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Screw You Blinovitch


Clara's life was in many ways divided into two now.

Clara herself was in many ways divided into two now.

There was Before The Doctor and After The Doctor.

Some part of her wanted to believe that she hadn't really changed that much since she had met that strange man in that wondrous blue police box. Some part of her desperately clung to the tiny details of her life as if they could somehow prove that she was still just Clara.

She still wore the same clothes she tried to tell herself.

She still smiled the same way she always had she insisted.

She still had the same sense of humour she desperately claimed.

Yet, it never worked. It wasn't even that she knew all those lies were just that. It wasn't even that she knew she had in a way become addicted to the thrill of the adventures or to the high of saving people or even simply to the wonder inherent in traveling across time and space inside a box that defied those very constructs. It was simply that things that had never occurred to her before, things that even putting aside their inherently fantastical nature were utterly mad, seemed like perfectly reasonable suggestions.

Things like traveling through time to meet herself.

Things like traveling through time to meet herself and then screw herself.

Things like traveling through time to meet herself and then screw herself silly. Several times over.

She didn't really have an excuse or reason to justify this decision. She was bored and she was horny. The idea had struck her just as she was reaching her climax. It wasn't that masturbation was unsatisfying, her slick fingers and shallow breathing aptly demonstrated to the contrary. It was just that you could only go so far on your own. There was of course, the option of another human being but that had so many complications that Clara just couldn't be bothered to deal with. Besides she couldn't deny that the idea intrigued her and although she was somewhat more reluctant to admit it, aroused her.

She knew from past experience that multiples of her could exist in close proximity with limited impact, at least within the TARDIS. Two of her time looped selves had actually shared a bed, supposedly. The details of that particular event were like sand through her fingers. She caught brief flickers of memory but they would never last too long. Even memories of the event as a whole were fuzzy and immaterial but they were, at least, there. The thought of two of herself sharing a bed, with this new idea swirling in her brain, was intoxicating. She wondered what, if anything, those Claras might have gotten up to. Some part of her knew it was unlikely that anything had actually happened but the mere possibility, however improbable, was a d**g unto itself. She shook her head and refocused on the task at hand.

The only real hiccup was finding a way to travel backwards or forwards in time to meet herself without the Doctor's knowledge. She doubted that he would approve of such an idea which limited her options dramatically. However, it didn't completely eliminate them. The TARDIS was a fantastical thing after all and when you'd spent enough time in it like she had, the doors of impossibility were permanently wedged open.

She pushed herself off her bed and quickly got dressed before slipping out into the corridor. She didn't even need to look where she was going. She had been spending so much time in the TARDIS these days that she knew the way she was going like the back of her hand.

She passed the swimming pool and the library.

She took a shortcut through the wardrobe and a detour through the theatre.

She passed by the console room and paused at the Doctor's voice.

“Clara. Just who I wanted to see” She took a step back and turned into the room. The Doctor wasn't even looking at her, his full attention focused on the TARDIS console. Clara wasn't surprised by this. She had gotten used to the way he seemed to have a sixth sense, especially within the TARDIS. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the console and at him.

“I'm kinda busy with something right now, Doctor.”

He spun on the spot, coat flapping wildly and hands raised. It was a pose that Clara was all too familiar with and as such had ceased to have any kind of impact on her at all. “Busy?” He said, incredulously.

She took a step forward onto the stairs.

“Yes, Doctor, busy. As in doing something else.” He spun around again and started to pace around the console platform. Clara remained where she was, watching him.

“That doesn't make any sense.” He turned to face her again, gesturing with his hands at her. “You can't be busy.” He paused and then pointed to himself. “I'm not busy.” Clara continued to watch in silence. “Unless, unless, unless I am busy. Just not now.” He looked directly at Clara now. “That has to be it. Right, Clara?” She shrugged.

“Even if it was, you know I couldn't tell you.” He spun again, in the same pose arms raised and coat flapping wildly around him.

“I knew it!” He moved over to her now and gripped her by the arms. He turned her around and started to push her toward the door. “Well, in that case, hurry along now. Wouldn't want to leave me waiting and all that.” He pushed her along and Clara didn't really fight it.

