Note- Further adventures in time on the greatest and most secret project, the Time Tunnel, with former porn star Sarah Young.
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Sarah Young wrinkled her pretty nose as the foul smelling soup of mud, garbage and animal droppings assaulted her nostrils. The odd chicken pecked at the dust on the ground and a mutt sniffed her shoe then walked off.
The time traveller had appeared from the vortex in a rather putrid and hot city in what seemed to her to be the seventeenth century. Scruffily dressed citizens came and went about their business and on occasion gave her sneers and arrogant looks as they passed her.
"Salope!" Said an old bent over crone as she crept by in rags.
Sarah looked around and discovered that she was seated on a wooden bench outside some sort of tavern. It looked busy inside as the sun set low in the summer sky.
France again she thought, seems like she had travelled in time but not distance this time. The last jump through the corridors of time had sent her to 1770, and the court of the horrid Marquis De Sade, where she had been submitted to obscene and harsh treatment. The strange manner of travelling in the time tunnel meant that she didn't seem to suffer any long lasting ill effects. Indeed, she felt fine, no bruises or abrasions of any kind, and her bottom didn't feel like it had been assaulted with a whip.
Sarah was also constantly amazed that her attire changed to suit each different period she visited. She felt her head and found she wore a powdered wig over her mass of tight curls. It had side swept bangs, a teased crown and a curly ponytail.
Dressed to the nines in a formal and elegant mint green dress of lace and satins with a ruffled neckline and hem she felt quite the lady. Sheer half sleeves came to her elbows and on her hands she had a pair of green gloves. A tulle petticoat came down in a flattering V shape from bust to waist in embroidered gold, and around her back Sarah felt a bow at the base of her spine. Thigh high white stockings covered her shapely pins with satin bows at the top and her delicate feet were in white shoes with solid two inch heels and buckles on the toes. Around her sexy neck she felt a lace choker.
Suddenly Sarah was brought back to reality when a hen clucked loudly and four costumed men cast a shadow over her. Some sort of soldiers she thought, all with identical blood red tabards slit from the shoulders, and plain black trousers.
"Is this the woman?" Asked the first man.
"Must be, are you Madame De Bonnacieux?" Said another.
Bewildered and not knowing where she was the English girl nonetheless stayed calm.
"You've got the wrong person, I'm named Sarah, from London."
"Is that right? Tell us what you know woman, otherwise..."
Sarah yelped when she was grabbed by a man behind her and another by her left side.
"Get off of me, let me go!"
She was tugged to and fro roughly, then the first man gripped her face hard in one leather gauntlet gloved hand and squeezed her mouth together.
"When I say or else I mean this!"
With an almighty wrench he ripped the bodice of Sarah's dress so that her huge breasts tumbled free from their confinement.
"No, not that, I'm not the one you want." Protested the frightened girl.
"My my, she's a comely one and no mistake." A small fat soldier licked his greasy lips.
The man leered at the impressive globes that hung large on Sarah's tiny frame as she wriggled in the firm hold on her arms.
"Unhand the lady you villains!" A voice boomed.
The scoundrels turned to see three debonair men, fencing swords drawn.
"We are musketeers of the King. Be you rogues under orders of that devilish Cardinal Richelieu?"
Without another word the men ran off and scurried off through the throng of people.
"Cowards! You are lucky I didn't carve you up!" Yelled the eldest looking musketeer after them.
Shivering with fear Sarah tried to cover her bosom with the torn front of the dress and petticoat. The tall dashing man with dirty blonde coloured hair and vivid blue eyes smiled down on Sarah.
"Good morrow Milady, how do you fare?"
He lowered his rapier and doffed his wide brimmed cavalier hat with the white feather on the left side. He twiddled his long moustache as he stood up to his full height.
His ivory shirt was flouncy with a wide collar and puffy long sleeves gathered in at the wrists. Over the top he had a sleeveless tunic of dark brown with some emblem on the chest. The breeches were full around the mans thighs, then tighter just below the knee where his black leather boots came up to.
"Forgive me Sire, I don't...that is I..."
"Are you harmed good lady?"
"No, I don't think so." Sarah gulped and regained her composure.
"The scoundrels asked you to reveal information. What secret do you carry that makes you to be violated?"
The charming man helped her to her feet.
"I am mistaken for someone else, my name is Sarah Young."
"Greetings Lady Sarah, D'Artagnan of Gascony at your service. And these two are named Athos and Aramis, they are Bearnese. We serve King Louis."
D'Artagnan! The three Musketeers! Sarah was thrilled. She had read the story by Dumas when she was a little girl and thought the character romantic and handsome. She guessed the year must be around 1625. There was something at the back of her mind of a plot or trap that the Cardinal was to set with the aid of Milady De Winter.
