Goldie the SuperHero Ch. 02

"Number three, you will grant any special request I make of you in the future, especially to aid me in my crime fighting. Other than that, you will go back to your lives as you had known them. Lastly, you will take Jozef in to be arrested and make sure he never leaves prison. Any questions?"

"No," they both said in unison.

"Great. One, two, three," I said with a clap of my hands.

Instantly the two men snapped out of their serum-induced daze. When they saw me standing in front of them, both men instantaneously developed rock-hard erections. The sexual drive I sentenced Jozef to had already caused his dick to rise to full mast.

"What just happened here?" the mayor asked, no longer able to remember anything from the last hour.

"Jozef realized he met his match," I said. "He is the criminal mastermind behind the threat to the city, and the brainwashing crimes. I have ordered him to surrender to you two," I said nonchalantly. "He has agreed to confess to everything," I added.

"I will make sure he never again sees the light of day," Chief Johnson answered as he took Jozef by the arm. He pulled his handcuffs out and locked his wrists behind his back. The mayor grabbed the serum for evidence. He would make sure it would be destroyed, never again to manipulate people in such a devious way.

"I'll leave you to your work," I said, hiding two vials of the serum behind my back. "Let me know if something else comes up, and you can rest assured that Goldie is hot on it."

Like Pavlov's dog, both men's bodies immediately shook as their pants filled with jizz in response to my embedded phrase "Goldie is hot." They tried to act like nothing had just happened, but the front of their pants gave them away. I'm going to enjoy this little game.

Chief Johnson's police car carrying the three men disappeared down the long road from the water treatment plant. Due to my quick thinking, persuasive action and superpowers, the city was saved from another evil villain. I grabbed the small vial and headed home. I was ready for a quiet night with a bottle of wine.

EPILOGUE

The next morning I called the prestigious law offices that employed the star paralegal I had come to know on a first name basis as Candy. "Please tell her it's the mayor's office," I lied.

Candy eagerly answered the phone. "This is Candy."

"Candy, this is Goldie the Superhero. I need to meet you for lunch today," I said.

"You're alive?" she answered shocked. "I thought, I thought..." her words faded as tears of guilt poured down her cheeks. She had been overwhelmed the last few days at the thought she kicked my ass and left me in the street to die, in order to hide her secret life.

"I'm very much alive," I said.

"I'm so sorry," she answered. "But you can't ever call me," she added, still fearful her distinguished world as an up and coming paralegal would collide with her nighttime alter ego of a high-priced drug-addicted escort. "I can't meet for lunch. I have another obligation," she lied. "You will never call here again," she demanded.

"Not true," I answered. "If you hang up I will call right back, but I won't be asking for you," I said. "I will be asking for your boss.'

"Please, you can't do this to me," she begged in a whisper.

"Yes I can, and I am. I'm not calling to make your life harder," I said. "I am calling to help you. Meet me at noon at your car. It will take ten minutes."

"You know my car?" she said, not remembering anything about that night after the moment she snorted the coke with my power belt.

"I know your car. I know your name. I know where you live. Meet me downstairs at your car at noon or your boss' office ten minutes after." I hung up the phone.

Candy showed up frazzled but promptly at noon in the parking lot below the distinguished law offices.

"Let's talk inside the car," I said.

Candy was understandably fearful. Her mind spun for why I wanted to meet. She worried her double-life would be exposed and everything she worked so hard for would be lost. Her company had a no tolerance policy for drug use. She kept trying to say no to the cocaine, but it just wouldn't listen.

"Please, don't expose me. I'll do anything," she begged.

"That's what I understand," I answered to bring some levity. "For the right price."

"Please, what do you want?" she begged. 'I'll do it," she said with a sultry glance up and down my body.

"The answer to one question," I explained. "If given the choice to continue your addiction to cocaine or never touch it again, which would you choose?"

"I've tried to quit," she started. "I want to quit. I just cant."

"I didn't ask you about the past," I said, interrupting her. "I'm asking about right now. I'm asking about your future."

"Shit," she said. "I wish I didn't need it, but I do."

"If you want, and do exactly as I tell you right now, I guarantee you will never touch another gram."

