Let the Wrong One In

She woke up the next morning, still grinning, and stretched catlike as she turned to face him. He lay there, watching her, drinking in her body next to him. He looked tired, the dear, whatever could be the reason? She had slept the sleep of the blissfully fucked, rosy memories and that delightful sensation of exquisite climaxes.

"Did you sleep well," she asked, propping herself up on one elbow.

"Did I sleep, period?" he said, groaning as he rolled over to kiss her.

"Does it so wear a man out to...fuck, like that?"

"The first time, no. The next three or four..."

"We fucked that many times? I feel so contented."

"We ran the whole Kama Sutra, Hypatia...doggy style, cowgirl, standing up, from behind..." he ticked off on his fingers, "oral, even anal...you're going to kill me! But what a way to go."

"I remember now. It was so intoxicating! If you're up to it..." she slyly let her hand fondle the angry-colored limp cock.

"Ohh...give me a little time, I think it'll snap off if I do it any time soon. I can barely move..."

She grinned, already seeing a slight movement, a twitch that had her considering. "I think your body lies, Jon. See, I know him better than you do."

"I can't move," he repeated. "I'm, what did you call it? Knackered." Still, he didn't push her hand away. She stroked with growing confidence, this, at least, she knew what to do. She remembered putting it in her mouth, feeling wanton as he told her what to do. Rewarded by a stiffening, she chuckled to herself. It really was a work of art, and so responsive to a knowing hand. And the taste wasn't that bad.

Opening her mouth, she kissed the tip, as she heard him moan. She felt sexual power, the ability to take his body, and please him so directly, that her own sex started getting moist. He'd mentioned something...

"Jon, what was that number you brought up last night?"

"Sixty-nine. I think I could do that. Swing over here, and I'll have you for breakfast." She giggled, and move her legs over him, lowering herself down until his tongue started playing over her. That set her off, intensifying her desire to make him explode in her mouth. I couldn't imagine doing this before, the idea was repulsive, she thought. Now I can't wait.

Careful not to bite, she wove intricate patterns over the hot flesh, relishing the hardness. Down below, her pussy, yes, that was what he called it, throbbed to the ministrations of his tongue. She bobbed up and down, licking the secret places that made him lose control. He'd pronounced her first attempts as promising, not knowing she was experimenting, looking for the way to make him lose control. She wasn't an expert yet, but she'd get plenty of practice in the future.

Sloppy liquid sounds from his mouth and her sex was exciting in its own way. For every pleasure she gave him, he repaid her, lick for juicy lick. Getting closer, she tried to take more and more of him to the back of her throat. She couldn't get it all the way down, but not for lack of trying. Already she could taste a slippery fluid, eager to have more, she tongued his slit, rewarded by even more.

Poor Jon behind her must be drowning by now. Part of her wanted to leap up, reverse places, and plunge him deep inside. If she could only have both at the same time...already she was rocking back in forth on him, threatening to cut off his air, as he pushed upward against her, clearly ready to spend...come, that's what they called it here. Give me your come, Jon, she wished as her own body distracted her, come now, or I won't be able to...

She grabbed the sheets, holding herself steady as the hardness in her mouth swelled, and his essence filled her mouth. She swallowed hungrily, showing him no fear, only desire. Spots swam before her eyes as she climaxed herself, gulping and shuddering, as she screamed in ecstasy around the spurting organ in her mouth. Exhausted by the ordeal, she rolled over, his cock popping as it left her suctioning mouth. She lay on her back, panting from the exertion.

"I think I need to rest. Three or four times? How did you convince me?"

Laughing from near her knees, she heard the matters shift as he twisted to get next to her.

"Convince? I think it was the other way around."

"Indeed?"

"You were quite insistent, as I recall. You may have been a virgin, but you're much more experienced now." Darting a glance at the alarm, he groaned. "Two hours, and then I have to get up for work."

"Can I do something for you? Make you breakfast? Lay out your clothes? Anything?"

All of the accidents someone unfamiliar with his technology could do flew through his brain. He imagined her trying to scrub the Teflon off his cookware. Patting her scrumptious ass, he started to pull her to him. "No, not necessary. I work from home, now. The cable guys' already set up my connections. Let me hold you, if you can control your raging hormones."

"My what? Jonathan Williams, you take that back!"

