You, But Kinkier

The room is so dark that I can barely see anything at all. The only source of light is the smartphone screen being carried around by the woman who tied me to this chair. I don’t recognize where we are, but when someone kidnaps you doesn’t usually end up being your own apartment and I don’t know what other place I would recognize with it being this dark.

“So, tell me who you are again?” I struggled in the ropes for at least the tenth time. Fuck. I lost track. My arms are tied to the arms of a very comfortable char. That’s fine enough. At least they won’t get sore even if the soft rope is a bit too tight for my tastes. My legs being spread open wide and tied in place they’re trapped in position flush with the outside of the legs of the chair? That’s not quite as comforting. It might be a bit less if she’d let my skirt be over my legs instead of bunched up around my waist.

The ropes under and over my breasts aren’t the most comforting, either.

“I told you already.” She’s facing away from me and looking down at her phone so I’m basically blind. I struggle a little more, but either the chair is too heavy or it’s attached to the floor. I don’t give up, but I’m covered in at least two layers of sweat. Unless someone shows up to rescue me I don’t see how I’m getting out of this. “I’m you, but kinkier.”

“What does that even mean though? Me but kinkier? That’s one of the weirdest things anyone’s ever said to me.” I bite my lip and try to roll my hips to push my skirt down over my legs. I can’t even get it to cover my panties. So embarrassing. It’d be bad enough if they weren’t white with pink hearts and a little red bow in the middle of the waistband. I look like some kind of Valentines Candy slut.

My captor sighs. “No. It. Isn’t. I told you, I’m you, but kinkier. I know when you’re lying. That’s nowhere as weird as some of the things you’ve heard. I’m you.” She shakes her head, which I can only tell because of the light of her phone going in and out of view. The allegory of the cave was a lot more fun to read about than experience. “Please don’t ask again.”

The very first impulse that comes to me is to ask “why not?” but I resist. Barely. If she’s really some kind of future-me then I know what a bad temper she’s got. She’s definitely kinkier than me. A little light bondage is hot, but abduction fetishes are a bit beyond me. Ropes boosting my tits up for example?

I guess there isn’t rope squished over and around my breasts just underneath, but it… It’s still a bit intense for me.

Apparently she’s also gotten over a lot of very reasonable taboos, like violating the space-time continuum to kidnap herself. It’s hard to not imagine it’s just for sex when she’s got me bound up like this, but I can’t really see where she would plan to go from here.

What the hell would make me into some kind of time traveling dominatrix?

She doesn’t say anything else. It’s so quiet in here that I can hear her tapping away at her phone. She’s not from far enough in the future that her future tech works better enough to be indistinguishable from clumsy touchscreens. Great. The future is going to suck.

I struggle a little more and try not to pant. The rope between my legs is definitely pulled a little tight, cleaving my cute heart panties in half. It does hide the bow, but she already saw it.

I guess if she’s a future, kinkier me than she’s worn these panties before. It makes me feel even dizzier than the way the rope digs in whenever I try to struggle. I wish it didn’t feel good. I’m really not into this.

The silence is deafening, so I decide to break it some way other than actively pissing her off. She asked me not to ask her something, so…

“Okay! I won’t ask you that again… Nnn so can you let me go yet?”

“No.”

Not whining isn’t an option. Her voice is definitely mine-enough, but she’s using our flatly unamused tone. My flatly unamused tone. She might be amused, but I’m not, and that voice is mine. Even if she’s older, I’m the one native to this timeline so I think I still have more right to it here than she does. Probably. Right?

She sighs and I can hear her walking behind me. “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” I nod. Can she remember that I’m nodding? Does she know what I’m thinking? If so then this is going to be all kinds of awkward. Trying harder to not feel the way the rope feels between my legs isn’t getting me anywhere. “Damn it. Look, I’ll make it really easy for you, okay? I’ll show you the way the timeline works. Then you can stop asking about it and I can get to work.”

“O…kay…?” Timeline? There’s a whole timeline of this? I blink. I was just walking home from getting some soda and a candy bar. I know that soda is bad for me, but I didn’t think it was this bad. “That sounds… nice…? Uhm. Should I call you Whitney or-”

“You really don’t need to try to be chummy with me.” I huff. So much for trying to be polite. “Look, we both know you aren’t any good at it, and you’re just as intolerable to be as you are to interact with. Here. Just be quiet for a moment and look at this while I put on your clamps.”

My eyes open wide as she holds the smartphone in front of my face. There’s some lines on it and some words but I’m a little bit distracted by what she just said. “Wait! Cla-Nhaaa!”

Tight. Way too tight. Way too firm. My nipple throbs and screams and aches. When she lets go of it there must be some kind of weight attached because I try to lurch forward so it doesn’t hurt so bad. It doesn’t work. It’s intense.

Ow!

“Clamps. Nipple clamps.” She says it in the most matter-of-fact way, and even though she whispers it right into my ear it’s still hard for me to really hear when I’m breathing so hard and my heart is pumping so fast. I was more scared than I was letting on before, but I am a lot more scared now with how devil-may-care she is about this. “I don’t know what else you were expecting. I mean, I should, but I don’t. That’s not how this works. Now, look.”

She doesn’t care when I whine. Sure. Why not? Sexually brutalize yourself, I guess. That sounds like fun. It’s totally not making my eyes fill with tears or anything.

It takes a moment to really get my eyes to focus. It’s so dark, and the phone is close to my face. At least I don’t need glasses. It’s less of a “timeline” as I’m used to the word being used and more of a weird flowchart. It starts off with an “alpha” timeline that details all of the life that I remember pretty well. Cool. Great. I don’t know why we had to mark down the time our teacher caught me staring down her top, or the first time I masturbated.

