Mayhem had a bit of a phobia against nipples.
“Your dasterdlyness… I have news for you.” The BF bowed his head in deference.
Mayhem looked on at the bowing boy, admiring the abdominal muscles and bulging quads. He desperately wanted a little nomity nom, but refrained.
“Do tell, my good boy.”
“Apparently Club Conjunction Funxion has brought in Shero to judge tomorrow’s drag queen finals.”
Marvin Mayhem sucked in nearly every molecule of air from the surrounding area until the Boy Friday was unable to breathe. After a good, long sucking — Mayhem caused the boy to pass out.
“We have much evil to do and have no time for your desires of the flesh.” Mayhem stood from his dressing table and walked off.
Sometimes evil could be so clueless.
“I can kill two disgusting birds with one stone of righteousness. Both Shero and the largest collection of falsie-wearing, catty bitches will be in one place during that pageant. Their destruction will be my coup de grâce, my Sistine Chapel, my…”
Say it Mayhem, say it!
“Bette Davis Eyes!”
Not exactly what I thought you were going to say.
The Boy Friday hopped back up from the floor. His hot body left behind a perfect outline of sweat. As the sweat cooled to steam, the boy crossed to Mayhem and handed him his silk kimono.
“We must prepare for battle, Boy Friday. Fetch me my slippers.”
Mayhem looked deep into the camera eye, and a twinkle appeared as a wicked, evil smile spread across his lips.
Fade camera out. Fade up dark, evil music of doom.
Chapter Me
The loveliest of alarms pinged and chimed as the glorious sun dared peek into the boudoir of none other than…
Are you ready for it?
Just… giddy with excitement?
Let’s all say it at the same time. Are you ready? One, two…three.
SHERO!
That’s nice.
A perfectly manicured hand snaked out from under the pink and black satin sheets and softly tapped the alarm off. The hand slipped back under the sheet and ventured into other satin-y places.
“Oh!” Fiend’s soft voice broke the newly formed silence. “Good morning to you, too. And just what is it that Princess wants so early in the… oh my!”
George Takei?
No… just me.
Anway, back to smexy time.
For those that haven’t read the first Shero book, let me digress. Fiend was one of the single most gorgeous women on the planet, and just happened to be madly in love with our superhero.
With a snap of the fingers, a disco ball dropped from the ceiling. The room was glistening with polka dots of light that danced about every wall. The soundtrack to Star Wars started… oh wait, wrong fantasy. Strike that. The sounds of Barry White were heard from a distance. Pheromones were pumped into the air. Sex was about to happen. Big, funky sexy.
Oh baby. We’re knee deep in it now.
“So, my sexy Queen, what are you going to wear to the pageant tonight? I say you go crazy and wear little more than a matching bra and panty set. Of course, I’d never be able to keep my hands off you.”
Shero blushed — in all the right places.
“No woman could resist a man in bra and panties.” Fiend tossed a wicked little smile down at Shero. He returned the smile in kind. That smile would have melted any resolve left in Fiend’s heart. Fortunately, as far as Shero was concerned, Fiend had no resolve. All Fiend had for Shero was the purest and truest of love.
The smexy time the two shared was felt around the neighborhood, nay, the entire city. Men and women broke out into sweats of passion. Teens dropped to their knees to worship some great god of self-satisfaction. Tweens went through puberty.
That’s as far as we’ll take that one.
When the sex was done, the world released a sigh that would be heard for years.
“So?” Fiend looked over at Shero, who was pulling a silky, black stocking up his right leg. “What are you wearing to the pageant? Something special? Something so insanely sexy it won’t be possible for anyone to tear their eyes from you?”
Shero released a laugh so musical, birds went silent in shame and jealousy. “Honey, the last time I stole the show from a group of Queens, a flavor of Hell I never want to taste again broke loose. I think I’ll stick to my uniform. Besides, they’re expecting Shero — not a bedazzled version of Chris.”
Fiend wrapped her arms around her, dare I say it (lest you’ve not read Shero 2: Zombie A GoGo), husband. “You’ll still be prettier than any girl there, Princess.”
“Awwww, honey, you know just what to say.”
