Chapter 1

Maureen was shy with boys but in every other area of interest her curiosity often got her into hot water when she got in over her head. Her parents were older than most of her friend's parents and she wondered why that was the case politely asking in a respectful voice but they didn't respond to her questioning telling her,

"Don't you be making fun of your mama and daddy just because we are a bit older than most."

She promptly forgot all about the entire affair until that fateful day at the end of June when she found herself alone in the lab at school working on a difficult assignment to alter the natural state of objects. She had reached the conclusion that such nonsense was a complete waste of time but wasn't quite sure on how to terminate the experiment without hurting her 4.0 grade point average or offending Professor Adams who seemed determined to solve the riddle. The mess on the table in front of her was so offensive that she was tempted just to sweep it all off onto the floor and let it run into the scuppers ready to drain any liquid residue into pipes that led into a hazardous waste drum in the basement.

Tommy Johnson came into the lab and saw immediately her mood. She could tell from his nervous tic under his left eye that he was considering a quick escape but she invited him in closer just like the proverbial "Spider and the Fly". Tommy was a nice boy and she was not shy with him. In fact, he had even gotten to second base with her in the lab supply closet the previous week and that was an accomplishment for any male close enough to speculate about taking a dip in her honey.

Since they were entirely alone with little chance of interruption, she took the opportunity to tease young Mister Johnson by asking him to check her eyes for some foreign object that was preventing her from taking a good reading from the microscope on the table. Thus it was that she fell into the position of being crushed against the edge of the lab table with oodles of long cock pressing into her nubile pussy mound with some degree of enthusiasm. She was more interested in exploring the limits of Tommy's kissing expertise which she noticed had been improving of late. Maureen wondered if he was getting some late night practice from his plain looking cousin who was visiting from the outlands of Canada for the remainder of the school year. She was a dreary thing prone to daydreaming and more often than not would gaze vacantly when asked even the simplest of questions. Even her name was a contradiction because she was not in the least like a "Rose" with a totally colorless personality.

It surprised Maureen that young Mister Johnson was bold enough to reach second base quickly and was actually attempting to round third with his busy hands underneath her skirt. She was glad she had worn the shaping bottoms because they were defending her honor much more vigorously than her weakened attitude with a yen for discovering the joys of intercourse before she got too old to enjoy it. Next month she would be the ripe old age of twenty-one and she felt the risk of remaining an "old maid" looming in her future unless she took some drastic action.

She allowed the impetuous boy to boost her up on the table right in the midst of the failed experiment and yank down her last line of defense right down to her ankles. She concentrated on keeping her flowing red hair out of the goo and let Tommy address her slit with his overheated tool in his pathetic fumbling manner. He was so inept, she contemplated ending the entire experiment but some vague motivation kept her silent and she let him continue in his unskilled attentions.

Soon he got the message and started to press forward into her already wet and ready slit like he knew what he was doing and was in control of the situation. His cock was poised right at her entryway and she realized that this was going to be the end of her virginal status forever.

Right at the moment of truth, the room started to literally spin and she felt like she was being drawn into a whirlpool of jumbled flying chaos with her undies down and her pussy bared for viewing by one and all like some silly strumpet seeking coins from any passerby. She wanted to shout out and tell Tommy that perhaps this was not a good time due to the earthquake or the hurricane or whatever, but no sound came out of her mouth. Well, perhaps it did come out of her mouth but she couldn't hear it and that confused her most of all. It was like she was drugged by some unknown concoction and unable to change her confused circumstance.

The loss of her impalement opportunity was annoying but she was more incensed over the fact that her clothing was soaked through by the failed experiment and she was beginning to suspect the concoction had caused her radical relationship to reality and everything around her. Tommy was disappeared and the lab was now disintegrated into molecules of sporadic voids and lights all streaming in a spiral sweeping her along like some recalcitrant passenger on a journey of cosmic dimension.

It spewed her out on her bare backside on a strangely cobblestoned sidewalk recently washed by a spring shower that still had the rain running along the curb into mysterious drains in the gutter.

"What an efficient drainage system" was her thought but she was brought back to reality by the fact some bystanders were laughing at her bare bum with a hint of derisive and offensive tone in their chatter. She rose and pulled up her "shaping" panty making her immediately decent and shipshape once more for public display. The strangers wandered away losing interest in a boring female of no import.

She looked at the streetlamp and knew instinctively that she was no longer in the twenty-first century. This place looked more like a time and place several hundred years in the past. The signs on the stores also clued her in that she was no longer at the State University just outside of Tucson, Arizona but in the lands of her forebears, jolly old England.

A pockmarked old woman shouted at her from a nearby doorway.

"This be my spot, dearie, you'll have to move on or I will give your slit a new entrance with my hairpin. Maureen had no difficulty in translating that piece of communication as it was delivered in plain English even if a bit stilted and with a novel emphasis on improper syllables. She did indeed move across the street and down a narrow alley until she reached a place that seemed conveniently located from her viewpoint. It was suspiciously like a dreamland of messages from her sub-conscious but she knew she was not dreaming from the pain in her left ankle sustained from her landing on the hard stones on the ground.