Karen was quite typical of my dalliances. I, almost literally, bumped into her outside of the Apple store, she was carrying the usual small white bag characteristic of a purchase. “Hey, good to see you.” was all I said before I walked on, first, don’t let on you don’t know them. I paused, turned back to her, “I’m just getting dinner, Italian, would you like to join us? Bob and Carol said they’d be there, but you know how flaky they are.” Bob and Carol of course were fiction, but would put her more at ease.

She looked somewhat confused, and as though she was concentrating, trying to recollect me. “Err, Ok?” It sounded like a question, but was good enough for me, I offered her my arm. We walked the two blocks around the corner to the restaurant, chatting inconsequentially. In the restaurant I asked the hostess for a table for four and she seated us.

I glanced over the wine list, “This one’s good, shall we get a bottle?” I pointed to a quality Tuscan red, it was not a coincidence that the price was $75. She assented and I ordered the bottle. We spent a very pleasant time over dinner, only the one bottle of wine, I didn’t need a drunk on my hands. I made sure to get close and hold her hand, she reciprocated, her eyes were wide and glistening, she was playing with her hair. All good signs.

After dessert, I asked, “We could get coffee here, or I could fix you some at my flat, it’s only a few blocks.” A residence in this part of town would indicate substantial means, never a bad thing when dealing with the fairer sex.

“Lets go to your place.” A very promising answer. I paid the bill and we left the restaurant, I offered her my arm as we walked the half mile to my residence. We took the lift to my floor.

As the lift slowly ascended, I took her into my arms. I wrapped my arms around her, immobilizing her, and leaned against her pressing her against the wall. Then I kissed her hard. She flushed, but didn’t protest. A demonstration of your physical prowess is always good for arousing the female. The lift bell rang and the doors opened, I again offered her my arm and we walked down the hall to my front door.

Once inside the flat, I asked, “Would you like that coffee now, or something else?”

“Something else sounds good right now.”

I took my cue from this and again wrapped my arms around her, and pushed her against the wall. I kissed her, while I fondled her bum. I broke the kiss and she was breathing heavily, flushed, obviously aroused. I lead her over to the couch, leaned her over the arm, then I raised her skirt and pulled down her drawers. I freed myself from my trousers and rammed my manhood into its new home. “Oof!” was Karen’s only comment, muffled by the couch cushions. I continued to ram myself home, I reached under her to find her little button. She was engorged as I played with her, she continued to make incoherent noises, then climaxed with “st-stop. Stop.” I ceased my motions, and with a final grunt she went limp, her legs buckling under her.

I took a seat on the couch, with my manhood very prominent, I petted her waiting for her to regain her sensibilities. She rolled over to assume a more comfortable position on the couch next to me, looking up at me. He gaze was quite adoring. “Oh, wow! That was amazing.”

“We haven’t finished yet.” I stated, as I made to undo her clothes, with an eye to removing it all. She did not protest, and aided me in removing them. I left her in hose and shoes. “Now it’s your turn.” I motioned to my prominent manhood. She made to kiss him, I motioned her no, she should be kneeling on the floor. She took up her position at my feet and started suckling on me.

One of many marvelous things about this time and place is the oral sodomy. Instead of sending you to the gallows, sodomy was now commonplace, celebrated even. In my time, suggesting a lady of more than dubious repute perform this act would be met with scorn if not plain incomprehension. In my new time, the ladies expected to perform the service for you, with ne’er a scant glance. Of course, a lady would expect reciprocation, something I was more than happy to oblige with.

I gloried in her ministrations for some time, but I thought my seed could be better broadcast so I placed my hand on her head. “Come! To the bedchamber with you!” I rose and slipped out of her mouth, I offered her my hand and lead her down the hall to the bedroom. I laid her down on the bed.

I undressed and carefully arranged my spent clothing as it should be, then took up my position to minister to her flower. I knew she was already wet, she offered little resistance to my invasion earlier, but the tide seemed to be flowing even stronger as I laboured. I was met with appreciative grunts and sighs, eventually leading to thrashing about.

This again was my cue, I abandoned my post between her legs and jumped on top of her, again ramming my manhood into her sheath. With all the fervor of a rabbit in spring, I thrust home. Her sighs and grunts gave way to keening and wailing, she one was a noisy one. At the climax of her passion, I also let go a broadside. Lest you think I was not also caught up in the passion, I was. My grunts were as incoherent as hers, just of a considerably smaller order.

We both collapsed onto our backs, the petit mort of passion overcoming us. I was still unable to form a coherent thought when Karen managed to summon the energy to roll over and hug me. “Thank you, you were wonderful.” She looked thoughtful for some time, then asked. “How is it we know each other? I’ve been wracking my brain trying to work out where I know you from, obviously, we’ve never had sex before, I’d remember it being this good.”

“Why do you think we know each other? We just met outside the Apple store.” Play the innocent.

She looked puzzled. “You definitely seemed to know me.”

“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. By the way, I’m Stephen, I’m pleased to make you acquaintance.” I proffered my hand.

She blushed, and accepted the hand. “Karen.”

I thought this was an appropriate moment to document the episode. I reached for the camera I kept by my bedside. This dark chamber was much improved over those I was previously familiar with, it was so much smaller and it managed to fix the image in time. The image was fully coloured and gloriously detailed, I transferred them to my PowerBook and forever more I would have a record as an aid to my memory. “Smile and look well fucked!” A variation on this world’s admonition, and added “Just a little keepsake.”

She did smile, and indeed did look well fucked, though I don’t think I can credit her solely for that. Rejoining her on the bed, we snuggled. She demurred, I think she blushed a little further. She asked, “Well, Stephen,…” she seemed to be savouring the novelty of my name, “Could we do that again?”

“It may take me a few moments to regain my potency, but I would be glad to use you again for my pleasure.” While this encounter with Karen was quite typical, the actuality would play out in a thousand different forms, I won’t bore you with a thousand examples. It was this point in the encounter where events may take a different turn. A large proportion of the ladies would object to the characterization of being “used”. The most strenuous objectors would end the encounter there and then, I would attempt to make sure they left with my calling card but not all would take it.

—

If I were to start at the beginning, I would say that I was born on the thirteenth day of January, in the year of our Lord Seventeen Hundred and Sixty Eight. This was an interesting time to be alive, it was a time of great discovery of Empires being built and of course wars. That same year I was born; James Cook set out on his voyage of discovery; Corsica was sold to France; and the Encyclopedia Britannica began to be published for the first time.

Cook’s voyage was largely made possible by the invention of the practical marine chronometer, along with the Sextant invented earlier in the century. The chronometer had been standardized only a couple of years before. Cook’s voyage was also notable that it was ostensibly for science, not just exploration. They were to observe the Transit of Venus from Tahiti. Cook also helped conquer the scourge of scurvy and did not lose a single man to it. When I was eleven years old, Cook came to a sticky end in Hawaii, while trying to kidnap their king.

Corsica became important as less than two years later Napoleon was born on that island. Though no one knew it at the time he would become a very important person to the world. The ripples of his existence even affected me personally.

While Britain was expanding her influence abroad, she made some mistakes. In the years preceding my birth, she taxed the American colonies, leading to open rebellion when I was seven. The last shot was fired when I was thirteen, thus the USA was born.

It was an exciting time in the sciences, in the preceding 100 years, seven new elements had been discovered. The first discovered since antiquity. Eleven more were discovered by the time I attained my majority. The very heavens were no longer fixed. Halley’s predictions of a comet’s return had been proven true earlier in the century and Herschel discovered Georges Star, when I was thirteen. That was the first planet discovered since antiquity. Though some might know the star better by the name of Saturn’s Father, Uranus.

Technology was proceeding apace, I was only one year old when a steam powered artillery carriage was demonstrated. Static steam engines were being used in the new industries. Vast areas of the country were blackened by the fires of these industries. It was less than two weeks before my eleventh birthday when the first Iron bridge was completed over Coalbrook dale. That was exciting, such a marvel and less than a day’s journey from me.

