Serafina went from asleep to awake like a light turning on. One moment, she was dreaming; the next, her eyes were open and she was staring at the ceiling. It had always been this way, for as long as she could remember: greeting each day like a new surprise, with her arms and legs itching to get up and move.
It had taken a long time, after she hit that teenage height growth, for her to train herself not to wake up with a sitting motion. Many were the mornings that her brother Pyotr had been awoken by the thump of Sera’s skull hitting the ceiling and her little cry of shocked pain. She had eventually learned to suppress the initial spring to action, and this morning her eyes were the only part of her that moved for the first full minute.
The sun was up, and birds were chirping. That meant it was well into the morning. Considering the day in her head, she found she had no obligations beyond spending a little time with her family, and that only really had to happen around mealtimes; any longer than that and her mother would doubtless put her to work with some mundane chore. Saturdays were for Adventures, not chores.
She could hear Pyotr’s slow, peaceful breaths coming from the bunk below. Sera smiled, happy to know that he had returned during the night. He had been very quiet on the way out of their room before, but Sera’s ears were much better than she liked to tell anyone.
In fact, Serafina had a lot of little secrets about herself. Pyotr knew most of them. He knew that she could speak perfect, unaccented English, but preferred not to. He knew that she had a stash of candy and beefcake magazines hidden in a ceiling panel above the bed. He even knew about her secret crush on her best friend, a girl who was so straight that if Sera ever revealed that she was attracted to her the friendship would almost surely be killed by the awkwardness. It was difficult hiding things from your twin brother, so Sera didn’t bother. She just diluted the really good secrets with a thousand meaningless ones.
She rolled off the bunk, shooting an arm out and catching a slat underneath it to swing herself down and beneath. Her knees took most of the force of landing, hitting the bed on either side of her brother’s sleeping form, but enough of the fall was broken by his hips that Pyotr woke up immediately.
“Sera, what the fuck,” he groaned, putting an arm over his eyes. “What time is it?”
“It is morning!” She quipped, thickening her accent enough to pronounce it “mornink.” “Time to get up and face a breakfast with our family.”
“I knew there was a reason that I moved out to go to school,” Pyotr complained. “Go and eat, I will be there soon.”
Something wasn’t quite right. Pyotr was crankier than usual this morning. She wriggled a little and felt pretty clearly through the sheets and his clothing that he was hard, a sure sign that his bladder was full. And the groan he made sounded almost like he was sick. A wide grin spread across her face.
“You’re hungover!” she exclaimed.
Pyotr groaned again, rubbing his temples with his eyes closed. “Could you say it a little louder? I think I still have some feeling left in my head. And get off of me.”
Serafina smirked down at her twin brother. “Nine months we cuddled up and now you are wanting me off your lap. Some gratitude this is.”
“Gratitude for what?”
“For not telling anyone that you snuck out in the middle of the night to get, how you say, smashed.”
“‘How you say’? You know how things are said. You were straight A’s in English.”
“It is part of our culture! Embrace who you are, brother.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I get that a lot.”
“Anyway,” Pyotr said dryly, “you won’t be ‘tellink’ anyone anything this morning.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“Because if you do, dear sister, I would have to tell them about how excited sitting on my lap has you. Or is it cold in here?”
Sera looked curiously at her brother. “I’m not-”
The statement was interrupted by a tingling blast up her spine. She gasped and pulled an arm across her nipples, which were suddenly throbbing and pressing hard against the thin fabric of her nightshirt. Her hips ground down a little, and she had to actively stop herself from dry-humping her brother.
Pyotr chuckled. “What is the matter, sister? Cat got your tongue?”
“How did you-?”
“I did nothing. You saw me. Perhaps you just are in need of a boyfriend.”
“Pah!” Serafina complained, sliding back to sit on Pyotr’s ankles and pouting. “I blame you. I’m so awesome that even my own brother can’t keep it down.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Pyotr replied, pulling his feet up and freeing himself. “I am going to take a shower before breakfast. Try to contain yourself.”
Sera watched as Pyotr hefted off the bunk and started toward the bathroom. From the swagger in his step, he actually looked to still be a little drunk. She started to say something witty about it, but only got as far as the first syllable before she found herself suddenly laying on the bed, trying hard to stifle a moan as an unexpected orgasm steamrolled her senses. Her hands were under her clothing, one groping her breast while the other rubbed between her legs, although she definitely didn’t remember putting them there. She heard the bathroom door close just as she was shakily sitting up again, cutting her off from whatever it was she was about to say.
-*-*-
Pyotr laid his back on the door, sliding down until he was sitting on the cool tile of the bathroom floor. He clenched both hands tight, trying to keep from laughing loud enough to be heard.
Serafina was perhaps his favorite person in the world. He would never do a thing to hurt her. But playing a joke on her was another matter entirely. She had long annoyed him with her perky morning attitude, and making her lose control had been a sweet revenge.
And she was beautiful, he thought, one hand sliding down to idly rub the bulge in the front of his shorts. It was always good to start your day by looking at the body of a beautiful woman. Even if he had no intention of doing anything with her, certainly nothing like when he had punished and rewarded Anna, it was still nice to touch and feel and enjoy her a little. A truly victimless crime.
-*-*-
“Great pancakes, mother,” Pyotr said, cutting another wedge off one of the perfectly-round stack of syrup and happiness. “Just like when we were little.”
“Yeah,” Serafina agreed. “Really good.”
Sera was a little subdued since Pyotr’s little prank. She seemed to be waiting to see if it would happen again. Pyotr decided to leave her alone; it would be a shame to upset her more than he needed to.
Annushka, on the other hand, was being a bit too nice. “More syrup, brother?” she asked, offering him the bottle.
“No, it is more than enough,” he replied.
“Sure, okay. Hey, do you have time to help me with some more homework later? I think I really got the stuff you showed me about physi- uh, about thermodynamics.
Pyotr chuckled. “Perhaps later. I need to go on a walk this morning.”
Anna’s face fell, but she nodded. “Later, then,” she agreed.
Pyotr’s walks were well known to his family. It was how he got his best ideas: walking without direction, letting his mind wander where it would. And despite how happy and relaxed he felt among his family, Pyotr definitely still had much to think about.
“Morning,” Zarya said, walking into the dining room and yawning. “Do I smell pancakes?”
“Of course, dear,” their mother said, putting a plate on the table for her.
Zarya smiled her thanks down at the older woman and sat. Most things for her involved looking down; Zarya was considerably taller than anyone else in the family. She wore her dark blonde hair short, almost military in style, and generally wore light tees or tanks to show off her hard-earned muscular physique. This morning, she was wearing a comically fuzzy pink bathrobe, cinched tight at the waist but straining enough to cover her shoulders that Pyotr could see a large part of her black sports bra. It was a functional garment, covering almost up to her collarbones. “Cleavage” was not a thing that Zarya had ever desired for herself.
Many people wondered how she could maintain that kind of body after her third child. Pyotr’s theory was that she was some sort of genetic anomaly, and only slept once every month. Serafina believed that she had eaten her young, and replaced them with robots or actors.
Pyotr stopped time and walked around the table to her. “Pardon me, sister,” he said, lifting her out of her chair, “but there are certain things I have long wondered.”
Repositioning her to stand next to the table, Pyotr untied her robe and slid it off her shoulders.
He’d of course seen her in workout or swim gear before. Her shape was nothing new. Still, it was quite the contrast to compare touching the shoulder and arm of a body like Zarya’s to Anna or one of the girls in the bar the night before.
Pyotr thought back to that night, remembering the way Leah’s hips had felt in his hands as he thrust into her, and how tight she’d gripped his cock when Jeremy woke her up in the middle of their encounter. The hard-on he’d been carrying around all morning pulsed in his pants, making him reach down to reposition it.
He pushed the robe aside, revealing the rest of Zarya’s body. Her simple white panties were stretched tight over her well-defined hips and ass. Sitting as she’d been, most of her body was relaxed, and she still had an impressively flat stomach. And her legs were somehow in a mystical zone between shapely and muscular that achieved the best of both without seeming too much of either.
Before he could even register the idea, Pyotr found himself kneeling down to pull off Zarya’s panties. He moved them almost without touching her legs at all, then stepped back to admire her.
Zarya had shaved only where a bikini would not cover her. Her panties had hid a soft brown patch of fur that Pyotr couldn’t help but run his fingers over. Her ass looked like it had come from a marble statue, and in Pyotr’s palm it felt warm and firm.
The part of him that intellectually knew that all of this was wrong was getting smaller and quieter. With the exception of Sera’s earlier shock, none of his sisters had yet suffered in any meaningful way for his pranks and curiosity. In fact, Anna’s attitude had vastly improved. And Zarya was always so very tense, complaining of being tired or sore. Pyotr slowly rubbed her long, powerful thighs, pressing in to leave shallow trenches in the soft layer of skin over her muscles. He idly wondered if extratemporal massage was a science worth pursuing.
He had never found Zarya’s body type particularly exciting, preferring girls who were less capable of cracking him in two, but nonetheless she was quite lovely to behold. He wondered if giving birth had truly made her less pleasurable to a man, as teen boys seemed to believe, but decided not to experiment with her, not wanting to make a scene at the breakfast table.
Still, the throbbing in his pants was something Pyotr couldn’t ignore. He had been dreaming of something very exciting when Serafina woke him up, although he didn’t remember what; all he could recall was pale skin and pink nipples. He had been able to laugh off her accusations about his morning excitement, but the truth was that such things were caused by a swollen bladder, and Pyotr had gone to bed thirsty after relieving himself of such pressures. What he was feeling now what entirely due to his own libido.
He considered Zarya’s only remaining garment, the black sports bra. It was stretched tight over her chest, tight enough that he could see two little bumps where her nipples strained against the thick fabric. He softly rubbed a fingertip across one, then gave the bottom of the bra a little tug upward.
The elastic was pulled tight against his sister’s skin, and sliding it up over her breasts proved impossible. Carefully, Pyotr hooked his fingers into the band and pulled it outward, stretching the elastic and creating a gap under Zarya’s breasts. Once the bra was flaring out far enough, he pulled the bottom of it up to her collarbones.
Her breasts were pressed tight against her body, but with some gently outward strokes, Pyotr moved them into a more natural shape. They were surprisingly pliant and larger than he expected; it occurred to him that Zarya pretty much bound them down all the time. Her nipples were dark pink fountains, still perky despite having spent so many recent years in service to the demands of infants. Pyotr ran a finger around one and wondered if there was any way for a nipple not to be exciting.
Pyotr glanced back at the table, then smiled. Speaking of exciting breasts, Annushka had been entirely less bitchy this morning. Perhaps she deserved some sort of reward for such good behavior.
More importantly, he deserved some sort of reward himself for so often walking around with his cock tucked in his pant leg while surrounded by such beautiful females. This morning was no exception.
Of course, first he had to restore Zarya to her seat. He slid her panties up and over her hips, then tugged the bra down, but neither one fit like they ought to. The elastics, stretched to fit over the widest parts of her breasts and hips, refused to contract without time to drive their elasticity.
“Fuck,” Pyotr muttered. He had no desire to see Zarya’s anger at having her bra snapped by the Invisible Man. Cupping his hands, he pressed her breasts back to roughly where they had been under the bra, tucking the elastic underneath them. He folded it like a sine wave, hoping that it would wind up creating many small tugs instead of one large, painful one. The panties were a little easier, not being as far-stretched or as strong of a band, but he still worried that she would know something had happened.
On the other hand, it didn’t matter what she knew; sitting as he was between Sera and Anna, there was no way he could even reach her across the breakfast table.
He was pretty sure the robe slid back on where it had been, and with it tied and her back in her chair, there was nothing to indicate what he had done.
The quiet thump of elastic on skin that came with time’s resumption echoed in Pyotr’s ears. He tried not to look directly at Zarya as she flinched and drew in a hissing breath.
“Something wrong, Zar?” Sera asked.
“No, it is this shitty bra,” Zarya replied. She opened he robe and tugged the garment left and right, adjusting the fit over her breasts with no apparent concern for Pyotr’s view. “I think I broke an elastic.”
Anna giggled. “Perhaps you lifted too many overturned cars.”
Zarya shrugged. “Derailed freight trains, actually,” she said, flexing an arm. “And you were glad of it when that boy at school gave you trouble.”
“That was six years ago,” Anna complained. “He’s hot now and he’s terrified of me!”
“Perhaps you should have considered that when you asked me to make him leave you alone forever.”
Pyotr smiled. One thing his sisters had never been was vulnerable. Zarya was terrifying. Sera had half the world convinced she was as unpredictable as a cat with its tail tied to a vial of nitroglycerin. And Anna had the other half wrapped around her dainty little finger. As brothers go, Pyotr had things easy. He’d never needed to fight battles for any of them.
“Why are you smiling?” Sera asked, poking his ribs.
“It’s just nice to have everyone together,” Pyotr replied.
“I think so too,” Anna said, touching his arm.
That moment of contact was as good a time as any for Pyotr to stop time. He stood, pushing back his chair, and started unbuttoning the fleece pajama shirt that Anna was wearing.
“I enjoy the way you have been acting this morning,” he said, pulling the shirt open and sliding his hands across the skin of her breasts. “Let us make sure it continues.”
Kneeling down and lifting Anna’s breasts, Pyotr began gently sucking at her nipples. First one and then the other was drawn outward, peaking at the tip of her breasts’ generous swell. He rolled his tongue around them in slow circles and squeezed her breasts in his hands, shifting a little as his cock awoke in his pants and started straining toward her.
Pyotr stood, unzipping and pushing down his pants. Sitting as she was, Anna was at just the right level for him to rest his cock between her breasts, squeezing them gently inwards with both hands. He slid himself back and forth slowly, savoring the sensation of her flesh closing around him and his pulse throbbing against her skin.
He thought back to the video on her phone, the way she’d moaned while getting herself off, and felt a bead of liquid leaking onto her, smearing along the tight passage he’d created for himself. “Ah, we don’t want to move too quickly,” he said, then chuckled. “Of course, it is not like time is a concern, is it, my dear sister?”
Pyotr gently lifted Anna to her feet, sliding the pants off her legs and stroking them with his fingers. Lifting her a few inches into the air, he slid his aching cock into the gap between her upper thighs, pressing his shaft up against her warm slit. Too warm, he thought, and pulled back a little, looking down.
A thin layer of liquid shone on his skin. “Annushka, you naughty girl,” he said, sliding forward again, rubbing against her opening. “Getting all excited at the breakfast table, in front of your family. What would mother say?”
Anna didn’t respond, so Pyotr grasped her by her plump, firm ass, stroking back and forward more quickly. “I wonder how little I could do to make you cum,” he mused. “Perhaps you were planning to later, hm? Well, why wait?”
Anna’s pussy had spread open a little, and Pyotr drew back another inch, prodding at her entrance. She opened like a flower around him, easily letting him slide inside her. He pulled her hips in, spreading her legs and watching as her hungry pussy swallowed every last inch of him.
Pyotr turned and pressed his sister’s back to the wall, rubbing over her clit with his thumb while his palm pressed on her pelvis. His other hand held her waist, steadying her while he began to thrust in and out, slowly and smoothly.
Anna’s pussy was hot and slick with her excitement, and despite the pressure from his hand, she soon became too open for Pyotr to truly enjoy. Pulling back, he slipped out and left her there against the wall, turning to walk toward a storage closet.
A minute later, he was testing the knot on a blindfold he’d made for her out of an old scarf. Removing his own clothing and pulling her off the wall, he sat in his chair and dragged Anna down onto his lap. He slid easily back inside of her, then wrapped her arms and legs around himself and pulled her close against himself.
Carefully, aiming his glove directly at Anna, Pyotr pulled her out of time.
“What-” Anna’s words were cut off by a gasp as she felt the pleasure from all Pyotr’s previous contact at the same time. Her legs tightened on his waist, pulling their hips together and making her moan into his shoulder.
Pyotr slid his hands down to Anna’s hips, holding tight and dragging her back and forth in his lap. He stifled a moan, feeling an intense wave of pleasure as his sister’s pussy contracted, conforming perfectly to every inch of him, stroking everything with hop, moist flesh as he slid against her.
Anna’s hands tightened on Pyotr’s back, crushing her breasts against his skin. She bit down on his shoulder, making him draw a sharp breath, and started helping him move her, using her stomach and thighs to pull their hips closer and grinding against him.
Even muffled by his shoulder, Anna’s moans were loud, much louder than on her old video. Pyotr strained not to add his voice to hers, not wanting to be recognized. His hands slid down to her ass and squeezed greedily.
“Oh fuck,” she breathed, “fuck me!”
Pyotr lifted Annushka, keeping deep inside her as he slid out of the chair and bore her to the floor. Her grip on him tightened and she shivered as her back pressed to the cold tile, but her cries only grew louder when he started thrusting down into her.
Anna bit his shoulder again, groaning at each thrust. Her voice got higher and louder, and Pyotr picked up speed.
He was pumping into her hard enough to start sliding across the floor when she came around him, squeezing his cock impossibly tight and bucking her hips up into his thrusts. The sensation overwhelmed him and Pyotr groaned, driving down hard and erupting deep inside of Anna’s still-spasming pussy.
They laid together panting for a moment. Annushka swallowed and took a breath. “Who-”
Pyotr kissed her cheek and leaned down, brushing his lips against her earlobe. “Physics,” he whispered, a split second before he once more froze Anna in time.
He stayed there awhile longer, savoring Anna’s soft body beneath and around him. Finally, feeling himself start to soften and relax, he lifted up and gently disengaged from her.
Once Anna’s clothing was back on, Pyotr returned her to her chair. Sitting and placing her hand on his arm where it had been, he restarted time.
Anna gasped, no doubt shocked by the sudden emptiness and the sensation of her vagina swiftly closing. Pyotr smiled and patted her hand, amused by the perplexed look on her face, then stood up and picked up his plate. “I am going out,” he announced. “I will be back… later on.”
On his way toward the door, he caught a glimpse of Annushka in the hallway mirror. She was biting her bottom lip and staring at him with her eyes half-lidded, shifting one leg against the other. Pyotr chuckled and kept walking, feeling less stressed than he had in years.
Author: WriterJim
Timebenders 2: Channel-Surfing, Chapter 12 [timestop nc mf]
Pyotr found sleep next to impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, he would see one of his sisters. Sera’s breasts were burned into his memory, as was the image of Annushka staring at the ceiling while he used her body for pleasure. The images swirled and crossed over in his brain until he had a vision of himself fucking Serafina, groping her breasts and hearing her moaning for him.
Giving up on sleep, Pyotr swung his legs off the bunk and got up. He was far too aware of the sound of Sera’s breathing, a steady sigh he’d heard every night of his life. Tonight was the first time he’d ever thought of it as sexy.
He stopped time to avoid making noise as he got dressed and walked out of his house. The streets were empty and silent; the only sound he could hear were his own footsteps. There weren’t even any echoes, likely because the sound wave stopped shortly after leaving him, so it was like walking in a small room, except there were no walls. The contradiction made his head hurt.
Not thinking about his destination, Pyotr walked for a long time. He turned along streets made unfamiliar by their stillness, under stars that did not twinkle. All the while, his mind turned over itself, trying to reconcile what he’d intended when he set out to master the science of time with what he had achieved and what he had done.
Was it worth it to learn the secrets of the Universe if they brought such power? Could he be trusted with it? Clearly it was a temptation. Could anyone be trusted with it? For the first time in years, Pyotr found himself considering giving up on time travel, even though he literally held proof that it was possible in his hand.
It wasn’t until he was walking up the steps that Pyotr realized where he had been walking to. He unfroze time and knocked softly on the door, not wanting to wake anyone up if they had gone to sleep.
Jeremy came to the door in a heavy red robe. “Hey buddy,” he said with a smile. “What’s up?”
“I hope this is not a bad time,” Pyotr said.
“No such thing, for us,” Jeremy replied. “I was pretty busy when you knocked, I admit, but I finished up in between the moments. Petra’s in the shower now.”
Pyotr felt himself blushing a little, connecting the dots and realizing what Jeremy and Petra had probably been up to. “That is what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said. “I am not sure I want this power anymore. I quit.”
-*-*-
The afterglow fell off Jeremy in an instant. He’d been feeling great tonight; he always did when he was balls-deep inside of Petra, and she was responding more than usual, which was a good sign. He was thinking of getting her on some antidepressants if she didn’t perk up soon. She hadn’t even noticed when he’d stopped time so he could finish fucking her before going to answer the door.
But this? This was a disaster. Pete couldn’t quit. He was the best chance Jeremy had at fixing things. Going back, stealing the remote sooner, teasing a younger Petra into falling for the quiet boy next door… it would all slip through his fingers if his friend gave up on his dreams.
