The following is a work of fiction intended for adult entertainment. The author hereby declares any and all elements contained herein that maybe construed as of original creation to be works of public domain. Rook.

ICON AND HOTTIE #3

1.

Peter Small looked down at the miniscule member cupped in his shaking palm and stopped screaming long enough to shout, “what the hell have you done to me! It’s, it’s… SMALL! You’ve shrunk it!” Peter tore his gaze off the painful sight and glared over at the super villainess, who now was calling herself DNA. She had a look caught between bemusement and indifference on her beautiful yet unsettling face, but seeing his fierce stare she leaned forward and peered down with some passing interest at the tiny pecker lying inert in his palm. “You were suppose to make it bigger! Not shrink it down to this! It’s no bigger than my pinkie now! It use to be a decent sized twelve incher!”

“More like nine inches,” the villainess of so many names; Zara, Doctor Gene, The Gene Genie, and now DNA, snorted in disdain. “Besides I told you there would be risks in trying to wield an Adonis gene onto a non-Adonis male.”

“But you never said it would result in shrinking my penis!”

“You’re lucky it didn’t kill you.”

“Death I could have handled, but this!!!” He could only wave his hand over the tinny penis he stared in wide mouth disbelief at. “You did this on purpose you fucking bitch!”

“Watch yourself! Little man! Or I may just give you two tiny arms to match that little pecker of yours!”

Peter could only shudder and collapse back onto the little converted gas station lab’s lone piece of furniture, a bedraggled ratty couch and moan. “I can never win her now. I might as well just kill myself.” His depression out matched his fear of the somewhat unstable villainess he had somewhat unwittingly let himself become entangled with in his pursuit of trying to match himself to the inherent demands of the super heroine Flare.

DNA threw back her head and laughed, “oh please. You have so little faith in my abilities. Come on now, buck up. You are failing to realize the most important thing; are you ‘horny’?”

Peter frowned over at the smiling costumed psychopath and mumbled, “yes. In fact I have never felt this ‘randy’ in my entire life.”

“Excellent!” Squealed DNA. “Almost every Adonis gene super hero has the stamina, the large penis, the physical strength, the endurance, in short; the ability to satisfy an Aphrodite gene super heroine, but none of the lust, the passion, the sexual need, to make any use what so every out of all of that! No matter what a woman dose, it just lays there like taffy refusing to answer to any pulling summons what so ever! That I have managed to splice an Adonis gene into your genome and you managing to retain your lusts and desires is the biggest hurdle that our task faced!”

“But-” Peter looked back down on his tiny penis in confusion.

“As far as the size goes, we can easily fix that in our next several sessions. I have a stretcher machine, for want of a better term, for all of that!” The super villainess grinned, her lavender left eye and blue right eye so hypnotically glittering.

“UGH! Stretching?!” Peter quickly covered up his little male member with both hands. “That sounds incredibly painful.”

“Oh yes! It will be!” DNA laughed and drool speckled her lips. “And we had better get started,” DNA carefully pulled aside Peter’s guarding hands, “as it would seem that we have a LONG way to go.” DNA gave Peter a salacious wink and broad open mouth smile as she lead the shaking man back to the giant machines cocoon seat he had just awoken and emerged from.

The villainess carefully strapped him back into the chair and blew him a kiss as she thumbed the button and lowered the housing over him sealing him inside, where a sleeping mist quickly enveloped him. “This is so perfect!” Howled the guffawing DNA. “He doesn’t remember a thing about my transforming him into the insatiable raping super villain Cock Robin! With just a whisper of the secret subliminal code word he goes into his trance and finds a discrete place and changes into his costume and transforms into that huge cocked raping monster! Another code word transforms him back into Peter Small! And the best part, he never remembers any of it! An added bonus is that transformed back into Peter Small his cock shrinks down to a pathetic little snail! Yet with every inch I can enlarge it in his Peter Small form it will add another four inches to his Cock Robin form! Oh my, this is just perfect! He’ll be begging me to stretch and mold and shape his cock into at least a respectable twenty incher, and my Gosh! What a monster his Cock Robin will have in response to that!” DNA giggled and wiped the drool off her small chin. “With an Adonis super villain fuck monster running around the city rapping every woman in sight, it will keep every horny Aphrodite gene super heroine desperately chasing after him, and leave me all the world to bustle in! HA!” DNA gleamed into the little glass portal at the sleeping man, her saliva dripped off her trembling lower lip and splattered down upon her mirrored glazed needy face, “and there are the ‘fringe benefits’ of having ones own little sex slave that will obey instantly every command I give him!” Hehehe, “Though I must admit it is hard to be around him for long and remain…rational, as even in his Peter Small form he releases a potent pheromone that triggers every nearby Aphrodite gene super woman’s much hungry impossible to feed nor sate long damned up sexual lusts! As Cock Robin it is even ten times as strong! And yet that is nothing compared to the impact those pheromones are having on the entire city of non-Aphrodite women in a ten mile radiance! Why they must be just stewing in their collective juices!” DNA licked her lips and rubbed her gloved hands over the surface of the sealed cocoon containing her prized distraction, “speaking of which, I wonder just how ‘big’ we can go in our first, err, session!” DNA spun a knob to her right and a scream issued from the capsule, “Wow! If this boy can take it, I may just produce something ‘interesting’ in a week or two.” The shrieks mingled with the echoes of her lust crazed laughter and reverberated off the walls of the lonely abandoned garage as lights flickered and danced with the burning tingling spark of popping ozone.

