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"Hey, D-Man, got my manga?"
"Sure thing, Chad m'man," said my friend and chief comic supplier. "But if you ask me, you gotta stop just reading that Japanese shit. It's cool and all, but big spandex-covered boobies in four color print is why we all got into comics in the first place. Gotta stay true to your roots."
I chuckled as he handed me my preselected weekly fix from my slot behind the counter.
"I guess I've matured a bit now that I've got a real girl. Besides, I doubt Jeannie would sleep with me if I still had a half-naked poster of the She-Hulk on my wall."
My boyfriend-status was a comfortable topic of conversation with Daniel now. It hadn't been for a while there. It had nearly ruined our friendship and we had only seen each other occasionally for four years. A few month ago, though, I'd come in to D-Man's Comic Emporium and we'd buried the hatchet. Now I bought all my manga here and Daniel and I were renewing our friendship.
We had been tight since we were 12--the skinny comic geek and the portly comic geek, dreaming of super powers and loose women. Jeannie had changed that our sophomore year of college. Daniel was either unwilling to share me or unable to deal with the fact that I was getting laid while he wasn't. Whatever the reason, we parted company.
Jeannie didn't seem to bother him much now. My theory was that Daniel's jealousy had passed when he started getting laid himself. Daniel didn't have a steady girlfriend, but he now seemed to be going out with another girl every month. Bizarre, but true--my rotund, scruffy friend was a real ladies' man.
I guess it's true what they say: confidence makes a man attractive. Since he had inherited the money to buy this comic shop, he had become one of the most confident and content people I knew. He really had come into his own. It made a world of difference in his personality.
That and the beard he had been trying to grow since he was 16 had finally come in.
We talked comics and sci fi for a while. Jeannie was off at another biochemistry conference so I had nowhere I had to be. When I saw it was near closing time, though, I started to say goodbye; I didn't want to keep him if he had places to go.
"Stay a bit--I want to show you something," he said, trying to act cool but obviously excited about something.
"Just watch," he said.
Right at 9:00, a woman entered the shop. She was tall and dressed in a business suit, her blonde hair in a tight bun, her dark-rimmed glasses perched on her sharp nose.
"Shit!" I said, "Isn't that Angie Carson?"
"It is indeed!" beamed Daniel as he admired her leafing through his stock.
"But she always gave us shit about reading comics in high school. What's she doing here?"
"She comes here every Tuesday at closing time, though she doesn't know why."
"Huh?" I asked but Angie was approaching the counter.
"Well, well, well," she said, as condescending as I remembered her. "The Dysfunctional Duo, together again. Evildoers beware!"
"Hi Angie," I said and she raised her perfectly-plucked eyebrows at me in answer.
"Don't you have anything worth looking at?" she asked Daniel.
"Well, I might have something that could spark your imagination," Daniel replied and ducked down beneath the counter. He emerged with a big flashlight. He pointed it at a black poster on the wall and switched it on. A red spot appeared with 'TW' in bold black letters in the middle.
"Check that out, Angie," said Daniel.
Angie stared at the spot and her face blanked, her mouth hanging half open. I turned to ask Daniel what was going on, but he put a finger to his lips and mouthed that I should wait. After a moment, Angie snapped back to life.
"The Whore Signal," she said in a soft, melodramatic voice, "The city is in trouble."
"Excuse me, Sir," she said to Daniel, "May I use your storeroom for a moment."
"Of course, Miss," said Daniel and she hurried into the back room.
"What the fuck?" I asked as Daniel locked the front entrance and pulled down metal shutters across the windows.
"Angie was in my psych class before I dropped out," he explained, "That's when I discovered she was deeply susceptible to hypnosis and post-hypnotic suggestion."
"So she's hypnotized?" I asked incredulously.
"Very," Daniel smirked.
"Shit," I answered.
"I shit you not, sir," he countered. "Put this on."
