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SM / humil / viol / caution / anal / nc
WARNING: This story delves into aberrant sex practidauces. I’m not advocating it. I may or may not even like it. It's simply a fantasy, a product of my
imagination, and thus, completely fictitious.
Peace,
brothers.
Before you read it, please
note the following:
*If you are under
eighteen, it is illegal for you to read this story!
*If you have a hard time
separating fantasy from reality, do not read this story!
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Time Machine
(An Erotic Horror Story)
by
Bad Robot
Book cover
Picture
Click Asstr link below to meet the players
https://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/HumblePie/Pics/time.jpg
The Prologue
George
Flannery is a physicists and one of the must noted man of our time for his many
discoveries & achievements. Although,
even with all the notoriety, few know him as I do.
Me,
well, my name is Gregory Thomas, and as his publicist I’ve come to know the man
as few do. And not just as a physicists who is probing the very boundaries of
space and time, but as a family man; as a single parent father of a sweet ball
of sweetness named
Of
course, I readily admit to being one such heart, and I think it would be safe
to say that you could add the lovely Ms. Ivy Winters’ name to that list as
well.
Ms.
Winters is his dinner guest for the evening. Shes is a
young & attractive & a real go-getter in the world of business.
That’s
a three star Résumé I’m sure you can agree, and the icing on the cake, she’s a
woman who has her eye on George Flannery. So yes, she is a catch, a main liner who is
well deserving of her place at the table, nor stop to wonder why it is we find his
daughter, Elizabeth, there as a third party participant in this social soirée, or
question as to why we find the youngster sitting upon the lady’s Winters’ lap
while she plays the role of the doting Auntie.
"Darling,
you do know that you have a very special daddy, do you not," she asked
"Oh
Yes, Mam, I do, I do."
"Good,
well then you know that you must take very special care of him, leastwise another
girl will be quick to steal him away from you."
“What?”
she shrilled and recoiled, she looked a fright. “Did you just say my daddy is
leaving me?”
“No, no
Sweetheart, I didn’t say that. What I said included the conditional word ‘leaswise,’ which apparently you chose to disregard!”
But it didn’t
matter what the lady said. Not in this
house, not in her house. Here it was she
who was the lady of the house, and not some gold digger bitch who has her eyes
on her papa and taking her place and then give her the
ol' heave-ho!
So, she
put on her baby face, mouthed the tip of her finger and with big round teared-up eyes . . .”
“Oh,
no, daddy tell me it’s not so,” she cried, and then quick as a flash, she jumped
up off Ms. Winters lap and ran around the table and hopped aboard her fathers
knees.
"Really,
daddy, is that true what she said, that some pretty girl is going to steel you
away from me because I don’t take good enough care of you?” she asked as if
questioning the ladies fidelity though with a rather uncanny, self-serving
smile of a girl who had something else in mind. Something that became quite evident
when she began to run her hands up and along the top of her daddy’s thigh and
along the bulging, throbbing length of man-meat that lie beneath and began to knead
& squeeze & whisper sweet nothings at it.
“Ahem,”
he managed to cough up. “You know,
Sweetie, I think it’s getting a bit late, and as Ms. Winters will be leaving
soon anyway, I think it’s bedtime for you.
So why don’t you run up to bed and I’ll follow you shortly to tuck you
in and say good night.”
“Okay
daddy,” she whispered in his ear while standing atop her tippy
toes. “I’ll queue up your favorite song,
‘Sex Me,’ and you bring the tube of Slipppy-Slide
Glide & your Mister Johnny, Okay daddy?
---------------------------
And there you have it!
Some do it because it suits their rhythm.
Some do it to satisfy their need for
attachment.
&
Some do it because Mother Nature plugged
their Libido into the wrong socket.
-----
Chapter I
The Professor & his Daughter
George Flannery
stood up to pour his daughter, Elizabeth, a glass of milk as they sat down at
the dinner table to share the evening meal.
"Daddy,"
she said as she wiped away the film of milk off her upper lip.
"I
was wondering . . .”
“What,
Sweetheart?" he asked as he raised his glass of wine.
“Well,
Daddy," she said with a down turned face, "I was just wondering if
those men are coming over again tonight."
