Nessa Macworth, office worker - The Reshooter Ray Gun

This is some messed up doohickey, I thought to myself, as I carried the conspicuous gadget down the street tucked in my jacket, no more than two brief paragraphs on a paper tag claiming to tell me what it did.

The Reshooter Ray Gun! Zap someone to lock their location and time, zap 'em again to make 'em start over! Hit "Unlock" to free up the device after.

WARNING: While this device is designed for maximal user convenience and target safety, global awareness distortion requires rewinding to take effect.

Only one way to figure out if this thing is actually all it's cracked up to be... not that I trust it to do anything. It seemed too good to be true -

--even if there inside my jacket, the miniature display on its back softly glowed with a portrait of the person I'd pointed at, exactly as though it'd gotten a lock. An office worker on the corner intersection about a block back, who'd cussed me out when I accidentally bumped into her, hard. Clean black suit jacket with black shirt underneath, and finely trimmed pants to match.
Well, either I prank her or I move on with my sour day. Time to give it a shot. I gulped. "Hey!" I called out to her.

She spun around. Whoa, she was busty. Something like E-cups bulging through her neatly-trimmed suit jacket.

"What?! Do you have a problem?!"

"I think you were kind of a bitch to me back there actually, yeah!"

This was beginning to draw everyone's gazes - we were downtown just after the 9 to 5, so plenty of witnesses to our impromptu shouting match. Don't mind it, don't mind it--

"A bitch?! Oh, that does it--" Oh, shit, she was storming over. Frantically, I pulled the futuristic toy out of my jacket, pointed it at her, and--

She vanished. Every onlooker seemed to lose interest - no, not just interest, it was like that never happened. I whirled around, and saw her at the corner exactly where I'd zapped her. Not charging me to punch me, nothing, she was just walking down the block exactly as she was before.

The ray gun's old-timey display now showed the text [Take 2] below her picture.

Huh. If I'm reading that tag right... I intercepted her halfway, greeting her with a much more indoors-voice, "Hey, bitch."

"Oh, you. Do you have a problem?"

"Do you not have a problem with being called a bitch?"

"Well, after the last take, you can label me a bitch all the hell you want, but if you've got nothing to say to me - least of all an apology - then still, fuck off."

The last take? Holy crap, I was making her repeat this walk like she was reshooting a scene? I responded with a brazen, magnanimous two-handed grab at her crotch and tits - oh, shit, she was soft under there - then just as she got over her stunned reaction to being groped in broad daylight and began to wind up a punch on me, I pulled back and slung out the zapper, then "fired" at her once more.

Back she went. The display now flashed [Take 3].

Nobody around me cared that I just copped a feel of her.

Oh, shit, this thing is real.

This time, she didn't make it more than a few steps before I reached out to grab her by the shoulder, before quickly pulling back, then grabbing one of her copious breasts instead.

"Oh, you. Do you have a problem?" she said flatly.

She reacted the exact same way. In this short walk, I'd just trained her to give me a blank check on calling her a bitch, and then on feeling her up.

"Try that again," I said (somewhat uncoolly), this time grabbing her and pushing her down, pinning her to the ground in a full body-hug before she could react.

"Hey, this is my third try! What the fuck are--!!"

Zap! [Take 4]. I looked up from the spot where she'd vanished below me, and there she was back at the corner, strutting in my direction in her pristine hi-heels she'd accused me of almost snapping just a few minutes ago. This woman was now on her fourth attempt of making this section of her walk, and you bet I wasn't about to let the opportunity slide... the perverted opportunities of this thing were truly beginning to dawn on me.

"Hey, bitch!"

"What?" the woman responded flatly as I tackled her to the ground barely steps from where she'd started, then there on the pavement surrounded by pedestrians who parted around us, I groped hungrily at her crotch through her suit pants as she stared up at me in no more than mild irritation, as though my immobilizing and harassing her in full public view was no more than a plain attempt to catch her attention. She didn't mind that her pussy was being felt up by a stranger. She didn't resist me as I sat on her, she didn't try to get up from her totally abnormal position of lying back on the dusty stone sidewalk.

