Mitochondrial Eve (Southern Africa, 150,000 B.C.)

The Professor spent the next few hours fine tuning his final **** on Cumdumpster, with Reiko slowly and sensuously sucking his cock all the while as if this was all completely normal for her. Cumdumpster would never come again, he had decided. She would spend the rest of her life edging, never able to quite get over the edge again. If he had gotten her pregnant, great. If not, she would keep letting other men creampie her without either birth control or other protections until she was. Then she would put whatever ambitions she had permanently on hold in order to raise her child, if a boy, to fuck and **** as many women as possible, or if a girl, to be the perfect submissive cunt. From now on, Cumdumpster’s life would be one of complete sexual frustration, while she devoted all of her energies to helping her child perpetuate the patriarchy.

That taken care of, he went back to the airport in order to head back to his lab, leaving Cumdumpster in LA on the way (he had honestly considered just leaving her in Tokyo with no money and no ability to speak the language, but that seemed overly petty, somehow). He spent the next few months in research mode, with only occasional breaks to fuck the shit out of various extremely willing, extremely attractive young women.

Relatively soon, however, he was ready to put his plans into motion. If he got this right, he was going to fix everything once and for all. Though he fully admitted that his plan might take several tries to fully come to fruition. Or to be brought to a climax. He hadn’t decided on the best pun.

*****

He arrived on the African savannah with a backpack heavily laden with equipment, along with a handgun strapped to his hip. He wasn’t a big **** guy, but given that running into a Sabretooth Tiger on this trip was a genuinely possibility, it seemed like a reasonable precaution. After a very thirsty day’s worth of poking around, he found a small depression in a rocky outcropping which, as far as he could tell, had one way in and one way out, through which he could see any unwanted intruders coming. There, he set up his tent and his solar generator, then set to work.

He was generally opposed to extra exercise when he could avoid it, and so he performed his remaining search of the area, not on foot, but via a pair of battery-powered drones, which he had brought in pieces and then assembled. They combed the area from above, searching for signs of human habitation in the year 150,000 B.C.

For two days, he didn’t find anything. He was starting to think he might need to head back to the 21st century for more supplies. On the morning of the third day, however, one of his drones spotted a broad-shouldered man with dark skin, running purposefully across the grasslands after an antelope. Not exactly what he needed, but maybe a clue. He had the drone follow the man’s trail back in the direction that he had been running from. Some time later, he found a small, rocky cave in the side of a hill, its entrance marked with primitive paintings.

He had the drone search the area around the mouth of the cave, and soon enough, he found her, leaning down to drink from a stream with two cupped hands. She wore only a small skin over her crotch and other, ornamental bands of bones and other skins around her neck and wrists. Her long, black dreadlocks spilled over her well-muscled shoulders. He hadn't expected to find her attractive, but he did.

Her mate would not return for a few hours at least. More than enough time for The Professor, especially considering that his Time Machine could get him to her twenty minutes ago.

When he arrived at the mouth of the cave, she was apparently still inside. He was reticent to approach, given she was likely to attack any intruders. And unlike every other woman he had met on his travels, he couldn’t talk to her. He couldn’t program his nanites with the local language, because nobody in his time had any idea what the local language was. It was a unique problem, given that his escapades to date had mostly involved putting women under and then telling them what he wanted them to do.

He took a few tentative steps into the cave and found her within, stirring something in a large pot over a fire. She looked up at him and immediately shot to her feet, producing a loud, guttural yell. This was closely followed by a stream of words he did not understand, periodically punctuated by clicking noises she made with her tongue.

Instead, he raised his gun and fired. A dart struck her in the stomach. She yelled in surprise, removing the dart with her hand. She looked at him, pure anger in her eyes, and charged. He barely had time to react as she tackled him. It was all he could do to hold her off for a few seconds.

“Stop!” he shouted. “Fuck, hold up a second, bitch! Let’s talk about this.”

Somewhat to his surprise, she did stop, lying on top of him on the hard floor of the cave, and asked, “Wait, who are you? Why… what’s happening?”