"Yes,
of course, and by them, you are
referring to Dr. Jeffers, and Professor Tomlin, correct?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Yes,
well, as you know both gentlemen are extraordinary erudite men who have been of
great help to me. Quite honestly,
without their input I don’t think my project would have even gotten off the
ground. Plus, they always have a candy
in their pocket just for you,” he said with a smile and a tap on her nose.
“Yes,
daddy, I know, you’ve told me before.”
“So why
is it I see a turned down face?” he replied.
“I
don’t know, Daddy,” she said timidly while restlessly rocking back & forth.
“Hum,
well, it looks to me like someone I know has something on her mind.”
“Well,
you know it’s just that you’re always busy, and when you are not, you are
talking to them.”
“I’m
sorry, baby girl, it’s just what comes when you have a
daddy who has his feet on the ground & his mind in orbit, sailing along on
the astral plane.
“Huh?” she
said with a squint while shuffling about.
“Daddy,”she finally managed to eke out, “all I know is that they
are always coming over to talk with you, which kinda
leaves me with noone to talk to but myself."
"We
talk, Sweetie. Mostly at breakfast &
dinner, like now, but we do talk don’t we?"
“Yes, but,
not about important stuff as you do with them."
"Well,
we're talking now, right?"
“Yes,
but you talk about everything with them, and talk about nothing with me."
"Oh,
I see," he said, with a silly grin. "So that's what is troubling you,
is it?"
“Aha,”
she murmured.
“Well
that’s understandable enough. You are
young and thus far life hasn’t as yet taught you all that much.”
“But
I’m a grownup, a learned man, a scientist, a scholar, who is counted upon to
know the answers. And to do that, it is
incumbent upon me to discuss such matters as those that pertain to my project with
other scholarly gentlemen.”
“So I’m
sorry sweetie, that’s just the way it is.”
“Yes,
Daddy, I know that," she replied while fidgeting with the ends of her
braided ponytails.
“Good
girl,” he then said as he gave her a hug.
“I’ll
tell you what,” he then said to his daughter with an absolutely gargantuan
smile. “Once my discussions with Dr. Jeffers and Professor Tomlin have concluded
this evening, I’ll go up to your room & take you down to my laboratory and show you my machine. And not to worry, your Molly-dolly can come
along too.”
“You think
you might like that?”
“Oh
yes, please, please, Daddy,” she said as she hopped about excitedly.
-----
“Later
that evening, after his discussions with
Dr. Jeffers & Professor Tomlin had concluded for the evening, George Flannery,
our young theorist and explorer of all things relevant to space, time, and
dimensions there of, sought out his daughter, Elizabeth, to show her the end product
of his most fruitful mind.
---
“Oh
daddy,” she shrieked out in surprise. “You made this?” she asked with eyes of
wonder. “It looks like something from
outer space.”
“Does
it? I’ve not been there so I can’t
really say.”
“Me
neither,” she laughed as she gave her papa’s ‘odd looking’ machine a good long look over.
Well,
perhaps my use of the word ‘odd’
might be a bit a misnomer. Allow me to
try another, such as otherworldly.
Now
there’s a word that grabs one’s attention, yes?
Besides, how else can one describe a machine that can sail through time
as readily as a ship can sail the seas.
Of
course, as to how he expects to accomplish such a feat only he knows, and as he
hasn’t been the least bit forthcoming, we can only speculate on what roll, if
any, the huge ornamentally embossed & ionized 6' round rotating disc that stands
up high & erect behind the carriage seat might play in all this? Surely, positioned as it is behind the
carriage seat so as to be free of interference must speak to its importance. Yes?
Could
this disc, in and of itself, be the part of the machine that generates the 1.2 gigawatts of power the good doctor says he needs to dilate the
time & space through which he wishes to travel into & through to the
future past?
Well,
the answer to that does not lie in the heavens, my dear reader, as the heavens
do not speak of such things. No sir, for
that bit of godly knowledge, we must turn to a most unexpected source –
Yes,
you heard me right - Elizabeth! Our little budding nymph with a keen sense of curiousity.
