2 comments/ 8812 views/ 8 favorites Let the Wrong One In By: pakled Hypatia shuddered in the drawing room, overcome by the note. Fear, Anger, Anxiety, Lust; a dozen emotions swept through her. She felt faint, sinking quietly onto the chaise lounge, reading for the tenth time the stinging words it displayed. Dearest Hypatia - A lie, in the salutation, no less! It is with great sorrow that I break off our engagement. I have been a bounder and a cad, constantly endangering your reputation with society - As if I minded! I was in love! My behavior has been quite inexcusable - finally, some truth! ...but I must confess I have compounded my errors with the love of another - what was wrong with mine? For my own, I must confess to having led a double life - a double-cross, you mean! While society may have approved of Ms. Bowdler as our constant chaperone, - constant betrayer! Our relationship has become something more than chaperone and charge, and has blossomed into all the delights society has denied the both of us - You mean she let you have your way with her! In the course of events, our activities have been blessed with issue, and the lady - Lady!? Whore! Bitch!... she restrained herself before she gave voice to the foulest oaths heard at the dockyards... is with child. The rules of a gentleman -Hypatia snorted in derision require that I bring forth a legitimate product of our issue, and unless we move to the arid wastes of Utah - another snort, Jonathan couldn't find High street if he was tied onto the police box there. ...I am restrained to but a single wife. You are a good woman, Hypatia, and I am sure that one more constant than I shall relieve your suffering. I have always admired your qualities of restraint and good judgment, which will endear you to a far better man than I - I doubt I could find a worse one, after this, she gritted her teeth. Ever yours - Ever hers, you mean! Jonathan - rot in hell, you right bastard... She carefully folded the note, and slipped it into the secret compartment of the secretary, unsure what to do. The hidden door on the polished wood took its secret, and closed with a barely audible 'click'. She checked her outfit; a perfectly workable dress, finally free of the bustles her mother had suffered with, a smart jacket filled with small instruments, and her fedora, a single concession to the last century. Her 'impossible' bosom heaved with anger, as she straightened it. Lately it had known the attentions of Jonathan, and she quivered as she remembered the heavenly feelings his fingers made as he used them, his mouth and tongue ...stop it! While her heart and mind swung into fierce opposition, her body remembered those hands, the wonderful feelings they made as they explored her flesh, causing the most excruciating emptiness between her legs. She would miss his hands the most... No, Hypatia, she cautioned herself, it is not his hands that you miss the most. Her own hands moved as if of their own accord, when they could be alone. She would regard his member with a combination of scientific and erotic fascination, using her hand to slowly stroke him, until his very essence shot in the air like fireworks, and rained down hotly to cover her hand. Just the last fortnight, she'd allowed him to touch her in her most secret place, and relished the overpowering flare of aroused passion. He'd stumbled over her clitoris, and had applied himself to it vigorously, causing her to gasp in rigid bliss as if her body had been attached to an electrical wire. She lay back, breathing heavily, his body close to hers, and drew her legs together, milking the newly-discovered bliss. Her emptiness tortured her more than usual, and she swore the next time, she would let him have his way, as it was her way, or would be soon. Jonathan, you stupid idiot! I was prepared to surrender to you this very night! You could have deflowered me; it could be me who carried your child. She fought not to cry, a single tear only creasing her makeup. Slowly she contained her emotions. A new day was dawning, and she was needed, at the Research Corporation. Repairing her face and appearance, the young scientist went outside, to catch a passing taxi, looking down with distaste as the aetheropter climbed into traffic, and towards the laboratories. I will lose myself in my work; at least that they cannot take from me. Far below her, the towers and smokestacks of London painted the morning fog with a sulfur-tinged yellow, as hundreds of vehicles floated and darted about. An occasional ray of sunlight would illuminate the crenellated mansions and row houses, horses still plodding the cobblestones of 21st-Century's greatest Empire. Thanking the driver, and paying her fare, she climbed off the levitating vehicle onto the fourth-floor labs. A guard tipped his hat to her, recognizing her at once. She smiled back in turn, wondering if he was single...and stopped herself. What on Earth was she thinking? Could she ever trust another man, after the ultimate in rude behavior? A real man would have said those things to her face, not sent a note and card. She'd have a chance to change his mind, to seduce him, to run her fingers over his...she stopped in the hallway, almost colliding with another scientist. Really, we can't be distracted, especially with the kind of forces we're dealing with, she admonished herself. She opened the heavy doors to the high-potential energy lab, seeing Dr. Rabelais hunched over a winding of a man-sized transformer. Looking up, he smirked as he saw his assistant enter the room. Hypatia knew Rabelais well; the kind of a man a woman should have hatpin ready for, and besides, he was a foreigner anyway. "Ah, Miss Fullerene, there you are. I've had an idea; I really think that it may provide the breakthrough." "As in scientific experiment?" she asked. "As in a way to actually travel to these alternate worlds. See that Charles brings us a few more canisters of film, and some spare Deforest valves." The lab 'go-fer' was a minor partner in the research, still trying to get the graduate degree. He worshiped Hypatia, which made her feel both gratified and annoyed. "Indeed, Doctor. Any particular kind?" "6L6's, and a few '34's, " he responded, making a final connection on the wire-covered pillar of iron. He pointed over to the vast ring, mounted on gimbals. It was capable of rotating in two dimensions, as each of the seven electrical connections was made. The result was a splash of water like energy that stabilized into an almost mirror-like pool of radiance, which they'd unsuccessfully tried to pierce with telescopes, periscopes, and even a camera dangled on a string. Thing went in, but didn't come out again. Charles was still smarting from a missing fingertip he'd lost touching the effect. "I've looked at this in a geometric fashion, only taking into account the first three dimensions. What if there were more?" Hypatia grinned to herself. He would have made a perfect kinetoscope villain, entirely unable to avoid describing in painstaking detail his plans and stratagems. She listened with half an ear as he rambled on about orbits, magnetic offsets, and the idea of mental processes affecting the outcome. The last was hardly scientific, and she called him on it. "Doctor, perhaps you confuse the physical with the mental. I'd have a hard time believing that wishing would affect the results, else every scientist be counted a genius." He