"What? Hormones...bodily fluids that influence your moods and attitude. It's a biological term...remind me when I wake up, and I'll introduce you to the Internet."

"The what?"

"Nearly everything known, right at your fingertips. Should keep you occupied for a while. Please, you're going to make me waste away...no, leave that alone!"

She giggled as she let it go, it was truly done for, flaccid and cute, but not much use. "Very well. I..." she considered telling him how she felt, but not now, not this soon. Two strong arms encircled her, while the rest of his body kept her warm. For the tenth time, she wondered where a blanket might be found. Never mind, she was almost asleep...

The most horrible noise in the world is an alarm clock, particularly when one is nestled up with someone very warm, and very dear. Hypatia was on her feet, halfway across the room, before she realized that Jon was reaching for the clock, slamming something on top of it, and making the trump of doom cease.

"My word! How wretched! And that's what gets you up in the morning?"

"They don't have alarm clocks in your world?" He looked her over, pleased with what he saw.

"The servants...Jon, do you have servants?" The idea of keeping a household alone puzzled her.

"Eh, I practically am a servant, the way they treat us at work," he groused. "Do they still have servants in London? You must be pretty rich, then."

"What else would you do? How could one person do all the washing, cleaning, pressing, all the necessaries for civilized life?"

"Hmm...remind me to give you a tour of the kitchen and the laundry room. Right now, I'm hungry. Want some breakfast?"

A rumble in her stomach gave her the answer to that question. "May I help?"

"Mainly by going through the boxes with me; I've barely started unpacking. Tell you what, I've still got some severance, how about I take you out for breakfast?"

"Do you do anything at home? Well, I haven't fresh clothes to wear, and I must look a fright. I can start the hot water machine, and we can bathe."

"How water machine? Never heard it called that, but it's already on. Let's get a bath, or maybe a shower. I think you can use some of the..." his face frowned.

"Is something the matter?"

"Well..." he looked guilty, like a schoolboy caught, "Karen left a bunch of stuff behind, feminine things. I was going to throw them out, but if you want to use them. Lotions, shampoo, all that kind of thing." He waved at the bathroom door.

"I...well, I might need some help with unfamiliar things. Heaven knows what kind of tub you have..." her eyes opened in surprise. "Why this is almost big enough for two people, if they were very familiar with each other..."

"And they say men have a one-track mind," he said, shaking his head. "Here, let's get your clothes in the washing machine, and maybe we can pick you up some new things at the mall."

In the living room, a cloud was forming, blue light shining in radiant shafts over the piles of boxes and disarranged furniture. A small machine landed on the carpet, camera circling, while the effect faded out. The signal ended here. It had been given an order; find the breach, then report. It ignored the laughing and splashing around the corner, and concentrated on collecting data.

"I never realized how long a morning could be. The washing machine shows potential, we have something like it, but not so...intelligent. And the dryer, it seems so obvious. Why we don't have something like this..."

"It came with the apartment. It's actually an old model, from the looks of it. I've never seen someone be impressed by a washing machine before. It just runs on electricity."

"I've never seen my clothes ready to wear in less than a day. I hope this mall has something in my size."

"I'm pretty sure they will; something tells me you've never seen anything like a mall. Some women spend the entire day there, shopping."

"Sounds interesting, but there's more to life than shopping."

"And you're still single...I never thought I'd hear a woman say that."

"That there's more to life than shopping? Good heavens, servants do it half the time for you. The rest come to you for fittings, or deliveries, it's something we don't deal with all that often."

"Well, there's a mall just behind the eatery. Not sure if they have what you usually have, pickled kippers, or bacon rashers, or marmalade...or whatever they eat."

"Do they have tea?"

"That they do. Not sure if it's as fancy as you like, but ..." a ding sounded behind them, "that's your dress. Let's see how it did."

"Then that's where we'll start, with tea. It's what makes the British Empire possible."

"Jon, I feel naked, positively naked." Full of an interesting breakfast, a few stores' worth of clothing, she wore what everyone else was wearing. Women didn't give her a second glance, although most of the men did.

"Those boys are staring at me!" she whispered crossly.

"I don't blame them a bit. Who knew you'd clean up as nicely as you did?"

She glared at him, until she realized he was teasing. "And this...bra thing; my breasts are constantly in motion! Even a common prostitute has more dignified clothing than this!"

