Explicit-Novel

The Time Riders: Part 16 To further the science. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. There was a knock at the door and Valentina came in, pushing a silver cart in front of herself. "Thought it might be time for refreshments," she chirped, her cheerful brown eyes not at all fazed by the scene in front of her. She looked at Becky. "I figured you might find some electrolytes handy, so I have green smoothies, strawberry-banana smoothies, coconut water, and OJ. That should fit the bill, right?" "Thank you so much, Val," Becky said, not at all bothered by being naked in front of this girl. Clearly it wasn't out of the ordinary, so she didn't care. Not to mention she'd referred to Mike and Karen as 'Master' and 'Mistress', so there was more to her employment than met the eye. Nanu was staring at Val's outfit again, making Val giggle. She left the cart and approached the tiny Egyptian girl now, smiling. "Watch this, Nanu," she said before pulling her arms into her chest and doing on spin, her short skirt flaring out and twirling around her, revealing her tiny black panties. Nanu clapped excitedly, her eyes wide with delight. "Great, now she'll want to own one of those outfits," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry for the fib I'm about to tell about you, Val." She looked at Nanu. "It's a pretty outfit, yes, but it's a slave's outfit, darling." The Egyptian girl blinked. "She is a slave?" "Can't you see the collar she's wearing?" Becky pointed out, indicating Val's black lace choker, with the glittering white stone on the front. "She; is a slave to the gods?" Nanu murmured, lapsing into thought about that before looking back at Becky. "Well, that doesn't sound so bad, does it? We should become their slaves." Karen broke down giggling, hiding her face in her husband's massive arm and kicking her feet cutely. Mike just smirked while Becky sighed and rolled her eyes. Valentina had no idea what had just been said, but based on her employers' reactions, whatever it was hadn't panned out as Becky intended. She decided to make herself scarce. "scuse me, servant stuff to do," she chimed, doing a curtsy before leaving and closing the door behind her. Nanu sat up, straddling Mike's waist and trying to figure out why the goddess was laughing. "Really?" Becky groused, giving Nanu a sour look. "I rescue you from slavery, and you decide to volunteer for it because it's these two?" "Do you blame me?" Nanu said with a shrug. "As long as I get fed and fucked, this seems like a good life with pretty clothing." "You do not need to be a slave for us to do that with you, Nanu," Karen pointed out, caressing her arm. "Well, nobody's fucked me yet," Nanu announced, trying to pout rather unsuccessfully. "What good is being a free woman if it doesn't get me cock when I need it?" "I see food and sex are her two primary drivers," Mike mused. "And possibly revenge," Becky added, watching as Nanu reached behind herself and took hold of the currently soft cock and began massaging it. "If you see her whispering into her palm, shit's about to get real. Honey, that might not be a good idea." "They said I don't need to be a slave to fuck them," Nanu replied, still stroking and now fingering herself, as if to get ready. "I want to be fucked." "Let the chips fall where they may, I guess," Becky said, sitting up and moving around the bed to join Karen. Soon, they were in a sapphic tangle, limbs wrapped around one another and kissing deeply. Nanu watched while she stroked the god's cock, slowly bringing him to life. Karen was on top of Becky now, sitting up and straddling with their legs scissored and their wet pussies kissing. She began to squirm her hips, and Becky did the same, groaning in pleasure. "Hmm, missed this too," she murmured. "As did I," Karen sighed, pulling Becky's leg up so that it was braced against her with her toes in the air. They slowly slithered together, nether lips mingling, clits brushing against one another. They were both wet enough that they could hear their lovemaking. The god was hard now, and Nanu was determined to do this right. She moved backward and pushed up as tall as she could on her knees, her cunt directly over the huge cockhead. She pressed against it and moved around, making sure she was good and wet. She felt the tip just push her lips apart slightly, and inched her way down. She bit her lower lip as the pressure increased, feeling a very slow penetration. She gasped and shuddered as the head went inside, stretching her in a way she hadn't felt before, except with a fist. There was an audible, wet and almost gristly 'pop' noise, followed by another from somewhere inside her hips structure as she sank down and sat very still. Becky and the two professors looked at her somewhat curiously. "Nanu?" Becky asked. "You okay, darling?" The tiny girl didn't respond, still staring off into space, her eyes unseeing. Finally, a single tear was trickling down her cheek. "Oh, well done, Ramrod," Karen said rather sarcastically to her husband, still looking at Nanu. "Even if you didn't break her in half, she's still going to have hip dysplasia." "I didn't make her do it," Mike pointed out. "I hope we have a wheelchair around, though." The Egyptian girl finally opened her eyes, slowly, and took several deep breaths, her palms resting on the god's muscular abdomen. She looked up at the ceiling, puckering her lips and making sucking sounds as she tried to center herself. She trembled as she pushed up on her knees, starting to move, and then shook almost violently as she sank back down. She squeaked and then whimpered, going still. Then she repeated the process, taking it slow. "Well, I'll be damned," Becky mused as she watched, still grinding her cunt against Karen's. "She actually did it and didn't kill herself. She'll be trying to sit on fire hydrants next." Nanu didn't make it more than three strokes up and down before she clapped her and over her mouth and screamed into it, her entire body shaking as she came. Once she'd recovered, she began moving up and down again, a little faster, determined to have at least one more orgasm before she died. She straightened her torso and kept moving up and down, her eyes closed and a shameless moaning escaping her lips. She lasted a little longer this time, but still ended up clamping both hands over her mouth and screeching, almost convulsing before she simply wilted, collapsing forward on to the god beneath her, eyes wide open but unseeing, chest heaving as she tried to breathe. "Determined little thing, isn't she?" Karen mused, looking on, even while she made love to Becky. How she'd missed this feeling with her favorite student. "You'd have to be, to survive what she did pretty much her whole life," the blonde replied with a sigh, undulating beneath her teacher. "She's such a sweetheart, but she surprises me sometimes with a brutal mercenary streak. And her morals are; decidedly different from ours." "Noted," Karen said before leaning down and kissing Becky heatedly, squashing their tits together. They were swallowing one another's tongues, grinding and girl-fucking their way to bliss, until Becky wailed into Karen's mouth, cumming hard. Karen followed moments later, bathing Becky's cunt in her sticky essence. They wrapped themselves up in one another, kissing deeply and just enjoying the shared post-orgasm bliss. It had been too long, and Becky would do her damndest to make sure that didn't happen again. She almost giggled through the kiss as she thought about the fact that she had access to a time machine, if she really needed to see to the issue. She and Karen rolled themselves together into Mike's side, snuggling into him while Nanu seemed quite content to simply remain motionless on top of him. Given that she was almost bolted down to his cock, she might not have had much of a choice in the matter, mind. "You okay there, Prof?" Becky asked, smirking up at him while she caressed her other idol. "Might've been a while since I've been in anyone quite this tight," Mike replied, smiling and pretending to wince, as if being clamped inside Nanu was somehow painful. "Excuse you, sir," Karen chimed, trying to sound indignant, but failing as she giggled. "Am I to understand I am not tight enough for you?" "You're the perfect amount of tightness, Gordon, and you know it," the huge blond man said, reaching over and caressing his wife's ass cheeks. Karen purred contentedly at the contact, snuggling into Becky even more. Becky sighed, because she loved watching the profs together. She'd never seen two people more desperately in love, or more perfect for one another. "So is it just you and Nanu in your little arrangement?" Karen asked, looking down at her student and gently poking her nose. "Well," Becky began before offering a weak smile. "It's complicated?" "Given what a hard time you had earlier, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised," mused the older woman, smiling kindly. "Are you hiding another girl from elsewhere in the world?" "No," Becky said, blushing. "I;” If she couldn't tell these two, who could she tell? "There might be an angle with one of my students," she confessed. "Rebecca Nightingale Fischer," Karen said, her smile becoming a smirk. "You and a student? You naughty girl. Not that Michael and I are in any place to judge, of course." "Don't I know it," Becky giggled. "Yeah, there is. Or there will be. I don't know how to explain it." "One of those moments again, clearly," Mike said, his other hand stroking down Nanu's back. She looked positively tiny on top of him, like a kitten gone to sleep. She was stirring and slowly coming back to life. "Don't try too hard, Rebecca." "Yes sir," she said rather reflexively, but she also enjoyed the little tingle she always got from obeying him. "Mark and I, and Nanu, will be a thing by the time summer rolls around." "M-ark?" Nanu mum

The Time Riders: Part 15 Modern Servitude Compared To Ancient. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Mooredale Secondary. Becky was pinching her eyes as she listened to one of her students try to explain how light was both a wave and a particle. He was saying 'umm...' so often that she began to think she was listening to the Prime Minister. Well, that wasn't fair, the PM was a Gen X'er, it was kind of their thing and all of them did it, with a few notable exceptions. "Thank you, Cory, please sit down before you hurt yourself," she sighed, sitting up straight while the students all snickered at Cory. He sat, blushing. Becky put her glasses back on. She didn't need them, but she thought it helped with the image she meant to convey. "People, I gave you this assignment over two weeks ago, and you need to be able to articulate this on your final exam. Does anyone know how to answer this question?" Becky groaned inwardly when Gina Felton put her hand up. She gestured resignedly for the student to stand. "Light acts or can be measured as a particle or a wave depending on when and how you try to observe it," the smarmy student began. Becky, along with most of the students, just shut their eyes. The bell didn't ring soon enough for Becky's liking, but she needed to get these twerps out of here. "Don't forget, assignments on radiation due tomorrow!" she called after them while they all hurried out of the classroom. She wished she actually kept a bottle of whiskey in her desk drawer sometimes. Mark had avoided looking at her as he left, as if trying to dodge a velociraptor. Thank God she couldn't get out of eventually giving him a passing grade, because he definitely didn't deserve anything more than a Z-minus. "Another day with the peerless minds of the future?" she heard Kay drawl from the door. "Don't worry, babe, moron students have always been a thing. Do you know about a TV show called 'Welcome Back, Kotter'?" "Yeah, I used to watch reruns of it with my dad was I was little," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "These kids aren't funny enough to be Sweathogs, though." "Maybe, but you get through to the ones that count," the older woman said, strolling in and pulling a chair around to sit in backward, straddling the seat and resting her arms on the back. "They can't all be thick as shit, can they?" "Most of them are in your classes too, so you have the same info I do," muttered the blonde, removing her glasses and rubbing her temples. "They really took it out of me today, I can't wait to get back home so that Nanu can f’ She pursed her mouth shut and stopped talking. She looked at Kay, who was smiling slyly. "I knew it," the teacher breathed, wagging a finger. "You do have something going on with Nanu, you're bi, Fischer." "Fine," Becky said, rolling her eyes. "It's preferable to having everyone thinking that I'm boffing Simmons in any event." "None of the gals would blame you," Kay said coyly, smirking. "Besides, if you're looking after that Nanu girl for the rest of her life, looking after you is the least she can do." "Gross, Kay," Becky said, frowning. "She didn't trade in being a slave to become a prostitute. I want her to thrive." "Just keep her from singing," laughed her co-worker. "Ya' gonna bring her out again to our next bitching fest?" "She'll want to go, as long as there's food and Zeppli," Becky said, standing now. She needed to get out of here. "We have a play date this Friday, actually, with my profs from university." "Oh, wow, you mean the Viking god and the zillionaire heiress you told us about?" Kay queried. "Lucky bitch. Can you take pics?" "Probably not the sort of visit one takes pics of, or at least doesn't share," Becky pointed out, gathering up her things from the desk. "It's going to blow Nanu away, I'm pretty sure." "Ya' wouldn't need to be Nanu the slave to be blown away, trust me," Kay pointed out. "In any event, don't forget the audit tomorrow. The suits are coming in to make sure we're teaching the right way and being inclusive about grades." "I am so fucked;” Becky grumbled, stuffing her cellphone in her purse. Home. "So what new and exciting things did you do today?" Becky asked as she sat Nanu down for dinner. They were trying meatloaf in gravy tonight, along with mashed potatoes and steamed carrots. Nanu was almost drooling as she looked at the food. "I tried some of your toys out," Nanu said, waiting while Becky put butter on the carrots. "I got scared and quit after trying to use one of them." "Let me guess, the egg?" Becky mused, smirking. Nanu nodded. "I thought that one might freak you out. Don't worry, I'll show you how to use all of them safely, and then you'll love them. What else did you get up to?" "I followed your instructions about using the lapp-topp," Nanu continued, poking the mashed potatoes with her fork. It smelled good, but looked like lumpy white shit. How strange. But Mistress had them on her plate too, so Nanu was clearly missing something. "I looked at pictures of Kana-da, and of Rome, and of my home;” "Rome probably doesn't look anything like you remember it," Becky said, sitting down finally and pouring wine for each of them. It was actually Falernian wine she'd brought back with Mark from their initial visit to Imperial Rome, where they'd first met Nanu. She intended to bring a bottle or two along for the playdate on Friday. Nanu nodded. "It is all ruins. The mighty Romans have fallen. They were not as strong as they thought. Who destroyed them, Mistress?" Becky shrugged as she began to eat. She had made sure Nanu could use her cutlery properly, and Nanu watched her for cues about how to proceed. "It was a slow decline, my love, over a few hundred years. But there were nomadic tribes called Huns who began the fall, and then the people of Germania finished it, the tribes you call Goths." Nanu made a face. "The tall, smelly straw-heads? They made Rome fall? Where are they today?" Becky didn't know quite how to answer that question. Did she talk about Germany and the Third Reich? Would that make sense to Nanu? Or the fact that they were the industrial engine of Europe? She almost laughed at the thought of trying to explain 'goth' subculture to Nanu. "What is this called, Mistress?" Nanu asked, masticating on a mouthful of food. She tapped with the fork at the steaming brown mass on her plate. "It's very good, if hot." "Meatloaf," Becky replied. "It's the ground-up meat of a cow and pig, held together with oats and egg, that baked in my oven. It's like a meat cake covered in gravy." "Gray-vee;” Nanu said, looking at the sauce curiously. It occurred to Becky that Nanu had no analogue for gravy in her own era, and Becky had no damn idea when gravy had been invented. She'd just ask two people she was certain would know when she saw them on Friday. She swore those two knew everything. "I like everyone we have met so far, Mistress," Nanu said, resuming eating. "Even Steve, after he let me try his fire chicken. That hurt so bad overnight, Mistress." "I know, baby, and he won't do it again," Becky assured her. "The next time you eat hot wings, it'll be because you like them and want to. He's probably just glad to know he's not on your grudge list." Nanu nodded. "I had an invideo list when I lived in Rome." "That doesn't surprise me," Becky chuckled. "You wrote down the names of people who pissed you off so that you take revenge one day?" "Well, no," Nanu admitted, blushing a little. "I was a slave, I didn't have a stylus or any parchment or things to write on. When I was mad at someone, or they hurt me and I was crying, I'd lie in my straw and I'd close my eyes and whisper their name into my palm to help me remember it." "Did that work?" "No, I usually forgot," the Egyptian girl grumbled. "My memory is shit." "I'm sorry," Becky said, snickering and trying to control herself. "I promise you, my love, I'm not laughing at you. You just have a funny way of saying things." Nanu sniffed indignantly and continued eating her food. At least food understood her and didn't mock her. Except for the burning chicken. She'd be whispering into her palm about it that night, for sure. Friday morning, finally. "Should I be nervous, Mistress?" Nanu asked while Becky was setting out her clothes, humming to herself. Nanu still didn't have the hang of coordinating her outfits, and left to her own judgement, she usually ended up looking like a crazy homeless person. Ergo, Becky was in charge of dressing her for when they went out. "Even I'm a little nervous, but I always am when I see my profs," the blonde told her, smiling. "It's been about three years since I last got together with them, we met up at a certain club. But I'm also feeling excited. I always have the time of my life when I'm with them." "You're the only person I know of who's ever felt that way about their teachers, then," Nanu said, sitting naked on the bed and watching. "Except for maybe M-ark, but he gets to fuck you." "Just wait until you meet my teachers, then," Becky replied, smiling slyly as she held up a shirt for Nanu to wear. Fifteen minutes later. "This is not the same direction we went to meet your other friends," Nanu observed, looking out the window as they drove. There were fewer of the giant buildings, the so-called 'sky-scrapers', and many of the domiciles were larger, more ornate, with larger spans of grass than at other houses she'd seen. "Do wealthy farmers live in these places?" Becky snickered. Since the area they were driving through was not overly urban, with buildings heaped on top of buildings, Nanu thought they were visiting a rural area. Affluent suburbs like this must have felt strange. "No, wealthy people live in places like this, but they're not farmers. These are like the villas of wealthy Romans, I guess, like the Flavians. They're politicians, lawyers, merchants;” "Do your teachers live

