The Zip Files Bk. 01: Zip Unzips Ch. 08

Zip Unzips

Episode One of the Zip Files - the Saga of a Lesser Super-Villain

Recap: Zack "Zip" Zilch has discovered he has the mutant powers to control womens' clothing and to enlarge his penis. He has used these powers to seduce, blackmail, and subjugate his buxom biology teacher, Mrs. Sablier. He then summoned her to his home on Friday night so she could teach him a much more practical sort of biology. Now, having disposed of Mrs. Sablier, Zip spends the rest of his weekend further exploring his powers...

Author's Note: this chapter is basically a containment zone for all the exposition and 'world-building' and 'what-if' questions that popped out when I first started writing Zip. There is sex stuff in it but it is largely lower-key. If you're the kind of person who doesn't care at all about the so-called 'plot' and just says 'okay, he can make a woman's pants fall down and then fuck her, got it, let's get to the porn' then you may want to skip this one, or just skim it until you see smut happening. If you are the kind of person that needs to know the details of how the main character's power works and want to see him testing it all out before you get to fapping, um, well... you're in luck!

Note also, the opening bit here is the first sequence in our saga so far that breaks time sequence. Just a head's up.

Finally, all characters appearing in this work are over the age of eighteen.

Chapter 8: Zip goes Exploring

"Oh... my God..." the pretty shop-girl said. She stared, her eyes wide, as she saw the enormous monster that lay coiled inside his fly. She shook her head - her eyes never leaving the opening in his pants as she did so. "That... that can't be..." she whispered softly.

"It's real," Zip assured her. "Go ahead - reach in and see, if you want to."

Her eyes darted up to him briefly. Her face shivered with emotions - like she wanted to call him out for a half-dozen different offenses. But she could not hold it. Her eyes, sinking back down, widened, and she squirmed. She took a deep breath - making her C-cup breasts rise and fall within the button-down blouse to which her name-tag was pinned. It read 'Isabel.'

"Are you sure, it's alright?" Isabel asked at last - the last traces of outrage having been driven off her face by the sight of his veiny shaft growing slightly inside his fly, like a serpent uncoiling in its den. She squirmed, her curvy hips wiggling inside her short dark skirt - well aware that it was her staring at it that was making him erect.

He smiled at her - and tried his best to keep it a friendly smile, without a hint of condescension or smarm. He hoped he succeeded.

"Only if you want to," he assured her. "If not, then don't. I won't tell anyone a thing, either way."

"Oh..." Isabel said. She seemed relieved.

Lifting her bleached-blonde head, a finger to her lips, the shapely shop-clerk looked hastily one way and then the other. They stood on the border between maternity and lingerie. There were a few customers in sight, but they were distant. Her supervisor was nowhere to be seen.

"Alright, then," she said.

They stood half immersed in a large circular rack of tent-like maternity dresses. The angle of his body, and hers standing next to him, meant that a security camera would have had to be directly overhead to see what they were doing - and none were even close.

Slowly, Isabel reached out, and put her hand on his crotch beside his fly.

Looking down, Zip watched her fingers intently - and so did she, panting softly beside him. Her little hand seemed to tremble outside his open fly, like a party of cowardly amazons shivering before the entrance to a dragon's cave. For a moment he didn't think she would go in. But then, sliding gradually forward, she did.

"Oh..." Isabel gasped - as her fingertips started to make contact with his penis. She stroked him, caressing lightly at his long veiny shaft. Then, growing bolder, she slid her entire hand into his pants, wrapped around him from below, and tried to take a firm grip.

"Oh... oh my God!" she gasped softly, her eyes going wide - as her fingers failed to close entirely around him. She shook her head, staring downward in awe past his shoulder. "It really is... BIG!" she whispered.

Then, slowly, within his pants, her coiled hand began to stroke up and down him - both marveling at his length and caressing his veiny shaft in wonder.

