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Jenny Time

Written by Akane :: [Saturday, 10 August 2019 23:39] Last updated by :: [Saturday, 22 January 2022 20:32]

Art by KawaiiDreamyPixiebakki, Elwenz, Shimimaru and savisr

Edited by Rhys86


 

August 12, 2120 AD - Toronto, Canada

The first light of a new summer day peeked through the half-opened windows of the gigantic mansion, caressing one side of Jennifer Martinette’s perfect face. 

“Morning already?” Caught by surprise, the lady of the house blinked and then giggled. The sound echoed, not only because of the sheer size of the private studio in which the dawn  had found her, but because the Canadian Super-Goddess was currently sub-divided into into some fifty or sixty forms, so as to better commit to the many art projects that had been the simultaneous focus of her attention these past few hours. Now each of her multiple bodies set down their brushes, palettes, pens, chisels and styluses and took in the mess that her artistic euphoria had made of their surroundings.

“Oh dear,” they laughed again, speaking in unison. “I got carried away again.” 

Discarded canvasses littered the floor, each bearing freshly-painted masterpieces that she had thrown aside in dissatisfaction. The walls were all but hidden by the sheer number of sketches that had been pinned to them, each showing the steady and meticulous genius of a modern DaVinci. One end of the room was set aside as a workshop, where half-finished statues rose from mountains of pulverized granite and marble. The carvings were surrounded by an entire scrapyard’s worth of cast-off metal work that had been artfully arranged into sculptures, covered in a uniform coat of the same dusty rubble. And on the upper tier, where her digital studio resided, over-taxed server-clusters and mainframes whirred and bleeped in alarmed protest, brought to the verge of meltdown by the sheer volume of material that Jennifer’s many hands had drawn, edited, designed and rendered in the course of the night.

And that was just the surface mess. A Super Goddess losing awareness of herself had effects that went beyond the mere physical. Unrestrained, the luscious silvery-brown manes of each of the duplicated Jennifers had grown out and overran the room in the manner of nature reclaiming some jungle temple. Thick vines of silky hair now snaked across the floors and around her creations, toppling random tables and desks, creeping up the studio’s structural ironwork to hang from the skylights and ceiling girders like tangles of ivy. 

The ripple effects spread beyond even the mansion’s walls. Through the half-opened windows, Jennifer could perceive passionate moans and the lusty aroma of sex: it seemed that her unregulated sex hormones had permeated into the water supply, with the result that most of southern Ontario’s adult population were now engaging in a collective orgy. The Greater Toronto Area practically stank of sex.

“Careless, so careless,” she lightly scolded herself, pulling her duplicated forms back into a single point, transmuting all that excess hair into a swarm of golden butterflies. And on the subject of carelessness, she seemed to have picked up some surplus biomass during the night. Oops.

"Sorry guys, but you can't stay here forever!" Apparently talking to the thin air, Jennifer yawned and stretched her arms, her enormous chest puffing out in the process. One blinding flash of light later, and about a dozen confused, naked and extremely gorgeous people shared the room with her, having been projected out from her body in that pulse of energy. It had tickled, but Jennifer held back another round of giggles and schooled herself. These were her domestic staff, the wonderful Enhanced individuals that looked after the mansion and the needs of the estate, and it seems she had taken liberties with them.

“My deepest apologies,” the Super Goddess bowed. “I got a little carried away last night.” That was an understatement, given that she had apparently let herself sufficiently go as to assimilate nearby persons into her superior biomass. The fact that her staff were superhuman Enhanced, powerful Demi-Gods in their own right, and had still been helpless to resist the absorption process, spoke not only to the terrifying might of a Super Goddess, but to how dangerously wrapped-up in her projects Jennifer had become. “This was entirely my fault. Please, take today off.”

With a wave of one manicured hand, she teleported her staff off to their own homes, sending each on their way with a telepathic kiss on the cheek. Tying her much-compressed hair up into a girly ponytail, Jennifer finally turned to the centrepoint of her creative endeavors, a project that she had been refining now for many months.

The work in question was set up on a draped-over easel, and sitting herself down before it on the provided stool, Jennifer uncovered… a blank canvas.

Or so it would seem to meager human perception, possessing nothing that could be seen, heard, felt or smelt by conventional senses. Jennifer perceived the whole of the piece however, saw every dimension and curve of her sketched creation, and rising to her feet she took it into her arms, embracing the being that floated three-dimensionally over the canvas like a hologram of pencil-lines and pen-strokes. She kissed it deeply, plunging her tongue into a moist and receptive mouth entirely invisible to mortal eyes. It was a sublime and glorious thing, that she herself had drawn out of paper and graphite, and yet Jennifer’s febrile imagination could only think of how to improve upon the beauty and uniqueness of her masterpiece. As she kissed her creation, her free hand went to work, essaying with deft dashes of pencil the legs that would allow it to abandon the canvas, to escape from its confinement.

It yearned for that release, for that escape, and was just easing Jennifer into another creative daydream when another person entered the studio through a fold in space-time, her warm breasts pressing against the Super Goddess’s back. Jennifer shivered in arousal at the contact, and in that instant the spell broke, and the sketch reverted to a two-dimensional collection of lines and curves on canvas, once more under her control.

“Guess who?” The visitor purred in her ear. Jennifer could only smile in response.

“A cute lady with big boobs?” she cooed playfully, feeling another happy frisson run though her when a deft pair of hands loosened her ponytail and allowed her hair to fall loose.

“I prefer it when you wear your hair down, you look so much sexier.” There was a hungry growl in that voice, and Jennifer arched her back against the body of the other woman.

“You always know how to push my buttons, Britney. I love it.”

“And I love you, darling.” Britney responded, holding Jennifer safe and warm in a superhuman hug that could have collapsed stars.

It was a curious situation. Britney Altwater was not a Super Goddess herself, but an ultipotent Enhanced, every inch a master of creation in her own right, yet still just a speck against true omnipotents like Jennifer. And yet despite that difference in status, and the fact that Jennifer had been the one to bestow these well-deserved superpowers upon Britnney, the other woman had a knack for twisting the living divinity right around her finger, especially during these ad-hoc sexual liasons.

"A very interesting piece of art indeed… what marvels are you conjuring today, Jenny?” Britney asked, maintaining her embrace and allowing her hand to drift down to Jennifer’s crotch. “Creating life from whole cloth?”

“An invisible homunculus…” The younger woman moaned in bliss, and brought her pencil back up, outlining higher-dimensional shapes and forms upon the canvas. "What about you Britney, I thought you were exploring the outer limits of the Universe?" She didn't look back at the perfect body of her lover, instead reveling in the embrace and channeling those warm feelings into her work, morphing the body within the canvas with masterful strokes of her pen and brush, the flesh they defined reshaping like putty at the hands of their magical creator.

“I was…” The ultipotent laid a series of cute kisses on her goddess's swan neck, prompting Jennifer to giggle like a schoolgirl. "But sometimes this hyper-developed brain you gave me is filled with thoughts of you, flowing over with fantasies where I leave you moaning and begging me for more. Once those thoughts manifest, I can't bring myself to wait more than a few picoseconds before rushing over here and fucking you cross-eyed…" Her hands were now slipped under the hem of Jennifer’s shorts, stroking dangerous places that left the Super-Goddess blushing and panting.

"Oh, you’re playing dirty here…" Jennifer protested, but she did not resist, mewling with submissive delight when Britney leaned in to sniff her exotic scent, kiss her butterfly-shaped earring and rest her head against Jennifer’s own. "Everyone does that, now you too?!"

"I remember you when you were a baby in diapers, don’t think I’ll easily kowtow to your Super Goddess status." Britney whispered in her ear, leaving Jennifer wanting to melt into an orgasmic little puddle, and Britney herself with the tiger-by-the-tail thrill that could only come with playing dom to a super-being. With her hyper-enhanced senses, the ultipotent could LITERALLY hear the distant rumble of  Jennifer’s prodigious mind at work, the chatter of infinite synapses sounding like a supercomputer, impossibly fast and efficient, crunching every scrap of data down to its constituent bits and bytes. It turned her on like nothing else, the truth that her cute little urchin had grown into this sexy and unstoppable avatar of creation, so much so that her underwear was practically flooded with her liquid arousal. To Britney, Jennifer was the perfect being, and there was nothing else she wanted more than to make her feel good, even if she had to take the reins to do it. "And thanks to you, I’m finally able to keep pace, don't you think…?" She smiled, pleasuring Jennifer's pussy with lightspeed-fast fingers.

"Mmm…” Jennifer crooned, a golden aura beginning to suffuse her entire body as she was coaxed towards climax. “You want to trigger a Super Orgasm, am I right? What a smartass…" She smiled smugly, and just as suddenly flipped the script and assumed control of this little liaison. "What if I make this more fun, and first show you another project of mine?" 

Placing her palms together like a Buddha, Jennifer closed her eyes and focused. And at that moment, in every place worldwide that could be considered a seat, there grew a penis. Big, meaty and girthy dicks, phallic monuments to masculinity, they sprouted up from benches and seat-cushions, penetrated those adult women sitting upon them, and blessed them with the sexual experience of their lives. Those lady bystanders who found themselves standing on their feet at the time only needed a moment to examine Jennifer’s magical members before deducing that only a Super Goddess could be responsible, and literally jumped on the opportunity to be drilled by a divine dick. For many, this was technically cheating, but needless to say the experience was totally worth whatever breakups or divorces may follow.

The whole planet’s female population surrendered in an instant to Jennifer's new experiment, and Britney was no exception. She too was suddenly spit-roasted by a giant dick that grew up out of the stool she was sitting on. It was glorious and transcendent, but unlike the majority of Jennifer’s new lovers, as an Enhanced she could still think straight while taking it. "W-What does this have to do with art?"