My father was a rector in the Welsh Marches. He held the living of several parishes, thus he received the tithes as well as had use of the glebe lands. He was a wealthy man because it. I did not know my father well, I had the education befitting the child of someone of his station. I was sent off to boarding school, my earliest memories are not happy ones of the school. I prefer to not dwell on school which lasted until I went up to Oxford.

One week after my fifteenth birthday I went up to Oxford, Pembroke college, and matriculated that week. In those days both senior and junior members of the college were celibate. Being confirmed in the Church of England I did not give this another thought. Also as I was in the church, I was not required to swear an oath of loyalty to the church, unlike those students of other denominations.

In those days, Oxford was a mere shadow of its former self. It was relegated almost to irrelevancy, though with a longer perspective, you might know it had already passed its nadir and was beginning its renaissance. With the exception of the college across the street (which shall remain nameless), attendance was dwindling. About one third of my fellow students were also sons of the clergy, I had a lot of company.

Oxford may have been in a chill, but it was still the place to learn. As well as my normal lessons in Rhetoric and Grammar, I would seek out others to learn from. Mathematics, chemistry, other physical sciences. Oxford may be a backwater, but there are plenty who will share their knowledge with you. The Bodleian library is an amazing place to learn, and I had it almost to myself.

Meanwhile the treaty of Paris ended the American revolution, and mankind conquered the heavens: The Mongolfiers flew their balloon in Paris. Next I learnt Politics, Logic and Economics. In Paris Ben Franklin invented his double spectacles. Something I did not care of at the time, but was greatly thankful for later in life. More logic, moral philosophy, geometry and greek rounded out my studies for my baccalaureate.

I was now eighteen and could have left and still taken my MA in three years time, but I stayed on for advanced studies. Natural philosophy, geometry and astronomy were simple, I’d been studying those for since matriculation. I added metaphysics, ancient history and more greek. In the world at large, James Watt invented the governor. This maybe the first time anyone had ever automated a machine. That the same year, prisoners were first transported to Australia.

It was Christmas of my twenty first year, the year I gained my majority that I attained the status of MA. That was the year that Uranium was discovered. It was named after the planet that the English still called George’s Star. The French also revolted, starting with the storming of the Bastille. Unlike the Americans, they had no colonial master to throw off. They took to regicide instead, though it took them a few years to work up the courage for that.

Unlike many of my fellow graduates, I did not embark on the grand tour. I had neither the means or inclination. I desired to make my mark on the world, and I set out to do just that. With the help of a loan from my father I started a business exporting the new technologies. I found Amsterdam to be a profitable place to operate from. I further discovered that arms were even more profitable than steam engines. The Dutch government was under threat, the Stadtholder, not just the leader of a city as his title would suggest, but their king, was unpopular. There were constant attempts at revolution. Revolution was in the air. The Americans had thrown off the might of Britannia, the French their king. The Dutch were a key British ally and bulwark against the republicans to the south.

I spent several years traveling between Amsterdam, London and Birmingham. I made my father’s stake back many fold and paid off the debt. That may be the last time I ever saw my father, when I paid off the debt. I had no intention of ever seeing him again subsequent to that. Of note during those years was the creation of the Ordnance Survey, they would map the entire country in the coming years. A very worthwhile feat.

It was in my 24th year that I met the love of my life, Aurora. Aurora Hendricks was the daughter of a successful Amsterdam merchant. It seems that I did not at first notice her, but she noticed me. She engineered further meetings where I did notice her. It was not long before I was madly in love and asking her father for her hand. He saw a potential profitable union, and assented to that. That I was not Dutch should not have mattered to her father, he had himself brought a bride back from abroad. Aurora’s mother was Swedish.

We were planning on a wedding in May of the following year, that would have been 1793. In February war broke out, the French First Republic declared war on Britain and on the Dutch Republic. That was very profitable for me, and my father-in-law to be, this was a very busy time for us. But I still found time to marry Aurora. I purchased a house on the Keizersgracht and we took up residence there.

We were both pure on our wedding night, as was proper. We celebrated our love and God’s greatest creation, the human body, with great gusto. The act of physical love was a revelation. I wondered why I had waited to long to do this. But almost immediately Aurora fell with child and no longer could I celebrate our love.

With Aurora’s body no longer available to me, I went out of my mind. That’s when I found out how accommodating the servants could be. The maids seemed to be vying for my attention, and so one day my senses left me. I gave into my base desires, a maid named Mary was the object of these desires. She was grateful for the attention, this gave her some elevated status among the servants. I also saw to it that her wage was increased.

And so began a game I would play with the servants. They would pretend my advances were unwelcome, the ones who protested most were the most desired, and most rewarded. This allowed my sanity to return, at least until Isaac was born. Then we could once again celebrate our love.

The the tide of events overtook us. The winter following Isaac’s birth with was severe. The French Republic took advantage of this to sent an army to aid those revolutionaries who opposed the Stadtholder. The rivers that usually defended against any threat from the South had frozen allowing the invasion. I was in London at the time and waited anxiously for news from Amsterdam.

It was a long cold winter. Just a week after my twenty seventh birthday, the Batavian Republic was declared in Holland. Eventually I got word that Aurora and Isaac were safe. When the weather allowed they took a roundabout route and joined me in London.

As one door closes, another opened. I had lost my operation in Amsterdam, but following the Battle or Muizenberg later that year, the British gained possession of the Cape Colony from the Batavian Republic. This was an important outpost, it could control the sea routes around the Cape of Good Hope to India, a vital trade route for Britain. Wresting control from the now hostile French puppet state in Holland was vital.

With Britain now in charge, it was possible for Britons to settle and trade there, previously the colony was the exclusive possession of the Dutch East India company. Now others needed a licence to settle but Britons could freely travel there. I felt there were great opportunities in this new land and travelled there with Aurora and Isaac. Elsewhere in the world; Napoleon marched on Turin; Edward Jenner administered the first vaccine; and Laplace proposed the nebular hypothesis of planetary formation. Progress marched even as the armies did.

Almost immediately Aurora fell with child again. I seemed to be more accepted by the Afrikaners, as the Dutch settlers now called themselves, than most Britons. I spoke their language and I had a Dutch wife. I was almost one of them, but not quite. We prospered in my our new home. The British largely kept to their promise not to interfere with the laws and customs of the Dutch/Afrikaner. The only change they made was to replace the barbarous method of capital punishment with hanging. The previous method was scarcely believable method of crucifixion and breaking on the cross. (That is breaking all the major bones in the body while affixed to a cross.) The Dutch used their peculiar version of Roman law, so I can only speculate this was just another aspect of Roman law.

The only other time you might notice Roman law is when dealing with bureaucrats. They would not talk to Aurora, just to me. Under the Roman system a woman loses her majority on being married, and basically becomes a child in law and the responsibility of the husband. This was the same as it had been in Amsterdam, so it did not particularly matter. In London Aurora had been legally an adult, but covered by my legal presence under the theory of coverture. In practice this does not make a difference, but when dealing with an Afrikaner bureaucrat it can lead to annoyance. The Afrikaner has the hardest head of any known mammal, particularly the bureaucrat.

That summer Gregor was born to us and we settled into our new prosperous life. Our life was quiet and comfortable, while in the rest of the world battles raged. Napoleon invaded Egypt, he found the Rosetta stone there, a major event for linguists and Egyptologist. Napoleon lost heavily to Nelson at the Battle of Nile. In Britain income tax was introduced as a temporary measure to fund the wars. Volta demonstrated his electric pile, the electric battery was born. Ireland was admitted to the United Kingdom by the Act of Union in 1801, to join England and Scotland. Both England and France conducted censuses, along the American model. Now they knew how many troops they could raise if need be.

I noticed that there was not a third baby on the way, after the first two had been so quick. We were still celebrating our physical love, if anything with increased ardor as we were not disturbed by Aurora falling with child. My doctor speculated that the bout of squinancy I had suffered shortly before Gregor’s birth was responsible. It had traveled, quite painfully, below the belt.

