This is the start of, hopefully, a long story. Slow start, but bear with me...

“Eddie, you’re a laugh riot. I’m losing ribs here, I’m laughing so much.”.

Elena’s tone of voice made it clear she was anything but amused, and Eddie knew he’d made a bad choice. Elena was his boss – well, strictly speaking she was more than that, she was his boss’s boss’s boss. She was Vice President for Research, and as such, she was pretty much Mistress Of Life and Death as far as people in Advanced Programmes were concerned. Up until three months ago, the job had belonged to Robert Swenson, a kindly if ineffectual old buffer with more doctorate-level qualifications to his name than most people had shoes. But then somebody on the board had pointed out that a technology company which invested over $1 billion a year on advanced research might actually want to see a return on that investment at some time. Exit Professor Swenson, enter Dr Elena Marcus, Harvard MBA, MIT PhD, and rumoured to have been doing “some seriously heavy stuff” at NSA.

It wouldn’t be so bad, Eddie thought, if she’d been just a bit less gorgeous. At first glance she looked like a beach volleyball champion – tall, blonde, with big blue eyes and a the kind of full, puckered mouth which looked like it was mid-kiss even at rest. She was, predictably, the subject of a great deal of fantasy in the geek-laden air of the Advanced Programmes… but not when she was around. Thankfully, she’d spent most of the last few months at the Corporate HQ in New York, but there had to come a point when she finally walked through the doors of Advanced Programmes. Unfortunately for Eddie Stone, that had happened on his watch.

My watch, Eddie thought bitterly. My ass. It was only because both his superiors – The portly Vince and the nervous Andy – had chickened out that he was here at all. Soon after Elena’s arrival in the company, emails had started to fly out of her desk about “demonstrating clear value-added” or “substantial refocusing of the research effort”. All the management jargon couldn’t cover up the clear message: start making some money or start looking for a job.

Eddie’s mistake, that Thursday afternoon, had been to take her straight to the thing that he was most excited about, instead of telling her about some of Vince’s work on ultra-high speed switching systems. He realised that – now that it was too late.

I’m screwed, he thought, she thinks I’m Caractacus Potts and this whole department is going to shut down.

He realised that she was expecting him to say something. He also realised that his eyes had been wandering over the swell of her breasts under her blouse, and that this was probably a bad move at this point.

“Dr Marcus, please believe me. I know it sounds absurd….”

“That’s putting it mildly, Eddie. You’re telling me that you are working on a time machine. To say that it sounds absurd would not even be the beginning of what it sounds like. It sounds like you people have not just been wasting stockholder’s money, you’ve been jerking around with it to an unheard of degree. You’re also wasting my time, which irritates me, and what’s more you’re insulting my intelligence, which really offends me. Just because I’m not a full-time research scientist, don’t make the mistake of thinking that I don’t know one end of a hadron collider from another….”

“It works, Doctor Marcus.”

Eddie had said the words without intending to – maybe part of him just wanted to get the point across, and maybe part of him just wanted to see a look of surprise on her face – and if he couldn’t get it by grabbing her in his arms and kissing her he’d do it this way. Whatever, it seemed to work.

“What?” the word was as much of an accusation as a question in her mouth.

“Well, it’s more than a time machine, you see. Time travel is impossible under current physical models…”

“Ohhh, here we go. The typical bleat of the research scientist who never quite makes it to his destination: ‘It doesn’t cure cancer, but it mixes really good martinis!’ I don’t want to hear it, Eddie” She turned on her heel and started to walk away. Eddie, aware of how stupid he looked, followed after her like a desperate puppy, out through the door of the lab.

“It’s better than a time machine! It creates –“ he realised his voice was attracting attention as they walked along the corridor and he didn’t want too many people knowing about this. “It creates whole new worlds.” He whispered hoarsely.

She paused for about three heartbeats, turned again, not making eye contact and strode back into the lab. Eddie caught the implication that she knew he’d follow. When they were inside, she closed the door and locked it.

She turned to him, and her eyes were like an animal’s, sharp and hungry.

“Okay”, she said, “you have precisely one minute more of my attention. Speak fast.”

Eddie took a deep breath.

“The apparatus, in very simple terms, is a combination of a tachyon projector and an MRI scanner. There’s a lot more to it than that, but basically the effect is that if you concentrate on the world you want to visit, you’re there. It creates the world for you.”

“You mean like virtual reality? Second-Life kind of stuff?” She was losing interest.

“No, no, not at all. This actually projects your physical body into the world the machine has created. In many ways it’s better than a time machine because, well, I don’t know about you, but I can’t speak Middle English, so I guess…” he was burbling and almost grateful when she interrupted.

“You’ve tried this? It works?”

“Well, we need to make a few refinements. Some test volunteers have tried it, but…”

“But… what?” there was that accusation again, the sound of a woman waiting for the other shoe to drop…

“They’re okay, don’t get me wrong, but they keep wanting to come back. One even got violent about it. It seems that the world that the apparatus creates is more – attractive – than this world in some ways.”

“What ways?” He’d known she was going to ask that, just as he knew he was going to have to answer her. Deep breath, Eddie, here we go…

“Sexually, Doctor Marcus. It seems that the apparatus is guided by the whole of the mind of the subject, conscious and unconscious….”

If Eddie had been sensitive to this kind of thing he’d have noticed that Elena’s pupils were dilating rapidly at this point. She said nothing, and he went on.

“The first test subjects reported worlds entirely of their own creation, rather like dreams, but they were unstable. They broke down, with nasty results. Eventually, we added an artificial intelligence element to the programme…”

“What kind of ‘nasty results’?”

“Well… I’ve got some footage I can show you…” He turned to the computer. “In the early days we were able to carry out limited monitoring of the created world – kind of like having a TV camera follow the subject around. At present the latest version of the system is so complex we haven’t been able to do that, but we’re working on it….” His hands flew over the keys, accessing security-coded files.

“I should warn you, this is pretty… unusual.” He felt his cheeks burning and hoped to hell that the monitor light would cover it up. She rolled her eyes.

“I’m a grown-up, Eddie. I’m also your boss, so roll the film…”

“Okay…” he breathed.

The image on the screen showed a caption: APPARATUS XXC BETA TEST SUBJECT: 001 DATE 061105 14:17:23. Then it was replaced by a picture of a room, lined in stone, with bars on the small, narrow windows. The light came from burning torches on the walls, illuminating the body of a young woman, barely into her twenties. She was on her hands and knees, naked except for the fragments of black lacy material that had obviously been ripped from her body. She was on a kind of small platform or altar in the middle of the room. An iron collar, chained to a bolt in the platform, held her in position, and her black hair hung down in filthy hanks over her face. Only the flickering of the torches and the heaving of the woman’s chest betrayed that this was motion video rather than just a picture.

Eddie snuck a look at his boss out of the corner of his eye. She was watching, transfixed.

