Joanna in Time - 1963

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

I trudged out of the lecture hall on a dismal November afternoon feeling like something the cat had just refused to drag in. I was down to my last two Pounds to keep myself for a week, the washing was piled high in the bathroom, my bag was packed sold with homework projects, and my hair needed washing.
I started walking towards home, half a mile in the miserable rain when a scruffy little saloon pulled up beside me and a face peered out of the half open window, "Let me offer you a lift he," called out, "You look a touch damp."
I nodded and mumbled "Thanks, I could use that."  Clambering in, I tossed my bag in the back. "Your William aren't you? I've seen you in the canteen."
"That's me." He smiled and his plain looking face took on a much better appearance. I wouldn't call him much of a looker, but he wasn't going to put me off getting a lift home in the rain. "You're Joanna aren't you? Or do you prefer Jo?"
"I don't mind. I'm the next street on the left."
As we eased into the kerb I thought it would be mean not to show some appreciation so I offered him a cup of coffee. He accepted with alacrity, so before either of us made any decisions we were sitting on my well worn settee sipping hot coffee and I was trying to dry off my short dark hair with a tiny hand towel.
We exchanged reminiscences about how we were doing this year and it seemed that he had some part time work for Professor Beacon in the History faculty. It seemed to pay well and it crossed my mind that I just might be able to get an intro if there were any more hours going. I didn't broach it then but tucked the idea away for future reference. I lit the gas fire and we snuggled up for warmth which inevitably turned into an almost casual pass as he slid one hand under my sweater any gently massaged my breast. As I more readily grew to accept his approach I responded to his kiss, then played with his ears and allowed myself to drift into a haze of comfort.
"Look, I don't know how to put this," he started to say, "I don't want you to take it the wrong way, but tonight I am completely knackered and I'm not really up to doing you justice. I didn't get more than an hours sleep last night and it's catching up with me."
"The one thing I do have is nice big comfortable bed. You're welcome to a share to save you from that downpour out there. I've even get some pajamas somewhere."
"You don't know how good that sounds," he almost croaked, "I'll make it up to you later, I promise."
Early the next morning we were still spooned together for comfort when I felt his hands stroking me softly all over. I was feeling in the mood, having recovered from my earlier depression, so I reached behind my hips and slid my hand into the front of his shorts. (he had refused my offer of night attire). He was already fully erect and eager to take things further, so I rolled over and slid out of my frilly little teddy.
First his hands, then his lips explored my breasts and rapidly hardening nipples, then his fingers fell to my hips and he pushed me over onto my back. I could feel the passion rising through my belly as he probed my pussy lips apart and stroked his tongue up and down my tender exposed girlie flesh. He then concentrated on my rapidly hardening clitoris and with quick flicking actions he had me quivering on the point of a climax in less than twenty seconds.
"No, not yet," I gasped, "Let's make it last a bit longer, why don't you turn over and I'll give you a rest." I had never tried Fellatio before but had often wondered what it would be like, usually when I was hot and bubbling in the final stages of masturbation. This was going to be my introduction to the full act since I was now primed and keen. I took the head of his cock between my fingers and carefully pressed it down, watching in fascination as the foreskin rolled back to expose the bright red organ beneath. The aroma filled my nostrils as I touched the very tip with my tongue, relishing the excitement of my first venture in this activity. He gasped as I opened my mouth wide and slid it carefully over the length of his throbbing organ, not stopping until I felt it tickle the back of my throat. Easing back until I just had the head between my lips I licked the underside enthusiastically feeling the sensitive focal point of his erection quiver gently. I must admit that I got carried away at this point and decided to give him the best ejaculation ever, so I worked my lips up and down his prick as fast as I could, slashing my tongue from side to side on the underside of the throbbing organ. The final act that sent him over the edge was when I rubbed my fingers over his scrotum and squeezed his balls. That did it. His hips jerked upwards despite his efforts to control them and I felt his spunk rising up the length of his penis. Determined to miss nothing I clamped my lips tight around the head of his organ and swallowed frantically as my mouth filled to the brim with his hot pulsing sperm. The excitement of the moment made my thighs twitch in sympathy and I had I violent climax myself long before his erection subsided.
