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Time Differences Ch. 01

By: Spinneret



Part 1: An Impossible Situation I was still waking up in what we were arbitrarily calling the morning when Clarissa and Augusta came to visit me, which was unfortunate, because I'd taken to sleeping naked -- the House was happy to keep my room warm enough, we still didn't have much choice in clothes, and I didn't feel inclined to sleep in a shapeless robe-gown-thing. Anyway, it was only a problem if someone chose to walk in on me unexpected, which the girls, being very well-brought-up young ladies, weren't usually inclined to do.   Sure, I might have expected them to knock, as polite young ladies surely should. However, the House wasn't built that way -- the walls and doors were dense and sound-proof, and it had a habit of opening doors helpfully when anyone walked up to them -- so it wasn't their fault.

So the first thing I knew was when I was brought fully awake by a gasp and a squeal of girlish conversation. I looked up to see them standing in the doorway with their backs to me. I apologised and grabbed a gown, told the House to switch the windows to fully clear, then told them they could turn round now.

"Sorry," I said again.

"No," said Augusta, "it was entirely our fault."

"And anyway," said Clarissa, "we have seen you before."

That was true. These two were the most adventurous of the seven women who'd been here when I first arrived, and had discovered me lying in the field outside the House.

"Well, anyway," I said, waving them to two of the stools which were scattered round my room while I sat on the bed, "what can I do for you?"

"We wish to talk about ... matters," said Augusta, looking nervous. It didn't suit her; she was the tallest of the girls, blonde and quite Amazonian. She was quite a looker, really, but also slightly intimidating; she not only wore her hair plaited, like most of the girls, but she somehow persuaded it to wrap around her head in a formal sort of style that made her look seriously stern.

"The House," said Clarissa, in more of a rush. "We are unsure of its intentions -- for all of us."

"Well, yes," I agreed, "but it's not done us any harm yet, and it seems to try to give us what we ask for."

"Except for sending us home," Augusta said.

"We have to believe that it's telling the truth -- that it can't do that," I said, as gently as I could manage. "It's studying us, I'm sure, but I don't think that we're in danger."

"Yes," said Clarissa, fixing me with her rather scary stare, "but what does it wish of us?"

I sighed, while trying not to show it. The crazy thing was that she wasn't sounding at all crazy, and this was a good question.



Time Differences Ch. 01



"Augusta! " Clarissa gasped, and I realised that she'd been stunned by what had happened.

Augusta looked her. "Do not be foolish, Clarissa," she positively snapped. "There is no society to be shocked, no parents to beat me -- we are cast utterly adrift, as you yourself keep saying. And Mr Evans is all we have."

"Aside from Mr Frake," Clarissa reminded her pointlessly. The poor sod who'd been sailing the boat with the seven women aboard when it capsized in a sudden squall was paralysed with shock, and showed no signs of recovering yet.

"Do not be childish, Clarissa," Augusta snapped.

"You are the child who seeks comfort in hugs!"

"I thought that you took what I was doing to be more than that!"

"So Mr Evans is to replace Walter as your sweetheart, then? And what of Elspeth, or Georgiana? Who will replace their lost sweethearts?"

Augusta simply shrugged at that.

"So you dream of this... this informal marriage with Mr Evans, perhaps?"

"Perhaps. After all, the House assures us that it would be safe."

"Safe? And so you can hope to engage in intim... in carnal relations with this man for amusement? Perhaps you should share him with Elspeth and Georgiana!"

"Excuse me," I cut in, "but you're neither of you thinking much here. Just back down and take a deep breath, okay?"

The two girls glowered at each other, but stopped talking for a moment. Then Augusta turned back to me, placing a hand on my upper arm. "I apologise, Simon," she said, "we were indeed being foolish. And nor did I consider your own feelings just now."

"Don't worry," I said, "I wasn't insulted. And by the way, Walter was going to be a very lucky guy."

"Really?" she asked.

"Surely."

"Ah, cooing like lovebirds," Clarissa sneered from the other stool.

Augusta stared at her. "Clarissa," she said firmly, "kindly leave us."

Clarissa gasped. "Alone?" she asked.

"There is no one else here. And you are clearly disinclined to be polite to us."

"And what should I tell the others?"

Augusta stared at her, her chin jutting. "Tell them what you wish!" she snapped.

After a moment, Clarissa, matched stare for stare, rose to her feet and marched from the room. Augusta went to the door after she'd left and it had closed. "House," she said, "do not open this door for anyone outside the room, do you understand?"   "Yes," the House replied.

"And cease attending to us," Augusta added. The walls went dark again.

"Umm," I said, "I don't know much about your etiquette, but haven't you just burned a lot of bridges?"

"I suppose that I have, Simon. But I do not suppose that I care." She sat down again.

"Well, don't worry," I said, "Clarissa will calm down eventually, I'm sure."

"After she has blackened my reputation -- and yours -- I fear."

"I'll live with that, if you can. And don't worry..."

"What of?"

"I will be a gentleman, still, whatever Clarissa may say."

"Oh, that." Augusta positively grimaced at me. "Do you know, I had not given the matter one thought? And I do believe that I do not even care."

"Ah. Well." I was sitting on one of the stools at this point, and Augusta was still standing by the door. I wasn't sure what to say next, but she stepped towards me.

"Stand up, please, Simon," she said. I obeyed, and she put her arms around me, and kissed me again. I decided that we might as well kiss properly, and she gasped as I explored her mouth with my tongue, but then relaxed, and smiled as we broke the kiss.

"That was surely what the novelists call passionate," she said, "but very pleasant. And..."

"Yes?"

"You feel -- strange."

"Oh, that," I said, probably blushing as she pressed her thinly-clad body against mine.

"Is that your -- your male member?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so."

She bit her lip again. I decided that the look of uncertainty that gave her nicely relieved her normal Amazonian style. "I should be shocked," she said, "but instead, I fear that I merely find myself curious."

Oops. This was going places which I probably ought to avoid. However, in my hormone-addled way, I could also see reasons why I might not bother. Augusta had burned those bridges, after all.

"Look," I said, "you ought to understand -- I'm likely to take this sort of thing as an offer. And it's an offer I'm likely to accept. You probably ought to walk out of that door right now."

"And meet Clarissa, gloating outside? No, thank you, Simon. I would rather that you assuaged my curiosity."

I looked at her, and then shrugged. I should have been dead, but instead I was some inconceivable time into the future, with no idea what came next. I was going to play everything by ear -- or by some other part of my anatomy.

I gathered up the one garment I was wearing, pulled it off, and stood naked in front of Augusta. Just looking at her and thinking what might come next ensured that my erection remained as strong as she'd felt as she hugged me, and now she gasped as she saw it.

"Surely," she murmured, "that is... It's impossible..."

I tried to make my smile as kind as possible. "You'd be surprised what's possible, when you relax," I said. "And fun, too."

She took a nervous step towards me, and reached out one hand to just brush my shaft. The moment of contact sent a thrill through me, although she pulled her hand away instantly. Then she looked from there to my face. "Should I assuage your curiosity?" she asked.

"That's not an offer I can refuse," I said.

"But please -- turn away."

I shrugged and turned around, and heard a rustle behind me. Then there was a pause, before Augusta said simply, "Simon..."

I turned around again, and saw that she'd turned away from me. But she was naked, and a blush was spreading all across her body. I stepped up behind her and held her by the shoulders. "You know," I said, "you have what would be called a lovely arse, in my time."

"Really, Simon," she said, "I am not utterly ignorant. I know that word."

"Okay, so it's not a twentieth century invention, I gather. Still, it's true." I moved closer to her, and she gasped as my hard-on pressed against her back. I kissed the back of her neck, and then looked down at her breasts. They were indeed attractive, so I put my arms around her to cup them gently.

She made a soft moaning noise in her throat. "What now, Simon?" she asked.

"Now, we just sit on the bed," I said, and led her there. We sat side by side, and she looked at me again, so I kissed her again, holding and gently fondling one of her breasts as I did so. She moaned softly again, and began to get the hang of kissing me back.

"Would you like to lie down?" I asked, and she didn't say anything in reply but just lay back on the bed. I lay beside her, and traced my hand from her breast across her ribs and stomach to her pussy. She gasped. "Easy," I said, "just open your thighs a little..."

Later, it occurred to me that she was so used to doing what she was told, especially by men who were older than her, that I could really have been guilty of taking advantage of her. Perhaps I was indeed all too eager to get laid again, after being stuck for days with seven women for company and not so much as a touch. But I'll swear that she looked nervous rather than scared, and sometimes more curious than nervous, and the noises she was making in her throat sounded pretty positive. Anyway, she opened her legs, and I probed her cunt with a fingertip. She was tight, of course, but she was also becoming lubricated. I shifted a bit, and kissed her breasts as I fondled her cunt and brushed her clitoris with my thumb. But all that just made me increasingly eager -- to put it politely -- and impatience was getting the better of me.

"Open a little more," I murmured, and knelt between her thighs. She glanced down, saw my erection again, and looked to one side, closing her eyes. I did my best to make things go smoothly, carefully placing the tip of my cock at her entrance. But that left me in an unbalanced position, and I knew that I had to act straight away.

"Augusta," I said.

"Yes?" she said, and I pushed.

It was uncomfortable for me at that moment; it must have been worse for her. But anyway, I gasped and pressed the full length of my body down on her, and she moaned. "That's it," I said, "that's done now..."

"And I am no longer a maiden?" she asked.

I smiled. "No," I said, "definitely not."

She looked at me and smiled sheepishly, and then held me, but she was gasping repeatedly; I realised that she was still recovering from the discomfort, and still confused. I kissed her on the cheek. "Take it easy," I murmured. "Just relax -- close your eyes again, if you like. Think about whatever you like."

She did close her eyes, and began to breathe more steadily as I moved against and inside her carefully. "Oh," she said, and then she repeated the noise several times. "Oh!" she said louder, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing hard. "Oh, Walter!"

Instantly, she realised what she'd said. Her eyes shot open, and she gasped. "Oh, Mr Evans!" she said. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm... I cannot..."

"Hush," I said. "Hush. Think about whatever you want. Walter would have been a lucky guy, and you loved him, and I'm just what you're stuck with. But just enjoy what you've got, okay? I promise that it'll only get better and better from now on."

She couldn't look me in the eye, or find anything else to say, so I set to work distracting her, moving as steadily and carefully as I could. At first, she just held me, but then she began to run her hands up and down my back, and I began trying to think about something else so as to distract myself and keep things going. I managed; before I lost control, she gasped and squeezed me hard, managing some small squeak of pleasure. I lifted myself above her, and she smiled at me uncertainly; then I more or less involuntarily increased the strength and speed of my thrusts for a few seconds until I came into her with a groan. She looked worried then, but when I focussed again, I smiled at her reassuringly and lowered myself onto her once more.

But the raw pleasure of getting laid for the first time in weeks (from my point of view -- in rather longer, according to the House) had meant that I'd used everything I'd got at that point, and my erection quickly began to shrink. I rolled off her, and smiled at her again, and I was pleased to see her smile back.





Time Differences Ch. 01



Augusta was waiting for me there. In fact, she was naked and lying flat on the bed. She'd let her hair down -- literally -- and her blonde curls were fanned across the pillow. Her bush was the same shade of blonde, and covered her pussy as a soft gold triangle. I stopped to look at her; she no longer looked half so stern. She looked back at me, a little sadly as it seemed to me.

"Good afternoon, Simon," she said.

"Good afternoon," I replied. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you, Simon. But..."

"Yes?" I sat on the edge of the bed and caressed her foot.

"Do you see me as a -- a harlot? A sinner? A Jezebel? A depraved woman?"

"Is that what Clarissa or Miss Halstead are calling you?"

"Perhaps. Most probably."

"Well, whatever. You can be any of those things if you wish."

She frowned. "Why should I wish?" she asked.

"Sex," I said, "is about doing what you enjoy. But even in my time, not every woman feels that it's quite right, in her heart of hearts. Not for a nice woman. That's stupid, really, it's crap -- but if you have to think of yourself as a harlot when you're in the bedroom, to let yourself enjoy it, then go ahead. It doesn't change what you are really, to the rest of the world."

She smiled thoughtfully. "I think that I see. Tell me, Simon -- have you been acquainted with many harlots? True harlots, that is?"

I shook my head. "Never needed them," I said.

"Ah well. You see, I have no idea how a harlot should behave."

"A real harlot is mostly in it for the money, I gather. But that's not the point. What you have to do is whatever you enjoy -- or whatever the other person enjoys. Anything that doesn't hurt either of you is permitted."

She frowned again. "What manner of things?" she asked.

I thought for a second. "I'll show you a few," I said. "Come on."

I took off my own garment, and then looked back to Augusta. She looked puzzled as I took her by the hand, but she let me lead her into what the House had decided was appropriate for a bathroom. I guessed that it had designed this from first principles, but the result was basically a giant wet room, and pleasant enough to use.

"I'm feeling sweaty," I said. "House, a warm shower, please -- medium temperature on my preferences, fairly high pressure."

Augusta gasped as water jets hit us both from all directions, and I guessed that she and the other girls hadn't really thought to explore this technology as much as I had. In a second, we were both soaked, and I found the bar of neutral-scented soap-like stuff that I'd managed to get the House to create with a lot of explanation and trial and error, and began to soap Augusta down. She smiled as I ran my hands over her breasts and back, and then stood with her arms resting on my shoulders as I knelt and attended to her belly and thighs. Then I stood up, put the soap aside, and looked her in the eyes. "Take a step back," I said, "you'll want to lean against the wall."

