Derek Taylor, Gotham Academy student

Derek Taylor trudged along the sidewalk. His Gotham Academy school uniform fluttered slightly in the February wind. Buildings of varying shapes and sizes rose on either side of the road adjacent to his sidewalk. He followed the architecture of one of the sprawling skyscrapers up to behold the sky. A billowing near-black gray expanse of clouds that left the city in near-darkness. Only the artificial light of the buildings and street lamps seemed to provide a level of illumination significant enough for himself and the pedestrians around him to see the sidewalk in front of them.

Derek heard a faint thundering rumble echo from the clouds. A white-blue crackle of lightning flashed in the distance like an electric sun before disappearing as fast as it had arrived, scorching his sight with its passage and leaving the city somehow darker than it was before.

It always felt like night in Gotham City. As long as Derek could remember, the sun shined less brightly there than everywhere else he had been. It was as if the whole of Gotham were at the bottom of the ocean, swallowed by the Stygian abyss of one of the deep ocean trenches. Come to think of it, the dark clouds above looked slightly like distant waves crashing on a far-off shoreline…

A car alarm wailed in the distance, faint synthetic shrieks echoing through the street. Distant shouting followed, accompanied by loud metallic pops and what sounded like a woman’s anguished scream.

Then silence.

The pedestrians around him didn't look up from their smartphones.

Just another day in Gotham.

"Hey, what the-" a balding, slightly obese man in his forties complained when he shuffled past Derek, colliding with his shoulder with enough **** to stagger him slightly. The man turned to glare at him, but stopped. He blinked his light brown eyes confusedly before shaking his head and moving on, ignoring the boy completely.

"Watch where you're going, asshole!"

The obese man had collided with a woman who looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties. Her dark brown hair was tied in a ponytail that had swished from side to side as she walked. She dropped her beige leather bookbag in the collision, spilling important-looking paper documents and folders all over the sidewalk.

Derek shook his head and smirked.

Okay, maybe I went a little overboard with that illusion. Though, that woman isn’t bad looking.

"Shit! Didn't see ya lady, sorry!" The man shook his head and put a distance between himself and the woman. She glared at him with bright blue eyes before letting out a huff of frustration. She bent down to start gathering the papers from the sidewalk, presenting Derek with her big round ass. It strained the tight confines of pencil skirt deliciously.

His manhood twitched.

He glanced at his watch. A gleaming silver Rolex he’d swiped from a pawn shop that very morning. It had probably been bought from a thief, or perhaps the people who operated the pawnshop stole the watch themselves. Who rightly knew? In Gotham, there was little distinction between legitimate businesses and the criminals who populated the city. Even the government was largely seen to be firmly in the pocket of mob bosses like Carmine Falcone and the Penguin. People often denied it in public of course, if only to maintain the thin veneer of civility over Gotham that had perished long ago.

It didn’t really bother him; the corruption of his home city. As an amateur thief himself, he took a piece of the pie that was Gotham whenever he could, because he could. He wasn’t on Catwoman’s level by any stretch of the imagination; he doubted Batman would treat him very nicely if he caught him stealing anything truly valuable and he was still unwilling to test if his abilities would have any effect on the Caped Crusader, who seemed a master illusionist in his own right. The man had an aura about him that seemed to give pause to even the biggest players in Gotham’s criminal underworld. Derek supposed that was what it took for a mortal man to walk alongside veritable demigods like Superman and Wonder Woman. His mother and sisters loved them all - heroes, members of the Justice League and their affiliates, eager like so many others to embrace something greater than themselves. He wondered what they’d say if they knew he had powers.

He dismissed his musings with a shake of his head. It had always been easy for him to get lost in thought. He blamed his metahuman ability.

"I should still have time before class starts,” he muttered, biting his lip as his heart thudded in his chest. “Could I…?”

After the woman had gathered her papers from the ground, she glanced into a nearby alleyway. The narrowness of the space between the buildings meant that what little light shined through the gray Gotham sky and the street lamps barely reached it. Row upon row of fire escapes crisscrossed the alley like rust-covered spiderwebs glimmering metallically in the dark.

To her, however, the alleyway appeared bright and clean; more friendly and inviting than the street.

There was a faint pulse behind Derek’s eyelids as he felt the illusions take hold in the woman’s **** mind, his imagination polluting her perception like blood in water.

The woman muttered a curse under her breath and walked past him, giving the eighteen year-old an eyeful of her breasts, which looked large even through her blouse and businesses jacket. He reached over to give her hefty right breast a squeeze through her blouse. The soft flesh of her upper bosom felt nice to his hand even through the material of her top. She kept walking as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Derek grinned and followed her into the alley. As soon he felt that they were away from the prying eyes of other pedestrians, he grabbed two handfuls of her thick bubble butt. He kneaded and prodded and pinched her as she walked.

"I can't believe the wind blew them all the way over here," the woman shook her head and bent over in front of him, unknowingly pressing her ample rear into his crotch. His clothed cock poked her between her buttcheeks.

Her hands grasped at the air below her, gathering objects only she could see.

Derek took the opportunity to reach into her purse and withdraw her wallet.

About two-hundred dollars in her purse. Kinda risky to be carrying that around. Is she not from around here?

He compulsively pocketed a hundred dollar bill, leaving the rest before withdrawing her driver’s license.

Amanda Thompson. 29 years old. Apartment 305 at the Red Atlantic. Definitely not doing too bad for herself money-wise and keeps herself in shape. Maybe I’ll pay her a visit someday.

He smirked perversely as images of what he’d do to the oblivious older woman in a more private setting streamed across his mind.

He took a moment to memorize her information before sliding the ID and wallet back in the purse where he found them. He glanced at the shapely woman again, tracing her curves as she continued to fumble around the dirty alley floor.

Hm. I probably still have time to get a look at her tits.

Derek walked around Amanda until he stood in front of her. He blinked, guiding the woman’s perceptions again. Gently, he reached his arms under hers and drew her up until she stood up straight. Her eyes darted around without seeing him, as if she were looking for something else and finding it before beginning the search anew.

The teenager gulped audibly before he unbuttoned the woman’s coat.

“Why did Pierce make me bring so goddamned many of them? I’m gonna to be so late,” the woman said suddenly, and Derek had to remind himself that she couldn’t perceive him, and that as far as she knew she was still gathering her papers off the alley floor.

He reached his right hand to her blouse. Her top button came undone and then another and another, gradually revealing more of her creamy white cleavage.

So big…

He feasted his eyes on her cleavage. He licked his lips and reached a hand out-

Beep! Beep! Beep!

“What the hell?” Derek started at the sudden noise. He looked at Amanda’s face to find her eyes still following the tune of his illusions.

Where the hell is that coming from? Wait…

He sighed and checked his watch again.

“How about that?” he muttered, depressing a button on the side of the watch. The light beeping ceased.

Guess whoever owned the watch before me had something important going on at 7:50 in the morning. Wait, 7:50? Crap, that only leaves me ten minutes to get to class! I’d better start moving.

Reluctantly, he re-buttoned Amanda’s blouse and coat before moving away from her. He was back on the sidewalk by the time he released the woman from her artificial delusion.

He heard Amanda sigh. “Glad that’s over with,” she said.

She blinked rapidly for a moment and shook her head as she made her way back to the street. Her hefty knockers bounced and jiggled slightly.

As Derek watched Amanda walk away, her wide hips swaying sensuously, he promised himself he’d try to visit her when he had the chance.

The low rumble in the sky returned. Light droplets of cold rain pattered against his uniform. The teenager shook his head at his misfortune and took off in a jog towards his school.