Spending 'Time' Outside

Four hours passed; the X-Mansion, the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, formally known as Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, though after the aptly named Xavier's prolonged absence and a series of voting, the rebranded and reinstitutionalized Jean Grey School for Higher Learning was a ghost town. Not due to the fallout of the destruction of Apocalypse, it wasn't an otherworldly attack from Thanos, nor the result of a major attack via a common foe from the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, not even the faded and recurring threat of humanity's aggression; but a simple quiet Sunday. A still Sunday. A time-stopped Sunday. One that encompassed the entire world itself. Birds suspended mid-air, ocean waves crested but never broke, a thousand tragedies and a million moments of joy were all held in suspension. Life itself had been put on hold. The halls were eerie, one could say; on the upper floors, clad in her usual teacher's blouse, sharp browline glasses, and tightly fitted business jeans over a curvy ass. The asian honey-clad skinned Betsy Braddock was poised mid-lecture; a tough but caring teacher, she was standing before the class leaning against the front desk, with one hand, the other rested on the slim curve of her wide hips, filling in for Jean, her shapely peach-shaped rump accentuated by the fabric of her jeans jutting out into the air. Like a statue poised for sex appeal. It was the perfect shape of a heart when viewed from behind. Her other hand, holding a stylus, was pointed at the holographic display behind her. Her face, a mix of seriousness and care, was frozen as she was in the middle of explaining the complexities of telekinetic energy manipulation, her lips parted around the word 'resonance'.

The students were a gallery of youthful postures in various stages of learning and distraction. Some leaned forward, rapt with attention, their faces alight with the glow of the hologram. Others slouched in their seats, heads propped on hands, eyes glazed over. One boy in the back had a spitball frozen mid-flight, aimed at the back of a girl's head. In the corner, a young mutant with reptilian features was slowly, unconsciously shedding a piece of skin, the flake hanging in the air like bizarre, living confetti. They were all locked in their little pocket of existence, unaware that the lesson on psychic resonance had been indefinitely extended.

Directly below them, within the school's gymnasium, the class was led by Rogue; the southern belle was clad in her typical X-Men attire, the skintight yellow and green suit that left little to the imagination save for her brown jacket, one which was too small to ever be usable for its intended purposes. She loomed above the class, floating over with both hands on her absurdly curvaceous hips; beneath Megan Gwynn, the heroine known as Pixie, was up against Magik, in a combat simulation one performed outside of the Danger Room, something only a few appointed teachers were allowed to supervise. Rogue, for how carefree and casual she was with her students, did know when to put her foot down, and watched the two fight with intense focus, ready to intervene the second things were to go out of hand. But the two were some of the best students; Magik's practically an instructor in her own right with how often they partake in missions together. Regardless, even the curvy southern girl's intensity was put on pause; her eyes glazed and unfocused, as were everyone else's. The sly smirk watching the two never shifted, never twitched, never thought.

In the garage, Piotr Rasputin, Colossus, stood over his beloved motorcycle, a wrench in hand. He was a mountain of a man, even in his human form, all broad shoulders and thick limbs. Working with him, bent over the engine compartment, was Kitty Pryde. Her striped jeans were snug, hugging the curve of her hips and ass, a faded band t-shirt clinging to her back. A smear of grease decorated her cheek. They were in the middle of a project, a quiet, shared task of metal and oil. Kitty was frozen mid-sentence, explaining something utterly unrelated about what she saw outside just a little while ago, relating it to what the two were working on, her finger pointing to a specific valve. Back up, in the higher floors looming above the main courtyard, only a few doors down from the Headmistress' office itself, Emma Frost, the White Queen, had been in the middle of her usual ritual. It was a daily occurrence for her to enter her diamond form while trying on a different gem, one sourced from every city in the world. To see how they would compare to the perfect beauty that was her own radiance. Today she stood before the full-length mirror in her private chambers, one arm raised, her fingers lightly tracing the line of her jaw.

She wore a simple, elegant white silk robe, loosely tied, offering an obscenely tantalizing glimpse of the cleavage beneath. Though compared to her usual lace corset attire, it was more modest than anything. Her platinum blonde hair was immaculate, not a single strand out of place. She was a woman who valued control and perfection above all else, now, a living sculpture of her own creation. Literally, in fact, she was frozen, with everyone else within her diamond form. She was simply a sculpture, her expression one of cool, detached self-assessment, her blue eyes fixed on her own reflection, a reflection that was just as frozen as she was. Objectification in the literal sense, she no longer existed as a flesh and blood queen of mutants, but a sculpture suspended in time itself, waiting to be poised and presented to the leering use of others. In her hands she held a gem whose radiance paled against her own diamond skin; both the object and the woman-made object were held in a perfect stillness, for her to admire the difference, to bask in her own supremacy.

The gardens were a riot of frozen color. Sunbeams, arrested mid-cascade, illuminated the petals of a thousand flowers, each one a perfect, dew-kissed jewel. Bees were suspended in the air, their wings a blur of translucent motion, their tiny legs dusted with pollen. The wind itself was still, leaving leaves and branches in poses of impossible grace. The world was a photograph, infinitely detailed, utterly lifeless. All of it was quiet, all of it was still. Amara Aquilla, the lava-based, brown-skinned, Afro-Brazilian-accented mutant known as Magma, had a look of amused annoyance on her face that told a story of both anger and humor; a history was formed there for her to both be ticked off, yet also unable to keep a smile from her lips. She had a hand on her wide, shapely hips, her tight jeans hugging her thick thighs and round, plump ass. Her right glute looked extra fat, considering her pose had one leg extended back; she was mid-movement, about to be in a full sprint, while her free hand had half-shapshifted into her full lava form. Prepared to throw a fireball, her fiery, temperamental personality was evident even in stillness, a stark contrast to the serene backdrop of the gardens. Amara was clearly in the middle of something with a fellow student, a lanky teen around her age whose skin was covered in a thick layer of ice. She was about to say something if her open mouth was anything to go by, but now, she was a statue of simmering magma, her brown skin seeming to absorb the light, her dark eyes flashing with a fire that was trapped within her.