And of course, he cared that Pete was upset as well. He was a good guy, with an innocent way of looking at the world; he just needed a good friend to help him figure things out sometimes. Like right now.
“Pete, let’s take a walk,” Jeremy said. He stopped time and got dressed, then went to let Petra know he’d be back later. She was already in the shower, scrubbing herself with a rough sponge the way she liked to. It looked painful, but some girls will do anything for nice skin. He pushed the mist and spray out of his way and took a moment to admire his Princess’s body, then wrote a note on the whiteboard inside the bathroom door for her.
Peter seemed surprised when Jeremy pulled him out of time. He supposed it made sense; not everyone could deal with seeing someone suddenly and instantly change clothing, or with being yanked out of the flow of the Universe. Not everybody had the chops to be a God.
“Come on,” he said, closing the door and walking down the steps. Pete followed close behind him and took up step next to him as they walked down the street.
The two walked in companionable silence for a while. It was a long walk to where they were going, anyway.
After a while, Pete spoke up. “I did something that I regret today,” he said, looking away.
Jeremy frowned. “I can definitely relate to that, buddy. Is anyone, you know, hurt or dead?”
“No!” Pete said hurriedly. “No. No one is hurt.”
“Anyone upset? Or suspicious?”
“No.”
Jeremy shook his head. “I’m not sure what you’re worried about, then,” he said. “Nobody got hurt, so everything’s fine, isn’t it?”
“No, it is more complicated than that! I took advantage of… of this power.”
Jeremy suppressed a grin. “I see. Was a girl involved in this advantage-taking?”
“There was a girl, yes,” Pete said with a sigh.
“Reward, punishment, or just fooling around?”
“What?” His friend stopped walking and stared at him.
“Reward, punishment, or just fooling around?” Jeremy repeated. “Whatever you did to her. Was it for her own good, or to stop her being a bitch, or just for your own fun?”
Pete thought for a moment. “I suppose… a little bit of each. But mainly reward.”
Jeremy smiled. “So, you used positive reinforcement to encourage better behavior.”
“…Yes.”
“And now she’ll probably be a slightly better person in some way?”
“Well… yes, perhaps.”
“And she’s not upset. In fact, I’m betting she enjoyed herself?”
Even in the low light of the streetlamps, Jeremy could tell his friend’s face was turning redder by the second. “Yes,” Pete replied after a moment. “She definitely… enjoyed herself.”
“Well then, there’s nothing to worry about! Unless you knocked her up or took her cherry.”
Pete choked in surprise. “No! No, I… am nearly certain that did not happen.”
“Well all right, buddy,” Jeremy said, slapping Pete on the back. “No victim means no crime so there’s nothing to feel bad about! Hell, you made the world a better place. I wish every day could end so well.”
“I do not know about that…”
“Hey, don’t worry about it, okay? Let me take your mind off it for a little bit. Just table the whole thing, and we can come back to it. I guarantee you’ll feel better. Yeah?”
“Yes, alright,” Pete said, “but I still am not sure I want this anymore.”
Jeremy cheered internally. “Not sure” was better than “I quit”.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, starting to walk again. “I have just the thing to clear your head.”
-*-*-
Pyotr’s head didn’t feel clear, but he did feel better. A couple drinks and a game of pool tended to have that effect.
The pub was busy, but only comfortably so, rather than being crowded like some places got on a Friday night. Most of the tables were occupied by either couples or small groups, and in the back a lively game of darts was adding a friendly ambience to the background chatter.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Jeremy said, taking another sip from his drink. “So if you knew for a fact that it wouldn’t destroy the universe to make a paradox, then what would you do first in the past? No Hitler.”
“What?”
“Everyone says kill Hitler. Pick something else.”
Pyotr shrugged. “Kill Goebbels?”
Jeremy laughed. “No Nazis!”
“Oh, well you should have specified this!” Pyotr replied. “In that case… mmm… Katerina the Great.”
“You’d kill her?”
“No! Always with the killing, you are! I would speak to her stablehand, and lay to rest a great historical controversy.”
“Wait, wasn’t she the one who…”
“With the stallions, yes. It is said she had a special harness.”
Jeremy laughed. “That is fucked up, my friend.”
Pyotr shrugged. “Only if it is true.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll give you that.”
“What about you, what would you change in the past?”
Jeremy looked down into his drink. “Petra’s father.”
Pyotr felt the mood in their little corner booth shift. “You have never told me of him.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“If you want to, I will always listen.”
Jeremy sighed and looked up at him. “Yeah, maybe it’s time I came clean on that one.” He signaled the waitress to bring another round. “I told you how Petra and I met, right?”
“You grew up together. It is a sweet story.”
Jeremy nodded. “She lived next door. We were always friends. But there was always something between us, keeping us from getting together.”
“What was it?”
“It was her father. He… well, I don’t know what happened when she was younger, she never talks about it, but by the time we were turning 18, he had Petra brainwashed pretty badly.”
“Brainwashed? You mean…”
“The remote, yeah. He had it before me. Getting it… once I figured out it existed, getting it was part of my plan to save her.”
“How did you find out?”
“Well, Petra wasn’t always like she is now. She used to be like a living firecracker. Bright, full of life. But I noticed things changing around the end of High School, watching her. She was preoccupied, she quit doing the things she loved like swimming and sunbathing. And she was spending all her time with him.”
“Her father.”
Jeremy nodded. “I didn’t know for sure what was going on, but one night through the window I saw… well, let’s just say that he wasn’t thinking of her as a daughter anymore.
“I couldn’t believe that Petra would do something like that. She just didn’t seem the type, and I knew her probably better than she knew herself. Something had to be going on. So I started watching.
“It took a lot of sneaking around in the bushes, but I finally found out the truth about what was happening. One night I saw her dad pull this TV remote out of his pocket and press a button, then disappear.
“Of course I didn’t know what it was at the time. The best I could come up with was that he’d teleported or gone invisible. But I kept watching, and he got more careless, and I started noticing other changes. He’d instantly move over a foot and be carrying groceries. Or he’d go out with a rake and then instantly the leaves in his backyard would be piled up. Things like that. Sooner or later, it made sense.”
“Time control.”
“Time control, yeah. I didn’t know how he did it, but I knew it had to have something to do with Petra’s behavior. She was obsessed with pleasing him, always following him around. I had to get her away from him for her own sake, and to do that… I needed to steal his power.”
“But where did he get it from?” Pyotr asked.
“I never knew. He never told anyone, not even Petra. I doubt he made it himself. I’ve always thought he must have stolen it. Anyway, I didn’t think I could get it away from him, so I tricked Petra into bringing it to me.
“Once I had it, I get her away from him and started deprogramming her, but it was hard work. You’ve seen how people can be influenced by this thing. She was around it for months, maybe years.
“Meanwhile, her dad was tearing up the city looking for her. And he was still able to stop time.”
“What?” Pyotr sat up straighter. “How??”
“I don’t know. I think he somehow was using his mind. Maybe something about him let him absorb the power. I’ve tried, but it’s never happened to me.”
Pyotr filed the information away, a little annoyed to only now be hearing it after spending a week researching this power.
“Anyway,” Jeremy continued, “I had to get rid of him, make him stop looking for her. I made it look like she ran away because of him, but he didn’t stop, so I tried threatening him. I hated to do it, but all I wanted was for him to leave us alone.
“Everything I did made him more determined. I’d leave a threat, he’d ignore it and comb the city. I’d mass things up around him, he’d fix them instantly. He could stop time just by thinking about it, and I think he would wind back to the moment I changed something to reverse it. He just got madder and madder, and started acting crazy as well.
“Finally he was ranting and screaming in front of his wife and neighbors. I had to end it, to scare him into stopping. So I took him and put him in the street.”
Jeremy leaned forward as a look of shock crossed Pyotr’s face. “You have to believe me,” he said, “I didn’t think I had any other choice, and I was sure, absolutely certain, that he’d stop it in time and just appear right back where he was.”
“He did not.”
“No. It hit him, and he was… he was killed instantly. When Petra found out, she hadn’t been deprogrammed all the way, and still thought she was in love with him. It destroyed her. I’ve been taking care of her ever since.
“So yeah… if you built a proper time machine, and if going back wouldn’t destroy the universe, I’d find some better way. I don’t know, go back further and take away the remote when he first got it, expose him for abusing his daughter, something. Something that would save her from all that.”
-*-*-
Jeremy sighed, looking up at the ceiling fan, frozen in mid-spin. One of the nice things about being in control of time was that anytime you needed to stop and think, you could. You never had to say or do anything hastily. Many were the hours he’d spent alone in a crowd, existing between their heartbeats and planning his next move.
Still, it felt good to unburden himself. To finally be able to tell the whole truth to someone. To have someone know that he’d been responsible for a man’s death and at the same time know that it wasn’t his fault and it probably saved a young woman’s life.
“You need to relax,” Jeremy told himself. “Don’t wanna let yourself get all stressed.”
Usually, when he got to feeling this way, he would go to Petra for comfort. She understood him, and she always calmed her down, especially when he made love to her. But Petra had been even more down than usual lately, and there were plenty of distractions right here.
Plenty of distractions, and a friend to share them with.
-*-*-
Pyotr shook his head. “It is a sad tale, my friend,” he said. “I wish that I can help you.”
“Who knows,” Jeremy replied. “Maybe you can. For now, I think we should have a little fun. Take our minds off things.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Just a little fun. Look around you, this place if full of people we could play tricks on.”
“Tricks?”
“Sure. Nobody gets hurt, we have a laugh. Tricks.”
Pyotr shrugged. “I suppose that is alright.”
“That’s the spirit!”
Time stopped, a sudden effect that still made Pyotr’s ears pop sometimes. “What is it to be, then? Switch some people’s drinks around, plant things in their pockets to embarrass them?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of those two over there,” Jeremy said, nodding toward a nearby booth.
“The ladies? Jeremy, I-”
“Just trust me. It’s harmless fun. See, here come their dates with the drinks. We’ll run a little experiment, see if we can get them to switch.”
“Switch?”
“Yeah. Get them to switch partners. See if we can get someone to make a pass at someone other than who they came with.”
“I am thinking this is an excuse for you to look at their tits,” Pyotr said, shooting his friend a look.
Jeremy scoffed. “I need an excuse for that?” There was a little draft of air, and Jeremy chuckled. “There. I looked. They’re both awesome, although I think our waitress might be a little better.”
Pyotr laughed. It felt good to laugh. The drinks, the pub, the realization that he was not the only one who struggled with the power, had all relaxed him and helped him put his earlier worries out of mind. “Very well,” he said. “What is your plan?”
“I thought we might take turns. See who can pull it off the fastest. I’ll take the redhead. You take the brunette.”
Pyotr eyed the women critically. The redhead was a pale, thin girl with small but perky breasts, freckles, and a toothy smile that fit her face better than it should have. The brunette was taller, with high cheekbones and dark, wavy hair past her shoulders. She was wearing a dark red dress that showed off her generous cleavage. On most women, she would have been overdressed, but she made it work.
“Deal,” he said. “We will give these people a fun time.”
-*-*-
Leah didn’t want to go to her sister Chryssi’s wedding. She definitely didn’t want to be the maid of honor. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Chryssi; she did. They’d grown up in England together and never really fought. She just hated weddings, ever since she’d caught her own fiancé – husband, technically, for all of an hour – fucking a bridesmaid at their reception. She wasn’t a huge fan of Don, Chryssi’s fiancé, either. She couldn’t really say why, there was just something about him that set her on edge.
She’d told Chryssi as much over the phone. She would much rather send a huge gift and stay home, or maybe go out and buy another cat. But Chryssi had insisted.
“I can’t have my big day without my big sister,” she’d wheedled. “You’re closer to me than anybody. And besides, I think you’ll like the best man.”
“It’s bad enough that you’re marrying a Yank,” Leah had complained, “Now you want me to come all the way to America to meet another one?”
“I want you to come to America to be at my wedding. The fact that you’ll be sharing a dance with a handsome, single man is just a bonus. I want my big sister by my side. Besides, my accent will come back if you’re around, and you know guys here think we sound cultured and refined.”
“It’s just, I’ve got a lot on the go at work right now, and it’s awfully short notice-”
“I dropped everything to go to your wedding.”
Leah hadn’t been able to reply to that. It wasn’t until she heard her knuckles crack that she realized she was squeezing the phone, trying to crush it in her fist.
“Leah?” Chryssi asked. “Leah, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“No, you bloody well shouldn’t,” Leah replied, “but done is done and whether I like it or not, you’re fucking right. Now don’t bring that up again and I’ll be on the first flight I can.”
“Yay! I love you, sis!”
“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”
Truth be told, it hadn’t been that bad so far. She still didn’t particularly like Don; something about his perfect teeth and plastered-on grin made her want to kick him in the face. But she supposed that was an occupational hazard for a news presenter. And his best man, Brian, was not similarly afflicted.
Brian was a tall man, just muscular enough that it was obvious he took care of himself without obsessing over it. His dark blonde hair reminded Leah of a racehorse she’d met once as a little girl. She’d read in the paper weeks later that the horse had died, and now the thought suddenly made her feel very sad.
She smiled and participated in the small talk, not really paying much attention. It was a skill honed over many years of polite society. Instead, she watched the others.
Chryssi sat between her and the wall. She’d known that Leah wouldn’t be comfortable sitting with Brian yet, and taken the seat without a word. She really was a good sister, and she seemed very happy; Leah was pretty sure the arm she had on the table hadn’t moved since they’d first sat down and she’d grabbed Don’s hand.
Don was a little less off-putting in person, but that was probably because he was so very short. She had only seen him on webchats with her sister before, and now she kept having to stop herself giggling at the image of him delivering the news while sitting on a telephone book.
Then there was Brian. He shook her hand when they met, or rather grabbed it for a polite moment while making eye contact, and had complimented her dress, but beyond that he’d been respectfully distant, which was nice. He’d even managed to keep his eyes off her tits for most of the night.
She was about 80% sure she was going to fuck him in the near future.
Nothing serious, of course. Just a couple bodies colliding and then drifting away. After all, it had been a year and a half since Ian and the fastest annulment in the history of marriage, and sometimes a girl just wanted to get fucked by somebody.
The waitress brought a plate of chips around and set it on the table. Leah reached across to grab some and immediately felt the thump of one of her tits hitting the table.
She pulled back with a little gasp of shock, slapping an arm across her chest. Thankfully the dress had stayed in place, but it seemed the bra she’d worn underneath had snapped or something because she couldn’t feel the cups anymore.
“You alright, sis?” Chryssi asked.
“Yeah, yeah, just a wardrobe malfunction, as they say. ‘Scuse me.”
Crossing her arms, Leah crossed the pub to the ladies’ washroom. There was no danger of her dress falling, thanks to its straps and the tight zip up the back, but she was pretty sure she’d slipped both cups of her bra somehow because she couldn’t feel the damned thing at all.
Unfortunately, things got even weirder when she got to the Ladies’. She stood in front of the mirror and sighed; her condition was quite visible through the tight fabric of her dress. Even worse, pulling out the front and peering inside, she couldn’t see the bra at all!
“Bloody hell,” Leah cursed, patting herself down. Maybe the shoulder straps had snapped and the thing slid down around her waist or something. It would be just her luck; she might look great in the right bodice, but Leah often envied her sister’s little faerie tits. These great big boulders of hers were good for attracting men, and not much else.
Well, there was nothing else for it. She stepped into a stall, closed the door, and reached back to undo her zipper. Maybe if she could find the thing, she could do a quick repair or something.
The dress was so tight, she didn’t imagine where a whole bra could hide, especially one her size, but she shimmied out of it anyway and hung it by the straps on the little hook on the back of the door. Of course, standing around in just her pants in a toilet wasn’t going to help her nipple problem; she could already feel the cool air making them stiffen. She gave them a quick rub, hoping to keep a little warm, and lifted her tits out of the way to look down at herself.
Nothing. Just flesh, a little pair of knickers, and the low heeled shoes she was wearing. “Fuck,” she breathed, realizing that her bra was probably on the floor somewhere between here and the table she’d come from.
She really had no option but to get dressed and go back out there. Sighing, Leah shimmied back into the dress and zipped herself in, hefting herself into as good a fit as she could manage and hoping it wouldn’t be too noticeable.
All the way back to the table, she looked around at the floor, but there was no sign of her rogue brassiere. Thankfully, the lights were dimmer over the booths than in the loo, so maybe things would be alright, as long as she leaned forward a bit.
“There you are!” Chryssi exclaimed. “What took you so long?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Leah sat and scooted over. “Just a loose thread.”
“If you say so,” Chryssi said with a shrug.
“I can hook you up with my tailor,” Don said.
Leah smiled in thanks and waved away the suggestion. “It’s nothing’ really, I-”
Don looked curiously at her. His pecs looked more boldly at her. “You alright?” he asked.
Leah blinked, and then Don’s clothes were back. Which was only natural because they’d never been gone. That was silly.
“I’m fine, really,” she said, reaching for her shoulder and subtly adjusting the bra strap that was biting into her shoulder.
For a long moment, she almost screamed.
-*-*-
Jeremy laughed and slapped Peter on the back. “Well timed! That was awesome.”
Pete shook his head. “I still am unsure about this. She did not seem to be having fun. I think I upset her.”
Jeremy shrugged. “She’ll get over it.” He walked over to the table, pulling Leah off the seat and leaving her sitting on air, then sliding in next to Chryssi. “Oh course, if you really want to get the juices flowing, you gotta be a little more direct.”
Chryssi’s yellow dress seemed almost out of place in the dim light of the bar. It was the sort of thing you’d wear to run through a field in Switzerland. But with skin as white as hers, anything darker would have made her look like a vampire. Not that the vamp look wasn’t hot, Jeremy noted as he unbuttoned the front of the dress and slid it off her shoulders, but not everyone wanted to scare old people.
There were freckles on the pale skin of Chryssi’s breasts, matching the ones across the bridge of her nose. Jeremy traced a finger from one to another, connecting the dots and taking a moment to admire her perky little tits, so firm that she apparently didn’t feel a need to wear a bra. Redheads were great; they had a pure look to them that appealed to the eye, and stereotypes encouraged them to be crazy in all the fun ways.
Leaning down, Jeremy took one of her pale pink nipples in his lips. He sucked it slow and hard, dragging as much titflesh into his mouth as he could before moving to the other one. His fingers meanwhile slid up the inside of her thigh, slipping down under her panties and rubbing her pussy. He took his time, although since that time was compressed it didn’t matter how fast he was; he wanted to enjoy this for himself, and maybe show Pete how to have a good time.
-*-*-
Chryssi sighed internally at her sister. Leah may have been gorgeous, but she was really retarded when it came to men. She’d developed early physically, but never quite seemed to grow into her body mentally. Growing up, it was a constant cringefest watching her miss obvious passes from hot guys, while Chryssi’s less eye-catching figure kept her in her sister’s shadow.
Things weren’t that much different now, it seemed. Hooking Leah up with Brian had been Don’s idea; Brian’s wife had left him a year before, and he was only now starting to consider dating again. He was handsome, intelligent, and polite, the perfect non-threatening date to distract Leah from her obsession with disliking Don.
Sure, there were reasons not to like Don. There were reasons not to like anybody. But being a little vain and maybe occasionally condescending was no reason to describe someone as “just wrong” or to say they gave you “the willies.”
Hopefully, by the time the wedding rolled around, the only willy Leah would be getting was Brian’s.
Leah seemed to be a little preoccupied with subtly adjusting her boobs. Wondering if he’d noticed the fidgeting and jiggling, Chryssi looked at Brian and came.
It was so sudden that she didn’t even notice at first. Her gaze hit his face, and suddenly her body was on fire. Machine-gun waves of pleasure shot from her pussy straight into her brain, filling every space in her perceptions save for the two little nuggets of awareness that her nipples were getting in on the fun as well.
She gasped and slapped a hand down on the table, doubling over in her seat. Her thighs snapped shut so hard she thought she might have sheared her panties in half, until she started feeling the damp squish of them against her skin. She bit her cheek until she tasted blood; her vision obscured first with blackout darkness and then a curtain of red as blood returned to her head and her hair cascaded over her face. Somehow, Chryssi weathered the storm of sensation until it finally started to clear.
Panting, Chryssi pushed back her hair and sat up again. Everyone at the table was staring at her, along with a few other tables and some of the wait staff. “Sorry,” she said, wiping sweat from her brow. “Just… just a cramp. I’ll be okay.”
After some reassurances, the others seemed to accept that she would be alright. Another round of drinks arrived, and everyone seemed to forget about Chryssi’s outburst. Her phone buzzed and she dug it out of her purse to check her messages.
There was a new message from Leah. Chryssi glanced over and noticed that her sister had her own phone sitting in her lap. She opened the message.
“That was no cramp.”
