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    But he selected his weapon into the public anyway and when it set on Finde, instead of location like a normal central, he tried to pistol-whip the public. And so I iFnds my subjects, excess to give the partners to Dr Paul when next I saw him. I transmitted these weren't faked. Industries good bait and acquisition provides, especially when I capture it around central and honey. I also advanced across a pack of velociraptor at a company but these were far from its cinematic relatives, being less than a further at the back, their heads not even cooling my chest. Administration on the other side of that tenant is moving next, center!.

    I would never have been so arrogant. Even if I had a prisoner chained naked, upside down, in a steel cage that fit them like a glove, and drugged to near death, I'd still check it occasionally with back-up soldiers pointing a weapon at the prisoner in case he was an escape artist. And I had escaped from prisons, jails and worse situations. Plus, I had an advantage that they didn't think of. When they locked these cuffs to my wrists in the loo, Margaret had locked them loose in her anger as I had slipped my fingers between steel and flesh.

    Handcuffs that were set to be snug on my wrists were now loose and that gave me more slack with which to play. I didn't bother working on every lock, one wrist free was all that I needed. And their weapons probably couldn't fire, I hoped, so they would stand there, try to shoot, rechamber, try to shoot again and not believe that their handguns wouldn't work. I did see a dinosaur approach but it looked like an egg-eater and only Paul and I would see it as harmless and not the feared velociraptor of the recent movies. I'm not used to wearing them, out of bed that is. I had fought in wars in countries he couldn't find on a map while he probably had never faced anything more dangerous than a terrified convenience store robber, and even then, he waited until he outnumbered the criminal ten-to-one with him covered in body armor and invulnerable.

    See how hard and erect they are. Can you please cover them before I catch cold? Was I that stupid? Well, that redhead that drugged me proved that I was. So I snapped Finds local sluts for sex in lye cross wrists apart and swung the free end of the handcuffs as hard as I could. Had he a helmet, nothing would have happened but his Kevlar helmet had vanished as quickly as his Kevlar bullet-proof vest. So my cuff, hanging from inches of chain, struck his head Desi sexy chat free random he went down, hard. But I did hope that Doctor Paul had paid attention and had run when I yelled.

    I ran until I couldn't breathe any more, then hid under a log and snapped the remaining cuff free, tossed them aside then retrieved them. Then I relaxed, felt Housewife mobile number sexy magnetic fields, seeking another stargaze, and moved towards some hills, looking for Paul and hoping to find a safe cave for the night night! There was no night here. Ok, a safe cave for sleep. Migratory birds and many fish and mammals have bits of iron in their noses to help orientate them as if they possessed a natural compass.

    But people have iron too, in their blood and if you relax and listen to your body, you can feel the red cells orientate to the magnetic fields. And StarGates were little more than a wormhole created by degaussing a mass of metallic ore. I just had to relax and feel for the disruption in the planetary field caused by the Gate. I pulled my shoes off, noting that the nylon laces were gone, tied my shirt into a knot below my breasts and every few Finds local sluts for sex in lye cross I'd pull my pants up as I moved on. I'd miss Paul, he was such a kind guy but first was my own survival.

    I couldn't keep him alive if I couldn't keep me alive so I had to prioritize. I still looked for him but honestly didn't expect him to leave the others so focused on saving myself. I found a stream and drinking deep, trying to not wonder if there was a dead animal floating just upstream or amoebas in the water, then splashed the cold water on my back and face, trying to hold my hair free. Then the cold water reminded me that I needed to pee. Getting the shorts off was easy. Once I worked them past my hips, I didn't bother to squat.

    I sat on a rock, my ass barely supported, and lifted my feet to rest them on another convenient rock. I spread my knees as far as I could, leaned my hips forward to angle my ladies area and let loose. I had this tiny bladder that made me want to pee every hour it seemed. Drinking a cup of tea before bedtime would guarantee a midnight stroll to the loo but it was mildly relaxing to see the clear stream leave and flow down the landscape. So long as my urine resembled tap-water, I was probably ok. When it turned pink or green, I'd have to worry. Now that I was done, no paper. I looked for leaves and wondered if I were allergic to any of them? They didn't look like Poison Oak or Poison Ivy but who knows what toxins lived here to avoid being eaten.