The X-Mansion, the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning, one that stood as a beacon of hope and a sanctuary for the strange, was a silent, still monument to the life that had been before the sudden freeze, the pause that could very well stretch on forever. The central hub of this silent school was the observation deck, where it all began. Jean Grey and Ororo Munroe remained in their absurd, undignified poses. Jean's ass was still high in the air, the green suit a second skin, the fabric deep within the valley of her cheeks. Her back was arched, her head bowed, her hair a crimson cascade against the polished floor. She held a flat, unaware, obliviously inexpressive blankness on her beautiful freckled features. The stylus was still just beyond her fingertips, a tantalizingly close prize. Ororo was still before the mirror, her arms propping up her magnificent breasts; those presented globes had not moved a millimeter. The fresh drool on her skin had not evaporated; her head remained tilted, her gaze still fixed on the glistening drool.

There they remained.

And remained.

The X-Mansion was a mausoleum of the living. Every room, every corner, held a scene frozen in a single, endless moment. The silence was absolute, broken only by the non-existent ticking of clocks that had long since ceased their march. If they could tick, they would have revealed the length to which this endless cycle extended...

Everyone stayed where they were, not that they had much of a choice in the matter.

For over eight hours.

In Westchester, I was having the time of my life. After I took a long nap to lessen my headache - honestly, I had gone a bit crazy before. But it was fun, and I was certainly not done with the madness I was planning to partake in. Firstly, when I had entered my sister's room, let's just say I didn't have the best intentions. Her ass was just sitting there, waiting to be slapped; it's like even when unconscious, she subconsciously poses in the most tease-inducing ways. I slapped her butt, and she jolted awake, "H-uh?! Wha-!?"

She groggily looked around, seeing me, her own annoying brother, standing there with a wide grin. Her hair was a mess, she had drool on her pillow, and she looked utterly confused.

"Wha- Dexter? What are you—?" she started to ask, but I had already started to rewind. Her words were sucked back into her mouth, her body language reversed. She lay back down, her head hitting the pillow, her body relaxing into the position she had been in before I had woken her. The world rewound with me. The only thing that was real to me, the only thing I could control.

"Oh?? You want me to slap your ass again, sis?" I chuckled, "If you insist."

I raised my hand... and let it fall. The satisfying smack echoed in the room, and she jolted awake again. "H-uh?! Wha-!?"

"Groggy, are we? Let's fix that." I said, and rewound her again. And again. And again. I must have slapped her ass and made her wake up at least fifty times. Each time, the same confused, sleepy expression. Each time, the same jolt. Each time, the same satisfying smack. I was in control. I was the one pulling the strings. She was my puppet. Fuck it, the world was my puppet, it seems. Outside, I noticed, because I didn't specify for Sydney to rewind, everything was moving back, the same as pausing and fast-forwarding.

At one point I just let things play at x8 speed; Sydney ran out of the room, no doubt to rat me out to Mom, only for her to find her mother's time-frozen state covered in my cum; which was exactly when I rewound her back to her bed, sleeping soundly for another heavy SLAP to her buttocks.

Poor Sydney was in a loop of abuse, but this was a long time coming. Besides, technically, it never happened if I undid it. Well, to her and the rest of the world, it never happened. But this? Me fucking her frozen butt? That did happen.

Or right, I fucked her in the ass while she was frozen, drool still creasing down her cheeks; the girl was paused while in the middle of her sleep. But I did change her face to a wide-grinned smile, looking directly up at me while I plapped her up and down on my crotch. With time stopped, physics worked how I wanted to, and I was able to determine her weight to be light enough for me to move up and down like a human fleshlight easily, but heavy enough that her weight would provide a solid, meaty plapping sound that echoed throughout her bedroom.

My stamina never ended; it was maddening. I didn't stop because I was unable to go on. No, it was the damn headache building that pushed me a tad too far. Things were getting blurry, and I had to eventually take a break. It was a good chance to test something new. So after my sister was filled like a stuffed donut, I posed her next to Mom in the master bedroom. Made sure they both had their lips puckered and kissing one another, the older woman's massive breasts mashing against her daughter's smaller but still large and perky pair. Their lips were perfectly pressed together, in a loving embrace glazed by the shower of my seed.

Then I decided to leave time frozen, but specifically told my mother and sister, "Mom, and Sydney freeze." Specifically so that they'd remain frozen if I decided to resume time. After that, I just started to unwind.

I had all the time to myself. But I didn't want to do anything that got the blood flowing. Obviously, these aches had to be a result of my power. My immature worldview was attributing this to video-game logic. I felt like I had a meter of sorts, and constantly pausing, rewinding, fast-forwarding, not Sydney specifically but all of time itself, must put a strain on the whole headache meter. And something told me if that counter cracked, time would either instantly resume, or something in me would crack with it. So instead of straining myself, I wanted to see if keeping time paused, but not doing anything else, and just relaxing would help.

I played some video games, relaxed all over the house, and made an absolute mess of things. I was in Mom's bed with my mother and sister, splayed across the living room floor in a pile of food I snagged from the pantry. I unfroze my gaming consoles and just started playing video games. Hell, I even got into Mom's wine cabinet; she keeps the absurdly expensive shit in here. It's so expensive she has a lock and an alarm on it. I respect that, not taking any risks. But she didn't anticipate her son with time-stopping powers physically breaking through the glass and not caring about the alarm because time itself was fucking frozen. So when I returned to my bed, with Mom and Sydney now with me, two human body pillows covered in bread crumbs, whine, dirty clothes, and chip dust with candy wrappings, Sydney's face now forced into a frown with my underwear shoved up her mouth. Mom's making a forced smile with her daughter's underwear shoved in her mouth. I fell asleep, making sure to unfreeze my phone so that I could have a timer for when I woke up.

