Passages In Time
Chapter 2 - The Laying of Claim

Copyright© 2001 by Alan C. McDonald

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - The Laying of Claim - A client visits a prostitute in a seedy Manchester brothel. And thousands of years in the past, the fate of a group of alien travellers hinges on the outcome of this unusual encounter.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Romantic   Fiction   Science Fiction   Historical   Rough   Anal Sex  

SIBERIA, 10,000 BC

Time passed around her.

Well, that was one way of putting it.

More accurately, time slipped.

Or more accurately still, time became a circle rather than a line, a thing without end or beginning. And while Sarah found this disorientating, she did not find it either unfamiliar or frightening. She had stepped through the fissure that Gary had opened for her, onto the spinning circle, with practised ease.

Of course, she couldn't understand the how of it, or the when of it. But she knew that she had travelled this way before.

She still referred to the clear voice in her mind as Gary, even though she understood that the voice was many voices, had many names, that if Gary was now one of those voices, then he was the least of them.

"It's a long road, Loranna." Gary's words were an echo in the centre of her head. "It won't be an easy one. And until you return, only part of us can ever be with you. And the assistance we can provide will be minimal at first. Although it will grow."

She had known all of that. But until he had said it, she had not known that she knew it. It was all so odd.

She understood the implication. He was indicating that whilst he could take her to the beginning, to where she needed to be, that was all, for now, that could be expected of him.

And she understood the way things were.

In some other place, within the circle and simultaneously outside the circle, a young man named Gary Andrew Callery was frozen in coition with a young lady named Sarah Margaret Gunn, frozen at a moment of maximum penetration. Sarah's skin was flushed, her nipples swollen with blood. Her climax was in full flood, and Gary's was impending.

In this place, neither within the circle nor entirely outside it, could be found the essence that truly was Sarah Margaret Gunn, an incorporeal essence which felt to Sarah Margaret Gunn entirely corporeal, even though the body that she thought she owned could not be seen.

And she was not alone within that body, nor within her mind. It was now obvious that Loranna was growing stronger all the time, was fusing with Sarah in a way that, because of the knowledge and certainty the union promised, she welcomed.

As for the essence that truly was Gary Andrew Callery, well, she only knew that he was safe. And that, extracted from him, guiding her now, was a part of him that had never truly been a part of him...

"At first", the guide went on, "the judgements will be difficult to make. You must always be sure of likelihood, and of timing. You can't afford a single mistake. We've tried this before, you know, and we've always failed. Be wary. Because it may be fifty, one hundred, even two hundred years before we can try again. By which time this planet may be reduced to ash, and we along with it."

Again, he had told her something that she already knew. But she didn't resent his force. As he had said, it was vital that no mistakes be made. He was entitled to try to satisfy himself that she was clear on that.

She assured him that yes, she was clear, but the assurance was unspoken. It was conveyed instead as a thought.

"The first place we have to visit, thankfully, is safe", he advised. "The thing that you must make happen there has happened every time we have pursued the union, and probably will always happen. The variables, you see, are minor. But after we are through that event, matters will not proceed quite so simply. In other cases, there are many variables, many problems. Often only determination can make history unfold as we wish it to."

"It's for me to instil the need, isn't it?", she realised. "Before I enter the being."

"Indeed it is", he agreed. "It must be before. Because once you enter the being, you will become the being."

"Like Loranna lost herself in me", she guessed.

"The relationship between you as Sarah and you as Loranna is slightly different", he pointed out. "You will understand why as your journey progresses. But yes, the effects are similar. Effects like the submergence of personality. Sarah, once you merge with another being, the only things which will survive of you will be the needs you refer to. The needs which you have instilled."

"And if those needs are not resolved", she realised, "then the game is lost."

"If the union is not concluded", he confirmed, "then you will become trapped again. In the body that you inhabit. And we will have failed. Again."

While he had been speaking, she had become aware that time was no longer passing around her.

Well, that was one way of putting it.

More accurately, time had refocussed.

Or more accurately still, time became a line rather than a circle, linear and visible.

As though from behind a hazy mist, she was looking out over a landscape which seemed entirely alien. A great plain spread out before her, peppered with plants and shrubs resplendent in the deepest reds, browns and greens, covered with grass that must have been two feet high. In the middle distance was a forest, which snaked back towards her on the left. Over the forest hung a heat haze. To her right was a broad river, running with such violence and speed that it appeared uncrossable without the aid of a bridge. On the other side of that river was another plain, much like the one upon which she stood.

