Max Lane - Mutant, Fanboy, and Perverted Prankster.

It started innocently enough. I've been known to be a bit of a prankster. Causing a riot wherever I went, but all in the name of good fun. I'd annoy people here and there, but my juvenile antics were seen as just that, juvenile. All changed the day I hit eighteen. It was as if a switch was flipped, the second the clock struck twelve, I felt different, a spark of something new. I remember feeling an energy of sorts I've yet to experience before. It wasn't puberty, that's a damn fact. But one could say it was certainly along those lines. And I became horny, yes. A lot hornier than before.

But I also felt a power, something that wasn't there seconds earlier. And, with these newly charged urges... well, I was bound to get into a mess eventually.

I slammed the bedroom door shut behind me, ignoring the angered shout from my mother, nagging something about how I'm grounded, need to 'grow up,' and 'act mature for once,' or some other nonsense like that. If she thought she could ground an eighteen-year-old, she's the one who needs to grow up. It's always the usual parental 'when I was your age,' bla bla bla, 'I know everything' bla bla bla nonsense. The truth is, it's her and everyone else who thinks they can relate and try to chastise me, who don't understand the truth. It all changed that day I hit this age. I realized, I'm a mutant, a perpetually horny mutant, but still a mutant nonetheless. I hadn't realized at first, but these powers, they also just made me more... charged in the lower regions, and juvenile antics shift into perverted ones. The moment my powers developed, I felt a spike in libido. No one gets it, but I'm easily aroused, and as straight as can be.

But yes I will openly admit I always, even before my mutant awakening, had been a prankster. I live in a crazy world. Just the other week, The Avengers had this epic battle in New York that I got to watch live. I was at the edge of my seat, both in awe from pure fear and spectacle. Life can be unexpected. One day, I'm minding my own business, the next, a giant sand guy attacks the neighborhood. I feel like I only have one life, and I might as well have fun while living it. So yes, yes, and yes. I pull the occasional pranks here and there.

Those pranks did become a tad more... sexually charged, to say the least, as of late. That's why I'm grounded again. Not only grounded, but suspended from school, it was a whole thing. I didn't **** anyone; I'll die on that hill. But I guess I did breach privacy or whatever. Honestly, I was too horny to care, and I'm still horny now. My power is some form of tech-based fuckery, honestly I haven't wrapped my head around it, I'm not a super-powered biologist of some kind. But I have learned that I'm basically a walking phone. Something from all those video games in real-life anime where the self-insert of the week can summon a digital screen of sorts.

I learned I can simulate a digital camera window and take pictures of whatever I want; those pictures are saved in another menu, and I can view them to my heart's content. So yes, I naturally used that to snap as many pictures of girls as I could, in perfect beyond 8k quality. That led me to getting caught in the girls' bathroom, the suspension, getting grounded, yada yada yada.

It's not a big deal for me, no. Not in the slightest, as it allowed me free rein to stay home as long as I want, masturbating to those who make the girls at my school look like amateurs. The spandex-wearing hotties that run around barely clad in their underwear, saving the day... those are the ones who are really worth fapping too. As a major fan of heroes and villains alike (those of the female variety, of course), part of me wanted to get suspended so I'd have an excuse to stay at home and just jerk to my heart's content. Eventually, I'd get tired of being on my lonesome and not being able to pull pranks, but I could always just pretend to clean up my act long enough to get back in, then continue my pranks, only being more covert this time.

My room wasn't anything special. It was just... my room.

There was a bed with a cheap metal frame, a mattress and a lumpy pillow. A single, thin blanket that was more hole than fabric. An old rickety desk, with a cheap laptop that could barely run anything more complicated than a word processor. My closet door was hanging by a single hinge, and the door itself was covered in stickers, doodles, and writing. It was a complete mess, as was I, but the main attraction was how every and all inches of the walls was coated in copious amounts of hero merchandice, images, screen captures, and posters.