On the screen, the woman was blanked out for a moment by two figures moving in to shot from behind the camera. At first, they looked like heavily-built men wearing shaggy trousers, but as they turned, Elena saw that they were nothing like human at all. They had the torsos of hugely-muscled men, to be sure – the kind that she often grimaced at on the covers of magazines like Muscle on the magazine racks. But their heads were far from human; covered in dark fur, crowned with huge horns, and with muzzles that looked like…

Like bulls, Elena realised. Minotaurs. She’d read about these as a child. The last time she’d seen one though, had been –

She snapped out of it. “Okay, I’ve seen enough. I’ve also seen The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe so if you think I can’t recognise CGI when I seen it…”

“Doctor Marcus, it’s not CGI, I swear. It’s the world this test subject created. Nobody here could create that kind of CGI, we don’t have the skills or the software…” He paused the footage.

Elena regarded him for a long, uncomfortable moment with those sharp, blue eyes. Eventually, she spoke, slowly and carefully.

“Stone, you know I worked for NSA, don’t you?”

“Yes, Doctor Marcus… well, I mean - I heard..”

“You also know that this company has a lot of contacts within the defence and intelligence community, don’t you?”

Eddie wasn’t sure where this was going, but he nodded dumbly anyway.

“Good. Then I hope you believe me when I say that, if this is you or your department’s idea of a joke… if you have brought me here to tell me some bullshit story about Alice-in-Wonderland alternative worlds and show me some of your sick geek porn in a pathetic attempt to back it up… if any of that is the case, then I will simply make three phone calls, and have your entire department shut down, plus a fourth, which will result in your academic record being rewritten to show that you never even graduated from high school, plus possibly a fifth which will have the FBI looking for you for child molestation charges. Do you believe that?”

Stone nodded.

“Excellent. So, knowing that, I am now giving you one last chance to tell me if this is just a practical joke on the new boss. If it is, I advise you in the strongest possible terms to be honest with me now.”

Eddie’s heart was pounding.

“Doctor Marcus…” he began hoarsely, then cleared his throat and started again. “Doctor Marcus, I swear it’s not any kind of joke. Only twelve people in the world know about this, and you’re the first to see these files apart from me and Professor Swenson…”

Again, that laser-beam stare raked across him, appraising, weighing.

“Okay. Play the file.”

His hands shaking, Eddie clicked the mouse to start the film again.

The woman was still motionless. The creatures walked across to her, one stationing itself at her head and the other at her hindquarters. They grunted at each other in heavy, breathy tones. They’re talking to each other… Elena thought in wonder. Then she noticed the angry pink spots, on each of the minotaur’s pelvises. For a moment she thought it was a glitch of the camera, then realised what she was seeing. The beasts’ penises were slowly emerging from their sheaths. Elena felt her pulse rate increase – the minotaurs themselves must have been around seven feet tall, maybe four feet across the shoulders, but these cocks owed much more to the bull part than the human. Before her eyes, they slid noiselessly, inexorably, from their owners, growing into spears of glistening pink flesh, each fully fifteen inches long, and thick as a coke can around the base.

One of the creatures bent over the woman and slapped her backside, drawing gasps of pain from her. She moaned as the other reached down and twisted her breast in its huge, broad hand, crushing it viciously and then releasing it with another slap. The beast at her head grabbed her hair and pulled it up, revealing vaguely oriental features. With its other hand it began to slap her around the face with its huge member. Elena could see the streaks of shiny pre-cum the minotaur’s cock left on her face.

“Is this what you meant by going wrong?” Elena hissed.

“Well… no, not really. You see… that woman is the test subject. Everything in there was created by her. Nothing is happening in that room that she doesn’t want to happen, at least on some level in her subconscious…” Eddie replied.

The minotaur seemed to be following some kind of ritual. They swayed from side-to-side, one repeatedly striking the woman across the face with his engorged cock, the other smearing his across her upturned buttocks. They emitted low grunts, growing gradually louder.

“What are they doing…?”

“She told us afterwards it was a pre-battle ritual” Eddie sighed, aware of how weird that sounded. Before she could ask, he went on. “Minotaurs are warriors, and this was a ritual before the went into combat”.

“You mean they’re screwing her before they go off to war?”

“Not quite – this is just a way of giving themselves something to fight over. They do this, then fight to the death, then the winner… keeps her as a prize.” Eddie shrugged. “Her subconscious, like I said. She explained it all afterwards.”

“Afterwards?”

“After this part.”

On screen, the creatures had reached a peak – bellowing and raising clenched fists above their heads. At the peak of the cry, both of them plunged their cocks deep into the woman’s body – one down her throat, the other into her pussy. Her strangled cry echoed off the wall of the room… and the picture distorted and disappeared.

“What happened?” Elena asked?

“Well, that’s what the problem is. Out monitoring is based on a link through her consciousness. We think that, at that point, she orgasmed, and we lost the link in the storm it created.”

“Where is this woman now?”

Eddie sighed. Here comes the tricky bit, he thought.

“Well, she’s.. in there. She went back in a week after this, and the same thing happened. Only this time, she never came out.”

“Never came out?”

“That’s the problem. When I said the world in there is more attractive, what I meant was that, once you’re in, you can come out any time you want. But most don’t want to. Who would? Your most primal desires are fulfilled... but we’ve got a system to fix that now, we think. We’ve just never tried it before. It’s an auto-timer which pulls you back after a certain time has elapsed. But we’re not sure what the psychological effects might be…”

“Is it always like that on the inside?” Elena asked.

“No, not at all, It’s different for every subject, because it comes from their subconscious. We think that, with a bit of tweaking, we can fix it so it’s restricted to certain historical periods…”

Elena stood up. “When’s the next test due?”

“We’re waiting on a go-ahead from you to continue with funding… so…” Eddie’s voice faltered.

“Give me everything you’ve got on the project. Especially these video files. Gather it together and have it sent to my office”

Eddie’s heart sank. This was it, the project was going to be closed down and three year’s work was going to be locked up in some safe forever.

Elena’s next words left him stunned.

“The project goes ahead, but I want to test this for myself. You geeks can’t possibly expect to fathom the military or commercial possibilities of this… so I’m going in.”

Eddie just stared at her, agog. She reached over and pushed his chin up.

“Close mouth, little Eddie, stop gaping… you and I are going to find out just what this can do…”

She swept from the room.

- end of part one.

Comments, suggestions and ideas for part two very welcome! You can see that, being a greedy little sod, I've made sure there are no rules at all about what's on the other side of the looking glass, so bring 'em on!

I loved the beginning and can't wait for more...

Yes, a great beginning. And yes, I'd like to see more additions to this story. But, however, I think that my imagination is a bit too stagnant to give you any ideas at this present time, but I'd sure like to see and read more. Thank you for a great story beginning. A 10 from me.

Thanks to all who've read, commented or voted. This one must be firing my imagination, 'cause here's part two:


Part 2

Elena strode down the corridor. Her stride was as purposeful and regular as usual, and her face its usual, slightly imperious mask. But behind that mask, she was in turmoil. It felt like she couldn’t breathe, and fainting felt like a real possibility.

On reaching the lobby, instead of heading for the door and her waiting car, she turned right and made her way into the staff restroom. Fortunately, the receptionist and the few members of the research team in the lobby who saw her do this didn’t realise how unusual this was – Elena, scrupulously clean, who turned her nose up even at the marble-perfection of senior executive washrooms, would normally sooner risk an internal haemorrhage than use a public toilet. But right now was different.

Without looking left or right, she went straight for the first cubicle, and bolted the door behind her. Then, without even sitting down, she slid her right hand up under her skirt and past the layers of silk that made up her French knickers and straight to her clit.