"I like it. You've got it baby, why not flaunt it?"

"A proper lady doesn't flaunt her charms to total strangers. Why aren't any of the ladies wearing...oh my heavens!" An attractive woman in a summer top and shorts strolled by on pumps, oblivious to Hypatia's outrage. "Was that an actual soiled dove? Are we on the proper side of your city? Where have you taken me?"

"Is anyone complaining about what you're wearing? Are any of the women pointing or laughing? You blend in here, dressed like that. Your clothes are clean, and you can be out in the world without explaining the goggles or the fedora. I thought a fedora was a guy hat."

"Actually, women have worn them for over a century. Some men wear them, but fashions change so much more slowly at home. I just, I've never felt so exposed before. And that woman going on about shaving my legs, and my sex..."

"Be thankful I didn't take you to a beachwear shop. If you saw a bikini, your head might explode." Seeing her hurt expression, he held her shoulders. "Look, I know this is a strange place to you. I can't begin to imagine what would happen if I showed up in casual wear in your world."

"You'd be arrested for indecent exposure, after the laughter died out."

"I deserved that," he whispered to himself, "Jon, don't fuck this one up." Looking her in the eyes, he kissed her cheek. "If you're uncomfortable, I can take you home. I have some things I need to do anyway. Want to go back?"

She blushed, but nodded. "Your house looks like a sty, and needs a woman's touch. You tell me how things work, and I shall endeavor to put them to good use. I've been a burden on your hospitality, I feel I should make amends."

He gave her a look. "You've given me a lot more than you know. You're a scientist, I should show you the web, while I finish up a few pages for the site. I think you'll be pleased."

Inside the car, she still looked at all the people filing in and out of the huge building. It was hard to discern who was a servant or not, but in this world, they evidently were quite rare. Passing a spot on the side of the road, she saw a dozen girls washing cars for a charity event. Her jaw dropped as she saw how little they were wearing.

"Oh lord, what are they wearing?"

"Bikinis. What girls wear at the beach."

"Why, they're worse than naked! And hardly of the age to be introduced to society. I know I'm definitely in another world now. And those boys..."

"Uh huh, thought you'd notice. Just hope you want to still dance with the one that brung ya."

"What? I swear we're two people separated by a common language sometimes."

"Churchill."

"Who? No, Shaw!"

"Whatever..." he pointed. "Look, we're back."

Climbing the steps, he valiantly grabbed her purchases, and they went up the back (breaking) steps, he'd forever call them, after lifting a life's worth of furniture and possessions on them. He got out the keys, and started to open.

"Shit, I must have unlocked them on the way out. I hope nothing's..." They stepped into the hallway, and looked into the room.

The boxes had been opened, things strewn everywhere; clothes CDs, knickknacks and chotchkes, it sounded like whoever was robbing the place hadn't finished. And over by his computers, stood a woman, avidly watching the screens, while a small robotic spider plugged into the side, doing something.

"What the fuck are you doing in here? And what are you doing to my computer?" He started forward to confront the intruder, but she absently said, "Ah, English. Defend." The robot disengaged, and pointed at him. He slowed down, and something hit him. He didn't see anything, or feel anything, but his legs wouldn't move. Behind him, he heard all the bags hit the floor at the same time.

"You! You...bitch! What have you done to him?" The amount of hatred in the voice startled him. He couldn't move, but he saw her fly past him, arms forward, nails clenched, and ready to do some unladylike things to their attacker. She glanced up, and pointed, and soon she stood a few paces in front of him, still trying to tear the other limb from limb.

"Miss Bowdler, I can't conceive of the perfidity of this! Not content with stealing my intended away in one universe, you aim to do it again?"

"Who? Ah, there must be a doppelganger in this one. I'm no Miss Bowdler, woman. I'm Rena Bodellia, Decurion of the Conquest Band, of the Multiplanar Empire of Rome, and I claim this planet in the name of the Empire."

"Bullshit. One woman with a couple of magic tricks isn't going to conquer us." He felt guilty, realizing he could still talk.

