Kim Possible Porn Story: Confessions of a Teenage Heroine Chapter 4

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.

“Come on, Shego. Today’s your
freebie,” Tigress taunted me. I glanced at her behind the wheel.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Come on!” A guy behind
Tigress yelled.

“I’m just being generous. You got
your license the other day,” I narrowed my eyes.

“How would you know that?”

“I’ve got sources. Don’t you want
to take advantage of my generosity?” While she was talking, I
went for it. Her car had a terrific 0 to 30 time.

I staggered away, leaving my pride
plastered to her windshield like a bug.

Why did she have to be like that? I
mean, I was on good terms with everyone else I fought against. She
couldn’t still be ticked that I stole her cookie back in pre-k, but
that’s the only thing I could think of when I was the antagonist.
Well, once I figured out my truck, then maybe she’d stop running me
over.

I was glancing around for my friends
when I saw him. He was glancing around frantically, clutching his
textbooks to his chest. He was of Spanish descent (don’t call me
racist; I’m just stating the facts), with dark brown skin and black
hair. I hadn’t seen him around before and he was really cute.

“Go back to your own country!”
I heard a jock yell at him, shoving him to the ground. He walked away
laughing with his friends. On hero instincts, I was on my knees
helping him gather his things.

“Gracias,” he said
gratefully.

“De nada,” I teased. He
looked into my eyes. His were chocolate brown and gorgeous. He looked
excited.

“Perdon, tu sabes esta el clase de
matematicas?” He asked. In translation; excuse me do you know
where the math class is? I took his schedule.

“Ay, Senor Powell, que lastima!
Dobla a la derecha,” I pointed down the hall and to the right,
“y camina a la derecho hasta numero 206,” Oh, Mr. Powell,
what a shame! Turn right and walk straight until number 206.

“Mucho gracias! Cual es tu
nombre?” Much thanks, what is your name?

“Soy Shego. Y tu?” I’m Shego,
and you? The bell rang before he could answer.

“Perdon,” he said again,
pointing at the papers of his I had. I laughed and glanced down
before he took them.

My heart pounded in my chest. His name
was Jesus.

&&&

“Lookee there!” Mischief
cried in a southern accent, looking at a poster near our lunch table.

“Sound of Music play, sounds
interesting. You should try out, Shego,” War Hawk encouraged.

“Come on, everyone knows
Mischief’s going to get the main role,” I made an excuse.
Mischief grinned, but was quick to say in a supportive, motherly
voice.

“There’s always supporting roles.”

“Shego, to the principal’s office,
Shego,” The intercom crackled to life, cutting the conversation
thankfully short.

“Ohhh, Shego’s in trouble,”
Metaphor teased. I hit her in the back of the head.

“I’ll be right back, guys, this
shouldn’t take long,” I promised. I walked by Hego’s lunch
group.

“Sounds like someone found the
person who shut down the system during electronic testing,” Hego
sing-songed. I glared at him.

“The story is Electronique
shut down the system during electronic test, right?” I hissed.
He shrugged.

“All I’m saying is the principal
knows things,” I snorted.

“Please, me and the principal are
like this,” I crossed my fingers. I did have some news for the
principal, anyway.

I walked down the hallway and into the
office without a second look. I was usually in here once a week at
the least. I was the “troublemaker”, or so they thought.
Ms. Ogden looked up from her bookkeeping.

“Hello, Shego. She’s waiting for
you,” she grumbled. I tipped my imaginary hat and walked into
the office.

“And you said I’d never amount to
anything,” I laughed, entering the principal’s office. Mom was
sitting behind a desk with a name plate stating “Mrs. Go”,
unrolling a Subway sandwich.

“What great achievement did you
accomplish today? Put your shoes on the right feet? Remembered to put
your name on your test?” Mom said sarcastically.

“Better, though I did do those
things as well. I helped Jesus today,” I pulled up a chair. Mom
gave me half of the sandwich.

“God’s one and only son?” Mom
asked dubiously. I nodded.

“It said so on his papers. You
know what this means, don’t you?”

“Enlighten me.”

“It means I have an “in”
with Our Lord and Savior. So when Rapture time rolls around, He’s
going to be up there with God and he’s going to say, “Shego
helped me when I needed help. I think she should be with Us.”

“Shego…”

“You know, I never really pictured
Jesus as Hispanic, but now I’m glad I took Spanish I.”

“Shego!”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t
Jesus,” I looked at her confused.

“But, on the papers…”

“In Hispanic culture, Jesus is a
common name. But it’s not pronounced like Jesus; it’s pronounced
“hey-zeus”, like you’re saying hi to a Roman god,” I
looked away.

“Oh.”

