One Dizzy Day with a side of Mass Chaos please

Three days since enrolling in this new school, Gwen had already made a name for herself, not as a hero, but as the new casual, unassuming girl with a hidden talent for science. She was smart, but not too smart; she kept to herself, but wasn't too quiet. This whole undercover infiltration thing as ''just another student" was just part of the course for her by now. She knew how to blend in. She knew how not to attract attention. And she knew how to keep her spider-senses on a low hum, a gentle nudge when something was genuinely wrong, not just when some jock was checking her ass out. And for the most part, her alarms haven't been triggering; they've been keeping their distance, keeping themselves blending in as just another one of the many; three days in, and one weekend later... nothing came up. The only thing that was even the slightest bit odd was how he was a bonified pervert, through and through. The guy clearly didn't care to be too subtle about checking out the girls at the school, but that wasn't her problem.

Even when Gwen and Tandy first stepped into class, she could feel his gaze on her legs. It's one of those things where she couldn't exactly help that she had a nice set of legs and ''a cute perky bubble butt,'' as she overheard some guys in the locker room say about her during her first day here. A very solid attempt was made to dress conservatively, but she found that jeans simply hugged the natural round shape of her hips; it seemed to fit into her ass, rather than wall it off from view. On the other hand, a skirt only invited people to want to look up it. In the end, she found that fewer eyes were on her when she was wearing a long denim skirt and a bland, fully sleeved top. The only problem there was that going out of her way to be overly conservative only caused her to stand out more. Going against her entire point of being under the radar. Most of the girls at this school seemed very lax with an already lax dress code; that was a job for the principal to handle, not hers. But it did make finding what to wear to be as inconspicuous as possible more of a challenge than it had any right to be. Though three days in... she made it work.

But that doesn't mean she had to like it. Especially when she caught him, on multiple occasions, blatantly staring at her breast or her butt. It made her skin crawl. She could tell that she had the better butt, while Tandy had the better breasts, in the eyes of his perverted lens; that is. Because she'd get the most of his focus while she was turned around, and Tandy while facing him. And it wasn't even personal; he was eyeing up all the females; they were just two of the many. It would be a lie to say it never crossed her mind to ask Jean to send in a guy instead, but it was apparent why Jean picked them, and it wasn't because she was an idiot. This guy clearly only pays attention to girls; most of the guys are just irrelevant to him. And in some twisted way, his lack of respect for women made him easier to track. He was a simple creature, driven by simple desires. A predator of opportunity, not strategy. A predictable one. And predictable predators were the easiest to catch.

That said, it didn't change the fact that he just made her skin crawl. The kind of crawl where you wanted to take a scalding hot shower. The kind of crawl where you wanted to web his entire body to the ceiling of the cafeteria and leave him there until the janitor found him. Jean had her work put up for her for sure; she's handled many perverted and immature teens. It's basically just part of her job at this point. But this guy would need some work. If anyone could manage, it would be Jean Gray, but damn...

Tandy was usually more tied down on her emotions, and even by the second week, she was begining to think of shifting approches; because as of now, outside of him being a pervert, he's shown no signs of powers, no hints at being anything greater, and no reason why an orgination like the Bortherhood, or any other bad actors would find any interest in him. It just felt like they were babysitting a guy who was constantly fucking them, and every other reasonably attractive girl, with his eyes. "Can you just web him up already?" Tandy muttered under her breath as they sat in class; she leaned her cheek in the palm of her hand while resting the same shoulder on the desk, picking at her teeth with a toothpick in her free hand. "My soul needs a bath."

"Hey, it's only Monday. He hasn't even shown up yet," Flick Flick Having leaned back in her seat, Gwen was flicking peanuts into the air with her thumb, and letting them plop into her mouth, with her eyes closed. "You didn't relax over the weekend?"

"Tryone and I had a nice date, so nice actually it's crazy how much worse this creep is in comparison," Tandy said, then winced as she bit down too hard on her toothpick. "Ow... ugh, I think it's because I can sense people's emotions, so... he's like, waaay worse to me. I can feel his intentions."

Gwen just laughed, catching more peanuts. "You're too dramatic. Just ignore him. He's just a pervy kid. I think he literally just turned eighteen like a week ago."

"He's not 'just a kid,' Gwen. He's a creep. And he's been staring at your ass for the past five days straight," Tandy said, her voice low and serious.

Gwen's eyes snapped open. "Three days," she corrected, and she sat up. "My spider senses are tingling."

"Seriously? At the perv?" Tandy leaned forward. "What's he doing?"

"Okay, first of all, he's not even here. It could be anything," Gwen whispered, her eyes scanning the classroom. "Just keep an eye out."

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for the pervert supervillain." She grumbled, looking out the classroom window, "Wanna be with my freakin' boyfriend right now and I'm stuck here watching a pervert. Just get the suit and web him up, then we're done!"

"You're right about the perv part. But... well, until proven otherwise, he's a creep, not a supervillain," Gwen replied, trying to be the voice of reason. "We're here to observe, not intervene. Until we get a reading on his powers," she yawned, leaning back in her seat somewhat. Her senses died down, but the fact they flickered once does mean she needs to keep one eye open; something must have occurred to cause that in the first place. "So far he's not even a threat; he's just a pervert. I don't see why I'd need to get the suit."

"He's a threat to my sanity..." Tandy shot back, and Gwen had to hold back a laugh. She wasn't wrong. But they had a job to do. And Jean was very clear about the importance of this mission. If the wrong hands were to get to him first, it could spell trouble. "...and my patience. You see the way he looks at you? It's like he's mentally undressing you. It's gross."

"I know," Gwen sighed, "But honestly, I'm used to it. And I reallllllly don't wanna wear the suit. It's been riding up my butt… I need Jean to synthesize a new one for me when this is over. It's really awkward." She shimmed in the desk's chair, her perky butt sensing the phantom sensation of the last time she had gone out in battle wearing that. "But look, whatever. We have a mission."

