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--------------------------------------------------------
Copyright (c) 1999: This is intended solely for adults, 
and any other rebroadcast, retransmission, and account 
of this game is strictly prohibited by the National 
Hockey League. Wait --The NHL doesn't care-- I care. Any 
unauthorized redistribution of this is in violation of 
copyright. I authorize this to be archived in its 
entirety, except in those cases where a fee is charged.
--------------------------------------------------------

Witchcraft
by John A (John3365a@aol.com)

***

A version of the movie "Fantasy Train" with a decidedly 
sexual bent to it. (MF, rom, humor)

***

The loud screech preceded the train car's tumble by a 
matter of seconds. There was hardly enough time to grasp 
what was happening let alone brace ourselves for the 
impact that followed. The car removed itself violently 
from the magical tracks and tumbled several times, 
tossing its passengers into the floor, roof, and walls 
until the rolling finally stopped and the car settled 
sideways into the soft mud of a riverbank.

The five of us groaned and spat out expletives as we 
recovered from the derailment.

"Is everyone all right?" I asked, rising to a standing 
position on the train's windows. I pulled a suitcase off 
of Allison and tossed it aside, looking around the train 
car at the mass of bodies that was tossed around as a 
result of the accident.

A chorus of grunts acknowledged that everyone was at 
least none the worse for wear as Maria kicked the rear 
door open and crawled out of the now horizontal door 
opening. The worst injury that anyone suffered was a 
deep bruise to Wijit's shoulder.

We gathered aside the toppled train car as it sat in a 
clearing about twenty feet from where the remnants of 
the magic train's rails were. 

"Wijit, that shoulder looks awful. That's one hell of a 
bruise you have there." I examined his shoulder as if I 
actually knew something about medicine. "It's as purple 
as Virago's prose." I joked.

"Can you move your arm?" asked Allison.

"No, the damn thing hurts like hell -- I can't lift it 
at all."

"You're going to have a pretty big lumpen there, Wij." 
Maria added.

"I don't mean to interrupt," interrupted Virago, "but 
what the hell is going on with our train tracks?"

We turned and looked with astonishment in the direction 
that Virago was pointing. All that was remaining of the 
magic train tracks were two twenty foot lengths of rails 
floating about five feet above the ground. The rails had 
no beginning and no end and looked to be just long 
enough to hold our train car and nothing else.

"What the fuck?" I said indecorously.

"Where are the rest of the tracks? And what about the 
train?" Maria noted that the rest of the train was 
nowhere to be seen.

"I think I know what happened -- kind of," I proposed. 
"Unlike regular train tracks that cover a physical 
distance, these tracks cover a distance in time. They 
started in the late 20th century and presumably ended at 
our supposed destination -- Rome in 40 ad. So one 
section is theoretically only in one time period at one 
time, so when we derailed, our section of track was 
frozen in this spot in time."

"But there were cars behind us, where are *they*?" asked 
Virago.

"Probably at some point in the near future -- from 
wherever it is we are." I guessed.

"So what about the rest of the train?" 

"If I follow the logic, if the train derailed like we 
did, then each successive car from ours is probably at 
some point in the past along the timeline we were 
traveling. So the engine is probably furthest in the 
past and each car is just a bit more in the past than 
the car that was behind it." Allison chimed in.

"But what if the rest of the train didn't derail?" asked 
Maria.

"Then they're blissfully on their way to ancient Rome 
for two weeks of drunken debauchery under the 
hospitality of Caligula while we're stuck in God-knows-
where just waiting for some savage to hack us to 
pieces." I kicked the mud off of my boat shoes, 
splattering some on the khaki shorts I was wearing in 
the process, causing me to mutter incomprehensible 
swears as I did.

"Which brings us to another question, John's hysteria 
notwithstanding," Allison snickered. "Where is *here*?"

"Well, how long did that screwy little leprechaun say 
the whole trip would take?" Wijit moaned, trying to use 
a towel he retrieved from the train as a makeshift 
sling.

"About four hours, why?" Maria plopped down on a rock 
near the toppled car and stretched, pulling her DKNY 
sweatshirt tight against her large breasts. This was the 
first that I noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra 
beneath the sweatshirt. How did I miss that before?

"Maybe we can figure out what year we're in based on how 
long we traveled."

"I think we traveled for about an hour, at the most, 
before the accident," added Virago, adjusting the sheath 
for her broad sword and straightening out her laced 
leather vest which did little to hide the swell of her 
breasts. They were certainly impressive breasts, but all 
that leather was a little intimidating. "So where does 
that put us? About the year 1500, maybe?"

"Possibly, probably a little later than that. But that 
assumes that we were traveling back through time 
linearly," I continued as if I knew what the fuck I was 
talking about. "That is, any given amount of time that 
we spent on the train would correspond to a set amount 
of years of time travel, and that relationship would be 
constant for the entire trip."

"But we really don't know, and that leprechaun was too 
busy playing with his lucky charms and downing the 
bottles of Irish whisky that Shon got him to bother 
explaining any of the details of the trip to us." 
Allison fumed.

"And that's another thing about the little prick -- 
sorry, I mean wee person," Maria said snidely. "What was 
the deal with the assigned train cars? The veterans got 
to sit in the front few cars -- first class -- and as 
the seniority in the group got less and less the rest 
were pushed to cars in the rear. Did you see the car 
that Denny and those guys had to ride in? That was like 
a cattle car. At least we had padded seats. None of the 
other segments of the trip were like that. I think 
someone pissed Louie off."

"Don't look at me. I've tried to stay out of his way. 
I'm not the only wise-ass on the train." I jumped to my 
defense -- someone had to.

"The car Uther and Bronwen and those guys were in was 
great." Allison interjected, straightening out the skirt 
of her navy blue Anne Klein suit. "I caught a glimpse of 
it when shorty was shuttling us back to our car. They 
had maids and man servants and maybe even a concubine or 
two -- *and* full bar service. What did he give us? A 
case of Molson. What a sport."

"Uh, actually I brought that along," said Wijit, the 
Canadian, "that's just aboot the best beer there is oot 
there, eh."

"Thanks Wijit. So the cheap little bastard got us 
nothing -- oh, excuse me -- cheap little wee person." I 
sat on the grass, trying hard not to be conspicuous in 
his ogling of Maria's tits, Virago's ass, and Allison's 
legs. I don't think I succeeded.

"He was an odd little guy, but right about now he's the 
only thing standing between us and being stuck in 
wherever-we-are." Maria said glumly while pressing her 
chest out a bit further, as if to give me a better look. 
God, she's such an exhibitionist. "What should we do?"

"Why don't we just wait here for a while," suggested 
Wijit, rubbing his shoulder. "With any luck they'll 
realize what happened and the train will come back for 
us."

The five of us waited around for the return of the magic 
train, idling the time by talking, joking with one 
another and finishing the rest of the case of beer that 
Wijit had brought along. After two hours, with no train 
in sight, we started to get restless, hungry, and a 
little worried about the helplessness of our situation. 
Privately, I began to worry that we might actually be 
stranded somewhere in the past and was disconcerted by 
that thought at the least. Somehow I didn't picture this 
hapless little group of ours as a Swiss Family Robinson.

"I can't take any more of this. We need a plan, we just 
can't sit around waiting for something to happen!" 
Virago, the warrioress, paced with frustration, 
smoothing the leather leggings over her muscular thighs. 
"This forest affords us a fair amount of concealment and 
the train car can provide shelter, but we're going to 
need to find food if we're here for very long."

"I agree. I'm already starting to get hungry, but should 
we go too far away from the train car?" asked Allison.

"If we want to eat we do," I added. "I somehow don't 
think we can get takeout."

"Well, there aren't any fruit trees or edible plants 
around here. We're either going to have to go foraging 
or try to venture into a village." Virago offered.

"Does anybody have any military training or survival 
skills training or anything like that?" Maria queried, 
her breasts still straining against her sweatshirt.

