Chapter 1: Welcome to Earth!

What a strange dream. There I am lying in bed when the ceiling opens up. A faint flickering light comes throughalong with shuffling, inconsistent sounds of movement. There’s a vapor sifting in, heavy and sweet-smelling, and then the dream ends.

My first thought on waking up was that I must’ve knocked the pillow out of bed and my sheets felt different. A strange aftertaste lingered in my mouth and the dream, half-remembered, still nagged at me. Still, I was calm enough until I opened my eyes. Then I quickly bounced out of bed, suddenly as wide awake as if a bucket of water had been dropped on me. I had no idea what this room might be, but the one place I could be sure I was not was my little one-bedroom apartment. It seemed to be the inside of a stone building. The room was large enough to fit my apartment twice over and at least three meters high. There was daylight coming through some tall, thin windows across from the bed, and – suddenly my observations were interrupted by the heavy wooden door to my right creaking open. A white-bearded, slightly wrinkled face peeked in at the bed, then grinned seeing I was up and stepped inside. He was dressed in a long robe from head to foot, colored in a deep blue, and carrying a brown satchel. Seeing me back away from him in alarm, he halted, dropped the bag and raised his hands palm-outward in a universal peaceful gesture.

“gala-bala-bum streeshknh?” he asked ... and for some reason expected an answer.

“Ummm...” I ventured, while looking for any other door than the one the crazy old guy in a blue dress was blocking.

“Ah, nukka-bukka-sam-bam pashtrin-bala!” he waved me toward the bed with one hand while opening the bag on the floor with another. I gave up. Whatever was happening was just too strange. Lacking any idea whatsoever as to how to proceed (short of jumping out the window) I allowed my knees to buckle and sat back down on the edge of the bed, just noticing that instead of a polyester blend it seemed to be covered in a heavy natural fabric – linen?

Gibbering on in his own language, the old man brought a few objects from the bag and stopped in front of me. Gesticulating at his ear then at my own, he held out what looked like a small acorn. Taking it from him and finding that, sure enough, it was an acorn, I stared in confusion. He repeated the earlier signals, gesturing at the fruit in my palm then pointing with his finger at his ear, then at me. No shit.

“Stick your acorn in your own damn ear you old freak!” I felt like knocking him out then and there, my panic growing with every new oddity. He backed away slightly, bowed and raised his hands again to placate me, but then kept insisting until, finally, what the hell ... I raised the stupid acorn to my ear and wedged it in. For a second nothing happened then a deafening, cracking sound and an immense pressure inside my ear sent me reeling backwards onto the bed. Surprisingly, there was very little pain from the shattering acorn, and I soon jumped back up ready to really knock the old bastard’s teeth out this time. Far from thinking he’d done anything wrong, he was staring at me with an intent, expectant, predatory look on his face. He quickly raised one hand as I started towards him:

“Wait! Wait, just wait a moment, will you? You are perhaps able to understand me now!”

“What the hell!” I stopped in my tracks and stared blankly at him.

“Aha! Good.” He reached out and turned my head, peering into the ear he’d assaulted. “No bleeding, even; you’re lucky.”

“What the hell is going on?” I finally burst out in sheer panic and bewilderment “Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you think you’re doing to me and-” I kept going for a while. Mr. Wizard, as I finally realized I should call him, rolled his eyes at me, grabbed his little brown satchel and just sat down on the bed, looking at me with an alternately amused and bored expression.

“Done?” He asked as I wound down “Well, good, because I couldn’t understand a word you said. Don’t look at me like that, and no, please don’t start up again. Just listen, good man, there is an easy way to speed this up: trust me. Look, I haven’t actually hurt you in any way yet, have I? And you must be curious about all this, so let us finish these preparations so we may have a simple conversation. Don’t worry, this next part isn’t nearly as bad.”

I gave up and accepted a little vial of green liquid and drank it down – horrible stuff, like medicinal alcohol combined with vomit and rancid oil - then washed it down with the flask of water he thoughtfully provided. At least it was better than a bomb in my ear.

“Horrible stuff, I know.” he continued “We’ve been doing this for a century now and never found any reliable way to make it taste like anything but sweat and paint-remover. Well, what are you waiting for, you can talk now.”

“W-what?” I stammered incredulously, still trying to get the taste of the potion out of my mouth.

“Yes, what, very good. I suppose the ‘what’ is the elixir you drank. Never mind the ingredients, best not to know” he shuddered.

“So you can understand me now? How is that possible, is this, what, magic?”

“Yes, of course. We’re quite skilled here, far more advanced than the primitive curses and blessings you might be familiar with in your world. Why just in my own tower, I’ve...” He trailed off, staring at me staring at him. “Though from the look on your face, your world might not have much magic at all?”