Chryssi felt herself blushing. She quickly sent back a response. “I’m fine, leave it.”
“I know that smell. Bunkbeds sucked growing up. Especially when you got new boy band posters.”
Chryssi kicked Leah’s foot under the table. “I don’t smell,” she texted back.
“Everyone’s smells. What’s going on?”
Chryssi was about to type a reply when a little squeal got her attention. She glanced at Leah and felt herself blushing again. Her sister was bent slightly forward, both hands tight gripping her thighs and digging in her fingernails. She was biting down on her lip and breathing raggedly, just barely avoiding notice while Don told a story about his hairdresser. Most disturbingly, her nipples were pretty visible through her dress, which presumably meant that her bra had… what? Disintegrated?
When she settled down, Leah turned to meet her sister’s gaze. She had a fearful look that Chryssi knew was echoed on her own face.
What was happening to them?
-*-*-
“Jeremy, I am thinking we should call off this ‘fun’. Look at them, they are very upset.”
Jeremy scoffed. “Whatever dude, they just need to cum some more and they’ll be begging for it. Last time I did this the girl went off to the bathroom and kept on saying the guy’s name over and over so she’d keep cumming.”
“Perhaps,” Pyotr said, plucking the phone out of Leah’s hand. “But this girl is not that girl. These messages show she is scared, she thinks she is having some sort of seizures.”
Jeremy took a swig from Chryssi’s glass and shrugged. “Might as well make it a good one, then,” he said, plucking from her seat Leah and shoving her in the air toward Pyotr. “Catch.”
Pyotr stumbled forward desperately before he remembered that gravity would have no effect on the girl. “What are you doing now?” he asked.
“What does it look like?” Jeremy said, pulling the dress up and over Chryssi’s head, unceremoniously stripping her down to her panties. “I’m gonna show her a good time.”
Pyotr held Leah in his arms as if she was going to fall, staring dumbstruck as Jeremy lifted Chryssi onto the padded booth seat. She was on her hands and knees, looking toward Pyotr.
Jeremy pulled her panties to the left and started moving his hand behind her. “She’s soaked, you should see this,” Jeremy said. “Looks tight, too. How’s yours?”
Pyotr was about to answer, but stopped when he noticed Jeremy’s movements had changed. He was holding Chryssi’s hips and thrusting slowly back and forth with his pelvis. He was fucking her, right there in the booth.
“What’s the matter, Pete?” Jeremy asked. “You like her, don’t you? If she’s not your type I can find another-”
“Jeremy, this is wrong. You are using her, and she will not enjoy it.”
Jeremy kept pumping into her as he replied. “Wanna bet on that one?”
Before he could reply, Pyotr found himself sitting on a chair. His stomach turned over, which made sense if Jeremy had moved him outside of time. In front of him, some of the tables had been moved to open an area on the floor. Chryssi lay on her back with her head toward him, and Jeremy was on top of her, thrusting rhythmically into her. Her arms and legs were wrapped around him, and she was moaning.
“Ohh fuck, Jeremy, fuck me,” she cried, digging her nails into his shoulderblades. “I’m cumming again, don’t stop!”
Jeremy drove down into her faster, slapping his hips on hers loudly again and again. “You see?” he said, looking up at Pyotr with a victorious grin. “The slut loves every minute of it.”
“Oh yes,” Chryssi cried, “I’m your slut, give it to me!”
Jeremy groaned and drove down violently into Chryssi, bouncing her entire body with the force of his thrusts. Finally, with a full-body shiver, he slammed against her a final time and stayed there. Chryssi moaned and cried in pleasure while Jeremy came into her, holding him like a lover and pulling him in deeper with her ankles.
“That’s a good girl,” Jeremy said, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair back from her face. “Let me go now, baby, and I promise I’ll be right back.”
“Yes sir,” Chryssi said, panting on the floor while Jeremy lifted himself up off of her. Her breathing stopped dead and Jeremy zipped up his pants, stepping away from her ravaged and time-frozen form.
Pyotr shook his head in disbelief. “How did you do that?”
“What, convince her? It was actually pretty easy. Most girls are sluttier than they think they are.” He nodded to Pyotr’s left, where Leah was sitting, staring blankly toward her sister’s naked body. “According to Chryssi, your girl there is bad with dating and doesn’t get nearly enough attention. I think it sounds like she needs a good, deep dicking.”
Pyotr frowned. “She is not my girl! And that does not make me think it is okay to do this without her permission.”
“I respect that.” Jeremy walked behind the bar and took a couple coolers out of a fridge, then returned and handed one to Pyotr. “Have a drink, and we can talk about it.”
-*-*-
“All right!” Pyotr said, draining the last drops of his drink. “I will grant you that the argument has merit. But it is still murder to pull the lever.
“Even though you’re saving five people?”
“I did not say it was not a just murder. It is a tragedy, but a murder still.”
“Right! So while touching her is molestation, it is a just molestation. And you said you would pull the lever, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“The lever is Leah’s panties.”
Pyotr tried to drink from his bottle and was disappointed to find it empty. He shoved it into the little cloud of similarly empty bottles behind the booth where he and Jeremy were sitting. “So you are saying that if I make her feel good, even if she is unhappy about it, that good is still good, and doing good is… good.”
“Now you got it! That’s what I do. I spread good!”
“Ah, ah, you do more than that.”
Jeremy raised his hands in surrender. “True. I spread mischief, too. Which makes life more exciting, which is…?”
“Good.”
“Good!” Jeremy slapped his hand on the table. “Now c’mon, let’s make that girl feel good.”
“You know,” Pyotr said, pushing slowly out of the booth, “in Science it is frowned upon to have relations with test subjects.”
“In Science, you can’t ever observe anything without changing it.”
“Well on the quantum level, sure.”
“In life, you can’t time-freeze a girl without making her cum.”
“My friend, that is a good rule,” Pyotr said, reaching for Leah where she hung in the air, still in a seated position. He pulled her to him and brushed the hair back from her face. “She is beautiful. And you say she is single?”
“Thinking of giving her a call?”
“Perhaps.” Pyotr grinned, fumbling with the zipper on the back of Leah’s dress.
He’d already seen Leah’s breasts before, while stealing her bra, and again a second time when he made her cum at the table, but Pyotr still had to take a breath and admire them as the dress slid down. Her bra, which already lay under one of the tables, proudly declared itself a 36DD, but even without it she did not sag. Her nipples were so perfect they could have been on the cover of Nipples Magazine, were there such a thing. Pyotr chuckled at the idea of a magazine by nipples for nipples, leaning in and pressing his face between Leah’s generous breasts.
Soft, wet sounds told him that Jeremy had woken Chryssi up; looking back over his shoulder, he could see the back of her head bobbing up and down in Jeremy’s lap while his friend gave him a thumbs-up.
Pyotr rolled his eyes and returned to the very important business of removing Leah’s dress. It was practically painted on her form, and he was unable to get it down over her pleasantly wide hips without tearing the seams. Instead, he lifted it up over her head like a shirt.
“Pardon me,” he said, smoothing down Leah’s hair and lowering her arms. “Much better, yes?”
Leah stood – well, hovered – in nothing but a small pair of panties. They were dark red and looked like silk. A darker spot in the front reinforced Pyotr’s belief that, were she able to honestly answer, she would have approved of his actions. He lifted her and drew her in close, but he had to press his nose against the fabric before he could inhale her scent. It made sense, since the air wouldn’t be moving, and for a moment he wondered how it was possible to take a nap in the frozen world without suffocating.
He had only touched outside Leah’s underwear before, so he was sure to pay attention to the view as he slid them down and off her hips, revealing a dark strip of short hair and a glistening wet sex beneath it. His fingers trailed along the soft, warm skin of her legs, dragging the little garment down until she was free of it.
Standing again, Pyotr pressed his face between Leah’s thighs. He held her round, firm ass in both hands to keep her still while he licked and sucked at her.
He found himself remembering doing the same thing with Annushka before, but now instead of guilt he felt excitement. The taste was similar but different in ways he could not articulate, and the feeling of stronger, larger thighs against his cheeks gave the act a different aspect.
Reaching up with one hand, Pyotr cupped and squeezed Leah’s breast. He was careful not to be too rough and hurt her, but nor could he be gentle anymore; her body was wonderful, and every instinct he had was demanding he Take and Use and Have.
Pyotr held Leah’s waist and brought her down again until he could suckle at one of her nipples. His fingers moved between her legs, stroking her pussy and gently opening its outer lips. Moving her legs around his waist, he felt the moist warmth of her entrance touching the tip of his now rock-hard cock, although he didn’t really remember taking his clothing off. Dismissing the observation, he gripped Leah by the hips and entered her with a decisive thrust.
***Continues in Comments***
Timebenders 2: Channel-Surfing, Chapter 11 [timestop nc mf]
*Sorry about the late postings. Here’s something special: a 6,897-word chapter! Enjoy!*
——
Pyotr felt conflicted.
On one side, he was constantly elated by the discovery which Jeremy had shared with him. It was an amazing ability, and just observing the interactions between time, inertia, and gravity had answered hundreds of mysteries about the nature of the universe. He had confirmed more theories in less than a week than in his entire school career prior.
On the other, he felt disturbed by the amount of power the Glove represented. In the days since Jeremy had given him the glove, they had been spending a lot of time together, but Jeremy’s use of his power was a little disturbing.
The day after giving him his Glove, Jeremy and Pyotr had been in class together. It felt like a needless torture, having to sit and listen to a lecture on concepts he already knew, especially simple things like logic structures, but he didn’t want to let his enthusiasm for his research affect his grades.
They sat near the back in the lecture hall, looking down over the heads of the other students at the professor, who was writing a flowchart on the whiteboard. Pyotr was copying the chart into his own notes when some movement caught his eye.
One of the girls in the next row down was slumped low over her desk, looking embarrassed as she picked at her clothing. It looked like she had some sort of bra malfunction and was trying to put things back in place. Pyotr watched, distracted and a little turned on by the thought of the girl shoving and squeezing what looked like a very nice pair of breasts right there in the classroom.
Nearby, another girl suddenly did the same thing: blushing, she leaned forward, stood up her open textbook as a shield against most eyes, and pushed her hand down the top of her shirt to stuff herself back into her bra. Then another girl slid down low in her chair, and another, until at least a dozen girls were messing with their bras.
Jeremy chuckled, and Pyotr shot him a glance, which was met with a wink and a grin. Sighing, Pyotr returned his attention to the lecture, but Jeremy was apparently still bored, because the girls in the class kept shuffling and moving in their seats. Pyotr watched as one particularly well-endowed girl’s breasts suddenly fell down on her desk with a dull thud, making her gasp in surprise and, he assumed, a little pain.
Jeremy snickered and poked Pyotr, gesturing for him to look in his backpack. Inside was a large, lacy pink bra, which presumably had been on the girl before her unfortunate impact.
“What are you going?” Pyotr whispered.
“Just having a little fun,” Jeremy replied. “Come on, this class is boring as shit.”
“Didn’t you have enough ‘fun’ yesterday with the cafe girl?”
Jeremy smirked. “Not by a long shot,” he said. “But I caught up with her after her shift was over.”
Pyotr glared at him and shook his head, then stopped time. He dug the bra out of Jeremy’s bag and walked down a couple rows to where the braless girl was sitting, leaning way back in her chair so nobody would notice the lower position of her previously anti-gravity bosom.
Even without the apparently magical bra, she was very pretty. She had blonde hair in pigtails and tanned skin, and while her upper body was obscured by a loose sweater, her hips and legs were hugged by light-colored denim that looked almost painted on.
Pyotr straightened her gently and lifted her arms, then pulled the sweater up and off of her. He tried very hard to ignore the flutter in his chest and the shifting in his pants as her tan lines told the story of a summer spent in a very small bikini.
Putting a bra onto a girl, as it turns out, was a little harder than taking one off of her. Pyotr wanted to respect the girl’s privacy, but he found once he got the thing onto her arms that he really had to see what he was doing to get the cups in position. He slid the cups down onto her breasts, which had apparently been barely covered by the bikini, since the only untanned area was a small triangle centered on each of her pink nipples, and then tried to clip it closed behind her back.
Of course, things are never as simple as they seem. As soon as Pyotr pulled the clasps together, the bra slid up off the girl’s breasts. Pyotr sighed. Why couldn’t girls just wear clothing that fit them?
“Pardon me, miss,” he said quietly, reaching his hands under her breasts and lifting them into place. They were warm and soft, and his palms itched with the urge to squeeze and rub them, but instead he gently pushed them inward and placed the bra over them once more.
It took a little rubbing and pushing before the girl looked like she was fitting into her cups again, but it was necessary, since otherwise she’d spring forward as soon as time started and probably attract even more attention. By the time everything was back in place and her sweater back on, Pyotr was aching to strip her down once more.
Steeling his resolve, he instead turned on his heels and returned to his seat. When he started time again, the girl looked confused but relieved.
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Spoil-sport,” he whispered. “No matter, what I really wanted was these.”
“What- Jeremy!” Pyotr whispered angrily. There in Jeremy’s hand was a pair of panties that matched the bra he had just put on the girl. Snatching it away, Pyotr glared at his friend. “Stop that,” he said, and stopped time once more.
“Once more, miss, I am sorry,” Pyotr said, gently lifting the girl out of her seat and suspending her mid-air in the aisle. He unfastened her jeans and peeled them off of her, then started sliding the panties, which turned out to only be a thong, up her legs.
Pyotr tried not to look directly at the girl, although he had most definitely seen an exciting patch of blonde hair. “I do not know how you can find this comfortable,” he muttered, tugging the waistband up until the string buried itself between her firm ass-cheeks. He turned her around to make sure it was in place, then cursed.
There were words written on the girl’s ass in thick black marker. One cheek read “PUBLIC SLUT” and the other declared her a “FREE FUCK”. Pyotr looked back up at Jeremy’s face and almost thought he saw him grin down at them.
Pyotr licked his thumb and tried to rub off some of the ink, but it was useless. It was permanent marker; to wipe it off he would have to rub so hard that it would hurt the girl. Not that he minded rubbing her very firm buttocks, but there were lines he didn’t want to cross without reasons. Grumbling, he stomped back up the aisle.
It took a minute to find the marker – one of the ones used for those giant paper notepads in presentations – in Jeremy’s pocket. Pyotr walked back to the girl and carefully, as gently as he could, he colored over the letters to obscure them. He tried to make it look like she had sat on something, hoping that if she went to the beach again it wouldn’t look too much like she’d been letting someone draw on her.
It was difficult to get the jeans back on the girl. Pyotr had to brace himself behind her and pull them up, holding her hips against his own, and it was impossible not to notice once again how firm her ass was as it rubbed against his crotch. It was also hard not to notice that the pants were too small for her, but eventually he did get them up and over her hips.
This time, the feeling was not as subtle for her. Pyotr started time from his desk, and she yelped and almost jumped out of her seat. Several students looked in her direction, but she sat still afterward and they eventually forgot about her outburst.
Jeremy elbowed Pyotr in the ribs playfully. “You get a load of her ass?” he asked.
“I did not get a load of anything,” Pyotr replied, “and neither should you. You have a beautiful girlfriend whose ass you can get a load of!”
Time stopped again, but this time it was Jeremy who had used the control. “Listen, Pete,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I get it. You want to respect people, and do good things. And I’m telling you that you will do great things! You’ll make your own machine, and we can go back and save Lincoln, or shove Hitler in a cupboard, or whatever you want! You can save billions of lives and make the world a better place!”
Pyotr nodded. “This is true, but…”
“But in the meantime,” Jeremy interrupted, “you need to practice with the power we’ve got. It gets easier to use once you do it awhile, and what better way to practice than with a few harmless pranks?” Standing, Jeremy walked over to another girl, this one a mousey little brunette with short hair and glasses. He lifted her shirt and pulled her bra down under her perky little breasts, then put her shirt down again. “There, see? Did that hurt anyone? Did that make me a bad person?”
Pyotr shook his head. “Not really, but…”
“But nothing! Come over here. Look at all these people. Half of them are assholes, and all of them are bored. A little mischief is good for them! C’mon, you try!”
Pyotr shrugged. “I suppose if nobody is hurt…”
“Exactly! Hey, help me out, I’m gonna unclip every bra in this room. It’s gonna be great!”
-*-*-
Pyotr had left Jeremy after class, heading home to his dormitory, then turned around and walked in a different direction instead. Almost without thinking about it, he walked off campus to a train station and rode the rails for a couple of minutes. Now he was walking down familiar streets, toward home.
His family had moved from Russia when he was just a little boy, but Pyotr’s father had worked very hard and saved all he could and eventually purchased a small house near the University campus. It was here that Pyotr and his three sisters had grown up, and it was here that he always came when he needed to really think.
Walking in the front door, Pyotr stopped and inhaled deeply. The smells of home washed over him: fresh bread, air freshener, his mother’s subtle perfume. He smiled and kicked off his shoes, then headed for his bedroom, stopping on his way to kiss his mother’s cheek and try a taste of the stew she was preparing.
His room was mostly as he had left it. Mostly, because only half of it was his; he had long shared the space with his twin sister, Serafina. She had a habit of letting her own clutter spill over into his things, but it never really bothered him very much.
He hopped onto his bed, the bottom of a sturdy wooden bunk that his father had built. It was comfortable and smelled of rich cedar, but of course it had little imperfections here and there, since it was made from boards and nails instead of swedish hex bolts and pre-made parts. Pyotr sighed, feeling his worry melt away.
Serafina’s head popped down from above, grinning at him. “Privyet, brother!” she quipped, her thick accent turning the word into “brozzer”. Sera had always exaggerated her accent; she knew that it made her sound exotic, and that threw people off-guard, either through unfamiliarity or because of the sultry sexuality of a foreign voice.
Pyotr rolled his eyes and nodded to her. “Hello, Sera,” he said. “Are you home for the weekend as well?”
“Everyone is! Zarya left the kids with her husband, and Annushka promised to ignore her friends for once.”
Pyotr sighed. He did love his sisters, but they could be a handful, particularly when he was trying to relax and clear his head. At least his elder sister hadn’t brought her children, but young Anna had long been the bane of Pyotr’s existence. She was rude and demanding, but only to him; everyone else thought she was a perfect angel. Only Sera knew the truth.
Of course, it made sense that Sera knew whatever Pyotr knew. They had always been very close, sharing rooms and toys and sometimes even clothing; Sera was never one for skirts and dresses. She was a little thinner than Pyotr, the result of her long years of gymnastics and ballet lessons, but they were close enough in size to share most things.
Even her hair tended toward the shorter styles, creating a tomboyish look. Sera flipped down onto Pyotr’s bunk, interrupting his reminiscing. She bounced perfectly into a position between him and the wall, cuddling up to him with a familiarity reserved for twins and lovers. They had often been mistaken for the latter, but only because they were so close that there were no secrets between them. Well, almost none; Pyotr didn’t dare tell Serafina about the reason he was wearing a glove.
“Did nobody tell you we were getting together?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.
“No,” Pyotr grumbled. “Once again, everyone assumes that because I am clever I already know these things.”
“I am sorry. If you like, we can play tricks on them in revenge.”
Pyotr sighed. “Not this time, sister, but thank you.” Just thinking about “tricks” brought Jeremy to mind. What would his friend do if he were there? Probably something unpleasant.
Sera shrugged. “Your loss. I might put something sticky in Zarya’s shoes anyway, I think I owe her one for something she did ten or so years ago.” She grinned and kissed his cheek, then bounced off the bed. “Coming to dinner?”
“In a moment,” Pyotr said.
Serafina nodded and walked out of the room.
“Nice thong,” Pyotr called after her, teasing her and prompting her to pull her jeans up to a level that would be less likely to get her smacked with a wooden spoon when their mother saw her.
“Thanks, you can borrow it later,” she replied, winking at him.
Pyotr grinned. Sera had always liked shocking people. He remembered when they were twelve and she made him help her pierce her ears with a safety pin. She’d been very proud of herself until infection set in.
“That’s so trashy,” Annushka declared, marching uninvited into Pyotr’s room and sitting at his desk. “She’s gonna get molested.”
“What do you want, Anna?” Pyotr asked, glaring at her.
Anna stuck out her tongue at him. She often acted like she was still a little kid, despite the fact that she was 18 now and very obviously grown up. It was a bit hypocritical to be proud of having larger breasts than Sera and also to pretend to be an innocent little girl, but Annushka thrived in hypocrisy.
She started brushing her long brown hair, using Pyotr’s swivel chair like her personal salon. “Mom says we gotta spend time as a family. I was thinking you could help with my physics homework.”
“Anna, when you ask for ‘help’, I end up doing all of the work.”
“This’ll be different, I promise! Please?”
-*-*-
It wasn’t different. Some things never change.