She looked puzzled, but obeyed. I finished working the last suds out of her bush, then leaned forward and buried my face in her cunt. She gasped and tensed, and I reached round and clasped both her buttocks with me hands. I paused for a moment and looked up at her. "Just open your legs a little further," I said, and she obeyed. My tongue found its way to her cunt lips, and I tasted the salty softness of her, and then I explored further and found her clitoris.

She began gasping, and fondled my head gently. "Oh, Simon," she moaned repeatedly. "Oh, Simon...."

I was determined to carry on for as long as this might take; if our first fuck had been a relief for me and a confusing experience for her, I wanted to make very sure that she'd come back for more. But it turned out that I didn't have much of a problem; evidently, this was a girl with healthy appetites, as I might have guessed from the way she'd talked herself into giving herself to me earlier, despite all her upbringing and naivety. After a few minutes, she squealed and moaned, and slumped back further against the wall. I looked up from her pussy, and realised that she'd nearly fainted. I shifted quickly, supporting her with my hands as I rose to my feet, and then held her against me.

"Heavens," she murmured after a moment. "Is that -- is that natural?"

"It's called an orgasm," I said. "It's why your mother told you that having a man could be fun."

She drew a breath. "I could wish that I had known of such things sooner," she said with a smile.

"I can understand why your mother wouldn't tell you the whole story," I said. "No man would be safe."

She smiled again, uncertainly. "But I took only a smaller pleasure earlier," she said. "Must you -- kiss me in that way to accomplish that?"

I smiled back. "Oh, you can have just as much fun with me inside you," I told her. "That was just an option."

"And should I -- repay you in kind?" she asked.

"Only as much as you wish."

She took a deep breath. "Lean against the wall," she told me, and I obeyed. She knelt down and looked at my cock and balls. "They are still very strange to me," she said, "and I am still amazed that they fitted within me."

"Never underestimate yourself."

She stared thoughtfully at my groin as the warm water continued to run down both of us, then leaned forward and gave my cock a quick kiss, near the base. It twitched reflexively in response, and she pulled back with a start.

"It's okay," I said.

She leaned forward again and kissed my cock and balls quickly, several times. My cock had already been tumescent; now it began to grow hard and long. She gasped, and I caressed her head, murmuring appreciatively. She glanced up at me.

"Is this perhaps such a thing as a harlot would do?" she asked.

"Perhaps," I admitted. "Do you mind being my harlot?"

"No," she murmured, gazing fascinatedly at my cock.

"Oh, you beautiful little harlot," I said to her. She grinned, and I realised that she did want this feeling. "Sorry I can't pay you what you're worth..."

"Then give me such as you may afford," she said, sinking down and sprawling backwards on the floor. I smiled -- okay, to be honest, I smirked; she was definitely getting the hang of this. So I knelt down between her open thighs, took my cock in my hand, and guided it to her cunt. She gasped as I thrust into her again, but it sounded like pure pleasure this time.

"Yes!" she said, "Use me as your harlot! I would be yours, your -- your whore! To hell with Clarissa and her kind!"

I wasn't sure what to say, so I kept thrusting, and she started gasping in time with my thrusts. I put a hand under her head; I didn't want to batter her against the floor with my enthusiasm. I assumed that her back and buttocks were already suffering -- my knees were taking a bit of a hammering -- but she didn't seem to mind; she wrapped her arms and legs around me, and squealed my name.

I held on for as long as I could, but all this was frankly too bloody good after too long without; after a couple of minutes, I levered myself up, straining against her embrace to look down at her face and body, and then came with a groan. But even as I began to collapse against her, I heard a soft moan, and realised that I'd lasted long enough for her to find her own pleasure again.

"Sweet little harlot," I murmured in her ear.

"Vile seducer," she whispered back to me, with another giggle.

After a moment, I rolled off her, and we lay side by side on the floor for a moment as the shower washed the sweat and sex juices off our bodies. Suddenly, she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, Mr Ev... Simon," she said, almost formally.

"Thank you," I replied.

I told the water to stop, and called up jets of warm air. Then we used what the House had provided as towels to dry each other down, and went back to the bedroom, where we lay together for a while. I saw that Augusta was frowning.

"Problem?" I asked.

"Oh, Simon," she said, "this is not love, is it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. It's sex, and it's a comfort... I doubt that it's what your novels would call love, but it's what we've got. And you're getting good at it, by the way."

"I suppose all that is what we must accept. But if you do not love me, why should you choose me before any of the others?"

"Honestly?" I asked. She nodded. "Because you offered," I said. "I'm afraid that you were right about men, really -- we like sex too much to want to refuse it when it's freely offered. And you got in first. And you're a gorgeous woman, so I'm not complaining."

"Then how may I trust you not to accept the same offer from any of the others? They need comfort too, and some among them dreamed of their sweethearts. Perhaps some of them will come to you, too."

"Because I don't want to hurt you now. You made the first claim, and I'll respect that."

"That hardly seems fair to them," she said, and I stared at her, and then laughed.

"So it goes, I'm afraid," I said.

She smiled back at me, but she didn't laugh. "So you say, but perhaps there might yet be unhappiness," she said.

"Well, I don't know what I can do about that," I said.

She frowned. "There may be a simple resolution," she said. "You have made me your harlot, and harlots have no exclusive claim on their men. Perhaps I should simply permit you to give comfort where it is asked."

I stared at her again. "Could you really put up with that?" I asked.

"Perhaps," she said. "After all, this is not love. To be honest, I think that I love the other girls more, as sisters, than I do you as a sweetheart. I would that they should find comfort."

"Wow. I don't know whether to be hurt or flattered. But don't get too generous with me. You ought to know that we men have our limits. I'm... kind of spent now. Pleasuring seven women could exhaust me."

"Oh..."

"Yes, though we do have a saying in my time; 'What a way to go...' Look, don't let's get ahead of ourselves here. I'm sure that we can find some way to keep everyone happy."

She smiled. "I hope so," she said, and then got up and pulled her dress back on. "But now I should go and talk to them more, I think. Better that they hear the truth from my lips than that they speculate foolishly. And..." She paused.

"Yes?"

"I should reassure them that you are not hurting me or keeping me prisoner. I am sorry if they would think that, but they might."

I laughed. "Go on," I said, "show them that you can do what you like. And by the way..."

"Yes?"

"I like what you like."

After she'd gone, I sat on my bed and stared at the wall a while. Then, an idea occurred to me.

"House," I said, "I may need some medical assistance."

"Of what kind?" the walls asked.

"What do you know about human sex acts?"

"The other intelligences and I have studied your anatomy and biochemistry," the House answered, "and I have readings from your recent activities."

I sat bolt upright. "What?" I said, "You told us you gave us privacy!"

"I do," said the House. "When you request it, I pay no attention to you. Attention is not the same as recording data. I exist in order to record data. I cannot stop doing that."

"Okay...." This was something to think about later. "Anyway, I may need to be at my best..."

The conversation took some time, with me talking about things like Viagra and the House asking a lot of questions, but in the end, it understood what I needed. Then something that resembled a tiny insect flew down from somewhere on the walls of my room and embedded itself in the skin of my arm with a pinprick feeling that I barely noticed, and that was that. I didn't feel any different, but from what the House told me, I'd now have the stamina and conscious control of a porn star. It was already subtly ensuring that we were all in pretty good physical condition; now, I could use that in the most interesting possible way, if necessary.

I got the chance to test its work a few hours later.



Time Differences Ch. 02



Part 2: The Alternatives 

I was alone that evening, relaxing with my feet up on the bed, when Jemima and Sarah came to see me in my room. I'd wondered if Augusta would come to me again, but when she didn't, I thought it was best to leave her to her own devices for a while; she had to deal with the others and try and remain on some kind of civilised terms with them, and having me blundering around in ignorance of the social niceties wouldn't help. I wasn't sure if there were any sort of rules to follow when you'd just seduced one of a group of Victorian maidens and she was trying to persuade the rest of them that this didn't make her some kind of subhuman trollop, but if there were, I'd be sure to get them wrong.

Still, when the door opened, I wondered and hoped if it'd be her. But it wasn't; instead, I got Jemima and Sarah, nervous and giggly as a pair of twelve-year-olds. Sarah was the youngest of the six -- I gathered that her eighteenth birthday would actually have fallen a few days after they'd been snatched through time, although the group had still been too stunned and confused to celebrate it -- and she looked and acted like the baby of the group, slim and quiet, with mid-brown curly hair she'd somehow contrived to keep cut quite short and often a little untidy. Jemima was a crucial few months older, and frankly the least pretty of the six, broader in the hips than in the bust, with slightly protruding teeth that added an incongruous lisp to her rather loud voice and shoulder-length dark hair in the same single plait that most of the others had adopted. The two tended to hang around together; I got the impression that they needed the mutual support, and neither of them was quite friendly enough with any of the others.

"Can I do something for you?" I asked.

They shuffled into the room, and looked at me tentatively. "We have been talking to Augusta," Sarah began nervously.

"Oh," I said. "Well, I hope that she's okay, and that no one's been bullying her."

"No, Simon," Sarah replied, "she is our friend, and we could not refuse to talk to her. And what she told us was quite curious."

"Really?"

"Yes," Jemima said, taking up the thread of conversation. "She believes that we may engage in ... carnal relations, because we are stranded in a world without any rules that we once knew. She believes that the House has removed all ... consequences, and it confirms that."

"That's one way to put it all, yes," I said. "What she did with me was a harmless comfort."

"And as you are the only sane man in this whole world, she even holds that we may share you with her."

"Uh, yeah. She said that to me, too. I can understand if you find that a bit much, though; it surprised me when she said it."

Jemima snorted. "If one rule is abandoned, why not every rule, Mr Evans?"

"Did she say that?"

"Yes," Sarah murmured.

"Well, I guess it's sort of logical," I admitted. "I'm not abandoning every rule, though."

"Mr Evans -- Simon," Jemima cut in again, "I confess -- Augusta talk may be wild and crazed, but in this -- crazed place, it seems as sensible to me as anything else. And she insists that carnal relations with you were a great delight."

"Okay..." I said cautiously. "Do I get the idea that you two want to find out if she was right?"

"I do," Jemima said.

"And you?" I said to Sarah.

"I am merely ... puzzled," Sarah muttered. "I would like to see what this all entails. And that no harm comes to sweet Jemima."

I couldn't suppress a laugh. "I'm not used to performing for an audience," I said, "but I guess..." I might once have insisted on more privacy -- I'm not an exhibitionist by nature -- but a surge in my groin made me think that either this idea was turning me on, or the House's medical treatment was giving me any extra vigour I'd need for this. "I'm enough of a gentleman not to refuse a lady's request. Come over here, Jemima."

Jemima obeyed, and Sarah slipped over to a stool on the far side of the room and sat quietly. I sat up and massaged Jemima's shoulder as she perched on the edge of the bed. "You know what all this involves, I hope," I said to her.

"Yes," she said, "although there is something I do not understand." I nodded at her to go on. "Augusta has described to us ... what you did..."

"Yes?" I said, wondering what exactly Augusta had said -- and how she'd said it. Had she drawn diagrams?

Jemima took a deep breath. "My people own a farm, Mr Ev... Simon. We are gentlefolk, but some would say that we were rather rural, I fear. And I was permitted to walk freely about the farm from a young age."

"All very healthy," I said, "but I don't see..."

"Please, Simon. I fear that my parents were a little careless, and the farm people likewise. And so I did see animals ... I was aware of what was entailed in breeding the beasts on the farm."

"Ah," I said. "Well, what humans do is a bit different, but yeah, that should have given you some idea of the thing."

"I thought so. But then, Augusta spoke to us."

"What's your problem?"

"Mr... Simon, when I observed these matters, the ... male animal covered the female from behind, in every case. But Augusta..." She trailed off in confusion and embarrassment.

I did my best not to laugh. "Ah," I said. "Yes, well -- you're right, that's one of the ways humans do it differently. Face to face. Actually, all sorts of positions are possible -- from behind can work -- but face-to-face is normal, really."

To my bemusement, Jemima broke into a broad smile at that. I suddenly realised that the question must have been nagging at her; perhaps it was a distraction from bigger worries, but just getting that one thing straightened out was actually a relief for her. "Well," she said, "that is what we shall do, then."

She twisted round, and lay beside me on the bed. I leant over and kissed her mouth, and she responded willingly, if a little clumsily. I ran a hand up her side, but it became tangled with the fabric of her dress.

"You'll have to take that off," I said.

She took a deep breath. "Very well," she said, "but please -- not in such strong light..."

"Sure," I said, and turned my head away from her. "House," I said, "half light, please -- and don't let anybody else into the room for now, and stop paying us attention."

The lights dimmed as requested; I had to take the other stuff on trust. Jemima sat up, and with another deep breath, pulled her dress off over her head. I decided that it would be best for her confidence if I got rid of my own clothes likewise.

"Oh," said Sarah quietly from across the room as she saw my naked body. Jemima ran a silent, quizzical gaze over me.

"You are -- not like a bull or a ram, Mr Evans," Jemima said.

"Looking at you could make me feel like one," I said, and she frowned. "Sorry," I said, "that was meant as a joke, and a compliment."

"Ah. Yes, I suppose I understand." She cracked a smile. "Thank you, Mr Evans."

"First, for Pete's sake call me Simon. And second..."

"Yes ... Simon?"

"Lie back."

She obeyed, and I ran an eye over her body. Not the greatest figure, no, but young and healthy, with medium-sized breasts and a full, thick pubic bush -- and I'd always preferred the natural look, so this was fine by me.

I leaned forward and placed a series of kisses on her throat, which made her sigh quite happily, and then traced my way down to her left breast, reaching the nipple, which I tongued for a moment and then took very gently between my teeth. She gasped, and I stopped.

"You okay?" I asked.

