Karen – Back to the Future by MonsterP63
Part I
It started as a faint orange glow in a corner of an abandoned building near downtown Los Angeles. The glow grew in size, and became more opaque. It was soon filling the entire corner, then, it vaporized quickly, leaving a strange shadow in that same corner.
The shadow moved slowly, getting acquainted with its surroundings. It walked slowly forward. The dim fluorescence from the moon entering from a broken window shed some light on the shadow. It was by all mean a woman, dressed with a frilly shirt and flared polyester pants.
She carefully walked out of the building, stepping on her thick platform shoes with a large block heel. Getting out of the building, she walked carefully toward the city lights, and the nightlife.
The sidewalks were crowded. She was looking as she was searching for something, producing a large smile to any men looking at her, but most men and women were laughing, rather than smiling.
“Hey babe, where have you been? Stuck in a cave for the last 15 years or so?” said a tall man, laughing with his friends.
The woman simply smiled back at him, but she was looking more and more disturbed. She walked past a newspaper distributing machine. She stopped and she stared at the newspaper headline for a long moment, until a woman gently pushed her aside to take a newspaper herself.
“We… Thiz his 1985?” asked the mysterious woman, with a strange accent, somewhere between German and Spanish.
“Sorry?” said the one with the newspaper. “Euh….. yes, we’re in 1985, if it is your question. But I would guess you’re going for a 70’s party.” She gently said. “You’re definitely out of time.”
“I knwavis whee thingssomenn gradd.” Said the mysterious lady.
“Say what?” asked the other. “You’re not from around town, aren’t you?”
“Err… No… I’m nout exactly from haere.” She said with a very strong accent. “I want mate.”
“Wow! That’s quite direct, but you’re not going get someone dressed like you are, and speaking like you are unless you’re very lucky.”
“Veery lycky? How do I come lyky?
The woman with the newspaper started to laugh.
“Sorry, you’re accent is so… funny. By the way, my name is Lynda.”
“Ah… Me name Karen.”
“Nice to meet you, Karen. Well, good luck finding a mate.” She said with a laugh. “I have to go. Bye!” said Lynda while walking away, but she stopped when she heard Karen sobbing. She turned and went back to her.
“Hey! What’s going on? Don’t be so depressed. All you have to do is to get a few new clothes and you’re in business.” She said.
“No. Misseeon failed. Wroung yeer.” She said, putting her face in her hands.
Lynda embraced her by the shoulders.
“Oh, come on. I’ll buy you a coffee.” She said, taking her by the hand and dragging. Karen followed, not knowing where she was getting led.
Along the way, she was able to notice how women were dressed, and realized that indeed, she was not dressed for the right period. Every women were wearing jeans, and rather tight fitting. Some wore small boots with flat heels, while others were wearing high heel sandals. But she hadn’t studied anything about this epoch. She would have to learn, but time was limited. Perhaps her new friend, Lynda would help. But for that, she would have to explain everything. Could she do it?
They entered a small restaurant, and sat in a remote corner. Karen noticed that Lynda had some difficulties taking seat, as if her lower back was stiff. Lynda ordered two coffees. The waitress was there within a few minutes. Then Lynda softly looked at the stranger.
“Listen, Karen. I don’t know where you’re from, or what you’re looking for, but there’s something terribly wrong about this whole… setup. Can you tell me what it’s all about?”
“It’s difficoult. I don’t waint to go bad on my misseeon.”
“What kind of mission is that?” asked Lynda, starting to feel that it was a mistake to have invited her, that she was dealing with some kind of weirdo.
“I… I come froum the future.” Said Karen with a very low voice. “I waiz suppouse to go back arund 1970, but somewhere, sometheeng went wrong, and I inded-up now.”
“Really? From the future?” said Lynda, laughing. “From what year?”
“The calendear was reset after the Last War, so I’m froum my year 62, but in yoor calendar it would bee 2819… I think.”
“Yeah, right. Oh well, better have some fun.” Said Lynda to herself, then, looking straight at Karen: “Okay, what’s the story?”
Karen looked surprised.
“You dount want to know the Future? I was tauld that if I said I was from the future, I would get asked.”
“Why? I’ll be long dead in 2819. And anyways, judging by the way you’re dressed, I don’t think you really got your history lessons right.”
“I know everything I have to know about the 1970’s, but nothing about the 1980’s”, she said with practically no accent. Lynda noticed.
“Gee, you suddenly lost your accent? How did you do that?” she asked, feeling that she had caught the con artist in the act.
“I learn by listening to you and the others in the proximity. I have a learning implant.” She said, as if it was perfectly normal. Lynda raised her eyebrows.
“Really… Well, whatever. You want to tell me more, or we leave it this way?” she asked, feeling that she had had enough of miss too much imagination in front of her.
At that moment, the restaurant got filled by a bunch of noisy teenagers, taking up pretty much all the place of the small dining room.
“This is coming too noisy.” Said Karen. “We will have to talk somewhere else.”
“Okay.” Said Lynda with a sigh, getting up and leaving. A few young men followed her, or rather her tightly encased butt along the aisle, and one whistled at her. Lynda answered with a smile and by squeezing her tightly wrapped bun with her hand, much to the delight of the young men. Karen noticed.
“Where do we go?” asked Lynda, once out of the now crowded restaurant. “Your place or mine?”
“I… I don’t have any… place of mine.” Said Karen.
“Gee. Why am I not surprised?” Said Lynda. “Oh what the hell, it’s rather dull tonight anyway. Come with me.” She said, leading the way.
They took a bus home. Of course, Lynda had to pay for Karen’s fair. She wondered if she had made the good choice. No, she rather wondered why she felt compelled to help this strange woman. She felt as if she simply had to do it.
Once at her apartment building, they took the stairs to climb the three flights to reach Lynda’s apartment. Karen, who was trailing, commented:
“I find your pants look rather small for your size.” She said, probably referring to the apparent difficulties Lynda seemed to have to climb stairs.
