Chapter 2: "My Spidey Sense is tingling!"

Let's get something straight here. Why the fuck are alarm clocks so harsh? I realize that people need to wake up but why to this terrible alarm klaxon. I started using an alarm to wake myself up 4 years ago and already it is making me psychotic. I shit you not. Whenever I hear an alarm while awake, I go fucking insane. I remain cool on the outside, so people think I'm sane and shit but on the inside, nothing is holding me back from taking a sledgehammer to the face of that guy next to me. I also developed an interesting defense mechanism. Whenever I'm lying in bed, asleep, and my alarm goes off, my brain doesn't wake up right away. The first body part to move is my left arm. The moment the auditory nerve sends the signal of the alarm noise to my brain (still asleep mind you) my arm flies out of the sheets straight towards the alarm clock at blistering speeds. The arm is equally intelligent as it is fast. It knows exactly which button to push. It doesn't hit the snooze button, oh no, because it knows that this will only provide momentary safety from the harsh noise. Instead, it goes for the tiny button above the alarm button with the little nipple on top. It goes for this button because it knows that it will turn the alarm clock off for good and successfully end the threat. Most of the time I awake before my arm can finish its task but every once in a while, it moves with such dexterity that I never even wake up. I hate when this happens. It makes me late for school because, like most kids, I set my alarm to give me about 20 minutes to shower, shit, shave, and drive to school. The magical time I was to wake up was 7:40. Because of the delicate pattern in which I follow the afore-mentioned activities to allow maximum utility for my time, waking up even a minute after my alarm should have woke me throws the entire balance out of whack. I looked at the clock. It said 7:50. I said "Oh shit." My mother said "Get up you lazy scoundrel, you'll be late for school." I said "grumble, grumble, grumble."

Normally it takes several seconds to gather my thoughts together when I wake up but when I'm late I'm empowered by this sort of "panic energy". I literally jumped out of bed and as soon as I did, I noticed a difference. Something was ... not quite right. I felt a little heavier, so to speak. Despite my lack of time I stopped short. I glanced over at my wall mirror and instantly remembered the words I heard last night from that crazy black dude in the mirror. Didn't he call himself the Pimp-Fairy? That's fucking hilarious; I'll tell my friends about that one. But he also told me something else.

"Cameron, from this moment forth, you are hereby blessed by the Pimp-Fairy. No more will women idly pass you by. No more will you jack off to cheap porn. No longer will you remain a virgin. You have inherited the Power of The Pimp! From now on, you are irresistible to women!"

I don't know how I remembered that entire paragraph, but I did. Hmmm. I scratched my tummy while I pondered these cryptic words. My eyebrows instantly rose as I felt something strange under my shirt. It almost felt like ... definition. I ripped off my shirt and beheld a body not of this earth. "HOLY SHIT!" I had the tummy of a Greek God. In fact, I had the entire physique of Greek God, and a really crunk-diesel one at that. I still had the same thin frame I always had but I was now equipped with a fully defined six-pack and some kick-ass man-boobs as well. This would certainly explain that strange feeling I had, but where did all this come from? To tell the truth, I really didn't care. I started flexing in the mirror and admiring how goddamn beautiful I was but my mother brought me back to reality, "Cameron, wake up!" God I hate that bitch. I put my shirt back on to avoid the stupid questions she was bound to ask and that I definitely couldn't answer and headed for the shower.

My mother gave me one of those sinister glances as I brushed past her. I tried not to look in her eyes. She was like the medusa. I feigned coughing while calling her a "bitch" but she heard what I said. "I heard that you little bastard" She said, and smiled as she walked away. She always thinks I'm joking when I insult her. Heh, I am SO far from joking. My friends think I'm an asshole for treating my mother the way I do but that's because they don't know what that horrible witch did to me as a child. I was a sick child but had a lot of fun anyways. I had a ton of friends and tons of stuff to do all the time. Then I developed asthma and that bitch started giving me steroids from the doctor to fend it off. Now one thing is true. When you take steroids and work out, they make you huge. Well, when you're sick and young and take them for medicinal purposes, they make you huge too. Those damn pills made me so fat it was frightening. It took me 4 years to lose the weight but I'm still recovering from the emotional abuse of 1st graders who didn't know what kind of anguish they caused by making fun of the fat kid.