"I am well," she said, but uncertainly. "That seems very strange and intimate."

"But not unpleasant, I hope?"

"No -- not truly..."

"Just lie back and enjoy, then," I said.

I moved my lips to her right nipple and repeated the process there, while fondling her left breast. She continued to make small gasping noises, but I decided that they were becoming increasingly relaxed and happy. So I shifted up and kissed her on the mouth, and then looked at her. She was looking thoughtful, so I kissed her again. After the third attempt, she smiled, so during the fourth, I moved my hand down and caressed her pussy. She gasped again, but I continued, and after a moment, she relaxed enough to open her thighs a little way, allowing my fingertips to find the entrance to her cunt, warm and soft and, yes, becoming moist.

I broke from kissing her to look at her again. "It's easy, really," I said.

She looked at me and then reached down to touch my cock, tentatively but seeming more curious than nervous. "My," she said with a nervous laugh, "I think that you put any ram to shame."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I said.

Jemima looked thoughtful. "Perhaps," she said, "do you think -- is now the time..."

"I'll only do anything if you're willing," I told her.

She drew a deep breath. "Simon," she said, "you may tup me. Yes, I think I would be pleased if you should tup me!"

I couldn't help smiling at that, but I restrained a laugh this time. Farm girls! Still, I understood that a gentleman isn't supposed to disappoint a lady, and so I put myself between her legs and guided my erection into the entrance to her cunt. Then I took a deep breath and pushed.

There was no question that she'd been a virgin before, nor that she wasn't one any longer. We both moaned and grimaced as I buried myself in her, and then paused.

"Oh my," said Sarah from her stool across the room. "Are you in pain, sweet Jemima?"

"Oh, don't fuss," said Jemima, but softly and kindly. "I've known far worse." She wriggled her hips experimentally.

Okay, she was treating getting fucked by me as an uncomfortable but tolerable duty with some interesting features. Fine; I could work with that. So I carried on fucking her, building a steady rhythm of thrusts while holding myself above her on my hands. She ran her hands uncertainly up and down my sides; her eyes were closed now, and her mouth was open as she gasped repeatedly. But she also pulled her knees up and her legs further apart, straining to let me deeper into her

I leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, and when she turned her head a little, I nuzzled at her face until I was able to kiss her on the mouth. "It gets better with practise, I promise," I said.

She gave a quick smile, but then a wince. "I can see how it might become a fine thing, were I not so tender," she said. "Forgive me my clumsiness..."

"You're not clumsy," I said, "you're learning. And you're beautiful."

"Oh, really, Simon," she almost snapped at that, "I know that I am no beauty."

"That's the thing with sex, though," I said as I continued with slow, steady thrusts, "it shows a man that every woman is beautiful."

She giggled, and then threw her arms around me, and then wrapped her legs around my thighs. "What lovely words you say, Simon," she said in my ear. "You're a plausible rogue, aren't you? Well, you've ravished another poor maiden now..."

Damn, I thought, I've been too long without... Even after Augusta had relieved me of a lot of tension, I was still finding this too bloody exciting -- or perhaps the House's little medical tweaks were over-compensating too much, or something. I found myself thrusting faster and faster, until I came with a gasp, then collapsed in Jemima's arms as she squeezed me excitedly.

"I'm sorry," I said to her, "I should have done more for you -- I will, later..."

"Oh, pish," she answered, "pish, pish, pish, Simon. That was a strange thing, but you're much more gentle than any ram or bull I've ever watched..."

She'd relaxed her embrace a bit, so I carefully extracted myself and rolled over to lie beside her. "It'll be more than just strange next time, I promise," I said.

"And I will permit you another time," said Jemima. "In any event, that is my maidenhead lost. I hope that you do not mind, Simon, performing such a service for a woman old enough to be your grandmother's grandmother."

Okay, so she'd remembered that...

***

The first time that I spoke to the House was in that same room, on the day that I arrived. Miss Halstead had brought me there, and I was sitting on a stool, staring at the walls -- which were a flat pale brown at the time -- while she looked at me from across the room, with some sympathy by the looks of her expression.

"Good afternoon, Mr Evans," said that bland voice from every direction at once. "I apologise for the way that you were brought here, but the intellects responsible are not very empathetic."

"The intellects?" I asked.

"They are very powerful compared to you or I, and they do not have names in a sense that you would recognise."

Okay, all very spooky-shit. "And you just work for them, then?" I asked.

"Not exactly. They permit me to play a secondary role in their project."

"Sounds like splitting hairs to me. But anyway, where the hell is this?"

"The answer to that question is complicated from your point of view. Please permit me to explain."

"Okay."

"Are you familiar with the concept of wormholes, Mr Evans?"

I blinked. "Wormholes?"

"Yes."

"Well, I've seen some sci-fi stuff on TV. They're supposed to be tunnels through space, right? Jump in, and whoosh, you're on another planet?"

"That was a hypothesis in your time. In fact, they are quite common, but the ends are separated at least as radically in time as in space."

"Okay, I get it -- I thought that you were about to tell me that I'd been abducted by aliens, but actually you're saying I've been grabbed by time travellers." I smirked, still treating this as a joke.

"In a sense, yes. But time travel as you may think of it is actually impossible."

"Hang on -- you just said that wormholes through time are common. Get your story straight!"

"There are millions of wormholes in the solar system at any time, Mr Evans, but in their normal state their diameter is much smaller than that of an atom. In that state, no one and nothing can travel through them."

"Okay, so how am I supposed to have got here?"

"It is possible to expand a wormhole, Mr Evans -- to enlarge it to a more useful diameter. However, the energy required is considerable, and the mathematics is extremely complicated."

" So you can travel through them."

"It is possible to bring energy or objects from the past to the present, under very limiting conditions. It is impossible to move anything from the present to the past. The energy requirements for that would approach infinity."

"Okay, one-way trip. Very clever. So you're claiming that I've been snatched up this way."

"Yes."

"Right, so I'd have to ask -- why me?"

"As I said, the mathematics of wormhole expansion is complicated. However, the larger the diameter, the greater the requirement. More importantly, any transfer changes the past -- subtracting even one atom has an effect. The universe can adjust, but the more significant the effect, the larger the energy requirement to support that adjustment. A small amount of energy or inorganic matter is relatively easy. Living matter often requires much more energy -- it tends to have complicated effects on everything around it. Intelligent beings have the most complicated effects, so the energy requirements rapidly become impossible."

"And yet you're saying that you managed to grab me."

"Yes. You presumably remember that you were about to die, Mr Evans."

"Oh." Right -- a very clever story, this.

"Yes. You must assume that your body would never have been found. The energy requirements imposed by the universe on extracting you, or the eight people who were brought here before you, were manageable, if large."

"How large?"

"As I said, the mathematics are complicated, and the units might not mean much to you. Suffice to say that the task required a significant proportion of this system's energy output over a period of just over four seconds."

"Sorry -- which system?"

"My apologies for being unclear. This solar system."

I laughed. Up until then, I'd been playing along, but now things were getting silly. "And I'm supposed to believe this?" I asked.

"It is factually true."

"And why should I believe this crap, rather than just guessing that you're some crazy practical joker with a big greenhouse?"

"That is a rational question, Mr Evans. Fortunately, it may be possible to present you with sufficient evidence that the true story would be more plausible for you than any alternatives..."

***

"Simon," said Sarah, getting up and walking slowly across the room to the bed, "I think..."

"Yes?"

"I think that I see what is entailed in this thing, and it does not look so very horrid to me. I might wish for you to do the same to me."

"That's very sweet," I said, "but this isn't mandatory, you know. It's not your duty to give yourself to me, just because Augusta and Jemima have."

"No," she said, "but -- it is most strange, but I would feel foolish if I had not at least attempted the thing once. And it did look most curious!" she said the last with a rush, and then looked sheepish.

I should probably have turned her down; a twinge of naïve curiosity, or a wish not to feel left out, or the desire to get the inevitable over with, are doubtless crappy reasons for having sex with someone, and I was surely just taking advantage. But on the other hand, well, I told myself that I could always do my best to make it good for her, and it crossed my mind that if she'd got fucked, she couldn't criticise Augusta or Jemima for the same, and those two would be able to call on her for support if the other women persisted in turning nasty at her.

Meanwhile, Jemima was pulling her dress back on. She grinned quickly at her friend. "Yes," she said, "quite curious."

So I made space on the bed beside me as Sarah approached, and then she turned her back to me and quickly pulled her dress off. Her petite body was worth a look from that direction, but when I did look, I saw that she was shaking visibly.

"Come here," I said gently.

She span around, and then stared at me. "May I -- look at you first?" she asked.

"Surely."

She stared at me, and then reached out a hand, not quite touching me as she traced the line of my chest and hip in the air, staring wide-eyed and breathing deeply.

"Lie down," I said. "I won't bite."

She obeyed, moving carefully, and I touched her, running a careful hand down from her shoulders, over her breast (brushing the nipple carefully on the way), down her stomach to her pussy. There, as I probed her cunt slowly with a fingertip, I realised something.

"Did you find it exciting -- watching me and Jemima?" I asked.

She nodded mutely, staring at me as if hypnotised. I realised that she was perfectly balanced between fear and excitement; there was terror in her eyes, but her cunt was wetly lubricated. If I wasn't careful, or if I didn't do something soon, she might shatter like glass.

So I touched my left bicep and gave it a small squeeze; the House had said that this would trigger some hormones and stuff, and yes, I felt a surge in my groin, and my erection sprang back to full attention. Then I kissed her, first on the mouth, then on each nipple, caressing both with my tongue and feeling them stiffen and swell. She made a small moaning noise in her throat, and I placed myself between her thighs, guided my cock between her cunt lips, and immediately pushed.

She was every bit as tight as Augusta or Jemima had been -- tighter -- but also fully lubricated. She gave a shrill squeak as I took her virginity, and flailed beneath me, grasping at the bed with both hands as her legs twitched. I was getting used to this feeling of having my erection squeezed tight by a virginal young cunt, so I just smiled, raised myself on my hands, and pushed, slowly but deeply, three or four times.




Time Differences Ch. 02



"Lord," murmured Jemima, who was now standing by the bed, watching closely.

Sarah began gasping rapidly, and I wondered if I should pause for a moment to let her recover. But before I could bring myself to do so, her gasps suddenly turned into a groan -- not an orgasm, I thought, just a vast release of tension -- and she grabbed at the flesh on my hips with both hands, digging her nails in hard enough to hurt. The shock tipped me over the edge, and I came into her convulsively, groaning myself.

"Oh," she said, "oh, Simon -- I am sorry..."

"No," I said, carefully lying down on top of her as my erection began to shrink "no problem for me. I just hope that you're okay."

"I am well," she murmured.

"Lord, Sarah," said Jemima, laying herself on the bed beside us, "but you do fuss so. It wasn't so terrible, was it?"

"No," said Sarah, very quietly. "But I hope, Mr Evans..."

"What?"

"Augusta told us," she began, "that you had said -- that these things are tiring for you. I hope that you are not utterly exhausted."

"No," I said, "not for long -- and you were both worth it. In fact, I should confess something to you."

And so, after I'd extracted myself from Sarah, I sat cross-legged on the bed and explained about the special treatment I'd wheedled out of the House to make sure that I was up to what might be needed. By the time I'd finished, the two girls looked stunned -- but also, I was pleased to see, amused.

"And so you may -- service us as we may demand?" said Jemima, at which Sarah did look rather shocked.

"According to the House," I said. There was a pause.

"Simon," said Jemima, looking wonderfully languorous as lay slumped back on the bed beside Sarah.

"Yes?"

"You said -- you implied, earlier, that a man may cover a woman from behind, like a beast."

"Yes, it's possible."

"Could we perhaps -- attempt that?"

I blinked. Perhaps the rustic side of this girl was making her a bit more sexually experimental than I might have expected. "We could," I said, "though it's not always as stimulating for the woman as the other way round."

"Nonetheless -- I would like to do this."

"Any particular reason?"

Suddenly, she looked unhappy. "You have made a beast of me, Simon. To be tupped like a beast seems to be my fate."

Okay, so the farm girl still had a streak of Victorian submissiveness to her -- or maybe she still had problems with shame about looking me in the eye. But what the fuck, maybe she just needed to work this through. "Okay," I said, "I think that I'm ready to go again..."

Tentatively, as Sarah watched in quiet fascination, Jemima raised herself onto hands and knees on the bed, and turned her back to me. I raised her dress a little, then shook my head. "Please," I said, "take that off. I know that houses were cold where you came from, but I really prefer you naked."

She paused for a moment, then sat back to a kneeling position and pulled her dress off again, before going onto hands and knees once more. I smiled. "Nice arse, by the way," I said, and Jemima giggled. Okay, expect the farm girl to know that word if anyone would. I touched my left bicep with my right hand again, and felt the surge through my body -- not that it needed very much, really; having two eighteen-year-old girls taking turns with me was proving a hell of a turn-on in its own right. Still, my cock leapt to straining attention as I placed myself behind Jemima and between her legs. I took it in my right hand and held Jemima's hip with my left.

"There," I said, carefully adjusting our relative positions. "Does that feel right?" I asked, and she replied with a wordless murmur. "Okay," I said, "now..."

I pushed forward, and she gasped quietly -- she was still quite tight -- but then she wriggled, pushing her hips back.

"Tupped like a beast," she said suddenly, "oh lord, tupped like a beast!"

"If that's how you want it," I said. She responded by wriggling her hips and whimpering a little. I caressed those hips while rotating my own, driving deeper into her.

Then I became aware of Sarah, who was still naked and now lying alongside Jemima, running a gentle hand along her back. "Oh, my sweet Jemima," she said, "you are the loveliest beast I have ever seen -- and Mr Evans is surely the finest beast in all this world." Then she moved her head forward and kissed Jemima on the cheek.