She had barely even made contact with the throbbing bud when the orgasm she’d been fighting back for five minutes ripped through her body. The image of the woman chained and impaled at both ends by totally inhuman creatures, used as an object, would have been enough by itself, but the knowledge that the woman had created it all herself, willingly conjured that scenario from the darkest parts of her mind…

Elena wanted to scream. It was only with the greatest effort of self-control that she managed to fight the impulse back to a whimper.

As she resurfaced, her head still swimming and her knees like jelly, she sank back onto the lid of the toilet, lowering herself carefully by hanging on to the coat hook.

“You okay in there?”

Shit, thought Elena. Whoever this was had obviously been in the toilet as she came in. Elena wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t noticed the woman, whoever she was. Just as well I didn’t scream..

“Fine”, she called back, her voice cracking only slightly. She waited for a moment and cleared her throat. “Time of the month.”

“You need any painkillers?”

Oh god, just get lost, will you?

“No thanks… just took one.”

The unintended irony struck her a moment later. She bit her hand, desperately fighting back giggles. She could hear the other woman’s feet moving towards the door and out into the lobby. Only when she heard the outer door close fully did Elena allow herself to burst out into helpless laughter, which turned in seconds to tears.

Hysterical orgasm, she thought. You’d better believe it.

Okay, let’s get a grip here. Harvard MBA’s aren’t known for jerking themselves off in the restroom…

She consciously pushed the apparatus to the back of her mind, deciding that she needed to think about it later. Right now, as she’d just proven to herself, she wasn’t in full control, and Elena hated that. Therefore she needed to remove herself as quickly as possible to somewhere she could regain control.

It’d take a few minutes, though, before she could even cross the lobby. She wiped her brow with some toilet paper, and waved both her hands in front of her face to cool herself down.

Jesus… did I even flirt with that geek, Stone? I must have been turned too far up by a long way…

Although, she reflected, she was probably being too hard on Stone. He wasn’t bad-looking, just badly-dressed, with a nasty haircut and not many social skills. He might even be good in bed… not that Elena would ever find out. She might flirt with staff if she wanted them particularly obedient, but sleeping with them just made things complicated.

Elena was quite sanguine about using her sex appeal to get what she wanted. Life was warfare, and she was going to use every weapon at her disposal. Growing up as an orphan in a succession of care homes had taught her that; but instead of turning to a life of drugs and prostitution as so many of her contemporaries had, she had worked a bigger game. Other boys and girls might have won their victories with their fists and feet, but Elena had realised that the truly powerful never got their hands dirty with fighting. They used other people to do it for them.

So she read. Aided by a naturally high intelligence, she won a scholarship to MIT at the age of sixteen. And if, in between times, she’d had to put up with being called a ‘brainer’, well, what was that? So what? And if, eventually, that jealousy had turned into physical assault, Elena had learned young how to manipulate others. Once, only once, had she been unable to use others to prevent a beating from the girls she shared a dorm with. Three weeks later, the ringleader was dead – pushed in front of a truck by a derelict who claimed that a ‘faery witch’ had told him to do it.

Elena splashed water on her face from the basin and looked at her reflection. Cheeks still slightly flushed from the orgasm, but no-one here would know her well enough to notice that. She stepped out of the restroom and strode across the lobby, once again Doctor Marcus, VP of Research, and that’s Doctor Marcus ma’am to you.

The car was waiting at the door. Momentarily passing between the two, she felt the hot breath of the desert air, caressing her body, up her skirt and across her close-cropped pubic hair and the still-tender lips beneath it. She stopped for a beat to luxuriate in the sensation; anyone noticing would have thought she was simply admiring the view.

She stepped into the car. The driver closed the door, and they made for the airfield.

* * * * *

An hour later, Elena sat on the Gulfstream IV which she jokingly referred to as her ‘company car’. Eddie had done as he was told and emailed the files on the project to her, and she was reviewing them on her laptop. Outside, at 45,000 feet, the sun was setting somewhere over Arizona.

Elena had planned to read the project logs from day one onwards. Instead she went straight to the video files of the subjects, opening them one by one. As the first one appeared on the screen, she looked up at the stewardess and dismissed her to the anteroom, telling her that she was not to be disturbed for the remainder of the flight.

Slipping on a pair of headphones, Elena turned to the screen. An entirely different picture came into focus before her: This was a jungle – steaming, deep green. The sun was dappled through the foliage overhead, and the only sound was a deep, heavy buzzing of millions of insects.

A woman came into view. Not the same woman – this was a stocky, healthy-looking girl of about 25. Her white-blonde hair was caught back in a tight bun at the top of her neck, and she wore khaki safari gear – shorts, vest and an open shirt over that. She was sweating heavily, and there were dark, moist patches under her arms, across the centre of her back, and down between her breasts.

She walked cautiously along a path in the jungle, stopping regularly to glance from side to side. Elena couldn’t decide if this was fear, or whether the girl was hunting something. Her eyes darted across the foliage, trying to find something. There was a feeling of waiting about the jungle, a heavy silence hanging in the air.

Suddenly, she looked back towards the ‘camera’ and saw whatever it was she was seeking. Elena couldn’t see, but she was so involved in the video that she started to turn her own head behind herself, wanting desperately to see what the girl was seeing. The girl started to run down the path, away from whatever she had seen. The camera followed, and Elena felt a rising sense of dread, as if she was watching a particularly good horror movie. The girl ran for about thirty seconds, her heavy boots slowing her down, but sprinting like crazy, as if the Devil himself was after her. Eventually she slowed a little, and, as she tired, didn’t pick her feet up enough, stumbling and falling. There was a sound like a low whistle, and a dart landed in the back of her thigh.

The screen went dark, but the slider at the bottom of the video window showed another 25 minutes to run on the file. Elena pressed fast-forward, and five minutes further along the file, the screen lit up again.

The scene was a clearing in the jungle, filled with naked tribes people, male and female. The tribes people reminded Elena of documentaries about the Amazon, and she assumed they were somewhere in South America. Except, of course, we’re nowhere except the imagination of Lara Croft over there…

The girl herself was just returning to consciousness, stood between two upright stakes. Her wrists and her ankles were tied to the stakes, forcing her body into an X-shape between the posts. Her head was still lolling, but she was surrounded by native women, one of whom had just forced some kind of liquid down her throat.

The girl coughed, choking, and returned to full awareness. She looked around her and realised the situation she was in, and made to scream. But it wasn’t a scream that came from her throat – just a strangled whimper. It made Elena think of the sound she herself made when she screamed in a nightmare. And I suppose that’s what this is, she reflected. But you’ve only got yourself to thank for this one, toots…

The native women began to remove her clothes. They started with her hair band, spilling that white-blonde hair down across her shoulders. The girl tried to stop them, but with all four limbs pinioned she had no real chance. The women started gently, tugging and pulling, but gradually they seemed to become angry. It’s the clothes, thought Elena. They’ve never seen them before, so they don’t know how to take them off.

The women grew gradually more angry – both with the clothes and with the girl. Some shouted at her, others slapped her across the face, the breasts, the legs, but most pulled ever-harder at the clothes, until eventually the seams gave way and the clothes dissolved under the assault. A great cheer and laughter went up from the natives.