I walked into the bathroom, locked the door behind me, and stared into the mirror. I once more took off my shirt and admired the radical change that occurred over night. I gave a good arm-flex but over my bulging biceps I caught the reflection of a clock hanging on the opposite wall. It was 8 o'clock already. I had better put the heat on or I was going to be quite late for school. This was not the time to be ogling over my supremely luscious new body. I pulled the shower curtain open and turned on the showerhead. I tested the water, ripped off my PJ pants, and jumped in. It was then that something hit me. Yeah, it was water, but something else hit me as well. Something else felt a little heavier. You know what I mean. I glanced down and nearly fainted. A single ray of light shined through the bathroom window and fell upon my penis. The sound of Handel's Hallelujah Chorus began to reverberate throughout the bathroom. My god, it was beautiful.

I went to bed with a bit less than 6 inches, fully erect, but woke up with what I would guess to be 8 or 9 inches while soft! I reached down and touched it. Every man knows every intricacy of his own dick but this one was new to me. To be honest, it felt a little strange touching a foreign penis. I shook off those slightly homosexual thoughts and marveled at its design. This was no ordinary penis. It looked as if it was sculpted out of marble by Michaelangelo. I could tell that under its rather large surface appearance, it contained a power unfathomable to the ordinary man. It seethed with sexual energy. I knew I was strapped for time but I had to try this puppy out. I mean, who wouldn't? I closed my eyes and pictured Christi Turlington bouncing up and down on my brand new cock. The beast instantly came to life, rising like a fucking Frankenstein. It pulsated with energy and filled up with rock hard power. I couldn't erase the smile from my face if I tried. Well, I started doing my thing, and to make a long story short, I never had a better orgasm in my life. My arm was a little tired from moving up and down my enormous length but it was well worth it. Also, I could kill people with this thing. When I climaxed, it fired about ten shots with the velocity of a .22 rifle. Damn, that Pimp-Fairy is the shit. My shower did take a bit longer than expected, especially since I was late, but I think that's fair considering what he gave me. So far, in one hour of my day, I awoke to find myself wrapped in a fabulous new body with a cock that could make Jenna Jameson scream in pain. Well, maybe not Jenna, but you get the picture. I could only imagine what the rest of the day had in store for me. The Pimp-Fairy didn't even mention a new body. To say the least, I was giddy with anticipation. I got out of the shower and flexed a few more times before I tried to pull my jeans on, failing violently. My legs had grown in size with muscle overnight and I was barely able to pull the fuckers up on the second try, and even then, I had to do several lunges in my room to stretch them out enough to retain my dignity. Satisfied that I didn't look gay, I headed downstairs.

After grabbing a pop tart and scowling at my mother a little more I walked out of the house to my car. If only that fairy could have given me a better car. I sighed upon sight of my 89' Plymouth Acclaim. If you've ever seen this particular model of shit, you know what I mean. As I opened the car door, the pleasant smell of my particular brand of air freshener wafted into my nostrils. Damn my car smelled like weed. I started the ignition and checked the clock. Homeroom had begun 5 minutes ago but I didn't fucking care. I had a huge dick. I pulled out of the driveway and drove to school. 3 joints later I pulled into my parking spot and emerged from my vehicle with a huge grin on my face and a cup of Starbucks coffee in my hand. I usually only smoke one in the morning but this was a special occasion. I had a huge dick. I breathed in the fresh air, slung my bag over my shoulder and walked down the walkway towards my destiny.

I strolled crookedly down the broken cement walkway to the school and sipped some more of my coffee. Have you ever read the label on the Starbucks cups? That shit cracks me up.

"It is a fleeting moment: With the eyes of an artist, the Starbucks master roaster watches for the perfect roast..."

Give me a break, it's fuckin' coffee. And me thinks that that fleeting moment snuck past them this morning anyway. Every once in a while, Starbucks coffee tastes like a bag of hot garbage. Fleeting moment my ass. I should've expected as much when the on-duty master roaster is a scary 6'7" black lady named Jolanda who sounds like Barry White. I'm always wary about women that can crush me with their bare hands.