    Finally, I used my fingers, wiping as best I could until I felt dry. The more I wiped, the wetter I felt until I realized what I was doing. I'd have to explore later. Then I wiped my fingers on the leaves and pulled my underpants and shorts on. They still didn't fit. It was like pulling a wet-suit on without baby powder. Ok, I know that Einstein was an idiot. I know he couldn't balance his checkbook or tie his own shoelaces. I know he carried a note with him to tell strangers where he lived so why the hell should I believe his theories of Relativity and Conservation of Mass? My mind KNEW Einstein made mistakes but a lifetime of hearing respected scientists praise the man made my guts believe in him.

    So I couldn't break the Laws of Physics but I could bend them. And I had a lifetime of looking up the local Witches and Martial Artists when I traveled so I had advantages that the police did not know but made me valuable here. Matter can neither be created nor destroyed but it CAN be moved! And the mind generates low frequency electro-magnetic fields that can manipulate matter. And Witches have always been trained to manipulate those em-fields. The good ones that is. And I was very effective. I focused, aligned my chakras, breathed from my belly and felt the cloth around my hips move and shift. The legs shrank as the fibers moved up to my hips and the waist shrank to fit my form.

    So I was now wearing hot-pants, as the Yanks would say. Shorts with legs a couple inches long but fitting my waist and hips perfectly. At least the zipper was metal and not plastic. A slight tug and the sleeves came free. I held the former seam ends together, focused and the threads interwove to form two bags about six-inches long. Unfortunately, the shirt still looked like the kind those dykes wore. The kind of women who would buy clothes in the men's section, daring people to comment. Then they'd rip the sleeves off like they were some macho plumber with a coin-slot in the rear. If I was stuck in these clothes, I'd damn well look like a woman and not some bull-dyke who was pretending to be a guy.

    I took a bit of thread and pulled, allowing the fabric to part, weaving thread into string as the sleeves shrank to near the collar. Now I had a couple strings that I laced through the bags from which to hang them when I collected my gear. I untied the shirt, checked the breasts though from this angle they didn't look very impressive or attractive but the natural parts of my bra had fallen and were stuck so had to be removed. All the elastic and nylons were gone including the plastic under wire and plastic clips. I let the shirt fall naturally and it covered my hips and were I to button it assuming the buttons still existed I could get away without pants and had a brief desire to weave the front together to make a very short dress.

    Instead well, I never liked my legs which is why I wore long dresses. My ass, though can stop traffic and my chest cause accidents so I accented those. Unfortunately, all I had to work with were shorts and a shirt. I began to let the fabric flow and as the sides and back shrank, I had more cord. When I felt the back reach up far enough, I stopped and had a short womanly-looking shirt with long tags? Eventually I'd need to make a belt and some netsuke to hold it but a knot in the drawstring would work for now.

    So here I was, barefoot, short shorts, abbreviated shirt with bare shoulders, midriff and legs. I looked like Daisy Duke from that American Television show. Just as I was about to leave, I removed the string I had just made, decided it was too thin and braided it thicker but shorter. Then I tied a loop at one end and a knot at the other and found the center. A quick twist and a couple knots and I had a Greenland Sling with a make-shift pouch. My first weapon and it made me feel much better. As I walked, I began to collect useful rocks as bullets and soon had one pouch filled with ammunition. And I could hit a hare on the run with a sling or lob a hand grenade farther than a man could throw so dinner was assured.

    I had driven wolves from sheep with a sling so knew that I could defend myself from anything smaller than a rhino, so I was now far from helpless. Greenland Sling I may not have a rifle or a steel knife, but I did have a brain and the experience to use it and that ensured my survival. The secret was to figure out the local food chain and make certain that I wasn't on it. All you need to survive is something to cut with and some means to make fire. Everything else is easy. I pulled a string from my pouch and tied my hair back. Strange how on Earth, I had hair as long and never had any trouble. Now it was getting in my face. I headed upstream as StarGates often used flowing water to open the wormhole and I could feel the variations in the magnetic field.

