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 Joanna in Time - 1963

   The three Joanna stories were written when I was feeling feminine and
Joanna-ish, which happens quite frequently.  They are extensions to the
Billy in time series.

   I trudged out of the lecture hall on a dismal November afternoon feeling
like something the cat had just refused to drag in.  I was down to my last
two Pounds to keep myself for a week, the washing was piled high in the
bathroom, my bag was packed sold with homework projects, and my hair needed
washing.  I started walking towards home, half a mile in the miserable rain
when a scruffy little saloon pulled up beside me and a face peered out of
the half open window, "Let me offer you a lift he," called out, "You look a
touch damp." I nodded and mumbled "Thanks, I could use that." Clambering
in, I tossed my bag in the back.  "Your William aren't you?  I've seen you
in the canteen." "That's me." He smiled and his plain looking face took on
a much better appearance.  I wouldn't call him much of a looker, but he
wasn't going to put me off getting a lift home in the rain.  "You're Joanna
aren't you?  Or do you prefer Jo?" "I don't mind.  I'm the next street on
the left." As we eased into the kerb I thought it would be mean not to show
some appreciation so I offered him a cup of coffee.  He accepted with
alacrity, so before either of us made any decisions we were sitting on my
well worn settee sipping hot coffee and I was trying to dry off my short
dark hair with a tiny hand towel.  We exchanged reminiscences about how we
were doing this year and it seemed that he had some part time work for
Professor Beacon in the History faculty.  It seemed to pay well and it
crossed my mind that I just might be able to get an intro if there were any
more hours going.  I didn't broach it then but tucked the idea away for
future reference.  I lit the gas fire and we snuggled up for warmth which
inevitably turned into an almost casual pass as he slid one hand under my
sweater any gently massaged my breast.  As I more readily grew to accept
his approach I responded to his kiss, then played with his ears and allowed
myself to drift into a haze of comfort.  "Look, I don't know how to put
this," he started to say, "I don't want you to take it the wrong way, but
tonight I am completely knackered and I'm not really up to doing you
justice.  I didn't get more than an hours sleep last night and it's
catching up with me." "The one thing I do have is nice big comfortable bed.
You're welcome to a share to save you from that downpour out there.  I've
even get some pajamas somewhere." "You don't know how good that sounds," he
almost croaked, "I'll make it up to you later, I promise." Early the next
morning we were still spooned together for comfort when I felt his hands
stroking me softly all over.  I was feeling in the mood, having recovered
from my earlier depression, so I reached behind my hips and slid my hand
into the front of his shorts.  (he had refused my offer of night attire).
He was already fully erect and eager to take things further, so I rolled
over and slid out of my frilly little teddy.  First his hands, then his
lips explored my breasts and rapidly hardening nipples, then his fingers
fell to my hips and he pushed me over onto my back.  I could feel the
passion rising through my belly as he probed my pussy lips apart and
stroked his tongue up and down my tender exposed girlie flesh.  He then
concentrated on my rapidly hardening clitoris and with quick flicking
actions he had me quivering on the point of a climax in less than twenty
seconds.  "No, not yet," I gasped, "Let's make it last a bit longer, why
don't you turn over and I'll give you a rest." I had never tried Fellatio
before but had often wondered what it would be like, usually when I was hot
and bubbling in the final stages of masturbation.  This was going to be my
introduction to the full act since I was now primed and keen.  I took the
head of his cock between my fingers and carefully pressed it down, watching
in fascination as the foreskin rolled back to expose the bright red organ
beneath.  The aroma filled my nostrils as I touched the very tip with my
tongue, relishing the excitement of my first venture in this activity.  He
gasped as I opened my mouth wide and slid it carefully over the length of
his throbbing organ, not stopping until I felt it tickle the back of my
throat.  Easing back until I just had the head between my lips I licked the
underside enthusiastically feeling the sensitive focal point of his
erection quiver gently.  I must admit that I got carried away at this point
and decided to give him the best ejaculation ever, so I worked my lips up
and down his prick as fast as I could, slashing my tongue from side to side
on the underside of the throbbing organ.  The final act that sent him over
the edge was when I rubbed my fingers over his scrotum and squeezed his
balls.  That did it.  His hips jerked upwards despite his efforts to
control them and I felt his spunk rising up the length of his penis. 