"Well, I've had toilet training, does that help?" I 
thought a bit of humor would lighten everyone's tense 
mood.

"Yeah, great. Now we're all happy that you won't soil 
yourself when the locals are stringing us up from the 
trees." Allison stuck her tongue out playfully at me.

"Seriously," I continued seriously. "We're going to have 
to be careful if we wander too far from here, we don't 
have much a frame of reference for finding our way 
around."

I privately worried about what we'd meet up with when we 
left our secluded area. We could very well have been 
dumped in the middle of the civil war and get caught in 
a crossfire. Or perhaps we were in the middle of the 
English civil war and a loyalist mistook us for 
parliamentarians. Or even worse, we could have been in 
the middle of Spain during the Inquisition. I had no 
doubt what those extremists would have done to a group 
who looked like we did. We'd be burned at the stake 
faster than we could say Auto-Da-Fe. 

Aside from the physical dangers we may have been facing, 
there also was the potential damage to the timeline that 
we could be doing. The leprechaun had said that nothing 
we did when we got to our destination would affect the 
timeline, but this was an unscheduled stop. I worried 
that something we did would have a minute effect that 
would snowball over the years into something tragic. I 
didn't want us to be the cause of the Allies losing 
World War Two, or slavery not being abolished, or, 
heaven forbid, disco not dying when it did.

"We're probably not in too much danger from attackers. 
Nobody's going to mess with us with Virago wielding that 
big sword of hers," Maria piped in, snapping me out of 
my paranoid reverie, then continued sarcastically. "Also 
if we're attacked John can just say some smart-ass 
remark that will be sure to win over the natives."

"What's going on? When did this become pick on John 
day?'"

I whined.

"We do have one problem," Virago added, her warrior's 
instinct obviously much more attuned to tactics than the 
rest of the group. "Someone's going to have to stay 
here, just in case that leprechaun realizes that some 
people are missing. This section of forest seems pretty 
remote and untouched, so I don't think whoever remains 
should be in any danger."

"I'll volunteer," volunteered Wijit. "With my arm like 
this I'm pretty useless anyway."

Wijit headed back into the train coach to try to fashion 
a spot to relax and rest his shoulder. The rest of us 
wished him well and followed Virago's lead as she forged 
a path through the dense forest. When the underbrush 
became too thick, Virago unsheathed her large sword, and 
began to hack at the flora as we tried to avoid the 
swath of the blade on her backswing. I made a mental 
note never to piss her off.

After fighting our way through the heavily packed forest 
for about an hour, we emerged into a clearing. We walked 
on past a field and climbed a hill to get a better view 
of what was surrounding us. When we reached the top of 
the hill, for as far as it seemed there was nothing but 
wheat fields. Our hearts sank.

"Is that a town over there?" Maria pointed to a tiny 
spot near the horizon, past some farms that spotted the 
landscape.

"What, that?" I pointed to a little rise in the 
distance.

"No, that looks like a pile of shit," Maria indicated an 
area in the distance. "Over there."

"I think so...about how far do you think that is?" 
Allison strained to see in the distance. Our spirits 
lifted at Maria's sighting. 

"I'd guess maybe an hour's walk, give or take." Virago 
estimated. "Remember, ideally, we don't want to interact 
with any of the locals, we might not exactly fit in. We 
should try to limit out contact. The ideal situation 
would be to find some fruit trees and bring a large 
supply of them back to the train car and wait for the 
others to come and get us. Failing that, we might try to 
make some discrete contact with one or two townspeople 
and try to get their help."

"Sounds like a plan -- let's get moving while we still 
have some good daylight." I looked at my watch, it was 
just after two in the afternoon -- with luck we could 
get to the town, get some food and return to the train 
car before nightfall.

"Another hour? My feet aren't going to last another 
hour," Maria complained before we had taken three steps 
off the hill.

"Yeah, my feet are killing me too," Allison whined. "I 
knew I shouldn't have worn heels."

"Zha Zha, Eva, stop complaining," I said sarcastically 
then added to no one in particular, "will somebody 
please get the Gabor sisters a limo."

We walked down the hill and headed toward a dirt road. 
As we got on the path we agreed that we needed to keep 
our eyes on the lookout. We really needed to try to 
avoid the locals as much as possible. We knew that we'd 
probably need to interact with a couple of people, we 
just didn't want to become the talk of the town -- 
provided that there *was* some sort of town anywhere 
nearby.

"What if we can't find anything to eat?" Maria asked, 
kicking up the dust of the road.

"Donner, party of four." I snickered.

"Don't even joke about anything like that," Allison 
said. "I mean, I *love* being eaten, but not *that* 
way."

"Remember, we have to try to use our best diplomacy if 
we meet up with someone," Virago admonished, looking at 
me for some strange reason as she said it.

"Hey, I can be diplomatic." I was hurt by the 
implication -- well, not really, but I tried to pretend 
to be hurt to engender sympathy. It wasn't effective.

"Yeah, just like you were diplomatic in 1960s Las 
Vegas?"

Allison reminded.

"I *was* diplomatic in Vegas, I was just trying to have 
some fun, that's all."

"You almost got your ass kicked by Sinatra." Virago 
chimed in. 

"Hey, the man hung around with Dean Martin, Sammy Davis 
Jr., and Joey Bishop. You'd think he'd have a sense of 
humor about things." I protested.

"Listen to me closely, you don't go making mafia jokes 
to the chairman of the board." admonished Allison. 

"I realize that *now*. It would have been nice if you 
would have said something *before* I got us kicked out 
of the Sands." I gave a look of mock indignation. 
"Although I'd like to think that I would have turned him 
into Old Black and Blue Eyes."

Virago just shook her head, "Ok, here's your warning. 
Don't piss off the locals."

"Don't worry, I won't insult any of the farmers here in 
Hooterville."

"Hey, watch what you say about farmers," Allison chided. 
"My uncle's a farmer. This is so pretty out here, it 
looks just like his farm. He's been in Oklahoma for 
years."

"Well, once you get in a road show, it's tough to get 
back on Broadway." I chortled.

The path narrowed as we approached a small farm house 
that probably measured just twenty feet square. It 
answered the question as to whether or not there were 
any people around us, but it confronted us with having 
to make the decision as to whether or not we wanted to 
make diplomatic contact, such as it was, with the 
occupants of the house. That question was answered for 
us when a man dressed in a plain black suit came riding 
up behind us on a horse. My first thoughts were that we 
could be somewhere in Amish country. Swell, the Amish 
were real open with outsiders -- especially outsiders 
dressed as we were.

"Hail, strangers." The man alighted from his horse and 
greeted us with a wary smile.

"Hi, uh, hail." Maria greeted him with a warm smile.

"You all do not look as if you are from these parts. 
From where do you come?"

"Well, *I* come..." I was cut off by an elbow in the 
midsection by Allison, who muttered something about 
diplomacy.

"We have traveled from far away and are merely looking 
for some food and somewhere to rest." Virago answered 
vaguely.

"Such strange garb you all wear. You certainly do not 
come from anywhere near here."

"Uh, no. We come from... France. Yes France. These are 
the current fashions in France this year." I stammered. 
When in doubt, claiming you're from France always seems 
to excuse a certain amount of eccentricity.

"Ah, but you are so far from home. What are you here 
for?"

Our Amish friend looked at us warily.

"Well, out boat was shipwrecked and we were given 
passage on another ship which deposited us...here." I 
still didn't know where *here* was, and didn't think 
that letting on to that fact was a good idea with the 
suspicious way buckles was eying us. I just hoped *here* 
was somewhere near water.

"Well, the town is a short walk down this road. There 
you can find food, and lodging, and . . . suitable 
clothing. Farewell, my chores call to me." Our new 
acquaintance jumped back up on his horse and galloped 
down the road without looking back at us. I wasn't at 
ease without first contact, but it didn't go as badly as 
some of the scenarios I'd imagined.

