Welcome again, true believers, to another installment of the most original heroine ever. We join the web-swinging wall-crawling champion in the middle of a mad dash over the streets of Manhattan. She carries precious cargo with her, even as sinister forces gather in the shadows.
"I have to get home!" Polly scolded herself as she soared over the empty financial district. Polly was worried and troubled, taking it out on herself. Her alter ego, Spiderette was always on the watch for danger. Even as the young woman was under great stress, she heard a harsh popping in the distance. Who's lighting fireworks on a school night on Wall St., Spiderette thought as she swung around a wide glass tower. With alarm, Polly noticed the red and blue police lights. Those weren't fireworks! Looking down, she saw a full shoot out between a set of three criminals and the police.
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Far below, a criminal glances up at a flit of blue motion against the glass of an office building. She wipes the bangs from her face and idly fires over the heads of the police up the street. They were making a fighting retreat to the getaway cars, only a couple more blocks. The crook realizes with a fright what that blue speck is as it grows closer in wide arcs.
"GEEZ! It's Spiderette!" She blurts it out fearfully. Unconsciously, she put her free hand over her chest.
Both of her compatriots drop their weapons.
"Boss, I knows theres gonna be hells to pay, but I ain't getting stripped and put on a fourth-rate newspaper cover!" cries the man carrying the lockbox. He raises his hands as he kicks the pistol over to the waiting police.
All three of the criminals surrender to the police in short order. Spiderette chuckled at how she was so fearsome, the mere sight of her from 200 feet in the air was enough
"Cripes, what the hell, man!" cries one of the crooks as Spiderette sails right by them. "She wasn't even coming for us!"
"Coward!" yells their leader as the cuffs click shut behind her.
A single stream of web landed on her black bank-robbing turtleneck and held fast. She was not the type to wear bras. "Oh no..."
SWISHRIIIIP!
The leader stood stupefied as the webbing tore away her smart black shirt. Her breasts bounced downward and up again. And then, as the handcuffed woman wrestled against her restraints, rapidly from side to side. In a fit of abject stupidity, she tried to jump over her cuffs and bring them in front of her. One leg was hung up on the cuffs, and she is about to land on her face as she'd steadied by a police officer. He begins walking her over to a cop car, her cuffs between her legs. One arm wrenched behind her, the other squeezing her breasts together, all the while on her tip toes as the chain digs tight against the crotch of her pants. It's not at all effective.
The rookie cop holding her arm was trying valiantly to get her in the patrol car while trying not to get the department sued. The black haired woman made this difficult as she turned into him and shielded herself by pressing her chest against the patrolman as they walked. "Oh god, I can feel your nipples. I'm talking out loud again! Quick! Change the subject, Bob. Is this another of those pre-job good luck rituals, not wearing anything under the turtleneck?"
"No, I just don't like wearing...uh...look...Just get me one of those scratchy brown blankets the police always give to people in movies!"
"I'm sorry, mammaries...er...ma'am. We don't have any more blankets. Budget cuts." He said, expositing a plot point.
"I don't believe you! You're so sued, flatfoot!" She did not understand how laws worked, unsurprising as she was a criminal.
"I didn't start shooting at your ass on a Wednesday night, perp." The police man was in charge of making people follow laws for a living and understood how sexual harassment laws work because of an unfortunate side career as a high school gym coach.
"SUED!" She squeaked as the hand holding her arm brushed against her nipple and squeezed it playfully between two calloused knuckles. That was definitely on purpose and illegal, but the cop never had the opportunity to tweak the nipple of someone who had tried to shoot him before.
"You can sue me after you get processed, ma'am. I hope you have a good lawyer." He chuckled as he pushed her into the squad car.
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"PRIAPISM?!" Half-shouted Polly in the hospital's visitor lounge. "He sent me to get heart medicine because he took too many boner pills and they gave him a super boner?"
"Oh, Polly, you're old enough to know there's no such thing as a super boner. Just like super heroine, it's only a myth." Aunt Bendette was giggling conspiratorially, even though Polly was livid. "They may say they've got a super boner, but it's always just a hot purple mess plastered to his belly."