"Bloody hell, what are you doing down there? I've never felt anything like that before. You must have had a hell of a lot of practice to pull a trick like that."
I found that I was blushing furiously so I buried my face in his belly and mumbled, "Not really, I just seem to empathise with peoples feelings pretty well, so I know what you are feeling. It is the first time I have tried that. Was it really that good?"
"Bloody marvelous," Billy replied, "Look, you seem a pretty well with-it sort of girl, would you be interested in doing some historical investigations with me? It sounds really far out when you start but you soon get used to the idea."
"What's it all about?" I queried, "Does it pay well, what are the hours, look, why don't you just lay it all out for me."
"I think the best idea is if you come down to the Prof's study one evening and let him tell you about it. It's his project and he might not want you in it. It just feels right to me." I thought it over carefully for one and a half seconds then offered, "Right, how about tonight?"
Being an adventurous sort of lass I was taken on right away and primed for the next event in the historian's experiments concerning Temporal Translations as they were called. The explanations were extensive and I tried to follow the layman's version of how Prof had managed to record a subjects brain pattern, and lay it over another person's libido from another time and location. The general gist of the current project was based on one of their preoccupations that the assassination of Robert Kennedy did untold damage to the space exploration plans. They were quite sure that we could somehow change history by saving the Presidents life, possibly by me being inserted into the ego of the first lady, it would be up to me to carry it out by having the fore-knowledge of the attack. I honestly was not convinced but I promised to give it my best shot. Almost as an afterthought they suggested that one of the Senators, a Charlie Spicer from the same area was suspected of being a pedophile, so if I had some spare time it might be a moral gesture to check him out, assuming it fitted in with my activities.
After going through the same preparations that William had received previously, I was given a final set of instructions including not to lose control of any situation, never endanger my host body, and remember that I would automatically be returned in exactly twenty four hours. I woke the following morning feeling strangely relaxed, but as I tried to stretch out, I suddenly realised that I was not alone in this huge King sized bed. A soft masculine hand slid down over my hip and gently stroked my right thigh, almost immediately followed by the squirming fingers insinuating themselves between my legs. My first thought was for time out, so I whispered softly, "Hang on a moment, I need the can." I only then realised that the words sounded wrong - I never have used American expressions like that but they sounded fine for the situation.
I found the bathroom, flipped on the lights, and had a good look in the mirror over the basin. It was unbelievable; there was no question that I was Jacqueline Kennedy down to the fine wrinkles around the eyes. Pulling open the satin nightgown I cast a critical eye over the body in which I found myself. Good flat belly I was pleased to see, there must have been some working out to hold that after several children, and no stretch marks. The boobs were pretty good too; a lot larger than I was accustomed to, but very little sagging and gorgeous large dark nipples. Just out of curiosity I lifted myself up onto my toes and bounced several times down onto my heels just for the sensation of feeling my breasts shake about, it was delicious. It occurred to me that I could have fun in a shape like this, and I had the authority to go with it. I strolled back into the bedroom after flushing the toilet and stood beside the bed to study the other occupant. Sure enough it was the great J.F. himself, tousled haired, rippling muscles, and still half asleep.
"Get that sweet little ass in here kiddo." He mumbled and pulled open the sheets, "I feel in need of some hot fucking about now, what do you say?"
The glimpse I had of his mighty cock pushing up out of a thick patch of pubic hair set me up immediately so I tossed off my nightgown and slid beneath the sheets. After a quick cuddle I was pushed towards the head of the bed and rolled onto my knees.
