Chapter Text
Look, don’t make me explain quantum physics with you. Because I can’t. But I will give you some insight into my abilities, and my plans. As for the reason I’m doing it? It’s a two-part answer. One, because I can. And two? You guessed it. Mommy issues. It’s not that she abused me or neglected me; okay, I guess it’s the second thing—to an extreme. She abandoned me, when I was six no less, and as a single mom to begin with, that’s some cruel shit.
Seems that the selfish bitch has made a monster of me. To a degree; I don’t plan to go around [vaginally or anally] raping women and then skedaddling to leave in my wake a warpath of trauma and innocent lives ruined. But I will have my fun. The only kind that an unnaturally talented boy like myself can have. Look, this ain’t Brightburn, nor is it Shazam!—I’m neither villain nor superhero. Well, I suppose I could be a villain, but not to the world. Just hot moms with boys my age. Oh, yeah. Preteen. I won’t specify a number, because it doesn’t really matter. Also, I’m not that certain; let’s just say my mind isn’t what it used to be, despite a sort of maturation despite my physical youth.
Traversing the multiverse does a number on your psyche. Maybe my travels before setting out to be a quantum deviant has something to do with it. An unraveling, if you will.
That said, there is some strategy to this. Some mentally plotted parameters. For example, there’s the age thing. Call it a connection; like a bridge that only I can walk, and the only bridge that I can walk. As for why only boys this age, and not older, or even younger? I imagine it has something to do with the vulnerability of puberty. Then there are the circumstances, into which I am thrust. I can only access boys who are experiencing some degree of arousal in the moment, whether hinging on discovery, or trying to hide it, or simply entertaining an intrusive thought.
These are the windows into which I leap at random.
Perhaps most importantly—the biggest factor that I cannot control. The proverbial reset button. When I cum, the orgasm rattles me and for five to eight seconds after my balls are depleted, I zip to the next. Except that when I do, I have no recollection of the last. So each interaction is like the first, and there’s no denying that this amplifies the sexual experience, especially for a preteen boy. In order to retain these memories, I’ve fashioned a neurological filing device that is currently attached to me; it documents my thoughts, and via advanced AI dictates what my eyes are seeing and my body feeling.
No room for error, or even creative liberty. Just raw info.
So that’s that. You don’t need to know my name, or even what I look like. Because moving forward, I am them. What heightens this experience for me, which I’ve learned via my trial run, is that it isn’t just a fleeting case of body-possession. I don’t simply inhabit their minds, I absorb their consciences, and for however briefly I feel everything that makes them…them. Most notably, their mothers. She isn’t just “some mom”; in that moment, she is my mother, and it’s hard to explain, but this palpable knowledge, this unbridled sensation, makes the taboo experience tenfold exciting.
What can I say? I’m a thrill-seeker, with an ability that would make any boy—or man—on this planet salivate.
Sure, I might be ruining their lives after I have my fun, but for those short moments, while they’re in the Sunken Place or sitting on the sideline, I bet they’re grateful. You’re welcome, kiddos.