"Thanks, Auntie. I really was missing that clenching tickle in my jaw that signals imminent vomit." Aunt Bendette took Polly's hand, her eyes taking a less energetic mien.
"Thank you for coming home with the medicine. Your Uncle was just starting to get light headed and we knew he had to come here."
"I know you two were worried, I just thought it was less...penis related."
"We still do it, you know." Her aunt stated perhaps too triumphantly.
"INAPPROPRIATE!"
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What an arousing development for Uncle Mace! Let's leave Polly to her personal family time dear readers, because across town a dangerous heist is in the works. As police are tied up with a shootout downtown, a pair of news business colleagues make their way to the Media Professional's Credit Union. They are easily recognizable as the Fakes News arch-pundit October O'Reily and the Editor-in-chief of the Daily Trumpet D. Danna Dameson.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding, Double D!" Spat O'Reily with a lilting chuckle. She looked ready for a night out, in a black cocktail dress that even at its most ambitious moments, never touched her knees. It d****d her lithe 29-year-old form in a way that was more beautiful than overtly sensual, a classy knock out.
"She's already half done with her training as an astronaut, she'd be great on your show! You'd give her a high priority for big missions, she'd give you the excuse to talk about how great America is for 5 minutes of your show." Her critics had many valid and cogent points about her ethics and modesty, but Danna knew how to sell a story. Dameson was still dressed from her day at work, in a charcoal power suit with green pinstripes. Her cleavage was, per usual, abundant and flaunted. Though older than her friend and fellow journalist, she had a fantastic hourglass figure that was frankly distracting to any gender. She punctuated her argument by ashing one of her ever-present cigars on the littered sidewalk.
"God, you're probably right. The idiots who watch my show do love to hear how America is great..." October looked up thoughtfully, though there were no stars to see in New York.
"Just think about it. No, don't answer me now, let me know when you've got a slow day and you need to fill 5 minutes with her. Thanks for walking with me on this errand, the damn girl from financials is sick today and no one else was in late enough to drop off the ad checks. You never know what kind of weirdos are out at night. I'm sure that Spiderette pervert is probably stalking me after showing her for what she really is. Now let's get that drink I promised you." Dameson was about to drop the deposit bag into the the night slot when a flash of light and a searing sizzling sound resounded down the street. Suddenly, a street light exploded in a shower of sparks and ozone near the women. They screamed as they saw a figure take shape out of the arcing bolts of power that rained from the light.
Dameson's mouth hung open, her cigar tumbling from it. At the end of the display, a woman was standing there. She wore a ridiculous green and yellow costume with stylized lightning bolts coming off of it at strange angles. October didn't miss a beat. She already had her smart phone out and was videorecording the new arrival.
"Hey, you! Rich b*tches!" The woman had a low class accent, like a construction worker. And her accent was atrocious, either from Staten Island or Northern Jersey.
"What the hell did you just call me, you Jersey Turnpike fashion disaster?"
"Double D, shut up. She's obviously a super vill-ah!" O'Reily yelled as her phone was ripped from her hand.
"Who are you, lady, Magneta's color blind cousin?" Dameson kept going, unfazed.
"Bah, magnetism! What a joke! I command electricity itself, including Static Electricity!" She waved the phone back and forth. "I...AM ELECTRA!"
"But aren't magnetic forcelines a function of electricity, vis-a-vis electron flow-" October began asking a well-thought-out question.
"Shut it, college! And gimme that bag of money or I will take it by force!" bellowed Electra.
"It's not a bag of money, you dunce! Come on, you're rich, buy a new phone. Let's leave this joke to her lightshow." Dameson tossed the bag in the slot and grabbed October to walk away.
"You should have just given me the money! It looks like someone needs to teach you a lesson, lady!"
"No one dressed like you is going to be teaching any lessons, you idiot." shot back Dameson as she ushered away October, who was uncharacteristically silent. It seemed the tough anchor personage was a front for a rather timid person.