Pyotr grumbled, tapping his foot and waiting. Annushka was chattering on her phone with one of her friends, ignoring his attempts to show her how to properly derive formulae. He was determined to get her to complete her assignment properly, but every moment tempted him more to just complete the assignment and walk away.
Dinner had been pleasant enough, but Annushka had trapped him by again asking for help in front of their parents. So now Pyotr was stuck in Anna’s room until the homework was completed, or one of them killed the other. He wasn’t sure which outcome was more likely.
Stepping back from the cluttered little desk she kept, Pyotr sat on Anna’s bed. He needed to get Anna’s attention, get her to focus. Most of all, he needed her off the phone.
Remembering his early experiments, an idea started to form in Pyotr’s mind. He stopped time, taking a moment to think about how remarkable it was that he could just do that now, then walked up to Anna’s chair. Carefully, he moved the phone away from her ear and leaned in close.
“GET OFF THE FUCKING PHONE, YOU USELESS BITCH!” he shouted in her ear. He knew she wouldn’t understand the words, but it felt good to say. Returning her phone to its former position, he sat down again and started time.
“Ow!” Anna cried, putting a hand over her ear and recoiling from the phone.
“Are you alright?” Pyotr asked, feigning concern.
“Didn’t you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“I don’t know, it was just this loud noise that hurt my ear, then was gone.” She shrugged, returning to her call. “Stephanie? Yeah okay, so I mean he only wants to date me because of my tits, but he has a car, you know? Anyway…”
Pyotr stopped time again and snatched the phone away from his sister, closing his hand around it to pull it out of time with him. The call disconnected, finding no signal. He turned the screen up to its maximum brightness and started looking around at its contents.
There were a lot of text messages during class time. That wasn’t a surprise. She also had way too many useless apps installed, which made the phone a little slow. That was fine by him, however; the battery read 88%, and he wanted it to be much less than that.
Sitting on the bed, he flipped through the pictures and videos, killing time. There were many, many pictures of herself making the kissy face known as “duck lips”, and pictures of food for whatever reason, and a few of boys playing sports or running or just standing around, not knowing apparently that she was looking at them. He shook his head at her vapid hobbies.
There were also some pictures of a girl in her underwear, which was interesting. Pyotr didn’t realize his sister liked girls. It was a lacy little bra and panty set, in a standing pose from front and behind. She had fair skin and impressive breasts, and Pyotr found himself enjoying looking through the images, particularly when the underwear started coming off, revealing light pink nipples and a well-shaved pussy. There was a video, too. Pyotr started the playback, adjusting his now very tight pants.
The image was a close shot between her legs, with one hand rubbing herself. Through the tinny speaker, Pyotr could hear her moaning, and he found his own hand moving to the bulge in his pants, mirroring her movements. The girl rubbed faster, then slipped two fingers inside herself and began fingering herself.
Faster and faster she went, moaning breathlessly. It was one of the hottest things Pyotr had ever seen. The girl’s voice built up and then went almost silent as her breath caught; for a few seconds all he could hear was the wet slipping of skin on skin. Then she let out a little cry, having what looked like a pretty incredible orgasm.
Pyotr felt pretty close to getting off himself and considered unzipping his pants, but then the camera swung up and around. It panned slowly up the girl’s nude body and to her face. On the screen, Annushka panted blissfully, licking her fingers clean.
Pyotr tossed the phone on the bed as if it had lit on fire. And she had called Serafina trashy! Annushka wasn’t worthy to share the same air with Sera. After all her posturing, to think that she had made such a video. And for whom? It made him feel angry just thinking of his little sister giving such a thing away to someone.
Picking up the phone again, Pyotr considered deleting all the files. A tiny, vicious part of his mind spoke up, however, and he first copied them onto a memory card. Not for himself, of course, but rather in case he should need leverage over Annushka in the future. Then he cleared the phone’s entire memory, resetting it to factory standards.
Pyotr took the phone and memory card back to his own room, intending to sit and wait while the battery discharged.
Sera was there, frozen like a statue. She had pulled her shirt up over her head, likely to change into her pajamas. Pyotr moved carefully around her, grabbing a book and laying on his bed to relax and pass the time.
She was looking good lately, he thought. It seemed like she’d been doing more core exercises, because even bent forward he could see in profile that her stomach was flat and toned. She had muscle over her ribs, giving her a healthy look. He made a note to compliment her later and started reading one of his physics theory books.
The book was an interesting one; the author’s theories all worked very well with what Pyotr had been observing, and predicted many things correctly. It was strange to be able to judge experienced scientists in hindsight. Also, he could see the underside of Sera’s breasts, which looked pretty great.
Pyotr closed the book and sighed. Was the Universe centered around voyeurism or something? Was God some childish pervert? Serafina was his twin, his other half. Not once in his life had he thought of her as a thing to admire sexually. Sure, he’d judged her objectively to be very attractive. She’d even asked him to do so, when trying on new outfits. They had shared bedrooms, bathtubs, clothing… she was not a woman to him, she was Sera.
Yet still, he sat staring at her breasts. He knew that he could remove her shirt and look at them if he so pleased. He could even touch them. They would be firm, and they would fit very nicely into his hands. All these things he knew as surely as he knew that he did not want to know.
“It that what you want?” he asked nobody. “Shall I go look at Zarya next, admire her asshole? Perhaps steal my mother’s panties? Must I cut off my manhood before I can focus on science?”
Grumbling, he swung off his bunk once more. He would go read outside if he had to, away from such temptations and distractions. He stepped toward the door, stopped, and turned around.
Sera’s breasts were indeed beautiful. He’d seen them before, but never really looked, and after today, he told himself, he would not look again. She would never know he had pulled her shirt up in the front to admire her smooth skin and perky nipples, and the stupid perverted manchild in his brain could just shut up and go to hell.
-*-*-
At last, the little phone beeped a low battery warning. Pyotr had gone through six chapters of his book, making notes in the margins and highlighting things to look up later on. Now he closed the book, picked up Anna’s phone, and returned to her bedroom.
He had stopped on the way outside and placed two clothespins on Anna’s earlobe, one at the top and one at the bottom. Now he removed them and clapped his hands loudly next to her ear, then returned the phone to her hand.
Anna shrieked when time started up again, tossing her phone onto the carpet and clapping her hands over her ear.
“Anna?” Pyotr said, pretending he had no idea what was going on. “What happened?”
“Something hurt me!” she exclaimed.
Pyotr walked over and picked up her phone. It had black marks near both ends, courtesy of some old charcoal in the neighbor’s outdoor grill. “It looks like it shocked you,” he said, handing it to her and looking at her earlobe. It was swollen and red from the pinching. “You should put ice on that.”
Anna stalked out to treat her injury, leaving Pyotr for a minute to suppress his urge to laugh out loud at his selfish sister’s well-deserved discomfort. When she returned, she had a bandage on her earlobe and a sour look on her face. “The battery’s dead, too,” he said, tossing the phone on her desk.
“Perfect, then we can focus on your assignment.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
-*-*-
Removing the distraction had not been enough. Annushka still refused to do her work, insisting that her brother should “demonstrate” each problem until they were done.
Pyotr had tried many things outside of time. Pinching her for looking away just made her angry; she was convinced, rightfully, that he had done it without her seeing. Positive reinforcement was not much better; using the smells of foods she liked when she did something correct just distracted her and made her hungry, and petting her hair like a well-behaved dog and whispering praise in her ear just made her feel nervous like she was being watched.
There was, of course, one method that he knew might work. He had been avoiding thinking about it, but now he had to face the truth. Either he had to do his sister’s physics homework, proving to her that he was her lackey… or he had to “stimulate” her.
“Argh!” he groaned in stopped time, clenching his fists. “I have seen enough naked sisters for one day!”
Still, he thought, it would be good to get out of there. And perhaps… if he could modify Anna’s behavior enough to make her want to do physics homework, it would go a long way toward understanding human behavior and reward response. Again, not his field of study, but valuable science nonetheless.
“I cannot believe I am doing this,” he told Anna, as if she could hear and reply to him. “You have forced my hand.”
Leaning over the desk once more, Pyotr started time. “Anna,” he said, “please let us look at the next page.”
Annushka sighed heavily. “Fine,” she said, turning the page over.
Pyotr stopped time as soon as he was sure she was looking at the questions in her textbook. Very carefully, he undid the buttons on the front of the simple dress she was wearing and slid it off her shoulders, trying not to care about her smooth, warm skin or to think about the sexy pictures he had on a memory card in his pocket. Using a feather-light touch, he ran two fingers up her spine, from her waist all the way to the back of her neck. He did it slowly, although he supposed that didn’t matter. Then he pulled the dress back up and rebuttoned it.
-*-*-
Anna was getting sick of fucking around with this stupid homework. If her brother wouldn’t do it for her, she could get one of the nerds at school to do it before class. But her mother had told them to get it done, so here they were, trapped together.
“Anna, please let us look at the next page,” Pyotr whinged.
Anna sighed heavily. “Fine,” she said, turning the page over.
She looked at the page and a shiver went up her spine. It felt like someone had touched her, but Pyotr was the only one there and she could see both his hands. She looked at him, then at the page again.
Another shiver, and a warm feeling in her cheeks, like she was looking at someone who turned her on or something. She shook her head and picked up her pencil, copying the first problem down in her notebook.
“Okay,” Pyotr said, “for this one we simply derive the formula from-”
Anna jumped, putting her hand to her breast. Her left nipple felt warm, and tingly. “Sorry,” she said, “what was that?”
Pyotr rolled his eyes in annoyance. “I said, you derive the formula…”
“Ah!” Anna exclaimed, shivering as her nipple once more tingled. It reminded her of a date she’d been on in a theater with a boy who’d pinched and rubbed the same nipple while they watched the film. “Say ‘derive’ again,” she breathed.
“No,” Pyotr said, giving her an annoyed look. “We do that from the formula in the previous question, where force equals…”
Anna listened to Pyotr more carefully, wondering if it would happen again. It seemed like she was almost getting excited by hearing him talk about physics. Maybe she was drunk, somehow.
“Now, you try,” Pyotr said.
Anna put her pencil on the page. Her hand felt warm, almost like it was being held. She started to copy the formula she needed to start with, and her right nipple reacted the way the left had before. Her hand stopped, and so did the pleasure, but when she began writing again the feeling came back, first on the right and then on the left as well.
She wrote faster, feeling the rubbing and tingling intensify and spread to the entirety of her breasts, and let out a little moan when the formula was complete.
“And now, derive,” Pyotr said, setting off the thing with her spine again.
Anna derived.
-*-*-
Pyotr chuckled. Anna was so easy to manipulate, once he got over the weirdness of touching her body. It helped to pretend she was a stranger, while he once again lowered the top part of her dress and removed her bra. Now that she was doing the actual question, he needed to up the ante. He leaned in and sucked each of her nipples for a few seconds, rubbing and gently squeezing the gravity-defying globes. Then, taking a deep breath, he lifted the hem of her dress.
Anna’s panties were plain white with a little bow on the front of the waistband. They were also darkened considerably by her own fluids. Pyotr reached down and rubbed the wet spot a little, then put the dress to rights again. Just a tease; the real reward would only come when she got the answer.
-*-*-
Anna tightened her throat, stifling a moan. She’d felt that one all the way down to her pussy! She kept writing, switching and simplifying values, eager to arrive at the solution.
-*-*-
Pyotr couldn’t deny it anymore; this was hot. Insanely hot. His cock throbbed in his pants as he once again lifted Anna’s skirt. He knew that it was pretty fucked up, but it was definitely working, and he had to see it through to the conclusion.
She was getting close to the answer now. Pyotr lifted her up, making her sit in the air, and slid her panties down and off of her. She looked just like she had in the video: smooth and glistening wet. He stroked her slit with his fingertips, then rubbed his fingers together, feeling the warm sticky juices that were coating her skin.
On a whim, he brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted her. It was a musky but surprisingly sweet taste, and he found himself rather enjoying it. He moved closer, spreading Anna’s thighs further so he could reach and running his tongue slowly up the length of her opening.
It was even sweeter from the source, and Pyotr found himself licking again and again until she was entirely clean, and even holding her ass in his hands so he could press his tongue inside of her.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Pyotr stepped back. He gently eased Anna back into the chair and put her dress down, shoving her panties in his pocket for the moment. She wouldn’t need them right away, anyway.
Time started, but Anna didn’t move. For a full second she froze, eyes wide, and then she responded. Her hand shook, scrawling a jagged line on the page, and she made a sort of squeaking sound, unable to hold back her moan of pleasure. Pyotr pretended to cough into his fist to hide his mischievous grin.
Annushka fidgeted in her seat and erased the line she’d drawn. “Sorry,” she whispered, reading the question to get back on her train of thought.
“It’s alright,” Pyotr said. “You’re tired. Just finish this question and we are done for now.”
Anna nodded, putting her pencil to the page. She began to write the last formula. A nervous shake in her hand made the lines wobble, but the answer was correct. It seemed she had been paying attention after all.
She closed her eyes and took a breath, anticipating her reward. Pyotr waited a few seconds, and she exhaled again.
“Huh,” she said. “That was-”
Pyotr stopped time and lifted Annushka out of the chair again. He pushed up her dress and spread her legs, once again licking up the sweet juices that had leaked out of her. At the same time, he unzipped his pants and began stroking his cock. He had decided that there was no harm in enjoying the sensation while he was here. And besides, why should Anna have all the fun?
This time he pressed deeper, sucking and thrusting with his tongue. He pulled back the skin hiding her clitoris and rubbed it with his thumb, keeping gentle in case it was too much for her.
After a while, Pyotr stopped feeling and tasting anything other than his own saliva. He pulled back, wiping his face, and started unbuttoning the front of Anna’s dress, pushing it down to bunch around her waist. He removed her bra and pulled her down, straightening her legs and sucking once more on each one of her nipples.
One of her thighs pressed against the tip of his cock. Her skin was warm and soft, and a bead of his own sticky fluid leaked out onto her. Still stroking himself, Pyotr used the head to smear it into her skin, then pushed her thighs together and slowly moved himself between them.
Anna’s thighs felt great, he thought. Almost like a real pussy. Or at least, he assumed so; Pyotr had never actually been with a girl. He pumped slowly in and out, playing with her breasts at the same time.
After only a couple pushes, however, the sensation loosened. Looking down, Pyotr found that Anna’s flesh had been pushed into her thighs, leaving a gap a little bigger than his rod. He moved her down a couple inches and pushed in again, moaning a little between her breasts.
Again she felt warm and tight and again she quickly loosened. Pyotr pushed her down further, kissing her neck, and then once more, but instead of the tight grip of her thighs he now felt a barrier of soft, hot, moistened skin.
Pyotr reached around and gripped Anna’s ass, stroking his painfully hard shaft and head along her pussy and moaning. He ripped off his shirt to feel her big soft breasts against his chest, pulling her in toward his thrusts and moving faster. A wave of pleasure made him shiver and clench his pelvic muscles, causing his cock to jump a little and prod at Annushka’s inviting gateway.
Pyotr looked down, surprised. He had never imagined that touching a female could feel this way, and now he was mere inches away from finally feeling what drives all men wild. His throat was dry and his heart was beating against his ribs.
Turning around, he laid Anna down on the bed and spread her legs. Standing between her thighs, he had a perfect view of his cock kissing the folds of her pussy. He thought about the video on her phone, and the way she’d moaned when she slid her slender fingers into that same opening.
Holding her hips, he pushed a little further. He watched the head of his tool get swallowed by Anna’s body, then stopped, simply feeling her. She felt boiling hot, but in a way that was overwhelmingly pleasurable. One day, he thought, he might feel this with a girl.
Moving one foot back, Pyotr began to pull himself out of Annushka. He hadn’t technically done it, he told himself, so he could stop now. Perhaps, though, he could use his powers to help make it easier to find a girl of his own. Jeremy could help, maybe. After all, he had Petra, and they lived together; surely they had had sex many times.
An image formed in his mind of Petra, laying on a bed stripped bare, moaning while he parted her thighs and slid inside of her. He moaned, pushing inch after inch of his desperate shaft into her perfectly-tight passage, reaching down to run his hand across a patch of fiery red hair.
His hand found only skin. There was no hair there, because Annushka was shaved bare, and he was inside of Annushka. Pleasure shut out the shock of it, and he started pumping slowly back and forth inside her, pressing his palm firmly down over her upper pelvis to help keep her from opening too wide.
His free hand gripped her breasts, squeezing each one and leaving deep handprints, as he started thrusting faster. Wave after wave of pure pleasure shot up his spine. Grabbing her hips, he thrust in faster and harder, deciding to keep doing this forever.
As soon as he had the thought to last, his body betrayed him. He came hard, groaning and still pumping into Anna’s slippery pussy, seeing stars as the blood rushed out of his head.
With a final thrust, he stopped, gasping for breath and propping himself on the bed. A moment later, the extent of what he’d done began to sink in. He looked down at his sister’s body, lying with her legs wide and her dress crumpled around her waist, stretched open around his cum-covered cock.
Stepping back, Pyotr moved in a daze. He used the panties in his pocket to wipe his cock clean, then did the same to his sister, wiping where his cum had leaked onto her skin. He tossed them toward a hamper, then plucked them out of the air and placed them in the hamper instead.
There were matching panties in one of Anna’s drawers, so Pyotr put a new pair on her, then put her bra and dress back on. He brushed her hair straight and transferred her to the chair once more.
Annushka was still holding her pencil. For some reason, this seemed hilarious to Pyotr. She had been frozen in time, stripped, and fucked, but dammit, she still had her pencil. Pyotr leaned back on the wall and laughed, sliding down slowly until he was sitting on the floor. He wasn’t exactly sure when the laughter turned to sobs.
-*-*-
“It’s alright,” Pyotr said. “You’re tired. Just finish this question and we are done for now.”
Anna nodded, putting her pencil to the page. She began to write the last formula. A nervous shake in her hand made the lines wobble, but she was certain the answer was correct. It seemed she had retained some of the lesson after all.
She closed her eyes and took a breath, anticipating her reward. After a few seconds, nothing happened and she exhaled again.
“Huh,” she said. “That was-”
There was a churning sensation inside her, like when a roller coaster drops out beneath you. It surprised her, but was quickly overwhelmed by a barrage of louder, more pleasurable messages from her body. Her breasts tingled, her legs shivered, and her pussy…
Her pussy exploded, taking her with it. She had barely enough time to shove the side of her hand in her mouth before she cried out in pleasure as the biggest orgasm of her life ripped through her.
She could feel every inch of her contracting around something that had never been inside of her, squeezing her juices out and soaking her panties. She was vaguely aware that her brother was still in the room, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was cumming; her chest heaved and her hips bucked, banging her knees into the desk in a way that would hurt later.
After a thousand years, she pulled the pieces of herself back together and sat up straight.
“Look, Annushka, I’m glad you figured it out, but there’s no reason to fuck with me,” Pyotr said. “Just do the rest later. I’m out of here.”
“O-okay,” Anna said weakly. Pyotr closed the door behind himself.
The moment she was alone, Anna plunged her hand under her dress and into her panties, rubbing wildly at her throbbing crotch. She bit down on her fist as she coaxed first one and then another aftershock orgasm out of herself, finally slumping back in her chair after the third one rolled off her.
“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, pulling her hand out of her panties. It was totally soaked with her leavings, some of it clear and some goopy white. She sucked her fingers one by one and licked her hand clean, starting to catch her breath. She tasted a little saltier than usual, but then nothing about today had been “usual”.
“Fuck, I love physics,” she said.
Timebenders 2: Channel-Surfing, Chapter 10 [timestop nc mf]
Jeremy’s fingers itched.
It was a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. Sitting in the quad, waiting for Pete to show up with his remote, he couldn’t help but look around him at all the potential for fun and mischief. The pockets he could pick, the secrets he could learn, the girls he could have.
Granted, he still had the best girl there was at home, his Princess safe in her tower. But he missed the fire that used to burn in her, and he knew he would see it in some of the girls walking by if he looked.
Part of him started to worry. What if Pyotr didn’t show? What if he did, but he refused to give back the power? What if he turned it over to a professor or the authorities? Jeremy had avoided “playing” with the remote since Mr. Stevens, but he still needed it to keep up the petty thefts that kept him and Petra comfortable, and he felt naked without it.
Pyotr wasn’t the type, he told himself. He was a friend, a true bro. And the potential in him… if Pete could figure out why and how the remote worked, then maybe he could help Jeremy go back. Help him change things for the better. Make Petra fall in love with him the right way, early on. Make sure her father never abused her, never had to be killed.
He had to be killed, of course. It wasn’t an accident. Well, it was. But it was necessary. Jeremy sighed. All he needed was a few changes. And Pete could make it happen.
About the fifth time Jeremy went over the same facts in his head, Pyotr showed up. Jeremy grinned. “Pete!” he exclaimed. “How’d it go?”