"Here we come, walking down the street," I sang, doing a 
poor impression of the Monkeys. "We get the funniest 
looks from everyone we meet." Ok, I thought it was a 
tension breaker.

We continued down the road for another twenty minutes 
before we started to see what seemed like the outskirts 
of a town. 

"Look at the houses. What period of time do we seem to 
be in?" Allison asked no one in particular. "They all 
look like small boxes with high pitched roofs."

"They look as if they could be in the federal or early 
federal style of design, common to the American Colonies 
in revolutionary and pre-revolutionary days." I said, 
feeling pretty proud that I was able to identify our 
general period of time and location.

"So, you do know something other than how to make smart-
ass comments." Maria snickered. "Do you know anything 
else that could be of use?"

"Probably not, unless anyone has a burning need to know 
the all the winners of the American League Most Valuable 
Player award."

Allison scratched her head as she gave me a look 
reserved for the mentally ill.

"Then I guess I've ceased being useful on this journey. 
You can all just use me as your sex tool now." They 
ignored me.

We walked along the side of the road, trying to stay 
close to the woods that bordered it, and staying out of 
plain view of the local populace. We still hadn't seen 
any of the locals and were pretty happy with our luck. 
As we got closer to the town, I felt a pressure in my 
bladder from all of the beer that I had drunk while we 
were sitting around the train car.

"Uh, guys...I have to, uh, pee." I stammered.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Allison shook her head at me.

"Guys are always talking about *women* needing to go to 
the bathroom at the most inconvenient times," Virago 
chuckled.

"Hey, I had about eight of Wijit's Molsons, I'm amazed 
that I haven't gone before now."

"Oh, you've been gone for years," Maria giggled.

"Just hurry up, John," Virago urged.

"I'll just head into the woods. I'll be done in a 
minute." I ran about fifteen feet into the woods and hid 
behind a tree before I started to do my business. "No 
peeking." I shouted.

I heard some sort of comment and snickering from the 
women, but I thought it was better that I not know what 
they were saying. 

Just as I was finishing with my last shakes I heard some 
commotion from where the girls were waiting for me. I 
crouched down and kept under cover as I got nearer to 
try to see what was happening. Crawling within earshot, 
I peeked my head up and noticed four constables, one of 
whom had confiscated Virago's sword, surrounding my 
friends. In addition to the constables, our buckled 
friend was there, pointing menacingly at the ladies.

"Look gentlemen, at the brazen way these hussies dress. 
Look at these two, exposing their legs in such an 
immodest way. And the third -- what kind of woman 
carries a sword? And look at what she's wearing. She's 
barely covering her...her...womanly areas. The trollop. 
See, I told you what they were...." The farmer went on 
hysterically about the women's lack for modesty in their 
dress.

"Hey, listen stubby," Maria interrupted him. "We're not 
trollops and we're not hussies. Pendejo."

"Yeah," agreed Allison. "Just because we're not covered 
from head to toe with clothes doesn't mean we're easy."

"That's right," Maria added. "But it doesn't mean we're 
difficult, either."

My heart sank as I realized that my friends were being 
arrested for prostitution based solely on the way they 
were dressed. I would have like to have raced in to the 
rescue but I realized that to the locals I was dressed 
just as oddly as my companions, and if I tried to 
approach the constables, I'd most likely be arrested for 
being their pimp -- or something like that. I certainly 
wouldn't be any good to them if I were locked up too.

"Silence!" The constable who seemed to be in charge 
shouted. "We will not hear any more of your prattle as 
you try to while your witchly talents to our detriment."

"Our what?" Virago stood open mouthed, not sure if she 
heard correctly what he had said.

"Who else but witches would dress as brazenly as the 
three of you? The royal governor's tribunal will try 
them for witchcraft in the morning. Take them to the 
stocks, men." The officials began to lead the ladies 
away, most likely to be placed on public display.

"I could use some socks, my feet are killing me in these 
heels. I think I'm getting a blister," said Maria. "I 
knew I should have worn my Nikes."

"Maria, we're going to the stocks, not socks." Virago 
corrected quietly. "Empalizada, not calcetines." Virago 
stressed.

"What? Stocks? They're going to put us into stocks, 
like... like...prisoners? Let me go, you bunch of 
wankers. This story needs a much better Spanish-English 
dictionary!"

Maria yelled as the guards led them away.

Fuck! We didn't need this. I needed to formulate a plan, 
and quickly too, before anything happened to them. 
Witches? *Witches*? I thought that being arrested for 
prostitution was bad enough. But witchcraft. This was 
some serious shit. Of all places for a bunch of erotica 
writers to be dumped. If being in the middle of the 
puritanical colonies wasn't bad enough, we had to end up 
in the middle of the Salem witch trials with those 
paranoid lunatics. They burned witches, didn't they?

I started to take off in the general direction of where 
the guards took my friends, hoping to find out where 
they were taking them. I stayed under the cover of the 
woods so I wouldn't be caught too, although that was 
slowing me up quite a bit. I'd be no good in stocks 
myself -- not that I'd be much good free, either. What 
the hell was I going to do to get them out? 

I continued walking through the woods and before I got 
more than twenty five feet from my original location, I 
was tapped on the shoulder. I jumped and let out a 
shriek before turning around and noticing a young woman 
giggling slightly at my panicked reaction.

"Who are you?" I tried to recompose myself.

"I should ask that of you. We do not often get strangers 
in these parts, and certainly not ones who are dressed 
so...oddly." she looked me over with an almost humorous 
gaze. I suppose it was the way you'd look at any 
anachronism. "My name is Samantha. Samantha Corning. And 
you are?"

"John, uh, John A." 

"A? Your last name is A? What an odd name."

"Well it's more of a nym than a name. See I really 
didn't take the time...never mind."

She giggled at my awkwardness and I couldn't help but 
smile at her. 

"I saw what happened to your companions. It has gotten 
terrible here in Salem these past few months. Everyone 
can accuse anyone else of being a witch with no proof 
whatsoever. Those two poor sisters were arrested for 
being witches. The reverend testified that they were 
panting and screaming out incantations when all they 
were doing together were...oh, my. Pardon me." Samantha 
blushed when she realized what she was alluding to.

She sighed, quickly trying to change the subject. "You 
and your friends dress strangely, where do you come 
from?"

"Uh, France. The style of dress is much different 
there."

"I'm sure it is," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't 
believe you, but I don't think that you're lying to 
conceal a malevolence, but rather to protect me. 
Besides, it doesn't matter. I have a keen sense about 
people, and I trust you. Come with me. You need shelter, 
you can come with me to my home."

"I appreciate that, but I have to do something about 
getting my friends out of the stocks."

"There's nothing that you can do for them during the 
day, My sister and I will help with your friends, but 
we'll need to work during the cover of darkness. Now 
come with me, before you're captured too."

Samantha led me through a path in the woods that led 
closer to the town's center, we approached a small 
nondescript federal style house at the end of a 
cobblestone street. We managed to slip in through the 
back door, unseen by anyone's eyes.

"Samantha, can I ask you a question?" I took a seat in 
her sparse dining room as she nodded her assent. "What 
were you doing in the woods before?"

"I was gathering wild mushrooms for my... for cooking." 
She turned away and walked into the pantry.

There was a lot to this girl that I couldn't figure out 
but she was my only hope to help me free my companions, 
so I had no choice but to trust her. I told her about 
our predicament, leaving out a lot of the pertinent 
details like coming from the 20th century or the messy 
bit about the time travel and the leprechaun. I'm not 
sure she believed my story -- she seemed to be 
tremendously perceptive -- but she didn't challenge it, 
anyway. During the middle of my account, her sister 
Tabitha came in and cast a suspicious glance in my 
direction. They talked for a couple of minutes before 
Tabitha volunteered to take some food to Wijit. I gave 
her rough directions to the train car and she seemed to 
know the area well enough to find it. I tried to explain 
that it was our carriage that overturned and the horses 
had fled -- after all, train travel was a good 150 years 
away. I'm not sure either one of them believed me, 
though.