A wonderful trait to possess, yes?
Yes,
and as it should be, and would be, if not for the fact that she also has a voracious
appetite for all things nasty!
And
therein lies our tale, dear reader, and should wish to pursue it, as I hope you will, I suggest you
sit down and buckle up inside Professor George Flannery’s Great machine, and
watch the nasty scroll past.
------
Chapter 2
The following
morning
“Get
up, lazy Bones!” She called out while knocking upon her bedroom door. “Your papa has given me this note to give
you. He said something about a promise
he’d made to you last night but can’t keep because he’s been unexpectedly
called away. Do you hear me, young lady
or do I need go in there and pull you out of bed?”
“Yes,
madam I hear you, I’m up, I’m up,”
“Okay
then, but don’t you dare fall back to sleep, and don’t say I didn’t tell you,” the
lady Mcgillicutty then said, as she turned about to depart,
and thusly, leaving Elizabeth to fall back and again think about all that she’d
be missing out on.
‘Oh no,’
she pouted, the machine, the machine, my daddy’s wonderful, amazing, talk of
the town machine. And me, I’ve yet to
even see it. This is so unfair!”
‘Oh
well,’ she then said to herself while rubbing her eyes. ‘Maybe I’ll just go down to the cellar and sneak
a peek inside his laboratory to see it for myself without his knowing. I mean, it isn’t like he wasn’t going to show
me anyway,’ she reasoned.
And so
she did, and finding the steel door to his laboratory unlocked, she pushed it
open, and for the first time, came to behold one of the most amazing sights
she’d ever seen. A machine of Bronze
& velvet & jewel encrusted panels and levers; a machine that looked like
something not of this world, something that was beyond her wildest imaginings.
Of
course, after that first sighting it took her some time to gather herself back up,
but when her panting, gasping, heaving breath finally did return to her, she waited
not a moment longer to walk in and explore its wonders.
And
first on that list was to sit down in it. To sit behind the helm like a captain
of a great ship and feel its power, but more importantly, to feel that plush,
smooth, red velvet covered seat that when sat upon, cradled her puss like a baby
in a rocker. But unlike a babe in a
rocker it wasn’t a calming feeling she felt. It was an absolutely electrifying
feeling that sent a milky white river of mucilage to flow from out her love
canal.
“Oooooh,” she shivered and shook and sighed as she felt a
milky white river flow from out her body.
Well,
there you have it, and you don’t need an encyclopedia of sexual deviations to
know that our young, 13 year old Elizabeth Flannery is a certifiable nympho of
the first order. I mean, if ever there was a time when she hadn’t her finger up
her puss, it had to be because her daddy had.
Of
course, as one might expect, it took a bit of time for her to settle back down
after stepping out of that marvelous machine, something that pained her heart
every bit as much as it did her quivering, pulsating, sopping puss.
But as
all good things do, they eventually come to an end. And for our little certifiable nymph, that
meant time to recharge her batteries and time to step out of the machine to catch
her breathe, and wipe her sopping puss clean.
Then
after coming to feel herself once again, she squandered less than an instant
before setting out to further explore the wonders of daddy’s machine once
again.
And
that was when she first saw the gold & Jewel encrusted object that heretofore
had been unseen by her, even though it had been sitting on seat right beside her
all along.
And what
an odd looking thing was too. The kind of thing you see pictured in fairytale books
that kings and wizards and fairy godmothers use to perform their magic.
A
scepter, she recalled her 6th grade teacher telling the class, and
while excited by the prospects that it just might be the sort of thing that
made her daddy’s machine work, she felt stoked to the max.
Still in
all, in her heart of hearts she knew better.
After
all, she wasn’t 9 anymore. She was all
of 13 now, and old enough to know that this wasn’t fairyland; this was real
land, and so looking for real answers as to what that scepter-like device could
be, she searched high & low, and back & forth until spotting a slot in the
dashboard in front of her; A slot that had written above it, the words, ‘directional
shift.’
Once
more, after pushing that gold & Jewel encrusted device into the slot, she
saw that it fit in to a tee. Proof
positive that that was the place it belonged.