"Take a look!" Jennifer laughed, prompting a giant screen to pop into existence before them. It showed Britney's cock-crazed face, but there was something special about it, and with their superior vision it was clear to the two of them that the image was actually composed of pixels, each one a tiny video, of every single woman in the world getting ravaged by the magical dicks, faces rapturous with shameful lust. A true artist, Jennifer started refining the image, fine-tuning each tiny frame with precision taps of her nails, sending new waves of pleasure out into the world and into the cunnies of the women depicted in those pixels. With the aid of inhuman speed, she brought the planet to a simultaneous orgasm, and captured the image for posterity in the exact moment when every person within it came hard, then passed into an exhausted, satisfied coma.



Britney came alongside them, and had just enough time to see her own orgasmic face, made up of billions of other faces, before the sheer pleasure overwhelmed even her Enhanced self, and she passed out. 

Then the world broke, torn apart by the diffusion of that divine orgasm, only to be instantly remade by Jennifer and her Super-Goddess sisters, whole and intact, with no mortal left the wiser as to their recent death by divinely dominating dicks, bar some very arousing trace-memories that would manifest in their dreams and fantasies.

When Britney next opened her beautiful eyes, the first thing she saw was a naked Jennifer. Thanks to her powerful brain, the Enhanced woman gained instantaneous situational awareness and understood the awesome truth: she had just been exposed to a Super Orgasm… no, she had just been exposed to a Super Orgams and survived. Now she was being tended to by a Super Goddess herself, spread out on the giant bed at the heart of Jennifer’s harem room, itself as big as a palace,  decorated as an ancient Roman thermae. 

They were not alone, and their company was weird to say the least. Clones of both Jennifer and herself were already fucking half of the girls in the harem like there was no tomorrow, while the original Jennifer knelt on the bedsheets and offered her some hot coffee. 

"I'm totes impressed, Britney! You survived a Super Orgasm, and those are supposed to be reserved for Super Goddesses only. You’re absolutely hardcore." Jennifer kissed her beloved as a reward for her resilience. "Honestly, I’ve been wanting to figure out a more creative and artistic way of triggering one beyond… you know… using a dildo. Irina is a genius among geniuses, but she's definitely a function over form person." She chuckled deliciously. "You and I have been at it for days while your conscious mind recovered."

Britney smiled knowingly, stealing another look at the ongoing orgy, the moaning and panting being impossible to ignore. "Well I prefer what we are doing now over that, but why is the dressed version of yourself the one I'm currently NOT fucking?"

Jennifer’s grin could have lit entire worlds. "Because I’m about to head out on my next project. I'm going to travel back in time to deliberately change history!"

"Okay, but for what reason? Isn't that dangerous for the space-time continuum?"

"Not at all! Let me show you.”

“Wait, just a mo-"

And then Jennifer ceased to exist in that frame of reality, just like that, leaving Britney in the company of clone-Jennifer and the rest of the girls, entrusted with keeping one another entertained.

Now standing outside of time, the Super Goddess walked slowly back along a sepia-colored trail that contained all of human history, playing out like an old roll of Super 8 roll film. Humming a cute lullaby, hands behind her back, Jennifer began to skip happily up and down the timestream, determining when was the best time for her to make an appearance in the flow of events. For someone not bound to a limited perception of dimensions, travel through time was second nature to her. It was all at her fingertips - the discovery of fire, the origin of the Xia Dynasty, the assassination of Julius Caesar, the fall of Constantinople, World War I.

“So cliche, I’d rather go with something less well-trodden. Ah! There!”

And with her destination set, she dove into one of the negatives.



April 29, 1752 BC - Southern Britannia

Jennifer carefully floated down into a verdant glade, surrounded by the many endless hectares of virgin forest that covered the British Isle eighteen centuries before the birth of Christ, and more than four millennia before the birth of M’Wela, the first Super Goddess. Despite that, Jennifer could feel her sisters at this point in time, for in the moment a Super Goddess acquired her omnipotence, she became a constant in the cosmic song that existed both forward and back in the stream of events, existing simultaneously at every moment in time and space, completely removed from the laws of cause and effect.

That changed with a snap of her fingers, at which point Jennifer branched the flow of time and split off a new stream, creating a new timeline from this point forwards, one of her own creation. Everything continued as it was, but now, half a pace sideways from her place of origin, this became a private reality to which only Jennifer had outside access. The echoes of the other Super Goddesses vanished from her perception, leaving her the sole divinity and creator of this world.

Enjoying the clean and fresh air, the new Goddess of all creation chose to strip down, exposing her perfect, naked body to the world, triggering an explosion of pheromones around her. As she explored, bathing in the smells and sounds of a time when everything was simpler and more closer to nature, animals came to her side. Butterflies and birds sat upon her head and shoulders, while a few red squirrels joined her on her journey. It was like the entire forest was paying tribute to the newly-arrived mistress of existence.

Pausing in a grove of trees, Jennifer caressed one of their trunks. 

"Perfect, this is the ideal blank page on which to paint my project, now I just need to get started." At her magical touch, the tree basically came to life, delicate feminine features forming in the bark, sweet sap and nectar flowing from heavy breasts, erotic moans emerging from the lips and face that grew out at Jennifer’s eye-level.

“Hello, mother!” The little dryad greeted, and Jennifer answered with a kiss and a smile, giggling at the fact that even plants became horny in her presence, answering to her pampering as if they were human.

“Welcome to the world kiddo. How about you come out and help me share this gift with your sisters?”

A branch sprouted into an arm, and taking its hand Jennifer pulled the nubile young nature-spirit out of the tree and into her arms. The branches of the tree, still bonded to its child, shivered in aroused harmony, a few leaves rustling to the ground.

“Come…” Jennifer greeted the new life with an affectionate smile. “Spread the gift of intelligence with the other trees.”

Then she snapped up a hand and caught something. It was a bronze spear-head, lashed to a wooden stave, and Jennifer had caught it between two fingers millimeters before it impaled the newborn dryad in the eye. The nature-girl yelped and jumped skittishly back into the trunk of her native tree, while Jennifer turned towards the source of the attack, smiling calmly as ever.

She had been found by a young hunter, probably an apprentice seeking to prove his manhood by catching a big animal. She could see a combination of fear and arousal in his boyish eyes, presumably a reaction to the wood-nymph that had spooked his attack, or herself, a stark-naked woman of indescribable beauty. He tried to snatch the spear back, but found it frozen in her tremendous grip. Realizing something was very wrong he began to back away, yelling at her in some archaic tongue that sounded nothing like modern English. No matter. Jennifer reached into the lad’s mind and pulled all the necessary knowledge from it, including the stuff he had yet to learn, and processed it all in an instant. 

"You shouldn't go around throwing spears at strangers like that,” she greeted him in his own tongue. “You might have hurt someone." Then she giggled playfully. "Not me though."

The youth stammered in response. He had already noticed Jennifer's incredible body, much taller and healthier than most people alive at this point in prehistory, and now her powerful pheromones were preying on his vulnerable teenage hormones. Flustered and blushing in front of this divine creature who smelled so wonderful, he got an immediate erection. Jennifer could hear his thoughts and urges clear as day, the instinctive need to mate fighting against his desire to act as an adult would, to take responsibility for this potential threat: she was a powerful stranger, possibly a spy trying to enter his people’s homeland, thus he had to bring her to his tribe so they could interrogate her. 

"What are you talking about, woman? What are you doing out here in the forest?!" In response, Jennifer twirled her fingers, pointing the spear upwards and lifting his entire body-weight with it, the terrified youth now hugging the shaft tight and clinging for his life. "A-Are you a monster?! No man is that strong, let alone a woman! Let me go, let me go or I'll tell my father!"

"But I want to meet your father, and the others too… you will help me right? You will take responsibility for attacking me and my newest daughter?"

“Yes! I’ll take responsibility, I’ll serve you, just please don’t hurt me!” 

“Done!” Jennifer’s eyes dug inside his mind, glowing bright as the sun. In a matter of seconds, the young man’s loyalty wasn't to his family, but to this stranger he had just met. This irrationally hot stranger whose eyes made him obey like a dog. 

"No… not like a dog, you’ll serve me as my fearless steed." Jennifer plucked a flower from the soil and transmuted it into a brush. Quickly she started painting the air around the dazzled boy, forming a new body for his entranced consciousness. Thousands of swift strokes later, she had completely transformed him into a unicorn, one that looked like it might have jumped straight out of a renaissance tapestry.

"There you go, now you’ve received the gifts of magic, speed, strength and longevity in return for your service. In a few years I’ll see if you want to go back to living as a human, or if you’d rather stay my bold charger and the first of the unicorns," said Jennifer as she mounted her new pet sidesaddle. The intelligent animal made a whinny of understanding, and without needing to be prompted set forth in a run to what had once been his home and village. His new home was under Jennifer's plentiful asscheeks.

Once they left, the grove fell silent. Then the newborn nymph slipped from her tree with a giggle, and began to happily dance around the other trunks, sharing her sapience with them, calling out her newborn sisters, continuing what Jennifer had set in motion - the normalization of magic in this world.

Jennifer and her new steed eventually reached a cute village of wood and straw houses. surrounded by a circular palisade, centered on a well and a crude forge. 

"So we’re definitely in the Bronze Age? Pretty enlightening." She floated down from the unicorn’s back and evaluated the guards at the door of the largest hut - likely the chieftain’s residence. Though their armor and spear were of crudely-worked metal, both seemed alert and disciplined and very muscular, albeit shorter than Jennifer herself. She let out a chuckle at this fluke of genetics and diet - she was of average height by the standards of the 22nd century, yet stood taller than even these fearsome warriors.

"You cannot pass, woman!" The two men pointed their weapons at her, instantly assuming a combat pose. Scanning their thoughts, Jennifer learned she was the tallest woman they had ever seen besides their chieftain Menulica. They were confused though, not just by her nudity, but her apparent softness, Jennifer’s pampered body being all baby fat in the right places. "What are you doing here, and what manner of creature is that you rode in upon? Explain yourself or die!"

