Meeting an Alien - Steampunk - Cover

Meeting an Alien - Steampunk

Copyright© 2024 by Duncan Mickloud

Chapter 3: The Duel

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 3: The Duel - MEETING AN ALIEN - STEAMPUNK is a stand-alone coming-of-age story where the main character, Bill Morgan, Tom’s son, is a 15-year-old. Bill ends up on another Earth-like world where many dangers and challenges await him. A large novel slightly affiliated with MEETING AN ALIEN, parts 1 and 2. It IS a separate story with all new characters and a vastly different world. It takes place in a 19th century setting, with an Old-West feel.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   ft   Teenagers   Drunk/Drugged   Mind Control   Teen Siren   Fiction   Fairy Tale   Farming   High Fantasy   Historical   Steampunk   Western   Aliens   Alternate History   Robot   Time Travel   Interracial   White Male   Hispanic Female   Indian Female   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Voyeurism   Big Breasts   Size   Small Breasts   Nudism  

I woke late. I dressed, went next door, and quietly knocked. I did not hear anything, so I went downstairs. My stepmother, Olwinna, was in the dining room enjoying a coffee. I gave her a quick kiss on her cheek.

I said, “Good Morning, Mother.”

She said, “Good Morning, William.”

I sat next to her, and a coffee rapidly appeared when the cook brought it in.

A newspaper had been delivered. I quickly scanned it, and it had nothing of importance in it to me. Cook brought me a bowl of hot wheat cereal. I added butter and salt to it after tasting it. The wheat was al-dente, so it was chewy and not mushy. It was almost tasty. Cook had brought out maple syrup, brown sugar, and some jams.

Although these flavor enhancers would pump up the taste, my own mother had counseled against sugar addiction. Many boys and girls my age drank innumerable sodas daily. It’s common knowledge this is why so many Americans are overweight.

It was easy to see a comparison when I looked at the locals on this planet. I had several days here to digest what I had been seeing. Women dress in an old-fashioned way, yet they usually dress in a semi-sexy manner.

Men dual and fight often, so there are fewer of them through attrition. Every unmarried woman is looking for Mr. Right so they dress to advertise their wares.

Married women, mothers, and widows wore skirts that went just below their knees. Girls and unmarried women had hemlines above the knees. In many cases, the hemlines are well above the knees.

The main article of clothing for women is called The Shift. It is usually white and thin for comfort. It resembles a short-sleeved cotton or linen slip. Often, it is baggy, which allows more air to flow in.

Over it goes the ‘stays,’ a vest-like or bodice-style garment with holes that are laced up the front. Depending on how big the shift neck hole is and how the stays are put on, a little breast may be shown. Sometimes a lot, or sometimes none at all.

Married women rarely show their breasts. High-class women often display open shoulders in polite company but wear a shawl outside the home. This is so the riff-raff don’t gaze at their high-class flesh.

A skirt is usually tied over the shift at the waist using long cloth ribbons. These ribbons are part of the belt material sewn into the top of the skirt. The skirt ties in the back. Since the skirt is mostly one piece, it comes in sizes. It can be a wrap and a quarter, up to two whole wraps around her waist.

A wrap and a quarter skirt can flare open, showing her hips or even buttocks if she moves brazenly. This is because less material was used on purpose to make the skirt more flashy.

Most married women have a bum pillow that plumps up the back side of the skirt. This would be put on before the skirt. A wrap and a quarter skirt will not work with a bum pillow. The pillow would openly allow the display of the woman’s legs and bottom. Bum pillows are reserved for wrap and three-quarters and dual wrap skirts.

A wrap and a quarter or so are usually for the height of summer when it’s pretty hot. Paired with a shorter shift, a woman or girl can get some good air conditioning down below.

Women do not have pocketbooks or purses. They don’t use makeup or need to bother with a lot of the junk modern women in my world do.

An optional pocket is often worn by women underneath their skirts. It’s a large add-on pocket with a belt that is tied so the pocket is on the left. A slit in the skirt on the left allows access to the pocket underneath. The pocket is put on before the skirt. So it is underneath the skirt.

The pocket is more of a temporary storage place for useful items. If she is sewing, she may put her needle and thimble inside the pocket while getting her husband’s coffee.

A woman may also wear an apron which will be tied in front over the skirt.

As women do not wear underpants, they need to be careful in their everyday life. Women cannot wear underpants. It prevents them from efficiently accessing themselves when visiting the outhouse.

The outhouses are serviced by criminals. The criminals go from outhouse to outhouse, emptying the pots that collect pee and poo. There are usually pairs of pots in the outhouses. One for each excrement number. As an example, in a double outhouse, there are two pairs of pots, and each pair is accessed by its own door.