"Mission to get a restraining order, maybe," Tandy grumbled, pulling a small mirror out of her pocket to check her reflection. She was always so put-together, so confident. It was a stark contrast to Gwen's more reserved, slightly awkward demeanor. But they worked well together. They were a good team. The perfect pair for this kind of operation. "Okay, so what's the plan for today? More staring at the back of his head? More analyzing the way he chews his food? More...?" She trailed off, her gaze fixed on something behind Gwen. "What the...?"

"What?" Gwen turned to follow Tandy's line of sight. That Italian girl, what was her name? Bridgette? She was standing in the middle of the hallway, her hands on her hips, her face a mask of confusion and frustration. They could see her from their current positions in the room through the window on the classroom door. She was talking to a teacher, her voice rising with every word. Remaining subtle, Gwen yawned again and rose to her feet, crumbling up a piece of paper. She approached the trash bin on the door, then pretended to pull out her phone and text while leaning against the wall, as if distracted by something and not listening in.

Bridgette was looking between that goth friend of hers, Jen, and the teacher, a shorter, spectacled Spanish woman, with her hair in a tight bun, Mrs. Castillo. Bridgette had her hands on her head now, pulling at her own hair as she frantically tried to explain something to the teacher. "I swear she was right here! We were just-we were just talking! Abby! Abby was right here! I'm telling you!"

Jen just stood there, looking down at her phone, as she always did. "I didn't see anything," she mumbled, her face pale, as was her usual skin tone, "Maybe she just left."

"What do you mean, 'maybe she left'? She was right there! I was just talking to her! Where the hell did she go?" She spun around, her eyes scanning the crowd, but there was no sign of Abby. Just a sea of oblivious students, hurrying to their classes.

The teacher clearly had her plate full with her own job as she tried to calm down the now frantic Italian teen, "Señorita, calm down, I'm sure she's around somewhere. Maybe she went to the bathroom or to her locker? I'm sure she'll turn up. Now, get to class before you're both late."

"Listen, teach- one second she was there, and the next she was gone! Like mid.. sentence, I-" Bridgette insisted, her voice cracking. She looked genuinely confused, her earlier bravado gone, replaced by a raw, unadulterated bewilderment.

"Okay, okay, that's very strange. I'll call down to the office and see if they've seen her," Mrs. Castillo said, trying to placate the girl. "But at the moment, I am looking for Ms. Albright as well; I have some papers for her, so it's a busy morning. But I will bring this up with Principal Fawn right after I speak with Ms. Albright, I promise. Now, please, both of you, get to class." With that, she walked away, leaving Bridgette and Jen alone in the crowded hallway.

"B-but—" Bridgette stammered, but the teacher had already turned away, her attention looking through the halls.

"Bridgette! Please." The sounds of heels clacking down the hall came from behind Bridgette, and a tall, slender woman with short, blonde hair and a stern expression approached them. It was the hall monitor, Mrs. Duvall. She was known for being a stickler for the rules, and she had zero tolerance for any kind of tomfoolery. "You're both causing a scene and holding up traffic. Get to class."

"But my friend—"

"Will be fine. Principal Fawn will handle it personally. Now. Go." Mrs. Duvall said, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Unless you want to spend the rest of the day in my office, that can be arranged."

Bridgette let out a frustrated sigh, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She gave Jen a desperate look, but the goth just shrugged and continued to text on her phone. With a final, defeated glance down the hall, Bridgette turned and walked away, her head hanging low.

"See? I told you," Tandy whispered, her breath hot against Gwen's ear. She had crept up behind her, her spider-senses not even warning her of her approach, probably because she wasn't a threat to her. "Something's going on. Get the suit."

"First of all," Gwen whispered back, "You didn't tell me that specifically, and 2ndly.. I don't know if this has anything to do with our target; I don't even see him here... third... c'mon... It's so hot up there... and it rides up my—"

"If we weren't in a classroom right now, I'd give you a wedgie so much worse than that spandex. Get. The. Suit! You're the one with the spidey sense!"

"Shut up, you're being loud," Gwen said, a little annoyed. But Tandy had a point. "Fine," she finally relented. "But you're gonna have to smell the suit after."

"Deal," Tandy said, a triumphant smirk on her face, only for her mind to catch up to the rest of the sentence. "Oh wait-no, ew! Gross! Why would I wanna smell that!?"

Gwen rolled her eyes, "Exactly." With a grumble, she walked over to her bag. "Now imagine being stuck in an old, backed-up vent with that sweaty smell. What a way to start my Monday."

"Hey," Tandy shrugged, whispering as she passed by, "We have a mission, remember?"

"Pft. Right. I see what you did there." Gwen sighed, slinging her backpack over her shoulders and heading out of the room. "Stay on coms," She mouthed. In response, Tandy gave a thumbs up.

This wants what the list wants. Forget the fact I typed this up in a whole spur-of-the-moment thing; the list had its demands, and who am I not to follow them? The list knows what the list knows. The list is god, and the list is I. And most importantly, the list hungers. Or maybe that's just me, wait a second... I think I'M the list? Haha, wow, who would've seen that plot twist? Which means there are people to fuck, people to humiliate, people to permanently collect, and some who get all of the above.

Grumble

For real though, why am I hungry? Right after disposing of my teacher to snag for later. I planned on just heading to class, and chilling until class began, then I'd probably just fuck everyone and skip it till the end. The only reason I didn't speed up until class itself started would only be because I could feel the strain of this constant power abuse creeping back up. I had managed to ignore most of the signs up until this point, but I was, in general, just tired, somewhat sluggish, and just overall blatantly lazy. But hunger is a new thing; I mean, I did have a bowl of cereal, now what's more filling than that?

Grumble

I gazed down at my belly before entering the classroom. No one was there yet anyway; that does mean I could just fuck with every girl that enters in order, but... maybe I should just rest up. Dr. Green, my biology teacher, always shows up late; her hair is a mess, and she clearly waits till the last second to arrive; yet she never arrives late. That means I could probably get about 15 mins of shut-eye. Let my limiter naturally recharge. Being this tired before school even began is a problem.

Grumble

But food might help too. Huh.

New plan.

