All characters 18 and consenting. Tags; sci-fi, history, time travel, bukkake, gay/femboy

“I can’t believe he met your grandmother on his birthday, what a special gift.” Laura whispered, her head crouched behind her stack of unopened textbooks.

“So you see now why his 80th this Saturday is so special, he’s been with my Nan for 60 years! The world has changed a lot in that time.” Claire said energetically before being shhhh’d from across the auditorium by a familiar voice.

Paying attention now, Claire noticed that the lecture still continued despite their conversation, their seats at the far end of the auditorium. Faintly they could hear the lecturer, Mr Burns going through his lecture, almost reading the textbook verbatim;

‘Upon the discovery of alien life, humanity resolved that if we could accept and be tolerant of aliens that we must be tolerant and accepting of humans; no matter how they present.’

Laura’s attention waned from the party planning as the sheer passion of Mr Burns captivated her, bringing her to the edge of her seat as he spoke. Biting her lip, the 18yr old busty cheerleader listened in.

“If you had opened your textbook you’d know he’s reading it word for word.” Claire said unenthused, rolling her pretty brown eyes.

“It’s not what he’s saying CC it’s how he says it Rrrrrr.” Laura said purring like an animal in heat, practically salivating over Mr Burns.

It was true, many students in Mr Burns’ class were only here to ogle him. Mr Burns or ‘Burnie’ as the student cohort called him was a tall man in his mid thirties, his brown hair pulled back into a tight man bun. Burnie, although reading from the textbook verbatim, always spoke with such passion, his muscles rippling under his tight fitting plaid blue suit. It was hard to find a reason to dislike him.

His voice boomed with authority, his large luscious beard cascading down from his face and touching his chest every time he spoke, like a metronome counting his pace. Even here, high in the auditorium seating Claire and Laura could still hear Burnie without any microphone.

Claire looked down to the stage floor to see Burnie pacing back and forth, addressing various students in the front rows. Looking further up Claire could see all walks of student life staring at Burnie, their eyes practically undressing him. His pants already tight enough that they left little to the imagination.

Claire smirked to herself as she began to play with her black hair, surely Burnie knew 80% of the class was hot for teacher.

Giggling to herself after seeing how captivated Laura was, she felt a twinge of pride to know she was in that minority 20%.

Looking now, back to Burnie she saw him bringing another student toward the white board, encouraging them vigorously to finish their point and write it for the class.

The student was dressed in a low cut tank top, her boobs almost spilling out with a small skirt hiked up as high as it would go revealing a supple ass with a thin g string between the cheeks.

Helping the female student to the board, the student shyly drew on the whiteboard, having to stand on their tiptoes to even reach.

The student stood on rickety legs, her high heels ever so long. Wobbling and nearly falling over Burnie placed his massive muscular hand on the small of her back to stabilise her.

As if unconsciously, Laura, Claire and another student collectively gasped as they watched Burnie touch the student; wishing it was them.

The instinctual reaction caused Claire to blow out a mouthful of hot air as if to cool herself down, her cheeks becoming flush with redness; perhaps she wasn’t so firm in the 20% camp after all.

Leaning into her desk a loud sudden slam echoed in the hall, throwing Claire back into reality.

Looking down she saw she had knocked all of her books from the desk.

“Ms Chambers, is there a reason you’re making such a racket?” Burnie called out, a brown eyebrow raised curiously

“No sir, I’m paying full attention.” She said, her tiny lady dick twinging at calling him sir.

“Then you wouldn’t mind continuing my train of thought then?” Burnie retorted.

Laura wrapped a rogue hand around her mouth to stifle a giggle that sounded more like a moan as Claire clambered for a way out.

Thinking quickly, remembering Burnie was reading the text book line for line, she took a shot in the dark;

“You were saying that the sexual renaissance of 2270 was only possible due to the discovery of alien life the decade prior.”

Shocked with her reply, Burnie gave a nod of approval, mouthing ‘good girl’ before continuing his lecturer;

“It was a monumental time for humanity. United under one universal government, everyone was free to be themselves, judgement a thing of the past. You could be trans, gay, non binary, part alien! It didn’t matter, hiding your true self was a thing of the past; owning your sexuality and all that it encompassed was the new norm—“ Burnie said pausing for dramatic effect, the various students in the auditorium hanging on his every word.

