It was an ordinary Tuesday morning, with commuters streaming through the park on their way to work. The main path linked a set of apartment buildings to the local underground station, so it was a popular route to take, with a diverse range of people represented in the crowd. If you wanted to grab someone from among them, you’d have your pick of pretty much every type of person - height, build, gender, wealth, ethnicity - name it, and eventually you’d find someone fitting that description. Which is exactly why an average man with a very unusual remote control was sitting on a bench not too far from the main path, watching the crowd walk by.

None of them paid him any mind. For a start he was, to the unassuming eye, average. Average build, height, and complexion, wearing ordinary casual clothes and sitting perfectly relaxed on the bench. He was middle-aged; perhaps, an uncharitable mind may think, too young not to be working, although more sympathetic onlookers could speculate on any number of reasons he might not be going to work right now. However, he wouldn’t attract any onlookers, even casual ones. People could see him, certainly, but no-one would think more than that there was someone on that bench, before their gaze drifted away and he faded from their thoughts. This was thanks to the bracelet he wore around his right wrist. It was a perfect circle, made of some silvery metal, and its function was to blot him out of the mind of anyone who perceived him. He would just blend into the background, become an unremarkable piece of the scenery. This was especially effective if he acted inconspicuously, but its power was far greater than that, allowing him to do, as far as he could tell, anything he wanted without attracting any curiosity from anyone whatsoever.

This was how he could afford not to work: money was of no concern to someone who could waltz into a shop and just take money from the registers or the cashiers’ hands; to someone who could grab your wallet from your pocket, take all your cash and cards, pose as you to a bank teller even if you looked nothing like him, and leave you completely unaware until you realised your account had dried up; to someone who could walk into a museum, pull jewellery right out of its cases, be ignored by all the guards even as alarms blared all around him, and then be seen as a completely reputable dealer with no red flags when he sold off the goods to private collections less than a week later. He’d only done that last one once, however, after realising that the bracelet didn’t affect technology: best to avoid security cameras, he’d reasoned, as he wasn’t sure if the effect would be transmitted through the screen. However, that was far from the only use he had for this bracelet. No, his favourite use for it… well, that was what he was here to do, along with the remote he held in that same hand. It appeared to be an ordinary TV remote. An unusually silvery one, perhaps, but most people who saw it would likely just shrug and say, “rich people,” and then move on. However, this remote had no effect on technology of any sort. Rather, it was a remote for people.

As he watched the commuters, he was scanning them, looking for someone whose looks he fancied. Most he dismissed without a second glance, making various derogatory comments about their appearances. Some merited closer attention, but he let them go, feeling as though he could do better. Eventually, he found someone.

She was a young woman, in her early twenties perhaps. She was wearing a black suit jacket over a white shirt, a black pencil skirt, stockings, and black shoes with short heels. Her wavy auburn hair was long, worn loose and swept over one shoulder. She also had a large brown satchel, through which she was currently rifling with a mild look of consternation on her face. She would be perfect.

The man lifted his remote, aiming it at the woman, who had slowed down to look more thoroughly in her bag. Taking care to ensure his thumb was correctly positioned, he pressed the Mute button on the remote. To his eyes, the air briefly shimmered around the woman, as though she were in a summer haze. The commuters surrounding her didn’t see this. They didn’t notice anything, in fact. The purpose of the Mute button was to render the young woman as unremarkable to their eyes as the man was. He himself was immune to this effect, naturally, and so could see the difference that the button press had caused, as commuters now flowed smoothly around her, faces set as though there was nothing in their way, as though they hadn’t needed to move for anything at all, because in their minds, they hadn’t. Next, however, came the fun part, as he moved his thumb to, and pressed, Pause.

The young woman immediately froze stock-still in the middle of the path, pedestrians and cyclists still flowing smoothly around her. Nobody stopped to check if she was alright, or wonder what had happened, or just gawp at this unusual sight, let alone ask him what he’d done to her. The man, however, could still perceive this new public statue just as well as ever, and he liked what he saw.

Standing up from the bench, he moved into the middle of the crowd, who parted around him just as they did for the woman. Reaching the statue, he could take the opportunity to examine her more closely. He liked what he saw, feeling he’d made the right choice in pausing her. She clearly took good care of herself - her hair, skin, and makeup were all flawless. The clothes and satchel were quality, without being ostentatiously fancy. Her expression was frozen in a cute little frown as she reached deeper into the satchel. He took a peek inside, musing to himself that maybe he could find what she was looking for, and saw her fingers brushing a phone. Presumably, that expression was about to change to one of relief or satisfaction. “Eh,” he muttered - to himself, of course, although he liked to pretend that his targets could hear him. “Ya look cuter a bit worried, I think.” Briefly, he considered taking more of a look in that bag, seeing if there was anything of any value in there that she wouldn’t immediately miss, but decided against it. For one, he wasn’t interested in learning her name, but he was plenty wealthy already. And besides, she would be giving him something more valuable today anyway.