Times were a little anxious in 1802 when the Colony was returned to the Batavian Republic following the Peace of Armiens. That made little difference to us, ensconced as we were. Though I endeavored to not make waves and be noticed. The world carried on, Trevithick demonstrated his London Steam Carriage, the first self powered passenger road vehicle. Then he ran a steam railway in South Wales. Dalton was forming the modern atomic theory. When Napoleon was crowned Emperor this was a worrying sign. War broke out, Nelson was killed in his moment of victory at Trafalgar.

The summer before Trafalgar, Aurora fell ill. She suffered headaches and started wasting away. The doctors were at a loss to do anything. The week before my 37th birthday, the British again occupied the colony. Some of the recent Dutch immigrants were now keen to leave. I bought Seaview from one such Dutchman. This was an expansive property, a profitable farm and a large comfortable farmhouse. It was on a kop, so despite being miles inland, you could see the masts of sailing ships out on the Atlantic. I brought it as a going concern with all staff and slaves necessary to run it.

The out going owner’s household was somewhat larger than ours, so we had more staff than was actually necessary for our needs. However with Aurora’s ongoing illness, these extra staff could be of help. March 20th was the worst day of my life, Aurora died. I sunk into a deep chill, the staff tried to console me. Even the usual carnal pleasures hardly excited me. Then on April 12th, I awoke in a different place and time.

—

I was awoken by a loud knocking. My surroundings were unfamiliar, but I found a dressing gown on the back of the door and made my way towards the knocking. A narrow hallway lead towards another door and the source of the knocking. I opened the door, a man was standing there wearing a strange uniform. He stated my name, “Stephen Somers?”, it seemed like an interrogative, so I affirmed that I was indeed myself. He asked me to sign a strange tablet, I did so, and the man gave me two packages.

The packages were both marked “FedEx” in large colourful letters, one also said “Envelope” and the other “Large Box”, though it didn’t seem particularly large to me. I closed the door and surveyed my surroundings. I seemed to be in a small, sparsely furnished and sparsely decorated apartment. To my right was a table, a dining table I presumed with four chairs arrayed around it. I set the packages down on the table and took a seat. Then I noticed the table, it was made out of a massive slab of crystal, it was an engineering marvel.

I set aside that conundrum while I examined the packages. The envelope suggested I should pull a tab, so I did and the envelope was open. Inside was sheet of paper, remarkably white paper, with printing on it, and a envelope which looks remarkably like my stationary. The printed letter said:

Dear Sir.

Our Client has asked that we forward the the enclosed to you.

and was signed by someone I didn’t know.

I opened the envelope, inside was a sheet of my stationary with my handwriting on it, my address was at the top. There was no salutation, the first paragraph was: “If you have not done so, you should open the other package.” Who was I to argue with myself, I opened the other package. Inside was another printed letter similar to the first directing me to accompanying larger envelope labelled “Large Pak”. Inside the Pak was a letter addressed to me, again it looked like my stationary, and a large envelope.

I opened the letter, my address was at the top, the handwriting looked similar to my own, but somewhat sloppy penmanship.

Dear Stephen,

If I am right, this letter has reached you and you have many questions, you are in the year anno domini 2006. I do not know how this happened, I am now in your place in 1806, and I assume you are in my place in 2006. I have been living your life for 6 years. I have written the details in the enclosed manuscript.

If you are indeed stranded in 2006, you will need to know how to live my life. You will find my PowerBook to be useful, it can answer almost any question you have. The PowerBook is the metal box you should find propped up against the couch. You’ll need to know the password is “D a w n 4 E v e r”. You should find “Safari” in the dock on the left of the screen. If you type your question into the box on the right, your question should be answered. If these instructions sound strange, I suggest you experiment.

If you can not follow these instructions, I suggest you ask at the Apple store. If you go out the front of the apartment building, and turn right. Walk about 4 blocks, you should find the Apple store on the right. Look for the big white symbolic Apple. Ask one of the employees how to do a “Google Search”.

I hope you enjoy my life as I have enjoyed yours, and that this situation resolves itself in due course.

This was a strange turn of events, I went back to the other letter to myself. It continued:

I hope you found the other letter illuminating. If you do not have the other letter, I suggest you investigate Stephen’s PowerBook, you should find this propped up against the couch. It is a small metal box, open it and type in the password “D a w n F o r e v e r” It is important to distinguish between the Capital letters and the small letters. Move your finger on the small pad in front of the letters. On screen you will see the arrow move in sympathy with your finger. Move it to the left to find “Safari”. Push on the button below the pad, this will bring you to Safari. Move the arrow to the box at the top right, and click on it. Now type in any question you have. It is remarkable how good this “Google” is at searching for the answer.

I can not tell you much else, as the River Song says, “Spoilers”. It should be obvious that you do arrive back home, in the mean time, you should live Stephen’s life to the fullest. It holds lots of interesting possibilities. I will say, look out for fruit and coffee. (67.04, 50.67, 199.83, 78.2, 702.1 and 38.25, 35.24, 3x, 43.74, 24.36, 111.62) and look out for Maria.

Live Long and Prosper.

The missives were somewhat cryptic, but did seem to indicate the PowerBook was the crux of the matter. I looked around for it, or the couch. The couch was sitting along one wall, it was black leather and rather spindly, quite a feat of engineering in itself. A small dull grey/silver box was indeed propped up at one end. A white cord connected to the box, the cord was glowing green. I retrieved the PowerBook, found the cord unplugged itself and stopped glowing, I brought it to the table and attempted to follow the instructions. The instructions did actually make sense once you had the PowerBook in your hands, and the Google was indeed a worthy oracle.

I learnt a lot about my new world in the next few hours. I was relieved to see that Napoleon was eventually defeated, though it took two attempts. This lead to a Pax Britannica for a hundred year, Britain was the mightiest empire the world has seen, not a surprising development. The French seemed to be lost until their third Attempt at a republic. It was difficult to believe that the Pax ended with France as a British ally, and the Prussians then attacked this new alliance. The Prussian wars, hot or cold, lasted for almost 80 years and broke the British empire apart. Britain became a minor player on the world stage, an uneasy peace settled on Europe. Europe was now a union, with a weak Russia on one side, a strong America on the other, and China a rising star in the East.

Back home in the Cape, the English flooded the area with settlers. The hard headed Afrikaners first trekked across the country, before fighting several wars with Britain, only to acknowledge the British crown. That was scarcely believable, maybe they were just biding their time. They waited sixty years before throwing off the British and became pariahs by oppressing the Africans. The Africans of course had been freed shortly after my time. Amazingly, the Afrikaners eventually bowed to international pressure and let the Africans run things. I never thought I’d live to see either of those things, or maybe I didn’t.

I also found out a lot about my host Stephen, one of his cousins had compiled an impressive genealogy of my family. It stretched from five generations before me to the next two generations from Stephen. I found that I was Stephen’s sixth-Great Grandfather. Finding yourself as just a few paragraphs of notes is startling. I tried not to notice the date of my death, something I didn’t want to know. It was not noted that I ever remarried, I only had the two issue of Isaac and Gregor. Stephen was the unbroken eldest male line from that earliest known ancestor. Though it seemed that Stephen had no issue, his wife, Dawn, also had died recently, so the line would end with him. It noted that Stephen had also taken his MA from Pembroke college.

Stephen’s father, Nicholas, had fled the Cape shortly after the Afrikaners threw off the British, completing my journey and settling back into the Welsh marches. There were some hints that the Afrikaners were displeased with Nicholas for his sympathies with the Africans.

I also found Stephen’s stock holdings. I found that he was a wealthy man, his holdings amounted to millions of US dollars. Which, while not the astronomical fortune it was in my day, was definitely a tidy sum. He also had holdings in a company called “Apple”, which seemed to be the manufacturer of the marvelous machine which was answering my questions. Its closing price for that day’s trading was 67.04, and upon searching for “coffee” I found the Green Mountain Coffee Roasters had a closing price of 38.25. If the rest of the numbers were also stock prices, this could be very profitable. I’d keep an eye on those prices.

