Wardrobe Malfunction

You can definitely feel the difference when you turn it up to a hundred… you're straining, but you're not crashing.

You start walking through a world that's frozen: Cars are seemingly parked on the street, birds are just hanging in mid air… oh, that hummingbird's wings are moving lazily… and the world is dead silent. You quickly discover a problem, though: You move. Your clothes… not so much. They pretty much disintegrate, the sections of them on you in the direction you're moving flattening out to being about as thin as a coat of paint, the rest tearing off.

Your teacher doesn't seem to notice, “Okay, now, at this speed, if you pitch a baseball, you're going to get at least mach eight out of it, and mach ten or eleven isn't out of the question. When speedsters get serious, they win fights…” You start to get a little dizzy, and tick the watch back down. “...if they can keep it up. Decoys will be your bane. Bending time is hard, and an opponent who knows this will try to get you to waste your magic.”

Meanwhile, the fragments of your clothes that remain shoot off you, fluttering very slowly to the ground… oh, shoes too. Yay. “Umm… what am I supposed to do about…” you gesture at the fluttering fragments of your clothes.

“Hmm?” The doc pauses, “...oh, the nudity taboo thing. I really don't get it… cultural differences, I suppose. Well… I suppose you're just going to have to keep moving fast enough that nobody can see.”

“You bastard…” you whisper as you grsb your wallet and keys (phone already in hand) and start jogging.

“My parents weren't married in the sense you're used to," the ring chuckles, “but I was legit enough for the time.”

The rest of the trip home is its own special kind of torture: You jog barefoot and naked, hands holding your breasts to keep the bouncing under control, at the ten speed tick to rest your soul while still being fast enough that cameras won't get anything too embarrassing… hopefully. You walk barefoot and naked to rest your body with the bracelet set at the hundred notch to rest your body.

Cheeks burning, you find yourself feeling warm despite the cool of the afternoon. All those people you're passing… you hope you're fast enough thay they can't see… but they might… they could be looking at you… huge boobs, a bubble butt… you'd stare.

All those people… looking at you… imagining what they'd do with you… lusting after you… wanting you… you feel warm, hollow… and something is running down your legs? Ah… you're horny. Very much so. Ooh, but it feels good… can't stop to deal with it… ooh…

You're trapped in a cycle of escalating arousal: The more you're aroused, the more you notice the people around you, the more aroused you get. After an eternity of exquisite torment, you lean against your front door… fumble with the keys… open the door… step inside… and collapse on the couch. You take a few minutes to just breathe, turning the bracelet down to normal speed, feeling the tension change…. and no fading of the arousal.

And then you hear your mother from the kitchen, “Hey Brad, how'd it go at…” she trails off as she sees you, “That bad, huh?”

“Turns out it's a super power, not a curse…” you begin, “...I am training to be a super hero, and it is exhausting.” You take a moment to look over your mother:

She is FINE, the years have been kind to her. She's a real blonde MILF with huge boobs, a big ass, a tiny waist, long hair, smooth skin, blue eyes, puffy lips, and a small nose, dressed as a fifties housewife… and you're still horny as all get out. Hmm… She looks concerned in your spotless living room, “...and apparently I inherited some of it from you…” you pause, “...you were a man?”

Your mother sighs, “‘That which you believed me to be, so shall you be.’” She pauses, tilting her head, “how do you know?”

“Doc said my soul killed and ate the curse, and this, of all things, is actually my natural form,” you shrug, “Nothing to cure. But my holding a male form for eighteen years apparently gave me some kind of super energy that he can train into a good super power… if I don't mind being in my natural form. Super powers sound awesome, and I'm not fucking anyone with my condition anyway.”

“Brad! Language!” Your mother frowns at you. Then stops, “...but given that you came home naked, I suppose you've had a really bad day, so I can excuse it right now. Umm… where's my car?”

“Back at the doctor's office,” you really need to get some relief, you're having trouble thinking clearly, “which reminds me… he mentioned he could probably cure you if you want it?”

“I'm reasonably confident, yes.” The doctor's voice speaks in your head.

Your mother, for her part, considers for a long time, “Could he fix the ID problem as well?” She sits down on a recliner and leans back, “I had to… bribe… a few men to get something I could use.”

“Non-issue, we can fill out the paperwork,” the dragon confirms, “I would need to borrow your body out of schedule for about an hour to handle the de-cursing, and place a call to an assistant for the paperwork”

“Yes,” you relay, “he said it's a non-issue.”

“Then yes, I miss being a man,” your mother answers instantly, “how do I book an appointment?”

“I'm free now if you are,” the ring chuckles on your finger.

“I channel him, kind of,” you take a breath, “and yes, I'm ready.”

You feel a brief disconnect…