"Look, Jen -- you've run two comics into the ground now. Do you really want to hang around doing guest shots when some writer thinks he needs a little cheesecake? Do you want to have to compete with all those 'Bad Girls'? Anyway, it's not like what you think. You won't have to get naked -- no more than you used to in comics -- and there's no sex."
"So what is there?"
"Um ... a little bondage ..."
"Ah. I see. Manny, before I slam the phone down in your ear, would you do me a favor and recommend a new agent?"
"Oh, come on. Am I talking to the same woman who let Byrne dress her in a different fetish outfit every issue?"
"Byrne had a guaranteed minimum of 50,000 readers. What's this guy got?"
"Er ... three. Four maybe."
"Thousand?"
"Well, actually, no."
"Nice talking to you, Manny."
"Wait! Wait! Come on, Jen. Do this and I swear I'll get you that Shi crossover. I was just talking with Bill Tucci and he might be interested ................. Jen?"
"Oooooookay. But if it doesn't work out, Manny, _you're_ going to regret this. Capisce?"
"Don't worry, baby, it'll be -- " <click>
Jen Walters, the She-Hulk, turned away from the phone and went to her closet, opening the doors. Then she stopped and stared. All her clothes had been replaced by endless duplications of the same outfit: a loose white silk blouse, short dark skirt, white hose, underwear, and flat slippers to match the skirt, all sized for her seven-foot frame. "Let me guess -- I'm supposed to wear this." Sighing, she dressed, glancing at herself in the full-length mirror along the inside of the door. "Pretty formal for porn," she commented, tucking the blouse in. "So bring on the handcuffs, or whatever. Let's get it over with."
No sooner had the words passed her lips than her bedroom wall exploded inward as a huge metallic form burst through it. "PREPARE FOR SAMPLING, EARTH FEMALE!" boomed an inhuman voice. It was a gleaming robot, a head taller than her, eyes glittering coldly as it moved toward her.
"You jerk!" Jen snarled at the writer. "_You're_ going to pay for that wall. _And_ replacing my clothes. And could you possibly be any more cliched?" she demanded as the robot's hands came up to grab her. "I don't need this." She seized its wrists, exerting all her gamma-powered strength And a bolt of energy tore through her, knocking her head over heels. She slammed against the far wall, somehow not going through it, sticking to it like a thrown strand of well-done spaghetti.
"All right, that's enough -- " Jen pulled mightily at her limbs, moved not an inch. Glancing down, she saw that a thick band of pinkish energy circled each wrist and ankle, pasting her spread-eagle to the wall. Another energy band wrapped her neck like a collar. "Okay. Cute. So now I'm supposed to squirm around a bit and act helpless, right?" The robot approached. "Buzz off, Robbie."
Metal fingers clamped in the material of the blouse, tearing it like cobwebs. The robot paused as if studying the broad expanse of green skin revealed, then reached out. "What the hell -- ?" Jen tugged harder at the bonds, but they only flared brighter as she threw her strength against them. The hands paused inches from her quivering belly, and with a faint click, each finger sprouted flexible metallic tentacles, each tapering to a fine, blunt tip. The tentacles touched her skin, tracing seemingly random patterns. Two prodded gently at the skin just below her ribs, and one burrowed into her navel.
"Hey, quit it, that tickles!" Jen yelped, and then realization struck her, horror spreading over her features. "Oh, no. No way. Let me out of heeeeee -- " She broke off, swallowing giggles as the tentacles continued their dance across her stomach. Her hips switched back and forth as she tried to pull away, but the robot didn't even move; the tentacles tracked her movements perfectly, never deviating from their chosen spots.
"I take back what I said -- oh God -- about the wall!" Jen shouted. "Just let me down from here, and we're quits!"
As if in response, two larger tentacles rose, swaying like cobras, to drive delicately but firmly into her ribs. Their tips vibrated softly as if they were nuzzling her body, and Jen writhed anew as some belly-tentacles skated upward to help cover her ribs, digging and relaxing in rhythm with her own pounding heart. Small, inquisitive metal worms had burrowed beneath the skirt's waistband to tease the delicate flesh there, and the tentacle in her belly-button was a steady, tormenting presence.
"STOP! STOP IT!" Jen squealed, voice high-pitched and breathless with effort. "Dammit, I'm too tih -- tih -- heehee -- don't -- no more!"
The energy bands flared like small suns as she pulled on them with hysterical strength, her face dark and contorted. The network of branching tentacles now spread from the tops of her thighs to her breasts; her bra had been shredded and tiny, hair-fine tentacles brushed her ivy-green nipples to hardness. "I can't staaaaaand it!" Her body gyrated wildly, buttocks slamming a crater in the wall behind her, but as far as the tentacles were concerned, she might as well have stayed stock-still. Not a single tentacle was jarred away from its post, providing a constant, uninterrupted flow of ticklish sensation.