Determined to miss nothing I clamped my lips tight around the head of his
organ and swallowed frantically as my mouth filled to the brim with his hot
pulsing sperm.  The excitement of the moment made my thighs twitch in
sympathy and I had I violent climax myself long before his erection
subsided.  "Bloody hell, what are you doing down there?  I've never felt
anything like that before.  You must have had a hell of a lot of practice
to pull a trick like that." I found that I was blushing furiously so I
buried my face in his belly and mumbled, "Not really, I just seem to
empathise with peoples feelings pretty well, so I know what you are
feeling. It is the first time I have tried that.  Was it really that good?"
"Bloody marvelous," Billy replied, "Look, you seem a pretty well with-it
sort of girl, would you be interested in doing some historical
investigations with me?  It sounds really far out when you start but you
soon get used to the idea." "What's it all about?" I queried, "Does it pay
well, what are the hours, look, why don't you just lay it all out for me."
"I think the best idea is if you come down to the Prof's study one evening
and let him tell you about it.  It's his project and he might not want you
in it.  It just feels right to me." I thought it over carefully for one and
a half seconds then offered, "Right, how about tonight?" Being an
adventurous sort of lass I was taken on right away and primed for the next
event in the historian's experiments concerning Temporal Translations as
they were called.  The explanations were extensive and I tried to follow
the layman's version of how Prof had managed to record a subjects brain
pattern, and lay it over another person's libido from another time and
location.  The general gist of the current project was based on one of
their preoccupations that the assassination of Robert Kennedy did untold
damage to the space exploration plans.  They were quite sure that we could
somehow change history by saving the Presidents life, possibly by me being
inserted into the ego of the first lady, it would be up to me to carry it
out by having the fore-knowledge of the attack.  I honestly was not
convinced but I promised to give it my best shot.  Almost as an
afterthought they suggested that one of the Senators, a Charlie Spicer from
the same area was suspected of being a pedophile, so if I had some spare
time it might be a moral gesture to check him out, assuming it fitted in
with my activities.  After going through the same preparations that William
had received previously, I was given a final set of instructions including
not to lose control of any situation, never endanger my host body, and
remember that I would automatically be returned in exactly twenty four
hours.  I woke the following morning feeling strangely relaxed, but as I
tried to stretch out, I suddenly realised that I was not alone in this huge
King sized bed.  A soft masculine hand slid down over my hip and gently
stroked my right thigh, almost immediately followed by the squirming
fingers insinuating themselves between my legs.  My first thought was for
time out, so I whispered softly, "Hang on a moment, I need the can." I only
then realised that the words sounded wrong - I never have used American
expressions like that but they sounded fine for the situation.  I found the
bathroom, flipped on the lights, and had a good look in the mirror over the
basin.  It was unbelievable; there was no question that I was Jacqueline
Kennedy down to the fine wrinkles around the eyes.  Pulling open the satin
nightgown I cast a critical eye over the body in which I found myself. 
Good flat belly I was pleased to see, there must have been some working out
to hold that after several children, and no stretch marks.  The boobs were
pretty good too; a lot larger than I was accustomed to, but very little
sagging and gorgeous large dark nipples.  Just out of curiosity I lifted
myself up onto my toes and bounced several times down onto my heels just
for the sensation of feeling my breasts shake about, it was delicious.  It
occurred to me that I could have fun in a shape like this, and I had the
authority to go with it.  I strolled back into the bedroom after flushing
the toilet and stood beside the bed to study the other occupant.  Sure
enough it was the great J.F.  himself, tousled haired, rippling muscles,
and still half asleep.  "Get that sweet little ass in here kiddo." He
mumbled and pulled open the sheets, "I feel in need of some hot fucking
about now, what do you say?" The glimpse I had of his mighty cock pushing
up out of a thick patch of pubic hair set me up immediately so I tossed off
my nightgown and slid beneath the sheets.  After a quick cuddle I was
pushed towards the head of the bed and rolled onto my knees.  "Give me a
long slow taste of your pretty little fanny," he begged, "It's been too
long between drinks for that spot of fun." Then he slid his face in between
my thighs, grasped my hips firmly, and pushed his eager tongue deep into my
rapidly moistening vagina.  He was obviously very experienced in this area
since he had me bordering on a climax in seconds, and however hard I
struggled he kept on working my pussy.  "Please, put it in me.  I need to
feel you filling me.  I can't hold on much longer." He paused just long
enough to say, "Go on then, let her rip.  We have plenty of time for more."