“Of course it wasn’t always like this, 300 years before the sexual renaissance in a time period called “the 70’s” people couldn’t be as free as they were now. Ten years before that they were rounded up and tucked away, another decade before that and they were being lynched for being different.”

“Well we don’t know that.” Claire said cutting him off, her voice cracking through the stunned silence of the auditorium.

“Ms Chambers, if you actually read your book you’d know, different sexualities and orientations were killed, in droves by bigots back then. As we know now, the only good bigot is a dead one.” Burnie said, going off script.

“We can’t judge people for living differently than we do. They may have been scared to be themselves, unable to be who they were. Perhaps they simply didn’t know better.” Claire said, now standing out of her chair, her low rise jeans hugging her amazing legs. Fighting a point she wasn’t entirely sure she agreed with.

The class looked back and forth from Burnie to Claire as was a frequent endeavour, the bratty trap no stranger to fiery arguments with Sir.

For all Burnie’s passion he was distasteful of people with conflicting or even suggested opinions which strayed from the texts. It fired him up, and Claire liked that.

Claire had been the only student to point this dogmatism out, resulting in many suspensions and lost grades yet to her dismay, no punishments, although she’d never admit it.

Perhaps her current argument stemmed from her grandfather whose party she still had to plan, a man formerly identified as a “bigot” who, had outgrown the mental shackles of his former life. If he could do it, what’s to say others couldn’t either?

Pushing against the chair in front of her, her vintage band tee hanging off her petite frame, Claire said her final remark;

“How do you even know, you weren’t even there!” In the brattiest, most suggestive tone possible.

Mr Burns slid his glasses off, the steel frames making his blue eyes pop. “I’ve seen things Ms Chambers. Things you wouldn’t believe…”

The class sat in stunned silence and baited breath. Sitting for a moment before the lecturers voice boomed again;

“Class, I’m giving you one last assignment before graduation. To show me you are all not like Ms Chambers here, I want a 3000 word essay or video equivalent showcasing your knowledge of the world pre 2000.”

The class let out a hellacious groan. Conversations and murmuring popped up, various deep voices and shrill tones cascaded over one another drowning out all conscious thought.

Claire sank into her chair, wishing the world would swallow her up. Laura snacked her hard in the arm, her new acrylic nails cutting her slightly.

The bell chimed, signalling the departure from this class to the next. As the student cohort left Claire locked eyes with Mr Burns their gazes heavy with passion mixed with urges unrealised. Mr Burns rolled up his sleeves, revealing is muscular forearms which were covered in various tattoos. Placing his steel frames glasses back on his face he mockingly said in Claire’s direction;

“Better get writing.”

“No way you actually said that!” Blake yelled, almost leaping out of his skin, his varsity jacket one size too big, his booty shorts one size too small.

“She did, got us a final assignment too.” Laura replied, adjusting her tits in her push-up bra. Before checking her hair in a compact mirror.

“At least you know that Angela won’t get the Knightly Scholarship.” Blake replied, pulling a wedgie out as he spoke.

Angela. Ugh the mere mention of her name ruffled Claire’s feathers. Claire scoffed, trying to push the visage of the bitch from her mind.

“At least now you have a shot CC, this essay could push you over the edge!” Laura said, using Claire’s childhood nickname.

Pondering the notion, Claire sat silently as the conversation ran around her. Counting and adding she sighed angrily joining back in on the conversation;

“I’d have to get 98% on this to beat her. Old man Burnie never marks an assignment over 90% even if it’s perfect.” Claire said angrily, shoving her backpack in a fit of rage.

“Well you are pretty perfect.” Laura said giving Claire’s left boob an encouraging squeeze.

“As if a loser like you would even get 30%—“ a voice called.

The trio turned from their usual lunch spot to see a short blonde woman they unfortunately recognised from class.

Wearing an outdated schooling uniform, the last stood bolt upright her clothes modest to the point of obscenity, the crease free shirt and pants methodically cleaned, the white of her socks almost repulsive.

“Angela.” The trio said in unison, curling up their lips at the mere sight of her.

“That scholarship gets the holder a free ride through any university as well as placement at the job of their choice. It’s too precious to be won by the likes of you.” Angela spat, her eyes glancing down at their packages, referencing their lack of true womanhood.

“It wouldn’t be so precious to you, Smegol looking ass, if you actually lived a little—“ Blake snapped back “I mean, haven’t you planned your life down to the second since kindergarten you private school looking Bitch.”

