You screw up.

You spend the day getting the apartment organized. Cleaning up doesn’t take long, but the fan mail you have to go through is immense. One room of her apartment is an office, and a corner of the office is filled with seven mail bags as big as you are.

Organizing the fan mail is fairly easy. Business offers go in the trash, letters from people in need go on her desk.

The vast majority are just adoring fans telling her how much they love her, and sometimes how much they want to fuck her. Power Girl told you she doesn’t even need to read these and instructed you to just mail back a form letter and a picture from a stack of them she signed earlier.

The pictures are a bit of a problem. She looks gorgeous in them. Absolutely fantastic. She’s standing over some muscle bound villain with her foot on his chest. Her raised leg draws your attention to her crotch. She’s also arching her back, making her huge breasts stick out.

Every time you put one of the pictures in an envelope, you stop to look at her. The breaks get longer and longer, until you can’t stand it anymore. Holding one of the pictures, you grab your exposed cock and stroke it desperately. Images of Power Girl with her foot on your chest dance through your head. You lose control and spooge sticky whiteness all over the picture in your hand.

You clean the picture off and put it in an envelope with a form letter. You spend the rest of the day working through half a bag of fan mail.

As day turns to dusk, Power Girl flies in the window. You drop to your knees and stare at her crotch, as instructed.

Power Girl speaks with a bored tone. “How was your first full day of sidekicking, Asslick Boy?”

You smile, watching her perfectly round (and mostly exposed) ass while she walks towards the kitchen. “It was good, ma’am. I think I made a dent on the fan mail.”

“You also sent someone a letter with your cum on it.”

You **** up, unable to respond.

“I saw you,” she says with the same bored tone. “Telescopic vision and X-Ray vision combine to form I-know-every-damn-thing-you-do vision. So don’t try to pretend you didn’t jack off on a picture and put it in and envelope for poor little 6 year old Kimmy Marshal in OshKosh Wisconsin.”

Not knowing anything else to do, you say, “Um, I didn’t see who I was sending it to?”

Power Girl gets more pissed off. “And it wasn’t even the first time you fucked up today. How did you wake me up this morning?”

“Uh, I said it was time to wake up?”

“That’s right. And how did I tell you to wake me up in the mornings?”

Suddenly, you remember what she said while riding your face last night. “I’m sorry, you said to wake you up by eating you out. I forgot, ma’am.”

“That’s right, you forgot.” She walks up to you, her crotch right at your nose. “So we’d better punish you, hadn’t we?”