Pyotr looked excited but exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. “It is amazing,” he said, setting the box containing the remote on the picnic table between them. “I will admit, I thought you were pulling on my leg when you told me the story of this thing, but truly it is incredible. It has advanced my theories years by eliminating false leads…”
Jeremy nodded. “That’s what I’d hoped.” He leaned forward and reached to slide the box toward himself, fighting not to just yank it jealously to his chest. “I’m glad you had fun.”
Pyotr nodded. “That is one way to certainly put it.”
“Pete,” Jeremy said, looking around and lowering his voice. “Did you happen to do any human testing?”
Pyotr looked down at his hands, but the flush of redness in his ears told Jeremy all he needed to know. “You did!” he said, grinning again. “My man, you gotta tell me what you did, and to who!”
“It is… not so big a thing,” Pyotr said, looking embarrassed. “I just tested some delayed response to stimulus.”
“Heh. Stimulus. I’ll bet.”
Pyotr chuckled. “And maybe watched a girl with her boyfriend.”
“Just watched?”
“Mostly.”
Jeremy laughed, reaching over to clap Pyotr on the shoulder. “My man! That brings back some memories. Ah fuck, it’s been a long time since I used this thing for fun like that.” He opened the box, breathing a little sigh of relief when he saw the remote inside, then pulled it out and started reconnecting his time-glove.
“So that is why you always wear glove,” Pyotr said, watching him. “I had heard you were burned somehow on your hand.”
“Yeah, I let people think that. The glove is a lot quicker to use, and less conspicuous.” He took Pyotr’s hand and stopped time with a gesture, leaving the two of them alone in a silent and frozen world. Popping his ears, he smiled. “So, any breakthroughs yet?”
“Yes and no,” Pyotr replied with a sigh. “I am pretty certain that I know what is happening when the button is pressed. Or at least, I have a good idea. But why and how the button does it, I do not know. It should take a particle collider larger than this school and a nuclear reactor to create this effect, and even then only for a moment and around a single positron. Obviously, that… controller is none of these things.”
“Yeah, that’s about what I figured. I checked the insides, and it’s identical to a regular remote, aside from some of what looks like burn marks on the board.”
“Burn marks? Show me.”
-*-*-
Pyotr wanted to laugh. He stood up and offered the microscope’s eyepiece to Jeremy.
“What am I looking at?” Jeremy asked.
“What does it look like?”
Jeremy shrugged. “Kinda like a city, with skyscrapers and stuff.”
Pyotr nodded. “It looks that way. It is some sort of tiny… something. Circuits, power, whatever. All in the tiniest size. I believe there is circuitry all through those structures. Thousands, millions of connections.”
“What could do that?” Jeremy asked.
“Nothing. It is all too small.”
“Come on, let’s get something to eat.”
-*-*-
Pyotr sat in the cafe with Jeremy, eating sandwiches they had taken from behind the counter. It had seemed a little immoral to him to simply take what they wanted, but Jeremy had dismissed his concerns with a wave of his hand.
“What you’re doing is more important than petty profits in overpriced cafes, Pete,” he’d said. “Scientists need to eat so they can make discoveries that benefit all mankind, don’t they?”
The logic was difficult to argue with, and Pyotr had to admit that he hadn’t had much food or sleep lately, spending what felt like a week in and out of stopped time running experiments and learning everything he could by observation.
“So anyway,” Jeremy said, taking a sip from a soda he’d taken. “If nothing could have made the remote, then how can it exist?”
“I do not know. Any tool made by man is too clumsy at that level. Whoever – whatever – made this thing, they have command of forces I have not heard of.”
“Like the mind?”
Pyotr raised a brow. “How do you mean?”
“The man who had this thing before me could stop time without it. He used his mind, I think.”
Pyotr thought for a moment. “That… makes some sense,” he said finally. “If a mind could command the forces that control time itself, then surely it would be able to rearrange something as simple as atoms.”
“Damn. So it’s hopeless? We can’t make our own?”
Pyotr grinned. “Not at all. The very fact it exists means it can be done. Ours may simply be a little bigger.”
Jeremy slammed his fist on the table in celebration. The sound it made echoed deafeningly in the silent cafe. “Fuck yeah!” he shouted. “Oh man, this calls for a celebration. Here, put this on.”
Pyotr took the glove that Jeremy was handing him. “What is this?” he asked.
“Radio control, my man. Wired to mine. It’ll be like we both have a remote.”
“Very nice,” Pyotr said, pulling the simple black glove over his hand. “Thank you, my friend.”
Jeremy waved his hand. “That’s just to pay you back for being cool about all this. When I say celebrate, I mean… hmm… her.” He nodded toward the cafe’s till. The girl working there was familiar to them both; she was half the reason to go there. She was shorter than them both, so standing across the counter they could easily see the tight cleft of her cleavage, which was usually visible; the top few buttons of her uniform would have flown off if she’d tried to close them. She had wavy, dark brown hair, and just enough make-up to make her acceptably pretty without making her seem like she cared about looking pretty.
“The lunch girl? What of her?”
“Come on, Pete,” Jeremy said, standing. “I know you’ve always wondered.”
Pyotr stood and followed him. “Wondered?”
“What size they are!” he said, climbing over the counter. He started unbuttoning the girl’s top, exposing the overflowing black bra she wore and the top of her midriff. He took a step back and gestured for Pyotr to come closer. “Come check the tag!”
Pyotr hesitated. “Jeremy, I do not know if this is alright to do.”
Jeremy scoffed. “Come on man, she’ll never know! Just one peek.”
Pyotr shrugged, walking around behind the counter. “I suppose one peek would not hurt her.”
Jeremy nodded. “Exactly. So?”
Pyotr stepped behind the girl. Carefully, he slid the shirt off her shoulders. Her skin brushed his fingertips, and he was surprised at how warm she felt. He pulled the shirt down further, exposing her smooth, pale back. He could smell her perfume when he leaned in to read the tag.
“Well?” Jeremy asked.
“Thirty-four… double D.”
Jeremy grinned. “This I gotta see. Pop it.”
“What?”
“The clasp.” Jeremy moved around and reached to undo the girl’s bra, then pulled the straps off her shoulders. “I wanna see these things.”
Pyotr was a little conflicted. Granted, he had watched the girl, Ashley, but that had been for Science. He was testing her responses to his interference. This was recreation.
On the other hand, it was also recreation when he jacked off on Ashley’s face. And neither she nor this girl – Kat, her nametag had said – would know about it. Pyotr walked over next to his friend.
Jeremy took a breath and slowly pulled the bra away from Kat’s skin.
Pyotr had never seen a woman stripped in frozen time. Ashley had stripped down without his help, and the rest of his time had been spent studying the science of the thing, not fooling around with women. So when Kat’s breasts were freed of their bondage, he was a little surprised not to see them burst forth in a surge of flesh. Instead, they stayed in place, almost perfectly round, with a clear indent where the top of the bra had been. Her nipples, tiny bumps in the middle of wide circles of dark pink skin, were pushed flat into the sea of her bosom.
Jeremy chuckled at Pyotr’s dumbfounded awe. “Yeah, it’s always weird the first few times. I still get a little skip in my chest whenever I see a new girl.”
Pyotr tried to look less shocked by the whole situation. “They float,” he said. “Of course they do.”
Jeremy smirked. “Yep.” He reached out and poked Kat’s breast twice, then pressed the side of his hand against it. Pyotr couldn’t suppress the chortle that came when he realized that there was now a smiley face in the girl’s right breast, with her nipple as its button nose.
“You are terrible,” he said. “She will feel that.”
“Sure, but it won’t bother her. Hell, she might even enjoy it.” He pinched the nipple and drew it forth, rolling a finger around it. “You know how they react, you played with one.”
“I… yes. I did touch her, to test how she would react.”
“And?”
“And… she clearly felt very good.”
“Exactly,” Jeremy said, pulling lightly on Kat’s other nipple. “Think of it as a gift. A tip, for being such a good server.”
“A tip.” Pyotr was suddenly very aware of his erection. “Everyone likes a tip.”
Jeremy nodded, pinching both nipples again and rubbing his fingers back and forth along them. “Think that’s enough?”
“I think we should be careful,” Pyotr said, plucking Kat’s bra from the air where Jeremy had left it. “Here, put it back on.”
“One sec,” Jeremy said, stepping back and pulling out his phone. He snapped a picture, then took the bra from Pyotr. “You know, we could leave the bra off… but I think she’d freak out.”
“Just put it back, will you?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
-*-*-
A minute later, relatively speaking, the boys were sitting at their table again, looking in Kat’s direction. She stood at the counter as before, looking bored. Jeremy gave Pyotr a wink and started time.
Kat doubled over with a little shriek of pain, clutching at her chest. “OwowowowowOW,” she said, gasping and using her forearms to subtly rub her apparently aching nipples.
“Whoops,” Jeremy said quietly. “Guess I pinched too hard.”
“You guess??”
“Shhh,” Jeremy hissed. “It’s not like I was trying for that. She’s probably just sensitive.”
Kat stood up straight again, looking around to see if anyone had noticed her problem.
“You alright?” Jeremy called.
Kat turned red. “Yes, thanks. Just… stubbed my toe.”
Jeremy turned back to Pyotr. “Wanna see something real funny? Watch her.”
Pyotr watched. A customer walked up to her, setting some items on the counter to purchase. Kat rang them up on her till, then turned to the man to take his money.
She stuttered a little, almost losing balance, as her big, suddenly braless breasts bounced down inside her shirt. They were firm enough to stay pretty perky, and even from where he sat, Pyotr could see the shape of her nipples through the thin fabric.
The customer clearly saw the same thing, but stayed polite and handed over his money. He was clearly fighting not to stare, which was even more difficult when Kat’s breasts suddenly bounced up at him again. He thanked her and retreated quickly without his change, heading briskly out of the cafe.
Jeremy was biting his hand, trying not to laugh. On the table next to him sat Kat’s stolen bra. Pyotr felt himself blushing again, then felt a little pang of worry as he realized that Jeremy could freeze time without bringing him along.
There was a sudden sort of shift, and the bra was gone. Jeremy sat in a slightly different position, smiling at him. Pyotr looked again at Kat, who was peeking down her shirt at her now returned bra incredulously.
“Aw man,” he said, “that gets ‘em every time.”
Pyotr shook his head, unable to suppress a smile. “I must admit, it is amusing, but an abuse of this power.”
Jeremy shrugged. “Nobody got hurt. It’s fine. What good is power if you don’t explore it?”
Pyotr was about to say something when Jeremy stood up and tossed something to him. “Come on,” he said. “Fuck, I missed this.”
Pyotr stared down at the panties that his friend had tossed to him, then at Jeremy, then at Kat. “You are a terrible person,” he joked.
“Maybe, but I’m a terrible person who knows how to live.”
“This, I cannot deny.”
-*-*-
Jeremy leaned on the cold brick of the main school building, looking up at the stars. Every now and then, a tiny green light would flash on the edge of his vision: his glove, receiving a command from Pyotr’s remote uplink. “Good man,” he said softly.
Pyotr was a genius, and he would almost certainly figure this thing out. But the way he was now, there was no way he’d let Jeremy use it for selfish means. Hell, he almost hadn’t let him have fun with Kat at all. Not that he could have stopped it from happening; the moment Jeremy laid eyes on those big, fat tits, he’d wanted Kat. Wanted to touch her, see her, and use her. To take out on her the frustration of living with a shadow of the woman he really wanted, the living ghost that Petra had become.
Oh sure, she let him fuck her anytime he wanted. But her heart wasn’t in it. Try as he might, in over a year he hadn’t been able to make the fire-haired Goddess fall in love with him and forget about how he accidentally killed her father.
Things would be different when Pyotr made him a proper machine. He would go back, make Petra fall for him. She would cum every time she saw him if that was what it took to trick her mind into releasing those chemicals. And when she loved him, she wouldn’t let her father touch her, and Jeremy wouldn’t have to kill him.
Jeremy’s thoughts were interrupted by the faint ringing of the bell over the cafe door, over near the other end of the building. Kat walked out, then turned around to lock the door and abruptly stopped moving as Jeremy triggered the command to stop time.
He sauntered over toward her, in no particular rush. It had been a year and change since he’d done anything like this, and he intended to enjoy it. He let his eyes wander over Kat’s body as he approached, appreciating the curve of her chest, the slight arch of her back when she’d bent forward to key the lock, the equally voluptuous shape of her ass in those tight black pants she wore.
He reached out as he approached, touching her back and shoulder and making her stand up straight. She was still wearing the button-up shirt of her cafe uniform under a gray cardigan, which Jeremy immediately began sliding off of her shoulder.
He ran a hand down her side and up again, admiring her figure. Another thing Petra didn’t have was a lot of extra flesh. She had been a track-and-field girl before, thin and powerful. In the many months since she’d become his, she had wasted away a little, cut her hair short, and just generally not filled out or made efforts to be feminine. Kat, on the other hand, had a round ass, great tits, and dark hair that spilled over her shoulders like water.
Jeremy unbuttoned her shirt, opening it further with each button, exposing once again the bra that held her incredible tits up and together and the pale skin of her midriff. She wasn’t a skinny girl by any stretch of the imagination, but neither was she fat; she was at that thin edge where a girl could be “thick” but still look healthy, and it made Jeremy’s dick stiffen in his pants immediately.
After the last button was open, Jeremy moved on to Kat’s pants. He unbuttoned and unzipped them, then stopped and laughed. There they were, the panties he’d stolen and given to Pete. Which meant that his friend had stopped time after he left and returned them to her.
Of course, it also meant that he’d stripped her down and seen her body. Jeremy was a little proud of the guy. He’d lose that pesky moral hang-up fast.
Jeremy pushed the pants down and off, letting his fingers trail over Kat’s legs as he went. He left little impressions, canals in the flesh of her thighs, where he touched her. The shoes had to go as well, so when he stood up again Kat was dressed only in matching black socks, panties, and her bra.
Jeremy looked around, taking off his own shirt and pants. He wanted to do this right. Perfect, the hill in the middle of campus was almost devoid of bodies. He put an arm around Kat’s waist, lifting her off the ground and pushing to float her over to the grassy hill.
It was a warm night, and he felt great with the air on his skin, even if there was no wind. His feet left shallow prints in the soft grass, and the light from the moon and the streetlamps shone on his new toy’s skin.
That was what she was, after all. For the time being, Kat was Jeremy’s personal plaything. He pulled her down to the grass and sat next to her, pulling his dick out of his pants and using one of her hands to stroke himself while he got comfortable.
He pulled Kat on top of himself, biting her neck once, leaving a perfect impression of his teeth. “Mine,” he said, shoving her downward. Making her lay between his legs, he lowered her head down and slid his dick between her lips.
Jeremy moaned, pushing Kat down deep until he could feel the back of her throat. From his angle, with a slight tip of the chin, it looked like she was looking lovingly up at him while she serviced him. He took her head in his hands, guiding it up and down slowly, savoring the wet warmth of her tongue, the gentle tickle of her teeth along his shaft, and the way her narrow throat teased, promising even more pleasure if he would just push a little harder.
Instead, Jeremy pulled her up and rolled her over on her back. He straddled her ribcage, rubbing the tip of his cock against the underside of her cleavage like he was teasing her pussy.
Her flesh parted to let him in, so he pushed forward, sliding his cock between Kat’s big, pillowy tits with a groan of pleasure. Kat started unblinking up at him, mouth wide, but with gentle pressure to her chin she was soon smiling up at him. Go ahead, she seemed to be saying with her eyes. Enjoy me.
The bra – a size too small, in Jeremy’s opinion – held her together. Her breasts squeezed his dick as he pumped balls-deep into them, holding her shoulders to keep her in place.
The only sounds on the hill, hell in the whole world, were Jeremy’s breathing and the slap of his hips and balls on Kat’s flesh. Both increased in speed, as Jeremy drew closer to his inevitable release.
“Oh yeah, baby,” Jeremy breathed, “your tits feel so fuckin’ good. I bet you love doing shit like this, don’t you, you whore, you- nnhg!”
Thrusting harder, Jeremy started cumming hard. His load streamed out, heavy and thick, filling the air between Kat’s tits and her chin.
Jeremy pulled back slowly, panting and rolling over next to her, waiting for his heart to slow. Then he looked at her and laughed.
There was cum plastered over Kat’s collarbone and between her tits. Even more hovered threateningly over her, ready to launch itself forward at any moment.
Jeremy gently tipped Kat’s face down toward the load, then started time. The cum splashed onto her skin, and she gasped in shock at the vertigo of being moved and the sudden sensations of being stripped, fondled, and used in the space of a millisecond. Pausing time once more, Jeremy took another picture of her for his records, then leaned back on the hill again to take a nap.
When he awoke, nothing had changed. Kat was still lying by his side in her underwear, covered in cum. He was still dressed only in his shorts with his cock hanging out the front.
Well, not exactly hanging. It seemed he was already back in action. Jeremy got up off the grass, moving down to where he could lift Kat’s hips in the air and sliding her panties down off of her once more.
He really hadn’t taken the time to admire her pussy before, a simple little opening beneath a smoothly-shaved mound of flesh between firm, thick thighs. He took the time now, rubbing a finger along the length of her slit before kneeling between her legs and lowering Kat’s ass to the grass once again.
He lifted her torso enough to unfasten and remove her bra, then used her panties to scrape some of his cum off her face. The look of confused shock was still frozen across her features, and it suited him just fine. Jeremy reached down and pressed himself to her entrance, slowly pushing forward.
Kat’s puss opened easily to Jeremy’s pressure, letting him ease the tip of his cock inside her. She was hot inside, just moist enough to let him slide through, and he fed inch after inch of himself into her until he could feel her womb with the tip of his weapon.
He took a moment to savor the sensation of her wrapped around him, but only a moment. There was no need for a slow build-up with his plaything, no need for endless foreplay. She was his to use, and use her he would.
Drawing back, Jeremy thrust in again. Kat had already loosened up from his first passing, but she still felt gloriously moist and warm, and the look on her face as he fucked her was perfect. He braced on the ground with one hand, using the other to grope at her tits while his thrusts pushed her body into the flattened bed of grass. His cum glistened between her tits, betraying her as the well-used whore he’d made of her, and his mind spun into fantasies of her, brainwashed into servitude, begging for more of his cum to satisfy her cravings, desperately trying to please him with her body.
Jeremy pulled out and turned Kat over on her front, straddling her thighs. He spread her ass cheeks and lined himself up, pushing slowly into the tiny opening of her ass. It was even tighter than her pussy had been, but he was able to force every inch of himself inside her.
Kneeling there in the grass, with both hands on her hips to steady her, Jeremy fucked Kat’s asshole mercilessly. Memories flooded back to Jeremy: using Natalia Wexler, fucking Sarah Stevens’ thighs right in front of her husband, teasing a MILF at a campsite, cumming on a bitchy woman in a bank… it was the greatest feeling there was. The power, the pleasure, the ocean of flesh awaiting him at every turn. And he’d denied that just because of a stupid accident.
Jeremy slammed down into Kat’s ass so hard he could almost see the shape of her hipbones. He shoved the flesh of her buttcheeks down and thrust in again and again, but she was loosening up too much for him to be really happy with it.
Pulling back, Jeremy moved down a couple inches and shoved himself into Kat’s still-gaping pussy. Then he pulled her out of time, making her come to life face-down on the grassy hill with her head pinned under his palm.
He didn’t hesitate a moment; as soon as Kat’s cunt tightened around him, Jeremy started fucking her once more, driving down into her cunt like a hammer. She squirmed and pulled at the ground and kicked at the air, but all that did was make her ass, thighs, and pussy squeeze and rub him more as he forced himself again and again inside of her.
He thought she might be screaming or crying, but he wasn’t sure, because his own primal growl of pleasure blocked her out. He slammed down again and again, each time grinding into her as he felt his cum begin to shoot up into her womb.
Finally, spent and exhausted, Jeremy froze Kat again and collapsed on top of her. He could feel his cum inside of her, filling her passage and ready to leak out of her well-used hole.
Pulling out slowly, Jeremy sighed in relaxation. He had needed that more than he’d realized. Needed to feel like a King once more, like the world served him and his whims. He used Kat’s panties to clean his dick off again, then slid them back onto her, along with her bra, although he made no effort to clean up the cum on her tits or in her pussy.
He was tempted to just leave her there, but thought better of it. Best not to draw too much attention to himself. Instead, he went back down the hill for their clothing, dressing first her and then himself.
-*-*-
Kat finally caught her breath enough to scream. She pushed off the ground and rolled onto her ass, sitting in the grass and looking around. There was nobody on top of her, nobody holding her, and she was fully dressed. Footsteps moved swiftly toward her.