"Give me a long slow taste of your pretty little fanny," he begged, "It's been too long between drinks for that spot of fun." Then he slid his face in between my thighs, grasped my hips firmly, and pushed his eager tongue deep into my rapidly moistening vagina. He was obviously very experienced in this area since he had me bordering on a climax in seconds, and however hard I struggled he kept on working my pussy.
"Please, put it in me. I need to feel you filling me. I can't hold on much longer."
He paused just long enough to say, "Go on then, let her rip. We have plenty of time for more." Then he was back teasing my throbbing cunt lips, flicking over my hot little clit, pushing into the depths of my vagina, even probing the puckered opening to my anus. I exploded into a screaming climax that I was sure would bring the security guards in, and continued gasping and groaning as he pushed me towards another cascade of pleasure. I reached behind my bouncing rump to take his twitching cock between my fingers and frantically masturbated him to persuade the over enthusiastic lover to give me a good fucking, but it only pushed him to renewed heights. 
I was on the point of collapse when he finally grasped my thighs and with no apparent effort, lifted me down to impale me onto his rigid organ. The torrent of juices seeping from my frantic pussy let him slide full length up my canal until the head of his monstrous tool bottomed against my cervix, where he held on tightly as I throbbed through yet another orgasm. At this point I lost track of what he was doing as he made long, slow, and deliberate strokes into the heat of my belly, ignoring my pleadings to allow me to help. I do have a vague recollection between orgasmic contractions, of him dipping a finger into the slippery liquids oozing down my thighs and gently pushing it into the depths of my butt. Eventually I felt the flood of hot juices pump into my belly and the pair of us sank into a squirming oblivion of sleep.
The bright sun awoke us some time later and I was surprised by the fact that I felt quite comfortable in my unexpected role already and had no trouble joining my man in the shower and preparing for breakfast. While we were getting ready to leave the hotel room John took a small parcel from his bag and said conspiratorially, "This is likely to be another boring old day for you, you know. I have something here that'll take your mind off the tedium. See what you think." He pulled out what looked like a pair of plain cotton panties wrapped around something odd, and as I shook them out for a closer look I saw that there was a large rubber dildo stitched inside the garment.
"You don't expect me to wear that do you, not outside in public. I'd curl up at the thought."
"I think it would be a real kick." He replied, "It would certainly turn me on to know that all those envious eyes you keep getting would never guess you had a huge moist dildo pushed up your eager little pussy. Suppose you try it for me just today to see how you feel."
He reached around me and cupped my breasts gently. "Pretty please." He whispered into my ear as he rolled my nipples carefully. I ask you, what woman could resist that. "O.K. but none of your sneaky innuendoes to the local senators then." I demanded, and slid the strange garment on carefully pushing the huge rubber insert deep into my vagina. It made walking difficult at first but it wasn't long before I felt confident that nobody would notice my slightly odd gait.
Once down in the underground car park the bodyguards shepherded us into the back of the massive limo and we cruised smoothly out towards the council offices where we were expected for a formal luncheon. While waving to the crowds lining the route, John reached round my waist and I felt him fumble for a tiny protrusion on the waistband of my special knickers. When he eventually managed to press it I was shocked to discover that the intruder tucked inside my hot little pussy was fitted with a powerful vibrator, and I was helpless to protect myself against the insidious titillation being generated deep inside my sexual organs.
"Mr President, sir, I must protest. You don't know what you are doing." I blurted out. He laughed out loud, "I can guess. The look on your face is a picture. I wonder whether the TV cameras would pick it up." I felt myself blushing as I rushed to a second climax with the dreadful machine showing no signs of slowing down. I squirmed around on the leather seat trying to find a position that would give me some relief but there wasn't one, I just had to ride with it.
