Chapter 10

Saturday, August, Year 0

Fog swirled around Tim. Everywhere, white, gray, black specks. No, not fog, snow. Like an untuned vacuum-tube television. No form, no color, just snow. Tim looked around, trying desperately to see something, or someone. He could walk, he discovered, but even the ground was snow.

Where am I?

A chair appeared. Black, looked to be made of wood, with a leather seat. Four legs, arm-rests and a tall back. Not ... quite a throne, but definitely for someone in authority. He tried to get closer, but it stayed just out of reach.

What the... ?

The snow began to clear, resolving into a ... room? Thick shag carpet spread from the chair’s feet. Gauzy drapery sprang up in a wide circle. The fabric tented to a point, about fifteen feet or so right above the chair. Tim moved to a wall, sweeping the material aside. More hung behind. He dug through that, but couldn’t find an actual wall, nor space. Soon he was swimming in the stuff, fighting his way clear.

A laugh trilled behind him.

“There is no exit. It will make more and more until you’re hopelessly lost in the walls.” A woman’s voice tinkled. “Please come back.”

Tim struggled back into the room. A model stood beside the chair, which was still the only furniture. Dark red hair hung to her butt. Stormy eyes pierced him. Blue? No, wait, green? Were they changing color? High cheekbones, pouty lips, upturned nose. The face of an angel. This woman could grace the cover of any magazine, and need no Photoshop improvement. She was slender, but still curvy. The largest pair of perky breasts defied gravity from her chest. Large, puffy areolae pointed at the ceiling. Tight, oval tummy leading down to a bright-pink pussy in the gap between her thighs. A tiny tuft of the same red hair just above her clit. Legs for days, even dainty feet and cute toes. An absolutely perfect woman. Not a teenager for sure, though if pressed Tim would’ve been at a loss to guess her age.

When Tim felt himself get hard, he tried to let it lengthen down a pant-leg. And that’s when he discovered he was naked as well. The woman cocked an eyebrow, smirking as he went all the way to full erection. Hey, if she wasn’t going to run screaming from the ... room? He’d happily let her look and...

“I see you’re enjoying the view.” She remarked. “Good—”

A pause, like a freeze-frame on video.

“—heterosexual male.” She continued. “The easiest to get along with. Thank you for joining me.”

“You’re welcome.” Tim mouthed.

No sound. He tried again, but no luck.

“Please have a seat.”

And Tim found himself cross-legged on the floor, a cushion underneath his ass. His dick pointed up from his lap, swaying in the still air. The woman sat in the chair, but then spread her legs, dangling one over each armrest. Her outer lips parted, ever so slightly. Enough for him to see she was tight as hell. He longed to bury his tongue or his cock, or even just a finger in that lovely flower.

“You may pleasure yourself.” The woman gestured.

Tim’s hands encircled his prick. He kept his jacking slow, and the woman followed suit. She rubbed her clit, occasionally dipping a finger inside to collect moisture.

Tim realized his own hands felt wet. He looked down, but they appeared dry. And it didn’t feel like his hand, more like ... a pussy. Wrapped around him, sheathing him from tip to root. He shrugged, nice view, pleasurable sensations, what’s not to enjoy?

“Pay attention!” The woman snapped. “Listen to what I’m saying, and remember. If you become distracted, I will show you my current appearance.”

The scene shifted. It was the same woman, but her hair was pulled back, and tucked under a light-blue shower cap. Her eyes were closed, and an oxygen tube poked into her nostrils. A ring-gag, like something from BDSM held her lips open. The drool that drained from her mouth was collected by a funnel positioned underneath her chin. A tube ran from it to a container off to the side. Her chair looked like the stirrups you’d see at a gynecologist’s office, only oriented vertically. The outside of her buttocks rested on small shelves, but her crotch was unobstructed. Her arms and legs were strapped down, and an IV ran to each arm. One dispensed clear fluid, the other a milky-gray substance. An enema tube ran from her asshole, and a catheter to her pee-hole. A speculum held her vagina open, with another funnel positioned just underneath that opening. Clear lubrication flowed into another tube that ran to a second container. Breast pump cups covered her nipples, with tubes draining milk to a third.

It was the most frightening medical-torture scene he’d ever witnessed. He gulped back bile. He blinked, and the woman was once again spread-eagled, playing with herself.

What was that?!

As if to answer his question, the woman explained.

“That is how I look, right now. I’m being held captive, by my own family. What you’re experiencing is a ... message I’ve included with every Source they force me to produce. There’s limited storage, so I will explain as much as I can with what little time I have.”

The woman held her other hand underneath her pussy. A marble-sized orb dropped free, into her palm. She held it up between her fingers. The sphere seemed spongy, the same color as the woman’s skin, with streaks of red pulsing just beneath the surface.

“This is what they put in you. It’s what gives you the abilities you’ve discovered. That you’re seeing and hearing me means you’ve successfully passed the first three Tests. You’ve discovered that you can do this!”

A blink, and the woman was transformed. Red skin, horns, tail, wings: the whole bit. In this form, her sexual allure struck him like a blow. He had to stop jerking off, because he nearly came and he wasn’t sure if that would make this wet-dream end.

This is a dream, right? Can you be aware while you’re dreaming?

Another instant, and her normal form was back.

“So, you’ve the Will. That form is actually my original one. A holdover from my world. The Source imprints it on you, as well as all other previous forms. The Source has traveled to many worlds, to mine, where my father discovered it, from there to yours, through me. It took my father a long, long time, and much trial and error to unlock its secrets. Luckily for him, the more control he gained, the longer he lived. For we are a long-lived race, much longer than yours. Even so, my father is considered ancient by our standards, and appears in no danger of passing anytime soon. He rules my entire world now, along with my uncles. It was he who sent me here. His hope was that I would conquer your world for him, increasing his dominion. Your race is softer than mine, shorter lived, and in his opinion, stupider. So, he figured a “woman’s touch” would be most successful.