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May 09, 2017

Two weeks ago I invented time travel, making an indelible mark on scientific history. Since then, despite my best efforts to avoid it, I’ve fucked my grandma ten times.

Two weeks ago I invented time travel, making an indelible mark on scientific history. Since then, despite my best efforts to avoid it, I’ve fucked my grandma ten times. I wanted to share my experience so others can avoid this horrible accident.


I waved goodbye to my assistant Chad and travelled back to my hometown in the year 1954 - a small 60-year test-leap to make sure the machine was functioning properly. When I arrived in the past, I stopped by Frankie’s, the old soda shop that’d been around forever. In this era, it was brand new and filled with people!

As I sipped my root-beer at the bar, I was approached by a gorgeous young woman who introduced herself as Tipsy. My grandma (89 in the present day) is named Martha DeWine, so I certainly didn’t make a connection.

One thing led to another and I had sex with Tipsy.

The next morning, as we ate breakfast, she mentioned Tipsy was just a nickname. To my horror, she revealed her real name was Martha DeWine (the name of my grandmother). Realizing what I’d done, I bolted out of the house, found my time-machine, and blasted back to the present.

Ashamed and fearful of the temporal repercussions, I swore I would never let this happen again.


I began to realize how odd it must have been for Tipsy when she told me her name and I ran out of the house screaming. Guilty, I decided to go back and explain myself.

Though my assistant Chad protested, insisting that it ultimately didn’t matter, I loaded back into the time machine and materialized near Tipsy’s house. I found her in the living room, crying.

I told Tipsy I suspected we were part of the same family, and she told me not to worry - she was adopted!

Relief ran through my entire body. We both starting laughing about the whole misunderstanding. She playfully pushed my knee.

One thing led to another and I had sex with Tipsy.

The next morning, as we ate breakfast, a terrifying thought occurred to me: Tipsy being adopted doesn’t actually stop her from being my grandma.

Needless to say, I panicked, dropping my glass of fresh orange juice on the floor before sprinting full-speed back to the time-machine.

Back in the present day, I prayed neither of my unforgivable mistakes would result in a time-stream shattering paradox that could, potentially, destroy the universe as we know it.


As I lay awake that night, the most intriguing thought occurred to me. What if I was meant to become my own grandfather? He died long before I was born, but my family had always commented on our similar appearances.

If this was the case, a failure to conceive myself could result in my disappearance.

Chad attempted to physically restrain me, shouting that my theory was extremely unlikely and incestuous but, fearing for my own life, I jumped into the time machine determined to have sex with my grandmother once again, this time WITHOUT protection.

She was shocked at my appearance, but I managed to calm her by insisting I wanted to have a child with her.

One thing led to another and I had unprotected sex with Tipsy.

The next morning, as we ate breakfast, someone knocked on the door. Tipsy opened it to reveal a man I recognized from pictures as my grandfather. While we did look very similar, it was immediately apparent that I wasn’t him.

Finally grasping the full scope of my horrible accident, I screamed and turned over the table. Tipsy tried to restrain me but I broke free and jumped through an open window to the field, where my Time-Machine was waiting to transport me back to the present.

My shame was truly bottomless. I vowed an oath - I would never return to my grandmother’s time. I will have to live with my sins forever. I could only take the smallest comfort in the true miracle that my action’s hadn’t yet destroyed any lives beyond my own.


I loaded up the time machine for a trip to the early 1700’s, intent on NOT fucking my grandma again. Chad, visibly relieved, helped me pack my supplies.

The time machine activated. I was back in 1954. Whoops! It completely slipped my mind to reprogram the time-machine for a new destination and now it would need 12 hours to recharge.

Eager to NOT fuck my grandma, I crept into a local bar which had just opened. The bartender led me to a shadowy corner booth and informed me I could stay all day as long as I bought some drinks.

The beverages were quite potent. As regulars began milling in at 7 or 8, I was forced to leave the establishment due to my inebriated behavior.

From that point on, I remember only flashes: a neon sign. A car horn. Tipsy waving. A cold railing.

One thing led to another and I assume I had sex with Tipsy.

