PART 15
It was at this point that Glamour Girl arrived. Partly she was there to give some superheroine protection to such an important celebrity, but mostly she was there because, like Stephanie, there was no way she’d let such a beautiful and popular visiting star escape her clutches. Indeed, it would be difficult to say who was the bigger sl*t - Glamour Girl or Stephanie Cox.
Glamour Girl was wearing her latest 'Glamour Girl' outfit, a light blue lycra bodysuit that looked as if it had been sprayed on to her. A red 'GG' logo across her chest, and a tiny pair of tight red briefs served to accentuate the egotistical superheroine's magnificent tits and ass. She was also sporting, for the first time, the Glamour Girl Utility Belt which contained an assortment of crime-fighting devices as well as her lipstick, eye-shadow and a spare pair of panties.
Trailing in her wake was an awe-struck security guard, who followed behind partly from deference but mostly so that she could feast her eyes on the swaying Glamour Girl blue-lycra clad bubble-butt as she gracefully walked ahead.
It did not take long for Glamour Girl to locate Amada, and Stephanie looked daggers at her rival as the vain, permanently horny superheroine stuck her large melon-like breasts between Miss Cox and Amada.
'Hi! I'm Glamour Girl. I'll be your bodyguard for tonight - and that's quite a body you've got to guard', she said seductively, eyes sparkling.
Amada nearly fainted as she took this luscious vision of undiluted pulchritude before her. Stephanie was not pleased, and she poked Glamour Girl angrily on the shoulder.
'Hands off b*tch, she's all mine', she said, less than diplomatically.
Glamour Girl kept her composure with maddening ease.
'And who might you be?', she asked sweetly.
'Stephanie Cox'.
Glamour Girl signaled to the security card who handed her a clipboard with the names of the guests attached to it.
'I don't see your name here', lied Glamour Girl. 'Have you any ID?'
'No - I haven't got any ID on me, you simpering, fat-assed bimbo! I don't need ID. I'm Stephanie Cox!'.
Stephanie was just congratulating herself on the wit and subtlety of her put-down when she felt herself being grabbed from behind by the security guard.
'What are you doing! Let me go'.
The guard held Stephanie's arms out as Glamour Girl took a pair of Glamour Girl Handcuffs from her Utility Belt, put the chain round one of the railings by the staircase and then locked the cuffs round the struggling Stephanie's wrists.
'You can't do this to me!', she screamed impotently as she rattled the chain of the handcuffs against the railing. 'Let me go this instant!'.
Stephanie's remonstrations only served to draw the attention of the other well-heeled guests to her predicament.
'You are not on the list of guests, so I will have to search you for concealed weapons', said Glamour Girl.
'This is ridiculous! Where could I conceal any weapons in this outfit?'
Glamour Girl did not give the obvious reply, but instead took the hem of Stephanie's little black dress in her hands, and with an evil smile, ripped it off her body in one dramatic movement.
'Oooooh!', squealed the mortified Stephanie, blushing furiously as she now stood stripped to her lacy white bra and panties. Her protestations had ensured that all eyes in the room were now upon her. While Stephanie loved to be the centre of attention, this was positively humiliating, stripped to her underwear in public by this big-titted show-off.
'You b*tch!', she wailed, pulling at the handcuffs again, mortified beyond belief that she could do nothing to cover herself up.
For her part, the already greatly aroused Glamour Girl felt an extra surge of excitement at the prospect of degrading this bratty socialite in front of the gorgeous star. She and Stephanie were engaged in an old-fashioned war between two beauties, and Glamour Girl was winning hands down.
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