"Don't forget your potions, Tabitha."

"Potions. What do you mean potions?" I was a little wary 
of what they had planned for Wijit.

Samantha just laughed. "I said potions, but you would 
think of them as medicines. Tabitha and I have quite an 
extensive supply of ... medicines that have great 
healing power. She'll bring some salves and your 
friend's shoulder will be as good as new. Tabitha has a 
...sense about what people need. She's very intuitive."

That pacified me a little and I thought that if she 
really had any evil intentions, all she'd have had to do 
was to turn me into to the constables and I'd be up in 
stocks with the women.

"You must be hungry, John. I was just about to make the 
evening meal. Would you care to join me?" Samantha 
asked.

"Yes. I'm starving. Thank you."

"I thought I'd make brown bread, corn and boiled mutton. 
Do you like boiled mutton?"

"Does anybody?" Diplomacy, diplomacy, I reminded myself. 
"I mean, anything will be fine."

What the hell animal did mutton come from, I wondered. 
Not that it mattered; I was hungry enough to eat a 
horse. Wait a minute, it couldn't be, could it? No, I 
think back then horses were too valuable to eat. At 
least I hoped so.

All through the meal I found that I couldn't help but 
gaze at Samantha. I hadn't noticed it before, and it was 
difficult to see because of all of the layers of thick 
black clothing that she was wearing, but she was a 
stunningly beautiful girl. Her black hair peeked out 
teasingly beneath her bonnet and her blue eyes sparkled 
with everything that she said. 

"So, how is it that two women come to own a house by 
themselves?"

"This was our parents' house. But they passed away last 
year, so now Tabitha and I take care of it." She brushed 
some loose hair out of her eyes and there was just 
something so innocent yet seductive in her action.

"That's an awful lot of responsibility for two women 
back th... now, how old are you?" It was difficult to 
tell with all of the clothing that she wore, but I 
wouldn't have guessed that she was a day over twenty 
five.

"I am nineteen and Tabitha is eighteen. It *is* hard 
work for women without husbands -- but we don't want 
them either -- we have skill at dressmaking, and grow 
our own vegetables in the garden out back, so we can 
provide for ourselves. But not having husbands is why my 
sister and I are looked down upon. All those men; 
they're all hypocrites. Narrow minded idiots. Tabitha 
and I were raised by very open minded parents. You could 
say we're a little different than most other people here 
in Salem. They're so intent on finding that someone 
isn't as pure as they *pretend* to be. One of these 
days, they're going to accuse the wrong person..." she 
stopped herself after working up her emotions. "But 
enough of me, what about you? Is one of those women your 
wife?"

I laughed, maybe a bit too loudly. "No. They're just 
friends. We were traveling and sort of got sidetracked 
here."

"The clothing they wear, and you too. It's all so... 
revealing. This is truly the way you dress where you 
come from?"

"Pretty much -- well, except for Virago. She has her own 
unique way of dressing. But the rest of us are dressed 
normally." Actually with the leather leggings and vest 
she was wearing, Virago could have fit in nicely on 
Hollywood Blvd. But I wouldn't be the one to mention 
that to her. I had learned firsthand that Virago had 
quite a temper, and I'd just as soon have her on my side 
than against me.

"It's so fascinating. So... so revealing. They all look 
so wonderful, though."

"I'm sure you look just as nice, you're just covered 
with this heavy clothing." It was more like draperies 
that she was wearing. These puritans certainly had 
modesty down to a science. "You should allow yourself to 
get more comfortable. You could at least take the bonnet 
off."

I reached over and gently removed the bonnet that was 
restraining her hair. She had a look of apprehension as 
I did, but as soon as it was off she smiled and shook 
her jet black hair out, letting it flow smoothly to her 
shoulders, shining as it caught the rays of the late 
afternoon sun that filtered in through the window. It 
was amazing how beautiful she looked with this simple 
transformation. I took a wisp of hair in my hand and 
brushed it back, grazing my hand lightly against her 
cheek as I did. 

We stood breathlessly next to each other as I let my 
hand linger on her face. 

"You're so beautiful. It's a shame you don't show more 
of yourself. I'd very much like to see you dressed 
more...casually."

"I'd like to, but I don't know. It all seems so... 
wicked."

Samantha blushed.

"You just need to relax. Just because they say it's 
wicked, it doesn't mean they're right. You said yourself 
how narrow minded they are. Look at me, do I seem evil?"

"Isn't that what the devil would say? 'Trust me, you can 
eat the apple'." Samantha threw her head back in 
laughter. She had no idea how lovely she was. "I'll be 
back. Wait right here."

Samantha skipped out to a back room, an impish grin 
brightening her face. After a couple of minutes she 
emerged from her room, wearing nothing but a simple 
white cotton evening gown. As plain as it was, the gown 
was so much more flattering to Samantha than her black 
dress and I was overwhelmed.

"You're beautiful, do you know that?" I smiled at 
Samantha and her face boiled crimson. Her breasts 
pressed against the front of her dressing gown and rose 
and fell with her deep breathing. 

"Do you really think so?" Her voice was almost a whisper 
and she was shaking like a scared little girl.

"Absolutely." I brushed her cheek with the back of my 
hand and leaned in for a kiss. She hesitated at first, 
pulling back slightly from my advance. I held her firmly 
and tried to steady her nervousness. After appearing to 
be wrestling with her conscience she looked deeply into 
my eyes and took a deep breath as she brought her lips 
to mine. We kissed standing in the middle of the room 
for what seemed like hours. Her unsupported breasts 
pressing against my chest felt heavenly and I think I 
could have stayed like that forever. I slid my hands 
down to her firm ass and kissed her neck. I nibbled on 
her earlobe and she began to writhe in my grasp, trying 
to grind her pussy against my thigh. I don't even think 
she realized what she was doing; she was acting solely 
on instinct.

"Why don't we go lie down. We'll be more comfortable," I 
suggested.

"Oh, I don't know what I'm getting into. This is so 
wrong." She pulled away from me slightly, yet was still 
staring in my eyes.

"Come on," I whispered. "Trust me. Has anything felt 
bad, so far?"

"Well, I suppose not. But relations with a man I'm not 
married to seems so...so..."

Not waiting for her for finish her protest, I took her 
hand and led her to the bedroom. When we approached the 
bed, I gave her a tender kiss on the lips and placed my 
hands by her sides and began to lift off her dressing 
gown. 

She was shaking like a leaf, and I had my doubts about 
what I was going to do. She was a virgin after all, and 
her first lover was about to be someone 300 years 
younger than her. This was not a late 20th century girl 
with late 20th century morals and ideas about sex. For 
Samantha, this violated just about all of the social 
mores of 17th century Puritan society and I had some 
serious doubts as to whether or not I was willing to 
accept that responsibility. All that having been noted 
though, my rational side was still quickly losing out to 
my lust for this girl. I'm sorry, I was years away from 
home and had expected to be at a Roman orgy right about 
now. I was horny. Not that my circumstances affected my 
lust. I'm pretty much horny all the time. And being with 
this incredibly sexy young woman was certainly not doing 
anything to quell my passion.

Just as I was questioning my resolve, she gave me a shy 
smile that let me know that whatever her doubts may have 
been, she wanted this to happen.

I pulled the garment over her head and was taken aback 
by her utter beauty. Her puritan skin, untouched by the 
light of day, was a silky alabaster and was unimaginably 
smooth. She had beautiful flared hips and wonderfully 
firm breasts that stood out proudly, their nipples 
puckering in the slight chill of the room.