“You are so cute!” Unable to resist, Jennifer set her hands on her hips, craned her upper body forward and adopted a deliciously smug grin. "Look at you, with your big muscles and your little spear!" She patted him on the head, a manner intended to be affectionate, but which came across as condescending, completely devastating the guard’s fragile ego, leaving him broiling in a mix of anger and horny arousal at being treated in such a way. 

"Damn you, woman! I'll finish you!" he spluttered. The other warrior kept his composure, but swallowed and blushed at the sight of Jennifer's massive, bubbly tits.

"Okaaaaaay, whatever. Who’s actually in charge around here" Then Jennifer noticed a well-built woman emerging from the hut behind the two guards, evidently angry at the guards for not doing their job. "Oh, is that your chieftain? She's very pretty! Although a bit of a tomboy." Jennifer bit her lips at the sight, because this woman was not at all bad for someone from the negative-18th century. Tall for her era, she was fit and athletic, dressed in tanned hides and bronze adornments, with two animal skulls worn as shoulder pauldrons. All this was crowned with a glorious mane of long red hair, and an exotic face that was more than a little hot. All-in-all, a prime specimen of bronze age pussy, and as expected, Jennifer felt the immediate need to fuck her.

"You idiots! I told you not to make loud noises while I’m sleeping!" Snapped the female chieftain. The villagers knelt before her as she passed, her motherly hips swaying beneath the leather of her skirt and jerkin. The two guards tried to block Jennifer’s own advance, but suddenly found themselves on their own knees, brought low by an aura of power that surrounded the nude trespasser. 

“Hi there!” Jennifer waved cheerily. “What’s your name?”

I am Menulica, chieftain of the Menullians, and one who doesn't take kindly to buck-naked foreigners walking around my village with a stupid smile on her faces on my watch!" Menulica smirked commandingly, the kids of the village gathered behind her, afeared of the intruder. "Who the fuck are you, slut? 

"Ouch! Rude. Well, my name is Jennifer Martinette and I am now the one and only god of this world.” Jennifer answered in deadpan. “My power knows no end, and I have chosen your tribe to carry my banner across the world. So I suggest you surrender your chieftaincy to me at once and become my lover and prophetess and the mother of my children." 

The chieftain roared in laughter. "Hah, that’s funny. A god you say? Well, you’re certainly pretty enough. Whatever, I'll humor you before I take you as my newest concubine." Menulica pointed to the forge, a spark of sadism in her emerald eyes. "Place your arm within the molten metal. If you survive I might recognize you as a goddess, your holiness." 

“Oh, this is fun!” Jennifer sauntered over to the forge, and its crucible of bubbling molten bronze. As she did, the perpetual gray clouds of southern England gathered together and began to weep rain. Those people closest to Jennifer were confused at how she remained dry despite the downpour but Menulica was too far away from her to appreciate this oddity. Her eyes were on the miracle now taking place.

Impossible!

The whole crowd gasped. The Super Goddess had just submerged her entire right arm into the molten bronze, smiling calmly all the while at the dumbfounded chieftain. She wasn't crying in pain, and her arm was definitely unharmed when she removed it from the crucible. Hot liquid bronze dripped from her fingertips, quickly cooling and solidifying in the cool air. Raindrops sputtered and burst into steam at contact with the superheated material.

"Is that enough to convince you?" 

"This is some kind of trick,” Menulica growled, having been made a fool of in front of her tribe.

"It is no trick. I am your god, and you shall worship me. As for the rest of you, watch how much good I can do to your lives.” Jennifer cocked her head skywards, and immediately the brewing storm dissipated, allowing sunlight to fall out of clear blue skies onto the scene. “I control the weather and your harvests.” She snapped her fingers and created a locomotive from nothing, a steel avatar of industrial power, breathing hot steam and vapor. “I can teach you all the science and technology you desire.” She motioned towards a tethered horse, which reared and then shifted into a demi-human centaur, who gaped at his new hands with all the awe of a newly-awaken sentience. “I create life from nothing, and transform nature to provide you with friends and allies.” Approaching the crowd, she tapped a random cowering woman on the head and infused her with divine power, uplifting her into a beautiful, powerful amazon whose back bore a broad pair of eagle’s wings. The woman flexed her new muscles in disbelief, then grinned and took off in euphoric flight, circling the village before landing back in a worshipful kneel at Jennifer’s feet. “I can make you superhuman, taller, stronger and faster. Behold, I offer you all this and more, if you but serve my vision for the world! 

It was a grandstanding performance. Jennifer was an artist after all, and performance was itself an art. She made sure to go as hammy and theatrical as possible, using the lessons she learned in her time as a Shakespearean actress. It was a pretty convincing and godly display, even if she was having to project a more forceful personality than her norm.

“It’s black magic!” Menulica snapped out of her stunned awe and rampaged towards Jennifer, with every intention of bear-hugging the blonde and crushing her bones to just. But she never reached her target, for the goddess once again proved her almighty status by exhaling a hurricane at the chieftain, knocking Menulica back towards the well. In a perfect pratfall she struck the low wall and tumbled ass-over-head down the shift, wailing all the way.

Jennifer waited for the splash, and then with a stage magician’s flourish teleported the soaked and shivering Menulica to her side.

“I…” the former chief lowered her eyes in shame. “I yield. Do what you wish with me, but please be kind to my people.” 

“I promise you I shall, and you shall have a place in swelling their numbers.” Jennifer touched Menulica’s belly with her hand, and instantly made her pregnant by many months, to the amazement of all. The new mother’s already-impressive tits began to seep rich milk, and the goddess eagerly partook, drinking directly from the nipple and causing a moaning Menulica to instantly cum in a shattering orgasm. “Good girl… I’m going to build you a lovely palace, and you’re going to live there like a queen as my beautiful baby-factory, the mother of nations.”

“Yes…” Utterly defeated, but brimming with sudden lust, Menulica touched her swollen tummy, feeling a new happiness she had never experienced before. She was going to be the mother of her divinity’s children; that was her new vocation, and she couldn't be more content with it. “My Goddess.”

The rest was easy. None of the villagers dared question such unopposable power, or deny Jennifer’s evident divinity. In the days that followed, she would become the Butterfly Queen, patron Goddess of the Jenniferian tribes of Southern Britannia. That title originated with an affectation that Jennifer had brought back from the future with her, her trademark butterfly earrings. A symbol of renewal and beauty, they adorned many of her new creations in this world, right down to serving as the pattern for the scales of her new armor, the first steel to be worked by human hands in this timeline. To dye and reinforce the virgin metal, she chose to physically pull a rainbow from the sky and alloy it into the plates, leaving them as light as a haze, and as strong as diamond. An aesthetic benefit was that the color of the metal now forever changed at random, adorning Jennifer in magical fairy-like patterns, much to the fascination of her subjects. This queenly new look was completed by an impressive scepter hewn from a single chunk of ruby.

Where did she get the ruby, you ask? Well, beyond merely instructing them in the working of steel, Jennifer introduced her new tribes to the entire periodic table, and a technological appreciation for the application of the elements that set them thousands of years into the future. She would personally instruct their children how to read, write and apply the scientific method, as well as to appreciate the arts and master the rudiments of sorcery. She had always loved working as a teacher, having delivered several college lectures in the future-past, and quickly the young minds in her care became knowledgeable and erudite. Many were her own offspring, sired from Menulica and other venerated mothers, children born with innate strength and power.

Adults, who had a harder time learning and who were hampered by the established cultural zeitgeist of their era, found it easier to learn through example, applying themselves to mastering the new machines and technologies Jennifer had produced with her infinite resources. She provided her farmers with perfect weather for their crops, dispelling the clouds with a jiggle of her breasts, or summoning rain with a singing call of her beautiful voice. 

She also found time to continue populating this world with supernatural beings, either cut from whole cloth or transformed from human volunteers. Her cavalry rode on unicorns and pegasi, dryads and nymphs nurtured bountiful orchards alongside their human neighbors, sprites played in the rivers and sieved potential pollutants from their waters, centaurs with the intelligence of man and the resilient strength of horses helped plow the fields and master the forges, and winged women traveled near and far as messengers, sentries and guardians, crossing great distances with the swiftsure speed of falcons and the endurance of albatrosses, reaching out to heretofore-unknown lands and peoples beyond the Great Western Ocean.

Many peoples, all united under her benevolent rule.

Time passed, and Jennifer’s domain grew. Now she could no longer teach all the children within the growing imperium, but her first pupils had come of age, and could instruct and educate younger generations, establishing a new culture where education was a right, as was freedom from slavery and serfdom.

All of these technological, magical and social advances helped the Jenniferians easily trump and absorb the other tribes of Britannia, before spreading onward into Continental Europe. Many tribes joined of their own accord, seeking to benefit from improved trade and technology, or even to catch a glimpse of the revered Goddess. Others were easily charmed by Jennifer’s golden tongue; her eloquent speechcraft and dashing looks working as surely as her agile mind to confound their arguments and convince them of the benefits of joining her ever-growing empire. Those that dared attack were made short work of by retaliating forces, soldiers armed with rifles and wands, skilled in warcraft and magecraft. Justice and mercy were dispensed in equal measure, such that defeated polities were quickly rebuilt and integrated into the whole.

In two very fast centuries Jennifer was the empress of the biggest confederation of nations in the history of the world, superior in technology, medicine and firepower to any other civilization, a polity that encompassed all Europe, a sizable chunk of Russia, along with the Canary Islands, Northern Africa and all the Americas north of the equator. The Jenniferian Empire eclipsed them all in size, population and cultural relevance… and she had done all this without even trying. 

And then came the time for Jennifer to accomplish what she had set out to achieve with this project. Her Empire was stable and peaceful, and now mostly ran itself. But now was the endgame she had been building towards, the production of a peerless work of art..