“No, they’re just fine.” She answered, panting. “In fact, they could be a wee bit smaller, but that’s another story.”
“Ah.” Simply answered Karen.
Once inside the apartment, Lynda offered her a beer.
“A beer. It’s an… alcoholic beverage, right?”
“Yes, it is.” Said Lynda handling her a glass filled with the amber liquid. Karen tasted it, and seemed satisfied.
“So, what’s up?” asked Lynda, while taking place on the soft sofa, facing Karen who was sitting on a chair. “What is it about this whole future gag?”
“You mean joke, right? No, this is no joke. We had a couple of wars in the past centuries, and the Last War, named that way because it was the last one, and the survivors swore that it was going to be the really last one, wiped off half of the inhabitants of the planet. The ones left, gradually, stopped reproducing. The exact cause is not known, but with all the radiation and chemicals contaminants, it could be anything.
Everything is normal and functional. The men’s sperm count is good, and the fertility of the women is also good, but somehow, there’s no trigger. It doesn’t work.”
“So, what does, going 750 years earlier would bring you? You want to go back with a… mate?” asked Lynda, jokingly, not really convinced about the weird story.
“No. Since biologically, everything is working, it is the theory of Dr. Rugten that we miss something in our reproductive procedure. Our history records showed that in the 70’s, there was a lot of free love. I was sent with the expectation to find a mate, and to have a sexual relation with him, to see what is wrong.”
“Geesh… You talk about sex as if it’s a simple procedure, with no fun at all.”
“Well, there’s nothing fun about reproduction. It is a biological process involving the creation of…”
“Ho! Stop right there. You mean you have absolutely no fun in your future? No excitement?”
“Oh yes, we have excitement. We have a lot of simulations that trigger excitement…”
“Wait, wait. Let me get this straight. What do you do when you have sex?”
“We mate.”
“No courtships, no preliminaries?”
“What are courtships and preliminaries?”
“Do you dress sexy sometimes?”
“Dress sexy? What do you mean? All we wear is the standard bodysuit. It’s skin hugging, and so flexible, it’s like wearing nothing, but it protects against the harsh sun rays.”
Karen grabbed a Frederick’s of Hollywood catalog she had nearby and showed it to Lynda.
“This rings a bell?”
“Why all the different clothes? There’s no functionality in those, except for the bodysuits here, but why the plastic finish? And I must point out that, the way you’re forcing your body to move in these too small pants, are not along normal biologic lines.”
“Wow…” said Lynda. “Either you really come from the future and it has become a very dull place, or you’re a complete nut head. You’re telling me you don’t have fun at all with sex?”
“It’s no fun, it’s a biological reprod…”
“…Reproductive process, yes, you already said that. Maybe there’s a hidden camera somewhere, and I’m falling for the prank, but here we go. Get up and come with me. Seems that I have some things to teach you. What size do you wear?”
“Size? What do you mean?”
“What size is your bodysuit in your world?”
“We have no size. There’s only one kind of bodysuit.”
“You mean you all have the same shape and weight in the future?”
“No, of course not.” Said Karen with a small laugh “but the bodysuit is made of elastex and it has the capability of stretching in the order of 800% in all directions. It’s very comfort…”
“Yeah, right. Whatever.” Said Lynda as she browsed in her closet. She took a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and threw them on the bed.”
“Here. Put these on. They will probably be a little too large, but they will be better than your 70’s outfit.”
Karen undressed and started to put the jeans. Lynda then noticed that she was still in the room with the stranger.
“Gee, I’m sorry. Perhaps you should go to the bathroom for some privacy…”
“Privacy for what? I’m only undressing. A body is a body. It’s purely functional.”
“Wow.” Said Lynda. “Looks like a really dull time period.”
Karen didn’t answer. She pulled on the jeans. It was a old faded pair of Levi’s. They were somewhat snug fitting. Karen put the t-shirt on, then moved around in the bedroom.
“Not very practical. It does not allow freedom of movement. I should alter them a little.” She said, producing a metallic blue device. It was circular, about half an inch thick, and the size of a cigarette pack. She activated it and a glowing blue line about one inch high by 4 inches wide was projected on the jeans. Where it touched, Lynda could see the jeans expanding.
“What are you doing?”
“Making this strange fabric larger, so I could move freely.”
“Stop it. You’re ruining them. Set them back as they were.”
“But…okay, very well.”
The light beam switched from blue to green and the jeans shrunk. Lynda became very interested in the device.
“Can… Can I see that?”
“It’s a standard molecular structure re-arranger, or MSR. It can make any object more or les dense.”
“How does this molecular re-structural thingy works?” asked Lynda, suddenly starting to believe Karen was really from the future.
“It rearranges the molecular structure. When I make the pants wider, I also make them thinner. The device simply gets the molecules closer together or farther apart. It’s very practical.
“You bet it is. But it doesn’t affect you?”
“No, only non-biological matter.”
“Can I try it?”
“Sure. To un-shrink, you press here.” She said, handling the device.
“And to shrink?”
“Press here. But I can’t… oh my god. You’re making your pants even smaller? How can you…?”
Lynda was panting faster and faster, as she ran the device along the side seams of her jeans, making them tighter than she ever thought possible. She walked a few steps in her bedroom, her hands were quick to grab her crotch.
“Wow! That’s …”
“Too uncomfortable?”
“No!” said Lynda with a large smile, “But I think that YOU need to learn something. I won’t harm you, I promise, but don’t stop me.”
Lynda kneeled in front of Karen, and started to run the MSR along her legs, shrinking the jeans, getting them tighter and tighter. She nevertheless started easy, making them tight, but not too tight for a first time.
“This is getting more and more uncomfortable, Lynda” said Karen, softly.
“Relax Karen.” said Lynda as she ran the device down Karen’s right leg one more time before getting up. “Now walk to the kitchen and come back.”