This was after all exactly what she had wanted. Although, it wouldn't hurt to play the part a little bit more. She braced herself against the floor and took advantage of the Doctor's momentary stumbling to wrench her arms free. She turned and backed up a few steps away from the Doctor.

“Okay, okay, I'm going. I can do it on my own, thank you very much.” The Doctor took a step back himself, his face plastered with mock shock. Or maybe it was genuine, Clara never could tell with him.

“Well, no need to shout. Just trying to help.” He turned and walked back up the stairs to the TARDIS console. Clara turned and walked out, smiling contentedly to herself. The last thing she heard was a beeping noise and the frustrated sounds of the Doctor talking to the TARDIS.

She navigated through the tennis court and around one of the kitchens.

She slipped past the laboratory and through the art gallery.

She finally stopped just outside the door to what she believed was a drawing room. She had stumbled into it one day when she was trying to find her way from bedroom to bathroom. In most cases that would be a fairly straightforward trip but in the constantly changing landscape of the TARDIS, it was a herculean feat at times. She hadn't asked the Doctor about it. The room, that was. Not finding her way from her bedroom to her bathroom.

It wasn't that she didn't think the Doctor knew about the room, which was certainly possible. The TARDIS could've easily created the room on its own or he could've forgotten all about the room in question. In this case however, she was fairly certain that the Doctor had deliberately created the room and that he was not likely to ever forget it. This was largely because in many ways it was more than a drawing room. It was part trophy room and part museum. It also conveyed the sense of a mausoleum.

It wasn't the room itself that gave that sense. It was all rich wood panelling and plush carpets. A fireplace was set against one wall and seemed to be perpetually roaring with flames. Several armchairs flanked it and most of the walls were covered with shelves. Many of those shelves were filled with all manner of different books and Clara had tried to read some of them before but she had struggled to understand them. Some had failed to translate at all but many had just been written in such a confusing and unusual way that she struggled to follow them or make sense of what they were saying. The other shelves were filled with all manner of different things.

A multi-coloured scarf so long that it d****d off the edge of the shelf it sat on even though it was piled as high as it could go.

A rather sharp and rough looking knife alongside some strange, obviously alien, thorns.

The eye stalk of a Dalek and the rusted head of a Cyberman.

What looked like a pen alongside what looked like a sonic screwdriver.

Aside from those things and many more oddities that filled the room, it looked like any other drawing room. Or at least, like what Clara imagined a drawing room should look like. It was those things however, that in many ways contributed to the mausoleum feeling. The entire room felt private and sacred and she always felt like a little girl sneaking into her father's study when she went into the room. Which was part of the reason she had never told the Doctor that she had found it or had been inside it. She shook her head and pushed the door open.

The first thing she noticed when she stepped inside was that she had forgotten the clocks. There were so many clocks. She stared at them for a while, her eyes flickering from one to the next before she finally remembered why she had come here. She started to search the shelves, her eyes occasionally straying back to the clocks and to the rest of the room.

Several strange looking staves leaned against the wall, one of which she recognized as Gallifreyan but the other she couldn't quite place.

A recorder sat on a shelf, quite close to that scarf she had recalled before.

A fob watch and rather old and battered journal rested on another shelf.

A portrait of somebody who Clara assumed from the uniform to be the Brigadier gazed out on the room.

She finally found what she was after. It was a fairly unassuming device that looked like a wrist mounted phone of some kind. If she hadn't had past experience in using them, she would never have recognized it as a vortex manipulator. She picked it up and walked out of the room. Once she was out in the corridor again, she strapped it onto her wrist.

She debated sneaking out of the TARDIS to use it. After all, it couldn't exactly be safe to time travel in a time machine, if it was even possible. But trying to get it past the Doctor would have been a pain in the ass she really didn't need right now. She'd just have to take the risk. That left only one question to answer; when to visit herself?