As I walked into the hallway, I noticed they were barren. "Oh shit," I said aloud while starting to laugh hysterically for no apparent reason. Jesus, I was stoned. Classes must have already started. I was pretty damn late. I giggled a little more and took a slow jog to my locker. The only thing that sucked about smoking before school is that I could never remember my locker combination. On this morning, because I was feeling particularly groovy, it took a modest 7 attempts. I finally clicked open the locker and hung up my coat. Suddenly, my concentration was destroyed by the sensation of two feminine hands squeezing my ass. Surprised, I quickly turned around and found myself face to face with Sasha Yimin. In complete shock, I backed up and smacked up against the lockers. Sasha was the kind of girl that could have that effect on a man. She had that effect on me especially, because I'm such a hit with the ladies (heavy sarcasm). "Oh Randy, I would have never recognized you by the shape of your ass, have you been working out?" Time froze.

While time is frozen, let me paint you a picture of Sasha. First of all, she is hot as hell. She had long black hair to just below her shoulders with a few dark brown highlights. Her face was the perfect complexion, slightly tanned, but not overly dark. Her eyes were bright green and absolutely gorgeous. They were obviously modified by those colored contacts, but it just made her even more beautiful. She also wore just the right amount of eye shadow to make you think she had dark and mysterious intentions. This, combined with her dark eyeliner, accentuated her eyes so that you could easily get lost in them if the rest of her body didn't tear you away. Her red lips were slightly open in that sexy half-smile girls like to do with guys they tease but something told me that she wasn't trying to tease me. Her lovely neck led down to her lovely petite shoulders and arms that were a perfect athletic shape. They weren't so thin that she looked anorexic and they weren't too thick, like some of those beastly basketball players. Her breasts were perfect like the rest of her. About the size of oranges, they were perky with youth. She always walked with her chest jutted out because they were so magnificent. Under those wonderful globes was her stomach, flat with the slightest definition that was barely discernible at first glance. Her belly button was adorable. The stomach is my favorite part of a woman, hinting at the treasures beneath and above, and hers was perfect. Her waist widened slightly to her hips and to her long wonderful legs. They were legs that have never been scarred or chaffed. They were legs that went on for miles. They were legs I'd like to feel wrapped around my back. She was a goddess, and did I mention a cheerleader? She was wearing the standard bare mid-dress outfit of our school's squad, emblazoned with a panther between her tits and adorned with our school's colors, black and dark purple.

To say the least I was stunned. To say it correctly though, I was nearly comatose with fear. I did, however, believe her about my ass. I had checked it out in the mirror earlier in the morning and it was pretty marvelous. Sasha had never spoken to me before and I had never spoken to her. I knew her from a few classes together and from gazing longingly at the cheerleaders every chance I got. Also, she had a nice reputation as a slut. This was good news for me, I guess, but I felt a little sad for her. She was far too beautiful to have a bad reputation. I never thought that she knew me and I guess I was right, considering she called me Randy. Who the fuck is Randy?

"Um, actually my name is Cameron" I stuttered.

"Really?" she said, "I love that name." She spoke very softly and very sexy-like while taking a step forward and placing her hands on my chest. She was now inches from my body. Suddenly my brand new shiny Penis woke up and said "Huh, What's going on?" She continued.

"So have you?" She smiled and tilted her head a bit. "Been working out I mean, I think I would have noticed an ass like yours before." She reached behind me and grabbed my cheeks, pulling them forward, closer to her. I felt her hot breath against my face. Was she drunk or something? Girls don't really act like this. She didn't smell intoxicated. In fact, she smelled intoxicating. I had no fucking clue what was going on. I was too frightened to speak so I just marveled at her beauty a little more. Then I recalled, once more, the words of the wonderful Pimp-Fairy.

"Cameron, from this moment forth, you are hereby blessed by the Pimp-Fairy. No more will women idly pass you by. No more will you jack off to cheap porn. No longer will you remain a virgin. You have inherited the Power of The Pimp! From now on, you are irresistible to women!"