The Time Riders: Part 14 Visiting old friends, and Nanu discovers hot sauce. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. A certain bedroom. If she'd been worried about feeling alone, she wasn't noticing at the moment. There were so many fascinating things around here, all requiring her examination. There was an entire world to explore, after all, and it was apparently much bigger than the one she'd left behind. It was hard to conceive of, really; a world larger than Rome, than the empire, but according to her Mistress, Re-be-kah, she was not going to run out of things to be stunned by. So far, Mistress had been right. Nanu was kneeling on the bed, minutely examining the fabric that made up the soft sheets they'd been sleeping on. She tugged at the material, noticing how it was so tough that she needn't worry about tearing it. She tugged and tugged, giggling with delight when she couldn't wreck it. How clever the people of tomorrow were! She clambered off the bed and walked over to the window. She had only briefly put on any clothes, and that was to see her Mistress to the door as she left for work. Becky had made sure Nanu understood how the front door lock worked before she left. Nanu was only wearing the burning cock-sack garment, the one with the symbol of the musical group Let Zeppli on it, but the second Mistress was gone, she'd shucked it off and scampered around naked, laughing in delight. She'd been so tempted to stand in the window wearing no clothes and shake her nude body at the world, because she promised Mistress she would stay out of trouble, because she didn't want the vigiles coming for her since she'd only just gotten here. Mistress' 'free country' wasn't as free as it sounded, at least in her opinion. The tiny Egyptian girl walked up to the window of the bedroom and leaned on the frame, sighing dreamily as she rested her chin on her arms and gazed out at the world beyond the glass. Trees were starting to be green, and the grass of Mistress' lawn was visible, along with plants that would apparently become lovely flowers. High up in the blue sky, a strange bird flew. It barely moved, just gliding along, and seemed to have an almost cruciform shape. It left a weird trail of white cloud behind. What strange animals there were in the world of tomorrow. She left the window and went into the bathroom, plunking herself down on the commode and peeing, giggling at the sound produced by the material the bowl was made from. Once she was done, she headed downstairs, feeling a mite peckish. She went up to the fridge and opened the door, fascinated by the chill she felt as she leaned in to see what was available. Re-be-kah had left food for her to eat, all prepared and with her name on it, so that she knew what was safe. Seeing as how the ba-lo had made her almost shit herself to death the day before. The parfait was sitting in a bowl, with yummy-looking red and black berries swirled into it, along with a cereal that Mistress had called 'granola'. She took that and then retrieved a few slices of homemade bread from a little wooden container on the counter. Mistress had left some utensils and butter on the table, and even the peanut butter! Nanu loved the peanut butter; she couldn't wait to have it licked off her cunt! Sated some minutes later, Nanu wandered around, examining little things about the house that she hadn't noticed yet. She was careful to not mess with any switches, because she didn't know what all of them did. Apparently they weren't all just for the lights. She jumped up and down on the sturdy long chair, which was apparently called a 'chesterfield', rolled around on the comfy rug, and diddled herself in front of a mirror, cumming loudly and shamelessly. She loved looking at herself while she masturbated, she was so beautiful! Nanu flopped back on the rug, breathing heavily after a lovely climax. Her whole body tingled, and wonderful images of herself and her Mistress fucking floated through her mind. The house was warm, in a way she'd never felt before. Living in the slave quarters, and wearing what amounted to little more than a poorly made sack for clothing, she had often been cold, and rarely warm enough to suit her. This was; wonderful. This new world confused and frightened her, but she also knew she would acclimate, and then she would be warm, well-fed, and she could fuck to her heart's content. She was going to love her new life, she was sure. She hoped Re-be-kah was having as wonderful a day as she was. The Education of Nanu, as 'The Gods Will It'. Mooredale Secondary. Becky sat behind her desk, trying to conceal the way her eyes were spiraling with exasperation and boredom. While not every student in her Physics class was a dunce, only a few of them truly cared and paid attention. Most were just doing what was required to pass. Even if they got great grades, they weren't interested in retaining the material. And then there was one young dunce in particular. She tried not to scowl at Mark, who was zoning out at his desk, looking out the window. She could see even from here that his notes were inadequate. He couldn't claim to be memorizing the material; he had the memory of a goldfish crossed with a sieve. How had he made it into this prestigious high school to begin with? She was ultimately happy he had, of course, since that meant three months from now (from his point of view), he would be taking her on adventures with the Holmes Field Device. But this twerp sitting in front of her wasn't that time traveler yet, was he? He was just some lazy kid who was going to fail her course. Then he'd come back in time to fuck her, and convince her to not fail him. She'd agree, as long as he showed her the time machine and took her on adventures. Looking at him now, she couldn't believe she'd made the agreement. But she had, and now she was stuck passing him. She couldn't get out of it if she tried. She'd solidified her personal future. Fating, as people in the time travel community called it. Once you knew for certain that something factually was going to happen to you down the road, there was nothing you could do to change it, no matter how hard you tried. You might even hurt yourself doing it. Time lock. It was a thing. So if you enjoyed feeling like you were in control of your destiny, then you did your best not to find out what was to happen to you in the future. Loose talk stops clocks, and all that. She looked at Mark again, still trying not to frown. It was so strange to think that this boy, who was weeks away from being eighteen, was the same knucklehead who would be her time-travelling companion. She'd be having sex with him, and they'd be sharing girls in the time stream, including Nanu, who was waiting for her back at home. The Mark in front of her was seventeen, almost eighteen. Time travel made the rules seem so arbitrary, and even dumb sometimes. She couldn't have sex with him right now. She couldn't sext him under her desk right now. It was illegal. Yet somehow, magically, in a few weeks, on a particular day, Mark's upcoming birthday would make him an adult, even though functionally nothing was different about his biology. This Mark didn't know that they were lovers. That they would be lovers, in any event. Like all the other dumb boys in the school, he talked about her being hot, and what he'd do to her, childish boasting and hormonal nonsense. They talked about how she tended to dress rather conservatively, but clearly she had a rocking' bod underneath her clothes. They'd seen her in the school gym a few times. Becky didn't know why she dressed so conservatively, now that she thought of it. There were certainly less attractive teachers on staff who dressed more sexily than she did. Connie Marangos, the English Lit teacher, was shaped like a pear and had a face like a foot, but she somehow managed to dress sexy. What was Becky's excuse? She didn't want to give the horny students any more masturbation material than they already got. Horny teenage boys were annoying. Even Mark was annoying. Would he get better by the time she caught up with him in the future, three months from now? She could hope, but she doubted it. He hadn't exactly proven so thus far on their adventures. Another quiet sigh escaped her as she glanced for a moment in his general direction. She wanted to pin that boy down right now and fuck him, hard. She couldn't, but she wanted to. It bothered her that she was starting to feel a tingle in her needy cunt, and there was nothing she could do about it. She'd have to wait to get home and take out her horny frustrations on Nanu. Not that the Egyptian girl would mind, of course. She thought back about what she and Mark had experienced so far in the time stream. They'd gone to seventeenth century France, gotten in several brawls, and Mark had been fatally shot, only surviving because he wasn't meant to die yet. She'd been kidnapped by Cardinal Richelieu and made a lady-in-waiting to Anne of Austria, and she'd met her own ancestor, the gorgeous, brilliant, and deadly noblewoman Alexandra D'Assaut, who had helped Mark rescue her from the Louvre, and out from right under the nose of the Sun King. Becky might have shot Porthos And might also have kicked Richelieu in the nuts. That sounded so weird, but it had happened. She was there. That, or she was on the world's longest and most intense acid trip. They went to Rome, to participate in a genuine orgy, and they'd met and bought the beautiful slave girl Nanu. The intent had been to set her free, and Becky had even paid gold for her; but Mark screwed everything up by getting arrested for fucking a Vestal Virgin, one of Rome's most sacred priestesses. One thing led to another, and they'd had to rescue him from being skewered by gladiators in the Colosseum, mostly by dropping the roof on the emperor. Mark, or 'Bonosus' as he was known in ancient

The Time Riders: Part 13 Ancient Roman Appreciation For Led Zeppelin. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Becky brought several pairs back to the bed and laid them out for Nanu to look at. "This is just a small sample of my collection, but you'll get the idea and what's available." Nanu peered at them before looking up at Becky. "Your collection? Do you take them from other girls after you beat them up? Like a prize or a trophy?" Becky paused but then snickered. Count on Nanu to think in terms of panties as gory battle trophies. "No, sweetie, I just meant that I like panties and buying them in different styles and colors. That way, when I fuck a boy, I know exactly what to wear for him to arouse him." "Ah, I see," Nanu said, instantly understanding now. She picked up the various types, examining them. There were French cuts, boy cuts, hipster, tanga, bikini, g-string; not surprisingly, it was the last type that held her attention the longest. "Are these panties always necessary, Mistress? Can't a girl just walk around without them?" "You could," Becky allowed, nodding. "Usually when I am wearing a skirt, but there's lots of times I don't wear panties." "Do you wear them when you are teaching?" Nanu asked, looking at her mistress. "I; usually, yes," Becky replied, blushing. "It's a good idea to wear them when you're working." "Because students could look up your skirt and see your cunt and then they wouldn't be paying attention to what you were trying to teach them, yes?" Nanu concluded. "That's one way of thinking about it," Becky sighed. The girl wasn't wrong, but Becky didn't want to give her a civics lesson right now either. "Here's a good rule, my love; wear underwear when you're doing something important that has nothing to do with sex, okay?" Nanu frowned. "What could be more important than fucking?" Becky just sighed and stripped off her tee and her panties, now as naked as her charge. She sat down on the bed and pulled Nanu into her lap. Nanu readily straddled Becky, their tits squashed together and her hands around her mistress' shoulders. Becky smiled, her hands resting on Nanu's hips. "Tonight, we'll eat and have all sorts of fun, and I'll show you how some things work," Becky said. "Tomorrow, we go shopping for clothes and some other things." Nanu nodded, her hazel eyes shining brightly. She was looking forward to learning everything. Dinnertime. Becky came up the stairs, peering into her bedroom and noticing that Nanu wasn't there. She looked in the bathroom, thinking the little scamp might be fucking around with the lights again, but she wasn't there, either. She then noticed that the door to the spare room was open. She went inside and found Nanu kneeling at the window, her chin resting on her hands as she gazed outside, watching the street. She seemed fascinated, and the more Becky thought about it, the more she realized this made complete sense. Of course, Nanu could actually see all that much, because of the trees that lined the street, but what was happening just below had her rapt attention. "Like what you see?" she asked, coming up behind Nanu and stroking her fingers through the girl's long black hair. "I don't have the words, mistress," Nanu sighed, still watching. "Everyone is so tall. And the metal monsters are everywhere, but they stay on the black road." Becky giggled. "They are driven by people, Nanu, just like chariots were in your day. The people are inside them, that's all. And yes, they can be dangerous if the people driving them are not careful, or if people on foot walk in front of them;” Nanu blushed slightly at that. "But don't worry, I'll teach you how to be safe," Becky promised. "I have one of those metal things myself, you know." Nanu turned and looked at her with wide eyes. "You own a monster?" Becky smirked. "Yes, most adults do, darling. They are not monsters, they are just machines. They get us from one place to another." Nanu seemed hesitant. "What; what are the machines called in your En-gush?" Becky smiled. "Well, we commonly call them 'cars', but the actual word is 'automobile', I believe." "It would scare me to be in one," the smaller girl said. "You're sure it will not eat me?" Becky laughed. "I've been driving my monster for almost ten years now, darling, and it hasn't eaten me. I promise, we'll take it slow. However, I came up to tell you that it's time to make dinner, and I wanted to know if you'd care to watch." Nanu nodded and let Becky take her by the hand and lead her back downstairs. "I was thinking I would let you decide what we eat, darling. I'll put out some things, and you can choose a couple that I'll make a meal from." Nanu nodded and Becky put an apron on over her nude body, just in case she ended up cooking more bacon. The smaller girl watched as she pulled various things out of the fridge, some of which were obviously fruits and vegetables, others being meats in various forms. "Wassa?" she asked, pointing at something that looked like thin, round slices of a vaguely pinkish-brown color. "What, that?" Becky said somewhat distractedly, looking at what Nanu was pointing to for a quick second before returning her attention to the fridge. She remembered to revert to Latin. "That's just bologna, it's nothing to worry about." "Ba-lo;” Nanu repeated, picking up some slices and popping them in her mouth when Becky wasn't looking. "Let's see here," Becky mumbled, bent over and inside the fridge, which was very nice, but way too big for her personal needs. "I've clearly gotta go shopping soon. Here's some salad mix, and then we have some’ "Umm!" The unexpected (and rather disconcerting) sound compelled Becky to rear back out of the fridge and whirl around, wondering what wild animal had somehow made its way into her home. She paused when she saw Nanu standing there, her eyes wide in shock and her cheeks bulging like a chipmunk's while she tried to masticate on all the bologna she had stuffed in her mouth. Her lips couldn't even quite shut. "Nanu," Becky said in quiet disbelief, blinking and shaking her head for a moment, and forgetting to speak in Latin. "Did you just snarf all my bologna?" "Ba; lo;” Nanu mumbled, trying to force it down her gullet. She looked like an ostrich trying to swallow a doorknob. Becky just watched as Nanu performed some peristaltic wizardry with her throat until, against all odds, the bologna was gone from her mouth. The Egyptian girl was touching her lips with her fingers and then looking at her fingers in wonder. She even licked them at one point before looking up at Becky, her eyes flooded with wonder. "Mistress," she said quietly. "I want more ba-lo." "Wait, what?" Becky blurted, shaking her head again, as if she couldn't believe what she'd just heard. "Did you just say you want more bologna?" "Yes," Nanu replied earnestly, nodding. "It is the best thing I have ever eaten. I never want to eat anything else ever again." "Nanu, you can't just eat bologna for the rest of your life," Becky pointed out. "But, mistress, I will die if I don't have more!" Nanu whined rather dramatically. "I don't want to die!" "Dying is exactly what you'll do if you try to eat nothing but ba-lo," Becky pressed, failing to notice she was now using Nanu's word for the damnable stuff. "It's full of nitrates and all those things that gave you the raging shits this morning. Remember that?" "But it's the best thing I've ever eaten, mistress," Nanu continued to whine. "People who don't love ba-lo are stupid!" "Nanu, it's full of those nitrates and preservatives, crazy amounts of the stuff," Becky iterated firmly. "You'll shit yourself to death, woman." The Egyptian girl looked positively heartbroken. "I'm not saying you can never have ba-lo, all I'm saying is that you can't eat just ba-lo or you will die on my toilet, and I am not explaining that to the vigiles." Nanu sighed loudly and looked put out. "Fine." "As your body adapts, you'll be able to eat more and more things," the blonde woman assured her. "But it will take time, and you will never be able to survive on ba-lo alone. It's not very good for you, even if it tastes good." "Then why does your society have it at all?" Nanu asked, frowning. "We like things that are bad for us too, sometimes," Becky said, feeling the need to defend her era from this sort of punitive accusation. Frankly, she'd never seen herself having to answer for her world to people from bygone ages who were observing how they did things in modern times. "Indulgences, I guess." "Will we be eating anything nearly as good as ba-lo for dinner?" Nanu asked, looking to change the subject now that she had been thwarted from true happiness. "Just you watch," Becky said, accepting the challenge. To Nanu's surprise, they ended up eating vegetables and cooked fish, things she was familiar with, and they tasted good. To her delight, she was even allowed to have dessert, a bowl of something her mistress called 'ice cream'. It was cold, sweet, and delicious. It was three different colors, and they all tasted great. She was positively giddy by the time she'd finished her bowl. Becky suspected that Nanu was also on an incredible sugar high. "So what do you want to do before bed, my love?" Becky asked as she did the dishes. "I know it's been a long day." Nanu thought about that. "Well, we need to bathe again, and to fuck, but before then, Mistress, can you show me more of your world using the magic boxes?" "Of course we can," Becky said cheerfully. "And it's not only my world anymore, Nanu, it's your world too now. It's our world." Nanu thought about that for some time and then nodded. "Please show me my new world, Mistress. There must be so much to see." Some minutes later, they were in Becky's little office, surrounded by her file cabinets and sitting at her desk where she kept her computer. Nanu watched in fascination as Re-

The Time Riders: Part 12 Teaching Nanu about the modern world. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Some minutes passed before Becky pressed her forehead to Nanu's, holding her by the cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Nanu; I thought I'd lost you. I'm sorry; I'll teach you how to be careful. I promise." "I'm sorry, Mistress, I didn't mean to be thoughtless and frighten you," Nanu sniffled, her eyes bleary. As much as the fright by the wheeled monster, she was disconcerted by how upset her Mistress was. Rebe-kah was genuinely terrified that she'd nearly lost Nanu. It made her love her Mistress even more. "Let's go back inside," Becky suggested, pulling Nanu to her feet. "I promise, we'll try again later." She looked both ways before taking them across the road, holding Nanu close, even possessively. Becky was taking no chances. "Mistress?" "Yes, my love?" As they reached the curb back in front of Becky's house, Nanu held up the hem of her long shirt, heedless of the fact that she was flashing her cunt to a random woman walking by as she showed Becky something. "I'm sorry, the monster, it frightened me. I; I pissed myself and ruined the sack." Becky's response was somewhere between a laugh, a choke, and a sob and she caressed Nanu's shoulder as they continued walking. "Don't worry, I'll find you another." "Can it have a flaming cock on it again?" Nanu asked. "I think I rather like that." Becky smiled. "I'll buy you some more flaming cock shirts, my love. I promise." The door shut behind them, and it was time to relax. It had been quite the eventful day and it was barely noon. After a nap. "Do you have friends, Mistress?" Nanu asked as she lay on her back on the bed, gazing up at Becky. She ground and pumped her hips, slithering her cunt against her lover's, while Becky looked down at her, churning and undulating. Becky was fondling one of her ample tits, while the other was caressing one of Nanu's. In turn, Nanu was groping Becky, while her free hand had reached down and was holding her nether lips wide, exposing her throbbing clit to be brushed by Becky's. They'd already cum a few times, but were simply enjoying the sensations now. "Of course, silly," Becky giggled, loving how wet and sticky their pussies felt together. "You just haven't met any of them yet. The only person you know aside from me is Mark." "If we meet your friends, what will you tell them about me?" One of the things that Becky appreciated about Nanu was that she could fuck and still hold a conversation if she felt the need. Business didn't interfere with pleasure. "I admit, I haven't given it too much thought yet, but I would probably tell them that you're a student from another country who I have staying with me, and you don't speak English." Nanu arched her hips and side, pressing hard against Becky's cunt. "Mistress, what; what is the name of the place we are in? Where in the empire of the Romans is it?" Becky had to stop fucking because she broke down laughing. She leaned down and pressed her body to Nanu's hugging her tight while she jiggled uncontrollably. Nanu held her Mistress, but she was frowning, wondering what was so funny. She stopped frowning when Becky kissed her lovingly. "Oh, Nanu," the blonde woman said, smiling into her companion's eyes. "I have so much to explain to you still;” She sat up and then pulled Nanu into her lap. Nanu's legs wrapped around her Mistress' waist and she just looked contentedly into Becky's blue eyes. She knew she was in for an explanation she wouldn't completely understand, but as long as she was naked like this with Becky, she didn't mind, either. There wasn't much Nanu couldn't endure, as long as she kept getting fucked on a regular basis. And Becky seemed to like fucking as much as she did. It was a wonderful match, as far as Nanu was concerned. "Baby," Becky cooed, pushing a stray damp hair away from Nanu's lovely face. "Where we are now, we are very, very far from the boundaries of the Roman Empire. The place I live, it is a nation called 'Canada'." "Kaaa-na-daaa;” she said quietly. She liked the sound of it. "Is Kaaa-na-daaa a large place?" Becky tried to remember her ancient history, not to mention what she knew about her own geography. "Well," she said finally, having figured it out. "Canada is larger than the entire Roman empire at its height. Canada is the second largest nation in the world." Nanu's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Impossible!" she almost hissed in disbelief. "How have you fought off the Roman devils? Is Kaaa-na-daaa mighty?" Becky drew in a breath. This is where it got difficult. "Nanu, I know you can read, and you can count, but; do big numbers mean anything to you?" Nanu shrugged. "I could count higher than any of the other slaves in the Flavian household, and even a few of my masters and mistresses. Sometimes I was too smart and they beat me for it. I think I count well." "I'm asking because;” Becky continued, seeming hesitant. "The Roman Empire, it fell around one-thousand five-hundred years ago." Nanu said nothing, trying to understand what she had just been told. The Empire, gone? Life without Rome? Becky blushed. "It; and the time you were from, Nanu, that was just under three hundred years before Rome fell. My time, where we live now, is about eighteen-hundred years after your own." A long silence followed. Nanu shook her head. When she looked at Becky, her hazel eyes were full of worry. "Mistress, are; are you lying to me?" Becky shook her head slowly. "No, Nanu. I promised you I wouldn't lie to you." "But I don't understand what you mean," the Egyptian girl almost pleaded. "These numbers you are saying, they; I don't understand them!" She took Becky's hands in hers, her expression somewhere between afraid and desperate. "Please help me understand, Mistress.." Becky thought about what she could possibly do to help her beloved Nanu understand. She considered, her eyes closed for some seconds. When she opened them, she nodded. "Come downstairs with me and I will try," she said. Nanu clambered out of her lap and the two girls rose. Taking Nanu's hand, Becky led her downstairs to the living room. She made Nanu sit on the floor while she walked over to a corner. In said corner, behind a decorative screen, she kept a large, bluish water container, like one would find supplying the water cooler in an office. With a grunt, she began rolling it out from its storage space and toward Nanu. The former slave-girl watched curiously while Becky now turned it over with some effort, spilling out what looked to Nanu like tiny brown coins. Endless numbers of them, chinking and tinkling into a pile on the rug. "There," Becky breathed, wiping her brow. She'd already been sweaty from sex with Nanu, and the effort of rolling and tipping her change barrel had her feeling warm. She now lay down on her stomach on the carpet opposite Nanu, with the piles of tiny brown coins between them. "Nanu, these are called 'pennies', and they are a type of coin we use in my time. They are made of aeramen (copper), like some coins you know." Nanu nodded slowly. Becky held up a penny. "We're going to pretend each of these is a year. We're going to count them. And when we get to a certain point, that is how long ago the Roman Empire fell. But think of them as years, Nanu." Nanu drew a deep breath, sat with her legs crossed, and began counting, picking up the pennies and placing them into a new pile she started. "One; two; three;” Fifteen minutes later. Nanu had stopped pushing the pennies, but was still counting aloud while Becky moved the coins. "Six hundred fifty-one; six hundred fifty-two;” Becky could tell her beloved friend was getting very upset, but she kept going, because she needed Nanu to understand. The minutes dragged by, but Nanu kept counting. "Nine hundred eighty-five;” she said in a quavering voice. "Nine hundred eighty-six; nine hundred; No!" Nanu shoved the ever-growing pile of pennies away, scattering the coins, and Becky reared back in surprise. The Egyptian girl was scrambling backward on her ass, her eyes wide in fear and disbelief. She bumped into the couch before she yelped and leapt to her feet, dashing out of the room. "You're Lying!" "Nanu!" Becky called, getting hastily to her feet as the smaller girl opened the front door and burst onto the street. She was still naked, and Becky could hear her sobbing. "Shit shit shit shit;” Becky said under her breath as she pulled a long jacket out of the closet and then dashed out the door, looking around. "Nanu?" she called frantically. "Nanu!" But the girl was nowhere in sight. She looked up and down the street, seeing no bewildered pedestrians. Thank God it was Sunday, but how long could it possibly be before a tiny naked woman was noticed running around the neighborhood sobbing to herself and unable to speak English? She'd be picked up by the police, be terrified, and they would have absolutely no way of identifying her. Heaven only knows what would happen then. Poor Nanu! Becky took a chance and began heading in the direction she heard a dog barking from. She kept calling Nanu's name, having no clue where she could have gone. How on earth had no one seen her yet? Becky cursed herself. There were so many things she hadn't anticipated. How could she? She and Mark had brought Nanu forward in time to make her life better, to free her from the chains of slavery. It seemed like such a good thing to do. It had to be. After all, hadn't time let them do it? She wasn't even exactly certain what had set Nanu off, but she had an inkling. Yet another thing Becky hadn't known she needed to think through. Why would she know that? She'd never brought anyone forward in time before. How many people had? One ten millionth of this time's people? Maybe? She didn't know! This was almost as new to her as it was to Nanu. But Becky was making her own