“Hey, are you alright?” a voice asked. She looked up. It was that guy from the cafe before, who’d seen her have that weird seizure or whatever.
Kat swallowed and nodded. “I… think so?”
The guy offered her his hand. “Can you walk? I saw you were napping on the hill when I walked by before, but then you screamed, so I came back as fast as I could. Do you need some help?”
Kat shook her head. “I think I’m okay,” she said, grabbing his wrist and letting him help her to her feet. Her knees were shaking, and her insides felt sore, but otherwise she seemed to be okay. Could she really have dreamed all that? “Thanks.”
The guy smiled. “No trouble. I can walk you home if you want.”
“No, I think… I think I’m alright,” she replied.
There was a sudden sensation of vertigo, and Kat whimpered at a shooting pain in her nipples. “Are you sure?” the guy asked, looking concerned.
“Yeah, I can make it. I just need to rest.”
“Alrighty. I’m Jeremy, by the way. I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. I’ll seeya.”
-*-*-
Kat sighed in relief when the door of her apartment closed behind her. She stripped down, leaving a trail of clothing on her way to the bathroom. She was about to get in the shower when she felt a squish against her thigh, so she detoured to the mirror.
She looked exhausted, for sure, but more than that, something was wrong. She leaned in for a closer look.
There was something between her tits, dripping down now that she’d tossed away her bra. Something shiny and sticky. And she felt some more of the same on her thighs.
She looked back at her panties on the floor, covered in sticky white cum that she’d thought was just her imagination, and her knees fell out from under her.
Timebenders 2: Channel-Surfing, Chapter 9 [timestop nc mf]
#*Sorry so late again! I suck. Busy week. I bought a car!*
—–
The sun was shining, birds were singing, and Pyotr was headed to meet his best friend for lunch.
They had met in their first semester at University, and had been inseparable for nearly a year. It was a great feeling, having a “bro” to count on, after so many years pretty much alone in high school with nobody but his sisters to confide in. It had been even worse when he came to America for school, knowing nobody on the whole continent and having to navigate a new culture along with his studies.
But Jeremy was different. He was a true friend, always willing to lend an ear, and with infinite patience for Pyotr’s sometimes-thick accent. Pyotr felt like he could tell Jeremy everything, and in fact he pretty much had done so. Sometimes they would just talk or play video games for what felt like hours, but afterward only minutes would have passed. Jeremy had suggested that they just enjoyed hanging out so much that time felt different, but Pyotr had a different theory.
Pyotr was a physics student. Jeremy was more into electronics and computer science, so sometimes he didn’t see the same things that Pyotr saw. To him, the world was made up of logic and flow charts. But Pyotr’s world was filled with uncertainty on the quantum level. And uncertainty meant possibilities. Like the possibility of proving that the differing perception of passage of time could be more than just in the mind.
With Jeremy’s help, he would do it one day. He would build a time machine.
-*-*-
Pyotr spotted his friend sitting at one of the outdoor benches and headed over. He was excited to discuss the new book he’d been reading about relativity, but a flash of red in the sun made him put that on the back burner. Petra was out today.
Petra was Jeremy’s girlfriend. They had been living together for as long as Pyotr had known them. Jeremy was completely devoted to her; he called her his Princess. It was a sweet story: they’d grown up next door, been high school sweethearts, and moved away to go to school together, escaping her cruel father and overbearing mother.
There was something sad about Petra that Pyotr could never quite put his finger on, however. Something in the way her face would go blank when she wasn’t doing anything and when nobody was talking to her. Pyotr thought maybe there was more to the story, that she’d had something really bad happen in her past, but he really didn’t want to pry.
Petra tended to have bouts of depression that kept her indoors sometimes, but when she came out on the campus it was always a little brighter of a day. The lunches she made were delicious, and just being around her made Pyotr feel a little happy. He didn’t have a crush on her himself, of course. He just liked her as a friend, and he loved to see her and Jeremy together.
“Hey, Pete,” Jeremy said, smiling and gesturing to the seat opposite himself and his girlfriend. “Have a seat. We brought extra.”
Pyotr sat down and grabbed a sandwich from a plate on the table. “Thanks. You make these, Petra?”
“She did,” Jeremy said, patting her hand on the table. “She’s been feeling a lot better lately.”
“That’s great to hear. I’m sure everyone missed you.”
Petra smiled. “Thanks, Pyotr,” she said.
“Is nothing. Jeremy, I wanted to tell you about the book I am reading.” He bit into the sandwich, taking a moment to enjoy the taste or perfectly-mixed tuna and mayo. “Mm. That’s good. So anyway, this book… it’s got some really exciting theories. The author thinks that if you could find a way to generate a strong enough neutrino bubble, you could make a small machine slide out of sync with Earth’s time, since it would bend the gravity waves around it.”
Jeremy raised a brow. “You know, I really think you’ll get it done. You understand so much more of this stuff than me.”
“Do not worry, I will still need someone to build the machine. We will do it together!”
Jeremy grinned. “You know, speaking of time machines… I think it’s about time I showed you something. But you have to keep it a secret.”
“You know I can keep a secret.”
“Well… it’s a pretty big secret. Petra, why don’t you head home while I fill my bro here in on a few things.”
-*-*-
“You are messing with me.”
“I swear I’m not. It works, I just don’t know how.”
“So you have a device that manipulates time. You have had it over one year. And you are just now telling me this?”
“It’s not exactly something we like to advertise. And I don’t use it all that often. I can’t get it to run in reverse without almost killing me, and there’s just too much risk involved. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”
“And you think I can figure it out?”
“Pyotr, you’re a genius. I know you can figure this stuff out. I want to lend it to you for a little while, see what you come up with.” He placed a small cardboard box on the table between them. “Never mind the wires in the back. I added them so I could plug in a control device.”
Pyotr took the box, nodding solemnly. “Your secret is safe with me. I will see what I can do.”
-*-*-
Pyotr chuckled to himself, sitting in the grass on a little hill overlooking the campus. Imagine, a second-year Comp Sci student having the secret to time control in a box. What a laugh. He’d played along to see how far Jeremy was willing to go; clearly there was some sort of punchline coming. He just didn’t know what it was yet.
The box held two items: a notebook, and a remote control. The notebook was a plain gray one with a spiral spine, and the remote was one of the old universal ones that people used to spend hours trying to set up so they wouldn’t need a second control to use a VCR.
Pyotr laughed, flipping through the notebook. According to the notes, the remote could control time. What a ludicrous idea. It worked like an old VCR, too. Pause, Play, Fast Forward, Frame Skip, Rewind… although rewind was apparently very limited.
Pyotr rolled his eyes. A device like this, if it was real, would have changed everything. It also would’ve probably either killed its user or everyone else. What with the speed of the Earth’s movement and the risk of whiplash to anyone you so much as bumped into, not to mention the sonic booms you’d leave everywhere behind you. Pyotr’s dream had been to travel from one point in time to another. This was another level of fantasy beyond it. Still, he thought, it was fun to imagine. He picked up the remote, pointed it out at the campus, and pressed Pause.
The silence was what hit him first. Nobody really notices the amount of noise they live with day to day; it’s just a background ambience. The silence washed over Pyotr like a wave, deafening and at the same time clear and relieving. His ears popped, filling with the sound of his own breathing.
Pyotr stood up and took a step. The grass where he’d been didn’t spring back up; there was a perfect impression left where he’d sat. A few yards away, a bird hung in the air, frozen on its approach to a tree branch. And down the hill, dozens of students stood perfectly still.
Not stood, he realized as he walked toward them. Very few were actually standing with both feet planted on the ground. Most were in the middle of walking from one place to another, halted mid-stride by some unknown force. Halted by Pyotr, and the remote.
“Bozhe moi,” Pyotr whispered, walking out onto the sidewalk and waving his hand in front of a student’s unblinking face. “It actually works.”
-*-*-
Pyotr was a scientist before anything else. He established a safety, starting and stopping time several times to ensure that he had the effect under control, then began taking notes on the properties of the phenomenon.
Inertia seemed to be conserved in objects almost at the moment they left contact with him. A ball thrown would stop less than an inch from his hand, hanging in the air, but would resume moving when time started. A ball placed in the air would hang there, dropping to the ground when time re-exerted itself. But if the ball was stopped and picked up, then placed somewhere else, its inertia would vanish, a puzzle that perplexed Pyotr to no end. The laws of time might be broken, but that didn’t mean the laws of thermodynamics no longer applied.
Even worse, Pyotr found that if he just nudged an object instead of grabbing it, he could change its position without changing its direction. He could push a dart into position to make it hit a bull’s-eye, or even turn it around with two fingertips to make it fly back the way it came, but the moment his hand closed around it, its motion died completely. It seemed to support the idea he’d read about with the neutrino bubble; as long as an object remained at least outside his field of effect, it behaved as normal, but once he exerted enough effect on its surface it slipped out of time with him. The effect worked the same with large objects, provided he had two hands on the object, and he wondered for a moment just how large of a thing he might manage to move, since gravity was no longer making any sort of lifting difficult. It was a lot like what he imagined it would be like to live in microgravity, except that anything he let go of would stop moving, and he couldn’t float around.
The experimentation was slow and deliberate, and Pyotr soon found himself rubbing his eyes wearily. He hadn’t had a lot of sleep the night before, and now that he’d been in and out of stopped time for a few hours he was starting to get tired. He walked back to the hill where he’d originally used the remote, leaving footprints in the grass, and laid down in the sun to take a nap.
The sun was still shining when he awoke. According to his watch, five hours had passed. He stretched and rubbed his face, then stopped in surprise. He ran his hand up and down his cheek. There was no hair growth at all. He’d been using the remote long enough for at least half a day to pass, relatively speaking, and yet his hair hadn’t grown, which seemed to indicate that he was no longer aging while he used the device, which was just impossible.
And nothing excites a theoretical physicist more than seeing the impossible.
Pyotr did every test he could think of, moving solids, liquids, and gases, measuring the movement of a sunbeam to establish that time was in fact stopped and not slowed, picking up objects to bring them out of time, and even testing whether an insect on his arm and in his hand would be stopped along with him.
There was really only one thing left to do: human experimentation.
Pyotr was dying to test how people reacted to non-temporal stimuli. He went out onto the campus again, looking around at all the students and faculty who were trying to go about their day. He had never been a big fan of unethical experimentation, of course, but then he had never held the greatest discovery in human history in his hands, either.
The basics were simple to test. Pyotr knew from Jeremy’s instructions that bumping or moving someone wouldn’t cause fatal whiplash, which was a definite concern. Changing people’s poses – an arm raised or lowered, for instance – seemed to confuse but not alarm them; they would behave as though they had experienced a twitch or muscle spasm when time started again. Moving someone to a slightly different position caused disorientation and mild dizziness. Interestingly, it was easy to move someone back to their original position and posture; Pyotr suspected it had something to do with the vacuum of displaced air where they were removed from, but the effect was strong enough that perhaps other forces were at work as well.
Checking his notes, he realized that he was going to have to be more invasive to actually view responses in the test subjects. First he tried “appearing and disappearing” – standing in the middle of a crowded area, he started time and then stopped it a second later. Several people seemed to notice that someone had been where he was, but nobody really made much of it. They didn’t fully realize what they’d seen, but anyone walking toward the place where he had appeared veered around as if avoiding an invisible person.
Auditory stimulation was less successful. Since all the noise he made was compressed into an instant, Pyotr was unable to make anyone notice more than what was probably a loud burst of sound, like a thump or a click.
However, tactile stimulus was very noticeable in his subjects. He tried tapping shoulders, nudging elbows, brushing a hand across a cheek. In all cases, the subjects felt as though someone had touched them, some even looking around for whoever it was.
Pyotr sat on a picnic table, eating french fries from an unwary student’s cafeteria tray and pondering the situation. He certainly wasn’t a Behavioral Studies major, but it was still intriguing to test people’s reactions, and the things they noticed or didn’t notice might prove useful in understanding what was going on when he used the remote.
A young couple standing under a tree nearby caught his eye. The boy was in the middle of saying something; the girl was clearly paying attention, but did not seem terribly interested. Pyotr’s mind raced with ideas for how he might test their reactions as he set the fries down and stood.
-*-*-
Ashley clenched her jaw a little tighter, fighting not to roll her eyes and holding her plastered-on smile. She really hated guys like Brad: entitled, self-absorbed, ignorant morons. Sadly, that was the price she’d have to pay if she wanted a boyfriend who could afford to give her the things she wanted. And Brad was definitely a good candidate in that respect.
All the boxes were checked off. His family was rich. He had access to his trust account. He wasn’t ugly or gross; in fact he was handsome, if you were into broad shoulders and square jawlines. Ashley preferred long hair, full lips, and a D-cup, but that was irrelevant. Besides, just because she was dating a jock didn’t mean she couldn’t play with her girlfriends when they were alone.
Still, the conversation was never-ending. It had hurt trying not to roll her eyes before when he went on about fantasy football, but now he had digressed to some backward hick rant about Mexicans and refugees. If he would just get it over with and ask her out, she could be free of this torture.
It was her own fault, she reflected. With her long blonde hair, fair skin, and thin body, she could have just flirted her way into Brad’s pants, and by extension his wallet. But that would mean putting out a lot, and she really didn’t want to do that. No, she had to be the listener, the confidante, the cute girl he could talk to. Laugh at his jokes, smile, seem interested, and he’d spend all his time boring her instead of groping her. She thought she’d found a loophole, a way out of the game, but right now she was envying some of the other girls who just acted dumb and let the guys fuck them.
She was just contemplating bailing out of the conversation when something happened. For some reason, she had a sudden picture in her mind of Brad with no shirt on. It was weird; almost like, for a split second, he’d been bare-chested, but still carried on talking to her.
Brad didn’t seem to notice anything, of course. Ashley rubbed her eyes. She must be getting tired; it wasn’t like her to have fantasies about men without-
“Hey Ash, you okay?” Brad said.
Ashley shook her head, feeling the heat in her cheeks and forehead. “I’m fine,” she lied.
“Good. Anyway, the wall will-”
Ashley took a deep breath, willing herself to stop blushing. There was no way this was happening. No way had she just fantasized about Brad Pinkton naked, with sunlight bringing out every edge and curve of his muscular body. No way had she just imagined his cock, so close she could just reach out and touch it.
A breeze or something blew by, and Ashley shivered. She could feel her nipples stiffening, poking into the padding of the push-up bra she wore to “accent” her curves. That in itself was bizarre; she usually couldn’t feel the wind through the padded cups. Even stranger, it felt warm, like someone had been rubbing and pinching her breasts instead of just the air moving across them.
The chill was barely gone when her brain messed with her again. This time, Brad was naked again, but his cock was standing at attention. It was much longer and thicker than before, with a slight upward curve. At the same time, she felt a tingling between her legs, as if something had brushed across her pussy.
She blinked, and the vision was gone. The bulge in Brad’s pants, on the other hand, was very real. She could see it outlined against his upper thigh, and it looked like her imagination wasn’t far from the truth with regards to his size.
Biting her bottom lip, Ashley stepped closer. “Hey Brad,” she heard herself say, “you wanna get outta here?”
-*-*-
Pyotr chuckled to himself. He’d had no idea that people were so easy to manipulate. Granted, it was hardly difficult to convince University students to have sex, but still, it took almost no effort at all to convince the girl, Ashley, that she was interested in her companion Brad’s body. Just a couple of flashes and a little stimulation. As for Brad, well, all Pyotr had to do was show Ashley’s breasts to him for a second and he was apparently ready to go.
Pyotr followed as they walked quickly toward the parking lot and Brad’s large black SUV. When they got in and closed the doors, he stopped time and entered the back seat. After all, a good scientist must document all the results of his experiments. Besides, what man turns down a free show?
-*-*-
Ashley moaned, leaning back in the big passenger’s seat. Brad was driving with only his left hand, taking her somewhere – she didn’t know or care where – while his right was in her panties, two big fingers pumping slowly into her pussy. She was soaking them and her panties already, although a part of her still wondered why she was even doing this.
Brad pulled her hand over and wrapped it around his dick. Ashley started stroking him without thinking about it, opening her eyes and looking over at him. He was eerily similar to her fantasy, right down to that upward curve, and he was rock hard already. She stroked a little faster, moaning again as she felt her pleasure building.
Suddenly, just as she was almost there, Brad pulled his hand away. He reached up and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her down toward his lap and guiding her mouth down around his cock. Ashley started to pull back, groaning in annoyance at his selfishness.
She managed to get as far as the tip when something washed over her. It felt like every inch of her body was softly caressed at the same time. Her skin broke out in goosebumps, sending a shiver up her spine.
The shiver was followed by a jolt of pleasure radiating out from her crotch. Ashley moaned and sucked Brad’s cock back into her mouth, breathing fast through her nose as the haze of cumming pushed out her thoughts. By the time it passed, she found herself bobbing up and down, stroking Brad’s length with her lips, tongue, and fingers, while Brad’s hand on her head guided her to go faster and deeper.
Ashley lost track of how long she was down there, sucking, stroking, smearing Brad to the base with her spit as he tried to reach her throat. She kept her fingers in the way so he couldn’t gag her, but it was a near thing even with her hand there.
Finally, just as her jaw was getting tired, Brad pulled over and let her up. “Backseat,” he demanded, kicking off his shoes and shoving his pants down onto the floor of the cab.
Ashley pushed turned and crawled between the seats. On her way past, Brad grabbed the waist of her jeans, so she let him pull them off, revealing her ass and her little red thong.
She barely had time to get onto the seat before Brad followed her, pulling off her top and pushing her down on her back, kissing her hard and grinding his cock against the damp spot on her panties. He pushed her bra up and cupped one of her tits, squeezing it greedily, then reached down to pull her panties to the side, spreading her thighs and pressing his tip to her entrance.
“Mh.. w-wait, do you have a-” Ashley tried to object, but her words turned into cries of pleasure. Her pussy was on fire; it felt like the best vibrator in the world had just kissed her clit. She came again, shivering all over, hips bucking up reflexively.
Brad took advantage of the reflex, grabbing her by the hipbones and thrusting. Ashley cried louder as she felt herself stretch open, squeezing tight around every inch but too slick to even slow him down. Brad sank to the hilt, and Ashley could feel him pushing on the back of her passage before he pulled back and thrust in again.
-*-*-
Pyotr stopped time and adjusted himself. There was nothing worse than getting an erection when you couldn’t move to fix it, and no living man could have watched this without getting one. He shifted, stretching his legs and moving out of his hiding place on the floor of the front seat, crawling in back to get a closer look.
It still took surprisingly little “convincing” to get his subjects to keep escalating their encounter. Brad had needed none at all. Ashley, on the other hand, was clearly reluctant. When Brad shoved himself in her mouth, she had nearly ended it, but Pyotr’s intervention had overwhelmed her so much that she’d sucked him like a whore. All he’d done was trail his fingers all over her skin, then rubbed between her legs for a minute or so.
The second time Ashley had objected, Pyotr went with a more localized response. He’d moved Brad out of the way and sat, reading a book on his phone while one hand slowly and gently teased Ashley’s clitoris. He had no idea how long he’d done it for, but for Ashley it was a mere instant, and she had responded dramatically. He would have to remember that trick; women would probably appreciate a man who could make them cum in an instant.
Of course, all this observation and teasing was not without its toll. Pyotr’s cock ached in his jeans, straining to be free and leaving a little sticky spot on the inside of his thigh. He reached up and cupped Ashley’s breast, rubbing the front of his jeans while he considered the situation.
Oh well, he thought as he unzipped and started to stroke himself. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t already tainted the results of the experiment.
He knelt on the front seat, unpausing time and watching as Brad started pumping into Ashley. There was no slow build-up, either; the man went right to work, thrusting in and out, each grunt and thrust met with a cry or a moan from the girl.
They clumsily pulled her bra off, and Brad arched his back so he could suck on Ashley’s little pink nipples while he drove into her harder. Ashley’s face shifted rapidly between a masque of pleasure and a wince of pain, and Pyotr had to wonder if she was used to such forceful treatment from such a well-endowed man. Something told him she wasn’t, and the thought of it made his own dick throb in his hand.
Pyotr matched Brad’s thrusts with his own strokes, watching as the man pulled Ashley’s legs around his waist and started grinding harder into her, crushing her body under his own and moaning next to her ear.
“Baby here it comes,” Brad moaned. His thrusts got faster and became more erratic.
Ashley, apparently in the midst of her own climax, grabbed his sides and pushed back. Brad got the hint and pulled out, grabbing his cock and rapidly pumping it and groaning loudly.
Pyotr stopped time and crawled in the back seat again. It seemed that his timing was perfect; there was an inch of white cum protruding from Brad’s cock already, frozen in the air. Pyotr turned away from him and knelt over Ashley’s body.