“Um, none, actually. I mean, we have stories about it, but-”

“Oh, when will you people learn?” He started pacing the room in exasperation “Not everything can be solved with levers and wheels and, I mean, how does a civilization gain any footing at all without the elementary workings of...” He sighed, seeming to remember he was meant to be carrying on a conversation, and turned back to me. “But I beg your pardon. I am here to welcome you to our world, put to rest any questions you may have to which I possess answers, and finally to entreat your aid.”

I braced myself for bad news as he clasped his hands behind his back and stared into the distance as if he were delivering a lecture.

“Welcome, good sir. My name is Classus. You are no longer in your own realm of existence. This is the city of Espera, the only one of its magnificence in this world. Please do not ask me the methods by which you were brought here – we cannot divulge our secrets. Suffice it to say it was done at great effort and material cost, for our need is dire. We wish to ask that you remain with us for some years. No need for alarm!” He quickly added, seeing my eyes widen. “We will not keep you here forcefully, and no matter the length of time you spend here, we can return you to the same moment in time in your own world. We also believe that the terms of your stay on Earth ... or is that your term for your own world as well? Well, no matter, that seems to be the way of things – we believe the terms of your stay will be more than pleasant for you.” I believe the words ‘shit-eating grin’ were invented exactly for the old creep’s expression in that second. “You may even grow to call it home. I trust the rest of our conversation would proceed more smoothly if I were to give you a short length of time to consider the matters of which we’ve already spoken?”

“Yes, please ... one question, though. Am I dreaming?”

“If you were would it be such a terrible dream?” Asked the wizard with a slight smirk “And it only gets better. In any case, I will return in the morning. I shall also send some servants in to care for your needs until then. The subjects of this land are my own, and I offer you their use freely” he intoned as if this were a common good-bye, and as I was still chewing on that last remark, closed the door behind him. The panes of glass on the far wall were bathed in orange light. I let myself fall back on the bed and stared at the nice, peaceful ceiling for a while.

It wasn’t long before I heard a slow, insistent knock on the door. That at least was reassuring, suggesting I was being treated as a guest and not a prisoner. I walked over to the immense mass of wood and strained at the handle, slowly turning it open. Whatever Classus’ wizardly power might amount to, the door was certainly mundane enough: a huge expanse of fresh wood, covered in what looked to be a bit of lacquer, bound here and there with strips of iron as wide as my palm. I lost all concern for it though, once I saw what was behind it.

I found myself staring into the eyes of a tall, powerfully-built woman. Her complexion looked European, her long black hair was tied behind her back and she sported a golden armlet. Most striking, though, was her dress. She wore a golden collar around her neck. From it, all about her body, dangled dozens of fist-wide strips of lightweight red cloth which fell in a relaxed way to her only other accessory, a belt, looping once through it then dropping to below her knees. Maintaining eye contact, she kneeled, leaning toward me, and crossed her wrists palm-upwards below her chin, cupping her hands slightly. Her face was a bit squarish, with a high forehead. Though apparently young, it was impossible to guess her age.

“Glad your presence, free your gifts, Sire. My name, if it please you, is Cara.” She stood again slowly, a slick, muscular thigh momentarily parting the hanging red strips of fabric. “I am to bring you servants to see to your wishes tonight. May we begin by building a fire? The Sires Magister expect a chilling fog after midnight.” She gestured at several younger girls behind her, all of which were carrying various bundles.

“Umm, yes, thank you, yes of course.” I struggled to maintain my composure, faced with her somewhat intimidating presence. At this, she smiled, gave a slight nod and stood aside gesturing to her companions. They filed past without saying a word, each glancing at me but seemingly afraid to look me in the eye. There were four of them, all dressed exactly like Cara. As they walked from the dim hallway to the sunset-lit room, my breath stopped in my throat: the dresses were their only clothing! The very first girl, a middle-eastern-looking, voluptuous young woman, was carrying a bucket of steaming water in front of her, leaning her shoulders back a bit to offset the weight. Her posture caused the strips of cloth to separate around her chest, letting the tops of two creamy mounds of flesh peek through, topped by large, dark aureoles. The next girl, stepping quickly in with a heavy bundle of wood, showed her bare hip, and as she and the third one bent to drop their burdens next to the fireplace, they offered glimpses of bare buttocks. I felt my face burning and turned away to stare at the window. I heard the girl with the bucket filling a wash-basin on a stand next to me as the last woman placed several object on the windowsill.

“There is soap and a blade, Sire.” Intoned Cara from the doorway.

“Err, yes, thank you.”

“You are most gracious, Sire. There is also a mouth-brush.”

“Right. Good.” I studiously kept my eyes fixed at the sky outside, my head swimming, trying not to fixate on the glimpses of flesh I’d gotten so far.

“We do not know how long your trip has lasted, Sire.”

“Yes, of course.”

“May I have your servants bring you a bath, then?” She continued in an uncertain tone.

“Yes, good, right.” I answered mechanically, and before I realized what I’d said, she’d already sprung into action.

“Sellie, Nilappe, bring more hot water. We will see to your meal, Sire. We have pheasant tonight, and also chickens and a lamb from the farms. There are potatoes and beans and peas with sauce. What is your desire?”