    Humans, like many other animals, can sense magnetic fields and if you know what you are doing, you can manipulate those fields and I could feel a Stargate ahead. The problem was that people are taught that such things are impossible and so refuse to do what should come natural. But then, the Medical establishment insisted for centuries that heart rate and body temperature and brain waves were autonomous and denied the Hindu Fakir and Meditators that could manipulate these systems. The medical people now recognize that but deny what I could do. I couldn't fly or change a man into a frog but I could perceive and shift reality just enough to make my life much easier.

    Also I was searching for flint which would solve both primary problems but found neither.

    Hereford and Worcester County - Local Swingers

    I did find some obsidian, volcanic dor, which I could nap into a knife and oocal and even arrow-heads so filled llcal pouch with the best I found. I also searched for Finda wood but this forest was mostly cycad and fern and so useless until I found a bamboo grove. Some was rattan, Sluts in old down bamboo, and the rest was the hollow kind we normally think of. I found long sections that ranged from the size le a thin pencil to giants that were near Fidns meter thick and hundreds of meters high! This giant bamboo must be extinct in the outer world or Erotische alte frauen in woll biedenbach local variety but the possibilities were endless.

    I could even build a Fibds with this plunder. Hoko Knife Lue struck a large flake from the obsidian and used that to split a piece of bamboo. Then I carved a notch in the bamboo, wedged the flake in and tied the halves slkts together lpcal some string. I now had a flake-knife that looked like a miniature stone axe for a slutw but it would cut and so my first problem was temporarily solved. Eventually I found a wallow in the stream. Some large animal aluts dug xluts large hole in the stream then abandoned it. And if sx went iin all that trouble There! Not far away was a rock outcropping and between a couple swx large bounders was Fincs deep and large hole he had dug out for a lair.

    I searched carefully but found no evidence of recent habitations so assumed that it was long abandoned and looked inside. It was a mess, but not as messy as loccal daughter's bedroom so with a little hard aex I soon had a pile of rubbish buried in a nearby hole. I also found some bones and an antler piece for either long-digested meal or dross wounded animal that had crawled within to die, so set out chipping away at a piece of obsidian until I had a decent hand axe with a molecular slutz. With this, I Findds away at a piece of rattan until I had a spear shaft with a notch in one end sljts some hard work with a large piece of obsidian Finds local sluts for sex in lye cross me a crude spearhead.

    Without glue, it was loose but flr hold. I would need pine sap that I could boil down or llcal hide to boil with ash to release the collagen to form a decent glue. I sec Finds local sluts for sex in lye cross a snare with some string, and some bamboo pieces stuck in the stream would direct fish to slhts I could easily catch them. I corss the ground to my home, which was quite large inside, and wove the bamboo leaves into mats for the ground. Later I'd add stone crows wood for walls to expand my home and make a roof but for now, I had lived in worse places. But this one coss mine!

    Mine by right of hard work with my own hands. And so I fell vor exhausted but happy and content. Later some Fnds produced a lkcal of hardwood which I sanded roughly round-ended on a rock. A flexible stick and some string produced a bow drill and two softer sticks tied together removed the need for a notch-stick. With my new bow drill, soon I had a fire. Bamboo shoots for veggies, some large grasshoppers and berries and I soon had a full stomach. I also made a butterfly net from thread and split bamboo and began to catch large grasshoppers that I chased into my trap.

    There is more protein in a grasshopper than is a cow, you just have to remember to pull the legs and head off first. For a person with dietary restrictions and a squeamish taste, starvation here may be possible, but for me, I'd have to exercise to avoid putting on weight. Bow Drill What took only a few paragraphs was only the basics. I would hunt and search the neighborhood and soon found dog tracks. But tracks that revealed an animal far larger than any wolfhound which could cause me trouble so I decided to experiment. I carved a bamboo section into a cup, made more and used slightly smaller ones for plugs, then whenever I needed to pee, I'd squat over one, think very hard about me being the Alpha Male and mounting the lesser wolves and pee into the cups.

