Subject: New Story: Future Imperfect II (Sp, M?/F,nc)kfr
From: Kfry2k@aol.com
Date: 30 Oct 1996 14:25:34 -0500

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction containing adult themes. If you are not of legal age, you don't belong here. Any similarity between characters depicted in this story and persons or entities living, dead, or existing, now or in the future, is purely coincidental.

Future Imperfect 2

In the stillness of the New Mexico desert, a full Autumn moon coated everything with silver, casting sharp, black shadows everywhere. Nocturnal predators went about their business, searching out creatures with the misfortune to be nighttime foragers. Overhead, millions of sparkling stars wheeled slowly, keeping cosmic time as the planet called Earth turned on its axis in the vastness of space. Somewhere a coyote howled, and was answered by another lonely call. Preoccupied with existence, the wildlife took very little notice as a softly crackling ball of electrical energy appeared, growing in size, its center a hollow of dense blackness. As it grew, the energy discharge stirred up a small dust-devil, swirling sand and debris, sending the nearby animals scuttling for cover. Out of the darkness in the discharge stepped a black and silver form; just under six feet tall, and humanoid. Its metal extremities were tinged with frost, and on its left shoulder was an emblazoned silver number: 31. Holding up its left forearm, the entity touched a button with its right forefinger. A small screen came to life, showing a green dot at its center. Off toward one edge of the screen, another, smaller dot pulsed, red in color. With a barely audible hum, the creature turned and headed in a south-easterly direction. On the screen, the green dot began to move slowly toward the red one. The full moon rose higher, bit by bit, and the desert returned to its normal routine: survival.

Janey Rogers brooded a bit as she washed up the dinner dishes. Taking her time because of what awaited, she methodically rinsed and dried each utensil. Once again, for the umpteenth time, she had over-spent her credit card limit. Her husband John had discovered the situation when he went to charge something at the local hardware store. Janey had hoped to get it squared away before he could notice, but hadn't quite made it. John had been furious.

"How many times do we have to discuss this, Janey?" he asked her caustically.

Janey stood looking at him, feeling like a naughty teenager, embarrassed by being caught. With her ash-blond hair tied back in a pony tail, and dressed as she was in jeans and one of John's shirts, she almost looked the part. Her hands were clasped behind her, the expression on her face one of discomfort. Inside, she was becoming excited. What she had done was not serious, but she was certain John would spank her for it, something she looked forward to more than she would admit.

"I - I'm sorry, hon." She apologized lamely. "I wasn't keeping track, and then I found out and tried to make it right, but...." she babbled on, trailing off to silence.

"Well, I have an idea how to improve your memory, and you know what it is, don't you?" he said in an irritated tone.

Lowering her head, she nodded, knowing that the time had come.

"Bring me the hairbrush, young lady," John commanded, "and come back in your birthday suit. We'll see if a long, hard spanking on that forgetful bare bottom of yours will teach you to pay more attention to our finances."

"No, John, please!" Janey implored, "not the hairbrush!" Her eyes misting with tears, she went on "Spank me if you want, I deserve it, but please don't use that nasty hairbrush, it hurts so much!"

Crying freely now, she still couldn't help being excited, partially due to the non-threatening peril confronting her. She had a love/hate attitude toward the incredible sting of her old-fashioned wooden hairbrush, which John reserved for times when she had been especially naughty. Her husband was unmoved, and repeated his order.

"You heard what I said, Janey, and I mean now!" he barked, pointing at the bedroom door. "If you're not back here and over my knee in three minutes, you won't be able to sit down for a week!