The future was a promising option. After all, future her would know exactly what to expect which was a tantalizing prospect. However, there was a significant complication to that idea. She had no idea where she might be or what she might be doing at any given moment. She could easily travel to an empty TARDIS or right in front of the Doctor. Or even worse, into a room that no longer existed which was an unpleasant notion. Traveling back to the past was the obvious answer but that left one troubling question.

If she had travelled back in time and screwed herself silly, then why didn't she remember being screwed silly by a future version of herself?

She pondered that as she moved carefully back through the TARDIS. This time around though, she deliberately took a slightly more circuitous route in order to avoid the console room. Her mind kept coming back to one important detail, her memory of that incident with the TARDIS. Or perhaps more accurately, her lack of memory of that incident with the TARDIS. The broad strokes of that event were there, she could remember that it happened. The details of it, like what she was wearing or what a****l the TARDIS had created in the bathroom were less easily recalled. That was before taking into consideration how difficult it was for her to remember anything at all pertaining to the bed sharing part of that equation.

It was distinctly possible she reasoned, that contact with future or past incarnations of yourself impacted your memory somewhat. Losing your memory did seem to be a small consequence for two versions of a person coming into contact but she figured that the TARDIS probably reduced the risk somehow. That was kind of beyond her wheelhouse but at this point, she had quite successfully convinced herself that traveling back in time to screw herself was safe and wouldn't cause time itself to implode.

Probably.

She finally reached her room and decided that the easiest way to do this was travel back in time around an hour, shortly before she'd had the idea in the first place. She stepped inside and remembering vaguely where she had been before, she settled into a plush armchair off to the side. After she had gotten comfortable, she fiddled with the controls and a few moments later, she was an hour earlier. Not only that, she was getting quite the show.

She, or rather her past self, was lying back on the bed. Past Clara was facing her but hadn't yet noticed her future self, owing in large part to the fact that she was presently somewhat preoccupied. It didn't hurt that her eyes were closed. Clara had seen herself naked before obviously but this was entirely different. It was one thing to see yourself in a mirror or a photograph or through your own eyes. It was something else to see yourself from the outside as it were. Particularly when the self you were seeing was breathing heavily with a hand between her legs.

Future Clara's hand was sliding into her pants before she could even realize what she was doing. It didn't take long before she had started to mirror her past self, albeit with her clothes still intact. Both Clara's moaned and groaned together as their fingers twitched and writhed inside their cunts. Future Clara kept her gaze locked intently on her past self and somehow, an instant before it happened, she knew her past self would notice her. Which she did.

Past Clara was finally hitting her peak and as she did, she opened her eyes and tilted her head forward just the tiniest amount. The moment she saw herself, or rather her future self, all that momentum dropped away. The simple shock of seeing your future self masturbating to you masturbating would do that to anyone. She tried to think of something to say but for all the things she had seen travelling with the Doctor this was both utterly new and utterly unexpected. She was frozen, mouth wide and hand still inside her cunt.

Future Clara for her part remained silent. Mostly because she was beginning to remember this encounter and she was fairly certain that she didn't say anything yet. Partly because she was so close herself that words were hard to get out.

“What the bloody hell?' Past Clara finally managed to get out. Future Clara raised a slightly unsteady hand as she leaned back in the chair and sharply exhaled. She remained like that for a moment as she got her breath back. Finally, she sat up, withdrawing her hand from her pants and placing both of them back onto the armrests of the chair.

“First of all, I'm not the TARDIS. Though, I think you worked that one out already.” Future Clara began. She was guided by the vague recollections of this event she was starting to experience. They weren't very clear but they were enough to push her towards particular words and phrases. “I'm not a hallucination and I'm not a dream. I don't think we've ever had this particular dream before but we might after this.” Past Clara withdrew her hand from her cunt and sat up. She was already piecing it all together.

“You're me. From somewhere else or somewhen else.”

Future Clara laughed. “And we have a winner. From the future to be precise.”

Past Clara's brow furrowed in thought and future Clara had to admit that she looked pretty adorable like that.

“Isn't this dangerous? The two of us meeting like this.”

