Chapter 7 by Dogdog

What's next?

Time alone in the dorm

The click of the door echoed in the sudden quiet of the room. I was alone. Finally. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of anticipation and anxiety. I dropped my duffel bag onto the bottom bunk, the canvas thumping against the mattress.

So then... Roommate. Dominic. Didn't think I'd have one, but here I am. I should've guessed.

He looked… fine. Normal. Not like the other women here who seemed sculpted by some horny god. But there was something about him. A stillness, a watchfulness in his eyes that didn’t quite match the slouching posture. Even though I was sure they couldn’t directly see my projections, that guy seemed to have sensed something. While making small talk with Dominic, I had taken a picture of him. The app is very blatantly called, Custom Girls, yes… but I just had to find out what would happen if I tried uploading a guy to it. Even if I didn’t have much interest at all in actually messing around with males in the same way as I would go crazy for the females.

I climbed up to the topmost bunk; its position in the room was perfect for my needs. Off to the side, I’d be able to lie against the wall with some semblance of privacy, as the bed’s elevation alone would prevent anyone from seeing up here unless they made a direct effort to climb to a higher point. It would be hard to transition away from my private pervert’s paradise of a bedroom to a dual-room setup with another guy. But it shouldn’t be a problem. Hopefully. Dominic seemed chill, or at the very least, uninterested. He didn’t come off as the type to butt into my business, which worked out perfectly for me. On top of having this bunk, where I could probably even wank one out without being caught, this should be a manageable situation. Though if I could use the app on Dominic… if only to be able to find some way to gain control of this room... That would be all the better. I was able to make someone as smart-looking as Mr. Monroe remain absurdly oblivious to her ass being made my plaything. I’m sure I could find a way to make my roommate just as oblivious to something as inevitable as me jerking one out with all these pictures I was getting in the sea of hotties that was this school.

I flopped onto the mattress, the stiff springs groaning in protest. Pulling out my HUD, my thumb hovered over the photo I’d snapped of Dominic—a quick, candid shot as he’d looked down at his phone. I hit upload.

Let’s see… I found the image in my gallery and opened the app. When I tried to upload it, the app gave me a prompt.

Error: Subject Not Recognized as Female. True form required. Upload Aborted.

Huh. So it’s not just the app’s title. It’s a hard-coded restriction. A disappointment, but not a surprise. I wasn’t planning on using it on him anyway, not really. I just wanted to make sure he’d stay out of my hair. Alas…

Wait…

I leaned up, eyes narrowing at the screen as I read it over again.

True form required?

Wasn’t Dominic’s current form, the one I took a picture of… his true form? Unless… unless it wasn’t…?

I found myself frowning, as my eyes scanned the same error message once, twice, three times over. Something wasn’t adding up. But I had a theory I wasn’t fully confident in, and I couldn't even fully admit it mentally. But without a thought, I re-entered my personal photo gallery. It was full of so many boobies, butts, faces, and candid cleavage shots, nearly all of which were from before I had arrived here. That said, I had been taking random pictures of the school itself. It’s a new place, I couldn’t help myself. Even when at the cafeteria, I had taken a few mental images of just the environment itself. Some of which had faces I didn’t even know, but they’d do for what I wanted to test. There was a photo of the lunch line from my perspective. I had a pretty good shot at a student I didn’t recognize. Some guy with a scaly complexion on his skin, he had blonde hair, and a very plain-looking face outside of the scales.

Zooming in, I cropped the image and saved it separately to only focus on the subject. Then, uploaded the image to Custom Girls.

Error: Subject Not Recognized as Female. Upload Aborted.

I went to another image, another random student. Same.

Then, after trying with two random guys, I tried again to re-upload the image of Dominic.

Error: Subject Not Recognized as Female. True form required. Upload Aborted.

The same message again. But the wording was still nagging me. It wasn’t just a flat rejection; it was a specific, conditional failure. True form required. The phrase echoed in my mind, a strange, persistent hum. Why would the app care about a “true form”? What did that even mean in this context? I’d uploaded plenty of pictures of women, and none of them had prompted this. Most of them failed for conditional reasons, as they required more data within the photo. But they never provided an error.

Then, a thought, wild and absurd, struck me like lightning. What if Dominic wasn’t who he seemed? What if the slouching, unassuming “Dominic Poe” was just as much a costume as all those superheroes living double lives? The app had reacted differently. It hadn’t just said ‘subject not female,’ as it had for the other guys I tested this on, it had said ‘true form required.’ Was Dominic even a guy? A male shapeshifter would probably still show the general error message that comes up when scanning a guy… what if my roommate was actually a chick?