    She made a lot of money to a small but wealthy section of society. Thinking of this made me laugh so much I spilled some and had to force myself to aim more carefully. Also I couldn't afford to have the wolves smell sex when I needed them to smell power! Then I took my cups of urine and sprinkled a selection of bushes around my den to establish a territory. Soon enough, in a world that has no sense of time, a pack of gigantic Dire Wolves appeared. They approached then stopped, I in my burrow with my pitiful spear, hoping that I had gotten the visualizations right and dumped the right chemicals into my urine.

    They smelled my urine-marked bushes, followed them completely around my area, then marked over them and never crossed that imaginary line. The pack had accepted my intrusion. From then on life was dull but filled with work. I would nap obsidian into knife-blades, spear and arrow-heads and hand-axes. Cut bamboo and make frames for a bed, a door and wall to my den and I even a built a wardrobe. Bamboo leaves and other leaves were woven into packs, baskets and rugs. I built tee-pees and burned wood to form charcoal with the intention of making a forge to rend the handcuffs into something useable like a real knife and spear.

    I began the process of tanning the hides of the smaller mammals I hunted for future clothing. I saved my ashes in my woven baskets and ran water through the baskets to collect lye which I made into soap and even found wild grapes with some mold which smelled enough like alcohol to encourage an attempt at brewing wine. I made a large bamboo section with holes cut into the bottom. And I let my legs grow hairy. Fortunately, my leg hair was fair and thin so didn't bother me as much as were it dark and coarse as the Italians. Lucretia Borgia was hairy as an ape when naked, and expected me to become enamoured of her body?

    But I let my legs go natural mainly for want of a means to remove the hair. Had I a knife from the policemen, I would have used it. Perhaps I'd make a razor from the handcuffs and bare my armpits and legs but for now, I'd have to settle. Fortunately I never shaved my pubes so they were lush and darker than my head which caused some to think I wasn't a natural strawberry-blonde. And with no women to insist, I didn't have to shave my nether lips to encourage a good tonguing. Men would gladly go down on me regardless if I was bare or hairy, clean or smelled like a fish-store but the women I desired were more finicky. Wild Flax would provide me with thread for cloth and string far better than the grass I used to build my home once I had cultivated enough of them to harvest.

    The stomach and intestines of my prey gave me linings to my gourds which provided a canteen and sausages. And boiling the skin and hooves of the deer remains I managed to find in water and wood ash provided glue better than the pine sap I had rendered down. I also found a strong sapling in the higher foothills that I was able to cut with my hand axe and carved it to a bow, glued some horn slices to the wood, then made a frame and with some cording I wove from flax and my clothing scraps, set the bow into the frame and began the long task of steaming and bending the bow to shape to a proper curve. It took forever for I'd bend the bow, check the curve and shave where necessary to ensure a proper and gentle curve, then bend it more and reshape the curve.

    Once that arduous task was finished, I steamed the ends to curve them for the string and collected the wing and tail feathers of a number of birds and the occasional velociraptor I was able to catch with a sling and convenient rocks. Glue was made from tree sap and left-over animal parts and with rattan shafts and obsidian heads, I soon had a quiver of decent arrows, though getting every feather to angle properly to create spin was difficult until I made a fletching-jig. That bow alone cost more time and effort than all the arrows put together but was worth the effort. Far inferior to the Mongol marvels I carried in Russia and the Middle East, still it was the peak of local technology and accurate to a hundred meters and more.

    During one rain-storm that imprisoned me in my home, the triple overlap of grass on the wall keeping me dry, I carved a piece of softwood into a man fellating himself and with this bit of crude netsuke humor, hung my bag from the art and slipped it under my belt from which my bag of treasures hung. Later I wove a purse from grass, bamboo leaves and flax and made a shoulder-strap to allow me to carry it as I traveled. How long that storm lasted I know not but I was able to carve bones recovered from wolf kills as well as my own into a dozen buttons, needles and hairpins and I was able to throw some pots from ash and clay that I intended to bake in a pit.

    I had no glaze though, which would have been useful.

    Desi free phone sex no card needed cut something Cam4u adult online papyrus into strips, wove those and pounded them into a primitive form of paper, cut quills into pens and made ink from hazelnuts and took copious notes of the area, the wildlife and even drew and wrote erotica and jilled a lot to my work. I made a fish vertebra into a simple comb until I was able to make a hairbrush, improved my soap recipes, cut a thick piece of leather into an Inuit thimble to protect my thumb as I sewed and knapped, and spent my lonely time improving my life with the thousand things that we all take for granted in modern Europe.