Future Clara shrugged the tiniest amount, “A little bit. I think. This is new to me, to be perfectly honest.”

Past Clara lapsed back a couple of minutes, minus the hand in between her legs.

“You mean, you don't know? You risked reality itself to, what, be a voyeur?”

Future Clara laughed again. She couldn't help it. The entire situation was hilarious. From the shock and horror of her past self at what she would soon be doing herself to the simple fact that she was here now to fuck herself, or rather her past self, senseless, the entire thing was ridiculous.

“This isn't funny.” Future Clara forced herself to stop laughing. Or she tried to.

“It is a little bit. At least from my side.” Past Clara stared at her future self. It was a bit to take in that her future self seemed so cavalier about causing irrevocable damage to time and space.

“No. It. Is. Not.” Future Clara was undeterred by this. She was after all still Clara and she knew every trick that she had in her arsenal. “Stop laughing. This is serious.” Past Clara pushed herself off the bed and stepped toward her future self. Her brows had furrowed further than future Clara thought her brows could furrow. She rose out of her chair, finally silent. For a long moment, the two Clara's simply stood there staring at each other.

“Alright. Maybe from your perspective this isn't funny but would you feel better if I told you that time is still quite intact for me?” Past Clara's brows furrowed slightly less. “Not to mention, we have interacted with different versions of ourselves before.” The brows continued to de-furrow. “And no, I didn't travel back here to be a voyeur.” The brows slightly re-furrowed. “I travelled back here to fuck you.” The brows spontaneously ceased anything resembling furrowing. Past Clara's mouth began its best impersonation of a fish and future Clara couldn't stop one last quick chuckle escaping her own. They both jumped back a minute or so again as the silence thickened and their eyes kept steady with the others.

“Yes.” Past Clara mumbled eventually.

Future Clara didn't waste any time. She'd waited long enough and by now, she was ravenous. She stepped forward and pressed her lips to those of her past self. Past Clara kissed back, wrapping an arm around the neck of her future self. Future Clara took another step toward her past self and past Clara stumbled backwards. She hit the bed and fell backwards, breaking the kiss in the process. She looked up at her future self and it was only now that she realised that she was quite naked. She tried to remember why she was naked in the first place but right now, with her future self looming over her that seemed an insignificant detail.

“We showered just before.” Future Clara answered. Past Clara was momentarily stunned. She was after all sure she hadn't asked that question out loud. “You didn't. Future you, remember?” Future Clara smirked and past Clara felt her heart skip a beat. She had never seen that expression before, especially not like this and she had to admit it was hot. She was hot. “We really are.” Past Clara couldn't help but chuckle. The situation was surreal. Incredible and amazing, certainly but nevertheless, surreal. She looked at her future self and licked her lips. “I think I'm gonna need a better look at myself. You know, to work out how hot we really are.” Future Clara smirked again and past Clara smirked right back.

Future Clara had to agree with her past self, they did look very hot like that. They were very hot.

“Yes, ma'am.” She mock saluted and both Clara's struggled not to burst into a fit of laughter.

Future Clara reached up and pulled her suit jacket back off her shoulders. She let her arms fall to her side and allowed gravity to do the rest. She managed to do all this in a singular smooth motion, despite never having done it before. She supposed seeing it helped, even if she hadn't remembered that until a couple of seconds ago. She waited for a moment or two before she began to start on the buttons of her shirt. If you had asked Clara back at the beginning of all this why she had chosen to wear this outfit, she wouldn't have been able to answer you.

Now though, she could answer that question easily. She had always wanted to see someone strip in a suit. Technically Danny had done it once but that was different in so many ways. Not in the least that Danny was male and not Clara. Not that the fantasy was particular to seeing herself strip in a suit. It just leaned more toward the female side of things. Thinking about it, she supposed Bonnie had kinda helped kick-start that fantasy, even if she hadn't exactly been wearing a suit per se. That one and the whole fucking herself one. Future Clara shook her head slightly and refocused herself on the task at hand.