sighed, recognizing she was trying to get his goat. "Alas, as a nation of shopkeepers, you have to be so hard-headed and logical about science. I consider science my love, and my mistress." "Really, Doctor! You forget yourself!" "Really, Miss Fullerene, if there is no love of science, of mystery, of solving the essential questions of the universe, then why bother?" "Perhaps you could have phrased it a bit more delicately," she lectured, "you are in mixed company. Unless you forget I am a woman." A frustrated woman, she thought to herself. "As you wish. Young people today..." he shook his head. He walked to the control circuits, Charles finally arriving with the necessary supplies. "Ready circuit one," he intoned, as Charles threw the first knife-switch. A low hum started, as the ring began to rotate. Hypatia busied herself with the kinetoscope, filming the results of today's experiment. Ready circuit two," Rabelais said, and the switches were thrown, one after the other, until the last slid home, and the effect began to pulsate, a hot, liquid star wobbling within the containment ring. The humming now shook the room, a throbbing shake to the air, almost physical. Hypatia, watching through the viewfinder, found the sensation...distracting. It was almost like the anti-hysteria devices the doctors used, before the home models could discretely be delivered to relieve the suffering of women everywhere. Don't think about that snake now! She remonstrated with herself. The throbbing seemed to center on her sex, giving her a feeling of lethargy and excitement she'd felt whenever he...not another thought! She concentrated on the process at hand, making notes on the typewriter as she expounded on the impressions she saw before her. She watched the control settings recorder print out the columns of numbers the settings and effects generated second by second. She looked over momentarily at Charles, quickly popping in a new valve to replace a blown circuit. In his haste, he saw him grab the wrong tube. It would not have the same control as the necessary one, and in fact, would convert the whole apparatus into an amplifier. Rabelais was watching from a few feet away, not seeing what their assistant was doing. She raised a hand to get his attention, but it was too late. The pins struck home in the mounting, and the experiment increased in fury, the throbbing increasing. She felt...she felt...she felt good. Her hips were warring against her, the emptiness was back, and she wanted...she knew what she wanted, if only Jonathan... An explosion of blue light flared through the room, filling the windows with a radiance that flashed through the windows high above, causing heads to turn around the complex of brick buildings. A tremor quaked the earth nearby, as worried guards and scientists rushed towards the lab, fearing what might be found in what was obviously an experiment gone wrong. Reaching the metal door to the lab, they cursed as they found it welded shut to the frame. A quick line of concerned people wound down through the supply room, to come in the back way. What they found was desolation, magnificent, and terrible. Dr. Rabelais was sprawled a good twenty feet behind the main controls, while Charles was nowhere to be seen. A man-sized hole in the wall was the most likely place to look, but there was only a charred confusion of bricks and clothing. One of the men, his mutton-chopped whiskers fluttering against the afterglow, looked around. "There was a third scientist here, a Mistress of Science. Fullerton, Fuller..." "Fullerene, sir," an assistant offered. "Yes. See if you can find her...or her remains. Get the readings, the film, everything. I want to know what happened here." If someone found that a female scientist had been killed, there would be hell to pay. He'd have to go to the Feminist Party for funding; they'd be ruined! Where was she? The concept of where had little meaning in the spaces surrounding Hypatia. She gazed out in terror as she floated through some sort of nothingness...a space between spaces. Flickers of vision swarmed around her; almost as if she was watching dozens of movies at once. Behind her, the gap in her universe winked out, leaving a featureless gray indistinguishable from the rest of the nothing she saw. Can my existence get any worse? She set her mouth firmly, holding back the scream forming in her throat. You get hold of yourself, Hypatia Fullerene...generations of suffragettes, and feminists didn't sacrifice so you could be the spoiled girl. You're a scientist...observe and record. An occasional vision would burst into view, each time showing someone thinking...or acting. She strived to discover what was happening each time, searching for something familiar. Some of the views were of Technologist London, and she swam towards them, but each time, something would divert her, and the whole thing would vanish. Other viewpoints were of cities and countryside alien to her, where animals were replaced by machines, or machines by strange animals. Humans and others walked, flew, or rode a staggering variety of vehicles to whatever destinations they chose. She tried to find her purse, but it, alas like her hat, were hanging from the hat rack in the laboratory. A small diary in her pocket reminded her to start taking notes. It gave her hands, and her mind something to do. Reflecting on the myriad of alternatives in front of her, she started thinking. If only one of them could get me Jonathan back, she ruefully considered. But wishing was an aberration, something every scientist avoided. Rabelais, the emotional, sentimental Frenchman, she knew. sometimes indulged, but he was a universe away. If only someone could help... Jon was just making the finishing touches to the apartment, a mass of boxes, haphazardly-arranged furniture, and lost or hidden kitchen items stacked in cardboard boxes just inside the front door. It was a drag, being let go from the job, even though he'd been hired back as a consultant for half the money he made before. Life sucks, he thought for the hundredth time. Losing the job was bad enough, losing the house was worse. And losing his girlfriend, who now turned out to be just looking for a man to underwrite her shopping, was the lowest cut of all. Now, trying to get all his possessions in an apartment that was almost as gouging on the pocketbook as his old spread, life couldn't get much worse. At least the weather was good, so he hadn't' had to hump everything in the rain. Well, time to get the rental truck back, before he got dinged by the rentals, or the management at the complex. He picked up the key, and turned towards the door. A thick fog appeared in front of the door, a bluish light forming in the middle. Great, I've been moved in five minutes, and already it's on fire. Considering the fire was in front of the door, he looked towards the patio balcony, wondering if he could escape. The heat...wait, there was no heat. So no fire. So what was it? A formless shape hurtled towards him, too close to dodge out of the way. It hit him squarely in the chest, toppling him to the carpet, as the fog drifted away. He fell backwards, painfully hitting the floor, wincing as he felt the impact. Looking up, he saw a very surprised...steampunk, straddling his body.. Goggles; check, long dress; check, fantastic ray gun...ok, she was less than complete. She stared at him in surprise, and something else. "Jonathan?" she whispered, her face inches away. A sort of hunger was forming in that gaze, he wasn't sure he liked it. "Most people call me Jon. And you..." was all he could manage, as two very delectable lips silenced the rest. She's not a bad kisser, he admitted, pulling her closer. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but thank you, thank you, thank you. She broke the kiss, another expression on her face, leaning back, she walloped him with a slap, complete with English. He felt like his face was rearranged like Mr. Spudhead, as she stared crossly down at him. "And that's for that shameless traitoress, Miss Bowdler!" "What the fuck?" he got out, as she pulled back from him. "Who are you, and how did you get in my apartment?" She froze, looking at him, slapped back emotionally. "You don't recognize me? Jonathan Williams-Arbuthnot, how dare you pretend not to know me?" "That's Jonathan Williams, I don't know any Arbuth, arb...whoever. Do you always go around attacking strangers?" She stared, looking around her at the furnishings. "Where are we?" "In my apartment. You still haven't told me who you are." "Hypatia..." she prompted him to complete, "Hypatia Fullerene..." again receiving a blank look, "your ex-fiancé?" Getting to his feet, he brushed himself off. "I've never been engaged; I thought Karen might be the one, but she split." "Who is Karen?" she answered possessively. "My ex-girlfriend, not that it's any of your business. Believe me, if I'd known someone who looked like you, I wouldn't have bothered with Karen." "And where's your mustache? And how did your hair grow so fast? Why haven't you pomaded it, what are those...clothes of yours? You dress like a pirate!" "What?" he glowered at her. "I just moved in here, and these are just shorts. I've never had a mustache, I'm not sure what pomade even is, and maybe we should just slow down and figure out what's going on." She thought it over for a second. "You're Jonathan Williams-Arbuthnot, a scrivener-typist for Arbuthnot, Chesterton, and Knox, limited. You were engaged to me, faithfully, I thought," she snapped off, "and all the while you were cannoodling in amorous behavior with our chaperone, which you got with child! I just got your note cancelling our engagement this morning! I still hold it here!" she reached inside a dress pocket at proffered it at him like a process server. He took the letter, and looked at it. "I can't write this well," he said, scratching his head. "The date's right, but I don't know a Miss...Bowdler? I'm Jon Williams, until recently a senior web designer, now just a contractor for Applied Darwinism limited, and I just lost my house, my girlfriend, and evidently my mind. And I don't do unprotected sex, if you must know. Now are you with the local Steampunks, and I'm getting punked, or do you have some other explanation?" "Was that in English?" she replied, puzzled again. "What's a Steampunk?" "You don't know? Lady, you're dressed exactly like one, even down to the goggles. I've never heard of anyone but librarians and porn stars named Hypatia." "The goggles are not part of my ensemble, they're necessary for the experiments. I'm going for my doctorate, you must know, at the Lysenko Institute of Aetherial Physics." "Never heard of it. Your accent's English, is that where it is?" "Of course it's...you have an American accent? Where are we?" She looked through the window, gasping at the view. To Jon, it was nothing special, he'd been more interested in a quick place to live on his vastly-reduced salary, than something like the view. "There's no horses..." she said, turning back to him. "I don't smell any horse apples, there's no traffic in the sky, no dirigibles, where are we?" her voice squeaked, as she started to panic. "We're in Utah, in the US, it's 2013, and I'm beginning to wonder about you. Do you have any meds you should be taking?" Her brow wrinkled beautifully, as she considered him. He started to notice just how good-looking she was; blond hair slightly disheveled, a pretty nice rack under that...corset thing. Couldn't tell about the rest, but whoever this hyphenated guy was, he was an idiot for leaving her. Unless the Bowdler chick was even better. She giggled slightly, over some private joke. "I guess I made it to Utah after all, though I shan't share any man. This is all so...alien to me," she confessed, "I know in my heart that you're my Jonathan, but you don't seem to know the most basic facts about the Empire." "Empire? The British Empire?" "Well, naturally, of course. Relations between the American and British empires has been strained of late..." "Wait, there's no American Empire. The British...oh, it would take too long to explain. Let's use the web." He went over to the laptop, the first thing he'd opened once things were settled. She looked at it, as if she'd never seen one before. Starting it up, he smacked his head, realizing the cable guy hadn't come by to set him up. Well, maybe he could leach from someone's wireless, until the guy showed up. Let the Wrong One In A soft exhale behind him caused him to turn around. She was staring at the screen, mesmerized by the succession of images most people saw every day. The look of shock and wonder couldn't have been faked. Whimsically, he motioned her to pull up a seat. "You're from some sort of parallel universe?" She nodded, thinking about the answer. "That would be the most logical explanation. Addison's razor, and all that." "Who?" "Addison, who said that..." seeing his confusion, she held up a hand. "Have you heard about using the simplest of two competing theories?" "Occam's razor," he corrected her. "Who's Occam?" "I dunno...the guy they named it after." They started comparing notes, all the while becoming more and more distracted by each other. Jon found her stealing looks at him, unconsciously touching his shoulders, placing her head so her hot breath made his hair stand up. She seemed utterly convinced that she came from another Earth, which sounded like steampunk heaven. He playfully tried to trip her up; finding facts that would prove she'd been acting, but something about her honesty and story sounded more and more plausible. I'm going crazy. There's no way this woman is from a British Empire, under George the Seventh? No Queen Victoria? No Germany? Italy half the size...it's too much. Austrian Empire...what's next? Finally, he looked up and saw it was already dinner time. Asking her what she wanted to eat, he showed her how to find restaurants. For a doctoral candidate, she was hunt-and-peck on the keyboard, which she explained qwerty had never caught on in Imperial England. He found a middle eastern restaurant just down the road, remembering something about the English (his) falling in love with spicy Pakistani food. Hope that wasn't misremembered. She was...intriguing. She almost killed herself walking into traffic, until he showed her his own car, and soon they were driving off to supper. He kept half an eye on her while he maneuvered through traffic, enjoying her surprise and delight of normal traffic. If she was still punking him, he had to give her props for not slipping. Once they were inside, he ordered for her, getting 'something for someone new to the food.' She looked at him, almost flirting, definitely drawing his attention. They continued comparing notes, until he almost believed her. Maybe she was crazy, but not in a dangerous way, but she was scary-smart, even