I also started to peruse the manuscript Stephen wrote, it was making an interesting story. He showed a very strange position regarding slavery, trying his hardest to free the slaves, despite what this would do to my (his?) business. He also seemed to be sweet on one of the slaves, by the name of Maria, I found this an interesting development considering my admonishment that I should look out for her, whatever this meant. There was a portrait of Maria included with the Manuscript. I think I may remember her slightly among my slaves, I usually left the days to day running of the business to my overseers.

—

Among the things I learnt about my new world was that the experiment in America had gone in unexpected directions. The Americans after throwing off their colonial master had gone back to first principles and tried to form a society on those. Start with some reasonable axioms, that speech, the press and religion should all be free and ruthlessly apply this logic and what you end up with is twenty first century America.

Speech was so free that no one gave a second thought to sedition. Technology now made speech so cheap that everyone was shouting sedition from the rooftops, and no one took any notice. Sexual perversion was no longer persecuted, it was celebrated. The state in which I lived was now proud to produce pornography in unimaginable quantities, enough to make a pornē blush. The internet distributed this with such ruthless efficiency that if you could think of a perversion, someone already had packaged it for you and you could talk to its adherents.

In this society, I found myself classified as a Dom. Not the dominus, dons as I knew them, masters at college, but those who seek to dominate. My perfectly normal ideas that the man should rule the woman was now seen as a perversion. There was of course a society online who adhered to this perversion. There were doms, and there were subs, those who submitted. These came in many flavors from the very mild, to the very harsh. The physical expression of these people was very varied. Bondage and flagellation was a common, I really saw no need for such practices. All I wanted was that the woman would acknowledge the natural order and submit to the man. There was really nothing “kinky” in what I wanted, but this century judged me differently.

I found myself participating on a forum for doms and dommes (the female version, such a mystifying concept). I would put forward perfectly reasonable ideas and I was assailed from all sides attacking me. I drew on my training in logic and refuted the attacks perfectly. One unexpected consequence of this was some private messages from some of the dommes, they wanted to know how I would treat them as a woman. Of course I would treat them with the utmost respect as due their gender, but they would be subservient to me. I would use them for my pleasure as it right, but I would see that they were well satisfied in return. All they needed to do was ask me to “use me for your pleasure”, and I would show them.

Some of them did just that. One particularly successful one was Amy, “AngelAmy. After she asked to be used for my pleasure, I arranged for her to come visit. She made good sport. As she stepped across the threshold, I extended my hand and she took it, expecting a handshake. I took her arm and bent it up behind her back, “Ow! Let go of me!” Her pleas merely excited me more, I marched her to the crystal dining table and she was bent over it.

Her skirt was a pleasing yellow mini-skirt, it hardly covered anything. This mode of dress was a pleasing development of the past few decades. Her briefest of breif white drawers provided no barrier as they abandoned her bum. My manhood was soon freed from his prison and found a new home in Amy’s womanly place, she was ready for me. I thrust vigorously, her moans of pain from my abuse of her arm, blended into moans of passion.

Thrust, thrust, thrust. Her moan became screams and her body danced to her passion, then she was still. I did not let her rest, I pulled her to her feet and reached around to undo the buttons on her jacket. The jacket had seemed rather incongruous and masculine, such as a man might wear. I pulled her jacket down to her elbows, immobilizing her, this brought her brassiere strap into view, so I unhooked that.

I marched her over to the couch, there I took her jacket and brassiere, leaving her standing clad in just the yellow miniskirt. The brassiere was lacy, looking quite fetching, I wondered if I should have left it on. She was now standing in just her miniskirt, appearing most wanton. She inflamed my passion greatly. She had not quite regained her sensibilities and looked stunned at the turn of events. I sat down, my manhood was standing proud. I looked sternly at her and at my manhood.

She understood my intent and knelt in front of me, taking me into her mouth. This maybe my favorite aspect of the twenty-first century. I gloried in the act. To soon I had to decide whether to broadcast my seed into her mouth, or to break the spell she was casting on me. I broke the spell, roughly I shoved her onto the couch, I took my position between her thighs and thrust my manhood back into its rightful home. Again she moaned and screamed and danced. Again she was reaching her climax. I let her passion feed mine and shot my broadside into her.

I collapsed onto the couch, adjacent to the supine Amy, to await the return of my wits. Amy opened her vacant eyes, then focused on me. “Wow! Thank you. You can do that to me any time.” Then she snuggled up to me.

“You merely have to ask, and I will be pleased to use you again.” She sighed.

I made further use of her talented mouth that evening. This time I felt this was a suitable place to broadcast my seed to.

–

I continued to observe the stock pricing, both the fruit and coffee hit the next predicted value on the same day in mid July. It was a Friday, I was anxious over the weekend waiting for the markets to reopen to fulfill first my sell orders to raise the capital, then the buy orders I made. I invested fully one third of my portfolio, half of a million dollars in each stock. By modern economic theory this was an unwise move. I hoped that I really did have knowledge that would allow me to beat the market. One of the axioms of the economic theories was that this knowledge did not exist.

The portfolio that Stephen had left me with was a good one that had grown well. I see from some of his writings that he was considering retiring and living just on the income from his holdings. The current conventional wisdom was that it could support a modest but comfortable income. As I did not have the skills that Stephen did to allow me to make a living in his previous line of work, living off the holdings was a necessity for me. I took a modest wage from it, but converting fully one third of the portfolio to speculation was a great risk. My wage would now strain the remaining portfolio.

As it turned out, I needn’t have worried, the stock market was undergoing a boom at that time. The portfolio grew healthily even without the speculative one third. Eighteen months later the fruit hit its predicted high on tweede nuwe jaar of 2008. (That’s the second of new year, it’s a traditional holiday for slaves in Cape Colony.) I divested from the fruit, that such a powerful company was going to take such a deep fall (if my information was correct), gave me great foreboding. I converted the rest of the portfolio to cash and waited developments. This was a risky move, cash does not earn as much as stock, on average I was straining my portfolio even more.

The markets slowly drifted down, in mid June the coffee hit its predicted high, so I sold that. I had gained somewhere around two million with these investments, my stake had risen threefold. I was now totally out of the market. So when the market crashed in August and September I stood by, amused, safe in cash. In November and December I bought back into the market. I bought back into the fruit and coffee, but only at half the value of my previous holdings. This left me with a larger portfolio than I started with and the speculative stocks in fruit and coffee. The market rose strongly in the recovery from the crash.

At this time real estate was a good investment, the crash had been brought about, as usual, by a speculative bubble. Bubbles were nothing new, the merchants in my Amsterdam were still haunted by the spectre of the tulip bubble over a century before my time. This time the bubble was in housing and mortgages. Whatever the cause it was a good time to buy. I took about half of my portfolio and took on a goodly mortgage to buy one of the apartments on the top floor. These apartments were more in the style I was used to, there were only two of them for the entire floor. I had to increase the wage I paid myself to cover the mortgage, to much more than a sustainable level, but the markets grew so strongly during this time the portfolio grew despite this.

I lived a comfortable life and watched my investments and speculations grow. In September of 2011 the coffee hit its predicted high. By this time it had bought Kurig and changed its name, to Kurig. Kurig it seemed was a popular method of making coffee. My stake had grown to thirteen million, so now I had a abundance of cash. I paid off the mortgage on the apartment, bought the other apartment on the floor and extensively remodeled both apartments. The other apartment now became servants quarters. Should I ever want servants.

I had grow accustomed to living somewhat frugally, without the staff I had been used to. In this modern world it really was difficult to support a large staff. The relative wages of even menials was quite ruinous. I couldn’t afford a large staff even on my expanded means. There were agencies who could supply staff to you for occasions when you needed them, but such arrangements take quite some work. What I needed was a butler to run the household, even if the household was just me. While I never did take on additional servants, there were some I bartered accommodation for household services. A maid to clean, only once a week was necessary; the chef who services I used; they helped fill the other apartment.

