I had to find something to do when I got out of the
military. Something that I loved, something that I wouldn't mind doing while I
collected my military pension at age 40. Yeah, I know, retired at such a young
age. But the military game is a young man's game and even with over seven
thousand flying hours, youth still trumps experience in the flying game. As you
get older your body just can't respond like it used to. As a result I just
couldn't keep taking those high G maneuvers.
Andy leaned over the dining room table, studying the
building plans Daniela had spread out. The paper was covered in neat
handwritten notes and carefully drawn lines. From somewhere upstairs came the
sound of drawers opening and closing as Sarah continued her self-assigned task
of sorting through the consulate's belongings.
They were halfway through clearing the third floor's
residential wing when the smell hit them, that too-familiar sweet-sour scent
they'd encountered far too many times in the past week. They found him in one
of the bedrooms, a middle-aged man in diplomatic attire, Juyeon John Chu,
collapsed across his bed as if he'd simply laid down for a moment's rest.
The morning sun caught the fresh paint scratches on the two
Ford F-350 Super Duty trucks as they pulled out of the Yosemite Valley
maintenance yard. Both were recent-model crew cabs in dark green, commandeered
from the park's heavy maintenance fleet, their diesel engines rumbling with
carefully checked fluid levels and fresh filters.
The park was busy with spring visitors when the first
reports came in. Tourists coughing in the visitor center, a family requesting
medical assistance at Upper Pines campground. Andy helped coordinate with the
park's small medical team, radioing updates to other rangers. Standard protocol
for illness in the park, nothing too concerning yet. That evening, things took
a turn, with the news reporting an alarming spread of similar outbreaks across
California, and the world. Possibly a new avian flu, they said.
There was a knock at the door and Valentina came in, pushing
a silver cart in front of herself.
"Thought it might be time for refreshments," she
chirped, her cheerful brown eyes not at all fazed by the scene in front of her.
She looked at Becky. "I figured you might find some electrolytes handy, so
I have green smoothies, strawberry-banana smoothies, coconut water, and OJ.
That should fit the bill, right?"
Becky was pinching her eyes as she listened to one of her
students try to explain how light was both a wave and a particle. He was
saying 'umm...' so often that she began to think she was listening to the Prime
Minister. Well, that wasn't fair, the PM was a Gen X'er, it was kind of their
thing and all of them did it, with a few notable exceptions.
"Thank you, Cory, please sit down before you hurt
yourself," she sighed, sitting up straight while the students all
snickered at Cory. He sat, blushing. Becky put her glasses back on. She didn't
need them, but she thought it helped with the image she meant to convey.
"People, I gave you this assignment over two weeks ago, and you need to be
able to articulate this on your final exam. Does anyone know how to
answer this question?"
If she'd been worried about feeling alone, she wasn't
noticing at the moment. There were so many fascinating things around here, all
requiring her examination. There was an entire world to explore, after all, and
it was apparently much bigger than the one she'd left behind. It was hard to
conceive of, really; a world larger than Rome, than the empire, but according
to her Mistress, Re-be-kah, she was not going to run out of things to be
stunned by.
So far, Mistress had been right. Nanu was kneeling on the
bed, minutely examining the fabric that made up the soft sheets they'd been
sleeping on. She tugged at the material, noticing how it was so tough that she
needn't worry about tearing it. She tugged and tugged, giggling with delight
when she couldn't wreck it. How clever the people of tomorrow were!
Becky brought several pairs back to the bed and laid them
out for Nanu to look at. "This is just a small sample of my collection,
but you'll get the idea and what's available."
Nanu peered at them before looking up at Becky. "Your
collection? Do you take them from other girls after you beat them up? Like a
prize or a trophy?"
Becky paused but then snickered. Count on Nanu to think in
terms of panties as gory battle trophies. "No, sweetie, I just meant
that I like panties and buying them in different styles and colors. That way,
when I fuck a boy, I know exactly what to wear for him to arouse him."
