I Crossed a Door and Appeared in a World of Submissives

Bruno quickened his pace, holding his phone aloft as he recorded the cracks snaking across the ceiling of that ruined building. Perfect material for his channel. Perhaps, with a little luck, he might jump from seventeen to a hundred subscribers. An acquaintance from college had tipped him off about the location of what appeared to be an old abandoned sanatorium, and for someone obsessed with urban exploration, any forgotten place was worth its weight in gold.

He was not an agile man. He carried quite a few extra pounds and sometimes could not fit between railings or through gaps, but he always found a way. He studied engineering and was good at it; certainly better than he was at dealing with people. Women above all, who to him were as closed-off a territory as those dark corridors.

Years spent on bitter forums had convinced him that the world owed him something, that he deserved affection and desire he had never received. He walked along mulling over those ideas when, turning a corner, a fist grazed his jaw.

He stifled a cry. He aimed the phone’s flashlight, which was still recording, and a dying lamp sputtered just enough for him to dodge a kick. His attacker was stocky, silent, determined. Bruno did not waste his breath begging: he simply breathed. Nothing more was needed. The man stumbled in the half-light and struck his forehead against the rusty doorknob. He fell like a sack and did not move.

Bruno froze, convinced he had seen him die in some movie. He took the man’s wrist to look for a pulse and came across a watch that was no ordinary watch: a Swiss timepiece that, as he knew perfectly well, cost more than a car. He shrugged. An unconscious man did not need to know the time.

Then he heard a noise at the far end of the corridor, and fear crawled up his back. It would not be wise for them to find him beside a body, especially with that watch in his pocket. He ran. He shoved open a half-open door—while, on the other side, discovering that the noise had been made by a cat knocking over some boxes—and came face-to-face with an impossible room: computers, cables everywhere, and a metal cubicle in the center. Beside it, a gray-haired man smiled at him.

“They told me you were big,” the stranger remarked, taking off a pair of tiny headphones, “but not that big. Close the door and get in there.”

Bruno stood there stunned. The man had been listening to music; perhaps he had not heard the fight. He decided to play along so the man would not ask about the person in the corridor or the watch.

“I suppose they’ve already given you my name,” the other man continued. “I’m Doctor Salvador Vidal, and I have in my possession the third time machine the Corporation has built.”

Bruno cleared his throat and tried to conceal his bewilderment. It looked like an incredibly expensive laboratory hidden inside a building that was falling to pieces.

“The machine only has enough energy for a round trip,” Vidal explained. “Today you’ll make the outward journey; in three months, you’ll return to the exact same point at the exact same time. It works by exchange: it does not transport one thing, but changes the matter of two scenarios simultaneously. Your mission is simple: gather evidence, testify, return. Take the leather bag inside; it contains the identity you’re going to assume.”

“All right,” Bruno muttered, trying to breathe normally. “It’s my first time. How do I activate it?”

“A violet circle one and a half meters across will appear on the floor. Stand inside it and that’s it. You have twenty seconds before it switches on and another five before it disappears. Keeping it open costs a fortune, so get in right away.”

Bruno bent down to pass through the hatch, which was too low for his bulky frame. He did not notice that, when he crouched, his phone slipped from his pocket and was left forgotten on the laboratory floor. When he straightened up and picked up the bag, the violet circle was already glowing beneath his feet. A beep sounded. He closed his eyes.

***

He opened them to a warm breeze striking his face. There was no laboratory, no darkness, no sanatorium. He was standing in the middle of a broad avenue beneath an evening sky streaked with lights he did not recognize. The violet circle went dark beneath his shoes. It definitely was not the past: the buildings were too clean, too new, with an almost model-like sheen.

He searched for his phone and cursed when he could not find it. He started walking. Before long he noticed something strange: nearly everyone he passed was male, and more than one man strolled along quite naturally with a woman on his arm, the woman wearing barely anything and walking with a calm smile, like someone displaying a privilege. No one was scandalized. No one looked twice.

Bruno’s mouth went dry. He had read about worlds like this in comics and novels he devoured in secret, fantasies of domination in which male desire was law and women surrendered without reservation. He had always dismissed them as adolescent delusions. Now he was walking down one of their streets.

He stopped on a corner to take it in. Women were chatting on a café terrace, others were waiting at a bus stop, all dressed with the same uninhibited lack of modesty, and none of them uncomfortable about it. A man passed him and gave him a conspiratorial nod, as if welcoming him to a club Bruno had just joined without meaning to. In his own world he was invisible. Here, simply by being who he was, he seemed to belong to an elite.

He saw a luminous sign: “Welcome Office.” He pushed open the door. A woman in her thirties answered it, with dark hair and an alert gaze, dressed in gauze that left little to the imagination: her dark nipples showed through, as did the shaved shadow of her pubic mound. She neither covered herself nor stepped aside; on the contrary, she greeted him with a slow bow that opened her neckline down to her navel.