“But it’s too tight, I can barely move my legs” said Karen as she took her first step. She walked to the kitchen and came back. To her dismay, Lynda did another tightening pass, and asked her to do the trip to the kitchen again.
“How can you like som… I think there’s something wrong.” She said on her way back. “I feel some kind of tingling on my crotch.”
“Good.” Said Lynda with an evil smile. “It’s normal. Go to the kitchen and back again.”
Karen proceeded, and was walking slowing.
“Keep walking fast.” Said Lynda.
“But… it feels strange, it feels…”
“Good? You like it?”
“Well, it’s disturbing, but… not annoying.” Said Karen, with almost a scary face.
“That’s the pleasure coming back to your brain. Keep walking.”
After about 15 minutes, she stopped, hands at her now wet crotch, letting out a long moan.
“Oh my lord! I think I should report to Dr. Rugten. I don’t know what you did, but it feel wrong. You may have damaged my reproductive system, and jeopardize my mission and…”
“Stop that! You’re simply having an orgasm!”
“An orgasm? An orgasm is when the egg is released. This is… disturbing, and unnatural.”
“You’re all fucked up in the future, aren’t you? You should read 20th century medicine books to learn about the functionalities of the human body. Do you hurt or are you pleased? Do you feel relieved? Satisfied?”
Karen used the MSR to un-tighten the jeans.
“This is bad. I hope Dr. Rugten will be able to fix any damage you did. I shouldn’t…”
Lynda took the MSR from Karen’s hand.
“If this is where the future is heading, I will do something about it.” She said, smacking hard Karen, who fell on the floor, unconscious. “Sorry, but I’m gonna save the future… or just yourself. I think I’m getting nuts myself.” She said as she grabbed the inert body to gently put it on the bed.
Half an hour later, Karen was coming back to her senses. She tried to move, but couldn’t. She was tied up, arms and legs spread to each corner of the bed. She looked panicked.
“Please, don’t hurt me. I’m only here to try to save my world…”
“Shut up, and just enjoy.”
Lynda had tightened Karen’s jeans until she was sure the seams were about to rip open, and she had stuffed a huge vibrator between her butt and the mattress. She turned the power switch on, and the vibrator started to hum.
“What are you doing? Stop that! Please, you’ll destroy my repr…. Oooooo… Lord… Please sss… sss… ooo that’s so good… No, that can’t be gooOOOOooddd.” Said Karen, her plea to get releases quickly changing, asking for more.
After half an hour, Karen’s pleas were merely long low pitch moans, and she was slowly squirming within the limits of her bonds. Lynda gently untied her. Slowly, Karen put her hands at her crotch, and started rubbing, gliding her hands on her lower belly, getting up to her waist, sliding to the hips and slowly gliding down along her thighs, moving her knees up slowly, increasing the pressure of the tight denim, pulling on the crotch seam. A few minutes later, Lynda switched the vibrator off and the humming stopped. Karen laid there, legs slightly apart, arms by her side, breathing slowly. A large smile could be seen on her face.
“So, was it that bad?” asked softly Lynda.
“I… I never felt anything like that. This is impossible to describe. Are you sure it’s okay? I mean, it’s not harmful?”
“Why should it be harmful? Pleasure is part of sex.”
“To us, it’s only a biological function. Reproduction is a normal process, and each couple has the mandate to generate 5 offspring to help repopulate the planet.”
“Mandate? Offspring? No wonder you can’t reproduce anymore. Sex is a good and pleasurable thing, and creating life is the purest and most beautiful thing in the universe. But it seems you put it at the same level as building a car.”
They engaged in a very philosophical discussion about life, death, birth and pleasure.
“I guess our archives are mainly about the political evolution of the Earth, rather than the evolution of the people. The function of pleasure is practically inexistent, because non-productive.”
Lynda laughed.
“You’ll learn that if you add pleasure to your life, the productivity will increase, but we could be discussing that for decades. How do you feel now?”
“Surprisingly relaxed.” Said Karen.
“It’s night time anyway. I don’t know if you sleep in the future, but we do here.” Said Lynda, yawning. “See you tomorrow morning.
Lynda took place on the couch, leaving the bed for Karen. During the night, she heard more moans coming from the bedroom. She laughed. “Well, she has 700 years of orgasms to catch up.
In the morning, they took a shower, then got their jeans on, adjusting their tightness to perfection with the MSR before going for a walk in the street.
Karen enjoyed looking at the others inhabitants, discovering the many ways of having pleasure, either by having a good meal, or by riding a bicycle, or roller-skating. And she enjoyed very much the gentle rubbing of her extremely tight jeans on her crotch. She got hooked very quickly on the tightness, and wanted more and more, but at one point, the seam showed signs of giving up, so she had to draw back a little, much to her disappointment.
They tried riding the bicycles, but they stopped within 500ft, as it was simply too much to handle. They had to walk. They were stopped numerous times, and were asked how they could put on jeans that tight, but they always said that is was something experimental, and could not discuss it. They walked back to Lynda’s apartments.
She prepared a nice dinner of pasta. Karen never tasted anything like that. All she had was the usual feeding pills. There was no time for preparing meals, and the pills were much more convenient… but for the taste of a real meal, this was completely different.
She didn’t eat much. She couldn’t, the jeans were simply too tight, but she enjoyed every bite of it, every chew.
“You’ll get used to eating less but more often. But then again, with your feeding pills, I don’t think it will be a problem.”
“No, I don’t think so, but I really wonder if this will fix our problem. I mean, it’s very pleasurable, and honestly, I don’t want to let go, but I wonder if this is the solution to our problem. I do get a lot of pleasure while wearing them, but as for the reproductive cycle, what will this do? I can’t have sexual intercourse with the tight jeans on.”
“Are you telling me you want to have sex with a men to… test it?”