Some of the pictures were official posters from movies, others were stills from news reports of their battles, and some were fan art. Most of them were of female heroes and villains, captured in dynamic, powerful, sexy poses. Black Cat mid-somersault, her form a perfect arc against a moonlit rooftop, big butt stretching out that tight bodysuit. Scarlet Witch's hands glowing with chaotic energy, a look of fierce concentration on her face frozen with her arms raised channeling the power to warp reality, those huge caramel tits of hers bulged out in a round cleavagey display that made my cock throb. Emma Frost, dressed in her classic white corset and thigh-high boots, a smirk playing on her lips, her perfect big milk-filled tits on full display. There was even a massive poster of She-Hulk, her green skin glistening with sweat, her muscles rippling as she lifted a car over her head, her thong leotard exposing her entire body, and what a body it was. The women I lusted after the most were always the strongest, the most powerful, the ones who could snap me like a twig. I don't know why, but something about a woman who could crush me between her thighs really got me going. I'm truely a simple man when you break it down.

My dick was hard as steel, aching to be touched. I flopped back on my bed, the springs groaning in protest. My hands went to my crotch, rubbing my erection through my jeans. I closed my eyes, my mind drifting to the images on my walls.

These were my goddesses. My pantheon of powerful, spandex-clad women. I spent hours just staring at them, memorizing every curve, every line, every expression. They were more than just heroes or villains to me. They were an escape. A fantasy. And, most importantly, inspiration. My gaze drifted towards the wall above my desk, where a particularly large poster of Spider-Woman was pinned. Jessica Drew, mid-swing, her yellow-and-black costume a stark contrast against the New York skyline. That damn suit, hugged her like a second skin... Honestly with how they dress he damn well shouldn't feel an ounce of guilt. You can't run around that hot and not expect mutants dealing with aching hormones not to be getting their willies pent up.

They were so perfect, compared to perverted scum like me, they were gods; staples of power, honor, and respect. If I disappear, no one would bat an eye. If Spider Woman vanished, suddenly that corner of the neighborhood, under her protection, all those who sleep comfortably knowing that at the sign of danger, she'll swing into action, are asking where their protector is. They are so above my trivial and pathetically immature worldview... I just would love to have the ability to pull some perverted antics on them. Bringing down titans to something so embarrassing it's truly beneath them. Just imagine that big-assed spider slut swinging into a hero pose, only to get blasted with cum mid-hero speech. Honestly, I'm not sure how I'd pull that off. But I did manage to replace the soap in the girls' shower room with semen, and they didn't notice until halfway through soaking their hair. Yeah, I really am a **** to my hormones. But give me the opportunity, and I'd find a way.

Well, outside of just being horny. My powers did have a benefit that aided these hormones.

I was currently in my room, lying on my bed, my back against the wall and headboard with my digital projection looming before my fingers. I scrolled through a popular dark web forum known for leaks and deepfake nudes of superheroes and their assumed civilian identities. The site is called "The Super Sluts," and the title alone is enough to get me going. I know most of this stuff is fake, but it's great to be horny among other like-minded perverts.

"Damn... look at the curves on Black Cat," I mutter to myself, my fingers swiping through a series of leaked nudes of the infamous cat burglar. My other hand is already down my pants, stroking myself lazily as I drink in the sight. "Her ass is just perfect." With a mere thought, I saved the images to my own mental storage drive. Being a walking computer, even if limited due to a lack of understanding of my own abilities, has its benefits.

I scroll past a few more posts, my cock twitching at the sight of Captain Marvel's perky tits, a rare shot of Spider Woman in a compromising position, tied up by her own webs, an image looking right up the giant skirt of the towering giant Wasp, and a blurry but tantalizing picture of what looks like Scarlet Witch bending over. But then I stop when I hear...

*Ding-Dong*

Followed by Mom opening the front door and chatter filling the house. Curiosity had me pause, if only to eavesdrop and listen in on whoever was at the front door, but I could barely make anything out. So I just went back to my porn.

I scroll past a few more posts, my cock twitching at the costumed beauties before me. But just as I was getting back into the motions of things, and frankly, minding my own business, I heard my mom say, "He's up in his room." Her voice was closer this time, a little way outside my door.

Oh shit.

The digital projection I was viewing vanished into thin air as I bolted up to my feet, suddenly self-conscious about the state of my room and my fallen pants.

"Max! We have a guest!" My mom's voice called out. She knocked heavily on the door. There was a certain... seriousness in her tone. A certain 'don't fuck this up' energy.