though her knowledge of science had some serious gaps, she came up with a few notions he was unfamiliar with. She seemed curious about the Internet, and said they were just starting their own version of it, although paper-driven. He tried to imagine a complex of teletype machines, tied together in some sort of network, and shook his head. Trying to explain, she caught on to a lot of the boring bits faster than he thought possible. Finally served, she was pleased by the dishes, although she couldn't handle the spicier offerings he'd selected for himself. They were laughing, closer together than when they came in. The waiter grinned in a knowing manner, seeing two people falling for each other. By the time they were finished, she was half-asleep, though still watching him. "Jon?" she said. "Yeah?" "I hate to presume, but...I really don't have anywhere to go. I'm completely alone here, no home, my purse is in another universe, and I don't know what to do. Would you be upset if I...well," she blushed. "You need a place to stay the night? I..." he started, realizing where this was going, "I'd love to have you over. I can finish putting the bed together, and I can sleep on the couch." "That hardly seems fair." She looked at him hopefully. "Well, this is kind of fast," he said with mock seriousness. "I was engaged to your double," she said, "yet to be honest, I think I have the better copy at hand." "I can be an asshole sometimes, but we don't do chaperones here, at least not after high school." "So your reputation wouldn't be besmirched? People would talk, you know." "Besmirched?" he laughed. "Hon, it's nobody's business. No one here even knows me, and this sort of thing happens all the time." "What sort of thing would that be?" she replied coyly. "You, me, an apartment, and thankfully, a weekend alone. Maybe we can even find a way to send you back." Her face fell, considering it. "I'd like that. No chaperones, you say? Is this a society of free love, then?" He laughed again. "Actually, that's the most expensive kind there is. No, you can do what you like. I can be a gentleman; you can have the bed." They got up, went through the door, as she took his arm. "I think...perhaps we both might have the bed." "Sounds like a plan." he agreed. She squeezed closer to him, considering their next move. On the way home, she kept looking at him, and around at a different world. The cars zipped by much faster than horses or autotransports. Overhead, a jet flew off to some destination, which required the rest of the trip to explain. By the time they were at his place again, thoughts turned more to what would happen next. "Jonathan," she said, as the door shut. "I want you to know that I'm not that kind of a girl." "I thought you might change your mind," he said, sighing for effect. "I'll get some pillows, they're in one of these boxes." Watching him rummage through stacks of possessions, she put her arm around him. "What I mean, should I be allowed to finish, is that I'm not, well, I've never..." she trailed off. "You're a virgin?" he asked, incredulous. "Hypatia, that's a pretty big thing to give to a near-stranger. Are you sure you want to go through with this?" "Is that so rare here?" she asked, drawing away. "Actually, at our age, yeah, it is." He sat down with a box, opening it. "It would take a lifetime to explain the differences between your world and mine, and you'd probably be bored by the end of it. I'm honored to be considered to accept something you can only give once, right?" She hung her head, and looked directly into his eyes. "I'm as confused as you are. My body betrays me, and my heart bears recent wounds that I wish healed. But I have to admit, you're more comely than your double, and much more considerate. You're the answer to much of what's wrong with men, from where I sprung forth." Grinning, he got the box open, and pulled out a dented pillow, then two more. "You have a gift for words, Hypatia. I know it's awfully sudden for you, so if you want to back out, I'll understand." "No!" she stomped, surprised at her own vehemence. "I'd been engaged to...well, you...for three years. We were hardly saints, thanks to that...ooh!" she paused, straining not to say the words, "but we engaged in several activities that could get us arrested, despite being a major pastime of many young people in love. "Please listen to me, Jon. I've traveled through carnal thoughts, and some practice, and I want to see it through to the end. I've noticed your body, and you're actually in better form than Jonathan back home. I had made up my mind, that very day, that I would give myself fully to him, when he drops his anarchist bombshell in my lap. "I've been deprived of the chance to offer 'that greatest gift' as you call it. I see so much of the good qualities he squandered, and so little of the bad ones." "Tired of me already?" he tossed the pillows at the couch, where they landed. "No, please, let me be serious. Jon, you're a good man, I can sense that. I am filled with impure thoughts, feelings that I cannot express. I want to solve the mystery, I want you, Jon Williams, and I want you now." Grabbing his hand, she pulled towards the bedroom. "Take the pillows with us, if you please?" "All right," he said, serious, but smiling. "I'm going to do my best to see you have all your mysteries solved. All I want is you to tell me what works, and what doesn't." "That appeals to the scientist in me," she nodded. "It appeals to the computer geek that will soon be in you." She shuddered as she understood. At last! I'm finally going to do it! Closing the door to the room, he put his arms around her. She felt his face grow closer, until she could feel his breath on her lips. Closing her eyes, she let herself surrender to the first kiss. Simple, almost playful, but good. She let herself relax, leaning into the kiss, which went on, now more insistent. She answered in kind, pressing herself against him, as her heart beat faster. Breaking the kiss, she looked up at him. "I think you could give Jonathan some lessons in kissing." "Rather not, besides, he's lost something he'll regret forever," Jon said, nibbling an earlobe. His breath heated her ear, tingling as he moved down her neck with butterfly kisses that started to affect her. She tilted her head back, losing herself in the sensation. He was fairly experienced, she could tell; usually her old fiancé would be halfway down her bustle by then. This man drew out the wooing, as she called it, bringing her heat up towards boiling. She ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying the greater length, and not missing the pomade that stuck to her fingers. Maybe these alternate-dimensional people had something, though right now she couldn't spare enough brainpower to consider it dispassionately. His lips worked their way down her neck, towards her collar bone, and she felt her nipples start to stiffen, as she knew he'd be there soon enough. "Ohh, yes..." she sighed, as her body started to move. His mouth started towards the top of her corset, when suddenly he stopped. "A little help?" he asked, puzzling over the corset top. She grinned, and stood back, thrusting her chest at him. "Now I know you're different. Any likely lad would know instantly how to unlatch this." She felt for the bow holding her in, and slowly teased him by parting the knot, and working the stays looser. She watched him closely as the garment