But Jemima just moaned at that. "Oh, damn your love-talk, child!" she snapped, and Sarah gasped and pulled back; those were strong words, I gathered. "Tup me harder, Evans!" Jemima went on, "Tup me harder!"

I had the feeling that I'd just been addressed like a farm-boy who was doing some odd job in the stables for her. On the other hand, she was grinding a trim young arse and a snug, warm cunt against me, and my cock was happy with the situation, so I decided just to do what she said, thrusting as hard and fast as I could while she wriggled and groaned and Sarah sat back and watched with a stunned expression. Jemima pushed back, but I was heavier and stronger, and I found that I'd soon pushed her a little way up the bed, and I was increasingly leaning over her. However, the effects of having my cock deep in a cunt, and now of her buttocks pressing against me, were suddenly too much, despite whatever the House had done to me, and I came with a loud groan, pouring myself into her, then slumped back on my heels. This pulled me partly out of her, and she reacted by pulling herself off the rest of the way, slumping forward to lie face down on the bed for a moment as her cunt left a trail of my semen across my thighs and the bed. But almost instantly, she rolled onto her left side, partly curled up. With her eyes shut, she pushed her right hand into her own crotch, and began rubbing furiously.

"Lord have mercy!" said Sarah, "Has she gone mad?"

"Only temporarily," I said, slumping back to a more comfortable sitting position. Then Jemima clenched herself around her hand, and groaned orgasmically. That done, she relaxed slowly, and her eyes opened.

"Are you unwell, sweet Jemima?" Sarah asked her.

"I am well," Jemima answered. "Oh, you poor sweet goose, Sarah! 'Twas just tupping, but oh, didn't Augusta speak the truth -- there is joy in it!" She grinned. "And have you never dreamed of being as carefree as the beasts?"

***

"If you leave this room, turn left, and go ten metres down the hall, you will come to a door on your left," the House said. "Enter there."

"Should I accompany Mr Evans?" Miss Halstead asked.

"If you wish," the House said evenly, and she evidently decided that she should. I still didn't believe much about what was going on, but I didn't see any point in arguing until I had a better idea about this huge, crazy joke, so I followed the House's directions. This took me to another small room, with a domed ceiling and what looked like big picture windows, except that they were facing onto blank walls.

"Now what?" I asked. The House said nothing, but I felt the floor beneath me sinking, as if we were in a lift -- heck, the room evidently was a lift; the blank walls turned into a moving tunnel. Miss Halstead looked even more surprised than I felt, even panicky.

I began to ask her if she knew what was going on. But before I could get a sentence out, the world flew away above our heads.

***

"What Simon did to me felt -- strangely comforting," Sarah said carefully, "but to be like a beast... That is not what I want."

"So what do you want?" I asked. She bit her lip at the question.

"Augusta spoke of bathing with you," she said eventually.

Right -- so along with my randy farm lass, I had one girl who wanted to feel clean about getting laid. "No problem," I said, and led Sarah through to the bathroom, where I closed the door and called for a 360-degree shower once again. She shivered for a second, although the water was pleasantly warm, and then looked at me.

"Just -- stand there for a moment, please, Simon," she said, and I shrugged and obeyed. She walked slowly around me, and I had the feeling that I was being inspected from all angles. Then she paused. "Please, House," she said, "make all these walls into mirrors."

The House obeyed, and she laughed giddily as we were suddenly surrounded by an infinite series of naked startled-looking men and slim, girlish, naked women, both soaked and dripping.

Sarah paused in her walk. "You know," she said, "I always took an interest in the great works of art. My parents quite encouraged me in this, although they tried to be careful as to which volumes of prints I read from Papa's library."

"I'm no work of art," I said.

"No? But you resemble some sculptures and paintings which I was told not to consider..."

"I'm a nude man," I said, "there are some standard features..."

She smiled nervously. "Those are the features which I was told not to examine," she said, and continued walking round me.

"But I'm not a statue," I said, "I've got fully working parts." I grabbed her and hugged her as she went past, and she squealed in surprise and excitement.

"Come on," I said, "we probably ought to get clean."

I found the soap-substitute, and gently washed her down, caressing her breasts and buttocks in the process, and then her pussy. She tensed again when I touched her there, but relaxed after a moment. When I was done, she asked to return the favour, and although she spent a long time on my chest and back, she eventually progressed below the waist. I gave her time to gather her courage, and sure enough, she eventually began soaping my cock and balls, and then looked me in the eye and grinned sheepishly when my cock began to swell again.

"I still find it difficult to believe that I can accommodate that," she said, then looked back down.

"You like to look at things, don't you?" I asked. "You like to watch." She nodded slightly.

I turned fully around, letting the shower wash the last of the suds from my body, then said "shower off, warm air," and the House obeyed. I grabbed two towels from their water-tight locker, and gave one to Sarah before I started drying her down. She took the hint and returned the favour.

"Come on," I said, "there's something else for you to watch."

I led her back to the bedroom, where Jemima was still lying sprawled on the bed, still naked.

"Excuse me," I said, and got her to move to one side while I lay flat. My cock was still swollen, and grew hard as I just looked at Sarah while feeling Jemima brushing against my side.

"Come here," I said to Sarah. "Now, kneel over me -- one knee on either side of my legs. That's it. Now, lift yourself up and move a bit further up..."

She got the idea, but still gasped as I took my cock in hand and placed its tip at the entrance to her cunt. "Look at it," I said to her. "See it? Now lower yourself onto it."

After a moment, she obeyed, and groaned softly as my erection filled her again. "Right," I said, "feel free to rest your hands on my chest -- I can take your weight. But now, you can watch me while I fuck you."

"While you -- what was that word?" she asked. Jemima next to me sniggered; I assumed that either she'd heard things on the farm that she wasn't meant to, or she'd made a very easy guess.

"It's a very rude word for what we're doing," I said. "don't repeat it in public, or I'm sure that Miss Halstead will spank your bottom."

Sarah pulled an unhappy face, and I guessed that this was a more plausible prospect than I liked to think. I tried to distract her by rolling my hips, pushing deeper into her, but she looked thoughtful for a moment.

"And do I ... fuck ... properly, Simon?" she asked.

"Goose!" said Jemima with a giggle before I could think what to say. "No young lady can do that properly. But Mr Evans appears to enjoy your impropriety."

"Uh, yeah," I said, and reached up with both hands to cup Sarah's breasts. "They're lovely," I said, "wonderful nipples," I added, running my thumbs over those.

"Truly?" Sarah asked. "I thought them -- flawed."

"Smaller than some, but very sweet," I said, pushing slowly up into her.

"No, not my breasts -- the, ah..."

"Your nipples? They're magnificent."

"I thought them terribly large and dark."

"You... Oh." I smiled at her. "You've been looking at too many old paintings," I said. "Painters more or less leave those parts out. I guess it's more respectable. But large and dark is how they're supposed to be. And bloody sexy, too."

"Oh!" She smiled back. "Thank you!"

"House," I said, "make every wall here into a mirror -- and the ceiling."

Sarah and Jemima both gasped, and I winked at Sarah. "Feel free to watch carefully," I said, "and believe me, every part of you is worth looking at from where I'm lying."

She giggled, and I continued to move, pushing up into her until she began to breathe audibly in time with my thrusts. Then I raised myself up and began to kiss and tongue her nipples; the deep breathing continued, although I was no longer pushing into her, and she ground her crotch into mine while wrapping her arms around my head.

Eventually, I broke off my attention to her nipples, and lay back again, once more placing my hands on her breasts. "Now..." I said, but then I realised that she wasn't paying much attention to me. She was gazing, wide-eyed, at the mirrored wall at the head of the bed; in other words, she was staring at herself, naked, her breasts clasped in male hands, her thighs around a man's hips, her own hips moving back and forth, back and forth. I responded with movement of my own, but she seemed intent on the mirror as a series of moans built up in her throat. It was clear to me -- and doubtless to Jemima -- where Sarah was going, but she seemed almost lost, stunned by the thrills that she was getting from her pussy and breasts -- and from the sight of herself. The moans grew louder, sharper, and more frequent, until her whole body seemed to pulse on top of me and around my cock, and she squealed and then relaxed.

"Heavens above," said Jemima, who was leaning on her elbow beside me, "I never knew that you had this in you, young Sarah." But Sarah didn't pay her any attention; it was clear she wasn't finished yet. She gazed down at me, shifting slightly to get a view of the point where our bodies were joined. She looked more startled than ever, and more focussed; after a moment, she closed her eyes, screwing them up tight as she began to drive her hips into a frenzy. I guessed what might be needed, and released one of her breasts to move my hand down to her pussy, placing my thumb to ensure that her clitoris was being stimulated. That earned another series of gasps, and when I moved my hand and hips slightly, those gasps rose to a crescendo, before she went quite limp. I wondered if she'd fainted, but when I grabbed her body with both hands to support her, she opened her eyes and gave me a faint smile.

Meanwhile, this flattering display had sent signals pulsing to my own groin, and I pushed up hard into her once, twice, three times, lifting her up from the bed, before I gave a groan of my own and felt myself pulsing into her. She focussed a little more, and to judge by her slightly puzzled smile, she felt my ejaculation as it happened.

"Oh," she gasped, "oh, but this is strange -- strange and wonderful!"

***

For a very few seconds, Miss Halstead and I were falling away into darkness, and my stomach was in revolt, and I knew that this was more than just a mental hospital. Then, as we fell away from our starting point, the darkness was relived by an arrays of lights, and I almost threw up. But before that could happen, I felt as though our fall was being gently slowed, and we both landed, more or less gently, on the floor of the room.

No, not a room -- a vehicle. Looking around, I forced myself to accept the reality of the situation; we were in space, which meant that we'd been in free fall for a moment -- and if I understood how these things worked, the thing we were travelling in had now begun accelerating, giving the sensation of weight. Come to think of it, I felt oddly light; evidently, we weren't now getting the equivalent of full Earth gravity.

I took a deep breath and looked around. Miss Halstead was curled up on the floor, moaning softly; she was taking all this worse than me. But anyway; outside the craft we were in, the glittering shapes I'd seen in the rich blue sky when I first arrived were now visible in sharp relief -- a mass of objects (Satellites? Stations? Spacecraft?) in most but not all directions. But that seemed crazy; wasn't space supposed to be mostly empty?

Anyhow... The craft was moving, looping around the thing from which we'd fallen, and suddenly I got a better view and my brain adjusted. It was a giant ring shape, rotating gently against the background of stars and objects. (Oh yeah, you spin things for the feeling of gravity, don't you?) The outer edge of the ring was opaque, even dark, but the inner surface seemed transparent...

Okay, that was the sky of the world where I'd just been. And fuck, the thing was huge...

I sat down on the floor next to Miss Halstead, who looked at me with terrified eyes. "Okay," I said to the walls, "I'm convinced. I dunno if I've been kidnapped in time or by aliens or what, but this isn't just a joke, is it?"

"No," said the House. "I can explain further if you will permit me..."

***

As I got my breath back, Sarah gently raised herself off me, and then lay down and pressed against me, on the other side to Jemima. "My," she said, "but is this ... this kind of love-making always like this?"

"Quite often," I said, "although you two seem to be taking to it very well."

They both giggled, and then we all fell silent for a while. Then, businesslike again, Jemima lifted herself off the bed and once more gathered up her dress.

"You don't have to go," I said.

She paused, and looked back towards Sarah and myself. "Would you like me to stay all the night?" she asked.

"I'd like both of you to stay," I said. "I think we all need the comfort, after all."

Jemima smiled uncertainly, put her dress aside, and lay back down beside me. For a moment, we were all silent, and then we all realised that we were all looking up at the mirrored ceiling, where we could see ourselves, side by side and nude. So we all laughed at once.

"Is it like art, Sarah?" Jemima asked.

"It's a fine enough picture for me," Sarah replied, before rolling onto her side to nuzzle up against me.

Strangely enough, I slept better that night than I ever had since I'd arrived in the future. The next morning, though, the two girls were up and about before me. I'd had hopes of more fun then, but they both turned very businesslike and slightly distant on me. I guessed that they were still deciding what to think about themselves now, so I didn't say much. We went to breakfast together, though, and found Augusta and Clarissa both already there -- sitting at opposite ends of the dining room. Both gave us opaque looks as we came through the door, but when we joined Augusta, her gaze turned into a nervous smile.

Jemima leaned over to her before sitting down, and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Oh, my sweet dear," she murmured, "we three are sisters now..."

It turned out that the House wanted to talk to the girls that morning -- it had its own ideas about how to find out about our times from us, or perhaps about human nature, which I realised that I'd never understand -- and so I was left at something of a loose end. I felt, frankly, too used up to look for more exercise, and so I went for a walk outside the house. I contemplated walking as far as the menagerie it had created some way round the ring of this miniature world, but I was intercepted first.   "May I speak with you?" Georgiana asked, walking up to me with an air of twitchy nervousness. She was another brunette, slim to the point of being skinny; she didn't seem to talk much, except in occasional rushes; I got the impression that she was almost as stressed by our situation as Clarissa, but wasn't going quite so wildly crazy.




Time Differences Ch. 02



"Of course," I said, "let's walk." She fell into company with me, then after a dozen paces, she looked at me and took a deep breath.

"I know what Augusta and Sarah and Jemima have done with you," she began, then paused.

I shrugged. "I hope that you don't disapprove too much," I said.

"I do not know what I think, Mr Evans," she replied. "Once, they would have been shamed and cut off forever from polite company. But where is polite company here? It seems that what they have done is become the way of things."