I awoke the next morning with a splitting headache in an unfamiliar bedroom. It was at that moment Tipsy entered with breakfast, wearing nothing but her underwear bottoms.

In pure shock, I vomited all over the goose-feather bed and onto Tipsy’s hard-wood floor. Tipsy dropped her meal and the loud clatter made me vomit once again, this time projecting the stream onto Tipsy’s gorgeously prepared sunny-side-up eggs. She began to cry as I wobbled to my feet, attempting to run out of the house. With desperation in her eyes, she begged me not to leave, but I was so disgusted at my own actions I couldn’t bear to look at her. I dove through the screen door and stumbled down the road to my time-machine.

Upon my arrival in the present day, I locked the time-machine away in the laboratory and declared I would never again flaunt the power of God. What little joy I had left in my life was surely doomed to disintegrate once my timeline was compromised by the repeated fucking of my dear, 89-year-old Grandma Martha. I called to say goodbye to my dear friends, knowing I might blip out of existence at any moment.


Two days later, I was incredibly aroused. I left Chad a note detailing my intentions, took the time machine back to 1954, and asked my grandma if she wanted to fuck.

One thing led to another and I had sex with Tipsy.

The next morning, as Tipsy and I were eating breakfast, the full implications of what I had done hit me like a truck. Sobbing uncontrollably at my own weakness, I took a tenderizing mallet from her drawer and broke every plate I could find as she looked on from the next room. As soon as I finished with the plates, I used the mallet to strike the hinges off the door and escaped to my time machine.

I was truly damned. My stomach was writhing constantly in sheer horror and disgust at my actions. The deepest circle of hell was too good for me - I knew I could no longer trust myself.


A solution to my problems came to me in a dream: I would travel back in time and stop myself from sleeping with my Tipsy. As soon as I did, the version of me who fucked his grandma would cease to exist and a new incest-free timeline would be created.

Chad barred the doorway to my laboratory, yelling that if I returned to the past I’d just end up fucking my grandmother again - that it’s all I ever did! Despite my insistence that fucking Tipsy was the very thing I was trying to avoid, Chad only moved out of my way under threat of termination.

I arrived back on the same day I originally slept with Tipsy (my grandma). I stowed away the time-machine, jumped into the bushes outside her house, and waited.

15 minutes later, Tipsy and past-me approached, smiling and flirting with each other. I kept my eyes peeled for any opportunity to speak with past-me without alerting Tipsy.

But no time ever came! I began fondling Tipsy on her bed while I was forced to watch.

But then, a ray of hope! Tipsy excused herself to go and slip into something more comfortable. This was my chance.

I found an open window and immediately scrambled inside. Unfortunately, I tripped over the sill, making a small clatter.

Tipsy ran around the corner and saw me. She smiled slyly. Assuming I was the same man she came home with, she thought I was incredibly eager to get started (with sex) and threw herself at me with gusto, right there in the kitchen. I couldn’t think of any way to explain how I wasn’t the man upstairs!

One thing led to another and I had very fast sex with Tipsy.

I finished as quickly as I possibly could, then slyly asked her to wait a few seconds before following me up to the bedroom, where I knew she would find past-me completely naked and fully-erect, waiting for her on the bed.

I climbed out through another window and, whimpering, took my time machine back to the present.


I immediately realized my error. I hadn’t gone far enough into the past! I stopped back in the present only long enough to tell Chad what had happened. After disarming Chad of the crowbar he attempted to destroy the Time Machine Engines with, I zoomed back to 1954 - the same day, but several hours earlier!

Back outside the soda shop where I originally met Tipsy, I peeked in to see myself sitting at the counter, sipping my root-beer with the simple innocence of a man who hadn’t fucked his grandma 6 times already. There was Tipsy, eyeing me from across the room. She began walking with a seductive gleam in her eye!

I had to act fast. I grabbed a milkshake from a nearby table and set myself on an intercept course.

Just as I reached Tipsy, I pretended to stumble, and spilled the milkshake all down her front. I mumbled an apology and made a quick escape. Surely, her dress ruined, Tipsy wouldn’t have any interest in approaching past-me, who had yet to notice her.