The Time Riders: Part 11 Attack of the Velociraptor. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Another basement, seconds later. The quiet darkness was suddenly disrupted by a strange glow, and a hum, along with blinking neon lights that seemed to spin around a perimeter. The Holmes Field Device appeared, and Mark sighed heavily as he shut it off. He slumped down onto a small stool in a nearby corner, thankful his parents and his sister pretty much never came down here. Mom didn't like the clutter, Roxy was afraid of the spiders, and his dad never wanted to be seen leaving the basement in case his mom decided she needed something dug out. Out of sight, out of mind. He looked at the little multicolored weed pipe he was holding in his hand, still contained in a small baggie. It didn't matter that his fingerprints were on it, since he'd shown it to Roxy. Not like she was gonna tell their parents, right? But still, this was getting complicated. His initial trip over to Danni's house had apparently not been as smooth as hoped, and he just found out now. And now he had to jump back in time to hide the pipe under his chair in order to show to Roxy, and then get it back into Danni's room unnoticed. Right? Becky had been correct, these twists were getting harder and harder to manage. He'd very nearly been caught at Danni's, and it was only dumb luck that saved him. But he couldn't rely on that now. He shook his head and took a deep breath, preparing to jump back to before the confrontation with Roxy, before he'd gone into his room. Maybe during dinner? What time had dinner been? Thank God his parents and Roxy were out right now. How many more times did he have to try to correct this little gaffe? And how? He got up wearily and assumed his place atop the platform of the Holmes Field Device. He fired it up and in a drone of noise and particle states he could never understand, he faded from view. Seconds later, he showed up again, hurrying off the platform and placing several small Renaissance plaster gargoyles onto the floor away from the device. He then activated it and faded out again. Mere moments had passed before he reappeared, sweating as he held a load of brightly colored Tang Dynasty women's clothing, tossing it aside. He looked really frazzled as he punched in more coordinates and blinked out of the basement. When he appeared again, he was sputtering and cursing as he pulled on a tough leather leash, trying to coax a llama off the platform. The creature grunted and spit in his face. Mark swore at it but then scrambled back on the platform and winked out of view. The Holmes Field Device glowed into existence and mariachi music blared through the basement. Several men in sequined black outfits were playing El Jarabe Tapatío and calling out joyously as Mark, who was wearing a ridiculously large sombrero, shoved them all off the platform, practically in tears from the stress he was under. He stood still and gazed in bewilderment at the Mexicans crammed into his basement, playing as if nothing had happened, while the stupid llama bobbed its head back and forth, enjoying the music. Unable to deal with this, Mark staggered onto the platform and faded out again. "Run!" he shouted in terror as he blinked back into the present, bolting off the Holmes Field Device and climbing up onto a tall, rickety shelf while an enraged velociraptor screeched hatefully and leaped at him, trying to tear his innards out with its fiendish claws. The Mariachi band's playing was replaced with cries of panic, everyone trying to escape the demon predator. "Aye, Yi-Yi-Yi-Yi-Yi!" shrieked one man as he ran about aimlessly, as if only suddenly aware of the basement he was trapped within. Instruments and sombreros were flying about in the darkness, along with growls, hisses, and the sound of fabric tearing. The llama just spat contemptuously at everyone within range. And Mark swore that very night that he'd never cause another time twist ever again. Ever. All the best with that promise, Mark. You're going to need it. Becky starts teaching Nanu about the modern world. Not easy. The Education of Nanu Begins. Becky stirred and hummed, feeling the morning light caress her face. As she arched her body, she pressed against something soft, and remembered she had a guest in her bed. Her eyes opened and she smiled warmly at the sight of Nanu, who was curled into her, quite naked, and sleeping soundly. She was indeed a lovely girl, with long, dark hair so black that it almost shone blue, and creamy, tan skin. She had a pretty face, and a petite frame, with a dancer's build. Her legs looked long, her behind was taut, and her tits looked large on her because she was rather tiny. She was definitely under five feet tall. Back her own time, she might have been slightly shorter than average for the women of Roman Egypt, but in this day and age, she was downright puny. Becky was almost a head taller than her, and Mark had been a good head and neck taller. Thankfully, Nanu was not intimidated by their disparity in height, which would have made things awkward. And Becky was pretty sure that Nanu had absolutely no idea what sort of changes and adjustments awaited her in the twenty-first century. The Egyptian girl made a noise as she began to slowly wake up. She rubbed at her eyes and began to stretch as she lay on her side. She arched her back and her tits met Becky's, their nipples kissing gently. Nanu paused and opened her eyes, blinking as everything came into focus. She saw her beautiful Mistress smiling at her, the woman of the Tomorrow Stars named Rebe-kah, her golden hair curling around her face, and her exotic blue eyes soft with affection. Nanu felt now that she was lying on something very soft, and there was a thin but warm blanket over her. It felt nice against her, very sensual. "Good morning, beautiful," Becky said in Latin, the language they shared, since Nanu had no concept of English, and Becky didn't speak whatever dialect of ancient Egyptian Nanu's people used. "Did you sleep well?" Nanu smiled back, still looking sleepy. "Yes, Mistress, thank you. I don't think I've ever slept that well before. Your lectulo, it is so soft and comfortable." "I'm glad you think so, since you'll be sleeping in it from now on," the blonde woman purred reaching out with her arm and gathering the former slave-girl into her embrace. They hugged close and pressed their lips together, kissing deeply and sensually. Their tongues found one another and tangled while hands caressed and wandered over now-familiar forms. Becky's large tits squashed into Nanu's and they both shivered at the delicious sensation of their nipples poking together. But Becky also noticed a tension in Nanu's body, a shifting stiffness that she seemed to be trying to endure. Becky giggled and ended the kiss, pressing her forehead to Nanu's and smirking. "Nanu," she whispered gently, her hand wandering down to cup one of the girl's pert ass cheeks. "Do you need to relieve yourself?" The girl bit her lip but nodded. "Yes, Mistress, I'm sorry. I didn't want to say anything because we were’ "I understand, Nanu, but we can't have you peeing the bed now, can we?" Becky said sweetly, caressing her lover's cheek. "Come, I guess it's time to show you how to use a modern toilet." She pushed herself up to a kneeling position on the bed and Nanu did the same, rubbing her eyes and stretching. She really was beautiful, so recently coming into womanhood. Nanu looked around, seeing the room she was in now for the first time, since when they'd arrived it had been night and Becky had purposefully kept the lights off in order to get the former slave-girl to sleep. "This is your bedchamber, Mistress?" Nanu asked in wonder, noticing several things now. "Are you sure you're not a queen?" Becky giggled. "Only in my own mind, Nanu. I am just a teacher of young minds here in my world. I promise I'll show you everything. Let's go;” She took Nanu by the hand and pulled her off the bed, leading her out of the room. Nanu seemed intent on touching just about everything they passed by, including the door frame. "It is wood?" she asked, pressing her finger against it and tapping curiously. "The entire frame of my house is, along with other materials I haven't figured out how to explain yet, but I promise, I will." She led Nanu down the short hallway to the bathroom and flipped on the light. The Egyptian girl's eyes widened in amazement. "How did you do that?" she asked in shock. "Oh, right," Becky mused. "Forgot about that part. Watch;” Becky showed her the tiny switch on the wall and flipped it down to turn the light off. Nanu gasped. She then turned it back on. Nanu's eyes were still wide. Becky pointed at the space over the mirror, where she had a small row of vanity lights. She flicked them off and on again. "You control those tiny suns from this thing on the wall?" Nanu asked, still in disbelief. "They aren't suns, Nanu, they're just lights, they're like my time's answer to torches or braziers," Becky explained patiently. When she and Mark had decided to see if they could bring Nanu forward in time with them, she'd realized that she would spend a great deal of time explaining just about everything in Nanu's new world to her. Electricity, modern plumbing, cars, the scale of things, the internet. More than that, she still had a job to do, teaching students five days a week. She couldn't exactly bring Nanu with her, could she? Mark was there, and not the Mark that Nanu knew. This Mark was three months younger, and hadn't time-travelled yet. He wouldn't know Nanu at all, or Becky in the capacity she knew him in, that being his future self, and her lover. The Mark that Becky taught wasn't even quite eighteen yet. Becky found this maddening, since the urge to sext the little twerp during class was quite strong. How on earth would she keep

The Time Riders: Part 10 Egyptian Acheology, In Real Time. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Mark felt a cold chill, but also was strangely assured that she didn't begin screaming. If anything, she sounded vaguely amused. He didn't come out, but he pushed one of his hands through the linens and waved at her. "Silly," she giggled, still smirking. "You might as well come out, because all I have to do is scream if I want help. I'm not afraid of anyone stupid enough to break into the personal chambers of a devotee of the goddess." Mark took a deep breath and walked out from beneath the linens, stopping and looking down at her, blushing at getting caught. She looked up him curiously, although she was still clearly amused, and made no attempt to cover her nudity. "You're a slave," she remarked, noting his attire. "What compelled you to hide in my room?" What was the point in lying? "I was hoping to fuck a Vestal," he confessed, shrugging and turning his palms to her in a gesture of honesty. "That's the simple truth." She raised an eyebrow. "That's brazen of you. You know we're all virgins on purpose, right? We took a sacred vow." Mark shrugged again. "Everyone has needs and urges, even sacred virgins." Aemelia giggled. "I suppose that's true. But why would; excuse me, I don't know your name, slave." "Bonosus." "Well, then, Bonosus," she intoned, setting her arm on the edge of the basin and then resting her head against two fingers while she observed him, more than a little intrigued. "What makes you think a sacred virgin of mighty Rome would want to fuck a slave, if she were indeed subject to such base desires as you describe?" "Well, you wouldn't need to take a vow if you weren't subject to them, would you?" he reasoned. "And as to why;” He slowly slipped off his ragged tunic, leaving him naked. Aemelia's eyes widened slightly as his cock came into view. "Woof," she muttered to herself as she fixated on his limp cock. "Your father, is he Bacchus, or a satyr? Because only a god or a creature of sin should be lavished with a prong like that." "Interested?" he asked, smirking back at her. "Because if you're not, maybe Marcia or Licinia would be willing to make use of me if you're not’ "Hold on, now," the blonde interrupted in a quiet but calm voice, holding up her hand. "I didn't say that. All I asked was what you had to offer that a sacred virgin would be willing to compromise her vows for. And that thing makes up for a lot of sacred vows;” She rose slowly, the water cascading down her body. Not surprisingly, as a sacred virgin, her cunt was unshaved, but her wet hairs were rather light and sparse, the same color as her honey hair. "Um, you're eighteen, right?" Mark asked, wondering for a moment. Aemelia gave him a wry look, her hands moving up to her tits. "I am. A little more, in fact. Is that a problem? Am I too old for you to want to fuck me?" "No, I'm perfectly okay with you being eighteen," he assured her. "Kinda counting on it, in fact." "Well, that is good to hear," she said, allowing her hands to fall away from her tits and exposing herself again. She seemed strangely shameless, which was no doubt quite a trick to hide in these environs. "It'd be one thing for me to reject you, but it would be unthinkable for me to be rejected by a mere slave. And if you were indeed intent on someone younger, I would have to summon Lucia or Domi’ "Nope, I'm intent on you, if you're willing," Mark said firmly, smiling as she watched his cock swelling slowly. He wasn't getting hard, but he was getting aroused, and it had the desired effect on his potential partner. Aemelia bit her lip as she watched his cock grow. "Normally, I just pleasure myself in the bathing basin, since it is easy to hide," she said as she stepped out of the water and walked over toward the linens he was standing in front of, drawing close to him and smiling rather saucily. "But to be fucked in the bathing basin would create too much noise, I fear. No, base slave, if you intend to have your way with me, it must be quick and dirty, and allow me to conceal any evidence after. You do not want to know what happens to a sacred virgin who has broken her vows of chastity." "I can only imagine," Mark said as he took one of the linens hanging on a peg and knelt down on one knee, beginning to dry her off. She seemed amused by his attentiveness, and put one foot on his thigh, allowing him to continue. "So, what, I should probably fuck you somewhere in here, since it's farthest from the door and least chance to be heard, right?" Aemelia nodded and pointed at the bed. "But you cannot have me on my bed either, slave, as there will be evidence of my activities. No, I fear you will simply have to push me up against a wall and fuck me, like a common whore." "Probably all we have time for," he pointed out, leering as he stood, towering over her and pulling her body to his and beginning to fondle her. She closed her eyes and sighed as he groped her tit and ran his other hand down her back to caress her ass. "Uh, my first man," she whispered, not at all flinching from his touch. If anything, she parted her legs slightly, which she reached down to stroke his hardening cock with one hand. "Not only breaking my vows to my goddess, but the sheer indignity of losing my chastity to a lowly slave;” He could tell she was getting really turned on. His hand found her cunt and he slipped two fingers inside, making Aemelia moan. She was already very wet, and he couldn't find a hymen, so he would have no problem fucking her. "You are feeling around; for my chastity," she breathed, opening her hazel eyes and looking up at him while he fingered her. "It was broken many years ago, while I was riding atop of a horse to a ceremony. It was determined to be an accident, and not a symbol of the goddess' disfavor, so I was permitted to continue serving her. Now, my chaste cunt will serve you, slave. You may fuck me. But first;” She pulled away from him and went over to the far wall, then took hold of a small wooden peg and tapped on the wall three times in a certain rhythm, then three more. She put the peg down and then walked back to him, her eyes glinting with excitement. "You may fuck me against the wall right there, slave;” she whispered breathily, clearly getting eager. She stopped in front of him and waited for something. Then he heard three faint taps in a certain rhythm, which seemed to come from the wall she'd just tapped on. Without any further hesitation, she led him over to the wall she'd indicated and bent forward, exposing her ass to him while steadying herself against the wall. Mark didn't wait, but simply placed his hands on her ass cheeks while standing behind her. He teased his hard cock against her wet twat before sliding the head inside. He felt her stiffen, her back arching, and then she was murmuring to herself. "I am disgraced; I am disgraced;” Mark smiled evilly and pushed deep inside her with one long, slow stroke. Aemelia shuddered and choked, fighting the urge to cry out as he violated her. She hissed as he bottomed out in her, pushing back on her hands to take him in further. She was silent now, just trembling as she felt his cock pinning her to him. Mark then began to stroke back and forth slowly, letting her adjust to the sensation. She was indeed tight, and he was inclined to believe her claim that she was still a virgin, even if she had no hymen. "Bonosus;” she said in a quiet voice somewhere between a gasp and a whisper. She pushed back against him again, starting to grind her ass in circles, reveling in the sensation of a man deep inside her, committing such an extreme blasphemy against Mother Rome. The two were thinking the same thing: Fuck Mother Rome. Mark started moving faster, knowing they didn't have a lot of time. His hips began smacking against her ass, and he watched as his cock glistened, sliding back and forth in her slippery cunt. "Uh, less noise, less noise!" she rasped, waving almost frantically with one hand, her eyes squeezed shut. "Do you want us to both be executed?" Mark kept pumping back and forth strongly, but refrained from slamming against her. He was still more than deep enough to send her into convulsions, though, and the priestess hissed lustily, looking back at him with glazed hazel eyes. "Make me cum," she panted, working herself against him rather inexpertly, but with amazing enthusiasm. "Disgrace my body, my temple, with your cum, slave!" Mark moved faster, and felt her cunt rippling and contracting around him greedily, indicating she was not far off from orgasm. His hands pulled her ass cheeks apart, stretching her and she bit her knuckle and keened. Covered in sweat, her arm flashed out to the side, pointing at the linens hanging next to them. "A linen!" she gasped, her breath catching in her throat. "Give me a linen before I scream!" Mark reached out and grabbed one of the long linen swaths off a peg and handed it to Aemelia, who hastily shoved as much as she could into her mouth, right before her body contorted and was wracked by orgasm. She screamed in ecstasy, the linen muffling the otherwise piercing sound magnificently. Her cunt clutched his cock fiendishly, and Mark stifled a loud groan as he began to cum deep inside her. They ground and squirmed against one another heatedly as he filled her with his pearly essence, and he could feel her cum slathering his thighs. Finally, she sagged, leaning against the wall to keep herself up while removing the linen from her mouth so she could breathe heavily. Some moments later, she eased herself forward, off his throbbing cock, gasping as it popped out of her. She turned around, leaning back against the wall and pulled Mark to her, pressing her mouth against his and kissing him deeply. She may have been a virgin, but she certainly knew how to kiss. Then again, if it was just her a