I headed straight to the cafeteria, ready to push open the doors, but I instead found all my forward momentum halted by sturdy locks. The door was locked, as were the windows to the hall. The school usually has the cafeteria open before classes so that students could get their breakfast. The fact that it's closed is pretty damn unusual. That was until I read a sign that said ''Cafeteria A closed for kitchen remodeling,'' with an arrow pointing down the hall towards the other lunchroom in the upper wing. ''Cafeteria B opened only for lunch, sorry for any inconvenience.''

"Remodeling?" I spoke to myself, my eyebrows furrowed, and my stomach growled... again, yeah, that's not going to stop me. My power is absolute. I am a god of time, and this school expects ME? To wait?

"Pft~!" Yeah. No. I had ways of getting what I want. First idea: just make the door light and shove it open.

"Stop."

The hallway went dead silent. I walked up, put both hands on the metal bar, and pushed hard, focusing on the idea that the door should weigh nothing. I wanted them light, easily movable. Which means they should be...

Nothing.

It didn’t move. Not even a little. Guess no matter how light the doors themselves might be, the actual lock in place was tight enough that changing the physics didn’t exactly help in that regard. I clicked my tongue. The pointless stop made my head throb and the hunger worse.

"Start."

Sound came back.

Fine. Maybe I can just tell the lock itself to reverse... or...

"Cafeteria remodeling… reverse."

That worked.

A low thrum ran through the walls. The paper sign on the glass fluttered, the writing blurring and vanishing. The heavy padlock clicked open by itself and dropped to the floor. The double doors swung outward a few inches. Inside, plastic sheeting peeled off the walls and rolled itself up. Tools and dust lifted into the air and put themselves away. A new gleaming counter sank back into its old, scuffed form. The smell of fresh paint receded, replaced by the faint, greasy scent of last week's lunch. The half-torn-apart kitchen rebuilt itself in reverse until it looked like a normal cafeteria again. Damn, this place really is in need of a remodeling, huh? I never noticed that until they started to freshen up the place. Principal Fawn really outta start signing some papers and getting things moving; does she not want this place looking better? Oh wait, she did; I just undid her work because fuck anything that gets in my way. Bitch should've waited until after I had my fill to try to get things done around here that might potentially inconvenience me in the future. Especially when the future, past, and present are at my whims.

I smirked and pushed the doors open, stepping into the silent kitchen.

The fluorescent lights buzzed to life, humming with a weak, tired sound. The air was cool and still. I walked behind the counter, my footsteps echoing in the vast space. I needed a real breakfast, something substantial. Eggs, bacon, the works. Going straight to the big fridge, I grabbed a carton of chocolate milk, two breakfast burritos, a yogurt, and a banana. I was already unwrapping the first burrito when the doors opened behind me again.

A lunch lady had been walking past on her way to Cafeteria B to start setting up for lunch. She must have noticed the main one was open when it wasn’t supposed to be. She was a decently attractive yet tired-looking older woman; she stopped in the doorway, her eyes wide with confusion.

"What are you doing in here, young man?" She stepped inside, already looking pissed, too tired to be dealing with this.

She looked to be in her mid-forties, soft and heavy in the way that came from years of cafeteria work. The short-sleeved uniform shirt was stretched tight across a wide, heavy chest that sat low and full, the fabric pulling hard at the buttons. Her black pants were snug around thick thighs and a round, heavy ass that shifted with every step. A hairnet held back brown hair with a few gray streaks. Now that she got closer, she certainly had that permanent tired-and-annoyed look most of the lunch staff carried.

"Hey!" she called out when she saw me. "This kitchen is still closed for remodeling. Students aren’t allowed in here. What do you think you’re—"

"Lunch Lady, Stop," I said, about to bite into my burrito.

"I'm not sure what joke you think you're playing here," She kept walking, her shoes squeaking against the linoleum floor; she didn't freeze in time. Huh. I guess I wasn't specific enough on her name. "You have three seconds to get out from behind there and explain yourself!"

I sighed. Needing her name, I had to focus on her tits, specifically her left breast. That part wasn't the problem; I usually just start at a woman's rack when I talk to them anyway, but the issue was that I was only able to catch part of the name tag from where I stood.

"Ms. Hens—"

"It’s 'Ms. Hensley' to you, young man, and you need to leave right now before I—"

"Ms. Hensley, stop."

She locked solid mid-sentence, one hand still raised, mouth open on the unfinished threat. Completely frozen. No breathing. No movement. Just a heavy, soft statue standing there with her chest pushed forward from turning toward me, and the tight shirt still strained across it. Perfect.

I finished the bite of burrito, set the food down, and hopped over the counter to stand before her. I didn’t bother being careful. I grabbed the front of her shirt and yanked. Buttons popped. The heavy tits dropped free with a thick bounce, wide and soft, the nipples already reacting a little to the cooler air. I squeezed both of them hard, fingers sinking in, then shoved her forward over the nearest prep table. Pants and underwear got yanked down just far enough. I used the stopped-time physics to keep her exactly where I wanted. Bent over, legs forced a little wider, that thick ass pushed back toward me. I fucked her like that, rough and without any care, using her body the same way I’d used every other frozen woman so far. A tool. A piece of meat. The only sounds were skin and the occasional wet slap in the empty kitchen. When I finished, I pulled out, wiped myself off on the back of her uniform shirt, and left her exactly like that.

I didn’t fix her clothes. I didn’t pose her nicely. Didn't care enough to do so. Instead, I just grabbed her by one arm, dragged her across the floor, and shoved her into the narrow gap between the industrial fridge and the wall. One tit stayed free and pressed against the cold metal. An arm stuck out at a stupid angle. The hairnet had slipped halfway off. She looked like discarded trash that used to work here.

"You cook good," I said to the frozen face wedged in the corner. "That’s the only reason you’re not going in the closet."

In response, she remained silent.

With that, I picked up my food and left. A couple of guys and one male teacher passed me in the hall. They gave me weird looks because of all the food I was carrying, but none of them said anything. Minding your own business is something a lot of these chicks could learn a thing or two about. Actually, on my way back to the classroom, no women crossed my path. Lucky for them. I was still hangry enough that my mood was pretty sour; any girl who got in the way was probably going on the permanent freeze list without a second thought, at least until I ate something and recharged a bit.

