Spoils of Victory

Chapter ONE

The moment Jordin Tyler got inside her apartment, she stepped out of her high heels and began unbuttoning her blouse. In the bathroom she loosened her ponytail, setting her luxurious brunette tresses free as she tossed her blouse to the floor, revealing the lacy white bra which confined and supported her supple bosom. With a sigh, she unzipped her skirt and let it fall around her slim ankles.

At work (as a junior engineer at Hasselhoff Electronics), she had just been reassigned to a new project under Senior Engineer Clarise Strickland. This was a good thing in the sense that it enabled Jordin to keep an eye on the conniving woman; but it was not so good in the sense that Dr. Strickland was a 24-carat bitch! And that was not even counting the certain secret she held over the younger girl, one that she took every opportunity to rub her nose in! But safe in her apartment, Jordin had soon shed every stitch of clothing and was lying in a hot bath.

"Oh, what a day!" the young woman moaned, allowing the warm soapy water to caress her supple body all over. Mmmmm that felt soooooo good! After a few minutes, she began to gently rub soap on and around her nubile breasts, enjoying the slippery feel on her satin skin as she closed her eyes...

Jordin imagined that her phone was ringing, the special red phone to which only one man had access... the direct line to the Capitol City mayor's office! She let out a soft groan as her nipples flushed under her fingertips, sending a tingly sensation directly to her thighs. Normally that sound meant trouble for her superheroine alter ego. Tonight it meant something different.

"Victory here," she whispered to herself, letting her hands slide down between her legs. "What can I do for you?"

"Victory! Thank goodness!" she imagined the Mayor's response, hearing his vibrant, masculine voice clearly. "I need you immediately!"

In real life the very sound of his voice sent Jordin's pulse to beating faster, no less so at this moment, even though it was just her imagination. Just thinking of his strong arms and broad chest made her pussy quiver with suppressed longing...

"You need me? Immediately?" she moaned, her nipples hardening as her fingers moved delicately in between the moist folds of her labia, teasing and coaxing. "That m-m-might be a little tricky, sir." Considering that the mighty Victory happens to be naked as a jaybird right now, she thought, blushing like a schoolgirl.

"Can't you drop whatever you're doing?" she imagined his insistent rumble. "For me?"

Ooooh his voice was like honey, doing the tango across her libido! Lifting one long, lovely leg out of the bath, Jordin lay back further, playing with her submerged slit, stroking herself into a blissful state of arousal.

"Yes! Mr. Mayor, I'll do anything for you...and your fair city..."

"This time, it'd be more for me...just me," he went on in her mind. "But I assure you this is urgent!"

"Oh I b-bet it issss," Jordin hissed, her eyes fluttering as she lay back in the bathtub. "I mean... it's a very... s-serious situation, sir," she gasped, her heart pounding, breath coming faster and faster as she began to get closer to climax.

"I need you to come...quickly!"

"Believe me, I'm trying as hard as I can!" Jordin sighed.

Suddenly a sound cut sharply through her fantasy, causing her eyes to snap open. It was her real phone, the red cell. Flustered, she leaned over to extract her phone from her clothes with her free arm, then touched the speakerphone button.

"Y-yes, Mr. Mayor...?"

The mayor spoke, his voice resonating even more sweetly in reality. "Victory, I'll get straight to the point. The Centurion has just broken into the City Museum!"

Jordin moaned out loud, her excitement coupled with his actual voice nearly making her cum, but her concentration and thus the fantasy shattered all at once like a crystal vase at the sound of the supervillain's name; Centurion!

"Victory?" the mayor asked. "Victory, are you all right?"

"That... ahem!... does sound like an emergency," Jordin continued breathlessly. "I'll be right there." She quickly reached over to her smartphone to break the connection.

Jordin snatched up a towel and rose dripping from her bath, unable to help thinking about the Centurion. She had met the supervillain in battle several times before with less than stellar results.

Once she had patted herself dry, Jordin bent over and put on a pair of silver bracelets. A simple banging of the two magical items brought a blinding flash of light and Jordin had become VICTORY! Her statuesque body was perfectly dry and now clad in her superheroine uniform; purple Lycra hot pants, the garment clinging around her tight, peach-like ass. With a matching purple halter top, its bold silver "V" emblem proudly riding over her ample bust. Silver knee boots and a purple mask completed the look.