The idea of my roommate being a chick in disguise… the mere thought caused my cock to twitch.

My mind raced, connecting dots I didn’t even know were there. It made sense. The watchfulness in his eyes, the practiced disinterest, the almost too-perfectly unremarkable appearance. He… or potentially, she… wasn’t just hiding; she was performing. It shouldn’t be crazy to assume they were a shapeshifter; this was a school for mutants. A shapeshifter wasn’t exactly a wild leap. Still, why would she hide as a guy? Maybe she was shy. Or maybe she had some other reason…

A wicked grin spread across my face. The app wasn’t just a tool for gratification; it was a god damn lie detector, one that could see through the masks people wore… makes me wonder if those sexy super-babes are up for grabs too…with their secrets, and hidden identities. If they’re a girl, the Custom Girl’s app doesn’t seem to discriminate, even if they’re literally shapeshifted into a guy. It gave my dick another pulse of excitement; there was just something about ripping away the hidden secrets from women, all while I kept my own from them. Hell, Ms. Monroe’s ass smelling like literal strawberries was certainly a secret she didn’t expect anyone to notice. But my cock certainly enjoyed the sensation. Assess doesn’t typically smell that good naturally. The idea that she starts her mornings by spreading her cheeks to powder them up, clapping those fat chocolate meat pillows back together, and trapping the sweet scent of strawberries within that heated cake… was hot in its own right. And add onto that fact that she certainly did not intend anyone to notice her fresh ass scent, especially the student she was planning on recruiting today, was just the icing on the cake. I’ll break down more of her secrets. Next thing I know, she’s secretly some superhero or something. Heh… of course not that, but even still! The potential was driving me mad!

It was a long shot. A crazy, baseless leap of logic. But the app had already proven it operated on a logic I couldn’t begin to fathom, bending reality to its whims. If it could make such a dignified teacher like Mr. Monroe let me motorboat her ass, then who’s to say it couldn’t see through a disguise?

I once again let myself flop back onto the bunk, the mattress groaning in protest of my perverted eagerness. Letting the time pass, I tried to settle down somewhat and let my erection simmer as I soaked in my new surroundings. The room smelled of bleach and old wood. Two desks, two closets, two bunks. Seemed like a fairly standard setup. The walls were a bland off-white, the floor scuffed linoleum. It was a blank slate. A canvas. And despite trying to calm myself, I was filled with a restless, buzzing energy. This was it. This was the start of… well, everything to come.

My mind was racing, a chaotic slideshow of images. Hisako’s focused glare on that cute face, I could just imagine it covered in cum. The Headmistress’s huge tits, inflated with milk, no doubt with her pregnancy, those things certainly must be containing some major milk! Ms. Munroe. The warmth of her denim, the faint strawberry scent, the way she just… stood there… And… fuck, Anna-Marie’s yoga pants, the sheer… impossible geography of her ass! I’ve seen plump asses, motorboated one of them, but even compared to some heroines I’ve wanked to, I swear her glorious rear globes alone rivaled many of them. And she’s not even a heroine! She’s just a teacher. God, what I’d kill to somehow get her AND Rogue in the Custom Girls app, I swear her ass might rival the famous heroines’ perfect plump peach!

Thoughts like these weren’t doing my member any favors. I made an attempt to stay somewhat productive before I’d devolve into yet another jerking off session. And spent some time looking through menus. I found a section called ‘‘Missions.’’ Inside, there were a few active quests, all marked with a bronze or silver border.

[ Mission: Welcome to the Institute ]

Objective: Get acquainted with members of the faculty.

Progress: 1/5 (Storm, Jean Grey, Anna-Marie)

Reward: Half-off Coupon for any Custom Girl

[ Mission: First Friends ]

Objective: Socialize with five different students.

Progress: 1/5 (Hisako, Laura, Ellie)

Reward: Trigger any Non-Custom Girl to provide an image of your choice.

[ Mission: A Roommate’s Secret ]

Objective: Discover your roommate’s true form.

Progress: ???

Reward: ???

Interesting, these are separate from the Achievement section. Missions look to be specific things I must go out of my way to do, and they appear as I progress and encounter situations. Achievements might be stuff that can happen naturally, or are less specific, and they only seem to provide gem bonuses, whereas these missions had clearly stated rewards. That’s all, not to mention how the last mission on that list specifically mentions my roommate’s true form… that solidifies any doubt I might have about him or her.