Trust me, that's not the last time I'd recall those words (and that's not the last time you'll see them either). This was just fucking amazing! One of the hottest girls I've ever known was coming on to me like a drunken whore. She leaned forward, pressing her chest to mine, while still gripping my ass. She stepped forward with one leg and slowly began to hump my upper thigh. Her head was resting against my shoulder and I could hear her muffled moans against the fabric of my fleece. "Relax baby," she said and rubbed her hair against my face. I placed my hands on her waist uneasily. I couldn't believe what was happening. She moved her face to the side of my head and circled my ear with her tongue. The feeling was electrifying. "Cameron, I want you now." She said. My cock lurched to full attention stabbing her hips. She smiled and let out the sexiest little squeal I have ever heard. Did I hear her correctly? I could not imagine sex with this girl. It would be too beautiful for words. She stared up at me with those tantalizing eyes and leaned in for a kiss. Her nose touched mine. My eyes closed and my mind began drifting away to paradise...

"What is going on here!" My heart skipped a beat and I immediately straightened up at the voice of principal Lecter. Yes, that's right, Lecter, as in Hannibal Lecter. You know, the guy who eats people? I quickly pushed my dick as far down as it would go and turned to face the fat bastard who was rapidly approaching from my right. Was I really just humping Sasha Yimin with my thigh? And was principal Lecter actually fucking up my first-ever chance to get laid? I realized that the answer to both of those questions was "yes" as Sasha grabbed my shirt and pulled my face to hers. She whispered into my ear, "To be continued," smacked my ass, and starting briskly walking away the other direction. I smiled as I watched her leave: that luscious ass waving me goodbye. "Mr. Blake!" Shit, I already forgot about that cocksucker. I brushed off my shirt and tried to gather my composure. "Mr. Blake, I should have known. You weren't necking with that girl, were you son? I'm sure you know that fraternization isn't allowed in my school."

"Necking Sir?" I started to laugh. Shit, I was still a little high.

"You know what I mean smartass, why aren't you in class?" He stopped in front of me, trying to stare me down with those beady little eyes. Clarence Lecter was a short, fat, near-sighted simpleton who thought he was the shit because he was a principal. He looked a whole lot like that smart asshole Sicilian on "The Princess Bride." INCONCEIVABLE! We had a loving relationship because we saw so much of each other. I had a reputation too, you see, and while "stoner" isn't as bad as "slut," it still managed to put me in a great position with authority figures. He began to sniff the air around me. "Is that marijuana I smell son? Have you been smoking doobies in my school?" I really tried not to laugh, I really did, but hearing the word "doobie" is so damn funny, especially when I'm stoned. I started giggling but snapped out of it as quickly as possible.

"Uh sir ... I really wouldn't know if you smell weed ... err ... marijuana, because I don't know what it smells like." Good lord I was fucked. I messed that up so bad a 2-year-old would have known I was lying. Lester stared at me for a second.

"Step aside son. I'm checking your locker." He gave me a little push aside and opened up my locker. I gave him a 50/50 chance of finding something. I really couldn't remember whether or not I'd left anything in there so I was a little worried.

"Gimme a break Clarence, my power went out last night and my alarm didn't go off. I have a huge sociology test tomorrow and I really got to get to my class before I miss anymore of the review." I emphasized the word "huge" for a little pinache. I gave him my wounded animal look and hoped he'd let me go. Clarence paused and stared at me again.

"My name is Mr. Lecter, smartass, and while I know you're up to something, I'll let you go this time out of respect for your teachers. However, if you ever come in late again, you're mine." He pointed at his eyes and then at me. "I'm watching you Mr. Blake. Get to your class."

I don't why people believe my lies, I'm so goddamn bad at it. Oh well, score two points for me. He turned away and waddled down the hall, his little legs carrying all that weight as fast as they could. Until we meet again, Hannibal, until we meet again. I quickly took the opportunity to review what had just happened. Was Sasha Yimin just gyrating against my crotch saying she wanted to fuck me? It sounded too good to be true but I looked down and my dick seemed to agree, and he never lied. "What the hell?" I said aloud while grabbing my books and stuffing them in my bag. I looked down the hall but Sasha wasn't there. That Pimp-Fairy sure did something, that's for sure. And if that bastard wouldn't have shown up when he did I'd probably have Sasha bent over a desk somewhere, pounding away. That little prick. Oh well, she did say, "To be continued." Indeed Sasha. Indeed.