Some minutes passed before Becky pressed her forehead to
Nanu's, holding her by the cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Nanu; I thought I'd
lost you. I'm sorry; I'll teach you how to be careful. I promise."
"I'm sorry, Mistress, I didn't mean to be
thoughtless and frighten you," Nanu sniffled, her eyes bleary. As much
as the fright by the wheeled monster, she was disconcerted by how upset her
Mistress was. Rebe-kah was genuinely terrified that she'd nearly lost Nanu.
The quiet darkness was suddenly disrupted by a strange glow,
and a hum, along with blinking neon lights that seemed to spin around a
perimeter. The Holmes Field Device appeared, and Mark sighed heavily as he shut
it off. He slumped down onto a small stool in a nearby corner, thankful his
parents and his sister pretty much never came down here. Mom didn't like the
clutter, Roxy was afraid of the spiders, and his dad never wanted to be seen
leaving the basement in case his mom decided she needed something dug out. Out
of sight, out of mind.
He looked at the little multicolored weed pipe he was
holding in his hand, still contained in a small baggie. It didn't matter that
his fingerprints were on it, since he'd shown it to Roxy. Not like she was
gonna tell their parents, right?
Mark felt a cold chill, but also was strangely assured that
she didn't begin screaming. If anything, she sounded vaguely amused. He didn't
come out, but he pushed one of his hands through the linens and waved at her.
"Silly," she giggled, still
smirking. "You might as well come out, because all I have to do is
scream if I want help. I'm not afraid of anyone stupid enough to break into the
personal chambers of a devotee of the goddess."
Mark took a deep breath and walked out from beneath the
linens, stopping and looking down at her, blushing at getting caught. She
looked up him curiously, although she was still clearly amused, and made no attempt
to cover her nudity.
Mark
Simmons: 18 year old High School grad,
enamored with Miss Becky Fischer. He finds the time machine and builds a new
life. Uses various aliases in traveling.
Rebecca
'Becky' Fischer: Mark’s Physics teacher.
Very intelligent, in her later twenties, Shapely Tall Blonde, lusty bisexual, D
Cup tits. Martial arts expert, Uses various aliases in traveling.
Henri: Claims to be a French physician and Apothicary.
Chester
Edgerton: Time traveling mentor, living
in 17th Century French village.
Cardinal
Richelieu: ‘The Red Duke’. Statesman and
Roman Catholic Cardinal. Dispises Queen Anne.
Alexandra
D'Assaut ('Alexa', or 'Lexi': Lady in
waiting (and trusted advisor) to Queen Anne of France, Lusty bisexual, Very
Tall, Busty DD tits, long golden blonde hair, Blue eyed.
Lisette: servant (and lover) of Lady Alexandra, young, bespeckled
brown eyes. Short, shapely, with wavy dark hair, bisexual.
Dhallyla: Mark's mother.
Roxy: Mark's sister.
Nanu: An Egyptian slave of Pompeneia Flavius, purchased by
Becky, dark complexion.
Pompeneia: Roman hostess of Orgies. Lusty wife of Flavius, Mother
of Domitia, bisexual, tall and shapely.
Flavius:
Roman aristocrat, husband of Pompeneia,
protective father of Dometia,
Domitia: Lusty young daughter of Pompeneia and Flavius. A
pledged Vestal Virgin, Escapes to Sumeria when sentenced to death by starvation
by Roman court.
The
Retiallis: A gladiator of the
Collosseum. Prefers the trident spear and netting, to subdue opponents. Escapes
to Sumeria.
Rullus:
A bulky gladiator of huge physical
dimensions. Has an affection for Achilleia. Escapes to Sumeria.
Achilleia:
A fierce female gladiator. Prefers the
whip and sword as weapons. Has a crush on Rullus. Escapes to Sumeria.