I was giving only a single knock as a warning before the door was pulled open. My heart hammered in my chest as I yanked up my pants. Who the hell could it be? The police? The FBI? Did someone find me out? No way this forum was illegal or something, I wasn't making the content, I'm just a consumer! The possibilities were a whirlwind of anxiety in my mind. My mind was racing over all the possibilities. Which is to say, I still wasn't expecting who I saw...

A deathly curvy, well-dressed yet casual-looking dark skinned beauty, my mom was right behind her, wearing her usual 'what the hell did you do now?' expression on her face behind the woman's back. My jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of the visitor. She was tall, her body a perfect hourglass shape, accentuated by the tight-fitting business suit she wore. Her hair was whiter than freshly fallen snow, cut in a stylish, professional bob, and her dark eyes missed nothing, scanning my room with a critical gaze that made me feel even more self-conscious. She had a clipboard in one hand and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

I didn't even intend to, I really didn't, my eyes trailed down her like she was some guest star in a sitcom entering for a moment of applause. My gaze just sat on the noticeable bulge of her bust, threatening to pop out of the top button that was holding for dear life on her blouse. My gaze flickered up back to her face, but then back down again, and I had to physically pull myself away from staring. She had a face that was both beautiful and intimidating at the same time, a combination that made my stomach do a flip.

"Max, this is Ms. Munroe," Mom said, her voice tight. "She's from a private school. For troubled, youth." She ended that line with a look.

After hearing that, the ebony beauty cleared her throat, "Oh, please don't misunderstand. I represent a school for.. special youth. Most certainly not troubled." She stepped forward, extending a hand. "Please, let me introduce myself personally." When he met her hand, despite it looking soft and feminine, her grip was surprisingly strong, her skin cool to the touch. She could easily crush his hand if she chose to do so, she simply chose not to. "The pleasure is mine, Max. I’m Ororo Munroe—one of the leaders at a private academy for exceptional young minds."

Maybe I was blinded with just how hot she was, and tall... very tall. As I shook her hand directly infront of my face where those melons were sitting so pretty, my brain hadn't put two and two together. My gaze once again lingered at her chest. She cleared her throat again, this time her smile turned a little wry. She noticed, of course, she had, how could she not, the woman just looked so intelligent. She seemed to have such an understanding or grasp of herself and the environment despite just arriving. Giving off an aura of levelheaded understanding that made me feel small and intimidated by existing around her. And she was hot. Like really hot. That also made it hard to focus. I had to physically stop myself from just looking at her rack.

"Ms. Munroe," I stammered, my voice cracking. "Nice to meet you." My mind was still trying to catch up. A private school? For... special youth? What does that mean? Am I in that much trouble? The school decided to ship me away. A special youth? Was this some kind of military school for juvenile delinquents?

"You have a... very... passionate... collection," Ms. Munroe said, her eyes sweeping over the walls of my room. Her gaze lingered on the poster of She-Hulk, a thoughtful expression on her face. It was like she didn't mind. Or at least, wasn't offended. "It's always... achem.. refreshing to see young people with such... enthusiasm."

The way she said 'enthusiasm' made my cheeks burn. She knew. She knew exactly what kind of 'enthusiasm' I was feeling. I was sure of it. She looked way too intelligent not to realize. "Th-Thanks.. um, I just... I just like to collect them. Nothing weird." I stammered, trying to keep my eyes on her face and not on the swell of her chest. I could feel my face flush, my dick twitching in my pants.

Ororo Munroe arched a perfect eyebrow at that, "Nothing weird, you say." Her nostrils flared as the fresh scent of what might actually be cum wafted up her nostrils. She frowned, then promptly approached the window, opening it while saying, "I find that hard to believe. Your mother tells me you've been having some... behavioral issues."

"That's an understatement," Mom muttered, using her shirt to cover her nose. "That boy just sits in his room with his pants..."

"Ms. Lane." The woman interrupted after opening the window and turning. "Please forgive me for interrupting. But could you please give your son and me a moment to talk in private? I promise it won't be long."