If sleep unpaused time and restored Mom and Sydney, well, I'd just rewind them, and nothing would be the problem. That's honestly what I expected; I was kind of anticipating that their reactions were gold every time. Frankly, it’s the best part. Or maybe the best part is being able to touch as many tiddies as I want without any semblance of restraint.

But in the end, it didn’t matter, as that didn't happen. Six hours later… after I woke up... everything was still paused.

Huh.

It's been eight hours, no, nine hours, because I wasted three of those playing around doing dumb shit around the house. Then slept for six.. I expected time to resume; moving around had made my headache a bit worse, so I assumed I was reaching my limit. But after sleeping... well...

I didn't feel better, that's for sure; maybe I was marginally more relaxed, but it wasn't that noticeable in the grand scheme of things. If I had to put a number down, it felt like my mental meter went down from 60% to 54%; I was still fairly dizzy. Unlike this morning when... well, to everyone else it's still the morning, but when I first woke up I felt fully refreshed.

If I had to guess, relaxing helped a bit, but keeping time stopped was what was really putting strain on things. But with that said. It didn't get worse. Relaxing did help keep it at the current level; it's a lack of action that kept things low, while moving around, playing games, and whatnot, and low-energy activities did still move the bar up somewhat. "Alright," I yawned to my two frozen family members, "If keeping time stopped was the problem, I think it's about time I resume things, huh? What do you guys think?" I asked them, and after a brief moment of waiting for their underwear-stuffed faces to reply, I chuckled, "Don't wanna talk? Hah... thought you wouldn't. Welp, Time start."

Suddenly, life sprang back into motion. As if it never stopped.

Birds took flight from where they were suspended; the world outside my window continued its day. I could hear the distant hum of traffic. The gentle rustle of leaves in the wind. The tick of my clock. All the normal sounds of a normal Sunday morning. Besides me, Mom and Sydney remained frozen, as expected since I had specifically told them to freeze. "Alright, I'll be back later; don't miss me." I said, hopping up to my feet, waving bye to the frozen females, "I'd give you two a kiss goodbye but..." I looked at the drool and underwear-stuffed faces, "Maybe not after you guys brush your teeth.

I walked out of my room, leaving them in their frozen states. It was weird to walk through a living world again, to see the world moving at its normal pace. The clock on my phone confirmed what I'd already known internally; it was 1:47 PM. The same morning. I'd stolen over nine hours from the universe, and no one was the wiser. The headache was still there, a dull thrum behind my eyes, but it wasn't unmanageable. It was like a hangover without the fun part.

Stepping outside, it definitely was weird to feel the wind against my face; this was my first time outside since I gained this power. The afternoon sun was warm, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining our street. It was peaceful. Normal. Boring, even. A part of me wanted to just stop it all again, to return to that world where I was the only one moving, the only one who mattered. But the headache was a firm reminder that I couldn't. Not yet, at least. I had to be smart about this. I had to conserve my energy...

I took a deep breath, the smell of freshly cut grass filling my lungs. It was nice for a minute. Then I got bored again. Fuck conserving energy.

I needed to test something. To see if this power had a range. So I focused on the neighbor's house. Ms. Henderson, a thick, enginere latina in her late forties who always seemed to be working on her lawn mower, or something else, but she'd always come back to the lawnmower, was in her garage, tinkering with the engine. She was a creature of habit, as predictable as the sunrise every day at this time she'd be working on something; I'm sure it's her job. Her garage was full of random knick-knacks and projects. I pictured her in my mind, the grease on her hands, the frustrated frown on her face when something didn't work as she intended. She wasn't amazingly hot or anything, but she was thick and had a "do-it-myself" aura to her. It helped that she was busty and always worked in a tank top, so her boobs were always getting covered in soot and grease. I always had a dirty fantasy of wanting to motorboat that greasy cleavage. "Ms. Henderson, stop," I whispered.

Nothing happened. Through the open garage door, I could see Ms. Henderson still fiddling with the engine, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her greasy hand. She always kept a towel in her cleavage, and plucked it out to wipe down her breasts before whistling something and getting back down on her knees.

Hm.

"Stop," I said to no one in particular.

My head gave a faint pulse, and the world froze again. Ms. Henderson and the rest of the world were now statues again, her hand halfway to her boob, a smudge of grease on her left tit. The hummingbird that had been flitting around the bird feeder in her yard was suspended in mid-air, its wings a blur of iridescent color. Everything was still.

"Start."

Life resumed again.

So it seems as though if I want to freeze a specific person, they have to be able to hear me for it to work. Ah well.

Now it was my turn to whistle. I approached my neighbor down the street, hands in my pockets as casually as I could. Trying my best not to let my true intentions be known, even if it didn't really matter if she knew what I planned to do or not. "Heya! Ms. Henderson!" I casually strolled over to the fence separating the street from her yard. Ms. Henderson looked up, her expression shifting from frustration to a polite, if strained, smile.

"Oh, Dexter. Hi. Your mom home?"

"Yeah, but she's sleeping in. Had a long night, I think." I smiled as I leaned against the fence, making sure she could see me and hear me clearly.

"You, uh, need some help with that?" I asked, gesturing to the lawnmower.

Ms. Henderson sighed, wiping her hands on a rag that had seen better days. "I wish. This thing has a mind of its own. I think the carburetor's clogged again. I was about to give it a good cleaning." After she stuffed the rag back into the darkness of her cleavage, okay, this had to be teasing me intentionally, right?

"Yeah? I can help with that. I'm good with my hands."

That got a chuckle from her. "I'm sure you are, kid. But this is greasy work. You don't want to get your nice clothes dirty." She noticed my lingering gaze shifted downwards and frowned. "I do need to talk to your mother; she wanted me to take a look at her air conditioning unit. Have you noticed any loud noises coming from it?" She asked, trying to shift the topic to a more neighborly one and less about her greasy cleavage.

"No, not really. But I can try to wake her up," I lied. I'm not doing that.