The girl now stood, pinioned as before, but exposed now, showing small, high breasts with light pink areolae and long, sensitive nipples, wide, fleshy buttocks with dimples at the top and a slight belly, not unattractive, above a neatly-trimmed pubic bush, as white-blonde as the girl’s hair and barely visible against her skin.

The natives seemed fascinated by the white flesh, crowding round to run their hands over it, stroke it, pinch it. The girl writhed, whimpering still, trying to shy away from the hands which grabbed her from every side. Elena noticed that the men took no part, although they were clearly as fascinated as the women – more so, judging by the almost-universal erectness of their penises.

One woman, seemingly some sort of leader, shooed the others away from the girl’s body, and, taking a large pot made from a gourd or some similar material, began to daub a translucent, oily liquid onto the girl’s body. It’s animal fat of some kind, thought Elena. This seemed to be some sort of ritual – the elder woman was chanting softly as she spread the viscous fluid across the girl’s skin. She started at the feet, moving gradually up each leg, then giving particular attention to the girl’s pussy and ass. The camera moved in obligingly at this point, allowing Elena a good view of the old woman’s hand as it spread the liquid across the girl’s buttocks. The girl flinched as the woman’s hands moved to her pussy and ass at the same time, strong, wrinkled fingers diving into the girl’s most intimate parts. With one finger deep inside the girl’s pussy and one in her backside, the elder began to rub more rapidly, with harder, deeper strokes, and the girl’s whimpering took on a new quality. Her nipples erected, and instead of flinching away, she began to move with the old woman’s fingers, trying to force herself harder onto the tormenting hands, her chest heaving.

Just as the girl’s whimpers turned to cries of genuine passion, however, the woman stole her hands away. The girl sobbed in disappointment, but her voice was muffled as the old woman took the fingers that had been in the girl’s pussy and forced them into the girl’s mouth. The girl licked and sucked hungrily, eager now to please this person who might give her the orgasm she now desperately craved. Seeing this, the crowd cheered again, as if a victory had been won. As, in a way, it has, thought Elena. They’ve got you, sweetheart. But while the girl slavered over the fingers, two other elderly women came across and continued to rub the fluid over her, chanting along with the first woman.

Soon the girl’s body was covered in a thick film of the liquid. Flies were beginning to land on the girl’s body, confirming Elena’s idea that the material was animal fat. It seemed to have some kind of narcotic effect – the girl looked as if she was half-drunk. Rather than whimpering, she was sighing now, her nipples hard and erect, writhing in her bonds as if trying to clench her legs together. The women stepped back and four men walked up. With swift, deft movements they released the girl’s hands and feet from the stakes, but they held firm to the cords. Half-walking and half being dragged, the girl was manouevered to the edge of a deep pit, which Elena hadn’t noticed before. Why she hadn’t seen it, she couldn’t guess – it was easily thirty feet across and ten deep, with a floor of thick leaf mulch.

Four other men stood by the edge of the pit with long, bamboo-type sticks in their hands. With amazing rapidity, these men plunged the sticks into the pit, whilst the men holding the girl pulled her into the pit along with them, each catching one of the sticks, so the girl was dangled between them. The sun glistened across the skin of her buttocks an back for a moment, and then she was lowered gently but swiftly into the pit. At the same time, the men holding her scrambled back up the poles and onto the surface of the clearing, as the poles were withdrawn.

The whole thing looked so choreographed, so balletic, that Elena ran the file back to see it again. The natives were clearly used to doing this…

The girl, now freed of any restraint, didn’t make a break for freedom. Rather, she turned over onto her back, showing the front of her body now covered with the back-brown leaf mold that lined the pit. The natives, meanwhile, had fallen silent, gathering round the edge of the pit. There wasn’t enough room for them all, but there was clearly some kind of pecking order as there was no jostling. The men were all at the edge, their angrily erect penises pointing inward towards the girl. The women knelt down beside them.

The girl luxuriated, running her limbs across the floor of the pit and delving into the mulch. She opened her eyes, and surveyed the audience of naked people. Reaching out as if to clutch at the ring of cocks that surrounded her, she then ran her hands up the insides of her thighs and began to stroke herself.

At first Elena thought it was a distortion of the video, but it wasn’t: the mulch was moving. Several lines of ripples were moving slowly from the edge of the pit towards the girl. As she watched, long, sinuous bodies broke the surface, showing glistening scales.

Snakes… huge snakes…

Elena felt her hand steal up her skirt again, almost of its own volition. The girl, lost in her masturbation, didn’t notice the first snake loop itself about her ankle, round and round, up her leg and onto her thigh. Another diamond-shaped head appeared, bigger than the girl’s hand and rearing up between her legs. Her eyes, closed for some time, snapped open as she felt two snakes crossing her chest, one from each side. Her face registered fear – but only slightly, as if whatever drug was in the fat wouldn’t let her feel too afraid. She made no move to shrug the snakes off; instead she just lay on her back, still writhing as her hands rubbed hard and deep into her pussy.

Elena counted at least six snakes; it was hard to tell. Each was a brownish yellow with a black stripe running the length of their back, and all had deep orange eyes – with slitted pupils which somehow seemed to speak of intelligence beyond the norm for snakes. They must have been at least fifteen feet long each, their bodies wider than the girl’s thigh at their widest point, but narrowing to no thicker than her wrist just below their heads. They moved unlike Elena would have expected animals to do – as if they all had a clear purpose; no random or unnecessary motions. Within thirty seconds of her first noticing them, the girl was completely trapped – her legs pinned together below the knee, her arms pinned to her side.

The snakes trapping her arms shifted their position slightly, pulling the girls frantic hands back and away from her pussy. The girl moaned in frustration and disappointment as again she was denied pleasure, but as she did so, the muscular coils tightened about her chest, sliding easily against the slick oil on her flesh, crushing the breath from her. Only when she stopped whining and gave up the attempt to reach her pussy did the pressure relax. Instinctively, the girl made another grab towards her pussy, but the coils tightened again.

They’re acting as a group, and they ARE intelligent, thought Elena with wonder. They’re ordering her around; training her to do what they want, not what she wants.

The girl, by now clearly desperate for orgasm, brought her thighs together. This too was soon denied her, as the reptiles on her lower legs simply reached up to the others on her chest, and tightening drawing together, they quickly and effectively pulled her thighs apart. There was little or no apparent effort from the snakes in any of this – their combined strength was obviously nothing shirt of titanic.

At the same time, the girl received another punishment – this time around the throat, making her eyes bulge. This time, she just lay inert, clearly aware even in her drugged state that this was the snakes’ requirement of her and unable to do anything other than submit.

As if sensing her submission, the snakes seemed to relax slightly. One of them moved from its position across her chest, others sliding into position to fill the gap it had made. The snake slid itself down until it was resting between her spread thighs and across her dripping pussy. The girl moaned softly as she felt the weight of the reptile’s dry, smooth coils across her mons.

The camera zoomed again, and Elena saw in close focus as, just below the girl’s pussy, a bulge from the snake’s body turned rapidly into a white, three-pronged cock, dripping with slime, about six inches long. The snake pivoted rapidly and his cock drove into the girl’s pussy.

