House
Chapter 11: Alarm! Alarm! Alarm!

Copyright© 2012 by Old Man with a Pen

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 11: Alarm! Alarm! Alarm! - On an exploratory road trip to the east coast I found the perfect home in New Hampshire. Now, if I could buy it I'd be happy...If I could find someone to sell it...If I could find out who owns it...and what about the fine red lines surrounding the house when it's foggy? Why do most of the old men look alike and why are the women young, buxom, blond and beautiful. But, most of all, what casts the shadows on the windows?

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Consensual   Mind Control   Drunk/Drugged   Magic   Science Fiction   Time Travel   Humor   Extra Sensory Perception   Space   Mystery   Spanking   Light Bond   Orgy   Harem   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting   Slow   Nudism  

He never did cuff me, or search me. He took me out in the country and leaned over the seat with his service revolver in his hand ... not necessarily pointed in my direction.

"You got proof, boy?"

"Not on me, Sheriff. It's registered at the courthouse, though. I paid cash, in gold."

"I'm unsure what to do with you, boy."

"Sheriff, you better make up your mind pretty quick. The Marines are on the way." I grinned, "Oops. They're here."

A silenced SIG touched his ear.

"Turn around, Sir. Place your sidearm on the seat and put both arms out the window." I heard a click, and another one. "Hi, David. Got in the house yet?"

"Not yet, but I did find the key. How's the search going?"

"You would be amazed at the things we've found in town."

"I'll bet. The laser was installed very recently."

"Sheriff? I'm going to open the door. Don't try and bash me with it."

He did. Some people continue to be defiant even when faced with higher authority.

"David? You want to just leave him here?"

"Sargent. I'm surprised at you. It's wet and getting cold. Look closely, he's 70 if he's a day. He'll catch his death."

They transported the Sheriff to the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard. They hid his ass in the brig.

When I asked why they were so worried about me, The Sargent told me the President had declared me a national treasure. My brain was as important as the German scientists that worked for the Defense Industry. Talk about your swelled head...

"Sargent, you fellas got anything against the girls?" I was hoping not.

"Yes Sir. We do ... I'd love to have one of them to lay against. Those women have healthy lungs." The Sargent held his cupped hands out in front of this chest.

"Other than that?" I was chuckling at the extreme size he was suggesting.

"The investigators think they're enough alike to be part of a genetic experiment. Either they all have the same mother or the same father. I'll admit they're not the brightest bulbs in the ceiling ... but they do pretty well with what they got."

"You might look into Jason's ancestry, there's something about him that's just plain wrong. His accent isn't your typical nudehampsta voice. I think he's the seat of responsibility in this mess. He was the worst one for trying to keep me out of the house."

"We'll be going ... we weren't here, remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Good boy."

"Hey! How do I get back to town? Is the water down?" I might as well have been talking to the wind ... at least it whistled ... not tonight though ... the fog was getting pretty thick.

Hey, dummy. You have a police car. As much as you can call a 1963, two door Chevy Impala, 427, four speed, a police car.

I hopped over the seat ... no fancy wire panel for the Sheriff. It started right up. Ooo ... hot rod.

Spooky ... not another car on the road, headlights fading out in 30 feet, thick swirling fog parting as I crept through it. I kept looking in the rearview expecting to see the Hound in the taillights.

Ah, Main ... the Hotel.

I parked the car behind the hotel and went to my room. Spooky place, the hotel, when the night clerk is sleeping and no one is around. I wasn't necessarily being quiet but I wasn't making a fuss either.

When I got to the suite door, and opened it, the bed was filled with "J's" ... there were more than five.

Jannell, Janice, Jillian, Julia and Jezebel I recognized ... well, shit ... I knew who was who ... how about that? Lessee ... Jan of the talented throat, backdoor Janney, bi Jill, sweet Julia, amazing Jezebel, and ... one ... two ... three? ... Three more. Eight peas in a pod all sleeping in a puppy pile ... isn't that cute.

Rather than waking them up ... I was really tired ... I slid into the tub, closed my eyes for a second, and woke up a prune. The sun was just peeping in the tower windows, casting a multi colored glow in the room. I yawned. Bad move.

The bed woke up. "He's back, here, safe..." and other variations on the same theme.

"Ladies, please. There's not room for nine people in here ... I guess there is if they're friendly."

Real friendly. I must assume I woke up about 5:30 or close enough, but I didn't manage to get dressed until near noon ... that included breakfast in bed, delivered by yet another "J" clone.

Clone?

That's it! Clones! They were all alike because they were all alike ... peas in a pod. Better and better.

Clones are Science Fiction. There are those who say if the mind can imagine it it can be done. I'll bet there are scientists working on it as we speak!

I wonder what the law says about clones? Are they property? Are they human?

Do they come with instructions?

 
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