Then he was back teasing my throbbing cunt lips, flicking over my hot
little clit, pushing into the depths of my vagina, even probing the
puckered opening to my anus.  I exploded into a screaming climax that I was
sure would bring the security guards in, and continued gasping and groaning
as he pushed me towards another cascade of pleasure.  I reached behind my
bouncing rump to take his twitching cock between my fingers and frantically
masturbated him to persuade the over enthusiastic lover to give me a good
fucking, but it only pushed him to renewed heights.  I was on the point of
collapse when he finally grasped my thighs and with no apparent effort,
lifted me down to impale me onto his rigid organ.  The torrent of juices
seeping from my frantic pussy let him slide full length up my canal until
the head of his monstrous tool bottomed against my cervix, where he held on
tightly as I throbbed through yet another orgasm.  At this point I lost
track of what he was doing as he made long, slow, and deliberate strokes
into the heat of my belly, ignoring my pleadings to allow me to help.  I do
have a vague recollection between orgasmic contractions, of him dipping a
finger into the slippery liquids oozing down my thighs and gently pushing
it into the depths of my butt.  Eventually I felt the flood of hot juices
pump into my belly and the pair of us sank into a squirming oblivion of
sleep.  The bright sun awoke us some time later and I was surprised by the
fact that I felt quite comfortable in my unexpected role already and had no
trouble joining my man in the shower and preparing for breakfast.  While we
were getting ready to leave the hotel room John took a small parcel from
his bag and said conspiratorially, "This is likely to be another boring old
day for you, you know.  I have something here that'll take your mind off
the tedium.  See what you think." He pulled out what looked like a pair of
plain cotton panties wrapped around something odd, and as I shook them out
for a closer look I saw that there was a large rubber dildo stitched inside
the garment.  "You don't expect me to wear that do you, not outside in
public.  I'd curl up at the thought." "I think it would be a real kick." He
replied, "It would certainly turn me on to know that all those envious eyes
you keep getting would never guess you had a huge moist dildo pushed up
your eager little pussy.  Suppose you try it for me just today to see how
you feel." He reached around me and cupped my breasts gently.  "Pretty
please." He whispered into my ear as he rolled my nipples carefully.  I ask
you, what woman could resist that.  "O.K.  but none of your sneaky
innuendoes to the local senators then." I demanded, and slid the strange
garment on carefully pushing the huge rubber insert deep into my vagina. 
It made walking difficult at first but it wasn't long before I felt
confident that nobody would notice my slightly odd gait.  Once down in the
underground car park the bodyguards shepherded us into the back of the
massive limo and we cruised smoothly out towards the council offices where
we were expected for a formal luncheon.  While waving to the crowds lining
the route, John reached round my waist and I felt him fumble for a tiny
protrusion on the waistband of my special knickers.  When he eventually
managed to press it I was shocked to discover that the intruder tucked
inside my hot little pussy was fitted with a powerful vibrator, and I was
helpless to protect myself against the insidious titillation being
generated deep inside my sexual organs.  "Mr President, sir, I must
protest. You don't know what you are doing." I blurted out.  He laughed out
loud, "I can guess.  The look on your face is a picture.  I wonder whether
the TV cameras would pick it up." I felt myself blushing as I rushed to a
second climax with the dreadful machine showing no signs of slowing down. I
squirmed around on the leather seat trying to find a position that would
give me some relief but there wasn't one, I just had to ride with it.  It
suddenly occurred to me as we swung out of a round-about and towards an
overhead bridge why I was actually here.  Off to the right was the over
publicized Grassy Knoll and we were on the spot where the infamous
assassination took place.  I almost panicked, and shouted out to John
"Here, listen to this.  You must hear it." It was the only thing to come to
mind as I grabbed his head and heaved it down into my lap.  I was almost
too late since at that very instant a loud crack caused his right shoulder
to explode before my eyes, and in quick succession two more bullets slammed
onto the car, one hitting the back of the drivers seat and the second
finding it's mark in the senator in the passenger's seat.  The actions that
followed blurred into a haze as I ducked on top of John, one of the
bodyguards threw himself onto both of us, and the driver smashed his foot
to the floor to escape.  I managed to yell "The President's been hit."