He couldn’t teach himself her language, but he could use his nanites to teach her his. They could do other things in a subject’s brain, too, as he could see she was starting to find out.

“You are white as a spirit,” she commented, “and even so…” He felt her breathing quicken, and her nipples harden against him. She squirmed on top of him. “Oh…” she breathed.

A cocktail of carefully regulated hormones had flooded her system, to the point that she was absolutely **** for any man. In short, she suddenly found herself horny as fuck.

“Stranger, you…” She sniffed, then licked his neck. Then she growled in his ear, “I need your penis now.”

She fumbled at his pants, not sure how to undo them, until he hurriedly opened his belt and fly. She pulled out his erect cock (shockingly, a moaning woman writhing on top of him, even one who hadn't taken a shower in her life, had done it for him) and nodded appreciatively. Then she removed her loincloth and flung it aside before straddling him. Slowly, she lowered herself down onto him.

She groaned, a deep, low noise, and shouted something that might have been a curse word in her language as she took in his full length. Then she began to ride him, hard. She gyrated her torso while simultaneously bouncing up and down vigorously on his cock. There was no foreplay, no tenderness. Just animal fucking.

He watched her on top of him, a vision of sweaty need. He would not have expected a modern woman to be so completely lost to her hormones within moments, but the veneer of civilization was apparently thinner when civilization had not been invented yet. She had only her urges left, nothing else. Her well-defined stomach muscles rippled as she rode him, her ass and breasts shaking.

Within a few minutes, her screams grew lounder, and her pussy quivered around him. This sent him over the edge, and he spurted his seed into her.

Then she pulled off of him and laid back on the stone, jizz leaking out of her pussy. The fire continued to sputter in the background.

“I… don’t usually do that,” she said.

The Professor actually hadn’t intended to fuck her quite so quickly. He had wanted to run a couple tests to confirm whether she was a good candidate first. But he supposed there wasn’t anything keeping him from doing it now. He pawed around in the pockets of the pants around his ankles before producing his swab kit.

“Would you open your mouth for me?” he asked.

She stared at him, skeptical. Then, slowly, her lips parted. He leaned forward with a Q-tip and quickly swabbed the inside of her cheek.

*****

Back at his camp, he quickly ran her sample through his field tester. Somewhat to his surprise, she belonged to the correct DNA sub-haplogroup. That, combined with the time and geographic location, meant that the chances his mission had been a success weren’t actually that bad.

The woman he was looking for was the one who scientists referred to as Mitochondrial Eve. That is, the earliest common matrilineal ancestor of the entire modern human race. He didn’t know what she looked like or what her real name was, but he knew her basic genetic profile, and he knew the approximate area and approximate time where she had most likely lived. He hoped that, even if he couldn’t find the exact “Eve,” if he fucked enough women in this area around this time period, he could make sure she was infected.

It was perhaps his finest creation: a retrovirus that attached itself to female DNA, highly transmissible through bodily fluids, which ensured that a very specific set of traits were passed down to any female offspring. He had infected himself with this virus, and had thus passed it on to the woman in the cave. It would not affect him, as it did not affect any DNA with a Y chromosome, but he could pass it on to as many women as possible.

He had spent a good deal of time selecting and refining the specific traits his virus would ensure were passed down to subsequent generations of women. Physically, they included symmetrical features, big tits and asses, and high fertility. He wanted to make every woman who had ever lived a "ten." He had also, inspired by at least one of the timelines he had seen, thrown in a wider variety of possible natural hair colors. He supported diversity, after all. He’d made a handful of other changes, too, getting rid of gag reflexes, increasing sexual responsiveness, increasing disease resistance, etc.

But the real genius of the virus, if he said so himself, were the mental traits selected by the virus. Intelligence of the subject would be significantly lowered, while her sex drive would be drastically increased. She would be submissive and obedient by nature. If he’d gotten it right, she would even be turned on by obeying authority.

And at the last moment, almost on a whim, he has thrown in an additional tweak. If he’d gotten it right, female offspring of infectees should be born without vocal cords, then pass that trait on to their own female children. He saw no need for women to talk.

Now he needed to find another suitable candidate and fuck her brains out. For the future.