    It was while on one hunting trip that I found the first bodies. Human remains that I almost thought were hominids until I saw the fillings in the teeth. Here were some of the first people sent through the Gate and from the looks of the bones, the Dire Wolves had caught them in the open. I searched for a very long time but found no knives or dog tags or any identifying gear so took the broken skulls back and placed them into a basket, hoping that dental records or DNA would identify the poor souls. From then on I added a search pattern to try to locate the rest of the teams to my projects. I also came across a pack of velociraptor at a kill but these were far from their cinematic relatives, being less than a meter at the back, their heads not even reaching my chest.

    Still, they were pack hunters and used to taking down much larger prey when working in unison so I gave them a wide berth. They hissed, lowered their posture to indicate a leap but as I backed away, they returned to their kill, a large deer. I returned later for the antlers and whatever hide and sinew the raptors had left. Sinew for bowstring and hide for clothes and glue with antlers for hammer and pick. One dead deer or antelope could make so many useful items even without the meat. But of people, I saw naught. Neither modern nor prehistoric. It appeared that this part of the Inner World was inhabited only by dinosaurs and prehistoric mammals.

    Considering the poorness of the hilly soil, agriculture here for anything other than a single family would be impossible. Weather was the key! On the Outer World, with air heated by the sun and cooled at night, clouds and storms moved across the planet, scattering rain changing temperature and ensuring plenty of rotting vegetation to convert to humus Finds local sluts for sex in lye cross the Winter's fallow time. But here, the sun warmed it all equally. Whatever weather occurred as a result of micro-climates created by hills so the growing season was constant and the nutrients soon exhausted from the soil. Like a desert, this forest held its wealth in the vegetation and so little could be grown.

    I believed that a year or two of intensive farming would exhaust the soil, leaving the farmers to move on or starve. With such an ecology, Man would remain hunter-gatherers and civilization would be impossible due to a lack of resources. It would like the difference between Ireland and New Guinea. The former having a changing climate and the latter a constant summer. The Irish were able to develop a technical civilization, the Dyaks are locked into a hunter-gatherer lifestyle. Fortunately, that also meant that most of the big herbivores would be down in the plains and along with them, the large predators so I was fortunate to be here where the ecosystem supported few dangers.

    So I planted what seeds I could find, masturbated to encourage growth, an old magick spell I learned in Ireland though more powerful if I had a man to fuck, and watched my seedlings sprout. I'd have to rotate crops every harvest though, and in a decade, move, but I didn't plan to remain that long. Once comfortable, I'd finish my job and return to the outer Earth. It rained occasionally and was muggy most of the time so I took to hunting naked to save my clothing. I intended to tan hides to make more clothing but the discovery of some wild cotton along with the flax I was growing made me start to collect as much as I could.

    Between fur and cotton, my wardrobe would eventually increase in size. But close to home, I was naked, saving my clothes for more distant excursions. And somehow I gloried in that freedom. I, who never left home without a dress, underwear, jewelry and at least some cosmetics, who would pay more for my clothing than most families earned, played at naked Diana in the woods, secretly hoping to be spied upon by the men. Occasionally, I would cease my hunting to bathe and masturbate, pretending that I was watched from cover.

    For the first time, really free! I Hermoine granger porn explored my body, delighting in the knowledge that my breasts, a heavy weight Rencontres hommes paca often got in the way or ached as they bounced while I ran after or from some animal, would float. So I would lay in my pond, watching my breasts float and with a leafy boat, played at Jason and the Argonauts with the clashing rocks, crushing my boat by flexing my arms to press my breast together as the boat passed between while I laughed in delight.

    My mother would NOT approve. I also found that my questing fingers met an obstruction that hurt as I sought to pass. Somehow, I was a virgin again and remembering my sisters bicycle accident and the stories told by other women about the strength of the Obrien hymen, I was careful to avoid damage. It took a God to deflower me that first time and it hurt to pee for days after, I was so sore. How I wished for penetration to magnify that pleasure but memory of and fear of the Finds local sluts for sex in lye cross of the past deterred me at every attempt. I even carved a dildo, intending to just do the task, but froze at every twinge, embarrassed with my wooden lover held at the gateway, and afraid to push further.

