Kim Possible Porn Story: Confessions of a Teenage Heroine – Chapter 3

Kim Possible Porn Story: Confessions of a Teenage Heroine – Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I
only own my villainesses and Shego’s parents, because apparently
Disney didn’t deem it necessary to give Shego parents in the series.

“Okay, so let’s say,
hypothetically of course, that one of your employees broke out a
friend in jail. Would they loose their job?” I asked, my feet
propped up on the desk, staring at a dozen or so computer monitors. I
hated working security.

“Not only would they loose their
job, they would go directly to jail as would their friend.”

“Hypothetically, how long would
their sentence be?”

“For you, Shego, twenty years
without chance of parole. Anyone else, I have no clue. I don’t do the
sentencing; I leave that to the judges,” I thought a minute.

“What if, hypothetically, that the
employee needed a favor. She’d get the friend out and then put her
right back in her jail cell after the favor was fulfilled.”

“Do you need help with something,
Shego?”

“I thought we were being
hypothetical,” I said innocently. Betty laughed.

“I thought we were playing twenty
questions.”

Yes, long ago, I worked for Global
Justice. Betty was short after the fiasco with the seniors (no, not
the two wealthy villains, they were seniors in high school) and I
needed some cash for a car, insurance, shopping sprees, bail bonds,
etc. So, reluctantly, she added me on as a “temp”. I’ve
been a temp for a really long time, then. I think she secretly likes
me, but doesn’t want to admit it ’cause we have too much fun
fighting. Usually I’m out and about, gathering information without
getting caught (Betty refuses to call it spying), but lately I’ve
been working for security. Sure, you blow up one nuclear power plant
in the middle of the desert and you get stuck staring at
black-and-white images all day. If you know the layout of GJ, then
you’d know that Betty’s desk overlooks the security area.

All in all, it’s an okay after school
gig. Better than flipping burgers, anyway.

“Do you have any scientists that
know how to put trucks together?” I asked, seeing someone move
down the hallways. I remained calm, hoping Betty wouldn’t notice my
sudden interest in the monitors.

“Hypothetically or literally?”
I turned around and glared at her. She smiled at me. She had both
eyes back then, and Shelldon never lost an eye (he likes one-upping
Betty like most siblings). But we’ll get to that story later,
“Hypothetically, it would be nice. Literally, no.”

“You don’t have a single person
who could build a car?!”

“When are we ever going to need
someone to build a car from scratch?”

“When your number one employee
needs one so she doesn’t get run over all the time,” Betty
squinted at me.

“Is that how you got that massive
bump on your head?” The radio on the desk crackled to life.

“Guard to security, guard to
security,” I sighed and pressed down the button.

“I’m here. What’s up?”

“We have an intruder. Black hair,
purple eyes, average height, Caucasion, female-“

“Chill out, it’s just Chloe. Send
her in,” There was a long pause, “You zapped her
unconscious didn’t you?”

“We will revive her ASAP,” I
rolled my eyes. That’s one of the things on my long Why-I-hate-GJ
list; Zap now, ask questions later.

War Hawk came in a few minutes later
surrounded by GJ hit men, looking scared out of her mind. I laughed
and rolled my eyes. It did not ease her anxiety any.

“We found this on her,” One
of the guard hit men people walked up to Betty, presenting two white
styrofoam boxes.

“Have we examined it?”

“No,” Betty put on a pair of
gloves, one of those masks dentists and doctors wear, and a pair of
tweasers. She opened the box carefully, “Did you mean to poison
one of us?” Chloe shook her head.

“No, no ma’am. I came straight
here, I didn’t do anything to it, honest. Unless it’s got e. coli…”

“What is it?” I asked. Betty
opened the lid more.

“It appears to be teriyaki,”
I groaned.

“Are you serious? She brings me
dinner and you guys think she’s trying to kill me? We’re not that
much of enemies,” I went up to her desk and took the boxes,
“You, hit men, shoo. I’ll call you if she pulls out an Uzi or
something,” They looked to Betty and she nodded. War Hawk eased
slightly when they left.

“If I have to go through all this
just to bring you dinner…I wonder what you have to go through at
the FBI agency,” she came and sat on the desk, “It’s from
that Chinese take-out place you like.”

“Oh, Chloe, you are the best!”
She smiled sheepishly.

“No. I came because I felt guilty
about yesterday,” she admitted. I laughed.

“This will be apology number what?
One hundred seventy two? It’s fine; I passed,” Her eyes widened.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
I sighed.

“What’s the point when your mother
suddenly decides to teach you a life lesson and tears apart the car
she says is yours, if it is mine,” I muttered, suddenly
realizing that was a very real possibility. She winced.

“Harsh. I’m sure Golden Arrow
could put it back together no sweat,” I gave her a
now’s-not-the-time look, “So, you started thinking about who
you’re going to take to Sadie Hawkins yet?” I shook my head.

“I think last year scarred me for
life. I did wonder why Tigress hadn’t tried to take my date from me,”
I mused, “Did we get any chopsticks?”

“Yeah,” she pulled them out
from seemingly nowhere, “Come on, Shego, you’ve got to go. It
just won’t be fun without you.”

“Only if you ask someone,”
War Hawk blushed deep red.

“No, I don’t like anyone right
now,” she murmured shyly. No one except for Hego, but she was
too afraid he’d slam her. Though I’ve hinted at least a thousand
times to him to ask her out. Then again, I could always bring up his
date with Tigress…

“We’re getting a foreign exchange
student. Maybe you could ask him.”

“How do you know that?”

“Mom.”