I gathered the rest of my stuff and sprayed a little AXE on for safety's sake. No sense risking another encounter. I walked down the ever-familiar hall and peered in to my first-period class. He was talking. This was good. At least I hadn't missed a test or anything. I opened up the door.

Don't you hate walking into class late, or anywhere late for that matter? Everyone stares at you and the teacher purposely stops speaking so everyone can hear your pitiful excuse. "Uh gee wiz sir, I woke up today with a new dick and just had to whack off at least once before school today." Yeah, that definitely wouldn't fly. I looked at the class and everyone was staring at me. What a horrible feeling THAT is. "Sorry I'm late Mr. Mathews, I slept in a little."

"That's fine Cameron, just take your seat." I gratefully did as asked. I walked down aisle one to my back row seat where I could happily relax after this morning's harrowing events. I plopped down in my seat and fished out my book. I reached for a pencil from my bag but glanced up and realized that almost every girl in the class was still staring at me. I brushed off my shirt and started looking about me for something wrong. Was there shit on my face or something?

"Hey People," Mr. Mathews shouted and clapped his hands, "We've got class here, remember?" Finally, the girls turned away but a few of them gave me glancing smiles. I smiled back, of course, and reclined in my chair. I guess they were all just trying to fight the urge to fuck me. At least that's what I hoped it was. Considering my little run-in with Sasha it seemed perfectly likely. Hmm, every girl in the school wants to fuck me. This had the potential to be a very good day.

I breathed a sigh of relief to finally be in class and took in some of the scenery. Most of the fine ladies in this class were excellent looking. There was Shannon, the always-nice sandy blonde in the front row. She was pretty hot and had an ass to die for but her attitude and manner just overwhelmed me sometimes. She was one of those girls that were just profoundly happy all the time. It normally just makes her fun to be around but on the wrong day it can provoke you to kill your fellow man. There was Cara, the cute girl-next-door that tried to hide her great looks behind glasses but failed in the attempt because they actually made her look hotter. What was great about this girl-next-door was that she actually was the girl next door. We've been friends since we were little kids and she's always been there for me. We'd gotten along fine for years but lately she's turned into a real hottie, and because I'm a big pussy, this actually drove us apart because I didn't know what to say to her.

Ahh, and then there's Stacey. If God was a woman, her name would be "Stacey." I've had a crush on this girl since the third grade. She's just strikingly beautiful with a great personality to boot. I liked everything about her. Her short blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, sticking through the back of her baseball cap. I've always had a thing for girls wearing caps. I guess it's some kind of fetish for me. She had a great body too although today she was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. Few people can look absolutely amazing in that outfit but Stacey pulled it off easily. She was hotter than hot. She leaned forward in her seat just enough to expose a little bit of her bare back. Hey now, those jeans are a little low. Is that a thong I see?

"Cameron!" shouted Mr. Mathews. I must have zoned out again.

"Huh, oh I'm sorry sir. What did you say?"

"I was just wondering if you could tell the class why Pavlov's dog box was so effective." I had no clue what the fuck he was talking about. Puppy love? Dog box? What?

"I'm sorry sir, I wasn't paying attention." I admitted.

"Straighten yourself up in that chair Cam, c'mon, this stuff is important." Some of the girls looked back at me again and giggled. They were all that I was thinking about. They were all I ever thought about.

Class took forever and I was beginning to fall asleep, still staring at Stacey's ass, when the class bell woke me with a start. I quickly rose and gathered my things. I was nervous with anticipation. How would these girls react to me now? As I walked out of the door, I was greeted by 3 girls, all of them smiling and laughing with each other. "Hey Cam," they said, almost in unison. I smiled and was about to say something back when another girl to my right said, "Hi Cameron, how's it hanging?" If she only knew how IT was hanging she would probably faint. I turned around in the hallway being greeted by every girl that passed, either with a smile, a gesture, or words. Good God, did the Pimp-Fairy really make me irresistible? Gina, a girl I knew for several years, totally hot, squeezed my shoulder as she walked by. I spun around only to see her fleeting smile as she passed. This was amazing. My self-esteem began to skyrocket.

