herself, nor secure in our new love, to know, I am also in love with her. And her uneasy, restless fears have no basis in reality. I am joyful and satisfied with her. There is no reason for my love to wander, to drift away from her. I am more bisexual than lesbian, but cocks are somewhat repulsive to me right now. I have sucked plenty of cocks in the past two years, and had a few pounding inside me. No big loss leaving those dangling demands in the past. I could probably live happily without them for the rest of my life. I still enjoy the strength of warm, reliable masculinity. I love my Daddy’s little cock. And his honest, urgent sexual desire. I love his male strength, the male self-confidence of his personality. But, I don’t really need any penises to get me off. My beautiful Gina, and my buzzing vibrators are plenty. Daddy gets me off, because I love my daddy. Other men, well, they are mostly just a nuisance, or a way to make money.
This was the emotional context for the beginning of Gina’s acid trip. But, it soon got much more fun! Within the swirling uneasiness, another emotion blossomed inside her, like a lotus flower opening in time-lapse video, small bud to full-bloom in less than one minute. A full-bloom pink lotus flower, with a golden core, this was her joy, with wide petals of calmness. She saw this happen. In her vision, relentless black and white waves morphed into a full color forest pond, with warm green and white lilies, pink and yellow lotus flowers, and bright-colored koi.
Gina’s vision grew wide, now walking on a forest path, among tropical ferns and flowers, under a canopy of large-leaf trees, she noticed bright orange and yellow mushrooms, stacked like plates, attached to some trees. The path led to a pond, larger than the first pond, also covered with lotus and lily flowers, with groups of koi, orange and white, yellow and blue, bright red. The dirt path ended at a wooden walkway, a raised platform, perhaps a foot above the surface of the pond. Birds, similar to birds-of-paradise with long tails, sat on gnarled, brown and black low branches. In groups of two or three, they rose to glide over the pond. Their voices were not the harsh sound of parrots. Their voices were subtle and melodious, like wood thrushes and veery thrushes. Unlike most bird-songs, with short chirps from two to five seconds, these graceful, multicolored, blue-green, yellow, black and white birds sang for fifteen to twenty seconds non-stop.
The wooden walkway ended in the center of the pond, at a bamboo and plank hut. Open on two sides, with a thatched roof, and four wide wooden benches inside, In her vision, Daddy and I lay on two of the five benches. Our heads rested on embroidered blue silk pillows, decorated with intricate flower and bird designs. Hearing her approach, Daddy opened his eyes, sat up smiling, and waved to Gina. Daddy touched my arm lightly, to wake me. I also sat up, and waved to Gina. Daddy stood and walked to a back wall, removing a light green dragon robe hanging there. He spread it wide, to show Gina the golden dragon embroidered on the back, and said, “Gina, my love, come, take off your dusty clothes. Put this on and join us in meditation.” Gina removed her clothes, dropping them in a pile at her feet.
I felt a thrill of joy, seeing her naked, as if I had not seen her for a long time. She came to me, sat next to me and kissed my mouth. Then she sat next to Daddy. Hugging him warmly, she said, “Where are we? How long have we been apart? I feel I haven’t seen you or Beth for months.”
Daddy replied, “I have know idea. I remember us, being wrapped in thick cotton comforters, sitting in large Adirondack chairs, on the porch of a cabin in Upper Michigan, on a high, pine tree cliff, overlooking the vast, wind-blown waves of Lake Superior. Then, Gina and I were here. I do not know where we are. I would guess we are in a Buddhist dream. It looks like Southeast Asia, with oriental gardens and designs.” I added, “I have not opened my eyes until now. But I know I have been listening to the water and the birds for a day or two. Strange, I have not been thirsty or hungry. All my attention has been at peace, listening to the water and the birds.” Gina said, “Perhaps, this is a shared hallucination. All three of us, in the same dream at the same time.” Daddy laughed, “I am all for that! My favorite two girls, with me in a warm, quiet place. Apparently, Daddy had explored the walls of the hut. He went directly to a cabinet, concealed behind a large potted fern. He brought back, three incense sticks, a carved jade holder, matches and a jar of lemon lotion.
Daddy placed the three incense sticks upright in small holes in the jade jaguar head, and lit them. He said,
“Let’s sit on those cushions, near the edge of the deck. Gina remove your robe. Beth, remove your robe, and lay your head in Gina’s lap.” We did this, and Daddy sat cross-legged at my feet. He took my feet onto his lap, and massaged them with lemon-scented lotion.
As Gina leaned over me, I nuzzled my face between
Gina’s small, warm breasts. Full of joy. Full of joy!
One at a time, I took each of her nipples into my mouth, sucking them erect. Gina held my breasts in her small, strong hands, kneading them, needing me. It would be obvious to anyone viewing this scene, the two young women needed each other, and Daddy needed the two young women. Our shared sensual pleasure is the joy of people who love each other. More tender, more permanent, more satisfying than the joy of people with short-term sexual intentions. Our sexual intentions go on and on, a renewal and reminder of our love for each other, across months, potentially across years.
Any sensitive, mature and intelligent viewer would notice, seeing us together, nude on a deck, in the middle of an Asian pond covered with lotus and lily flowers, with groups of koi, orange and white, yellow, blue, and bright red swimming slowly beneath us… any sensitive viewer would instantly know: These three people adore each other. Their love radiates. For people who read auras, bands of loving and compassion color extend around us, our love so immense, our aura extends beyond the hut, miles past the pond, illuminating the jungle in soft radiant hues, burnt sienna, aquamarine, and bright streaks of cadmium red. Further still, our rainbow reflected against white clouds in an azure sky. Further still the low-frequency vibrations of our emotional joy, the pulsing, urgent low-frequency vibrations of our sexual joy, communicate through the ground to roots of trees. Further still, calm and consistent low-frequency joy enters ocean waters, and large whales three hundred miles distant, leap with joy, understanding the power of honest human love. Great whales leap and splash.
And further still, communities of dolphins, laugh and gossip with each other, telling a wild story of three humans, far off in an astral plane, a place which looks like a Buddhist dream in Southeast Asia, with oriental gardens, dragon robes and intricate embroidered designs, a place existent only in the minds of three loving humans, wrapped in thick cotton comforters, sitting in large Adirondack chairs, on the porch of a cabin in Upper Michigan, on a high, pine tree cliff, overlooking the vast, wind-blown waves of Lake Superior. Three humans communicating with each other in extraordinary ways, and emanating their shared love into the physical world, as an aura, as a low-frequency transmission, reaching whales and dolphins, thousands of miles away from Lake Superior.
