The World Possessed

1.

My own story starts in the early years of the twenty-first century. I was a 30-year-old scientist. In those days, strange though it is to recall, most scientists were men, like me. I do not intend to spend long on the details of my life or the work that I did. In brief, however, I was considered an expert at the design and construction of instruments for the measurement of particle energy. Specifically, at the time, I was working on building collectors for the fundamental particle that was known as the 'Higgs Boson'. I lived for most of the year in London, where I was a Fellow at Imperial College. I shared my time between that institution and CERN in Switzerland, where the devices I built were ultimately deployed in the large hadron collider.

So it was, late one evening, I was in my laboratory. I was alone, all other members of the department had left for the day. I had run some new calculations through the computer and, as a result of what they had shown me, I wanted to make some changes to the device I was building. It was a large device, taking up most of the available floor space -- about three metres by two. With it I hoped to detect ultra-long wavelength particles with a half-life of just a few Pico-seconds. Absurd, I thought as I lay on my back under the delicate structure, that something built by my own hands could hope capture something so insubstantial and unlikely as a theoretical particle.

I made the final adjustments and, still lying beneath it, I reconnected the power. As I did so, I thought I saw something pulsing in the heart of the device. It was strange, during normal function the device should be unmoving and unchanged; its operation captured only by the computers to which it was connected. Foolish and unthinking, given the power flowing through the device, I pulled myself further under it to see the pulsing spot more clearly.

As I did so I recall the sensation of a shock passing through my body. Not a violent shock, but the sensation of all the hairs on my body standing on end, as if attracted to a static charge. The same sensation you get when holding a balloon close to your arm.

I cannot fully describe my next sensation. It was as if I had opened a door in a dark room and entering a hall of mirrors flooded with sunlight. I was blinded, dazzled and assaulted by a violent kaleidoscope of images. At the same time my body felt both stretched and compressed simultaneously.

I believe I must have been unconscious for a few minutes - I had a sense of disorientation and dislocation and everything went black. When I recovered my sight, the stretching and compression sensation had gone. However, the feeling of a build-up of static charge was stronger than ever. But far more frightening than this was that my device had apparently vanished. I was no longer surrounded by it, and I was unable to feel it when, painfully and gingerly, I stood up.

Not only had my apparatus gone, but I felt weak and insubstantial myself. However, as I clutched at a table for support, I realised that at least was solid, and when I rapped the top of it with my knuckles, the pain seemed real. Then I realised that my device had not entirely disappeared. Its shadowy, insubstantial presence still existed, glowing faintly in the dim light from the computer screens around. It seemed to be both 'there' and 'not there' at one and the same time. I turned on the main room lights and its presence seemed fainter still. I don't think I would have noticed it unless I knew where to look. Also, curiously, I felt as if I was a part of it, or that it was a part of me.

I moved from the laboratory into my office. I needed to think, I needed to use my computer to try to work out what could have happened. As I sat in my office chair I began to wonder if anything else had changed. Everything looked the same, but as I turned to scan the room I realised with a shock that the insubstantial presence of my device appeared to have followed me! It should have been out of sight, beyond a solid wall, but I could still see it, less than a metre away. I got up and moved - it appeared to remain the same distance away, no matter where I was, and I realised that it always remained in the same position relative to me.

I felt sick, my head was throbbing and I simply couldn't believe what had happened. The possible consequences dawned on me when I realised that I would have to account for the absence of tens of thousands of pounds worth of equipment and I began to sweat in terror. I tried to concentrate on my computer screen, but it was no good. The figures made no sense to me. After half-an-hour of futile effort, I decided that I would be unable to make any progress that night. So I shut down my systems, turned out the lights in the laboratory, and locked the door. I made my way out of the building and into the crowded streets of London.

In front of me all the time was the ghostly, insubstantial presence of my apparatus. It didn't seem to bother my fellow pedestrians, they walked through it and ignored it as if, for them, it did not exist. I walked in a trance with the strange companion that only I, apparently, could see. I caught an underground train and made my way to the flat where I lived alone. As I climbed the stairs to my first-floor apartment I felt as if I was dragging the entire weight of the apparatus with me and I was absolutely exhausted by the time I reached my front door. I stumbled inside and collapsed onto my bed where, fully clothed, I passed into a deep sleep.

I don't know what time it was that I awoke. It was still dark, but light came from the street outside where I hadn't bothered to draw the curtains. By this I saw that I was no longer alone. Standing by my bed was a woman. As far as I could see from her silhouette against the window, she had the most desirable figure of any woman I had ever seen, either in reality or in a movie. She seemed to tower over the bed, made taller by the long dark hair piled on top of her head. At first I thought she was naked, then I realised that she was dressed in a tight-fitting, one-piece suit that covered her completely, with the exception of her eyes -- and these were hidden by what appeared to be mirrored sunglasses. The suit gleamed like wet silver as she moved. It clung to her every curve, showing each detail of the skin beneath. Despite my confused and exhausted state my cock began to stir as I saw, clearly outlined beneath the shiny fabric, her hard nipples and prominent areolas.

She reached out and shook my arm roughly as if trying to wake me. "Where is your mistress?" she asked when she saw that I was already awake. Her words were strangely loud, expressionless and spoken in a peculiarly accented English. I shook my head - this seemed to be nonsense. "I'm sorry -- what do you mean?" I said.

Her grip tightened painfully on my arm, and without effort she pulled me out of bed, throwing me to the floor. "Fool of a slave!" She said. "Where is your mistress? Take me to her immediately!"

"I don't know what you mean!" I stammered. "I don't have a mistress -- I'm not a slave."

"Idiot!" She cried, kicking me hard in the ribs with the sharply-pointed toe of one high-heeled boot. "You're a man aren't you? Of course you're a slave with a mistress!"

"Look, I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're talking about. I don't know who you are, or why you're in my flat. I suggest you just get out before I call the police!"

The truth is that, by this time I felt afraid. This woman, although undeniably beautiful, was obviously strong and probably deranged; at any moment she might take it into her head to seriously injure, or even kill me. However, despite my fear, my cock rose stiffly again as she straddled me and I saw, at the top of her long thighs, swollen labia clearly outlined beneath the tight, shiny suit.

Instead of replying, she bent down and grabbed my shirt, hauling me to my feet as easily as if I had been a child. She held me up so that our eyes were level, my feet just touching the ground. Her mirrored shades eerily reflecting my pale face. I felt her piercing eyes boring into mine, even though I could not see them. After what seemed an age she dropped me. "Yes," she said, "there is sufficient intelligence, you could be telling the truth." She turned away and paced the length of my bedroom. "So -- who opened the gate?"

I didn't know whether to laugh or run. The urge for self-preservation won, and I began to move towards the door. She anticipated me, moving with unbelievable speed on her high stiletto-pointed heels, she blocked my exit. In her hand she held a long whip that she had uncoiled from her belt in a single, lightning-fast movement. She flexed it menacingly.

I held up my hands in what I hoped she would recognise as a gesture of surrender. "Look -- who are you?" I asked, "and why are you in my flat?"

The whip, tapering to an impossibly fine point, came hissing towards me, shredding the front of my shirt as if it had been slashed with a knife, but missing my flesh. "I warn you -- take one step towards this door and you will suffer."

I held my hands up again. "OK, OK. Look I'll sit on the bed. Just tell me who you are and what you want."

Remaining in front of the door, she coiled the whip and tucked it back into her belt. "My name is Mistress Leela, and I am looking for the scientist who has opened the gate."

"OK, I'm sorry, uh... Mistress Leela. I don't understand what you are talking about. I am a scientist, but I know nothing of any gate."

She shook her head, wonderingly. "You are a man -- how can you be a scientist?"

"I can assure you that I am. I am a research fellow at the University of London. My specialist field is the design and construction of sub-atomic particle detectors."

"Ah! We have a common understanding at last. What year is this?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What year is this -- the date you fool!"

I gave her the date. She shook her head and appeared to be calculating. "I see," she said. "What do you know of the mnim?"

"It means nothing to me, I've never heard the word."

"Yes, of course. So you have no Goddess in London?"

I gave a small, nervous laugh. "No goddess, but we have a mayor..."

"I am not interested in this 'mayor'!" She snapped. The, throwing back her head, she laughed -- a chilling and sinister laugh.

"Now I can see that I have succeeded and the Goddess will have endless power! But where is the gate? It must be near!"

She began to look around the room, as if searching for something. Suddenly she stopped and pointed in front of me. "There -- what is that?"

In the excitement since my waking I had forgotten it, hadn't noticed that it was still there. Now I could see it again, fainter and more transparent, but still undeniably there -- the ghost of my apparatus. I sat back on the bed.

"You see --it's like this..."

In a way it was a relief. To have someone else who could obviously see my strange incubus. I began to tell her the story of my experiment. I don't know why, but it felt good to share the experience, even with such an uncanny visitor.

2

As I spoke, she paced the room. At last she turned to face me.

"I understand. You have inadvertently created the gate through your ignorant meddling with dark energy. But, unfortunately, you yourself have become part of the mechanism." She made a gesture of annoyance. "It is ridiculous that I should have to rely on a fool of a man! I, the greatest scientist under the Goddess's moon!"

She moved to stand in front of me. "I wonder. Do you need to remain fixed in this time, or can I use you to control the gate's location?" She grabbed me again, lifting me effortlessly to my feet. "Well, that is soon answered." Still holding me with her left hand she began to press some studs on her elaborate silvery belt.

In front of us the ghostly echo of my apparatus began to solidify, and then to spin. Soon it looked like a whirling vortex of colour, shading from deep red at its edges to a bright violet centre that was gradually swallowed up by a spreading blackness. Once the blackness had become absolute, my visitor strode into it without hesitation, dragging me behind her.

There was a brief sensation of nothingness, of an absence of all sensation and then intense cold and a blinding light. I blinked and opened my eyes to find that my flat had gone. In its place we were surrounded by a greenish light, a warm breeze and smell of female musk so strong that my cock began to rise and I felt an overpowering erotic urge.

"It worked!" She cried triumphantly. "We're both here. This means that I can completely control the passage in both time and space between the present and when you created your gate!"

"But where are we?" I asked.

"In my laboratory, about two thousand five hundred years in your future." She answered.

I gestured around at what appeared to be a large, empty space, soft and yielding underfoot. The greenish light came from no discernable light-source. The ceiling and walls were pinkish-white, and seemed somehow organic, as if they were pulsing with their own, slow, living rhythm.

"This is a laboratory?" I said in amazement.

As I spoke I could see her running a finger around the neck of her suit. The material shrank away from her face, revealing golden-brown skin, a straight nose and full, red lips, although her eyes were still hidden by the mirrored shades. She ran her finger around her shoulders and the top of her legs -- the suit shrank away from her hands, arms and thighs until she was left wearing knee-length boots and a body-suit that covered her from her crotch to her throat. All were made of the same shiny, material, shimmering silver in the soft light.

She shook out her blue-black hair, which cascaded half-way down her back. "That's better," she said, running long, slender fingers, tipped with blood-red nails, through its thickness.

"Yes, this is my laboratory." She gestured and an elegant piece of equipment materialised close to me. It was strangely reminiscent of my own apparatus -- about the same size, but somehow more of a living organism than a thing of silicon and metal.

She moved over to it, touching it with her hands, almost caressing it. "This is my gate to the portal -- the equivalent to yours. We can use this to pass through to any place or time that is between the time at which you opened your gate and the time at which this gate exists."

"It seems that your gate remains in your time." She gestured towards me. "See -- it no longer accompanies you." Indeed it was true, I could no longer see the ghostly reminder of my own laboratory in the distant past.

She again touched some studs on her elaborate silvery belt. "There remains one more experiment -- to see if the portal will operate without your presence. You will stay here!" She ordered.

The apparatus that was her gate began to rotate and transform into a spinning vortex. She moved towards it as it transitioned from rainbow-coloured to black. As she moved into the throat of the vortex she seemed to foreshorten, as if moving away from me very fast. Almost immediately she began to grow again as quickly as she had diminished. The vortex blinked out of existence, and her gate was solid and real again.

She stumbled slightly, then recovered herself. There was a look of irritation on her perfect features.

"Unfortunately it would appear that the portal requires both your apparatus and your physical presence in order to operate. You seem to have inadvertently made yourself the key to your own gate!"

She began to walk up and down, speaking more to herself than to me. "That is a pity. I had hoped to dispose of you. Your presence will be an inconvenience. Until I can make other arrangements I will have to keep you alive. In which case your body will have to be improved."

She turned to me decisively. "Take off your clothes!" She ordered.

Aware of her power, I didn't think to disobey, but immediately stripped myself naked.

She walked around me, appraising my body. "You are not fit enough to withstand the demands that will be placed on you!" She said. She reached out and grabbed my balls, digging her sharp, red nails into the soft flesh. "These are pathetic -- they will have to grow." Despite my pain and humiliation, my penis rose unbidden as I looked longingly at her swelling breasts and hard nipples beneath the slick, taut fabric of her body suit.

"Your prick, too is feeble." She flicked it contemptuously with one nail. "It will not be of any interest to a woman of this time."

Mistress Leela stood in front of me, her legs spread, hands on hips. "We will begin your alteration soon. But first you must learn what is required of a man in the Goddess's world."

She ran her finger across the crotch of her suit, along the clearly delineated line of her cunt. The suit parted and drew away to reveal hairless labia that seemed to be swollen with desire. Licking her finger she inserted it between her cunt-lips, seeking out her swollen clitoris.

"Sex rules the world of the Goddess," she said, her voice suddenly soaked with lust, "men must serve the Goddess, and women are your goddesses." While, with the fingers of one hand she continued to frot her clitoris, she swept the other around both her breasts. Again, the material drew away to reveal firm, golden flesh beneath. Her nipples stood proud on top of her melon-sized breasts and now they were freed of their covering, they became even harder and more prominent. She caressed her breasts and pinched her nipples, gasping as she did so.

"On your knees!" She ordered. And without thought or hesitation I did as I was told. It brought my eyes to the level of her naked cunt, now dripping with the juice of her arousal. The scent was intoxicating, musky and lust-inducing. Even as I inhaled it, I could feel my prick swelling to a size it had never achieved in my life before. I felt that I had to have her, had to sink my prick into that luscious cunt. But somehow I knew that to do so would bring swift and painful punishment.

She noticed my arousal and smiled a cruel smile. "The first lesson you will learn is that, in this world, no man is ever permitted to come without the permission of a goddess. The more desperate and hungry for sex a man is, the better a goddess likes it. Men serve our needs and our needs alone, their desires are of interest to us only as they serve our needs."

As I watched she continued to stimulate herself, raising me to heights of lust I didn't know it was possible to achieve. Even as she masturbated she spoke to me, telling me of the world of the Goddess and what I could expect to find in it.

3

I don't know how long she kept me in what she called her 'laboratory'. It must have been weeks. I discovered that the laboratory was almost a world in itself, with furniture that appeared and disappeared as if it had a life of its own -- which I suspect much of it did. During all that time I had fleeting glimpses of other people, mostly women, all of them beautiful and dressed much as my captor. They looked through me, ignoring me as if I was not there. Mistress Leela spoke to the women in a language that at first I didn't understand, but which eventually became clear as a result of the memories she implanted in me.

There were also men, bald, naked and hugely endowed. Mistress Leela used them as servants, to fetch and carry. The men too completely ignored me, and it gradually dawned on me that no one except Mistress Leela could see me. Somehow she had made me invisible to all but her.

Three or four times a day she would order a man to lie on a low bench close to me. She would secure him by the bands he wore at his wrists, ankles and neck. Then she would straddle him, first sitting on his face and ordering him to lick her cunt. When she had achieved her first orgasm this way, she would impale herself on his huge prick. Riding the slave hard, she would achieve orgasm after orgasm, while the slave's prick stayed painfully stiff and engorged. Dismounting from him, she would appear to be crackling with energy and power, while the man seemed diminished; his body drained of blood, apart from his huge, throbbing member, thickly coated with her juices.