“Welcome, sir,” she said. “We’ve just opened. I’m Nadia, and my colleague is Vera. We both serve in this office. You may make use of us as you wish, provided you let us direct you afterward to wherever you need to go. It is our job, and we do it gladly.”

Vera appeared behind her, smaller, with fair skin and green eyes. She looked Bruno up and down without concealing her interest, pausing for a moment at the bulge in his trousers. Neither woman showed any fear. If anything, there was an anticipation that quickened Bruno’s pulse and began to swell his cock inside his underwear.

“Then I’m in the right place,” he said, and his voice sounded firmer than he expected.

He bolted the door behind him. For the first time in his life, no one was looking at him with pity or contempt. They were looking at him, waiting for an order, and he discovered that power rose through his blood like alcohol.

“Both of you, on your knees,” he said, his voice barely trembling. “Vera, take care of my cock. Nadia, take off that gauze. I want to see your tits.”

They both obeyed without a moment’s hesitation, and that promptness aroused him more than any nakedness. Nadia pulled the gauze over her head in one fluid motion and stood naked before him: medium-sized, firm breasts, large dark nipples already hard, a flat belly, and a shaved pussy revealing a shiny pink slit. Vera knelt in front of him and lowered his trousers and underwear with deft fingers, taking her time, looking up at him as she did so. Bruno’s cock sprang free, half-hard, thicker than it was long, and Vera smiled as if she had been given a gift.

“What a cock, sir,” she whispered, taking it in her hand and massaging it with her open palm until it was completely rigid. “I love it when they’re this thick. It’s going to fill my whole mouth.”

She kissed the tip first, a wet kiss that drew a ragged gasp from Bruno. Then she ran her tongue along it, from his balls to the glans, slowly, without stopping her gaze from meeting his. When she finally took the whole thing into her mouth, Bruno had to brace one hand against the wall to keep from collapsing. It was warm, wet, tight. She swallowed him to the base, gagging a little on purpose, then pulled it out with an obscene smack of saliva. Her lips gleamed.

“Easy, sir,” Nadia murmured from one side, kneeling too and caressing his balls with her fingertips. “We have all the time in the world. No one here is in a hurry to come.”

Nadia gripped his cock at the base while Vera kept sucking it hungrily, and began sucking his testicles one at a time, taking each completely into her mouth and tugging gently with her lips. Bruno let out an animal growl. Never in his life had he imagined two mouths working his cock at the same time, much less with such expert dedication. Vera had him deep in her throat and did not stop; Nadia licked his balls and every so often moved up to share his cock with Vera, their two tongues meeting around the glans as though they were kissing over it, threads of saliva hanging between their chins.

He tangled his fingers in Vera’s hair and set the rhythm. She followed happily, purring against him and letting herself be guided. Bruno grabbed her by the nape and began fucking her mouth with short thrusts, watching her eyes fill with tears and drool run down her chin to her small breasts. Vera did not pull away; on the contrary, she pressed her lips more tightly around his cock each time he pushed, making little gurgling sounds of pleasure when the glans touched the back of her throat.

“That’s it, sir,” she gasped when he let her breathe for a moment, a strand of saliva hanging between her lips and the tip of his cock. “Use my mouth however you like. That’s what I’m here for.”

Nadia rose and sought his mouth, and Bruno kissed her with eager clumsiness that she corrected patiently, biting his lip, whispering in his ear how well he was doing, guiding his hands to her tits so he could squeeze them. He kneaded them harder than he would have imagined daring, pinched her nipples until he drew a moan from her, and she arched her back against his hand as if she loved it. No one in his life had ever said anything like that to him; no one had ever offered him their body so naturally. He slid a hand down Nadia’s belly to her pussy and found her soaking wet; his fingers entered without resistance, and she rode them right there, rubbing herself against his palm.

“Slower,” he told Vera, not because he wanted to stop, but because he wanted it to last. Vera looked up, smiled around his cock, and obeyed, slowing every movement until it became unbearable, sucking only the tip with such a slow vacuum that Bruno felt every milliliter of suction.

“Get on all fours,” he then told Nadia, surprising himself with the tone of his voice. Nadia obeyed immediately, going on all fours over the entryway carpet and arching her back to raise her ass. Her buttocks were round and white, with two dimples at the small of her back. Between them, her pink, already-soaked pussy gleamed beneath the lamplight, and higher up was her tight, clean asshole, tempting him.

Reluctantly, Bruno pulled away from Vera’s mouth, approached Nadia from behind, and slid his cock—still coated in Vera’s saliva—between the lips of her pussy. She gasped and pushed her hips backward, seeking him impatiently. He drove into her in a single thrust, burying himself to the balls, and Nadia let out a long, guttural moan that raised goosebumps on his skin. She was tight, she was hot, and she was so wet that the sound of penetration was obscene, a splash that filled the room.