She gasped, her voice stifled by the lack of breath in her lungs. As she did so, some joint effort of the snakes shifted her onto her side. The snakes all now began to move, their speed almost shocking after the slow, deliberate paces they had taken before. All of them were suddenly armed with the same hard, slimy, white cocks, leaving trails across the girl’s skin where they moved. Another snake joined the first at the girl’s pussy, plunging in beside, whilst two more did the same for the girl’s ass. Another two wrapped themselves around the girl’s head, and through the coils Elena could just see their cocks bury themselves in the girl’s mouth, as the girl gaped and sucked, trying to take as much in as possible and still allow herself to breathe.

Yet even here, Elena saw, the snakes acted together, Their thrusts were all perfectly co-ordinated with each other; almost like watching the pistons on a car engine. The girl writhed and twisted randomly, not able to synchronise her motions with the movements of the six cocks which were penetrating her. The camera panned back from her body, now almost completely covered in the black-brown humus, to show the natives at the edge of the pit. The women were now sucking and licking the men’s cocks, but only on the sides, never, Elena noted, taking the heads into their mouths. All the men had at least one woman one her knees at his feet; many had two and at least one – clearly a high-status man from the feathered headdress he wore, had three, the third dividing her time between his asshole and his scrotum.

All acting as one, the snakes’ repeated thrusting became faster and faster until their bodies were almost blurred. The violent motion of their heavy bodies was throwing the girl around, and they threw new coils around her limbs and body, not to trap her this time but to keep hold. They began to bite at the girl’s body, not with fangs but with wet, pink mouths that opened obscenely wide, gumming and gnawing at breasts, nipples, neck, buttocks, thighs, ranging over the whole exposed surface of the girl’s body.

As one, they all shuddered, and Elena saw jets of white cum spraying the girl’s face from the cocks of the reptiles around her head, and realised that the same huge volumes of fluid must be being pumped into her vagina and rectum by her other assailants. At the same time, jets of cum began to shoot from the cocks of the men gathered around the edge of the pit, inhuman volumes and being fired an insane distance, each white wad travelling ten or twenty feet. The gasps from the men were echoed by the murmurs of appreciation of the women, who were now directing their men’s spurts so that they flew down over the prone figure in the pit.

Elena tried in vain to count the number of times the snake-wrapped girl was sprayed with the native men’s seed – thirty, forty, fifty? As she watched, she realised, almost with surprise, that she was about to have an orgasm. Her fingers had done their work almost without her noticing. She gripped the arm of the seat tightly with her other hand, and let out a long, slow sigh of satisfaction.

On screen, the girl was drenched and left slick and glistening as the snakes, now sated themselves, disentangled themselves and, with the same lazy, deliberate movements they originally showed, slid away, back into the humus.

But you ain’t done, are you, girl? thought Elena. The screen’s still showing you and it hasn’t blanked out like it did before, so, I guess you haven’t come… the only one of us. Poor you…

Elena felt a pang of sympathy for a girl who could go through all that and still not be allowed to reach orgasm. The girl was twitching and making feeble motions towards her drenched pussy, but seemed too weak to do anything about the pain she must be going through. Rivers of cum ran over every inch of her body, mixing with the leaf litter and caking her in protean slime. Her long, thick eyelashes kept the fluids from running into her eyes, but her tongue came out and polished the mixture from her lips. She seemed to enjoy the taste, as she began to weakly lick her shoulder too.

But it wasn’t over for the natives, either. Elena could see that they were still and silent – not with a post-orgasmic satiety, but with expectation, staring intently down into the pit.

The camera followed their gaze, as the leaf litter at one end of the pit began to move again. But this time it was different – not the single lines but a wave. Elena watched, barely daring to blink in case she missed anything, as the leaves fell away to reveal the head of a snake fully ten times the size of those who had recently had their way with the girl. Similar colouring, but without the spark of intelligence which had glittered in the eyes of its smaller cousins, it moved inexorably towards the girl, its huge body obviously emerging from some underground cavern; too vast to be contained in the pit.

The natives gasped as the monster appeared, and hearing them, the girl raised her head to see the creature, drawing towards her. Recognition showed in her eyes, but no fear. Instead, she let out a low, breathy murmur of unmistakable lust, slumping down onto her back and reaching out her arms to the reptile.

As it drew closer, it spat out a huge tongue, as thick as the girl’s arm, which landed across the girl’s breasts like a whip. She winced in pain, and the tongue slithered across her body as it withdrew into the creature.

The snake reached the girl’s feet and, raising it’s head a little off the ground, opened its cavernous maw; wet, light pink and dripping. Elena, realising what was about to happen, realised also that she was about to have another orgasm herself. The snake engulfed the girl’s feet, and she let out a long moan of delight. Gradually it pulled her towards itself, then with one smooth motion ran its mouth further up until it was just below the girl’s pussy. The girl gasped again, making noises that could have been ‘yes..’ if she’d had the strength to speak. Her arms flopped limply by her sides as the snake’s mouth covered her pelvis, her belly, and her small, high breasts, the nipples so hard they dragged against the monster’s lip.

The girl was now engulfed from the breasts downward. Her eyes were closed in a clearly pre-orgasmic haze and she continued to gasp noises of encouragement to the creature that was swallowing her. With what little strength was left in her arms, she was caressing the snout of the snake, running her hands in gentle strokes over its hard, smooth scales.

With another rush, the snake’s mouth covered the girl up to the chin, forcing her arms above her head, and she gave another gasp of ecstasy. The snake gathered itself for its last forward lunge, the one which would swallow the girl completely, and the girl began to feel the orgasm which she been so cruelly denied for so long, while in the plane Elena felt her second orgasm in five minutes wash across her body. At the same moment, the snake surged forward and the girl was gone, all except for her hands, which clenched furiously, white-knuckled in an unmistakably massive and shattering orgasm, as the screen distorted and went blank, as before. Unlike before, a note came up on the screen:

“Monitor contact was lost at this point. Subject reports that the next thing she knew was being rescued by villagers who pulled her from the snake. She indicates that her perception was that this happened more than a day after she was apparently swallowed by the snake, but admits that her judgement may be flawed. She then went on to spend some months with the villagers, living as one of them and having a relationship with several of them – see additional file. Total duration of test three hours seventeen minutes”

Some months? In a test that only lasted three hours and some?



From: Elena Marcus
To: Edward Stone

Eddie

Some questions regarding the project:

• How does it actually work?

• Why are the people involved always having sex with animals?

• Why do some see creatures that never exist (like minotaurs, etc)?

• There seems to be a distorted view of time inside the apparatus. Is this correct?

I plan to go in myself next week, probably Monday, but I’ll let you know, Have the apparatus ready for me at short notice.

In the meantime do not talk about the project to anyone. Not even to admit that it exists.

I also need a full list of who has knowledge of the project.

EM

... to be continued.

What a great start! Fantastic imagination. Thank you for posting. definately worth a ten.

Mesmerizing story. Thank you for sharing your imagination with us. Hope to see more in days to come. I am eagerly waiting.

Again, thank you. I'd give you another 10, but I will need to wait until 24 hours for it to reset. :beer: :beer: :beer: How about a 6-pack of beer? Hehehe

:wub: A truly captivating beginning. More More More!

The first part was great but the 2nd has me waiting for the next.