This was getting surreal. I sheepishly answered “chicken and potatoes” and heard them finally march out of the room. I continued staring out the window, trying to calm myself by finding something familiar on which to rest my eyes.

The countryside at least looked peaceful enough. It was a pastoral landscape, not quite as grungy as I knew a medieval town should be, yet still inescapably pre-industrial. I seemed to be in a fairly high tower. Classus probably wanted to show off, give me a room with a view. Or maybe keep me from hopping out. Below me, the palace grounds stretched to impressive scale, about ten levels down as I could make it and wide enough that it looked like a miniature city in itself. There were no defensive walls or arrow towers. Past it on all sides stretched rows of buildings, many identifiable as dwellings but others in alien configurations, some of these belching enough smoke to make me question my earlier assessment of this civilization as pre-industrial. A few animal sounds and human voices drifted up. Still, it was quiet, eerily so to an ear accustomed to the screech of an information-age city. Aside from the improbable scale of the palace and some oddly-colored smoke, there was little or no sign of magic.

My meditations were interrupted by the sound of the door. Glancing around, I saw the first two young women from before wheeling in an oversized bucket of steaming water. As tempting as it was to try to catch a glimpse of bare flesh as they moved about, I forced myself to look away and busied myself with the basin of cooling water in front of me. I decided against trying to shave with the straight-razor just yet. The “mouth-brush” seemed straightforward enough and kept me busy while the two emptied the water into a large, recessed, smooth marble pit in one corner of the room. The fireplace was heating up by now and my panic was subsiding. I splashed some water on my face and waited. Cool and comfortable, with an equally comfortable roaring fire behind me. There was less and less chance that this would turn out to be a dream. Soon afterwards, I heard the tell-tale sound of wheels on stone and the girls giggling as they came in with the second half of the water. The giggling stopped abruptly as they entered, but they ventured to look me in the eye and smile this time around. They emptied the huge bucket again through a spigot in its side and nudged it back toward the door, loose cloth swishing as they walked. As I thought they were about to leave, they instead turned and pranced quickly toward me, leather sandals slapping the stone. They stopped a step or two in front of me and performed the same ritualized greeting Cara had used, kneeling and cupping their crossed, upturned palms below their chins as they looked me in the eye. They both had middle-eastern features and skin tone, dark wavy hair down to their shoulders, both more than a head shorter than me, one slightly thinner than the other.

“Glad your presence, free your gifts, Sire.” They both repeated, not quite in a chorus, grinning and barely restraining nervous giggles.

“Please, get up” I said, trying not to try to get a glimpse of their cleavage between the shifting red layers of cloth.

They rose quickly, pushing a few strands of hair out of their faces, bosoms shifting beneath their dresses. The one whose physique was a bit more filled out started talking again. As she stood, the layers of her dress had rearranged so as to leave one breast free, a heavy, perfectly rounded, delicious looking grapefruit topped by a large dark areola and a proud, tapered nipple. She didn’t seem to mind my glance in the least bit (though she couldn’t have missed it) and made no attempt to cover up again, smiling as she talked.

“You are most gracious, Sire. My name, if it please you, is Sellie. Cara sends word that your meal will be sent up within the hour and begs your leave to eat at your table tonight.”

Now there is something which I have not mentioned as yet. At the time I was abducted by ... humans ... I was asleep. This means I was in my pajamas. Plain gray, long sleeves and pants, nice comfortable cotton blend. And no underwear. Lost in this new world, my clothing had not been a concern until now. As terrified as I’d been at first, even the dance of the seven veils wouldn’t have gotten a rise out of me. Now, though, after relaxing a while, and under the constant influence of the servants’ unusual attire, the girls’ presence was no longer just bewildering and embarrassing, but arousing, and I wanted to get the conversation over with before my problem became visible.

“Yes, Sellie, please tell her that would be ... good.” I swallowed and tried as best I could to ignore the lovely single tit begging to be squeezed in front of me, expecting them to leave. I could feel my bloodflow shifting around my genitals. They stood their ground, though, still smiling pleasantly and the slimmer one piped up.

“If it please you, Sire, my name is Nilappe. Do you wish our service bathing?” She motioned gently with her head toward the marble tub in the corner.

I froze. Were these two gorgeous creatures offering to strip me down and bathe me? I stared for a couple of seconds, my jaw going slack, then quickly shook my head and managed to say “No, thank you, I’ll manage, I’m fine, really.” This time it was I who caught them sneaking a peek down to my midsection. Their smiles broadened and Sellie insisted:

“Most gracious, Sire, but there is time enough for leisure before your meal. Will you allow us to make your experience more ... pleasant?” Her nimble tongue darted out to moisten her soft, full lips.

“No, no, really, you can leave, it’s alright.” I swallowed again, watching their smiles fade a bit. Then they gave each other an encouraging look and Nilappe gave it one last try: