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Power Girl's Boy Toy	By : Ksennin Category: DC Verse Comics > Superman Views: 30942 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own the Power Girl franchise or any Power Girl characters. I make no money from publishing this work.

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Hiro actually did go for holding her hand. That was sorta sweet, really.
His workshop was the size of a warehouse and looked like his id had exploded into physical reality. It was, at least, the id of a quite creative and not very pervy type. There were robots, cars, boats, spaceships, motorcycles, and models, in various stages of completion, with a kind of inscrutable order to their arrangement that kept one from tripping over tools every second. Every workspace was set apart, though at times similar projects overlapped. The sight of it all had an unusually calming effect on Karen. She thought there was a kind of Zen to the undisciplined discipline the work was ordered upon, then thought that that was racist and chided herself.
For hours, Hiro showed her around, telling her about his inventions with a degree of pride, but not the kind of egotism she found off-putting. And though he flirted with her, it wasn’t overbearing, but always in a funny, sparing sort of way. He was sweet on her, as the old expression went, and the longer she spent with him, the more it became clear that his hero worship and crushing were just that. They weren’t cover for any of the usual leering, or lusting, or even more aggressive ‘seductions’ that Karen had grown used to. He legitimately thought the world of her, without that being at all dependent on her humoring him, favoring him, dating him, blowing him, or doing anything but being herself.
And he didn’t once look at her tits.
Was it any wonder she indulged the kid a little? Leaning over to get a ‘good look’ at this gizmo or that, and so making a spectacle of the view down her cleavage. Or just brushing against him the slightest bit as she moved around—so easy to fake when she could fly. In fact, she could even use her power of flight solely on her breasts, making them especially heave with her breathing. No one could prove she did it… but she did it.
“And these,” Hiro said, trying not to ogle as he picked up a pair of coke-bottle glasses with a spiral pattern on the lenses, “are actual X-ray glasses. I think doctors could use them, battlefield medics could diagnose an injury at a glance…”
“Teenage boys could see Starfire naked,” Karen said leadingly.
Hiro set the glasses aside, blushing. “I always thought all you had to do for that is wait.”
Karen picked the spectacles back up as he moved on. She tried them on.
Hiro’s ass was small. Young and hairless. She wouldn’t mind grabbing something like that as a man thrust into her.
Karen whipped the glasses off, returning them to the worktable where she’d found them. She was not indulging the kid that much.
If only he’d turned around, though…
“And here is the new Batmobile,” Hiro continued, ushering her to a chassis cradled by various robotic arms. It was half-assembled with armor plates, the remaining framework letting Karen see the various armaments and engine bits packed inside.
“It looks like a tank,” she said. “Are you the one who keeps giving him tanks? I thought the Batmobile was supposed to be a car.”
“What do you want, a convertible with little bat-wings?” Hiro asked. “Batman likes the tank. I could build you a tank.”
“A tank would actually suit me. Isn’t Batman supposed to be a ninja or something? If you put a ninja inside a monster truck, what’s the point?”
“Hey now, I’ll accept tank, but monster truck is pushing it.”
“Oh, is it?” Karen asked, getting up close and personal, going toe-to-toe with him. Which pretty much shoved her tits in his face, her being tall and him still being on the short side.
“Uh, yeah. It is. You should, I mean, I’d prefer…”
Karen backed up. “Hiro, we’ve got to work on your social skills. I’m not the tallest superheroine out there. You think Big Barda’s gonna worry about you being at motorboat height for every conversation?”
“Muh-muh-motorboat?”
Karen sighed. “We’ll get to that later. C’mon, show me another toy. Girls don’t always go for big, hulking machines, you know. We like skill.”
“Oh, ah, skill—“ Hiro darted over to what looked like a miniature operating table, where a six-inch Flash doll was laid out. “This is—“
“Tell me that’s not a Wally West voodoo doll.”
“No, no, it’s a scale model replication experiment of the Speed Force.”
Karen blinked at him. “So, an action figure?”
Hiro picked it up. “Do action figures cost six point eight million dollars?”
“Well, if you want the Dream House and pink convertible too…”
Hiro pulled a USB cord from the figure—made it look like the doll had a pull-string—and plugged it into a nearby laptop. The laptop wallpaper was of Karen hitting Gorilla Grodd. That was cute. The angle didn’t even show off her boobs.
“With a unique blend of chemicals and ionically-charged electromagnets, I can replicate the initial connection the Flash made to the Speed Force. And…” Hiro hit a button. “Vibrate this action figure so fast it can go through walls.”
“So it is an action figure.”
Hiro shrugged. “Well, yeah. But not a doll, okay? I have some limits.”
The action figure shook itself into a blur which actually sunk a half-inch into the table where it was standing, before it slowed. Hiro picked it back up and set it down before it could get stuck in the table. “Still a work in progress.”