Apparently there was some commotion going on across the school. I wonder if it had something to do with Bridgette or the missing African teacher. Honestly, it might be a problem if I just keep snatching women like that, but when I can just rewind any problem, do I really care? Let's say I end up snatching the wrong woman and the police show up at my door, then I'd just rewind time and place her back. Or maybe just freeze the cops themselves. Not sure there. The only thing that could probably scare me is the prospect of other heroes, as I've yet to see if my power could outplay them, let alone work on them, nor do I want to test the theory. My power might be god-like, but I know of many heroes who also have god-level abilities, and some of them literally are gods by definition. So I'll stay in my own time-controlled bubble. Regardless, I can only assume some teachers were already getting pulled into that commotion. Hell, that little chaos was probably the only reason the girls I might've otherwise bumped into stayed clear of this side of the hall. With how hungry I was, if I had even gotten a whiff of pussy, or saw a single boobie bounce in the distance, I'd have stopped time and thrown them in the grab-later bucket to keep permanently in my closet.

I made it to Dr. Green’s classroom without any more interruptions. The room was still empty. I dropped into a desk near the back, set the food out, and tore into the second burrito. The greasy meat and eggs hit my system, and a wave of relief washed over me. The headache behind my eyes started to fade. That sluggish, drained feeling in my limbs began to recede. Food. That was it. Using my power burned energy, straight up. I’d been running on fumes and a bowl of cereal. No wonder I felt like shit. This wasn't a new, sudden, or surprisingly crucial discovery. My power wasn't infinite. It had a fuel tank. I'd gathered that. But I think I didn't take in how quickly all my different power uses could stack in wearing me down. I just needed to eat and relax.

Halfway through the second burrito, I stopped reaching over for the side dish. I stared at the yogurt.

No spoon.

I stared at the burrito; it needed a bit more... spice?

Yet there was no salt... or pepper.

"...Son of a bitch."

Of course I forgot the small shit.

I stared at the yogurt for another second, weighed how lazy I was in my head, then sighed.

"Stop."

The classroom went silent. I stood up, left the food on the desk, and walked back out into the hallway. This freeze was a fresh one. Different people were caught mid-step this time. A couple of guys near the lockers. A male teacher further down. And off near the end of the hallway, I noticed a familiar face, the new girl. The one with the legs and the ass. Gwen or something. She was heading straight towards the women's restroom, paused like a statue mid-stride; backpack over one shoulder, that long denim skirt, while bland, did nothing to hide the shape underneath as it fluttered slightly around her legs. My eyes scanned her over. For a moment I thought about just making her disappear; it's not like the consequences even remotely worried me. If I had seen her in my way towards class, before I started eating, Gwen, whatever he last name was- with her personality, dreams, and future as everyone knew it would be gone, she'd just be one more name on the list. Gwen, the meat puppet who used to have friends and a life, now just another doll to warm my bed. But that was the old me. The tired me. The new me, still very tired, but slightly more satisfied with a burrito in his stomach, had the patience to find a fork. Maybe. My head was starting to thrum. This needed to be fast. Keeping time stopped after messing around with it as much as I had in such a short time was catching up to me.

I ignored her. My mission was silverware. I walked back to the closed-down cafeteria. The doors were still unlocked from earlier. I pushed them open and walked in. Ms. Hensley was exactly where I’d left her, wedged in the narrow gap between the industrial fridge and the wall. One heavy tit was still free and pressed flat against the cold metal, the soft flesh squashed out in a ridiculous shape. Her face was locked in that same half-annoyed, mid-sentence expression. Arm stuck out at a stupid angle. Hairnet half-off.

I stood there looking at her for a second. Another bit of temptation.

She’d fit perfectly in the closet with the others. Same as Ms. Henderson. Ms. Albright, Abby. Vivi, and the rest. A growing collection. No one would ever find them. Time would stand still for them forever. An eternal, silent prison. She'd be just another frozen body to pull out whenever I felt like it... But damn it, for cafeteria food... the food had been good. Really good. And if she wasn’t permanently frozen, she could keep making more of it. And she hadn’t even been on the list. I should try to stick to it; I do have some names to add to the collection, and I have names to just fuck around with. If they aren't on the list, they shouldn't be added.

Though.. I could easily just edit it...

I decided against it; grabbed a plastic spoon from the utensil bin, a couple of salt and pepper packets, and a small paper plate along with more borittos. Then I walked back out. In the hall, Gwen was still there in the hallway, frozen mid-stride. Know.. I did realize I really needed a rest. That was the whole point of eating before class. My head still felt heavy, and my body was dragging. But god damn. I’d been looking at that ass for three days straight. It was so small but so fat at the same time. It didn’t even make sense. Just the thought of it made my dick twitch. I set the spoon, packets, and plate down on a nearby table, then walked over to her. Just something... low energy. Quick. I didn’t have the stamina for anything big right now anyway.

I stepped behind her, grabbed the waistband of the denim skirt, and yanked it down along with her panties in one motion. The soft, round cheeks popped free. I gave one a rough squeeze, then the other, just because I could. Then I pushed her forward a little so she was bent at the waist, hands still frozen in the middle of her walking motion, that thick little ass stuck out toward me. She was still completely dry. I spat on my hand, smeared it around her asshole, and then just... pushed in. No warm-up, no gentleness. Just a quick, dry entry into a hole that wasn't ready for it. She was tight. So fucking tight. My head throbbed, a sharp pain behind my eyes that almost made me stop. But I pushed on, thrusting again; her hole was so tight and warm, it was like it was trying to crush my dick. I pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in. The friction was incredible, a dry heat that sent sparks through my exhausted body. I kept going, my pace quick and brutal, three strokes, ignoring the dizziness as time's pressure pushed on me. I was strong enough to ignore it and power through.

Yeah, that was until I briefly blacked out on the fourth thrust into her ass.

