Discount Invincible (Bulletproof SI/Invincible Comics)

I, Zandale, had been waiting for this for an eternity. I tried hard not to let it faze me when I ripped open the letter which contained in it the address of Cecil Stedman via a GPS. My heart pounded in my chest, a drum in a concert of another sort. The Director of the Global Defense Agency finally made good. In it was the address of the secret complex in which secret sessions of the Guardians of the Globe were being conducted.

But before I reached the prime goods, I first set hands on the suit. It was everything I ever fantasized, and a little more. The material was woven, it gazed, of threads of fates themselves—flexible, resilient, and glowing in sunlight, as though a star puked on it. The style was impeccable, just as in comics and on screen. But come on, it was just a start. Bulletproof, sure, it is a fine slogan, but it is a name which is not going to make bad guys shudder all over the globe.

I zipped it on, and it clung in a fitted sort of way, as though it was tailored for my body. It clung a little too tightly, though, which is just what occurs when your body is composed of muscles capable of making gods on Mount Olympus green-eyed. I stretched a little, and I rehearsed a few of my best punching in front of myself in the mirror, seeing it ripple such as a lake when a stone is thrown in. I made sure it won't tear when I flex for the first time, so I went over for Carla's opinion. She looked in with her hero-worshipping kind of stare, seeing her hero in myself, I think. But she also had the I-will-miss-you kind of stare, too.

"Be careful, all right?" she cautions, her fear trembling in her voice. "You're not playing super hero games anymore."

"I'll be fine," I lied, attempting a firmer certainty than I felt. "This is all I have trained for."

Carla nodded, her own eyes filling with a mix of pride and embarrassment. She understood just how much I needed this, just how precious it meant to me. And she recognized this suit as just a piece of it. The test, though, lay in facing whatever lay in the desert. With a final squeeze of her hand, I blasted off into the air, my adaptive powers pushing me, racing along like a human bullet. The gale blew past my face, and the beep of my in ear, the GPS guided me steadily towards the secret destination. The desert spread below, a sea of orange and red which stretched on and on. Beautiful in its own bitter beauty, it humbled me. That was about to come to an end.

After what felt like an eternity of careening along—but which in time must have taken a minute or so of racing along—I caught a glimpse of the base. It resembled a science fiction movie set, all steel and camouflage panels mottling in precisely the same pattern as desert stone. The doors of the hangar opened, and I thumped down, clattering in an echoing room. The other heroes stood there, in armor suits and staring about as though just off a comic strip.

Dupli-Kate was in front of me, hands propped on her hips. "You must be the new guy," she claimed, staring at me. Her smug smile made me want to punch her or laugh, a little of each, quite possibly.

"Name's Bulletproof," I attempted to say carelessly. "You can call me Zandale, though."

Dupli-Kate raised an eyebrow, and I caught a flash of her thinking. "Zandale, is it?" she said. "Cute. But can you handle the heat out here?"

Before I could utter a word, Black Samson moved toward me, hand extended for a handshake, its size a catcher's mitt. "Welcome aboard, I have heard great reports about you" his deep voice declared.

I took his hand, and it would've felt like I would've been squeezed by a group hug if it wasn't for my powers. "Thanks," I managed, my voice squeezed in. "Looking forward to collaborating with you guys."

Rex-Splode was up next. "Bulletproof, is it?" He chuckled. "My, I think we're in for an explosive time, I can see it now."

Monster Girl crept in a bit, her eyes glittering. "I can't wait to see you at work," she cooed, humming in my ribcage. I have to say, it was weird, but I sensed what was between us—a magnet pull, for sure, which of course wasn't due to my power. Robot just needed to hurry along and re-age her so this wouldn't be so uncouth.

Rae looked at me and appeared to be assessing whether I deserved to be in a suit. "You are an improvement on the last new guy, I think," she bantered. "A hero who can multitask, I like it."

Robot eventually arrived. He moved slowly and deliberately. His gait, however, lacked a normal stride, as though each step was carefully thought out. This made sense, given there was a human mind contained in a steel body. His face, or whatever face there is on this polished, perfect skull, didn't change when he gazed in my direction.

