Tell her what the agency said about you not fighting crime

“Uh, well, not crime fighting, I guess. The lady at Sidekicks Inc said that you’d do all of that and I would, uh…” You look around at all the imposing Amazons. This needs to be phrased delicately. “She said my job was to… help you relieve stress.”

Wonder Girl smiles angelically. “Oh, that sounds great! Just wait here and we’ll go somewhere after the party.”

You sit in a folding chair and watch the party. The gift giving is kind of fascinating, you can never guess which Amazon will give Wonder Girl a stuffed animal and which will give her a longbow. Mostly you just watch your heroine. Her blue jeans and red/gold tank top aren’t what you usually think of as a costume, but she looks damn good in them.

When the party finally ends the blonde teenager leads you out. She seems extremely eager for what comes next. Outside the embassy, she gets behind you and says, “Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at this,” and puts her hands under your armpits.

You feel a tug and the two of you are airborne. You fly over the city, amazed at how easily the slim girl carries you.

Soon you start to descend. Wonder Girl sets you on your feet gently. You look around and see that the street she chose is almost entirely clothing and jewelry stores.

“Come on,” says the blonde girl.

“Um, what are we doing?”

“Shopping, of course. You said your job was to relieve stress, so I’m gonna shop and you’re gonna pay.”

“What?! I’m gonna pay for your shopping spree?”

“Well, yeah.” Again she flashes that angelic smile. “I know all about Sidekicks Inc. You have to pay something like a million bucks to get assigned a hot superheroine to work for. So don’t pretend you’re not rich.”

She grabs your hand and drags you in the nearest boutique. You start to argue, but her bouncing ass in front of you makes you reconsider. Besides, she’s right, you can afford to be her sidekick sugar daddy.

Dozens of stores and hours of shopping later, your mind threatens to dribble out of your left ear. A half dozen bags weigh down your arms as the perpetually energetic blonde bounces past yet another shelf full of colorful slacks.

“Wonder Girl?”

“Hmm?”

You drop the bags out of exhaustion. “This really isn’t what I was meant to be doing.”

She gives you a sly grin. “Oh really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I thought I would be helping you fight crime, but when the lady at the agency said that wasn’t my job, she told me…”

Wonder Girl crosses her arms. She looks like she’s trying to hold back laughter. “She said you were supposed to help me with stress, right? So exactly what kind of stress are you supposed to help me unleash?”

You try to think of a smooth way of saying it, but nothing comes to you. “Pent up… you know… sexual … energy...”