Moving away from that page, I went to the main screen where my current Custom Girls were located. 3D projections of them T-Posing in the menu with their names projected above. Ororo Monroe and Jean Grey. It was may more fun than I’d like to admit to just spin their models around in a circle, zooming in on their asses and tits, as if I were some game dev admiring my work. But these two were real people, probably doing or saying things right at this very moment, while I had projections of them like video game characters right under their noses. It’s thrilling.

I tapped on Jean’s profile and pulled up her list of potential purchases.

Under the breast tab, listed:

Allows people to touch breasts without consequence: 15 Gems.

Feels immense pleasure when her breasts are played with or rubbed against: 10 Gems.

Squeezes tits whenever she says “breasts” or a similar word: 4 Gems.

Increase cup size: 2 Gems [Upgrade-able] +1 cup size.

Breast milk leaks during embarrassment: 12 Gems.

In the ass section, there were three others.

Allows people to touch ass without consequence: 15 Gems.

Ass cheeks clap audibly when walking fast: 6 Gems. [Upgrade-able] + Clap sound and minimum speed needed.

Toggle (****/Allowed/Craved) spankings as punishment: 25 Gems.[u]

[/u]There was even a ‘‘Misc.’’ section, with three available options.

Pregnancy cravings include semen [If no longer pregnant, changes to ‘Post-Pregnancy’ cravings]: 30 Gems.

Always bend at 90-degree angles: 10 Gems.

Trips into compromising positions near you [anything within the pregnant belly remains perfectly unharmed]: 6 Gems. - - - - - -

There was even a Mental Manipulation section, with its own purchase options.

Laughs at any joke, no matter how crude, if hears “Just kidding,” within a short period of time after the ‘joke’ is made: 15 Gems.

50% Chance to forget to wear bras or panties daily: 10 Gems. [Upgrade-able/5 gems] +10% chance per upgrade.

Snapping your fingers causes her to temporarily speak aloud her thoughts: 22 Gems.

Seeing all the things I could potentially purchase for Ms. Grey had my cock at full mast. She’s the freakin’ Headmistress! If I can bend her around my dick with this app, everyone else here should be a walk in the park once I get more girls added to the app. And I hadn’t looked this deep before; below each section, I only now noticed a button that read - Daily Refresh. By hovering my finger over it, an information pop-up appeared.

‘‘Daily Refresh: The available options for this character will randomly refresh daily. Using a refresh token will immediately refresh their options, potentially granting a new set of three purchasable modifications to appear across random tabs. The same options can appear. Use this sparingly, as you may miss out on an option you truly desire! Tokens are NOT provided daily; they can only be gained through missions and achievements.’’

A small counter at the top of the screen read: ‘‘1 Refresh Token.’’ That could be useful. I’m sure there are options I would want more than others. That said, the current list of options is already so damn good.

In fact, they are so good I’ve gotta make a purchase before I forget, especially if the app will refresh some of them daily. Not to mention, I haven’t given Ms. Ororo’s page the same deep dive; she probably has some fun things hidden in there, too.

I checked my available pool only to find a roadblock in response.

Gems: 0

Right. I used the last of my gems to make the headmistress’s tits bigger…

Well, fuck me.

Whatever.

I sighed and closed away the Custom Girls application, instead shifting over to my tried and true photo gallery. I had no regrets, well maybe a little, but making her boobies bigger was so worth it, even more so knowing they are full of milk, prime for the taking. There will certainly be solid options even after a refresh, and the information tab said the same modifications can appear again even if I manually refresh the listings, so this isn’t a major roadblock anyway. Besides, this is just an excuse to do what I always do when I’m bored or pent-up. I brought up the gallery again, and my eyes scanned over the pictures I had snagged within the last hour. The shot of Anna-Marie’s yoga-clad ass, the one I had so carefully taken. The picture of Hisako’s determined face, full of fire, as she stared me down. And of course, the ones of Ms. Monroe, my personal prize, her round ass wrapped in tight denim.

My other hand had already snaked its way down my jeans, wrapping around my hard shaft. I started to stroke, slow and steady, my thumb brushing over the head. I switched between the pictures, my pace quickening.