Samantha lay on the thick quilts of the bed as I took my 
shorts and shirt off. She giggled slightly at the sight 
of my erection, and I was taken aback by her reaction. 
Hell, it's not the most comforting thing for the ego to 
have one's wood laughed at by a woman, a virgin no less.

"Surely you can't expect *that* to fit inside me, it's 
so big." I smiled broadly, knowing that there aren't 
many things a woman can say to a man that are as ego 
boosting as 'it's so big.'

I assured her that it would, indeed, fit and I sidled 
next to her on the bed. Samantha took a deep breath as I 
began kissing her body from her neck down to her navel. 
I wanted to show this girl how pleasurable that sex 
could be, but I thought twice before bringing my mouth 
down to her pussy. I wasn't sure if cunnilingus was even 
done *anywhere* in 1692 -- although I was pretty 
confident that those kinky puritans didn't go around 
eating pussy. I was trying to relax Samantha, not 
frighten the bejeeses out of her. 

I reversed my direction and began climbing back up her 
body.

I clamped my lips over her left nipple, and then the 
right. The rosy peaks stiffened at the contact with my 
tongue and my she started writhing under me and moaning 
as I took turns nibbling each one.

I positioned myself above her and ran my cock over the 
lips of her now engorged labia. She was much wetter than 
I thought she'd be as I began to press myself into her. 
She smiled nervously as I pressed my cock inside her 
slowly. I was determined to be gentle with her; it had 
been years since I'd made love to a virgin, and I didn't 
want to repeat the mistakes I made as a bumbling 
teenager.

She winced a bit as I stretched out her vagina. God, she 
was tight. I had forgotten what a virgin pussy was like, 
especially after being on the train for the past week. 
The women on the train whom I'd been with were all 
wonderful and incredibly sexy, but let's face it, I was 
definitely not their first. However, this girl's vagina 
had a vice like grip on my cock and I had to concentrate 
my utmost at not losing it too quickly.

I was kissing her neck and brought one of my hands down 
to play with her clit as I drove my cock in and out of 
her sex. The added stimulation from my fingers was all 
she needed. Her moaning increased and she started 
thrusting up at my cock, trying to get as much of me 
inside as possible. As her orgasm neared, she had a look 
of terror in her eyes that was quickly replaced with 
ecstasy as she surrendered to the pleasure she was 
experiencing. She began to pant in orgasm, and I lost 
all hope of self control and just three strokes later 
was emptying myself into her pussy.

I rolled off of her and pulled a quilt up to cover us as 
we snuggled together. She laid her head on my chest and 
I found myself absentmindedly running my fingers through 
her shiny black hair. She was still breathing heavily 
when she looked up and smiled contentedly at me.

"Remind me to trust you more often. That was amazing," 
she looked at me lovingly through heavy eyelids and 
placed a brief kiss on my lips. She may have thought I 
was amazing, but then again, I was her first, she really 
had nothing to compare it to. Damn, I hated it when 
self-doubt crept in. I placated myself that amazing was 
amazing, no matter how little experience that she had. 
In addition, she considered me 'so big'. I really, 
*really* liked her.

I smiled as I returned her kiss and realized at that 
point that it would be hard to leave this girl. However, 
300 years would be stretching the definition of a long 
distance relationship, and Louie had made it clear that 
we couldn't bring anybody from the past back on the 
train with us. Fucking wee bastard.

We laughed together as we snuggled, tickling each other, 
playing footsie, and pretty much just enjoying the 
proverbial post-coital bliss. I checked my watch and saw 
that it was just shortly after nine o'clock.

"Is that a time piece on your arm?" Samantha marveled at 
my watch. "That's such an odd looking item. Nothing like 
the time pieces we have here."

"Well, like I said. I come from far away." I really 
didn't think she could ever really comprehend exactly 
*how* far away.

"We still have the matter of rescuing your friends," she 
reminded. "Although I have half a mind to keep you in 
this bed with me forever."

"As tempting as that sounds, I can't let them stay in 
stocks any longer. It's night now, and I need to go out 
and try to rescue them -- although I have no clue how 
I'm going to do that."

"Don't worry, John. I have everything all worked out. 
The two guards now on duty get replaced by one at 
midnight. At that point, we'll go out and I'll distract 
the guard while you sprinkle some powder I'll give you 
at the guard. Then he'll go to sleep and we'll take his 
key and free your friends."

"What kind of powder are we talking about? Your sister 
had some special salve that she was going to use on 
Wijit, and now you have some powder that's going to 
knock the guard out. Is there something about yourself 
that you'd like to tell me?"

"Let's just say that I oppose the witch trials for a 
more personal reason." Samantha smiled sheepishly as it 
dawned on me that I had just finished having sex with a 
witch. Well, I didn't have warts on my face, and my dick 
hadn't fallen off so I figured that I was probably safe. 
It's funny, witches don't have cold tits after all. It's 
amazing the things time travel teaches you.

I convinced Samantha that we could take a little nap and 
wake up in time for the changing of the guard. I tried 
to explain to her what a watch alarm was, but I resigned 
myself to ask her to take my word on it. She was so 
tired that it didn't take much convincing at all and 
within a minute she was fast asleep. My only thoughts as 
I was drifting to sleep was that I hoped I remembered 
how to set the alarm properly. The last thing I wanted 
was to wake up to the light of day to get a ringside 
seat for my friends' hangings. There was no hope that 
they wouldn't be convicted. I had a funny feeling that 
these people knew the outcome of the trials before they 
actually took place.

Fortunately, the alarm went off at midnight and we rose 
and dressed sleepily. I looked over at Samantha and 
realized that the dream I had been having was not borne 
totally out of fantasy. She was absolutely adorable, 
perhaps even more so with her hair all mussed after a 
couple of hours of sleep. 

Samantha went into a cabinet and retrieved a small bag 
from a cabinet before we crept silently out of her 
house. We walked along the dark deserted streets to the 
town square where the public stocks were. I chuckled as 
we passed the House of Seven Gables, realizing that it 
didn't look quite like I had remembered it. The gardens 
that were in front of it were in my time a parking lot 
and the field across the street was occupied in 1999 by 
a bank and a Dunkin' Donuts. I snickered to myself that 
I liked it this way better, although a strong cup of 
coffee sure would have helped to wake me up.

Samantha led us to a secluded spot that gave us a good 
vantage point of the stocks and we could see a lone 
guard walking back and forth behind my friends, who were 
bent over with their heads and arms restrained.

"Look at the way they have these people in stocks, this 
is like the fucking inquisition."

"Shhh. He'll hear you." Samantha admonished quietly.

"What kind of women are you, to dress like this," we 
could overhear him lecture. "Why, if any of you were my 
wife, I'd teach you a lesson in...."

"Hey, flaco," Maria cut him off. "If any of us was your 
wife, you would have died from exhaustion years ago."

"Well, tomorrow you'll learn your lesson. Harlots. 
Witches!"

The guard took up a position behind the girls and we 
noticed that he was staring intently at the backsides of 
my three companions.

"Why is that guard staring so intently at your friends? 
This is what I meant about all the men in town," 
Samantha whispered. "They all profess to be so pious, 
but they're all just hypocrites. Look at him stare at 
them. They do have lovely, um.....backsides but he seems 
so intent..."

"Come on Samantha, you can do better than 'backside.'"

"But I shouldn't...it wouldn't be proper."

"Come on, you know you want to. Trust me. It'll feel 
good."

"But..."

"Come on you can do it. Remember I told you to trust me 
before and it felt good."

"ASSES, are you happy? Ass. Ass. Ass. Ass. Ass. Ass. 
Ass." Samantha giggled as she freed herself from her 
puritanical bonds. "That felt good...although not as 
good as the things you were doing to me earlier." She 
blushed.

"I told you it would -- both times." I smirked.

"The question remains, why is he staring so intently, 
especially at the one with the ungodly short skirt?"