Shero pulled on his other stocking, snapped his garters, and slipped into his Little Black Battle Dress. Once his feet slipped into the heels of justice, he was on his way down the stairs to retrieve his purse, his katana, and his keys. Fiend was right behind him, dressing along the way. Shero slid behind the wheel of the Pink Phantom and, once Fiend was seated beside him, put the car into reverse and sped out of the driveway.
Fiend reached out and turned down the music. “The publicity on the pageant has been crazy. Are you concerned about that?”
“The thought had crossed my mind. You have one of the most gorgeous gaggle of queens gathered together and a superhero judging their beauty. Certainly no single group would find reason to get huffy about that. Right?” Shero looked over at Fiend and winked. He knew these sorts of events brought the crazies out in droves. “Honestly though, I’m just glad these girls are getting their moment in the spotlight. All that tucking and plucking has to pay off at some point, or why bother? But, the big question — should I do a number? The subject was brought up when I spoke with the owner of Conjunction Funxion. What do you — ”
Before Shero could finish the question, Fiend found a song and had it blasting out. The song? I Want to Break Free by Queen. The image of Shero dressed as Freddy Mercury with a vacuum was a fantasy of Fiend’s. She made it clear, every chance she had, that she would someday see her man dancing with a Hoover.
“You don’t give up, do you?”
Fiend just shook her head and smiled.
The Pink Phantom sped down the street, the sounds of Queen dancing out of the windows. When Fiend’s squeal of delight was heard, it was clear she had her way.
Again.
Go figure.
Women.
Shoo.
One, two, Shero’s coming for you. Three, four, it’s time for…
Chapter Whore!
And the narrator was caught with his hands up his skirt. Bad, bad narrator. I should so be punished. Who wants to punish me? Anyone? No one? Seriously? Lame.
Where was I? Oh yes… back at Conjunction Funxion. It’s almost showtime! Everyone — check your jazz hands. Call Bob Fosse! Someone whisper Macbeth back stage, stat!
The dressing room was nothing more than a cloud of hairspray and powder. The sounds of duct tape and bitches were almost deafening.
“Shoo, bitch done put its hands on my shit. I will cut you, girl!” Sugah Brown cried out.
“Honey, I just need to borrow…”
“Kitten, I don’t care how much innocence you gots in that cooch a yours, you ain’t borrowin’ no nofin’ a mine. My shit is my shit, and yo shit is ho shit, so back the fuck down from yos truly, Sugah Brown.”
Tears immediately streamed down Kitten Kaboodle’s cheeks.
“Oh, hookah no. Now damns it all ta Hell, you knows Sugah has a soft spot fo’ tears. Ah, shit. Comes ta momma.”
Sugah Brown wrapped long, chocolate arms around Kitten Kaboodle. Her sniffling and sobbing subsided.
“Look at that bitch — acting like she was the Queen of Somethin’ Else. Girlfriend, I’d love to take Miss Thang down a trick or two someday,” Tastey Cakes whispered into the ear of her confidante, and ex lover, Sharon Sharalike.
“That ho hears you, and you’ll be permanently tucked. Don’t fuck wi
th her, Sharon. That bitch is Mean Girl defined,” Miss Sharalike warned Tastey.
The door to the dressing room flew open. Emma Sea blasted through, already in costume and smoking like a French Whore.
“Girls, our superhero has arrived. I want everyone out on the stage in five for a little Shero meet and greet. Get those falsies in place and your shit strapped in. Chop chop!”
Boos and hisses rang out.
“Hookah, you know you don’t say those words in a Queen’s dressing room. We all gets jealous and starting weeping at the thought of those little man things between our legs,” Sugah barked.
“Chop chop, bitches!” Emma hissed and exited the room.
“One of these days, that woman is gonna get her tits pinched.”
Everyone broke out laughing at Kitten’s innocent threat. She was the pure one of the bunch. Youth could afford such naïvity — even among a bitter bunch of Queens.
Sugah Brown stood and started for the door. “Let’s gets ta steppin’ bitches. We gots a supah hero ta meet and eat.”
As soon as Sugah Brown stepped out of the dressing room, the rest of the queens rushed the door. Although they refused to admit the fact, each and every girl was pink with envy over Shero. Jealousy was a dessert fit for a queen, and the queens at Conjunction Funxion did dine on that snack sticky sweet daily.