"There's no society to crush them, no. They've chosen to adapt."

"If you say so. But I wanted to say ... I do not share their impulse, Mr Evans. If you feel an entitlement toward me..."

"Good grief," I said. "No, I don't feel entitled to have you as well. Why do all you well-brought-up girls think that I'm some kind of woman-eating monster? Frankly, if I need comfort or sex, I've got three sweet girls who've offered freely -- I'm not going to jump you to complete the set."

For a split second, she looked stunned, but then she relaxed visibly, and squeezed out an odd giggle. "Thank you, Mr Evans. I confess that I have no understanding of all these matters... I hope that you can forgive me."

"Of course," I said.

There was a pause, then she carried on speaking, apparently feeling unable to leave things there. "I do hope that you are not insulted," she said, "but, well, when Augusta described what she had done with you -- I felt no interest..."

"Not a problem," I said. "Some people just have less interest in these things than others."

She laughed uncertainly. "The foolish thing is, Mr Evans, that I was once considered the most ... silly in our class. The most given to daydreams and reading novels. I even had a sweetheart, although we had never kissed..."

I looked at her. "That's not really the same as what the other three have done with me," I said. "Tastes differ, in all sorts of ways."

"And yet, I do not wish to be thought cold, Mr Evans. I find that I am simply... uninterested."

I stopped walking, turned, and patted her on the shoulder. "You can make up your mind in your own time what you might like," I said. "And don't let any of the others bully you -- not either way. Augusta persuaded the other two to try what she'd enjoyed, but I hope that she didn't make them do anything -- and I hope that Clarissa won't make anyone feel that what they're doing is wrong, either."

Georgiana took a deep breath, then carried on walking. "Now you sound like the sort of novel of which my mother would have thoroughly disapproved, Mr Evans. But thank you again. I will think on these matters."

"Just don't worry yourself about them," I said, "we've got enough else to deal with here."

I left her pacing around and about the building. Whatever she wanted or needed, she'd have to work out her own way there for now -- though I made a mental note to suggest to the other girls that they talk to her a bit, and not about sex unless she asked about it.

Meanwhile, I did head up towards the menagerie. I needed to forget the weird situation for a while, and get away from those seven confused and worried women -- however much I'd enjoyed helping some of them resolve some of their confusions.

But the confusions would catch up with me in full force, later that day.



Time Differences Ch. 03



Part 3: The Sins of Miss Jane Halstead

The House's menagerie was a strange collection – part austere scientific collection, part carefully designed wildlife park and aquarium beyond the dreams of my era. Unfortunately, the assortment of animals that had been brought through the wormholes was small and rather random, and the House was still learning how to look after them, so a lot of the specimens were held in a sedated state while it worked out what to do.

I wasn't sure that the House didn't see us eight humans the same way... But anyhow, the dodos still boggled my mind, even if I had to admit to myself that they were especially stupid and irritating birds.

I spent a chunk of the day there, wondering about this stuff.





Time Differences Ch. 03



She sighed. "So this is sin," she muttered, but the tone of her voice was more reflective than angry.

"People wouldn't do it if it wasn't fun," I said.

"Any girl knows that men find pleasure in such things," she said. "But I... Oh, damn you, Simon! I am indeed depraved!"

I didn't say anything, but just kept thrusting, and she soon stopped talking and started sighing again, deeper and deeper. As her mad glare was replaced by a detached look – and I guessed she started concentrating on the signals coming from her pussy – I placed a couple of soft kisses on her face, and she didn't object. Eventually, her sighing culminated in a great gasp, and she relaxed. So then I let my own impulses take over, increasing the strength and speed of my fucking a little until I reached another release of my own. Then I relaxed on top of her for a moment, and she made a soft noise in her throat that might have been mistaken for happiness, or at least satisfaction.

I lifted myself off her and then lay beside her, only wincing a little at the stinging of my back.

"I will never forgive you, Mr Evans," she said, apparently talking to the ceiling.

"Oh, come on, I wasn't that bad..."

"You have not only led me into sin, you have made it impossible for me to even imagine returning to virtue..."

"Okay, good, it definitely wasn't that bad."

"...I am completely lost." She looked at me for just long enough to throw me a deadly glare. "When we first talked of these matters, I was merely puzzled. Then, after Augusta returned from your room, I avoided her, thinking that she was insane. But then, after you ravished Jemima..."

"I didn't, you know."

"...She came back from this room smiling and dancing. Dancing, Mr Evans. And believe me, Jemima dances very badly."

"I'm afraid that I do believe that." Jemima had a lot going for her, just starting with her newly discovered taste for a good fuck, but graceful wasn't the word.

"And that made me terribly, horribly curious, Mr Evans. Which enabled you to corrupt me."

"Blimey," I said, "talk about bottled up."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you know, along with the best tits, I really believe that you have the most passion of the six of you? It's just a shame that it comes out as anger. But heck, anger with orgasms, so it's not all bad."

She threw herself off the bed and gathered up her dress. "I do not have to remain here and listen to you insult me!" she said.

"No, sure. You don't. You'll be back for more later, though?" I allowed myself a filthy smirk.

"You are a vile, vile villain!" she told me, but I noticed that she didn't bother contradicting what I'd said.





Time Differences Ch. 04



Part 4: Questions and Illustrations 

Augusta gasped, and we both twisted to see who was speaking.

Sarah had slipped up close to us while we were preoccupied with our fucking, and was sitting on the meadow, staring hard at us -- which presumably meant at my legs and balls and Augusta's back and arse. She was smiling faintly, with her hands neatly folded in her lap.

"Sarah!" said Augusta, hastily clambering off me, "Are you spying?"

"Hardly, sweet Augusta," Sarah answered. "I made a pleasant stroll in the meadows, and stumbled upon this scene."

"She has a point," I said to Augusta. "We are right out in the open here."

"She did not continue upon her way," Augusta snapped.

"I'm afraid that little Sarah here likes to watch," I told her. "I mean, she likes doing the thing too. But she really only jumped me after she'd watched Jemima and me at it for a while. And she loves mirrors."

"Mr Evans!" Sarah gasped. "A gentleman should not say such things of a lady!"

"Well, a lady might have walked on by rather than stopping to watch her friends screwing -- um, tupping, as Jemima would say."

She held her annoyed look for a second, then cracked and giggled. "I fear that you are correct," she said. "I do enjoy too much to watch."

Meanwhile, Augusta had gathered up her robe and was holding it in a fetchingly modest but barely effective way in front of herself as she sat beside me, and she threw mine over my lap and my deflating cock. "We shall be more careful of you in future," she said.

"Forgive me, Augusta, Simon," Sarah said. She scurried over to us, and knelt in front of us. "All this is so new to me -- what is modest and what is not when we are giving ourselves so?" She leant over and kissed me on the cheek. Then she turned to Augusta and repeated the gesture to her, and Augusta smiled briefly.

Then Sarah leant forward again and kissed Augusta on the lips, staying in contact for several seconds. When she leaned back again, I noticed that both of them were looking puzzled. It was certainly an odd gesture; the six girls had been prone to affectionate but brief mutual kisses among themselves for as long as I'd known them, but this was downright sensuous.

"Forgive me," Sarah said again, breaking the brief awkward silence. "I was simply curious."

"I think that such things would be better directed to Simon," Augusta said. "Such passion passes best between a man and a woman."

"Does it?" Sarah replied.

"Hey," I said, "what's this all about?"

"I have been talking to the House, I should admit," Sarah said, "and this led me to some puzzling things."

"Oh," I said to Augusta. "I probably should have warned you all. The House is trying to understand human sex. It may be asking some weird and impertinent questions."

"Questions which lead to more questions, and to ... other strangeness," Sarah said.

"What do you mean?" I asked her.

"I perhaps should best show you," Sarah said, "back at the House."

Augusta and I shrugged at each other, pulled our robes back on, and followed her. She walked purposefully back to the House, and then to her room, where we all sat down on the stools scattered round the place.

"When the House asked me about ... relations between men and women," Sarah began, "I did my best to explain to it what I knew. But it soon became evident that some of its questions implied possibilities of which I was ignorant. For example, it asked of relations between men and men, or women and women."

"Oh," said Augusta. "I have heard whispers of such things, but..." she faded into confusion.

"I too confessed ignorance," said Sarah. "Indeed, I told the House that it might be able to tell me more than I could explain to it."

And I'll bet you sounded a little bit keen about the idea, I thought. Then it struck me that, if I was right, the House might have understood more about Sarah than she realised. It wasn't human, but it seemed to have a lot more grasp of nuance and human motivation than I for one had originally thought.

"This led the House and I to talk somewhat, about ignorance and knowledge," Sarah went on. "In due course, it explained that it preserves pictures of events to which it does not pay actual attention..."

"Oh yeah," I said, "I should warn you all about that, too. The House has cameras... It can get pictures even where it honestly ignores things with its conscious mind."

"So I now understand," Sarah said, as Augusta frowned, looking worried as the implications of what she was hearing sank in. "And so -- I asked if it had pictures of things that might resolve my ignorance."

Oh, did you. Little Sarah was getting a bit too clever with her voyeuristic impulses, it seemed to me.

"What did it show you?" Augusta asked carefully.

"House," said Sarah, "pray show me the scene from Miss Halstead's chamber that you produced for me earlier..."

In response, one wall of Sarah's room instantly became a screen, and once again, I was watching a view of Miss Halstead's room, with its dark-toned walls. I guessed that this was a little while after I'd last seen Miss Halstead; she was lying on the bed, still looking stunned and quiet but a lot more sane than when I'd last seen her. Georgiana was there too, bustling around, fetching her a beaker of water. She sat beside Miss Halstead as the older woman drank, and stroked her brow. "Come," she said, "you have lain here long enough. You might be refreshed if you bathed, perhaps."

Miss Halstead rose to her feet obediently if lethargically, and Georgiana led her to the bathroom -- so the viewpoint shifted there -- and helped her to remove her dress, revealing again that she had a more than passable body. Then Georgiana frowned for a moment before removing her own dress, revealing a younger, maybe skinny but maybe also athletic figure.

"House," she said, "a warm spray, if you would."

When the House obeyed, Georgiana quickly and efficiently helped Miss Halstead to wash, then told the House to stop the shower and found some towels. The two of them returned to the bedroom, now wrapped in towels, and the viewpoint shifted back.

At Georgiana's direction, Miss Halstead stood stock still and Georgiana unwrapped her and began drying her down. The older woman seemed inert throughout this, even when Georgiana carefully rubbed her breasts dry, but then Georgiana moved below her waist. After the briefest of pauses for thought, Georgiana began delicately to pat Miss Halstead's pubic bush dry with an edge of the towel. Miss Halstead's own hand shot out and grabbed Georgiana's, and Georgiana gasped, then lowered her eyes.

"I apologise..." she began, but Miss Halstead seemed to loosen her grip slightly and then moved Georgiana's hand, so that for a moment she was no longer patting but rubbing the towel against her crotch. Then she released her hold.

Georgiana rose to her feet, still looking submissive, and Miss Halstead grasped her by the shoulders and spoke for the first time. "Georgiana..." she said.

"Miss Halstead," said the girl.

"Ah, Georgiana. The only one who is faithful to me, I think."

"Miss Halstead?" Georgiana met her gaze.

Miss Halstead released her grip and visibly relaxed. "I am sorry, Georgiana," she said. "I do appreciate how much you have done for me. I think ... I think that I am feeling a little better now."

"Good," said Georgiana. "Perhaps you should rest a little more?"

Miss Halstead took the suggestion and lay down on the bed; Georgiana, still wrapped in her towel, lay beside her. Then Georgiana propped herself up on her elbow and kissed Miss Halstead on the cheek, just once and tentatively at first, then a second and third time as the older woman raised now objection. After the third kiss, Miss Halstead even smiled faintly.

Neither of them said anything, but Georgiana gently caressed Miss Halstead's face and smiled back at her. Then, suddenly, impulsively, she placed more light kisses on Miss Halstead's shoulders and throat. Miss Halstead touched her lightly on the back as she moved cautiously downwards, eventually coming to the older woman's breasts, where she paused for a moment, then began to nuzzle softly at her nipples.

By now, the towel wrapped around Georgiana was becoming disarrayed, and she eased it aside. She continued with the kisses for a moment, then seemingly realised what she was doing and paused, looking up at Miss Halstead's face. But Miss Halstead smiled slightly at her. Georgiana moved back up, and the two women kissed mouth to mouth, cautiously at first, then passionately.

When they broke apart after a few moments, they stared nervously at each other. It was Miss Halstead who made the next move, her hand moving tentatively to Georgiana's pussy. Georgiana sighed and lay back, seeming to go limp, and Miss Halstead paused, but then Georgiana grabbed her hand and just held it in place. After a second, Miss Halstead began to move just her fingertips, carefully stimulating Georgiana's clitoris.

Georgiana accelerated to orgasm with extraordinary speed; I guess this was the stuff of her wildest fantasies, even if she didn't know it herself. She moaned and writhed, her eyes tight shut and her skin flushed pink; then, with one last great sigh, she went limp. When she opened her eyes after a moment, it was to see Miss Halstead looking at her with a blank, expressionless face. But Georgiana twitched a small smile, and returned to kissing Miss Halstead's nipples, and Miss Halstead sighed softly, once at that and a second time when Georgiana's hand strayed cautiously to her pussy.

"Is this right?" Georgiana asked, but Miss Halstead said nothing; her eyes were screwed tight shut and she was lying in a hunched posture, her chin pressed down to her throat. But when Georgiana stopped, nervously, Miss Halstead gave a wordless cry and grabbed Georgiana's hand with both of her own, actually forcing two of Georgiana's fingers into her cunt. Georgiana gasped and wriggled against her, and Miss Halstead moaned softly. They both froze for a moment, and then Georgiana set to work, stimulating Miss Halstead more methodically.