Her arms were already conveniently bent in such a way that he could just grab her under the shoulders and pull her off the path, oblivious commuters making way for the pair. She was smaller than him, and so easy to drag back to his bench. Her heels left a slight trail in the grass as he brought them to their destination. Setting her upright, he brushed her hair from where it had fallen in front of her face and began to consider what to do. He could already feel his cock getting hard at the possibilities. He decided that he should probably examine the goods a bit better first.

Readjusting her arms above her head for easier access, he pulled the satchel off her shoulder and tossed it to the side, swiftly following it with her already unbuttoned suit jacket. The shirt took a bit more time as he took care of each button, paying more attention to this task than her body, but he knew he already liked the look of what he was seeing. He followed it with her skirt, pulling it off her ample hips and arse, and liked what he saw even more. Her tits, which were larger than they had seemed under her somewhat bulky clothing, were enclosed in a black, slightly gauzy bra, which positioned them in a way to present a generous amount of cleavage and allow him to see the outlines of her nipples beneath. What really grabbed his attention, however, was what she was wearing beneath. The garter belt holding up her stockings really accentuated her figure, drawing his eye up her thighs and to her panties - a similar black number, allowing him to vaguely see the outline of her cunt and bush through them. Around the back, the belt and panties similarly brought his attention to her gorgeous arse. The generous expanse of unclothed skin was also alluring, all just as flawless as that on her face. She had a trim figure, with curves all in the right place. “You are a catch, aren’t you?” he chuckled, cupping her chin to turn her head and make it appear she was looking at him, although her eyes were unfocused and her face still showed concentration and concern for her phone rather than anything else. He drew his thumb across her mouth, and decided this would be the perfect place to start.

He pushed down on her jaw to open it, her lips forming a perfect O. Coupled with her formerly concerned frown, it now made her look angry, an expression he didn’t entirely mind. Pulling her arms back to her side, he picked her up and laid her face-down on the ground before pulling on her shoulders to bring her into a kneeling position. A few minor adjustments for stability later, he had her kneeling in the perfect spot in front of the bench, mouth ready for the taking. He was now fully erect, and so groaned with relief as he unzipped his fly and pulled his pants and underwear to his ankles, letting his cock spring out right in front of her eyes. Sitting down on the bench, he grabbed a fistfull of auburn hair and pulled the woman’s face towards his crotch, groaning again as his cock fit perfectly between those rounded lips and across her saliva-coated tongue. With no need to adjust her to the feel, he began to thrust rapidly into her mouth and down her throat, gasping and cursing full-throatedly as he looked over at the crowd of commuters. This was honestly the best part of it all, and the main reason he looked for conquests in this park, even beyond the variety of options he had: the complete brazenness of this act, how people’s eyes could land directly on him, could see exactly how he was violating this stranger, and not care in the slightest. Once or twice, he’d even imagined what might happen if the bracelet or remote stopped working; how people might react to realising what was going on right in front of their oblivious faces. The city was crazy enough that honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if their reaction was much the same, beyond perhaps one or two people filming them. But most of the time, he preferred it this way: just himself and a frozen hottie, having their private moment while simultaneously completely exposed.

His climax came upon him suddenly, and he grunted as he spilled hot jets of cum into the woman’s mouth and across her face. She took it all completely impassively, allowing what went inside her to just slide down her throat, not even blinking when it got across her eyes. He chuckled to himself at the sight, this impeccably-kept woman now covered in his load. “What would you think if I unpaused you now, hm? I bet you’d be a real stuck-up bitch about it,” he told her. “But don’t worry - we’re far from done here.”

Since he’d taken off her shirt, he’d found it practically impossible to take his eyes off those tits of hers, and decided now would be the perfect time to get a better view while he was trying to get hard again. He considered removing it from her conventionally, but instead decided to take a quicker path, fumbling in his dropped pants for a pocket knife and quickly cutting through the straps, yanking the tattered fabric off her shoulders and letting her tits fall free. They were just as incredible naked as cooped up, and his hands immediately shot to them, squishing into the soft flesh and toying with the nipples. They hardened at his touch as he took one into his mouth, a fact he still didn’t quite understand. The remote, as far as he could tell, worked how he thought it should. He’d originally used Mute to literally turn people’s volume down, and only later had made the mental leap to using it to make others completely ignore them. Similarly, anyone he used Pause on would completely mentally freeze, but physically, it was more a matter of scale. Their bodies became immoveable (and he meant completely immoveable: he’d once left someone Paused and Muted on a crossing and seen them hit by a car; the car had come out of it far worse than the person, who was completely unscratched), unless he wanted to move them, in which case they were like putty to his touch. They didn’t blink, but they did breathe very slowly, probably because he’d find it too creepy if they didn’t. Logically, they also shouldn’t produce body heat, but they did, likely for the same reason. And, most fortuitously (otherwise this exercise would have been much less fun), they still became aroused at his touch.

