Timestopper Begins Ch. 02

Chapter 2 -- Mastering time: the dawn of a super hero

The alarm ringing by my bed brought me back from a confused dream world. A world of violent storm, lightning, car headlights and fear.

I am not the fastest in the morning; not for me the leap from the bed with a song in my heart and the anticipation of a bright new day; no not that; more a groan and a wish to continue my sleep. As I had done on so many mornings I willed the clock to stop its incessant ringing and just let me go back to blissful sleep. The fact it instantly stopped but so also did the birdsong and traffic noise was, unsurprisingly, not at all conducive to dropping gently and easily back into a peaceful, dreamless sleep: on the contrary I sat bolt upright wider awake than I normally am even at midday. I had done it again - I had stopped time.

Standing in the window, I looked out on a silent and motionless world. It is difficult to conceive of utter silence until you have experienced it. Even underground, in a cave or mine, you are more than likely going to hear the drip, drip, drip of water, the little plinking sound of water in a pool, but there was nothing making the slightest sound except me - and my accelerated heartbeat actually did sound quite loud.

I was not at all sure how I had done it, how I had stopped time. Certainly I had little doubt it was me who had done it - I could very much recall my desire for the alarm to stop -- and stop it had. Slowly I descended the stairs and walked out into the street. There people were, halted in the act of walking along the pavement, people in strangely motionless cars, people on the other side of the road going nowhere in a hurry, birds suspended in the sky, even a cat frozen in the act of leaping off a fence. It was utterly strange.

Why the cat should have drawn me to it, first of all, was not clear; perhaps it was because it was not a person and I felt more comfortable. It was clear, crystal clear, why it was leaping or, to be more accurate, pouncing - there was a mouse there in the grass right below it. I bent and picked up the mouse. It too was frozen in time, completely unaware of me - or more importantly the cat about to descend to torment and end its little existence. It was like a child's toy, a beautifully detailed toy, a lovely little miniature furry thing. It seemed such a shame to have it broken (= killed) by the cat and so I placed it down in a different place and for good measure pushed the cat along a bit. There the cat was; suspended in the air and with a little push I just moved it a yard to the left. The cat did not fall to the ground, it just moved where I had pushed it. It was all very puzzling. Time had stopped but I could move things around as I wished. My actions had effect but everything else had ceased.

It was strange walking along the pavement with people frozen at the very moment my alarm had stopped its ringing. A little girl skipping with her mother suspended in the air; people in positions they simply could not have maintained if time was moving because they would have fallen over; people with odd expressions on their faces caught between one facial expression and another like photographs you would throw away or delete.

And there was I, walking between them in my pyjamas, the only moving thing I could see. 'The only living boy in New York' - except it was New Malden. What was happening to me?

A pretty girl hurrying, perhaps to work, caught my attention. You know how an eye can be caught by a pretty girl. But there was no need for the furtive, quick glance at face or bosom. There she was, frozen in time - and a very nice sight the cleavage in her shirt made in the morning sun. No need to observe from yards away: I could and did lean in close and look down between her breasts. And just like the little mouse or the suspended cat I could so easily have touched and moved. It was all very odd and disturbing.

My fascination, like the night before, turned to worry. It was one thing to have stopped time but how did I start it again? I was not awfully keen on that happening out in the street with just my pyjamas on. Not only would it look a little odd at rush hour, it could look an awful lot worse as I had become aware, you know how pyjamas are, that I was poking out of the fly. It was, of course, the pretty girl's fault having such an attractive cleavage: certainly that had something to do with what my mind had been thinking... Nonetheless there I was in the middle of the street with an erection on display!

I stuffed the item back inside double quick but even so for a moment or two - because the fright soon lessened the tumescence - what I had inside my pyjamas was still rather obvious pushing against the material and that was not the moment I wanted time to restart.

Back in the safety of my house I had the greatest desire to be a time starter but would it start? No! I stood looking out of my bedroom window willing people to start moving, I tried holding my breath like trying to stop the hiccups, shutting my eyes, frowning in concentration but eventually went to eat my breakfast and even after that - and discovering that whilst I could cut a loaf of bread with a knife the toaster simply would not do any toasting - the people and the pretty girl were just where I had left them. How had I done it the night before?