Domitia was brought through the streets, which were lined
with huge crowds watching her somberly. She was attended by at least twenty soldiers,
who walked in silence around her. Accompanying them were her former sister
Vestals and the Pontifex Maximus, one of the greatest priests in Rome and head
of the state religion. It was he who ultimately was in charge of the Virgins,
both choosing them and stripping them of their office if the need arose. He
walked ahead of her, his face grave.
Mark
Simmons: 18 year old High School grad,
enamored with Miss Becky Fischer. He finds the time machine and builds a new life.
Uses various aliases in traveling.
Rebecca
'Becky' Fischer: Mark’s Physics teacher.
Very intelligent, in her later twenties, Shapely Tall Blonde, lusty bisexual, D
Cup tits. Martial arts expert, Uses various aliases in traveling.
Henri: Claims to be a French physician and Apothicary.
Chester
Edgerton: Time traveling mentor, living
in 17th Century French village.
Cardinal
Richelieu: ‘The Red Duke’. Statesman and
Roman Catholic Cardinal. Dispises Queen Anne.
Alexandra
D'Assaut ('Alexa', or 'Lexi': Lady in
waiting (and trusted advisor) to Queen Anne of France, Lusty bisexual, Very
Tall, Busty DD tits, long golden blonde hair, Blue eyed.
Lisette: servant (and lover) of Lady Alexandra, young, bespeckled
brown eyes. Short, shapely, with wavy dark hair, bisexual.
Dhallyla: Mark's mother.
Roxy: Mark's sister.
Nanu: An Egyptian slave of Pompeneia Flavius, purchased by
Becky, dark complexion.
Pompeneia: Roman hostess of Orgies. Lusty wife of Flavius, Mother
of Domitia, bisexual, tall and shapely.
Flavius:
Roman aristocrat, husband of Pompeneia,
protective father of Dometia,
Domitia: Lusty young daughter of Pompeneia and Flavius. A
pledged Vestal Virgin, Escapes to Sumeria when sentenced to death by starvation
by Roman court.
Pompeneia looked at Nanu and spoke to her somewhat tersely.
"You are now owned by the Lady Aurora Horatia, who has purchased you at
a fair price from me. Such belongings as you might have, girl, will be leaving
with you when the Lady departs. Understood?"
"How's your head?" Becky asked as they walked down
the hallway, gazing in wonder at the ornate mosaic that covered the floor and
stretched ahead of them. The walls, no doubt made of brick, were covered in
plaster, upon which colorful (and often erotic) frescoes were painted. While
the clothing she was wearing in theory resembled the stola and other
clothes worn by Roman women, hers was considerably abbreviated, if not
downright scandalous. The white garment hung off her sensual curves, spilling
away from her voluptuous tits, which could be seen through the mostly
diaphanous material. Gold bracelets and bangles adorned her arms and a thin
gold chain with tiny jewels sat on her ankle. She was wearing her golden-blonde
hair up atop her head, but playful wisps and curls hung down in places, giving
it a sassy and almost playful look. A gold-colored belt cinched in at her tiny
waist, making her bust look even bigger.
The non-descript carriage had indeed made its way through
Paris' winding streets, taking well over an hour to finally stop in front of
the palace and allowing Mark to get out of the cramped cab before it rattled
off. The sun had set some time ago, and night hung over the city heavily, the cloying
air of Paris carrying the city's growing pains to his ears. Even at night, the
city was not silent.
“Your Becky sounds like a very strong woman." Lady
Alexandra reflected when Mark told of their conflicts in the time journey to
old France.
"Actually," Mark said, blushing again. "She
reminds me of you, or you remind me of her. You actually look quite a bit
alike."
She smiled sweetly and reached forward to touch his knee.
"High praise for me indeed, then. Am I right in assuming that she speaks
French since you do not?"
Mark and Becky sat in the small cottage, looking around in
wonder. They were still in Seventeenth Century France, but found themselves
surrounded by technologies that they hadn't even heard of. The walls were lined
with clocks, some of which were mechanical, some seemed to be digital or
binary, while others told time in ways they couldn't fathom. Sitting across
from them at the stout, round oaken table, Chester Edgerton smoked a pipe and
observed them casually.