"No, no, that's fine. Don't wake her up. I'll come by later." She said as she turned back to the lawnmower, but not before giving me a good look at her big, fat ass. She was wearing a pair of tight-fitting jean shorts that showed off her plump, wide rear. The kind of ass that would be perfect for grabbing onto while I fucked her from behind. "But if you could give me space, I need to foc—"

See, I waited until she was focused on the engine again, her back to me, giving me a perfect view of her round, wide backside. But I didn't wait for her to finish talking. I said it, clear as day, my voice calm and even. "Ms. Henderson, stop."

She froze. One hand on the lawnmower's pull cord, the other holding a wrench. Her head was slightly tilted down, her brow furrowed in concentration. She was a statue of domestic frustration. My personal statue. Her cleavage, her ass, her entire body, was mine to do with as I pleased. She was posed on her knees, leaning over the back of the power, her ass directly in my face and those sizable mammaries hanging down loosely within her tanktop. I broke past her personal space, "What was that you said about wanting space?" I asked the frozen woman, running a hand along her neck. Down to her shoulders. Looked like there was no bra; I didn't see a strap. Guess doing dirty work like this, she must have wanted to be a bit freer. "Don't mind me, I'm just inspecting the goods," I said, stepping closer, my body pressing against her frozen form. My hands now roamed her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her tank top. I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear. "I don't mind getting a little dirty."

I pressed my bulge into her ass, enjoying the feeling of her soft flesh yielding to my touch. My hands slid up the bottom of her shirt, feeling up her toned stomach, then feeling the grease and sweat that pooled under her bosom. "Damn, you are a dirty bitch, huh?" I chuckled, pulling my hand out and wiping the grease onto her lips, her darty skticky under boob sweat and work grease smeared across her lips, leaving a dark streak across the Latino's features. "Welp, there's one thing I always wanted to do." I smiled, a mischievous glint in my eyes. I took her by the back of her hair, pulling her head up and back. "Hope you don't mind," I whispered, spinning her around. I leaned into her bulging round cleavage line, and took a deep breath. Ah, it smelled like... well, dirt, sweat, and motor oil. This was the smell of a woman who got shit done. I was fucking turned on. With my face this close, I had no other excuse, shoving my full head between her breasts, I motor-boated her, my face rubbing against her greasy, sweaty cleavage. Her tits were big, soft, and full. I could feel the heat emanating. With a quick tug, I pulled her top off, revealing her big, beautiful breasts. Unrestricted. They were even bigger than I had imagined, full and heavy with dark, greasy areolae. "Perfect."

I wasted no time in burying my face between them, motorboating her tits with gusto. The smell of grease and sweat was overwhelming, but I didn't care. This was a fantasy come true. I motorboated her tits for a good minute, enjoying the feeling of her soft flesh against my face. I then took each nipple into my mouth, suckling and nibbling on them, feeling them harden under my touch. "Oh yeah," I moaned, my muffled voice lost in her cleavage. Then I stood up, giving her tits one final long suck, my dick straining against my jeans. I unbuckled my belt and shoved off my boxers. My dick instantly erected; pre-cum flicked onto her frozen face. The woman had been frozen in a neutral, if not somewhat annoyed expression, mouth open while heavily implying I should leave. Basically meaning she left her mouth open for this dickening. "Time to get a little more personal with the neighbors," I said, lining my dick up with her open mouth.

I slid my cock into her warm, wet mouth, the feeling of her tongue against my shaft sending shivers down my spine. I grabbed the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her hair, and began to face-fuck her. I started slow, savoring the feeling of her mouth wrapped around my dick, but soon I was pounding away, my balls slapping against her chin. "Fuck yeah, take it, you dirty bitch," I grunted, my hips thrusting forward with a primal rhythm. I could feel the pressure building, the familiar warmth spreading through my groin. I was getting close. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, I—"

Suddenly, from behind me I heard a loud audible gasp. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING IN THERE!?"

My blood ran cold. I froze, my dick still buried in Ms. Henderson's throat. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Behind me, I turned to see Ms. Hudson, the raven-haired Asian MILF who always went on a jog every weekend around this time. But usually she went out at 12 pm exactly, not almost two hours later. Guess I didn't expect this. She was from two houses down, and was certainly a MILF by definition; she used to tutor me, and babysat Sydney and me all the times when Mom was gone, with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. She was looking right at me, shocked and disgusted, "I-I'm calling the HOA, the police, your mother! Valentina! What the hell are you doing!? Say something!"

"Oh hey, Ms-"

"And YOU young man!" She began storming towards me. Her tits jiggling in her sports bra. Yoga pants glued to her glutes; the sweat made her radiate. Goddamn. I should have been scared. I should have been panicking. But all I could think about was how much I wanted to see those tits bounce as I fucked her from behind, too. "How dare you?! I raised you better than this!" She wasn't lying; she was so important in my life, basically like an aunt or 2nd mother; she babysat and tutored that often. She is also what helped in giving me a fetish for older women. So if anything, a lot of this is her own fault. I mean, jogging past my house every weekend, when she has a body like this!? "Zip up your pants NOW this is absolutely unacce—"

"Time stop." I blurted out.

The world froze.

Ms. Hudson, mid-stride, her face a mask of righteous indignation, was now a statue. Her jostling tits were suspended mid-jiggle, a couple inches away from the underside of her chin. "You chose a bad time to go parent mode on me, Ms. H," I said, pulling out of Ms. Henderson's mouth with a wet pop. I wiped my dick in her hair, then turned my attention to my newest victim. "But I'm glad you did. I've been wanting to get my hands on you for years."

I walked over to her, my cock still hard and glistening with Ms. Henderson's saliva. I looked her up and down, my eyes lingering on her tight-fitting yoga pants and the swell of her breasts spilling out of her sports bra. She was fit, toned, and infuriatingly sexy. I reached out and grabbed her tit, giving it a firm squeeze. It was just as soft and supple as I'd imagined. "You have no idea how many times I jerked off to you," I said, my voice low and husky. "How many times I imagined you on your knees, begging for my cock."