…and so she turned her eyes to Babylon.

The Jenniferian Empire now had cities that surpassed a twenty-second century perception of normal, with proper sewage and sanitation and healthcare, metal and brick buildings that towered into the skies, flying automobiles, and countless centers of culture and learning. Its populace were supported by miles and miles of hydroponic farms and greenhouses, who through a trick of scientific-sorcery occupied only a fraction of their true area, allowing vast areas of countryside to remain wild and untouched by human hands, where man and nature and magic alike could run free. Its citizens were educated, self-policing polyglots whose blood ran strong with magic, many being descendants from the same Goddess to whom they paid worship, thanking her for all the gifts she had bestowed upon them, and especially for the sacred teachings of justice and equality that made all their progress possible.

Against such progress, old Babylon the Great bridled in resentment and envy. Jennifer’s empire refused to trade with a slaveholding power, and not only welcomed runaway captives into their nation, but strictly controlled the distribution of their own advanced technology. Babylon’s rulers had failed time and again to steal or subvert the power of the Jenniferians, and so ultimately turned to forcibly taking it, in border raids and pirate attacks that intentionally targeted weaker communities.

The response was devastating, and required no input from Jennifer, merely her blessing, for she had seen the exact outcome in her mind long in advance. The nations of the Jenniferian Confederation gathered in their capital city of Menulicas and with the approval of their Goddess unanimously declared war, not against Babylon as a whole but against its leaders, resolving to invade and liberate that ancient empire and its peoples. Within weeks, they had stormed into the region, attacking from Egypt across the Red Sea, which parted before their mages in a touch that Jennifer found delightfully symbolic.

It took merely a day to reach the inner cities of the Empire. The Jenniferian forces were so superior that they could literally plow through armies much more numerous than their own without fear of harm, thanks to their technology, their magic, and their Enhanced physiology. It was a complete rout for the Babylonians, and soon all of Mesopotamia had been freed and uplifted…

…all except for Babylon itself.

And now, with her armies at Babylon’s walls and the ancient megalopolis besieged, Jennifer herself made her first move in the war, blinking out of reality to appear floating over the main gates of the ancient city, armored in her butterfly mail, ruby scepter in hand, a sight that had not been seen on this Earth in many years.

“King Hammurabi!” She proclaimed, with an arrogance and finality entirely out of her character. “The days of your dynasty are over. The only choice left to you is to decide the best fate for your people. Babylon now belongs to my invincible Jenniferians! If you wish to prevent further bloodshed you shall surrender to me all the land and subjects you claim to rule. I say ‘claim’ for your throne is but a vestment; I can see in my mind that many have already begun to worship me, including your own court Oh Majesty…" She added a mocking tone to that title. 

And she was right, for now she had grown to eclipse the Sun itself, hovering over the city with eyes of white fire, a true, undisputable Goddess. As a statement of her intent, she leveled her great scepter at a great statue of mighty Gilgamesh of old, and with one burst of magic reforged it in her likeness. Other statues and temples around the city transformed in the same instant, venerating Jennifering heroes and martyrs, such as the beloved Menulica, mother of nations.

In the face of such power, having taken counsel from his own advisors, Hammurabi stepped out of his palace surrounded by his entourage. Then, in front of the people he had ruled for decades, he knelt, effectively granting carte blanche for Jennifer to govern her new country.

And here was the moment of the masterpiece. Jennifer summoned a cruel smirk to her perfectly-featured face, and denied him forgiveness…

"Nah. You took too long. Kill them all, destroy this pathetic civilization my children." 

Once more she leveled her ruby scepter at Babylon, and with a single thought struck dead all within its walls. Then she stepped forth into the city to crush it beneath her heels, laughing maniacally, leaving not even dust to speak to Babylon’s existence, for she milked her titanic tits and called forth trillions of liters from her nipples, bursting the banks of the Tigris and Euphrates, scouring away all trace of the ancient polis.

Before the horrified eyes of her own troops, Jennifer conducted a clean and total genocide, without mercy or reserve…

…and in the face of such cruelty, such injustice, Jennifer’s own armies revolted. Caught between Their Goddess and Their Morality, the sacred teachings She herself had taught them, the Jenniferian Confederation chose their morals, and rebelled as one against its own creator…

…rebelled, and succeeded. Jennifer had raised her subjects well, nurtured their genius and power, awoken magic and introduced technology to this world beyond measure. And so when they came, they came in force, with numbers that dwarfed the previous invasion.

What fell upon Jennifer, found sprawling like some indolent beast upon the scourged plain that had been Babylon, was a force armed not only with tanks, planes, drones and assault rifles, but with magic and arcana and imagination beyond measure. At home, millions of citizens pooled their own magic and lifeforce into relays that carried that energy aboard, empowering battle-mages to cast a spell of such immense power as to achieve the impossible… to weaken a Super Goddess.

The battle was awful and terrible, for even when reduced in strength, Jennifer was still leagues and bounds beyond opposition, and the laws that governed nature made it impossible for her to die or be killed. But at the crux, when she seemed ready to overcome and slaughter her former children, those same laws itself intervened.

The spell flowed both ways, and with Jennifer made merely demi-potent, the Universe balanced the equation…

In the army and in the homelands, women who had volunteered to be the focuses of the spell-relay, at great risk to themselves, suddenly rose as newborn Goddesses. No longer was Jennifer the sole divinity in this realm; now she was outmatched and overwhelmed, and was ground down with as little mercy as she had showed Babylon, allowing a new generation of divinities to ascend to rule, ones forged in a test of character and faith, godheads of a superhuman nation that had refused to follow their Goddess on a Path of Evil…

Jennifer The Butterfly Queen no more. Jennifer The Accursed, Jennifer The Fallen, Jennifer The Genocide. Jennifer The Defeated.

Unable to die but too dangerous to be left free, Jennifer was denied the peace of oblivion, and instead was condemned and confined to a prison housed within a singularity, folded within her own power, left to scream in helpless fury for all eternity…

…she opened her eyes with a smile, and took a calming breath. She was floating still over the walls of Babylon, the genocide and subsequent war having taken place only in her mind. But that in itself was real enough, and she could feel the entire flow of that alternate history within her as if it had truly happened.

And with that, her work was done. Jennifer’s final act as the lone Goddess of this world was to accept the surrender of Babylon, and then she was gone, leaving no trace except for her armor and scepter, which became the ceremonial regalia of a people now responsible for their own destiny and good governance, in a world that no longer knew any gods, but which was rich in science, culture and magic.

The confederation she had raised would govern well. Jennifer knew so, just as surely as she knew they would have overthrown her in that other world.

Stepping back outside of time into that sepia-space between worlds, she opened her hand and held up a crystal, a shard of spacetime in which the entire memory of that reality was preserved, a symphony of beauty and the record of her newest masterpiece - the creation of a people powerful and wise and moral enough to overthrow a Super Goddess. It was a song and a poem and a movie that played out over two centuries, all building to a spectacular climax. And its power was so great that it reduced Jennifer to tears, here in a place where none could see her cry, brought low by her own Super-Empathy, and the horrors she had inflicted within her own imaginings.

The fact that she considered them horrors was proof enough of her own goodness, and of the nature of Super Goddesses to default towards easygoing kindness and empathy.

And when the tears were shed, it was time for her next endeavor. 

"Let's not torture myself any longer."

Storing the crystallized visions in the hammerspace of her immense cleavage, she chose her next destination and dove straight in. Onward into another timeframe…



June 1, 1875 AD - London, British Empire

Jennifer’s usual smile returned as she exploded into being in a light show of pretty colors, now attired as a genteel lady, in the frilliest and most beautiful dress her mind had ever conceived. It was a flurry of Victorian fashion cut and coloured to evoke the memory of her old high-school uniform, rounded out by a crinoline that made her already humongous ass and childbearing hips seem even more obvious, paired with a matching umbrella. "I'm in the mood for something romantic!" 

Not wanting to waste further time she once again branched reality and dropped out of the skies of the new timeline, using her umbrella to drift down towards the smokestacks and chimneys of 19th Century London, a whimsical arrive that evoked a certain magical nanny, one that shall not be further detailed for fear of the soulless megacorporation that holds the copyright on that Practically Perfect individual.

The largest city in Europe and history’s first-ever megalopolis revealed itself below her. Jennifer caught more than a little attention as she descended into Westminster. Sadly, the art of photography was then sufficiently in its infancy that no visual record remained of her arrival, but written accounts and word-of-mouth more than did justice to her flight past Parliament and over Buckingham Palace, all the way to her landing at the border of Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park, much to the amazement of everyone present. Men instantly felt ungentlemanly arousal, while jealous women immediately sought to correct their husbands’ inappropriate drooling, or blushed at the shamefully sapphic attraction they themselves felt to the stranger. 

In short words, Jennifer was the most wonderful and beautiful woman they had ever seen, with proportions out of a wet dream and a charisma that could melt the hearts of even this buttoned-up time of self-repression.

While the bystanders admired her otherworldliness, Jennifer stared at the artificial lake known as the Serpentine. It was a beautiful sight, much more than in her native time. The sight of the golden evening sky reflected in the tranquil waters kicked her artistic inspiration into overdrive, and she knew she had found her next canvas. Not caring at all about revealing her powers in public she began to twirl her gloved hands, issuing directions that the water obeyed without question. 

At first she just had fun, entertaining herself casting waves in different directions, or forming small whirlpools and waterspouts for the ducks and geese to frolic among, small marvels that won her much applause from the gathered crowd. As her confidence grew, so did her conjurations, until with dancing fingers Jennifer created liquid ballet performers, detailed figures that performed a routine of her own improvised composition, yet one that would have stood proudly along the technical and artistic achievements of the great masters, all while joyfully humming along to the soaring music that played inside her head. The environment leant instruments to her composition, and soon the wind in the trees, chirping of birds, neighs of horses and the rattle of carriages became the voice of her imagination, even the steps of the people amaasing in Hyde Park and the whistles and cries of distant locomotives joining in her new masterpiece, perfectly emulating the sequenced notes streaming from her mighty mind. The entire city of London was an orchestra, and she was the conductor of the whole, all working together to create music to which her water puppets might dance.