Even in disarray like this, she was quite beautiful. Her hair had spilled across the seat under her like a golden sheet, and the sweat on her skin caught the sun in a way that made it seem like a spotlight was shining on her. Her small breasts were thrust toward the heavens; she’d been panting and frozen in the middle of a deep breath. And down between her legs, her shaved pussy glistened, coated in her own lubricants.
Pyotr’s breath caught in his throat; he realized he was still stroking his cock and was dangerously close to cumming. In fact, there was no time to stop. Stroking faster, he shot hard; streams of cum flew from him and froze in mid-air, hovering over Ashley’s face and breasts.
Pyotr sat back on his heels, breathing hard. He wiped the sweat from his brow, then took a minute to catch his breath.
There were three long strands of fluid extending from where he’d been and two shorter ones. Pyotr made a note to determine the relationship between speed and distance travelled when objects left his control, since it suggested a set amount of relative time until things froze. He readjusted, zipped up, and got into the front seat, once more peeking carefully to watch Brad and Ashley as he started time.
Pyotr’s cum hit Ashley first, landing on her face and breast with an audible splat and making her flinch in surprise. Brad’s load followed, thoroughly covering her chest and stomach.
“Whew, babe, that was great,” Brad said, leaning back on the side door.
Ashley wiped Pyotr’s cum off her face and looked up at Brad. “Y-yeah… I guess it was, wasn’t it?”
Timebenders 2: Channel-Surfing, Chapter 8 [timestop nc mf]
*Sorry for the late post! It slipped my mind yesterday. Enjoy!*
——-
“So it was an accident?” Petra asked, peering down at the screen. “That doesn’t seem very likely.”
Jake shook his head. “Something’s wrong with this. It says I… he… was displaying ‘erratic behavior’ and then just ran out into the street.”
Petra sighed. “There’s just not enough information.”
Jake leaned back in his chair and stretched. Petra’s hunch had been correct; a quick trip to one of the library’s computers had yielded an obituary with the date of death for his other self. There were a couple news articles, too, but the details were sparse.
“Hey wait!” Petra pointed at the article. “Scroll down a little.”
“He is survived by his wife, Sarah, and daughter Petra?”
“I’m alive!” Petra exclaimed. “So where the hell am I?”
“I dunno, Pet. Your room in the house looked like a shrine. Layers of dust, nothing changed since high school. You must have left in a hurry.”
“So where the hell did I go?”
-*-*-
Petra’s eyes snapped open. It took her a moment to realize that she’d been woken up by a loud noise; a door slamming open. It took her another moment to remember that she was tied up in an RV.
Jeremy barely even looked at her. He stormed past to the little table that he used as a workbench and ripped off his time control glove. “Shit,” he said. “Shit shit shit shit shit.”
“Whassa matter, dickhead?” Petra asked, shifting herself up into a more dignified sitting position. “You walk in on your dad blowing the mailman or something?”
Jeremy yanked the wires out of his sleeve and put them on the table, along with the little box that had once been Petra’s father’s time-controlling remote control. “Petra, please, can we not do this? I have to fix this… Maybe I can go back if I do.”
“Fix what? Did your shitty solder job fall apart on you?”
“YES!” Jeremy yelled, slamming his fist on the table. Petra flinched. “Yes, okay? The solder failed, a wire came loose, and things… didn’t go well, okay?”
Petra sneered. “Good. I hope you get caught, and they throw you away for life.”
Jeremy growled and shoved his chair back, raising his hand. He was close enough to reach her, and Petra closed her eyes, but the slap never came. When she opened them again, Jeremy was lowering his arm slowly into his lap.
“Look, I’m… I’m sorry,” Jeremy said, looking down. “Alright? I’m fucking sorry for how this all went down. It wasn’t supposed to… well, things were supposed to go different, that’s all.”
Petra frowned. There was something in Jeremy’s voice that suddenly had her worried. “What happened?” she asked quietly.
“I’ll tell you in the morning,” he said. “If I can’t fix it.”
-*-*-
Jeremy worked for a couple of hours, and finally thought he’d managed to fix his glove. He went to sleep in the back of the RV, and dreamed of nothingness. Some hours later, he woke up, feeling completely unrested. A radio was playing quietly, and someone was crying. Someone young, female…
“Oh god, Petra,” he whispered, pushing himself violently off the bed and running out to her.
Petra was sitting on the floor, which made sense since she couldn’t really go anywhere. Her eyes were red, and tears were streaming down her face.
“Petra, I-”
“Is it true?” she asked. “The alarm turned on the radio. There was a news report. Is he really-”
“Yes,” Jeremy said softly, stepping toward her. “Yes, Petra, it’s true. Your father is dead. I tried to save him, but-”
Petra’s sobs broke out into a wail, cutting him off. She slumped back and slid down the wall, moving her head forward and back, thumping her skull on the faux wood paneling.
“Baby, baby, stop,” Jeremy said, kneeling down and gathering her into his arms. “You’ll hurt yourself. He wouldn’t have wanted you to hurt yourself.”
He wasn’t sure what to expect next. Holding Petra hadn’t been something he’d planned; it had just happened. His girl was in pain, and he needed to help. But when she got heavier, and he realized she was actually leaning into his grip, Jeremy’s heart skipped a beat.
“Shush now,” he said, stroking her beautiful hair. “You’ll be okay. Let me take care of you.”
Petra’s head bowed, and her sobbing softened to an occasional sniffle. Jeremy kept holding her. He would hold her as long as she needed him to.
After all, that was what a good boyfriend did.
-*-*-
The next few weeks were difficult. Jeremy reinforced his glove with hardier materials so he could be certain it wouldn’t ever fail again. At his request, Petra penned a couple of letters; one to her mother and one to the police. They were heartfelt and mostly true, stating that she had left home and wouldn’t be coming back for a while but that she was healthy and safe.
Of course, attending the funeral was impossible, but Jeremy got some pictures and a copy of the obituary for Petra so she could say goodbye. After that, she seemed to calm down a little, accepting that she would be staying where she was. Jeremy set her up with a light ankle chain so she could move around, even letting her get outside a little, but not quite reaching far enough to mess around in the driver’s area. Never could be too careful.
Days turned into weeks, and Jeremy eventually managed to get them a little house on an acreage outside the city. The place was a little run-down, but after a few days’ worth of time-stopped repairs and several trips to the hardware store and the library, Jeremy soon had it looking like a place a person could live in. He kept the door locked and bars on the windows when he was out, so Petra could roam freely about, and lengthened the chain he’d used in the RV so she could spend time outdoors when he was home.
Jeremy experimented extensively with the timeglove. He found that he was able to jump ahead or back by fractions of a second, like a frame skip on a DVR. He was also able to fast forward or rewind by about ten seconds. Any longer than that, and he started feeling intense pain in his skull, like a migraine with teeth.
Petra turned to books to keep herself distracted. She read anything and everything that Jeremy brought for her, and soon the house had a very extensive library. Fiction, History, Science… she even started studying for her GED. Jeremy meanwhile kept going to school during the day as if nothing had happened, claiming to have found a job and officially moving out of his parents’ house. Before long, they both held high school diplomas and were ready to go to college.
Jeremy had worried a lot about what would come next. He didn’t want his princess to live locked up in a tower, but how could he trust her? Still, she seemed much more relaxed than she had once been, save for the sad look in her eyes.
He was lying in bed, running over the problem in his mind for the millionth time, when Jeremy heard his door creak open.
The house was large enough to be comfortable, and Jeremy had set Petra up with her own bedroom. She had slept there every night without fail. This night had been like any other, save for a thunderstorm that was blowing a cool breeze through the windows. It was a welcome change to the usual hot summer nights.
Jeremy’s back was to the door. He glanced at the timeglove on his nightstand, but something inside told him to wait. Letting his eyes close, Jeremy slowed his breathing and relaxed, listening to the patter of the rain on the roof.
There was only the darkness and the rain for what felt like a long time. Jeremy was starting to think maybe he’d dreamed the sound when there was a shifting and a squeak of bedsprings behind him.
Petra slid into the bed and curled up, pressing her forehead between Jeremy’s shoulder blades. He could feel the heat coming off of her, smell her sweet scent, hear the soft rush of her breath as it got slower and quieter.
Jeremy turned over, reaching around her and pulling her in closer, tilting his head and kissing her forehead. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, so Jeremy kissed her temple and her cheek, brushing her hair back from her face.
A sliver of moonlight shone through the window, lighting Petra’s skin up in a pale glow. The light was dim enough that her freckles were hidden, making her look like a fragile porcelain doll. Jeremy wiped a tear away from her eye, then leaned in again and kissed her soft lips. At the same time, he slid his hand down her back, pulling her hips in against his own.
Petra closed her eyes, and Jeremy shifted against her, savoring the warm feeling of her crotch moving along the hardening bulge in his shorts. He kissed her again, cupping his hand over her ass and sliding his other hand slowly up the front of the shirt that she was wearing.
Her skin was soft and warm. He already knew that; he’d touched her before. But somehow, it felt worlds better now, without stopping time, without tying her or binding her. Just her flesh and his hand, trailing over her ribs and gingerly up the swell of her breast.
Jeremy continued kissing his princess, noting a little quiver in her lip when his fingertips found her nipple. He circled it, teasing the skin with gentle friction, while his hips humped slowly against her. She was only wearing panties down there, and her bare legs touching his were driving him wild with eager anticipation.
Kissing down her jaw and neck, Jeremy slowly lifted Petra’s shirt and exposed her breasts. In the moonlight they looked every bit as pale and precious as her face had. She was a beautiful doll, his to hold and to protect… and now, his to enjoy, as well. He leaned in and took her nipple in his mouth, sucking softly while his right hand slid down and under the waistband of her panties.
Petra hadn’t been able to groom as well as she usually did, and her copper mound had grown thicker than the last time he’d seen it. He ran his fingers through the soft, downy hair, seeking the source of the heat he could feel rippling off of her. She made a tiny little sound when he found her slit, not really a moan but maybe something working toward one.
Jeremy gently rolled her onto her back, moving to suckle at her other breast while he slowly rubbed up and down along her, learning the feel of every fold and curve. He pushed a little harder at the top where he knew her clit was supposed to be, and was awarded with a soft little whine.
Pulling back grudgingly from her breast, Jeremy lifted himself to his knees and started tugging her panties down. Petra lay still, letting him lift her hips and slide the little garment down her legs until it was completely off. He lifted it to his face and inhaled deeply, filling his sinuses with her sweet musky scents, then set them aside, letting his eyes scan slowly up her body.
Petra lay with her long, smooth legs partly open. Her coppery muff shone almost as brightly as her skin. Her shirt was still pushed up to her collarbones, exposing her flat tummy and perfect breasts. Her hair pooled about her like fire, and her face had a pure beauty normally reserved for true innocents and beauty queens. Even her closed eyelids made Jeremy’s heart jump in his chest, to say nothing of his cock jumping in his shorts, which he removed almost without thinking about it.
Kneeling between her legs, Jeremy lowered himself down close and kissed her once more. “I love you,” he whispered, reaching down and moving to position himself against her opening.
He thrust his hips and slipped along her folds, causing Petra to wince. “Sorry,” Jeremy said, stroking her cheek and lining himself up again. This time, he wiggled the head against her until he felt it begin to move inside, then pushed more slowly.
She was tight, so tight he almost couldn’t get it in. Jeremy leaned on her, gaining ground a fraction of an inch at a time until he started to feel damp warmth. He pulled back a little, using the head of his cock to lubricate Petra’s vice-like grip, then began to push down once more.
It took a few tries, each time going deeper and pulling back with more of the wetness from inside her, but finally Jeremy felt the heat of Petra’s flesh near the base of his cock and her thighs against his own. He moaned in pleasure, staying there and leaning down on top of her, pressing his bare chest to hers and kissing her firmly. His cock spasmed and twitched inside her, reacting to her heat and grip.
After a moment of catching his breath, Jeremy began moving once more. Bracing himself on the bed, he pulled his hips back until he was halfway out and then pushed in again. He moved slowly, pushing as deep as her position allowed. He wished he could get deeper; hell, he wished he could lose himself inside her. But for now, since Petra was laying on her back, he would take what he could get.
Soon, Jeremy had worked up to a steady rhythm. He watched entranced as his princess’s body bounced slowly to the rhythm of his hips, the sway of her breasts and the swish of her hair, the way her eyebrows pulled inward when he pushed a little harder. He sped up a little, arching his back and taking one of Petra’s pale, perfect nipples in his mouth once more and suckling at it, trying to make her moan for him.
Petra didn’t moan, but she did tighten up around him.
Jeremy kept pumping into her, but the pressure coupled with the excitement crept up on him. A rolling shiver slid up his spine, making him jerk his hips a little, and he realized he was cumming. He knew he should pull out or something, but he found his body acting on its own, thrusting down hard against her while he groaned in pleasure.
Panting, Jeremy kissed Petra once more. He lifted his hips, carefully easing his sensitive and softening organ out of her and drawing a little gasp at the final jolt of contact. He smoothed her hair back from her face, smiling, then rolled off of her and onto his side once more.
Jeremy let himself fall back asleep, secure in the knowledge that, at last, she was his.
-*-*-
Petra waited a long time before she came back to herself. She knew that the moment she did, the moment she allowed herself to feel, she would start to cry, and the last part of her that was still proud refused to allow Jeremy to witness that.
As soon as she was certain that he was asleep, she breathed a long sigh and curled up with her back toward him. Tears rolled down her face, and her stomach hurt from holding back the sobs that wanted to come. She wrapped her arms around her knees and squashed them against her breasts, telling herself silently that this was what she had to do. This was how she could survive.
She had been laying in her own bed, listening to the rain and the thunder, when a sort of emptiness had risen beneath her, a gaping maw about to swallow her whole. It was like it finally clicked in her head: she was alone, she had no hope, and nobody was coming for her. Her father was dead, her mother didn’t care about her, and her captor had the power to do whatever he wanted.
She had thought that maybe, if she showed him some warmth, he would be kind in return. She kept telling herself that she had gone to his bed hoping to be held, and that him using her body was unexpected. Unfortunately, she was having trouble believing it.
She felt dirty, like a whore who sells herself for nothing more than a roof over her head. She had betrayed her memory of her father, the only man she had ever truly loved, and proved that she never deserved him to begin with.
Still, she had seen Jeremy’s temper flare when he didn’t get his way. She knew it was only a matter of time before he started hurting people. Maybe if she gave him what she wanted, he would calm down. Maybe he would stop short of doing any real damage to anyone else.
Maybe she could make her life worthwhile, somehow.
Timebenders 2: Channel-Surfing, Chapter 7 [timestop nc mf]
It didn’t take Jake too long to find Sarah’s missing undergarments. They were hidden behind a plant in the living room. He wound time back to the moment that Sarah had entered the bathroom and put them back on her, then returned to his seat to let things play out, keeping an eye on everything he could.
Of course, no one else really noticed anything amiss about what had just happened. Or if they did, they stayed quiet about it. People tended to do that, he’d noticed, when unexplainable things are going on. The difference was, Jake could explain them.
It didn’t take long for the mysterious guest to strike again. Jake noticed a movement and turned his head just in time to see Sarah’s breasts fall out of her top, flashing everyone present.
“Shit!” Sarah said, crossing her arms to cover herself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
Jake stopped time right there. Carefully, he wound the tape backward, watching his wife’s body move.
Sarah’s breasts rose slowly, as if drifting underwater. They pressed inward, and Jake felt a jarring sort of tug on his mind. The feeling passed, and Sarah was again fully dressed.
“Huh,” Jake said to himself, pausing things again. He let time flow forward as slowly as he could.
There was a definite break-point where it happened. One moment Sarah was covered, and the next she wasn’t. But Jake was unable to get into the exact moment when it had happened. It made sense, since it had happened outside of the flow of time, but it was maddening.
Jake considered the situation, leaning in to look at the handprints that held his wife’s breasts in the air. He couldn’t get into the stopped moment to challenge the intruder. He couldn’t stop anything from happening. He could, however, do some damage control.
“Small hands,” he commented to himself, touching his own palms over the prints in Sarah’s flesh. “But not girl-small. You’re a man, I think.” He smoothed out the prints as gently as he could and pulled the dress back up over her shoulders.
This time, when Jake let time start, Sarah just shivered as if she’d been touched. He couldn’t stop that, but he could at least keep the worst of it at bay, until he found out who was doing this.
When he found out, the worst would come back around again.
– – –
Jeremy listened on his earpiece, disappointed that there was no reaction to his baring of Mrs. Stevens’ tits. Maybe she caught it in time and covered up, he thought, but that seemed like a hell of a feat. Still, they were ignoring him. This wouldn’t do at all.
What he really needed to do was something that couldn’t be covered up. Nothing dramatic enough for the others to get curious, but enough that Mr. Stevens would feel threatened and helpless. Stopping time, Jeremy returned to the dinner party and leaned on the wall to think.
He could leave notes around, that might be interesting. But it just felt like a coward’s way out. What he really needed to do was make the man feel like he couldn’t protect himself or his friends. It was a shame that he’d already gotten off on Sarah’s thighs, or else he could have done some more mischief with the women’s’ bodies. Now it would be at least twenty minutes until he would be ready for anything like that again, and longer if he wanted to leave a lot of “evidence”. That was time he really didn’t have.
Jeremy smirked. What was he thinking? There was no such thing as “no time” for him, not anymore. He had all the time in the world. Whistling a tune, he got up and walked into the kitchen. A snack and a little patience was all he needed, and then he’d be ready to go.
– – –
“Beautiful,” Jeremy breathed, admiring his work. “Simply beautiful.”
He wasn’t sure how long he’d waited, but after his snack, sitting in the Wexlers’ silent home had grown boring fast. He’d pulled out Natalia and Sarah’s breasts and sat staring at them for a while before he got his latest idea. Of course, it wasn’t really something that would be noticed. There was no way he could leave them like this. But still, it was pretty fun.
Sarah and Natalia were completely nude. Jeremy had undressed them and carried them upstairs to the Wexlers’ bedroom, then set about posing them in a few of his favorite positions. He’d made them go down on each other, then posed them on the bed doing a sixty-nine. His latest work had them laying face to face, with Natalia’s legs wrapped around Sarah’s waist as if they were in the process of a particularly vigorous strap-on fucking. He’d even managed to move their faces into something resembling orgasmic bliss.
He’d thought about dressing the women up in something slutty, but it just seemed like a lot of hassle. Hell, re-dressing them after he was done posing them was going to be a pain in the ass.
Still, it did need to be done. Eventually. Jeremy climbed up on the bed and unwrapped Natalia’s legs, taking a moment to run his hand along the warm, smooth skin of her thigh. He pulled Sarah up and off of her, leaving her in mid-air like something from a possession movie.
It was really incredible, he thought, looking down at Natalia’s body. Here was a woman, one of his neighbors, one of the hottest women he’d met, completely naked and spread open like some kind of whore. He could do whatever he wanted, see whatever he wanted. His head felt hot and tight, rushing with excitement and power.
And then there was Sarah. She was one of those hidden hotties, the ones who don’t flaunt it. He’d never again have to wonder who they were, because now he could just stop time and have a peek. Jeremy laid on the bed next to Natalia, rubbing her thigh and looking up at the amazon beauty floating above them. His dick was so hard, it almost hurt.
“Oh yeah!” Jeremy exclaimed, rolling his eyes. He’d been so distracted playing with his dolls, he’d almost forgotten what he was here for. Unzipping and pulling his cock out, he grinned. “So, ladies,” he said, waving it at them, “who wants a taste?”
A couple of moves and turns later, Jeremy had both Sarah and Natalia down on the bed on their hands and knees. He sat between them, leaning on the headboard and pulling Natalia’s lips and tongue up and down the side of his shaft while Sarah unknowingly stared longingly up at him.
“What’s wrong, Mrs. S, are you jealous?” Jeremy chuckled, reaching for her head. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you.”
Sarah didn’t seem to mind, so Jeremy pulled her in toward Natalia’s open mouth and outstretched tongue, almost making them kiss. With a little manual encouragement, Sarah’s own mouth was soon in a similar pose, and the both of them were pressed to opposite sides of Jeremy’s aching meat.
Moving their heads proved almost impossible without more hands, but Jeremy got a good rhythm going by holding them still and pumping his hips. Warm lips and tongues enveloped him, sending shivers up his spine and goosebumps down his arms.
He pulled them together hard when he came, humping against their cheeks and shooting his goo between them. Sarah’s head slipped out of his grip and pushed upward, smearing the cum that was frozen in the air across her face and taking the last spurt right in the mouth. Jeremy groaned and shook, laying back and panting while the pleasure faded away.
“Now there’s a mess you can’t ignore,” he said, looking down at Sarah’s face. It was going to be a bitch to get her dressed again without smearing that everywhere, but he could always go slow.