Mom let her eyes wander the room with clear disgust before saying, "Be my guest. You better behave yourself," She ordered me with a glare, and exited, closing the door behind her. Suddenly, I was alone with this stunning, intimidating, and frankly, intoxicating woman. I stood there, rooted to the spot, my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. What did she want Mom to leave for? I was waiting for her to say it... 'You're a perverted little creep. I'm here to take you away.' 'I know you're a mutant who uses your powers to spy on women.' 'Stay away from our school.'

Wait, no. No. I'm freaking out. If she wanted me gone, she wouldn't come here and announce herself as representing a school... I'm letting things get to me.

"Max," Ms. Munroe said, after giving a pause to let Mom walk away, her voice soft but firm. "Let's be honest with each other. I know about your... activities. At school. And I know about your... 'collection'." She gestured to the walls. "And I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to offer you a better way."

"A better way?" I asked, my suspicion rising. "What are you talking about? Some boot camp for perverts?"

She chuckled at my attempt at awkward comedy, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "Not at all. I'm here to talk to you about a school that can help you understand your... special nature. A place where you won't be an outcast. A place where you can learn to control your... urges. A place where you won't be the only one." She walked over to my desk, running a single, perfectly manicured finger over a dusty figurine of the Scarlet Witch (that wasn't dust, but luckily she didn't seem to notice the tiny drop of cum that was stuck between the figurine's cleavage. She turned to face me, her expression unreadable.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about..."

"Max," she said, and the way she said my name, it was like she was testing it out, seeing how it felt; her thick accent made my cock twitch. But where have I heard that before... I swear I've heard this voice from my long nights on the forums. "We've been aware of you for some time. Your... unique manifestation of abilities created a bit of a blip on our radar."

My throat was dry. "You... you have?"

She nodded, her eyes locking onto mine. "Technopathy, granted rather low level, yet still enough to give our... scanner's a bit of a challenge. Yet..." She let her eyes wander the room, her gaze resting on a rather explicit candidly shot poster of the hero Storm mid action pose clearly not meant for a picture, in her classic black leather corset outfit, the one that does a damn fine job of propping up those jiggly chocolate milk orbs. She stared at the poster for a long, silent moment. Thick lips, flat and hard to read.

I felt incredibly awkward and followed her gaze.

Wait.

Storm's face on that poster. I swear she looks familiar.

Before I could think about that any more a soft gust of wind seemed to come from the open window and peel it off the wall. I guess I didn't hang that one up properly.

"Ah," she said, her accented voice neutral, "I see you are a fan of Storm, among... the many others here."

"I... uh... It's a cool costume," I managed to **** out, "I like the way the boobs push-" I bit my tongue, realizing my dick was doing too much of the talking, my face burned with embarrassment. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

"Right. Well." she sighed, her gaze returning to me. "In case you don't realize, an enhancement and often out-of-control libido is one symptom of a freshly awakened Mutant-Gene. In time, you will feel yourself cool down, so to speak." She leaned against the windowsill, arms crossed under her chest, pushing them up even more. "That doesn't mean I condone the actions you took at school. But I do understand. To some degree."

"Wait, how did you..." My mind was reeling. Mutant-Gene? Symptom? "Wait... so you're telling me..."

"I'm telling you, Max," she said, her tone gentle but firm, "that what you're experiencing, the changes you're going through, the strange new abilities... It's all a part of something bigger. And you're not alone. I believe you noticed that... down there..." For a brief moment, her eyes glanced down to my crotch, "You are... achem... larger than before, significantly so.. Well, regardless of gender, that is also a byproduct, your proportions become more... developed and... sizable." She pushed off the windowsill and walked towards me, her hips swaying with a confidence that was both alluring and unnerving. "What I am trying to convey is that there are others like you. And we want to help you. We can help you understand your powers, help you control them. Help you channel them... into something more productive."

She stopped right in front of me, so close I could smell the faint scent of warm rain and something else, something clean and electric, like the air after a lightning strike. My eyes were drawn to her chest, to the way her blouse strained against her full, round breasts. I could see the outline trim of her bra pressing against the tight top, a tiny, tantalizing glimpse of something forbidden.

My brain stuttered, trying to process her words. So she knew. As in she knew-knew. She knew everything. A fresh wave of panic washed over me, followed by a strange, dizzying sense of relief. Someone knew. Someone understood.