Mark was lying on his back, panting while Becky squirmed and
writhed on top of him, moaning in pleasure. His hands were on her opulent tits,
kneading them just how she loved it. The lovers were covered in sweat as she
ground her cunt down onto his cock, taking him deep inside. He matched her
sensual rhythm, pushing up while she pressed down, squeezing his shaft with
each thrust he made.
Mark sat in the chair in his bedroom by his computer desk,
trying to look chastised, but he was worried that a tiny hint of an evil smirk
was crossing his lips. He hung his head in the hopes it would be less
noticeable. Standing in the room with him were two stone-faced men in black
suits and dark glasses. They stared at him silently for several minutes before
glancing at one another. Finally, the shorter one sighed.
Nymphomania,
while enticing to consider, is still utter madness when experienced.
"Why Mr. Zane, my Barbie Lynn has told us so many
wonderful things about you," she sounded so sugary that the honeyed words
flowed off her tongue in a manner that was barely coherent. Also, her eyes
flickered to the shower where I'd nailed Barbie Lynn repeatedly for forty
minutes not all that long ago. Next to me Thomas grunted something that sounded
like 'hello'.
Some masks hide who we are. Others show who we want to
be
I could bowl Mercy over with a feather. Rio and I are doing
the same social mechanics and come to the same conclusion. There are three
reasons to marry a gay guy;
The Dining Hall was almost a relief. That relief died the
moment I saw the banner over the front of the serving area in the Hall. 'Zane
Appreciation Day'. Since every word was spelled correctly, it wasn't some stunt
of Rio's, but beyond that, the list of suspects was too large to consider. This
could be a genuine outpouring of acceptance and sympathy for what I had endured
here. If you believe that, I have to ask you: 'Do you want your leprechaun pissing
Guinness or Irish Malt?'
If you can't look in a mirror and laugh at yourself, cut off the
light
"Can we put other restrictions on you?" Simone
Brady prodded.
"This is not the 'Zane' show," Virginia
Goodswell interjected. "We need to decide when the new Student government
will meet, I suggest Tuesday nights, and how we are going to conduct
business."
Friends stand by you through the struggles your
enemies create
"You are depraved and despicable," Mhain
seethed.
"I get that a lot; now get out," I growled back,
"because I have a thousand other bitches who are, scratch that, 999 other
bitches, Doctor Kennedy is growing on me; the rest I'm not so sure about, who
are making my life miserable."
"Don't get your hopes up, Mr. Braxton," Doctor
Kennedy warned me. "I'm happily married."
"Cool," I responded. "I hope to be like that
one day."
Earned leadership is a blessing; assigned
leadership is a burden
"Am I going to have to spank this little kitty to teach
you a lesson?" Rio asked sweetly. Mercy vigorously shook her head in
denial.
"So you don't want me to do this?" Rio began
energetically rubbing her fingers over the moist cunt. I was distracted from
the rest of that exchange by Barbie Lynn's recovery. She climbed up my body,
cheeks still full of my cum and staring at me with a mischievous hunger. At the
moment I thought we were going to mimic the cum-swapping trick Ms. Lane and I
had done, she went in another direction. Barbie Lynn leaned forward within
inches of Vivian's face.
"You are quite the James T. Kirk in this Undiscovered
Country of Freedom Fellowship University," Doctor Scarlett eventually
spoke up. I didn't know who that was but I had a feeling it wasn't a modern
Christian author.
"Who?" I asked. Doctor Scarlett blinked.
"James T. Kirk, Captain of the Starship Enterprise,
from Star Trek," she seemed confused that I didn't know who this guy was.
"Wait, you mean that bald guy? I thought he was named
something else," I wondered.
"That's Jean Luc Picard, who was the captain in the
second series called Star Trek: The Next Generation," she corrected me. It
was somewhat amazing to me that the Vice Chancellor was a science fiction buff.
Who knew?