"Ooh... yeah..." Zip sighed. As the pretty shopgirl's fingers continued to caress and fondle his big penis with ever-growing enthusiasm, a big smile slowly spread across his lips. Closing his eyes, enjoying her embrace around him, he stretched his mind back and thought about how his weekend had gone...

~~~~~

After disposing of Mrs. Sablier, Zip had crashed into bed and not woken up until early Saturday afternoon. Molly was with her family at their vacation house for the weekend, and he knew he needed to give Mrs. Sablier some time of her own to allay suspicions, so Zip had the rest of the weekend to himself.

His balls still thoroughly drained and his body exhausted by his long educational experience with his busty teacher, he spent what was left of Saturday indoors, lost in some light coding. While hardly a high-level programmer, he had picked up enough scripting to be dangerous. He made a look-up table of the data on his fellow students, allowing him to find out the menstrual status of any girl in his school, and put it on his phone for future use. He also wrote a script that automatically made seating charts by putting himself in a random seat, ranking girls in order of how close they were to ovulation, and then filling in random seats in order always filling the seat closest to himself. Each chart appeared random, but always had the horniest girls squeezed right up next to him, and the menstruating or PMS-ing ones as far away as possible. He could go back and edit them if he saw a need, but it was a serviceable start, and by the time he finished late on Saturday night he had a folder with the entire year laid out pre-made and waiting on Mrs. Sablier's school account.

As he worked the little black thong Mrs. Sablier had taken off just before she left lay in a little dainty heap on his desk beside him. Occasionally, while taking a break, he turned and played with it idly, testing out his powers. He made her panties zip back and forth around the room, seeing how fast he could make them go. He practiced using them to pick up or move objects. To start out with he had to imitate with his hand what he wanted to do, but after some practice while still helpful this was no longer necessary. At the end he was able to sit back and have Mrs. Sablier's panties turn the pages of an old Victoria's Secret catalog for him - which, he was amused to note, had the identical pair on page twelve, worn upon a svelte model's body - without lifting a finger.

This inspired him to turn away from the computer, and try to do some actually intensive tests with his new powers.

Zip now had a fairly extensive set of Denise's clothes: one blouse, one skirt, one bra, and two pairs of panties. So, with his five 'servants' laid out, Zip set up a set of tests.

For strength, he put out a series of objects with convenient handles: from an empty lunchbox up through an empty video camera to a fully loaded one, to a tripod with a carrying handle, to a backpack stuffed with every book he could cram inside.

For endurance, he had each hold the heaviest object it could lift as long as it could.

For finesse, he laid out a paper and pencil, to attempt to write his name and draw a simple picture.

For speed, he got out the stopwatch on his phone, and sent them on a race.

The results surprised him. All of them showed significant differences between all tests, and in the same direction. The strongest also gave him the most control with the pencil, and also came in first in the 'race', and vice versa.

But the order was not quite what he expected. The big loser was the blouse: it could barely lift even an empty lunch-bag, had difficulty even lifting and wrapping the pencil to write, and came in dead last in the race.

Next up in order in all tests was the skirt. Then her bra, which surprised him; he had thought the huge cups would slow it down, but it seemed to have enough force to make up for that, and the tiny straps proved quite dexterous. Finally, at the top in all categories, were the panties.

Zip was puzzled for a moment; he had expected the blouse to be strongest at least, since it was biggest. Then, a theory crystallized.

"Aha," he said. "My powers derive from lust," he said. Zip had enough introspection, combined with Mrs. Sablier's lecture, to have worked that much out about himself. "So my control is stronger, the more I associate a garment with sex."

Thus, outer garments were weaker than undergarments. A short skirt was quite a bit better than a big long-sleeved blouse. And Zip had always had a particular fetish for and fixation on panties; so it was no real surprise they came out cleanly ahead.

"Probably the same reason I can't affect men's clothing," he said. "I never really gave the tiniest thought to being able to strip dudes, after all."