“Well, that was my primary mission: having sexual intercourse with a male to study the procedures and rituals and compare it with our own.”
“Geesh, back to the science lab, aren’t we. Let me see what I can do.”
A few hours later, there was a nock on the door. Lynda opened and a handsome man, mid 20’s, strong built and very good looking entered.
“Karen, I present you Pete.”
“Hello, Karen.” Said Pete, shaking her hand. He felt so warm. Karen blushed. She never felt anything similar. She had met lots of men, but it was always cold. Why was he making her feel warm?
They sat and had a drink, talking of a few things, but Lynda and Karen were very careful not to mention the time travel and the experiment.
It was obvious that Pete was drawn by Karen. The way he was looking at her, talking to her, the slightly almost imperceptible gestures he made. Somehow, Karen’s brain was able to understand them, to hear the silent message.
At one point, Karen excused herself, saying that someone was waiting for her at some night club, and left, leaving Pete and Karen alone.
Karen felt all weird, as if she was floating or something like that. Slowly, gently, almost naturally, he invited her to follow him into the bedroom, where he began caressing her, removing her shirt, and then, getting on his knees, he slowly slid his hands along Karen’s tightly encased legs. He could feel how tight the denim was, and she could feel the slight pressure of her fingers, sending waves of tinglings throughout her body, making her shiver. He unbuttoned her jeans, and tried to get the zipper down but they were too tight.
“I don’t know how you get them on, they look incredible of you, but it would be better if you would take them off.” He said softly, while kissing her belly-button.
“Euh… yes, they’re very tight.” She said, realizing that she would have to use the MSR, but that she should not show it to him. Just close your eyes. She said.
Pete did, and heard a faint hum for a few seconds. He opened his eyes to see what was that sound, but Karen had disappeared. He turned around, to find her, just behind him, by the desk, slowly pulling the jeans down on the floor. He smiled and crawled back to her, helping her take her legs out of the tight denim. Karen had time to loosen them partially, just enough so she could get them off, but they were still tight. The seams were clearly imprinted on her body.
“Hummm. I like that.” Said Pete, rubbing the tip of his fingers along the sculpted skin. Then gently, almost naturally, they headed for the bed, where Pete continued with his caresses. For the first time, Karen knew the difference between having sexual intercourse and making love.
It was early morning when Lynda showed up at the apartment, but Pete was already gone, and Karen was already back in excruciatingly tight jeans.
“So, did you learn something?” she asked Karen, with a corner smile.
She answered with a smile.
“Oh yes.” She said “I did learn a lot, but I wonder if I’ll be able to demonstrate it to my people. It’s so simple, but yet, so complicated.”
“I thought about that.” Said Lynda, handing a package to Karen who opened it.
“It’s a book? Geesh, I heard about that form of knowledge transmission, but I never actually saw one.”
“It’s about the techniques of making love. You should bring it back with you.”
“Thank you. I’m sure it will be useful.” She said, looking at the book as if she was looking at a thousand years old relic. Come to think of it, to her, it was.
They spent the day walking around near the beach. Lynda invited her to try roller-skating. It was not easy, especially with her very tight jeans of which she wouldn’t let go. They had good fun, and really good fun at it.
They ate in a small restaurant, where Lynda made her taste the all-American hamburger, before they were back to the apartment.
“I think I should be going by now.” Said Karen once they were seating, sipping a cup of coffee.
“Why? What’s the rush?” asked Lynda.
“The longer I stay here, the more damage I can make to the future. You see, I can change something very imperceptibly, but in 700 years from now, it could make a complete difference.”
“I understand. How… how do you go back?”
“I must keep it a secret.” She said. Please, don’t follow me.”
“I promise.”
“And don’t discuss the fact that I was here from the future.”
“I promise.” Answered honestly Lynda.
Karen went to the bedroom and came out with a plastic grocery bag. She embraced Lynda, shedding a tear on her shoulder.
“I will always remember you.” She said.
“I will always remember you too.” Said Lynda, shedding a tear herself.
Karen went. Lynda could hear her heels clicking their way down the stairs, but she kept her promise. She didn’t follow. She sat there, feeling her incredibly tight jeans, and thinking that, once they’ll be off, she would never be able to put them on again, missing the MSR. She wandered around in the apartment. She tried to watch some TV, but couldn’t concentrate. She went to the bedroom, with the clear idea of having a last pleasure session with her tight jeans from the future.
There, on the bed, there was a note, written by Karen.
Hello Lynda. I want to thank you for all you did for me. Unfortunately for me, I’m unable to bring your jeans with me in the future. I must go back with what I came. So, it also means that I can’t bring your book with me. I can’t leave with anything that belongs to the past. I love the jeans so much that I decided to walk to the time position with them, then change in place. I’m leaving your belongings there. It’s in an empty warehouse, near the port. – Karen.
She continued with describing the location the best she could. Lynda jumped on her feet and ran to the street, took the bus downtown and finally to the designated warehouse. When she entered the deserted room at the far end of it, she had time to see an orange glow disappear. Then, on the floor, the grocery bag Karen had left with. Lynda approached. Her high heels were clicking hard on the dirty concrete floor, reverberating on the bare walls.
She took it. Inside was the heels, jeans, t-shirt and the book…. Along with a blue box. Karen went wide-eyed. She took it. It was the MSR! She couldn’t believe it. There was a note attached to it.
I shouldn’t but I do it anyway. For your help, I leave you the MSR. The first time you’ll use it, it will get your body signature. From that moment, it will only work when operated by yourself. Please, use it with great care, and never tell where you got it from. If anybody tries to tamper with it, it will disintegrate. Have a good tight life – Karen.
Karen took the MSR and immediately tested it on herself, tightening her already tight jeans. She smiled.
“Karen, you left me something for my time. I shall leave you something for your time.” Said Lynda, walking away.