That it was an instrument that her father had made as a steering device to
take him where he wanted to go. Either
forward into the future or back into the future past.
But as
to what it all meant she hadn’t a clue. But after giving it further thought she
began to realize that she didn’t so much care.
Not with her juices flowing again from out her puss and her pheromones again
flooding her brain.
“Oooh,” she sighed, while rubbing her puss. “I can’t think,
I can’t think, just do it. Just pull
upon that steering device. Maybe that
will make my daddy’s great machine come alive, and begin to shake & rattle,
& vibrate like the seat in my daddy’s lounger, and soon, least I die young
from need.”
So,
without even knowing, nor caring which way to pull that lever, she did, and
fell back into that wonderful, amazing, electifying seat
that lit her up, and blinded to all but the sparks that flew up, and from out her
puss.
----
Chapter 3
The Great Machine Sweeps Elizabeth Away like a
As the
great machine of her father’s making sped off to a place she knew not where, she
sat back and watched the sun rise and then fall again all in an instant, as did
the crumbling away of her home above. One moment she could see the stairs that
led to her room, and the next she was looking up at the stars.
Around and around it went, faster and faster,
the sun the moon the stars and crumbling away of her home above until there was
no more of it to see, or anything else to see other than the rapid rotation of
the sky above until seemingly from out of nowhere she saw another building
appear where her home once stood, and then in less time then it takes to sneeze, that building too was
gone with the wind.
Over
and over, a new building would suddenly spring up from out of nowhere &
then vanished just as quickly, until at last that great machine of her fathers
making came to a skidding stop inside another basement.
Only
this one was a damp, dreadfully dreary place that smelled of rot, a place to run
from, not to. Not at all a place she
wanted to be.
So upon
spotting a stairwell just steps away, she jumped out
of her father’s machine and ran up the stairs, then stopped upon reaching the top
to open a door that entered a hallway. A
rather antiquated looking hallway with walls composed of slats and mortar &
covered with buffalo hides that looked like something you’d see in an old
western movie.
Then
too, not to be overlooked, were the ladies who scurried on past dressed in high bustled hooped
skirts. The whole of it looked so
backward, not forward in time. Nothing like anything she had expected to see,
and rightfully so. After all, as we all
know, time marches on, not back, right?
Still,
even as dazed & confused and out of place our young time traveler felt, she
continued to march on to find a way to satiate that pang of hunger that still
raged from out her little Kitty like a wildfire. A blaze that had come to life just moments
ago, though light years away, in her father’s laboratory while sitting in his
machine.
So as
she carried on walking down the hall, looking & looking until she darn near
ran into a lady who was wearing one of those gray muslin, high bustled dress,
that billowed & bounced & careened about as if it had a life of its
own.
“Young
Lady,” she called out, “would you wait a minute please?”
“Mam,”
she stopped & turned to inquire.
“Young
lady may I ask whooo
you are?”
“Elizabeth
ma’am, she replied on the recoil. “My
name is
“Elizabeth,
well now, isn’t that a pretty name. But my word, what is that you’re wearing?”
she asked while she lifted the hem of the white linen tent-dress that
“I’ve
never scene anything like this before.
“I mean,
it feels so, ahhh,
. . . , so other worldly” Is this something that comes from that Mandarin
Land on the far side that I’ve been hearing so much about?”
“And
what is this,” she then asked, as she lifted up the hem to get a closer look at
a damp spot she’d spotted. Then after holding it up to her nose to give it a whiff;
“Oh my, girl, you’re leaking like a drain pipe.
We’d best find you something to plug up that hole damn quick, else
someone is going to step in one of these puddles, slip & fall & hurt
themselves.”
“I’m
sorry, Mam, it’s just that sometimes I just have to touch myself. You know, rub-rub-and it just squirts out.”
“Yes, but
what I see running down your legs is not a squirt, that’s a flood!”
“I
Know, Ma’am,” she replied, looking a tadbit down cast.
“Sometimes my daddy would get a little snitty about
it too, but that didn’t stop, or even slow him down. No, mam,
he’d just laugh, push in his plunger and then fill my little kettle up again.”
“Kettle?”
“Yes mam, that’s what he called it,” she said with a shrug.
