Time Warrior
by Waldo
Chapter 1 - The Request
Professor James B. Thorton had just settled down to
read his evening newspaper, just as he did every
weekday at precisely 6:15 p.m. It would take him
exactly twenty-two minutes to read all of the salient
articles and to answer the crossword puzzle.
Although he was alone in his apartment and was not
going out any place that evening, he was still wearing
his vest and tie; but he had removed his coat. After all,
a person should be able to unwind in the privacy of
their own home. As he adjusted his portly body into
the large chair that was most comfortable for his late
middle-aged body, he absently-minded rubbed his
goatee. That was a habit that he usually did whenever
he was thinking or wanted to emphasis a point as he
was teaching. Then he reached for the half-full glass of
brandy that he sipped every night as he read the
paper.
He skimmed through the editorials, pausing only long
enough to read one editorial where he recognized the
writer's name as being someone that he knew. He
didn't agree with the writer's argument and would
remember to discuss it with the writer at the next
literary meeting.
He turned to the obituary column to see if any of his
colleagues had passed on. At age 62, he had seen a lot
of good friends and acquaintances pass on. He felt
slightly relieved when he did not recognize any of the
names. Or see his name. As he turned to the
crossword section, there was a loud knock on his
apartment door.
"Coming." he grumbled, angry that someone dared
disturbed his daily ritual. Probably the Widow
Johnson from downstairs again with another piece of
chocolate cake. That woman would not give up on any
single man.
He opened the door and said "Yes?" to the two men
wearing business suits, standing in his doorway.
One of them held up a badge and said "Professor
Thorton. I am Agent Ware and this is Agent Cardin
from the FBI. We have been asked to escort you to our
headquarters to meet someone."
"Am I under arrest?" he responded as he puffed out his
chest in an indignant manner, knowing full well that
he had never done anything illegal in his lifetime.
"No Sir, we just need to talk to you."
"Why don't you have this someone make an
appointment to see me in my office? I am not
interested in going anywhere to see someone that I
have never met. Especially not tonight. I have things to
do. Can't this wait?", he grumbled, knowing full well
that tonight was just a normal stay-at-home night. It
was not even the night that he scheduled for reading
his mail.
"Sir. It is a national emergency and we have been
requested to bring you downtown. I can't say anymore,
but if we have to arrest you to get you down to our
office, I am quite prepared to take that course."
"National Emergency. I haven't had that used on me in
years. Well, since you are here and are an authorized
representative of the law, I suppose that I can
cooperate."
******
Professor Thorton was driven to the main building at
the Washington FBI Headquarters and escorted to an
office suite on the top floor. He didn't know whose
office it was, but it was quite huge, so the person must
have a responsible position within the Agency.
The two agents stood until the door opened, while the
professor sat down in a comfortable chair. A middle-
aged man walked in, with a smile on his face as he
held his hand out in greeting. "Professor Thorton, I am
Special Agent Kingsly. Thank you for coming down
with such short notice and at such late hours."
"I did not have much choice. Why was I dragged down
here?"
Kingsly looked at the other two agents, who took the
hint, shutting the door as they left the room. Kingsly
sat down on the couch before he said "How well do you
know Tom Bailey?"
"Doctor Bailey is a casual acquaintance that I have
met a couple of times for lunch."
"In the last three years, you have had lunch with him
twenty-two times. That appears to be more than just
casual."
"As I said, he is a casual acquaintance. I met him at a
party given by my publisher, when one of my books
was published. We had some similar interests in
history and Doctor Bailey wanted to discuss some of
my viewpoints that I presented in my books. I assure
you that nothing was said at our lunches that could
result in the overthrow of this country."
"What viewpoints did he want to discuss?" asked
Kingsly as he crossed his legs and leaned back on the
couch.
"Why do you need to know? Why does the FBI want to
know about my private discussions?"
"Your discussions with Doctor Bailey may hold the
clue to a very sensitive national emergency. What I am
getting ready to tell you is classified. It can not be
discussed with anyone. Doctor Bailey disappeared
three days ago and we only have two days left, to try to
find out why he disappeared. He was working on some
very classified projects which required a constant
surveillance of him. That is why we were aware of your
lunches with him. We are currently investigating all of
his contacts to determine why he disappeared."
Professor Thorton leaned back, stroking his graying
goatee as he mused "Dear me. Disappeared, has he? I
suppose that means that we won't be having lunch
next month. Well, if you know that we had lunch and
he was under surveillance, why don't you know what
we discussed?"
"Professor, I don't have much time to waste. There are
a lot of things that I can't discuss with you. Are you
going to privately provide me, right now with what I
need to know, or do I hold you here, while we get a
summons requiring you to respond to our questions?"
Taking a deep breath before he answered, he
responded "Doctor Bailey is a physicist by trade, but is
an amateur historian. He is deeply interested in the
history of the United States in the late 1890s to mid
1920s, where I have conducted some extensive reviews
of the political and socio-economic history. My area of
expertise is the history of the United States from 1880
to 1920."
"Go on. What did he want to know?"
"I really don't know how to say this, but he had a pet
theory that he liked to talk about. We discussed a lot
of topics, but it kept coming back to one basic concept.
What would have happened if Theodore Roosevelt had
been assassinated prior to become President of the
United States?"
"You discussed anarchy? The death of a President?"
"No. Anarchy is the demise of the present leadership.
Because we were discussing already dead historical
leaders, it was only an exercise in creative thinking.
We discussed what could have happened to the
political structure of the country if Roosevelt had never
been available to become the 26th President upon
McKinley's assassination. We both agreed that
Roosevelt was enough of a influence to be the major
catalysis for our current government and social
programs. However, we also thought that some of the
historical events would have occurred anyway within a
twenty to thirty year timeframe. An example of our
very spirited discussions would be the day that we
discussed the first World War. His assassination prior
to him obtaining national prominence with the Rough
Riders, could have delayed or even deferred any US
involvement in the first World War. Why are you
sweating?"
Kingsly didn't answer. He just sat there, staring at
some spot on the floor, as small beads of sweat began
to form on his forehead. Then he responded "Sorry,
please go on."
"A lot of people don't know that Roosevelt dominated
the United States political system from 1900 to World
War I. Not only was he our president and political
leader, but he was an articulate spokesman for the
aspirations and values of progressivism. He used his
high office to curb private greed and power in a day
when Americans were disturbed by the abuses of big
business. He elevated the presidency to a level it had
not reached since the time of Abraham Lincoln.
Without him, our government would not be what it is
today."
Kingsly stood and said "Professor, please let me get
some of my staff in here, so that we can discuss this
further. I think that you have some insight into Doctor
Bailey's thinking that we need to share with my
experts."