Part II
The phone booth size cabin was illuminating with an orange glow. The shape of a woman dressed with a long dress appeared within the glow. As the shape became clearer and more defined, the glow quickly vanished.
Two technicians, wearing gray stretchy catsuits, rushed to the booth to open the door. The women looked at them with a large smile. The technicians moved to leave passage to an older man, short, almost vanished gray hairs and a medium length gray beard. He was walking in a hurry, his face showing excitement and at the same time, fear.
“Welcome back, Karen.” He said with a faint voice. “How was the trip?”
“Hello Doctor Rugten. It was way better than expected, although we missed the right time target. I ended up 15 years later than what was planned, but I do believe it’s a success nonetheless, Doctor.” Answered the woman with a large smile.
“Good. Very good. You must be exhausted tho, here, come take a seat.” He said, his shaking hand grabbing a nearby stool and offering it to the woman.
“Thank you Doctor. Actually, I’m rather fine, but I’m afraid that we have a lot of things to change, not just for sex, but also for our everyday routines, our everyday life.” She said, taking his hand. “I was shown things I could have never imagined. Our life is so… dull compared to theirs.”
“Oh, poor thing. They spoiled your brain already with their barbaric rituals. We were anticipating that. We’ll take care of that later.”
“No, I’m not spoiled at all, Doctor. I’m very fine actually. And to make a long story short, it’s the way they do things that makes them productive at reproducing. They call that romance, and it’s wonderful. I just wonder if I’ll be able to teach it the right way. Too bad I couldn’t take back the book Lynda offered me.
“You were offered a book? You made close contact? You were supposed to observe, not…”
Karen cut it short and told what happened back in 1985, her meeting with Lynda, the discovery of tight jeans, her relationship with a man.
“But you were supposed to observe.”
“Hands-on experience is way better.” Said Karen. “Anyways, what is done is done.”
“And the MSR, I hope you still have it.”
“Yes, of course, it’s right…. Oh darn! Where is it? It… it must have fallen off the pocket when I ran back to the warehouse.” She lied, but played the game, looking at Dr. Rugten with frightened eyes.
“Was it locked?” he asked, angrily.
“Yes it was.” She said, faking some relief.
“In that case, nobody would be able to use it.”
“Enough of that, if you don’t mind, Doctor. We need to try the theories while I have them hot in my memories. I need a fabric that is supple, yet non-stretchable to make a pair of pants, and high heel shoes.”
“You what? You really think that pieces of clothing will do something?”
“I did to me. Let’s try it.”
She spent the next few hours trying to make a pair of jeans, but the cut was never right. Yes, she had the MSR to make them tight, because the cut wasn’t right, the fit was wrong, and not as comfortable as the ones she had on her time travel.
“This is nonsense.” Said Dr Rugten, watching over her shoulder as she was designing another cut for the jeans. All the computer softwares were designed to cut according to stretch fabrics, and no one knew how to design something for anything else.
One of the technicians that was present when Karen came back, a young man in its early twenties, whispered something at the Doctor’s ear, and they both left, much to Karen’s relief. She punched a key and after a few seconds of humming, a lump of fabric appeared in a glass cube at her right. She took it. It was a pair of pants all right, but looked more like jodhpurs than jeans. With a sigh, she turned to face the computer screen again.
A few minutes later, Dr Rugten was back with Will Thomas, of archeology. She always found him attractive, but with her new way to look at men, she now definitely had a crush on him, as she felt all warm inside. She smiled at him. He answered with a forced embarrassed smile, not understanding what was going on.
“Karen, Will here has something to ask you.”
“You said the woman you met back in 1985 was named Lynda?”
“Yes. It was a common name by then.”
“Yes, that is not the point. Would you come with me, please?” he said.
Karen lost her smile. What was wrong? What had happened? Did she screw up the past? She followed him to the next building, the archeology division. There, he led her to a remote room, brightly lit. In the center of it, was resting a solid tube. It appeared to be made of concrete. It was about 1 foot in diameter by 2 feet long.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s something that we don’t know what to do with, but perhaps that it will ring a bell for you.” He said, inviting her to approach and look at an inscription engraved on the side on some metallic plate.
“This is a platinum plate.” Said Thomas “and if you look carefully at it, we can see the names Lynda and Karen. Can you decipher the rest of the text?”
Karen was intrigued. She had a closer look. She recognized it as the English language spoken around the same time period she went.
“Err… yes, it says: from Lynda to Karen. In hope this will help the future get back on is track – 2022” she read, taking a step back.
“What do you make of it?”
“It appears to be something that a friend Ì made while in 1985 left for me to be used now.” She said, perplexed. “What’s inside?”
“It’s hard to tell. We’ve tried to scan it, but the material appears too dense, but there’s definitely a cavity inside. We try to break it open, but it’s too hard. We tried with a laser, but we’re afraid to destroy it, and it’s content. Any idea? Did they have the technology to do something like that back then?”
Karen thought for a minute.
“Then, probably not, but with a push from our technology, it might be possible. Can I borrow a MSR?”
“Yes, of course.” He said, handing the metallic device.
Karen pointed it at the cylinder and pushed the unshrink button. Slowly, the cylinder grew. She had to use the MSR all over it so it would enlarge equally everywhere. After close to twenty minutes, she stopped. The cylinder had doubled in size. Karen then used a hammer and slammed the end of it. The concrete broke away, revealing a large cavity. Inside were numerous bags. They all appeared to have been vacuum sealed. One was containing a dozen shiny disks, about six inches in diameter. Another was containing obviously a tightly rolled up pair of blue jeans. Karen became almost hysteric. The third one was also containing some piece of clothing all rolled up. The last bag contained a pair of high heel platform shoes. She grabbed the three last bags and was about to walk away when she was stopped.
“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Thomas and Rugten
“Get dressed with these…”
“No you’re not. We will open the bags in a secure environment. Just in case. And as for you to walk away with them, if the readings are right, those are archeological artifacts, and should be treated that way.”