Angela merely smiled at the comments, her teeth unsettling white.

Against the backdrop of a sexually free world, Angela didn’t fit. People could fuck out in the open, with whomever they wanted. You could identify as you pleased. Clothing was optional at best. Yet there would always be contrarians, and Angela was número uno.

Obsessed with modesty and uniforms of bygone groups, Angela had made it her life’s mission to win the Knightly Scholarship to prove to the world that the new way wasn’t the right way, that society had strayed too far in the wrong direction…or at least that was the going theory.

“You three always did have such clever comebacks.” Angela said sarcastically clasping her hands together signalling her departure.

After she was well and truly out of earshot, Laura and Blake turned back to Claire;

“Okay so you gotta get that scholarship if for no other reason than to knock that bitch down a peg.” Blake said, waving an angry fist in her direction

“We can help!” Laura chimed in giving Claire’s other boob a motivational squeeze.

Claire sighed, pushing her food back and forth on her lunch tray with her fork.

“You guys are sweet but I can’t get a score that high. I haven’t studied that far back, and the records from those periods are spotty at best. I’d need a Time Machine to even have a shot.”

“Well now that you mention it…” Blake began, changing his accent comedically to a more debonair eccentric one as he spoke

“Not this old chestnut.” Laura replied throwing her hands up in the air, exacerbated.

“It’s true!” Blake responded, his voice returning to normal. “Old man Burnie has a working Time Machine in his office. It’s how he writes all his history books!” Blake said sounding beyond sure of himself.

Claire’s ears perked up, curiously she slid across the bench, her hip bumping into Blake’s.

“A Time Machine you say?”

Laura pulled on her earlobes starting her in-ear headphones, looking to zone out this silly conversation.

“That’s right little lady.” Blake said “it’s the schools only one, from back when schools could go on time travelling field trips.”

Placing her fork down, Claire leaned over to Blake, her soft facial features firm and serious now. Her bright pastel pink lipstick catching the afternoon sun as she asked in a hushed tone;

“How do we get in?”

Blake laughed before huddling down next to her. Against her better judgement Laura joined the pair, turning off her earphones. In their circle of secrecy Blake whispered;

“I’m so glad you asked.”

“Hurry up Blake!” Called Laura, holding the flashlight steady, pointing at the door lock.

With an unused locking picking tool poking out of his mouth Blake grumbled back;

“This is harder than the movies make it out to be.” He said fiddling with the lock.

Crouching in the darkness beside Blake a steely eyed Claire waited for Blake to work his magic. With a satisfying ‘click’ the door swung open.

Blake stepping back, curtsying, causing his booty shorts to ride even further up his perky little ass.

Entering the dimly lit office, the flashlight snapped back and forth catching glimpses of spruce furniture, the table covered completely in partially marked papers and assignments while the walls were lined with cabinets filled with books.

Volumes upon volumes of human history specifically focused on sexuality. Books on BDSM, CBT, sex positions & piss play amongst others lined the walls.

Delving deeper into the room, the trio looked around for any sign of the so called “Time Machine”, Blake pulling at the books as he walked by.

“What’re you doing?!” Laura called her ginger hair falling all over her face as she shook her head at Blake who was pulling books from the shelving.

“I’m looking for a hidden switch, old movies said that the creepy room is always behind a bookcase.” Blake replied his reasoning silly but at least backed by something. Still pulling on books he continued to search for the so called “hidden area”, not even taking a second to look at Laura.

He continued to pull at books in the small room. Soon enough a stupefied Laura and a time-crunched Claire began doing the same. After chucking nearly all the books to the floor a low resonance ‘clunk’ was heard as Blake pulled the false book partially from the wall.

“Gotcha” he said cockily, luck finally on his side.

Sliding back now the bookcase opened into a larger room, at its centre the Time Machine.

It was a rudimentary design; merely an arched empty door frame with a control panel on the side, hardly the symbol of scientific achievement.

The trio studied it before cautiously approaching, their steps hesitant and slow.

Claire was the first to approach, searching in the flashlight lit room for the power button. Laura stood closest to the doorway, afraid but also partially on lookout as Blake stood still, rubbing his chin in silent contemplation.

After some silence and stealthy searching Blake finally spoke up; “where’s the safety cartridge?”

Claire and Laura looked at him, squinting their eyes and face at him, shrugging confusedly.

“What the fuck is a safety cartridge?!” Claire whispered, her tone utterly pissed as she fondled the machine, tracing the wires to the wall in search of the power box.