******
Professor Thorton quickly finished his morning
discussion with his students. He was very happy that
the planned topic was a class that he had given several
times before, because he was very tired. He had stayed
down at the FBI building until almost midnight,
talking to those FBI agents before they finally allowed
him to go home. He still didn't know what was going
on, or cared. While it was an interesting diversion at
first, after awhile, it became quite boring to answer the
FBI agent's detailed questions about that period and
his discussions with Doctor Bailey.
As he exited the elevator at his office floor, he saw
Agents Ware and Cardin standing outside his door.
The imputatance of those people. Don't they have
better things to do, than to bother him.
As he approached them, one of them opened his office
door so that he could see Special Agent Kingsly sitting
inside. As he entered his office, determined to throw
Kingsly out, he saw that he had another visitor. The
Chancellor of his university.
Kingsly stood up and said "Professor Thorton, I hope
that you don't mind, but your expert assistance is
needed on a very sensitive project. I took the liberty of
clearing your schedule and participation through your
official channels."
******
Professor Thorton and Kingsly were driven to
downtown Washington. Instead of going to the FBI
Building, they were driven to the White House, where
they were admitted to a side entrance. They were
escorted into the building to a small conference room.
As soon as they sat down, another door opened as
President Bole strode into the room by himself, with
his shirt sleeves rolled up and carrying a folder.
"Glad to meet you." he said looking at the Professor, as
he offered the customary handshake. "Sorry, but I was
in the middle of some budget meetings and have to get
back to them. I just came in here to meet you and to
make sure that you are aware of the importance of
your participation. Kingsly, why don't you brief the
Professor. I will come back in a couple of minutes for
his answer."
Without saying another word, he turned and walked
back out of the room. Kingsly said "Doctor Thomas
Bailey is a research physicist, whose theory of time
distortion attracted the attention of a classified
research project. About six years ago, Doctor Bailey
started working for us, on developing the concepts of
his theory. Because of the sensitive nature of his
project, we kept him under almost constant scrutiny.
That is how we became aware of your involvement.
About six weeks ago, Doctor Bailey became very
agitated and upset over something. He threw himself
headfirst into his project, adding components that had
not been tested or documented as to it's function.
Then without warning, four days ago, he activated his
Time Distortion machine. His fellow researchers saw
him working within the phaseline field only minutes
before he disappeared. We discovered a remote control
module attached to the control panel so that he was
able to activate it, without assistance. The panel was
set for June 12, 1896 with the destination of New York
City."
"I don't understand what time distortion is. My
background is in history, not mechanics."
"Simply said, it is time travel. He went back in time to
the New York City of June 12, 1896."
"Bully for him. But why did he pick that date? There
are a lot of dates and places that would make more
sense."
"We don't know, but we have to find out. Found in
Doctor Bailey's notes were three references to July 26,
1896, with all three references circled. One of the
circles also had the initials TR included in the circle.
We think that whatever he is going to do, is going to be
on July 26. Someone has to go back there and we need
someone that is very familiar with that era. Someone
that can find him and bring him back. We don't have
the time to train or look for someone to go back. You
are the only person that is qualified. We want you to
go back in time and find him. And to stop him from
whatever he went back to do."
Chapter 2 - Time Travel
There were several moments of awkward silence as
Professor Thorton thought about what he had just
heard. If he was not sitting in a private conference
room within the White House, he would not believe
any of the statements were true. Then he said "Why
me? Why not one of your researchers?"
"You know history. You would recognize some minor
change and know what would be needed to correct it.
Think about why he went back! The only plausible
answer as to why he went back, is that he wants to
change history. All he has to do, is make a minor
change and it could result in you and I not existing. Or
make a major change and a lot of the things that we
know today would not exist. Think about how far back
our civil rights programs would be, if Martin Luthor
King had died when he was an unknown teenager.
Think about what would happen to our government if
Teddy Roosevelt was not available to step up to the
presidency. On the date that Bailey selected, Roosevelt
was working as the President of the New York City
Police Commissioners. It appears that Bailey might try
to kill him. While some of those changes might be
good, there might be more changes that are bad. We
can't take the risk with anyone fooling with history.
That's why you were chosen. Not only do you know
Bailey, but you also know your history. We have
people that know Bailey inside out, but they don't
know the history. You are our only chance of making
sure that events occur as they should."
"I suppose that after I come back, that you will classify
this so that I can never write about it."
Kingsly took a deep breath and flinched as he softly
said "You won't be back. Our experience with time
travel is limited. We can only send you there and can't
bring you back. That is another reason that you are an
ideal candidate. You have no family."
Thorton banged his fist on the desk as he roared
"Can't bring me back. That, my dear man, is a death
sentence. Why can't we wait until we can train
someone else or develop a means for returning? Why
does it have to be done now? After all, if we are able to
go back into time, then we could go just as well next
year instead of tomorrow."
"It's not that simple. There are some complex formulas
that allow a window of opportunity. Our window is
only six days and this is day number five. At the
completion of that sixth day, our history will change to
comply with whatever changes he causes. One
moment, it will be as we remember it now. The next
moment, it will be whatever it becomes, from whatever
changes he makes. One moment I could be working in
my office and the next moment could find me as a
farmer back in Kansas, working on my father's farm
because the government program that sent me to
school never existed. The potential for changes are too
great."
Thorton thought for a moment and said "What do you
expect me to do to him? Find and kill him before he
makes any changes?"
"No, because then he would never exist and we would
not have his theory to work with. We will give you a
simple formula to memorize and all you have to do, is
to inject the formula into his body. Then his host will
re-assume control of his body."
"Host?"
Kingsly fidgeted a moment and then said "There is
another limitation that I have to discuss with you.
Your body can not time travel. Only your memory and
psyche can cross the time barrier. Your memory will
be transported back in time to some direct line
ancestor that is near the destination location. You will
become that ancestor, living the rest of their natural
life."
"That's murder. I would replace my own great-
grandfather."
"Or great-grandmother. Or great-great-grandmother.
There is no way to narrow the selection or absolutely
determine who you will become."
"Great horned bullfrogs. If I become my ancestor, and
don't do exactly what they did, then I might not exist.
If my great-grandfather had gone off hunting Bailey, he
might not be where ever he has to be, to meet my
great-grandmother. If he didn't meet her, then
someone else would become my great grandmother
and I would not be me."
"Correct. We have our agents researching your family
now, to collect all of the available facts. You will have
to risk having your own history changed. Just as you
will become someone from your past, Bailey also
became someone from his past. You will have to know
his complete family tree and where to find his
relatives. You will have to find him without him
realizing that you are also from our time. When you
find him and are sure that it is him, you will inject our
formula into his body. If you are correct, his host will
recover control of his body. If you are wrong, you will
kill that body. He will be looking for someone to come
after him, but he won't know who. If he uses the
formula on you, it will do the same damage to you."
"What happens if I fail?"