"Actually, Allison's skirt isn't that short, women where 
I come from wear their skirts above the knee. That's 
actually fairly conservative compared to some. I guess 
people around here don't get to see women's legs too 
often. It must be a shock for him to see Allison's legs 
and Maria in her shorts and Virago with that 
leather...well...thing, that barely covers her...her..."

"Ah, now you are the one who's tongue-tied. What's the 
matter, can't say what you want. Come on, you can do 
it." Her eyes sparkled brightly as she was enjoying 
teasing me. I was really falling for this girl, even 
though I knew it was impossible for her to leave this 
time and impossible for me to stay. Still, there was 
something incredibly special about her and I knew I'd 
miss her when it would be time to leave. That is, if we 
were ever going to be able to leave.

"Well, I didn't want to offend you, but if you insist." 
It was time to turn the tables on her. "That thing 
barely covers her pussy... Happy?" I smirked and 
Samantha's cheeks invented a new shade of red. I could 
be a real prick when I wanted to. "But you're right, he 
really does seem to be staring at Allison. I wond..." I 
paused, struck with the realization of why Allison's 
backside was holding the guard's rapt attention. "Now I 
understand. She's not wearing panties again."

"No undergarments? Surely not."

"Oh yeah. She's riding the breeze." I laughed quietly.

"How unseemly. Does she do this often?"

"She says it happens by accident, but we're beginning to 
think she does it all the time. I think she secretly 
loves flashing herself around."

"You and your friends do some things very strangely. It 
must be a fascinating place you come from. I wish..."

Samantha looked up and stopped herself as we saw someone 
approaching the stocks. A short, rotund fellow exchanged 
a few words with the guard and soon after the guard left 
his post with a smile on his face, apparently pleased to 
have been relieved so early in his shift.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"That's the Reverend Chambers. He's always making 
speeches about the danger of sin, and how witches are 
trying to destroy the community," Samantha's jaw 
clenched in anger. "He's such a small minded man. He was 
the one responsible for the hangings of those two 
sisters. He said they were pawns of the devil. The 
reverend had their father convinced they were witches. 
They all preach piety, but they're nothing but 
hypocrites, trying to control the community through 
fear. And that Reverend Mather, so high and mighty, he's 
not much better than the others. He had the chance to 
stop this, but he chose to say nothing. Only now is he 
beginning to raise questions about the trials. . . . 
They're all a bunch of *asses*." Samantha giggled 
quietly, pleased at her use of her new word.

The portly Reverend Chambers waddled behind the girls, 
staring lecherously at them as he did.

"You three need to repent," he said in a booming voice. 
"Admit that you are witches, the Lord will look 
favorably on your admission."

"We're not witches, why won't any of you believe us?" 
Virago protested.

"Liar! Repent. Who else but witches would dress in such 
a manner as to seduce good men into your evil trap? 
Admit it. Admit and repent! Fornication and witchcraft; 
two sides of the same coin."

"Hey, porky. Why don't *you* admit that you're an 
asshole?" Maria asked impertinently -- well, as 
impertinent as she could get with her hands and arms 
being restrained as they were.

"Oh, you three are evil, indeed. You all shall be hanged 
in the morning and you will perish in hell." Chambers 
snickered sinisterly. This guy really was an asshole. He 
was taking obvious pleasure in the fact that the girls 
were going to be sentenced to death. I got the distinct 
impression that this sadistic bastard got off on these 
hangings. I wouldn't have put it past him to make up 
stories just to watch people rot in these stocks. When 
he replaced the guard on watch, I was feeling a little 
guilty about having to knock out a man of the cloth with 
Sam's powder, but now I was going to enjoy it. Hell, I 
was considering foregoing the powder and just hitting 
the fat fuck in the head with a rock instead.

"Impudent wench. Look at you all, parading your 
backsides like the women the sailors visit in Boston. 
And you two on the ends, with those large breasts of 
yours just hanging down, attempting to bewitch good men 
everywhere." Then he addressed Allison. "Apparently your 
witchly skills aren't quite equal to that of your 
friends. The devil hasn't possessed your breasts as he 
has your companions."

"Hey, weirdo, not that it's any of your business, but 
I'm a perky 34b," Allison replied flatly.

"Oh, you're all evil. You all need to be taught a 
lesson."

"What kind of lesson?" Virago asked warily.

"You'll be sorry you ever asked that question, witch." 
Chambers snickered as he fished his little penis out of 
his pants and began stroking it with his left hand.

"What's he going to do?" I started to jump up. I wasn't 
going to allow this little prick to rape my friends.

"Wait, look at him," Samantha pointed at the reverend, 
who was leaning against a post behind the girls, 
grunting as he jacked himself off. "His...you know...is 
so small." She giggled.

"Hey, pervert. What are you doing back there?" Maria 
tried in vain to turn her head to view the reverend's 
actions. "Are you playing with yourself? You better not 
get any of that stuff on Allison. She doesn't like it 
when it makes a mess."

Crack! His right hand came down hard on Maria's bottom 
while his left stroked his small penis furiously.

"Hey!!! What do you think you're doing asshole? I don't 
do pain! Pami's the one into that, and she's in England 
now trying to teach some king how to be a submissive."

Crack! The reverend ignored Maria and brought his hand 
down hard onto Allison's ass. It seemed to me that he 
let it linger for an extra moment.

"Owww! Stop that!" Allison cried. "My husband's a lawyer 
and if you..."

Crack! The reverend's hand found Virago's backside and 
the sound of the blow striking the leather silenced 
Allison.

"If I were not shackled you would see what it's like to 
face the wrath of a warrior. You coward."

"Let that be a lesson to you three. Now silence or 
there's more punishment to be meted out." His hand 
pumped furiously over his tiny penis; he closed his eyes 
as he neared release.

"Such a horrible man. He's supposed to be a man of the 
cloth. Do you have such terrible people where you come 
from?" she wondered.

"Yes, they're called reviewers."

I was seething as I witnessed the public spankings. I 
wanted nothing more than to run out there and snap that 
scrawny little reverend in two. I finally could take no 
more of what I was watching, and I started to get up 
from our concealed position. "He's just about finished. 
Give me the powder. You won't even have to distract him, 
his eyes are shut."

I crept out of out hiding spot and silently approached 
the hypocritical prelate. Just as I neared him a little 
semen dribbled out of his undersized member. He grunted 
and I quickly closed the last three steps and emptied 
the contents of Samantha's bag on his head. He 
immediately collapsed in a heap on the ground, with dirt 
adhering itself to his semen covered fingers and prick. 
I laughed at the thought of him being discovered with 
his penis out of his pants and covered in dirt and come. 
The fat bastard was probably just going to blame witches 
for it anyway.

"Do you ladies hang around here often?" I realized it 
was a bad pun, I just couldn't help myself.

"John, is that you?" Allison voice was hopeful.

"I'm here to rescue you," I said proudly, heroically. "I 
couldn't let the three of you go to trial."

"Well, it's about damn time. What were you waiting for?"

Virago asked somewhat angrily. 

"Yeah." Maria added. "Do you have any idea how painful 
these things are, especially for someone as shor... as 
not tall as me? Hurry up and get us out of these 
things." So much for being given the hero treatment.

Samantha came up out of our concealed spot and retrieved 
the key from the reverend and began to unlock the 
stocks.

"Hello." Virago said questioningly to Samantha, 
obviously wondering who this girl was.

Samantha said hello and I proceeded to introduce her to 
my friends. Maria shot me a questioning look, but I 
pretended to ignore it. We had to get out of there fast, 
before anyone noticed what we had done to one of the 
town's leaders, and I didn't want to linger any longer 
than we needed to.

Before we left, Samantha showed Virago where her sword 
was stored while Maria and Allison helped me place the 
good reverend in the stocks. We stepped back and laughed 
as we let him hang there with his pants down to his 
ankles. If only we could be there in the morning to 
witness the townspeople's reactions to their oh, so 
upright Reverend Samuel Chambers.