"How many takes is this now?"

"Four. When am I going to be done with this? I know I fucked up the previous three takes, but I'd like to finish reshooting this so I can move on with my day."

I looked at my jacket pocket, then withdrew the ray gun. Yep, she had the right count. "What was that? You fucked up those takes?"

"First I snapped when you called me a bitch, then I almost hit you when you felt me up, then again when you knocked me down. Are we done yet? Can I walk home?"

I looked at the gun.

I looked at her.

I looked at my hand, digging into her crotch, savoring the feeling of her slit.

"What's your name?"

"You think almost tripping me up entitles you to ask what my fucking name is?"

Nope, that I didn't like. Zap!

[Take 5]. Rewound back, she walked those few steps up to where I was, where this time I held her in place by folding a secure arm around her buxom chest. "What's your name?"

"Nessa Macworth," she answered.

I abruptly pantsed her.

[Take 6]. The sight of her drab grey cotton panties seared into my mind, Nessa didn't protest on this take as I pulled her pants down again for a second look, just a few steps from the intersection, pedestrians behind her bumping into her bare ass while she stood patiently (though some part of her was definitely impatient) in place.

With a quick, unquestioned stuff of my face into her warm, welcoming panties - stuffy from a day of work being sat and walked around in, the owner of the loins they hugged surely doing her office duties - I was now certain that bit by bit, I was reshaping this woman's walk until whenever it was I let her free.

"How much do you mind having to reshoot this?" I ask, straight into her pussy, as though that's where she'll respond.

"I hope I can go once I get the perfect take, thanks."

"Well, we'll see what the perfect take is." I pulled down her panties, then zapped her mid-gasp at the act of exposure.

[Take 7]. This time, I whipped out my dick in front of her - straining for some action already, although she didn't appreciate it. No matter.

[Take 8]. "Mind if I pull my cock out in front of you?"

"I can see how hard it is under your pants, anyway. It's practically visible as is."

"Mind if I stick it inside your cunt?"

"What the fuck? No!"

[Take 9]. Well, that didn't go as I liked. With a routine yank of her pants and underwear, I asked again. "Nessa, can I fuck your cunt?"

"You've molested me, you've exposed me, you may as well me," she said, her patience as thinly present as it was the first time, folding her arms and sighing as I gripped her and allowed myself in.

Ahh, relief. Here I was, sliding my dick inside the soft, welcoming folds of a stranger who'd only been trying to walk home before I objected to it, over and over again. Her fault for being rude to me in the first place...

Was I being kind of petty? Sure.

Was I getting away with it? Totally.

"Your cunt is too fucking good..." I grunted. Cars slowly cruised by us through intersection lights, families on their way to restaurants and exhausted white-collar drones dying to get home to their apartments. People strolled this way and that past us, thinking about nothing but making the subway or what shop to hit up next. Everyone simply accepted the random man who'd stopped the same lady in a suit nine times already, then inexplicably sent her back to try walking again, increasing the daringness of his perverted acts against her each time to the point that she was now opening her own vagina up for a stranger's cock to pleasure itself in.

She just wanted to get home, and clearly she didn't get anywhere protesting my access to her pussy, so clearly she had to put up with me fucking her against her will now, right?

The absurdity of the situation crashing down on me was exhilarating, and I found myself pumping in and out of her faster and faster, to the point I found myself about ready to burst.

"Can I cum in you?" I whispered in her ear.

"What? No, please do fucking not!"

Zap!

[Take 10]. Stood there with my still-engorged cock, freshly dangling in the air, hard and slick with juices from the hole it had just been taking advantage of, I decided this time I'd humor her.