Lightning arced from Electra's fingertips and suddenly a powerful force was exerting itself on Danna's suit skirt. She cursed and tried to walk against the force as it tugged at her legs. She fought step by step to get away from the strange pull, realizing this was some funny business. All at once, the resistance gave way with the sound of ripping fabric. The editor's skirt had been ripped right off her hips! Pale white legs were encased in sheer black hose up to her thighs. Above that were black garters and the tiniest little purple thong that October had ever seen in real life. She was obviously hairless below the waist, the satin fabric was barely enough to cover her sex.
"No one undressed like you should be leaving the house!" Yelled Electra. She shook the skirt at the mortified Dameson.
"Gah!" Danna screamed, covering up the daring underwear and ample rear with a hand apiece. October, demonstrating her mettle as a journalist and friend, ran away as fast as she could on her heels.
"Help! Police!" screamed the young cable news personality. New Yorkers turned up the volumes on their various devices to drown out the racket outside.
"Stop!" yelled Electra as she raised her hand and looked as though she were concentrating. October's cries for help cut off and abruptly and she slowly began walking back toward them, pulled along by her dress.
"She's got me, Double D!"
"I really can't have you two going to the police."
"Don't bother! I already know who you are, you pervert!" Dameson proclaimed, switching her both hands to the front of the infinitesimal satin underwear that hung tightly across her sex.
"Oh really, tell you what, if you guess right, I will let you take your skirt and go. Then I'll go home, rob some other bank. Because if you know who I am, sister, you must be the world's greatest pantsless detective."
"That's Batw-" blurted October as she returned to her friend's side, but was cut short from trademark infringement by Dameson.
"You're Spiderette!" She proclaimed this last part triumphantly, forgetting herself and putting her hands on her hips. She then noticed October's gaze was not on the dangerous criminal, but fixed on her underwear. Double D's composure dissolved and she crossed her legs to avoid her friend's gaze.
"WRONG." Electra tightened her fist and jerked it toward herself quickly.
October's body was revealed as the front half of her dress flew off into the night. Her strapless black bra held firm and her boyshorts communicated her conservative values. But her body was the height of fitness, she had been employed by Fakes because of it. And maybe it was her job to lie to the American people, but she never showed skin like a harlot. She was so afraid of paparazzi that she had not stepped foot on a beach in years. And now on a street in Manahattan, she was being stripped by a maniac whose super power was dryer cling!
"EEP!" October put an arm around her chest and in front of her underwear "I wasn't even playing!"
"Oh, and everytime you guess something wrong, I take it from the other one." She looked up and down October. "That's just boring choice compared to your friend." mumbled Electra.
"Hey, not everyone wears floss and fig leaves." October motioned at Dameson with disdain.
"Not the time to get catty, Ox." Double D's mind raced. This had to be Spiderette. The stripping, the tight little body in spandex, the criminal fervor. It all added up.
"So make your next guess, sling shot!"
"Does it begin with a J?" October asked.
"I thought you weren't playing!" Yelled Dameson.
October let out a squeak as Electra laughed.
"Doesn't matter. Wrong again!" She raised her hand to O'Reily. "I am really just too curious..." Electra smirked as she swung toward the editor and yanked her hand. The editors blouse came away from her all at once, taking her jacket with it. Electra caught it and then cast it off into the night. And what she saw did not disappoint, true believers.
In front of her, still in motion was the most magnificent pair of breasts that the somewhat perverse super villain had ever seen. They were contained only by a sultry satin bra. It held them tightly, forcing them up and together. Dameson rolled her eyes at October and stared daggers at her friend. October looked up from her friend's barely-covered body and then gave a nervous smile. October couldn't find her voice under Danna's withering gaze and mouthed the word "sorry".
"Have you ever heard of a prisoner's dilemma?" October asked, clutching her bra nervously.
Dameson rounded on the villain, her eyes full of fury. "You're a real smart aleck...aren't you?"
"People have said I have a mouth."
"You're...Dead Pond! The evil mercenary!"