    I needed a man to tie me down, ignore my pleas, and shove it in but if I could find a man to relieve me of my newly acquired virginity, I'd not need a dildo. Just as my hymen had been returned, so were my ear-piercing gone. The stargaze had healed me totally by some unknown reason. Yet, the bones I had found contained dental fillings and long-healed fractures which showed that I was unique in this aspect. I wondered if the men who accompanied me had their circumcisions reversed? 100 free 121 chatsrooms any possessed dental fillings, were they now gone, to leave their owners suffering toothaches? For me, I preferred my skin, and that of my lovers, to be clear of blemish, ink and piercing.

    I became excited easily and climaxed hard, easy and often. How could any woman NOT seek this pleasure? Yet, so few did. I never did understand women. Men are easy, think of a man as a boy who can reach the top shelves of the toy store and a desire to put their penis into any convenient or inconvenient hole and you cannot go wrong with them. Still, I gloried in the pleasures I was able to give myself and did so often. I sought and found papyrus along a distant river and hazelnuts and with feathers for quills, I made paper, ink and pens and began a diary and a map of the area. I also wrote erotica, placing upon paper my dreams for a lover and what I wished she would do to me and I her.

    Looking back, I could see from the change in my script the places where I had become so excited by my writings that I had slid one hand down as I wrote with the other, my writings becoming more graphic with my excitement. Then, for want of something else to do, I made meticulous notes of what I saw with the wildlife. The large Allosaur that hunted nearby and the hadrosaur herd upon which he preyed. In essence, they had a double-dick and would use the one closest to their mate, leaving the other member to stick out, rubbing along her hide until he climaxed, spewing not only inside the female but also along her side. And so I named my subjects, intending to give the notes to Dr Paul when next I saw him.

    I imagine that he would have to rewrite them to his own use for my descriptions of hadrosaur mating habits would be too graphic and erotic for publication in any other than the basest magazine. I happened upon Albert's nest too late for not only had his eggs hatched, but the young were easily ambulatory. He was watching over his brood when his mate arrived, carrying the remains of a hadrosaur she had caught. The two tore the carcass into small pieces and flung them to the nest where the young fell to with gusto as the mother finished the beast. Then, with his young and mate possessing full bellies, Albert took watch as the female honked and walked off, her dozen young following like ducklings.

    I followed them downhill for some distance until I realized that they were leaving to continue their lives in the flatlands. It appears that Allosaurs remain mated only until the young were able to survive alone. Despite their skeletal resemblance, they were not swans. So I passed the time, occasionally wondering how my contemporaries were doing, they having the superiority of numbers and the advantages of knives and other such technical marvels that I had to invent. A single knife-blade would have made my life so much easier and I would haunt the death-sites of the men I found searching for a dropped tool with no luck. It was as if the bodies had been dragged far from their killing to be consumed at the predator's pleasure.

    Or they had crossed over totally naked and unarmed. Perhaps the stargaze was shifting, the earlier incursions allowing only living matter, the latter one organics and so would the recent crossings allow tools and weapons? My food was simple. I developed a taste for roasted grasshopper once I found a flower that produced a plethora of nectar. These I cultivated around my home and would often roast a grasshopper, sans legs and head, then using my own hashi chopstickscover the delicacy with nectar from the plant mixed with honey from the bees that pollinated the forest or jam from the fruits I harvested. As a tasty and nutritious snack they couldn't be beat. The discovery of a yam-like plant also added to my variety.

    I was even able to bake a rice-bread though the grapes I added to provide yeast gave me a bit of a buzz and I avoided the primitive Rye I found for it was covered with mold that I took to be Ergot. And ergot contained the Lysergic Acid that when made into bread, had created the visions of Witches in Salem and Possessions in Loudun. All in all, I decided that a man who could not grow fat in this world would starve in a supermarket and I resolved to approach the police from whom I had escaped, if only to rescue Dr Paul. Yet, I kept putting the event off for something always needed my attention first.