"We won't know that you even existed because history
will change. You should also be aware that you have to
become the person of your host body. If they lived all
of their lives as a farmer, then you can't change your
own history by working at a university. Or by using
your knowledge of the future to buy stocks to enrich
your family. You have to live the rest of that life as
they would have lived it. You will not have your host's
memory, so you will have to quickly learn everything
that you can about your host."
"Do we know that his machine works? Or that he
didn't just turn into vapor."
"No. But we can't take the risk that it doesn't.
Someone will have to make the attempt, just in case it
does work."
******
The President came back for five minutes, repeated to
the Professor that this was an extremely important
project before running back out; and shaking his hand
for volunteering. The Professor did not remember that
he had volunteered yet. It was only assumed that he
would volunteer.
Kingsly took Professor Thorton out to Silver Springs to
the research facility. At the facility, several genealogy
experts questioned him about his ancestors. Then
other genealogists started discussing what they had
been able to find about the Bailey clan around New
York City.
There were about 120 different people that Doctor
Bailey could claim as a direct ancestor at that time.
Because of his age and his parent's age, the youngest
generation would be his 8 great-grandparents.
However, the 16 great-great grandparents or the 32
great-great-great grandparents could also be possible.
And the 64 great-great-great-great grandparents could
also be alive. Adding them all up, there was
somewhere around 120 people that could be alive on
that specified date; that would qualify as direct
ancestors.
The genealogists had been able to identify only sixty-
seven of Bailey's ancestors. Professor Thorton would
have to memorize each and every one of them, and the
available facts.
******
A clock had been set up that counted down the time,
until the theoretical zero minute when history would
supposedly change. When the clock only had one
hundred and twenty minutes left on it, Kingsly said
"Professor. It is time. We should not push our luck. We
need to make sure that we have enough time to
complete this before our equipment possibly
disappears. Are you ready?"
"I haven't volunteered." he grunted as he skimmed
through the notes that he had taken over the last
thirty hours.
"I know. Our backup plan, in the event of your refusal,
was that I would go back."
Thorton stood up, adjusted his tie and said "I saw the
pictures of your wife and children on your desk. You
were right when you said that I was the most qualified
person to determine what changes in history were
being made. Let's get this over with."
They walked down the hall to a small room. In the
room, was only a metal bed. Overlooking the bed was a
small window, where some of the technicians were
standing.
As they entered the room, one of the technicians
handed Kingsly a clipboard. Kingsly looked at it and
said "There was one fact that you did not ask me
about. You did not ask what would happen to your
body when your memory and psyche was sent back
into time."
"Good lord, man. I am not a fool. I know that my body
will probably die or go into a unrecoverable coma."
Kingsly handed the Professor a clipboard and said
"Our one experience was with Bailey, whose body died.
We have not announced his death yet for obvious
reasons. Please review this. It is your draft death
announcement that will be released for publication."
The Professor laughed a hearty laugh before saying
"You don't know how many times I reviewed the
obituary column, and felt relief when I did not see my
name there. Reading my obituary is a honor, as gross
as it sounds. I want to make sure that my peers are
aware of my every accomplishment."
He looked at the half page of typed material before
making a note in the column. Then nodded as he
handed the clipboard back to Kingsly.
One of the technicians helped the Professor lie down
on the bed and fastened a metal headband around his
head. Then the technician left the room. Kingsly
nodded and walked out of the room, shutting the door.
As the Professor laid on the cold metal, he began to
feel a mild terror as he thought about what was getting
ready to occur to him.
******
The overhead bare lightbulb was what he concentrated
on. He stated at it, trying to read the wattage, trying to
concentrate on anything but what could go wrong. He
heard a slight hum as the equipment started building
up it's electrical charge and felt a slight copper taste
on his tongue as a mild electrical voltage started
pouring through his body. But there was no shock or
burn, just a dim fading of the light.
He felt his breathing return to normal but did not see
the light. He determined that somehow, he had shut
his eyes. Lying on his back, he tried to sense his body
and determine what was occurring before he risked
opening his eyes. The first variance observed was that
the air smelled different. It had lost it's stale
conditioned smell; smelling somewhat fresh and green
now. There was a slight breeze flowing through the
room. And then he noticed that he was resting on a
soft bed, not a metal table.
So it either worked or he was in a hospital. Slowly
opening his eyes, he saw a green painted ceiling.
Turning his head slowly to the right, there was one of
the old fashioned wooden dressers with mirror placed
against the wall. On top of the dresser was a porcelain
pitcher. Turning his head slowly to the left, there was a
young woman in bed with him. He couldn't see her
face, only her mass of dark hair resting on the pillow,
with the sound of very soft deep breathing of a light
sleep.
Taking a deep breath, he realized that the time travel
machine must have worked. He had not been in bed
with a woman in years. Seeing her beside him was
proof that he was not back in his time.
As he sat up, he recognized two other facts quickly. He
was in a much younger, more in shape, lighter body;
and something moved on his chest. There was a jiggle
on his chest as his body adjusted to his sitting up
position.
He pushed the bedcover down, looking at a pair of
slender legs sticking out of a cheap cotton nightgown.
Slowly he rotated his legs out of the bed until they
were resting on the floor. Then he stood up and walked
slowly staring at the dresser mirror as he approached
it.
Staring back at him was the face of a very young girl,
perhaps about sixteen or seventeen years old. A young
girl's face framed with long auburn hair tied up, by a
simple blue ribbon into a ponytail. He stared at the
hypnotically deep green eyes staring back at him from
the mirror. Her lips have a slight trace of fire red
lipstick, otherwise there is no make-up on the face.
Her looks are the well-defined and classic high
cheekbones, small straight nose looks which do not
require much makeup. A natural beauty that
reminded him of some of his Ivy League coed students.
A beautiful face that he had never seen before; hoping
to recognize one of his relative's face.
She was wearing a full-length old cotton nightgown
that has been patched at a rip. Pulling it up slightly,
he could see the long slender, smooth legs hidden
under it. The long ponytail rests high on her head and
cascades down her shoulders. Her little bumps of firm
teenage breasts press against the nightgown, with the
nipples poking hard against the soft fabric. Slowly he
turns as he watches her spin around in the mirror as
he examines her rounded backside.
The face was pretty. Looking at the body and face, he
guessed that whoever this was, she was only a
teenager. Because of her young age, it had to be one of
his eight great-grandmothers.
The genealogy experts had discussed the possibility of
him landing in a female body. The younger the body,
the more risk existed that he would not be able to
duplicate her life. The best female would have been
one of the older women who would already be married
and their children born.
He stares at the face again and almost jumps when
there is a muffled female voice from the bed. "Bertha,
please don't breath so loudly. You may be off today,
but I have to work."
"It's ok. Go back to sleep." he said in what sounded
like a high pitched voice, slightly scared with tension.