But even within the so-far established framework there was an additional wrinkle. While the panties had come out cleanly ahead in all metrics as a group, they were not equal. The purple thong Denise had worn right up until he lost his virginity to her came well behind the black one she had worn in for their training. 'Writing' with the black one proved as neat and fast as if he were doing it with his own hand; the purple one made it look like he was in preschool. The black one could lift basically anything he could, possibly more; the purple one lifted everything else with ease but struggled with the backpack until he allowed it to back off, afraid it might rip.

Just to confirm, Zip had the two pairs dance in front of him on his bed, for his amusement. Once again there was a clear difference. While the purple one did its best, the black one seemed quite a bit more agile and, maybe it was his imagination... enthusiastic. As he watched he examined them. They were not identical - but the differences were slight. One was not significantly larger or less skimpy than the other. He would rate them each about 'equal' in his desire to see them back upon her buxom hips once more; or being tugged down off them a second time just prior to sex.

Finally, he hit upon a theory.

"This one has been off her body for almost forty-eight hours now," he thought aloud - reaching out to stroke the purple thong as if it were a pet. It nuzzled back against him, as if playing the part. "This one was on her just a few hours ago..." he said, stroking the black one. "So... the more recently they came off... the stronger I am with them?"

He wondered if the same principle applied to the other garments. It seemed reasonable, though he didn't have any duplicates to test with just yet.

"So to summarize," he thought aloud, still watching her underwear dance. He had had her bra join in by now, just for fun. "In terms of general telekinesis, I have by far my greatest strength with pairs of womens' panties... and if I want to stay at maximum 'readiness', I'm going to need to get new ones, fresh from a hot living 'source', as early and often as possible..."

He pondered the strategic implications of this for a few seconds, and his dick twitched in his pants. Then, deciding he had wasted enough time watching underwear pirouette for him, he filed the theory away for more extensive repeat testing later, and moved on.

Having done all his tests one by one (save for the race), he then tried them again all at once - to test his collective control.

He found that strength was virtually unaffected. But finesse was much harder, the more he did at once. Which made sense - it was much harder to track in his head what he wanted them to do.

Then, he decided to move onto his 'other' power. He had recovered enough by now - and had more than enough fresh porn of Denise herself to work with - that he could easily get hard again. So, he did so - and then started to experiment with his cock.

He had already discovered earlier - worried that his sudden change would be noticed in gym class - that he could shrink back down if he wanted. Just thinking 'I kind of wish I was normal again' had made it so.

But now, he tried testing his limits.

Just like in the classroom, when he wanted to be big, he grew. With a thought, his one-time average erection swelled up until it was once more the gigantic behemoth - just slightly larger, in every dimension, than the biggest he had ever seen in porn - that had brought Denise to her knees.

He wandered where the material was coming from - then he looked down further, and saw.

Zip looked slim enough if you saw him in a T-shirt and jeans - but he was in reality 'skinnyfat' and once he took off his shirt and pants there was an obvious layer of blubber along his belly and on his thighs. But as he grew his cock, these just... disappeared. The result was not going to win him any bodybuilding competitions, but might have well passed as a Calvin Klein model... if they didn't mind having a gigantic bulge in the front of his tighty whities.

"Huh... I have abs now," Zip said, staring down. He was going to have to wear the baggiest gym clothes possible from now on, to make sure a girl didn't see him in both states and start asking questions... but overall that was a trade he could live with.

Then, he tried getting fancier. He tried making his dick even bigger.. and found he could. But soon enough he found himself starting to get light headed, and realized there might be consequences for diverting that much blood away from his brain. The results didn't look super practical in any case - it wasn't much good having a dick so big it literally couldn't fit in a girl.

"Guess I'm going to have to settle for 'biggest human penis on the planet' instead of 'makes elephants feel inadequate'" Zip said aloud, marveling at his new endowment. He shrugged, and smirked. "Oh well, what a shame!"

Then, having found his upper total bound, he tried shifting within that. Without hitting his blood-in-the-brain barrier, he found he could get thicker if he got shorter, or longer if he got thinner. If he got back down to his normal girth, he could have a pinocchio-like dick that reached literally past his knees.

"Not sure if these are at all practical," he said, staring.