“If it helps, he is a new student
from Spain, so that’s your good deed for today,” Mom patted me
on the shoulder. I glared at her.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“On the inside, I’m laughing
hysterically at your cultural mistake, but right now I’m trying to be
an understanding parent,” She was probably taking parenting
classes again (she failed the first time to me and my brothers’
amusement).

She propped her legs gracefully on her
desk.

“We should go out tonight, just
you and me. A girl’s night out,” Oh great. I knew exactly what
she meant by “girl’s night out”.

&&&

“Well, this is certainly something
I can put on my resume. Skills: computer savvy, legible
handwriting…thievery,” I muttered, grabbing a stick of gum off
the cashier’s counter.

“Shut up, Shego, we’re bonding,”
Mom hissed. I rolled my eyes. My idea of bonding; going to a movie,
shop around the mall, have a nice dinner during which we have a
heartfelt discussion, maybe delve into her past or my questions. My
mom’s idea of bonding; teaching me how to steal, kidnap, and
otherwise be her successor in her role as crime lordess.

I don’t wish that my family was
normal. I just wish my parents would have legal activities.

“First thing every villain needs?”
She quizzed me as we walked nonchalantly through the sporting goods
store as though it was open. Mom had tried to teach me how to undo
the security system, but I had been talking to War Hawk on my
cellphone and not paying attention.

“A base of operations,” I
said, unwrapping the gum. Mom shook her head.

“You’re a nomad, never stay in one
place for too long.”

“A plot?” I asked, popping
the gum in my mouth.

“That’s Phase 2,” Phases?
What was up with villains and phases? I followed her to where the
grappling hooks were, “Why are we here, Shego?”

“Because you dragged us here?”

“Tools, Shego, step one is basic
tools!” I sighed.

“Don’t we already have all this
crap?”

“That’s not the point, Shego. The
point is to give you experience, something you can’t just buy,”
she glanced over at me hooking my cheek like I was a fish. I smiled.

She smacked me in the back of the
head, cutting my inner cheek.

“Ow!” I yelped.

“Eyes wide, Shego, especially to
people who can hurt you,” she muttered, examining a Swiss army
knife, “Would it kill you to show some ethusiasm for my
passion?”

“Mom, I’m not going to be a
villain as long as Hego has a say. This is never going to be relevant
to me,” Little did I know… Mom sighed.

“‘Kay, then, let’s act like our
family’s the Go City mafia. You are born into it, therefore you have
no choice. I brought you into this world, Shego. A little gratitude
would be nice. Think that’s it for this store…” She shot up
into the skylight we had entered through. I was probably going to get
caught for this, hauled off to juvie, share a cell with Golden
Arrow…

That was it! If I couldn’t break into
jail to get Golden Arrow, then I would break out of it with her. I
hit the silent alarm.

“Still in there, wounded
tortoise?” Mom called.

“Yeah, just a minute, I, um, saw
something really cool.”

“It’s not like we have a roast in
the oven or something to get back to,” Mom muttered.

I idled around, examining the guns,
testing each one out.

“Woun-ded tor-toise,” Mom
sang.

“I’m having a hard time deciding,”
I whined.

“We can come back; I have to put
the twins to bed soon,” she said, glancing at her watch.

And then, the sirens sounded.

In a few minutes, I had my hands up in
the air, at gunpoint…and quite a few open-mouthed cops.

&&&

“I know how you think, Shego. You
don’t think I do, but I do,” Betty said right off the bat. I
felt loved as, instead of my mother, the head of GJ came to bail me
out, “You’re the one who set off the silent alarm, hoping for a
free ride to juvie to bust your friend out. Well, you aren’t getting
it.”

“Don’t I need to be punished?”
I asked, leaning back in my chair in the interrogation room. Only
place to talk without a sheet of glass between us.

“Yes. You’re going back to that
store tomorrow, when the owner is there, return the items you stole
and apologize to him face to face,” I doubted he wanted the
gum…

“It is kind of scary how you get
into my mind like that,” I commented. She smirked.

“I have an evil twin. I need to
know how minds work unless I want to be outsmarted,” she
straightened up, “However, I do have a way you can free your
friend,” I leaned forward.

“I’m listening.”

“Sheldon and I are assembling
baseball teams. If you and whatever team you create wins, I’m sure I
can find a loophole, get your comrade off the hook,” I grinned.

“Sounds like a bet,” I said.
This was going to be easy.

&&&&&

Yeah, the Spanish grammar is horrible,
but I don’t know how to make accents and upside-down question
marks/exclamation marks with Wordpad. I’ve been spending the past
month trying to figure it out (Google translator occasionally
misspells and my Flypen hates my handwriting), so for you analyzers
DO NOT COMMENT ON THE SPANISH GRAMMER OR I’LL SEND TIGRESS TO SLIT
YOUR THROAT. Please review.