It suddenly occurred to me as we swung out of a round-about and towards an overhead bridge why I was actually here. Off to the right was the over publicized Grassy Knoll and we were on the spot where the infamous assassination took place. I almost panicked, and shouted out to John "Here, listen to this. You must hear it." It was the only thing to come to mind as I grabbed his head and heaved it down into my lap. I was almost too late since at that very instant a loud crack caused his right shoulder to explode before my eyes, and in quick succession two more bullets slammed onto the car, one hitting the back of the drivers seat and the second finding it's mark in the senator in the passenger's seat. The actions that followed blurred into a haze as I ducked on top of John, one of the bodyguards threw himself onto both of us, and the driver smashed his foot to the floor to escape. I managed to yell "The President's been hit." Before we screamed round a corner and raced towards the local hospital. In less than two minutes we had lurched to a standstill outside the Emergency entrance and medicos were swarming all over us, heaving John onto a gurney, lifting the obviously dead Senator from the front seat, and pulling me clear. I was smothered in blood, but once I had convinced them it wasn't mine and I was physically unhurt, they allowed me to head for the showers. I nearly cried when I saw the state of my all time favorite little powder blue suit, it was beyond resurrection but I managed to borrow a change of clothes from an understanding nurse. By the time that I had stopped shaking, got rid of that infernal toy, and worked over my face, I was ready to check with the surgeons. They assured me that the Presidents injuries, although serious, were not life threatening, and after he had slept off the anesthetic by tomorrow morning, he would be fit for a visit as long as I didn't worry him. That was a laugh, me worry him under these conditions. The one thing that elated me no end was something that nobody else would appreciate. I had succeeded, the course of history would now be changed, although for better or worse we could not yet anticipate.
A couple of tranquilisers later I decided to have a crack at the other half of my proposed mission, that was to take care of this character who was preying on young girls over on the other side of town. I had a glance in a full length mirror as I turned to leave and promised to buy that nurse a decent outfit before we left, the clothing I had borrowed looked as if it had come from the charity store. Come to think about it, it would be an excellent disguise. After sneaking down the back stairs and out of the porter's entrance, it was easy to call a cab and give an address one street away from my suspect's house. A few steps around the corner and I was confronted by a huge old mansion, probably built soon after the civil war, and looking as if it hadn't been painted since. As I knocked on the front door it swung open, so I stepped inside calling out, "Charlie, are you home, I just wanted a quick word."
The door slammed shut behind me, and as I turned I caught my first glimpse of this rogue character who was causing so much trouble. He was huge, at least six feet eight tall and had muscles in places other men didn't even have places. He stood eyeing me up and down, with his hands on his hips, and finally spoke. "I can't believe it. Is it really you Jacqueline? You can't imagine how much I am pleased to see you. My buddies are never going to believe it."
"This is an off the record visit you know Charlie. I have just been asked to have a word in your ear about these rumors that are going around. I don't know how to put it. Have you really been associating with these young girls or is it just ugly stories?"
"Oh no, I have had a few friends down here. Perhaps I'd better tell you about us. Have a seat while we chat."
We sat around a coffee table and he passed over a beer that I sipped nervously.
"It's like this," He continued, "Three others and myself have this sort of club going, we collect pictures and films of various people and exchange them. We each have our idea of a perfect entertainment and we try to score as close as possible to the best scenario. Mine for example is Marilyn Monroe, and if I ever had the chance to get her, or somebody just like her downstairs for a few hours, you can't imagine what I would do with that gorgeous soft white body."
I sat in stunned silence at his horrific tales as he continued.
"Bill in Atlanta on the other hand invariably fantasizes about you. He thinks it would be heaven on earth to take you down a peg from your highbrow set and see what you are like as a woman. I'm going to see what I can do to satisfy him, with the aid of a camera of course."
By now I was becoming more terrified by the minute as it occurred to me that as an interloper just using Jacqueline's persona I could not pass this situation onto my unwilling host as I always anticipated, but would have to handle the situation myself. My first thought was to run. I eased myself to my feet and started edging towards the door saying, "Well, perhaps some other time you can tell me about it."
"You are joking," he replied, " There is no way you're getting out of here like that." And to prove his point he sprung over the low table, pushed me against the wall and grabbed both of my wrists in one hand. I had guessed that he would be strong but never to this level, I was completely helpless as he fastened two leather straps joined together with a short chain, around my wrists. Without seeming to exert himself he dragged me through the back door and down a flight of steps into what had once been a wine cellar.