With a sassy toss of her long hair, Jordin stood admiring her lean, sexy form in the mirror while she adjusted the silver power belt on her hips, checking the newly installed locking mechanism on the buckle. She had developed the tiny device to make it practically impossible for anyone but her to remove the powerbelt, which (embarrassing as it was) happened from time to time. Having completed her transformation into Capitol City's most powerful superheroine, the amazing Victory headed swiftly out the door!

"Better be on your guard, Centurion!" she practically snarled. "I'm coming for you!"

THE SUN was just beginning to set as a unique custom-built motorcycle arrived in front of Capitol City's Honeywell Museum. Bystanders on the street stared with awe at the beautiful young woman astride the big machine, her long brunette tresses blowing behind her like a banner, her sumptuous body clad only in a clingy, two piece costume, with a mask to conceal her true identity. Though everybody knew this image very well! Without a pause, Victory slipped her delectable round booty from the seat of the Victorycycle, her silver boots taking the steps of the museum two at a time.

Several reporters and gawkers were milling about in the entrance hall, but the stunning superheroine strode past them all, haughtily ignoring the interested looks her tempting feminine curves were getting from the males in the crowd. Past the information desk, the east wing was cordoned off by yellow Crime Scene tape. Two uniformed policemen stopped her at this point, their eyes roaming over her daringly revealing costume.

"Sorry, ma'am," said the taller of the two. "You'll have to submit to a search."

"You've got to be kidding me," Victory smirked, cocking her desirable hips and imperiously thrusting out her wonderful bust. "Surely you boys don't think that I'm concealing anything dangerous in this outfit?"

The other one licked his lips as he stared at the lovely superlady's gorgeous C-cups, straining like a pair of ripe honeydew melons against the fabric of her halter top with its silver "V" emblem. "Orders, ma'am. We have to frisk you..."

The superheroine's smirk began to fade. She liked to keep things light, knowing that CCPD weren't her biggest supporters (no one likes someone who does their job better than they do) but she had no intention of letting these officers put their grubby hands on her. They knew who she was, who had sent her and that she wasn't concealing anything! Luckily a familiar voice intervened.

"That won't be necessary, Watkins," said Detective Sasha Cortez sternly. The gorgeous Latina wore a gray linen skirt and blazer over a cream-colored silk blouse. She scowled at the two officers as she lifted the yellow tape to let the superheroine through. "Victory, I'm so glad you're here! This way please."

The high heels of the two women echoed as they strode along the Hall of Statuary.

"Thank you for coming, Victory," Cortez said. "I knew you'd be interested, because you've clashed with the Centurion before."

Victory hid a flash of trepidation at that statement. Her previous "clash's" with Centurion hadn't exactly ended in her favor. The superheroine pushed those thoughts from her mind, Cortez had no way to know that...with the exception of circulating if unproven rumors of him carrying her off after a brief fight at a mall.

"This time I'm afraid he's made off with the Izimir Venus!" the Latina explained.

"Great Scott!" Victory gasped. She knew it well by reputation. A nearly life size ivory statue of the Roman goddess, it was on loan from the Kingdom of Magristan, which led to another complication. "This is heavy! Ambassador Jafar will be furious! But how can you be sure it was the Centurion?"

"He left a message," Cortez smiled delicately. "With your name on it."

They arrived at an empty pedestal surrounded by various security devices which had obviously been of no avail. Waiting for instructions were the curator, a couple of security guards, two police patrolmen, and three men from forensics. On the pedestal was a small bronze cylinder approximately a foot and a half long. It felt heavy in Victory's hand as she picked it up. Inscribed in the metal was the following message: "From The Centurion. To be opened only by Victory."

"We've tried to open it, naturally," Cortez said. "But the cap won't budge."

"If I can be of assistance..." the museum curator stepped forward.

"I hardly think so, Mr. Howe," Victory balked, arching one flawless eyebrow haughtily. "Everyone just stand back and leave this to me. Obviously it could be dangerous."

As the eight men backed away to a safe distance, Det. Cortez stayed close. The spunky superheroine smirked (Men!) then used her super strength to unscrew the cap on the cylinder, allowing a small scroll to fall out. She passed the cylinder to Cortez, who leaned closer to read the scroll along with her.