“Oh,
my,” she laughed, as she pointed at Lizzy,
“How
lucky you are to have such a father; A man who can look a mite in the eye &
see a colossus, or feast his eyes on that precocious, plump, red lipped little
bald lady of yours and see a trove to plunder whenever his John Thomas is upon
the rise.”
“Oh
yes, day & night. It’s the same Mr. Nutter & Mr. Hardwick. They had
funny names for my little kitty too; everything from calling it my Honeypot, to my Squeeze Box, to my Snap-Trap.”
“Of
course, they call it a lot of other names too, but some don’t sound so nice to
me, so, you know, I’m not saying.”
“Mr. Nutter & Mr. Hardwick? And who would they be,” she asked with a
squint?”
“They
are the two yard men who work for daddy by day and sometimes come over at night
to play cards with him.”
“Oh,
they come to win the big pot, do they?”
“Hmm,”
she hummed, as she looked at her lil’ kitty, and then
upon straightening back up; “I’m not that big, ma’am. I mean, my daddy doesn’t
complain, but Mr. Nutter & Mr. Hardwick?”
“They
do?” She asks, with brows arched.
“Well, yes,
especially when they are, playing cards, when just a flash of my kitty is
enough to cause the nasty name calling to run amuck. And like I said, none of the said sounded the
least bit nice to me.”
“Not about
my titties though, cuz,
well, like my daddy says, that he’s seem hummingbird eggs bigger, and I guess
they were happy to leave it at that.”
“Anyway,
like I was saying, they are always talking about my lady-parts while playing
cards with my daddy. Some
nice things & some sweet, and a whole lot of nasty things. Like when
they win a hand and me and my lady-parts are all
theirs, until the next round of cards are dealt.”
“You’re
the pot?
“Of
course, why else would they come over to play cards, silly? Daddy just sets me down on the table, and I
lie back while they shuffle and deal the cards then play their hand until the
winner lies down his cards, and then, wallah! 10 seconds after I hear the sound of zippers zipping,
and men sighing, and I’m off to la-la-land!”
“Oh my,
but it does sound a bliss. But
sweetheart, that kind of ‘call on demand when your services are needed,’ has just
got to be taxing on the body parts, no?”
“Hum,”
she hummed, giving it some thought.
“Well, maybe yes and maybe no, it depends.
“On what?”
“On how
much I had for dinner.”
“Dinner?”
she laughed. “You mean, dinner as in dinner, or . . .”
“Dinner
as in dinner only NOT the kind made in the kitchen, she said, with a flushed
red-face while sheepishly rocking back & forth.
“Oh
my,” she said with a smirk, “The gems that come from the mouths of babes.”
“Well,
then, I guess there’s no time like the present to get you started,” she then
said as she picked up
“Where
are we going, Miss,” she asked?
“Miss?” “You call me miss? Child, it’s been over 40 years since anyone
called me that.”
“My
name is Beachum, Gloria Beachum,
and once more, I am the proprietor of the house in which you currently
reside. And as the sign above the door
reads ‘Beachum’s Candy-Land,’ that makes me the owner,
proprietor of this house, and as a matter of course, the owner of you!”
“So, you
better mind & do what I tell you, else I’ll take you over my knee and take the
switch to you!” And, as to where we are
going, we going to get you started. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes, Madam
Beachum, I guess so Madam Beachum.”
“Good,
you’ll make a good fit; everyone is going to just love you.”
“Really,
you think so?
“Oh
yes, most certainly. They are going to be serving up the love by the heaps.”
“But
first, I think it best that we tend to the rumbles in your tummy that I can
hear from the upright. You can’t work on an empty belly, you know.”
“Oh yes,
‘Miss, how true. Like I said,” I was in
such a rush to give my daddy’s big machine a ride
that I skipped breakfast.”
“I told
you, I am not a ‘Miss’, you little ninny!!”
“Now,
I’ve already told you once, but twice?
Child, you’ve already walking within inches from the edge of the
cliff. Got it?”
“Oh
yes, Madam, I’m sorry I just forgot. Anyway I was just saying that since I skipped
breakfast, I feel as though I could eat, and eat and eat and eat and still not
quiet the rumbles in my belly.”