The next September I divested from the fruit as it hit its high, that netted another six million. I now had the means to live quite an extravagant lifestyle if I wanted. I continued to live relatively frugally, well within my means and my portfolio grew, even as I moved into more conservative investments.

—

Given my training in the sciences, I found the intervening two hundred years quite fascinating. There was the rise of Thermodynamics, ElectroMagnetism, Relativity and Quantum Mechanics. Thermodynamics had its roots in my day and before. It was the theory behind machines and allowed the rise of the brute machine. In my day an 80 horsepower engine was a giant behemoth, occupying an entire building. Now I found I owed a car that output 115 horsepower and I could encompass the engine in my arms. That was maybe the least powerful car on sale at that time.

ElectroMagnetism, as so neatly summarized in Maxwell’s equations was of course the basic building block of all modern technology. It was such an immature science when I knew it, it’s quite amazing what it became. No one in my time had the slightest inkling of what it could achieve.

Relativity, largely the work of one man, who rightfully stands alongside Newton as the greats of science explains much of the mysteries of the universe. All the way back until the the universe is one Planck time old, and no god in sight. This had me questioning the need for a god at all, the universe seemed to work perfectly well without one.

Quantum mechanics was mystifying and held a lot of promise for the future. It was only slightly more advanced than ElectroMagnatism was in my time. It’s humbling and awe-inspiring to think where it might lead.

One place I hoped Relativity and Quantum Mechanics might lead was home. I knew that I did eventually get back home to the Nineteenth Century. How I would effect this was unknown. My future self did not want to create a paradox, so he had left me to work out this puzzle. If there was an answer the best places to look for it seemed to be in relativity and quantum mechanics. To that end I studied them. I found out how to get reading privileges at the local university and started reading their books.

The library was not nearly as impressive as the Bodleian was even in my day. In my new time, the Bodleian was a most impressive institution spanning most of the heart of Oxford. This one did however have books I wanted to read. To that end I approached the librarian’s desk in the physics section. The young lady behind the counter seemed lost in her own thoughts. I hated to interrupt her reverie, but I cleared my throat and said, “Excuse me miss, could you help me?”

The young lady looked very startled at my interruption and looked at me. Her expression changed subtly, she looked interested in me. She twirled her hair, a sign of interest from the fair sex. She had shoulder length black hair, at that time I though she was a Latina, as are quite common in this state. She replied with a somewhat breathless, “I certainly hope I can help you.” While looking me straight in the eye. She definitely seemed interested in me.

I asked for the book, and she said she’ll show me where I can find it. She got up from the desk and shows me to the back of the library. I am quite sure this is not the right section for the book I was looking for when she told me, “I have no knickers on and my pussy is very wet.” This was really quiet forward of her, but it did leave little room for doubt about what she hoped would happen next.

So I asked her, “Do you perceive this to be a problem, could I help you with it?”

Her reply to that was even more forward than before, “A good stiff dick rammed up it is what I need right now.”

She really did seemed to be worked up, so I took charge. I pinned her arms behind her back, and reached under her skirt with my other hand. I said, “I think I might be able to help with that, but I should check the problem first.” Under her skirt, I found no drawers. My fingers slipped inside her womanly place, a shiver ran through her and a moan escaped her lips. I think she reached a climax. This was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

I bent her over and freed myself from my trousers. Taking her skirt out of the way, I thrust into her. Thankfully, she was quiet about it, in our semi public place much noise could bring unwelcome attention. The semi-public nature of our coupling pointed to an expeditious conclusion, so I did not hold myself back. The librarian had already come to a climax once, that did not prevent her from doing so again. I took this cue and shot my wad into her.

I tried to retain enough sense to keep us both upright and on our feet. The hurried nature of the coupling meant we could not take the time to recover from out passion. I released her from the arm lock, she steadied her self on the shelf and I put myself away. I had two orders of business left, so I enumerated them, “first you will show me where the book actually is, then you will accompany me to my home. Once there I will use you further for my pleasure.”

She started to speak, but this seemed an inopportune time, so I put my fingers to my lips, “Shh. You will also be silent unless I speak to you.” She showed herself to be a willing partner, and I presumed she was actually a sub, so would appreciate being ordered. Usually subs are not that interesting, no spirit, but they make for an interesting diversion occasionally.

We found the book I was looking for, she checked me out, then she accompanied me to my car. We took our places and as I started the drive home, I asked her, “So miss librarian, what is your name?”

“Jo.” Was the simple answer. I assume that was “Jo.”, not “Joe.” It seemed to be a fashion for girls in this new age.

I reached over and drew up her skirt, exposing her womanly charms. “Do you make a habit of performing your librarianship semi-clothed?”

“Sometimes, it’s part of my attempts to change the image of librarianship.”

“And do you make a habit of demanding sex in exchange for your books. I imagine that would make you a very popular librarian.”

“No, I have never serviced a client like that at work before. You were just so sexy dolled up and with your accent.” I had previously apprehended the expression dolled up, she was referring to my manner of dress. I found the world I was in standards of dress were appalling, I tried to dress in a more reasonable fashion, but some took me as odd for it. My accent didn’t sound any different to me, but it had been remarked on often, so I assumed it stood out somewhat to the natives. She did however continue, “I almost came when you asked me for help, I was already wishing I could get fucked, sitting in a pool of pussy juice.”

I held up a finger for her to be quiet. She was somewhat loquacious and seemed determined to talk even if I had told her not to. It seemed this was my lucky day to visit the library. It did not take us long to arrive home, I showed her up to the apartment. I was now living in the top floor apartment and it was newly remodeled.

James opened the door as we approached, I ushered Jo in and dismissed James, “Thank you James, I won’t be needed you further tonight.” James was my butler, he looked remarkably like my butler in 1806. When I was interviewing for the position in the newly expanded apartment, his application stood out. I could almost imagine I was back in my own time with James there. However, I didn’t need his services further as I was planning on making use of Jo’s services in private.

Jo seemed to be bursting wanting to say something, as I ushered her into the lounge. However when she stepped in she stopped and surveyed the scene open mouthed in astonishment. “You seem to want to say something, I will allow you two sentences.” If I let her speak we’d be there all night.

“You have a butler?” That was a question, “This room is amazing, and that view. It’s bigger than my entire apartment.” I counted that three sentences.

I sat down, but did not indicate that Jo should. I sat and watched as she was trying to decide what to do. “I make that three sentences.” I looked at her sternly, she bowed and stayed mute. “Yes, I have a butler. I need someone to run the household. The size of this room has been remarked upon in that fashion before, and the view is one of the best in the city. I like my little Pied-à-terre.” One of my guests had previously used that phrase, I liked the sound of it, particularly as it indicated I might get back to my real home sometime.

I spent an enjoyable evening using Jo, but that story isn’t that much different from many others.

—

I continued in my comfortable existence. My studies of relativity and quantum mechanics did not lead to any concrete answer on how to get home. They were an enjoyable way to pass the time though. The ladies of San Francisco, at least those who were not outright tribads, also helped pass the time enjoyably. Again the norms of society changed. Now sodomy among men did not condemn you to the gallows, it was now celebrated. San Francisco it seemed had a particularly strong “gay” community. They even took to marching in celebration past my front door.

I tried to live and let live when it came to such matters. Not drawing attention to myself was one of my prime motivations. When they assaulted the holy order of matrimony I had my doubts. When I expressed my doubts, as I tended to do, on an open forum, I was assaulted with hate and vitriol. However there was the occasional point of view which used logic instead of hate. In time I was persuaded that there was no logical reason against it. I also saw that the others ostensibly on my side were also filled with hate, they were not people I wanted to associate with. With logic for, and hate against, I unhappily chose the side of logic. Though when I had the chance to vote in a plebiscite about the matter I abstained. I could step aside and let them pass, I could not help them on their journey.

Tribadism was hardly remarked on in my time, now again it was celebrated. The men of this time liked watching pornography for such, now they called it “Lesbian” named for Sappho’s home. Somewhere in the intervening centuries, Sappho had now gained a different reputation from that in my time. Such behavior might have been largely ignored in my time as the female was a little understood creature. All those of import were men, they paid very little heed to the female of the species. One of the mysteries largely ignored by men was the female sexual climax.