"Zandale," Robot declared, his tone altered, though calm. "Cecil has spoken of your assistive talents. We are highly interested in your beneficial talents."

I crossed my arms and stood firm under his thoughtful glare. "I'm pleased to see it," I remarked. "I hope I can contribute something new to the team."

The robot bowed. "We shall see."

It wasn't a pleasant welcome but then again, I didn't think it would be. Robot preferred doing his own thing, getting results, and expressing little emotion. I noticed since the attack of the Flaxans, Robot didn't seem too pleased. The Guardians won quite handily due to the fact that the Flaxans collapsed once they lost their time-stabilizing wristbands. That was a stroke of fortune, and Robot noticed.

And so did Cecil.

Just then, a hiss of opening doors, and in strolled the Immortal. Introductions were not necessary—the man was well-known in every respect. His shaggy, lengthy beard and large size made him seem a combatant who had been waging war for years. He may as well have been. His piercing eyes scouted about, beginning with Robot. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a system of giving directions which ultimately led to trouble.

Cecil walked in with his own footsteps, his hands in his usual black suit trousers. He appeared to be enjoying the opportunity a little too much, realizing he was about to make a little trouble.

"Okay, everyone, listen carefully," started Cecil, his coarse voice ringing in the room. "Robot, well done on being group leader, but we shall make some adjustments this time."

Robot remained silent, his unreadable stare fixed on Cecil.

"This is Immortal," Cecil indicated, a tall, muscular individual. "You can consider this a joint leadership position. He is a consultant. He provides advice, historical data, and above all, strategic concepts."

We all just stood there in silence, but I sensed a shift. This is a large change of leadership, not a slight change. This is a change from Cecil which indicates I don't trust you on your own to lead.

Immortal walked in front of us, his arms folded as though in command. "You all have clearly been through a difficult experience." He was addressing those who were at the Flaxan invastion, and I wasn't included. "But you guys got lucky. This won't happen again. I have been in command of groups for a great number of years, more years than some of your fathers have lived, more years than some of your grandfathers have lived. If we're going to work together, I expect discipline, coordination, and respect."

Rex-Splode laughed and folded his arms. "Respect goes both ways, old old man."

Immortal smiled. "Work for it, then."

The room was filled with a foreboding aura. I glanced at Dupli-Kate, gasping for breath, as though she had witnessed such a struggle for dominance a hundred times in her past.

Cecil clapped his hands. "Great. We can go over all of this when we have time. We have other business now." He gazed at Robot. "You're still leader, but If Immortal ever wishes to say something, listen. Understand?"

Robot nodded slowly. "Understood."

Cecil left us in the hangar, and we all tensed a bit. The Globe called her Rae, though her actual name is Rachel. Her playful laughter broke her silence. "Guess we have a new situation now," she said, winking at me. Her smile, her green-colored eyes, caught my eye, and I just couldn't help it; I started getting excited about us.

Rae was a smokeshow, her curves enough to induce a saint's curse. Her costume hugged all the right curves, highlighting the DD-cup size of her breasts and the stunning shape of her butt. Her costume hugged, yes, but it was the way that she filled out the costume which made me work up a sweat. Her nipples were two puckered pebbles against fabric, begging to be noticed. And her butt? It was like one of the peaches they cultivate around Olympia - smooth, voluptuous, with the proper amount of bounce. She shaved off the fuzz on her cunt and by how she wobbled it, I could tell that she enjoyed her nub snuggled in tightly.

The other Guardians went on about their usual job, but I didn't. Rachel's piercing stare made an overwhelming emotion well up in me, and I sensed she wanted more about who I am. I approached her, trying not to act weird, but my heart pounded in my chest like a lovesick teenager asking for his first girl.

"So, Rachel," I began, propping myself against the cold steel wall of the hangar. "Opinions on this co-leadership arrangement?"

Her smile wide, though uncertain. "I think it's about time we shake things up a little bit," she ventured, her smile now lighting her face. "A little competition is healthy for all of us."