2.

The downtown police precinct was packed with women. Everyone of which was in an excited anxious trembling nervous agitation that had them in body and voice jostling and pacing about in a constant dazed distraction, not the least of which were the half dozen super heroines who oblivious to their own and every other woman’s obvious overwhelmingly sexually aroused states, impatiently stood with hips thrust and quivering, awaiting the newest report of the serial rapist Cock Robin, who had maddenly seemed to just vanish into thin air!

“Every super heroine in the city is here!” Groaned Flare in a dejected frustration. She placed her gloved fist upon her giddy hip, which like every other woman’s in the cramped station, obliviously humped the air slightly, in a quiver reminiscent of the inquiring nose of a blood hound. Flare was wearing her new costume, which consisted of an eye mask of mirrored chrome rimmed in black, black elbow length gloves trimmed in sliver and thigh high skin tight black boots trimmed in sliver as well. On her hourglass frame she wore a set of breast binder bands and butt binder bands. These consisted in the first, to be an ‘O’ ring shaped stretchy thin band of material which slipped over both of Flare’s enormous pert breasts, squeezing them tightly were they joined to her slim rib cage, so as to send her large chest jutting outward, thrusting it before her. A small thin band of the same stretchy black material attached to either side of the ‘O’ ring, then made the taut circuit around and across her breasts, digging tightly into her hug mounds of soft flesh and stretching across but not doing much in covering up her two large erect puffy raised auroras and nipples. Thus her top looked like an ‘O’ with a line drawn through it. Her bottom was of identical construction and it slipped over her large ample buttocks, tightly clamping at the base of each perfect fleshy sphere, with the tiny tight band running down her cheeks cleft. There it was joined by a small protrusion of stiffened material which continued its journey along her soft nether folds, splitting deeply the soft mound of her labia, and rising briefly in a fanning crest which tried to sheepishly cover her clitoris and unshaved groin but failed to do so, and which was adorned with a large black enameled ‘F’ badge upon the silver black trimmed material.

“What is SHE doing here?!” Hottie scowled at the red, white, and blue bikini clad tiara wearing super heroine standing amongst several flash bulb snapping photographers. “This isn’t even her city!” Hottie pouted into the loud chaotic throng of women, crossing her arms over her J-cup breasts. Her costume was identical to Flares, except the color motif was yellow and red and she had a large red ‘H’ monogrammed on her shimmering crotch panel.

“She should find her own super monster cock villain!” Flare snarled and joined Hottie in crossing her arms under her large breasts.

Both super heroines, dropped their frowns and inched through the throng to listen intently to another eye witness giving her deposition to one of the few frazzled male police men sweatily trying to do their duty amongst the increasingly savagely horny horde of lusty women.

A frantic police sketch artiest unrolled the several sheets of large sketch pad paper he had rapidly tapped together and the roll of paper crashed off his desk hit the floor and unrolled between Hottie and Flare’s wide stance stiletto heeled boots. He looked questioningly at the young women in the chair across his desk from him and she looked up from the yard of paper covering his desk and water falling off it and rushing out lying on the floor and said quietly, “you’re going to need more paper.” The entire room broke out in low moans! “How BIG?!” a lone quivering voice whimpered in the brief hush which followed.

“Ladies, ladies! Don’t panic! We will find this fiend and see that he is justly punished!” The raven haired super heroine in the red, white, and blue costume shouted to the ever increasingly agitated buzzing crowd milling about the police station.

“We need to hit the streets and find this monster before she dose!” Hottie hissed to Flare who nodded savagely in agreement.