Disappointed, Karen handed back the bags. They went to a clean room, and the bags were carefully opened. The fabric was still totally intact, although a little dry. The acrylic and leather of the shoes were in very good condition. The other garment was the top of a catsuit. It was made of stretchy, shiny material, but not as stretchy as their elastex. The disk bags contained a sheet of titanium where instructions were engraved. Karen looked at it.
“How nice of her. They’re computer discs. She had put all the encyclopedias, and as many as history books on them that she could find. She’s giving us instructions to read them, and has even included two disks to try, that if we have a mishap, no critical information would be lost. They’re labeled A and B. The rest, 1 to 25 are the official recordings.”
She raised her eyes to look at Thomas and Rugten.
“She had left us their history. How nice of her. I think you’ll have work for a few weeks here.” She said, picking up the jeans and the heels. “Well, gotta go. I have work on my side to do.”
“You can’t bring that with you… you could damage them.”
“I’m not that stupid, Dr. Rugten. I will have them analyzed, patterned and replicated, that’s all. Don’t worry, I’ll bring them back intact in a few days for the exhibit. I promise.” She said with a large smile. Rugten almost could swear she was jolly jumping as she left the room.
The next day, Karen showed to work and surprised everybody. She was wearing a stretchy upper bodysuit, with long sleeves and high collar. It was stretchy, slightly shiny, and appeared very tight and a lot less stretchable compared to their usual elastex. It also appeared much thicker. She also had on a pair of pants, made of a thick fabric. The color was a faded blue. It was very tight and appeared not stretchy at all. It was so tight that she appeared to walk with difficulty. Either that or the fact that she was walking pretty much on her tiptoes, her heels kept raised in the air by pointy sticks. Even with all the apparent discomfort her clothes were giving her, she was smiling widely. Deep down, she was welcoming back the embrace of the tight denim, the rising height of the high heels, and the new feeling of the tight spandex.
To the look, it was exactly like their 20th century equivalent, but it was in fact much more than that. The denim was 100% synthetic, very flexible but non-stretchable, and pretty much indestructible. In fact, when Karen tightened the jeans the first time, she was able to go so tight that they hurt and she almost broke a hip, so she had to go back on the tightening. The spandex shirt, or the 37th century equivalent, was less stretchable, and even thicker. Oh, she could have made it like the original, which is what she did at first, but it was way more pleasant to have it stiffer and tighter.
As for the heel, they were made of hard as steel polymer, and the heel was higher than the original. She liked it better that way.
“Why are you wearing that?” asked Rugten. “Why wearing these clothes, and too small for your body?” he asked.
“That’s part of the things I learned on my trip, Dr. Rugten: Pleasure. And this gives me a lot of it. All women should wear those.” She said, spinning around to show herself from all angles.
“I don’t know what you did out there, but I doubt that you fulfilled your mission.”
“Oh, believe me, I did. Where are you decoding the computer discs?”
“Will succeeded late last night. He said that you’ll be quite interested in watching what is on the test disks.” He said. “Have we destroyed them while testing would not have been a great loss, but they were nonetheless very valuables.”
They headed for the archeology building. Karen made a lot of head turns. Some women, but many men were getting wide eyes at her.
“I don’t get it.” Said Rugten. “All the men that turned to look at you didn’t seem disgusted or disturbed, but rather… enjoying it. Any idea?”
“Lynda told me something about posture change created by the high heels, and body movements forced by the tight jeans. In any case, I know that I‘m getting hot.” She said with a wink, and sending him a kiss. Rugten appeared offended.
Her heels were clicking hard on the tiled floor of the archeology building. Thomas heard the noise coming closer and closer, not knowing what it was, until Karen passed the door. He became wide eyed, and let his pen drop. He has never seen anything like that. The body was molded to perfection. The breasts appeared enhanced. Her head, held erect by the high collar, enhanced her posture. She was pushing her butt backward and her breasts forward. The wiggling of her buns as she walked was like a massage for his brain. A hard-on could clearly be seen under his elastex bodysuit.
“Wow… Err, I mean, what a strange way of dressing up.” He said, trying to get his composure back, and hide his hard-on.
“Hi Will.” Said Karen who had noticed everything. “What’s up?” she said, with a wink, signaling him that she had seen the hard-on. Thompson blushed.
“C… Come see this.” He said, pointing to his computer screen. “I was able to recreate the decoders they used back then. It’s weird to use and way too complicated for what it does, they don’t even use 3D imaging, but here it goes:
“The first two disks contain mainly images and video, addressed to you, Karen. The disk labeled B is an exact copy of the disk A. As for the rest, there’s pictures, videos, and copies of documents on various historic events, up to their year 2020. It will take months if not years to decode, translate and understand all that is included in these disks.”
“Wow!” exclaimed Karen. “She really did it. Thanks Lynda” she said in 20th century English. Rutgen left an eyebrow.
“I’ll leave you to decode that. I think Karen will be of great help, since she already knows the language.” Said Rugten, leaving the room. Will and Karen were now alone.
“Say Will, I… hum… noticed how you looked at me when I came in. You like it?” she said, turning around, rubbing her hands from her breasts down to her thighs in a sexually inviting manner.
“It’s… disturbing, I must say, and I don’t know why, but I felt strange waves go through my body.”
“Very good.” Said Karen with a large smile as she got closer to him. She took his hand and slapped it on her tight butt.
“Here, take a hold of that while we search the database…” she said, while typing a few English words. “There, this is it. You should read it.” She said pointing at a document entitled:101 ways to make love.
“I would, but I don’t know this language.” He said.
“Sorry, that’s right. Give me an hour or so, and it will be done.” She said, taking a seat, which proved easier said than done. Sitting was definitely a challenge, and her tightly encased arms impaired their mobility. But somehow, she found it exciting.
An hour later, the computer had enough translation information to completely translate, not only the designated document, but also the rest of the database.