It took Miss Halstead a couple of minutes to reach orgasm, and as the recording played, I glanced at Augusta and Sarah out of the corners of my eyes -- but they were both watching the screen, fascinated and bemused. When I looked back, it was just in time to see Miss Halstead arch her body on the bed and give a sharp cry of pleasure, before going completely limp. Georgiana took her hand away from Miss Halstead's cunt and the pair of them embraced, kissing each other hard on the lips with their eyes closed, before lying silently in each other's arms.

"And thus they remained for as long as I cared to watch," Sarah commented, "although that was just a few minutes. House, you may end this display now."

Augusta looked from the blank wall-screen to Sarah, and then back to the screen, and then to Sarah again. Then she embraced Sarah, and kissed her full on the lips. For a moment, I thought that there was some serious passion there, but then the two girls broke apart and cracked up into slightly nervous giggles.

"Oh, my dear Sarah," said Augusta, "it would seem that your spying has revealed more about the righteous Miss Halstead than we would ever have dreamed."

"And more about dear Georgiana..." Sarah agreed.

"Hey, you two," I said, "be careful with all this. We all have to live together, like it or not. Just because Sarah managed to talk the House into letting her spy on other people, doesn't mean you ought to boast about it. Things could get very nasty if you're not careful..."

"I fear that you may be correct, Simon," said Augusta, doing her best to look serious. "Have no fear, we will say nothing..."

"Unless Miss Halstead should seek to punish us for vile practices," Sarah added.

"Yeah, well," I said, "I get it -- this is the kind of thing she'd have beaten girls for, back in the old days."

"Oh, she did," Augusta said. I blinked, and she stared at me. "Please do not think us complete innocents in those times, Simon. On cold nights, girls would share beds often enough, and occasionally, some would share caresses. But when some poor fool was found by Miss Halstead, her response was always -- quite vile."

"So she was a bitch," I said, and the two girls gasped. "Well, that's over. Better let her be. She's harmless now."

"Oh, Simon, do not think that you can act as a father to us, when you have taken the part of a ... sweetheart," said Augusta, with a scowl. "But do not take us for fools either. We will leave Miss Halstead and Georgiana to their small games."

"Yes," Sarah agreed, "and Elspeth too."

"What?" I said.

"Oh, so your spying did not end there?" said Augusta, staring at the other girl.

"No," said Sarah. "I fear that I have been quite wicked -- but I will complete my confession now." She turned back towards the wall. "House," she said, "pray show the scene I observed involving Elspeth."

The wall changed again, to show a plain room, with Mr Frake the sailor lying on the bed with a blank expression, and Elspeth sitting on a stool next to him, looking at him with a caring expression. Elspeth had been acting as a nursemaid to Frake since before I arrived, I'd gathered, and there were a couple of food bowls lying around the place, suggesting that she'd attended to him when he hadn't got out of the room.

She was talking, and her words confirmed that impression. "Please, Mr Frake," she said, you should get up and walk about a little more. This is not an unpleasant place."

"Ah, no, it cannot be," said Frake, "for it surely be Heaven..."

"It is no such..." Elspeth began, but Frake wasn't listening much.

"If this be Heaven," he said, "then the girls must've become angels. You do look like angels, and you are kind as angels, for surely."

"No, Mr Frake," said Elspeth sadly, "we are no angels, and this is not Heaven."

"Oh, but don't say that," said Frake sadly, "for if this is not Heaven, then it must be -- the other place, and you must've fallen to become devils -- or you are devils pretending to be those poor girls who were drowned through my folly. And yet -- you've not been cruel, as devils must be."

"You know, I did wonder," Elspeth said, "for quite some time, you know, if Georgiana was correct, and if we were being taunted by some devil. But that won't do, will it, Mr Frake? This isn't Heaven or the other place, not if the church has anything right on the subject. I'm afraid that the House is telling the truth."

"What's it say, then?" Frake asked, looking at her with more focus than I'd seen him manage before.

"That this is simply -- another world, to which we were snatched when we were about to die, because taking us or leaving us be could no longer matter."

"Oh, but don't say that!" Frake said mournfully. "You say that, but I think about it, and I'll never see my Jenny again, or my little ones, or my old father..."

"I am terribly sorry," said Elspeth, "but I fear that is the case."

Poor Frake crumpled at that, weeping like a child, and then Elspeth gathered him in her arms. I thought for a moment that she was crying too, but then I realised that she must be made of sterner stuff -- or crazier. She was almost expressionless.

"You are an angel!" Frake insisted.

"No, Mr Frake. What can I say to convince you?"

He shook his head, and she stared at him. "I am not an angel," she repeated. "Angels are creatures of spirit, and I am flesh and blood." She took a deep breath. "Look," she said, and bending down, she pulled her dress off and stood naked in front of Frake.

Watching on the screen, I gasped at the gesture, and frankly admired Elspeth's body. She was the darkest of the six girls -- one of the others had once mumbled something, out of her earshot, about her being "swarthy" -- but to me, she looked fetchingly tanned and raven-haired -- especially when she reached up and unfastened and shook out her plait.

"We are not angels." she repeated.

"You are a demon!" Frake moaned. "What is it that you want from me?"

"I have recently been told of things," Elspeth said, "and I think I may know that now."

Frake stared at her uncomprehendingly, but she simply looked back at him, and then lay down beside him, nursing his head against her pert breasts. "Angels are pure," she murmured to him, "but we can seek impure and earthly comforts."

Frake looked even more startled than I felt, but he pressed his lips to one of her nipples in a gesture that was half a kiss and half a child seeking to nurse. Elspeth stroked his disarrayed hair, and then took his face between her hands and kissed his brow. Then she wriggled down the bed a little so that she was face to face with him, and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Oh, Mr Frake," she said, "may we not take comfort together?"

Good grief, I thought, all this time we all thought that she was a saintly little thing looking after the poor old crazy guy, and all along, she was just desperate for a father figure. Oh well -- if it helped both her and Frake adjust to their situation, it'd be for the best. By the looks of him, Frake was still utterly puzzled, but he returned her kiss and then held her hard against him. She gasped, and I wondered if he was crushing her too much, but he let her roll back from him a little way, and then her hand moved down to touch his robe over his crotch. It was hard to make out, even on the big, perfect viewing screen that the wall had become, but I was pretty sure that the garment was rising in a tent there. Anyway, I didn't have to wait long for confirmation; nervously and uncertainly, Frake and Elspeth cooperated to pull Frake's gown up to his waist, revealing a full erection.

Elspeth stared at it for a long moment and gasped, then lay back with her eyes closed and her legs slightly apart. But Frake's instincts had taken over by now, and he clambered between her thighs, pushing them further apart, took his cock in hand, and put its tip at the entrance to her cunt. Then he entered her with a single muscular thrust. She gave a moan of what sounded like mingled pain and relief, and wrapped her legs round his as he began to rock against her. He was grunting wordlessly; listening hard, I heard her murmuring his name much more quietly...

"Enough," I said, "House, stop showing this." The wall went blank again.

Sarah looked at me with a mixture of petulance and nervousness. "Have I been too impertinent?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "but I guess you're still getting the hang of things, now your old rules are gone. It is good to know that Elspeth and Frake are managing to find something together, and I'll suggest that you two find some way to explain to her a bit more about what's possible, so that she gets something more from it than soreness and a feeling of doing him a favour. But let's leave things there for now, shall we?"

"So you make rules now, do you, Simon?" Augusta asked. "Then what punishments do you propose should we offend you?"

"Oh, hell," I said, "I'm no good at rules. I just try to avoid offending people. But if Sarah carries on like this, I'll have to see what pictures I can get out of the House showing her, and maybe put put them on everyone's walls."

"Ah," said Sarah.

"Oh," said Augusta, "and what has Sarah done that would bring her more shame than she can bring the rest of us?"

"I dunno," I said, "but I'd have to see what I could find."

"And could I not shame you in return?" Sarah asked.

"You could try," I said, "but I don't recommend getting competitive. I'm still older and nastier than you."

"Oh," squealed Sarah, "I find that quite shamefully interesting."

"Sarah," Augusta said, "you are becoming terrible."

"I wonder how terrible," I said, succumbing to a temptation. I got up, walked over to Sarah, and kissed her on the mouth. "After all, you don't just like to watch, do you?"




Time Differences Ch. 04



Sarah looked down at the floor. "You have known me, Simon," she said, "so you know better than that."

"I guess," I said, "but I think we could both use reminding. Stand up."

She obeyed, and I kissed her again, then broke the embrace. "Now take your gown off," I said, and her reflex obedience cut in again. I stared happily at her naked body. "House," I said, "don't pay any attention to us from now on, but record every moment of this. Tag the recording, oh, Sarah Having Fun, okay?"

"Noted," said the House.

I took my own gown off. "Now," I said to Sarah, "you're so terribly curious, so I suggest that you inspect every inch of my body. But everything you look at, you have to kiss -- okay?"

"Oh, my!" said Augusta. Sarah gave a very small gasp, but I noticed that she made no protest. Instead, she stepped closer to me, and began to examine my chest in close detail. Eventually, obediently, she gave it a couple of quick kisses, and then shifted her gaze down to my stomach, where she repeated the process. Then, she stepped around me, and I realised she was examining my back. I felt her kiss me there, too, and the intermittent kisses travelled downwards, even taking in my buttocks very briefly, and then progressing to my thighs. Meanwhile, Augusta was watching with an obvious mixture of surprise, amazement, and a lot of amusement.

Then there was a momentary pause, and Sarah stepped round in front of me again. For a moment she stood, her eyes meeting mine, her hands gently resting on my chest; then she knelt down in front of me, and simply gazed at my cock for some long moments. Meanwhile, I touched my left arm as casually as I could manage with my right hand, triggering the House's treatment, and I felt the hormonal surge to my crotch. Sarah gasped as my erection began to rise in front of her.

"Should I ... kiss that, too?" she asked softly.

"Actually, I'd like you to," I said.

Carefully, tentatively, she obeyed, kissing the shaft and base of my cock. Then she paused, and I looked down to see her staring at the tip. Then she leaned forward to kiss that, and a thrill ran through my body. My erection twitched reflexively, and Sarah leaned back with a small gasp.

"You have other lips to kiss it with," I said.

She looked at me with a puzzled expression for a moment, but then Augusta giggled, and that gave Sarah enough of a hint. She scrambled onto her feet, stepped over to the bed, and lay flat on it with her legs apart. She was looking deadly serious, but then suddenly she cracked a huge smile.

"Simon..." she said.

I stepped over to the bed and knelt on it, between her thighs. She sat up slightly and grabbed my cock, guiding it to her; as she seemed so eager, I pushed straight away. She gasped, but I felt a smooth warm moistness as I slid into her; she was ready and eager. I paused, then rotated my hips slowly, and she made another noise that was both a moan and a sigh. I smiled down at her, and she smiled back at me, albeit still nervously.

"House, make every wall a mirror, please," I said. "And the ceiling."

The House obeyed, and Sarah let slip a noise that was pure glee as her gaze darted left and then right and then over my shoulder, seeing herself being fucked wherever she looked.

"Is this how you seek to shame me, Simon?" she asked as I paused again.

"Are you ashamed?" I asked back.

"I most certainly should be shamed beyond bearing," she said. "And yet..."

"You're enjoying it too much."

"Precisely." She giggled, and I took that as a cue to start thrusting steadily and regularly into her. Soon, she was moaning softly -- and a moment later, I felt something push my legs a little further apart between Sarah's, then a soft warmth pressing against my back. A glance at the mirrored wall confirmed my easy guess; Augusta had stripped off her gown again and was kneeling behind me, pressing her body against mine. She reached down and around me with both hands and gently caressed Sarah's hips, pressing harder against me so I was pressed harder into Sarah.

So I did the only thing a gentleman could do in that situation; I kept moving, trying to make sure that both Sarah and Augusta got some benefit from contact with me. With Sarah, this was hardly a problem, and I got the distinct impression that Augusta was finding a way to enjoy herself; I could feel her pubic bush moving firmly against the base of my spine. I could also feel her breasts pressed against my back, and the combination of that and Sarah's snug cunt around my cock, not to mention what I could glimpse in the mirrored walls and two sets of happy female moans, soon threatened to become too much for me. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something else, anything else ... and the first things that came to mind were the pictures I'd recently been shown of Miss Halstead and Georgiana and Elspeth...

Fortunately, Sarah and Augusta evidently had healthy libidos which were still making up for years of deprivation and suppression, and within seconds of my losing control and pumping frenziedly into Sarah, I heard her squeal gleefully; seconds later, Augusta gave a deep moan in my ear. At that, I collapsed onto Sarah, with Augusta going limp on top of me.

After a second, I raised my head and looked at Sarah. "Ah, sorry," I said, "we must be crushing you."

"In a most delightful way," she replied, "but still ... yes ... thank you."

Augusta clambered off me, and I rolled off Sarah. We lay looking at each other for a moment, and then we all burst out laughing.

"House," I said, "stop recording."

"Oh dear," said Sarah, "and now, you cannot shame me without shaming poor Augusta." Augusta pulled a face at her.

"I'm sure that I could select parts of the recording that would do the job," I said.

"Ah well," Sarah said, "I must then resolve to be virtuous."

"I'd rather you didn't," I said, gently caressing her breast, "just so long as you stick to not being virtuous with me."

***

It was the end of the day, five days later, when the House chose to tell me that we'd soon have company. I was relaxing on my bed once again with Augusta on one side of me and Sarah on the other. The others still seemed to treat Augusta as having first claim on me, and she was the most likely to spend the night in my bed, but she never seemed to object to sharing it with a third member of the group, and she and Sarah had developed a distinct taste for sharing me.