"You've been teasing me for years, Ms. H. Walking around in those tight little shorts, bending over in front of me. Fuck." I felt up her ass, the weight, the plumpness, the jiggle. The meat bulged between my fingers as I groped her fat flesh without care. "You knew exactly what you were doing, you little slut." I pulled down her yoga pants, revealing her bare ass. "I appreciated you being there whenever we needed, but now I just need something to fuck. You've always been a 2nd mother to me." I said before giving her legs a hungry kiss, "But you should've seen what happened to my actual mother."

Without a care, I rose back up and spun her around; her face was frozen in a scowl, but her body was now facing away from me. I jerked my erect rod, then pocked it into her plush cheek. She was wearing a thong, a tiny piece of fabric that did little to hide her perfect ass meat. I couldn't resist. I gave her a hard slap, watching as her flesh jiggled and turned a satisfying shade of red. "That's for being a tease all these years," I said, then spanked her again, "And that's for catching me."

I needed a release. A quick, easy release to take the edge off. I grabbed Ms. Hudson's head, positioning her in front of my cock. I then used her hair to mop up the mixture of my pre-cum and Ms. Henderson's saliva that was on her face. Then I forced her mouth open and shoved my dick inside. It was a tight fit, but I managed. Her mouth was warm and wet, a perfect receptacle for my cock. I started to face-fuck her, my hips pistoning back and forth, my balls slapping against her chin. "That's it, take it all," I grunted, my head thrown back in pleasure.

Looking back over to the garage, an idea struck me. A wicked, depraved idea that made my headache throb with excitement. I picked up Ms. Hudson and carried her over to the lawnmower. I forced her neutral expression into a mouth-opening smile, positioned her on her hands and knees, her ass high in the air, her head turned to the side, her expression still frozen in a scowl. Then I went back to Ms. Henderson, who was still kneeling on the ground, her topless, greasy tits exposed. I picked her up and positioned her in front of Ms. Hudson, her face just inches away from the other woman's ass. I then took Ms. Henderson's head and forced it into Ms. Hudson's ass crack, her nose buried deep between those perfect cheeks. "There," I said, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. I forced the Latino woman's frozen face to be pressed so hard against the ass of the asian milf in front of her. "Tell me how it tastes; I need you to lube up that asian ass."

I stood back to admire my work. Ms. Henderson, her face buried in Ms. Hudson's ass, her greasy tits hanging down. Ms. Hudson, on her hands and knees, her ass presented for the world to see. It was a beautiful, twisted sight. "Fuck yeah," I said, getting physical again. I made the grease-coated Latino rub her face up and down, mouth out, tongue extended. She was forced to be a living rag. I made her rub and smear her saliva and the grease across that tight little asian asshole down to her pussy. I made sure to rub my dick against the other's face while doing this; I wanted to make sure they both had a share. "Alright, that's enough lube. Now for the main event." With my dick now also covered in a mixture of sweat, grease, and spit, I moved behind Ms. Hudson after shoving Henderson away, the hard-working woman mantained her forzen pose like a doll as she physically crashed agaisnt the wall, knocking down the shell causing a pile of tools, oil cansiters, paint, and other scraps to fall all around her frozen body, some even landed on her face and breasts. I'll deal with that later. Notably, they didn't seem to injure her at all. As I learned before, I can be as rough as possible; in this state, they were basically invincible.

I positioned my dick at the entrance of Ms. Hudson's puckered asshole. I could feel the heat emanating from the Asian MILF. I'd never done this before, but I'd watched enough porn to know the basics. I pushed forward, my cock slowly sinking into the tightness of her sphincter. I pushed forward, slowly at first, savoring the feeling of her ass stretching to accommodate me. The feeling was incredible. She was so tight, so warm. I could feel her muscles clenching around my cock, even in her frozen state. "Fuck," I grunted, my dick sinking deeper and deeper into her bowels. I grabbed onto her hips, my fingers digging. I started to thrust, my hips moving in a steady rhythm. "Fuck," I grunted, my balls slapping against her ass cheeks. I reached around and grabbed her tits, squeezing them through her sports bra. I leaned forward, my lips brushing against her ear. "You like that, don't you?" I whispered. "You like my big, fat cock in your tight little asian ass?"

My dick was throbbing within her. I continued to push into her; her tight hole was resisting at first, but by now it had long since yielded to my persistent pressure. "Fuck yeah," My hips pistoning back and forth, with more and more energy, hands gripping her hips for leverage. Then moving up to her tits, serving as perfect handlebars. PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP echoed through the garage; with time itself stopped now, I didn't have to worry about interruptions. "You like that, you little slut? You like my big cock in your ass?" I asked, my voice ragged with lust. She didn't answer, of course. She was frozen, a silent witness to her own violation. I could feel the pressure building, the familiar warmth spreading through my groin. I was getting close.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," I grunted, my thrusts becoming more erratic. I could feel my balls tightening, the cum churning in my shaft. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum in your ass, you little tease." Then I did, and I came hard. "FUCK!" I roared, my hips bucking as I unloaded a torrent of hot, sticky cum deep into her bowels. The sensation was overwhelming, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure that washed over me, leaving me trembling and breathless. I collapsed on top of her, my cock still twitching inside her ass, my body slick with sweat.

The headache that had been building behind my eyes suddenly intensified, a sharp, stabbing pain that made me wince. "Fuck," I groaned, clutching my head. The world swam before my eyes, the edges of my vision blurring. "Too much," I muttered, my head pounding. "Too much, too soon."

I slowly pulled out of Ms. Hudson's ass, my cum dripping from her stretched hole and running down her thighs. I stumbled back, my legs feeling like jelly. I looked at the two women, both frozen in their compromising positions. Ms. Henderson, covered in grease and my cum, still holding the forced smile, forever etched on her face. A face coated in both ass and her own greasy, sticky boob work sweat. Ms. Hudson, her ass gaping, her face a mask of disbelief. It was a masterpiece of depravity, a testament to my newfound power. And I loved it. No one was safe, not even the woman who taught me how to ride a bike.