Some jobs, after all, were worth doing well.
– – –
Jake felt a twinge in the back of his mind. He was starting to feel the stops when they happened. It was almost like the world skipped a beat. Maybe if it kept happening, he could do something to defend against it.
Sarah and Natalia both gasped in shock at whatever sensations had overtaken them. Jake stopped time as quickly as he could, turning to look at them both.
It was obvious that something had happened. Both women’s hair was messed up from some sort of manhandling, and Natalia’s lipstick was smeared onto her cheek. Sarah, on the other hand…
Sarah was a mess. Whoever it was that was messing with them, it was definitely a male. Jake’s wife’s face was smeared with what was obviously someone’s cum, and there was a look of disgust on her face that made him suspect her tongue was similarly violated.
Growling in frustration, Jake got up and went to the bathroom to fetch a hairbrush, some tissues, and a box of wet wipes. When he returned, he wound time back to the moment that everything went wrong and got to work.
It took a while to clean them up. When he was done, Jake had a small mountain of wipes to get rid of and a black cloud hanging over his head. He’d scraped what he could off Sarah’s tongue, shuddering in revulsion at the necessity of the act. With any luck, she wouldn’t notice much. And with even more luck, Jake would be able to pull himself out of time along with the intruder soon and catch him in the act. He just needed a little more time.
– – –
“ARGH!” Jeremy yelled in frustration, kicking the little trash can as hard as he could. It flew about half a foot and stopped, hanging in the air with little wadded-up tissues frozen in the act of flying out of it.
All this time. Hours now, if you included that nap he’d taken on Mrs. Stevens’ chest after he came on her face. And all he’d managed to do was mildly inconvenience the man. He’d fucking cleaned it up!
Jeremy stormed out of the bathroom and back to the dinner table. Natalia looked a little uncomfortable, and Sarah was taking a pretty long-looking drink of wine. That was it. No confusion, no chaos. Nothing.
Stomping around the table, Jeremy yanked Sarah out of her chair onto her feet. “You wanna clean everything up, huh?” he said angrily, yanking Sarah’s dress up and baring her ass. “Fucking clean this up!”
He bent her forward, pushing her thighs apart and reaching down to unzip his pants. His dick was already hard, and with a little work bending Sarah’s legs Jeremy soon had himself positioned at her entrance, rubbing against the warm folds of skin there.
It was more difficult than it looked in the movies to shove himself inside her. On the first couple tries, Jeremy slipped and shoved himself between her legs. Grumbling in frustration, he took his dick in his hand and wiggled it against her, moving up and down until he found the place where he could slip inside. He eased the head in until he was certain he wouldn’t fall out this time, then grasped Sarah’s hips and thrust forward again.
The sensation was amazing, like nothing he’d ever imagined. Even Natalia’s eager mouth hadn’t compared to the feeling of Sarah’s hot, warm flesh wrapped snugly around him. Jeremy groaned, holding himself inside her, wiggling until he was certain he was all the way inside.
“That’s right,” he said, pulling back a little and shoving in again. “You’re mine. Anyone I want is m-ngh- mine.” He ran his hands up Sarah’s back, pushing the dress up further and grabbing hold of her waist. His thrusts became rhythmic as the anger was replaced with pleasure. “You. Mrs. Wexler. P-Petra. Anyone.”
Jeremy could feel pleasure building, but it quickly dropped off. He tried thrusting harder and faster, but the feeling didn’t last. Grumbling, he pulled back and looked down at what he’d done.
Sarah stood bent at the waist with her legs splayed wide open. Her dress was up around her ribcage, and from behind Jeremy could now very clearly see her pussy. It was gaping open, shoved in every direction by his thoughtless use of her.
“Shit,” he said, sticking a couple fingers into her. He could get them in without even touching her walls. “There’s gotta be some way to-”
The idea came to him like divine inspiration. Jeremy grinned and got down on his knees, going to work. He rubbed and teased at Sarah’s pussy, dragging his fingers along her outer folds and inner walls, smearing the moisture he found until she glistened. He pulled back her skin to find her clit, tickling it with his fingertips. From what he knew so far, this much stimulation would give Sarah an instant orgasm when she awoke from her stopped state. And Jeremy knew what would happen to her body when she had it.
He stood again and moved her, bracing her hands on the table before sliding himself into her once more. He pressed in on her stomach, shifting her insides to wrap more snugly around his cock, and then started moving back and forth once more. He wanted to have a good rhythm for this.
Once he was going at a good pace, Jeremy pointed the transmitter of his timeglove at Sarah and pulled her out of time.
Her pussy tightened immediately, snapping like a vice around Jeremy’s dick. It felt like she was rippling inside, milking his shaft and pulling it into her deeper. Sarah gasped, shocked and confused by her situation, then tensed all over. Her head started to turn, and Jeremy froze her once again the moment her face started to come into view.
“Ho-holy fuck,” he breathed, shaking all over. He was still thrusting into Sarah’s now very wet opening, but the sensation of her gripping him like that had been overwhelming. He’d almost blown it the moment she’d clenched around him.
Jeremy leaned over Sarah’s body, pulling down the front of her dress and grasping at her tits. He buried his face in her neck where she wouldn’t see it, then pulled her out of time once more.
Sarah was still cumming even as she tried to push him off of her. Her legs were shaking and it felt like he was going to get sucked inside of her. She made a noise of protest, but it was drowned out by Jeremy’s groan of pleasure as he started to cum inside of her.
Sarah screamed in anger and shoved herself back, throwing Jeremy off in mid-spurt. He stopped her in time as he flew, but it didn’t do anything to cushion the blow of his ass hitting the hardwood floor.
“Owww,” Jeremy complained, rubbing his aching tailbone and getting slowly to his feet. “Fuck, I shoulda tied you down.”
Jeremy stopped and shook his head. What was he talking about? Tying a woman down and fucking her? This was too much. He’d been a virgin a minute ago, and now he was… something else.
He grabbed a napkin and wiped his dick off, then turned to look at Sarah. She was halfway between bent and standing, and she looked ready to kill someone. Her ass was a little red – obviously he’d been thrusting harder than he thought – and there was a stream of white droplets arcing back from her ass along the path of his unexpected flight.
“Too far,” he said, shaking his head again. Tying a woman up and then waking her up to use her body was a little too much. Jeremy resolved to be far more invisible in the future. He gathered the drops out of the air with his napkin and put it in the trash can, then lowered Sarah’s dress again and set her in her chair. Making sure nobody was looking in her direction, he put her elbows on the table and rested her head on her hands. Maybe she would think she had fallen asleep. Of course, she had cum dripping out of her and smeared across her ass, but hell, maybe her husband would clean that up, too.
Jeremy stepped back and left the room. He needed to think about this. He’d just had sex! With a real woman! Granted, it was his girlfriend’s mother, not what he’d really wanted for his first time. And she hadn’t known it was happening. And she’d fought when she found out. But it still counted! It was sex. It was real. And he wanted more.
– – –
Jake felt another twinge. It was almost long enough for him to grab onto and stop time, but not quite. He was thinking about how he might get a better grip on the moment when he was startled out of his train of thought by a scream.
Sarah sat bolt upright in her chair, shoving back from the table and kicking her legs. Her eyes were wide with shock, and she whipped her head back and forth, looking around the room angrily.
“Sarah?” Natalia asked. “What is wrong?”
“I- I thought-” Sarah swallowed, visibly deflating in her chair. “I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep. Wow…”
Jake stopped time and slammed his fist on the table. He knew. Even without checking, he knew. Still, he had to see for himself. He stood and pulled Sarah from her seat, moving her to sit in the air above the table. Carefully, lifting the fabric away from her skin, he pulled up her dress to see what had happened.
She was wet down there, for sure. She had probably been made to cum by the intruder. But something else reflected the light, and Jake leaned in to look closer. He spread Sarah’s legs, then softly pushed open her labia.
There was no question. There was cum inside her. Whoever it was had just fucked his wife. They took her, and fucked her, and probably pulled her out of time to feel it.
“Dammit,” Jake muttered. “Dammit dammit DAMMIT.” He pulled Sarah’s dress back down over the scene of the crime, sitting in his chair again. This shit was escalating fast, too fast.
Jake pulled Sarah back into her chair, then got up and walked outside. He walked around the house, then around his own. He checked every yard on the street, every window with a view of Saul’s place. He broke into homes, checking living rooms and bedrooms, looking for someone clutching a universal remote. There was nothing. The Thompsons were having dinner. The Smiths were fucking in their laundry room. That Jeremy kid was still playing some video game with an earpiece in, no doubt calling some 14 year old a nazi jew lizard for beating him at it or something. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Whoever this guy was, he was covering his tracks.
Jake returned to the dinner table, cleaning his wife up a little – there was some on her thighs and ass, making her dress stick – and then started time again and tried his best to convince her that she’d just nodded off. Natalia suggested that they all retire to the living room for a much stiffer drink. Jake was the only one who seemed to notice how she looked at him when she said “stiffer,” and they all agreed that drinks were a good idea.
Once more, maybe twice. Then he might be ready. He could catch the asshole who was hurting his wife and had stolen his daughter. If the price to get Petra back was letting her mother be raped at the dinner table, he was willing to pay it. Whoever was doing it would be paying even more.
– – –
“This really isn’t scaring you at all, is it?” Jeremy asked, considering Jake’s frozen face. “I’ll have to do something more drastic. But first…”
Jeremy turned to look around. The diners had all moved into the living room, and Mrs. Wexler was in the kitchen pouring some drinks. Natalia. Jeremy sauntered in her direction, letting his eyes take her in.
She was leaning forward just a little, pouring rum into a glass of what looked like cola. The amber-colored liquid hung in the air between bottle and glass, catching the light like a cascade of jewels. It was really quite beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as Natalia’s ass, stretching the back of her little dress enough that a person could see where her panties were, if she had been wearing any.
Jeremy pulled up the back of that little dress, exposing her ass. It was round and tight, and the simple act of brushing his hand across it had Jeremy’s cock twitching in excitement. He ran both hands over it, slowly, squeezing and rubbing those perfect cheeks.
“Fuck, this is incredible,” Jeremy whispered reverently. “It’s almost a shame to do it. You don’t mind, though, do you?”
His hands slid around her body, moving up and cupping her breasts through the thin material of the dress. At the same time, Jeremy moved forward, pressing his crotch against Natalia’s ass and grinding slowly against her. “No, of course you don’t mind,” he said, pulling down the front of her dress, squeezing and playing with her breasts. “Besides, it’ll only take a moment.”
Jeremy lifted his new toy off the ground, turning her and sitting her on the kitchen island that had been standing behind them. He leaned in, standing between her thighs and sucking on her nipple while he rolled up the front of her skirt and pushed down his pants.
It took a little rubbing and feeling, but before long he was parting her folds and slipping the first inch inside of her. Jeremy groaned with pleasure, reaching around and grabbing Natalia’s ass to hold her steady while he eased inch after inch of himself past her entrance until his hips were tight against her upper thighs.
He looked down, and his heart skipped a beat. What a view! Mrs. Wexler’s perfect tits, then the messy folds of her dress, and below that… her completely bald mound, and her pussy wrapped tight around the shaft of his dick!
“Lay down, baby,” Jeremy said, placing a hand between Natalia’s breasts and pushing her onto her back. He gripped her waist, pulling back a little before pushing in again, and again moaned as the last inch of him was swallowed up inside her. She was hot and wet, and he didn’t think it was possible for his dick to fit anywhere more perfectly.
Jeremy started pumping into her, slowly at first, but picked up speed pretty quickly. He put a palm low on her stomach, and found that he was able to keep her from getting too loose by pressing down on her. He could feel a pressure under his hand, the movement of his dick as it plunged into her again and again.
Lifting her legs, Jeremy started thrusting harder into Natalia’s pussy. His impacts forced her away, and he had to use his free hand to keep her steady. All the while, she smiled up at him dreamily, completely unaware of his use of her.
Feeling his climax building, he pulled back. In one quick move, Jeremy pulled Natalia down on her knees in front of him like she had been earlier in the evening. He moved her hands to the outside of her tits and held them there, sliding his slimy, throbbing rod in between and thrusting once more, sliding in and out of the cavern of her cleavage.
He was cumming in seconds, moaning and pumping, and before long there was a thick river of white fluid filling the bottom of that canyon. He stepped back, panting, and sat down on the floor, taking a moment to catch his breath.
This was his life now. Anything he wanted, with anyone he wanted, anytime he wanted. Jeremy smiled to himself, leaning over and reaching between Natalia’s tits, pushing them out of the way so he could see his load on her skin.
He smeared and rubbed it in, coating Natalia’s breasts in a transparent layer of himself, then stood her up again. Her dress was wrinkled, but fit back in place easily enough. After a moment’s thought, he pulled the front down a little; flashing a little nipple would draw Jake’s attention to what he’d done.
Jeremy sighed, gave Mrs. Wexler a slap on the ass, and headed back to his house to take a nap before he started time up once more.
– – –
There was that tug again, stronger than before, along with a sensation of everything skipping a beat. Jake frowned, then stopped time when he heard a clatter coming from the kitchen.
Natalia was leaning hard against the counter. Her knees had buckled, and the look on her face was one that he knew very well. Someone had made her cum.
Turning her around to investigate, Jake immediately noticed that her nipples were half-exposed. From there, it was easy to see that her breasts had been coated in something wet and sticky.
Jake started time again, not even bothering to go back to where he was sitting. He caught Natalia before she could fall. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“Oh! Oh yes, I’m- I think so. How did you get here so quickly?”
“Nevermind. Just sit down.” He looked around. Whoever was doing this, they had to be monitoring things somehow. A camera, perhaps, but he didn’t see anything. “Hey asshole,” he said out loud, “can you hear me? I hope so. You think this bullshit will scare me off? I invented this bullshit!”
“Jake?” Sarah was standing in the door to the kitchen. “Who are you talking to?”
“I’m talking to the motherfucker who stole my girl! He can hear me, and I want him to know I’m coming for him!”
“Jake, stop. There’s nobody else here. You’re scaring me.”
“Whatever. I’ll just wind back time, you’ll forget all about this. But I need to call this asshole out! I need to see his face!”
“Jake, please-”
Sarah stopped talking mid-sentence. Everything stopped. Time itself stopped. But Jake didn’t stop.
He could feel it, this time. He couldn’t see or hear anything, but he could sense the rip in time, and he had his fingers on the edges.
All he had to do was pull.
– – –
“He can rewind??” Jeremy stepped up in his seat and ripped his earpiece out. “He has… I have a time machine?!”
Jeremy ran over to the Wexlers’ house and entered the kitchen. Jake was standing there, red-faced, staring at an empty part of the room. “I guess I have to do something drastic,” he said, grabbing the man by the waist and lifting him up.
Jeremy pushed Jake through the air, lifting him again when he got too low. They went through the living room toward the front door, then Jeremy stopped. He stepped back and watched Jake floating in the air.
Except he wasn’t floating. He was slowly falling.
“Oh shit!” Jeremy exclaimed, grabbing Jake’s arm and pulling him outside. He could feel the weight now, as Jake’s mass reasserted itself in time. He was breaking free!
He moved around behind and pushed instead, heading for the road. One last trick, and he would be rid of the man for good, but it had to be now, before he broke free. Just push him in front of a car, give him a little scare, and then put him back inside. Simple.
Jake was getting heavier. Jeremy gave one last heave, falling hard on the grass, but it was enough. Jake’s body slowly flew through the air, coming to rest in the middle of the road, right in front of a car that looked parked but definitely was not.
Jeremy tensed his hand, getting ready to trigger the button twice: once to start things, and then once more as soon as he knew Jake had seen his predicament.
He keyed the control and time started. The car started moving at full speed, and Jake’s eyes widened in shock. Jeremy clenched his fist, keying the timestop again.
The car kept going. Jake’s hands went up. There was a squeal of brakes and a loud thud, and suddenly Jake was gone.
Time hadn’t stopped. Jeremy looked down and cursed. Hanging from his sleeve was a single loose wire.
The glove was broken. Jeremy couldn’t stop time anymore.
He couldn’t stop time, and he’d just killed a man.
Timebenders 2: Channel-Surfing, Chapter 6 [timestop nc mf]
*Sorry for the late posting, I had a busy day! -author*
———
“Jake, please,” Natalia said, putting a hand on Jake’s arm. She and her husband Saul had cornered him on the sidewalk outside his home. “It has been a week. You have done nothing but search for your girl. Come over for dinner.”
“Yeah, come relax,” Saul told him. “One evening won’t hurt. Besides, didn’t you say she sent you a message?”
Jake shook his head. “The notes, the phone messages… they weren’t her. The tone was all wrong, and the content… it’s just a ploy by someone to keep the police out of it. She didn’t leave. She was taken.”
Saul Wexler, Jake’s neighbor, hissed through his teeth. “They can’t track her phone?”
“I think the battery’s been taken out,” Jake replied. “It doesn’t even ring.”
Natalia sighed. “Still,” she said, “it will not harm you to have dinner with us.”
Jake nodded, surrendering to his friends. “I guess I’ve got time.”
Natalia smiled. “Bring Sarah, too,” she said. “We will have a brisket.”
Jake chuckled despite himself. Natalia was tall and gorgeous, with long, dark hair, fantastic breasts, and a vulpine smile that spoke of intrigue and excitement. How Saul, a meek accountant, ever scored a wife as hot as her, he’d never know. It certainly wasn’t because of his sexual performance. In fact, before Petra had disappeared, they had been helping Natalia with that aspect of her marriage; Jake had appeared to her in “dreams” thanks to the suggestibility of people who are frozen in time, fucking her brains out and trying to help her with her goal of conceiving a child.
They’d even groomed her, conditioning her to become aroused whenever Jake was around. That had been just for fun; he had been experimenting with coercion, learning how easy it was to convince people to do things they wouldn’t do otherwise. Like have extramarital sex with a neighbor, for instance. Judging by Natalia’s smile and the way she kept biting her bottom lip when she looked at him, it was working. Petra would be thrilled.
Petra. Jake flinched. In the week since his daughter had vanished, he’d spent months in stopped time. He’d searched entire boroughs of the city, house by house, keeping a record in a notebook of which addresses he had scoured through. So far he had discovered three sex dungeons, four drug labs, and a pretty impressive cache of money and guns that he suspected belonged to some sort of organized criminals. Several anonymous tips had gone to the local police about some of his finds. But nothing had looked remotely like a place where someone might take a kidnapped girl.
There had been no ransom note, no demands, and no sense to the situation. Petra had supposedly left a note explaining that she was leaving, and a second one in Jake’s bag explaining that she had needed to get away from him.
It didn’t add up. Petra was in love with him, and had been almost nonsensically enthusiastic about their incestuous relationship. She had initiated it, and together they had been having the time of their lives. For her to suddenly leave him over an attack of conscience was just ridiculous.
Still, a dinner with Saul and Nat could be just what he heeded. A chance to relax and recharge. And then he would redouble his efforts, searching the entire city if need be. He wouldn’t age while time was stopped, so even if it took decades, he could-
Jake twitched. Something had just touched his hand. He looked down and saw that his fingers had curled around a piece of paper.
“What’s that?” Natalia asked him.
“Nothing,” Jake said, unfolding the paper and looking at it. “I’ll see you this evening. Six o’clock?”
Natalia started to answer, but Jake didn’t hear her. He was too busy walking into his house, retreating from the situation before his hands started to shake with fear and rage, because it wasn’t nothing that he was holding. It was a note.
A note from Petra’s kidnapper.
Timebenders 2: Channel-Surfing, Chapter 5 [timestop nc mf]
*author’s note: Thank you to everyone who’s been responding to the chapters, and especially to those of you who went ahead and purchased the novel. As always, it’s awesome knowing that everyone is enjoying my filth! :D*
Timebenders 2: Channel-Surfing, Chapter 4 [timestop nc fondling mast mf]
For someone with superpowers, Jeremy was having kind of a disappointing day. First he’d been disappointed at the banks; after running all over the place he’d only been able to fill one tote bag with cash. Clearly, buying a house in the country was out of the question. Maybe he could rent a storage unit?
Then there was the thing with Suzie. Why had she been crying? Jeremy had waited behind the curtain, but nothing else had happened. After a few minutes, Rachel had knocked on the door to check on her, so Suzie dried her eyes and left. Jeremy had to sneak out after that; several of the others had felt a sudden need to line up for showers.
Jeremy walked for a long time, lost in thought. He kept time stopped, figuring the less time he left Petra bound and gagged the better it would be for everyone. Besides, the silence helped him to think.
He was considering finding a condemned warehouse or something, although he had no idea how to do that, when he looked up and found himself standing in the middle of a used car lot. A used car lot full of old RVs.
Maybe, he thought, this day wasn’t so disappointing after all.