Before we screamed round a corner and raced towards the local hospital.  In
less than two minutes we had lurched to a standstill outside the Emergency
entrance and medicos were swarming all over us, heaving John onto a gurney,
lifting the obviously dead Senator from the front seat, and pulling me
clear.  I was smothered in blood, but once I had convinced them it wasn't
mine and I was physically unhurt, they allowed me to head for the showers.
I nearly cried when I saw the state of my all time favorite little powder
blue suit, it was beyond resurrection but I managed to borrow a change of
clothes from an understanding nurse.  By the time that I had stopped
shaking, got rid of that infernal toy, and worked over my face, I was ready
to check with the surgeons.  They assured me that the Presidents injuries,
although serious, were not life threatening, and after he had slept off the
anesthetic by tomorrow morning, he would be fit for a visit as long as I
didn't worry him.  That was a laugh, me worry him under these conditions.
The one thing that elated me no end was something that nobody else would
appreciate.  I had succeeded, the course of history would now be changed,
although for better or worse we could not yet anticipate.  A couple of
tranquilisers later I decided to have a crack at the other half of my
proposed mission, that was to take care of this character who was preying
on young girls over on the other side of town.  I had a glance in a full
length mirror as I turned to leave and promised to buy that nurse a decent
outfit before we left, the clothing I had borrowed looked as if it had come
from the charity store.  Come to think about it, it would be an excellent
disguise.  After sneaking down the back stairs and out of the porter's
entrance, it was easy to call a cab and give an address one street away
from my suspect's house.  A few steps around the corner and I was
confronted by a huge old mansion, probably built soon after the civil war,
and looking as if it hadn't been painted since.  As I knocked on the front
door it swung open, so I stepped inside calling out, "Charlie, are you
home, I just wanted a quick word." The door slammed shut behind me, and as
I turned I caught my first glimpse of this rogue character who was causing
so much trouble.  He was huge, at least six feet eight tall and had muscles
in places other men didn't even have places.  He stood eyeing me up and
down, with his hands on his hips, and finally spoke.  "I can't believe it.
Is it really you Jacqueline?  You can't imagine how much I am pleased to
see you.  My buddies are never going to believe it." "This is an off the
record visit you know Charlie.  I have just been asked to have a word in
your ear about these rumors that are going around.  I don't know how to put
it.  Have you really been associating with these young girls or is it just
ugly stories?" "Oh no, I have had a few friends down here.  Perhaps I'd
better tell you about us.  Have a seat while we chat." We sat around a
coffee table and he passed over a beer that I sipped nervously.  "It's like
this," He continued, "Three others and myself have this sort of club going,
we collect pictures and films of various people and exchange them.  We each
have our idea of a perfect entertainment and we try to score as close as
possible to the best scenario.  Mine for example is Marilyn Monroe, and if
I ever had the chance to get her, or somebody just like her downstairs for
a few hours, you can't imagine what I would do with that gorgeous soft
white body." I sat in stunned silence at his horrific tales as he
continued. "Bill in Atlanta on the other hand invariably fantasizes about
you.  He thinks it would be heaven on earth to take you down a peg from
your highbrow set and see what you are like as a woman.  I'm going to see
what I can do to satisfy him, with the aid of a camera of course." By now I
was becoming more terrified by the minute as it occurred to me that as an
interloper just using Jacqueline's persona I could not pass this situation
onto my unwilling host as I always anticipated, but would have to handle
the situation myself.  My first thought was to run.  I eased myself to my
feet and started edging towards the door saying, "Well, perhaps some other
time you can tell me about it." "You are joking," he replied, " There is no
way you're getting out of here like that." And to prove his point he sprung
over the low table, pushed me against the wall and grabbed both of my
wrists in one hand.  I had guessed that he would be strong but never to
this level, I was completely helpless as he fastened two leather straps
joined together with a short chain, around my wrists.  Without seeming to
exert himself he dragged me through the back door and down a flight of
steps into what had once been a wine cellar.  "Now, where shall we start?