My body just gave out. I slumped forward, forehead hitting the middle of her frozen back, dick still half-buried inside her. The second my consciousness slipped, time itself snapped back into place.

Sound rushed in. Footsteps. Voices further down the hall. And under me, the girl suddenly wasn’t frozen anymore.

Gwen’s whole body tensed hard. A sharp, confused gasp left her throat.

"What the fu—" On instinct, her anus clamped down like a vise. My dick, still inside her, was caught in an iron grip. I never fucked the ass of an unfrozen woman, so I'm not sure how it was supposed to feel. But the sudden pressure woke me up with a jolt. It was as if she were superhuman or something, but that asshole had the might of a damn hydraulic press. The pressure was so intense, for a second I thought she might actually crush it.

"Ungh—!" I grunted, both from her tight grip on me and from the sheer befuddlement from momentarily blacking out. Everything was a fog.

Her whole body exploded into motion so fast it felt like I’d blinked and missed half of it. "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!??" Her elbow came back toward my head like a bullet. Her hips twisted hard, trying to throw me off. One of her hands shot down and almost locked around my wrist with a grip that felt way stronger than it should’ve been. At the same time she started to say something sharp and furious, the beginning of a word that never fully formed. "Get the fuck off me right now, or I swear to God I’ll—"

I only registered a violent blur, the beginning of that sentence, before I had enough. "Stop!"

Everything locked solid again in the middle of her counter. Gwen froze exactly as she was: twisted at the waist, one elbow still driving back toward where my head had been, fingers clamped around my wrist hard enough that it still hurt, mouth open on the unfinished threat. My dick was still half inside her. The hallway went dead silent once more. My head was pounding so hard I could barely see straight. That little blackout had been a warning. If I pushed past the limit, time forced itself back to normal whether I wanted it to or not. That could be very bad. Honestly... shit, I'd say fuck the bitch and use this as an excuse to permanently add her to my in-house collection, as punishment for almost giving me a heart attack. But this is a god-damn learning moment. To chill out when I'm clearly using my powers too much. Also, it's not like she's going to remember any of this; no one is. Not any of the teachers or students that started to come over from the commotion; I even could see that other friend of hers, what's her name? Mandy? Tandy? Whoever she was started rushing over. Yeah, we're not having that. Her mouth was open too; I bet she was about to shout something.

I plopped my menber out of Gwen's tight surprisngly strong asshole and walked over to the girl; it's always amusing seeing people, notably women like this, just statues in a frozen world of my making; let's just pretend I didn't temporarily black out and completely lose control just because I decided to forcefully shove my dick up her friend's butt when I was clearly exhausted. "You weren't fast enough to save your friend," I taunted, running my thumb along Tandy's frozen lips. "Now you're lucky your name isn't on the list." My thumb moved from her lips and shifted down to the neckline of her tank top. I could see a hint of the sizable boob mass beneath the fabric as I tugged on the collar to expose more cleavage; I gave a nice, solid squeeze to the breast I freed, her nipple hardening from the sudden exposure. Then, without care or warning, because who needed to warn a doll, I spat into her cleavage. I let it sit there, a single drop of my saliva glistening on her skin, it beginning to trickle down between her boobs into that dark line suspended mid-jiggle, before I pushed her bra and shirt back into place. The spit would now be trapped between her skin and her bra. "Try not to get in my way, and you two can continue to have lives," I warned the doll who wasn't aware enough to comprehend that bothering me might lead to life as they know it being paused in time and placed down permanently wherever and however I saw fit.

As a parting gift, I filted her face, still frozen in that surprised, open-mouthed gasp, and gave her a deep, French kiss, my tongue sliding into her unmoving mouth, her own tongue still behind her teeth. It was wet and warm, and I could taste her breath, which was actually quite pleasant; the sounds could be described as eerie, as she remained a motionless statue with no response to my advances, all while the noise of our kiss echoed in the otherwise silent hall. I pulled away, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Tasty," I said before going back to kiss her a bit longer. This time I explored her for a moment, my hand reaching down to cup her, then spank it. Before long, I pulled away, leaving a smear of my saliva on her lips.

"Alright, show's over," I said to no one in particular, "back to your friend."

walked back to Gwen, my head still throbbing, and pulled out with a grunt. The sudden release from her tight grip sent a weird tingle through me. For a moment I just stared at her, bent over and exposed, a perfect frozen statue of outrage and violation. Skirt and panties still shoved down around her thighs. That small-but-fat ass stuck out. The red mark of my hand still faintly visible on one cheek. The temptation was huge.

I spoke before I thought. "Gwen, loop. Last two sentences."

Time flickered specifically only for her.

Her whole body exploded into motion for a fraction of a second. "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!??" Her elbow snapped back toward my head like a bullet. Her hips twisted hard, trying to throw me off. One of her hands shot down and almost locked around my wrist with a grip that felt way stronger than it should’ve been. At the same time, her mouth started forming the rest of the threat, voice sharp and furious. Between her partially spread cheeks, her asshole clenched tight in pure reaction, then fluttered open again for a split second. "Get the fuck off me right now, or I swear to God I’ll—"

Then it cut off and snapped backward. She quite literally rubber-banded backward in motion in an almost glitch-like manner. Her elbow reversed. Her hips untwisted. The angry twist of her torso smoothed out. The words sucked back into her throat as her body returned to the exact bent-over position she’d been in a second earlier. Right before my eyes, her hole unclenched in reverse, relaxing back to the slightly open state it had been left in.

Then it played again.

"H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!??" Her ass flexed hard as her hips jerked. The soft flesh of her cheeks jiggled from the sudden violent movement. Her tits swung forward inside her top with the force of the twist. That same too-strong hand shot down toward my wrist again. And right between those spread cheeks, her asshole clenched hard, pulsing once like it was trying to close around something that wasn’t there anymore. "Get the fuck off me right now, or I swear to God I’ll—"

Then again. Snap. Reverse. Bobbled back like some doll.