The Time Riders: Part 9 Planning Another Vacation Time Travel. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Cast of Characters: Mark Simmons: 18 year old High School grad, enamored with Miss Becky Fischer. He finds the time machine and builds a new life. Uses various aliases in traveling. Rebecca 'Becky' Fischer: Mark’s Physics teacher. Very intelligent, in her later twenties, Shapely Tall Blonde, lusty bisexual, D Cup tits. Martial arts expert, Uses various aliases in traveling. Henri: Claims to be a French physician and Apothicary. Chester Edgerton: Time traveling mentor, living in 17th Century French village. Cardinal Richelieu: ‘The Red Duke’. Statesman and Roman Catholic Cardinal. Dispises Queen Anne. Alexandra D'Assaut ('Alexa', or 'Lexi': Lady in waiting (and trusted advisor) to Queen Anne of France, Lusty bisexual, Very Tall, Busty DD tits, long golden blonde hair, Blue eyed. Lisette: servant (and lover) of Lady Alexandra, young, bespeckled brown eyes. Short, shapely, with wavy dark hair, bisexual. Dhallyla: Mark's mother. Roxy: Mark's sister. Nanu: An Egyptian slave of Pompeneia Flavius, purchased by Becky, dark complexion. Pompeneia: Roman hostess of Orgies. Lusty wife of Flavius, Mother of Domitia, bisexual, tall and shapely. Flavius: Roman aristocrat, husband of Pompeneia, protective father of Dometia, Domitia: Lusty young daughter of Pompeneia and Flavius. A pledged Vestal Virgin, Escapes to Sumeria when sentenced to death by starvation by Roman court. The Retiallis: A gladiator of the Collosseum. Prefers the trident spear and netting, to subdue opponents. Escapes to Sumeria. Rullus: A bulky gladiator of huge physical dimensions. Has an affection for Achilleia. Escapes to Sumeria. Achilleia: A fierce female gladiator. Prefers the whip and sword as weapons. Has a crush on Rullus. Escapes to Sumeria. Roxy stomped out of his room, trying to not slam the door behind her. Once he heard her heading down the stairs, Mark sank onto the corner of his bed and exhaled loudly, another shiver running up his spine. He suddenly had to pee. Had he really told Roxy the truth? He hadn't planned to, but he didn't exactly know what he planned to tell her, either. Now that he thought of it, telling her the truth was even more ridiculous than any appreciable lie he could have come up with, wasn't it? Of course she wouldn't believe him about a time machine, and she was quite reasonable not to. Just because it was true didn't mean she was committing an error in judgment. But now what? He had no idea how long her coerced 'promise' would hold her. She was really hot under the collar, and Roxy didn't take losing well at the best of times. He'd just have to be careful, he supposed. More so. He sighed and looked down at her little weed pipe, still in its baggie. In a moment of panic, when Roxy had been standing over him and threatening to slug him across the jaw, he'd made an instant decision; taking a lesson from his playbook with Becky; and resolved that he would get into Danni's house and filch the pipe, because he knew Roxy kept it there. He'd heard her talking over the phone about it with Danni at various points, and never really thought anything of it. Until now. He was familiar with Danni's house, since she'd been best friends with Roxy since they were little. When the two families were having dinner together, the girls had often dragged Mark upstairs and dressed him in girl's clothes and put makeup on him, like he was a doll for their tea parties. He also knew that Danni's parents didn't care if she smoked, because he'd heard Roxy lament this fact over the phone, wishing her parents were that cool. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to do the math of all this in his head. It would take Roxy thirty minutes to reach Danni's house in her car, to ask what the Hell had happened. But Danni would protest, insisting she'd never betray her friend and give Mark the pipe. Then she'd prove it by showing Roxy it was exactly where it was supposed to be, which was taped inside to the top of her underwear drawer. Only it wouldn't be there. Unless Mark went back to Danni's place and stashed it again, before the girls got up to her room. And then got out again. That'd really fuck with Roxy's head, and make Danni think Rox had gone insane. It took eight minutes for Mark to fire up and prime the Holmes Field Device, which was sitting in a corner in the basement that no one ever used. It was dead space, and as safe as any place else could be that wasn't Becky's basement. Eight minutes to prime it and program in the coordinates and the time. Like, literally a minute after he'd apparently gotten the pipe out of there to begin with. What? His mind was almost spinning at the logic flips. He had to return the pipe before he actually stole it? When did he steal it if he hadn't done it before returning it? And did that mean he had to steal it twice? He could account, apparently, for Danni not being in her room the first time, because he'd seemingly gotten away with it. If he landed a minute or so after he had burgled her, he would have the time he needed, he hoped, before she came back from wherever she was. Return it; steal it later, when no one is looking, then return it; I think. He heard the distinct sound of Roxy's Mustang roaring away down the road angrily. He somehow doubted that he had thirty minutes. What if he miscalculated and got caught? The obvious issues aside, how did he explain the Holmes Field Device? Could he explain it? People in this era thought time travel was fanciful sci-fi, after all. What happened then? He dropped the baggie on the bed, clasped his face in his hands and groaned, the number of calculations he needed to do making his head hurt. He really needed to stop pulling his solutions out of his ass, he was going to give himself a time-hemorrhoid. Time was wasting. "Wow, Mark," Becky mused as she sat in her lounger, sipping at the Falernian wine. Her bottles were almost gone, and they'd soon have to go back to their secret place in the woods and get more. It had been a rather involved operation, getting the giant vats aged a certain number of years back in the Roman era, then transporting them into the present and burying them again, so that they had a large stock of perfectly aged wine. "You sure like to play with fire, don't you?" "Tell me about it," he said wearily, as he sat on the couch, long pull drink from his own wine glass. "Can't believe it went off without a hitch." "You were near death that first night with me," Becky said rather somberly, concerned about the stress on her student's face. "And that only required one trip on your part, and my belief in myself. This little circus, however, I'll be amazed if your time cops don't show up to lecture you again. You'd deserve it." "I felt trapped, okay?" he said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. He knew Becky was right, and he didn't want to snap at her. It had just really worn him out. He'd lost track of when he was supposed to be there, and how often. He'd eventually concluded that dumb luck had saved him from criminal charges, not to mention any other headaches. "I just; when telling her the truth didn't make her go away, I jumped into my playbook, which at this time, consists of what I did with you." "What would you have done, exactly, if she'd believed you about the Holmes Field Device?" Becky queried, looking at him with interest. He considered and gave a halfhearted shrug. "I guess I knew she wouldn't, because if I told Roxy I was a guy, she'd yank my pants down to make sure. But to answer your question, I; I dunno. I was just really outta options." "I know you know this, Mark, but we obviously have to find ways for you to be even more careful," she said in a gentle tone. "You haven't timelocked yourself yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if you came really close there." "No shit," he muttered, scowling at his glass. "Sorry, just stressed." "Oh, poor baby," Becky cooed, getting out of her seat and coming over to sit down next to Mark. She pulled him into lean on her and then rested his face between her opulent tits, knowing exactly the effect this would have on him. "Just relax, it's all fine now." Mark sighed and nuzzled into her tits, relaxing a little. His teacher's scent and her glorious softness had a calming effect on his frazzled nerves. "Uhd, we should go on vacation in some remote time for a year or so. I could use it." Becky giggled, stroking her fingers through her student's dark hair. "If only we could." "Well, why couldn't we?" Mark reasoned, still nuzzling and refusing to leave his nest. "We've got a time machine, don't we?" "Mark, a two-week vacation is one thing, but longer stretches are problematic." "Why?" Becky sighed and put down her wine, opting to just hold him while he nuzzled her boobs. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy the sensation, after all. She knew that Mark, even though he was at least as experienced a time traveler as she was at this point, was still an eighteen-year-old boy, who had failed her Physics course. He just wasn't good at this stuff yet. But he took her with him readily, and she would have all the patience in the world until he caught up. If he ever did. "Mark, let's say you and I did indeed go on vacation for a year, somewhere in the time stream," she began, still stroking his wavy, dark hair. "And let's say we left tonight." "Sounds good, I'm in," Mark replied in a muffled tone. She smirked and continued. "And we come back after a year, to, say, an hour after we left, no one would notice, right?" "That's the beauty of it," he agreed, nodding in her boobs. "But we'd notice," she pointed out. We'd be a whole year older than when we left. When you got back, everyone would be trying to celebrate your nineteenth birthday, when, in reality, you're twenty. And you're the only one aside from me who k

The Time Riders: Part 8 A Date With Death. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Into the pit. Domitia was brought through the streets, which were lined with huge crowds watching her somberly. She was attended by at least twenty soldiers, who walked in silence around her. Accompanying them were her former sister Vestals and the Pontifex Maximus, one of the greatest priests in Rome and head of the state religion. It was he who ultimately was in charge of the Virgins, both choosing them and stripping them of their office if the need arose. He walked ahead of her, his face grave. Domitia wore a simple white tunic now, but all other signs of her former life were gone. Her magnificent braids were undone, and her brown hair hung down her back shamefully. The colors she'd been allowed to wear were missing. In times past, disgraced Virgins had been excoriated, possibly just beaten with a rod, but now, in the height of mighty Rome's power, the punishment was death, for endangering the city. But no one was insane enough to spill the blood of a Vestal Virgin, disgraced or not, so her execution was not so direct. She would be sent underground into a small chamber, with a stock of food and supplies, and locked in there until she starved to death, or succumbed to sickness. They weren't killing her, per se; she was merely shunned until she died. Such was the way of Imperial Rome. Her condemnation and pronouncement of her fate had already been declared, at the beginning of this long walk, meant to be a show of penitence before the face of all Rome. And as humiliated and crushed as she was, her foremost thought was about Bonosus, and his magnificent cock. Even now, being led through the streets, her cunt was wet and ached to feel him buried inside her. Before she knew it, they had arrived at their destination, a small area in the north of the city, with a plot dug into the ground. Stopping at its edge, she looked down inside; the walls were lined with wood, probably to prevent a collapse, and there seemed to be a small stool and a cot within. She heard hysterical sobbing from nearby, and turned her head to see her mother, her birth mother, Pompeneia, weeping from behind the barricade of guards and calling out to her. Domitia's heart ached for a moment, but then she turned her gaze back to the den prepared for her. Her fate was sealed. She glanced over to look at her sister Vestals, but they refused to look at her, staring ahead resolutely. She could see tears in dear Silla's eyes, though; she had hurt the Sisterhood badly, and this was how she was to pay for it. So be it. With all the dignity she could muster, Domitia swallowed her fear and stepped forward, turning and climbing down the ladder, descending roughly ten feet until she reached the earthen floor. There were small candles burning on some stone surfaces, allowing for dim light. She looked upward, and the last thing she saw was the face of the Pontifex Maximus looking down at her, his expression unreadable, before a heavy door was slammed down and locked, cutting off all light and all sound from above. She shuddered at the sound, her stomach twisting in knots. She knew that there was no way out. The door would be weighted, and guards set outside for weeks, to prevent anyone from trying to rescue her. Despite her fear, she looked around, noting the small amount of food supplies left for her, and a small, narrow hole dug in one corner where she was to relieve herself. It wouldn't do to have a Vestal Virgin stinking of shit, even a disgraced one, and even in death. The silence was almost terrifying. She slumped into the small chair left for her, shivering and biting her lip as she felt that her cunt was still wet, the sticky lips parting slightly as she spread her legs. Thoughts of Bonosus returned to her, and she couldn't help but reach down beneath her tunic and begin rubbing her fingers over herself. The fear she felt melted away as she tickled her throbbing clit and teased her warm nether lips. Domitia closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure. If she was to die in this hateful place, it would be while cumming, thinking of that magnificent cock, spurting inside her one last time; The wall opposite her creaked and opened, the stout wooden boards pulling away. Domitia almost yelped in shock, but she didn't stop playing with herself. She stared in astonishment as a tall blonde woman came inside, carrying a torch. Following her was Nanu, a slave-girl that Domitia would have sworn belonged to her parents. "Well, hello, Domitia," the blonde woman said, smiling at her. "I'm Lady Aurora Horatia, Bonosus' mistress. Are you ready to get out of here?" Domitia nodded, but then paused, reconsidering as her fingers plunged in and out of her molten cunt. "Can you; give me just a moment here?" the former Virgin asked sheepishly. Into the Arena. Mark winced and squinted as the great gate opened, allowing light to flood into the dark tunnel. The grinding and heaving of the gears that moved the iron-reinforced barriers echoed loudly, and his heart pounded in anxiety. He was almost hyperventilating, and he could feel the blood racing through his veins. Maybe taking the adrenalin tab he'd finally found stashed behind a loose brick wasn't such a good idea. And no instructions, either. He reminded himself to punch himself in the face when he saw himself again. Hey, at least he knew he survived. He felt himself shoved roughly out into the arena, looking around in bewilderment as tens of thousands of people all shouted and jeered at him. Part of the huge stadium was cast into shadow because of the giant canvas awning that covered a full third of its seating and the arena in the center. He thought it was called the Velarium, but he wasn't sure. The roaring noise of the crowds hurt his ears, and he felt dizzy. The tab's effects apparently hadn't evened out in him yet. Maybe he should have taken it earlier? Wearing his itchy burlap loincloth, a rope belt, sandals and nothing else, Mark wandered slowly toward the center of the sandy field, his cudgel in hand. The echoing sounds of the crowd were maddening, and he felt almost dizzy. What was the purpose of this damn tab, anyway? Guards approached him. His urge was to run, but where would he go? Trembling, he stood his ground and waited for them. One of them grabbed him roughly and spun him about to face something, shoving him to one knee. Mark gasped, but then looked up and paused. On the other side of the giant stadium, sitting in a shaded box, was a man wearing purple, surrounded by guards and other dignitaries. It had to be the Emperor. The most powerful man in the world. If only he knew which one it was. Maybe he could've gotten an autograph. He chuckled bitterly at his joke, but the guard holding him told him to shut up and slapped him across the back of the head. Mark's eyes snapped open and fury flared through him. He surged to his feet and his shoulder-block knocked the guard backwards, to the astonishment of the audience. The guard and another one nearby drew their weapons and were about to kill him, when trumpets blared from all around the perimeter of the Colosseum. Mark looked around warily, seeing the reaction of the crowds as the two guards withdrew. Drums sounded out now, and more trumpets. He looked over at the emperor, his eyes going wide as he noticed a familiar, stunning blonde woman in a seat next to him and watching Mark with a smirk. Kneeling beside her was Nanu. "Jesus, Becky, there's a million people in Rome; how many did you fuck?" he muttered, scowling. He heard the gates clanking open again and spun to face them, his heart racing again. From the dark tunnel strode a stout, bald man wearing leather armour on his shoulder and a metal-studded skirt, carrying a shield and wielding a small axe. "What is this, fetish night at the Colosseum?" Mark complained loudly as the man began to run toward him. Mark braced himself, watching warily. His earlier anxiety was being replaced by anger, and a desire to either flee or fight. He'd just trust to his adrenalin and hope that his future self knew what the Hell he was doing. The gladiator ran up and swung at Mark, who ducked and came up behind his foe. Before the man could turn, Mark struck him across the back of the head with his cudgel. The man crashed to the ground face-first. The crowd was yelling in outrage and astonishment. Apparently, that wasn't supposed to happen. The man showed no signs of rising, merely stirring feebly and groaning, a huge goose egg rising on the back of his head. Hastily, Mark leaned down and pulled the round wooden shield off the man's arm and pried the axe from his grip. He stood up, trying to control his breathing. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. He looked around, making sure no one was approaching him from any other direction, but nobody seemed to be forthcoming. Where was his next foe? It dawned on him that he hadn't been expected to last beyond this first fight. They were probably scrambling to figure out what to do next. Doubtless they'd be finding another gladiator to throw at him. He chanced a glance up at Becky, but she sat still, simply watching him. He didn't blame her; she was supposed to have turned on him, after all. He did notice that she was keeping one leg crossed over the other and bouncing her thighs subtly. Maybe the hormones weren't completely out of her system yet. Or it could have just been normal horny Becky. Who knew at this point? A few seconds later, the gates on another section of the concave wall that surrounded him opened slowly, and out strode a tall man, wearing only a loincloth like himself and greaves, but carrying a weighted net in one hand, and a trident in the other. "Trident!" Mark exclaimed to himself, remembering. "That's what those fucking things are called! Now I can; Hey!"

The Time Riders: Part 7 Becoming A Slave Owner. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Cast of Characters: Mark Simmons: 18 year old High School grad, enamored with Miss Becky Fischer. He finds the time machine and builds a new life. Uses various aliases in traveling. Rebecca 'Becky' Fischer: Mark’s Physics teacher. Very intelligent, in her later twenties, Shapely Tall Blonde, lusty bisexual, D Cup tits. Martial arts expert, Uses various aliases in traveling. Henri: Claims to be a French physician and Apothicary. Chester Edgerton: Time traveling mentor, living in 17th Century French village. Cardinal Richelieu: ‘The Red Duke’. Statesman and Roman Catholic Cardinal. Dispises Queen Anne. Alexandra D'Assaut ('Alexa', or 'Lexi': Lady in waiting (and trusted advisor) to Queen Anne of France, Lusty bisexual, Very Tall, Busty DD tits, long golden blonde hair, Blue eyed. Lisette: servant (and lover) of Lady Alexandra, young, bespeckled brown eyes. Short, shapely, with wavy dark hair, bisexual. Dhallyla: Mark's mother. Roxy: Mark's sister. Nanu: An Egyptian slave of Pompeneia Flavius, purchased by Becky, dark complexion. Pompeneia: Roman hostess of Orgies. Lusty wife of Flavius, Mother of Domitia, bisexual, tall and shapely. Flavius: Roman aristocrat, husband of Pompeneia, protective father of Dometia, Domitia: Lusty young daughter of Pompeneia and Flavius. A pledged Vestal Virgin, Escapes to Sumeria when sentenced to death by starvation by Roman court. Pompeneia looked at Nanu and spoke to her somewhat tersely. "You are now owned by the Lady Aurora Horatia, who has purchased you at a fair price from me. Such belongings as you might have, girl, will be leaving with you when the Lady departs. Understood?" Nanu's eyes widened and she felt her heart suddenly pounding in her chest in shock and delight. Unable to contain her smile, she nodded eagerly. Pompeneia looked back at her guest and smiled. "She is all yours, my lady." Becky looked at Nanu and smirked, making a shooing motion with her hand. "Well, what are you waiting for, girl? Go find that lazybones Bonosus and tell him." Nanu was gone in a flash. Becky turned to look at Pompeneia and smiled wickedly as she leaned her back down on the couch and wiggled her way between Pompeneia’s hips, so that her mouth was at her hostess' cunt. "Now, how about I find another way to thank you for your generosity?" she purred as she began sliding her tongue along those sticky lips; Mark was wandering through the darkened rooms of the parts of the house not currently being used by the orgy, still looking for a damn lavatory. Why the Hell did the Romans have such fucked-up house layouts? He'd passed about ten servants' bedrooms already; was he just supposed to piss on one of them? He paused as he heard a quiet noise, one he recognized quickly as sighing. It had been coming from a room nearby, and it was definitely a girl's sigh. Or a really femmy boy slave. You couldn't guess in ancient Rome. Either way, he decided to investigate. He tiptoed forward, looking into various dark rooms he'd passed. He heard another sigh, and then something more akin to a moan. He smiled slyly, identifying the room it had finally come from. He crept up and peered around the open wooden doors to look inside; She had her back to him, but inside the dark chamber, which was obviously a bedroom, was a young woman, with her face seemingly pressed to the far wall, and squirming her hips beneath her expensive clothing and beginning to pant. She had voluminous brown hair worn up on her head, exposing a shapely neck, and her stola dress had ridden up high enough to expose her lush ass cheeks, which were quivering and squeezing while she fingered herself. Grinning, Mark leaned against the door frame and just watched quietly. He wasn't beyond a good show. A tiny point of light near her head finally showed Mark what she was doing; there was a small hole in the wall, big enough for her to see through, and she was clearly watching the orgy happening on the other side. She was also clearly having a great time getting off to it. He liked the sight of her, at least, what he could readily see; she had a great ass, a slender back and shapely legs. Her dark brown hair, worn in several braids, was just begging to be pulled on. He couldn't see her cunt from here, but he could definitely hear how wet she was. He quietly entered the room and glided up behind her. She smelled of iris and roses, a perfume he found thrilling, especially here in this dark room, both of them unseen by the scores of others in the villa. His cock, still hard and throbbing, couldn't wait to be buried deep inside her. He moved in close and pressed up against her, his rigid shaft sliding between her legs. She shuddered in shock and drew in a breath, as if she was about to scream; but he quickly and gently clamped his hand over her mouth and wrapped his other hand around her waist. Her moved his head next to her ear. "You don't need to scream or be frightened," he whispered, feeling her still shaking. "I am the Lady Aurora's servant Bonosus, and I just want to be with you this day;” She turned her head, her eyes wide, as she tried to see him, his hand still loosely over her mouth. Her body was still stiff in possible panic, but she hadn't cried out yet. He smiled at her, trying to assure her he meant no harm. "If I let go of your mouth, will you scream?" he asked. The girl shook her head. For whatever reason, Mark believed her, and removed his hand from her mouth, and his arm from around her waist. She didn't run, but she threw herself against the wall she was standing next to, almost clutching at it as she turned around to face him. Her eyes were still wide, and he could see she was breathing heavily. "See? I'm not gonna hurt you," Mark said, smiling cheerfully. Staying pressed against the wall for safety, she looked him up and down slowly, noticing now that he was quite naked. Her eyes lingered on his erect cock for several seconds, as if captivated by it. He could now see her from the front, and what he was looking at pleased him; she had a pretty face, certainly. Not exotic, like Nanu, nor was she as striking and just plain gorgeous as Becky, but it was a pretty face nonetheless. Her eyes were brown, her cheekbones high, and her mouth sensual and full. The face; he knew it. Lady Pompeneia and Master Flavius! This must be their daughter. He continued looking at her body, noting now that her entire outfit was askew; not only had her dress been pushed up around her hips in front, to allow her to finger herself, but the top of her dress was pulled down, no doubt so that she could play with her pert tits. They were not large, but looked perfectly full on her slender frame, capped with brown aureoles and nipples, which were still hard. She had a tiny waist and womanly hips. He was going to enjoy fucking her. "My name is Bonosus, like I said," he repeated, moving in a tiny bit closer to her. She didn't try to escape, but perhaps flattened herself a little more against the wall. He tried not to seem so forceful. And odd thing, since he was at an orgy, and was already used to just fucking whomever he liked. "Would you tell me your name?" She finally spoke, her voice low and quiet. "My name is Domitia. I am the daughter of your hosts, the Master and Mistress Flavius." "I am very happy to meet you, Domitia," he said, smiling and nodding. In his ear, he could hear the implant translate her name as 'she who is tamed'. He suddenly had a very good feeling about this encounter. "In the name of my mistress' goddess, Feronia, I would ask you to join me in making love." "You; you are kind, Bonosus," she stammered, her face pale, but a flush in her cheeks. Her eyes were no longer wide, but turning glassy. "But I must; I shouldn't;” "I thought today was a day where all people cast aside their inhibitions, and did exactly as they pleased," he reasoned, stepping a little closer, noticing that she did not attempt to move away from him. "I already saw you looking through that hole there;” Now Domitia blushed furiously, turning her head to look at the ground. "I am ashamed; I should not; I shouldn't have been;” "What were you looking at, anyway?" he queried, pressing himself against her, his cock now flat against her belly, separated from her skin only by the fine material of her stola. She shivered as she felt his cock press to her, and her hands reached up and flexed, without touching him. Leaning over her shoulder, her wondrous scent in his nostrils, he closed one eye and peered through the tiny hole in the ochre-painted wall. He smiled slyly as he could see that the hole looked out on the palaestra, the courtyard in which he and Becky (and several others) had been fucking earlier. Even now, he could see a man bending a slave girl over in the shallow pool and fucking her from behind, while two women beyond the pool were lying opposite each other, legs scissored and slithering their pussies together. One of them was sucking on the cock of a slave who leaned over her, moaning and fondling her tits. "Well, you were enjoying yourself, clearly," Mark mused, turning and smirking at her. She looked at him, trying to smile back, but then just blushing and looking at the ground again. At least she wasn't trying to leave anymore. "Would you like to watch through the hole again while I fuck you from behind?" Something in his suggestion made her tense very suddenly, and she looked at him again, her eyes now wide. "I; shouldn't; no, my parents must not know I'm here, they; I should return to my domicile." "Are you married?" he asked, thinking that even if she was, she had showed up at her parents' orgy and was making herself cum, even if she'd been hiding. Marriage didn't seem to be a barrier during an orgy, near as he could tell. By his count, he'd