As word of mouth spread, so did the crowds swell, all classes of society gathering to attend this spectacle, the most beautiful performance of their lives. Musicians among them wept at the artistry and emotion on display, and instead of despairing at never being able to attain such heights, felt all the more motivated to aspire to the peak of their own talents. Children and laborers who had never held a musical instrument in their lives felt ennobled by the sights and sounds on display, and wondered what they too might accomplish with the right drive. No matter their social or economic class, everyone present was moved by this life-changing experience.

When the smiling Super Goddess decided that the perfect moment had arrived, she threw up her hands, and abruptly the magic stopped. London ceased to sing her tune and the ballet dancers froze, instantly petrified and preserved in glittering ice, along with the echoing reverie of her song. That perfect moment was forever encapsulated, so that everyone in the city might continue to enjoy a record of her performance for generations to come. 

‘Dancing on the Serpentine’. That, Jennifer decided, was the perfect name for this little improvised exercise. It would become a wonder of this world, and its recreation would also become a hit back in her reality-of-birth.

Sighing in satisfaction, the omnipotent conductor rested herself on a bench, now free to pay attention to her many hundreds of new aficionados, all asking who she was, and how she had been able to perform such miracles. All this did however draw the attention of the authorities, and soon Jennifer found herself attended upon by a group of policemen who left little doubt that they wished to escort her to Scotland Yard for questioning.

"Constables,” Jennifer smiled winsomely. “You all just need to relax. You are so uptight, London is a city of culture and pleasure for everyone to enjoy. Why don’t I conjure a little entertainment just for you?" The Super Goddess snapped her fingers, summoning a pack of beautiful mermaids out of the lake. They easily charmed the young police officers, even drawing a few back to the shore of the Serpentine for some wet and fishy sex, while Jennifer continued to attend to the queries of her public.

After a while the repetitive stream of questions got a bit tiring however, especially when many of the crowds’ affections became more physical than intellectual, courtiers seeking to kiss her hands and feet. Once again the natural charisma and all-powerful pheromones of a Super Goddess was work, transforming hapless bystanders into devoted supplicants and worshippers.

Seeking to avoid this, Jennifer chose to warp reality such that everyone on Earth inherently acknowledged and recognised her as a famous musician, one who possessed immense magical powers for no reason other than she wanted it to be so. 

In an instant, all of mankind accepted her status and power without renouncing their own religions. It seemed so right and natural that this one woman possessed such gargantuan power that not even the best scientists at the Royal Society felt it worth investigating the matter of Lady Jennifer and her impossible omnipotence. 

This presented a welcome respite to Jennifer herself - despite her phenomenal looks and charm she had never been an attention-seeker, and so it was refreshing indeed to be regarded as merely a celebrity and not an object of divine worship. 

Thus, with that change made, all it took was a feigned yawn and the suggestion that she was going to retire to her home to break up the gathered crowd of polite fans. Feigned, because as a Super Goddess she had no need to sleep, and only did so if she wanted to. The home itself was a newly-manifested stately mansion that she had retroactively inserted into the park with a quick application of her will; so far as everyone in London was concerned, the structure was a natural and permanent fixture of the area.

Today had been fun, she reflected, but she had come not just to create a sculpture, but to write a story - her perfect Victorian romance, lived out in person. And if her instincts were correct, the deuteragonist of that tale would make himself known in three, two, one-

"Excuse me, but might I pardon a moment of your time?”

“Certainly,” Jennifer turned, smiling gently, one hand resting on her waist, her marvelous brunette mane glistening like hammered bronze in the sunset. “Is there something I can do for you, handsome stranger?” Although dressed for the setting, she made no attempt to mask her native accent. Combined with her post-Victorian tastes and fabulous beauty, it leant her what Victorian England would describe as a ‘refreshingly rustic’ charm - the mysterious, talented and vivacious beauty visiting from Canada or the United States. 

And there he was, her new lover, smiling in surprise at her forthrightness. Jennifer could feel her eyes all but glow at the sight of him. Tall, dark and handsome, with all the manners and taste of a proper young gentleman, but the boyish charm and intelligent, thoughtful eyes of a dreamer and thinker. In short, a heartthrob straight out of something by the Bronte sisters.

“Handsome you say?” He responded with aplomb, an arched eyebrow and a small smile the signs that he intended to play her at this game of words. Good, Jennifer had hoped for a man with brains as much as beauty. “I must say you have me at a disadvantage, for your virtues are far in advance of what looks might lie in the favor of this handsome stranger.”

“Well shucks, aren’t you sweet?” If she had a fan, Jennifer might have swooningly fluttered it and remarked that he was giving her the vapors… though that was more Antebellum South than Victorian bodice-ripper. “Might I enquire about your name, young flatterer, and what brings you to my humble home at this late hour?” She knew his name and intent already of course, given she could read his entire mind like a biography.

“Roger Cavendish, esquire.” He bowed in introduction, one hand behind his back. “Gentleman of leisure…”

‘...and son of the Royal Physician.’ Jennifer noted, pleased that he had not tried to use his connections to win points with her.

"...I was watching your previous spectacle, and consider it like nothing I have ever seen before, a unique expression of art and beauty. I had hoped to learn something of the mind that shaped it, but did not wish to impose myself over the rest of the crowd…"

"So you maintained your distance and merely observed?" Jennifer correctly ascertained.

“Well, yes.” Roger blushed. From what Jennifer could see, he was somewhat embarrassed at being so transparent to her eyes, but was also finding her perception to be as equally alluring as her beauty. "And now that the hour is late and the crowds have dispersed…"

"You wish to know me better?"

"Exactly! But I understand that, as you say, the hour is late, and no doubt you have your own plans in mind for the evening."

"Hmm, not really…” Jennifer answered, and pointed a short distance away into the park. “But if you want to get to know me, I’d rather we make a full evening of it. If tomorrow is agreeable, then I shall be waiting for you over there at the chess tables at six.”

She blew him a magical kiss, a collection of golden sparks that dissolved into a small cloud of butterflies. Then with a parting wink, she entered the mansion and closed its doors behind her.

That was the moment when Roger Cavendish felt romantic love for the first time in his life. It was not Lady Jennifer’s exotic and voluptuous beauty that had won his eyes, but her abilities as a maker of art, which when combined with her charming confidence and obvious intelligence set her apart from any other woman the young Cavendish had ever known.

As was expected of a proper gentleman of his era, Roger was most punctilious about being on time the coming day. He had prepared himself with equal care, washed thoroughly, pomaded his hair and donned his best suit of clothes. But for all this preparation, and for all the energy he had devoted in practicing small talk and preparing answers to any questions that might be asked of him, Roger was nervous to the point of voiding his bowels when he arrived at Hyde Park.

That arrival presented him with a curious sight, that of Lady Jennifer sat playing chess with a middle-aged gentleman, who was evidently deeply engrossed in the game. Roger approached slowly, and glancing at the board immediately noticed something curious, beyond that Jennifer was moving her pieces around with telekinesis; the board formed a rectangle rather than a square, and there were pieces in play that he did not recognise.

Something about the setup seemed curiously familiar, and it was only when Roger took a proper look at Jennifer’s opponent that he recognised him: Henry Bird, a highly-regarded chess player, and the author of this variant of the game, which he had outlined only last year in a prominent magazine. ‘Bird’s Chess’ was played on a larger board, with extra pawns and two new pieces - the guard and the equerry, designed to make the game more complex and involved.

And, from the look of things, Bird was being schooled thoroughly in his own game - his pieces were surrounded by Jennifer’s own, and he was having to constantly dance his king about to keep it out of check. And yet the balding, unassuming gentleman was beaming with delight, even as Jennifer boxed him into a corner.

At last, with a sigh, Bird toppled his king, yielding the game. The sigh he gave sounded less like one of disappointment at having lost the match, and more frustration that such a satisfying game had come to an end.

“Delightful, quite delightful…” he rose and shook Jennifer’s hand. “A true pleasure to have played such a masterful opponent.” Then he glanced towards Roger, and began packing up the pieces, with a knowing smile on his face. “And now, if I am not mistaken, your companion has arrived, and so I will take my leave, and allow you youngsters to enjoy your revels in peace.”

“You are a true gentleman Mr Bird,” Jennifer beamed, returning his praises in kind. “And thank you for introducing me to your version of the game. It has much to recommend it.” 

Then, as Bird excused himself and left, she turned her attention to Roger.

“Master Cavendish! You accepted my invitation!”

“Indeed,” Roger doffed his hat and bowed, a gesture that seemed to delight her. “Though I fear I could not offer so rousing a game as the good Mr Bird.”

“Oh, you never know…” Jennifer’s golden eyes sparkled with a million shimmering facets. “I’m sure you could offer a most arousing performance of another kind.” She slipped him a wink, and giggled at his blushing reaction. In truth, she was really enjoying this era, especially in toying and teasing with its hidebound rules of etiquette and decorum.

“You are a forward Lady indeed…” Roger tried to shake off the rosy glow on his cheeks and responded with equal vigor. “Then I shall be bold myself, and presume you would rather I call you Jennifer, rather than ‘My Lady’.”

She applauded in delight. “Good show, and well-deduced. But only if I can show an equal liberality in calling you Roger.”

“Then I believe we have a compact…” He extended his hand to help her rise from her seat. “May I, Jennifer?”

She took the offered hand, and all but squealed in glee when Roger mustered the courage to dip his head and cheekily skim his lips over the back of her glove, a deliciously scandalous display of public affection. For Jennifer it was like well-written fanfiction, an indulgent synergy between Victorian elegance and modern tastes, and she was loving it.