It had just happened. I had wanted to ask the couple a question about what they were pointing at, and time had just restarted; the second time I had stepped back from near certain death and time had restarted. There seemed no connection. I looked around me,

"Go on start," I said breaking the complete silence. Time did not seem to be listening.

The morning passed and I was well into the afternoon. Well, I say the morning passed but of course it was still morning and it was not yet afternoon at all. The sun had not swung across the heavens, the people had not moved or got to work, nobody had had lunch yet - except me - and my watch had not moved one second. I was getting desperate. It was just too quiet and whilst I knew there would always be plenty to eat I did not want to be stuck in my 'Groundhog Day' or rather 'Groundhog Second.'

I had even bothered to get dressed; not that anyone could see me or see what I was wearing. I could have wandered about in my pyjamas or indeed nothing at all and no one would have taken a blind bit of notice.

The frozen time period was so much longer than the night before. There had to be a way - there obviously was a way of restarting time. It had happened yesterday, twice!

My mind returned, as male minds will to the girl's cleavage outside. Whilst I was waiting for time to restart why did I not take another look?

Dark haired, round face with wide open eyes and parted lips. She was hurrying to work I judged. Had been for quite a time from my perspective. Crisp white shirt with the top buttons undone revealing the aforementioned cleavage. I came right up to her and looked down into the valley once again. Very nice.

Stepping back I admired her legs clad in black nylon under a dark blue skirt, nicely belted at her waist. Trainers not high heels but she had those in a bag to put on later - I looked! I circled her. She was like a mannequin all dressed up in a shop window. Only she was warm when I touched her. Yes I risked two fingers in that cleavage. Naughty I know. Quite immoral, I appreciate, but she did not move an inch, did not react. She did not know and that lead me to undo a button, just the one: well, just the one before I undid another one! A pretty little white bra, all lacy and feminine. I imagined her putting that on in the morning, slipping the straps over her shoulders, the cups over her breasts and reaching behind to do up the strap. Had she been alone then or had a boyfriend watched appreciatively from the bed? Had they been making early morning love and she had come out in the street freshly showered? A shower to wash the residue of sexual fluids from her making her all ready for the working day.

Thought of restarting time seemed to have left my head for a moment as I wondered just what those breasts looked like, what had her imagined boyfriend seen, had he chewed on her nipples only minutes before? OK, seemingly hours for me.

Another button or two and a soft mounded tummy came into view. Of course I was hard in my trousers. I was doing something incredibly naughty and sexual. Did I dare, did I dare undo the bra strap and take a peek?

My mannequin was not moving even when I stroked her tummy. Right below her tummy button were very fine little dark hairs. I could really imagine where they led! What was she like down there? A full bush or rather sparse? Trimmed or even shaved? It occurred to me I could probably slip my hand between skirt and skin and find out. I think I started to sweat. This time stop thing was quite amazing and terribly immoral or at least potentially so!

I did undo the bra. I knew I should not do that but it was so very easy to succumb to temptation. A quick feel around her back and under her shirt and job done. All I had to do was lift the bra and there would be her breasts for me to see. Two soft mounds of delightful soft flesh. Did I lift - well of course I did!

The bra was warm and soft - and so were her breasts. They were lovely - I just stared and stared. Not a hint of sag, of course, with perky upturned nipples in brown areolae with all the usual little bumps around them - I was getting a very close look after all - but what surprised me, and I had not been expecting that, was her right nipple pierced with a gold ring through it. It seemed to me an odd thing to do. Not really a useful place to hang the car or house keys. It suggested, though, sexual experience and so the imagined boyfriend was probably real.

Did I touch? Of course I did. The regulation handfuls, the stroking of nipples and an attempt at bouncing them up and down - only they would not bounce. If I lifted them up they stayed lifted - clearly a product of the strange stopping of time.

