The Blue Pill – [Mfsub][nc][drugs]

A little context: I wrote a story based on someone’s kink list, and I wanted it to be a dark, slightly disturbing noncon story, but it just came out really unpleasant and sort of hard to read. I felt so conflicted about posting it that I decided to write a companion piece to make amends. If you read the other story and were creeped out, I’m sorry, I’m not a psychopath, honestly, just a little weird sometimes.

The music in the story, btw, is L’histoire de Melody Nelson by Serge Gainsbourg, which is just about the most decadent thing I know.

Yours,

Robin Goodfellow

“I think you have, uh, too much of the ‘non’? You know? I want to make your ‘non’ to be a ‘oui'”.

I burst out laughing at him, “You mean you want me to change my mind? That’s a very flowery way of saying so.”

Davide smiles, “To change? Perhaps the saying is ‘to blow your mind’?”

“You really don’t know when to give up, do you?”

[F] – Mirror Monster – Part 8 – Final [Fsub] [bd] [nc] [sci-fi] [Tentacles]

Later that night Taylor and I met outside the gym each of us dressed just like we would if we would actually be heading inside for an actual workout. It was nearly 8pm, and the crowd at the gym was slowly starting to die down, but there were still a number of people using the weights, treadmills, and other equipment. Entering the gym with my membership card, I kinda hoped that those people would leave soon. The gym was open 24 hours a day, so I wasn’t expecting it to be completely empty, but maybe enough so that me and Taylor couldn’t be heard by the other people.

Thankfully Taylor knew one of the guys that worked behind the counter during the day, and she was able to convince him that we needed the large open room with the mirror for a private class we were holding. Wandering towards the back of the gym and towards the large mirror I glanced over my shoulder a few times making sure no one was paying attention to us. We managed to slip into the open room and close the door behind us, and each of us breathed a small sigh of relief looking at the mirror seeing it was completely normal. I honestly had no idea when this would happen, or that we were even at the correct place. But all we could do now is wait.

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?”

[F] – Mirror Monster – Part 7 [Fsub] [bd] [nc] [sci-fi] [Tentacles]

Taylor was already waiting at a table by the time I got to the small cafe she had texted me about. I had been attempting to contact the monster the entire time during my car ride but it didn’t seem to answer the way it did earlier. And now that I thought about it, it really only seemed to talk when I was really horny. I had a hunch that it’s ability to talk and control me had something to do with that.

Entering the cafe I found it to be a fairly dark setting. There were private tables scattered throughout the small room that allowed for people to have private conversations. The lights were dim, and the walls were made of a dark brick that sort of set the mood for the place. The floor was a dark hard wood, and only made the place see more cozy. I could see why Taylor picked this place. It had no mirrors on the walls but would also allow us to talk in private without other customers listening. I went towards the back of the cafe and saw Taylor sitting in a small booth by herself with a coffee in front of her. She looked uncomfortable. Her face was strained a little, and she kept fidgeting shifting back and forth in her seat. I could see her jaw clenching as if she was trying to endure something. I didn’t even have to ask what was wrong. I already knew.

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.

[F]ort Bragg was good 2 [m]e

I drove through the night from Florida and got to NC just in time to take my friend to her very last chemo appointment in her breast cancer battle. She finished the treatment, we went home and took a very long nap together in bed. Breastfriends. Now that she’s done stealing the spotlight and faking cancer for attention, I can finally grow my hair back out and end my virtue signaling for pity sex campaign. Here is where I’d like to mention how COMPLETELY INSATIABLY HORNY I’d gotten in those weeks in Florida. Boyfriend and I only managed to have very quiet sex a handful of times while in Florida together, as we were staying with his entire family. No nookie-nookie for me, at least… not the way I like it. I tried arranging us some fun while we were there, but all the good ones I liked couldn’t host us/me so it was moot. The ones who could host inevitably came across too aggressively, too pushy, or threw red flags up. I ended up begging boyfriend to buy me a vibrator from a sex shop so I could masturbate in the car a few times a day and relieve some of the pressure. I lasted approximately 2 weeks without a vibrator. I can go months without sex with less panic and attitude.

In Bloom, Part II – [Mf][nc][abduction][anal][breeding]

Jason struggled getting through the rest of the day. After the first two periods, he stopped worrying about Monica being discovered; she was quite obedient. The excitement was harder to manage. Between replaying what happened earlier and her smell faintly wafting from the closet, he had a lot of difficulty focusing on his lesson plan.