finally lost its purchase, and slid to the floor, revealing a thin undergarment that had never seen underwire supports. Her breasts stood proudly against it, and she closed her eyes again as his hands went straight for them. He fondled them so well, listening for what pleased her. "Oh, you do have good hands," she whispered, feeling the tingling increase as he ran his fingers around her areoles, not touching them, but teasing her as they circled closer towards her need. "I'm getting quite randy, please don't tease me!" He heard a chuckle, as she felt him looking for a way to remove the rest of her top. "I've never seen so much string and hooks before. Do people forget what they're doing before they get to the end?" She reached behind her, and pulled loose the tied-off knot, letting it settle around her waist. She darted a quick look downwards, then up again to see if it pleased him. From the hungry look in her eye, she could see that dangerous gaze, and knew her virginity would soon be a thing of the past. His mouth descended, and poised just above the skin, fluttering against her nipples. "Oh please, take them," she groaned, as his tongue drew patterns on her flesh. She pulled his head closer, feeling lightning bolts travel through her body, making her wet, and drawing the familiar ache down below. She felt him suck while he licked, first one, then the other. Her knees were getting weak, and she pulled back. "Let's do the rest of this lying down," she murmured, "I had no idea of how good it could feel." She felt him reach under her, and gather her up in his arms, suspending her over the bed. "Good heavens, what are you doing?" "You wanted to be on the bed, I'm just making that easier. Some women like it." "I...I'd rather not hear about that right now. Please, I need to have you, I need to know!" Lowered down, she threw her arms around his neck, softly landing with her legs involuntarily spreading. He couldn't really see that, and anticipating what he wanted, she undid the buckles and hooks that held the rest in. She cursed as she got out of the rest, feeling quite strongly that one of them still had too many clothes on. "Please undress for me, Jon. I want to see you." Scarcely had she finished, he'd had the shorts and shirt off, nude in far less time than she had been, which seemed unfair. He did have trouble getting his inner pants (they were evidently called boxers) off, due to a satisfyingly large lump in them. Peeling them away, she saw him as naked as she was. "At last. Come on, Jonathan, you're needed!" But instead of getting right to it, he resumed work on her breasts, until they stood quivering out from her chest. He started kissing down her belly, heading for her sex, which made her feel wickedly aroused. "What are you doing? What are you...ohhhhh..." she swooned as she felt his mouth, down there, in her most intimate place. She was wetter than she ever had been, but feeling his tongue tip lash across the clitoris, she arched upward, pushing herself against his lips. Her married friends had occasionally mentioned this, always in hushed tones, and she'd wondered what it might be like. It was a rare man back home who would consent to performing...what was it? Cunniling...cun...she grabbed his head and held him in place, no longer caring what it was called, as long as he didn't stop. "I can't believe how good it feels...Jon, it's so good. I'm going to...you're making me...ohhhh..." she said, as her hips began to sway back and forth. Even on her own, she'd never had a sensation as direct, primitive, and powerful possess her. She lay back and enjoyed as he touched every part of her, even dabbing a finger inside her. The invasion of a single finger made her even wetter, as she struggled to widen her legs. Two fingers made her gasp aloud, tongue and digits working together to push her towards a cliff, a runaway river of ecstasy that threatened to engulf her. She was moaning and crying out now, commanding him to take her, ready to give him her maidenhead, if she could just enjoy herself a little while longer. "Jon, Jon, you're going to make me spend! I can't...can't hold...ayyahhh!" she shouted, rocking back and forth against him, wrapping her legs around his head, feet drumming against his back as she lost control. A shattering orgasm flared from her hips, straining her body to hold him, to prolong the climax, waves of pleasure seizing her, making the world go away for a brief instant, almost a little death, which slowly faded, as she lay there, panting and holding him close. "Oh Jon, I...that was wonderful. I've always wanted to try that, what do you call it?" He looked up, face gleaming from her fluids. "Going down, giving head, cunnilingus, yodeling in the gul..." "Yes, that's it! Cunnilingus. It sounds like an Irish hero, doesn't it? I can't move. No one has ever done that before. I wish he could have." He moved up to lie next to her. "Hypatia...why don't we make tonight about us, hmm? I won't bring up Karen, and you don't bring up Steampunk boy. I don't care about them, I care about you." She hugged him close. "Spoken like a good man. But what's this?" she felt downwards. It was bigger than her old fiancés; no wait, we just said no comparisons. And it was no comparison. "Jon," she whispered in his ear. "I want this, and I want it now. Don't make me wait," she mock-threatened. "I'll go easy," he said, starting to place himself over her. "I...don't want easy. I want you to ravish me." "Ravish? I'm going to do better than ravish," he replied forcefully. "I'm going to show you what you've been missing." "Take me, then. I feel so empty. Will it hurt much?" "I don't know, I've never been with a virgin. If it gets too much..." "Please, I need this now!" she hissed through gritted teeth. "Here goes." She felt him enter her, slowly and carefully, as her hips tried to pull him in. She whimpered as it slid inside, filling that dreaded emptiness she'd felt before. Finally she realized that this is what she'd wanted all those times before. It felt so big, the biggest thing that had ever been in there...the only thing to date. Suddenly, she felt him stop, as a twinge of pain from her hymen warned her where he'd penetrated to. He looked down, lovingly, concern written on his face, as his eyes asked her the question. "Do it. Be merciless," she coaxed him. A bolt of pain, and suddenly she felt him slide all the way in. Goodbye, maidenhead, she breathed out. Already the pain resided, replaced by the most wonderfully full sensation, something primal, natural, necessary. "Ohh..." she sighed, "yes, like that. I had no idea." Filled again and again with his insistent cock, her body started to respond, her hips rising to meet him, taking him as deep as she could, She felt wetness drip down her legs, as her body demanded the approaching orgasm she craved. "Do it, make love to me...I can't believe how good it feels! I don't have the words...harder, yes, just like that...faster...so good..." "You like your first fucking?" he whispered in her ear. "I...I always thought that was such an ugly word...but now, it's so powerful! Yes, fuck me, Jon, don't stop fucking me." A part of her, shocked at the intensity, was drowned out by the sheer need. Above her, she saw his body moving against hers, a sheen of sweat from his efforts shining in the bedroom light. Most of her friends did it in the dark, but the vision of that hardness plunging into her again