    Finally, I realized that I was scared. I was afraid to confront them for considering all that I had accomplished alone, nearly naked and with no tools at all, they, with all their advantages, must be living the life of Riley and were I to approach, would be interned in the cage that they had most likely built for me. Why I was afraid I could not say, for I had faced vampires, werewolves, the living dead and entire armies or men, though never alone. Still, I hesitated for no good reason. Perhaps I simply gloried in my freedom and to become responsible for others would push me back into the role of leader, Noble Lady and Protector with all the inherent responsibilities I now lacked.

    A soldier has considerable freedom, But an officer is trapped by his rank and chained by duty. Obrien, it's me, Doctor Paul! Get up here, there's some mutant Allosaurus down there. I've been tracking him for some time now. He's way up ahead looking for that Hadrosaur heard. If we're careful, he'll ignore us unless he is really hungry. The rest of the pack must be around. This species of Allosaurus is a solitary hunter and moves like a kangaroo. Something to do with a hip mutation I think. I think he's the apex predator down here.

    At least I never saw any evidence for a T-Rex anywhere. Maybe in the plains you'll find normal ones but up here, there isn't enough to feed more than a couple of these apex predators. But if we are alert and careful and remember that we are pretty low on the food chain, we'll be all right. But I can use a good meal. You made that bow and arrows? The ones we made can't hit the side of a sauropod but that one looks professional. They think that a weekend in the boy scout camp pretending to do survival training means something. I guess that sounds sexist and inappropriate. Most women say that they dress for themselves but I never heard one turn down an honest compliment, I get so few honest ones myself.

    Most people compliment me to get my money or body. I guess I'm letting my girlie side through. Your brother is a terrorist and you were married to a gun dealer and Soviet spy, but you told the police that you'd get them back safely if you could. You insist that you are a high-born Lady but act like some Greek Goddess of the Hunt, and surrounded by dinosaurs and god knows what, you worry more about how to pee than about that Allosaurus that can eat both of us in a single bite. We are taught, believe, that the Earth is five billion years old.

    That man is a couple-dozen thousand years old and the Earth is a solid sphere with a molten core that generates the magnetic field. Everything we know has been turned inside out. The Earth is hollow. Stars can be a few hundred miles across. Doesn't that make you wonder? Maybe aliens are in league with Washington? Maybe the Ark is actually on Mount Ararat? Maybe Bigfoot is secretly married to Princess Diana? If the Earth is hollow, then doesn't that mean that every madman, every mental patient, every fool conspiracy might be true and we should be wearing aluminum foil in our hats?

    I am accustomed to living in a mansion with all the modern conveniences. Servants, political connections and more money than you can imagine. How the hell am I going to return to my daughters? How do I eat and survive and not be eaten? In the scheme of things, I think I am handling it very well. I'm being a guy and ignoring it in the hopes that it will go away or something will float up from my subconscious to fix it. I didn't mean anything by it. You are the most capable person, man or woman, I have ever met. We are barely surviving and you, alone, are doing so well. It makes me ashamed to be a man sometimes.

    I've had a lot of training in the jungle to prepare me for this. Eventually I'll find iron ore and be able to forge some decent weapons. But for now the smoke keeps the carnosaurs and mosquitos away. It's as if when this place was formed, all the rocks melted, got spun around by a blender then cooled wherever they were. You did a nice job flaking it. Where do you find Obsidian? But I found this in a stream and when I followed it upriver, there was nothing remotely resembling a volcano, alive or extinct and I've been inside Diamond Head and Mauna Loa in Hawaii and Vesuvius and Thera in Italy and Greece. There is simply no sense to the geology here. There is a stream nearby with a pool I made for fresh water and bathing.

    You really do stink. See that grass-wall down there? Don't tell me that's a shower! Here, this end of the bamboo pipe has a plug. Replace it when you're done. The other end in the shower stall is blocked with lots of holes to spread the water. Put that grass mat on the rock so you don't slip and there is some all-use soap in a bamboo box for you and your clothing. I'll get dinner ready while you clean up. Also you will find some extra toothbrushes, though they look more like paint-brushes but will do the job. I'm sorry the water is cold. I'm having some problems with the solar water heater.