She popped the first button loose, pausing again before her fingers began to slowly spider their way down her chest to the next one. Button after button, she repeated the same process until finally she ran out of buttons. At which point she jumped back in time the tiniest bit and in one swift movement, her shirt joined the jacket. Past Clara licked her lips again and she pushed herself back up off the bed. The whole time her future self had been stripping for her she had been holding back the growing hunger inside her but no dam could last forever against such a flood.

Her lips pressed to future Clara's lips and the two of them lapsed back in time once more, albeit with roles reversed, as future Clara collapsed into the armchair. Past Clara was not quite as restrained as her future self and she followed future Clara down onto the chair. Future Clara didn't know what to say or do. Her memories were coming back. They were coming back disjointed and fuzzy but they were coming back. Yet, she was at a loss for words, more than that, she was at a loss for thoughts.

Your naked past self straddling and kissing you would do that.

Your naked past self reaching around you to undo your bra would definitely do that.

Your naked past self slipping her tongue into your mouth as she fumbled with your bra would absolutely do that and so much more.

She was supposed to be the one in charge. This was her idea after all. Although, she supposed given who it was that was kissing her that wasn't entirely true. For now at least, she figured she could play the part of her past self. She leaned back and simply allowed herself to be kissed, mostly. Her tongue was not quite as content as the rest of her to just sit still. Not that it had long to enjoy exploring the other Clara's mouth. Past Clara finally managed to remove future Clara's bra and she broke off the kiss to admire herself properly.

“Would it be slightly egotistical to mention how hot we are again?” Past Clara said. Future Clara laughed.

“More egotistical than traveling through time to fuck yourself?” It was past Clara's turn to laugh and she threw a shrug in for good measure.

“Fair point. In that case, we are really hot.” She didn't wait for a reply. She leaned in closer, her lips pressing lightly to future Clara's neck. Future Clara could've said something else, could've kept the conversation going but that would distract that wondrous mouth from it's current purpose and she really didn't want that. The only thing that escaped her own mouth was a soft sigh. Past Clara's mouth began to work it's way down future Clara's neck. Not every kiss was as gentle as the first, some were hard and hungry, some were so gentle that they were barely a kiss and some most certainly were not kisses. Every so often she would lick a tiny stretch of exposed skin or she would gently bite it, as gently as it possible to bite anything. Her mouth was exploring every inch of future Clara's body and as it did that, her hands were busy with future Clara's pants.

She wasn't in a rush and yet, she was. There was a need growing in her now, a violent hungry desire that wanted only to leave her future self begging for more. She was holding it back right now, barely, but something that utterly desperately savagely ravenous could only be kept quiet so long. Her lips continued down and her hands continued to remove the belt holding up future Clara's pants.

Future Clara's hands began to develop a mind of their own and as one they reached around past Clara. One questing hand found past Clara's ass and began to test the give of it's tender flesh. The other began to spider along past Clara's back before finally burying itself in her slightly bedraggled hair. Past Clara did not stop and she did not slow down. If anything, she picked up the pace ever so slightly. Her lips found future Clara's breasts and her hands finally pulled the belt free, tossing it aside.

Just like she had for the rest of future Clara's body, past Clara took her time with the breasts. She circled them slowly, still alternating between every conceivable method of stimulation her mouth was capable of. With each loop she moved slightly higher and slightly higher and slightly higher until she found the nipple. A bite, a kiss, a lick, a suck. A kiss, a lick, a suck, a bite. A suck, a bite, a lick, a kiss. She began to develop a rhythm. The pattern was constantly changing but the notes remained the same. Future Clara's hands tightened on their respective handholds. Past Clara's lips continued their frantic chorus and her hands began to pull future Clara's pants down.

Future Clara could do nothing but tighten the grip of her hands and softly moan. Past Clara began to alternate breasts as she finally worked future Clara's pants free. Working together they managed, with some difficulty given that she was still sitting down, to pull them off future Clara's legs. The only thing left between past Clara's eager hands and future Clara's cunt was the thin and quite damp fabric of her panties. It didn't have a hope in hell and swiftly followed future Clara's pants.