"We have to get going, before anyone spots us and 
signals an alarm," Virago adjusted her sword in the 
sheath.

"Good point, let's go." Maria was shaking her arms out 
after being in stocks for the better part of the day.

We headed out of the town center toward the outskirts. 
We walked along the roadway without fear of detection. 
Salem in 1692 wasn't exactly teeming with nightlife. 
Hell, in 1999, Salem wasn't teeming with nightlife 
either.

After just leaving the town limits, seemingly thinking 
that we had avoided detection, we kept hearing sounds 
coming from the woods. Every time we approached to 
investigate, the noises would stop. We tried to excuse 
the sounds as deer or squirrels rustling through the 
fallen leaves, but we weren't sure that we believed 
that.

"Come on, let's get the fuck out of here. This place is 
giving me the creeps." I started to get a little nervous 
that our escape was just a little too easy. I had a real 
bad feeling. Maybe it was just the mutton coming up on 
me.

After we had gotten twenty minutes or so out of town, we 
started to relax, confident that we had left undetected. 
Well, *I* started to relax; I think the girls were 
already at ease long before I was. I tried to convince 
myself that it was because they felt safe and secure 
with me around -- yeah, *that* was it. 

Samantha edged closer to me and we began walking hand in 
hand. Occasionally one of the other girls would eye us 
suspiciously, whispering something to each other, but 
said nothing to me.

When the trail narrowed and out path became more 
indistinct, Samantha took the lead, guiding us easily 
through the dense forest. Allison was up front, talking 
to her, while Virago and Maria joined me in the rear.

"So, what's up with the girl?" Maria asked quietly.

"Jealous?" I teased.

The laughter from Maria and Virago at that point would 
have awakened the dead. They certainly knew how to keep 
my ego in check.

"She's just a girl who I met who decided to help us, 
that's it." I felt myself getting defensive. That was 
essentially the truth -- part of it anyway.

"Oh come on, John." Virago snickered.

"*What*?" I tried to feign ignorance.

"She *is* very pretty," said Virago.

"How old is she anyway, 21-22?" Maria chuckled 
derisively.

"Um, something like that." I mumbled and hoped the 
subject would change.

"Oh, she's not even 21 is she? You're too much. How old 
is she?"

"Nineteen. Are you happy now, she's nineteen. But it's 
not like that. I really like her. She's very special." I 
tried to whisper so Samantha couldn't hear me.

The two of them tittered at me. "You're pathetic. She's 
young enough to be your daughter."

"In the mountains, maybe," I protested. She was 19, 
after all, and I was only 34.

"What is it with you and teenagers, anyway?" Virago 
shook her head at me. "People are going to be confusing 
you with MichaelD if you keep it up."

"Well, if I keep it..."

"Be quiet, that was an unintentional pun, I meant 
'continue'," she giggled.

"There's definitely something to be said for making love 
with a tender, innocent virgin. She may have been 
inexperienced but at least she didn't bite holes in my 
lips like someone else did to me."

"You have whining down to a science, do you know that?" 
Virago countered. "Can you drop that already. That whole 
trip on the Enterprise was screwy. How many times to I 
have to apologize about that? And I don't seem to 
remember you complaining any of the five times we did it 
-- so I don't want to hear any more out of you."

Apparently that was the punctuation on that statement 
and there was nothing else to be said. I chuckled to 
myself but said nothing and we walked in silence as we 
continued tramping our way through the fields. Samantha 
had separated herself from Allison and came back to join 
me. Maria winked overtly to me as she and Virago eased 
forward to give us some privacy. Samantha teased me a 
little about a few of the things Allison was telling her 
about me -- there was never an unspoken thought with 
these women was there? I should have given Allison a 
spanking myself when she was in the stocks.

"I like your friends a lot. They're a lot of fun to be 
around." Samantha clasped my hand and gave me a kiss on 
the cheek. "So are you," she added sweetly with a gleam 
in her eye that sparkled in the light of the full moon.

"I think they really like you, too. And I know I do."

"So...what's going to happen now?" her voice was mouse 
like and she averted her eyes from mine.

"Well, hopefully we can get the train back on its tracks 
and continue on to our destination." She looked at me 
strangely, not fully comprehending my words. "It's 
complicated."

"I meant...with us?" she was hesitant and her voice was 
barely audible. "I'm not so naive to think that we're 
going to rush off and get married or anything like that 
-- I know you must have other women in other places -- 
but I'd really like to spend some more time with you. 
Other than the house, Tabitha and I have nothing holding 
us back here. Salem is not a place for free thinkers to 
reside. I wouldn't mind doing some traveling with you 
and your friends....if you'll have me."

Shit! What was I going to say? What could I say? I 
really liked this girl and I couldn't bear hurting her, 
but Louie's rules were explicit. No passengers from out 
of time. Something about upsetting the temporal balance, 
or something like that. But what could I do? I had real 
feelings for Samantha. How could I reject her like that?

"Samantha, honey. You'll probably never understand this 
at all, but I'm forbidden to take any passengers on the 
train." I sighed deeply and felt terrible. "This has 
nothing to do with you and it's not an excuse at all. 
All while we've been walking I've been trying to think 
of a way we could stay together. I'm forbidden to stay 
here and you're forbidden to come back with me. I wish 
there was something I could do, but the man in charge of 
the train made it clear about passengers. I'm sorry."

Samantha's eyes reflected the deep sadness she was 
feeling but she tried to force a smile. "I guess I 
understand. You have your exciting traveling life. Why 
would you want to be stuck with an unsophisticated small 
town girl like me?" She turned away, shielding me from 
her tears.

"Samantha. Sam, please." I stopped and reached out for 
her, trying raise her eyes to mine. This was not how I 
expected this whole thing to end up. I'm not sure how I 
expected it to turn out, but leaving a beautiful girl 
heartbroken in tears certainly wouldn't have been my 
choice. "You mean a lot to me. *A lot*. This isn't easy 
for me, I'd love for you to come with me. It just can't 
happen, though. It's against the rules." Of course, I 
wasn't exactly telling her the whole truth. I couldn't 
bring her back for another reason too. How would I have 
explained to my wife a 19-year-old girl -- or perhaps 
326-year-old girl -- coming to live with us. I somehow 
didn't think she would want to share me with a teenaged 
fuckbunny -- even if Samantha was accustomed to doing a 
lot of housework. Still, I knew I needed to come back 
and see her again. What was it going to take to convince 
Louie to make another stop in Salem? Probably a lot. Wee 
green bastard.

"Besides," I continued. "You have a lot to do here."

"What do you mean?"

"These witch trials. You have to something about them. 
They've gone on long enough. How many people will be 
persecuted before it ends?"

"What can I do? I'm just a woman. I can't even address 
the townspeople at assembly." She said dejectedly.

"You're a very strong willed woman. There's a lot that 
you can do. Plus, it seems as if you have a trick or two 
up your sleeve." I wasn't sure what her actions would do 
to the time line, but injustice is injustice and it had 
to be stopped. Louie said that our actions would change 
the time line, but he said nothing about the people we 
met, and something had to be done.

We approached the clearing where the train car was 
located. Samantha marveled at the magnificence of the 
coach. This was probably the most opulent thing she'd 
ever seen -- even if it was lying on its side.

"I suppose Wijit and Samantha's sister are both asleep. 
We should try to be quiet." Allison said considerately.

"Wait, look in the car. Is that Tabitha's hair that's 
shining in the moonlight?" I pointed out.

"Where?"

"It was there a minute ago...there it is again. Now it's 
gone." I pointed out where Tabitha was bobbing her head 
up and down.

"What's going on in there?" Samantha asked naively as 
Maria started to chuckle.

We neared the coach and Wijit's moans were audible. We 
walked in, apparently just as Tabitha had finished her 
oral ministrations.

"Tabitha! What on earth are you doing?" Samantha was 
shocked.