“There. The book should be translated in about 10 minutes, and the rest of the database within two hours. What will be left is to understand the meaning of all that, compared to what we know or rather what we believe history was. In the meantime Will, read the book. I believe there should be some videos associated with it. Have a look. We’ll talk about all that later.” She said from a sultry voice Thompson had never heard, with a warm smile, almost sexy, whatever that meant.
The first disks to be translated were the testing ones. As Will was reading the book, Karen was eager to know what message Lynda had left her.
Part III
Will was able to make a reader for the videos and documents that had been made some 800 years earlier and waiting to be seen by Karen at the right time. Will had been able to not only decode it, but to enhance it, giving it a slight 3D perspective. It was not yet translated, but Karen didn’t need it. She could very well understand 20th century English.
On the screen appeared a relatively old lady, in her early 60’s. Karen smiled. She recognized Lynda, although she was 40 years older than when she met her. She was smiling, but it didn’t seem genuine.
“Hello. This video is intended to be looked at by future generations. My goal is for it to be discovered and be seen by a wonderful woman I met many years ago by the name of Karen. I don’t know who she is exactly, but she told me she had come from the future.
It’s been a wonderful time since I met you. I never enjoyed so much wearing my tight jeans, tighter than ever possible, thanks for your MSR device.” She said, showing the metallic box. “I’ve put all the knowledge I could get into computer disks. I’m sure scientists in the future will be able to decode them. I hope they will be useful in bringing back fertility to humanity.
I would like to present to you my husband, Pete that you probably recognize, and my daughter, Karen, who is a tight jeans wearer too. They will have the mission of putting the time capsule somewhere where it would resist the 800 years ahead of it. If you see this, it means that you discovered how it was made. The shrinking of the time capsule will be the last time the MSR would be used. You see, I’m currently dying of cancer, and should be gone within a few weeks. I asked to be buried with the device, and of course tight jeans.
You bring me great pleasure by having confidence in me, and to repay you, I’m offering you this small tribute to history. I sincerely hope it will help you get back on track.
I’ve missed you since the day you were gone. Goodbye and good luck.”
The image zoomed backward, showing Karen, in an hospital bed, surrounded on her left by Pete, and on her right by her daughter Karen. Then the image faded to black.
Karen shed a tear. Will was looking at the video from over her shoulder. Although he didn’t understand what the woman had said, it understood the profound emotional values of the message.
“That’s the woman you met back there?” he asked softly.
“Yes. That’s Lynda.” She said, wiping a tear. “She was dying of cancer. Funny to think that she helped me save our world, the planet, but I couldn’t send her the pill to cure something as simple as cancer.” She said, sobbing. “I wish I could do something.”
“We can’t alter the past, you know that.”
Karen had a spark in her eyes.
“No, but we can alter the present.”
Will was confused.
“Simple. What comes back in time has to come forward. That’s why I couldn’t bring the book with me, nor the clothes. I had to return the way I went in. It’s the same thing if we go forward in time.”
“Yes, but they don’t have a time machine and going forward in time was never achieved.”
“I know that, but if we bring her forward in time, here.”
“That has never been done, and for that we need precise coordinates and time period. That’s impossible to do.”
“I do have the precise time period as the date is printed on the lower right screen of the video, even the time is there. As for the place, it’s in the Los Angeles Memorial Hospital. It’s written on a plate on the bed. For the coordinates, Karen has the MSR with her. We can lock on that. We’ll even have her body signature with it, since I programmed it with. We can do it, Will.”
“We will have to ask permission. The time machine was not designed to bring someone from the past. It had been made for one purpose, which was to send you to the past to study the reproductive process. That mission was done, and the time machine should be destroyed before someone with bad intentions got his hands on it.”
“Yes, but we owe her. She saved us…”
“So far, she hasn’t proved anything. What you suggest has to be proven.”
“I’ll ask Rugten.” She said, leaving coldly. Will looked at her go, wiggling her butt in her too tight jeans, trying to go faster than her stiff cocoon would allow. Somehow, his hard-on returned.
“Disturbing.” He said to himself while getting back to work.
Karen entered Rugten’s office and presented him her idea.
“It is out of the question, Karen. We can’t play with time. It’s too risky. Sending you had already been very risky…”
“Yes, but as far as we can tell, nothing has changed, although I met a woman and told her everything.”
“We don’t know that yet. If you changed the timeline, we all changed.” He said, getting more and more disturbed at looking at that gorgeous woman, pacing back and forth in front of him, in her extremely tight clothes. The way her body was hugged by the fabric, the moves she had to make, the way her entire body reacted even when she simply raise a hand, following the tug of the tight clothes, the je ne sais quoi about her posture, probably caused by her weird footwear forcing her to walk on her tiptoes, the clicking sound of the high heels. He was feeling things he never felt before.
“There’s also the theory,” she continued, “that what was done was done, that we can’t change the past. If we try and we succeed, it has already been done. If we try and we fail, it has also already been done.”
Rugten kept silent, thinking. It was a lot of what ifs, but not a single sure thing. How could he present something like that to the council to authorize the use of the time machine, and more, to do something that has never been done before? Where will it stop?
“No, Karen. The answer is no.”
It was firm and final. Karen knew she had no arguing possible. She turned around and left. Rugten was fixating the tight wiggling butt getting out of his office. He moved his own butt on his chair, getting more comfortable.
She would do it. Whatever it takes, she would do it, she would save Lynda, she thought to herself, clicking hard her way out of Rugten’s office. Her tight jeans made it difficult to walk fast, but what a blast. Once she closed Rugten’s office door, she leaned against the wall, panting. She was having an orgasm. She smiles, thanking Lynda.
She spent the next days and weeks going to supervisors and directors, asking permission to bring in Lynda. Although her outfit created a lot of reactions, the answer was always no. Although the thought of saving Lynda was still in her mind, it was fading away slowly. But she was remembering her every morning, as she put on her tight jeans, and tightening them with the MSR, beyond what Lynda would have imagined.