Ororo closed the door to Jean’s office behind her, the soft click a welcome punctuation to a morning that had spiraled into… strange territory. She leaned against the cool wood, her eyes closed, taking a deep breath to center herself. The memory of Max’s face pressed against her backside was a warm, confusing phantom sensation. She had allowed it. Of course, she would. After all, she does allow people to touch her ass without consequence… for some reason…

She was, is, and always will be an extremely perceptive woman. One aspect that sets her apart, outside of her unique mutant abilities, from others within the X-Men is how she can analyze, humanize, and logically put together any situation. She was a problem solver and a solution finder, all without needing to boast their intelligence like the many geniuses she’s met over the years. It’s hard, if not impossible, to put the wool over her eyes; her own level of common sense was anything but common. Yet, with all that said, she just didn’t question why she allowed anyone to touch her ass, especially when it seemed like no one even knew about her own complicity, save for the student she just met. That was an interesting thing she had noticed, only the youthful teen was going at her backside, even though it was open to anyone. But she couldn’t place her tongue on why she even allowed it in the first place. She simply didn’t even consider it. If she had, she’d find it odd. But that line of thought just never arrived.

“Everything alright, Ro?” Jean was standing by her large oak desk. She glanced up from the data-slate in one hand, the other resting on the swell of her breasts that did appear to be too large for her blouse; a noticeable amount of cleavage was showing. A woman, usually rather modest, at most showing the slightest darkest line of cleavage, had a much more obvious line showing between her breasts. Not that Ororo even second-guesses the larger chest size of her best friend.

“Just… processing the new student,” Ororo said. She walked over to the large window that overlooked the grounds, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the manicured lawns. Her reflection stared back at her, a composed and regal woman. “He’s certainly a… handful, isn’t he?”

“Exactly the reason why I think you were the best fit to bring him here.” Jean continued tapping on the slate in her hand. “I just finished registering him in the X-Men database. You did great. We’ll work on reigning him in over the coming days. The boy is more perverted than most mutants going through puberty. But it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

“Heh~ I do sympathize, I had my own immature moments at his age. The X-Gene has a way of… taking the wheel when hormones are developing.” Ororo replied, a touch too quickly. “Outside of that, he seems like a normal teenage boy. A bit distracted, perhaps.”

“Distracted is one word for it,” Jean chuckled, placing the digital pad on the large desk. She approached her friend by the window. She leaned against the taller woman, letting out a sigh. “This headmistress thing… It’s a lot. Thank you again, sister.”

“Of course, anything for you. It is not easy. To be in charge of both the X-Men and all the mutant minds of the institution. Yet you manage. Being both headmistress,” Ororo placed a gentle hand over Jean’s belly, “And mother to be.”

Smiling, Jean moved her own hand to rest atop hers. “It’s easier with you by my side.” Then suddenly, she blinked as a thought came to mind, “Oh~! I actually almost forgot to mention. About our new student…” The telepath shifted away from the window and picked up the tablet once again. She maneuvered a finger across its surface and projected his data logs above them. “I believe in my meeting with him, he might’ve taken a picture of me.”

The screen showed a log of all information she had logged. “Oh?” Ororo raised a perfect white eyebrow. “It did seem as though he was distracted by something in front of him. Do you believe he can see a projection of some kind that we cannot?”

“Definitely. His ability is technokenesis. I knew he could see screens without us being able to see them. But now I’m certain he can also project apps within his own headspace. I’ve searched past logs and encounters of his abilities over the years. He has clearly taken images in the past.” Jean explained. “He’s used to sneaking pictures of girls at his past school. I imagine he’d try the same here.”

“So he took a picture of you?” Ororo inquired.

“Yes. But I think he believes he’s more covert than he actually is. Once you notice, it’s obvious. He blatantly took a picture of my cleavage when I was leaning forward.” Jean pointed down to her blouse, and the blatantly obvious deep cleavage that was currently on display, “Even though I’m barely revealing any cleavage. I made sure not even an inch was showing, but when I leaned forward, of course, he managed to snap a glimpse and take an image.”

Ororo sighed, “Teenagers. We knew to expect something like this… how do you want to proceed then, headmistress?”

Jean chuckled at the use of her title, “I suppose I am the one in charge here and can do whatever I want with him, huh?”

“You said it, not me,” smirked Ororo.

“Well, he just got here. We need to get him comfortable. So we can help him control his perverted mind.” Jean explained. “I noticed instantly, he was clear as day. But I didn’t bring attention to it, so he’ll stay content with his current situation. However, a horny teenage boy. We have to set some ground rules. For now, just keep an eye on him. I’ll share this information with the others as well. I’ll talk to him in the morning and suggest he stay in line. If he crosses it again, we will act.”

“A sensible course of action,” Ororo nodded. “So we are to simply… allow him to continue for now?”