"I agree, I think," I snapped, a little tougher than I intended. "But I'm more interested in cooperating."

Rae raised an eyebrow and flashed her red lips. "So, we are cooperating, aren't we?" She leaned slightly toward me. "I prefer it this way."

I could see her pussy shape under her costume, and it drove me mad. I sensed it as a secret signal, a signal of her affection for and attraction towards me just as I desired her.

"You know, I've had some pretty intense collaborations in my time,"She continued, her words melting toward my ear. "And I think you can show me something new."

My heart raced. Was she flirting? Her hand on my arm tickled, and she looked as though she was. "Okay, Rachel," I stammered, trying to be calm so she won't notice just how thrilled I was. "I have a few surprises for you."

She put her hand on my waist and leaned in, her body inches away from mine, and I could feel her breath on my neck. "I'm counting on it," she said, nipping her teeth gently on my earlobe. I shivered and felt a rush, I needed her.

I pushed her hard against the wall and I kissed her. Her body melted in my arms. Our tongues moved together, tasting each other's mouth as though we have been anticipating this. Rachel ran her hands along my body, down my stomach, and on my buttocks. I sensed her fingernail digging into my hard body, making little marks as though she owns me.

After the embrace, she gazed at me intensely, her eyes brimming with emotions I had not noticed in her ever before. "Let's go to the command room," she exclaimed, her enthusiasm filling her voice. "The desert view is wonderful, and we won't be interrupted there."

She didn't have to remind me again. I scooped her up in my arms, and she weighed so little it was as though I was cradling a feather. I ran quick and she giggled, her arms went about my neck, her legs about my waist. I moved in a flash of color and motion toward the ground, and I sensed warmth mounting between us with every stride.

Once to the control room, Rachel shut the door with a kick, and I set her down gently. She ran over to the command station, switching off outlets and punching in codes as though she did it all the time. The room filled with a pleasant, mellow light, and the large window displayed the desert beyond, wide and lovely.

"Perfect," she leaned in, her face, which was so beautiful, gazing in my direction.

"Do you think this view is great?" Rachel asked, her eyes full of desire.

"It's amazing," I responded, not due to the desert beyond. Rachel grasped for the bump in my trousers and squeezed it, making me jerk. She grinned, her hand quickly unzipping my zipper. "I think there is something more pressing to attend to."

My dick sprang open, hard and thick, and Rachel's eyes grew wide. "You've got a beast down there," she breathed, her hand around my girth. I hissed with bliss as she began to caress me, her fingers firm and confident. Her eyes locked to mine, and her gaze burned with lust. "I have a feeling you're going to fill me up just right."

But I thought otherwise. Rachel was pretty, sure, but I needed to keep my wits about myself. I needed to see her in another set of clothing. I reached down, grabbed the hem of her suit, and ripped it hard. The material tore wide open, exposing her sweet, peach-colored posterior. Rachel gasped, her mouth wide in surprise. "What in the world, Zandale?"

"Let's see just how tight you really are," I grumbled slamming her against the panel. She whined, yet her body was succumbing to her. Her body was slick with moisture, and she was loving every second of it. I saw that in the way in which she thrust her ass towards me, begging for it.

My cock was hard as an iron rod, pulsating with arousal where it lay nestled against her taut curved buttocks. Rachel was standing rigid in the console with her pale knuckles full of yearning. "Do it," she gasped in her raw voice. "Guck me, Zandale. Give me everything you have."

I didn't have to be reminded. I got behind her, dick against slippery lips of pussy. I gripped her hips, reveling in the solid body in my hands. Rachel was tighter than most pussy I had been inside, and I was certain I was ready to explode like an erupting volcano. But I needed to keep myself in check—this was an exercise in staying power, not speeding to the target.

"You want this, don't you?" I breathed against her neck. "You want me to fuck you until you can't walk straight.."

Rae's only response was an arched groan, tensing to me. Her body was soaked through, juices slicking over my cock to leave it slippery with desire. I burrowed between her slicked-over crotch, her body shuddering in anticipation. "Say it," I told her. "Say that you want this."

