The Inheritance Paradox
Copyright© 2026 by aroslav
Chapter 16 (Eugene’s Story)
Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 16 (Eugene’s Story) - A gripping tale of time travel, family secrets, and redemption. Nathaniel Holbrook uncovers his father’s extraordinary past, spanning centuries and shaping humanity’s future, while confronting profound truths about legacy, love, and identity. A thought-provoking journey through time, history, and the enduring bonds of family.
Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Historical Time Travel
“OH, EUGENE, I’m so happy for you!” Lynn cried. “Can I help you move in?”
Eugene had just been awarded the position of caretaker of the apartment building she lived in. She’d done much more than help him move in. She’d found the position and went to the apartment management to see if Eugene could get the job, and the accompanying apartment.
“There isn’t much to move, but I’d love to have your help,” he said.
It was Saturday and they planned to go on a date later that day anyway. They immediately set about emptying the Corvair of all Eugene’s worldly belongings and taking them into the furnished efficiency apartment.
The job was done for no pay other than the apartment in the basement. The building had been fully renovated, but the basement apartment had failed inspection because the window was too small. The company couldn’t legally rent it. But the owner decided he could let someone live there if they took care of vacuuming the floors and shoveling the walks. Major repairs were handled by the leasing company.
“You have so little,” Lynn said when they’d brought the last of his things in. “Are you okay, Eugene?”
“I guess that’s one way to look at it. On the other hand, I’m surprised my little car could hold all this stuff. It almost fills the apartment,” Eugene said.
He looked at Lynn and pulled her into his arms to hold.
“I guess you could say I don’t have much, but I’m rebuilding my life. And Lynn, you are a part of its foundation. It isn’t too soon for us to be living so close to each other, is it?”
“We’re not living with each other,” she said. “And for now, we should probably keep our visits short. But you have a phone here! I can call and talk to you sometimes.”
“Oh, give me your number and we can set a time when I should call you,” he said. “It’s not necessary for you to make the calls. It’s ... I mean ... You’re a girl. You shouldn’t be calling a guy.”
“Eugene! This isn’t the 1950s. I’m a modern woman and I can pick up the phone and call my boyfriend if I want to.”
“Am I really your boyfriend, Lynn?”
“I don’t know what else you’d call it! We’ve been dating for um ... six weeks? Wow! I think my mother was married in that amount of time.”
“We shouldn’t rush that. Let’s go on our picnic. I need to tell you about my journey last night.”
Their weekly dates were a high point for both of them. Eugene thought the Corvair handled a little differently with no baggage in it. The basket Lynn packed for the picnic hardly weighed anything. Nonetheless, once they got to the Michigan Dunes, they relaxed and enjoyed the beach and the water.
“So, last night, I was sent into a French town in Canada. I didn’t realize there was trafficking back in the 1820s. I found a house where six young women were being held and were to be sold off to wealthy patrons.”
“Oh, my! Did you have to have sex with all of them?”
“Oh, no. No, my dear. I know it might seem strange, but I try not to just have sex with women because they are available. It just ... It isn’t right.”
I can’t believe you just tell her these things, and she doesn’t think you’re a lunatic or a pervert.
“If I told her about you, I’m sure she would flee,” Eugene said softly.
“You don’t have to tell them about me,” Lynn said. “It’s just a dream. Use it to explore your past life.”
“Uh ... Yes.” Galahad was becoming more and more comfortable with commenting on everything in Eugene’s life and Eugene found he couldn’t shut the computer up.
“How long were you there?” Lynn asked.
“About a month.”
“My dreams never last that long. I’m usually in and out in an hour,” Lynn said. She treated all of Eugene’s stories as if he’d been dreaming or meditating or reliving a past life.
To some extent he couldn’t deny that. He left his car, transferred to Dr. Wells’s laboratory, was equipped for his venture, including having Galahad tuned up so he didn’t dump them in a lake again, and then he flew off to some other era to find and impregnate a random woman. When his task was done, he went back to the between place where Dr. Wells healed him of any injuries or if he had been exposed to a disease that might be contracted by someone in his own time. He then returned to his car exactly one second after having left it.