Arm-in-arm they strolled through the park, discussing anything and everything that caught their fancy. Roger was outright fascinated with Jennifer, and not just because of her obvious physical assets, such as a pair of tits that might have served for dumbells. Rather he seemed most charmed by her wit and mind. Jennifer found his attentions and intellectual curiosity equally attractive, and quite liberally shared her plans with him.

“I would love to drop in on the Royal Society at some point. They’re working wonders and pushing the envelope of human knowledge, but do tend to get mired in a morass of pseudo-scientific nonsense. I have a few demonstrative experiments in mind that should set a few misconceptions straight, to the benefit of future generations.”

Roger pressed for more details, and so Jennifer expounded on evolutionary biology, and how certain conceptions of the ever-popular genus dinosauria were wildly far from the mark.

“DInosaurs are misinterpreted as slow, brutish reptiles, but the very evidence is in the bones to disprove this,” she made clear. “Look at the birdlike structure of their limbs, the physical adaptations that speak to swift, warm-blooded creatures. They were not an evolutionary dead-end, but a mighty dynasty that ruled the earth for millions of years - their descendants still live to prove it!” And she pointed at a flock of pigeons.

From there the topic extended into geography and geology, and it was made clear to Roger that the Earth’s surface was in constant movement, and the concept of sunken land-bridges that once connected the continents, such as Phillip Sclater’s proposed ‘Lemuria’, a mere fantasy. It was an enlightening discourse.

Jennifer was finding this equally rewarding. Back ‘home’, her status as a Super Goddess meant that her word would be accepted as true at face value, and if doubted, she could have simply summoned a dinosaur or cracked a tectonic plate to make her point clear. But here, as a comparative nobody, she had to explain what she knew to be fact with reason and logic. It was liberating to not have to wear her divine celebrity on her sleeve.

“This new learning amazes me, Jennifer.” Roger enthused at length. “I would not be surprised if you found yourself made the first female fellow of the Royal Society.”

“That would be nice, and would set a precedent to save so many deserving ladies from having to fight for that honor…” Jennifer answered, expression turning slightly dreamy. “But I would regard it as a mere fillip to my other accomplishments. At heart, I’m an artist, not a scientist.”

“Ah, but is science not itself an art?” Roger countered with spirit. “Both are a means by which we can know the truth of God’s creation, and expand the human mind.”

She chuckled at that. If only he knew… 

They walked together a short distance further in comfortable silence, and then Roger posed a question that had weighed upon him since yesterday.

“Jennifer… what are you? I accept that a woman is just as capable as a man, if not more so depending on the individual - I am familiar with Her Majesty, and both she and her eldest daughter are immensely sharp-minded. But your knowledge transcends all expectations, and although your powers seem natural, a part of me insists that the Age of Miracles passed with the resurrection of Christ. Therefore, it seems to me that someone of your abilities must be somewhat divine herself.”

…well look at that. Flawlessly reasoned, and delivered as a compliment that outright left Jennifer feeling all melty down below.

“My dear Roger, are you calling me a Goddess?”

“Well, I do not wish to blaspheme. But perhaps a Holy Angel, sent down on some mission of mercy from the court of the Creator.”

Oh yeah, that melty feeling was turning hot and happy right about now. It took a lot of restraint for Jennifer to not make sweet love to Roger there and then. But this was her Victorian romantic fantasy, and so when they paused on the Serpentine Bridge she decided to break the truth in an appropriate coy manner.

“Can I share a secret?” she rested her head on his shoulder, the two of them gazing out towards her frozen dancers. 

“If you consider me worthy of hearing it.”

Oh yeah, this crush of hers was a real catch. Mr Darcy could go hang in the face of Mr Cavendish’s gentlemanly charms. And yet Jennifer felt almost disappointed, not only to break his perception of things, but to end her happy charade of playing the 19th-century lady.

“I am divine.” As she said that, she touched Roger’s head with the tip of one gloved finger, allowing him to for an instant glimpse some of the scope of her being. He tensed, made a gasping sound, and then turned to look at her. 

‘Here it comes,’ Jennifer thought, expecting to see fawning adoration in his eyes. Now he would fall on his knees and become just another supplicant.

But instead saw new intellectual fire writ large across Roger’s face.

“You’re a Goddess?” he repeated, and smiled eagerly at her nod of confirmation. “But not THE creator.”

Jennifer considered that, and then shrugged. “I am a Super-Goddess, the closest to a physical divinity that exists in our world. I can create universes from scratch, but neither I nor my kind are the originators of creation as a whole. We can extend our perception from the beginning of time to the end of all things, but even we cannot see what came before or what lies hence.”

“So there is still a higher truth that even you can but dimly perceive?” Roger queried again, clutching her hands in excitement. “This is magnificent, splendid! You’ve revealed such wonders to me, yet there is still more to discover.”

He was taking this surprisingly well, and Jennifer reached out to scan his mind and understand. What she saw stunned her: Roger accepted her divinity, but felt not the slightest inclination to worship her - indeed, he saw them as equals in that both were born of the world, and thus equally in search of the truth of the higher mysteries. He accepted her as timeless, immortal and nigh-omnipotent, but he still believed with a deep and touching faith that there was something even greater still beyond her and her sisters.

It was a beautiful vision, one that challenged even Jennifer’s own imagination. But it was true - Omnipotent as Super Goddesses were, they still aimed for something beyond their own infinite experience: Irina’s scientific marvels, Elza’s quest for a normal teenage life, Paige’s yearning for a love that might define her, Zheng Mei and Zheng Lei’s sibling rivalries, Hilde’s quest for new and exciting experiences, her own artist explorations. All were in a sense transformative, the actions of beings that grew and changed, rather than eking out tedious days as fixed, unchanging points in time, like flies trapped in amber. That spoke to something fundamentally human, the search for something BEYOND their current state of being. 

Eagerly, she repeated these thoughts back to Roger, and he all but danced for joy. She should have expected that the son of a physician in this time of scientific discovery might have been intrigued with natural philosophy, but he was taking to the truths of the Super Goddesses like a savant.

“Divinity without limits, yet still with questions, still in search of understanding beyond the Omniscient! It is sublimely poetic. And you have crossed time and hopped realities in pursuit of your artistic truths…” He crowed with delight, heedless of the disapproval shown by passing dams and patricians. “I might have thought it all a trick, and myself an easily-deceived fool, but what you have opened my eyes to blast my fears asunder!”

Seeing his euphoria, not at her divinity but her underlying humanity, Jennifer could not help but see in Roger the very words that Dickens put in the mouth of a newly-transformed Scrooge:  “I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to everybody! Happy New Year to all the world.

“Hallo here! Whoop! Hallo!” Roger waved back at the sour-faced bystanders. “Smile, why don’t you, good sirs and ladies, for we live in a world of boundless possibilities. Our very lives are staves in a great science-romance!”

Jennifer knew in that instant that she loved him, and heedless of the social norms she was breaking pulled Roger to her and kissed him deeply.

“Romance was what I sought when I arrived in London,” she said when they came up for air some time later. “A whirlwind romance with a young gentleman… and I found it.” Then Roger took the lead, drawing her in for a second round of tongue-to-tounge warfare, and everything else melted away…

When Jennifer next opened her eyes, she found that she had returned to the place outside of time, all of history surrounding them in flickering sepia. Roger was here with her too, having apparently not let go when Jennifer had vacated reality, and it was only her own power that allowed him to live in this void beyond space and time. They still held one another, hands cupped over each other’s cheeks.

“Good Lord…” Roger exhaled in wonderment, and Jennifer could not resist a little mischief at his expense.

“Sweetie, try and move your hands…” 

Roger obliged, and found that Jennifer’s own slender palms kept his own locked on her smiling cheeks, no matter how much he strained.

“Good Lord indeed,” he repeated, with a grin of his own. “You’re certainly strong enough to be a goddess.”

Jennifer relented, and releasing her hold she allowed Roger to lower his hands. He gazed around in almost childlike awe, all fear driven back by the sheer trust and confidence he had in her.

“Does it really not bother you?” She enquired. “That I am not the Lord God you have worshiped all your life.”

“Not at all!” Roger beamed with an ease that shattered Jennifer’s own defenses. “There are those in London who see science’s discoveries as an affront to God’s majesty, but others who see them as serving to further illuminate His glory. Why should I see you as anything less?”

This intrigued her, and she pushed a little further. “And what if I turn out to be a false god, some tyrannical Moloch that demands offerings of blood and sacrifice to appease me.”

She expected a complex argument about how such a god was not deserving of worship, but instead Roger just shrugged and smiled. “Because you are not. You showed me as much of yourself as I could safely bare, and I have faith in the truth I saw within you. Kindness, compassion, generosity of spirit. These are as fundamentally a part of you as your name.”

Faith. That was what defined him, Jennifer realized. Not the faith of a zealot or a fundamentalist, a flickering light that disguised its fragility with fury, but the steady and constant faith of someone whose belief was strong enough to bend with grace. He saw her divinity and accepted it without sacrificing his belief in something even higher, just as he needed no arguments or reasons to doubt her goodness.

He was so pure… and she wanted to share in his curiosity, his wholesomeness of spirit, his unshakable trust in anything that proved itself as holy and wholly good. Share, and share with him, and allow his hopes and dreams and love to inspire and guide her hands forever and a day. Because he saw her as a person first - a person of great power most certainly, but a person nonetheless, not some cosmic monarch to which he wished to offer up his body and soul.

“Roger…” she spoke, and this time sounded so cautious as to seem alien in her own mind. “I came to London seeking a romance, but only as inspiration for my next masterpiece back home. In you, I’ve found all the inspiration I sought…”

“Then, does that mean that our time together is at an end?” Roger might have been resigned to such a parting, for what hope could he have to stop such a powerful being from taking her leave, beautiful as their brief time together had been? But the greater part of him did not believe that the Goddess before him would be so cruel as to toy with a person’s heart.