She was walking along the corridor, heading for the morning meeting where she would ask, again, to help Lynda. She was feeling the tight embrace of the overly tight jeans. She felt the fabric pinch her buns with every step, sending her small electric shock like sensations, not at all annoying. The rubbing on her crotch, resulting from her weird way of walking, twisting her hips with every step, were welcomed, and have created something close to an addiction.
As she approached the meeting room, she was hearing noise created by a lot of people talking at the same time, something unusual for a morning meeting, as much the many people than the loud talking.
As she entered the room, she was stunned.
“She’s here!” yelled someone, as the mixed talking turned cheers. Congratulations, hand shaking, slaps on the back of the shoulders were followed. Karen was all disoriented. What was going on? Who were those people? Why all the mayhem?
She noticed, with some pride, that many of the women present in the room, were wearing tight pants. Some were not tight enough for her own tastes, but some were extremely tight. Dr. Rugten took the stand, asking the many attendees to calm down.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the woman who made it all happen: Karen.” He said, extending her a hand, to help her go in front of the room.
She froze. She had no clue of what was going on. She estimated the room to be filled with at least 30 people. A room that was supposed to contain 15…
“Hi.” Said Karen, timidly, then looking at Rugten in confusion. “W… what’s going on?”
“What do you mean, what’s going on? You saved humanity. Haven’t you met Will this morning?”
“Will? This morning?” she said eyebrows high up. “No. I haven’t seen him since yesterday morning.”
At that moment, entered an out of breath Will.
“W… Where… have… you … been? I’ve been looking… for you since… morning. You didn’t sleep home last… night?”
“Yes, I was home. Are you sure you have the right address?” she asked laughing, knowing perfectly that Phil knew where she lived.
“Yeah, right. I was at your place by 6.”
“I wasn’t home at 6. I always run 5 miles before coming to work. I was out, running.”
“You don’t come back home to change?”
“Why? This is perfect for running” she said, waving at her tight jeans and sneakers like high heels boots.
“I’ll be damn.” Cut in Rugten. “So, you’re not aware of the news?”
“What news?”
“I must admit that I was skeptical that wearing tight jeans and high heels would produce any results, but we received a note yesterday evening, from the City’s General Hospital. They reported 11 confirmed pregnancies for the last 24 hours, and they expect to have about a dozen more by the end of the day. All used your tight clothes guidelines and … lovemaking techniques.”
Karen’s jaws dropped open. Once the shock passed, she smiled widely.
“So, Karen.” Said a man, standing up, Karen recognized as a journalist for the video news. “What are your first impressions?”
“Success.” She said after taking a few minutes to think about it. “Yes, that idea seemed crazy, but I was positively sure of the idea. And it seems that it worked.”
“When are you going to have a child of your own.” He asked.
“When I’ll have a lover.” She said, winking at Phil. He blushed.
The meeting continued with more questions. One woman asked how she discovered that tight jeans would help the future. Looking at the woman who was wearing the standard elastex suit, she said:
“Just try it. You’ll see what I mean, and then, if you can translate that into words, do it, because I can’t.”
Over an hour later, Karen was able to take a break. She collapsed in one of the soft sofas once the room was empty.
“Hell of a way to start a day.” She said to Phil, standing up behind her.
“The price of glory.” He answered, gently massaging her shoulders.
“Now I have what it takes.” She said with a smile hiding a plan.
She walked out of the Director’s Board Meeting room with a smile. She had won their approval. She had earned it. Well, Lynda earned it. She had the approval to bring her to the future, but her plan was risky. It had to be.
Two weeks later, it was all setup. She had used the time and date of her own time voyage as a reference and computed that she would get her within her last days of illness. She was standing at the console of the time machine, punching the keys, entering the last minute data.
If all was calculated right, it should work.
Karen put a piece of paper into the booth, now turned on its side and equipped with a stretcher, and came back to the console, pushing the final key. An orange glow enveloped the stretcher. Slowly, a body took shape, female body. Karen was staring at the body forming. She would have very quickly a clue if she had the right person. Yes. The legs appeared, covered with a light blue fabric, tightly encircling her legs.
She smiled as the body took shape and the orange glow disappeared. It was Lynda, but she had very little time. Whether in her own timeline or on this one, death was death.
She got her out of the booth and a team of medics took care of her, rushing her to the medical facility.
The news came one hour later: she was saved, and had about 60 more years ahead of her. Karen smiled and walked to the door. She had a friend to see.
As they watched her slowly slide away, Pete and Karen heard some strange noise, like static electricity discharging. Then Lynda’s body started to glow orange. They got up and walked away, fear in their eyes. Within less than a minute, the glow disappeared, along with Lynda’s body. The bed sheets softly fell on the mattress. In disbelief, Phil pulled on the bed sheets, revealing an empty mattress except for a piece of paper and a blue metallic box, like the one Lynda was wearing, but this one was wrapped in plastic.
With caution, Pete took the note, read it and smiled, before handing it to Karen, along with the blue metallic box. She took it and read it. Her face illuminated.
Lynda saved the future. But it will be saved as long as the past (you) do what she had planned you to do. We have the cure for her disease, and she’ll live many more years with us. We owe that to her. As a gift to you, we include another MSR, the device she used to tighten her jeans. This one is virgin, and is aimed for her daughter, Karen. When you’ll take it in your hand, it will unlock and record your body signature. You, and only you, will be able to use it. Do it as Lynda would have done it.
Best wishes to you and your future families.
Karen.
“And to think we always thought she was crazy when she talked about that visit from the future.” Said Karen.
“Yep.” Said Pete. “I guess now I will have to find a secure place to bury that concrete block she made. And to think I was about to dump it on a roadside first thing in the morning.”
© Pete / monsterp63, August 2004