"Good guess, jugs!" Both women sighed in relief. "But wrong!"
"N-" TWANG went the tv journalist's bra, tearing from her sweaty palms and sailing on top of the street lamp. Her hands flew up to cover her delightful apple sized breasts. Danna wished Porter was here to capture them for the Trumpet's page 3. Her face was a mixture of disbelief and mortification, her mouth open roundly, though no sound came out.
"I guess you haven't heard of a prisoner's dilemma." Said October as her wits returned. "And I guess you are a no class pervert who get's off on girls."
"Not wrong, but you're friend is a homophobe, jugs. Guess you wore your 'maybe I'll get lucky undies' for nothing tonight!" Electra patronized Danna with a mocking frown.
"Heh, I..." Dameson actually had no answer for that. Seducing the Republican had been her plan tonight. "...can you blame me?"
"She's got a adorkable personality and a kicking little body. I really can't."
Maybe it was because they were standing half naked together, but October's mind hung on the image of Double D making out with her in the street right now. She could almost feel her friend touching her body, slipping her manicured fingers down October's shorts, exploring her. The thought of Dameson kissing her and feeling her up made O'Reily feel very strange indeed. The flush across her cheeks and chest must have been disgust, she told herself hastily. "Ugh, gross! You're both mentally unwell perverts." blurted out October as she reacted to her own arousal. "You're a horrible person!"
"Wrong! I'm awesome. And since you're not going to be taking this off..." Electra raised her hand again. The villain had to exert all of her effort to tear through Dameson's bra. But it let go with a satisfying elastic spring as it too flew up onto a street lamp next to October's. Danna had seen her about to do her voodoo and had been ready. The confident editor caught her massive breasts, barely covering herself as the violet fabric flew away. She felt her nipples pressing against her hands, hot at the humiliation of being exposed in front of her crush. Her legs buckled in their stockings and squeezed tightly as she flushed red. Then suddenly, she felt enraged at being humiliated in front of October. She decided that they were ending up naked no matter what. Electra didn't care for the rules of her own game.
"Jeez, you're missing out." Said Electra staring at the woman who was shaking in aroused rage. Her pale curves only protected by her hands, silk stockings, and a pornographic thong. "Do you two give up, already?"
"You're Electra!" said October triumphantly. Electra raised her eyebrows and a smile spread across her face. Danna quickly shifted her arms, so that one desperately held onto her large breasts and the other covered her underwear, which she expected to be hanging from a street lamp any second.
"Actually, that is ri-"
"You prime time bimbo! She's obviously Spiderette! Don't you see she's toying with us!" Danna exploded.
Electra snorted and pointed her finger like a pistol at Danna.
"Nonononono-" Said Danna. Electra winked at Dameson as she wielded her strangely specific powers against the only thing left on October's body. The shorts shredded instantly exploded in a tiny rain of black confetti. They had hidden a neatly trimmed pubic area which resembled a simplified elephant, the symbol of Fakes News. Below that was an inviting flower, a pink petal contemplating to blossom.
"Oh wow, you really are a Republican." cringed Dameson, who had always harbored hopes it was an act.
"But I was right!" October whined as she covered up her undercarriage styling.
"You were! Then Thunderboobs Are Go here was wrong, probably because of her weird crush on a super hero."
"You did that on purpose!" October rounded on Danna.
"I still think she's Spiderette!" Danna proclaimed, not removing her hand from between her legs as she expected a trick from their torturer.
"I'm really not. I'm pretty sure that lady fights crime. Where as I unabashedly commit criminal acts. But since you guessed wrong again, jugs..." She raised October's smartphone at the naked tv host.
"No!" Screamed October O'Reily as she covered the one thing her millions of fans had seen before: her face. The rest of her gorgeous body, trimmed, and beautiful, was left naked for the photographing.
"Oh dammit! Shit." said Electra suddenly as she looked up nervously.
"What?" both women asked looking around, hoping the police were behind them.
"I don't know how to post a video to Twitter. Guess your Facebook is gonna have to do..."
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