"You must be the Williams, or Williams, however your language works, I'm still assimilating it. Not a bad little world, fairly advanced, just on the cusp of the age of nanotech. In another fifty years, you might pose a challenge, but not right now. Not too helpful on the resource front, your industries are consuming them fairly efficiently, but the population...by Zeus you've gone to seed. Soldiers, I think, will be your contribution to the Empire. Maybe slaves, though they're not as profitable as they used to be. Now pretty tits over there, she'd fetch a few aurum on the market."

"We've got enough wars going already, go fight your own," he said hotly. Who was this lunatic? She stood up, some militaristic black leather jumpsuit studded with pockets and buttons, no obvious weapons, but then he was stuck here, wasn't he?

"You show some potential; nice bod, could use a couple of improvements. You know," she said silkily, moving towards him, "I could claim the right of first subjugation, right here in front of your mate. She could watch. I bet I could teach her some things, after I've finished with you."

"I should know you'd not be satisfied with humiliating me back home, you'd have to come here to plague me." Jon wished he could see her expression, but she faced away from him.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Must be another doppelganger. I've never seen this plane before, but having discovered it, I'm going to be rich, rich rich!" she laughed."The bonus for an undiscovered plane will cancel all my debts, and you get a private audience with the Emperor himself!" She frowned, looking at Hypatia.

"Wait a deccan, your readings are off. You're not...no, you're not from this plane either! Two planes in one day! Two worlds to conquer. No one's done that in a century or more." She stood in front of Hypatia, leering at her. "Tell me where your world is, and I might just let you keep him," she bargained.

"I don't know," Hypatia said, crossly, "and if I did, I assure you you'd be facing a world united against slavery! But if you want the other Jonathan, you're welcome to him...wait, you already have him, Mrs. Bowdler. Your husband must be turning in his grave."

"Me, a husband? Heh, you know, you're right. For this, I could get a boon from the Emperor, but that would mean giving up planes walking, and I'm having too much fun for that. And who needs a husband when you've got hot and cold running studs waiting at home?"

She gestured towards Jon. "Let's show you what you could be having." Jon got a sudden, sinking feeling this was not going to turn out well. He watched her approach him, hungrily eyeing him up and down.

"Now, let's get these clothes off, and I'll show you what we can do with a man." She commanded the robot spider with a language that sounded faintly familiar, like old Catholic services, or legal proceedings. Hypatia swung around, facing him, struggling against whatever it was that held them fast.

"You won't get away with this," he threatened, helpless but still defiant.

"Already have, Jonathun. You'll do whatever I like, whether you like it or not. I've filled the both of you with nannites, they're blocking your nervous systems from firing, that's why you're frozen like that. They can move you any way I want. And I can stimulate you in ways you can't imagine."

"Jonathan, lady. Don't do this in front of her...please." he begged.

"Why not? I want to see the betrayal reflected in her eyes as I have you. I want her to see you pleasured in ways she could never match, the total humiliation as I make you mine. You don't understand dominance at all. Say good bye to pretty tits, she's lost to you forever."

"Fuck you."

She laughed. "Direct, and to the point, just the way I like it. By the way, I can induce pain instead of pleasure, so no heroics, or you'll feel like you've been dipped in lava. I own you, slave.'

"I'm nobody's slave, bitch." Anger and fear were all he had left.

"You keep saying that. I want to break you, slowly. You're just another in a long string of men and near-men I've broken over the years. That's what makes it such fun."

Near-men? What a perv, can't even keep it in her own species. He told her, as she laughed again.

"Ah, some places didn't evolve men, but they came close. What's a pointed ear or two, when you're really going at it?" She undid the belt buckle, and experimented with the zipper. "Kinky. Haven't seen one of these at home, except in museums."

She pulled his pants and underwear down, looking attentively at his crotch. "Nice, if a little on the small size. Let's fix that."

Another command in that strange tongue, and his cock started heating up. A pressure started building in the shaft and balls, which started swelling, hanging farther downwards, thickening, veins becoming more prominent. He couldn't see because he couldn't move his head. He could see Hypatia's eyes, worried and cautious, a cold fury in them directed at the woman below.

"Now, that's more like it. Hmm, tum needs a six-pack, and some more muscle in the shoulders..."

The heat spread to his body, and he felt the mother of all stomach cramps as fat turned to muscle. If he could move, he'd be doubled over in pain, but fortunately, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Still, the pain was intense; she was pushing it to change faster than normal, it felt like he was being beaten.