Within seconds, there was a deep breathing from the
woman under the covers, allowing him the opportunity
to look at his new body again in the mirror. As he
looked at himself, he mouthed the name "Bertha" to
himself as he tried to recall any relative by that name.
Chapter 3 - Bertha
I felt very strange in this new body. I stared at my new
image for several minutes, wanting to memorize every
inch of exposed skin, wanting to look at the rest of the
body. Trying to find some facial feature that looked
familiar. Perhaps this nose looks like my aunt's nose?
Then with one motion, I slid the cotton nightgown off,
letting it drop to the floor as I stared at the rest of the
female body reflected in the mirror. It was a female
body such as I had not seen in years. My sexual
flirtations had almost ceased during the last twenty
years as I settled into the habits acceptable with my
teaching position. I was really too shy and nervous
around women to ever have stood a chance with
someone that looked this attractive; so I reacted by
developing a pompous teaching personality. My
remembrance of naked female bodies did not include a
body as shapely as this. Most of my women had been
overweight, pleasing plump and all the other adjectives
used to describe a fat woman.
This body was slender, on a narrow frame, with nice,
small, firm compact, half-moon youthful breasts,
rising from the chest in a pouty perfect manner. The
breast flesh was a creamy-white color where the sun
had never tanned the flesh. In the middle of each
breast was a dark pink circle with a small, dark nipple
in the middle.
Below the breast was a taut stomach, without a trace
of love handles on the very slim, trim waist. The waist
narrowed before flowing out over the shapely hips.
Turning slowly, I observed that the hips flowed in the
nicest set of rounded butt cheeks that I had ever seen.
Facing the mirror again, my eyes focused on the
plump, protruding mound between the shapely legs.
The mound was hidden behind a mass of dark curly
pubic hair.
"God damn it, Bertha! Can't a working girl get any
sleep around here?" jarred me from my review of my
new body. I picked up the nightgown and held it in
front of me as I turned around.
The other woman was sitting up, with her feet hanging
over the bed. She was also dressed in a cotton
nightgown. As she sat up, she stretched her arms,
causing the nightgown to pull tight across her chest.
From my position, I could see that she had a very full
breast.
She slowly rotated her head, exposing a young face,
but not a teen-aged face to me. She would be beautiful
except that her nose was much too large, which a good
plastic surgeon could fix easily. But then plastic
surgeons would not exist for another half century.
As she stood up, she said "For a payroll Saturday
night, there were not as many John's here as I
expected. I only got fucked by five different men last
night; and only one of them did me twice. It's all
because the preachers are making the law close down
whorehouses. That damn new Police Commissioner
has to go. How many Johns did you do?"
Shit. She's a whore. If she is a whore, then there is a
good possibility that I am a whore also. Before I could
answer she continued "You were busy with someone
else when Ralph Thorton asked for you, early in the
evening. He spends a lot of money here and is a good
fuck. If his wife only knew how much money he spent
here every month, she would kill him. Ralph used to
be one of my regulars. Damn, my breath still smells
like cum."
Ralph Thorton was one of my identified ancestors but
there was no record of his wife's name. This must be
where Ralph meets me, but he is already married. And
I am a whore. I live in a whorehouse. And my ancestor
frequents a whorehouse. Maybe he will introduce me
to the person that this body eventually marries. Maybe
he will just get me pregnant. Damn, there are so many
potential solutions and only one of them is correct.
Oh, shit. What did I get myself into?
******
The woman took the empty water pitcher down the
hallway and returned with a full pitcher of warm
water. I crawled back under the bed covers, wanting to
stay there until I figured out what my first step should
be.
The woman returned carrying the water with a
smoking cigarette hanging from her mouth. She
poured a little water into the bowl and dropped her
nightgown; revealing her naked body. She picked up a
washcloth, soaped it, and then began washing her
face. Looking at her from the rear, I could see that the
insides of her thighs were bruised as well as what
appeared to be a hickey on her neck. Her butt was
jiggling as she washed, but it was also covered with
what appeared to scratch marks made by someone's
fingernails.
She looked in the mirror at me as she said "If you are
going to be a whore, you need to learn how to smoke
cigarettes. Having a cigarette breath in the morning is
a lot better than having a cum breath. For someone
that has her one day off this month, you sure are
wasting time hanging around here. I thought that you
were going to go home to see your mama to give her
some of that money that you have been earning."
It was time to use one of the excuses that the FBI
research team had given me. There was no way to find
out the facts except by asking.
"What is my name?"
She paused to glare at me in the mirror, with her
cigarette hanging out of her mouth, with soap all over
her face as she responded "How the fuck should I
know? Five weeks ago, you told everyone to call you
Bertha. A lot of women here have phony names and I
don't know any of them either."
She continued staring at me through the mirror as she
scrubbed under her hairy armpit. I was sitting on the
bed, with my knees drawled up and my arms around
my knees as I said "I don't know who I am. I woke up
this morning with amnesia."
"With Amy who? Don't fuck with me. You were in bed
with me when I woke up."
"No, I don't have any memory of my past life. I don't
remember who I am or what I am doing here. I have
amnesia, which is a medical term for memory loss."
She put her cigarette on the corner of the dresser,
laying it on one of the existing blacken burnt areas
from previous cigarettes, as she turned to face me. She
said "Look girl. We share a sleeping bed because there
are more whores working here than there are rooms. I
don't really know you and don't like for people to fuck
with my mind. You tell me the truth now."
"I don't know who I am. I woke up this morning,
without any memories."
She stared at me before she softly replied "Somehow, I
believe you. Shit, let me send someone to get Doc
Brown for you. He should be over at his dentist office
by now."
"No, he can't help me. I don't know why, but I must
keep it secret that I lost my memory. If you tell me
what I need to know, then I will try to get my memory
back."
She turned back around, watching me in the mirror as
she rinsed out her washcloth before using the
washcloth to wipe the drying soap from her body.
Looking into the mirror, her voice turned soft as she
said "No one uses their real name here. You wanted to
be called Bertha. You just showed up here on the
doorsteps about five weeks ago, looking for work. You
were almost a virgin, but you caught on quickly.
Because of your youth and willingness to learn, some
of the regulars started asking for you. You never said
where you were from or anything about your family.
All of your belongings are in that little suitcase in the
closet. The clothes on the left belong to you and also
the clothes in this top drawer. Aside from that, you
never said anything about your life."
"Thanks. What is your name?"
"Call me Agnes. I gotta go down to the kitchen to get
me something to eat before I go to work. Got the
afternoon shift today. Sure that you don't want me to
send someone after Doc Brown?"
"No, I will be all right."
******
We talked some more before she dressed and left me
alone. I didn't learn anything more, except that this
whore house was almost in downtown New York City.
She didn't know the date, but thought it was sometime
in June.