Tabitha's face turned crimson. "Well, Samantha. You know 
how I have the ability to know what a person's deepest 
need is? Well, after we finished the supper I brought, 
it was apparent what his thoughts were consumed with. 
You know how empathetic I am. I had no idea what it 
was...but it was fun." She giggled shyly.

"Amazing, guys." Wijit scrambled to pull up his pants. 
"That was well worth the wait, eh. Whichever great 
philosopher it was who said 'blowjobs are cool' was 
telling the truth."

"Uh, Wij, I think that was Kivi." Maria pointed out.

"No. I don't think so," he gave us a pensive look.

"*Really*? Well, she was right."

"Hey, how's your shoulder?" Allison asked.

"Not too bad. A lot better since Tabitha rubbed her 
medicine on it. It's still a little stiff."

"And when we came in, so were you." I teased.

We got the introductions out of the way before we 
decided to call it a night. It was already 3am, so we 
weren't going to get many ours to sleep. And looking at 
the makeshift conditions we'd have to sleep in, we'd be 
lucky to get much sleep anyway.

*

A squawking from the train coach's loudspeaker awakened 
us rudely. The sound coming from it was the unmistakable 
brogue of everyone's favorite leprechaun, Louie.

I looked around the car as we heard the static coming 
from the speaker. Wijit had apparently already awakened 
and had gone for a walk. Maria, Virago, Allison, and 
Tabitha were all lying closely together, in a mass of 
arms and legs, while Samantha opened her eyes and 
snuggled closer to me. She just felt so right, lying 
next to me. Damn, it was going to be tough to say 
goodbye to her.

"All right people, listen up." Louie's voice came 
through fairly clearly -- especially considering that he 
was broadcasting from another time. "We had a wee 
mishap, but I have everything under control now. I'll be 
reversing the engine and picking up cars one at a time. 
The whole procedure will take about two hours. Sorry for 
the inconvenience." Louie didn't sound very contrite. I 
think I even detected a little glee in his voice. I 
discovered that I really hate leprechauns.

"What was that?" Samantha asked, unaccustomed to hearing 
someone's voice come out of a box. "Is that magic?"

"That was the way the conductor of the train can 
communicate with us. No, it's not really magic, just 
kind of advanced. Like the way several hundred years ago 
everything needed to be written out long hand, and now 
there are printing presses that allow for the making of 
books and pamphlets."

She just smiled, not really interested in my 
explanation, and snuggled closer to me.

After a little while, we all decided to get up and 
stretch our legs in preparation for the return journey.

The next hour or so just flew by and before we knew it, 
the end of a train was emerging from nothingness. 
Samantha and Tabitha were both shocked at the sight, and 
truth be told, it was pretty amazing to us too.

"Top o' the mornin' to ye." A smiling leprechaun jumped 
down from the train.

"It's about time. What the hell happened?" Allison asked 
angrily.

"Now, now lassie. It was just a wee mishap. All is right 
now."

"All isn't right, shorty," Maria was happy to be able to 
call someone -- anyone -- shorty. "We were scheduled to 
be killed this morning."

"And we want to be in our regular compartments -- none 
of this segregation shit. We're exhausted and need to 
sleep." Allison whined. "But not before a nice meal -- 
lobster maybe. The only thing we've eaten in the last 
day is some disgustingly mushy porridge."

"Oh, lassie. Not to worry, not to worry. You'll all soon 
be snuggled in your own compartments with bellies full 
of food and wine." Louie tried doing his best to placate 
us.

"Yeah, well hurry up lucky, sprinkle some of your new 
blue diamond's over here and get this fucking train back 
on the tracks." I said.

"The name's Louie, bucko," the leprechaun spat back. 
"Ever since we let that feebleminded moron appear in 
that freakin' cereal commercial, we wee folk get no 
respect."

"Of course not -- how much respect do you think you're 
going to get if you go around calling yourselves 'Wee-
Wee Folk'?"

"Listen stretch," Louie was very pissed at me at this 
stage -- his face was actually getting greener. "I don't 
need any of your fancy smart-ass word twisting. I have 
half a mind to leave the lot o' you here."

As tempting as it was to comment on his half a mind' 
statement, the prospect of being stuck in 1692 with the 
Reverends Chambers and Hale and the rest of these 17th 
Century McCarthyists was not very appealing at all. 

Louie shot me a final dirty look before he took out some 
green clovers -- he was such a stereotype -- and threw 
them at the train car. Magically -- of course -- the 
train coach righted itself and floated gently to the 
tracks, coupling itself automatically to the last car in 
the line.

Wijit, Allison, Maria, and Virago said their goodbyes to 
the sisters and hopped up onto the train. I was 
expecting more of a difficult parting between Tabitha 
and Wijit, but they were very brief in their parting. 
Perhaps Wijit was still exhausted from the four blowjobs 
he had received over the past twelve hours. Maybe there 
was nothing more to it that Tabitha fulfilling his need.

Samantha and I moved aside, trying to avoid everyone's 
prying eyes.

"I've been thinking about it, and I think I can do 
something about these trials. Someone's got to stop 
them, why not me?" Samantha smiled broadly. "But, I *am* 
going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too, more than you realize. But 
there's not much we can do is there? I'd like to say 
I'll come back to visit at some point, but I don't want 
to make a promise I can't keep."

I leaned in for a kiss and Samantha's lips met mine 
tenderly. As we were breaking the kiss, Samantha sucked 
my lower lip into her mouth and bit down gently on it. 
Then she lightly compressed it between her lips and 
traced her tongue over it before releasing it and 
giggling.

"I can certainly see the appeal of this lip biting thing 
that Virago seems to like to do," she grinned impishly 
as I looked dumbfounded at her. "Oh, I heard everything 
you said. I think you're special too." She giggled.

I smiled warmly and gave her hands a final squeeze and 
turned away and boarded the train. I waved as the train 
started to phase out of her time; my last vision was of 
Samantha blowing me a kiss.


Epilogue

"Hey John, why are you so happy?" Pami asked me as we 
passed each other in one of the refreshment cars.

"She did it!"

"Who did you just sleep with now?" she rolled her eyes 
at me. "You know, John, you're not the only one getting 
it. This train has been one nonstop orgy ever since we 
got on."

"And it will be until we all get off." She laughed at my 
double entendre. "But that's not what I'm talking about. 
Do you remember the girl I told you about? Samantha?"

"Yes, you mentioned something about her. Why?"

"Well, I just went into Denny's..."

"There's a Denny's on this train? What did you eat?"

"Denny Wheeler, the *editor*." I shook my head at her. 
"Anyway, I just went into his compartment to look in one 
of his encyclopedias."

"I though he just had dictionaries." Pami said.

"Oh no. He's an editor, he's got every type of reference 
book in there. I think he even has the Guinness book of 
World Records and some book with all sorts of obscure 
quotes in it."

"Does this story have a point?" she was twirling her 
handcuffs impatiently.

"Yeah, hold on. What's the rush anyway? A submissive 
isn't actually going to get mad at you, he'll probably 
think he deserves your tardiness...Anyway, like I was 
saying, I just looked in the encyclopedia and Samantha 
changed it."

"Changed *what*?" 

"The witch trials. When I learned about them in school, 
we were taught that they lasted over five years and 
there were over 600 people sentenced to death. Well, 
when I just checked, the encyclopedia said..."

"You mean read," she corrected. "The encyclopedia 
couldn't have *said* anything."

"Ok. Whatever." That's what we needed, another editor. 
"Anyway, the encyclopedia *read* that the trials lasted 
only seven months and fewer than thirty people were put 
to death. I'm just so proud of her."

"That's terrific." She smiled then furrowed her brow.

"So...do you think that any other history was changed?"

I hadn't thought of that. "Well, maybe some small stuff. 
Probably nothing major." I shrugged. "It's not like 
we're going to get off the train and find out that Bob 
Dole is no longer the president or anything like that."

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 69