"S-So... what kind of school are we talking about?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"It's called..." She paused, as if thinking up the name again, her eyes roaming the room, "The... Jean Grey School for Higher Learning," she said. "It's a place in upstate New York. A sanctuary. A place where mutants—young people with special abilities like yours—can learn to control their powers, get a proper education, and... figure out who they are. Without judgment."

My eyes widened. For a second, I thought she was going to say the Xavier school I've read about. I think the X-Men team up with the teachers there, but if the Jean Grey School is anything like it, then it's a place for mutants. For people like me. Without warning, a surge of energy sparked directly to my lower regions.

More people like more. With similar hormones, and.. what did she say? The females are developed. Does unlocking mutant powers also cause tits to enlarge and access to bump out? I did notice my member was decently more girthy than before I turned eighteen. And if the girls had similar reactions...

"So, what do you say? Would you—"

"I'm in." I said, without a moment's hesitation, a stupid grin plastered on my face. "Hell yeah, I'm in. A place filled with hot... achem... special chicks, and I get to learn how to be a superhero and not a... pervert?" My dick was getting hard, and it was getting harder to hide. "It's like you read my mind."

Ms. Munroe couldn't help but let out a light airy laugh, "I'm glad to hear you're so enthusiastic, Max. But I must warn you, it's not all... fun and games. It's a school. With rules. And responsibilities. We expect our students to take their training seriously. And we expect them to treat each other with respect. No more... bathroom incidents."

"I can do that," I said, my mind already racing with possibilities. "I can be respectful. I can follow rules." The lie was so easy, so natural, I almost believed it myself.

She gave me a knowing look. "We'll see about that." She turned and walked to the door, her hips swaying with a confidence that made my cock throb. "Pack a bag. I will handle the paperwork and discuss matters with your mother. We leave in an hour. You only need food, all other provisions will be supplied by the school."

I honestly did not hear a single word she said the moment she turned around, that big black ass was so fat in those tight pants it was like a gravitational anomaly that pulled all my blood south. My mind was a blur. A school for mutants. A school filled with powerful, super-powered women. My hormones were going into overdrive. I had to go. I had to see this for myself. My fear was shifted with perverted anticipation just like that. On pure instinct, I summoned a digital camera and snapped a silent image of her fat ass from behind as she left. I couldn't help myself. It was like a reflex. A bad habit. But a damn good one when it comes to getting fap fuel. I had the file saved and cataloged before I could think twice.

Ms. Munroe opened the door and left, leaving me alone in my room, the scent of her lingering in the air. I stood there for a moment, then suddenly, I was a whirlwind of activity, throwing clothes, my laptop, and a few of my most precious, spunk-stained action figures into a duffel bag. My mind was racing. This was it. This was my chance. My chance to be more than just a perverted prankster. My chance to be... well, I'm not sure, but I can expand my scope to the bigger horizons, and pull some stunts with babes that are actually packed where it matters! And maybe, just maybe, my chance to pull off the ultimate prank with some real heroes. This might not be the Xavier school. I have no idea who Jean Gray is, but if it's another mutant school, maybe some of the X-Men from that other school will show up!

I finished packing quicker than I realized. Outside of clothes, it was mostly figurines and posters crudely stuffed in the bag. I sat on the side of my bed and glanced at the time. There were about twenty minutes left, and I found myself summoning my photo gallery to admire the new addition to my collection. My cock was a steel rod in my jeans as I swiped and zoomed. The picture of Ms. Munroe's backside was glorious, but I wanted more. I wanted to see her front again, her beautiful dark features, and those huge melons. So, with a few mental commands and hand motions, I pulled up an image I had stealthily taken the moment she walked into the room. One of her standing in front of me, her eyes scanning my room, that serious look on her face. Now frozen in time, free for fapping.

I've gotten pretty good at taking sneaky pictures. It helps when I can summon camera displays with a flick of my finger.

But before I could quickly finish my jerking adventure, I noticed a notification menu DING into existence at the corner of my digital window. Honestly, I knew I only had twenty more minutes to jerk one out, and time can fly when it comes to spanking the monkey, but I suppose my curiosity is greater than the urge to jerk, as I couldn't help but tap the notification. The moment I did, a large pop-up window popped into my face, so close I staggered back.