“Well
then, it’s off to see Mr. Emilio.”
“Mister, who?”
“Mr.
Emilio, he’s my chef, and let me tell you, he makes the best honey and oats
this side of ‘
“Oh goody! I’m starved,”
she beamed like a flame.”
“Well
then come along,” Madam Beachum then said as she again
took up her hand and started out down the hall.
“Madam,”
she then thought to ask as they strolled on down the hall. “Where am I, anyway?”
“Where
are you? You are right here, in the town
of ‘Big Nugget’ inside the Candy House, and walking beside me. Okay?
Is that okay with you?”
“Yes ma’ma, I guess so.”
“You
guess so, huh?” She asked, with a nudge
& a smile. “Well now, you tell me,
why all the rush to get to get Candy House this morning?”
“I
don’t know madam. Maybe it was because I
was just so antsy to see what the future was like that I wasn’t so much
listening to the rumble in my tummy. Nor the trouble I’d be in if my daddy
suddenly & unexpectedly came home early and found me and his machine gone,
traveling though and into the future. Or
what I thought to be the future until you near dumped me off my feet when that
big-butt, bustled dress you are wearing swung my way.”
“You
mean, ‘your’ future, not ‘the’ future, you silly little
goose?” she said with a huge smile as she chucked our little time traveler under
her chin. “You can not see what hasn’t
been!”
“Yes,
madam, I guess so, madam. But one thing
I do know - I am starved!”
“Oh,
you poor little thing, your daddy wasn’t there and being gone as he was, you
rushed off without even taking the time to eat breakfast.”
“How
sad, how cruel can this world be? Well,
not to worry my dear heart, you’ve come to the right place. Here at Candy House, meals are always served on
time and are plentiful.”
“But
again, if you happen to find that even plentiful isn’t plentiful enough, we have
stand-bys, by the plenty who will be happy to assist.”
“You
do?”
“Yip! The big and the bigger, the fat & the
fatter, and that doesn’t even include, the crooked,
the kinked, and the gnarled, and even some that have been marred by pickaxe.”
“Oh my,
thank you, thank you,” our little time traveler hopped about excitedly, though
thoroughly clueless as to what exactly it was that Madam Beachum
had just said.
“Well, aren’t
you the eagar little beaver,” she laughed. “Well, not to worry, my little antsy pants,
I’m all over it, but first we need to get fed before I get you started.”
“Get me
started?”
“Yes, yes,
after you eat. Then once you’re stuffed,
we’ll go out and find where your best skills lie. I mean, it wouldn’t make much sense to mix
you in with the X’s when you’re best
suited to fit in with the Y’s, now would it?”
“The X, & Y’s?”
“Yes,
well, I haven’t the time to explain it right now. The morning round up is about to begin & you’ve
yet to eat breakfast. It’s breakfast
first, that’s the way it works around here.
It’s first eat, then, and only then, are you allowed to join the other girls
before they are out the door to work the Saloon & collect all the halfpenny
coppers from them miners that they carry.”
“Half pennies?”
“Yes,
of course, Coppers! That’s the price we
charge the miners who come in day in and day out to sow their wild oats.”
“Now,
come along, Mr. Emilio waits, and with so many hungry girls to feed, he may run
dry of honey & oats before you get there.”
“Yuck! I hate oatmeal.”
“Yah? Do you
hate sweet honey too?”
“Oh,
on, I love sweet honey, I love sweet treats.”
I could never eat enough. Daddy is always saying that he doesn’t know
where I put it all, but do you want to know what?”
“No,”
she laughed, “tell me.”
“He just
feeds me more & more anyway. He just
sticks that big spoon of his right down my throat and doesn’t stop feeding me
until I’m burping it up.”
“Big spoon? She laughed. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a
man’s ‘wang’ referred to as a spoon before, but if
that’s how you like it served up, well, then, your tonsils be damned.”
“But
right now, I think it best we stop the silly chatter and hurry it up. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on all the sweet,
white, thick and pasty gooey & gummy honey that Mr. Emilio is going to fill
your tummy up with, be it by spoon or shovel or however you like it.”