Can't wait form more

OK, apologies ahead of time: this part contains more back story than sex. Tried to keep the science to a minimum but I don't think Michael Crichton needs to be looking over his shoulder just yet. :P

Keep reading though - I promise the splooge will be flowing in the next ep.

Part 3

From: Elena Marcus
To: Edward Stone

Dr Marcus

Answers to your questions, in ascending order of how tricky they are to answer…

Distorted view of time: Yes. It’s random. There’s almost no link between how much time the subject thinks has passed and how much has actually passed. The records are one subject who thought five years had passed, when he’d been in there for ninety minutes, and one who thought she’d been in there for about thirty seconds when she’d been in there for two hours.

Mythical creatures: Because the world the subject enters is ‘created’ by his or her subconscious, that world is populated by whatever’s in that subconscious. In those terms, mythical creatures are as ‘real’ as anything else. Professor Swenson used to ask people how they knew what Saturn looked like, and of course they’d answer that they’d seen pictures. He’d reply that that was the same way that they knew what dragons looked like, so how did they know that dragon’s didn’t exist?

Incidentally, in addition to the minotaurs you’ve seen, so far we’ve also encountered dragons, werewolves, centaurs, unicorns, angels, demons… and that’s just the more normal stuff. We’ve also had robots, aliens, walking trees, ghosts, vampires, mummies - the whole Aurora kits back catalogue, basically – sea monsters, talking trees, sentient slime, plus about every children’s toy made over the last thirty years coming to life (e.g. Video file XX-27a shows a male test subject in bondage being being breast-fed by a life-size, living Barbie Doll).

Gotta hunt that one down… thought Elena.

How does it work?

Simple answer is we don’t know.

It started out as an attempt to build a teleportation system. We’ve never managed to make one that works for inanimate objects, but Professor Swenson thought we could do it by using a tachyon projector mesh to rip apart the atomic structure of the subject, but map their consciousness before we did it with the super-MRI and then use that as a kind of ‘key’ to reconstruct their body at the other end.

We were trying to use quantum tunnelling: we know that this effect can make things travel from one place to another without actually passing through the space in between. So we set up a receiving station which we thought was ‘tuned’ to the ‘sending station’.

But it doesn’t work like that. When the body passes through the mesh, it disappears completely. We’ve tried putting GPS senders on the bodies of the subjects but we can’t pick up any kind of trace of their signal when they are inside the apparatus, which means that, wherever they are, they’re nowhere on Earth.

I have a theory – and it’s only a theory at this stage – that we succeeded in building a teleporter, but not one which worked like we wanted it to. I think that, instead of sending the subject to the receiving station we built, they are actually sent to the far side of the universe.

Put it like this – if we inhabit an infinite universe, then everything that can exist, must exist, somewhere, simply by the law of random chance. So if the law of random chance says that there’s a one-in-fifty-gazillion chance that dragons can evolve, that sounds pretty small – until you realise you have to roll the dice an infinite number of times.

In fact, if you roll the dice an infinite number of times, you don’t just get one planet inhabited by dragons: you get an infinite number of them.

That also means that there’s an infinite number of other Planet Earths which are identical to this one in every last detail. There’s also an infinity of other earths which are different from our to a greater or lesser degree – in some the only difference may be the arrangement of two cells in the gut of a single mosquito in the rainforest.

So, basically you’ve got a universe where absolutely anything anyone can think of can and must happen, somewhere. Plus a lot of things that none of us could imagine.

Now, I think that what happens is that the Super-MRI we use in the apparatus has an effect on the tachyon mesh. I think that the subject’s subconscious brainwaves have a tuning effect on the mesh, almost like tuning a radio. I think that the subject’s brain waves ‘tune in’ the mesh to a planet where their deepest desires are on the point of being fulfilled already, and just ‘drops in’. So the woman you saw on the clip wanted to be – sorry to put it this way – used as a sex slave by warrior minotaurs. She might not have known it, but her subconscious did, and automatically tuned in to a planet where that could and would happen.

Like I say, it’s still a theory and I’ve not much evidence to back it up so far. The woman you saw with the minotaurs did report that she didn’t recognise the constellations of stars in the sky, which could support the idea.

Why animals?

This is a biggie. It’s not always exclusively animals, as I’ve mentioned, but there’s always some form of sadomasochism and bestiality involved. Sometimes the bestiality is secondary – file XCX 221s shows edited highlights of a woman who was kept hostage for six weeks by Bedouin tribesmen, and only occasionally forced to fellate their stallions. On the other hand, the subjects aren’t always submissive victims, either. One male subject reported having a harem of over 2,000 females of various species – some human, most a kind of being that were human-shaped but had the texture of slugs, and exuded a kind of aromatic slime from every orifice (he would regularly get ten or so of them to assault and attempt to rape him - however he almost always won, and would then crush them whilst having violent sex with them, but they re-formed over the next few hours. The one time he lost was a sight to see...).

There’s something else.

In at least two cases, people’s bodies themselves have been changed by the trip. The changes have been relatively minor – in one case a woman was able to extrude her vagina so it resembled – and behaved like - a penis. In another a man had a much-larger anus than normal, enough to allow him to have anal intercourse with a forty-foot dragon – but the possibility of far larger-scale alterations exist, if we can narrow down what causes it. I’m analysing the two subjects’ MRI traces for clues at the moment. Both of those tend to contradict my ‘cross-the-universe’ theory, unless there's another factor I haven't seen. I’m working on that.

We really don’t know why. There are two theories that might explain it, though:

The first is to do with Professor Swenson himself. This was his pet project and he carried out a lot of the work himself. I hesitate to say this – for all I know I’m libeling the poor guy – but he was known to have pretty unorthodox tastes in the bedroom department. Only rumour, but these things have to start somehow. The reason that might have an effect is that we had to go back to the beginning on this as far as the computer systems are concerned. Not just a new programming language, a whole new computer architecture had to be developed, and Professor Swenson was responsible for at least 75% of it, so maybe his personality rubbed off somehow?

The second theory is a lot simpler, and (possibly) a lot more scary: Deep down, we’re all sadomasochistic zoophiles.

The apparatus will be ready for you at any time you need it; it only needs about an hour to warm up. But I have to ask you if you really want to do this. The test subjects were told they were partaking in a new “active imaging” system – they thought they were dreaming, effectively – so they don’t realise what we’ve got. But of seventy-three test subjects, no fewer than twelve haven’t come back. Twenty-six more have experienced various levels of difficulty adjusting to life back in the real world: three of them have been imprisoned, seven are under supervision for mental health problems, one has committed suicide and one died after being mauled by a Polar Bear. He was naked at the time so we’re assuming that he was trying to have sex with it.

What I’m saying, Dr Marcus, is that opening up the Pandora’s Box of one’s subconscious isn’t something to take lightly. The apparatus is more addictive than crack and feels a million times better.

So I ask again: Do you really want to open the box?

Dr Edward Stone
Advanced Programmes


- to be continued.

Thanks to all who've read and voted. PLEASE let me know if there's anything you really want to see; I do requests.

RB

Thanks, I'll see if i canm think of any requests...
Plese wright more soon

Part 4

Part Four

It was rare, these days, for Elena to indulge her habit of self-bondage.

This was a special occasion, though.

