Time Slip into a Reverse World

Linhart closed his eyes and kept them closed until he sensed the woman had moved away once again. She hadn’t left. He was sure she was somewhere nearby, resting in the shadows. In the silence that followed, the subtle background noises became louder and more apparent.

A constant hum played on in the background, with the occasional higher pitched surge. It sounded like a spell being maintained, or perhaps it was an artifact in action. He risked opening his eyes and peering into the darkness, but there was no visual evidence of anything magical in the room. It was just him stretched tight on a table and Maeve suspended from the ceiling.

The heavy breathing of the flesh doll Maeve became more pronounced as his ears attuned to it. She was a mouth breather now. Strangely, having the animated girl dangling from the ceiling nearby gave him a comforting feeling. How much of Maeve was still in there?

Ever since he'd died a second time, the one at the hands of Chloe, his feelings on death had lightened somewhat. He mentally calculated the risk of continuing with this life or starting anew. He was practically at a dead-end laying here as a prisoner, and he didn't see any way out of it.

In the coming loop, perhaps he could have Celes organize a search of the Spire. Vivian was clearly involved with the kidnapping, so she should be his first target. That should be enough leads to solve this mystery.

Yes, he had come far enough. He should try to kill himself if any means presented itself. Perhaps he could insult his captors to the point that they murder him out of rage? But it would be just as likely that they keep him alive and in pain, torturing him for days to come. No, it would have to be quick!

Then another thought occurred to him. What if they turned him into a flesh doll after he died? Would his soul or mind be trapped in this loop still? The prospect of being trapped here as a doll for years to come sent a wave of revulsion through him.

There was no use worrying about that now, he rationalized, breathing deeply and taking stock of his senses once more. He had to rest and to heal, otherwise those evil women would give him trouble. For now, he would heal and bide his time until an opportunity presented itself.

Gradually, methodically, he stretched and relaxed each muscle in his body, wishing that he could change positions. Finally, after several minutes of shifting, he drifted off to sleep once more, dreaming of his harem girls as he listened to the comforting sound of Maeve’s heavy breathing.

* * * * * * * * *

He awoke to the cool sensation of a hand kneading his balls once again. It was enough to pull him from a deep sleep to fully awake in no time. His eyes flew open and he took in the terrifying sight of three women staring down at him with predatory alertness. The two gaunt women, Bridi and Wilda, were there on either side, and the third, a young-looking round-faced woman with thick, black wavy hair and equally evil eyes, was undoubtedly Periclum.

“His testicles are once again producing semen,” Bridi was saying with clinical indifference, as she massaged him gently. “And, as you can see, his pole is fully erect.”

“He’s much larger than previous subjects,” added Wilda with a hint of wonder in her analysis, “But that should have neither a positive nor negative impact on the draining, should it?”

Periclum, obviously in charge, let out a curse that made the other two jump. Rather than focusing on his lower anatomy, she was examining his arm, and what she saw had placed a dark and unforgiving look on her face.

“Did either of you two idiots check his initial Fighting level?” she demanded, though it was clear she knew the answer already.

“No, Mistress Periclum,” they both intoned. Then Bridi added, “He’s just a Freshman after all, so we had assumed it was the same as usual…”

Wilda chimed in, joyously singing a twisted song, “Drain him fully, wipe his memory, then dump him at the Academy.”

Periclum’s hand lashed out, dealing a backhanded slap to Wilda’s cheek, hard enough to send her head reeling. “He’s listening, you moron. Don’t assume he’s defenseless just because of the uniform he’s wearing. Look!”

The three women gathered around his upraised arm, and Linhart figured out what was happening. His stomach turned with anxiety, as they marveled at his ID bracer. This situation just became even more complicated.

“How is he so powerful at such a young age?” gasped Bridi.

“Never mind that, look at his Casting score. Is he a mage as well as a Fighter?” responded Wilda.

“This explains how he was able to survive your energy blast, Mistress Periclum,” Bridi added, in a clumsy attempt at flattery.

Periclum didn’t reply. Her face was hovering inches away from him now, her fingers twined threateningly in his matted hair as she spoke to him in a low voice.

“Are you a Mage or are you a Fighter? If you’re a Mage, we may let you go, once you swear your oaths to the Wizard Belfast.”

Her eyes darted back and forth staring deep into his, and her hand was on the pulse of his neck. Linhart knew instinctively that she was waiting for him to try to lie to her.

“I’m a Fighter,” he proclaimed, his voice coming out clear and honest. It was a testament to the power of the Healing potion. “I trained as a Binder and a Mage as well, but only to improve my Fighting prowess.”

Periclum didn’t move, her eyes still darting from his eyes to his cheeks and lips; her hand still pressed to his neck. Then she relaxed and let out a mocking laugh. “Training as a Mage to become a better Fighter? I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t hear the words directly from you.”

To the other two, she turned and spoke, saying, “He’s a fool, even by Fighter standards, but his scores are an anomaly, so… I will have to report this to the Mnemon.”