and again, making her gasp in delight. "Oh fuck me, I don't ever want to stop! Jon, I should have done this a long time ago, it's so...ohh!...I'm going to spend, darling, don't stop, whatever you do!" "I'm going to come too," he rasped above her. She found her hands holding his back, sliding down towards his ass, gripping it as she pulled him in. "You're so tight, so wet. I can't hold back..." "Don't, please don't! I want to feel it, I need it...keep fucking me; fuck me, fuck me, ohh..." The bed shook under the two, the headboard hitting the wall, the wet, sloshing sounds reverberating from the walls. She could feel him getting harder, and larger, until the thick shaft expanded, and she felt a hot flow deep inside her. She cried out, holding him inside her, while her muscles clenched against him, eager to get every drop. The intensity froze her into a storm of pleasure, almost making her cry with the feelings of a true woman. This was how it was meant to be, the final carnal mystery, she felt complete at last. "Aaahhhhn!" he bellowed, pumping her full of his seed. They rocked to a stop, looking at each other, smiles on their faces, panting from the effort. As she felt her eyes uncross, she felt his lips on hers, and eagerly returned the kiss, showing him how good it felt, thanking him, giving him her very essence. That was wonderful! How do my married friends even leave the house? Laying there, feeling the afterglow of her climax, 'the little death' they called it. How absurd, she thought, there's nothing more deserving of life than that! She hugged him, feeling him distribute his weight so he didn't crush her, but reminding her he was there. "So that was what all the fuss was about," she said finally, "I had no idea. It feels so good, Jon. When can we do it again?" "Well, that's going to be a little while, men aren't ready to go again that fast. Can I hold you?" She nodded, spooning against him, slightly pouting as he fell out. Her body floated languidly as she felt his body touching her from behind. He brushed her hair, causing the grin to remain on her face. The first time, and every bit as special as she could want. Would her old...er, original, oh bother! Whatever he'd be called, would he have done it half as well? Boy meets girl, boy betrays girl, girl gets a better boy, as the penny dreadfuls would have it. She lay quietly, contented...for the moment. Let the Wrong One In She woke up the next morning, still grinning, and stretched catlike as she turned to face him. He lay there, watching her, drinking in her body next to him. He looked tired, the dear, whatever could be the reason? She had slept the sleep of the blissfully fucked, rosy memories and that delightful sensation of exquisite climaxes. "Did you sleep well," she asked, propping herself up on one elbow. "Did I sleep, period?" he said, groaning as he rolled over to kiss her. "Does it so wear a man out to...fuck, like that?" "The first time, no. The next three or four..." "We fucked that many times? I feel so contented." "We ran the whole Kama Sutra, Hypatia...doggy style, cowgirl, standing up, from behind..." he ticked off on his fingers, "oral, even anal...you're going to kill me! But what a way to go." "I remember now. It was so intoxicating! If you're up to it..." she slyly let her hand fondle the angry-colored limp cock. "Ohh...give me a little time, I think it'll snap off if I do it any time soon. I can barely move..." She grinned, already seeing a slight movement, a twitch that had her considering. "I think your body lies, Jon. See, I know him better than you do." "I can't move," he repeated. "I'm, what did you call it? Knackered." Still, he didn't push her hand away. She stroked with growing confidence, this, at least, she knew what to do. She remembered putting it in her mouth, feeling wanton as he told her what to do. Rewarded by a stiffening, she chuckled to herself. It really was a work of art, and so responsive to a knowing hand. And the taste wasn't that bad. Opening her mouth, she kissed the tip, as she heard him moan. She felt sexual power, the ability to take his body, and please him so directly, that her own sex started getting moist. He'd mentioned something... "Jon, what was that number you brought up last night?" "Sixty-nine. I think I could do that. Swing over here, and I'll have you for breakfast." She giggled, and move her legs over him, lowering herself down until his tongue started playing over her. That set her off, intensifying her desire to make him explode in her mouth. I couldn't imagine doing this before, the idea was repulsive, she thought. Now I can't wait. Careful not to bite, she wove intricate patterns over the hot flesh, relishing the hardness. Down below, her pussy, yes, that was what he called it, throbbed to the ministrations of his tongue. She bobbed up and down, licking the secret places that made him lose control. He'd pronounced her first attempts as promising, not knowing she was experimenting, looking for the way to make him lose control. She wasn't an expert yet, but she'd get plenty of practice in the future. Sloppy liquid sounds from his mouth and her sex was exciting in its own way. For every pleasure she gave him, he repaid her, lick for juicy lick. Getting closer, she tried to take more and more of him to the back of her throat. She couldn't get it all the way down, but not for lack of trying. Already she could taste a slippery fluid, eager to have more, she tongued his slit, rewarded by even more. Poor Jon behind her must be drowning by now. Part of her wanted to leap up, reverse places, and plunge him deep inside. If she could only have both at the same time...already she was rocking back in forth on him, threatening to cut off his air, as he pushed upward against her, clearly ready to spend...come, that's what they called it here. Give me your come, Jon, she wished as her own body distracted her, come now, or I won't be able to... She grabbed the sheets, holding herself steady as the hardness in her mouth swelled, and his essence filled her mouth. She swallowed hungrily, showing him no fear, only desire. Spots swam before her eyes as she climaxed herself, gulping and shuddering, as she screamed in ecstasy around the spurting organ in her mouth. Exhausted by the ordeal, she rolled over, his cock popping as it left her suctioning mouth. She lay on her back, panting from the exertion. "I think I need to rest. Three or four times? How did you convince me?" Laughing from near her knees, she heard the matters shift as he twisted to get next to her. "Convince? I think it was the other way around." "Indeed?" "You were quite insistent, as I recall. You may have been a virgin, but you're much more experienced now." Darting a glance at the alarm, he groaned. "Two hours, and then I have to get up for work." "Can I do something for you? Make you breakfast? Lay out your clothes? Anything?" All of the accidents someone unfamiliar with his technology could do flew through his brain. He imagined her trying to scrub the Teflon off his cookware. Patting her scrumptious ass, he started to pull her to him. "No, not necessary. I work from home, now. The cable guys' already set up my connections. Let me hold you, if you can control your raging hormones." "My what? Jonathan Williams, you take that back!" "What? Hormones...bodily fluids that influence your moods and attitude. It's a biological term...remind me when I wake up, and