"The Izimir Venus now rests in the hands of one who can truly appreciate her beauty. And yet my triumph rings hollow. Because I remember so well the sweet spoils of Victory, I give her this chance to redeem the stolen Venus, assuming she has the spine for it. I now go to procure a matching bauble for my goddess. Follow me if you dare."

Sasha gave the cylindrical case another inspection, suddenly the opened mouth began to exude a dense cloud of greenish, bitter tasting smoke! Victory instantly clamped both hands across her nose and mouth.

"Get back, Sasha! Knowing the Centurion, it's probably..."

"It's not sleep gas," the Latina coughed, having inadvertently gotten a lungful. "It's more like... My CLOTHES!"

The mist had settled like dew onto her blazer and skirt. There was a faint sizzling sound as the fabric of her jacket simply dissolved away, followed just as quickly by her thin silk blouse! Her gun and badge, both clipped to the waistband of her skirt, thumped to the marble floor at her feet as that garment also disappeared, leaving the curvaceous detective in nothing but her sheer black panties and black lacy bra!

"Caramba!" she gasped. "VICTORY! Get away, quickly!"

The warning came too late. The sassy superheroine gaped in stunned disbelief as her skimpy Lycra hot pants evaporated before her very eyes, leaving only the plain white thong she wore underneath! There was absolutely nothing she could do! The super girl let out a strangled "EEK!" as the mist ate away her halter top just as it had her hot pants! For a moment, her delicious breasts hung naked in the cool air of the statuary, their pink nipples in full view! Her emerald green eyes wide as dinner plates, the young heroine quickly cupped her hands over her exposed boobs, embarrassment roiling through her like a tidal wave.

The curator and the other men murmured excitedly despite themselves, huge grins spread on their faces as they gawked at the two half-naked women. Their eyes devouring Victory's peach-like ass, not to mention the sweet V shape between her thighs. Likewise they drank in the gorgeous curves and full round booty of the Latina detective. Meanwhile, frozen in a state of shock, everything seemed in slow motion to the two bared women and they shared a brief glance of utter humiliation.

"Are you sure you don't require any assistance?" Mr. Howe snickered, gawking at Victory's magnificent bazoongas as the superheroine struggled to conceal her chest, blushing like a rose. The other men moved forward, surrounding the women and feasting their eyes on their nubile feminine bodies.

"Keep back!" Cortez glared, regaining her composure. "You two, quickly handover your shirts!"

Two officers started to protest, then realized they were being given an order by their superior; still they made no rush in unbuttoning and handing over their uniform shirts, underneath both had white tank tops and Kevlar vests to cover them. Det. Cortez snatched the shirts angrily, draping one over Victory's shoulders before donning the other herself.

"You all oughta be ashamed of yourselves," she snapped, her accent growing thicker as her anger grew. As a stream of Spanish swears and curses followed, the men all realized their crassness and could not help but look down sheepishly. Oblivious, the superheroine gratefully slipped her arms through the sleeves of the shirt, still her cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

"I'll GET you for this, Centurion!" she hissed under her breath.

Chapter TWO

As dusk was falling, a powerful, athletic man wearing a white tunic and Roman armor gently lowered himself through an open skylight on a thin black cable into a large, sumptuously furnished library. Unhooking the end of the cable from his weapons belt, he let the reel dangle as he looked around in the dim light, hazel eyes narrowing as he focused on a display case containing an enormous ruby. He took a few moments to disable the security and open the case, then smiled broadly as he reached in to gently grasp the beautiful red gemstone... Suddenly his moment of triumph was interrupted as the French doors leading to the rose garden burst open with a crash!

"I'd put that back if I were you, Centurion!" said an arrogant female voice.

The man glanced around to see a pair of spectacular legs striding towards him. Drinking in every inch, his eyes followed them upwards to a lean, lissome body clad in purple Lycra hot pants and matching halter.

"Victory!" he smiled, touching the hilt of the short sword hanging from his belt so that its blade rose slowly upright in a suggestive way. "I'm pleased to see you, as always. But how did you guess where I'd be?"

"A bauble to adorn a goddess?" the sexy superlady smirked, giving her hastily-donned spare uniform a little tug. "It had to be the Heart of Jullana ruby here at the Magristani Embassy."

"Not bad for a girl," the Centurion replied, carefully setting the ruby down on the floor. Then he drew a short wooden rod from his belt and charged.