I resisted the temptation to delve deeper - yes I do mean into her panties - after all I had no idea when or if time might restart and the potential for more than embarrassment was pretty plain! I slipped the cups back over her breasts. Re-tying the bra strap seemed a bit too much bother and if I was lucky I might - if time restarted - catch a glimpse of her boobs bouncing unrestrained. I did the buttons of her shirt up and stepped back feeling very relieved I had done all that with time staying stopped.

"Phew!" I went and time restarted. Yes, just like that! She did a double take at me - to her I had suddenly appeared out of nowhere but I was quick enough to glance at her cleavage and see it heave up and down before she walked past me. A very nice bounce. How good it would be to see her walking around without clothes on at all! And not only had I glimpsed her bouncing boobs but, really rather more importantly, time had restarted - I was back in the land of the moving - but how had I done it? What had happened? I needed to get this under control.

She was not the only person who stared at me. Several others were looking very puzzled. Clearly it was not a good idea to be unexpectedly in a public place when time restarted.

Time had only restarted when I had relaxed and stopped thinking about it. When I had instead been thinking about the girl. Was the trick relaxation?

Over the next few days I practised. Stopping time seemed to come so easily, a mere matter of will: restarting was another matter - I had to get in the right frame of mind and relax. Gradually I got better.

It was quite a gift, quite a power to possess. It did not seem to be running out on me. I found I could soon stop and start time at will. Just like that. I had read enough comics to know what I had was a super power. I was like the Flash or Spider Man or the Torch.

But what to call myself? Time Man? Time Stop Man? Time Halter Man? The Chronos? The Timer? Mr Freeze-frame (I think that's sort of been done)? They all seemed a bit too comic book so instead I chose 'Temporal Man of Power' as quite different from the comic books heroes and having a bit more mystery than Power Man of Time. Yes, I even had TMP blazoned on the chest inside a silver clock face in a rather nice swirly gothic script. Yes I made myself a super-hero costume! Not at all easy for me - I am hardly a seamstress or any kind of -ess actually - but somehow with a lot of research, effort, fresh starts and help from a local tailor I had the suit.

Spectacular and very much the thing. Thigh length green boots, yellow thick tights, green underpants (briefs without the hole - I mean I did not want to look a right plonker with a set of green Y fronts), yellow tee shirt with the silver 'TMP' time clock badge, short practical green cloak (with pouch for sandwiches), green eye mask, green gauntlets and yellow baseball hat (to keep the sun out of my eyes and also the rain on those inclement days of superheroing. This was, after all, South London not Metropolis). I sort of thought the baseball hat gave a modern twist to the traditional super hero costume.

Is it a bird, is it a plane? No it's Temporal Man of Power (said in a deep, sonorous voice).

Standing in front of the mirror I was certainly a sight. No one was going to miss me when I popped up out of nowhere having saved the day. I still have the photographs, not least of me giving the big thumbs up with one of my gauntlets. A photograph all ready to be 'leaked' to the newspapers. Of course in retrospect, and given what TS has come to mean for me, I should have kept the Y fronts. That little hole would actually have been the most useful part of the costume; and I don't just mean to pee through -- though actually, let's be practical, can you imagine the embarrassment of standing at the stalls in all that get up with your tights and holeless green briefs pulled down to your knees taking a sparkle?

"Nice arse, Temporal Man of Power."

It was jolly hot with normal clothes on over my costume that sunny day when first I went 'on patrol' and when it became increasingly obvious I did not really need a costume. Not only did I not find anyone to save or help but it was rather obvious that, with time stopped, I did not need a to keep my identity secret and wear a costume - I could have gone about the saving just as well with my normal clothes on or indeed nothing on at all. It would only be if I hung around for thanks would I need to reveal myself clad in my bright impressive costume. No real super hero is in it for gratitude but rather is for doing the right thing and saving the world for democracy and the All American Dream (well, not in my case - more the South London dream really and I am not too sure what that is).