“It’s a little device on the control panel that prevents travellers from going to places not approved by the World Council. Without it you could potentially end up anywhere, at anytime.”

“He must’ve taken it out.” Laura replied, no sense of humour in her voice, now also fondling the machine.

“Hardly, the machines can’t operate without one; well the newer models anyway.”

As Blake finished his sentence Claire switched on an unknown switch in the darkest corner of the room. The room sprang to life, the machine whirring and crunching along as the radiant blue light from the machine filled the room.

Claire stepped up toward it, feeling an ethereal heat pour out of the centre, the doorway now a rich blue spectrum, swirling in front of her.

The control panel blinked limply, beckoning to Claire in the most non-intrusive way. Running her soft hands across the dust covered keys she saw no date had been entered.

“Okay so now what?” Laura asked, genuinely curious, keeping a safe distance away from the swirling vortex of light.

“Claire-Bear jumps in, gets some on the ground interviews from people of the time using her retina recorders and presents it to Burnie. Bing bang boom disproving his textbooks but also showing not only do you understand history — you fucking lived it.” Blake said, caressing the Time Machine, marvelling at its engineering and scientific beauty.

Claire stood staring into the mesmerising blue void. Not acknowledging her friends at all before turning around, to face them both. With hands on her hips, the blue light silhouetting her she said;

“I’m not going back for interviews. I’m going back to fuck. I’m going to prove the world was more progressive than Burnie’s books admit.”

“What time period will you go to?” Laura said, taking a step toward Claire delicately, her cheerleading outfit being lightly lifted in the direction of the blue hue swirl.

Claire turned around, grabbing her friends in an impromptu hug, squeezing them tightly before letting go and stepping into the portal, her last words to her friends;

“Where-ever it’ll take me.”

Claire awoke on the hard hot earth, the dirt hard and the grass patchy. Looking down at her arm she saw the return beacon embedded in her wrist; she had a way home.

Shaking her head to orientate herself she stood up almost too quickly, the world spinning around her. Blinking rapidly trying to get her bearings as the harsh sun burnt town on her she heard a loud commotion of voices. Turning around she squinted to see armoured men running hurriedly up the mountain.

With shields, some circular others rectangular and many long spears. Red Mohawk like plumes adorned their bronze helmets. Encircling her quickly the men formed an impregnable wall, their spears now pointing squarely at Claire.

Raising her hands in surrender to the men she hardly recognised, a man stepped out from the shield ring, extending a gauntlet covered hand toward her. Clasping it, Claire was pulled to her feet locking eyes with the steely eyed, barely dressed man.

His body was a marble sculpture as were all the men. Pictures of the utmost peak physical specimen, shredded beyond compare. Yet despite their lower body fat they were rippling masses of muscle with tuffs of sexy, mainly body hair. Sun kissed, heavily tanned skin dripping with beads of sweat.

Claire felt her lady boner rising fast, her jeans fortunately tight enough to smother it back down. Feeling the sexual twinges increase in severity, she crossed her legs, trying to remain sturdy around muscle bound men whose deep earthy voices would make the heartiest girlies faint.

As the spears retracted Claire found her voice and asked timidly;

“Where am I?”

A cascading laughter rippled through the masked men, before being quickly silenced by a raised hand of the man standing before her.

Sliding his helmet off, the man flicked his long sweaty black hair out, the beads of sweat landing on Claire’s face, the taste beyond erotic.

Through a deep hoarse voice the man grumbled;

“You’re at Thermopylae, on the eve of the most important of my reign as King of Sparta. My name is Leonidas.”

If it wasn’t for the translator implant majority of children got at age eight Claire wouldn’t have understood a single word. Recalling her ancient history lecturers many years prior she remembered the name Leonidas faintly, Thermopylae even less so.

“You’re not afraid of me?” Claire asked

The laughter rose again.

“Afraid? We know no fear. It was foretold to us that on the eve of our most important battle we’d be sent a visage from Olympus. Your clothes a testament to that fact.”

Claire looked around realising only then how much she truly did stand out. Swooning none the less she noticed the spartan begin to lower their shields and place down their spears, slamming them into the dirt. Watching now with amazement her dick at full mast, she gazed at the godlike men as they lowered their garments, revealing long, tanned cocks. Veiny and thick Claire nearly passed out as she looked around the group.