“Sound
good, does it?”
“Oh
yes, I’m starved.”
“I
figured,” she said, as she as tapped Lizzy,
“Oh,
and lest I forget, you absolutely must take these along with you.”
“What
are they?”
“Toothpick! You’re
going to need them!”
“Now,
come along,” she then said as she again took up Elizabeth’s hand and continued
on down the hall and toward the sounds of a ruckus; the sounds of a Honky-Tonk piano playing, beer mugs clashing & men hooting it
up.
And that
ruckus only grew all the louder as they walked on toward the hooting and
hollering and until they happened upon a room that was off to the side that was
fronted by a pair of swinging doors, and above which hung a sign that bore the
name, the ‘Gold Rush Saloon.’
“What a
racket,”
“Yes,
indeed they are a noisy, rambunctious
bunch, but don’t knock it. Those old miners
are the ones who labor the day long digging up all the gold nuggets that keeps this
old mining town running. Now hurry up,
come along, sweetie, we’re almost there.”
“We’re
almost where?”
“Where
you’re suppose to be,” she said, “eating breakfast in the breakfast nook off
the parlor where Mr. Emilio serves up breakfast to the girls before they go out
to work the Saloon.”
“Now
hush,” she then said as she hurriedly advanced toward the parlor, then through
that richly gilded room to the nook beyond where Mr. Emilio plied his trade.
“Edward,
Mr. Emilio,” she sang out, “I’m so glad I caught you. I’ve got one more for you.”
Then
turning toward
“Hello,”
she said to that most unusual looking man. For other than a long handlebar
moustache that made him look the walrus, he wore no pants, nor anything else to
cover up his foot long, pound heavy dong that swayed back and forth between his
knees like a pendulum on a clock.
“Do you
have any left?” she asked, and to wit, he responded by picking up a jar to show
her.
“Well,
that should do!”
“Yes,
indeed. The Saloon was packed to over- flowing with the gold panners who work the Boulder Creek just south of the big
bend. Apparently they stumbled upon a rich dig last night.”
….
Chapter
4
After
breakfast
It was
then, when the sparks in her eyes were so intense as to not be believe, that
Madam Beachum chose to walk in to see if she was
ready for her first ‘call.’ And as things happen, so did a cowboy, a cow
rustler, a tall, ornery looking cow poke stepped in and walked passed her with a
cold, hard, leering look in his eyes.
It was
a mean, nasty, malicious look of a predator that looked to have her on the plate
for dinner. It was a look that caused a shiver to run up her spine, and stirred
up emotions in her she’d never felt before. A sense of smallest, of insignificance,
and worst of all, fear, and a sense of imminent danger!
And
sure enough he stopped, and reached down and pulled her up and out of that
crush velvet seat and took her along with him into the bar.
“A
bottle of Black Jack, barkeep,” he called out as he slapped down a dollar note
for the whiskey, and then pulled out a half-penny from his pocket to pay for
her.
“One
glass or two,” the barkeep asked, as he sat the bottle down atop his table and
picked up the money.
“You’ve
got yourself a sweet little diddy there, cowpoke,” the
barman said. “I know that she looks a
smidgen, but if there be anything I be knowing is that she’s up to giving you a
mighty fine ride.”
“Fuck-off,
buddy,” that ornery looking cowpoke scowled, as he rose up out of his chair, grab
hold of Elizabeth by her little door-knob sized titties,
and pulled her up along with him until she hung atop her tippy-toes.
She squirmed, she wiggled like a worm on a
hook as the tears flowed, yet for all the hurt, nothing caused her more
grievance as when he sought to sit her back down, only this time, atop the neck
of that bottle of Whiskey, then once aligned, he pulled her down until the
words, ‘Black Jack Whiskey’ were buried beneath the grossly expanded lips of
her puss.
“Don’t
you squirm you little worm,” he scowled, as he slapped her upside her head. “Leastwise you be spilling that fine whiskey
and not be drinking it down when I turn you bottom side up.”
In
tears and in agony she whimpered and cried, and then when all looked a doom,
from out of nowhere the bartender jumped over the bar with shotgun in hand.