“Excuse me,” Flare turned to a worried looking dazed police man. “Can you tell me where the last Cock Robin sighting was located at?” Before the man could answer her, her over excited nipples now fed the last stimulus of the mental image of what that unrolled scroll of drawing paper implied, already so pert and hard as to have raised up the tiny bit of her stressed fabric top so one could see daylight looking down at either side of the tent poles of her nipples lifting up and free the confining costume, proved with her spoken shuddering breath too much and the top rolled rapidly forward over the mountains of her quaking breasts and shot like a rubber band off her enormous tits and slapped the shocked police officer in the face with such force that he fell backwards and was instantly engulfed by the throng of pressing women! “Oh dear!” Flare bent and quickly retrieved her top which had rebounded and landed at her booted feet.

Hottied grabbed her elbow as the flustered super heroine struggled to put her top back on, “never mind those worthless men, honey! Let’s trust to our superior instincts as women and do this on our own!” With Flare in hapless juggling tow, Hottie maneuvered them out of the congested mad house and through the great double doors of the brick building, where they swam like salmon up a stream of lusty eyed slack jawed drooling women who continued to struggle to press themselves through into the already packed precinct, to the almost empty street beyond!

4.

“Err, so what the hell happened to your costume?” Peter Small glanced down at Icon’s white skin tight neigh indestructible body suit crotch which had been hurriedly patched up with several pieces of silver duck tape.

“Don’t ask,” whined Icon. “Where have you been for the past few days? You’re suppose to be my agent and friend. And why on earth didn’t you fix those girls costumes?”

“OH! The costumes!” Peter slapped his forehead and peeked open one cautious eye over at his friend. “So was it like world war three?”

“Not entirely… they seemed to be ,err, supportive of your effort. But where have you been? There’s a mad man on the lose raping women into orgasmic near death! He’s an Adonis gene super villain apparently, and you know what happens to a normal woman who comes in contact with an Adonis gene’s sperm? They go into endless sexual orgasms! Without treatment, they soon die from it! Horrible! Just terrible such a creature could even exist!” Icon and Peter swerved to avoid the first pedestrian they had come across on the nearly deserted city streets, and elderly woman who held a pair of binoculars in one of her arthritic hands and was wheezing into a handheld world war two era walkie-talkie clutched in the other, “No sign of ‘big bingo’ yet! Tell them that I am heading toward seventh street in response to Abigail’s sighting!” She shoved Peter out of her way, who hadn‘t apparently moved fast enough, “move it asshole! Woman on a mission here!”

Peter frowned after the snarling geriatric, who produced a breath spray from her purse and shot a blast into her mouth before reclaiming her walkie-talkie from her coat pocket as she weaved around the corner and vanished from sight, “what the hell is going on in this city?!”

“I just told you! A super villain is terrorizing the city! Everyone is gripped in fear! The whole city is falling apart into chaos and ruin!” Icon waved wildly amongst the empty city streets.

“Yeah,” Peter looked around him at the deserted silent city. “Sure looks that way. Fear, chaos, yep. Where’s Flare and Hottie?”

“Where do you think? Out there looking for the criminal! And wearing those not very appropriate costumes of yours, I might add!” Icon gave Peter his classic disapproving look!

Peter took his hands out of the front pockets of his pants and used them to shrug before reinserting them into his blazer pockets. “Why aren’t you out there helping them eh, if this guy is so dangerous?”

It was Icons turn to wilt in his looks and he glanced down at the patched crotch of his costume and mumbled, “I had another emergency to attend to when that call came in.”

Peter frowned at the somewhat surly smug look that his friend suddenly adopted on his raised chiseled chin face, “what the hell is going on around here? I’m gone a few days and everything just goes coo-kooky.”

“First we should find Hottie and Flare, they might be in serious trouble!” Icon jabbed the sky with his pointing finger. “Then we locate this vile creature and bring his disgusting reign of terror to an end!” He smacked his ham sized fist resoundingly into his other open hand.

Peter shrugged in vapid agreement, he had ‘bigger’ problems preoccupying his mind of late. Just then his cell phone rang and he answered it. Before he could even bark his usual hello, his eyes glazed and he clicked shut the phone. “I have to go.”

“What are you talking about?! What about the girls? I thought we were going to find -” but Icon was talking at his friends rapidly vanishing back and he stopped and scratched his cowl. “That’s odd. And while my upbringing and manners are of such that I would never willingly eavesdrop upon another’s privet conversation, my super hearing could not but over hear that phone call that set my friend so hurriedly on his way. Strange and inexplicable for all it consisted of was a low female voice saying; ‘cock-a-doddle-doo’?!” Icon paused there in the deserted street, a distant siren wailing forlorn in tattered echoes and then slowly began to follow after his strangely acting friend.