Even as she struggled against the pleasure of past Clara's ministrations, future Clara couldn't help but mentally note that both Clara's were fully naked. Perhaps it was this thought that inspired her next action or perhaps it was another flash of memory. She didn't really know what it was but she couldn't help herself. The hand in past Clara's hair gave a firm tug and with more than a little reluctance, past Clara's lips left future Clara's breasts. The disappointment didn't last long as the hand, soon joined by it's compatriot, guided those hungry lips downwards and between future Clara's legs.

It was this small gesture of dominance, of control, which finally broke the dam. The hunger was surging forward and past Clara didn't dare try to fight it. Her tongue delved deep, writhing as if literally drowning in the surging flow of past Clara's unleashed desire. Future Clara moaned, biting her lip to keep herself from being too loud. The Doctor was still lurking somewhere and she really didn't want him stumbling upon her now. Her thighs closed ever so slightly and both her hands tightened their grip on past Clara's hair as they pushed past Clara's head down just the slightest bit more.

She could feel her pleasure rising, feel the warmth spreading through her body. It was as if the raw unbridled need of her past self had sparked a fire inside her and she knew that it wouldn't take long before she was consumed in the blazing heat. Her bare toes curled on the soft carpet and her fingers tensed. She wanted it to last but her pleasure seemed to have a mind of it's own. She leaned back in the chair, still biting her lip, as she groaned in release. Past Clara kept going even as future Clara's hands loosened their grip. The flames surged through future Clara's body again and again but past Clara showed no signs of stopping.

“Oh fuck.” Future Clara murmured. She couldn't be sure if she had shouted or whispered the words. Her sense of anything outside the undulating waves of pleasure that were consuming her every nerve had been diminished so greatly. It was like she was floating in a thick fog.

Whether she had screamed the words or whether she had mumbled them, past Clara had definitely heard them because the instant the words had passed future Clara's lips, her tongue slowed its crazed motions. A moment or two later and her head rose from between future Clara's legs. Future Clara could barely muster the strength in her arms to stop past Clara, not that she really wanted to. Past Clara took a step or two backwards, gazing intently at her future self. Part of her was seriously contemplating asking for the favour to be returned but it was hard to find the words. She could barely think. It was almost as if she had been the one who had just been wracked with orgasms, which she supposed, was technically true. She took another few steps backwards and stumbled onto the bed. Without even realizing she was doing it, her hand slipped between her legs and her fingers began those familiar motions from before this all began. Her thoughts were still muddled and slightly disorganized.

Your naked future self sitting and panting in an armchair would do that.

Your naked future self sitting and panting in an armchair, slick with sweat and bodily fluids would definitely do that.

Your naked future self sitting and panting in armchair, slick with sweat and bodily fluids, much of which belonged to you would definitely do that and so much more.

Her hand moved faster between her legs and she could feel her own orgasm starting to grow. She'd let herself have this one and then she'd make her future self finish what they'd started. It was as she felt herself nearing her peak that she saw it but it was too late for her to do much to stop it. Her future self had finally found the strength to rise from the chair and while past Clara was distracted, had found the vortex manipulator.

“No.” She forced out, but it ended up becoming more of a vague moan. Future Clara smirked back at her.

“Don't worry, we'll be seeing each other again soon enough.” The memories were starting to click together but she knew that the moment she returned to her time, they would fade into an incoherent jumble again. Possibly worse given she had done a lot more than chat to herself this time. “See you soon.” She let out a soft chuckle and waved goodbye, fading away as her past self let out a low moan.

Clara's moan dragged onward as she slumped backwards onto the bed. Her entire body tensed and released over and over as her orgasm surged through her at long last. It seemed stronger than usual this time, though she couldn't work out why. She let out a shaky breath and as she did, a crazy thought seized her. She didn't know where it had come from or why but now that it was here she couldn't shake it and if she was being absolutely honest with herself, she didn't want to. She could feel the warmth inside her at the thought and even though she was alone, could feel the slightest blush creep into her cheeks.

She shook her head and with new-found resolution pushed herself off the bed and started to hunt for clothes.