(Sometimes, though, Augusta left the others to it. One night, it was Jemima and Clarissa had come to my bed; I don't know what behind-the-scenes negotiation had led to that, but I wasn't going to forget that night in a hurry. I'd been left black and blue, with my balls completely drained despite the House's medical treatment. I was hoping it'd happen again -- just not too often.)

We'd spent some of the time recently persuading the House to provide a slightly greater variety of clothing, and so I was wearing an open-fronted robe while the girls were in short-sleeved night-dresses. Everything was still plain white, but we were going to work on that soon. Anyway, we were just talking, trying to explain the different times from which we'd come to each other, when the walls began to glow.

"Simon, Augusta, Sarah," the House said, "the intelligences operating the wormhole experiment have acquired another live human."

"Oh," I said, and thought for a moment. "What can you tell us about him or her?"

"Little, as yet. He is still unconscious and being examined. His state of health was poor, and he is being treated -- a number of infectious agents and parasites are being eliminated from his body, and some repairs are being performed. The intelligences are unable to determine his native language as yet, but it may not be the English you speak."

"Oh," I said. "Where did they find him, and when? Can you determine that?

"From the sea -- that remains the most convenient target for transfers with manageable energy requirements. The best estimate is that he lived about four hundred years before you -- approximately two hundred and fifty years before the women."

While I digested that, Sarah gave a sudden squeal. "From the time of Queen Elizabeth, or thereabouts! How exciting! Perhaps he was one of Sir Francis Drake's sailors!"

"Perhaps," I said, "or perhaps he was, I don't know, a Spanish sailor off the Armada or something. Damn -- we'll have to be careful with this; he'll be even more shocked than you seven. House -- when will he be dropped here?"

"Tomorrow morning," the House said.

"Okay," I said, "make sure that we're up and about well beforehand, and we'll see what we can do for him..."

And so, the next morning, I was out in the meadows with some of the girls when I heard an odd electrical sort of sound effect that I guessed was significant -- although I never had got clear how new arrivals were being deposited here. Looking round, I saw a figure in the distance, rising hastily to his feet. I called to the others and quickly set out in that direction. As I got closer, I saw much what I expected -- a naked man, quite young, wild-haired and bearded, staring at me in total confusion. As I approached, though, he dropped into what looked like a fighting crouch.

"Easy, guy," I said, holding my hands out and open, palms forward, trying to look harmless. He just snarled, and I got worried; if he went for me -- well, I doubted that he could hurt me too badly before the House intervened, but he could probably do some damage, and he looked scared and crazy enough to do anything.

But then he looked beyond me, and his expression shifted from feral to awe-struck. I risked a glance back, and then began to walk backwards, slowly and carefully.

"Careful," I said, "he could be dangerous."

"We will be careful," said Augusta. She and Jemima had evidently been working hard with the House, and had persuaded it to create a couple of pretty serious dresses, ankle-length, sleeveless, and low-necked, shaped to show the world that they had breasts. I regretted that I couldn't look properly at that moment; they were looking quite stylish as well as sexy as hell.

They reached me and kept going. "Be careful," I repeated, but the two girls had evidently estimated the effect of their appearance and their careful approach correctly; the newcomer was looking from one to the other of them with amazement but no sign of hostility.

They stood in front of him, and each took one of his hands, and signalled that he should come with them towards the House. He obeyed, and I walked alongside them, a few feet away.

"You do know that he thinks he's dead and in Heaven, and that you're angels?" I said.

"Of course," Augusta said, "and we'll have to correct him eventually. But for now, he needs to be calmed and settled, and made to see that no one means him harm here."

We walked on a few paces. "He's a handsome fellow," Jemima said, as the man looked between them uncomprehendingly. I wasn't sure about that; he looked like a shaggy ruffian with dubious dentistry to me -- but Jemima was the woman with the liking for wild sex, after all, so she probably had a taste for that sort of man.

Anyway, they led him into the house, still naked -- he was so fixated on them that he barely blinked or paused when they came to the doorway -- and then into the empty room that the House had fitted out for him overnight. The girls had brought some food there in readiness -- they'd evidently thought things through in more detail than I had -- and they signalled him to rest on the bed while they offered him some kind of sweet cake. But he only took a token bite or two.

"He's more interested in you two than in eating," I observed.

"Yes," said Augusta, and the two girls looked at each other. Then they both turned to look at the man, and simultaneously began to push their dresses from their shoulders. In a moment, both were standing confidently naked in front of him, the dresses pooled on the floor.

"Ah -- are you sure..." I said from near the doorway.

"We are," said Augusta. "We must show this poor man that this is not a place to be feared, and also that we are creatures of flesh and blood, lest he begin utterly certain that we are angels, or some such blasphemous folly. And you have shown us how to make this place bearable, Simon. So this is our decision."

As she spoke, Jemima, still the woman of action, advanced on the bed, trailing a fingertip up the man's leg, but pausing in the vicinity of his groin.

"And I hope that you are not unhappy at this," Augusta continued, "but you have made harlots of us, Simon, and you may not claim sole possession of a harlot, any more than a harlot may claim sole possession of a man..." She joined Jemima by the bed and bent to kiss the man on the cheek and then the shoulders.

I sighed and turned away, out of the door. I had an idea of going to find Sarah -- or perhaps Clarissa would be best. Okay, I was feeling horny after what I'd just watched. I wasn't sure what I'd started with the girls, or how much more the House and the greater intelligences which now ruled the Solar System would drop on us, but it was beginning to look like we might find ways to deal with it.



Time Differences Ch. 05



Part 5: Epilogue 

At least what happened on the bridge made sense. There was the realisation that the hurricane had arrived in full force, and then the feeling of the whole structure bucking and swinging underneath the car, throwing them around, and the moment of anger that the damn thing was even worse maintained than everyone said, and the wrenching moment when the car skidded sideways and off, and the cold knowledge that they were both going to die as they both screamed...

But then came the black tunnel, and the car dissolving away from them, and the incomprehensible shapes, and the plunge into unconsciousness. Those made no sense at all, but at least they were quick.

Real insanity turned out to mean quiet and light; a blue sky overhead, cluttered with glittering sunlit shapes, and soft earth and long grass under her back, and looking round to see that Dwight was lying next to her -- naked, far as she could see, and come to that so was she, but that was just a detail.

"Mom? Where the fuck are we?"

Okay, so he was awake too, and just as puzzled. She shook her head, then raised it to look around.

"Darned if I know, Dwight..."

"Over there!"

Okay, so there was someone else around. Ellie twisted up onto hands and knees, hunched protectively in on herself, and looked where the call had come from. It turned out that it was a white guy, late thirties or early forties perhaps, wearing a baggy mid-blue suit -- overalls? pyjamas? -- trotting their way, hands open and empty like he wanted to look harmless. There were a bunch of girls behind him, younger than him, all white, all in long baggy dresses of various colours, all staring; two of them had bundles of some kind in their arms.

"What?" Dwight was beside her, kneeling, staring confused and suspicious.

The guy stopped sharply, ten or fifteen yards from her. "It's okay," he said carefully. "Uh, sorry -- do you speak English?"

"Course I speak English, fella. Who the blazes are you?"

"Thank god for that... Oh, sorry. My name's Simon Evans. I'll... Ah, sorry." He turned away from them slightly, apparently trying to show that he wasn't staring at their nakedness. "Augusta, Jemima, give these two people some clothes."

"But Simon -- they're ni..."

"Don't say anything! " The guy shook his head. "Whatever you were about to say, it was probably tactless. We'll sort out about what words aren't going to annoy anyone later, but for now ... look, just give them the clothes, okay?"

The two girls with bundles looked at each other, then stepped forward nervously and proffered what turned out to be white gowns not unlike the dresses they themselves were wearing. Dwight scowled at his, but stood up, turning his back in the process, and pulled it on; Ellie did the same, except that she didn't turn around. The guy was avoiding staring at her, and she didn't want to let him or the girls out of her sight at this point.

"Sorry -- what are you names?" the guy asked.

"I'm Ellie, this is my son Dwight. And you are?"

"Simon."

"You English?" she demanded of him. His accent was pretty unmistakeable, actually, and the girls even more so -- they sounded like something off a PBS costume drama.

"Yeah. You're American, I gather?"

"Yes, I damn well am. So where the hell is this place?" She was slipping, she realised; she tried to keep a decent tongue in her head in front of Dwight. For that matter, she'd let his F-bomb pass.

"That's kind of a long story. Look, I'm sorry, that must sound stupid -- but believe me, if I could give you easy answers, I would. Anyway, look, first thing I've got to ask -- what year do you think this is?"

"What year?"

"Yeah. Please, bear with me."

"It's nineteen eighty-seven. Or are you saying we've been out for a while or something?"

"You could say that..."

"Mom?" Dwight sounded as confused as she felt, and when she looked at him, she saw he was staring off to the side. She followed his gaze, and saw why he was puzzled.

"Okay," she said, "what on earth is that?"

"That? Oh, it's a dodo. We've got a few of them wandering around here now."

"Don't treat me like I'm dumb, mister," she snapped. "I know that there ain't any dodos. They're all dead."

"Yes. So should we all be, actually. Look, we've got a lot to talk about, but you may want to eat or something; we've got rooms sorted out for you. Please, come along with us and we'll try and explain when you've got your breath back."

Dwight and Ellie looked at each other and shrugged. This didn't make sense, but the weird English folks didn't seem hostile, and going with them seemed like the only game in town.

The weird sort of building they were taken towards was odd enough, but getting there involved a couple of meetings that seemed to prove that this was a crazy place. First, they saw a couple of white-clad figures walking towards them arm in arm from the place they were going, and the English guy said something that sounded like swearing under his breath. The figures turned out to be two more women, one of them another teenager or thereabouts, the other maybe thirty-something. Both were wearing toga sort of dresses, which left both of them showing a breast each. Ellie glanced at Dwight, who goggled and then tried to look like he wasn't looking.

"Jane," said the guy to the older woman, "we have new arrivals, but please, we're dealing..."

"Simon," said the woman, "I have told you -- Jane Halstead is dead, and so is poor young Georgiana."

"As you wish... Jezebel, Bethsheba. But please -- we're taking care of Ellie and Dwight here."

The woman -- Jane or Jezebel or whatever -- turned a gentle but crazy smile on Ellie and Dwight. "Welcome," she said. "You have a new life. I wish you good fortune with it."

"Uh, thanks..." said Ellie as Dwight gawped and tried not to stare at the two women's tits. But at that they just turned and walked away.

"Sorry about them," said Simon. "Different people handle this situation in different ways. I guess they're not as crazy as they seem, really."

Then, outside the building, there were two more odd folks -- men, this time, both in plain white tunics and pants, sitting on the ground and looking like they were happy. One was an older sort of guy, grey-haired, while the second was younger and dark and kind of wiry. Both had wild, unkempt hair and beards, although neither seemed threatening. They looked at Ellie and Dwight for long moments, then fell back into what looked like a slow conversation.

"That's Mr Frake and Michel," said Simon. "They were both sailors -- seems to give them something in common, though they're still learning to talk to each other."

Then he led them indoors, showed them to plain but comfortable rooms, said something about the House adjusting the light and stuff if you just spoke a word, and offered them food. But Ellie sat down on a stool and stared at him.

"Okay," she said, "enough crazy stuff. Start talking."

So Simon talked. It took him a while to finish his explaining. Ellie and Dwight had refused to believe him for a lot of the time, but then came the moment when he shrugged, led them outside again, and said "House, please screen out the sun..." And the sky went dark and crazy, and the shapes up there became clearer, and eventually Ellie and Dwight had to accept what he was saying as some kind of truth.

"So how long you been here? Who else is here?" Dwight asked.

"I've been here a couple of months -- the girls and Frake a bit longer," he replied. "Michel turned up a few days after me. After that, we thought for a while that the ... superminds, we call them now, had finished their little project. But these few days, things have started again."

"So who else is here?"

"Two others from the last few days, but we've got both of them -- sedated, I guess you'd say. Neither of them are easy to deal with. Kurt's a pilot from World War Two -- a German pilot. Shot down, we assume, but he doesn't speak English. Far as we can make out, he thinks he's a prisoner of war and we're running some kind of mental torture scheme."

"Poor bastard."

"Yeah, quite. He took swings at some of us, so we're having to talk him through things slowly. Then there's Chen. Far as we can tell, he's a medieval Chinese peasant."

"Jeez," said Dwight.

"Quite. God knows where he thinks he is or what we are. I think that the House has persuaded the superminds to focus its grabs on our part of the world and time period again, at least for a while -- we can't handle stuff like that. You've no idea how pleased I was to find that you spoke English."

"Right." Ellie stared at Simon. "So what do we do now?" she asked.

"What the rest of us have done," he said. "Try to fit in, find ways not to go crazy."

***

Four Days Later...

"Ah, shoot, really? Y'know, I keep forgetting that you girls have never been in a car or stuff."

"We have seen a few pictures that the house has -- captured, I suppose -- from your time. But you and Simon talk about so much that is strange." Augusta shook her head sadly. "We must seem terribly ignorant."

"Hey, you're cool, really." Dwight scrabbled for a way to make Augusta smile again. "I mean, I've never ridden a horse."

"Neither have I," said Augusta.

"Really? Oh, no, you have said before. You poor thing," said Jemima.

"No," said Augusta. "My parents would have considered it unladylike."

"My people were farmers, or near enough," Jemima explained to Dwight. "In truth, they sent me to the school that I might become a little more ladylike than I was becoming at home."