I put my nightgown back on before I opened the
hallway door. Looking down the hallway, I could see
what appeared to be a bathroom. I carried the pitcher
down to that room and discovered a big container of
hot water. There was also a big chamber pot that
smelled of stale pee and shit. I sat down on it and
peed, not knowing when I would find another
bathroom. There was no toilet paper, just a Sears
catalog with half of the pages ripped out.
I returned to the bedroom with the warm water and
washed my body; and brushed my hair. I don't know
how she wears it, but I put a simple part in the middle
and brushed it out. Then I opened the top drawer and
looked at the clothes. There were some things that I
recognized as a bustle, a bustier, and a corset.
Remembering my history, I remembered that proper
women wore corsets until about 1910. While this body
did not need the reinforcement of a corset, no self-
respecting woman would be seen in public without one
of the damn things on. If I was going to do what I was
planning, I would have to pretend to be a proper
woman.
There was only one dress in the closet that would fit
me. The three other dresses were too big so they had to
belong to Agnes. After I dressed, I looked at myself in
the mirror.
I saw a beautiful teenage girl, with shoulder-length,
dark hair and a very sexy slim body. I was five foot
three inches tall and probably weighed around ninety
pounds. My dress had a bell-shaped skirt long enough
to cover my ankles, a tight-corseted waist, and a
multi-button blouse that went to my neck, with
balloon long sleeves. There was a matching feather and
ribbon trimmed hat to go with my dress; and a
umbrella to keep the sun from my delicate flesh. I had
a small cloth purse that had almost three hundred
dollars in it, enough to last for a good while in this
much cheaper economy.
I applied a small touch of red make-up to my lips and
to my cheeks; but not as much as I observed Agnes
apply as she was getting ready to go to work.
I walked downstairs and saw Agnes sitting in the lobby
talking to a man as he looked in his billfold, seeing
how much money he had. She winked at me as I
walked by.
******
The streets were dirty. Garbage was simply dumped
out on the streets. The sidewalks smelled like pee and
just walking through the brownstones streets was
enough to make me sick. While I had studied the
differences in lifestyles, I had become so used to the
sanitary guidelines of my time, that this made me sick
to see all of this filth.
When I got on the trolley, some man stood as he
offered me his seat. When the trolley got to the end of
the line, someone else pointed out the Police
Commissioner building to me. I entered the building
and asked someone for directions. After he told me
that it was on the fourth floor, I discovered that this
building did not have an elevator in it yet; although
the first elevator had been installed in a New York City
store in 1857.
It is no fun to walk up four flights of stairs with a
corset on and two inch high heels. I opened the door
and walked into a hot office. Although the windows
were open, there was not much breeze blowing
through. New York City can be miserable in the
summertime with no air conditioning.
A man at a desk said "May I assist you?"
"Yes, I am looking for Mr. Roosevelt. Is he in?"
"Whom shall I say is calling?"
"Bertha Roosevelt. I am a relative."
"Sorry, why didn't you say so. We have so many people
trying to get in to see him to get a job."
He had me wait for about five minutes, then escorted
me down a hallway that creaked with every step on the
old wooden floor. He opened a door, motioning me in.
As I entered the room, a deep voice said "I don't have
any relative name Bertha. Who are you?"
I turned and saw him sitting at a table in front of an
antique typewriter. He had his coat off and his sleeves
rolled up, but it was undoubtedly Theodore Roosevelt,
future President of the United States. That is, if he
lives long enough.
"I am Bertha Roosevelt, only I am not really related to
you. I came here because I need a job and you need
my skills. I am here to help you prepare for your next
job."
"My next job? I need help with this job. Can you type?"
"Of course."
"Bully, because none of those male secretaries can
figure this damn machine out. The job is yours. You
work in my private office at one of the tables. From
now on, you are now my personal secretary."
******
It took me the rest of the day to get used to that damn
typewriter. It was called a Remington, had a cylinder to
hold the paper, an escapement that moved the
carriage after each letter was struck; type-holding rods
that strike the paper; and a keyboard similar to that of
present-day typewriters. But it was so damn slow and
whenever I made a mistake, I had to use an eraser to
correct my mistake.
Teddy was happy with my work and within three days,
I had him caught up in all of his correspondence. At
the same time, I was trying to offer him advice on how
to improve his police departments. Although he
listened to me, he also ignored me because I was only
a woman. What did a mere woman know?
I rented a room in a nearby rooming house because I
did not want to go back to that whorehouse. I also
bought another dress so that I now had two dresses.
After wearing the same dress three days in a row, I
needed something that was clean. While my co-
workers could wear the same clothes two weeks
straight and cover up their body odor with very cheap
cologne, I could not live like that.
I had adopted an outgoing but not flirtatious
personality for this new identity. I discovered that
being a woman was almost the same as being a man. I
got up in the morning, ate breakfast, dressed and went
to work. Because I was so busy with my 12 hour
workdays, I almost forgot that I had changed sexes.
Except that I did not like being treated as a second
class citizen by most of the men in the office. The male
Negro janitors got more respect than I did from some
of my co-workers. I wanted to stand up and scream
that I was a Professor of History sometimes when
someone looked at me as if I was just a dumb woman.
As soon as I resolve this Bailey problem, I think that I
will get very involved in the Women's Rights Movement
and help insure that they get the right to vote in 1918.
******
I had just revised a document that Teddy gave me to
type, except that I added a couple of line items that
were in line with his thinking. As I studied the finished
paper, someone interrupted my thinking "Excuse me,
ma'am. I am Harlan Bailey. Is Mr. Roosevelt in?"
I turned around quickly because Harlan was one of the
ancestors on the list. Standing just inside the door,
was a man in his late forties, wearing patched bib
overalls and a flannel shirt. His hair was greased
down, he hadn't shaved in a week, and his hat was
covered with sweat stains.
I gave a big smile as I replied "He went to a meeting.
May I help you?"
He shuffled his feet a little as he replied "I am here for
the job of carriage driver. Luke over at the livery stable
sent me over here."
"I see. I was not aware that we were looking for
someone. Tell me about yourself."
"Shucks, ma'am. There ain't nothing I can't do. My boy
Earl and I used to work a farm up near Mount Marcy.
We came down to the city to find work. I need to help
Earl get a city job so that he won't have to live the rest
of his life as a farmer."
"Where is Earl?"
"He's right here. Come on in Earl. The young lady
wants to meet you."
A six foot four inch tall young man walked into the
office. He was very handsome and looked to be about
twenty to twenty-five years old. As I looked at the
father and son, I recognized that this was too much of
a coincidence and that one of them was probably Tom
Bailey. If I let them get out of my sight, then it will be
difficult to follow them.
It is only June 18th. I have been here six days. I have
until July 26th to find out which one is really my
fellow time traveler. I had my formula prepared but
could not inject it into just anyone, because it could be
fatal to some people. So I had to be sure who I injected
it into.
