Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Science Fiction, Time Travel, Pregnancy,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A man wakes up to find he has been transported 10,000 years into the future. His assignment is to repopulate the planet.
It felt like the power had gone off sometime during the night and I overslept. I lay in the bed with my eyes closed but I could tell it was too light for 6:30 in the morning. It was also surprisingly quiet. For the past eight years I'd heard a dripping faucet in the bathroom every time I lay in bed like this. For the past eight years I'd been putting it off till the weekend. The weekend would come around and fixing the sink was the last thing on my mind.
I missed the steady drip. I didn't hear the traffic going by on the main street just the other side of my fence. And the kids who should be running around in the front of the house were silent.
Something was wrong.
I thought back to last night. I was checking my favorite story site for any new stories. Chapter 81 of a story I'd never heard of had been added. It sounded like a good old romantic story from the description. What the hell. I'll check it out.
As I read, I ate a couple of microwaved dinners. And I had about a six pack of beer. And filled an ashtray with cigarette butts. I woke up at 2:30 in the morning with my chin on my chest. The monitor had timed out and was black. I wiggled the mouse and it came up in the middle of chapter 28. Good story. I bookmarked the main page and got off the web.
I went back to my bathroom, took a piss, looked over at my toothbrush, said "Forget it," and set the alarm for 6:30. I'd had an appointment for 8:30 in the morning. Now, something told me I was already late. It was too light.
I examined myself. Something was definitely not quite right this morning. My mouth should taste like shit about now. Not this morning. I could have kissed the most beautiful woman in the world and she wouldn't complain about my breath. She'd probably complain, but my breath wouldn't be an issue.
No urge to pee. In fact, I couldn't remember getting up in the middle of the night to pee. A six pack means 2 or 3 trips to the pisser before the alarm goes off and a "can't wait" feeling when I wake up. I felt below my stomach and got the next shock. No stomach.
Now, I don't mean no stomach. I mean no gut. I have a beer belly that's a classic. It's the reason I stay at home alone unless I'm forced to go out. They don't make a shirt that will cover my belly button for a full day. Now my stomach was flat and firm. I moved up and felt my chest. I've always had a strong upper body but had started to grow tits in the last couple of years. Nothing horrendous, but nothing a 12 year old girl would complain about, either. The tits were gone but there was definitely some muscle definition up there. My butt and my thighs were thinner and muscled. All in all, I'd say I had a 20 year old body in pretty decent shape as far as I could tell. Which would be pretty good if I wasn't 53 and had let my body go to hell over the past 10 years.
Reaching under myself to check out my butt and thighs also brought another discovery. I didn't feel any bed or any anything beneath me. I reached under myself in all directions, as far as I could reach and there was nothing. A quick swipe above my body found no strings. For lack of a better word, I was floating. And I couldn't roll over.
I've had days when I'll wake up and realize I had a hell of a dream last night. The most memorable are when I spend all night solving a problem. I'll come up with some weird solution, then kind of wake up, then go back to sleep and work on the solution some more, and repeat the cycle several times. It all makes perfect sense to me while I'm dreaming, but I can't remember any of it other than the fact it happened when I wake up. In fact, I can't even remember what the problem was and even if it was a real problem or one I just dreamed up.
The only solution I could come up now with was I was still in the dream and I'd forget it when I awoke. Maybe I was punishing myself for degrading my body over the years. Might as well enjoy it while I can.
I lay there for a while. Nothing happened. Usually I do things in my dreams. I was just laying there. I didn't even have any stimulation. I could feel my body but couldn't feel anything else. There was no sound. There was a sense that there was some light in the room or wherever I was but I hadn't opened my eyes to make sure. No smells, either. I counted to 1000. Nothing happened, nothing changed. I realized I was afraid to open my eyes.
What could happen if I opened my eyes? I'd see where I was. OK. What would be bad about seeing where I was? Things were not as they should be. All my perceptions of the way things should be were wrong. A body in good shape. No pee problem. Clean breath. Floating in midair. Now that I thought of it, not even the trace of a hangover. I was afraid I was going to open my eyes and find out I was in a straight jacket in the middle of a rubber room. Or I was just a brain floating by itself in a jar of liquid.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. Above me was a ceiling. I guess it was a ceiling. It wasn't sharp and distinct. Of course. I didn't have my glasses on. But they were reading glasses. I should be able to see the ceiling without them. My eyes must be getting worse. I could tell there was light coming from the ceiling but did not see any light fixtures.
I found I was able to turn my head to the left. There was a wall that had several screens on it. There were displays of some type but were unfamiliar. Maybe some kind of graph. A couple of them were changing, maybe as things changed. I got the idea they might be medical conditions. My medical condition. I looked harder to see if I could figure out what they were and see how I was doing but couldn't. Unlike the ceiling, the displays were crystal clear. Just for the hell of it I put my hand right in front of my face. I could see every feature. I hadn't been able to see that clearly that close without reading glasses for the last 5 or 6 years.
OK. I was in a hospital of some kind. I tried to sit up but felt restrained. Not like I had belts tied around my chest and legs. More like a blanket was stretched tight over my whole body and the edges of the blanket were tied down.
I turned to the right. I saw a door slide open. No noise. Where was this place? I tried to call out and found that my throat was dry and I couldn't. Before I could panic a nurse walked through the door.
I could tell she was a nurse even though she didn't look like any nurse I'd ever seen. Her hair was green on the right side, a reddish purple on the left with a black stripe down the middle. It came down to about where her collar would be if she had a collar. It curled under all around the sides and back. She kept the color scheme on her face. A black stripe down the middle, about the width of the gap between her eyebrows, hair line to under the chin. The colors were reverse. The right side of her face was purple, the left side green. She had reverse eyeshadow so there was a green eye in the purple side and vice versa. Her top lip was green, the bottom one purple.
She was definitely a woman. She had the classic hourglass shape. Her top was like a long strap. If you took a strap and put the middle behind her neck, crossed each piece down and over a breast, then continued and tied them just above her butt, you'd have her top. It look like a big X across her chest. Her breasts were completely covered but it appeared the strap was the only support. She had a skirt that was about 5" long. Both were starched white. That's how I could tell she was a nurse.
My immediate thought was "I hope my granddaughter doesn't see this. She makes Britney Spears look like a boy."
She looked at me and said "How are we feeling, Mr. Roy?" I pointed at my throat.
She said "How about some ice?" I nodded my head.
She then looked at the back wall next to my head and said "Ice." The wall opened up and there was a shelf with a cup of ice on it. Kind of like Star Trek. She picked up a couple of chips and put them on my tongue. I tried to bite her finger but she was too quick for me. "Naughty, naughty."
She let the ice melt and gave me the cup with the rest. The shape was right but I didn't recognize the material it was made out of. Once again, "Now that you can talk, how are we feeling, Mr. Roy?"
"I feel pretty good. Why don't you come over here and I'll tell you how you feel.?"
"My, my. You are a bad boy. I there anything I can tell you?"
"Where am I?"
"You're in the terminal recovery room."
"Recovery room? What happened to me?"
"Oh, you don't know? On the 5th of January in 2005 you died, Mr. Roy."