Cliff Stone stood to one side with his arms crossed, while Professor Wot tinkered at the square control column at the centre of the wide room. Banks of computers and displays surrounded them, although what they told the old man, Cliff could not say. They had only recently survived their previous adventure in Earth's distant past, and now they were apparently coming in for another landing.
Cliff glanced over, as the Professor's 18-year old grand-daughter, Suzanne, entered the room from the single doorway on the other side. Suzanne was one of Cliff's pupils, but her school uniform had quite literally been destroyed during their previous excursion, and she had taken the opportunity to put on something of her own choosing: it was a white, sleeveless dress in some kind of smooth plastic-like material. The dress was so short that the edge of the hem only just brushed the lower edges of her buttocks. Below this, she wore high-heeled boots in the same material, that came up past her knees, leaving a narrow section of smooth, tanned thigh visible in between. Cliff's eyes were drawn to that strip of flesh, but Suzanne affected not notice, smiling in the direction of her grandfather as she walked around the control column towards them. With one hand, she reached down and scratched her leg, in the process somehow flipping up the hem of her skirt, and flashing 3-4 inches of yellow thong.
Cliff stared at her crotch for the few seconds it was visible, and then quickly looked away, blushing. When he dared to look back, Suzanne was standing in front of him, her legs slightly parted and a hand on one hip, while she cocked her head and smiled at him. "Why Mr Stone," she purred, "anybody would think you hadn't seen me completely naked."
Before Cliff could form a coherent reply, the Professor interrupted them with a brief burst of activity and the exclamation, "this is it, we're landing!"
There was a juddering sound and the grinding of ancient engines, and then everything went quiet. Cliff looked over to see their other travelling companion enter, his long-term colleague and regular feature of his sexual fantasies, the prim and proper Miss Lola McGovern. She had also become rather dishevelled during their encounter with the cavemen, but although her dowdy cardigan was long gone, she had done repairs to her blouse and skirt and pinned her hair back up to the point where she could have walked straight back into Fail Hill School and not stood out in the slightest. She had even re-located her glasses and had put them on the end of her nose. She was now looking over them towards the control column, apparently entirely failing to notice Cliff.
Cliff sighed. Lola was not very pleased with him at the moment, and that seemed unlikely to change. He remembered his own torn and semen-stained trousers, and considered fixing them. He had done his national service, and was quite handy with a needle and thread.
"Now," said the Professor, "let's see where we are." One of the instrument panels contained a monitor screen which now began to glow, and Lola stepped forwards with tense anticipation. The old man had already told the two twentieth century teachers that he could not get them back home, but still Lola held out some hope. Instead of London however, the image resolved to show what looked like some kind of dense jungle.
The Professor frowned, but he said "interesting," and operated another control which opened the large double doors that led to the outside world. He glanced around the room at the others. "Let's take a look, shall we?"
***
When the travellers stepped outside, everything was totally silent. The jungle had looked normal on the screen, but at closer range they could see that everything was grey and colourless. Cliff rubbed a leaf between his fingers and it crumbled to dust.
"Extraordinary," said the Professor. "Everything petrified - practically turned to stone. And no animal life by the sounds of things, either."
Cliff nodded. The silence was eerie. Apart from a slight wind through the branches, nothing moved.
"Professor, where have you brought us?" asked Lola. Her disappointment was palpable. "I just want to go home."
"I know, my dear. Perhaps if I can calibrate..." his voice trailed off, while he looked around in fascination. "What could cause this, hmm? A neutron bomb?"
"Are we in the future, Professor?" asked Cliff.
"Future... past, it makes no difference my boy. We are no longer on your Earth. We could be a whole galaxy away."
Suzanne walked up and touched his elbow. "Come on, don't scare them Gramps. We need to get some rest."
"Yes... Yes, of course. Let's have some food and sleep and then come at this again in the morning. This way, this way." The old man led them back into the Pisspot.
He took them all to a small kitchen area, where a huge dispenser released blocks of processed food for them. "Professor," said Cliff as he nibbled one, "do we have to stay here? Can't we try again?"
"We'll discuss it in the morning, Mr Pebble..."
"Stone."
"Hmm, quite." The old man essayed an enormous yawn. "Well, I'm turning in. Good night all," and he shuffled out.
Suzanne shook her head and grinned. "Gramps just doesn't want to admit he has no idea where we've landed. Well, you know where your rooms are." She stopped at the door, turned and looked back at Cliff. "... And where mine is, of course. You know, if you need anything in the night."
Cliff could feel Lola's eyes on him. "Yes, thank you Miss Patterson," he said, "I'm sure that won't be necessary."
Suzanne smirked and left.
Cliff turned to look at his erstwhile colleague. "Lola," he began.
"Yes, thank you, Mr Stone," she said, very formally. "I'm really very tired. I'll see you in the morning." And then she swept out.
Cliff sighed and sat at the kitchen table by himself. One way or another, it looked like being a lonely evening.
***
The next morning, he woke again on the strange little bunk that constituted virtually the only furniture in his "own" little room. He'd slept rather badly, but then the last 24 hours had been amongst the strangest in his whole life. As he sat up, he realised that he had developed morning 'wood'. Given recent events, he considered rubbing one out, but he didn't even have a spare sock or a tissue to collect the resultant mess, and he decided against it.
He got dressed quickly. The Professor had offered him a spare pair of pyjamas, but Cliff had declined. Wearing the old man's cast offs did not appeal, and generally he preferred to sleep in the nude. He took his time in the small bathroom down the hall. The previous day, the Professor had shown him the strange paste that dispensed from the wall and cleaned his teeth for him. Once his nether regions had calmed down, he had a piss and then returned to the control room.
Everyone else was sat in the kitchen, just off the main room, and engaged in what appeared to be a very intense discussion. Lola was standing, glaring angrily at the old man and his grand-daughter.
"What do you mean," said Lola, "we can't go anywhere?"
"What's going on?" asked Cliff. Everyone ignored him.
"I'm sorry my dear," said the Professor, spreading his hands placatingly, "the Pisspot is on its last reserves of power, enough to keep the lights on, but not to get us anywhere."
