Sex and the Single Superhero (The Thrust Diaries) by Sasha Twyst

Author:Sasha Twyst [Twyst, Sasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-08-29T22:00:00+00:00

Size Matters

I got off of my motorcycle and took a small metal box from the saddlebag. I set this on the table and undid the latch. Inside, a tiny pair of eyes glared at me and a tiny pair of fists shook.

A small, angry, just audible voice came from the box. “What did you do? Stop and get a milkshake?”

“I told you it would take a while to get here.”

“You did, but you didn’t say that ‘A while’ meant ‘you should bring a book’.”

“Well, if we do this again, bring a book.”

With that exchange done, the five inch high woman jumped out of her confines and onto the floor. Her name in the superhero game is Minmax. I met her at Police Headquarters when Hell’s Herald was tearing up downtown last spring. A bunch of us hero types coordinated. She and I were paired up. In the field, Minmax ran interference, bashing tons of lesser demon face while I introduced H.H. to the glory of my fists. We worked really well together that night and agreed we should spar some time so she could show me some of those anti-gang moves she was throwing down.

Last week, I finally got the call. We’d set a date and today, she was in my training space, a warehouse to which I don’t give the address, which is why I had to go pick her up and literally keep her in the dark.

Minmax stepped over to the edge of the table and jumped off, growing from five inches to five and a half feet. Of the superheroines I’d met so far, her fighting gear was the most practical; less Fredrick’s of Hollywood and more L.L. Bean. From bottom to top, it was black boots, brown cargo pants, a sturdy leather belt, a black leotard, fingerless gloves and a brick red bolero jacket, with sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Minus the mask that covered everything on her face from nose to hairline and the two patches on her shoulders in the shape of two stacked M’s, she could wear it on the street and no one would know her business.

“So this is your secret base of operations?” she said, looking around the space.

“It is.”

“Very… practical.”

I caught the lack of being impressed. “Well, it’s not full of bats or a crystal dome in the arctic, but it works. I can tune up my bike here, sleep if I need to. There’s Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer if you want ice cream later.”

“Cozy, just not what I’d expect from someone called Thrust.”

“What exactly were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. A bigger TV than that one over there. Maybe more beer and less Cherry Garcia. Enough of that, though. Where do you want to begin?”

“Crowd control. I’m pretty good slugging it out, toe to toe, but I’m less good at keeping the creeps from getting to the innocent bystanders. Sound good?”

She held up her hands. “No objections.”

“Okay.”

We moved over to my training area, which mostly consisted of a dozen or so foam mats.

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