The Time Traveler’s Husband

The fleshy meat bags all stood silently fallen leaves hovered motionlessly in midair. Manifesting into the corporeal realm had been a very fun experience for the Warden of Time when she’d first managed to force superimpose her avatar on reality, but the novelty of a world of statues had warned off on Ouro Kronii. So long as the Warden was manifested, the flow of time she guarded and watched over stopped flowing. Her physical existence was a great dam obstructing the winding river of time, causing it to stagnate and pool.

When she’d first manifested she’d done what any newly materialized formerly entirely conceptual multi-billion-year-old being would do… have sex. Now there was a certain difficulty to this as it necessitated finding a human who was already in the process of having sex and then physically removing his lover from atop him allowing Kronii to mount his already hard temporally frozen member.

Her first time was, like most first times, awkward, a little bit painful, and not entirely satisfactory. The time god had, despite her millennia observing humanity, no real understanding of the human physical form. So when she began to bleed for the first time as the frozen member of the Roman Senator pushed inside her, she began to panic. She was in pain, she was bleeding, she was dying, and yet as she ascended from the human dick that she had willingly embedded inside herself she found her hips descending again. Almost rhythmically, she rose and descended again, feeling the sharp sting of pain and the strangely fulfilling sense of pleasure as she ground herself against the warm fleshy ape beneath her.

When the orgasm came, the time god wasn’t prepared. There was a rising force pushing itself inside her core, like the flow of time as churning against the constraints of the great dam that her physical existence created. It wanted out, and with each subsequent thrust against the frozen man’s hips, Kronii felt more and more frantic as the force of time threatened to push through her and expel her from the physical plane, tossing her back into the conceptual. She was so close… to what she didn’t know or at least didn’t fully understand, but the pleasure had eclipsed the pain and she knew that whatever she was close to, she had to reach it before it was too late. And then it shook her. The pent-up frustration of observing sexual reproduction for the 1.2 billion years since the Proterozoic Eon suddenly exploded out of her as her body violently shook. Her nails dug into the human’s chest as her hips bucked without her control.

“Is this what dying feels like,” Kronii asked as she felt herself become light-headed.

Her hands firmly planted on the human’s chest, her nail digging so deeply that where time to be flowing regularly it would draw blood, Kronii could barely support herself as she fell forward. Before her, still clothed, breasts could collide with the naked chest of the nobleman beneath her, the will to maintain herself broke down and she faded or reality. With the flow of time restored, the Roman Senator found himself violently cumming while his wife found herself falling to the floor.

Kronii would find that every time she manifested into reality, her body was like new. Her toes were as straight as a baby’s and any physical injuries she’d suffered in her previous incarnation had vanished. She soon found that also meant that almost every sexual encounter was her first, her hymen having returned with each manifestation. There was something quite tiresome about the pain and the blood, every time she wanted to have sex, but she grew accustomed to it.

There was something enchanting about the physical that made the ancient thing smile for the first few centuries after she learned how to manifest but as the neverending march of time pushed forward, the novelty of it all began to fade. One evening in the mid-16th century, the Warden of Time found her arms wrapped around a slightly overweight Mayor of some city in the Rhineland she knew nothing about and cared even less about. Her soft black hair messily covered his chest as she held him, imagining what it might feel like to be held by him in turn.

“You lasted a pretty long time, this time,” she joked, dryly as she rubbed her soft hairless left leg against the grey hairs that covered his own.

This was not Kronii’s first time. For the equivalent of sixty-seven years, five months, twelve days, and three hours, the Warden of time had been fucking and snuggling with the man that lay beside her. It was by far the longest she’d managed to remain in the physical world, though every instant that passed she could feel the powerful river that was the time stream pushing against her.

“It’s not fair,” she mumbled before lifting herself up and looking at the frozen man beneath her.

“You’ve got nothing to say? Really? I give you seven decades of the best years of my life, and you’ve got nothing to say?” There was a strangely muted manic feeling to her words as she glared at the man she’d spend a human lifetime with.

“You always do this. I try and talk to you about how I’m feeling and you shut down. Sometimes I wonder if you even love me,” she said with a huff before getting out of bed.

She grabbed her clothes from the floor, her naked body illuminated by the light of a fire place that had been burning for decades.

“The least you could do is comfort, me when I’m feeling bad.”

As was the norm, there was no response from the mayor. He lay in bed frozen, the prostitute he’d hired to take care of his needs 67 years early floating in mid-air not far from the bed. He didn’t know Ouro Kronii. He had no way of even understanding her existence, yet, at the age of 45, he had spent more time with her than he had spent without. He wasn’t worried when Kronii, incredibly intoxicated fell from the bell tower atop the city’s cathedral. He didn’t come to her aid as she yelled and screamed out in pain, unable to move her legs because of the compound fractures and her broken spine. He wasn’t sad when, tears welling up in her eyes, she allowed herself to fade away.
“I’m so fucking lonely,” Kronii mumbled as she walked through the streets of Victorian London, circa 1895.

“I need to stop doing this… It’s really no healthy, “ she mused before fading away.

As her flesh dematerialized and time began to flow again, she felt something she’d never felt before. She was being dragged forward. The great uniformity of time, occasionally warped by only the most massive of spatial distortions began to rush forward like water passing through an ever smaller hole until the pressure created a powerful torrent.

Something was wrong.

The torrent of Time fought against its Warden as it had never fought before. Trying desperately to block Kronii’s manifestation into reality as it was guided by a new master. Yet try as this strange force might to best the Warden, it was no match for Kronii as she forced her way into existence, in the city of Richmond, England.

As Kronii oriented herself after her rushed and strange manifestation, she saw a man. It was the strangest thing she had ever seen. The machine he was tinkering with was odd, but Kronii had seen a great many strange machines since the humans had begun the Industrial Revolution so that wasn’t the odd thing. The man looked very normal. Certainly, he was dressed well and the goggles he wore over his eyes were a bit different from the fashion of the day, but there was nothing particularly strange about his person. No, what was strange was that he was mumbling and fiddling with the machinery of the strange device.

“I don’t get it, it was working. I’m 5 hours into the future, so why did it stop?” the man grumbled while pulling a socket wrench from his pocket.

Kronii watched in a state of shock as the man fiddled about with his machine, not noticing her for a good two minutes before dropping a lug-nut that rolled towards her feet.

When Kronii, at last, caught the time traveler’s attention he looked at her for a moment without saying anything. A million thoughts seemed to pass through the traveler’s head before one question sort of just fell out of his mouth.

“Who the hell are you?”

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Pub: 04 Sep 2021 22:31 UTC

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