“Get
out, cowpoke, you ain’t wanted here, he scowled while
pushing the barrow of that gun up against his ear and thusly causing him to
recoil, and as he did, he let loose of Elizabeth, giving her a chance to make a
run for it.
And so she
did; out the door and down the hall, then up another, non-stop, and until she
reach the cellar door through which she has initially emerged from out of her daddy’s
time machine just hours before.
Need I
say how quickly she opened that door, ran back down those stairs, and jumped
back in that machine?
No! In
fact, she did so almost in one motion, blind to all but the need to get that ‘directional
shift’ device threaded back into the dashboard slot, and speed off to who knew
where, nor care, so long as was away from this hell!
And so
she sped off to that place, known only as ‘who-knew-were,’ and watch the time
flicker past as that huge 6’ round embossed & ionized rotating disc spun
around faster & faster as did the sun an the moon and stars above.
And
then in an instant, all that was gone as well, and from out that nothingness a
wondrous sight appeared.
The
sight of vast towers of steel & glass with an air borne expressway of Saucer
shaped vehicles floating past in the air with near synchronistic precision
For all
intents and purposes it looked the perfect world, but within it, she felt a
stranger in a strange land.
But she
hadn’t the time to think about all that right now, given that daddy’s time
machine had come to a stop exact to the spot where a man dressed in a what
looked to be a silver foil suit & a space helmet, stood beside one of those
flying Saucer like cars, though one that was grounded for need of repair.
“Mister,
mister,” she called to the man who looked a spaceman.
“Where
am I?” she asked, sounding a fright.
“Where
are you? You are here, where you’ve
always been. Time machines travel through time not space, you know.”
“Where
is where then?" she asked.
“In ‘Big
Nugget’, sitting in a time machine that looks to be so
old & rickety as to be a hazard.”
“Big Nugget? Can’t be, where are the roaming herds of
“
“Thought
with regard to Boulder Creek, I’m pleased to say that it flows, though now rechanneled to the East of the city.”
“But
that’s not of interest to me right now.
However, what is of interest to me is this old rattle-trap you are
sitting in!
“How old
is this machine anyway?” he posed the question, while kicking a skids on the
machine as he would a tire. “I mean, it has to be at least a thousand years old,
maybe two, though for however old it is, it is most certainly a hazard that
needs to be taken off the street.”
“I’m
sorry young lady, but I’m going to have to impound this thing & get it off
the street.”
“But,
but, but . . .”
“No, buts, young lady. This thing has to be taken off the street, and
for you young lady, if no one is here to speak for you, then it is off to the
sheltered with you.”
“The shelter?”
“Yes,
of course, Gloria Beachum’s ‘Candy House, right here
in ‘Big Nugget.’ Is there any
other?”
“I
mean, the name Beachum’s Candy House and the term ‘home
for the indigent’ are all but synonymous terms, and it says so in the new Encyclopedia,
if not written in scriptures, and it has been so for over a ‘millennium.”
“Beachum? Gloria Beachum?”
“Yes,
long rest her soul. Without her love and
support for the indigent over the years she lived was nothing less than a
miracle.”
“I
mean, from the first day she opened the doors to the indigent to the present
day, it can’t be described as anything less.
And what it was then, it still is today, thanks to the many who have carried on in her footsteps over the past 21,200
years.”
“So,
not to worry little one, it’s a great place to live and thrive.”
“Once more, I’m told that they still
serve up the same great ‘Nut’ soup and ‘Ass Pie’ that they served up eons ago. And wonders upon wonders, every bit of it is
always served up as fresh and warm and tasty as it did the moment the gentleman
stepped up to the cauldron to add their own special spice to the fermenting
brew.
“And, oh, yes, least I forget –
Toothpicks are included!!!”
“Now tell me, how could anyone want
for more?” (J)
----------------------
0 ----------------------
“And the wheel of
time spins around & around, and the dancing ponies
go up and down. We're captive on the
carousel of time
Today our lil’time traveler inhabits the world of the future, and tomorrow
the world of the future past . . . And so time goes, so goes on time traveler,
round & round & up and down …
Das Ende
Bad Robot
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§ § § -------
