Tag Archives: time travel

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 02

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By Hunter Perez

Of course, it would be my rotten luck to be handcuffed behind my back to the cell door while Holmgren held out an envelope containing a letter from Nicky – the first direct contact from the 21st century since I arrived in the 19th century. I asked Holmgren to unlock me, but he responded he didn’t have the keys because the handcuffs belonged to Private Charleson.

“I can hold up the letter for you to read or I can read it to you,” he said while balancing his cigar on the edge of the box’s lid.

“You might as well read it to me,” I said, sourly.

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 14

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By Hunter Perez

Holmgren slowly lifted the glass from the desk and vigorously sipped its whiskey content, keeping his foul gaze at me while he consumed the drink. I stood at door and tried to consider how I would respond to this new predicament.

I assumed I would be facing an evening’s worth of abuse – certainly verbal and probably physical. Having my wrists tightly handcuffed behind my back offered a painful reminder of who was the alpha in this encounter. If Holmgren was drunk or on the verge of inebriation, then I didn’t know what to expect – he was erratic while sober, and whiskey would certainly make a crazy situation worse. Patterson’s behavior outside of the room only preyed on my apprehension – how many other prisoners came before me to experience Holmgren’s whiskey-soaked wrath?

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 13

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By Hunter Perez

Merrifield finally woke up and released me from his grip. He rolled on his back, raised his arms into the air and yawned, then looked over at me with his newfound smile. I was moved by the serenity he displayed – he seemed to be completely at peace and joy with the world, so very different from the tortured man I encountered the previous evening.

“Do you…do you…have dreams?” he asked. His voice had settled into a deeply pleasant and masculine tone, although he still paused with slight uncertainty between words.

I sat up in the bed and tousled his long blonde hair. “Sometimes,” I answered. “Sometimes they’re good dreams, sometimes they’re not. Why are you asking?”

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 08

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By Hunter Perez

The sergeant sat on the platform at the base of the pillory and gave me another of his toothy overbite smiles. “You know, I never truly appreciated this thing until you came along. Normally, I prefer throwing guys into solitary confinement – the whole out-of-sight / out-of-mind thing. But you really are sexy when locked in – you have a nice lean body and I like watching it wiggle behind those boards. Too bad Thomas Edison won’t be inventing the movie camera for another 20 years, otherwise we’d be getting a jump start on the bondage flick genre.”

At this point, I couldn’t tell whether the sergeant was trying to be funny to amuse me or to amuse himself. Between the soreness of having my head and wrists locked in the heavy pillory boards and the shock in learning that he is also a time traveler, I would have welcomed the notion of solitary confinement just to be away from this assault on my senses.

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 07

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By Hunter Perez

I imagine that being trapped in a pillory while being erotically teased by your dream lover can generate some carnal pleasures – I could be remember being aroused while watching some videos of hot guys in those types of bondage scenarios having fun with each other. Unfortunately, that was not my situation. There was no one to tickle my fancy – among other things in need of tickling – and the physical monotony of being forced into a slumped stationary pose with heavy boards controlling my head and hands quickly became stressful. But while I could tolerate the discomfort of being locked in an unnatural physical position, the prison sergeant’s presence added a new degree of emotional agony at the worst possible time.

I was baffled at his reaction upon viewing me – he clearly believed that he knew me, but that was obviously impossible unless I had a double running around in 1875. I hated to imagine which person he was mistaking me for – was I supposed to be a train robber or some other Butch Cassidy-type bad guy? Of course, claiming a bounty for the capture of such a miscreant could have excited him. But his agitation seemed more personal than professional. I recalled him saying something along the lines of “Oh no, not you” but quickly insisting he only knew of me and never met me.

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 05

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By Hunter Perez

I spent about five minutes trying to convince myself not to panic – which was no mean feat, considering that I was locked in a jail cell in the middle of a derelict ghost town in the middle of the New Mexican desert by a law enforcement officer with more than few emotional problems. When my anxiety abated, I began to consider what would happen next.

I came to the immediate conclusion that Nicky was not going to leave me to die a slow death. For starters, he knew I had a phone with me – we already exchanged text messages – and I would be able to call 911 for help. Yet I hesitated to immediately place such a call because I was uncertain if this was an elaborate but unfunny prank on Nicky’s part. He obviously carried anger issues about my leaving him 10 years earlier, and maybe this was his warped idea of a temporary but determined comeuppance.

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