The Time Riders: Part 6 An Orgy In Imperial Rome. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Another Time Excursion. "How's your head?" Becky asked as they walked down the hallway, gazing in wonder at the ornate mosaic that covered the floor and stretched ahead of them. The walls, no doubt made of brick, were covered in plaster, upon which colorful (and often erotic) frescoes were painted. While the clothing she was wearing in theory resembled the stola and other clothes worn by Roman women, hers was considerably abbreviated, if not downright scandalous. The white garment hung off her sensual curves, spilling away from her voluptuous tits, which could be seen through the mostly diaphanous material. Gold bracelets and bangles adorned her arms and a thin gold chain with tiny jewels sat on her ankle. She was wearing her golden-blonde hair up atop her head, but playful wisps and curls hung down in places, giving it a sassy and almost playful look. A gold-colored belt cinched in at her tiny waist, making her bust look even bigger. Mark grimaced and lightly thumped the heel of his palm against the side of his head, as if trying to jar his brain loose. "It kinda hurts, to be honest, like a buzzing headache," he muttered, waiting for his eye to stop twitching. "Who'd have thought getting advanced cybernetics installed in your noggin would hurt?" "Oh, come now, you're hardly Steve Austin," Becky chided, smiling at his outfit while they walked. "It was just a little bio-chip installed into your Broca's area to help you get by quickly with the whole language thing." "Well, if Latin is supposed to sound like the white noise on a grandpa TV combined with a mosquito buzzing in your ear, then it's working," Mark groused, wiggling his jaw to see if opening up his ear canals helped at all in getting rid of this unwelcome phenomenon. "How long did they say it usually lasted?" "Just an hour," Becky replied, stopping and fiddling with Mark's tunic, adjusting it to show off his handsome physique to best effect. The simple leather belt hung loosely on his small waist, more for contrast than anything. He was wearing very simple sandals on his feet. She hadn't had to do very much to his dark hair to achieve the look she wanted, merely tousling it after rubbing in a little olive oil, making it wavy and pleasing to look at. "Should stop any time now." And as if acceding to the lovely woman's request, the buzzing and throbbing stopped suddenly. Mark's eyes widened slightly at the sudden quiet inside his cranial grape. Becky saw his expression change and smiled, knowing what had happened. "Hmm," she purred, tracing a finger down his form and over his cock beneath his period clothes. "Estne volumen in tunica, an solum tibi libet me videre?" Mark grinned, understanding what she had said. "Ego sum laetus video vidi te!" he replied readily. "Well, I know you're happy to see these;” Becky whispered, leaning close and using a finger to tug down the edge of her barely-there clothing and exposing her tit to him, the pink nipples begging for his attention. "But;” she said, replacing the clothing and standing up again, "; we're here to take part in a Roman orgy, so we'd best get moving now that you're feeling better." Mark exhaled, composing himself after her tease, and nodded. "All right. So what's the drill again?" "Your name is Bonosus," Becky instructed, touching up his outfit again. "You're a slave from Spain, meaning that you have no rights. But don't worry, I own you, and I am very specific about who can do what with you." "So, no guy is gonna try and fuck me in the ass, right?" Mark asked somewhat nervously, smiling. Becky smiled: "Pity you won't try it, you might like it. However, no, I'll simply explain that you're off-limits to men, because you're being saved for my uncle, who is away on the German border. Me, I'm a patrician woman, visiting Rome, and I'm looking for a good time. My name is Aurora. If you really need my attention and are worried about speaking in Latin, we'll speak in English, quietly. Got it?" "Okay, what should I expect?" he queried. "I did a little research, looking for who had a reputation for throwing orgies and parties that tended to bring out the morals police," she answered, adjusting her own outfit now. Neither of them was wearing undergarments, and if the light caught the bottom portion of her so-called dress just right, Mark could see her cunt. "This villa is far enough on the outskirts of Rome that we're very unlikely to get a visit." She leaned back against the wall, smiling saucily as she drew him into her, their pelvises pressing together as she looked up at him. "So we're going to go in there, and fuck, and fuck, and fuck, with anyone and everyone we choose," she whispered in his ear. "Fuck every single girl that catches your fancy, Mark. Those anacept pills we took will cover us against all known transmitted diseases for a week, and they make us temporarily infertile. No consequences. And the tiny tabs on our skin will keep our libidos from flagging for a whole day." "That sounds great," he agreed, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Really great." "Mark, I am going to behave like I haven't since my wildest nights in college," Becky said softly, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair as she looked up into his eyes. He could feel her breathing getting heavy. She was really turned on by what they were about to do. "Are you sure you're prepared to see me like that?" Mark nodded: "I don't own you, Becks. We're time travel partners, and damned good ones. It's not like we're in love. Do what you like, I promise, it's fine." "Hmm, just when I thought you couldn't get more attractive;” she purred, pulling him in for a deep kiss while they leaned against the wall. She broke the kiss and looked up at him. "Do' you remember where all our supplies are, in case things happen to go south?" Mark nodded again. "Back in the little vestibule near the servants' rooms. I remember. Now let's do this; Mistress Aurora." "God, I could get used to hearing that," Becky sighed, shivering as she straightened up and prepared herself. "Remember; lots of drinking, eating, music, dancing and fucking. Do whatever the Hell feels good tonight, Mark, this is a real Roman orgy." She took him by the hand and smiled wickedly. "Now let's go get 'em, tiger;” Mark was laughing and drinking wine from a silver goblet, while watching a group of slave girls dance in the middle of the floor. The girls, who were clearly from all around the Empire, were whirling and cavorting about while drums and cymbals clashed out a rhythmic beat for them to follow. They wore sheer material draping down from their waists between their legs, and nothing else. Their tits bounced and jiggled about as they twirled about one another, letting out sensuous calls on occasion. The hosts of the day's festivities, a patrician man named Flavius and his lovely wife Pompeneia, were very wealthy, and they owned over five hundred slaves, spread out among three separate properties spaced around the capital. Mark had even heard tell that they owned land in Egypt and Byzantium. Wealthy indeed. There were nearly fifty proper guests, excluding slaves and attendants, so the place was fairly bustling with people. Patricians, plebeians, freedmen, freedwomen and slaves, all were to enjoy themselves tonight. And all at the request of the guest of honor, the stunning Aurora of the fabled Horatius family. Mark pried his eyes away from the dancing girls long enough to look around for his 'mistress'. He finally espied her, lying stretched out on a lectus, along with their hostess, Pompeneia, hungrily swallowing one another's tongue while they groped each other. Against all odds, 'Aurora' still had her clothes on, although only barely. Mistress Horatia Aurora had, as guest of honor, requested that in the name of the goddess Feronia, that the slaves be allowed to celebrate tonight as well, free of consequence, as long as they also performed their assigned duties. If not actively seeing to an assignment, they were allowed to sit, although they had to accede their seat to anyone of a higher station who needed it. They would also still oblige guests who wished to be serviced by the slave in question, and the Flavius household's slaves were all available to anyone who attended. Mark looked back at the dance now, seeing that it was winding down, with the girls letting out calls that there supposed to represent cranes or herons crying out for mates. That was an invitation for anyone inclined to come and take them once the dance had ended. They all fell still in various poses as the drums and cymbals stopped and the room erupted in applause and cheers for their efforts. Mark smiled as one bronze-skinned beauty on the floor caught his eye. As the dancers dispersed into the crowd, she slowly walked over to him, her deep hazel eyes liquid with passion. Mark greeted her with a cup of wine, offering it to her. "I thank you," she said in a heavy accent, her Latin speech seeming formal. "Tonight is a special night indeed, is it not?" Mark paused for a half second as the tiny chip in his brain listened to what she was saying and translated it for him. Weirder still, it translated what she was saying in her voice, but in English. Her English voice sounded quite amazing to him, and he felt a stirring in his loins as he gazed at her body. He thought of how to respond, the translation coming to him readily, in his voice, so that he knew how to sound when he said it. This technology blew his mind, somewhat literally. "Yeah," he replied in Latin, nodding as he clinked his silver goblet against hers. "I am enjoying it. You dance very well." "I have to," she replied, using two hands to bring the goblet up to her lips and sipping from it, as if she'd never had wine before. Hell, maybe she hadn't for all he k

The Time Riders: Part 5 A Labyrinth Palace. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. The non-descript carriage had indeed made its way through Paris' winding streets, taking well over an hour to finally stop in front of the palace and allowing Mark to get out of the cramped cab before it rattled off. The sun had set some time ago, and night hung over the city heavily, the cloying air of Paris carrying the city's growing pains to his ears. Even at night, the city was not silent. Mark adjusted his outfit and marched toward the outermost gate of the vast palace, its arms spread wide and encompassing a massive courtyard. Two men wearing ornate red uniforms and holding pikes crossed their weapons at his approach, barring his entry. One of them gruffly asked him to state his business. Trusting to the plan, Mark said nothing, but merely held out one of his sealed letters, this one bearing the emblem of Richelieu. The guard examined it for several seconds, consulting with the other guard before handing it back and then opening the gate. Mark shot them both a dirty look for holding him up in his errand and then swept inside, doing his best to look haughty and full of bravado, which is what the Musketeers were apparently renowned for. He couldn't help but reflect that they seemed a lot less heroic than history let on and were more dickbags than anything else. Oh well. Faking being a dickbag was probably significantly easier than pretending to be a hero. He passed through another gate that got him closer to the palace, this one also manned by the Swiss Guard. He arrogantly presented them with the Richelieu missive, which once again satisfied their scrutiny and he was allowed to pass. He forced himself to not look around in wonder at his surroundings, instead heading straight to the great doors that would give him admittance to the palace. Alex once again presented his letter, but this time the guards squinted at him suspiciously. "Qui es tou?" demanded one of them. His throat was dry, but he answered as readily as he could, trying to sound authoritative and even haughty. "J'mappelle Benat de Ferres, of Soule, Second Company of the King's Musketeers under Monsieur de Treville. Let me through." "Fucking Basques and Gascons," muttered one of the guards in irritation. "Why would a musketeer be bringing a missive to his excellency, the Cardinal?" he demanded to know. Mark concealed his anxiety by looking pissed and rattling off one of the phrases Alexandra had given him, hoping it had the desired effect. "I have an idea, why don't we all go ask the Cardinal and you can fucking explain to him why you held up his envoy on an important errand? Does that sound good to you?" The two men looked at one another warily; the visitor was certainly obnoxious enough to be a Musketeer and a Gascon. Sighing and shaking his head in defeat, the one man handed the sealed letter back to Mark and they opened the doors, allowing him entrance. He swept by them, calling them shitheads in Spanish before the doors closed behind him. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help Gawking as he stared at the palace around him; its splendor was beyond anything he had imagined. Walls of white plaster, carved in exquisite shapes and edged in royal purple, along with gold filigree, and incredible paintings and artifacts lined the walls. Endless numbers of servants scurried by, hardly noticing him. He shut his eyes for a moment and composed himself, remembering the details Alexandra had shown him, the way through the palace. He turned and began his search for his teacher. Lisette walked primly through the halls of the palace, bowing her head deferentially to just about everyone who passed her. Wearing an elegant gown, she seemed to almost glide along the hallway, walking with a practiced ease that her mistress had taught her. She had, in three years, only been in the royal presence twice before, in attendance to Lady Alexandra. The king had barely noticed her, but Lisette didn't mind one bit, because this was far more of a life than she ever could have hoped for. She had, of course, spent much more time in the presence of the queen, because her mistress served Anne directly. Anne of Austria seemed mostly amused by Lady Alexandra's quirky servant, but she was kind to Lisette, often sending her home with gifts of chocolate. Her devotion to the queen, while not equal to her fanatic love for Lady Alexandra, meant she would die in Anne's name if necessary. She hoped it wouldn't come to that tonight, but she had made her peace with God and the Lady Mary all the same. Alexandra had set her with the task of removing or distracting every guard she could from the route Mark would take through the palace. She was not to kill anyone, nor was she to be seen in the mayhem, if at all possible. If things went wrong, she was to retreat to the queen's quarters and be seen protecting her. It was the best alibi she could hope for. A guard up ahead. He was a sullen-looking brute, not carrying the long pikes of the gate guards, but a much more practical halberd, along with a short rapier on his belt. She knew he'd be trouble. She ducked into an alcove and pulled a small phial out of her cleavage, drinking the strong red wine from it and sloshing it around in her mouth, to make sure the aroma was on her breath. Replacing the phial, she lurched back out into the hallway and sauntered toward him lazily. "Hello, beautiful," she said drunkenly, giving him a lopsided smile. "You must' be off-duty by now." "No, I am not," he grunted, not looking at her. "Go away, slut." "C'mon," Lisette persisted, leering at him as she leaned against the wall to his left. "We could be having fun. Don' you like fun?" "Duty is not meant to be fun." "But these are fun," she drawled, as she stepped in front of him and leaned forward, using her hands to pull down the front of her bodice and exposing her perky tits to the man, whose eyes went wide at the sight. "These are all the fun you'll need;” He didn't stop her as she sidled up to him, stood on her tip-toes and put her arms around his neck. Her breath was sweet with wine, her dark eyes glassy with the lack of inhibition it brought on. Her tits pressed to his chest, her hips flat to his crotch. "Take me into that room and fuck me;” she breathed huskily, her lips no more than an inch from his. "I want to feel you inside me;” The man was rather pale at her suggestion, but nodded readily and turned around to open the door. The parlor behind was empty, the perfect place for a rendezvous with this slattern. She took him by the hand and led him inside, closing the door behind them. Mark walked down the hallway, trying to not look like he was hurrying, and staying alert. He was entering a difficult part of the operation, because he was no longer in an area of the palace that led to either the king's quarters or those of Cardinal Richelieu. If anyone stopped him now, he would probably be redirected rather forcefully, and he had precious little time to waste. He walked by a door, from which he heard a moaning noise. Then he heard a familiar woman's voice, gasping and urging someone on. His translator bud wasn't close enough to hear what was being said, but he was fairly certain he knew what was happening. He subtly pushed the door open and peered inside. Mark gaped as he watched Lisette, leaning over a small table, panting while a member of the House Guard fucked her from behind, her layered skirt bunched over her ass as he pushed in and out of her. The guard remained oblivious, but she noticed the door open and flicked a glance his way. She gave him an annoyed look and jerked her head, indicating that she had this covered and he needed to keep moving. He nodded and pulled the door shut quietly before heading down the hall again. He turned a corner and then headed up some stairs, leading up to the next floor, which was apparently where Becky was being kept. He was so busy thinking about what he needed to do next that he blundered right into two guards, who grunted and then glared at him angrily. "Stupid shit!" the one man he had smacked into spat. "Watch where you are; who are you?" Mark went wide-eyed, not having expected them. His mouth seemed to work, but no sounds came forth. They blocked his ascent and continued to glare at him. "Who; are; you?" the man demanded again. Mark regained control of his voice and tried to speak. "My name is; my name is Benat;” Fuck, he'd forgotten his last name. "My name is Benat DeFlepard," he managed to say. "I am from Sully and I have’ "What sort of name is DeFlepard?" snarled the one guard. "I have sealed orders," Mark interrupted, not liking where this was going. "From the Cardinal!" "Is that so?" sneered the man. "Let's see them!" Mark handed him the sealed missive scroll. The man examined it and frowned. "This is the king's seal," he growled. "What is the meaning of this?” Before the man could finish his query, Mark punched him in the face and then pulled his crème-colored tabard over his head and threw him down the stairs. The guard cursed loudly as he rolled at least two floors. Mark was too late to stop the other man from drawing his short rapier, but managed to grapple onto him, keeping himself from being run through. Mark might have been taller, but the guard was a veteran of many wars, strong and cunning. It wasn't long before he had Mark's back pressed against the wall, both men fighting for balance on the stairs. "Little shit!" he shouted, trying to press the edge of his blade against Mark's throat and slit it. They tussled, and Mark managed to wedge his arm between his neck and the rapier, feeling the sickening cold pain of the keen edge creasing his forearm. His free hand, however, snaked down to the pistol on his belt, twisting the leather until the muzzle pointed down; The stairwell

The Time Riders: Part 4 A daring attempt to rescue Becky from Cardinal Richelieu. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. “Your Becky sounds like a very strong woman." Lady Alexandra reflected when Mark told of their conflicts in the time journey to old France. "Actually," Mark said, blushing again. "She reminds me of you, or you remind me of her. You actually look quite a bit alike." She smiled sweetly and reached forward to touch his knee. "High praise for me indeed, then. Am I right in assuming that she speaks French since you do not?" Mark nodded. "Then she should be safe inside the Louvre, which is where my mistress the queen is currently staying," Alexandra concluded. "So his Eminence is playing another little game, to make my mistress feel bad by bringing beautiful women into her service? We shall see to this, Mark, I promise you." "Thanks," he said. "I really, really appreciate this. You have no idea." "She must be very special to you." Alexandra said slyly. "Well, we're not in love, or anything," he said hastily, wishing he didn't have to keep explaining this. "But yeah, I guess you could say we're fond of one another, and she's the only person I time travel with." "Were I you," Alexandra said, sitting back now and taking another sip of one while crossing one leg over the other. "I would try to keep it that way. It has been explained to me, and it seems perfectly logical, that things just get more complicated when you involve other people or try to do too many things?" "You don't look at all like you're from this time," Mark admitted. "Are you actually from the Sun King's France?" She nodded. "That I am, to a noble family of ancient lineage, going even back to the reign of Charlemagne. But in service to my queen, I take very good care of myself and am in the peak of health." "No kidding," Mark breathed, earning a smirk from Alexandra. "Chester said you're good with a sword?" She shrugged in a non-committal manner. "Suffice to say that I am not afraid to take on Les Troi Inseparables." Mark assumed that she meant Athos, Porthos and Aramis. "D'Artagnan too?" She laughed, a beautiful, crystalline sound. "Aye, even the irascible Gascon. Nor do I cringe before the Duke of Buckingham, who is said to be the greatest swordsman in Christendom, barring possibly my brother." "No recognition for you?" She shook her head. "I dare not, my service to the queen would be compromised. I am not driven by fame, Mark, but devotion and duty. Secrecy is all that allows me to continue in my task." "You're like Wonder Woman." Mark laughed. She looked at him and tilted her head. "Comment?" "A fictional heroine from my own time," he said, waving it off. "She's powerful, she's brilliant, she can fight, she can fly, she's compassionate. They've been writing and drawing stories about her for about seventy years now." "It sounds fun," she sighed. "But I do not wish to be ensnared in these time troubles, and I do everything I can to avoid them. The less I know, the better. Protecting my queen is enough." He nodded. "I promise to try and not add to your troubles in this, and I'm sorry." "You needn't be," she said easily, draining her glass. "The debt I owe Chester for this is many years old, I am surprised that he has not called it in before now, to be honest. How long has Becky been at the Louvre?" Mark thought about that. "Uh; a week to get to the palace from where we were; then three weeks; and then it took me a week to get here, so best guess is four weeks." Alexandra nodded and considered. "The initial intense scrutiny she would have been under will be relaxing after a month. They are no doubt still training her, but she sounds very bright, so they will be eager to move her into the court." Mark nodded. "Alright, what do we do? Run in with pistols blazing and swords unsheathed?" She paused in her ruminations and looked at him for a moment before shaking her head slowly, saying nothing. She poured herself another glass of wine and nocked it back before sighing and returning to her thoughts. "Uh, may I ask a question?" Mark said somewhat meekly. Alexandra looked at him and waited. "If; you're one of the queen's ladies-in-waiting," Mark said somewhat awkwardly. "Shouldn't you have at least seen or have heard of Becky by now? I gotta admit, she's like you, she's really hard to miss." The French woman smiled prettily. "I have been away some two months now on a delicate errand for my queen, one that took me south to Spain." "Pretending I was from Spain got me shot." Mark grumbled. Alexandra raised her eyebrows. "Ah, tu hablas español?" "Nope," Mark said, holding up his hands. "Not goin' through this again. So, what do we do, Miss; uh, Miss;” "Just call me Alexandra, cher," she said easily. "And if we become friends, you may call me Alexa." He nodded. "Okay, Alexandra. What is our plan?" "I shall think on that," she replied. "We will not be doing anything until at least tomorrow, I assure you. I only returned this morning and even the queen does not know I am back yet. That being said, you will be my guest here in my private apartments." "Uh, okay," he said. "That doesn't sound too bad, I guess." "It is convenient, for one thing, but another is perhaps a bit more personal and selfish on my part," Alexandra added. "Be honest with me, Mark." "Okay." "Would your Becky be hurt or jealous if you and I were to fuck?" she asked plainly. Mark thought about that for a moment and then shook his head. "She'd probably think there was something wrong with me if I didn't; to be honest. Besides, if she thinks I'm dead, what's the harm?" "Bien," the woman stated, nodding and standing. "Tonight, you and I shall, oh, what is that English saying; ride below the crupper." "Never heard that, but I'm in," he said, chuckling. "And do not worry, unlike most people of this day and age, I bathe daily, so you should not find my closeness offensive." Alexandra added. "I'm pretty sure you could smell like a federal stimulus pork bill and I wouldn't notice," he laughed. "Don't you have quarters at the Louvre?" She nodded. "Oui, but my mistress allows me to stay here when possible, since I am closer to the people of Paris this way. I can look out my window, see them and remind myself of my duty to them." "You're pretty complicated for a noblewoman." Mark admitted. "History doesn't think much of your class of people." "A deserved indictment, no doubt," she sighed. "Alors, I did not keep you here to bore you with such ephemera, I intend to pleasure you before making you risk your life again in the days ahead." The French Art of Feminine Disrobing. He watched from his chair as she slowly turned around and began the French art of feminine disrobing. She began by removing the rather poufy blouse she was wearing, revealing her shapely back. She was beautiful, but now he could see the lines of athleticism in her shoulders and torso, and still somehow with the affectation of being delicate and womanly. Alexandra then lifted one leg and removed her short boot deftly, then reversed her pose as she removed the other boot. Her feet were surprisingly dainty, but they seemed to be planted firmly on the floor. Undoing the tie of her breeches, she wiggled them down over her lovely hips, exposing her incredible behind. She bent over to push the article of clothing down the rest of her statuesque legs and in spite of the dim light, he could almost see her cunt just below those temping cheeks. She stood up straight and stepped elegantly out of the pool of her breeches, putting her hands over her bust as she turned her head to smile at him coyly. As he watched, she slowly came around so she was facing him now. If Mark's jaw could have literally fallen off, it would have. In the flickering candlelight, she was bewitching to behold. Her skin was creamy and flawless, fair and yearning to be kissed. Her womanly hips carried strength, melting into her glorious legs. Her snatch was hairless, something he didn't associate at all with the period; especially the French. "So, do you like what you see?" she purred, enjoying his reaction. He nodded dumbly and she allowed her hands to fall away from her tits, revealing them. Large and perfectly shaped, sitting high no doubt because of her strong back and shoulders, and crowned with small, pink nipples that made his mouth water. "Now perhaps it is time for you to show me the man I will enjoy?" Alexandra said softly, smiling. "Stand up and let me see you, Mark." He couldn't do a thing about his hard-on, so he didn't even bother trying to conceal it. Still sitting, he removed his boots and socks before standing. Without any of the grace displayed by his anticipated new lover, Mark fumbled off his shirt, revealing his chest. He wasn't overly muscular, of course, but he had more than enough tone and definition because of the sports he'd played. She smiled and just watched quietly. He undid the tie of his breeches and bent over to pull them off. When he stood back up, his cock sprang to full attention, wobbling in front of him slightly. Alexandra nodded, apparently in approval. "Men of days to come seem to be gifted." Alexandra stated in a sultry voice as she stepped forward, moving toward him. “Or, perhaps today, for you; my dear Alexandra?” Mark flirted in a manner even he found uncharacteristically competent. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest as the blonde goddess stepped closer and closer to him. She was then standing directly in front of him, her glorious pelvic mound almost touching the tip of his pulsing erection. He thought he might cum right on the spot. Her elegant hand slowly reached out to take hold of his turgid shaft, the fingers wrapping around gently and giving him the lightest of squeezes. "And now," she said in a whisper. "We shall’ The lock on