But I needed to rest. The headache was a warning, a clear sign that I was pushing myself too hard. I had to be more careful, more strategic in my use of this power. I couldn't just go around freezing everyone and fucking them silly. Well, I could, but I needed to pace myself. I needed to build up my stamina, to increase my tolerance. And that would take time. And practice...

Or..?

Next thing I knew, I had rope from Ms. Henson's garage. I tied it around the owner of said garage's waist, then picked her up and slung her over my shoulder, her naked body limp and pliable. I looked at Ms. Henderson, still frozen in her ridiculous pose, and did the same with her, slinging her over my other shoulder. Both women were bigger and stronger than me, but with my ability, they weighed like sacks of potatoes. Two MILFs, one for each shoulder. Their tits loudly flopped like slaps of meat as I adjusted them over my shoulders. I carried them out of the garage, into the bright afternoon sun, then threw them up into the air. Knowing how I can control the physics in this stopped world, just by wanting things to happen, the neighbors remained frozen, their midday activities suspended in time as well as their bodies in the air. They floated in the air like balloons, in this beautifully frozen world. With my hands on the rope, I carried them down the street whistling, knowing exactly where I was headed.

I felt like an absolute super villain, or, you know, a deranged teenager with god-like powers. Either way. I wasn't good. More like chaotic neutral, no wait, not neutral, just chaotic... chaos.

Knowing exactly where I was headed, I went a few blocks down until I was standing in front of Ms. Henson's house. I needed a shower after all, and the asian MILF had the audacity to bother me when I was minding my own business with the neighborhood's local mechanic. With a mere thought, my two personal floating meat puppets, still holding their absurd poses, dropped to the floor. I didn't want them to float anymore, so they no longer did; instead, they fell with a meaty plop. Tits cushioning their fall, not like they could even be injured in this state. Having swiped Ms. H's keys from her tight’n cleavage earlier, I unlocked the door and headed right in.

"Hey Vivi! Where are ya' at?" I shouted as soon as I entered the asian's household. Of course, I knew no one could hear me. "Your mom really fucked up and brought this onto ya, but don't worry, you won't even know it happened," I called out to her daughter, a girl my age that I had a crush on for as long as I can remember. She was basically my best friend growing up because our families were so close, but after puberty hit, she started to be distant until eventually just straight up ignoring me, getting a new group of friends. She was a shy, quiet girl, with a slender build and a pretty face and a prettier rack. I think she noticed how I kept looking at her tits, or her butt when she bent over, even though it was just my natural growing libido. And took to just staying away from me.

Yeah, not anymore.

"Start," I said aloud, now that we were in the privacy of the house.

Ms. H instantly finished her sentence from before, "—ptable! Do you hear me-w-what the-" She blinked as, from her perspective, she suddenly teleported back into her own house.

"Ms. H, stop," I said, right as she realized she was naked; she didn't even have time to notice her Latino mechanic frozen right next to her. And like that, she was my puppet again.

I dragged the two older women into the living room and propped them up on the couch. I made them sit next to each other, their bodies contorted into unnatural positions. Moving them closer, I had each woman wrap an arm around the other's back as if they were a married couple waving goodbye to their child. Making sure both the brown and soft golden-skinned tits were smooshed together, the left boob and right boob respectively. "Alright, I'll be looking for your daughter now, because you didn't want to leave well enough alone," I said to the Asian MILF's frozen face, forcing a smile onto my meat puppet's expression, and then giving her frozen face a kiss.

I didn't find Vivi anywhere; I was starting to think the girl lucked out. I mean, I'd still snag her later, but at the moment she was MIA... that is, until I checked the garage, which was attached to the house but had a different door. And there she was, wearing a tight pair of shorts that hugged her slender hips and a small tank top that did little to hide the curves of her budding breasts. She had headphones on and was lifting weights, her face scrunched up in concentration, her biceps flexing with each rep. As the door opened, she noticed me, "Huh? Dexter!? Wha—"

"Stop."

The clank of the weights never finished its fall. Vivi was now my newest doll.

"You know, I was just thinking about you," I said to her frozen body. "Thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you." I walked over to her, my cock already hardening at the sight of her. "And now, because your nosey mother, I finally can." I ran my hands over her body, feeling the warmth of her skin, the taut muscles beneath my fingertips. I squeezed her tits, feeling their weight in my hungry palms. They felt nice; I could distinctly sense her nipples beneath, no bra. I guess it's the privacy of your own home; you didn't expect visitors.

"Vivi, Vivi, Vivi... I told you, you should've been nicer to me," I chided, my hands roaming over her body. I could feel the heat of her skin, the firmness of her muscles. She was so fit, so toned. "But you had to go and be a bitch. And now look at you. You're just another one of my dolls."

I ran my hands down her legs, feeling the smoothness of her skin. I then reached up and grabbed her tits, giving them a firm squeeze. They were just as soft and supple as I'd imagined. "God, I've been wanting to do this for so long," I said, my voice low and husky. "I've been wanting to feel you up, to taste you, to fuck you." I leaned in and kissed her, my lips crashing against hers. Her mouth was slightly open, a result of her unfinished sentence, and I took advantage, my tongue delving into the warm, wet cavern. I could taste the minty freshness of her gum, the sweet residue of a recent drink. It was intoxicating. I kissed her deeply, my hands roaming over her body, my cock pressing against her shorts.

Before much more could happen, I pulled back, my lips glistening with her saliva. "Sorry, I'm grose, blame Ms. Mechanic over there. Let's take a shower; that's really why I'm here." I said, scooping up the lightweight Vivi into my arms. Her tits jiggling despite time being frozen. I love this power. I carried her bridal style up the stairs, her limbs dangling, her head lolling to the side. I paused at the top of the stairs to look down at the living room. The two MILFs were still sitting on the couch, their arms wrapped around each other, their tits pressed together, a frozen portrait of forced affection. It was a beautiful sight. "You two can come too," Shifting Vivi so she was over her sholders, with her tits fully smooshed against me, I moved over to grab both MILFs by the tits, it was hard to get a good hangle but I managed to tug both women's nipples like a leash, dragging them across the floor, bumping and knocking over all the funurter in the way.