“If you did get it to work, how would you get it back? Wouldn’t it just fall to the center of the Earth?”
Hiro raised a finger, but said nothing for a moment. “That’s also a work in progress.”
Karen crossed her arms. “Look, Hiro, this is all great, and I hate to spoil it, but there’s something I just have to know. Or, really, see.”
Hiro jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “You want a look at the Superman robots? I build all of Superman’s robots. He doesn’t do it. Guy wouldn’t know a T-800 from a T-1000.”
“No, Hiro. I want to see my robot.”
***
A bit gratifyingly, Hiro didn’t just keep it out in the open where anyone could see it. It was in a special vault under the building that took Karen’s JLA authentication to let her in. She waited patiently while various sensors double-checked her identity. As if anyone else could have her chest measurements.
“It’s not like it was a sexbot,” Hiro was explaining. “They were purely aesthetic. Muses, really. Fan art.”
“They?” Karen asked, as a laser swept over her chest for the fourth time. “Yes, they’re real.”
The vault door finally swung open, letting them into a narrow, darkened space. Karen got the impression that Hiro didn’t do much work down here. There were cobwebs and a fine layer of dust.
Hiro changed the subject. “I keep some of the more dangerous stuff here. Look, here’s an old body of Metallo’s.” Hiro picked up a headset hanging from a post in front of the chrome husk of Superman’s arch-enemy, the green eyes currently lifeless. Putting the headset on, he tried to make the Metallo body boot up—servos whirring, circuit boards powering on, metal muscle whining up—but the whole thing abruptly went dead. “I’ve almost got it working—if I could figure it out, I might be able to build a cybernetic bypass for quadriplegics to use their arms and legs again…”
“Uh-huh. Show me the robo-sluts.”
Wincing, Hiro went to a stained old tarp. “I haven’t even powered them up in ages…” And, that said, he pulled the cover away. Arranged like statues were copies of herself, Starfire, Wonder Girl, and…
“Raven? Really? Were you just going for a Titans theme or do you actually think Casper The Friendly Goth is on my level?”
He blinked at her.
“I’m just saying, if you’re going to clone Scarlet Johansson, Eva Green, and Angelina Jolie, you don’t throw in Gwyneth Paltrow for the hell of it.”
Karen looked over her robot double. It looked a lot better than most ‘fan art’ of her did—at least its back wasn’t broken to show off her ass and boobs at the same time. Which was actually a possibility, here. The suit covered a double-digit percentage of her breasts and her bottom—an achievement, when people seemed to think she went around with a permanent wedgie.
“Power it up.”
Hiro ground his teeth a little. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She has some bugs…”
“So do I,” Karen snapped before thinking better of it. “In my personality, not my—look, if Superman were here, he’d say you have to take responsibility for the shit you’ve pulled. I’m not angry or anything, but I want to know…” She trailed off. “If you’re really not the same guy anymore, than it doesn’t even matter, right?”
“Alright… Power Girl, run boot sequence, victor-alpha-alpha-ten.”
Well, at least there’s not a switch, Karen thought. Her robot came online, standing up straight, facing front, and dusting herself (itself?) off a little. She canted her hips, hands on her waist, as if mimicking the Kryptonian in front of her.
“It’s not an AI,” Hiro said. “It has an RSS feed to the internet that finds footage of you and copies it.”
The Power Girl robot gave the finger to some air.
“Well, she has my charm. So c’mon, where’s the dog leash? The riding crop? Does she jump up and down on a trampoline if you tell her to?”
“It’s an action figure,” Hiro stressed. “A really big action figure for a really big nerd. Its systems are beta-grade; she couldn’t make a sandwich!”
“That the best example you could think of, hot dog?” But strangely, Karen found herself a bit mollified. She was worried it would start in on some ‘yes, master’ BS like an old episode of I Dream of Jeannie, but it was just—posing. Still creepy, and part of the male psyche she found about as relatable as the Three Stooges, but it was five years ago. If they could let reformed supervillains onto the Justice League, she could let a reformed perv… what? “So, how good a kisser is she?”
“Power Girl—“
“Call me Karen.”
“Karen, she’s not designed for oral intimacy! It’s really hard to program—hard to find test subjects.”
Karen wondered if she should be offended by that. “Well, don’t you think it’s time we bust the damn thing’s cherry?”
“Karen, wait!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I made out with an identical twin,” she said, thinking back to her time in Argo City with Supergirl. Total bitch, but the girl could fuck like there was no tomorrow.
It really was a flattering likeness. Got her eyes right, all cocky and challenging instead of the simpering fuck-me-big-boy look she supposedly sported 24/7. In one motion, Karen grabbed the robot’s head and brought their mouths together. Nice not having to stoop or lean for once; not with someone the exact same height.