Now called “orgasm”, with a rather different meaning than that word in my day. The female orgasm was now appreciated, if not understood by the male population. I must say I did not appreciate it in my day, but can see that it did happen, sometimes. Such is progress. If the female orgasm is unknown, what are men to make of “Lesbians”, it’s obvious there’s no sex act they can perform on each other, so one never thinks of them. Such relationships went unremarked as “close friends” or other euphemisms. Some I now suspect of such a relationship would be my former lady’s maids, Smith and Smits. Smits was one of the spare staff when I took over the household, but she was a sweet girl and she was most helpful in my wife’s final days. When I had enough humour, I would make sport of one or either one.

This lead to one of the more extraordinary coincidences I found in my new life. I came across Smith and Smits. They were a couple on one forum I was browsing. They used the names “Louisa” and “Hanna”, I think that was also the Christian names of my maids. They were a couple, Lesbian presumably, Louisa (Smith) was the dominant, she was looking for a domme to experiment with.

I wrote a respectful message to Louisa asking if she would entertain the possibility of experimenting with me. They were not interested. However further conversations elicited the fact that they were about to lose their home, I offered to let them stay in one of my spare rooms. At first this also met with no interest, but when they realised I had three spare rooms in my apartment and a few next door with no one inhabiting them, they were more interested. I would let them stay for free, with no reciprocation expected.

My act of charity was not purely altruistic. That they seemed to be clones, to use a modern word, of my lady’s maids was intriguing. Such a coincidence deserved further study. I also had some notion that if I could make my current state closer to my sate as it was in the nineteenth century, then it might make it easier to get home. That was not a fully fledged theory and smacked more of magic, which is of course preposterous. My very position in this century was in itself preposterous, so I could not discard any theory.

We became close in a Platonic way. I left them to themselves, and I’m sure they did not know what to make of me. I had my parade of conquests through my apartment, they kept to themselves in their rooms. Occasionally they would ask “Why do you want to hang out with a couple of dykes like us?” ‘Dyke’ of course being yet another current word for tribad. I had no real explanation for them which would not reveal my secret so I just appeared mysterious.

That was until one day we were just “hanging” in the lounge. I was without female companionship that evening, that was unusual enough to be remarked upon. We had enough wine or beer inside of us that we spoke even more freely than usual. I really don’t remember what happened exactly except that I told them of my origin. I’m not sure they believed me, but it was good to confide about this to someone, I hadn’t dared speak of it to anyone in eight years. They did remark that this would explain a lot about me. I won’t go into detail about the rest of the evening, suffice to say I bedded them both. In the morning there were shy smiles, we remained close but usually Platonic.

I travelled freely during my years in the twenty first century, modern technology made travel so much easier than in my day. I visited both familiar and unfamiliar places. The familiar places were, for the most part, no longer familiar. The iron bridge over Coalbook Dale, now in a town called “Ironbridge”, was amusing. I never had managed to travel the twenty miles from home to see it. My father’s parishes still existed, he was listed as a past rector on the wall of at least one of the churches.

Oxford was little changed on the surface, though now it had completed its renaissance and was a world renowned institution. Though they were slightly jealous that “the other place” (which shall remain nameless) was reckoned superior in physical sciences. (29 Nobel laureates in physics alone, where Oxford might struggle to find ten). London still had the same streets, but there was a lot more of it these days, stretching endlessly in all directions. I found Nelson’s flagship was still in commission in the Royal Navy and I could stand on the very spot Nelson fell. In Amsterdam I found my old house, one of its neighbors was now a museum. It was eery wandering through the museum which look just as I remembered my neighbor’s houses.

I embarked on my own grand tour. I now had the means and the inclination, I had little else to do. This was not the arduous journey to was in my day, I could go home whenever I felt so inclined. I visited usual places, Paris, Geneva, Turin, Florence, Rome, and many others in Italy. The wonders of Pompeii were now well worn on the tourist route, it had been a modern novelty in my day. Geneva held a rather more modern item of interest than in my day, by the name of “CERN”. Unfortunately the great machine was not available for visitors to see.

I made my way through Greece and the ancient sites of Athens, Minos, Olympia. Down into the holy land, still a dangerous place as well as Egypt and the site of Nelson’s victory. Back through Constantinople, Vienna and Berlin. I added Scandanavia, places Aurora had leant about from her mother. There was also Spain and Portugal. I ventured further afield. Tahiti and Hawaii in the footsteps of Cook, Australia, now proud of its convict heritage. There were many others. At first I traveled frugally, economy class and budget hotels. After my bets on fruit and coffee paid off, I could afford first class and five star hotels. However I travelled, I was never short of a companionship, either I took one of my conquests, or I found them as I went.

Maria may be the final thread in my story. I had admonished myself to look out for her, but did not spy her until four months ago. She was leaving her car as I was arriving. She did not see me, but I definitely saw her. She was parked in the space for my old apartment. I looked up the record of the recent purchase of that apartment and I had a name.

I dug further and discovered that she was Dr Maria Freeman, a member of the humanities faculty at SFSU, her speciality was slavery. Not just her professional study, but also in her private life. I found her online persona of “DarkMaria” on the Domme forum. She plainly had problems with white men and seemed happiest when abusing them. She did seem to have no shortage of volunteers to be abused. It seems that she emigrated from South Africa with her mother when she was six, I suspected this was not coincidence.

I researched Maria thoroughly, as part of my researches I visited Cape Town. I had previously never gone that way, for no particular reason. When I got to Cape Town, my old farm was gone and built on. Only street names remained to remind me of people I knew. I researched genealogy, I had two places to start, with the current Maria and with the former Maria. I managed to find records to tie all of them together. The current Maria was the unbroken eldest female line since the first. During my trip to Cape Town I had an increasing feeling of being watched. This was the same feeling I’d had in my last days in 1806. At that time I put it down to grief, but now I was convinced the process was going to reverse itself. Back in my pied-à-terre I had two things to do, research fast growing stocks for the previous eight years, and to contact Maria.

The stock research was necessary to avoid paradox as much as possible. Information must come from somewhere. I had burnt the letter containing the stock prices. I needed to research on my own stocks to tip off my former self to. I found a very useful article, “Google’s IPO, 10 Years Later: Just 10 Stocks Beat It”. The top performing stock during that time was Keurig Green Mountain. The number four performing stock was Apple. These two seemed suitable. Nasdaq gave closing prices for each day in the last decade, I had to unadjust the prices for splits. I came up with a small number of inflexion points which would give most profit for least information. I set about to memorise the prices.

I steeled myself and contacted Maria. I sent her a private message to her DarkMaria persona, “I used to own your ancestor, would you like to talk.”

I think I succeeded in piquing her interest, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Was the response.

I expanded, “Your direct ancestor, Maria Freeman, was a slave and was freed in 1806. I owned her before that. Given your day job, I thought you might like to talk to me.” I included the picture of her that the other Stephen had sent me.

She got defensive, “My day job? Are you trying to blackmail me?”

I tried to lighten the mood, “I’m not blackmailing you, I’m luring you with free candy.”

There was an inkling of interest, “What candy do you have for me?”

“An insight into the mind of a salve owner. Why don’t you email me.” I gave her my email address.

She responded by email, “What insights do you have?”

“I’d prefer to tell you in person. I suggest dinner, your choice, I pay.”

The reply was terse, “Saison”. That was maybe the most expensive restaurant in San Francisco, also a bit difficult to get reservations. I suspected this was a test of means or some such. My chef knew the chef at Saison, I managed to get a reservation.

“I have reservations for 7:30 on Tuesday, I’ll send a Limo for you.” I was thinking of walking there, it would only take about a twenty minutes. I could have ridden in the limo, but I didn’t want to say where I lived just yet. Though obviously I knew where she lived.

“OK, see you Tuesday.”