"Now, where shall we start? Perhaps with a little lift, hey. I think this will keep you out of mischief." Which was demonstrated by his hooking my chain onto a rope hanging from the rafters and hauling me up until my arms were stretched above my head. He then pulled a heavy four-foot length of timber over to my position and proceeded to strap my ankles to holes bored in each end. As he pulled them tight my feet were dragged so wide apart that I was lifted from the ground and totally helpless. Needless to say I was petrified with fear and could only resort to begging him to release me. He even stifled this move by forcing a large rubber ball gag into my mouth and strapped it securely in place. His next move was obvious but even more fearful for what it anticipated. He took a huge knife from a bench off too one side and proceeded to cut and tear every scrap of clothing from my defenseless body.
"Ah yes," he chuckled to himself, "Every bit as succulent as I expected. I'll bet you can get any man to do whatever you want if you flash these gorgeous boobs, can't you?" He demonstrated by slapping both of my naked breasts hard, leaving red marks from his fingers under them, then tormented them further by pinching each nipple and bouncing them up and down vigorously. I could do nothing but twist my head back and forth and make helpless little groans in the back of my throat. 
He left me for a few minutes while he set up a movie camera directly in front of my bound position and started it running. He unbuckled his jeans, hooked his fingers under the belt and pushed them to the ground before grasping his half-hard prick and lifting it up towards me. He pushed back the foreskin to display the purple head, glistening with pre-cum juices, then muttered almost to himself, "This is going to be a good one, up to the hilt in her tight little bum-hole." He proceeded to masturbate quite slowly at first, then with growing speed and enthusiasm as he reached maximum rigidity and was trembling with tension. Stopping abruptly, he went around behind me and lasciviously fondled my quivering buttocks.
"What a great ass you have too. I wonder whether you have really used as it was meant to be used. Have you ever tried a really big cock up your tight little butt? Well, this is your lucky day." He slid a massive forefinger down the crack of my buttocks and probed into the anal opening. My gargled screams and twisting limbs did nothing to defend my poor mistreated body from his viscous depredations. By applying brute force he finally managed to ram the tip of his digit inside my virginal bumhole and twisted it around. He then gave me violent finger fucking with no more lubricant than a brief spit to get it started. "You're going to have to open up a lot more than that to get my horny great prick up there." He declared, "I think you are going to need some persuading. How about a nice set of fishing hooks where they hurt most."
He took a selection of large hooks from an old tin box and held the first one up against my right nipple. I couldn't take my eyes from it as he forced it right through my sensitive aureole at the base of my teat and then gave it a hard tug. The waves of pain surging through my tortured breast almost caused me to pass out, but he was not finished. With barely a pause he took a second hook and rammed it into my left nipple in exactly the same way. A trickle of blood slowly made it's way down the curve of my tits as he stood back to admire his work. "Very nice indeed, now for the piece de resistance. This will really hurt, but I do so enjoy it." He collected an even larger hook and knelt in front of my wide spread legs. Using two fingers he pressed apart the lips of my pussy and probed around my vaginal opening. Then reaching higher, he pushed back the hood over my tender clitoris and pinched the little bud between his finger and thumb. Pulling it out an agonising distance, he lined up the third hook and very slowly and deliberately, he hooked it through the most sensitive spot of my body. The agony was so intense I did pass out until he threw a cup of water over my face, and even then I teetered on the edge of consciousness for minutes. After taking a moment to tie the three hooks together with a single piece of fishing line, he then went back behind me and muttered in my ear, "Now we'll see how determined you are to keep me out of your ass. Before you know it you will be begging me to sodomise you to take the pain off your cunt."