The Time Riders: Part 3 What happens when you mix clock-block with priapism? Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Ain't Nobody Got Time For That Shit! Mark and Becky sat in the small cottage, looking around in wonder. They were still in Seventeenth Century France, but found themselves surrounded by technologies that they hadn't even heard of. The walls were lined with clocks, some of which were mechanical, some seemed to be digital or binary, while others told time in ways they couldn't fathom. Sitting across from them at the stout, round oaken table, Chester Edgerton smoked a pipe and observed them casually. "How; how can you have this all out on display?" Mark asked, still gaping. "I mean, isn't it against the rules to have this sort of tech from the future lying around where the locals might bump into it?" "That's the beauty of it, my' boy," he said cheerfully, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "They can't see it." "Well, I get it if you try to restrict entry to your house," Mark pressed, wanting to understand. "But what if you're gone and bandits break in? Becks and I can account for banditry in this day and age, for sure." "Mayhap," the man replied. "But I brought you through the door that leads to my actual house. The front door, the one the local peasantry sees, leads into a simple cottage, typical of the period, and owned by a pudgy man of indeterminate nationality." "Your; house is in two places at once?" Mark asked, trying to understand. "No, it's the same place," Chester answered simply. "Two different times, however. We're sitting in my actual abode, Twenty-First Century." Mark shook his head. "That's some weird Tardis shit right there." "Only at first." Chester allowed. "I notice you have all your windows shut," Becky remarked. "You said we're in the Twenty-First Century, but I take from further ahead than Mark and I are from, so you're not showing us?" "Clever girl," mused the man, smiling. "While I won't absolutely stop you from looking or even going outside, I would warn you that if you do and see something you don't like, you're committing yourself to that future, no matter how hard you try to undo it." "We'll stay put then," she said readily. "You were kind enough to bring us here and sort of explain how we might acquire goods in the time stream?" He nodded. "I know it might seem counter-intuitive, but the simple fact of the matter is that if people are going to insist on time travelling, the least they can do is be well-prepared for it so they don't hurt themselves or others." He leaned forward. "The first question you need to ask yourself is, why are you so intent on time-travelling to begin with? Is it simple curiosity? Are you planning to make a living somehow? Are you just trying to get laid?" He looked at Mark during this last question and the young man blushed, while Becky giggled and patted his hand. "Mark was a dud in Physics in his last year of high school," she explained. "Come to think of it, he was in little or no danger of getting into any post-secondary education facility." "Thanks." Mark muttered. "But, then he found his time machine, something called a Holmes Field Device, and he resolved to go back in time a few months and convince me to give him an A in Physics with the promise of earth-shaking sex." "This story sounds worse every time I hear it." Mark complained. "Fortunately, I acquiesced, rather than disemboweling him for breaking into my home, and not only did we become lovers, but now we're adventuring the time stream together." "Hmm, a teacher and a student, eh?" mused the man, smiling at them as he smoked. "Teachers and students are plentiful, of course, but they're usually from the far, far future and on very strictly-controlled excursions into the past. Hands-on history classes, if you will." "That makes history sound kinda fun." Mark said. "Oh, I daresay it is," agreed Chester. "Nothing quite as exciting as going back to the Cretaceous Period and taking a ride on the back of a trained Styracosaurus. Or watching Dromer races." "Isn't that screwing with the timeline?" Becky inquired. "I mean, humans weren't around for another sixty-three million years following the demise of the dinosaurs." "It's all very carefully regulated on remote islands," Chester explained. "It does nothing to mess with the ecosystem and the specimens are trained to interact with humans, for the most part." "Riding one of those big horned dinosaurs would be a kick." Mark mused, grinning. "You've already got a perfectly good horn I like to ride," Becky giggled, squeezing his hand again. "Besides, this is where our host tells us that it won't be possible for us any time soon." "You're a very perceptive young lady," he allowed. "We can't have just anyone mucking up the time stream, you know. It's especially difficult when people who lived before time travel was commonly accepted try to get involved. They inevitably get exposed to technologies they shouldn't be aware of, or events that weren't known during their own time;” "I'll give you a tiny example," he said, leaning forward now, as if he was confiding a secret. "Have you heard of the Tunguska Incident?" "Sure, the Tunguska region in Siberia, 1908," Becky answered, nodding. "A large meteor slammed into the ground, creating a blast equal to sixty megatons and flattening everything for nearly a hundred miles around." "No, that's what you need to think," he corrected, pointing the stem of his pipe toward them. "It was, in fact, an advanced weapon that was stolen from a future date, and before temporal agents could recover it, the thieves blew it up to cover their escape. Granted, there are people in your time who have conspiracy theories about nuclear blast, nearly forty years before the first atomic tests, but they're wrong as well. It wasn't a nuclear device, simply a weapon with an incredibly high conventional yield by your age's standards." "So; why can you tell us this now?" Becky asked. He grinned and spread out his arms in a gesture of farce. "Who would believe you?" "So how did you know that we were time travelers?" Mark asked as they followed their host and guide through the woods. "Well, I heard snippets of your conversation," Chester said as he led the way. "But to be honest, even though your outfits might pass with locals for 'reasonably authentic', you couldn't possibly hide your origins from a fellow time-traveler. Mark claimed to be Spanish, he doesn't look at all Spanish, certainly not from this era. Miss Rebecca is remarkably tall for a woman." "Well there's something I don't hear very often back home!" she giggled. "And you're both in strangely good health, with unblemished skin and full heads of hair," Chester added. "I was relatively certain, and then I heard you discussing your relative inexperience, so I sought to introduce myself." "I'd' have thought that you wouldn't introduce yourself to newbies," Mark stated, helping Becky over a log. "Isn't it safer to keep your chatter to people who know what they're doing?" "It's actually the exact opposite," replied Chester. "The best thing you can do around veteran time travelers you don't need to talk to is to not talk to them. Their timelines are probably very intricate and you don't want yours getting snarled up with them. Newbies, as you call them, probably still have linear experiences that are simple to understand and educating them about what awaits is the simplest way to keep things from getting weird." Getting up to leave the cottage, Mark asked; "So this device the time cops gave me," Mark stated, holding up his chronometer. "It's actually pretty useful then, because it warns me when I'm getting too close to myself or something I've affected." "That was very generous of them," Chester said in a serious tone. "They don't do that for just everyone who shows up suddenly in the time stream. Sometimes they let matters work themselves out, if you know what I mean." Chester’s Forest Farewell.  The meadow they stepped into, had a mature lush forest further back. They reached a small clearing in the forest they'd been tromping through and stopped for a bit, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. Chester looked at them both and slapped his hands on his thighs. "Now then, I've brought you here so that you can witness a casual event that is due to happen just outside the woods. Nothing major, but it will give you a taste of what can await you. I have something to attend to and should be back in a few hours. Just stay out of sight and don't leave the tree line." "You're leaving?" Mark protested. Chester turned to look at him. "It might be that the events you will see unfold work better for me if I am nowhere near them," the man replied. "Fear not, I shall return. Enjoy yourselves." And then he walked into the woods and was gone. Mark looked around and finally sighed. "Helluva way to mentor someone," he muttered as he stood to take in a panoramic context. "Take 'em somewhere and then just fuck off? Nice." "He’s not your mentor, Mark," Becky chided, sitting on a log and smiling at him. "He's a fellow time traveler who is doing you a favor. He's given you plenty of valuable information free of charge already, something I doubt he does frequently." "Well, okay," Mark allowed. "So, we just wait until we see something happen?" "No idea when that'll be, he didn't really tell us, did he?" Becky pointed out. "Yup," Mark sighed. "So, now what?" Becky tilted her head slightly as she looked at him, like there was something wrong with his brain. "Here's an idea. How about you come over here and fuck me?" Mark was so determined to be bent out of shape for having no instructions that he'd overlooked the completely obvious. He laughed and stepped forward, pulling Becky to her feet. They were holding their hands between them and staring into one another's eyes, smiling. "Now this is what time travel is all

The Time Riders: Part 2 When you've got a time machine, practice makes perfect. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Always The Student. Mark was lying on his back, panting while Becky squirmed and writhed on top of him, moaning in pleasure. His hands were on her opulent tits, kneading them just how she loved it. The lovers were covered in sweat as she ground her cunt down onto his cock, taking him deep inside. He matched her sensual rhythm, pushing up while she pressed down, squeezing his shaft with each thrust he made. "Yes, Mark;” she gasped, her hands resting on his chest while she writhed on him shamelessly. It didn't matter that she was his former high school Physics teacher, or even that she still was, in a sense, she was committed to fucking him because she'd promised herself she'd enjoy this, and Becky did her damdest to always follow her own advice. "Yes, baby, right there;” Becky now began gyrating her hips in a circle on top of him, interrupting the rhythm that would certainly had led to both of them cumming and she wanted to prolong this session. She felt Mark regain control of himself, adapting to the new pace, although he continued to molest her tits, pinching and tugging on her nipples. Her flawless skin glistened with her exertions, the wonderful scent of a woman making love permeating the air. "Hmm, good boy," she purred, smiling down at him. "You're learning." "I've got the best teacher I could ask for." Mark replied, grinning back. "Forget all the time travel stuff you're helping me figure out, you're amazing in bed, Becky. I've never cum so hard before, not like when I'm with you." "You're so sweet, darling," she cooed, reveling in the feel of his throbbing cock deep inside her. Ever since that night he'd snuck into her home and failed so miserably at trying to seduce her so she would change his Physics grade, they'd become ardent lovers, with her being nearly as addicted to their sex as he was. "You make me cum really hard too, just so you know. And the gift you brought me back from London was so thoughtful. How would you like to fuck me next?" Mark nodded, pondering her question. He had indeed brought her back a gift, from London in the 1880's. He'd come back with a lovely dress from the period and a bottle of Italian wine. Even though she had never accompanied him on a temporal trip (except that very first one, to prove he had a time machine at all), she seemed to have an innate understanding of how to time travel without screwing things up, which was very easy. He took hold of her hips and slowly rolled her onto her stomach. She purred as she pushed her legs together and then knelt over her thighs. She put her chin on her arms and sighed as he pulled her ass cheeks apart and pushed his cock down into her cunt. Her clamped legs made her feel tighter than ever and he groaned in pleasure as he bottomed out. Keeping himself up on his hands, his back arched so that she was pinned beneath him, he began to piston his hips, fucking his teacher. "Oh, Mark;” she murmured. "It's so good this way. Your cock feels so wonderful inside me." "Uh, God;” he breathed, shuddering as she squeezed her cheeks together, clamping her cunt around him as he thrust. "I never wanna stop fucking you." "I don't want you to," she gasped as he hit her sweet spot. "And because you; oh; have your time machine; we can find a way; to fuck forever;” She squirmed and writhed beneath him while he pushed up and down on her, both of them getting slick with sweat. They groaned and panted together. He leaned down and bit her shoulder Becky keened in pleasure. Trembling, she arched her hips, pushing up against him. She could feel his cock twitching and swelling inside her. "Gonna cum;” he breathed, pushing down and straining. "Uh! Yes, cum in me, Mark!" she wailed. She pressed her face into a pillow as she screamed, feeling her student's cum spurting inside and filling her spasming cunt. Mark shook and groaned loudly, so glad they were in her house and could be as loud as they needed to be. Her slammed his hips down onto her, tingling pleasure blossoming through him. Mark collapsed on top of her, both of them limp and breathing heavily. He reached under Becky and put his hands on her tits, squeezing gently. She hummed and undulated her soft cheeks beneath him, milking his cock for all of his cum, her wet cunt wanting every last drop. They said nothing for several minutes, just lying there in bliss. Becky finally slowly turned over, Mark's cock slipping out of her and they wrapped their arms around each other, kissing deeply. He pushed his still-hard cock back in and moved back and forth gently inside her and she squeezed him in rhythm. Tongues tangled and they hummed contentedly into one another's mouths. "God, I want to find a way to have multiples of you fucking me all at once," she purred, smiling into his eyes and caressing his cheek. "One in my cunt, one in my ass, another in my mouth; hmm, that sounds heavenly." "Yeah, but won't I, like, blow up spontaneously, or collapse the universe if I encounter myself?" he asked somewhat warily. He liked the idea of fucking all Becky's holes, but not if it made everything go boom. She giggled and bopped his nose. "Silly. Why are you asking me? You're the one with access to this time-travel police force. What did you say they were called? TEA?" "Yeah, they said they're called the Temporal Enforcement Agency." Mark confirmed. "I called them Teabaggers and they didn't think that was funny." "Oh, be nice to them, darling," she chided gently. "After all, they're protecting the timeline for crazy kids like you." "Yeah, I guess," he admitted, knowing she was infinitely more sensible than him about these things. She was already so much smarter at this temporal stuff than he was. The only reason his little trip to 1800's London went well was because she'd prepped him and made him think it through. "Getting myself killed is apparently pretty easy." "Boo, and then we couldn't fuck anymore," she said, sounding sad. "And even if you stopped time-travelling tomorrow, I'd still want to fuck you. You've unleashed a demon in me." "I know it," he laughed. "I have to rest a few days after our marathon fuck sessions, only to come back in your next day to keep up with your libido. Not that I'm complaining, mind." She giggled. "Well I do love to fuck," she agreed. "Maybe one day, I'll go with you. I'd love to fuck in a harem bath house or a Parisian brothel." Mark rolled off her and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He could almost see the steam rising off them. As tricky as time travel was, he never would have ended up in bed with his Physics teacher if it hadn't been for his time machine. "That chronometer the agents gave me comes in really handy," he said, his thoughts drifting. "It actually gives me little warnings if I'm getting too close to another temporal event. It means I can't do some things I'd like to do, but things get complicated." She smiled. "You said they called it 'the Limelight Effect' or getting clock hammered, depending on what you were trying to do." He nodded. "They didn't like it when I called it 'clock-blocking'." "You said they had no sense of humor." Becky mused. "But maybe practicing with your Holmes Field Device in minor ways will help." He turned and looked at her. "How so?" "Well," she began, turning on her side to look at him, her hand propping up her head. Her nipples gently kissed the skin of his arm. "How about you take me out for dinner? We'll pick a low-traffic area, somewhere time travelers don't go. You said that your chronometer dials are difficult to physically turn and the Holmes Field device always skews numbers if you're trying to get anywhere that would prove troublesome." He considered what she was saying. "So, take you to some remote village in the past where no one else is ever interested in going. We can try finessing my control of the device." She nodded. "Precisely. I don't know about you, but I speak flawless French, we could visit a little village in France's past and we could get some dinner. You could learn how to deal with the locals, get a feel for what you'll have to do if you keep travelling the time stream." "It's weird how you can say words like 'time stream' so naturally, like it's normal," he sighed. "Still, you're right, careful practice is probably a good thing." "It'll be fun," she said, reaching over and taking hold of his hip to turn him into her. Her tits were now squashed to his chest, his soft cock against her gooey cunt. "How bad a teacher can I be for this? You made it through my physics class without tearing a hole in reality." "And yet I failed," he sighed. "I doubt I can fuck my way out of every bit of trouble I get myself into." She giggled and took his hand, pulling him off the bed and leading him to the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet to pee while she stroked his cock gently, She shivered as she peed, feeling his cum trickling of her, pulling him closer and taking him in her mouth. She hummed as she bobbed back and forth, enjoying their mingled taste. Mark had to admit that he was enjoying how relaxed she was around him now that they were lovers. "So," she said finally, pulling his cock out of her mouth with a quiet pop. "We'll shower and get cleaned up. Then we'll head to the public library to figure out where and what we're doing. Anybody asks, I'll say I'm helping you with your schoolwork." He smiled slyly, feeling a familiar tingle in his cock at the thought of showering with her. This was going to be a good night. "So here's a question," she remarked as she watched Mark get dressed in the outfit they'd bought for the occasion, hidden from prying eyes in her basement, where he kept the Holmes Field Device. They'd visited a costume shop and found clothing that was a good fit for the period they were visiting, that b