The one limit, going the other way, was that he could not get any smaller than he had started. When trying to lengthen himself, he found he could not make himself any thinner than what he had been 'born with', and the same with making himself shorter.

"That tracks too," he thought aloud, as he shifted his cock around like he was playing with sliders in a video game. "I never fantasized about having a smaller cock, after all." That wasn't entirely a joke - he knew there were some dudes out there who got off on the idea of being humiliated over the size of their dicks; probably some overlap with the ones who dreamed of gigantic women crushing them under their feet. But Zip, who got more than enough humiliation naturally and had zero need to fantasize about getting more, had never remotely been one of them.

Finally, he tried moving it, like he had within Denise the night before. He watched as it tilted up and down, side to side. It was not exactly prehensile - he couldn't push it past the point of what was recognizably 'a penis' to him, could not, say, coil it all the way around to pick something up. But still, he had a lot of options. 'I'll have to be subtle if I don't want her to freak out,' he thought, 'but doing this inside a girl might yield some interesting results...'

Although he had enough energy to get erect, such was the drained state of his scrotum that it was only at the very tail end of the day, before bed, that he actually got the urge to masturbate. When he did so, he decided to try it a new way. He summoned the little black panty back over and sent it onto his cock. He sighed as her lace wrapped around him. It was awkward at first. But he got better.

"If I kept a pair inside my shorts, I could jerk myself off whenever I wanted..." he thought, as he stroked her lace front up and down himself. "But then, I would probably never do anything else..."

He eventually erupted, cleaned up, and went to sleep.

Early the next morning, his mom stuck her head in the door and asked if he wanted to go to church. She made an extra comment, asking if he might 'have some new sins to atone for.' Zip was still groggy enough, he didn't take particular note of the comment, nor detect the gloating tone in her voice.

"I'll go next week," he muttered back up to her, still in bed.

He didn't go very often, but he did try to put in an appearance every month or two. Mostly to maintain his status as its de facto AV-tech support guy - so that nobody ever did an inventory of the supply closet, and asked where half the (many, donated) cameras had gone to. As the one who was in charge of them he had marked them as 'out for service'... but had neglected to record that the 'service location' was his basement and that they had been there for over a year.

Still standing up at the top of the stairs, his mother chuckled.

"That's fair," she purred down to him. "You do probably need some rest..." Then she closed the door and left. Still not having picked up on her tone, Zip rolled over, yawned, and buried his face in his pillow.

But, she had woken him up just enough that he was not going to get back to sleep. Which was good, because he did have big plans for the day. But first, he pulled out his phone, and checked it. His eyes widened as he saw a new email in his inbox... from Mrs. Sablier. He opened it and scrolled... and scrolled, and scrolled, and scrolled.

It was so long, the beauty must have spent virtually the entire day composing it. Much of it was spent trying to convince him that he should show her mercy, and release her from his control. She poured her heart out to him, pleaded with him, apologized to him, argued with him with every scrap of rationality her brain possessed. He rolled his eyes, and mostly skipped those sections.

She also talked, at length, about the sex they had had. He read this with slightly more interest. She seemed to mostly be at great pains to convince that it was not simply the size of his penis that had caused her to orgasm, that size really did not matter as much as he thought, that it was a special emotional state on her part that had made her so vulnerable, that other women would not be so interested, that he should not assume that his classmates would be conquered so easily as she had been... and so on, and so on, and so on.

In the penultimate section she really let him have it. She appealed to his morals, to his decency, to his principles. She called upon him as his teacher, as a devoted wife, as a daughter. Pled in every way for him to voluntarily release her from her servitude.

Zip mostly skipped those sections too. Then, seeing he had other new alerts, he went back to his notification screen.

The email had been sent at 11:58 AM. At 11:59 he had a text. It showed Mrs. Denise Sablier sitting at the desk of her home office. Her laptop was in front of her. She was wearing a pair of black panties, a white T-shirt, and nothing else. With one hand she was peeling up the left hip-strap of her panties, while her other hand rested on the keys.

In the background, out of focus, he could just barely see what appeared to be a male form. Presumably, Mrs. Sablier's husband. He seemed completely oblivious to what his wife was doing.