Perhaps with a little lift, hey.  I think this will keep you out of
mischief." Which was demonstrated by his hooking my chain onto a rope
hanging from the rafters and hauling me up until my arms were stretched
above my head.  He then pulled a heavy four-foot length of timber over to
my position and proceeded to strap my ankles to holes bored in each end. 
As he pulled them tight my feet were dragged so wide apart that I was
lifted from the ground and totally helpless.  Needless to say I was
petrified with fear and could only resort to begging him to release me.  He
even stifled this move by forcing a large rubber ball gag into my mouth and
strapped it securely in place.  His next move was obvious but even more
fearful for what it anticipated.  He took a huge knife from a bench off too
one side and proceeded to cut and tear every scrap of clothing from my
defenseless body.  "Ah yes," he chuckled to himself, "Every bit as
succulent as I expected.  I'll bet you can get any man to do whatever you
want if you flash these gorgeous boobs, can't you?" He demonstrated by
slapping both of my naked breasts hard, leaving red marks from his fingers
under them, then tormented them further by pinching each nipple and
bouncing them up and down vigorously.  I could do nothing but twist my head
back and forth and make helpless little groans in the back of my throat. 
He left me for a few minutes while he set up a movie camera directly in
front of my bound position and started it running.  He unbuckled his jeans,
hooked his fingers under the belt and pushed them to the ground before
grasping his half-hard prick and lifting it up towards me.  He pushed back
the foreskin to display the purple head, glistening with pre-cum juices,
then muttered almost to himself, "This is going to be a good one, up to the
hilt in her tight little bum-hole." He proceeded to masturbate quite slowly
at first, then with growing speed and enthusiasm as he reached maximum
rigidity and was trembling with tension.  Stopping abruptly, he went around
behind me and lasciviously fondled my quivering buttocks.  "What a great
ass you have too.  I wonder whether you have really used as it was meant to
be used.  Have you ever tried a really big cock up your tight little butt?
Well, this is your lucky day." He slid a massive forefinger down the crack
of my buttocks and probed into the anal opening.  My gargled screams and
twisting limbs did nothing to defend my poor mistreated body from his
viscous depredations.  By applying brute force he finally managed to ram
the tip of his digit inside my virginal bumhole and twisted it around.  He
then gave me violent finger fucking with no more lubricant than a brief
spit to get it started.  "You're going to have to open up a lot more than
that to get my horny great prick up there." He declared, "I think you are
going to need some persuading.  How about a nice set of fishing hooks where
they hurt most." He took a selection of large hooks from an old tin box and
held the first one up against my right nipple.  I couldn't take my eyes
from it as he forced it right through my sensitive aureole at the base of
my teat and then gave it a hard tug.  The waves of pain surging through my
tortured breast almost caused me to pass out, but he was not finished. 
With barely a pause he took a second hook and rammed it into my left nipple
in exactly the same way.  A trickle of blood slowly made it's way down the
curve of my tits as he stood back to admire his work.  "Very nice indeed,
now for the piece de resistance.  This will really hurt, but I do so enjoy
it." He collected an even larger hook and knelt in front of my wide spread
legs.  Using two fingers he pressed apart the lips of my pussy and probed
around my vaginal opening.  Then reaching higher, he pushed back the hood
over my tender clitoris and pinched the little bud between his finger and
thumb.  Pulling it out an agonising distance, he lined up the third hook
and very slowly and deliberately, he hooked it through the most sensitive
spot of my body.  The agony was so intense I did pass out until he threw a
cup of water over my face, and even then I teetered on the edge of
consciousness for minutes.  After taking a moment to tie the three hooks
together with a single piece of fishing line, he then went back behind me
and muttered in my ear, "Now we'll see how determined you are to keep me
out of your ass.  Before you know it you will be begging me to sodomise you
to take the pain off your cunt." I felt him move close behind me and the
tip of his truly massive rigid prick slide up and down my ass crack before
prodding squarely against my tightly clenched anus.  "O.K.  girlie, here it
comes ready on not." With this comment his muscular hips thrust forward and
he simultaneously reached round my body to grab the fishing lines and twist
on them viciously.  The agony of my most sensitive spots being dragged
towards each other in this terrible way overpowered my overloaded defense
actions and I unwillingly relaxed my sphincter muscle for just an instant.