I'll introduce you to the Internet." "The what?" "Nearly everything known, right at your fingertips. Should keep you occupied for a while. Please, you're going to make me waste away...no, leave that alone!" She giggled as she let it go, it was truly done for, flaccid and cute, but not much use. "Very well. I..." she considered telling him how she felt, but not now, not this soon. Two strong arms encircled her, while the rest of his body kept her warm. For the tenth time, she wondered where a blanket might be found. Never mind, she was almost asleep... The most horrible noise in the world is an alarm clock, particularly when one is nestled up with someone very warm, and very dear. Hypatia was on her feet, halfway across the room, before she realized that Jon was reaching for the clock, slamming something on top of it, and making the trump of doom cease. "My word! How wretched! And that's what gets you up in the morning?" "They don't have alarm clocks in your world?" He looked her over, pleased with what he saw. "The servants...Jon, do you have servants?" The idea of keeping a household alone puzzled her. "Eh, I practically am a servant, the way they treat us at work," he groused. "Do they still have servants in London? You must be pretty rich, then." "What else would you do? How could one person do all the washing, cleaning, pressing, all the necessaries for civilized life?" "Hmm...remind me to give you a tour of the kitchen and the laundry room. Right now, I'm hungry. Want some breakfast?" A rumble in her stomach gave her the answer to that question. "May I help?" "Mainly by going through the boxes with me; I've barely started unpacking. Tell you what, I've still got some severance, how about I take you out for breakfast?" "Do you do anything at home? Well, I haven't fresh clothes to wear, and I must look a fright. I can start the hot water machine, and we can bathe." "How water machine? Never heard it called that, but it's already on. Let's get a bath, or maybe a shower. I think you can use some of the..." his face frowned. "Is something the matter?" "Well..." he looked guilty, like a schoolboy caught, "Karen left a bunch of stuff behind, feminine things. I was going to throw them out, but if you want to use them. Lotions, shampoo, all that kind of thing." He waved at the bathroom door. "I...well, I might need some help with unfamiliar things. Heaven knows what kind of tub you have..." her eyes opened in surprise. "Why this is almost big enough for two people, if they were very familiar with each other..." "And they say men have a one-track mind," he said, shaking his head. "Here, let's get your clothes in the washing machine, and maybe we can pick you up some new things at the mall." In the living room, a cloud was forming, blue light shining in radiant shafts over the piles of boxes and disarranged furniture. A small machine landed on the carpet, camera circling, while the effect faded out. The signal ended here. It had been given an order; find the breach, then report. It ignored the laughing and splashing around the corner, and concentrated on collecting data. "I never realized how long a morning could be. The washing machine shows potential, we have something like it, but not so...intelligent. And the dryer, it seems so obvious. Why we don't have something like this..." "It came with the apartment. It's actually an old model, from the looks of it. I've never seen someone be impressed by a washing machine before. It just runs on electricity." "I've never seen my clothes ready to wear in less than a day. I hope this mall has something in my size." "I'm pretty sure they will; something tells me you've never seen anything like a mall. Some women spend the entire day there, shopping." "Sounds interesting, but there's more to life than shopping." "And you're still single...I never thought I'd hear a woman say that." "That there's more to life than shopping? Good heavens, servants do it half the time for you. The rest come to you for fittings, or deliveries, it's something we don't deal with all that often." "Well, there's a mall just behind the eatery. Not sure if they have what you usually have, pickled kippers, or bacon rashers, or marmalade...or whatever they eat." "Do they have tea?" "That they do. Not sure if it's as fancy as you like, but ..." a ding sounded behind them, "that's your dress. Let's see how it did." "Then that's where we'll start, with tea. It's what makes the British Empire possible." "Jon, I feel naked, positively naked." Full of an interesting breakfast, a few stores' worth of clothing, she wore what everyone else was wearing. Women didn't give her a second glance, although most of the men did. "Those boys are staring at me!" she whispered crossly. "I don't blame them a bit. Who knew you'd clean up as nicely as you did?" She glared at him, until she realized he was teasing. "And this...bra thing; my breasts are constantly in motion! Even a common prostitute has more dignified clothing than this!" "I like it. You've got it baby, why not flaunt it?" "A proper lady doesn't flaunt her charms to total strangers. Why aren't any of the ladies wearing...oh my heavens!" An attractive woman in a summer top and shorts strolled by on pumps, oblivious to Hypatia's outrage. "Was that an actual soiled dove? Are we on the proper side of your city? Where have you taken me?" "Is anyone complaining about what you're wearing? Are any of the women pointing or laughing? You blend in here, dressed like that. Your clothes are clean, and you can be out in the world without explaining the goggles or the fedora. I thought a fedora was a guy hat." "Actually, women have worn them for over a century. Some men wear them, but fashions change so much more slowly at home. I just, I've never felt so exposed before. And that woman going on about shaving my legs, and my sex..." "Be thankful I didn't take you to a beachwear shop. If you saw a bikini, your head might explode." Seeing her hurt expression, he held her shoulders. "Look, I know this is a strange place to you. I can't begin to imagine what would happen if I showed up in casual wear in your world." "You'd be arrested for indecent exposure, after the laughter died out." "I deserved that," he whispered to himself, "Jon, don't fuck this one up." Looking her in the eyes, he kissed her cheek. "If you're uncomfortable, I can take you home. I have some things I need to do anyway. Want to go back?" She blushed, but nodded. "Your house looks like a sty, and needs a woman's touch. You tell me how things work, and I shall endeavor to put them to good use. I've been a burden on your hospitality, I feel I should make amends." He gave her a look. "You've given me a lot more than you know. You're a scientist, I should show you the web, while I finish up a few pages for the site. I think you'll be pleased." Inside the car, she still looked at all the people filing in and out of the huge building. It was hard to discern who was a servant or not, but in this world, they evidently were quite rare. Passing a spot on the side of the road, she saw a dozen girls washing cars for a charity event. Her jaw dropped as she saw how little they were wearing. "Oh lord, what are they wearing?" "Bikinis. What girls wear at the beach." "Why, they're worse than naked! And hardly of the age to be introduced to society. I know I'm definitely in another world now. And those boys..." "Uh huh, thought you'd notice. Just