The Time Traveler's Choice

November 2022

My studies concluded, the constraints of my time machine were clear.

I could travel back through my genetic lineage. To do this I would need an artifact, tied to the bearer. I slam close the book I found in the dusty recesses of the college library and drive back to my parent's house where I'm staying over winter break.

I already had someone in mind, someone tied to my lineage. Somewhere in a box downstairs we have an old deed originating from an English ancestor. He was a knight, a daring sort. I imagined being in his armor, sword in hand.

First, I took a DNA test. I couldn't risk my mom had sex with the mailman and I mis-targeted. The results confirmed there was no funny business and I was ready to go.

I rummaged through the basement, looking for the deed. Box after box. Finally uncovering the last box. Written on it in dark black marker was the words "Old Photos // Knight's Deed." Bingo.

I opened the box.

It met me the moment I did.

I jolt shot through me. At first, I didn't recognize her. I squinted, trying not to look at her breasts.

My Great Aunt, Bridgette.

I hadn't known her. She died when I was four. A skiing accident. She was a great adventurer. A world traveler. Unlike my grandmother, she hadn't settled down. "She preferred a free existance," as my grandmother put it, "and popular with the men, I'll tell you that much." At this point she usually added a hmmph which I could only discern as her jealousy of her adventuresome sister.

I swallowed and dug past the photo and into the box, finding the deed in a glass frame at the bottom of the box. I held it in my hands and read the old English script. Then I reached for my Great Aunt's photo.

I set them to the side. I searched the box. I found another.

My god.

Each one I found made my heart race. My cock began to swell in my shorts. God, her tits.

It didn't help she was my type. And she did not bear an extreme family resemblance, but was more an amalgamation of my best familial traits into one tight package.

No, no, no. I held the two photos in my hand. This wasn't right to think about. This is your fucking Great Aunt.

. . . I wonder if there are more.

Oh fuck.

A peculiar feeling radiates into my balls — and I realize I'm imagining what it would be like if they went away.

Oh fuck, that isn't right. That would practically mean I'm thinking about getting fucked.

Oh no.

God, who even took these photos? They drip with sex and a casual eroticism that I suddenly realize is sorely lacking in modern existance.

Innundated with smut and tripe all day, a million on-screen sex scenes, cheap danging lust ulimately tied to advertiser ambitions and societal control, and here is Bridgette, in an era of pure materiality posing, her tits out, looking vibrant and alive and well-fucked.

I find a few more photos. I decide I need to stop. I want to be a knight. I shuffle them under the framed deed and rush upstairs to my room.

I close my bedroom door and fire the machine up.

I don't know quite what to expect. I don't know what leads me, but the last second I set the deed down, and settle her photo into the specimen intake with a shakey hand. My cock swells in my shorts. It's dripping. Precum soaks into the fabric.

I hit the START button. The machine whirs to life.

For a moment the machine glows, whirring, nearly silent. I inch towards it in curiousity. What will happen?

Suddenly a beam of energy shoots from the center of the machine into my chest.

Pain.

Light whirls around me. I look down through the cyclone and see my nipples swell and push divots into my t-shirt. They firm up. They get thicker. They push forward. They aren't stopping. Below them I see my cock, still hard about my choice, throbbing.

The moment I realize what is happening with my nipples my balls snatch into my pelvis. I yell in shock, an androgenous tone from my throat, halfway between man and woman echos against the walls of my room as my balls travel upward within me, forging my womb, condensing and twisting at the end of my vas deferens which are already converting into my fallopian tubes.

My cock seizes and I come in my gym shorts. And I keep coming. My testicles condense, pushing out every last bit of sperm before a jolt of electricity shoots through them and they come to life as new creatures. They settle into place as my hip bones push out and expand. My ovaries. They fill to the brim with eggs, the reproductive potential of two generations past, waiting where my sperm was once generated. As my cock pulls into me, rooting astride my pussy as my new clit, fluid floods from my slit and my empty ballsac pulls tightly against me forming my labia majora. Tightly cut, my pussy flowers from where they meet. I'm a woman now.

My spine cracks. My ass pushes out. My thighs part, spread by my widening birth canal, a gap now between them. I look down in shock to see my vision blocked by two growing orbs of flesh. They pump and expand even as my tummy tightens. My Great Aunt's tits. Bridgette's tits. Now on my chest. I moan. Breathing like a woman giving birth. Grabbing at the floor to get away from the time machine. My cock, now a tiny pink nub, settles into the embrace of my new pink clitoral hood. My sword has fallen. My shorts are completely soaked with come and my new feminine lubrication. I dip my feminine hand under the waistband.