“No, you silly-billy!” Jennifer peevishly flicked a finger against his forehead. “It means you’re my muse! I want you to stay with me - travel together, adventure together - marry me and be a part of my harem!”

“A harem?” That was not what Roger had expected. “So I would be sharing you with others, but still bound by an oath of marriage?” Well, at least he did not sound immediately hostile to the idea.

“Marriage is a promise, and I consider myself wed to all my lovers, even if we don’t have a formal wedding ceremony. A promise to love and care for one another, to share the whole of our lives with one another." She guided his hand onto her soft tummy. "And to create new lives together, if you so wish.” Then she smirked a little, to spice this tenderness with a little risque seasoning. “Besides, you’re a forward-thinking man, and I’m sure you’d be interested in meeting those other men and women who meet my standards as lover-companions.”

“Men and women?” One of Roger’s eyebrows raised, and his lips curled into another curious grin. “You are a woman of infinite surprises, Jennifer… and I would undertake any challenge to spend more time with you…” He paused, and then frowned. “But while I would gladly give up my position and career and prospects, I would not wish to bring hurt upon my family by abandoning them. Would it not be as if I abruptly vanished from London.”

“That’s the fun part of courting a Goddess.” Jennifer winked. “You won’t need to.” She motioned back to the timeline they had vacated, and through the flickering haze of film showed Roger a frozen still of Hyde Park, where the  two of them were still kissing. Then she cupped her hand and beckoned, pulling that entire reel of film out of the void and into her hand as a second crystal of condensed reality. “Time is now paused in that world, ready for us to jump back in where we left off, but we could live a thousand lifetimes between now and then, before returning with all the experience we’ve gained together, ready to change that world for the better.”

More games of chess, the chance to present radical new ideas to the Royal Society, and countless years together. It was a wonderful prospect, and Roger accepted.

“Then please lead on, my beloved goddess!”



August 18, 1969 AD - Bethel, New York, United States of America

The two of them crashed back into Jennifer’s native timeline in a dazzling show of energy, albeit in what was for her ‘the past’.

“Okay, Roger, a bit of a confession…” She cracked her knuckles. “My London escapade wasn’t just to create a masterpiece of romance, or even Dancing on the Serpentine, but as practice for what I really have in mind.”

“Please explain,” Roger was amazed at how casual Jennifer made travel through time and space seem. The transition had been as quick as a blink and from his perspective, entirely without pain or disorientation. He looked around. “Though I am curious as to why we are in the middle of a wheatfield.”

“Before visiting London I’d already created another timeline, where I rose an empire against Babylon. Those trips were experiments in manipulating the flow of events. We’re now in my native reality, but decades before my birth, and I’m about to put that practice to good use.”

She gave him a few moments to process this, and so Roger cupped a hand to his chin and thought. After just a few moments, the light of comprehension dawned in his eyes.

“You wish to change history, but in such a way so that those changes ripple forward to your time of origin.”

“Smart boy!” she gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek. “Usually, changing the course of history simply causes time to branch, but with all this new experience, I reckon I can hold the walls together, forcing a new timeline to fuse with the original.”

The idea thrilled Jennifer beyond words. She would be painting a new history onto an already existing timeline, with the established flow of events as her canvas. “Come on, I can’t wait to get started.”

Eagerly she led him through the rustling crops and out onto a country road. 

“I am guessing then that even if not in your native time, we are far in the future?” Roger asked, marveling at the passing cars.

“The United States, 1969,” she clarified, absent-mindedly humming the melody she had composed on the Serpentine. Roger committed the year and location to memory, and found it interesting that almost a century after his own time, this rural landscape seemed little-changed from what he might expect. All the differences were in the details.

The better part of his attention however remained focused on Jennifer, and the visible excitement thrumming within her. “I am guessing then that you seek to set wrong some mistake, to avenge some victim of history?” He asked, with a smile. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

She tipped a hand in a ‘so-so’ gesture. “Kinda-sorta, but the victim was the world as a whole. I’ve not chosen this date to correct a specific wrong, but because the events of these next few days catalyzed a movement that I want to empower.” She waved a hand towards a hand-painted sign just up the road: ‘Three Days of Peace and Music’

“Roger Cavendish, welcome to Woodstock.”

A snap of her fingers later, and Jennifer’s Victorian garb was replaced with attire appropriate for the Age of Aquarius. A dark turtleneck sweater was stretched over her perky supertits, complimented by a long tribal-patterned skirt and a pair of thick sunglasses. To complete the look, a flock of butterflies arose from the fields and swirled around her, several choosing to perch in her hair. “How do I look?”

Like nothing he had ever seen, but stunning none-the-less, and Roger enquired if his own attire needed alteration.

“Hmm…” Using her hands instead of her magic, Jennifer removed his jacket and cravat, undid several of his shirt buttons, and gave his hair a quick tousle. Roger’s pressed trousers and ornate waistcoat remained unchanged, such that the overall effect was no longer buttoned-up respectability, but positively Bohemian. “There we are, Perfect!”

“If you say so, dear.” Roger could only go along with the flow. He now felt somewhat under-dressed, but the feeling was overall most liberating, and his own excitement began to rise. “Do you have any advice on correct conduct?”

Jennifer snorted at the question. “Roger, conduct is about to go out the window. Just be open-minded and have fun.”

That sentiment was confirmed when they arrived in the Woodstock estate, which was packed with young people, all acolytes of love and the arts. For Roger it was like being an explorer delving into some strange jungle. So many bodies pressed cheek-by-jowl, in a heady miasma of song and feeling that put him in mind of an opium den. As the son of a doctor, he was familiar enough with such mind-altering compounds to recognise that many of these young people were partaking of similar substances, and in mass quantities. The smell was indescribable, reeking of human sweat and filth and herbal aromas. It was fetid, primal, powerful, an impression only made more vivid by the thrum of the music and the energy of the crowd. Some artist named ‘Hendrix’ was on stage, and the snarl of his music was as electric as the instrument in his hands.

‘Degenerate’ was the word Roger might have used to describe the scene, for the sight evoked in him a sense of a society regressing towards the barbaric. But there was also an indescribable sense of freedom and optimism in the air, and he decided that moments such as this were perhaps healthy, necessary even, to revitalize a society potentially even more stilted and ossified than the one he knew.

“You’ve got it!” Jennifer agreed when he postulated his theory. “This movement is the expression of a changing America. Part of the country is right now fighting a pointless war in Asia, while another part is fighting for their civil rights. The whole nation lives in terrified anticipation of Armageddon, while following along in awe as the very same technology is harnessed to send men to the moon! And in the middle of all this headlong transformation arises a new generation of young people who want to ride the wave and shape a different world from that of their parents.” She was positively rejoicing in the atmosphere, soaking it up like paper absorbing paint. “This is one of my favorite historical eras, alongside Renaissance Italy and early twentieth century Paris.” 

“Please promise me you’ll share those eras with me someday.” he asked, head-over-heels in love, and then yelped as several hands took hold of him. Three girls in the crowd had suddenly grabbed hold of the Victorian beefcake, and were now pleading him to come dance with them.

“Go on!” Jennifer gave him an encouraging shove. “Have fun, run wild, be free! I’ll be sure to find you later.”

With that endorsement, Roger allowed himself to be led away into the crowd. Watching, Jennifer saw one of the girls ram her lips against his in a spontaneous kiss, and laughed. An exultant wave of energy rising within her, she spread her arms wide and shaped the pall of smoke over the audience into thousands of peace symbols. It was a sublime bit of magic, and most of the crowd were so baked that they simply accepted it with a cheer. But that was just a preview of what she had in mind.

Hendrix ended his set with the force of a nuke, leaving the crowd screaming in applause. Whoever played next would have to be something special indeed to compare with the legendary Jimi.

Oh boy, they were in for a surprise.

And next up on the schedule, we have indie soloist ‘Jenny Time’. Give her a cheer, my dudes.

The introduction was hardly necessary, because when Jenny stepped on stage her phenomenal beauty (and enormous tits) were enough to win her an ovation before she’d even played a single chord. ‘Jenny Time’ was an artist none of them had ever heard of before, but the cute guitarist with the righteous rack quickly won their attention.

‘Alright’, Jenny thought, framed in the stage lights, looking out over the gathered youth. It wasn’t stage fright she felt, because she overcame that during her short-lived idol career in the 2040s. No, she was just simply very conscious of the scope of what she was about to attempt. ‘Showtime.’

She had to be careful though, so as not to leave a trace of Super Goddess magic at work in this era, a time that long predated the birth of M’Wela, first among them. Hence why she was taking a page from Brunhilde’s book and playing a trick, masking the change she sought to accomplish within the hippie movement.

‘I’ve raised an empire, found a new love, and created more than a few masterpieces along the way. Now it's time for the magnum-opus of this trip, a performance that will transform the world… let’s rock!’

She played, and the world changed. She sang without words, but poured her heart into a melody born of her soul. It was one of hope, joy, and peace. Of love for others, and love for oneself, love for nature, and love for the beauty of the world. The wonders of science, and the mysteries of the heart, the power of individuals, and the strength of movements. 

And of change, and of resilience.

"This is for peace and love, let's build a better world together!"

It was a transcendent song, one without words, so sublime that afterwards no-one could remember more than the most basic notes of the melody. What everyone would agree on though, was that ‘Jenny Time’ made Hendrix look like a supporting act. But there was more than just sound in that music, there was magic, some of the most powerful magic Jennifer had ever worked. Weaving in and out and within the notes and scales was a spell, one that resonated in the hearts of everyone who heard it. Regardless of their individual views, in that moment anyone could find something within that song to inspire them.

Cynics found themselves believing, dreamers found structure for their thoughts. Those on leave from police and the military suddenly aspired to transform those services to truly serve and protect, while people with positions in the sciences and arts found themselves determined to rise to the top and direct their talents to a greater purpose.