What the hell was going on? I didn't quite know, but I liked it. Every girl I passed stared at me or gave me a sly glance. I was all smiles in return to each girl that passed me by. This was so awesome. I felt like the most attractive being in all of humanity. Hell, depending on how good that Pimp-Fairy was, I could very well be the most attractive being in all of humanity. And I felt it. With each passing, with each stare, with each smile I grew more daring. The feeling of power was overwhelming. I stopped off in the restroom for a quick refresher before my next class. I walked into that bathroom a new man, a confident man. I took a piss while still smiling to myself at my good fortune. "This can't get any better," I thought. I walked from the stall to the faucet and washed my hands. Just then I remembered the event that started all this. It was last night when I spotted that strange black man in my mirror. I leaned over to splash some water in my face and then turned off the faucet. This situation was the same as last night. I half expected to see a weird black dude in the mirror when I looked up. Well, I didn't see the Pimp-Fairy in the mirror, but I did see a beautiful girl standing behind me. I was a bit startled but figured that she must have followed me in here. Why else would a girl be in the boy's bathroom? I turned around to face her and grabbed some paper towels to wipe my face with. I really couldn't think of anything else to say so I just stated the obvious. "Uh Hi. This is the boy's bathroom you know?"

This girl looked really good so I was a bit confused as to why I had never seen her before. She had blonde hair pulled back with one of those plastic claw deals. A few strands dangled on the back of her neck and one strand of hair hung on the outer side of each of her lovely eyes. She had great blue eyes, as deep as the ocean. She had on light lipstick, with a slightly darker lining around and her makeup was done in a way that accentuated her lips. She was smiling and staring at me as I moved. Her breasts were fantastic and she knew it too. She was wearing one the tightest shirts I have ever seen. It really wasn't much of a shirt but it managed to cover up most of her stomach above her belly button and the lower part of each breast. She must have been at least a C cup too cause there was some serious cleavage here. That's quite large for a girl as thin as she was. Her cute belly button was pierced with a diamond stud and her waist trailed off elegantly to her proportionate hips. Some people don't like belly button piercing but I find it extremely arousing. Speaking of arousing, my newly acquired best friend began to stir. She was wearing very short jean shorts below that and her long sensual stems ended in Diesel tennies. The girl had taste.

"You're Cameron right?" she said.

"Yeah," I replied, "Can I help you with something?" She knew my name. It always made me feel good when people I didn't know knew me.

"Oh, you probably don't know me, my name is Janelle. I'm a friend of your sister's." Oh god, she was one of Sarah's little groupies. Sarah was two grades lower than me and extremely popular because she was good looking. My friends were always asking me to hook them up with dates and shit. It was really quite annoying. She did have tasty looking friends though. Janelle reached up and twirled her finger around in one of her loose strands of hair. I love it when girls do that. "I've been over your house a few times but we've never actually met."

"Cool," I said. "What's up?" She just kept staring. I didn't know what to do. "Umm, can I help you with something?" She took a few steps forward, still twirling her hair.

"Actually, I was hoping that you could help me with something." She chuckled slightly at her words. "You see, every time I see you I get this funny feeling that I really can't explain." She started smiling coyly. What is this here? This couldn't be flirting, could it? I've heard of this before but the never actually been the object of it. It felt kind of nice.

"Umm ... ok," I said. I hate myself.

"Yeah," She said, still smiling widely. She kept walking closer. "And the thing is, its getting worse. All the other times I got this feeling I just shrugged it off, but today it feels like I'm going to explode."

"No kidding," I said. Wow, another genius remark from the empty recesses of my resin-coated brain.

"Actually, it's more of an urge I guess." She stepped up right next to me and looked into my eyes. She was about 5'6," so she had to look up at me this close. God, she was beautiful. She placed a hand on my shirt and started rubbing up and down my chest. "Are you starting to get a funny feeling about me?" she asked. My cock started pressing against the fabric of my boxers. What is going on? It must be like all-extremely-hot-girls-try-to-fuck-Cameron-day or something. Girls do not act like this! Actually I thought her whole "funny feeling" approach was cheesy as hell. You know, the kind of crap you read in shitty sex stories or something? The kind of bullshit two-bit authors throw in when they suck at writing dialogue? That kind of thing. Honestly though, it was working. Here is the part where I seize up from fear.