My tits have grown outside the roundish bounds of the confines of my once muscular pecs. Now they start to fill out until it's too much. They fall, they stretch, they start to sag a bit, to settle over my stomach. I invite them. They're heavy and swing from side to side. My nipples dance at their tips, hardened by arousal and the cool air of my room. I'm well-endowed. I can't wait to lug them around. To stuff them into the bras and lingerie waiting for me on the other side. To touch them in bed. To be touched.

I move my fingers astride my clit and take a breath. I touch it. Fuck. Once I do I can't stop touching it. I fling my dainty new hands over my new sex it as my nails grow, racing towards an orgasm.

My clothes disintegrate. They pull into swirling threads, taken in the cyclone raging around me, flying in circles around my room along with my Great Aunt's photos. Suddenly I feel soft satin encasing my tummy. A garter, long ribbons materialize from the ends, followed my clasps. My thighs compress, pulled into the grip of two thigh high stockings. The clasps bite the stockings like snakes, seizing them and pulling them up. Locking me in. It makes my clit swell. I look down each leg. I wiggle my toes. I'm wearing high cut black high heels. Yes. I dig my heels into the ground and rub my clit, inadvertantly smashing the frame of the Knight's deed. The deed comes loose from its frame and is pulled into the raging tumult.

I fall back to my hands and spread my legs, and move my other hand in place, sending a finger and then another into my depths. I fuck myself, moaning out as my hair fills out around my head, a haircut from my great aunt's era, on my head. I see my hair in my peripheral shift from my usual black hair to a reddish dark purple dye job common from her era. It makes me moan. I've only seen her in black and white. And now everything is in color, right down to her beautiful pink nipples — and my breasts are still growing. I know I'm about to come. Deeply.

At that moment, my bedroom door swings open.

"What is all this commotion?"

My mom stands in the doorway and her mouth falls open. The room is filled with the sweet scent of my last orgasm and the flowering fragrance of my new pussy. I look up at her and spread my legs wider. I'm so close. I can't stop now. Her eyes widen in recognition looking over my body. I push my tits out. I rub my clit. I finger fuck my tight little pussy. She steps forward, her eyes darting between my face, my big tits, and my sex.

"Aunt Bridgette?!?!"

Oh God Yes. My body seizes. Fluid squirts from my pussy across the room, reaching my mom's canvas shoes, soaking into them. Another shot. Then another. I keep coming, moaning out in a sweet feminine voice. Floored by the pure bodily pleasure of a female orgasm. Laughing that I ever wanted to be a knight. I gush forth. "YES!"

Then, in a flash of light, I disappear. Still coming, my new female body pulled decades into the past. I realize in my rush to change I left the return remote behind. I'm staying this way forever. Fuck, yes. Time passing casts a cool breeze over my tits and my nipples grow erect at what I have done. I hook a finger inside of myself and hold on.

The threads of my clothes and photos fall slowly to the floor of my bedroom.

My mother steps forward in shock.

The Knight's deed floats down from what was once a tornado of activity. It settles on the specimen intake of the time machine. The machine starts to hum.

My pussy juices seep from the tops of my mom's shoes into her socks. At the center of the room, a dark wet patch expands outward in the carpet — other than the sweet scent of sex, this is the only evidence left of my having been there. For a moment the machine glows, whirring, nearly silent. My mother inches towards it in curiosity.

Suddenly a beam of energy shoots from the center of the machine into her chest.

Light whirls around her. She looks down through the cyclone and sees her clit poke slightly into her gym shorts. It firms up. It gets thicker. Then pushes forward, pitching a tent in her gym shorts. 

It isn't stopping.

IN THE PAST

I pose, suddenly recognizing the photo being taken. It makes my nipples harden. I start to drip I'm so wet. I'm Bridgette. His cock swells in his pants. I can't blame him. If I were a man I would want to fuck me, too. When he puts the camera down I will fall to my knees and take care of him with all of the horniness of a woman in her prime and a collegiate male intoxicated on pure estrogen, building in my breasts, radiating from my ovaries, pulsing in the way I clench my pussy muscles anticipating his cock. I want him in my mouth. I want to go down on my knight in shining armor. And I want him to come on my tits.

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Thanks for reading! Enjoy the weekend. More on the way! - BL & Crew