The place was alive with noise. The buzzing of insects. Odd birdlike sounds. Crickets, and the occasional cries of frogs and other reptiles. She wondered for a confused moment whether she had travelled in space as well as time.

Gary remained silent, so she prompted him by asking, "What is this beautiful place?"

"Earth, of course", he advised. "What else could it be?"

"But how could it be?", she disagreed. "Earth when? Earth where?"

"When is ten thousand BC", he told her, and she could hear the smile. "Approximately. Where is an area that will come to be known as Southern France. You have been here before, you know."

"If you say so", she allowed, "but I don't recognise anything." She surveyed the terrain again. Everything seemed bright, clean, immense, wild.

"We didn't have too much time to look around then", Gary said. "And we don't now. We have to concentrate on the man. That's the important thing."

The man?

Yes, she realised. There was a man. He was making his way through the waist high grass towards the river.

She studied him. He was short and stocky, naked to the waist, beneath which fur flaps, suspended from a thong, covered his modesty.

But he was too far away for Sarah to see him clearly. She when she wished that she was a little closer, the wish became reality, as though she had been staring through a camera lens, and it had adjusted to close up. The fact that she had such control did not surprise her. In retrospect, she realised that she had expected it. Her study intensified.

The man was of indeterminate age, although he was not old. And he was just about the hairiest human that Sarah had ever seen. His chest, arms and the backs of his hands were a black carpet, and his face had never known a shave. His brown eyes were slits, his nose pugnaciously large, his mouth, which hung open with exertion revealing sharp white teeth, was wide and red. There was an animalistic cruelty about him.

Sarah was horrified. "Surely I don't have to seek union with him?", she said. "I don't think I could bear it."

"Not with him", she was told. "Worse, in fact. You must become him. As for the essence of our friend, well, that must be released from another."

She was confused. "There is no other."

"You will find her", the guide informed, "in the river."

Three things occurred to Sarah all at once. The first was agreement with the voice that the thought of inhabiting the body of the appalling savage she saw before her was unbearable. The second, oddly, was a thrill, born in the probability that she was about to experience the sex act from a male point of view, that she would know the nature of sensations which had always intrigued her. And the third was curiosity.

She wanted to know just who might be swimming in such a dangerous river.

For the moment, that curiosity won out, and she swung the notional camera lens in the direction of the raging waters. As she did so, the woman was washed ashore.

At first, it seemed that she was dead. She lay on the river bank, unmoving, white. But then she shuddered, and her chest started to heave as she coughed up the huge amount of water that she had swallowed. Then she pulled herself up onto her knees, still coughing. Gradually, she started to reclaim her life.

Her sodden black hair was very long, and it hung down, obscuring her face, but from what Sarah could see of her, which was quite a bit because the woman was entirely naked, she seemed to be young and attractive. She was shapely, with strong hips and a taut waistline, and her breasts were big enough that they hung pendulously, rocking as she recovered from her ordeal.

"You need to connect", the guide insisted.

"Not yet", Sarah appealed. "I want to see her face."

"There isn't time", he replied. "I said that this first place was safe. And it is. But only if we watch the clock. You must be where you need to be before the event occurs."

She played for time. "I'm still not sure. I don't know what to do."

"You know exactly what to do", he stated. "You must release Melira. Your counterpart. And you can only do so by performing the act."

"But he's awful", she objected. "How can I become him?"

"You don't become him", Paul said. "This early in the procedure, you will be submerged within him. Afterwards, you'll remember. But at the time, you won't be aware. Loranna is within you, and so you know the stakes. There truly is no choice."

He was right, of course. But it was so hard. Mere minutes ago, she had never conceived of the need to make such decisions. Decisions upon which the lives of so many rested.

So hard. And so damned unfair.

"I just hate the thought", she grumbled.

"You don't have to like it, Sarah", he replied, correctly identifying that her sentiment was not shared by Loranna. "But you do have to do it. And soon. If you don't want our fate on your conscience."

She sighed, then conceded. "What do I do?"

"Go to the man", he instructed. "Make him think of the need. Concentrate upon him, and make him think of the need."