Overwhelmed with excitement she quickly looked from man to man, each more perfect than the last. Finally meeting Leonidas visage she ran her lustful eyes down the length of him, studying his powerful legs and deep v lines. His abdominal muscles almost punching through his skin as he breathed.

Fuck. She thought, what were they gearing up for?

“What’re you doing?” She said barely able to get the words out between gasps, trying desperately not to faint.

“Bonding.”

It started beyond quickly, a flash was too slow to describe it. As if the syllable ignited the atmosphere, the horde of men descended on each other in a primal passion.

No kisses, no soft embrace, just raw power. The stronger men flipping the weaker in an animalistic wrestling match whereupon the winner pinned the loser to the dirt, puffs of dust obscuring the picturesque scene slightly.

As it cleared as the wind roared hard, Claire watched in amazement as the stronger warriors spread the toned rounded cheeks of the lessers and inserted their meaty members inside them.

No longer resisting the bottoms arched their backs allowing for a deeper range of motion from the alpha warriors. The familiar sound of deep thrusts, guttural moans and skin on skin slapping, ballsacks slapping up against hard bodies Claire felt herself become woozy.

The sight what a femboy like her could only dream of. It was a visual feast for the senses. Turning around to see the scene playing out all around her she felt a mighty hand grip her throat.

Excitedly the hand pulled her toward her, revealing it to be attached to Leonidas. With his other free hand he clasped her shirt and ripped it from her perky body with ease. Moments later doing the very same to the pants and, when they wouldn’t play along, he reached for his dagger, cutting Claire free of her confines.

“A woman good!” He said seconds before the pants were ripped asunder revealing the throbbing, precum dripping cock of Claire. Seeing this now, Leonidas smirked happily;

“Even better.”

Forcefully he pinned Claire down, any sense of romance exchanged in full for the hot, primal masculinity of a warrior. With pace Leonidas inserted his heavy weapon deep into Claire’s tight, readily waiting butthole.

The first thrust nearly knocking her unconscious from pleasure, she gripped clumps of grass as the strokes came on hard and fast. Moaning with her entire lungs, Claire yelled in exhilaration, the cries heard from all over the mountainside.

Like a real man, he had pushed her over the brink almost immediately, taking no time at all to give Claire a deep, powerful, g-spot orgasm. Spurting all over the hot cracked earth. Claire tried to push Leonidas out of her. To her surprise he compiled.

Spinning around now she took him in her mouth immediately, tasting the remnants of her own ass and his delicious pre cum all around the head and upper shaft.

Fuck! He hadn’t even slid himself all the way in!!

Like a demon possessed she sucked and sucked hard. With fearlessness she took his massive, unwieldy member down her throat its entirety. Feeling him throb inside her fuckable throat she began fondling herself, the saliva pouring over Leonidas’ kingly cock.

Opening her eyes as she pulled him out, kissing and massaging the dickhead with her tongue she watched as many soldiers had stopped their own intercourse to watch theirs, masturbating all the while.

Feeling his intensity build and his dick stiffen she took him from her mouth and began to Jack him off wildly, the grip so firm her her hand so soft. Pointing his mighty dick between her petite breasts, she grabbed her nipple with her free hand, twisting it with sadistic force.

“FUCK!” She screamed the moan enough to, alongside the ínstense jacking, cause Leonidas to release his royal semen all over her.

As if showering in the hot sun she raised her arms and hands, allowing Leonidas to spray her down with the final few pumps. The hot sticky liquid the most euphoric reward.

But it wasn’t to be over just yet as many soldiers piled around her, shooting their thick warm loads all over her feminine frame. First two, then five, then eleven. Before Claire new it, it felt like three hundred Spartans were basting her in their mighty, Olympic loads.

As the sea of semen washed over her, catching some in her hair, mouth and even feet, Claire smiled joyfully.

Feeling fulfilled she pressed the return beacon in her arm, watching as she dematerialised from the Spartans view. Fading from their existence she remembered, to her horror, those brave, sexy men would die at that place, laying down their lives for their homeland.

Unsure where she’d end up or when Claire merely smiled in the face of the endless, boundless void. At least she had made them happy as they stared down the barrel of their own morality.

Waiting in the darkness Claire felt her pride rise; she had already proven Burnie wrong; Ancient History wasn’t all bad.

—

This was a bit different to my normal writing. I hope you all enjoyed. There will be a part 2. Please let me know your thoughts xxx