ZIP UNZIPS
Episode One of The Zip Files: the Saga of a Lesser Supervillain
Recap in Italics; skip if you don't need it:
Zachary Zilch is the biggest loser in the wealthy San Cajetan Senior Senior High School. He has earned the nickname 'Zip the Unzipper' for the numerous times he has had to hastily zip back up his fly, having been almost caught masturbating. Every day his last class is AP Senior Biology, also known collectively around school as 'the Joke Class' - because it consists of twenty-nine of the hottest and most popular girls in school, and the one boy who has zero chance to capitalize on such a situation - Zip. To complete the 'joke', the teacher is the busty ball-breaker, and former model, Mrs. Denise Sablier. After forcing Zip to publicly apologize for tardiness, Mrs. Sablier opens her lesson on genetics by discussing so-called super-mutations, informing the class that they normally emerge around puberty, and while clearly genetically based, seem to manifest based on the deepest desires and obsessions of the carrier.
She then has the girls go around the class, each stating what they think their power would be. During this, Zip zones out - and becomes fixated on the top button of his teacher's dress, whose clasped state prevents him from getting a direct look at her enormous hooters. Then, to his astonishment and delight, it slides open, and her neckline flops apart - exposing the top of her deep cleavage. Unfortunately, this distracts him enough that he does not realize she has just called on him. Irritated at having caught him staring at her breasts, Denise allows the girls to propose a series of demeaning super-mutant identities for Zip, before calling the class to order. But she seems to remain oblivious of her unbuttoned button, allowing Zip to continue to enjoy the jiggling of her big cans throughout the remainder of her lesson. Our story now continues...
Note: no characters appearing in this text are under the age of eighteen. All high-school students depicted are seniors and are of legal age.
That night Zip didn't have much homework and what he had he finished quickly. Then, seeing that his mom was on her second bottle, he shut himself up in his room and spent the rest of the night edging.
He tracked down a torrent of the full video of the girl who looked just like Stacy Sussex, and watched it several times - focusing in particular at the beginning, where she pulled down her panties, and the end, where she screamed and shook helplessly upon her well-hung partner's cock. He stopped to send a link to Molly, as she had requested - and then got back to it. He interspersed several other clips with some candid footage he had taken of some of his hotter classmates, stripping out of their clothes to reveal bikinis at the pool, or bending over low at the beach so he could see their mounds peeking through their thighs.
They say man is a product of his environment. Zip was absolutely a product of his. After his father had died - which had happened early enough that Zip had no memories of him - Zip's mother had taken a hard turn towards religion. While she had eventually mellowed a bit as she found a new succor in the bottle, during his first phases of puberty all 'smut' had been banned from their house - meaning that his earliest experiences in jerking off had been to pictures of underwear and bikini models in what catalogs and magazines he could scavenge. Already an outcast due to his class, he did not have much confidence about approaching his female peers directly... and the mockery piled on him by male and female classmates alike after the few times he had worked up the courage to try had done nothing but reinforce this.
So instead he had fallen back on masturbation. Lots and lots and LOTS of masturbation. He had masturbated in the bathroom, and in the woods. He had masturbated in the pool and in the back of the bus. Since he was a dumb kid, he had been caught repeatedly - hence his nickname.
Due to his limited available material, well into full adolescence the mental image of clothing, particularly skimpy bikinis or bras or panties, coming off his female classmates' bodies was still a core part of his self-pleasuring experience.
Eventually he had managed to finagle unfettered internet access, which had broken this a bit - but mostly only overlaid it with stock pornographic tropes and stereotypes. He watched videos of dudes with monster cocks plowing their way through one girl after another without rest and, even though he knew deep down that was all done in editing, fantasized of doing the same within his curvaceous classmates.
He want down dives into more esoteric genres besides. He watched cucking videos, where guys got tricked - via bets or dares other transparent pretexts - to let some other dude take a crack at their girlfriends; only to be left a shattered whimpering wreck when that dude proved himself to be far more of a man than they. He watched pickup-themed clips, where ladies on the streets got talked into sex in fifteen minutes flat, and left with their unprotected pussies filled and dripping with cum. He watched interracial conversion videos, where girls went in on one side claiming to despise everything their impending partner stood for and to be only doing it for the money, and came out the other practically begging to be his slave. And he knew, deep down, that that was all fake too - paid actors, the flimsiest of scripts, often made obvious by the most wooden performances imaginable. But that didn't matter. Those fantasies seeped into his head as well, merging into the swirling melange of unfulfilled lusts that regularly infected his dreams.
Thus for years, Zip had spent an enormous amount of time with his head lost in visions of what he wanted more than anything else on Earth. And as he masturbated, the same phrases repeated themselves over and over again, like mantras, in his head or on his lips, spoken out into the universe itself, again and again. He repeated them now, over and over in succession, like a preacher nailing the main points of his sermon time and again just to make sure his congregation 'got it'.
"Not too much for you, is it?" he asked, as he imagined the average-sized erection he was stroking was the sort of pussy-crushing monsters he saw in his videos; and envisioned the jaw of one pretty girl after another dropping in disbelief at the sight.
"Panties... down!" he growled, as he imagined one shapely beauty after another gasping before him in their underwear... and then immediately bending low and stripping naked just for him.
"Yeah, you love that don't you?!" he enthused, as he imagined one curvy classmate after another, in his arms, shivering and squealing in devastated awe, as each was stunned to find Zip the Unzipper fucking her ten times better than her boyfriend ever could.
He edged on and on into the night, until finally he came. But such was his young libido that he was soon at it again, and then again. He repeated the same words over and over into the night... until at last he fell asleep, after wiping up his last almost painfully dry discharge... and they continued to repeat on into his dreams.
Zip stayed up so late jerking off, he rolled into school the next morning with bags under his eyes. In his first class, AP World History, his eyes drifted shut repeatedly. He thought it had gone under the radar, but apparently it had not, for as he started to pack up the teacher approached.
"Could I have a word with you real quick, Zack?" she asked him.
'Oh fuck...' he thought; as the rest of the students filed out behind him.
But as he took a closer look, she didn't seem upset. And there were compensations for being held up after class by this particular teacher: she was just about the only one in school who could possibly make Denise Sablier jealous.
Zip didn't know her actual age, but he would guess late twenties - and only added the 'late' qualifier because of the framed PhD diploma on the wall near her desk. She didn't look a day over twenty-one. She didn't quite have Denise's insane figure, but made up for it by being drop-dead gorgeous, with dark red hair spilling down her back, combined with skin that seemed to naturally look the same shade as burnished bronze. Today she wore a suit of pure white, with a short skirt and a tight blazer.
"Is everything alright, Zack?" she asked, once he stood before her at the front of the class, near her desk. "I couldn't help but notice you kept nodding off."
Zip shook his head. "I'm sorry, Doctor Creed," he told her.
"I told you all, call me Cassie," she reminded him. "There's no need for the 'Doctor' either, I don't care about titles. I'm not insulted if you find the material boring."