The Time Riders: Part 1 The Timeless Art of Shagging. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Give A Monkey A Gun. Mark’s bedroom interrogation. Mark sat in the chair in his bedroom by his computer desk, trying to look chastised, but he was worried that a tiny hint of an evil smirk was crossing his lips. He hung his head in the hopes it would be less noticeable. Standing in the room with him were two stone-faced men in black suits and dark glasses. They stared at him silently for several minutes before glancing at one another. Finally, the shorter one sighed. "Okay, Mark," he said heavily. "Once more, from the top. I want you to give us as detailed an account of what happened as you possibly can. Leave nothing out." "Everything?" Mark asked quietly. "Everything." "Well, as long as you think you have the time." Mark quipped, sitting up straight and leaning back in his chair somewhat casually. The tall man frowned. "Was that a joke?" "Not a very good one, apparently," Mark muttered. "Stick to the facts," the man said firmly. "We hate jokes." "No kidding," Mark mused, settling in to relay the events he had already explained to them twice that evening. "Alright, let me start at the beginning." "Not funny, young man;” growled the shorter agent. "I found the thing in the park. What did you say it's called?" Mark asked. "A Holmes Field Device." "Right," Mark agreed, nodding. "I found the Holmes Field Device in the large lilac bushes over in Grosvenor Park." "Why were you in the bushes?" interrupted the tall man. Mark gave him a wry look. "I was making a drug deal. I was supplying uranium to Libyan terrorists. I was hiding the body of a transvestite hooker I killed. What does it matter? It's not your worry or jurisdiction, if you're telling me the truth, is it?" "Fair enough," said the shorter agent amicably. "Please proceed, Mark." Mark nodded. "It was really small and compact at first and I didn't know what it was. But it kinda gave off a hum and it almost had a glow, I dunno. I pulled it out of the bushes and over to a secluded area where there was still some light from nearby lamps. Anyway, I must've tripped a catch or something on it, because the thing folded out on itself into what looked like a platform and grew these weird-ass frames with displays and dials and buttons and shit. It was like something out of Star Trek." "I can see how it might appear advanced to you," the shorter agent said, nodding. "To my partner and I, it's rather primitive, but that's not your problem. Please proceed." "Once I was sure that no one was around or likely to come through, I began fiddling around with the dials," Mark continued. "At first I was confused, because it didn't seem to do much, except spit up weird numbers on the analogue screens, but then I thought about it and realized they were dates. They were just; off." "Not off," the shorter man said. "Just dates set by a different calendar, if you will. The Holmes Field Device was developed by Ashleigh Holmes, the younger brother of the more famous Sherlock and Mycroft, but he was perhaps even more brilliant. He modified the Gregorian calendar to account for leap years and Daylight Savings, changed the accounting of seconds, minutes, hours and so on to eliminate the need for such inconsistencies. The Holmes Calendar will be adopted eighty three years in your future, but it is so accurate that it won't need to be modified until the year 12,645 AD." "Huh." Mark said in response, not caring much. "Oh, and he also invented the temporal displacement device you found," the man added. "Although it'll be another two hundred and eight years before that comes to light." "Anyways," Mark continued, killing the history lesson. "Once I figured out they were dates and times, I tried setting the time back a few hours. After that, I started pushing some buttons. Things got blurry for just a split second and then the sun was blinding me. I was still alone, but I stepped off and looked around, still in the same spot, but obviously at a different time of day. I looked at the clock on my cellphone and it seemed to have adjusted to say it was six hours earlier, just like I'd set the dials." "Your phone adjusted accordingly. Electronics will do that." "I was really excited to look around but realized I didn't want to be caught and I suddenly thought I should be careful." "What a novel idea," the tall man said dryly. "Go on." "Well, I went back to the Holmes Field thing and set it to take me back to the time I'd come from. And it did. Then I began thinking about what sort of things I might be able to do if I was careful." "And this is where it got interesting, yes?" the shorter agent remarked. Mark explains his connection to Becky. Mark nodded. "Maybe I could change things. Not big things, but little things. It suddenly occurred to me the D that Miss Fischer gave me on my Physics exam earlier in the semester had kept me from getting into the university of choice I'd applied to. So I decided to see if I could fix that somehow;” Mark crept through the bushes under the cover of dark, oddly certain than no one was going to see him. He couldn't explain why, but he felt a confidence that he would not be discovered because he hadn't been there before. It didn't make sense, but maybe that was a good thing. He knew where Miss Fischer lived, he'd seen her pull into the small, stand-alone house in her Rav4 on many occasions. He slipped onto her property through her back yard, instinctively knowing that her rear door would be unlocked. It was already ten o'clock, but there was no school the next day so she was still likely to be up. A stick snapped in the yard one lot ever. His head snapped around to see if he'd been spotted, but he didn't see anything. A dog began barking. Stupid animal scared the shit out of him. He moved quietly across the lawn to the back door, opened it slowly and found himself in a small kitchen. It was dark except for a small night-light and he paused, listening for movement, hearing no one nearby. He stared in bewilderment at the sheer amount of organic cereals and grains that lined the counters around the room, along with fresh fruits and other nutritious snacks. No wonder she always seemed so perky, even if she was shy and retiring. Beyond the kitchen, he could see the living room and small dining room were still lit. He padded across the linoleum floor silently, hearing nothing. He peeked into the dining room and through it into the living room. No one. There was a yoga mat on the floor in front of the long, flat-screen TV. The decor consisted of low tables and beanbag chairs others. Damn, this woman was crunchy. He heard water running upstairs and some off-key singing. He crept up the steps to the second floor, preparing himself for what would no doubt be an awkward situation, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to do this, whether he liked it or not. There was a shower happening and he now recognized Miss Fischer's voice. She seemed to be alone and her vehicle had been standing by itself in the driveway. If she was already showering, she wasn't going out again. Mark approached the bathroom, noticing the door was wide open. He guessed that made sense, since Miss Fischer had told the class more than once that she lived lamentably alone. She took the teasing from her students good-naturedly, but now he could confirm it. She was a bachelorette. She was singing and he could hear the shower water splashing off her body as he hid beside the door. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, calming his nerves before subtly peeking around the door and into the bathroom. There was no tub, just a walk-in shower. His eyes went wide when he realized that her shower stall was composed of fog and steam-proof glass, giving him an almost completely uninterrupted view of the activities within. Except for the droplets of water that trickled down the treated glass panes, he could see his teacher in all her naked glory. Miss Fischer was facing away from him, running her fingers through her long, wet blonde hair, swaying her body back and forth, her amazing ass glistening wetly. He tuned out her rather painful singing of a Beyoncé song and let his gaze travel up and down her womanly form. His heart thundered in his chest, to the place where he was worried she might hear it. Miss Fischer always dressed rather modestly at school and he was shocked to see what a rocking' bod she had. Clearly she hadn't been lying about the yoga and the CrossFit she claimed to do. Her skin was fair, but not pale. Her shapely back tucked into a small waist, which in turn blossomed out into fit hips which were anchored by her amazing ass. Her long legs tapered down to tiny ankles. If he hadn't been so astonished and exhilarated, he would have had a massive hard-on by now. "C'mon, turn around;” he found himself urging her silently. Miss Fischer obliged and Mark thought he might faint. She'd always been pretty, of course, but Mark doubt that anyone at school would have guessed what a sex-pot their Physics teacher was. Where the hell had she been keeping those tits? Did she fucking strap them down? They were large, yet perky. The tiny pink nipples sat atop them proudly, announcing the arrival of their mistress right behind them. Her stomach was flat, but still soft, begging to be kissed. He forced himself to look lower and saw that her cunt was shaved except for the small strip of trimmed hair above. The nether lips were even and not quite plump, but still dismissed any worries of a bony thigh-gap. Her clit hood barely peeked out over the top. "Fucking fuck;” he thought, his mind racing. "Who knew Miss Fischer was so insanely hot?" He watched rapt, utterly forgetting that she might see him if she happened to look his way. The blonde seemed to have no interest in life beyo

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 30 Time For Celebrating! In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.   When I fell to Earth I realized perfection; Earth has everything while Heaven has no Evil. "Ask Belle," I replied. "This fight was for me being allowed on the bed. You still need to pay for breaking into her room." "What?" Leigh squeaked. "Come here, Slut," Belle laughed. She hooked an arm around Leigh's waist from behind and began dragging her back into the house. "Zane?" Leigh called out fearfully. "Coming, coming," I groaned. "I feel like someone dropped a cinderblock on my head, and my ribs." I staggered for the door only to be intercepted by Willa. "You are one freaking weird dude," she whispered. "You have no idea," I responded softly. As she came alongside, I put my arm around her waist, then down inside her panties, and cupped her right ass cheek. I gave it a good squeeze. I figure Willa could pull away or punch me in my sore ribs. Instead, she bumped my hip and put her head on my shoulder. "Have you ever been with another woman?" I asked. "No," she regarded me. "Willing to experiment?" I teased her. She smiled, snaked a hand along my back to my neck and finally grabbed a handful of hair. She pulled me down into a kiss and finished with her own devilish grin. I took that to be a yes. We made our way back to Belle's room, where Belle and I stripped out of our wet clothes. "You don't have to handcuff me," Leigh begged of Belle. "I'll behave." "I know you'll be a good girl, but I don't care. I'll do it because I want to," Belle taunted her. Leigh pouted and looked my way. I shrugged helplessly in response. She stripped, crawled to the middle of the bed, rolled onto her back, and put her wrists together just below her breasts. "I'd rather fight than be a victim," Belle mocked her as the bindings clicked shut. "No, that's some cock, you skank," Leigh wound up her courage. Belle's response was to retrieve the vibrator and turn it on. "Calling me a skank makes you feel tough, eh?" Belle closed in. The vibrator began rubbing against Leigh's thighs as I settled into the bed behind Belle. Willa resumed her position on the far side after she stripped down. Belle gave me a curious look over her shoulder before turning back to Leigh. I snuggled into Belle before nibbling and sucking on her neck and shoulder. As Belle pushed the vibrator between Leigh's labia, I ran my left arm down Belle's back and parted her ass cheeks. I could feel Belle look over her shoulder again, my lips were sucking on her shoulder at that moment, and visually question what I thought I was doing. I could sense a struggle going through her mind by the increased tenseness of her shoulders. She had to be deciding if she would let me distract her or not. A moment later she made up her mind; she bent her leg and pulled her knee toward her chest to make my access to her easier. I scooted farther down so I could move my hand below her ass and begin stroking her cunt, back to front. Belle wiggled the vibrator inside Leigh's cunt as my fingers worked her over. She kept it going until she felt my cock pushing past her ass cheeks. Belle didn't caution me about her anus; she didn't have to. When my cockhead touched her cunt, Belle responded by looking back at me, daring me to stick it in. "Do you want me to stop, Belle?" I gazed into her eyes. Belle's response was to suddenly push down on my cock, pushing it half way in with one thrust. "Fuck," she hissed. I grabbed her hip and finished driving my rod all the way in. I quickly withdrew, then slammed it home again. At the same time, I moved my right hand, pinned underneath me, under Belle's body, until I burrowed to her pelvis. Belle began humming as my hand reached her slender landing strip. I also noticed that her activity with Leigh had lightened up. Her cunt walls strongly massaged my cock's passage and the stimulation was soaking up more and more of Belle's attention. The vibrator cut off. Belle had dropped it so she could start pulling and pinching her breasts as my four fingers began to vigorously rub her clit. For five minutes I kept going at her sideways until she grabbed the sheets so she could shove her body into mine and almost pushed me off the bed. Her climax seized her, her breath came in short gasps and tremors passed from her body to mine. "Damn it," Belle cursed. It took me a moment to figure out what she was pissed about. She began thrusting back against me. "Still hard, huh?" she growled. Why, yes I was, but I wasn't going to tease her about it. I missed the visual exchange between Willa and Belle but the end result was Belle giving in, letting Leigh off the hook. "I'm getting on top, Zane," Belle demanded. What proceeded was a bit of bedroom acrobatics but I kept my cock inside as I moved towards the bed's center while Belle swung up to a reverse cowgirl position. I pushed up, palms on the bed behind me, and watched her ass begin to bounce on my lap. At first, Belle rested her hands on my shins and used that to balance her rocking and thrusting of the hips. "Don't, Zane," Belle panted as I pressed my chest against her back. When I wrapped my arms around her, she made one last protest. "Oh, damn you." I hugged Belle tight, my left arm around her stomach and the right around her chest. She slowed down for a few seconds before turning her upper body so that we could kiss. Our tongues flickered against each other, then slowly danced back and forth between our mouths. "I really should bite you right now," Belle sighed. "What the hell for?" I muttered. "I'm going to have to look across the room now and find a reason for not jumping your bones, you idiot," she breathed in short bursts. "Someone likes being 'Zaned'," Leigh teased. Willa slapped her somewhere; I couldn't see where. "Shut up unless you want to be tied up all night," Willa whispered. I was busy letting my hands migrate over Belle's tight body now that I had 'permission' to sex her up. I let Belle lean into me. Her hands cupped her breasts while my hands went from her shoulders to the top of the tits but avoided the nipples. I skated around her upper chest, linking my hands over her pulsing abdomen then lightly traveling down to her thighs. "You are not in a hurry," Belle observed breathlessly. "It is our first time," I reminded her. "Oh," was all she had to say. Her body rubbing against me was her real reply. It was with gradual ease that we upped our tempo until Belle finally 'gave it up' again. This time I came with her, and I completely spaced about a condom, again. Belle writhed her body against mine for almost a minute as we regained our composure and our breaths. "You came in me, didn't you?" Belle said seriously. "Yeah, I screwed up. I'm sorry," I groaned. "What are we going to name our kid?" Belle showed a tiny bit of mirth. "I'm partial to Beausephus if it is a boy," I told her as I kissed her neck, "and Andromeda if it is a girl." "Our kid is going to kick ass," Belle laughed. "Aren't you on the pill?" Leigh wondered. "Listen, you stupid Cunt," Belle twisted on my semi-rigid cock so she could lock eyes with Leigh, "do I look like I can afford Healthcare?" "Answer me, Bitch," Belle began wiggling off my lap and out of my arms. "Let it go," I begged Belle. "Don't think that just because you have my cock in my cunt, that makes me your bitch," Belle growled to me. "As your friend, I'm asking you to drop, 'my cock'?" I hesitated. "Just because MY cock is in your cunt doesn't make it your cock," I teased. "Crap, slip of the tongue," Belle mumbled. "It's okay," both Leigh and I said. "Several of our girls feel that way," Leigh added. "We feel possessive about that cock." "What she said," I finished. "That's why when it is not attached, I keep it in a locked box." Belle snorted and Willa and Leigh laughed. "You went with the detachable cock?" Belle stared at me. "That's so sad." "Hey, now," I blushed. "I have a horny naked biker babe sitting in my lap, with my cock in her cunt. I'm a little shaken up right now." "You can be real trying at times," Belle leaned into me compassionately. "What? You said you wanted me to try your ass?" I joked. "Okay." Belle's vaginal muscles constricted around my cock, exciting me to hardness again. "You rip up my ass and I'm going to rip off your balls," Belle grinned shark-like. "Your? No, I meant Willa's ass," I verbally back-pedaled. "Look, she's sitting there, ass up looking all inviting, lush, and full-formed." "You wouldn't dare," Willa smirked at me. By her own accounts, Willa loved anal sex, but apparently it wasn't something she normally shared. Belle's instincts were leading her past the deception. "Are you freaky, Willa?" Belle mocked her friend. "Hey," Leigh piped up. "Barbie Lynn likes it and she's no freak." I rolled onto my side, trying to let Belle slide off my shaft. "Am I going somewhere?" Belle turned and joked with me. I shrugged, put my left hand on her shoulder and pumped into her hard several times. "Okay, okay," Belle panted. "Go bang Willa. My cunt is still tingling from the last orgasm, Stud." Belle twisted onto her stomach which allowed my cock to pop free. Belle moaned sensually and lay there for a minute with her eyes closed. Dangerously, Leigh crawled over Belle's still form, retrieved something from Belle's nightstand, and handed it to me, lube. Leigh must have seen Belle pull it out and lube up the vibrator before shoving it in. Belle wasn't a total sadist. I slipped beside Willa who kept drinking me in with her eyes. "Where do you think you are going with that?" she said. Willa remained on her stomach, her ass proudly pointing up and proffered. "Would you like to try anal?" I winked. "I'm sure if you try it, you'll like it." "This won't make me your Old Lady," Willa teased back. "I'll try it. Let's see what you've got." "I only want to make you happy

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 29 Barbie Lynn s Genetics In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.   Nymphomania, while enticing to consider, is still utter madness when experienced. "Why Mr. Zane, my Barbie Lynn has told us so many wonderful things about you," she sounded so sugary that the honeyed words flowed off her tongue in a manner that was barely coherent. Also, her eyes flickered to the shower where I'd nailed Barbie Lynn repeatedly for forty minutes not all that long ago. Next to me Thomas grunted something that sounded like 'hello'. "I'm sure she's exaggerated to my betterment," I pulled that banter out of my tush, my brain was suffering catastrophic blood loss. "I can't wait to live in this dorm next year," Laramie came across with a nearly a molasses like drawl as well. "Zane, will you let me use this room next year?" "Dude! This is your room?" Jefferson perked up. "Mom, I have to come here next year!" "Um, yes Laramie, I'm going to hold this room open to every girl, and perhaps guy, in the dorm. I don't need much space," I said, "so keep out of the way of housekeeping and we are good. Also, you are immune from Handmaiden's Duty while here." "Oh, I was thinking about the game stations, satellite dishes and cable hook-ups," Jefferson added. Jefferson Davis, that name rang a bell. "Come on now Honey, a man can't go to a women's," Savannah let that sentence die unfinished. For me, it was keep the lone male status quo; or to get a good night's sleep'. "Mrs. Masters, I offer a thin hope for your son; if your daughter could line up some upstanding seniors and juniors, he might slip in under the Zane Exception to the enrollment policy," I told her. "You'd do that for Jeff?" Savannah took off her sunglasses and bit one of its arms. "Ma'am, I'd wrestle an alligator blindfolded for your daughter. I would certainly put in a good word for her brother," I smiled. I had no idea how tough alligators could be but I knew about crocodiles and those were some mean mothers in their own right. Still, faced with alligator wrestling or no anal-sex with Barbie Lynn, I was getting a belt, handbag and new shoes, damn it. The odds of getting Jeff in were long, Victoria barely suffered Heaven being around, and it would take an act of the Southern Baptist Convention to bring in a male to replace me when I was gone. "It would give your Father another option for Jefferson if you could do this Barbie Lynn," Savannah politely replied. "That would be great," the kid rejoiced. Yes, he was a fully functioning teenage male. "Zane can move mountains when he sets his mind to it," Barbie Lynn winked at me. Thomas saw it but was caught off-guard. "Let me show you my bedroom," Barbie offered her kin. They turned and the women sashayed away while Jeff had an almost run-in with Raven and 'company'. Each woman shot a look over their shoulder and smiled at me at some point along their journey which boded trouble. "I apologize, Zane," Thomas mumbled. "I thought, deep down, you were weak for submitting to your lusts. Now, I don't, I don't think that anymore." "Don't sweat it," I smiled. "It is only another day for me ending in y." "And don't you be forgetting about me, and how tough it has been resisting Zane," Vivian warned the man she was hoping to marry. "A wife should obey her husband," he started, "and a husband should know when to shut up." Lunch and what comes after I dropped Ms. Reveal's lunch off with just enough sassiness to make her smile and believe that our bad episode was behind us. She sent me to the Vice Chancellor's office a minute later, and while Doctor Victoria Scarlett was conversing over the phone, I felt comfortable to set her meal up in front of her and mine across her desk. Victoria only had this canned ice tea in her mini-frig so I swiped two and set one before her and opened mine. I wasn't exactly sure what it was, it was pretending to be Southern Ice Tea and I pretended to like it. The best thing I could say about it was it was cold. This was our fourth "working" lunch where she would insidiously fill my head with her philosophy and I'd causally remind her that women ran this government, not me; I was a figurehead. "What are you doing for New Year's Eve?" she inquired as she daintily cleaned off some crouton crumbs on her cheek. Her look was very intense. I wasn't getting 'quite' sexual signs from her but something, somehow this was personal. That could only mean one thing. "I'm spending it with Ms. Rio Talen but no set location has been chosen," I replied. "Oh," she paused then, "There is a Science Fiction convention in Seattle that runs from December 29th to through the 1st. My friends and I are attending and Hical asked about you." "Deal but we have to fit Rio in," I agreed. "I can send some Universe, TV and movie series and well as costuming information for her to look over," Victoria agreed tentatively. "No need, she's a Klingon, a small craft captain whose Father betrayed the Empire and whose survival is a stain on her honor," I told her. "With that barely constrained fury, she's a natural. You teach her how to use that bat-a-rang and," "Batleth," Victoria interjected. "Wicked-curved-bladey thing," I continued, "and you'll see. Oh, I'll need an Orion Slave Girl outfit and some green body paint for Mercy and all of her stuff by October 30th, cost is not an object." "I'll call my outfitter when you leave and I must say you are taking this rather well," Doctor Scarlet noted. "Why? I had a blast in your office that time," I admitted. "As long as I'm not crawling in, screaming fur-balls, I'm okay. I'll be a human Starfleet Doctor Xeno-biologist who has done surgery on multiple species. A "Doctors Without Borders" kind of guy. I'll get Cordelia to build me an actual tricorder, trust me." We ate, she asked for my sizes, I gave her Rio's and Mercy's sizes; at the Con we were all 'Next Gen' except Mercy who would be Old School for Halloween. She offered me a chance to be a Borg but since they all looked to be in desperate need of a sun tan, I declined. All in all, it barely took twenty minutes. "You did a very good job as Mediator this morning," the Vice Chancellor added as I made to leave. "It is not so rough," I grinned. "WWKSD?" "Wha, oh," she smiled warmly. "What would King Solomon do, clever." "Hell, the Bible has a whole book called Judges. This shit ain't so hard," I laughed as I breezed out the door. Ms. Reveal was waiting, as was Heaven. Heaven had to exert some will to not kiss me on the spot. Christina had lectured us on P D A, public displays of affection, during Homecoming. The more people who knew about us, the more the outcry and the stronger Chancellor's radical decision to keep Heaven on as part as the student body, would be challenged. As it was, our hands would casually brush one another until we got inside my dorm where I chased Heaven up the stairs, pinching her ass every time I caught up. After entering my code, I gauged Heaven's mood deciding we needed some quiet time; there would be too much traffic over most of the floor, and Heaven being too vocal, to get away with sex; and cuddling would be fine anyway. I caught sight of Rio with one of my Marksmanship team mates, Genesis. "Hey Zane," Genesis stood up. She was a weird one, going from borderline contempt to grudging respect over the last two weeks. If I didn't know the impossibilities, I'd think she had a boyfriend. "Hope wants everyone at the Amory for an equipment check at seven. We leave at 8:15." Heaven held my hand tightly. "Boudoir occopodo," Rio snickered as Genesis made her exit. Heaven's grip nearly crushed my hand, ouch. "Babe," I whispered to Heaven, "let me check this out." I disentangled myself and went for the wall of screens that separated my bedroom area from the rest of the floor. "Get some popcorn and get ready to sit a spell," Rio joked to Heaven who grumbled. I went around to see who, or whom, were using my room. Inside was not what I expected. Savannah Belafonte Masters had taken off her top (which was peach) and was rummaging with growing frustration through Barbie Lynn's bra drawer. I saw some grape juice splashed on her beige skirt. She saw me, pulled up her shirt to cover her bra-covered assets while looking a bit fearful and upset. "What are you doing in here?" she asked softly. "It is my bedroom," I replied. "What are you doing in my bedroom?" "But, but Barbie Lynn's stuff is in here," she gasped. "That would because it is her room too, we sleep together," I answered. That slowed her up for a second. "Can I help you with something?" "I, I, I spilled juice on my shirt," she began. "And your skirt," I pointed out." "Oh no," she choked back a sob. "What am I going to do? I'm a mess and none of Barbie Lynn's bras, shirts, or skirts are going to fit me." I mused over that for a second. "I've stashed some bra extensions around here somewhere and that should allow for the difference is sizes between you and Barbie," I said. "Now give me your skirt and I'll find a replacement." She hesitated so I added. "I'm not going to molest one of my best friends' mom, Savannah. Give me your skirt and I'll take care of everything." This time she did it, though I had to turn my back. I padded back out to Rio and Heaven who had just returned with the popcorn. "Rio, Heaven, I need you to break into Chancellor Bazz' residence and steal a skirt like this," I offered up Savannah's. "Hell yeah," Rio exulted. "Time for a little Breaking  Entry." "Oh, what the fuck," Heaven shrugged. "Count me in." She gave me a quick kiss and the two miscreants headed out on their nefarious mission. I went back to the bedroom and stumbled into Savannah, now with her bra off, eyeing two of Barbie Lynn's double barreled slingshots. Our eyes locked. "Right," I spun away. "Bra extensions." "Zane, do you think I'm attractive?" Barbie Lynn's Mom asked. When women s