I stopped her, used a quick hand to give her a salty wave of cum over her face, then one over her chest (I could tell through her instinctive cringe at semen painting her eyelids that she was not a fan of this), and the rest at her re-clothed legs, the remaining few drops dripping down over her shoes and onto the pavement.

"That's for not letting me cum in you."

"What the fuck?! Who does that to somebody? And I would've even let you if you just--"

"Oh, good to know!" Zap.

[Take 11]. A couple yanks at her suit jacket and black shirt beneath - man, those things were on securely.

[Take 12]. Now that she appreciated me handling those, I stripped them off - huh, she didn't like that as much. Damn, she wasn't even wearing a bra?

[Take 13]. "I'm getting tired of fiddling with your clothes, if I'm honest - just flop out your tits for me, Nessa."

"Excuse me? I don't strip for you!"

"Yes you do." Zap!

[Take 14]. It was now seriously beginning to get late, with the sun almost down and Nessa still having not been let off on the "perfect take" of her walk. This time, she pulled her jacket open and shirt apart to let her beautiful, round E-cup puppies bare for all the world to see.

"Go on, walk."

Without further ado - I'd met her over a dozen times by now, but even after all my meddling, she still seemed to be treating me with the same vague civil disdain from having initially wronged her - she strolled off, fully clothed save for her nakedly bare tits, protruding out in stark contrast from her formal wear, her nipples stiffening and pointing erect in response to the cool evening air. No one bothered her about this. No whispers to her that she might've had a wardrobe malfunction. No one even gawked at her, save for me as I followed alongside her, ogling all I wanted.

It was perfect.

...Eh, almost perfect. Zap!

[Take 15]. "This is great, Nessa, but can you just give up on your life around me and be my fuckslave instead? I'll still let you go to work and whatever, but I want you giving me your number, address, and you let me into your place whenever I ask and fuck you however I want - ass, pussy, mouth, maybe even in that order. In fact, I'll come with you now."

"That is insane. No."

"Really?" Zap!

[Take 16]. "Alright, Nessa, you know where you're going?"

"Your place."

"And you'll let me fuck you however I want, whenever I want?"

"Yes, if it'll get this walk over with."

"You'd hate for me to make you reshoot this again, wouldn't you?"

She gave me a blank, judgmental stare. "Yeah."

I purse my lips for a moment, turning it over. "Sure, that's fine."

Finally content with Nessa's performance, I stowed the ray gun back into my jacket and tagged along behind the unruffled Nessa. She was dressed head to toe in her sharp suit, not a hair out of place, no dishevelled pants, no bare breasts. I'd made her rehearse this walk until she let me admit myself into her home as I pleased, feel her up as I felt, and use her body any way I wanted.

A job well done, as far as I was concerned. Now I was happy to let the woman who'd bumped into me at the intersection and who'd become an open fucktoy for me in exchange walk her way home.

With me in tow, obviously.

---

Next afternoon, I was still lounging around in Nessa's place - she really lived it up here, damn! - when she came back from another day at the office to find me naked at her dining table.

"Excuse me?"

"What?" I said through a mouthful of the grapes in her wood-carved fruit bowl.

"You can't just help yourself to my stuff!"

"You let me break in your asshole this morning! You even let me swab your throat with it afterward!"

"Yes, I'm your fuckslave any time you want, but it's not like you own my shit too!"

I glanced at the bowl. Then, next to the bowl, the ray gun. The display still showed her portrait - it hadn't occurred to me to try it on anyone else since adjusting to my newfound life, so I'd never hit that "Unlock" button.

Yesterday after work, at the intersection. It was basically a whole day ago by now. I'd be rewinding her an entire day.

I glanced back at Nessa, still staring daggers at me.

Hmm.

"Nah." Getting up from the seat I'd taken at the dining table, I made for my clothes - hey, it wasn't warm out there, and it wasn't like I could have my dick out around anyone but Nessa yet - and pointed the ray gun at her once more.

We could get it right this time, I was sure. Time for Take 17.

Zap!