Speaking of arousal, he was hard again and raring to go. Tilting the woman back to a prone position, he rolled her over and knelt over her stomach. Dipping his fingers into her mouth, he coated them in a generous amount of saliva - another reflex his targets had all kept - and roughly lubed himself up before sliding himself between her tits, pulling them up to wrap around him. They felt even better around his cock than they had in his hands, and once again he began to fuck her hard, pushing her hairdo against the grass with every stroke. Grabbing her hands, he got her to hold her tits in place instead, allowing him to stimulate himself further with one hand and push a thumb into her mouth with the other, reveling in the amount of control he had over this stranger. The way he’d moved her, he was now looking directly at the commuters, some of whom occasionally made eye contact with him and waved politely, a gesture he returned, even as he sat fucking this woman’s tits wearing only a shirt. He was soon climaxing again, spraying cum over her chest and chin. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Up for one more round?” He grabbed her hair and pulled her head in a clumsy nod. “‘Course you are,” he grinned.

Clambering up, he pulled the woman to her feet, then dragged her around to the back of the bench, getting her nice heels coated in dirt and foliage. Pushing her so she was bent over the bench, he moved her arms to grab it, unclasping her ruined bra now he had access to it and letting it fall beneath her. He thought the stockings and garter were hot enough to keep, necessitating the use of the knife once more to divest her of her panties, leaving her already dampened cunt nicely framed by the straps. Speaking of hot, he was starting to become too warm, and so divested himself of his shirt before continuing. He gave her arse a couple of quick spanks, admiring how it jiggled, in an effort to warm himself up again. Fondling her now dangling tits seemed to do the trick, and soon he was pushing himself between her slick folds with ease. Grabbing her chin again as he fucked into her, he pulled on her mouth. “Smile for the audience,” he whispered into her ear, pulling on her eyelids as well to make her look less upset. He couldn’t fully see the result, but with the way the remote worked, he knew she’d now be looking ecstatic to be publicly used in this way. He got rougher: spanking her arse, pinching her tits, yanking at her hair, and slamming into her cunt so that it too would surely look red and raw, and then released into her one last time. He felt her body squirting against him as well, prompting another deep chuckle from him. “Glad you liked it,” he told her as he slumped over her back.

Eventually, he moved again, pulling his spent cock out of her cunt and watching his cum trickle down her thighs. He’d been right: he’d gone hard on her, and she’d surely be feeling it as soon as he let her go - were it not for the cleanup he could do. Pulling his clothes back on, he aimed the remote at her and hit Rewind. Her body began shuddering unnaturally, re-enacting everything that he’d done to her, in reverse and at double speed. Cum vanished from her thighs, the redness on her arse and tits faded away, and then her panties mended themselves and floated back up onto her body, followed by the still-torn bra. As the remote continued to undo everything he’d done to her, he got to admire her from new angles as she floated back to the ground and clasped her jiggling tits, more cum vanishing and her bra mending. She floated into a kneeling position, then closed her mouth. Her clothes and satchel flew back onto her, and finally, she was standing back in the path, a new set of commuters now obliviously flowing around her, looking concerned as she tried to locate her phone. The man smiled and, aiming the remote for the last time, hit Fast-Forward. The woman shot down the path, grabbing her phone triumphantly from the satchel and fiddling with it as she vanished into the distance. She was still muted, and would be until the Fast-Forward ended, which would be when she caught up to where she would have been if he’d never chosen her in the first place. From her perspective, nothing would have happened at all. Logically, there wasn’t much reason for him to do this - his bracelet and the Mute and Pause on her should be more than enough to protect him from any consequences, and if he’d been in a different mood, maybe he would have wanted to see how she’d react to waking up covered in cum. But this way was, he had to admit, neater for everyone involved.

Sighing happily to himself as he sat back down at the bench, he contemplated what to do next. The day was still young, after all, and there were plenty more beauties in this city. Thinking about it, he’d always wanted to see how it would feel to fuck a cashier while she was on duty, and there was that hot piece of arse who’d started at the nearby supermarket a few weeks ago…

Grinning to himself, he set off to make another conquest.