“For now. The boy is clearly starved for attention and an outlet. He’ll learn to control himself eventually. But for now, let him be.” Jean said. “And if he crosses the line, we’ll be sure to make sure it doesn’t happen again. The safety of our students comes above all else.”

“Of course,”

“And perverted, or not. I imagine he’ll try to be on his best behavior during his first few days. I’m not too worried about what he’ll do with any of those pictures as of now. I purposely put him in a dual dorm room; it should limit his privacy. I doubt he’ll be able to do… You know what, with that image of me, anytime soon.”

I was lost in the rhythm, a familiar, blissful tide pulling me under. The images on my HUD flickered, a frozen slideshow of my conquests, each one fueling the fire building in my groin. Jean’s glorious cleavage. Hisako’s stern, fuckable face. And then, my favorite. Ororo. The perfect, denim-clad sphere of her ass, the memory of its warmth against my cheek, the phantom scent of strawberries. My strokes became faster, more erratic. My breath hitched. I was close, so close, teetering on the precipice. My world had shrunk to the glowing screen in my mind’s eye and the frantic pumping of my fist.

Next thing I knew, I had passed out, shooting ropes of cum as the darkness consumed me…

Mystique returned to her dorm almost six hours later. She wanted to spend as much time away from this newbie as possible, and just spent the rest of her day in her usual classes. She was a good student, one who didn’t cause much trouble in her disguise. A model student. This is all so she wouldn’t draw attention to herself. When she opened the door, the first thing she noticed was that her new roommate had already made himself comfortable on the top bunk. The second thing she noticed was the potent smell of something… distinct… But then she saw it. A wet spot on the lower bunk’s pillow. She froze for a moment, her eyes scanning the room. He was asleep, a soft snore escaping his lips.

She walked over to her closet, grabbing her nightclothes. She turned her back to him, just to make sure he was out of it, her movements fluid and practiced. He was completely and utterly knocked out. The idiot didn’t even fully put his pants on; he clearly just jerked off and fell asleep. She rolled her eyes and stripped out of her “Dominic” persona. The shaggy brown hair elongated and transitioned to her bright red; the pale skin shimmered and shifted into its natural, cool blue hue. Her form grew, the slight slump in her shoulders correcting into a posture of predatory grace. While her clothes materialized back to her usual elegant white dress, which tightly hugged her feminine hourglass figure.

Mystique stretched, feeling the relief of shedding the clumsy male form. It was nice to have her big breasts again; they brought back a comfortable familiarity. It was like taking off a pair of shoes that were two sizes too small. Noticing another drip from his bunk that went splat down onto her bed, she walked over to her pillow and touched it. It was damp. She brought her finger to her nose and sniffed. “Ugh~!” It was semen! She wrinkled her nose in disgust. He had already started. Of course, he had. Teenage boys were all the same. She made a mental note to ask the faculty for some replacement pillow covers as soon as possible. She was not going to be sleeping on a pillow that her roommate had jizzed on.

Shaking her head, Mystique walked over to the window, peering out at the moonlit grounds. The school was quiet, a peaceful oasis in a world that hated and feared them. But for her, it was a cage. A gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless. She was always on, always performing. She couldn’t risk being herself, not here. Not with the X-Men watching her every move. She sighed, her breath fogging the glass. She had a long road ahead of her. Once everything falls into place, every pesky member of the X-Men will be kneeling before the Brotherhood.

This new roommate was just another obstacle to overcome. Speaking of him. She looked over to the bunk and approached it. She was much taller than little youthful " Dominic, " a woman in her mid 30’s pretending to be a teenage boy; it was beneath her. But someone had to do it; everyone else in the Brotherhood was full of brain-dead idiots and morons.

So, then again… they’d probably fit in right next to this guy. With her much taller than before, she was able to see up in his bunk more easily. His dick was flaccid and dropping a pool of cum that had seeped over and began dripping down to the bottom bunk. This was clearly a pervert who never had a roommate before, or even a sense of shame for that matter. Looking at him, totally out of it, she couldn’t help but sneer, “Damn moron. Can’t even tell when someone’s spying on you.”

She made her way to the bathroom to clean herself up. But as she passed the mirror, she paused. A flicker of an idea sparked in her mind. She looked at her reflection, her yellow eyes gleaming with a newfound purpose. This perverted roommate of hers… he was a liability. But he could also be an asset. She could use him. Manipulate him. Make him her pawn. It’s far easier to expedite her plans if she could have an easy fall guy if said plans meet a hiccup. A slow, wicked grin spread across her blue face. Hm. This might be more fun than she thought.