SUCCESS! I was becoming transparent, and already beginning to forget the events of the past several days! I had successfully averted my timeline. I managed to give one last shout of relief and joy before everything faded to black…

… When I arrived in the past, I stopped by Frankie’s, the old soda shop that’d been around forever. In this era, it was brand new and filled with people!

As I sipped my root-beer at the bar, I heard a commotion behind me. A gorgeous young woman was standing in the corner, fussing over her stained dress. I grabbed a wet towel from the bar and made my way over to help. The woman, extremely thankful (and fairly charmed) introduced herself as Tipsy. My grandma (89 in the present day) is named Martha DeWine, so I certainly didn’t make a connection.

One thing led to another and I had sex with Tipsy.

The next morning, as we ate breakfast, I experienced a strong sense of deja vu. Without warning, the entirety of the last several days came rushing back to me! MY ORIGINAL TIMELINE HAD REASSERTED ITSELF! Without any reason to NOT have sex with Tipsy, I had simply done it again - this was, in fact, the seventh time!

Howling like an animal, I tore the shirt off my body and flung my silverware at the wall. Tipsy screamed, but my emotions had far surpassed the capacity for human reason or logic. Snarling like a wild hog, I leapt onto the table and smashed each drinking glass before running, hunched, out the front door; back to the time machine; back to the present; back to my eternal shame.


Having now fucked my grandma seven times, I knew repercussions to my timeline were inevitable. Without any hope of fixing my mistake, the only thing left to me was a morbid curiosity as to the consequences.

Nothing about my present day seemed particularly strange or different. Things must be worse in the future. Fortunately, I have a machine that will allow me to take a quick peek at that very thing. Chad, though hesitant, couldn’t think of a way I’d end up having to fuck my grandma if I travelled to the future, and so let me proceed unmolested.

I loaded up the time machine and headed a minuscule 5 years into the future.

I found myself in a hospital, where my grandma was dying (at the age of 94). Alone in her hospital bed, she didn’t recognize me as her grandson, but greeted me with joy as the young man who had given her so much pleasure all those years ago.

She had been given a day to live by her Doctor. Her dying wish was for me to make love to her one last time, as I had during that glorious week from her youth.

One thing led to another and I had sex with Grandma Martha.

I put my clothes back on, crying softly to myself, trying not to let Grandma see. This wasn’t hard because most of her senses had deteriorated long ago. Just as I was slipping out the door, however, she thanked me for the most romantic night of her life: a final evening we spent together in 1954 under a full moon that I had no memory of. It had made her entire life worth living. Confused, I jumped back in the time machine and disappeared.


My grandmother was speaking of an evening which hadn’t happened. The moon wasn’t full during Tipsy and I’s time together.

And yet that night had made her entire life worth living. As a grandson who loved her very much (not like that), it was my responsibility to give it to her.

Chad broke down in tears, begging me not to return to the past and fuck my grandma again. I tried to explain that I had no choice, but he was set in his simplistic belief that I never had to have sex with my grandma at all. That’s why he’s the assistant and I’m the scientist.

As he beat on the Time-Machine door, trying to get me out, I calculated the nearest full-moon to my earlier visits and zipped back to 1954.

Once there, I took Tipsy on the most romantic date you could imagine. We sipped wine at the nicest restaurant in town, went dancing under the stars, and finally ended up back at her place listening to music on the radio.

One thing led to another and I made passionate love to Tipsy.

The next morning, I calmly said my goodbyes, kissed Tipsy on the forehead and told her to live a full life. She was a little confused, but I squeezed her hands once more and told her I knew she would. Walking back towards the woods where my time machine was hidden, a single tear ran down my cheek. I knew I would never fuck my grandma again and I felt kind of sad about it.


I was so sad, I decided to run back to the house and have sex with Tipsy a couple more times before I returned to the present. I don’t regret this at all.

And there you have it. As you begin to time-travel in your own life, be extremely careful not to fuck your grandma. These events couldn’t be avoided in my life, but with proper awareness, you may be able to avert them in yours! I’m also searching for a new assistant - any interested applicants, please send your resumes to TheTimeInstitute@gmail.com.