Inside the master bedroom, I knocked over pictures of the Hudson's family portraits, one of the Asian MILF herself and her husband on their wedding day; wow, she looked sexy as shit there. That dress had a whole lot of cleavage on display. Despite me being babysat here before, I never really entered their room, so I guess I never saw this. That level of blatant cleavage is only for a special man. And me now. Mostly just me, actually.

I found the bathroom easily enough; it was the one with the light on. Ms. H must've left it on as she was in a rush to get as close to her already late 12 pm getting sesh. I stepped inside, my eyes adjusting to the bright fluorescent light. The room was clean, tidy, with a faint scent of lavender and bleach. It was clear the woman had used it right before heading out. I placed Vivi on the toilet seat, her rigid in the pose she had been around my shoulder. Then I turned on the massive bathtub and threw both the golden-skinned asian, and the brown-skinned Latino in the tub. Ms. Hudson landed with a meaty splash, her body rigid like ice as I had contorted her into an unnatural position, squatting, tit hanging position, her legs splayed wide, her arms akimbo. Ms. Henderson landed on top of her, her face buried in the other woman's cleavage, her greasy tits squashed against the Asian MILF's stomach. "I'll be back for you two," I said, my eyes lingering on their naked bodies.

I just dumped whatever soap I could find into the tub to let it suds up and let the two woman soak in their juices. I then turned back to Vivi, who was still sitting on the toilet seat, her expression frozen in a mixture of surprise and confusion. I picked her up and posed her at attention. And began to fully strip her, pulling her tank top over her head, revealing her perky tits. They weren't as big as her mother's, but they were perfectly shaped, and definitely busty for her petite size, with small, pink nipples that were already hardening in the cool air of the bathroom. I then pulled down her shorts, revealing her matching pink panties. I could see the outline of her pussy lips through the thin fabric, a sight that made my cock twitch with anticipation. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slowly pulled them down, revealing her neatly trimmed pussy, the lips glistening with a hint of moisture. "Fuck yeah," I whispered, my breath catching in my throat.

I then quickly stripped down myself, my clothes falling to the floor in a heap. I stepped into the standing shower separate from the tub; while the MILFs soaked, my Vivi body pillow and I got to work in the shower. I turned on the water, the spray warm and invigorating against my skin. I grabbed a bottle of body wash and squeezed a generous amount into my palm, the scent of coconut and vanilla filling the air. I then began to lather up Vivi's body, my hands gliding over her smooth, supple skin. I started with her back, my fingers tracing the delicate curve of her spine, my palms kneading the firm muscles of her shoulders. I then moved to her front, my hands cupping her tits, my thumbs circling her nipples, which were now hard pebbles against my skin.

I took my time, savoring every moment, every touch. I washed her stomach, my fingers tracing the defined lines of her abs. I then moved lower, my hands sliding between her legs, my fingers exploring the folds of her pussy. She was already wet, her juices mixing with the soap and water. I slid a finger inside her, feeling the tightness of her cunt, the warmth of her inner walls. "Fuck," I moaned, my cock throbbing with need. I added another finger, stretching her, preparing her for what's about to come.

Then my head pulsed, harder than before.

"Alright, alright." I removed my fingers from her pussy, "Let's clean up..."

With her body fully lathered, I used Vivi as a human loofah, pressing her soapy body against mine. Her tits slid against my chest, her stomach against my abs, her legs tangled with mine. The feeling was incredible, the slickness of the soap combined with the warmth of her skin, the softness of her curves against my hard, muscular frame. I wrapped my arms around her, my hands squeezing her ass, pulling her closer. My cock, now rock hard, was nestled between her legs, the tip pressing against her clit. I could feel the heat of her pussy, the promise of pleasure to come. "You feel so good," I whispered, my lips brushing against her ear. "So fucking good."

The headache intensified again, a relentless, pounding drum behind my eyes. "Fine, fine," I grunted, frustrated by the limitations of my own power. I turned off the water and grabbed a fluffy white towel from the rack. I began to dry Vivi's body, my hands moving in slow, deliberate circles. I started with her hair, the dark strands clinging to her skin like wet seaweed. I then moved to her face, my fingers tracing the delicate features, the curve of her jaw, the slope of her nose. I then moved to her neck, my thumbs massaging the tense muscles, my fingers dancing across her collarbone. And without warning, I kissed her again. Just once, her frozen, surprised face remained unresponsive as the wet sound of our lips connecting echoed.

Then I dried her tits, my palms cupping them, my thumbs circling her nipples, as I continued to kiss, louder and louder, her face always remaining the same look of surprise, not even reacting as I moved to her tongue, licking her teeth. A wet smacking sound in an otherwise silent bathroom. Across from us, in the tub, the MILFs had floated into slightly different positions, Ms. Henderson's greasy face now pressed against the tiled wall, basically kissing the side of the tub, her lips smeared in such an obscene, ridiculous manner, Ms. Hudson's leg draped over the side of the tub, her foot dangling in the air. Her face fully face down; she was lucky to be time stopped, otherwise the woman would've certainly drowned. They looked like discarded toys, forgotten in the midst of my playtime with Vivi. I liked the look.

Once Vivi was dry, I carried her out of the bathroom and into the master bedroom. I laid her on the king-sized bed, her body sprawling across the pristine white sheets. She looked like a sacrifice, a virgin offering to a hungry god. And I was that god. I looked at her, my eyes devouring every inch of her body. Her perky tits, her flat stomach, her long, slender legs, her shaved pussy. She was perfect. Absolutely perfect. And she was all mine. All mine to do with as I pleased. All mine to fuck, to use, to abuse.