"Yes," Rachel gasped. "Oh yes, please, Zandale. Give it to me now!"

And with that, I thrusted inside her, her tight pussy enveloping my dick in a snug fit. Rachel gasped, fingernails scraping against the console as I stretched her to full capacity. Her pussy was slippery with ecstasy, warm, and I felt as if a god who came to take over a civilization. "You're really tight," I groaned raw. "So goddamn tight."

Rae tossed her head to one side, red hair cascading down behind her. "Harder," she told me. "Fuck me harder, please, Zandale."

And fuck her I did. I thrust in with every inch I possessed, hips pistoning in jerky thrusts, cock slamming over and over against her pussy as if it were digging to the planet's core. Her moaning grew in volume, body arched in ecstasy. Her ass shuddered in each thrust, and I couldn't avoid catching myself stealing a glance over to absorb the reflection in the mirrored wall behind the control panel.

With each slap of my hand, her ass oscillated in wave motion like a pond. Her ass was an ass to drive swearing in a saint, and my hand felt to have been led to its holy grail. Her scream was in ecstasy, intermingled with the echo of me slapping her ass in the room. Her ass was rammed towards me, her pussy enveloping my cock in a vice-like hug. "Yes!" she yelled. "Harder, Zandale! Make me feel good!"

I smacked her ass yet again to shades red. Rachel rolled her eyes in her head and tensed in body. "Oh god, I'm cumming," she gasped between gasps of laborious breathing. Her vagina tightened around me, her climax running through her body in streaks of lightning. I felt warmth in her juices wrapping around my rod while her walls constricted harder in climax. Her body was shuddering in every inch, and in an instant I thought she was about to faint in ecstasy.

But Rachel was not to be underestimated. Unexpected power coursed through her body, and she launched herself off the console to turn to face me, eyes blazing. "My turn," she growled, thrusting herself against me against the wall. Her hands ran over every inch of body—my chest, stomach, dick—searching every inch for something in an almost savage greed. Her teeth dug into my neck, sending shudders coursing down my spine.

With a sly grin, Rachel got down to her knees in front of me, not batting an eyelash in my direction. "Let's see if you taste as good as you look," she breathed before wrapping her full lips around my dick. Her tongue swirled around my cock like the last cone in the cosmos of ice cream, and I clipped my lip to prevent myself from cumming too fast.

"Mmph," Rachel hummed around my cock in circles, shuddering aftershocks rushing through me. Her eyes jerked upwards to clash with mine, wickedness sparkling in her eyes. This was something that Rachel was reveling in, reveling in torturing me. Her cheeks hollowed in an attempt to take in more of me, her throat straining to take in around my size. Her hand came upwards to cup around my balls, her fingers giving them a squeeze before sucking me off. It was tortuous in sensation yet divine.

But Rachel was just getting started. Smiling to herself with a knowing glance, she popped free my cock with a snap, her lips slippery with spittle. She retreated, her tongue darting in to dance around the tip. "How about something new?"

Her words registered only barely before she drew in one of my balls in her mouth slowly. It was like an explosive in my head. Her tongue danced around the delicate skin, and I was physically getting harder, which shouldn't have been possible if it wasn't for my adaptive powers. Rachel drew in the second ball next, her hand sliding down to where she rubbed in an unhurried repetitive motion driving me crazy. Her mouth was warm liquid ecstasy, and I was the wayward soul who had stumbled upon heaven.

"Rae," I sighed, my throat clogged with yearning. "What're you doing to me?"

Rachel's laugh was evil in shape. "Just getting underway," she breathed before she released my balls from their sweet torments to and reclined to lap my dick length, not turning her eyes aside from mine. Her tongue ran over pulsating veins and I felt her tip of her nose graze over my pelvis. It was most sensual experience that I have ever known, and I was barely hanging in to not lose it in that moment. My hand soon found tangled hair like I was bull riding.

With a deft motion, Rachel put herself in front of my dick with her humongous tits. Her eyes shone with expectation as she cupped her hand over my cock and brought it to her tits. "You ever had a titty fuck, Zandale?" cooed Rachel in sultry purr.