It was enough to let the monstrous invader force it's way through and I
felt the bloated head of his cock lodge inside my rectum.  I remember very
little of the next ten minutes, luckily for my sanity I believe, as he
proceeded to fuck me in this diabolical manner.  At one point I do remember
trying to force the monstrous intruder out, but only succeeded in opening
up my ravaged sphincter muscle further to give him easier access.  My
agony, and the grip of my previously unpenetrated rectum ensured that his
sodomising couldn't last long, and he eventually fucked me to the stage
where he couldn't hold back any longer.  With a mighty heave he thrust the
swollen head of his cock up to the hilt with his balls rammed against my
pussy lips and held it there as he jerked jet after jet of hot sperm into
the depths of my ass.  After what seemed an age he slid his half-hard
member out of my bowels and let me hang from my chain half conscious.  As I
recovered my shattered wits I noticed him laying out some implements on the
bench, then he went to the camera in front of my position and kneeling down
for better access, he loaded a new roll of film into the holder.  It
suddenly occurred to me that my only chance of making an escape was right
now while he was distracted.  Feeling the weight of the large wooden beam
that was forcing my legs wide apart, it seemed that I could use it as a
weapon.  Taking a firm grip on the chain above my head, I thrust my left
ankle down and back and heaved with every scrap of my remaining strength to
kick out at his head.  Here I at last had a stroke of luck.  As my foot
came rearing up in line with his shoulders, he rose to his feet and the end
of the heavy timber spreader crashed into his head just above his right
ear. He dropped like the proverbial log and I was quite convinced that I
had killed him outright.  Now I had the problem of releasing myself from my
terrible bondage, but since I was no longer in a panic situation, it turned
out easier than I expected.  By heaving myself up hand over hand I grabbed
the hook from which I was suspended and pushed the chain links clear and
dropped to the floor.  Blessing Jacqueline's fitness I had no trouble
reaching each ankle and freeing my legs followed by the ball gag and the
obnoxious wrist straps and manacles.  Before making a run for the door I
checked on Charlie to see if he was quite dead, and was shocked to discover
that he had a strong pulse and was breathing almost normally.  He was one
tough cookie so I made up my mind to finish my project by making sure that
he didn't interfere with any more young girls.  After fitting the manacles
to his wrists, I added a second half hitch to prevent him escaping the way
I had, and then hauled him into a position sitting upright under the
pulley. Making use of a vehicle towing strap, I tied it around one of his
knees and passed it around his back and under the other one.  Then, with my
knee in his back, I pulled the strap as tight as I could and tied it off
securely.  This left him with his legs folded up and his knees spread wide
and tucked under his armpits.  With the aid of the geared winch I then
managed to haul him up until his belly was level with my shoulders, no mean
feat considering his weight.  A refrigerator supplied me with a few ice
cubes that I used on my tortured body to relieve the pain, then I cut the
barbed ends off the hooks with a pair of side cutters and eased them out of
my flesh.  I then threw a pail of cold water into Charlie's face to revive
him so that he would understand everything that was going on.  "I've got
three bits of news for you Charlie boy, and they're all bad.  Even very bad
you might say." I told him, speaking quite loud to be sure he heard over
his own groans.  "Firstly you have been putting this where you shouldn't,"
I said, slapping his now limp prick with the tips of my fingers, "So it
occurred to me that a prompt circumcision might deter you at least for a
short time." I showed him the long nose pliers and box cutter I had taken
from the bench, and then accompanied by ever increasing screams from my
terrified victim, I started to work on his penis.  I pushed back his
foreskin, put one jaw of the pliers onto the prick head, pulled the
foreskin forward over the jaw, then closing the tool hard I pulled it away
from his body.  His entire body was squirming and trembling as he watched
the knife blade approach his manhood but was quite unable to do anything to
defend himself.  Unhurriedly I made a slice down the foreskin beside the
pliers right past the head of his cock, then sideways around the shaft
until the piece came away.  There was less blood than I expected, just a
small trickle, even when I took a second grip on the other half of the
mutilated piece of flesh and cut that away as well.  A combination of pain,