I felt him move close behind me and the tip of his truly massive rigid prick slide up and down my ass crack before prodding squarely against my tightly clenched anus. "O.K. girlie, here it comes ready on not." With this comment his muscular hips thrust forward and he simultaneously reached round my body to grab the fishing lines and twist on them viciously. The agony of my most sensitive spots being dragged towards each other in this terrible way overpowered my overloaded defense actions and I unwillingly relaxed my sphincter muscle for just an instant. It was enough to let the monstrous invader force it's way through and I felt the bloated head of his cock lodge inside my rectum. I remember very little of the next ten minutes, luckily for my sanity I believe, as he proceeded to fuck me in this diabolical manner. At one point I do remember trying to force the monstrous intruder out, but only succeeded in opening up my ravaged sphincter muscle further to give him easier access. My agony, and the grip of my previously unpenetrated rectum ensured that his sodomising couldn't last long, and he eventually fucked me to the stage where he couldn't hold back any longer. With a mighty heave he thrust the swollen head of his cock up to the hilt with his balls rammed against my pussy lips and held it there as he jerked jet after jet of hot sperm into the depths of my ass. After what seemed an age he slid his half-hard member out of my bowels and let me hang from my chain half conscious.
As I recovered my shattered wits I noticed him laying out some implements on the bench, then he went to the camera in front of my position and kneeling down for better access, he loaded a new roll of film into the holder. It suddenly occurred to me that my only chance of making an escape was right now while he was distracted. Feeling the weight of the large wooden beam that was forcing my legs wide apart, it seemed that I could use it as a weapon. Taking a firm grip on the chain above my head, I thrust my left ankle down and back and heaved with every scrap of my remaining strength to kick out at his head. Here I at last had a stroke of luck. As my foot came rearing up in line with his shoulders, he rose to his feet and the end of the heavy timber spreader crashed into his head just above his right ear. He dropped like the proverbial log and I was quite convinced that I had killed him outright.
Now I had the problem of releasing myself from my terrible bondage, but since I was no longer in a panic situation, it turned out easier than I expected. By heaving myself up hand over hand I grabbed the hook from which I was suspended and pushed the chain links clear and dropped to the floor. Blessing Jacqueline's fitness I had no trouble reaching each ankle and freeing my legs followed by the ball gag and the obnoxious wrist straps and manacles. Before making a run for the door I checked on Charlie to see if he was quite dead, and was shocked to discover that he had a strong pulse and was breathing almost normally. He was one tough cookie so I made up my mind to finish my project by making sure that he didn't interfere with any more young girls.
After fitting the manacles to his wrists, I added a second half hitch to prevent him escaping the way I had, and then hauled him into a position sitting upright under the pulley. Making use of a vehicle towing strap, I tied it around one of his knees and passed it around his back and under the other one. Then, with my knee in his back, I pulled the strap as tight as I could and tied it off securely. This left him with his legs folded up and his knees spread wide and tucked under his armpits. With the aid of the geared winch I then managed to haul him up until his belly was level with my shoulders, no mean feat considering his weight.
A refrigerator supplied me with a few ice cubes that I used on my tortured body to relieve the pain, then I cut the barbed ends off the hooks with a pair of side cutters and eased them out of my flesh. I then threw a pail of cold water into Charlie's face to revive him so that he would understand everything that was going on.
"I've got three bits of news for you Charlie boy, and they're all bad. Even very bad you might say." I told him, speaking quite loud to be sure he heard over his own groans. "Firstly you have been putting this where you shouldn't," I said, slapping his now limp prick with the tips of my fingers, "So it occurred to me that a prompt circumcision might deter you at least for a short time." I showed him the long nose pliers and box cutter I had taken from the bench, and then accompanied by ever increasing screams from my terrified victim, I started to work on his penis. I pushed back his foreskin, put one jaw of the pliers onto the prick head, pulled the foreskin forward over the jaw, then closing the tool hard I pulled it away from his body. His entire body was squirming and trembling as he watched the knife blade approach his manhood but was quite unable to do anything to defend himself. Unhurriedly I made a slice down the foreskin beside the pliers right past the head of his cock, then sideways around the shaft until the piece came away. There was less blood than I expected, just a small trickle, even when I took a second grip on the other half of the mutilated piece of flesh and cut that away as well. A combination of pain, trauma, and probably concussion had made him pass out again, so after destroying the camera and both rolls of film to protect myself, I then doused him with another pail of cold water.