I trudged around the town feeling hotter and hotter but there was nobody I could see who needed the help of Temporal Man of Power. I even stopped time and took my outer clothes off in a 'phone box; more to cool down than anything else. Running along the high street past and around frozen people with my cloak flapping behind me seemed good practice for my new role and certainly felt impressive but it soon occurred to me that running would never be needed for Temporal Man of Power as he had all the time he needed to get to any incident. Yes, I could walk.

Like Batman - well not like Batman as I used a ladder - I sat atop a building looking out over the bustling town like the Caped Crusader standing watch over Gotham City and finally I saw a job for Temporal Man of Power: some bastard was walking off with the wallet I had left in the 'phone box with my clothes.

Stopping time, I climbed back down, almost falling off the ladder as my cloak got in the way, and walked calmly and rather impressively back to the 'phone box and the thief. It was easy to retrieve the wallet and easy to mete out punishment - I tied his shoelaces together! Standing in the shadows I restarted time and of course he fell over straight away. It was amusing -- yes, really funny! Stepping from the shadows I waggled a yellow gloved finger at him as he lay puzzled and hurt on the pavement.

"Don't steal!" said Temporal Man of Power and everyone around stopped and stared in wonder. "Crime does not pay!"

I said it rather well, though I say it myself, my words of warning and advice coming out in a deep and, I think, impressive voice. Words said before turning back into the shadows conscious of the admiring looks from the passers by and then I stopped time. I did not think New Malden was yet ready for Temporal Man of Power to just appear and disappear before their very eyes in the bright sunshine. A slipping away in the shadows seemed more the thing.

Retrieving my clothes and donning once more my secret identity I stepped from the 'phone box back into time to hear, "You all right, mate, nasty fall. Who was the prat in the costume?"

It seemed things were all wrong. Rather than the thief slinking off ashamed: he was being seen as the victim. It was a bit galling but, in time, people would come to thank Temporal Man of Power and be grateful he watched over their town and not the next one down the road.

Even so, I found no further employment that afternoon or the next day. I became a little more disillusioned and undoubtedly hot. Did Temporal Man of Power, let's call him TMP for short, really need to wear his costume under his clothes? Could he not carry them in a backpack and just wear shorts and a tee shirt? I decided he could and he did.

By the afternoon of patrolling the streets, and occasionally climbing up buildings for an overall view, I was very hot indeed to say nothing of thirsty. Even Temporal Man of Power needs to pop into a pub for a pint and a few moments off. Actually I was getting a bit brassed off with my complete lack of success in helping anybody. I was not in it for the gratitude or the kudos but I did not like wasting my time to no purpose.

It was funny, though, how my mind kept returning to the girl with the pleasing cleavage and the intriguing nipple ring. It was all very well super-heroing but it would actually be rather more fun to see more of her - yes I do mean more. It was partly the idea of hanging something from that nipple ring. Amusing to imagine her undressing for the night and finding an unexpected miniature Coca-Cola bottle or a lucky charm swinging from her ring. She fingering, then unclipping it and looking at it in puzzlement. What a wheeze - particularly if I was there to see it.

How easy would it be to get into her house or flat and hide? Whilst I had envisaged the power being used for serious and good purposes would it not be brilliant for hide-and-seek? Nobody would ever catch me because as soon as the person got close I could just stop time and move, perhaps to the place the person had just looked in! TMP could, moreover, use the ability for private investigation; seeking out identities, exploring without fear of discovery, checking through papers - real detective work.

Despite the further good role for TMP my thoughts still returned to the girl. In her flat or house I could be peeking through a crack in the door, in the next room, inside a cupboard or indeed just behind her. She would not see me but I would see her and the nipple ring. And if her boyfriend came round what sorts of things might I get to see then?

The thoughts of how I might see this girl were all much more interesting and entertaining than wandering the streets feeling very hot and trying to do good deeds -- but failing. And of course in bed at night my thoughts were very much more about girls than doing good deeds. Ideas began to form about what I could actually do about girls for real and not just in my head. Things I could do with time stopped; things which were rather more than the simple fondling of a pair of breasts; things which could be very enjoyable indeed.