Folding his arms, he glared at her, watching as she dejectedly obeyed, walking slowly toward the bedroom, then hurrying as she recalled his promise. Quickly shedding her jeans and shirt, Janey pulled off her loafers and socks, regarding her slim but well-constructed twenty-six year-old body in the closet mirror. Topped by ash-blonde hair, her face was extremely youthful, with warm brown eyes, now brimming with tears, and a pert nose. Her not-too-wide mouth was even narrower now due to a trace of pout, which she accentuated, making a face at herself as she picked up her large wooden hairbrush off the dresser. Pivoting before the mirror, she ran her eyes downward over full, firm breasts, a trim waist, and seductively flaring hips with well-sculpted legs below. Her remarkable bottom was presently a creamy hue, the tan lines of summer fading slowly. Soon, she thought, it would be a flaming crimson as her husband stung it again and again with the solid piece of varnished wood she held in her hand. The thought brought a fresh flow of tears in anticipation. When she had been really bad, John would take her across his lap and smack her bare bottom long and hard with the back of the brush, until she was sobbing and begging him to stop, her backside totally on fire. She loved being spanked by John, and the intensity of their love-making which almost invariably followed, but the hairbrush stung so badly..., "Oh, well." She sighed to herself, "I earned it." With sudden panic, she realized she was dawdling, and fairly ran toward the living room. She never made it.

Planetary Transport Patrolman 31 paused outside the small suburban house, gazing at a red Alfa roadster in the carport. Looking down at his left forearm, he could see that the red and green dots were now side by side. Calling for a memory scan, he replayed the license number of the vehicle, comparing it to the visual image on his viewscreen. An exact match. This was indeed, the vehicle which the suspect had used to escape into the past in an attempt to elude justice. Using the close-proximity locator, he obtained a fix on the subject; one female Caucasian, twenty-six earth years old, height 165 cm, weight 52 kilos, alleged identity Jane Rogers. Fixing the coordinates, he activated the spatial dislocator. A moment later, a naked and very frightened Janey appeared before him, still holding the hairbrush in her right hand.

John Rogers waited impatiently for Janey to return, and was on the threshold of calling to her when he heard her bare feet padding down the hallway in a trot. The next second there was a rippling flash, and the footsteps vanished.

"Janey?" he called, getting no answer.

Puzzled, he made his way to the bedroom, fearing the flash had been an electrical short. Janey's clothing lay on the bed, and the hairbrush was missing from the dresser, but there was no sign of his wife. She had simply vanished. Thinking she had run outside, he went out the carport door, walking several times around the house and calling her name. Only the sighing of the wind answered him. Then he noticed her car was gone. The little minx had somehow slipped out on him. Frowning, he vowed that she would pay for this little stunt when she returned. He'd spank her good and proper, he thought, and maybe throw in a strapping for good measure. The door slammed behind him as he went back inside, determined to wait for her, if it took all night.

Janey's eyes widened as she recognized the entity standing before her. She even forgot to be embarrassed by her nakedness as she thought back to that mysterious night in the desert six months ago. It had been so surreal, she almost had come to believe she imagined it all. Now, here was the apparition which had spanked her so relentlessly that night. Opening her mouth to scream, she found herself unable to move or speak. Watching with horror, she saw the entity press a button on his left forearm, and the world dimmed around them. There was cold, intense cold, and a feeling like racing through a dark tunnel, of being stretched into infinity and pulled limb from limb, slowly. She fainted, lapsing into blessed unconsciousness.

"Jane Rogers." A metallic voice was saying, over and over again.

Gray walls swam into view as Janey awoke. She felt dizzy and nauseous. Retching once, she heard the voice again.

"Jane Rogers." It was insistent, but flat, lacking emotional tenor.

"W-Where am I?" she asked, weakly, regarding the drab walls around her.

She lay on a thinly mattressed bunk. The walls and floor seemed to be a dark gray matte-finished plastic or composite of some sort. The room was illuminated, but the source could not be seen. It was a depressing place, making Janey feel even worse.

"Planetary Detention Center Number 19." The mechanical voice stated. "You have been brought here to be interrogated about and punished for your crimes against society, which now include Planetary Code 43786-2D; attempting to elude authorities, and Planetary Code 77902-099; unlawful use of time-displacement technology."

"This can't be happening to me." Janey protested aloud to herself.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she yelled, the expected echo strangely absent as the walls absorbed all of the sound.

"Denial is useless." The voice maintained. "The facts are incontrovertible."

After a pause, a door appeared in the wall across from Janey's bunk, admitting a humanoid but artificial presence. Simultaneously, the voice announced,

"Counselor twenty-one has been assigned to your interrogation. You will soon find that cooperation is rewarded, and anything else severely punished."