Below the skirt are stockings. Women’s stockings are held up with cloth ribbons that are tied below the knee. The type of stocking, the length, and the ribbons are all important. They are a necessity but also partly a fashion statement.

Short silk stockings with colorful ribbons are done to draw the eye to the woman’s more enticing areas.

Add an open shift at the neck and looser stays in her bodice, and you can tell this girl wants a man, and she wants him soon.

Women wear shoes or short boots. Slipper-style shoes are generally used indoors. Short boots and long boots are available for other purposes.

When at home, women usually wear more comfortable items. Women spend a lot of time changing clothes.

Then there are the materials. Vests and skirts of wool are more common in winter. Everyday wear the rest of the year is often cotton. Fine cotton for middle class and upper class. Rough cotton is for the lower class. Silk is used by the very rich. If you see silk in vivid colors, you know they are loaded with money. That silk came around the world from China and was transshipped from England to here.

Men wear longer nightshirts at night and shorter daytime shirts during the day. These are usually white and thin. Daytime shirts may have ruffles and buttons. A gentleman wears a vest and a coat over that. A youth may wear either or both.

Below the waist, there are two choices; Scotsmen prefer a kilt. Other men wear breaches, which are pants that end just below the knee.

Breaches have a wide flap with three buttons on each side. They button up the flap. When the flap is lowered to piss, you can see two buttons that connect the waist pieces together at the front. A set of braces or suspenders is usually worn to hold the breaches up. Braces and suspenders are built differently but have the same function.

Style can be varied by color or thread quality using cotton, linen, silk, or wool.

Men typically wear laced low shoes or boots. There are many styles of boots for men depending greatly on your occupation and wealth.

Mum told me the two servants are Scottish. Caitir Deòir is the maid and 17. Cairistìne MacNia is the cook, and she is 42 years old. She is a chubby woman. Scottish servants are considered two steps above blacks and one above Irish.

The scary part is we have a Scottish cook. The Scots are not known for their fine cuisine. I would find out I was wrong about Cairistìne. She grew up and learned her trade here in Williamsburg and soon proved she was an excellent cook.

I told Mum I was going to take a walk and see what there was to see. I didn’t need to. I had a map of the whole town in my head, including my own walking street-level view of the whole area.

I knew walking around would stick the map on my mind better, so I needed to see it for myself.

There is a river to the southwest and train tracks to the northeast. The main town is in the middle, with four avenues. They run roughly a tilted north-south path following the rivers. There are eighteen streets, mainly running east to west.

The William and Mary school environs are East of the town proper. Open areas north, south, and east outside of the town areas are mostly farms and forest areas.

I knew all this while looking at my version of g00gle maps last night as I fell asleep. Seeing is believing, so I wanted to put my eye on the town so I knew where to look for things.

I knew I could just ask my AI, Ox. Seeing things also triggered thoughts and memories later.

William and Mary is between the James and York rivers on a peninsula. The same peninsula as Hampton. I compared it to our William and Mary College, and it was completely different. That town was laid out in an east-west direction, with Williamsburg East of the college. This college is 3 miles north of Williamsburg and has a small village confusingly also called William and Mary.

I ambled about for a while, taking in the sights.

On a narrow walkway, there were people in front of me looking into a shop, and I heard someone coming behind me. I had to stop for them.

I heard, “Outta my way, asshole,” and I felt a fist hit my kidneys. It would have likely really hurt a normal guy. I turned and punched him as hard as I could right on his nose.

I then realized he had a couple of buddies right behind him. They looked like they wanted to take a swing, but their big buddy went down like a sack of potatoes. He was in their way. They looked between him and me a few times when someone ran up.

“Say, what’s going in here?”

I said, “This coward punched me in the kidneys for no reason. This gentleman here and his lady had stopped a moment when he attacked me. I do not know who he is, but he tried to hurt me badly.”

He said, “Coward, you say. Do you know who he is?”

I said, “I can’t know everyone, and I don’t care one bit who he happens to be. He’s a chicken-livered coward for attacking a younger man from behind. Does that sound brave or cowardly to you?” I glowered at him.

Several onlookers agreed by shaking their heads affirmatively and agreeing ‘Yes’ with me.

He said, “I am a constable, I’m Griff Owen. This is Pól Mac Cana. He’s thought to be the best duelist in this area.”

I said, “That’s nice, let’s hope he’s actually not the best dualist.”

He said, “You’re big, but you seem young for this.”

I said, “Me? I had nothing to do with this, Constable Owen. He attacked me from behind; there are several witnesses.”

My AI chirped in, “They don’t do anything in matters of honor. The constable is of no use to you.”

The constable said, “Won’t matter. When he wakes up, he will challenge you. Nothing I can do about it; this is about honor.”

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