"Can't say I have," I replied, my body throbbing in reaction to her full tits. Her tits looked like two warm pillows of pure sin, and I couldn't I wouldn't get enough of burying myself in them. She was a goddess, and I was about to get religious.

With a sidelong glance over her shoulder, Rachel edged closer in, thrusting her tits forward. Her tits were two terrific clouds, and I was the luckiest plane in the universe. Her hand came over to surround me in an attempt to push me toward her tits, her body warmth threatening to melt me. Rachel was bouncing her tits in an upwards-and-downwards motion, causing an intense friction that was causing me to grunt like a caveman. "Oh fuck," I grunted rolling eyes behind my head. "That is really something."

Her smirk grew to full beam, eyes sparkling with victory. She was certain I was in her pocket—and better yet in the valley between her breasts. "You're enjoying this?" she taunted in her husky tone. "You're hungry for more?"

Without waiting to get an answer, Rachel began to squeeze her tits around my dick, her movements purposeful yet unhaste. Her nipples rubbed against my rod each thrust, sending shuddering bolts of pleasure coursing through me in bolts of lightning. "Oh, fuck yes," I groaned, jerking hips that appeared to have developed an independent free will. Rachel's tits felt divine around my dick, and I was not in any hurry to leave.

Rachel's eyes remained glued to mine, entrapping me while she used her tits to work over my cock. Her eyes saw yearning in my eyes and she luxuriated in it. As she continued to touch me, she grew braver, hungrier. "You're mine, Zandale," she breathed in her sultry hissing voice. "You're completely mine."

I could feel myself winding toward an orgasm, about to burst in this pressure cooker. Rachel's tits gripped me in a vice, growing tauter by increments with each thrust. Her hands pounded harder, my gasps in short jagged jerks. "Cum for me," she whined in desperation. "Cum over my tits and over my face."

I couldn't keep myself contained anymore. I let go with a roar and pumped semen in strings upon Rachel's tits and face in warm goop. Rachel gasped in pleasure and shocked response to the sensation of the warmth of my climax. She didn't jerk back, didn't retreat. Her eyes remained fixed upon me, half-closed in ecstasy. Rachel was streaked with semen across her cheeks, cosmetics smudged down her face in streaks, and was simply ravishing.

For a couple of seconds, we hung there, gasping in each other's faces. And then Rachel stretched forward to remove a glob of semen from her check with her tongue. She groaned in ecstasy, wallowing in the taste, and I couldn't take my eyes off her, entranced. Rachel glanced over to me, sparkling with depravity in her eyes, before turning to go about her work tonguing and sucking semen off her body like ambrosia sweet. Every lap of her tongue sent shuddering pleasure through me, and I couldn't help piercing myself in the conscience with guilt. Carla waited in Chicago, none the better knowing this little interlude. But the isekei and Bulletproof in me gave not a shit.

"We should wash up," she told me, gasping raw from her struggle. Her breathing was rising and falling in an attempt to catch her breath. Her body was streaked in white where sweat had dripped down upon her during our ordeal. I barely resisted touching her because of that. But she was not wrong. We both had passed way beyond the line.

"Yeah," I answered, my own voice raw with longing. "Let's go shower."

The walk to the shower was not an easy walk to undertake, each of ours echoing down empty hallways in this left-behind base. Rachel put her hand in mine, and I held her firmly. We both knew that we shouldn't have done what we did or at least my scars ran deeper then her, yet in this moment the bond between us was to intense to fight against.

"You know," she began to utter in a slightly shaken manner, "I've never felt like this about anyone."

Her words sent shudders down my spine, and I gripped her hand in mine firmly, enjoying the warmth of our secret. "It must be the material," I tried to say nonchalantly. I knew the truth.

It was not simply about making this suit irresistible to Rachel. It was about this power in myself, this power that bettered myself against all forms of challenges, this same power that led me to be an improved lover to Carla. It was this power that had turned this sort of guy who was virtually irresistible to just about every woman in the universe including superheroines and in this context in particular to Rachel.