Everything wound backward once more. The hole I had been inside relaxed again in reverse, the tight little ring slowly opening back up. The jiggle of her ass reversed into a strange upward compression. Her tits swung the opposite direction. The furious expression on her face melted back into the half-open, mid-gasp look she’d had when time first resumed.

Then the loop hit again.

"H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!??" Same violent twist. Same sharp elbow. Same hard, involuntary clench of her asshole, the muscles twitching and pulsing in perfect sync with the rest of her reaction. "Get the fuck off me right now, or I swear to God I’ll—"

I stood there watching it repeat, still breathing hard, dick still wet from being inside her. Every time the loop restarted, I got another perfect view of that ass clenching and bouncing with the effort of trying to throw someone off. Every reverse gave me the opposite motion, the flesh moving in ways that looked almost wrong. And every single cycle, that little hole between her cheeks would tighten hard and then slowly relax again, as a tiny science project stuck on repeat.

It was hypnotic.

And kind of funny.

I let it run a few more times, just enjoying the show, before eventually... "Aghhhk~!" My head began to ache. Looping without bothering to let myself recharge was a mistake. Shit.

I staggered back, one hand slamming against the side of my head. The headache spiked so hard my vision whited out for a second. The loop on Gwen collapsed into pure static, looping and flopping about without any semblance of subtlety. "H-Huhw—HAT..T-T-T-Tuhw- Get the f-f-fuck—" Her body jerked in broken, incomplete spasms. I barely saw it. I just needed the pain to stop; I frantically palmed for something to consume.

Everything rang, and rang... echoing like a gong. It felt like a wave was pulsing both through and out of my skull. Rippling across everything.

Across the school, the looping glitch spread like a virus. Tandy Bowen had been frozen mid-run in the hallway, still headed toward the bathroom after Gwen. One second she was locked in that forward lean. The next her body detonated into pure uncontrolled chaos.

The force of the hip twist and elbow snap threw her sideways into a row of lockers hard enough to dent the metal. Her top burst open from the impact. Her breasts spilled free, and her face slammed straight into them, nose buried deep in her own cleavage as drool immediately started pouring out of her mouth and down the soft curves. She scrambled in a floppy, bobble-headed mess, both hands already ripping her jeans into absolute shreds until only ruined strips hung around her knees. Her asshole clenched so tight it went white, then fluttered open again while her head bounced left and right, arms flopping like noodles. "H-Huhw—KKSSHH—Get the fuck—f-uck-me—right now—swear—HAT—I’ll—"

Further down the hall, Bridgette was frozen in the midst of fuming. Only for her to burst into the same loop. Her heavy body jerked so hard she crashed into the opposite wall of lockers. Both hands tore her skirt apart in violent, stuttering rips until the fabric hung in pieces. Her tits bounced free from the force of the impact and her face flopped forward into them, drooling freely while her head bobbled. Her asshole pulsed open and shut in the open air the entire time as she tried to keep mimicking the motion. "H-Huhw—Get the fuck off—me right—G-G-God—fuck-me-now—swear—"

Even quiet Jen, still holding her phone, was not spared. "H-Huhw—HAT—uck—Get the fuck—off me—right—ssss—I’ll—" The same catastrophic sequence seized her. The hip twist threw her into a water fountain hard enough to crack the basin. Both hands ripped her black skirt to pieces until nothing usable remained. Her smaller frame flopped and bobbled, face pressing into her own chest as drool stringed down, while her asshole clenched and released in the open air with every broken cycle.

In the span of minutes. Everyone in the school, and beyond, began to mimic Gwen's broken loop. Even Mom's frozen form, paused within the car like commanded after reversing home, the woman stuck in time still believing she woke up late and missed all of Sunday somehow, was currently in her car as her body started violently jerking back and forth, glitching in perfect sync with the girls at school. Her hips twisted hard, one elbow snapping back, head bobbled, and her tongue lolled out her butt smashed against the window pressing her asshole as it clenched and unclenched nothing while she sputtered out "H-Huhw—HAT—fuck—G-Get the fuck—f-fuck-me—right now—swear—I’ll—" The car shook violently as she looped.

Inside the bedroom closet, similar sounds could be heard from outside; thumping echoed through the walls with muffled "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!?? Get the fuck off me right now, or I swear to God I’ll—" and the rhythmic humping of their bodies repeatedly knocking against one another.

---

Two minutes prior.

Dr. Elena Green sat in the driver's seat of her silver sedan, parked two blocks from the school lot because the main entrance was already a mess of buses and parents. She was almost late again, which was normal, but she hated the feeling. Still, almost late was always better than actually late. A stack of graded quizzes sat on the passenger seat next to her half-finished café con leche. She muttered under her breath while flipping through the papers one last time. "Mierda... page four still missing the rubric. Ay, Dios, why do I always wait until the last second?"

She was in her mid-thirties, the kind of woman who still turned heads when she walked into a room. Warm caramel skin, dark wavy hair pulled into a loose twist that never quite stayed perfect, and a figure that filled out a white button-down blouse and charcoal pencil skirt in a way that made the school dress code look intentional. The blouse was a little tight across the chest; the top two buttons were always fighting for their lives. Black heels clicked whenever she moved. A thin gold chain rested in the soft valley between her breasts. She killed the engine, grabbed the stack of papers and her leather tote, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The morning air was already warm. Heel-clacks echoed off the concrete as she walked toward the school gates, still scribbling a note in the margin of a quiz with one hand while balancing the rest against her hip. "Okay, okay... just drop these off, grab the lab sheets, then I can finally sit down for five minutes. Maybe... then..."

Up ahead, right by the crosswalk closest to the school gates, Sofia from her first-period chem was laughing with her friend. "No, for real, he actually texted me that at like two in the morning. Can you believe this asshole actually said 'you up' after ghosting me for a week?"

"Girl, block him. I'm serious. He's not worth it."

"I know, I know, but like, I kinda—"

A ripple unseen to the naked eye erupted past her.