hope you want to still dance with the one that brung ya." "What? I swear we're two people separated by a common language sometimes." "Churchill." "Who? No, Shaw!" "Whatever..." he pointed. "Look, we're back." Climbing the steps, he valiantly grabbed her purchases, and they went up the back (breaking) steps, he'd forever call them, after lifting a life's worth of furniture and possessions on them. He got out the keys, and started to open. "Shit, I must have unlocked them on the way out. I hope nothing's..." They stepped into the hallway, and looked into the room. The boxes had been opened, things strewn everywhere; clothes CDs, knickknacks and chotchkes, it sounded like whoever was robbing the place hadn't finished. And over by his computers, stood a woman, avidly watching the screens, while a small robotic spider plugged into the side, doing something. "What the fuck are you doing in here? And what are you doing to my computer?" He started forward to confront the intruder, but she absently said, "Ah, English. Defend." The robot disengaged, and pointed at him. He slowed down, and something hit him. He didn't see anything, or feel anything, but his legs wouldn't move. Behind him, he heard all the bags hit the floor at the same time. "You! You...bitch! What have you done to him?" The amount of hatred in the voice startled him. He couldn't move, but he saw her fly past him, arms forward, nails clenched, and ready to do some unladylike things to their attacker. She glanced up, and pointed, and soon she stood a few paces in front of him, still trying to tear the other limb from limb. "Miss Bowdler, I can't conceive of the perfidity of this! Not content with stealing my intended away in one universe, you aim to do it again?" "Who? Ah, there must be a doppelganger in this one. I'm no Miss Bowdler, woman. I'm Rena Bodellia, Decurion of the Conquest Band, of the Multiplanar Empire of Rome, and I claim this planet in the name of the Empire." "Bullshit. One woman with a couple of magic tricks isn't going to conquer us." He felt guilty, realizing he could still talk. "You must be the Williams, or Williams, however your language works, I'm still assimilating it. Not a bad little world, fairly advanced, just on the cusp of the age of nanotech. In another fifty years, you might pose a challenge, but not right now. Not too helpful on the resource front, your industries are consuming them fairly efficiently, but the population...by Zeus you've gone to seed. Soldiers, I think, will be your contribution to the Empire. Maybe slaves, though they're not as profitable as they used to be. Now pretty tits over there, she'd fetch a few aurum on the market." "We've got enough wars going already, go fight your own," he said hotly. Who was this lunatic? She stood up, some militaristic black leather jumpsuit studded with pockets and buttons, no obvious weapons, but then he was stuck here, wasn't he? "You show some potential; nice bod, could use a couple of improvements. You know," she said silkily, moving towards him, "I could claim the right of first subjugation, right here in front of your mate. She could watch. I bet I could teach her some things, after I've finished with you." "I should know you'd not be satisfied with humiliating me back home, you'd have to come here to plague me." Jon wished he could see her expression, but she faced away from him. "I don't know what you're talking about. Must be another doppelganger. I've never seen this plane before, but having discovered it, I'm going to be rich, rich rich!" she laughed."The bonus for an undiscovered plane will cancel all my debts, and you get a private audience with the Emperor himself!" She frowned, looking at Hypatia. "Wait a deccan, your readings are off. You're not...no, you're not from this plane either! Two planes in one day! Two worlds to conquer. No one's done that in a century or more." She stood in front of Hypatia, leering at her. "Tell me where your world is, and I might just let you keep him," she bargained. "I don't know," Hypatia said, crossly, "and if I did, I assure you you'd be facing a world united against slavery! But if you want the other Jonathan, you're welcome to him...wait, you already have him, Mrs. Bowdler. Your husband must be turning in his grave." "Me, a husband? Heh, you know, you're right. For this, I could get a boon from the Emperor, but that would mean giving up planes walking, and I'm having too much fun for that. And who needs a husband when you've got hot and cold running studs waiting at home?" She gestured towards Jon. "Let's show you what you could be having." Jon got a sudden, sinking feeling this was not going to turn out well. He watched her approach him, hungrily eyeing him up and down. "Now, let's get these clothes off, and I'll show you what we can do with a man." She commanded the robot spider with a language that sounded faintly familiar, like old Catholic services, or legal proceedings. Hypatia swung around, facing him, struggling against whatever it was that held them fast. "You won't get away with this," he threatened, helpless but still defiant. "Already have, Jonathun. You'll do whatever I like, whether you like it or not. I've filled the both of you with nannites, they're blocking your nervous systems from firing, that's why you're frozen like that. They can move you any way I want. And I can stimulate you in ways you can't imagine." "Jonathan, lady. Don't do this in front of her...please." he begged. "Why not? I want to see the betrayal reflected in her eyes as I have you. I want her to see you pleasured in ways she could never match, the total humiliation as I make you mine. You don't understand dominance at all. Say good bye to pretty tits, she's lost to you forever." "Fuck you." She laughed. "Direct, and to the point, just the way I like it. By the way, I can induce pain instead of pleasure, so no heroics, or you'll feel like you've been dipped in lava. I own you, slave.' "I'm nobody's slave, bitch." Anger and fear were all he had left. "You keep saying that. I want to break you, slowly. You're just another in a long string of men and near-men I've broken over the years. That's what makes it such fun." Near-men? What a perv, can't even keep it in her own species. He told her, as she laughed again. "Ah, some places didn't evolve men, but they came close. What's a pointed ear or two, when you're really going at it?" She undid the belt buckle, and experimented with the zipper. "Kinky. Haven't seen one of these at home, except in museums." She pulled his pants and underwear down, looking attentively at his crotch. "Nice, if a little on the small size. Let's fix that." Another command in that strange tongue, and his cock started heating up. A pressure started building in the shaft and balls, which started swelling, hanging farther downwards, thickening, veins becoming more prominent. He couldn't see because he couldn't move his head. He could see Hypatia's eyes, worried and cautious, a cold fury in them directed at the woman below. "Now, that's more like it. Hmm, tum needs a six-pack, and some more muscle in the shoulders..." The heat spread to his body, and he felt the mother of all stomach cramps as fat turned to muscle. If he could move, he'd be doubled over in pain, but fortunately, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Still, the pain was intense; she was pushing it to change faster than normal, it felt like he was being beaten.