"Wakey, wakey you useless hooligan, that was the easiest part. Now it gets worse. I found this little tool in your drawer and I've been making guesses how to use it, would you like to demonstrate?" I held up the implement and he shut his eyes tightly and turned his head in horror at what I had found. It was a steel tube, slightly larger than his erect prick with a mass of holes all over it. Laying beside it was wooden rod like a piece of broom handle, and when the rod was pushed into the hollow tube every hole extruded a sharp needle about half an inch. My first thought was that it could be used as a rather mean dildo, but under the present circumstances it seemed like an interesting anal probe. As I smeared it with spit and prodded the steel tube up against his convulsing rectum he started begging.
"My god, no, please not that, I'll do anything you say." He went on and on as I twisted and pushed it deeper and deeper into his body, stretching his sphincter wider than it had ever been and burrowing right into his belly. Eventually the last of the holes vanished inside his butt and I reached for the actuating rod. I nosed it in gently at first to force the first couple of pins out into his flesh, then as the pain made him gasp in horror, I smashed my hand against the rod and rammed it home driving every sharp little spike into his internal organs, causing him at least as much agony as he had put me through just a short time ago.
 I didn't bother to revive him this time, since I had discovered the long-term cure for his pedophilic activities. In the cabinet at the end of the basement I had found some bricklaying tools including a bottle of cleaning acid which I knew to be extremely corrosive. I next took two short lengths of string, tied a slip knot in each, circled them around each testicle and pulled them tight. He was half-conscious as I filled a hypodermic syringe with the acid, plunged it deep into one of his balls and injected the fluid irretrievably into the gland. Once I had operated on the other one in the same way and I heard his rising cries and groans as the acid burned into his testicles, I was quite certain that this would be the best possible castration imaginable to put an end to his preying on defenseless young girls.
As I rescued sufficient clothing to get me back to the hospital it occurred to me that being found like this would probably be worse for him than leaving him to struggle for hours, so I dialed the emergency number on his house phone, put the handset down onto the table without answering and made my way out of the house.
I had no trouble sneaking in the back way at the hospital using the same door that I had left ajar, and was cleaning myself up when a surgeon came in to tell me I could pay a quick visit to "The President" if I wished, but not to excite him. By now I had had a decent change of clothes delivered so was almost back to my usual relaxed self, ready to play the part of a hospital visitor. John was almost back to his old self already; giving me a quiet grope as we chatted about the appalling attempted assassination and what we planned to do next. I begged off after a quarter of an hour, pleading that I was feeling a little tired (in reality totally exhausted), and promising to see him in the morning.
Next morning of course I was back in Oxford lying out on the Prof's couch awaiting the dreaded debriefing we had to go through. As I awoke he was leafing through a manila folder holding a blank piece of paper. "Can't understand it, I'm sure I noted down everything we had set up for you to have a crack at. It should be here."
I jumped in quickly before he could get too involved with the questions.
"First off please, you've got to tell me. Is President Kennedy dead or did I waste my time&#61503;" I pleaded with him.
"What JFK. Of course he's dead. You should know, I saw you at the World Wide Requiem down at the chapel. Don't tell me you've forgotten, it was only three years ago."
"But, - what about the assassination attempt, didn't it happen&#61503;"
"What, that '63 thing&#61503; Oh they tried but it takes a lot more than a nutter to put down a man like that. Just as well that bullet did miss, we wouldn't be here using all of the benefits of Mars base industries if old JFK hadn't pushed the programme through back in '69, or was it `70&#61503;" 


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