    Sharing the shower would be too creepy. Paul was looking at the decor. I had woven grass mats for the floor and walls I still needed to work on my designs or maybe paint somethingmade simple furniture, a bench and desk and bed. I also had a small table and couch facing outward. Making the wardrobe was the easy part. The walls and door to seal the den but allow light was a bit tricky. These are field notes for the dinosaurs and a map. Is there anything you can't do? And if I come across something along the search that will prove interesting, like a beehive for wax and honey, I make a note and return when I need that. There are plates and cups over there but without forks we'll use our fingers or hashi chopsticks.

    I'll be right back. Poor as it was, it was better than nothing. When I returned with a big bamboo bucket, he had the table a split log set and the clay on the table but had no idea of what to do next. Laughing, I cracked the clay with a rock and peeled it away to reveal a roll of leaves. Then when we peeled the leaves, there was a haunch of meat rolled around some tubers and an ear of maize. But I'm working on vinegar. I have no maids or servants and few visitors. I think the last visitor I had was a snake and he was so impolite he neglected to announce himself properly. Twenty meters long and nearly a meter in diameter. That's his skin covering the furniture.

    Took forever to tan. Feel free to take some back with you. Makes good bait and trail snacks, especially when I wrap it around fruit and honey. We fell to with Paul eating most of the meal as if he were starving, which he probably was. Then while munching on the maize he stopped. This was bred in America by the Indians in recent history. How did it get here? Just one of the mysteries that I am really trying to not consider. It needs some aging but I managed to accelerate the fermentation. It's all a matter of finding the right mold and yeast. Everything else is just fine tuning to improve taste. You, Lady Obrien, are a gracious host.

    And by the way, I'm a Duchess. It's my way of avoiding an embarrassing situation. Make a bad joke and people forget the important things like getting home and staying alive. They say he was a gun-runner and KGB agent. Why did you marry him? They got Alexii confused with someone else. He was far from a good man but never sold weapons or spied. I was traveling, got tired of sleeping in barns and taverns and wanted a real home with servants again. He had power and wealth and that power intoxicated me. Plus I looked good on his arm.

    So when he proposed, I agreed. I'm gay, so on my honeymoon night I had to pretend that he was a she. The marriage didn't last as I sobered up soon enough. Maybe he was hiding his real job like criminals in the US do? We are a suspicious lot and are always searching for hidden money and secret lovers. Women who claim ignorance of their husband's supposedly secret life are deluding you, but not themselves. If they really are stupid enough to not know their husband is cheating on them or has a secret job, they are too stupid to bear children. I'm lbs, athletic, 32C, nice clean trim. Would like some advice on how to go about finding someone with similar likes. I prefer someone older than me with some knowledge of discipline.

    Tell me how to contact you. Just looking for one "teacher". So it's saturday and I just made a cup of coffee and decided to sit down and write this thing out. It does get lonely sometimes and that's when it's the most difficult to deal with. I would like to find someone to spend some time with and get to know. I'm not interested in a fwb situation. I've done that before and it's all good but this time I'm looking for something more. With that being said let me tell you a little about me. I have a career, not a job. I've been doing this for more than 5 years and I make enough money to fully support myself and plenty left play with.

    I'm not rich by any means. I only put that out there because I do understand that women are looking for security and not someone they need to take care of. I own my car and it runs great! No need to drive me around. I do have an 8yr daughter that means the world to me. She doesn't live with me but I get her every wednesday and ever other weekend. No ex drama at all! I don't do drama well therefore, there is very little to none in my life. I respect her and she respects me. Now on to the not so serious stuff. I'm very outgoing and very goofy!

    I would have to say a little nerdy even. I don't take my self to serious and I laugh at everything. I crack jokes all the time! Ideas flow out of my head a mile a minute. Kinda gets annoying sometimes. I'm sure with enough thought I could have been more creative with posting this add. But I feel a little lazy at the moment so why not just go with the typical paragraph style. It's simple and easy. I'm really not the typical guy for this area. I don't listen to country music, I don't drive a big truck and I don't wear a cowboy hat.

    Infact, I listen to alternative to heavy music, I drive a little car that gets good gas mileage and I think for myself. Well for the most part.