—

On Tuesday I was waiting in the restaurant at 7:30, Maria arrived at 7:35, she made the limo driver wait while she got ready. She looked like someone who was used to getting her way, I rose as she strode up to the table, then bowed to her and said, “I’ve very pleased to meet you Dr Freeman.” I offered my hand, but she ignored it and took her seat.

I sat, she started with, “So what’s this crap you’re spouting?”

I really didn’t know why, but I felt I needed to get her attention. This was of vital import. I thought I’d get to the heart of the matter quickly. “First, I can offer evidence for everything I say. You may need it, what I have to say is scarcely credible.” She didn’t look impressed. “I’m a time traveler.” Luckily that concept was well known, at least in fiction, it obviated much explanation.

She looked a bit startled at that, “I’m listening.”

“I haven’t physically travelled in time, I’ve swapped consciousness with this body. I don’t know how or why. I come from two hundred years ago.”

“Well, this isn’t going to be a boring dinner. Continue.”

We were interrupted by ordering drinks, then I continued. “The last I remember is early 1806. Then I was the sixth great grandfather of this body. I happened to own your seventh great grandmother, also by the name of Maria. The Stephen from this time displaced me and by his account one of the first things he did was to free that Maria. They became business partners, I think they were lovers.”

“So I was your favorite slave then?” She wasn’t believing me, she was thinking this was a come on.

“No, I hardly remember that Maria, she was just one slave among many. It’s the Stephen from this time who knows her.”

“So if you didn’t care about me, what is it you’re selling?”

“I don’t know. My future self wrote to me and said I should look out for you. Why, I don’t know. But I thought you might have a professional interest in talking to me. You don’t often get a chance to talk to a nineteenth century slave owner. Or do you?”

“No, I never have had that chance. Your future self?”

“I received a letter I sent from the nineteenth century. I am presuming that this means I make it back home at some point. I’m not very specific, not wanting to provide me with spoilers. The one thing I do say is ‘look out for Maria’. Cryptic, but now I know who you are, I think you are that Maria.” I had found out what, or rather who, the River Song was, and indeed what was spoiled.

“This certainly is the best come on I’ve ever gotten, why didn’t you apply to join the fan club like all the others?”

“I would claim that this is not a come on, but you would not believe me. I would not care to be one of your fan club, my interests don’t lie in that direction.”

“You’re telling me you’re gay?”

“No, I’m not a sub. I think I’m a normal man, but that makes me a Dom in this time.”

“You want me to submit to you?”

“No. Though now you come to mention it, if you wanted to I would not object. I find that Dommes make entertaining lovers, I could provide references.”

She looked a little peeved at that, “Like who?”

“Well, I’m sworn to secrecy, but given the extraordinary circumstances, I might make an exception. Would you swear that this will go no further.”

“OK.”

“No, you have to swear an oath properly.”

“OK, I swear that I will not tell anyone.” That should suffice, I hoped I was not unwise divulging these confidences.

“AngelAmy,” I mentioned the handle by which she was known on the Domme’s forum.

“No!”

“CarolR,”

“That bitch, I hope you gave her what she deserves.” She laughed. I was worried by her reaction.

“Remember, you swore not to tell anyone of this. I don’t know what you think Carol deserves, but I treat all my women with the utmost respect. They merely have to acknowledge that I, as a man, am superior to them, and I can use them for my pleasure as I see fit. I can only presume that they enjoy the experience, they all came back for more, several times.”

“I’m going to have to ask Amy about that, you sounded like you had another name.”

“KillerKlaire.” She chuckled at that. We were interrupted by the waiter taking our order.

With that diversion dispatched, I tried again. “I’m yours for the evening, what do you want to know?” This time she accepted my offer, she interviewed me. I responded with total honesty, with more candour that would normally be proper. It was surprisingly intimate to bare your soul in the midst of a restaurant. We also touched on Stephen’s history. When I mentioned his father, Nicholas, had left the Cape in a hurry, closely pursued by BOSS because of his dealing with the ANC, her attitudes softened somewhat. (I note that BOSS is the Afrikaner’s Bureau of State Security, most unpleasant. The ANC is of course the Africans, freedom fighters or terrorists depending on your point of view.)

Her mother had told her similar stories of their exodus, it seems that Stephen and Maria had some things in common. We’ll never know, but Stephen’s mother and Maria’s mother may have been neighbors. I’d found reference to his Mother living in “District 6” when she was a nursing student. It was a rough area it seems, such that policemen would only venture there in pairs. Maria’s mother had also lived there at that time, however she was forced out of the area and sent to the flats by the Afrikaners before Maria was born.

All to soon the evening was over. I felt quite lightheaded, I hardly noticed the bill which might be quite startling in normal circumstances. This was not normal though, I felt happy, a humour I had scarcely experienced these eight years since Aurora passed. I started to suspect, as a wry song on Stephen’s iPod says, “I’m either in love, or it’s something I ate, because I never felt this way before.” Except I had felt this way before, but not for 222 years.

Maria’s attitude towards me seemed to have softened some, but still she was commanding. I showed her to the limo, “May I ride with you?”

“Sure it’s your money.”

We chatted on the way home, this seemed to be a great victory. She had a sufficiency of good wines were inside of her, and giggled when she said, “I did wonder if you were Antjie Somers.” My name is Somers, but definitely not Antjie.

“Who?”

“Your Mom never threatened you with him?” This was a strange statement, considering that Antjie was a lady’s name.

“No, I’ve never heard of him.”

“If I were bad, she’d threaten me, ‘Be good, or Antjie Somers will get you.’ Kinda like the Boogie Man.” I looked none the wiser. “He’s the ghost of the last Dutch executioner from about your time, he killed himself after the British took over. He dresses in women’s clothing and preys on bad children.” She giggled again. I’ve heard children threatened with some strange things, but this might be the strangest.

I tried to add something to the conversation. “I can imagine, the Dutch method of execution would frighten the children, you really don’t want to know about that, it’s the most barbarous thing I’ve ever seen. Hanging was a great mercy in comparison, that was the only thing the British changed.”

“The slave owner is talking of barbarities.” Maria’s mood had darkened some.

Before I could reply, we were interrupted by arriving at the apartments, “I could escort you home, or you could accompany me to my apartment. I have coffee, or a nightcap.”

“You live here?”

“Yes, the top floor.”

“Oh.” that seemed to cause some thought. “Just show me up, Antjie.” She giggled some more.

I offered her my elbow, and she accepted. Another victory. “I used to live in your apartment, thought it is the other Stephen who remodeled it.”

“Well if you ever meet him, tell him he did a good job.”

I showed her up to her apartment, not much more was said. She knew how to contact me if she wanted, I hoped she wanted. I hardly slept that night.

—

The next day I anxiously awaited any communication from Maria. Nothing. Nothing. Then, “Hey Antjie, I talked to Amy, she recommends you highly. Lets try this your way.”

I think, I hoped, she had agreed to submit to me. An unexpected turn of events, if she’d asked I would have submitted myself to her. I sent a reply, “You will present yourself to me at seven this evening.” I debated admonishing her about calling me “Antjie”, but I hoped it would pass with drawing attention to it.

“OK, see you at seven.” Hardly acknowledging my superiority, but that detail seemed unimportant. She was coming to see me this evening. I could hardly concentrate on anything that day.

At 7:08 I was still waiting anxiously, when James announced, “Dr Maria, sir.”

I jumped up and sprinted over to her, I took her hand, bowed and kissed the hand. Turning to James, I said, “Thank you James, that will be all for the night.” Then to Maria, “Welcome Maria,” I had received permission to call her Maria the previous evening. “Would you care for a drink?”

“Err, yes.” She seemed uncertain.

“What would you like?”

“Well, I was expecting you to tell me, in fact I’m a little surprised you offered me a drink. From what Amy told me, I expected to have lost my panties by now.” At least that confirmed her expectations for the evening, but she was surprised by my different humour today.

I thought to give her what she wanted, even as I felt like melting and worshiping very the ground on which she stood. I tried to assume a stern aspect, “I will use you as I see fit. Today, I am relaxed. However, I don’t want to disappoint you, remove your drawers! We shall enjoy some Kir Royal.” I turned my back on her and walked over to the kitchen.