Jenny was getting into the flow now, layering melodies and countermelodies together in a fusion so profound that golden butterflies exploded like pyrotechnics from where her fingers made contact with the strings. She teased the hope to come, giving the crowd a fleeting glimpse in her song of the future coming of the Super Goddesses, and how they would change the world for the better.

But she also spoke to each person within the crowd, inspiring them to be the change they wanted to see. She walked up and down the stage as she played, making eye-contact with the crowd, not teasing or taunting like some kind of idol but making a direct heart-to-heart connection with each attendee.

It was a transformative moment, and already Jenny’s omniscience could feel reality straining to accommodate the change. History was threatening to go off the rails, but now an even deeper current of magic in her music went to work, and grabbed hold of the walls of time itself, refusing to allow reality to split. Instead of casting off this change as a new timeline, the original course of events was forced to incorporate them, the vines and creepers of the song and the change it would bring entwining around the future and welding two timelines together, forcing them to remain integrated.

Jennifer was actually having to exert herself, fighting against causality with her music. As the battle intensified, her music shifted, becoming stronger and harder and faster, advancing into genres that had yet to be invented. Punk, acid rock, hair metal, all were layered together as she convinced reality to allow her this one indulgence. 

And that argument became a part of the song’s message, one that was both rebellious and harmonious. It was a song of a challenger, a fighting upstart, but not one who was unyielding. There was a harmony in the music, an open-mindedness, a give-and-take. It was all about reshaping the world, but just as Jenny was now reshaping time, was not a brute-force fight but about reasoning and compromising where necessary, driven by conviction, but never resorting to brutality to accomplish her goal.

At last the pressure of causality relaxed, and feeling history accept her changes Jennifer leapt in the air, swinging into a triumphant movement as her mind reached forward to see the results of what she had done.

Omniscience, her consciousness reached the forward internet, scanned history records and accounts yet to be published, and saw her works. And it was good.

‘Jenny Time’ went down in history as a legend among musicians, a gorgeous nobody who had played a single set at Woodstock and then was never heard from again. Jimi Hendrix credited her with reinventing rock, and whole careers had been built in speculating on her fate and identity. If only they knew…

…but Jenny had not come to Woodstock to build her own image. What mattered to her was the effect this moment had on the people present, and their own impact on the world. And that change was written across the whole of future history. The Woodstock Generation who heard her song would not burn out, or fade away with a whimper, but go on to produce a new breed of scientists, scholars, statesmen and soldiers, people who fought and argued and worked with all their hearts to produce a world built on peace and love.

Through them, Jennifer had mainstreamed Hippie culture, and woven its creed into the American Dream. There would still be wars, and mistakes, and tragedies, but their scope was vastly reduced. And the environment would not be so thoroughly ravaged as it had been by the close of the 21st century. Instead a culture of stewardship evolved, preserving vital ecosystems and habitats, while driving scientific development towards more conscious and benevolent means of feeding and powering a growing world, instead of short-term gains that had resulted in long-term pollution and deforestation.

The net result was that when the Super Goddesses did arise, it would be into a kinder, greener, saner world, one that was even-better-prepared to flourish and grow under their guidance. The future was one of endless potential, and in her imagination Jennifer could see only good as humanity left the Earth and rode at superluminal speeds out into the greater cosmos.

To the Stars everybody! We’re going to the Stars!” She cried out in victorious euphoria, stretching the climax of the song into a crescendo that made everyone present jump up and down and cheer with hope for the future, promising them an endless triumph over all the evils of the world, and a rebirth of the human spirit..

The final chord played, sang, echoed and died out into a hushed silence…

…then the crowd filled the hush with shouts and screams and weeps of joy, smiles on their faces.

Peace and Love!” Jennifer cried out, throwing her fingers up in a ‘v’ symbol. “Peace and Love!

The crowd took up the shout and roared it back, the three simple words becoming a mantra that would define this night and echo down the ages.

Now lets Fuck!

The orgy that followed was legendary, though accounts of it were typically trimmed out of school textbooks. Jennifer had worked up quite a bit of a sweat on stage, and her super-pheromones had saturated the Woodstock estate to such an extent that it was only the power of her music that kept the crowd from descending into a rutting morass of animalistic sex. Once the music ended, the sex took over.

Jenny was right in the middle of it of course, groped and groping in equal measure, being kissed all over her body. She loved human contact, and the individual connections she had forged on the stage with her audience made the sexual trysts she experienced that night all the more meaningful. Hippies piled in to cuddle against her motherly curves, kiss her toes, lick her cunny or drink from her tits. Demand for her grew so strong that the horny goddess did what felt natural to her, and expanded her body; making herself thicker, curvier, more voluptuous, and so much larger. Her milkers grew into literal udders, giant sacks ready to burst, all to feed the hungry mouths around her. The adult hippies looked like infants next to her giant form, and she watched over them like an indulgent, loving mother as they fucked and kissed and communed in love. She was confident that they would not remember the superhuman particulars come the morning - the heavy drug-use and a little of her own power would see to that.

What was important was that they remember the emotion, the connection and feeling they shared at the font of this Venus-like fertility goddess. 

"Ahhhhhhh~ Keep sucking, my cuties, it feels so good…" Jinnifer bit her lips, vision becoming foggy from the pleasure.

"Y-yes, m-mommy~" Some of them answered sheepishly, and their voices were as arousing to her as the feeling of them climbing over her body to suck on her titties. New people replaced them as soon as each worshiper had drunk their fill, but Jenny’s breasts never tired and ran dry, not until each adult present had suckled on her breasts. She wanted this, not just because she was horny as fuck, but because she wanted to empower these souls to achieve the changes the sought. The milk was rich with magic and nutrients, and beyond boosting health and vitality worked on each drinker in different ways, enhancing strength or stamina or intellect as appropriate to their hopes and dreams. Not changes so obvious as to make them seem as demi-divine as the Enhanced might be, but more than enough to give them an edge in the world.

It also turbodrove their libidos and skills as sexual partners, making sure that the Woodstock Generation was especially capable in the second part of ‘peace and love’. The sexual energy radiating from the farm became so great that aross the entire county people and beasts and even plants felt the sexual call. Within a few weeks, everywhere for miles around would be a colorful riot of out-of-season flowers, the coming harvest would prove especially bountiful, and summer of 1970 would see a surge in childbirths.

"J-Jennifer…" Roger’s voice called her back into the present, and she saw that her newest companion had made his way to her. He was stripped naked, aglow with arousal, and looked well-ravished by the men and women in the crowd, yet had still managed to retain his gentlemanly manners. “I love you, please let me share myself with you, let me have the honor of making love to you.”

“Roger…” Jennifer cooed. Somehow, he’d managed to resist making love with strangers in the crowd, and fought his way to her side. He wanted to give himself to her and her alone, she could feel it, and was humbled and touched by the gift he had made of himself. “Yes, fill me up, let me take your seed and bear your children!”

It might have seemed impossible that a man of even Roger’s hunky build could have properly made love to someone of her now-titanic size, but as he climbed onto Jennifer’s crotch and slipped his aching manhood in between her legs he felt a surge of energy, then trembled throughout as his body grew, and his strength and stamina with it, not to Jennifer’s size, but sufficient that his now equally-hefty penis could properly delve her depths. And his mind swelled too, such that he could perceive truths and concepts that had previously eluded him, while a new power that he knew was magical in nature crackled within him.

The gathered hippies had received Jennifer’s blessing in a subtle way, but Roger was now Enhanced, and an exceptional one at that.

“Fuck, yes!” Jennifer shrieked in wanton glee as his newly-monsterfied dick drilled into her, Roger exerting all his power and stamina not to lose it. The feeling was indescribably good, and Roger’s repeated proclamations of  "I-I love you” only enhanced their sexual frenzy. Jennifer’s next orgasm spilled so many liters of milk from her boobs that the people sucking on them were washed off of her body. Only Roger held on to her torso, humping away with masterly dedication until he hit the bottom end of her womb and discharged the full store of his seed.

In an instant Jennifer knew that she had been successfully impregnated with triplets; three beautiful daughters according to her prescience, each of whom would grow up as Enhanced leaders of exceptional intelligence, compassion and charisma, under the watchful eye of their adoring parents. 

"A-Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Gifted with such a beautiful vision, Jennifer finally came, and managed to articulate some words in the middle of a wave of mind-destroying pleasure. "I-I love you t-too Roger… I LOVE YOU TOO!” 

And then, peace.



August 12, 2120 AD - Toronto, Canada

"-ment." Britney had hardly finished speaking before Jennifer reappeared, having only been absent for a split-second. The Super Goddess dropped back into her harem naked and slathered with sweat and cum and her own milk, curled-up arm in arm with an exceptionally handsome Enhanced, whose dick was still buried in Jennifer’s pussy even as the two of them slept. Both had the most contented smiles on their faces, but Britney suddenly had no thought for them.

All she could focus on was a mental shockwave, one that was also perceived by every Super Goddess and high-end Enhanced in the world. In a split-second they all felt the world change, and yet remain completely unaltered. Something had shifted history, and yet done so in an impossible way, such that events had ALWAYS unfolded like this. 

"What have you done?" Britney needed no guesses as to who was responsible for this quantum shift, given she had seen Jennifer blink in-and-out right as the change made itself felt. Gazing down at the sleeping couple she threw her own super-perception wide, and searched back in the flow of history for some clue as to what Jennifer had gotten up to.

The result was a name.

Jenny Time…” Britney blinked and cocked her heat. “Who the fuck is Jenny Time?” She had questions, and no doubt so did the other Super Goddesses she could now feel swooping towards Toronto.

But, at a guess, she would suppose the art queen had created the greatest artwork imaginable…

…and from the look of it, she’d had a fuck-ton of fun along the way.

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