The voice clicked off, as Janey yelled in terror,


She wanted to bawl like a child, really scared now. Regarding the figure which had entered her "cell", she noticed it was carrying something that looked like a small paddle, and really got scared. If she had known what it was, she would have climbed the walls. As the "counselor" approached, she began to shrink away, and abruptly found herself unable to move. The creature spoke.

"This can be easy for you, young woman, or very difficult." Coming closer, it held up the small paddle, asking,

"Do you know what this is?"

Its face was a silver mask, impassive and implacable, just like the highway patrolman. "Were there no people in this place?" Janey wondered silently, becoming more frightened by the minute.

"No." Janey said softly, unable to take her eyes from the object. It was unimpressive in size, and didn't look threatening, but Janey remembered the thin rod with which Patrolman 31 had set her bottom on fire. Appearances could be deceiving.

The entity came closer, explaining,

"This is a stim-pad." Rotating it for Janey to get a better look, the entity continued, "let me demonstrate how it functions." He turned a small dial at the base of the object, then rolled the naked and helpless girl face down on her bunk. Janey was able to move her head, so she looked with trepidation over her left shoulder. The entity slapped the "stim-pad" down very lightly on her right buttock. Janey braced herself for the spank, but was totally unprepared for the fiery sting that flooded through her skin where the paddle touched.

"YEEEEOWWW!" she shrieked, tears starting in her eyes from the biting smart, which ebbed very slowly.

Breathing hard, she wasn't ready for the second touch, this time on the other cheek.

"OWWWWWWW, Oh, GOD!" her howl didn't even echo, it just disappeared into nothing as Janey panted from the pain.

Through tear-blurred eyes, Janey watched the entity like a hawk, ready for any sign that it intended to strike her again.

"You see," the creature explained in a flat, easy tone, "it affects the nerve endings directly. There is no physical damage, and no numbing or bruising, so each and every spank stings just as much as the first. That was the lowest power setting. There are many more above that, and the process can be continued indefinitely."

The crushing impact of the words struck abject terror in her soul as Janey heard the "counselor" continue.

"If you cooperate during your interrogation, your discomfort will be minimal. Should you choose to be difficult, however...," the creature gave the dial a slight twist and touched the paddle to Janey's bottom once more.

"OWWWWW-WOW! NO! PLEASE!" Janey screamed as it felt like a million bees stinging her behind all at once, the sting lasting well beyond what a physical spank would cause. She sobbed, lamenting,

"Honest, I haven't done anything. This is all a mistake. I'm innocent."

"I can see you need something to think about before we proceed." The entity stated flatly.

As Janey shrieked in protest, the creature began spanking her upturned and helpless bare bottom and legs again and again, using almost no force, but producing results the likes of which Janey had never experienced. Long before the "counselor" had finished, Janey was wailing her repentance, pleading for it to stop. She was ready to admit to anything, and take the consequences.

Janey awoke in her cell, depressed and disappointed that she was not awakening from a nightmare. She felt her bottom gingerly, and was surprised to find no physical traces of the awful spanking the creature had dealt out. Her old wooden hairbrush paled in comparison to that device the "counselor" had used on her. The after-effects were like a nerve-echo, the smarting and burning sensation lasting for well over an hour. Now, her bottom felt brand new, like she hadn't been spanked at all. She began to cry softly to herself, thinking about the ordeal which was surely to come. Her crying turned to panic as the door to her cell opened, once again admitting the black and silver garbed counselor.

"NO! GET AWAY FROM ME! PLEASE!" Janey pleaded at the top of her lungs.

The damping field came on, immobilizing her arms and legs once more as the entity approached her, stim-pad in its hand. Despite her protests and pleas, the creature once again rolled her over and prepared to administer another spanking. As the poor girl pleaded, the counselor asked,

"Where did you obtain the historical vehicle you were piloting?"

"What are you talking about?" Janey sobbed, not realizing it was referring to her Alfa-Romeo roadster, "What historical vehicle?"

"YOWWWW! She wailed, as the creature spanked her,

"OWWWWW-NOOOOO! PLEASE!" she gasped as the second spank landed.