Candy was shocked at the claim. "I spend every night doing anything people want me to do to support my habit. I'd owe you big time." Tears streamed down her face at the thought.

"You do exactly as I say, and I'll take you up on that," I confirmed with a friendly grin.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Because I can," I said. I opened one of the vials of serum I snuck from the water treatment plant the night before. "Drink this," I said.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It is harmless, except to your addiction to cocaine. Drink it and do exactly what I tell you."

She emptied the vial like a shot of whiskey. Warm sparks ignited throughout her body from the serum's affect. The serum opened her mind to the power of my words.

"Candy, you will never again want or use cocaine. The thought of it repulses you. You'll never again turn another trick to get money for it. You will immediately flush any cocaine you have. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Also, since you brought it up and just for fun, any request I ever make of you in the future, you will gladly fulfill. Everything else in your life is the same. Any questions?"

"No," she said.

"That's it," I said. "You're done with cocaine, and, you owe me."

Candy took an internal inventory of her usual feelings of addiction that always lurked deep within her. They were gone.

"Thank you Goldie," she said, as tears poured down her face. "I don't know what to say."

"Say 'yes' anytime I ever ask you for anything," I said with a genuine smile. Her skills at night were infamous for what she was capable of to surpass people's sexual expectations. I wondered what her new open-ended commitment to me might mean for me in the years ahead.

My next stop was a visit to Stacy. I knocked on her door late enough in the evening to be assured she was home. She opened the door, and immediately looked embarrassed when she saw me. As hard as she tried, she was still confused why she woke up naked on top of my nude body with both of us covered in flour in her wrecked apartment. None of it made any sense.

"Look, its probably better if you weren't here," she said. "I don't know you, you don't know me, I don't know what happened."

"I know you Stacy," I said.

"Do I know you?" she asked. "How do you know my name?"

"I not only know your name, but I know what happened and I know how much you love a good Cosmopolitan martini," I said, holding up a travel pitcher and two glasses. Cliff gave me the information about the martini. "If you let me come in for just a few minutes, I can explain what happened over a martini and be on my way."

Stacy was eager to make sense of the bizarre incident, and was convinced a martini couldn't hurt. She also felt reassured that I must know her somehow if I knew her name and her preference for a good Cosmopolitan. "Sure, come in," she said. As I walked in, I was glad to see the apartment put back together after our afternoon battle. "Have a seat," she added, pointing to the couch. I filled the two glasses with martinis.

"This would be really great with olives, if you have them," I suggested. I knew she would. While she went to the kitchen to get them, I emptied the contents of the second vial into her martini and mixed it around with the stirrer. She returned promptly with the olives.

"A toast," I said, lifting my glass. Stacy lifted hers, clinked it with mine and emptied it down her throat before I said anything.

"That was easy," I thought to myself, watching her swallow the spiked drink. Warm sparks shot throughout her body.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"I have some simple instructions for you Stacy." I could see the serum was having its immediate affect. "First, you suddenly have a new interest in and attraction for the city's chief of police, Cliff Johnson. You are willing to do anything to get and keep his attention. You will call his office in the morning and ask to have lunch with him to get to know each other better. Secondly, you are glad he has a close friendship with me, Goldie the Superhero, and gladly support the fact we fuck each other on occasion. You realize it is purely platonic and no threat to your relationship with him. You are even convinced that your relationship with him is somehow better because he and I fuck whenever we want. Thirdly, just for fun, every time I come up in conversation with Cliff, you will feel compelled to say, 'I think Goldie is hot.'" I smiled at my addition of that little piece, and the reaction it would cause for Cliff every time she said it. "Lastly, you no longer remember anything about us being naked on top of each other in your apartment, nor will you remember this conversation when I leave. Understand?"

"Yes," she said.

"Wonderful. My work is done here. We'll have to get together again sometime," I said, certain we would.

"Sounds good," Stacy said, no longer concerned about the previous strange events in her apartment.

I walked out the door, glad for the loose ends being tied up.

The night was young. I thought it would be a good time to stop by Cliff's to let him know the good news of Stacy's call in the morning, and to see what else might happen until then.

It's been a good week, but tomorrow is another day.