Temporal Exploring 101 - Deep Future

IV.1 A wanton little thing, and always in trouble

"Hold still, will you?" my tutor Alison Thomas told me, exasperated, as she administered another resounding slap to my bare bottom. "How am I supposed to spank you when you are wiggling and squirming like that?"

Admittedly, getting disciplined in that manner was one of the less endearing aspects of being enrolled at a 1960s boarding school for girls in the UK.  

"You're not," I mumbled, stretched out face-down across her knee,with the hem of my skirt pushed up and my panties on half-mast. "You're not supposed to, that's how."

Lena Atkins snorted.

As usual, she was hanging with her friend Allie in her spare time. The two third-years, both of them acting as tutors for first- and second-year students like me, had been assigned adjoining office rooms.

The fact that I was friends with both of them tended to make the experience of getting disciplined at the hands of Allie somewhat awkward. That, plus the fact that Allie was merely one year my senior.

Awkward for me, that is, not for Allie. Allie had no qualms about taking me over the knee and blistering my butt whenever one of my teachers deemed that necessary.

In response to my mumbled comment, Allie paused. "What was that, Cathy?"

"Nothing," I muttered. "I did not say anything."

"I should hope so," my tutor declared. "Frankly, I don't know what has gotten into you, lately. This has been the second, no, the third time in less than a week that you have been sent to see me for discipline. What is going, Cathy?"

"I don't know. I mean, I have been kind of distracted in class."

"Distracted, huh? So what is it that has been distracting you so much, lately?"

"I don't know, really."

Because what else could I tell her?

The truth, you are saying? The truth? Seriously?

Ah yes, telling Allie the truth would have been a great idea. Not.

'See, Allie, the reason why I am so distracted is that I am more than a bit worried about my own people back home who are currently at war with a dangerous unknown foe,' I would have told her. 'And when I say my own people, I am not talking about the citizens of the United States of America, Allie.'

'The thing is, I do not really belong here in the 1960s,' I might have continued. 'Truth be told, I am a temporal explorer, what you would call a time traveler, from the 23rd century. I have been sent here on my First Temporal Assignment, to investigate my roommate Natty here at St. Albert's. This may be difficult for you to believe, but Natty has come up with mathematical equations that turned out to be essential for the development of time travel in my own era.'

'You see, a few month ago my roommate and several of her classmates buried Natty's notebook that contained those groundbreaking results in a small metal box in a London park during their  class excursion. And that's where future archaeologists will find that notebook, more than a century later. Or, have found it, depending on how you want to look at it.'

'Now, when I was talking to my supervisors on the ansible about a week ago, I learned that my people in the 23rd century are under attack by an unknown foe. The ansible? That's right, I didn't explain about the ansible yet. It's a kind of communication device that I use to talk to my people in the future. Currently it is stored in the closet of our dorm room, under a pile of my knickers and bras.'

'What do you mean, not to worry, everything is going to be alright? No, Allie, I do not need to talk to any doctor! Look, I don't think you properly understand ...'

They would have dragged me, kicking and screaming, to some mental ward and pumped me full of drugs. At any rate, that was what I feared.

If I was extremely lucky, my Temporal Instructor would eventually have succeeded to send in another temporal explorer to free me and return me to the 23rd century.

I could easily imagine the whispers of my fellow students at the Institute of Temporal Physics, in the aftermath of my return. 'Poor thing, the pressure must have become too much for her, in the end. At some point she just snapped and told everything to the temporal natives. Who of course did not believe a word of what she said and locked her up.'

The textbook example of a  First Temporal Assignment gone terribly wrong.

No, telling Allie and Lena the truth was definitely not an option here.

"You don't know? That's not really a satisfactory answer, Cathy," Allie observed.

I sighed. "I am aware of that, Allie."

"Right." With that, Allie resumed applying her palm to my unprotected rear end.

An hour or so later, during lunch break, I was lingering outside in the park, attempting to be alone for a bit, when I was cornered by Mallory Carmichael.

"Hart." Mallory's amused, faintly mocking voice tore me from my brooding. "Got in trouble again, didn't you?"

I made a face. "That's none of of your business, Carmichael."

Mallory stepped closer to me. "That's been happening a lot again, lately. Care to tell me what's wrong?"

I shrugged.

Those brilliant green eyes focused on me, not without sympathy. "You could tell me, you know? I might even be able to help you." She pushed an unruly strain of hair out of my face. "You won't though. Right?"

I nodded, sadly.

The tip of Mallory's index finger slowly traced my lower lip.

I experienced a mad impulse to close my lips around that finger tip and suck on it.

I acted on that impulse.

Mallory caught her breath. "What are you doing?"

Reluctantly I let go of her finger tip. "Nothing," I innocently told her.

Mallory leaned forward and kissed me, thoroughly. I lost no time to respond in kind as her right hand slid under the hem of my skirt to fondle my bum.

"Careful," I whispered, and a bit later, when her hand had slipped under the waistband of my knickers, "Ah, your hand feels nice and cool down there."

"I can imagine that," Mallory acknowledged. "Thomas really let you have it, at least that's what it feels like."

I gasped as one of Mallory's fingers slid further south.

Mallory made a surprised little noise. "You really really enjoyed that kiss, didn't you, Hart?"

"I enjoy a lot of things, Carmichael," I told her somewhat breathlessly.

"You know, you are a wanton little thing, Hart." Mallory was sounding a bit out of breath herself, at that point.

"I am not," I protested as I adjusted the position of my bum to nestle up against her hand. "What does wanton mean, anyway?"

She laughed softly. "I shall explain that to you some other time, Hart."

Soon, all too soon the bell signaled the end of lunch break.

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A / N : So, here it is, the first chapter of the fourth book of Temporal Exploring 101. Thank you for following the adventures of Cathy, Natty and their friends at St. Albert's up to this point, I truly appreciate it.

If you enjoyed reading this please consider adding your comments, or voting, as I am always looking forward to get feedback from my readers.