At the insistence of her pink tongue, the robot’s mouth opened and Karen darted inside. It was interesting. The robot had no breath, no saliva, no gasp. She responded jerkily, like a nervous virgin, but she did respond. Maybe Hiro had some footage of Power Girl being whammied by some lust-spell to draw from. Why did that kind of shit never happen to Batman?
Hiro looked from one woman to another, a full systems crash going on behind his eyes. He didn’t notice that a hard-on was stretching the crotch of his pants into tissue.
The robot fully returned the kiss now, stroking her newly wet tongue over Karen’s lips. Karen, in turn, gripped the robot’s satiny ass right under the sheer fabric of her bodice. Wasn’t bad. Not a patch on the original, but—not bad. Her mouth sucked the robot’s tongue in and Karen gave a moan of pleasure, closing her lips around it and sucking on it like a delicate candy. She felt an explosion building in her body, set off by every little touch and held back by only the shreds of Karen’s self-control.
It was no use. Karen went boom.
So did the robot.
Karen closed her eyes instinctively, opening them a moment later to find that where the robot had been standing, there was now only a scorch-mark on the floor. Bits of her body were strewn about like clothes in a teenager’s room, and Karen herself had been bleached black by the explosion. She polished the burns off her invulnerable skin with her (mostly intact) cape, only to find that her costume hadn’t fared as well. The blast, originating at chest level, had ripped open the modest, teasing portal in front of her costume, leaving a gaping hole that laid her bare from throat to areolas.
“What the fuck was that? Look at my top! No, don’t look at my top!” Karen demanded, wiping the soot from the curve of her breasts—something she stopped once she saw how avidly Hiro was paying attention to it. “If you fucking say that there’s not much of a difference—“
“I wasn’t going to--!”
“I look like Phantom Lady, okay? Phantom Lady!”
“I remember now—it was a defensive mechanism.” Hiro scratched behind his ear. “I figured—I have these robots around—I’m not using them—so I’ll set a trap, and if someone breaks in and takes me hostage, I’ll say they’re sexbots, the guy will probably want to try one out, it’ll explode, I’ll make a witty one-liner—“
“And what if a girl breaks in and takes you hostage, poindexter?”
Hiro stopped scratching. “You suppose it would make much of a difference?”
Karen groaned.
“I mean, I have a Starfire robot…”
The ribbing on Karen’s costume, oft stretched to the limit by the combination of Karen’s lifestyle and measurements, now reached the end of what Kryptonian tailoring could accomplish. The frayed fabric gave way like a dam breaking, spilling out all forty inches (at least) of her bust.
Hiro nearly choked, seeing her virtually naked. He stared at her like he had never seen a woman before. The old robot couldn’t even hope to compare. Her breasts were huge, luscious melons, so big it now seemed impossible that they had ever fit in her scanty costume, and only finer in proportion to her thick but gently rounded belly, and the proud fur covering the sweep of her pubis, aggressive but also delicate. And yet, as large as they were, they remained firm and perky, floating up from Karen’s chest at almost a ninety degree angle.
Karen didn’t move a muscle to cover herself. She proudly thrust her tits from their ruined prison. She even posed for his admiration, hands on her hips and spine straight, parting her thighs wide enough for him to see her skimpy panties through the holes in her suit. His eyes made her feel hot wherever they went. It was like his gaze was so worshipful, it caressed her.
“Yeah, fanboy, they’re real,” she said. “Not silicone, not Atlantean magic, not advanced boob technology from the future. One hundred percent what my momma gave me.”
Hiro nodded. “Yes ma’am. Of course. Whatever you say.” He kept nodding. He would’ve nodded if Karen had asked him if he were ready for a vasectomy by laser beam. The possibility of his continuing to see her breasts was just too important to relinquish.
Crowning them were areolas that would’ve been big on another woman, the goosebumped pink as large as silver dollars, but that seemed just the right size for her firm breasts and her thimble-big nipples. Just looking at them made his lower body feel like it was made of hardened fire, his cock jutting out like an explosion made solid. It did not go unnoticed.
“That the Spear of Destiny in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
“Huh-happy to see… Spear of Destiny?” This had to stop before Hiro started to drool.
“Hey, Toyboy, eyes up front, eh?” Karen snapped her fingers. “Think you can make eye contact for five seconds?”
Hiro craned his neck until he was looking her in the eye.
“Yeah, you saw my tits, good for you. Here’s the thing. I’m starting to think it’s a bit unfair that I’m over here, rated-R, and you’re sitting pretty with a PG-13. So I want you to pull down the zip, unwrap the wang, and make this NC-17.”
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Power Girl's Boy Toy