I looked back and she was standing confused. “Well, take them off!” I commanded sharply. She reached for her skirt as I looked in the fridge and retrieved the bottles. I placed them on the breakfast bar and looked for the glassware. “Approach!” I placed the glasses on the counter, she stood by meekly. “Show me.” She proffered me a pair of lacy purple drawers. They would have looked very pleasant on her, I’d missed my chance though. “No under the skirt.”

She raised her skirt, the skirt was somewhat dowdy, she was dressed in subfusc as befitted an academic. I presumed she had come directly from her work. However there was nothing dowdy about the treasure under her skirt. Her white hose only came up to her thighs, not covering anything, only framing and accentuating her treasures. I reached down to feel her treasure, she widened her stance, and my fingers slipped into a warm wet welcome. “My you are eager, are you not.” She did not answer, but gasped and shivered. She was reaching her climax already.

Quickly regaining some sense, she was downcast and said, “I’m sorry, I should not have come without your permission.”

She was used to dominance games where orgasms were tokens of power. I did not care to play such games. “You have my permission to come as often as you please.”

“Thank you.” Still not meeting my gaze though.

“Look at me, smile, you’re supposed to enjoy this.” There was a hesitant smile, it seemed like an unfamiliar visitor. I picked up the bottle of champagne, I showed her the label, “This is almost too good to adulterate, but only the best for you.” I set about opening the bottle and casually enquired, “How often can you orgasm before you are satisfied?” There was a surprised exclamation from Maria, I think she was about to object to the question. I looked at her as sternly as possible and stared.

She backed down, “Err, quite a lot. It’s erm, quite easy for me.” She seemed embarrassed by the direct questioning. I tried not to show my uncertainty, I wanted to drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness for upsetting her.

“Good, that will make it better for both of us.” The bottle opened, sighing appropriately. I poured some cassis in a glass and topped it off with the champagne. “Try some of this.” I handed her the glass with its purple contents.

She took a sip, “Mmm, that’s good, what is it?”

“Did I say you could speak?” Still trying to play the stern master. I took the glass from her, and set it down on the counter. I poured my own drink and sat on one of the bar stool and took a sip. It was indeed a good drink. I looked at Maria, “Take that off.” Indicating her white shift. She unbuttoned it and slipped it off her shoulders. I indicated the counter and she put it down there. “And that.” I indicated her very severe brassiere, that came off and her breasts sprung free. They were quite a magnificent sight when set free.

“You should not bind yourself so, you are quite magnificent when set free. Approach.” I think she may have blushed at the compliment. She stood next to me, I took pleasure in her breasts. “Drink up.” She tried to take her drink while I was occupied. I topped up our glasses, then got up and walked over to the sofa by the windows. “Follow.” She followed behind me.

I sat, and she stood in front of me. She met my gaze and did smile, a most endearing smile, my heart melted again. Steeling myself I raised my glass, she did the same, and we took a sip. “Now that.” I indicated her skirt. She unzipped and stepped out of it, setting it on the arm of the sofa as indicated. I contemplated her body, it was very full and womanly. I considered how to proceed. Again I set aside the urge to worship her. I unzipped myself, “Kneel.”

She set her glass down on the coffee table and knelt. She did the obvious thing and took me into her mouth. She was very talented in that direction. This was supposed to be just for appearances sake, an appearance of dominance, but her talents prompted me to reconsider. I allowed myself to enjoy her ministrations, but soon I was in danger of coming to a conclusion, so I rested my hand on her head to stop her. She continued to kneel. I took a final sip and set my glass down.

“Very good, you are very talented.” I think she blushed again, I patted the couch beside me she sat down. I got up, took her glass and handed it to her, “Don’t spill any.” Knelt in front of her, and motioned her forward, she perched on the edge of the couch. I spread her legs and dived into her womanly charms.

There was already no doubt she was aroused after her performance earlier, my position just confirmed that. Almost immediately she reached another climax. She was not jesting about her ease with this. I continued with my most pleasant labour and she was soon reaching another climax. She hardly calmed down at all before she was reaching for new heights. She became most vocal, she writhed and danced, then she was still.

I stood up and calmly removed my clothes, stacking them neatly on the arm chair. I was pleased to note her glass was empty, and she had not spilled any. She was coming to her senses, so I dove between her legs and penetrated her. I thrust vigorously and she started moaning again, she warmed up very quickly and again reached a climax. Impressively quick considering our previous exercises.

Again she was reaching a plateau of excitement as I thrust into her. Our gazes met, my heart melted, my manhood said his piece and Maria reached her most violent climax yet. I collapsed in a spent heap at her feet. Fearing this position was not good for my masterful persona I summoned up enough effort to gain a seat on the couch. There I resumed being a spent heap.

Maria was first to regain her senses. She moved over to hug me, she looked up at me, again my heart melted as our gazes met. I felt dizzy, I felt ill, I felt … happy. She spoke, “O Wow! Amy wasn’t kidding, I’m going to kill her for keeping you to herself all these years.”

My spirit soared to new heights that I had pleased her. I tried not to show it, I again tried to look stern. “Did I say you could speak?” She looked at me unimpressed. “Please fetch me another glass.” Still she looked at me impassively.

She stretched languidly, “Go get it yourself, Antjie.” She was not showing the proper respect. As much as I wanted to please her, to serve her, she should not be allowed to act so. I got up, taking both of our glasses to the kitchen. I poured myself a drink, leaving the other glass empty. I cast about the kitchen, I found a sturdy plastic spatula. ‘He that spareth his rod hateth his son’, or daughter in this case, I did not hate her.

Getting back to the couch, I set my drink down. I used my sternest countenance, “You young lady, need to learn some respect and manners.” I slapped my hand with the spatula.

“What?”

I sat down next to her. “I am going to teach you respect. Lay here.” I indicated she should lay over my lap.

“No.” I hooked her under her arm and pulled her over my lap. “Stop that, Ow!” I brought the spatula down on her most appealing, shapely, bum. I hit her again, she protested again. I hit her several times more, her protestations quieted, and she moaned. A moan of passion. This development surprised me, I stopped. “Mooore.” She pleaded. Confused, I felt the area I was previously assaulting, it was warm after my ministrations. Her legs were open, I passed by her womanly area and she shivered. I pressed home on her button, she exploded.

I let her rest. She spoke, her voice matched her languid posture, “If I promise to be very good, will you do that again?”

Still stern, I admonished her, “I shall think on it, if you cease referring to me as Antjie. You should contemplate you rude behavior.”

—

Now what do I do? After last night, Maria wants me to flagellate her again. This is really not to my taste, but I want to please her as best I can. I will visit her this night, she says her playroom is well equipped with implements of flagellation.

She wants me to show her what it means to be a slave. This is not something I am qualified for, I left the slaves to the overseers. She wants me to abuse her, that is not something I would let an overseer do, a slave is a valuable position. I shall attempt to assume the persona of the worst sort of overseer, such as I would not employ. I hope I can play the part to her satisfaction, I do want to please Maria.

I will visit Maria this night, but I don’t know if I will still be myself. I am sure that it is very soon that I will return home. I have made arrangements to welcome Stephen back. I had hoped to finish this account, but I have hardly been able to think today, I must off to see Maria.

—

Afterword.

That is where Stephen’s account ends, rather abruptly.

I presume he would have fleshed out the accounts had he not been correct and we did swap consciousnesses back into our respective bodies that Friday. I am the other Stephen he was referring to, home at last. All is not as it should be though, Maria, Louisa and Hanna all came with me, so there are two Marias, Louisas and Hannas stranded in the wrong time period. There’s more of that story in “Back in Time.”

The story above is all Stephen’s own words. I edited together various of his writing to make the story coherent, though it really needs a better, less abrupt, ending.

BTW: I’d never heard of Antjie Somers either, I had to look him up. It’s a Cape Town thing, my Mum was from the Eastern Cape.

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