“Nevah fear, Sugah Brown is here. Open up your arms, you big hunka superhero man and let me fold you into my love.”
Sugah stood, center stage, her arms spread wide waiting for Shero to fall into her embrace. When no man came forward, Sugar opened her eyes and looked about.
“Where’s mah man? I said, where in the fuck is that man? Ain’t no one make a fool of Sugah Brown and stand ta tells about it.”
The entrance to the theatre swung open. A blazing light of glory filled the room. Angels swooped down from heaven to sing an exalted tune.
The narrator puked up the six-cheeze calzone he had for lunch, thanks to the heavenly schtick going on in the story. The taste of bile and ricotta was not heavenly.
“Shero!” Kitten Kaboodle purred as she ran across the stage and practically fell into the arms of Shero.
“Oh my God, you are my hero! Would you sign my gaff?” Kitten hiked up her dress to reveal a pink gaff thong.
“Bad kitty!” Tastey Cakes ran over to Kitten and smacked her paw. Kitten dropped her dress and ran back to the corner of the stage to lick her wounds.
“I’m sorry, Shero. Kitten is a bit anxious. Actually we all are, what with meeting you and the pageant. But I want to say, for all of us, it is truly an honor to have you here to serve as the judge for our little show.”
It was Sugah’s turn. She cat-walked to the edge of the stage and slinked down to the house floor level.
“Bitch, ain’t nothin’ ‘bout this show is little — ‘cept maybe your talent. Now git yoself back up on the stage before Sugah has to melt you down and turn you into a broach for her shawl.”
Tastey took off and ran to Kitten to calm the youngest of the Queens.
Sugah and Shero stood, practically nose to nose, tit to tit.
“So, the great and powerful Shero, as I live and bleed. I gots a question I wanna axe you. If yous so supah, why we still having to hide out in the darkest of nights? Why is it Sugah Brown can’t mosey on out in the middle of the day without fearing for her life? Riddle me that, Shera.”
The superhero looked deeply into Sugah Brown’s dark eyes.
And pulled out his katana and sliced her throat!
I kid! I kid. There was no throat slicing. I promise. Just a stare off and a conversation. Is that better? Wouldn’t want to have violence in a story about a superhero.
Sheesh and/or shoo!
Shero looked into Sugah Brown’s eyes and spoke softly — making sure Sugah knew there was a line to cross and to use caution when crossing.
“It’s such an honor to have been chosen to preside over this auspicious occasion. I will do my best to uphold the class and the truth you have all struggled so hard to provide our wonderful city. As for your question, Sugah Brown, I fight every day for your right to be who you are. But I cannot win that fight alone. I may be a superhero, but I am not made of miracles. I need your help to open the minds of the good people of this city.”
Sugah Brown laughed. But before she could open her mouth to begin a new tirade, Jean Pool stepped in.
“Ladies, you’re both pretty. Now, we have a show to put on and it’s getting close to curtain. Sugah, please… ” Jean gestured back toward the dressing rooms.
Sugah turned her nose up and walked off, shakin’ her groove thang to the left…
POW!
To the right…
BANG!
And back again to the left…
PATING!
“I’m so sorry, Shero. Sugah Brown can get kind of intense before a big show.” Jean batted her eyes at the superhero in the super dress. “Do you have any special requests, before we all retire to the dressing rooms to prepare?”
Shero smiled wide. “Well, actually I do have one tiny little request.”
The two ‘ladies’ walked off together so that no one (not even yours truly) could hear the request.
Now that’s just rude! Bitches.
Chapter Jive
…is so alive, with the sound of evil! Mwahaha. Mwahahaha! Mwahahahahaha!
Sorry, sorry. I do so get carried away when it comes to evil. And why shouldn’t I? Their costumes are always soooooo sexy. So much vinyl, rubber, and fishnet. Yum!
Marvin Mayhem rubbed his hand up and down the phallic shifter of the Mayhem Mobile. The roadster was cruising at a smooth ninety-five miles an hour — in a school zone! Soooooo evil! Just as he zipped by Mother Saint Mary Catholic School, a red rubber kick ball bounced under his car and was flattened by one of the wheels. The popping sound was the death of a child’s happiness. Poor, dear childhood dreams, squashed under the wheels of the machine.