The school used a staggered schedule, so today was one of the days that ended two periods early. He only had 30 minutes left to endure before he could start putting his extraction plan into action. As the students in the current period were working on their essays, Jason started sketching out the plan to identify any potential trouble spots.

The first part was easy. He was going to grab one of the large boxes and a dolly from the storeroom. Monica was a fairly small girl and he was pretty sure she’d fit in one of those boxes that the new chairs for the library came in. He’d have to fold down his back seat to get the box to fit in his small car, but it should work.

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.

A sex scene Rick and Morty fans will understand

The XY-chromosomed Homo sapien approximately within the segment of space-time continuum which I, a cissexual Caucasian bourgeouis XX-chromosomed Homo sapien, transferred the upper torso section of his hylomorphic unity in my (noting the metaphorical usage of “my”, lacking metaphysical commitment, cf. W.V.O. Quine) phenomenological direction, and, implicitly deconstructing the consensual/non-consensual dichotomy through material gesture within a given spatial reference frame, pun intended, located his labia lightly upon this author (contra Barthes) vis-a-vis her labia, forgive the indecent polysemous performative which construes the death of God as the birth of Man through weary postmodern irony; his digitus secondus manus and digitus me’dius simultaneously, insofar as simultaneity exists within a relativistic framework, constructing continuous abstract two-dimensional forms wherein every point of which, vis-a-vis a closed plane curve, is equidistant from a fixed point within the curve, in the unexposed, and therefore, titillating to the male gaze, area of the vulva, a construction embodying temporal patterns rooted in the Western aural art tradition; his pollex exemplifying a resembling trajectory through four-dimensional space-time with the gratuitous but welcomed addition of fractions of a Pascal applied onto the exposed area of the vulva — a fortuitous semantic serendipity, ferez-vous un pari? His until now presently unmentioned, but nevertheless, existing despite unmentioned (contra metaphysical antirealists of various stripes, Anglo-American or continental) manibus retrieves, in a manner reminiscent of the archetypical Capitalist (cf. neo-Marxian analyses), my capillum from my caput (note the near-feminine rhyme enacted by the Latin lingua franca) such that capillum remained attached to caput, and concurrently, exploiting the double-handed advantage of the primate species, establishes the position of my caput within a constrained but erotically-charged location within space-time. His lingua – a semantic unit reflective of humanity’s capacity to transfer through behavioral modifications internal intents – mirrors – Lacanian resonances remain salient here as ever, despite the naysaying of critics whose ignorance of Freud and post-Freudian discourse is encyclopedic – the aforementioned trajectories of his digitus secondus manus and digitus me’dius, embodying unity-in-diversity within the essential boundaries, insofar as the notion of boundaries are to be understood vis-a-vis post-Wittgensteinian, and some might argue, post-Heidegerrian, discourse, of the coital act, thus aestheticizing what too often is registered in the Symbolic as the collapse of the Human into the Animal (cf. Levi-Strauss), and in so doing, again metaphorically, creating and placing both of us within a dyadic relation, namely, the claimee-claimed relation, or, more critically, the bourgeouis-proletariat relation. My crura initiated a process whose telos necessitated the subsidiary state whose phenomenology eludes articulation, but which one may tentatively baptize with the descriptor “rigid elongation” (students of Kripke will appreciate the pun) as I contemporaneously enact illicit negation of his performed intent through horizontal movement contra his manibus. That manibus, consequently or not, negates itself through the Eastern virtue of gentleness, returning me from the psychophysiological condition which can be modelled in three-dimensional space as a canyon, the falling off of which has been described poignantly as le petit mort… I instantiate the property of “reaching orgasm”, to use earthy language, “instantly”, which itself is a misnomer since instant causation has been rendered scientifically impossible since Einstein in the beginning of the 20th century, an instantiation which itself is recurrently instantiated by this substance, the horizon of being temporarily forfeited for a saturation of jouissance grounding the disassembling of the socially constructed shell of identity… after which, a significant segment of the described process, fractal-like, repeats itself… The final cause (cf. Aristotle) of the sexual act, in the full sense of the term, i.e. the intentional use of the sexual faculties in line with their proper function and in accord with virtuous rationality, breaks upon a nearby slice of the space-time continuum, accompanied in musical (but musical in an expanded, post-Cagean sense) manner by the vocalizing, melismatic, quarter-tonal melodic murmuring and moaning of my vocalis spinalis through the enwording of his attached identifier.