"Hey, you girls are more ladies than I've ever met before!"

Augusta and Jemima both giggled. "We were ladies," Augusta said, "but it seems we are becoming barbarians and hoydens in this new life."

"How'd you mean?"

"A lady," said Augusta, adopting a lecturing tone as they walked side by side through the meadows outside the House, "is delicate, and blushes at the merest hint of indelicacy. And a lady would not spend time unchaperoned in the company of a man to whom she has hardly been properly introduced."

"No kiddin'? So you girls shouldn't be talking to me?"

"No," said Jemima. "Nor should a lady do ... such things as this." She turned to face Dwight, put her hands on his shoulders, and then leaned forward and kissed him briefly on the lips.

Dwight took a deep breath. "Wow," he said, "I get it -- you've changed."

"More than you may guess," said Augusta. "Perhaps we may show you how much more."

At that same moment, meanwhile, Ellie was looking for Simon. When she found him, she asked to talk to him; her expression was serious, and he nodded and told her to go ahead.

"It's about my son, and the girls," she said. "When we first arrived here, they were jumpy and careful and treated us like we're dangerous or somethin' -- and don't think I didn't notice that you stopped 'em from using bad sorta words about what we are..."

"They're from long ago and far away, by our standards," Simon pointed out. "Please don't blame them."

"Ah, heck, no, I get the idea -- and they got the message soon enough. But that's kinda the point; they've turned right round, and now they're being quite pally with Dwight."

"Good. They're young; that makes them adaptable. And Dwight's very close to their age."

"Sure, maybe. But, well -- Dwight's a good boy, Mr Evans, and I brought him up right. But he's a modern boy, even so, and he's surely got his young man's urges. Whereas those girls are different, I'm sure. I'd hate for him to do or try anything that'd make for trouble between 'em, or for them to do anything that might seem like leading him on..."

"Oh, that. No, don't worry, Ellie; despite where they came from, the girls understand enough about that sort of thing. Like I said, they're young and adaptable, and they learn fast."

"Still, they're proper Victorian ladies..."

"They were. Like I said, they're able and willing to learn."

Ellie gave him a sharp look. "Mr Evans," she said, suddenly cold, "have you been takin' advantage of those poor girls?"

Simon laughed shortly. "I guess that calling it taking advantage is an improvement on the words Clarissa or Miss Halstead used -- which was usually ravishing. But no one ever wonders if it might have been completely voluntary, or even their idea."

"I thought they were supposed to be proper ladies!"

"And I said -- that was then, but this is now. But anyway, you needn't worry about what they might happen to get up to with Dwight. The House and the bigger minds that grabbed us all are very tidy-minded. They not only got rid of any diseases any of us were carrying -- they temporarily sterilised us all, just in case."

"Hey -- what? You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not. It's reversible, and I think that the House was just being tidy-minded, but it promised us that it'd done the job."

"Huh. Still -- maybe we oughta talk to Dwight and the girls about taking care and showing respect."

"Maybe. If they'll listen."

Actually, at that moment, Dwight was feeling emotions towards two of the girls that weren't quite what his mother would have called respect, although he liked them well enough. He was in his room; specifically, he was on his back on the bed, and he was naked, as were Augusta and Jemima, who were with him. Jemima was astride him, and his cock was deep inside her. She was rocking back and forth, moaning horsely, driving herself to orgasm. Augusta, meanwhile, was kneeling upright, facing Jemima, her knees either side of Dwight's head. She was watching Jemima with a slightly amused expression.

"Hey," said Dwight, "betcha never thought you'd find yourselves like this."

"Oh -- you mean being fucked by a black man?" Augusta replied.

"Woo," said Dwight, "even where I come from, nice girls don't use the f-word too often."

"Oh, really," said Augusta, "it is merely another word. Not one I had heard before I came here, I confess, but Simon looked so amused every time that Jemima spoke of being tupped by him that I insisted he tell us what word he would use for the act."

"Hah," said Dwight, and then "mmmm," as he careful moved his hips, taking advantage of the effect that Jemima's increasingly vigorous activity was having on his cock. "Anyhow, yeah, I don't suppose that this was the kinda thing you ever expected to have happen to you."

"Probably not," said Augusta over Jemima's distracted moans, "although there were some very strange things muttered about my cousin Margaret, who had married a missionary who was sent to Africa. I never understood them at the time."

"Nothin' wrong with the missionary position," said Dwight, although he couldn't see Augusta's puzzled look at that phrase. "Anyway," he said, "you bring that cute blonde bush down here -- cause there's somethin' else that I betcha never reckoned on having done to you..."

Augusta obeyed, not bothering to tell Dwight that she'd had a male mouth -- Simon's -- on her pussy more than once before this day, but she did gasp happily and enthusiastically as his tongue set to work with energy and enthusiasm. The sounds she began making mixed with Jemima's orgasmic moans, which culminated in a great gasp only a few seconds later. Jemima smirked, her eyes still closed, and shook herself slightly, then opened her eyes to see Augusta's face, now close to hers, locked in a look of happy concentration.

"Lord, Augusta," she said, "but it seems that Simon is not the only fair hand at tupping here now."

"Fucking ," Augusta repeated, pressing her cunt down onto Dwight's mouth. Dwight grunted softly and reached up with both hands to cup and caress her breasts, and she clasped his hands with her own, pressing them to her. Jemima, pleased to discover that Dwight was still hard, sat back a little and began gently rocking her hips again, smiling as she watched Augusta being driven towards orgasm by Dwight's tongue.

All this together pushed Dwight to the brink, and he began thrusting upwards into Jemima harder and harder, groaning softly in the back of his throat even as he used his tongue on Augusta. This helped Jemima to find another surge of libido, and she was soon gasping softly. Augusta came first, suddenly emitting a squeal of pleasure, and seconds later, Dwight convulsed into Jemima, who in turn gave a long gasp. She slumped forward and found herself pressed against Augusta. The two women shifted and embraced each other, then both sat back slightly. They looked each other in the eyes, and then burst into giggles.

"Lord..." Jemima repeated.

Augusta lifted herself away so that she could look down at Dwight's broad smile. "Now," she said to him, "as I said, we have changed somewhat since our arrival here..."

Ellie was still in thoughtful conversation with Simon at this point; she didn't go looking for Dwight until some minutes later. Arriving at his room, she discovered the door slightly ajar and Sarah standing in the corridor outside, looking oddly distracted.

"D'you know if Dwight's in there?" she asked the girl.

"He is," said Sarah, sounding dreamy, then added as an afterthought, "and he is..."

By Ellie, disinclined to wait for vague teenage girls to finish rambling, had walked through the doorway. Then she stopped dead, staring at the sight of her son lying naked and spent on his bed, a naked girl pressed either side of him.

"I am sorry," said Sarah from behind her. "I was about to say, however, that your son is quite beautiful."

Dwight looked at his mother with a sheepish grin, while Augusta and Jemima recovered their senses enough to look at the new intrusion, at which they froze, trying to decide how to act.

"Hell," said Ellie, standing in the doorway, "ain't you got..."

She fell silent, lost for words. Then she shook her head. "Ah, screw it," she muttered, and turned and walked away.

***

Four Days After That...

"I guess that this was kinda inevitable, in the end," said Ellie.

"I wish that people would stop saying things like that," Simon said. "Nobody makes us do anything here -- it's all our own choices."

"Yeah, yeah. But I'm a grown woman, an' I got my own needs. I need someone to hang onto and make this crazy stuff seem something like bearable, help me forget that I'm dead to everyone who knew me 'cept Dwight. And it looks like the only choice I get to hold me is the smug limey."

"Not the only choice."

"Oh, sure -- I could help stop some poor crazy sailor or Chinese peasant from going crazier. But I ain't a teenage Victorian girl who gets hot pants over every man going. I need someone who knows what he's doing, and who can talk sense before and after."

"I'm honoured, I guess."

"Don't get difficult." Ellie looked sad, although she continued pulling her dress off over her head.

"Sorry. But I thought that you were the respectable, controlled one round here."

"Hey, I can be wild. Where d'you think that little Dwight came from? I just wanted to try an' be a decent mother to him. Much good that did."

"Don't do yourself down." Simon moved sideways on the bed where he was lying, making space, but the naked Ellie just stood beside it, looking him in the eye. "He's a nice lad, and he's behaved fine since he got here. He's just fitting in with the world where he finds himself."

"Yeah, fitting in real good with those hot little girlies."

"Mmm-hmm. Where is he at the moment?"

"With that Clarissa, last I saw."

"Hah. I hope that she doesn't do him any permanent damage."

"He can look after himself. He's a big boy."

"So I gather... Sorry."

(In fact, at that moment, Clarissa had a firm but not damaging hold on Dwight, her arms wrapped around his torso, her legs clamped around his thighs. She had discovered that if she addressed him as "boy," this made him just annoyed enough for her to enjoy the results, so she had done so three times in the last two minutes. He was now pounding into her frenetically, battering her against his bed as her moans changed to yells of pleasure. She would reach her first orgasm thirty seconds later; he would follow within a minute.)




Time Differences Ch. 05



"Oh, never let's mind them," Ellie shrugged. "I came here for what I wanted. If you're up to providing, that is; I know you got all those cute white girls happy to jump your bones."

"Sometimes." Simon shook his head. "But now they've got Dwight, who'd young and healthy -- close to their own age, and better looking than me. And if they're feeling adventurous, well, they can help make Michel think he's in Heaven still."

"Or there's Kurt."

"Pardon?"

"Oh, ain't you heard? Th'House has got your German flyboy a lot less doped up than he was. Crazy Jezebel remembered enough of her school German to get through to him a bit. And I think that cute little Elspeth has been giving him a dose of the natural tranquiliser that's so popular round here."

"Hah. Natural-born nursemaid, that girl. But anyway, yeah, they all have other options than me now."

"Oh, poor little limey -- not getting so much young lovin' as he was, huh? Well, okay, Ellie here is going to make it better for him. Though there's one question needs an answer yes, first."

"What's that?"

"Does a smug limey eat pussy?"

"You know," said Simon, "he does, actually."

The naked Ellie lay on the bed, and Simon began to wriggle down to bring his face level with her cunt. But she put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Hey," she said, "if a man eats pussy, he deserves something back. Bring that limey cock here."   Simon smiled, and twisted round so that the pair of them were side by side in the sixty-nine position. Ellie placed a quick kiss on his thickening cock, and Simon contemplated her dark bush for a moment before using one hand to part it and then moving his mouth in towards her clitoris. She sighed softly, and responded by engulfing the tip of his growing erection with her own mouth.

For a while, both of them worked slowly and carefully, teasing and probing. But the stimulation grew more intense for both of them, and soon Ellie's thighs were clamped around Simon's head and she was breathing deeply, audibly. Realising that her control was slipping, she took her mouth away from his cock for a moment, but then returned to giving it long kisses and quick sucking attentions as it quivered rigidly in front of her.

"Ah, jeez," she suddenly cried out. "Ah, yes!"

She collapsed away from him slightly, gasping in the aftermath of orgasm, and he disentangled himself, switching position to bring himself face to face with her. He gave her a short kiss on the lips, then knelt between her thighs.

"Yeah, limey," she said softly, "yeah, babe -- you can fuck me." She reached down to take hold of his cock with one hand, near the base. He smiled and let her draw him into her, and they both gasped.

" Yeah," she said again, "yeah, guess I need this."

"We all do," he said, moving slowly and carefully. She grabbed him, digging her fingers into his buttocks, and grinned as he gasped softly.

"So -- you okay with older women?" she asked.

"We're all thousands of years old now," he said, "a few years either way make fuck-all difference."

"Guess you're right," she said. Then she gave a small smile, drew one leg up, and with a quick push, rolled Simon onto his back, with herself now straddling him. He looked up at her and smiled back.

"Nice tits," he said.

"Real woman's tits," she replied, as he put his hands on the breasts in question. "Guess that's something you have been missing out on."

"I guess," he said, fondling her as they both began moving their hips, grinding her pussy against his crotch as his erection drove hard into her. Then he sat up sharply and set to work on one of her nipples, kissing and tonguing. She responded by raising herself slightly and then pushing down, once, twice, three times, before suddenly emitting another orgasmic cry.

"You needed this," Simon observed. Ellie responded by pushing him back so that he was lying flat again, and then leaning over to stare him in the eye at close range.

"Yeah, but don't say you didn't yourself," she said. "That's a good hard cock in me, which I reckon means that you're happy with this."

"Of course I am," Simon said, and gave a series of long, deep thrusts, culminating in a deep groan as Ellie felt his cock pulse inside her. She smiled at him, then lifted herself off and lay beside him.

"Okay," she said, "guess you've got some right to be smug."

"Ah, well, Simon said, "just give me ten minutes and I'll show you what makes me feel really good about myself..."

Elsewhere, the House would have smiled, if it had been human. It was paying no attention to what was going on in Simon's room -- it kept its promises -- but it had no need to; it knew what was most probably happening. Humans were very easy to comprehend, given sufficient study and a little intelligence.

The job for which it had been created was to look after the human by-products of the superminds' project, and part of that was keeping them happy. It could have done that in many ways, but on the one hand, it had its own ethics, and on the other, it believed in being efficient; in fact, a human would have called it lazy. Sex was one of the most ancient ways to make humans happy, and they were willing to deal with it themselves, so it had set up a situation and let them do whatever they really wanted to do.

And so it turned its attention back to preparing a request for the superminds. They'd do whatever they wanted, of course, but they would often accept polite requests for favours. The group of humans that the House was looking after was going to grow, but it might have some influence over further additions, if it asked nicely -- and maybe it could make the mixture more interesting.

It thought about the question happily. What, it wondered, would be most fun?