"The need", she repeated. And she adjusted her view again, brought it back to include the man, closed in upon him...

Nearer...

He had stopped walking, and was staring dreamily at the sky. His stillness smoothed his rough edges somewhat, made him seem less fearsome.

Sarah allowed room for the possibility that the experience might not be quite as bad as she feared.

And as further encouragement, there was the exciting prospect of becoming a male, of experiencing copulation from the point of view of a male. Wasn't there?

So she concentrated. On the need. You need the woman, she told him. You need her. And she felt the power of Loranna, enhancing the message, making it live.

Suddenly she was aware of the smell of the grass, and of its light touch, of the warm wind and the heat of the sun. Suddenly she felt the essence of him in her, the strength of him and the surprising sadness of him.

You need the woman.

You need her.

Suddenly she was no longer looking at him. Instead, she was looking at his life. Remembering it.

Becoming the result of it.

Loranna seemed familiar with the absorption, and her calmness was a comfort as Sarah felt her individuality begin to ebb away.

There was a moment when he recognised her presence. You need the woman, he thought. You need her.

Then the presence was gone and, as before, he was alone. Alone and lonely.

But his attention span was short, and even loneliness did not bother him for long. Shaking his head to clear it, he returned to his close observation of the firmament.

In particular, he watched the twinkling lights far above him, as he so often did when the blackness descended, and as usual he was consumed by wonder. He did struggle with such complex things as concepts, but distance was one which he could almost grasp, and he believed that those pinpoints were many days away from him.

The distance was of course irrelevant, because he could never walk to the lights. He understood that they were not for such as he.

After quite some time, it occurred to him that he was hungry. His hunting had fared poorly recently, and he hadn't eaten for three days.

But there was no cure for it. He would not cross the river, for the men who lived on its other bank had already shown their hostility by waving weapons at him when he looked for fish. And the journey back to his own people, even had he wished to make it, was far too long. He would never survive it.

In any event, he would rather die than return. Having lost his woman to another in his tribe, all that waited for him in the place of his birth was humiliation and quite possibly death.

He tried to recall what had happened. Often, it seemed that the facts were fading, and then he would capture them, like a fish on a stake.

She had been a fine woman. She had borne him eight children, two of whom had survived. But he had recently developed a sickness, which had laid him low for many days, and during that time he had not been able to provide for her. He had only been able to lie prone, feeling hot and sick, watching his family starve.

And then another had come to feed the woman, and his children, another who was weaker than most of the tribe, and without his own woman.

The man had been too weak to fight for what was his, and as a result what was his had been lost.

When he had recovered, and yes, he had recovered, fully, the tribe's law had ostracised him. He could have fought for his past, of course, and he would probably have won.

But he'd found no wish to fight.

Because he hadn't wanted her any more.

And so he had begun his long walk, a walk which had brought him here, to the river. And to the twinkling lights which, suddenly, reclaimed his attention.

He had seen something. Out of the corner of his eye. Something unusual.

Yes. There. A light, slightly brighter than the others, slightly larger than the others. A light which seemed to be moving.

It seemed to be moving towards him.

It seemed to be taking on shape.

Noise assailed him, a roaring which made his ears hurt. He fell to his knees in supplication.

He theorised. The theory became fact.

Beings greater than he were angry. They were destroying the night. Could he, he alone, mollify them?

Now the star filled his vision, seeming to move beneath the clouds. It dipped and weaved, as though uncomfortable in the sky.

It was composed from a material he had never before seen, something which reflected the glare emerging from the circular holes all around it. The centre of the object, which was also circular, appeared to be spinning slowly.

A new theory. Was this, perhaps, a visit from the God of the Sun? A visit to him? Had he done something so bad in losing his woman that even the God could not forgive him?

Was he to be punished?

He was stricken with fear, unable to move. He gaped at the object as it came closer, ever closer...

And then there was another terrible noise, a noise over and above the existing terrible noise, a noise like mountains grinding together.

The object started to come apart. Pieces split away, tumbling downwards, crashing to the earth. The ground was shaking with these impacts, and it seemed that he would not retain his footing.

Still the awful disintegration continued. There was nothing he could think of to do but scream, so he did that.

Suddenly, there was a flash, then heat so intense that he felt the skin of his cheeks start to burn.

Yes, he decided, the God had come to punish him. Just him.

 
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