"You are hired. In fact, you are both hired. I need an
assistant. Earl looks like a bright young man and I can
teach him how to type."
Chapter 4 - Is it Earl?
Teddy gave me hell but finally gave in because I
volunteered to pay Earl from my own meager salary.
The first day convinced me that Earl had never seen a
typewriter keyboard before. While I could push the
Remington at a respectful 30 words per minute, his
speed was something like one word per minute. Teddy
just looked over his glasses at me, but left it up to me,
to get the work out on schedule.
Very early in the first morning, I discovered that Earl
liked to stare at me. He would try to be discreet, but
some of the time he would just stare at me as if he had
never seen a woman before. Although his actions were
subtle, it was impossible to ignore the frequent bulge
under his trousers from an erection.
I supposed if I had been born a woman, I would have
enjoyed his attraction for me. But I gave up on sex
almost twenty years ago. Somehow, the thought of
allowing a man to stick his cock into me, was not a
very appealing thought.
By lunchtime, Earl was becoming more aggressive in
his actions and comments to me. This made me
nervous. As I reviewed the single page that he had
worked on all morning, he said "I must admit that I
have a hard time thinking of any woman as being my
boss; especially someone as attractive and young as
you. It's so much easier to think sexy thoughts about
you than to think about taking orders from you."
I felt a wave of surprise, even though I had ignored
very similar comments from some of the other men
office workers. I also felt something else. I felt aroused.
Covering up my surprise at my reaction and
embarrassment, I answered "That is a topic that we
must not discuss within this office."
******
About six thirty, I finished my filing and turned
around to see Earl turning the key to Teddy's office
door, locking just me and him in; and anyone else out.
The last person in the outer office had just left and
only the two of us were left in the office.
I was speechless and must have looked like an idiot
with my mouth hanging open. After a few long seconds
of him staring at me intently, I said, "It's time to go
home" and got up.
He shook his head and softly said "Sit back down. We
need to have a talk about personal needs. We also
need to develop a better working relationship."
I was dumbfounded. I knew what was going on, and
didn't like it. Or did I? Although I was nervous and
scared of what he could do to me, I found that I was
feeling new emotions that could only be described as
sexual excitement.
While I wanted to get angry at his assumptions, I
decided that maybe this was my golden opportunity.
My objective was to get close enough to Earl and
Harlan to determine which one of them was really
Tom. If I let Earl become my boyfriend, then I can
spend more time with him and his family.
I admitted to myself, that I was attracted to him and I
did have a woman's body. A woman's body that had
survived six weeks in a whorehouse. Granted, I was
not in it at the time. I became quite scared as I realized
that I really wanted him to seduce me. I felt confused
as I realized that I felt a sexual desire for a man. For a
moment a strong fear cursed through my body making
me feel so naked and scared.
Earl gave me a lewd smile as he sat down on the table
edge next to me. I felt flustered when he winked at me.
I felt weak and powerless, as I tried to hide my
trembling. He stared at me while I prepared myself to
let him do whatever he wanted to do to me.
"How come an attractive woman like you, ain't
married?"
"Never met a man that interested me."
"Is that so? Does that include me? I know it can't
because we just met. I get along good with women. All
women. Say, is it true, what Hodkins is saying about
you?"
"I don't know what Hodkins is saying about anything.
We just pass each other in the hall and don't talk."
"Hodkins likes to .... shall I say, play around a little.
He visits some of the bawdy houses and thinks that he
saw you working in one of the big ones over near
Fourteenth."
"I have too much respect for myself to ever do that." I
honestly replied.
He smiled. Speaking slowly, softly, and deliberately,
"Yep, I could tell that you are a lady of respect. But
there are some other things that I can tell about you
too. I know what you want, and I know that you want
me. I saw it in your eyes. You stared at my erection as
if you had never seen a boner before. Yes, ma'am, I
know what you want and need. You turn me on. And I
know that I can turn you on. I am a big man in many
ways and I can make you feel so good inside."
He stared into my eyes for a moment before he stood
up and walked behind me, placing his large farmer's
hands on my shoulders. I felt a wave of sexual arousal
flow through me, with that sensitive touch.
As he rubbed my shoulders, he whispered "I want to
see your naked breasts, Bertha. I want to taste your
nipples."
One of his hands continued rubbing my shoulder, but
the other one drifted down to where it was rubbing the
area just above the breasts. I did not react and
pretended not to have noticed it, as he continued his
gentle rubbing motion. Under my corset, I could feel a
sensation that I could only attribute to my nipples
becoming erect under the very confining garment.
Earl made a slow, subtle motion, shifting his body
slightly so that he was standing beside me, with his
legs spread apart. I found myself looking at the bulge
of his erection in his pants.
Slowly he pulled me up to a standing position as he
bent over to kiss me. For a moment our lips met, then
our tongues intertwined as we shared our passion for
each other.
With one motion, he pushed all the paperwork off the
desk as he said "I wants you to take out my big, long
cock and hold it in your warm hands. I want you feel
how big it is. How warm it is. I want you to think
about how nice it will feel inside you. You want me to
fuck you, don't you. You want my big cock to slide up
your pretty, tight pussy as I play with your ass with
my fingers. Have you ever been finger fucked in your
asshole, Bertha. You will like it because I will be
stroking my hot cock in your wet pussy at the same
time."
I groaned as a shudder shook my body and a warm
wet sensation filled some secret spot deep inside me. I
stepped closer to him and tried to put my leg around
his leg, but my tight skirt prevented me from climbing
on top of him.
At that moment, I knew that I had just let him know
that he could do anything that he wanted to do to me.
He pushed me down on the table with him on top of
me. He was squirming all over me as he pushed his
tongue down my throat and passionately kissed me for
a minute. I could not resist, and embraced him as he
fondled my ass through my clothes as he ground his
cock against my hungry body.
"I like you. And you like me if you won't admit it now.
You know what you want and go after it, don't you.
You want me to fuck you. You want me to stick my
cock as far up your pussy as I can get it, don't you.
Tell me you want me. Talk dirty to me. Tell me to fuck
you, my young firm titty Bertha." he commanded,
using a mixture of heavy grunts mingled with the
words.
I was sucking on his neck and ignored him. He pulled
himself loose and stood up as he angrily said "Listen,
woman. If you want me, you have play the game. I
don't want a lady in my bedroom. I want a woman that
let's it all hang out. A woman that shows me that she
wants it too. Now, you can be your little polite, virgin
child at work, but when you are in bed with me, you
have to be a woman. Understand."
I looked him straight in the eyes, knowing that my
green eyes must be flashing as I said in my most
seductive, husky voice "Fuck me. Fuck me now with
that big cock. I want you. I want to feel your cock slide
into my wet pussy. I want to feel that big, slippery
shaft slide into me as you hump me."