Yeesh, these things scare me sometimes. I always have to make sure to hide windows because Mom caught me with a window open once, but I managed to hide it away before she got a good look, and she was tired, so she dismissed it at the time. But I guess at a school with mutants I won't have to worry.

The screen glowed with a different colored hue than my normal blue projections; this one had more of a slightly pink color scheme.

Welcome to Custom Girls!

Custom Girls is a secret app passed around only to a select few with perverted potential!

Our goal? We’re here to make the world a lot more exciting—and a whole lot sexier. Use the gems we give you to customize the minds, bodies, and lives of the women around you, all while racking up some sexy 'n hot energy in the process! The more spicy energy you generate, the more gems you’ll score, and the more gems you score, the wilder your world becomes! All women are YOURS to customize!

So go ahead—have fun... and start customizing!

Wh-What the heck...?

I saw two new windows pop up in my face, one reading: ''Start tutorial,'' and another reading, ''Skip tutorial.''

Seeing that I didn't know what the hell I was looking at... I pressed start, and another window appeared.

---

Custom Girls: The Basics

Your goal is to have the most debaucherous, perverted fun you possibly can. All women are potential targets for your customization desires. You have a starting pool of gems to spend on them. How do you get more gems? You get them by causing women to feel emotions related to lust, embarrassment, humiliation, submission, control, and arousal. You can also gain points by modification, or simply controlling and messing around with women.

So what can I do with these gems?

You use your gems to purchase modifications for your targets. These can range from minor changes to their bodies, alterations to their minds, or influencing their actions, clothing, awareness, status, behavior, etc. This software is called Custom Girls. Meaning all girls are yours to customize; they just don't know it.

---

That's... that's insane.

The tutorial continued, explaining how the app worked in more detail. There were different categories of modifications, such as: Physical, Mental, Situational, and more. Physical modifications were straightforward: increase breast size, change hair color, make them taller or shorter. Mental modifications were more complex: lower inhibitions, increased libido, implant fetishes, add triggers, **** actions, change awareness, among others. Situational modifications were about controlling their environment and actions: make them trip, make their clothes shrink, make them forget they're wearing underwear.

The tutorial concluded with a prompt: For reading the tutorial, gain 10+ gems!

I saw in the top toolbar of my screen that I now had 20 gems. Oh, right. It did say I got 10 a day, which made 10 after obtaining that reward. But I'm still truly confused by what I'm looking at..

A new window pop-up appeared.

Please Add the First Custom Girl

Below that, a hint bubble read: To add a custom girl, you need to upload pictures of the girl you want to customize. Each girl may require more or less data than the last.

Okay then... huh, who should I add, maybe Mom, or...

Suddenly, my dick twitched, and I was hit with inspiration that I acted on before even thinking. The next thing I knew, I uploaded the full body shot I took of Ms. Munroe, which was received instantly, and I was prompted with a scanning screen. After a few seconds, a window appeared. ''More Data Needed. Image Required: Ass Shot''

Underneath another hint bubble read: Future custom girls may require more challenging images. The first custom girl will only ask for images you currently possess.

Oh right. I do have an ass shot of the same woman... how did this thing know that? Well, whatever. It did somehow hijack my own personal techno windows; I shouldn't be too surprised. My heart was pounding in my chest as I uploaded the second image, the glorious shot of her round, perfect backside. My erection was practically throbbing against the zipper of my jeans. This was... this was insane. I mean, if everything that I read so far was true, this was a dream come true. A literal, honest-to-god dream come true.

After uploading the second image, a new pop-up window appeared in front of me.

First Custom Girl Successfully Added!

Ororo Munroe has been added to your Custom Girls!

The screen then transitioned to a main menu, with Ororo's name at the top. I saw a toolbar at the top left of the screen: Store, Custom Girls, Messages, Help. The main screen itself was dominated by a large, high-resolution 3D image of Ororo, the one I had just taken of her from the front, now T-posing and fully interactable. Her beautiful dark features were captured in stunning detail, her lips fat and pressed together in a flat line, her dark eyes looking directly forward, like a 3D asset unaware it's being gawked at.

I hesitantly poked the T-posing beauty on the tits, and she spun like a toy on the digital screen...

Holy shit.