trauma, and probably concussion had made him pass out again, so after
destroying the camera and both rolls of film to protect myself, I then
doused him with another pail of cold water.  "Wakey, wakey you useless
hooligan, that was the easiest part.  Now it gets worse.  I found this
little tool in your drawer and I've been making guesses how to use it,
would you like to demonstrate?" I held up the implement and he shut his
eyes tightly and turned his head in horror at what I had found.  It was a
steel tube, slightly larger than his erect prick with a mass of holes all
over it.  Laying beside it was wooden rod like a piece of broom handle, and
when the rod was pushed into the hollow tube every hole extruded a sharp
needle about half an inch.  My first thought was that it could be used as a
rather mean dildo, but under the present circumstances it seemed like an
interesting anal probe.  As I smeared it with spit and prodded the steel
tube up against his convulsing rectum he started begging.  "My god, no,
please not that, I'll do anything you say." He went on and on as I twisted
and pushed it deeper and deeper into his body, stretching his sphincter
wider than it had ever been and burrowing right into his belly.  Eventually
the last of the holes vanished inside his butt and I reached for the
actuating rod.  I nosed it in gently at first to force the first couple of
pins out into his flesh, then as the pain made him gasp in horror, I
smashed my hand against the rod and rammed it home driving every sharp
little spike into his internal organs, causing him at least as much agony
as he had put me through just a short time ago.  I didn't bother to revive
him this time, since I had discovered the long-term cure for his pedophilic
activities.  In the cabinet at the end of the basement I had found some
bricklaying tools including a bottle of cleaning acid which I knew to be
extremely corrosive.  I next took two short lengths of string, tied a slip
knot in each, circled them around each testicle and pulled them tight.  He
was half-conscious as I filled a hypodermic syringe with the acid, plunged
it deep into one of his balls and injected the fluid irretrievably into the
gland.  Once I had operated on the other one in the same way and I heard
his rising cries and groans as the acid burned into his testicles, I was
quite certain that this would be the best possible castration imaginable to
put an end to his preying on defenseless young girls.  As I rescued
sufficient clothing to get me back to the hospital it occurred to me that
being found like this would probably be worse for him than leaving him to
struggle for hours, so I dialed the emergency number on his house phone,
put the handset down onto the table without answering and made my way out
of the house.  I had no trouble sneaking in the back way at the hospital
using the same door that I had left ajar, and was cleaning myself up when a
surgeon came in to tell me I could pay a quick visit to "The President" if
I wished, but not to excite him.  By now I had had a decent change of
clothes delivered so was almost back to my usual relaxed self, ready to
play the part of a hospital visitor.  John was almost back to his old self
already; giving me a quiet grope as we chatted about the appalling
attempted assassination and what we planned to do next.  I begged off after
a quarter of an hour, pleading that I was feeling a little tired (in
reality totally exhausted), and promising to see him in the morning.  Next
morning of course I was back in Oxford lying out on the Prof's couch
awaiting the dreaded debriefing we had to go through.  As I awoke he was
leafing through a manila folder holding a blank piece of paper.  "Can't
understand it, I'm sure I noted down everything we had set up for you to
have a crack at.  It should be here." I jumped in quickly before he could
get too involved with the questions.  "First off please, you've got to tell
me.  Is President Kennedy dead or did I waste my time" I pleaded
with him.  "What JFK.  Of course he's dead.  You should know, I saw you at
the World Wide Requiem down at the chapel.  Don't tell me you've forgotten,
it was only three years ago." "But, - what about the assassination attempt,
didn't it happen" "What, that '63 thing Oh they tried but
it takes a lot more than a nutter to put down a man like that.  Just as
well that bullet did miss, we wouldn't be here using all of the benefits of
Mars base industries if old JFK hadn't pushed the programme through back in
'69, or was it `70"

   I would like to hear from anybody who has read this story to hopefully
improve my work.  Like it or hate it, just drop me a line at this address.
If you want to swap story outlines, video clips, or pictures better still.
joa4579@yahoo.com