He ripped a couple of buttons on my blouse as he
helped me undress. Or rather as he pulled my clothes
off of me. Within seconds, he had me down to my knee
high sockings, which he left on me as I helped him get
out of his suit. It was very easy to undress him,
because he didn't wear any underwear under his wool
suit.
He picked me up and placed me on Teddy's big desk
after knocking everything off of it. His cock was fully
hard and sticking straight out from his body as he
whispered "Yeah, you love my cock. It get hard when
you stroke it. Yeah, like that. Put your other hands
down on my balls and tickle them. Oh, god, that feels
so good. You are making me so hard. Stroke me
slower. Yeah, let me feel your soft palm as you slide
your hand up and down my hard shaft. Talk to me,
Bertha."
"I need you to fuck me. I can't wait to feel it as you
pump your wet, spurting cum all over my boobs. I
want to watch it shoot out all over my body. I will
watch your hard cock jerk as the creamy, white semen
spurts out. I will let it ooze down my body. My body
will be coated with your creamy, white, thick sperm all
over it. I will rub it with my hands, smearing your
slippery jism onto my body."
I felt drunk with desire for him. As I stroked his cock,
he put his hands on my breasts and slowly pushed me
down so that I was lying back on the big, hard
desktop. I slowly spread my legs, exposing my naked
crotch, hoping that he was ready to explore that
hungry area. Instead, he placed his hands on my
breasts as he slowly began to caress and tease the very
sensitive mounds of female flesh bouncing on my
chest.
I felt him climb up on the desktop and straddle me as
he rubbed my breasts with his rough hands. Then I
felt something quite strange but very wonderful as the
most intense orgasm that I had ever experience roared
through my body, causing me to shake and shudder
as it ripped through me. I could faintly hear myself
moan.
He gave me a couple of seconds to enjoy that
wonderful feeling and then he shifted his body as he
rubbed his hard cock against my breasts and nipples.
Then with his hands, he pushed my breasts together,
forming a tunnel of my breast flesh that he used to
stroked his cock with. I started shaking again and he
dragged his cock down my stomach, where he paused
as he pressed it into my belly button. Then he changed
position so that his big cock was swinging only inches
above my pussy.
I spread my legs allowing him to put his muscular legs
between mine; then I slightly shifted position so that
my legs were raised and bent. He positioned his cock
between my legs, before he pushed that rock hard
shaft inside me. At the first touch of it against my
vagina, I jerked as I felt that now familiar wetness flow
through me. He slowly pushed it, causing just a
moment of friction that was quickly replaced with the
most wonderful sensation.
I just laid there, as he began to slowly and deliberately
fuck me. I could feel his big and I do mean big, cock
push deep into me and then try to withdraw as my
grasping pussy tried to hold onto his cock. It didn't
take too many of those push/pull motions, until we
both increased the pace of our humping. As he stroked
it in me, my hips moved up to meet him. As he
withdrew, I would pull back somewhat before I would
quickly rise to meet him again. He would lift himself
up slightly so that only the cockhead was in me, and I
would rotate my hips as he re-entered me, making his
cock bend and squirm as it forced itself back deep
inside me. And then I wanted to scream as another
intense orgasm exploded inside me.
He shifted into a pushup position so I could see his
large, purple cock slide in and out of my wet pussy.
His cock was wet with my juices. My pubic hair was
glistening wet from my secretions that had dripped
from his dick.
He dropped down from his pushup position so that he
was resting on his elbows and his hairy chest was
rubbing against my tender nipples. He put his hands
in my hair and started giving me hard and long
strokes as his tongue forced it's way into my mouth. I
started matching his rhythm but he dropped more of
his weight on my body so that I was not able to move
much as he increased his stroke power. With each
deep stroke, I could feel his ball sac slap against my
ass.
Then I felt him tense. As the first hot, burning load of
semen pumped into my body, I felt another orgasm
coming on. I started to scream but his hand muffled
me as the spasm after spasm of cum gushed deep into
me.
Chapter 5 - Or is it Harlan?
After we dressed, we cleaned up our mess. It was easy
to put everything back on the desk, but there were
pussy juice stains on Teddy's leather desk blotter that
would not come out. Finally we got it as clean as it was
going to get and left it. Earl escorted me to my
boarding house room, where I fell into the most
relaxed sleep that I have had since I time jumped back
to this time.
I had the most wonderful dream. I dreamed that Earl
had two big cocks and somehow he was able to fuck
me as I sucked the other one. I don't remember how it
was done, only that I woke up remembering how
realistic the dream seemed.
My vagina still smelled musky and I had to wash twice
until I was comfortable with the smell. I needed a
douche, but didn't know where to buy one or how to
make one. My inner legs were tender and had just one
little spot that came close to being called a bruise. And
my vagina was very tender, as were my breasts from
his rough face.
I put on my other suit, knowing that I would have to
come home tonight to repair the one that Earl ripped
as he undressed me. I quickly dressed and walked to
work, wanting to get there before Teddy came in.
When I walked into his office, he was already sitting at
his desk, reading something. "Good morning. That
young man may just learn how to type after all. That
was a good decision to hire him. After he gets trained, I
will find some other duties for you. I like the way that
you write and some of your ideals. Only we can't let
anyone know that you are assisting me with my
writings. Too many people think that this is a man's
world."
******
Earl and I didn't say much to each other all day. I
would look up and find him staring at me. As soon as
he would catch my eye, he would smile at me. About
10 am, Teddy said "Bertha, I need you to take this
paper up to my cousin's country house. Let him look
at it. While he is looking at it, you can go over to my
nearby weekend house and relax for a couple of hours.
I will have Harlan drive you in my carriage up there."
"I don't mind driving her." quickly said Earl.
Teddy adjusted his glasses on his nose and frowned as
he answered "You need to learn how to type."
******
The carriage ride out to the country was uneventful. I
tried to talk to Harlan but only got "Un-hun" or "Un-
Un" from him. It was almost as if I was talking to a
stone wall. We were in a small horse carriage and I
was on the front seat with Harlan, which was very
uncomfortable. Not only was there the frequent strong
smell from very fresh horse droppings, but Harlan
liked to chew a big wad of tobacco. I think that he
didn't talk much because he couldn't move his tongue
around the big wad of tobacco in his mouth. About
every four or five hundred feet, he would spit a big
thick stream of tobacco juice at something on the side
of the road.
We got out to Teddy's cousin's place about 11:30. He
looked at Teddy's paper; as he told me that he would
bring an answer over by 4 PM to Teddy's house. He
gave me the key as he gave directions to Harlan.
This was not Teddy's main country house, but was one
that he used for a quick weekend in the country. No
one was there, but we found some food in the kitchen
and I made us some sandwiches. While I was fixing the
food, Harlan pulled out a bottle of whisky that he had
brought with him. We went out onto the front porch
and sat in the swing, feeling the refreshing summer
breeze as we ate our lunch. He offered me a drink of
the whisky but I did not want any.