If there’s one thing worse than having
a supervillain for a parent, it’s them being the principal of your
school. Where most kids consider a haven from their parents, I
consider it a minefield. No detention, no bad grade, no absence slips
past Mom. But it has its ups; gossip like this hits me before anyone
else (even the teachers) and every loophole in the school system is
available to me.

&&&

“Dr. Lipsky?”

“Yeah, Shego?”

“You know anyone who can build a
car?” He looked a bit surprised; probably ’cause building cars
has little to no relevance to ATP and cell respiration. He grinned,
leaning back in his chair.

“Actually, I have a cousin who’s a
mechanic.”

“Really? Could you hook me up?”

“I never speak to him, don’t even
know where he’s living now. He’s…not all there,” he worded
carefully.

“Neither are you. Please, Dr.
Lipsky, I’m desperate,” I admitted. Nowadays I’d die before
admitting that to Dr. D.

“Well, I do know a thing or two
about cars. Maybe I could help,” he offered.

“You know how to build one from
scratch?”

“Do you have all the parts?”
Listen to us, we were sounding like a bad drug dealing movie. “You
got the money?” “Yeah, you got the stuff?”

“I think so.”

“When would it be best for me to
come over?”

“After school today,” he
looked at me dubiously.

“You sure your mother’s okay with
this?”

“Yeah, I already asked her about
it. She says it’s cool,” I lied. Mom said she’d be working late,
anyway.

“Do you mind riding in the car
with me?” He asked. I rolled my eyes.

“No, unless you violate me or
something.”

I’ve always been comfortable around
Drakken. He’s like that one guy friend you can always rely on; he’s
never been too close or too far in our relationship. I also had him
last year for science. Maybe that’s why I said it was okay; because I
knew he wasn’t that kind of guy. But still, looking back, I should
have generally been more cautious about him.

&&&

“You did it,” I said,
shocked. There, before me, assembled in about four hours, was my
first car. Well, it was a truck, a pretty new Toyota with little
mileage and did good in the miles per gallon area. Actually, I didn’t
give a crap about all this but Dr. Lipsky said it was good.

“Of course I did. I told you I’d
help you, and I did,” he said matter-of-factly, “Now, try
it out,” he ushered me to the driver’s seat.

My heart raced. My first car. I was
about to start it for the first time. I grinned, wanting to hug and
thank Dr. Lipsky until his face turned blue. I found the key on the
seat and picked it up. My hand shook from excitement as I put it into
the ignition and turned it. The truck started and then a rushing
sound.

“Shego, get out!” Dr. Lipsky
yelled. Without thinking, I got out.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a fire,” he nodded
towards the popped up hood, unbuttoning his shirt. I looked away, my
face getting hot, “It’s nothing big; my shirt should smother
it.”

It is easy to see where everything
went wrong in hindsight, but at that point in time we had no clue
what had gone wrong. Drakken had gotten some gasoline over the parts
where the chemical reactions or something go off (I still don’t get
cars that well), which was what caused the fire. Now, if I wasn’t
completely embarrassed about seeing my teacher with his shirt off, I
would’ve pointed out the fact that his cotton shirt had oil and
grease all over it.

Dr. Lipsky cursed as the fire doubled
immediately, covering the interior of the hood. He started hopping
around, screeching. And then I realized his pants were on fire.

I didn’t think about telling him to
stop, drop, and roll. I figured, hey, he’s on fire, maybe I should do
something more direct. I reached for his rear end and, as he undid
the front, I pulled down his pants. He stomped on his pants, but it
was too late. Those Levis were a casualty of failure.

“Do you have a fire extinguisher?”
He asked.

“Yeah, I’ll go get it,” I
said, covering my eyes as I ran. It was too late. I had seen his rear
and his upper body, thankfully nothing more. It was not what I
expected; he looked like a lanky guy. But, underneath, he had some
muscle. I was hating myself for thinking this way, he was my teacher
for goodness sakes, but even I couldn’t deny…he had the finest
hindquarters of any man I had and have ever seen.

I grabbed the fire extinguisher, now
as red as the metallic container, and headed back for the garage. I
heard the door open and shut.

“Hey, Shego. Why do you have the
fire extinguisher?” Mom asked suspiciously.

“Cartroublemomnothingtoworryabout,”
I said in one breath. She shrugged, this must’ve been an acceptable
excuse in her eyes, and went to the kitchen to get a drink.

Just when I thought I was out of the
doghouse, I heard Mego running towards us.

“Mom! There’s a man in his
underwear in the garage!” He yelled.

“A man in his what where?!”
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. My heart started banging against my rib cage.
She was going to see Dr. Lipsky, bearing all, in the garage. I would
be grounded forever, not to mention trying to explain why he was
underdressed…

We got to the garage. The fire was
still blazing, but Dr. Lipsky was no where to be seen. Not even his
inferno pants or shirt.

“He was right here!” Mego
insisted. Mom looked around the garage.

“Honey, have you been in Mommy’s
medicine cabinet?”

“No, he was here, honest!”
Mego exclaimed.

“I was here and I didn’t see a
naked man,” I said. Well, I had been here and he hadn’t been
completely naked. Mom sighed.

“Put it out, Shego. Mego, we’re
going to go call up the family therapist.”

That night, I had horrible nightmares
about Dr. Lipsky running through Washington D.C. in his tidey whites
singing the barbie girl song and dancing with Rosie O’Donnell. To
this day, I have no clue how he snuck out without Mom or anyone else
catching him. To this day, we tease Mego about “seeing things”.
And to this day, neither Drakken nor I talk about that day when I
became, er, very comfortable around him.

&&&&&

Hee, hee, Drakken’s a briefs guy. I’m
starting to wonder if I need to make this T because of cartoon
underwearity. Anyway, please review.

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