Victory couldn't help admiring the fluid grace of his muscular body as he bore down on her, she had almost forgotten how handsome he was...but this was no time to get distracted. Gracefully she blocked his weapon with her left bracelet, following through with her right fist. To her dismay, the Centurion sidestepped, catching the young heroine off balance and using her own momentum to spin her around and send her tumbling helplessly across the armrest of a nearby sofa. The next thing she knew, she was sprawled flat on her back with the impertinent villain on top, straddling her.

"This is very nice," he said with a grin, pinning both wrists above her head as he gazed down at her lovely bust, rising and falling under the skin tight Lycra top.

"Get off of me!" Victory hissed.

The heroine struggled to push upward with her hips to dislodge him, but in this position he had all the leverage. He leaned closer, his hazel eyes locked with her green orbs, his face hovering only inches from hers. A sudden rush of desire assaulted the heroine, as memories of his body taking hers, of the powerful orgasms he forced upon her, flashed through her mind. As she was distracted his right hand briefly copped a feel of her left breast, squeezing the firm flesh through the fabric of her uniform, then moving downward along the curve of her abdomen, softly tracing the silky bare skin of her ribcage...then quickly sliding over the outside of her hot pants to grab the soft V between her thighs!

"Hey...OH!" the superheroine gasped in surprise as Centurion immediately began to knead her prim mound. Her slim hips involuntarily bucked further into his grip as her green eyes widened and began to roll back into her head. Unwelcome tingles danced across her pelvis and thighs running all the way down to her toes and making them instantly numb.

Victory bit her bottom lip delicately, stifling a moan and willing herself back to her senses. Focusing her super strength she bucked again this time easily pushing him off of her. This was not a romantic encounter, this was a very real fight with a bonafide super villain! The two of them rolled across the hardwood floor in a tangle of grappling arms and legs, until the stunning heroine's superhuman strength got the upper hand. Rising to her feet, she hauled the Centurion upright by the front of his tunic, feeling his hands lightly exploring her trim waist.

"If you're trying to unlatch my powerbelt," Victory smirked, "you're wasting your time. I got tired of lowlifes like you taking it away from me, so I installed a locking mechanism."

"You think of everything," he said. "Still, where there is a will, there is a way."

Victory raised one exquisite eyebrow. "Obviously you're not smart enough to realize when you're beaten, Centurion."

"Perhaps not," the supervillain replied. "But then, unlike you, I WAS smart enough NOT to come in through the door and trigger the silent alarms."

"What does that have to do with--?"

Just then the oak doors at the other end of the library were flung open as two Magristani security guards appeared, waving guns and shouting unintelligibly in Arabic. While the spunky superheroine was distracted, the Centurion grasped both sides of her power belt and shoved it downward over her narrow hips.

"NO!" Victory gasped as her precious belt (still latched) slid over the smooth Lycra fabric of her hot pants and down her long, alluring legs to the floor.

The Centurion's arms immediately snaked around the sassy superheroine's slim waist, cupping her round little butt with his hands as he swept her upward into his embrace. Deprived of her super powers, Victory had no hope of resisting.

"No... you can't..." she protested, as his lips forced themselves over her mouth in a hard kiss.

Victory's eye-lids fluttered as his tongue penetrated her glossed lips and intermingled with her own. Heat was surging through her, blood pounded in her ears and her skin tingled all over as her soft body surrendered against his, seemingly of its own volition. On her tiptoes, supported in his powerful arms, her ankles stepped out of the circle of her power belt without her being aware of it. A gentle moan quivered in her throat, feeling his erection rise up, so hard and thick against her succulent cleft, making her pussy moist, almost aching to be filled by him...

Dimly she was aware that the security guards had fallen silent, advancing slowly while still holding guns on the two of them. The Centurion abruptly disengaged from the kiss and despite herself Victory licked her lips, savoring the lingering taste of his saliva.

"I apologize in advance, Sweet Enchantress," the Centurion whispered in her ear, "but right now I need a distraction..." With one fluid movement, he unhooked Victory's halter top and peeled the garment off, at the same time giving her body a push. "...And you make one Hell of a distraction!"

"NO!" Victory squealed, her exquisite breasts bobbing in full view (again) as she stumbled helplessly into the hands of the two security guards. "Don't!"