"Alright, I think I'll be keeping you guys for a while. Any questions?" I asked the meat puppets. No answer. "Good." I eyed Vivi, got up close, and kissed her frozen lips. I turned her head to look over to her MILF of a mother. Ms. H was now making a cross-eyed look, her tongue sticking out and her lips in a weird kissing motion. Of course I did some face molding beforehand, then I shoved her to the ground; where, like a knocked-over statue, she made a loud thud, her face now smushed into the carpet, all while holding the same pose; her tits and ass jiggled to a slow stop. "Should've left well enough alone." I chuckled, "Actually, I wouldn't have gone for ya' anyway, so it didn't really matter. And you..." I turned to Ms. Henderson, the light-brown-skinned grease monkey, now rendered clean. Since she was clean, I was free to lick up and suck her tits with abandon, and they didn't taste like garbage this time!

Her face and lips still smeared as when she was pressed against the side of the tub, I just let her face remain like she's kissing glass. For the finale, I'd had Ms. Henderson sit her glistening clean, bubble butt right on the back of the Asian MILF's head who had been knocked to the floor, basically using her as a stool. The Latino's tits were still free, but I positioned her hands so they were on her own hips, a proud, domineering pose. The sight was so fucking hot. A glistening Latina mechanic dominating the uptight Asian MILF who didn't mind her own business. A perfect juxtaposition of former power and current submission, of previous dirt and current clean.

I then turned my attention back to Vivi. I leaned in and kissed her again, my lips gently brushing against hers. I could taste the sweetness of her mouth, the freshness of her breath. Ah, that'll never get old.

Using a wheelbarrow I found in Ms. Henson's garage, I placed Vivi and her mom in the wheelbarrow together, with Ms. H's head on her daughter's stomach, and the two MILFs holding hands and looking at each other with disgust as they're forced to cuddle. I'd made sure to pose their faces just right; Vivi, for instance, was posed to be screaming into a pillow. The Latina, Ms. Henderson, was given the honor of sitting in the back like some royal consort, her legs spread wide, her clean, glistening tits thrust out, her head turned to the side, a look of pure bliss on her face, her tongue lolling out.

My headache was still there, a dull throb behind my eyes, but it was manageable. I could feel my power growing, my tolerance increasing. I was getting stronger. More capable. I could feel it in my bones, in my blood. I was becoming something more. Something... other. Something god-like. I looked at the three women, all posed and ready for transport; a sense of satisfaction washed over me. I was Dexter, the Time-Stopping God. And this was just the beginning. I pushed the wheelbarrow out of the house and into the bright afternoon sun.

A few minutes later I was back home, and my dolls were transported to the bedroom. The room, once a sanctuary of mundane teenage life, now looked like the aftermath of a bizarre, sexual hurricane. First I got Mom out of my bed; the chode on her by now had crusted up. Compared to the other girls, her forced smile with the dried cum of her son made her much more gross in comparison. I lifted her right tit up to her face while she just grinned in response, and I saw a dried pool build up of cum. Ugh, I'll have to clean them too. I froze Mom; I didn't freeze the cum itself. Ignoring that, I positioned everyone in my room first, dealing with my Mom and sister. I got Mom on the floor in a doggy-style position, her face contorted into a scowl, like she was about to ground me for good this time. Like that would do anything. Sydney, on the other hand, I laid her on my bed, her legs spread wide, her pussy exposed and glistening. I'd cleaned her up a bit, wiping away the dried cum with a wet towel. I then posed her, her hands behind her head, her expression one of bored indifference. She looked like a doll waiting to be played with.

I positioned the others with a practiced hand, a sculptor of frozen flesh. Ms. Hudson, the instigator of this entire chain reaction, I placed kneeling by the foot of my bed. Her face, a mask of perpetual shock, was angled downwards as if in prayer, her hands clasped behind her back in a gesture of submission. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, partially obscuring the perfect swell of her breasts.

Ms. Henderson, my lovely, greasy mechanic, was draped across my desk chair. I'd posed her legs over the armrests, leaving her completely exposed. Her head was tilted back, her frozen gasp a silent invitation, one brown-tinted hand resting on her stomach, the other tangled in her own hair. Using her long-since-discarded boob-sweat grease towel, I'd left a smudge of grease on her cheek, a memento from her former life.

Then there was Vivi. My Vivi. I laid her out on my bed, next to Sydney, the real centerpiece of my collection. She was on her back, one arm thrown above her head, the other resting on her stomach. Her legs were slightly parted, a silent, irresistible invitation. I'd positioned her head to the side, her lips slightly parted, her dark hair fanned out across my pillow. She looked like a sleeping princess in a fairytale, a fairytale where I was the prince, the dragon, and the happily ever after all rolled into one.

I stood back and admired my work. The room was a tableau of my power, a monument to my lust. It was perfect. "Well, I don't know about you all, but I'm beat," I announced to the silent room. "Anyone down to relax?" Of course, they didn't answer. They couldn't. They were mine, and only mine, to do with as I pleased. I walked over to the bed and sat down next to Vivi. I reached out and traced the line of her jaw, my fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck. Then I gave her lips a wet kiss. "Alright, time for another nap. I need to recharge. But I think I'm ready for school tomorrow, heh... yep."

Right as I was about to start time, I remembered something, "Vivi, Stop." I said, because I never stopped her specifically. With that readied, I said "Start," aloud, feeling the now-familiar pulse in my head as the world resumed.

The silence was instantly shattered.

Yet every one of my dolls remained frozen. Perfect.

I wasn't sure how long I'd keep them as my dolls, maybe a few days, a few weeks, months, forever? Guess I'd go by how I feel. I'm sure people will notice two neighbors missing, but if anyone comes looking, I could just add them to the collection too. If I'm gonna be the villain here, might as well act the part. I wasn't thinking about that right now, though. As I drifted off among my collection of dolls, I thought of something interesting.

For once, I was excited for Monday.