It didn’t happen often because it took time – usually at least four hours. Plus, a coded file in her PDA had details of visiting dominants and submissives – male and female – across the globe. If Elena wanted BDSM she could pay, any time.

But right now she needed to scratch the itch before it developed. In twelve hours time she was going on a trip which felt like a cross between the Apollo programme, psychoanalysis and an exorcism.

Elena needed to get as much sexual desire out of her system.

Inside the apparatus, desire is the enemy. If your subconscious isn't overwhelmed with sexual desire, you can stay in much better control

She figured that the best way of doing that was to give herself as massive an orgasm as she could, and however good the orgasms she had from regular sex, she never came the way she did when she tied herself.

The company provided her with a rented ranch house an hour’s drive from the city closest to the research laboratory. Secluded, with its own grounds and a small but functional – and soundproofed - barn,which is where Elena lay at the moment.

Not that many of the company’s representatives would have recognised her right now. She looked like nothing so much as some species of exotic insect caught in a web.

The business suit was gone. Instead, she wore an matching ensemble in scarlet latex – stockings, attached to a bodice which laced down the front. On her head was an open-faced hood of the same material, and her blonde hair was pulled out in a pony tail through a gap near the top of her head.

Elena writhed in a self-imposed agony. She was attached to a padded x-shaped frame, leant backward at 45 degrees. Black lambskin cuffs held her wrists and ankles, each one shackled to a clip with a digital timer. Until the timer reached zero, it was impossible to remove. (Elena had picked these up from a security trade show she’d visited a year before. They weren’t available on the open market. Certainly made life a lot easier than all that ‘freezing the key in a block of ice’ stuff.) The nipples of her exposed breasts were caught up in complex metal clamps attached to servomotors which randomly pinched, twisted, pulled, vibrated and every now and then delivered a sharp electrical charge across the sensitive flesh.

Piston-mounted dildos were arranged at her vagina and anus, their speed and depth of penetration also random, and also carrying electrical charges. Additionally, pipes attached to the phalluses carried a special mixture of methyl cellulose – the closest thing to artifical semen available on the market. They ‘ejaculated’ every few minutes, gushing warm, sticky fluid into her body.

The x-shaped frame itself was also mechanical –it could be set to allow random sets of tiny spikes to emerge at intervals and pierce Elena’s sensitive buttocks, thighs and back. However, Elena had turned off that function before she started, not wanting to leave any marks on skin that could be seen by Eddie and his crew later that day.

Elena’s body was picked out in halogen spotlights attached top the walls of the barn. This allowed the cameras which recorded her struggles to get a good shot. Elena was recording herself from all angles, relaying the shots to a bank of screens suspended above her head. However, her eyes had been closed tight for many minutes now. Her flesh and the latex covering parts of it glistened – several tubes were set up to fire further jets of the semen mixture across her face, breasts, belly and legs at random intervals.

By the time the session was finished, Elena would have used around thirty gallons of the mixture, and her body would be caked.

Not that she realised, but she was seventy five minutes into a ninety-minute session. Her body had long lost any idea of the difference between pleasure and pain. All the various elements of her private torture rack could be set to varying levels of intensity, but today she was going to set records, both for duration and level of pain.

Desire is the enemy…

It was in an attempt to purge that desire from her body that she’d submitted to a session which even she found daunting.

Her breath came in heavy, ragged gasps around the bit gag in her mouth. Her body heaved and her whined as another set of white bolts of electricity set her nipples on fire, pushing her into yet another orgasm. The first had come after no more than ten minutes on the machine.

She’d spent over two hours calibrating, filling the reserve tanks on the cum reservoir, setting the program in the master control computer. Then another ninety minutes had been spent bathing, perfuming herself, trimming her pubic bush, and above all applying the makeup that made her look as whorish and slutty as possible, with scarlet lipstick on her mouth, nipples and pussy lips. Then the careful process of dressing in the rubber outfit – one of several dozen – then out to the barn, teetering on the impractical ballet boots, already feeling herself begin to enter subspace in her mind.

Breathing heavily, she had set the system to activate when the last cuff was closed. Watching the screens come into focus, showing her form on the rack, had pushed her heartrate further up, and she had trembled as she applied the clips, gasping with lust rather than pain as they bit into her puckered, hard nipples. They wouldn’t fall off unless she wanted them to – the servos were controlled by an offshoot of the robotics programme the company was working on in Calfornia. If a clamp detected it had lost grip, it would just swing down and get a better hold again.

With one last check that everything was in place, she had taken a deep breath and closed the clip on the last cuff around her right wrist. Sensing this, the machine began its work of torturing her, and she sighed as the cocks slid slowly and perfectly into position inside her.

Minutes later, recovering after her first orgasm, she realised ruefully how far she still had to go, but her attention was soon drawn away by a jet of the warm, sticky, salty fluid splashing her mouth. Within an instant, she was again turned on and internally urging the machine to do its worst.

It did. Now, over an hour later, and still with fifteen minutes to go before she was released, she had been through so many orgasms that she could no longer separate them in her mind. All she felt was one near-continual orgasmic state, the pain just another sensation to her overloaded senses.

Eventually, the digital timers moved from 89:59 to 90:00 and the machine abruptly shut down. The phalluses withdrew, the clamps disengaged and finally the cuffs opened. Elena’s limbs were all but useless, and she slid down onto the latex-covered matting below the frame, but she screamed – or as close as she could - at one final ultimate orgasm, her body reacting as strongly to the withdrawal of the torment as it had to the torture itself. . As she did so, the remainder of the semen was dumped on her from above, almost ten gallons deluging her body. Elena lay slumped and powerless, hovering on the edge of consciousness as the translucent fluid ran in streams across her body and pooled around her.

In a few moments, she stirred, and reached up to the back of her head to flip open the quick-release catch on her gag. It would be long moments before she could move any more than that, but when she did, she crawled on hands and knees to a waiting bed, set up low down on the floor of the barn. She slithered across the slick coating of the cum on her body and the latex flooring, and rolled into the white cotton. Abandoning herself to sleep, she knew that the bondage session was not really over; the cum that glistened on every inch of her body would dry as she dozed, caking hard and sticky across her flesh. She knew that she would have to pry the sheets from her, wrench her legs apart, and enter the shower still dressed, waiting for the water to dissolve the sticky mess that would glue her clothes to her body and hair.

At that second, she didn’t care. All that mattered was resting after the torture session.

But as she drifted off to sleep, one thought kept drifting through her brain.

Desire is the enemy…

* * * * *

Twelve hours later, she swept into the lab, every bit as assured as before. She didn’t show any sign of the butterflies which were richocheting through her stomach. Eddie was there, as before, and wearing what looked uncomforatbly like the same shirt he’d been wearing five days before.

Dear God, please let him have washed it in that time…

If Elena wasn’t visibly nervous, Eddie was. He practically jumped out of his seat as she came through the door.

“Doctor Marcus! Good morning… er, we’re all ready – I mean that is, I’m all re.. the apparatus is hot..er..”

Elena wondered for a microsecond whether she should just let him keep digging for the sheer entertainment value to her. No, too much to do.

“Eddie,” she nodded. “So: what do we do, where do we go?”