Sound familiar? Eh? Eh????
His plan was in full swing. It was a simple plan. Gain access to the show, open up a can of Mayhem Spray (Patent Pending), and rid the world of enough estrogen to power the entire cast of the Vagina Monologues through menopause.
His weapon of choice? The Jizz Lobber (Patent also Pending) was his most delightful of inventions. It was the perfect of weapons. Delightful to the touch, delicious to the taste.
Mmmmm, smell the love.
The Mayhem Mobile pulled up to the curb at Conjunction Funxion. Marvin Mayhem stepped out, his steel-toed work boots ready to kick some tranny ass. He tossed the keys to the valet and slipped the shirtless, wunderkind a ten pack of condoms to park it with grace and love.
Everyone within the club was blind to what was going down. Not a soul understood that doom was about to walk into their den of iniquity, their womb of wanton, their…
Over-indulge much?
Shoo.
Had anyone held the slightest of inklings, the Elvis impersonators would have left the building long ago. Instead, the gay boys and gay girls went about their gay business as if nothing bad could ever happen in gay town.
Bow chikka bow wow!
Oh my, so Takei!
Stop!
“ID, please.” The six-pack at the entry way held out his hand and requested Mayhem’s ID.
“Oh, how cute. Does the over-stuffed cock sucker need to see my driver’s license so he knows I’m old enough to know a whore when I see one?”
The bouncer stood and flexed every muscle in his body. What the man didn’t know was he had just been shot with a fine mist of estrogen. Even before the flexing could evolve into something worse, the bouncer was reduced to tears and chocolate-fueled piques of passion. As the overly-muscled, zero body fat hunk of sex appeal lay curled up on the floor begging for lipo and a lip job, Mayhem walked casually through the door. The Jizz Lobber (patent still pending) rubbed up against Mayhem’s thigh, begging for release.
Marvin rubbed the package underneath h
is denim. “Soon, my dear, so very soon.”
The ego-sized posters of the drag queens adorned every wall of the “Palace du ChaCha”. But none of the queens’ likenesses compared to the nearly 3D (2.5 D? Double D?) image of Shero standing watch at the entryway to the Funxion Theatre.
The party was on and it wasn’t going to stop. Glow sticks, abs, and thongs were everywhere. Every flavor of drag could be seen. Liza, Cher, Barbara — the holy trinity of tranny was represented on every level. Straight boys, straight girls, bi-boys, and tri-girls; everyone and everything collected together, under one roof, to see who would be crowned Queen of the Ball of Balls.
Little did they all know. Little. Did. They. Know.
Marvin Mayhem made his way into the theatre. His idea was to find the perfect spot with which to unleash his Jizz Lobber (patent leather — and still pending). But to his dismay, the theatre was already jam packed. It was standing room only. Even then, the ‘room’ was hard to come by. Eventually Mayhem found a spot near the bar to perch himself. He ordered a Donkey Punch and prepared himself for the wait.
Chapter Sixxx
Warning to all parents: This scene, as you can tell by the chapter heading, is rated XXX. Please stow away your children in the compartments above your seats. You may retrieve your children once the flight has landed. Thank you for traveling TrannyWorld Air.
“Remember girls — dicks in, tits out! Let’s knock ‘em dead and show ‘em who’s all woman!”
Kitten Kaboodle was all nerves, but was still the cutest cheerleader of the queens. Her positive attitude was infectious to all but the most jaded of girls.
“Honey, I’m gonna smash yo overies back to nevah nevah land. When Sugah Brown is done sexin’ up that stage, they won’t remember another girl stepped a size eleven pump across the boards. You can take that to mah bank!” Sugah snapped her fingers and flipped her head in recognition of her own favorite phrase.
“Okay ladies! It’s show time! Shero, are you ready for your number?” The MC had her hand on the curtain, ready to step out into the limelight and announce the surprise song.
Shero had battled the most evil of villains, the most dastardly of mad scientists, the most stubborn of stains — but never before had this super fabulous superhero been so afraid as he was once he knew it was all very real. He was about to go out onto a public stage and perform a drag number. If this didn’t ruffle feathers of the superhero leaders at SENTINEL, nothing would.