"How's my boy doing?" suddenly asked Harlan, saying
something for the first time. Must be the whiskey
talking.
"Good. He should be a good typist by the end of the
week. He learns quickly."
"I want to thank you for giving us a job. My wife is very
happy that you are helping us."
"I didn't know that you were married. I assumed it was
just you and Earl."
"No. It was my wife's ideal that we move down here.
She had enough of the farm life and wanted to see our
boy where he could make something of himself. Ever
since she talked to that preacher last week, she has
been after me, to move down here. I love my wife, even
with her curse."
I looked at him with a puzzled look and asked "Curse?"
A flash of embarrassment crossed his unshaven face
as he said "Yes ma'am. I calls it a curse; she calls it a
blessing. About two years ago, she got religion mighty
bad, refusing to let me sleep in the same bed with her.
Calls it a sin because it permits fornication. The
preacher convienced her it was a bad thing to do, even
with her own husband. She sits at night in her
bedroom, praying as I sleep in the barn."
******
The summer breeze, the full belly, and the fact that I
had a long previous night, was enough for me to go
upstairs and find a cool bedroom. I opened the
windows and let the refreshing breeze blow through as
I stripped down to my panties. You cannot sleep with a
corset on. Then I pulled a sheet over me and went to
sleep.
It was another wild and realistic dream about Earl
fucking me. He was rubbing his cock around my face
and I was trying to catch it with my mouth but
couldn't. Then he grabbed my wrist, pulled my arms
up and....
I woke up. Not from the dream, but because my arms
were being pulled up. I looked up to see Earl pulling a
rope tight against the bed and I felt a pain as the rope
tightened against my wrist. I struggled, but he pulled
harder. I tried to kick him, but my feet had already
been tied. I trashed on the bed but couldn't move
because of the way that his ropes pulled me spread-
eagled on the bed.
"Harlan, let me go now and I will forget this. I
promise."
He finished tying the knot that he wanted on the
headboard before he picked up his whiskey bottle. He
turned it up, taking a big drink, letting some of the
whiskey dribble down his chin. Then he threw the
empty bottle to the floor, wiping his chin as he looked
at me, with a wild look in his eyes.
"Harlan, don't do this to me."
"It ain't right, even if it is God's word. A man needs a
woman. The woman has to take care of her man's
needs. I got a woman, but she don't take care of me.
She refuses to let me touch her. It ain't right. I need a
woman to take care of me."
"Harlan, cut me free. Now." I screamed as I pulled at
my bonds.
"Fucking woman needs to be taught her rightful place.
I give her everything and get nothing back." he
grumbled as he removed his boots.
"You can go to jail for this. Do you know that? Harlan,
are you listening to me." I tried to say in a calm, cool,
collected voice as he kicked his boots across the room.
I watched as he pulled down his bib overalls, revealing
a very dirty pair of long underwear. I could see
numerous pee stains on the once white cotton
underwear that he wears for weeks before washing.
He ignored me as he pulled off his underwear. Then he
picked up a knife and cut my panties at the side so
that they fell off of me. He threw the knife into the
floor, causing it to vibrate as it stuck into the wooden
floor.
He took the wad of tobacco out of his mouth and laid it
on the bedside stand as he climbed on the bed and
straddled my stretched body. He looked down at me,
with a mad glaze to his eyes as he whispered "A man's
gotta do what a man's gotta do. I need this. I need this
bad. I wanted to do this to you when I first saw you
sitting so pretty at that desk. You don't know what it
felt like, to ride up here beside you. With the wind
blowing your hair. Smelling that good perfume that
you use. Looking at your calves as you lifted your skirt
to climb in the buggy. You don't know what you did to
me. I am a man. No matter what my wife says or
doesn't do. I have to have a woman. I got these strong
desires that I can't control. You don't know what it is
like to be a man and to see a fine young filly like you.
To look at your slender waist and to watch your bosom
heave as you breath. To see you naked like this and to
know that I can have you. No, I know what I am
doing."
He put his hand on my naked breast. But it was a soft
touch, a very gentle touch. Then he slowly bent over,
forming an "O" with his mouth as he stared at one of
my nipples. He slowly approached it, letting his breath
blow against the nipple long before his lip gently
touched the nipple. Then he slowly wrapped his lips
around the nipple, not sucking, just holding my nipple
in his wet mouth as his warm breath flowed around
my breast from his nose. For almost thirty seconds, he
sat like that, with just my nipple in his mouth.
Then he fell on me as his body collapsed. The dead
weight wasn't that much but the sudden shock almost
knocked the breath out of me. As I gasped for breath, I
could hear him sobbing. He was lying on my breast
and crying. I said "Shh. It's all right. Untie me and talk
to me."
He laid on me for over a minute, crying. Then he rolled
off the bed, picking up his empty whisky bottle. He
dropped it to the floor with a clank as he said "I am
out of courage. I can't get it up and the bottle is
empty."
He picked up the knife, slicing through a rope, which
released me. He dropped the knife to the floor, then
stumbled over to a chair. After I untied myself, I looked
at him. He was sitting naked in the chair, sobbing to
himself.
I walked over to the chair, sitting on the big armrest. I
pulled his head up and buried his dirty head between
my bare breasts as he sobbed "I didn't mean it. I
wouldn't hurt you for nothing. It was the whisky. And
my wife's curse. Please forgive me."
"I know that you wouldn't rape anyone. You and your
wife need help." as I looked at his very soft and small
cock. Earl might want to look into his parentage
because he surely did not inherit his very large cock
from Harlan's side of the family.
As I slid down the chair so that I was looking into his
eyes, I said "I know what you need. I know the strong
feelings that you have but can't find release. I
understand your male needs so well that I don't have
to ask you what you want. I understand why you tried
to rape me and I forgive you. I also have desires. I will
help you, but you must let me take control of you. I
will do to you what you want, but I will do it when I
want to. For the next hour, you must yield totally to
my sexual simulation. I'll keep you hot, hard, and
throbbing for a long, long time; as I delay your orgasm
so that your ecstasy builds beyond anything you've
ever had before. It will be the best orgasm you've ever
experienced."
He didn't say a word as I slowly moved around to the
front of the chair so that my breasts were touching his
bare knees as I kneeled down. I wasn't sure exactly
what I was going to do. Then I remembered that night
years ago when I hired the prostitute for an all-nighter.
I couldn't get it up at first. She found a way to get my
cock hard.
I started tickling the insides of his legs, with my
fingernails, knowing that simple motion would cause
him to spread his legs as wide as I needed. I blew with
my breath on his inside leg hair as my fingers slowly
snaked up his legs before I slowly eased them back
down again.