"You don't like my blowjobs?"

It was useless. He didn't want to enter the bath. Entering the bath would be like a self-willed neglection of his original self. But he was in Prague-23, a sim-city that he had consciously teleported to. There was no way to be an original self in this environment. True, he had constructed his so-called digital being by actively intermanipulating his emotions and the emotions of others so that he could regulate the idiosyncratic passage of his life through the arcade of history. But this arcade, full of abstractions both cognitive and dissonant, was now just a degenerative simulation of its former reality.

"Are you still addicted to me, Sir?"

"This doesn't work. YOU don't work. Get out of the bath right now. Get out of the bath and kneel before me. Right now."