A sharp intake of air conveyed their shock, and the bodies of the two women recoiled. Wilda recovered first, pleading, “Must you, Mistress Periclum? That guy gives me the creeps. Everything he says fills me dread.”

Bridi said nothing, but nodded in agreement.

“It doesn’t matter. The wizard instructed me on what to do with anomalies. You should be glad we don’t have to bring this matter directly to the wizard. But yes, reporting this boy's Scores to the Mnemon is completely necessary.” Periclum paused, then added, "There's a very good chance that he will insist on interviewing the boy himself. Be prepared for that possibility."

“Well, can we at least proceed with draining his Fighting Score? We can likely get a few hundred points from him in an hour’s time.”

“Fine, get a boob soldier in here,” Periclum agreed, as she spun to leave the room, “But don’t touch his Casting Score! I can only guarantee you one hour before he receives my report. Make sure the soldier is gone well before then… If the Mnemon comes here while the draining is taking place..." she paused at the exit and shuddered, "He gets even more excited and unpredictable when there are boob soldiers around. Just, make sure she's gone.”

Linhart raised his head just in time to see the commanding back of Periclum disappear into a darkened doorway. The lighting in the room was brighter than before, revealing a laboratory space that was about twice as big as Vivian's room but far smaller than Celes’ quarters. There weren’t any windows to the outside and, worse yet, the passage leading to the main shaft of the Spire appeared to have been sealed off.

The doorway glittered like a starry night, at once emitting a shimmering glow while absorbing any light from the room that reached it. There was something unworldly about the way that Periclum left through it.

Bridi was the next to leave.

"Stay here and keep an eye on the boy," she ordered Wilda. "I'll be right back with the nearest boob soldier."

She didn’t just enter the doorway, she disappeared into it with a whooshing sound that indicated a magic effect taking hold. Looking closer at the swirling space, Linhart realized that the doorway wasn't even against the wall, but was hovering near the edge of the room. Then he recalled who he was left with. He was alone with the third woman, who was by his judgement the least intelligent woman. Now was his chance!

“Wilda,” he whispered, coating his words with more fear than he actually felt. He waited just a moment as the gaunt woman drew near to his face once again. “I’m so afraid… I don’t want to be drained!”

“Ha hah!”

Wlida laughed evilly, as her eyes drifted over his body. Placing her hands on his chest, she prodded him with obvious enjoyment.

“You should be afraid. We're going to torment your body and rape you until you're completely used up. Then, we're going to throw you away like trash.”

“I don't want to be thrown away, Mistress Wilda.”

Wilda's hand reached up and traced his full lips, a lust-filled smile blooming across her face.

“Hmm… Mistress Wilda, I like that. You're such a pretty boy. Maybe, I'll make an exception and not trash you. I can take you home and keep you for the rest of your shortened life. How does that sound?”

“Yes please, Mistress Wilda,” he replied submissively.

His brain worked hard to form the perfect wording. He couldn't betray his interest in anything else, and he had to keep her talking. The problem is, he knew he didn't have much time.

“But how will you bring me home with you? Is there a way to your house through that doorway?”

Wilda pursed her scarecrow lips in thought.

“No, this portal leads straight to the Tower. There's no way I could sneak you out that way.”

Then she grinned once again, as if something had just occurred to her. Leaning in, she pinched his nipples as she scolded him.

“But we can't throw you away right now either, so maybe we'll just keep you here forever. What did you do to our mule?”

“Your mule?” Linhart asked, squirming under the unnatural strength in her boney fingers.

“The little Mage. The girl who brings the boys in here. Did you cast a spell on her? She couldn't even tell us your name or what you did to her. Periclum was quite upset with the girl. She says we may have to throw her away, too... all because of you. What did you do?”

“Ack, Mistress, please…!”

He couldn't focus, as he teased him further. Wilda's fingers paused in their assault, waiting for his reply.

“I can make her all better if you bring her here. But I cannot speak of the spell I used,” he replied. Unable to fabricate a proper lie, he closed his mouth stubbornly.

“Oh, you can't?” Wilda countered as though he had issued her a challenge. “Not even if I do this?”

She cackled as both her hands closed around his erection, her fingers intertwining and running roughly up and down the shaft. Linhart didn't have to fake a reaction. The healing had left him whole and replenished. Mere seconds after her boney fingers began, he was already fighting to keep it down. Holding himself back from orgasm.

That was how Bridi found them, him writhing in restrained pleasure and her with her mouth and hands attacking his dick from every angle. She reappeared with a small whoosh, dragging a scantily clad girl behind her.

“Are you having fun," Bridi snapped at Wilda, flinging the young girl in their direction. The girl, a raven-haired beauty, collapsed against the table. Her ample boobs pressing up against Linhart's leg.

“While I'm out doing work you're playing with the boy? You better not have drained him much yourself, because if I find out your Fighting Score is rising, I'll draft you in the Boob corps like this stupid bitch.”

To the girl she stepped forward and gave her a resounding slap on the ass, saying, “We don't have much time, so get up there and start fucking.”

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!