Time Differences

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.