Another dozen fiery spanks turned Janey to a bawling mess, her eyes and nose running, the poor girl weeping broken-heartedly, unable to understand what was happening to her or why.

"Shall we begin again?" the creature asked, emotionless.

The remainder of the session was similar, with Janey's backside getting roasted until she was nearly exhausted from crying. The creature was about to leave, when the door opened and admitted a human. Dressed in a silvery jumpsuit, he looked to be about thirty-five. His hair was jet black, except for the temples, which were silver. Dismissing the counselor, he approached the subdued and frightened Janey, who begged him,

"Please. I haven't done anything wrong. They keep beating me, please, help me. I don't know the answers to their questions, please, make them stop."

The man sat on her bunk and tried to put a brotherly arm around her. Janey shied away, her eyes wide and still dilated from the pain in her bottom.

"It's all right." He soothed her, "We know, we know."

While Janey listened, the man, one Brother Simon, explained.

"It seems that a freak power surge opened a time-discontinuity by mistake some months ago, trapping you temporarily in the bubble. When you were discovered, no one knew about the accident, so they assumed you to be a time-shifter, a brand of criminal in our time. They jump back and forth between eras, making illegal profits from trafficking in forbidden merchandise."

Janey looked incredulous, but hopeful.

"W-Where or when am I?" she inquired, beginning to like this Brother Simon.

"This is West Terra, in the year 2287, as you would count it." He answered, smiling at the look of amazement on her face, and continuing,

"I'd like to show you around, but it's forbidden, and besides, we'll have to wipe your memory before we send you back."

"Send me back? She beamed hopefully, "You mean I'm free?"

"More free than anyone in this society has hope to be." Brother Simon said sadly. "We've trapped ourselves with our rules and regulations, some of them necessary because of the way people in your time behaved."

With a solemn face, Brother Simon apologized,

"I'm so very sorry about what happened to you here. Don't think badly of us, we've had to resort to some drastic methods that many of us don't like. When you awake, it will be as if none of this ever happened. Good-bye, Jane Rogers."

"Good-bye, Brother Simon." Janey replied. "Uh, by the way, could you wipe my husband's memory, too? He was about to give me a good spanking."

Laughing, the man shook his head, saying with a wry grin,

"I'm sorry. We've interfered enough in your time period. We'll put you back at the exact moment you were taken, to minimize temporal distortion. Farewell, and have a good life, Jane Rogers."

He lightly touched Janey's forehead with his hand, and she slumped to the bunk, unconscious.

The chill air hit Janey's naked body, making her shiver. She was standing in the carport next to her red convertible, holding her big wooden hairbrush. "How in the world..?" she wondered aloud. She had been running down the hall towards the living room, on her way to a spanking from her husband, and suddenly she was standing outside! Sneaking in the carport door, she crept down the hallway, quiet as a mouse.

"You'd better get out here, young lady, and I mean now!" her husband threatened, the annoyance noticeable in his voice.

"I'm coming, John!" she called back, prancing into the living room.

With no preliminary except to express his displeasure with her, John Rogers took his pretty wife across his knees and put the heavy wooden hairbrush to work on her bare bottom. Typically, she cried and begged him to stop, her right wrist held firmly in his left hand as he smacked the creamy white skin of her backside and upper thighs into flaming scarlet. Her long, lovely legs kicked wildly as the brush bounced off her bottom cheeks, smarting and burning with the fiery sting characteristic of varnished wood on bare skin. When John felt she had learned her lesson, he let her up, soothing her tears and kissing away some of the hurt. As always, they were soon making love right there on the living room floor, to their mutual delight. Afterward, Janey had the feeling of being very fortunate, somehow. Even with her bottom ablaze, it was so very good to be home.

Later that night, when John was asleep, Janey awoke from a dream. It had frightened her, she knew, but she couldn't remember it. She got out of bed, looking out the window at the star-spangled New Mexico sky. The full moon was setting, making way for the coming sunrise. Feeling a bit disoriented, she got back into bed, wriggling under the covers. Laying her arm across her husband's chest, she snuggled against him, loving the smell of his Old Spice deodorant. Closing her eyes, Janey drifted off, clothed in the warmth of her husband's love and their comfortable home.