“I managed to free the young women without actually harming any of their captors. I had a wagon ready for them and as soon as they were out of the house, they jumped into the wagon and under the furs I’d collected. I drove southwest toward Toronto. We had to stay away from the roads where we might be encountered by the slavers, so it took several days before we got to Toronto.”
“They all lived in the wagon for that time?”
“All of us did. I’d provisioned the wagon for the trip, so they didn’t suffer. It was plenty warm beneath the furs.”
“Together. You with them,” Lynn speculated.
“Well, yes. We were quite cozy, but mostly respectable. I wasn’t there to traffic the women I’d just saved from it.”
“How did you communicate with them? Do you know French?”
“Well, I’m not sure all of them were even French,” Eugene said. “I could hear them speaking whatever languages they spoke, and I could just understand them. The same was true when I spoke. They just understood.”
“You see, that just proves that it is all a dream or a past life meditation,” Lynn said. “You just automatically understand and are understood.”
With a little help from your friend.
“Yes, I suppose so. One of the girls decided I belonged to her. While I got all the girls to a church where nuns took care of them, Angelique slipped back into my wagon and into my ... dream. I found it hard to leave her after that, but ultimately, she returned to the convent to be cared for by the nuns until she could find a permanent home. I do hope she was happy. It can’t have been easy to be a single mother in that age.”
“Of course, she was pregnant.”
“I can’t imagine she could escape it.”
She was.
“Well, then, your mission was accomplished. Do you know why the particular locations are chosen for your journeys?”
“I don’t understand the logic, though I was told it was because of migration patterns that would bring a lot of my descendants into the same region of the country. I suppose that means here in Michigan, but I don’t know why.”
They didn’t spend a great deal of time talking about sex, but Eugene could scarcely deny that was the purpose of his missions. Once the story had been told, however, Lynn was content to move on and not mention it again. They had been quite reserved about the progress of their own relationship. They held hands and Eugene found that simple act more thrilling than his escapades in a different time. At the end of their dates, they spent a few minutes kissing and had progressed as far as some light tongue kisses. Lynn said she was experienced, but he thought she might not have been as worldly as she sometimes seemed to be.
Two weeks later, like clockwork on a Friday night near midnight, Eugene was transported to the Laboratory Between Times. He’d come up with that name himself while telling Lynn of his adventures and Wells seemed to have no better suggestion. Ultimately, it was shortened to the LBT.
“What have we here?” Eugene asked when he had recovered from his disorientation. He looked over the clothes he’d been given.
“Going back to the Middle Ages,” Wells said. “I tracked some of the migratory patterns from Central Europe in the twelfth to fourteenth centuries to America by way of Spain and Portugal. I’m hoping by going back that far that we can plant the genetic material into a broad sample by the time they are boarding ships in the seventeen and eighteen hundreds.”
“What country are we headed to?”
“The countries weren’t really established the way we know them today.”
The area could have become Romania, Hungary, or Czechoslovakia. Lots of political upheaval and revolutions.
“We’re targeting the period soon after the fall of Constantinople in 1204. The Fourth Crusade created upsets that continued for nearly two centuries. Of course, the refugee situation had begun twenty years earlier when the Byzantine usurper started slaughtering the Latins. One wave of refugees is followed by another,” Wells said.
“And I should just find a likely candidate and leave a child?”
“Well, I have observed that you aren’t really having a difficulty finding a likely candidate. You could leave several children.”
“You seem to think it’s a lot easier than it is,” Eugene growled.
“There isn’t much in the way of firearms in the region yet, though gunpowder was being used for fusillades and bombardments. Hence, you will need a sword and a knife for self-defense—possibly to rescue a likely candidate.”
Try not to hurt yourself with them. They’re sharp.
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