Sofia's body detonated. The hip twist spun her hard into the side of a parked car. Both arms flailed in huge, clumsy arcs while her hands tore her own jeans open along the seams. The denim split and hung in ragged strips. Her top rode up; her breasts bounced free, and her face drove straight into them a second later. Drool spilled down the soft curves as she kept thrashing, her hips humping the air as if something unseeable was fucking her, asshole clenching and fluttering in the open air. The impact with the car should have hurt. It didn't. The metal dented around her like she was the solid object. "H-Huhw—HAT THE-FUCK—FUCK me—H-Huhwswe-odH-Hu-I'll—"

Her friend only managed a half-step back, eyes wide. "Sofia, what the fuck are you doing?! Stop, you're going to—H-Huhw—what the—" The wave took her. Same violent twist. Arms windmilling. Skirt ripped to pieces by her own hands. "-HAT—off me right now—or I—" Drool was already running, with her asshole pulsing while her limbs overshot every attempt at mimicking some weird glitching pose. She slammed shoulder-first into a light pole, showing no signs of the impact affecting her at all.

Dr. Green stopped. Papers slipped from her fingers and scattered across the sidewalk. "Que carajo...? Girls! Someone help them, this is not funny, I need you both to—"

A woman in a navy blazer stood a little farther up, closer to the school than Dr. Green but not as close as the two students. The assistant to the principal, Ms. Bennett, she had been on a call, tablet in one hand, car door open. "Tell the board the numbers are final. I'm not renegotiating again, and if they think they can push this deadline, then they can find another firm. I'm done playing—" She saw the girls and her voice changed. "Hold on, something's going on. Two student just started tearing their clothes off and slamming into cars like it's nothing! Jesus Chris—" The ripple hit her. Her body jerked hard against the open door. One hand clawed at her blazer, buttons popping. The other ripped her own skirt, a professional knee-length thing, straight down the middle. "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK—numbers are final—God I'll—f-fuck—me right now—numbers are fi-H-Huhw—numbers—numbers-" She humped the door handle, drooling, her body flopping with a weird, unnatural strength that screeched the metal. The tablet hit the pavement and cracked. Her face drove into her own breasts; thick drool ran down while her asshole clenched and released in the open. One heel kicked out wildly. The car door bent inward where her hip struck it from the sheer speed. And she didn't even bruise.

Something was bad. What no one at the school knew was that the real reason for her tardiness was that this job was only a cover. She did care about her students and enjoyed the job. But her true loyalty lay with her ties to S.H.I.E.L.D. With agents stashed at every school in the city, she was assigned to oversee this side of town, and many times the mission would leave her with little time to keep up with her students' curricula. She always managed to be on time, but this... this was bad. Avengers-level bad.

The necklace dipped into her cleavage was a bit more than just a simple piece of jewelry. The gold locket was disguised, but pressing on the small clasp on the back activated the communicator to S.H.I.E.L.D. Whatever was happening seemed to be exploding out like some kind of unseeable ripple effect. That was why she was running, as she was able to analyze the effect of others to know the opposite direction to go in. While on the move, she reached a full hand into her cleavage, pulling out the locket. "¡Mierda! ¡Mierda!" She cussed under her breath; they had to know what was happening before—

The wave hit her too.

Her body exploded into the same catastrophic motion. The force of the hip twist threw her sideways into a lamppost hard enough to rattle the metal and leave a deep dent, the locket smashing from her hand and breaking across the concrete. Her heels snapped. She didn't fall. Instead, her own hands, moving with impossible, glitching speed, tore her white blouse open. Buttons popped like firecrackers. The fabric ripped down to her waist. Her heavy caramel breasts bounced free as the next uncontrolled lurch drove her face straight into them, drool immediately pouring down the soft curves as she bobbled. "H-Huhw—HAT—uck—Get the fuck—off me—right—ssss—I'll—" Her charcoal pencil skirt was next; it didn't just fall, it was shredded by her own flailing hands, the expensive fabric splitting like tissue paper in three violent yanks until it hung in ruined panels around her thighs. She humped the pole she was pinned against, the metal creaking under the force. Between her cheeks, her asshole clenched so tightly the surrounding flesh dimpled, then fluttered open again, completely exposed. Her heels scraped and kicked uselessly against the concrete, a perfect, unthinking mimicry of Gwen's reaction, her body glitching out the same sequence of tearing her clothes and convulsing on the pole. "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK—f-fuck me—¡Mierda!—H-Huhw—I'll—¡Mierd-¡Mi-fuck—off me—r-¡Mierda!—" The sounds she made were a garbled mess of S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, teacher, and glitching victim forced in an oblivious timeloop. The stack of graded quizzes she'd been holding, of course, had been long since forgotten, scattered in a mess, while the woman herself remained stuck in a loop.

It was spreading. Everywhere. Not just near the school. A block away, a businessman reading from his wristwatch suddenly turned into nothing more than a statue; his wife on the phone spoke through, confused by his lack of response. "Honey? Are you listening to me? Honey? Hon-" The loop took her. Only her voice could be heard through the phone, along with the sounds of her own clothes being torn to shreds and her body convulsing as she glitched out, breaking something from the other end of the phone, "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK—off me—right now—or-Honey-FUCK—off-Fuck—Fuck-me-Fuck-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK—hon-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK—Huhw—Huhw—"

The ripple kept expanding farther and farther from the school.

On the active four-lane road, a rideshare driver in a gray sedan had been mid-turn, one hand on the wheel, the other gesturing while she talked to her passenger. "I'm telling you the app is wrong, the pin is clearly on this side of the street. I've driven this route a hundred times. Just give me a second to—H-Huhw—what the—" The wave hit the car. The driver’s body convulsed. Her hands, moving with inhuman speed, one tore at her own clothes, the other wrenched the steering wheel so hard the tires shrieked.