He handed me a black ball cap with 'Bad Guy' in white letters written on it. He put one on himself that said 'D-Man' and I followed suit; You have to pick your battles with Daniel and some things aren't worth arguing about. I figured maybe he'd tell me what was going on eventually if I went along with him. I really doubted he had hypnotized Angie.
My doubts were trumped when Angie emerged from the back room.
"Tremble, evildoers!" she shouted. "TurboWhore is here!"
The transformation was mindboggling. She wore shiny red boots that encased her calves up to the knee, 5 inch heals and pointed toes making them look nearly impossible to walk in. Black fishnets climbed out of the boots along her thighs to disappear beneath an obscenely short red PVC skirt. She wore a black utility belt, the buckle a red circle with 'TW' in black electrical tape on it. Attached to the belt were condoms, a black dildo, and a bottle of lube. Her midriff was bare and her sizable tits barely covered by a red PVC halter top, black tape T and W prominent on either boob. A tiny red mask did absolutely nothing to disguise her identity.
In addition to the outfit, she had teased her blonde hair up and out with what must have been an entire can of mousse. Her cheeks were rouged and her lips and nails were bright red. She could have stepped out of the pages of the trashiest comic.
She thrust her chest out, causing her tits to tremble. I thought I saw a wisp of blonde hair beneath the skirt. No way in hell was she getting a Comics Code Authority seal.
"Yes, TurboWhore," continued Angie, "The Scarlet Harlot, sexual warrior in the fight against crime. Once an ordinary business woman, Angie Carson was bitten by a radioactive prostitute, giving her superhuman fuck powers which she uses to seduce the forces of evil!"
I turned to Daniel.
"A radioactive prostitute?"
He grinned sheepishly and shrugged, then turned back to Angie.
"So, TurboWhore, once again your hot cunt stands between me and the city; but your skanky hole won't save you this time, now that I have..." he looked around and grabbed his half-eaten foot-long, "The Salami Sandwich of Doom!"
"D-Man, you fiend!" she cried, "Only a twisted madman like you would use salami as a weapon! But no matter,! You can't destroy the city with your prick in my twat! And you will fuck me, D-Man. Oh yes, you will!"
Daniel grinned at me like a toddler who'd just managed to hit the toilet bowl for the first time. I just stared, still having a hard time believing that I was seeing this.
"Dude, this is crazy," I muttered. "What the hell did you do to her?"
"I told you: hypnosis. You want to fuck her? She won't remember any of it."
"No!" I protested. "Dude, I have a girlfriend!"
"Dude, it's not hardly even cheating. Angie's brain is asleep--she's practically just a blow-up doll when she's like this. It's not like it would be an affair and nobody will ever know! Come on--I know you've dreamed about this."
And I had. Well, not the crazy TurboWhore shit, but I'd sported wood for Angie all through high school, which made her mockery all the more humiliating. I had fantasized a lot about her before Jeannie. O.K., and a few times since Jeannie. But I was an adult--I should be over these adolescent fantasies. It was hard to tell that to my cock right then, however.
"What are you evil doers muttering about?" demanded Angie, tottering towards us with all the swagger she could muster in the ridiculous boots. "Do you truly think you can resists my Pleasure Powers?"
She thrust her tits at Daniel and started rubbing them against his chest.
"Drop the sandwich, D-Man. Drop it and fuck me. My hot, juicy pussy is all the meat you can handle tonight!"
"Maybe so, TurboWhore, but while you're fucking me, my fellow super villain, The Electric Bullet can use the Salami Sandwich of Doom to destroy the city!"
Damn him! He never misses an opportunity to remind me of that stupid supehero name I came up with when I was 11. I was 11, damn it! What the hell did I know? All the good names had been taken by DC and Marvel anyway.
"The Electric Bullet, huh?" said Angie, turning to me. "You are a new nemesis, are you not? You have yet to know TurboWhore, the Fastest Fuck on the Planet! Which of my 3 fuck holes will dissuade you from unleashing evil upon the city? Will it take my super-deep-throat Hummer Attack? TurboWhore has no gag reflex like mortal women!"
.... There is more of this story ...