Kinkier seems accurate in terms of exhibitionism too, but seeing more of these little details still don’t really help me feel a lot calmer.

My future self starts to tease her fingertips around my nipple. That’s not really calming either. I want to say that I don’t feel anything. I mean, it’s not like I’m not into girls, but being molested by my future self isn’t really something that I want to turn me on.

The screen dimly pulses, and my eyes go back to trying to figure out the timeline. Its lighting isn’t steady, almost flickering. It makes it harder to read, but a little easier to just let future-me rub my nipple. That’s… nice I guess. It doesn’t feel bad. Really it feels… pretty good. Should it feel so good? It didn’t feel so good a minute ago, but now I can’t stop moaning.

Alpha timeline keeps going for a while, until it starts describing things that never happened to me. I haven’t finished my degree. I definitely haven’t met any women named Laura who took me out on an unforgettable date—though that does sound like a pretty good time. I’ve definitely never had a woman take me out to a fancy Italian place and then eaten me out on her balcony while I howled staring up at the stars. There really are a lot of very personal, fine details.

Fuck that sounds… really hot. It probably doesn’t help that my future self keeps twisting and squeezing my nipple. I can’t stop moaning.

“Keep reading, sweetie…” She whispers into my ear before she starts to nibble. I moan out a slurred yes. I sound drunk. I feel drunk. Something about the way the light of her phone keeps flickering just feels really good, really sweet, really special…

The timeline branches and curls back into the alpha timeline, but I keep following that line for now. Eventually it goes through a series of bad relationships and a fascination with hypnosis. Okay. Kinky. Weird. Apparently we looked into the ways to make technology that… stimulates a hypnosis like state... It could slip in suggestions, things they wouldn’t even notice as strange, and then it… then it… made them feel sleepy, weak, and open to deeper... suggestion… stronger than real hypnosis…

“Nhaaaaa!” Another clamp squeezes around my other nipple. It feels so good. The way it pinches. The way it squeezes. My thighs want to rub together, but it feels so hot to have them forced apart, too. I grind into the rope between my legs and moan. The only bad part about it being there is that I can’t get another clamp over my clit.

Clamps… bondage… Mmm being controlled by some silly smartphone app… No way that could work but it sounds so sexy…

“Wow, you’re this gone already. I guess this version of the app is pretty strong. At least I got to the part where we used it on a woman with a time machine and decided that the only ones who could really appreciate our work was our own past selves… You really are a slut!” She nips and tugs at my ear and I clench around the rope between my legs that much harder.

“I’m a sluuut!” I can’t help it. She said it and it’s just… True. She says it, and there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s true, that it’s always been true. I’m a slut. I’m a slut! Thinking it makes my clit throb harder. It’s so hard to think, but everything she says just slides right in…

Slides it smoother than her fingers would slide into my dripping wet slutty pussy…

She giggles in my ear. It’s my sex giggle. My own kinky future self is giving me my sex giggle right into my own ear… Fuck, that makes me so fucking hot! I’m such a slut. “Fuck. This is even hotter the older version of me that showed up at my door said it was. Fuck. Alpha Whitney is going to be so fucking happy with our progress! We’re such kinky little mind fucked sluts!” She presses her tits into my back, and I can feel them through the slats in the back of the chair. Her nipples are so hard. Maybe even as hard as mine.

My hips can’t buck any harder. I’m trying to rub my cunt into the rope so hard, but it’s just not enough on its own. I feel so slow and tired and sleepy. I can’t stop moaning when she keeps fondling my breasts. She knows just where I like to be sucked on my neck and she won’t stop. It’s like she’s sucking all of the strength right out of my mind…

“Alpha Whitney has at least ten of us by now, all stolen from a slightly different point in time…” She moans into my ear, and twists one of the clamps until it won’t twist anymore. I scream, or at least I think I do. I feel so fuzzy. The screen is flashing words and I can almost make them out. It’s hard, but it feels so good. I can’t stop staring. I can’t stop moaning. “After your reprogramming… Oooh… Is complete… She’ll give you a fetish for this too, and you’ll go back… just… just like I did!”

She screams in my ear. She’s cumming. I know that scream. It’s so hot. All of this is so hot. I cum right along with her, shaking so hard.

There’s another layer of sweat over my body, but I’m not scared at all. I just want to go back in time and show myself the screen. I think that’s what the words are teaching me. I just need to go back at least a month before one of the other times…

“We’re… Alpha Whitney’s slaves…” Future-me moans into my ear, and I moan with her. “Say it… Say it and… and I can untie you. I want to sixty-nine with my own younger self.”

“Kinky…” I moan it out without really thinking it. “We’re Alpha Whtiney’s slaves… Mmm I want to sixty-nine with my own younger self…” Something about hearing my own voice say things when my mind feels so floaty and open and helpless just makes it slide right in…

Her voice is so hot, I want it between my legs.

“B-but…”

“But what…?” She stops, her voice sounding worried. I don’t feel worried, but I can’t feel unfuzzy enough to really be bothered. The lights and words make it easier to surrender and sink and float and fuzz but not easier to worry.

I giggle, wiggling my bound legs. “Don’t untie me all the way at first… I’m a kinky slut… I want to fuck tied up, too…” She giggles another sex giggle in my ear and nibbles just beneath my ear. I almost cum just from that

She blows into my ear, and I clutch so tight at the chair under my hands. “Mmm you bet, past me. I don’t think I’m kinkier than you anymore. We’re both such kinky sluts.”

We giggle together, and it’s easy to lose track of whose giggles are who’s. All I know for sure is that I am drenched, and I’m going to be even wetter in no time.