Her passenger in the back seat, a college-aged girl with headphones on, hadn't even noticed at first. Then the impact threw her forward. She ripped her headphones off. "Hm? Mom? Wh-what's going on? Why'd you—" The loop seized her. She tore her own hoodie apart. She slammed her face into the back of the passenger seat, drooling. "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK—I'll—fuck-me—right-now—what's-going-on—H-Huhw—"

The sedan skidded, jumped the curb, and slammed sideways into a fire hydrant. Water exploded into the air. The driver glitched out, seemingly teleporting out of the car instead of flying through it, with her glitching loop leaving her practically naked on the cement, her body humping the steering wheel now suddenly in her hand, no longer attached to the car itself somehow. Drool ran down the mother's chest, her skirt shredded, asshole clenching as she mimicked the loop in the driver's seat, head bobbled into her own tits. "-T-T-T-HE FUCK—f-fuck me—right now—H-Huhw—The-app-is—FUCK-fuck-FUCK-me—off-get the—FUCK-wrong—fuck—I'll—" Dispite her car being absolutely totalted, the woman was perfectly fine, looping as if nothing happened, time not allowing any injery as she was a repeating anus-flashing glitch. Besides her, her daughter had flown out of the car, also in perfect condition, but glitching and humping her naked ass directly into her mother's face, asshole twitching.

Around them on the street, every male driver and passenger froze solid the instant the wave touched them. Cars continued on their last trajectories. One truck drifted into the next lane. A motorcycle stayed perfectly balanced for two full seconds while the helmet-masked woman was looping "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK—off me—right now—or—God—I'll—" Her expression unreadable under the mask, hands no longer even remotely steering it; humping the air before gravity remembered it and it slowly tipped over and slid across the asphalt. The street became a glitched mess of chaos and statues. Another driver, arguing with her son, "I swear to.. you need to grow up, young-" The wave passed, and she no longer cared about the conversation; "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK—off me—right now—or—I'll—" The driver's body convulsed against the seatbelt. Clothes were torn, and the mother and son were glitching. Mainly the mother; the boy's face was now frozen and forced into his mother's tits as she humped him. Drool spilled across her son's face as her ass, long since ripped out of her jeans, smashed against the window, smearing a thick line of sweat that had been pent up beneath. Her asshole pulsed as if being fucked.

Besides them, an SUV. With a woman who was in a bad mood after waking up late, no longer cared about the cup of coffee she was trying to balance as she now had more important things to do, such as glitching out and ripping her shirt apart. She humped the steering wheel, drool spilling onto the dashboard. "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK—off me—right now—or—I'll—" The SUV kept rolling, no longer with a sane driver, drifting across the center line until it sideswiped a frozen truck with a long, grinding shriek of metal. The impact crumpled the side of the truck and shattered the rideshare driver's window. Glass sprayed across her exposed skin and breasts. She didn't bleed. She didn't even flinch. She just kept thrashing in the same broken loop, face buried in her own cleavage, asshole clenching and releasing while the two vehicles scraped along together.

Farther down the block, a woman walking her dog glitched mid-step, clothes tearing; she instantly began humping the nearby park bench, her asshole smearing over the side, while her dog took its chance to run away, animals seemingly entirely unaffected. It even tackled the frozen man running the hotdog stand, stealing all his food into its stomach, while he just toppled over, rolling across the floor. Across from him, the woman who was about to order didn't seem to mind; she was already ripping her own dress apart, her glitching looping causing her to hump her hotdog stand, causing it to tip over, spilling all the food and juices as she humped it and the dog quickly lapped up as much as it could. "H-Huhw—HAT—I'll take aaaa—Get the fuck off me-I'll take aaaa...right now—Get the fuck off me-I'll take aaaa.." The loop kept repeating and repeating and repeating.

Only a little farther down, a mail carrier in her late twenties had been sliding letters into a row of boxes, earbuds in, humming under her breath. She turned at the sound of cars colliding in a sudden crash behind her. "What the hell!??? Hey! Is everybody okay over there or do I need to call—" The wave took her. The mail bag hit the ground. Both arms flailed as she ripped her blue shorts and shirt apart. Her face drove into her breasts; drool ran down while her asshole clenched and fluttered in the open air, envelopes scattering around her boots. She stumbled backward into a brick wall hard enough to crack the mortar. Nothing on her broke. "H-Huhw—HAT—crash—off me right now—or I swear—"

High above, a commercial airliner was making its approach. The male pilot froze solid at the controls the moment the expanding ripple reached the cockpit, hands locked on the yoke. The co-pilot, a woman, only had time to glance over.

"Captain, you're not responding to ATC. What's going on? Talk to me—" The chaos seized her. Her body thrashed against the harness. Both hands tore at her uniform blouse and trousers. Her face planted into her own chest, drool stringing down, asshole clenching and releasing while the plane continued on its frozen-pilot course. Fortunately, it was autopilot, not that it would matter as everyone seemed to be impervious to all harm when stuck in a loop. Proven such by how behind them, when the wave rolled through the cabin. A flight attendant handing out drinks froze mid-pour. The two women beside her glitched and ripped at each other's clothes. The beverage cart crashed sideways down the aisle as the flight attendant humped the armrest of a seat, drooling onto the floor, her uniform in tatters, ass and asshole pressed into the seat cushions. One woman near the emergency exit slammed her head into the bulkhead hard enough to leave a dent in the plastic. "H-Huhw—HAT THE FUCK—off me right now—or—God I'll—" She kept looping without a mark on her. And in their seats, every other female passenger became a part of the same glitching, clothes-ripping, humping, drooling chain reaction. It was absolute confined chaos; the interior became a glitched-out symphony of spasming limbs and torn fabric as the plane soared on, a metal tube full of male statues and looping female chaos.

The ripple kept expanding. It moved through suburban homes, offices, factories, and city blocks at a relentless speed. The pattern repeated itself with no variation. Every male it touched became a statue, frozen in whatever mundane act they were performing. Every female was seized, her body hijacked to re-enact Gwen's moment of violation and outrage, her clothes shredded, her holes exposed and clenching in rhythm with a phantom assault.

The ripple didn't stop; it wouldn't stop. The loop was now a full-blown plague. An invisible force set to overtake the entire Earth. Chaos ran rampant. All the while Dexter coaxed a raging headache, one where he couldn't hear or focus on anything; everything was a blur. Everything was chaos he couldn't see.

The world needed its Avengers, its X-Men. Its heroes.

They'd stop this. When the world needed them most, they always did.