“It’s all here, Doctor Marcus, just as you asked. There aren’t any other staff here, just me. I guessed you’d want this as quiet as possible…”

“Good thinking. Lead the way.” She gestured to the door at the other end of the laboratory, which bore the sign: SECURITY LEVEL BLACK (SPECIAL) ABSOLUTELY NO ADMITTANCE.

Eddie walked to the door and inserted a pass key into a slot, then bent towards a panel on the wall for a retina scan. The door clicked and whirred for a moment, as if considering his credentials, then slid back.

The chamber beyond the door was far bigger than the laboratory. Circular and dimly-lit, at the centre was a circular podium on which stood a cylindrical wire cage with bars six inches or so apart, large enough to hold a human. At the top of the cage was a kind of helmet attached to a forest of wires.

Around the edge of the podium were several computer terminals with a combination of conventional screens and a variety of dials and indicators. The room was warm with the smell of electrical energy.

“That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it. Welcome to the apparatus.”

Elena stood and stared at it for a moment or two. The smell of the energy and the hum of the transformers reminded her of the night before, the memory sending sparks across her nipples and vulva.

Desire is the enemy… Out here you’re in control, but in there desire makes you a slave..

“I haven’t been able to get the timer extraction system working – did I mention that?”

“No, Eddie, you didn’t. What the hell, I’ll take my chances. I’m no lab rat, I think I’ve got a better chance than most of staying in control. How do I get out?"

"When you decide to - either on a conscious or subconscious level."

"Just click my ruby-red slippers and I'm home, right?"

"Something like that, I guess. I think that the subconscious and the conscious mind have to want the same thing at the same time, and it happens... maybe because the 'tuning' I told you about isn't there anymore. It gets easier the more times you do it."

“Hm. Okay, let’s get on with it. Where do you want me?” The subtle flirtation was deliberate; keeping Eddie on the back foot.

“Ummm, well – I guess I should have told you earlier…”

Elena gazed at him levelly. Eddie flushed bright red and didn’t meet her eyes.

“You need to be naked when you go through. I mean, you don’t have to be but any clothes the subject wears don’t survive the process. I think it’s because they aren’t registered in your subconscious, if you know what I mean.. I mean, you could wear the clothes but you wouldn’t have anything to wear when you came out, and I know we could always get you something else…”

He was burbling. Elena cut in.

“Spare me. I understand. You get the machine started, I’ll get naked.”

He paused for a moment, nodded, and turned away. Elena stripped off her jacket and pulled her blouse out of her pants. Dressing that morning, she’d deliberately chosen an unsexy outfit – fawn trouser suit with a white blouse.

Desire is the enemy…

“This is research, Eddie”, she called over her shoulder. “Don’t be embarrassed. You don’t get embarrassed by taking you clothes off in front of your doctor, do you…?” Actually, you probably do…

Slipping out of her panties – the least sexy she could find but still black and lacy – she turned round. She stole a quick glance at her nipples – still looking slightly sore and puffy after the night before, but nobody who didn’t know her would realise.

Eddie turned away from the computer and felt his mouth go dry. Elena Marcus was everything under her clothes that he’d expected. Long limbs, peaches-and-cream complexion with full, pert breasts and broad hips.

He swallowed. Twice.

“This may be research, Eddie, but it’s still rude to stare…”

Stone shook his head. “Sorry.. I just.. erm..”

“What?”

“I just need to um.. attach these monitor electrodes…”

“Where?”

She was naked and in his environment, but he was the one who was suffering acute embarrasment, unable to meet her eyes.

“Well, we need to monitor your heart and your brainwaves, so…”

“Okay, go ahead.” She stood motionless, daring him to come to her.

Stop it Elena… stop tormenting the poor boy.. she thought for a moment. Then she remembered: Desire is the enemy…

Businesslike again, she walked over to the steps up to the podium. “I presume you want me here.”

“Yes, please…”

She walked up the last three steps to the top of the podium itself, and suddenly a wave of fear washed over her. Stone was fixing the electrodes to her chest, just above the swell of her breasts, and then fixed others to each side of her head. Elena ignored him, gazing instead at the metal wire of the cage.

This is it. Do I really want to do this? Stone’s words in the email came back to her: Do you really want to open Pandora’s Box?

Not that it mattered. Backing down now was an impossibility. Not because of Stone’s opinion of her, but because of her own. She never backed down from anything.

But what is on the other side?

There was the rub. Having come this far, she couldn’t go back without finding out. The question would always be gnawing at her mind.

Stone had finished. He climbed down the stairs and sat down at the terminal.

“Okay, er Doctor Marcus, here’s what’s gong to happen. If you step into the cage, and close the door behind you…”

Elena obeyed. The metal of the cage was shockingly cold, unnaturally cold after the warmth of the room. She closed the door after her, hearing it shut with a click.

“Okay. Now the first thing that’ll happen is that the helmet will lower onto your head so that the MRI can map your consciousness…”

“How long does that take?”

“Only about a minute. Then I’ll switch on the tachyon mesh and it’ll sweep across you.”

“And then?”

“Well…”

“Okay, I get it. Then it’s up to me, right?”

Stone nodded.

“Okay, Eddie, let’s get going. I’m getting cold here.”

Stone pressed a button and the helmet lowered itself the twelve inches until it rested on Elena’s head. She felt a slight warmth in her scalp as the machine did its job. It was almost relaxing, and she willed her racing pulse to come under control, closing her eyes and breathing slowly and deeply.

In a short time, the helmet raised itself up again.

“Okay, Doctor Marcus, I’m going to turn on the mesh. It’ll appear beneath your feet. When you’re ready, nod at me and I’ll set it in motion. It’ll travel up the cage and you’ll be on your way to wherever you’re going to.”

Elena nodded, not trusting her voice not to betray her tension.

Except it’s not just tension. It’s that dryness in the mouth and the hollow feeling in the stomach which wasn’t just tension… it felt like this the first time I realised I was about to have sex…

Stone threw a switch. There was a rising hum and beneath Elena’s feet a fine mesh of rays of light appeared, dull at first but brightening to a blue-white radiance. It seemed to be reflecting the light around it, like a mirror…

Elena gazed, fascinated.

“When you’re ready, Doctor Marcus…”

Stone’s voice jolted her back to the moment. She took a deep breath and nodded at Stone, who looked down at the console and pressed another button. Beneath Elena’s feet, the mesh tightened, looking now like a sheet of mirrored glass. It began to rise up the sides of the cage, and Elena felt like she was being immersed in freezing cold liquid as it climbed over her feet, her ankles and up her legs.

Mustering more courage than she felt, she looked at Stone and said “Through the looking glass…”

He looked up from his terminal, puzzled, and gave what was obviously meant to be an encouraging smile.

The mesh reached mid-thigh and suddenly speeded up, engulfing Elena’s body in little more than a second. Just as it closed over her head, the thought came to her again.

Desire is the enemy…

...to be continued.

For the want of other more descriptive words, "WOW". What a story you are weaving for us to read. I like it. Keep it going and we shall be here to read it up, all of it.
Thank you. Such a wonderful imagination. A big 10 for you from me. :beer:

Wow great story so far! Thank you for sharing. More please :)

this is insanely great!

can't wait to see the next part. i wonder where she'll end up?

Thanks for all the comments, and votes.

I'll try to break the chapters up into smaller chunks - more frequent updates!

More soon...