"Ancient Rome."
I felt a moment of disorientation, and then everything changed. I was standing in ornate garden surrounded by marble columns, with a clear blue sky above. The temperature was pleasantly warm, a good thing since I was also naked. As that last thought struck me, an annoyed voice said 'Dammit, Actaeon! I need you to hold position!" At least, that's what my brain told me, though the actual sounds were nothing like English. A middle-aged man in off-white robes that had bands of brilliant blue scowled at me behind what looked to be a crude easel. A painter, and I was his subject. But I did not know what pose I should be in in. The man shook his head in obvious resignation. "Boys! OK, that's enough for today. Come back in the morning. I may be able to finish things up with one more session."
A lot of questions came to mind, but I wisely held my tongue and settled for a look at the painting. The man chuckled as I came over. "Vain as always - I am sure you will let me know if I have not captured your great beauty."
The painting showed an idealized youth, maybe mid-teens, surprisingly well endowed and possessing the trim, athletic build of a swimmer or wrestler. The boy's face was finished, surprisingly realistic and incredibly handsome. Bright blue eyes and a tousled mane of glossy black hair that game him a wild look. Then I remembered that this was supposed to be a portrait of me! Another glance down showed a match to the body and also the sexual equipment.
The man snorted. "Go on, boy. You must have some patron to meet with. My fault for using the most popular courtesan in all of Pompeii as a model."
Still a little confused, I looked around for clothes and saw none, then had the distinct impression that this Actaeon did not wear them. "Uh, yes sir. Thank you." I did not really know what the right thing to say was, but the man smiled and waved me off as he began putting his things away.
I had to stop an look in a reflecting pool before I left the garden. Wow! I was so handsome I was almost pretty. Grinning, I took an obvious exit to a moderately busy stone-paved street. Everything was surprisingly clean, other than occasional piles of what appeared to be animal droppings. It looked like a movie set, with men and women in togas, some males in loincloths or naked as I was, and mostly naked children. I got several looks, but they were admiring rather than critical, so I figured my being naked was OK.
So this was ancient Rome! I was a teenager, handsome and apparently well-known. The most popular courtesan? I frowned, then finally remembered what that meant. I was a prostitute. And in this time and place I probably entertained male and female customers. Runt had a one-track mind, didn't he? Curiously, I found that I did not mind this new experience at all. I was clean and in excellent health, which indicated I had money, or at least a decent place to stay. I jumped as a large hand squeezed my left butt cheek, and I spun to see a muscular young man dressed as a Centurion. He grinned at me. "Don't forget tonight, Actaeon. I have some of that special wine you like." As I struggled to come up with an answer, the ground suddenly shook enough to make me stagger slightly. I heard curses and shouts all around me, and animals brayed, whinnied, and mooed. "Earthquake!" I looked around in alarm, but only saw annoyed people picking up fallen pots.
"Good grief, boy." The Centurion looked annoyed. "You grew up in the mountain's shadow! I'd think you would be used to a little tremor like that."
It was only then that everything suddenly came together in my mind, and I looked past the ornate marble buildings to see a massive mountain peak rising high above, a mountain that had wisps of smoke rising from the top. I was a courtesan in the ancient Roman city of Pompeii, and that was Vesuvius. There was no danger of my changing the future no matter what I did here. Every man, woman, and child would be killed when the mountain erupted and buried Pompeii in ash for more than a thousand years.