“Fuck me, sir,” Nadia begged, looking at him over her shoulder. “Fuck me as if I were yours, because that’s what I am while I’m here. Break my pussy.”

Bruno seized her hips and began pounding her without restraint, with the clumsy pent-up force of years spent fantasizing without touching anyone. Technique was unnecessary: Nadia moved on her own, thrusting her ass against him with every stroke, matching his rhythm and squeezing his cock with the muscles of her pussy as if she knew exactly where to apply pressure. Vera crawled closer, slipped underneath, and began licking Bruno’s balls while he kept fucking Nadia; he felt Vera’s tongue traveling up his perineum each time he withdrew, and the sensation was too much to process.

“Fuck,” Bruno gasped. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Hold out as long as you can,” Vera murmured from below, her voice muffled. “And when you can’t anymore, come wherever you want. In her pussy, in her mouth, on her tits, on her face. There are no rules here.”

Bruno grabbed Nadia’s hair, pulled her backward, and bent her spine as he pounded her harder, her buttocks slamming against his thighs with the rhythmic sound of flesh striking flesh that filled the room. Nadia moaned without restraint, a hoarse chant of yes, sir, that’s it, harder, break me, more, mingling with the slaps of skin and the wet smacks of Vera’s tongue working his balls. He ran his thumb over Nadia’s asshole, pressing it without actually inserting it, and she moaned even louder, as if that were exactly what she wanted.

When he felt he could not hold back any longer, he pulled his cock from Nadia’s pussy with a wet pop, and Vera was ready beneath him: she opened her mouth immediately and took him whole, sucking him hungrily, tasting the flavor of her companion’s pussy on him without the slightest disgust. Nadia quickly turned, sat on the floor beside Vera, and showed Bruno her tits, squeezing them with both hands and offering them to him.

“Come wherever you want, sir,” she repeated, and it was that “come” that brought him down.

Bruno shuddered, gripped his cock, and came in spurts. The first landed on Vera’s cheek, the second went straight into her open mouth, and he unloaded the last ones over Nadia’s tits, soaking them in thick semen that ran from her dark nipples down to her belly. Neither woman turned her face away: they received his entire load with satisfied smiles, as if rewarding him for his generosity. Nadia ran her fingers over her tits, gathered some of the semen, and brought it to her mouth; then she leaned over and licked Vera’s cheek, and the two of them kissed in front of him, sharing him between their tongues. Bruno thought he was going to come again just from watching it.

When he finished shuddering against the wall, panting, his cock still dripping its last remnants, the two women stood, satisfied, their eyes bright and their lips smeared.

“Thank you, sir,” Vera said, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand and then sucking her finger. “It’s been days since we had such an… enthusiastic visitor.”

Bruno collapsed onto a padded bench in the entryway, breathless, while the two women settled at his feet as if that were the natural order of things. He could hardly believe that no one was going to throw him out, laugh at him, or remind him who he was in his own world.

“What now?” he asked, still breathing hard.

“Now, if you’ll allow us, we’ll give you directions,” Nadia replied, amused, making no effort to clean the semen still glistening in her cleavage. “We recommend the central market, ten minutes away on foot. You’ll find everything there: technology, clothing, currency exchanges. If you need to sell something valuable, they pay well and ask no questions.” She handed him a glossy card with an engraved map. “

Bruno thought of the watch in his pocket. A currency exchange that asked no questions was exactly what he needed: money, a new phone, and perhaps a new identity in a world that seemed tailor-made for his fantasies.

“Could you rate us before you go?” Vera asked, pointing to a tablet on the counter with five faces drawn on it. “It helps us know whether we served you well.”

He looked at the options and, for the first time in a long while, felt like being generous. He pressed the highest rating.

“You earned it,” he said, surprised by how much he enjoyed meaning it.

They both smiled, and this time the smile did not seem professional. Bruno pulled up his trousers, picked up the map from the shelf beside the exit, and headed toward the center. Behind him he heard the door close, and for once he did not feel like an intruder anywhere.

***

Meanwhile, in the universe of origin, a stocky man named Casimiro Robles was struggling to get up, clutching the throbbing wound on his forehead. With his other hand, he was going through the files on the phone that the presumptuous fool had dropped on the floor before vanishing. He snorted angrily: the intruder had stolen the thirty-five-thousand-euro Swiss watch he had received as payment for a very delicate job for the Corporation.

There was only one thing left to do: go after him. Doctor Vidal had gotten two digits of the coordinates wrong, but he had managed to download a report on the strange world to which he had accidentally sent the thief. With luck, in three months Casimiro would be able to appear at the exact same point. And that poor fool would still be there, strolling around like a king, unaware of the kind of danger already following in his footsteps.

End of the first chapter.