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 28 Sandwiches? In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             Some masks hide who we are. Others show who we want to be                I could bowl Mercy over with a feather. Rio and I are doing the same social mechanics and come to the same conclusion. There are three reasons to marry a gay guy; 1.      money, 2.      social pressure and 3.      camouflage. Felicity doesn't need the money, so we simply assumed it to be number two. We totally missed the other reason; Felicity is a lesbian. Rio takes it in her slow and easy style. She walks up and puts Felicity in a gentle Mercy, Felicity, Rio sandwich. "I am going to have so much fun breaking you in," Rio whispers affectionately to Felicity. "When you get good at it, I'll let you play with Mercy, she likes to be played with but you have to be firm. Do you like it firm and hard, my most favorite and annoying little Ass-Tramp?" Subtle like a freaking tsunami. Mercy recovers from her shock to nod her head vigorously. "What about Barbie Lynn?" Felicity inquires with velvet hunger. "She's Zane's," Rio informs her. Felicity looks a bit disappointed. "Zane shares her though, so don't expect her to fall in love with you," then leans in and up, "but you'll find out her lips, titties and ass are to die for. Now let's go back to my room and let me show you some things," Rio grins, looks over her shoulder and gives me a wink. Who's room? Barbie Lynn pats my ass then skips after the trio. "We are going to lube up Mercy and try out some of the basics," Rio instructs Felicity. "We'll see what intrigues you then I'll send you home with some toys to practice with and, well, loosen you up a bit. Mercy didn't become fantastic overnight. I had to work on her a lot. See, and the conversation is drowned out by the rest of the students on the floor. No one has batted an eye about Mercy, Rio, and/or Felicity either. Maybe I really am the downfall of the Judeo-Christian tradition after all. Rio is taking responsibility for Mercy. Mercy just stepped out to the World as her true self, a tiny, tiny step anyway. Barbie Lynn is playing Dorm Mother in spades and in a manner way beyond the Handbook's job description. Valarie, Vivian and Iona have gathered together then when Vivian finger-beckons me over. I saunter over to see what's going to go wrong with my life next, and if they have any Tribbles hiding there I'm going to burn the little bastards in the sink. That's not what brings me over. "All the Advocate-candidates have been approached and agreed to serve," Vivian seems amused to inform me. "They want what little ceremony exists to be performed and the Advocates sworn in at 9pm." "Has someone worked on an Oath of Office," I groan. 'To one's self be true', what else can I say? "It seems some of the prelaw students actually had a little contest and they've put something together," Vivian smiles warmly. "It has been downloaded to your phone, it is under Advocate Oath of Office." "Why are you being such a smart ass?" I look her over. "Hasn't my day been bad enough?" "Zane, have you seen your phone log for the past twelve hours?" Vivian asks me. I have been ignoring my phone, in fact. I check it now and I bless those hard working Taiwanese and the huge memory capacity they've put in my global lifeline; otherwise my phone would have melted down hours ago. Fuck, I have phone calls from people I don't even know, who live in, France, Germany, Brazil and Belarus? I rack my mind to remember where Belarus is, blonde-haired, blue eyed Slavic ladies, now I know! The viewing of Star Trek humiliations seem to be universal but at least they don't know my name or face. There is some serious Time Lord Mafia paddling over this one. They've used my damn private phone number. "When do you think you'll talk to Rio," Iona asks cautiously. "I'll take care of that right now, while she's feeling happy and playful," I comfort Iona. "Besides, it could be worse; everyone is looking for a pudgy Sasquatch, not me." The three ladies all stare at me. "Oh fuck," I groan. "Well," Vivian looks away (oh hell), "the footage sort of shows you taking a shower plus your name and phone number." "But your transformation into is a fur-ball is truly precious," Valarie comforts/mocks me. "All my gal-pals out West think you are so cute; Phoenix, one of my Mom's jailbird friends, even used the 'too cute' emoticon and I didn't even think she knew what emoticons were. She sent it to all her buds still in lock-up too." "Great, I'm popular in a women's correctional facility, at least it is in another state," I sigh upward. I pray to God that never becomes relevant. "Hell, I have a housewife in Belarus she wants me as a house pet." "What does she look like?" Valarie seems curious. "How would I know?" I am somewhat offended. Valarie takes my phone but I don't resist too much. She scrolls a bit then hits the number. "Don't call her," I bark. Valarie laughs then hands me my phone back. She shows me the 'entirety' of the girl's message. Nice bikini, or what there is of it and I can't imagine it being too practical that far north. She is divorced, with a one year old son, 22 years old and fresh out of college with a job as a PR specialist for a real estate development firm. She also speaks seven freaking languages, I feel like such an underachiever right now, or male underwear model. Maybe I'll make her a pen pal ~ she's a half a world away. I should be safe. Right now I can't play it safe though; I have to go play with Rio and I know that violates my health insurance under the 'feeding dangerous animals' clause. "Zane," Iona offers to take my phone so I give it to her (why should I distrust her right?). Her delicate little fingers fly across it then she hands it back. "You now have a fifteen minute warning," she is trying to be helpful. "Paige seems to have vanished," I request, "so when you see her, tell her to give us some peace please." The three of the saner women I know give me a nod. I round the final screen and there is my sleeping platform. Barbie Lynn and Felicity are examining a stunning large collection of sexual aids (that my credit card must have paid for), which Rio is sedately explaining to them, sort of what you would expect from a Mary Kay or Avon saleswomen. Mercy is bent over the bed, pushing up her ass by standing on her toes, skirt and panties gone and surreptitiously undoing her blouse buttons when she thinks Rio isn't looking. Mercy even flashes a precious grin my way when she sees me. It is the 'Weeee! I'm about to get fucked' look. While amiably chatting away, Rio puts her hand over one of Felicity's hands and leads it over to Mercy's flank. Felicity puts up a token resistance. "Do that again and it will cost you," Rio purrs. Felicity stares at Rio's feral nature, seeing her truly for the first time then obeys. "Good girl," Rio coos in Felicity's ear. That reminds me what I've forgotten to do today, the air filters. I look around the various wardrobes for some sort of precision tool like a baseball bat, crowbar, sledgehammer, fire axe or chainsaw, I have a cricket bat? What the hell am I doing with a cricket bat? Isn't that the National sport of India; is it even played on this continent? It may be one of a kind; I'll spare it. "Zane!" Rio snaps. Apparently she's been calling my name for a second or two. "Yeah Bro, what do you need?" I answer. I'm not being attacked by someone so she must need something from me. "Felicity is self-conscious about being naked in front of us girls," Rio grins. "Could you pick out a swimsuit for her that is conservative and demur?" In Rio-speak that means three small circle Band-Aids and some dental floss. "What color would you like Felicity?" I ask. She says white; I groan because when you sweat/drip on white it becomes translucent. Maybe she's teasing me. I pick out a Rio-approved set (she has a whole drawer labeled 'Slut Wear' after all), hides it from her until I walk around and hand the 'suit' to Rio. Top lesson: 1.      Rio is in charge. Rio approved approves the look suit then hands it to Felicity. "You expect me to wear this?" Felicity gasps. "That's going to cost you Sweet-cheeks," Rio grins wickedly. "I can't wear this," Felicity stammers. Rio puts a finger to her lips to stop Felicity from saying anything else. "I apologize, Ms. Tolliver," Rio nods, "I think you are in the wrong place. Thank you for the books; good-bye now." Felicity is looking back and forth between Rio, Barbie Lynn, Mercy and me. Barbie Lynn gives Felicity a friendly shrug; I mirror that gesture while Rio takes up a medium lavender dildo, a bottle of lube and pours an expertly delivered thin stream on the tool and Mercy's asshole as if they are one. She's pointedly ignoring Felicity. Felicity is a 'Prom Queen' type and now some jumped-up freshman has dismissed her like she is nothing; I doubt that has ever happened before. On the other hand, Rio is brazenly open with her sexuality and sexual desires; a freedom Felicity has always felt denied her. Felicity almost makes a crucial mistake but I catch her starting to form the words 'I'm sorry' to me but I redirect her with a tilt of my head. "I apologize," Felicity whispers. "Zane, could you take over for me please," Rio says. I step around to her far side and start working my dildo slowly into Mercy's rectum. She wiggles her ass playfully to the intrusion. Rio steps up to Felicity, rises up on her tiptoes and grips Felicity's head firmly but gently. Rio tries to kiss Felicity but I can tell the taller blonde's jaws clench and her body stiffens. "One last chance," Rio insists. She lets the implications sink in then kisses her again. It is a close thing but Felicity finally breaks down and let's Rio's tongue master her tongue, mouth and lips. Felicity moan eradicates a decade of repression and denial and it is with some reluctan

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 27 Appreciation? In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             Children must face the scrutiny of their parents     The Dining Hall was almost a relief. That relief died the moment I saw the banner over the front of the serving area in the Hall. 'Zane Appreciation Day'. Since every word was spelled correctly, it wasn't some stunt of Rio's, but beyond that, the list of suspects was too large to consider. This could be a genuine outpouring of acceptance and sympathy for what I had endured here. If you believe that, I have to ask you: 'Do you want your leprechaun pissing Guinness or Irish Malt?'   Most likely, this was going to be some sort of humiliation, and I think I knew the flavor, and I definitely knew how to find out. See, in every seat of the Dining Hall was a big, bowling ball sized white box with a name and secured with a gold and green ribbon, so no cheating; no peeking. That last bit didn't deter me, though. I snuck up on the box marked for Holiday Carpenter.   "Zane, does that have your name on it?" Virginia Goodswell asked me, my English teacher and Spiritual Advisor. Hell, if it had been Mrs. Marlowe, I would have opened it anyway, but Virginia was my buddy so her next question didn't mean to stab a stake of regret through my heart. "Where is Vivian?"   "I left my room before she was done." I looked to the ground while I kicked some imaginary dust off the slate floor.   "Why don't you see if she's been calling you?" she suggested. "She's probably worried." Worried, or homicidal because, ya know, I had sort of run off without my phone, wallet, watch, book bag, or anything else a 21st century student might need.   "I ran away like a big, fat chicken," I confessed. "Anything not glued to my body I left behind."   "I'll give her a call." She pulled out her phone and hit speed dial #2. I crap since her sick mother is probably #1. I am such a big problem for her, she has my guardian on speed dial! "That is Holiday Carpenter's box, Zane, not yours. Besides, there are strict instructions to not open the boxes until instructed."   The panicky response I overheard from Virginia's conversation with Vivian hardly helped my mood. She wanted to know if Virginia knew where I was, she did; that I was okay, I was; and finally, what upset me, because the other girls weren't talking but apparently Mercy had started slapping Barbie Lynn around until Rio and Val pulled her off. Now, that made less than no sense. Wasn't that supposed to work the other way around?   Virginia did a double check and sure enough, Mercy had slammed Barbie Lynn into an open wardrobe on my behalf, and Rio and Val had pulled her back. WTF! I am sure that Rio was right beside me on that one. Vivian triple checked that I was physically and mentally okay and she sounded so disappointed, in herself, as she did so. She was bringing my stuff; yes, I am an earthworm. Virginia promised for me that I would remain here until she arrived.   Some stupid gesture like a loud public apology, done on bended knee, was blatantly unfair to Vivian, who only meant the best for me. I made a quick apology, not trying to meet her eyes as I said the words and took my stuff. All of 'my' girls seemed equally subdued. A minute after we had garnered our victuals, Vivian put a hand on my elbow.   "Don't be so hard on yourself, Zane," Vivian smiled warmly at me. "You take a lot of stress and pressure on yourself. I understand that from time to time you need to take in a tiny bit of private space for yourself. Clearly, you can't schedule any such time because nothing around you stays a secret for very long and no one respects your privacy or even asks what you need."   "Vivian," I was puzzled, "you deserve to be righteously pissed with me. You are my Guardian and I promised to stay by you or at least tell you where I was."   "Zane, we let you down," Vivian assured me. "It is your dorm room and we are your guests, and we have been rather poor guests at that."   "How about we call a truce?" I offer.   "I can live with that," Vivian smiled.   "Cut the Kumbaya-time, kids," Rio snorted derisively. "Zane, what the fuck happened with Mercy?" Rio playfully punched Mercy's arm to emphasize her uncertainty.   "Rio, Bro, drop it," I asked sincerely. "Act like it didn't happen." Rio studied me a second, then got this wickedly evil grin.   "What the hell are you talking about, Glenda?" she hefted the box up then shook it. "It seems my damn box is glued shut. Are we celebrating one thousand cunts licked by you, or what?"   Because Rio rarely expounded at a level below full volume, next thing we hear is Mrs. Marlow snapping, "Ms. Talon, watch your language; there are good Christian women being forced to sit within the sound of your voice!"   "Gotcha, Ms. Mouthful," Rio snapped off with a snap and a finger raised up like a pistol in the air.   "What did you say?" Marlowe closed the distance.   "She was repeating what I pointed out," I turned and smiled. "I said that you really had it going together this morning; that you were more than a mouthful. That's a hip/trending term to describe someone who is expressing themselves through clothing and make-up."   "You are lying, Mr. Braxton," she snarled.   "You are probably right, as I do so to you on general principle, but good luck proving it in student court," I grinned right back. We locked wills and she blinked first.   "Ms. Phillips," Marlowe turned on Vivian, "what are you going to do about this?"   "Zane and Rio, would you please apologize for being rude and insensitive to an educator who only wishes the best for the student body?" Vivian requested.   "I so apologize," I bowed my head.   "I so apologize as well," Rio tacked on. Only after Marlowe had gone to spread love and sunshine somewhere else did Rio lean across me and whisper to Vivian.   "You rock!" Rio giggled gleefully. After all, Rio and I had not apologized to Mrs. Marlowe because neither one of us believed for a minute that she was 'an educator who only wishes the best for the student body'. To that nameless entity, we owed a debt, and to Mrs. Marlow we owed a generous 'fuck you,' and Vivian had made it all possible.   "Why, thank you, Rio," Vivian nodded her acceptance of Rio's praise. "Jesus is the Peacemaker and we all should attempt to emulate his teachings."   "So, I still don't get to lick you senseless?" Rio snickered.   "No, no, you don't," Vivian smiled, even though she didn't look at either of us. Vivian's going to rock as a mom.   The next half hour passed quietly. Everyone was curious about the boxes but no one was too worried until a rumor suddenly appeared. When it was suggested that they might have to put on bikinis, the fear set in. I blamed, I don't know but I wish I had thought of it. I was still kicking myself for the missed opportunity when my alien with the right face black and left face white shows up with the right face white and left face black, Mhain and Millicent.   "Death Match and you get to referee," Rio teased me. "I'm so jealous; 500 bucks on the one with the soul." Mhain glared hate at us while Millicent looked more than amused.   "Zane, come with us," Mhain gloated. I figured that somehow my ordeal was coming to an end so I'd play along. I rose and they steered me to the largest exit, flanking me.   Christina and Company grabbed their boxes and jumped up quickly to follow me, though they looked as confused as I was, confirming none of them were the architect of my discomfort. No sooner had we stepped into the cool, sunlit lawn than everyone's phone rang, except mine. I was loving this, right up there with having sandpaper buffing my sunburned abs.   "Open the box and follow the instructions," Christina informed me. "Is anyone going to do this?" My phone vibrated once, then my whole body tingled before I could respond to the call.   "I am," Mhain gloated. "I was promised something." She knelt and opened her box with enthusiasm; the others did likewise but at a more sedate pace.   What came out of each box was almost identical, different only in the anatomical part of the body indicated by the instructions. The objects were all grapefruit-sized fur-balls that made darling little squeaks, squeals and murmurs, amongst other sympathetic noises, all in tiny little voices. They were to be placed on my body, but I didn't know how that would work.   "Are we going to do this?" Chastity began to say.   "It isn't sticky," Hope was also saying when Mhain's flew out of her hand and hit the side of my left knee. She reached out carefully to retrieve hers while the other girls circled in. The little darlings were proving to be resilient little bastards. Several more leapt at me from the hands of their owners.   All this time the furry grapefruit were giving little 'wee!' noises when they shot at me and screeched like demons when they were removed, which was painful when they were on my flesh. I knew who was responsible and she was going to pay, but not right now. I saw my closest allies pulling back.   "TLM, Christina," I sighed in resignation. "Let's get this over with." I was being totally self-sacrificial; girls were starting to pile-up on us coming out of the Dining Hall. I didn't want a riot. Mhain had technically tagged me first but not in the designated spot, so I had Christina go first, she put one over my heart, not that I thought Cordelia was stupid, but now she was just piling it on.   Mhain went next and she was sizzling and excited, she put it on my lips, shutting me up. At least the girls were polite and organized enough to come at me patiently. A few didn't get the 'memo' and their little rug rats slipped out of their owner's grasp and got to play gleeful kamikaze as they plowed into me.   It didn't hurt but I had this secret fear that the tiny terrors would sprout fangs and tea