Spoils of Victory

Then the rear doors of the van were closed and locked, shutting her and Sasha inside. The one named Marcus got into the driver's seat, while the Centurion had already taken the passenger's seat. With a squeal of tires, the vehicle took off at great speed.

"Mmmmmmm!" Sasha protested, as the van made a sharp turn, sending the girls sliding across the floor, their supple bodies colliding as they tumbled helplessly together.

"Nnngghhhh!" Victory replied, as her hands slid up the sexy Latina's legs and underneath her miniskirt, accidently groping her moist, naked snatch! Victory jerked her hands back and reached up to finally pull her gag off.

"Sorry about that!" the heroine whispered so as not to alert their captors.

"That's ok," Sasha gasped, pulling off her own gag. "What do you suppose he's up to?"

"I haven't a clue," the superheroine conceded, struggling to get the ropes on her wrists undone. It occurred to her that this was not at all an effective way to bind the two obviously competent women but she said nothing, only worked to get free. "I'm curious to see what's in that strongbox, though."

The metal container had slid when they had, giving a hollow bang as it hit the side of the van. It was too big for the Heart of Jullana ruby, unless there was a lot of useless padding inside. Fortunately the drive was not a long one, and within a matter of minutes they arrived at their destination. The van pulled up at the waterfront. All was quiet except for the gentle lap of the tide against the pier. The men climbed out and Sasha and Victory heard them talking outside...their tones seemed uneasy.

Hurriedly the girls set to work loosening each other's ropes. Once they were freed, Sasha Cortez pulled a short piece of wire from her bra and set about picking the lock on the strongbox.

Suddenly they heard the chilling sound of automatic weapons being cocked just outside! Feeling helpless, Victory peered tremulously out the rear window of the van. Several yards along the quay, the Centurion was standing with his hand resting on the hilt of his short sword, staring down five shadowy male figures, three of whom were pointing Kalashnikov assault rifles at him!

"Put down those guns," he said calmly, "unless you want them shoved up your asses."

The man in the middle waved his companions back. "You must forgive us," he said, speaking with an Arabic accent. "We cannot be too careful. If we are caught, it would mean death by slow torture back home in Magristan. Do you have the ruby?"

"Once I see the color of your money, Colonel Kassim."

"Of course." Another wave of his hand, and a second man handed over a briefcase.

The henchman named Marcus opened it and took a few minutes examining what was inside. "It's all here, commander," he announced.

The Centurion reached down to his weapons belt and plucked out the ruby, handing in over. As Kassim came closer into the light, Victory let out a surprised gasp. The two men on either side of him were Ahmed and Hassan, the two bodyguards from the embassy! She had THOUGHT there was something odd about those two, the way they had gone out of their way to jump HER and let the Centurion go scot-free...

"The Heart of Jullana!" Kassim said reverently. "Back home, it will be the rallying point of my rebellion! The streets will run with the Sultan's blood, and..."

"Yes, whatever," the Centurion interrupted, giving the Arab a look of weary contempt. "I suggest you make haste. You may use my vehicle to drive to the airport," he added, gesturing towards the black van as he smiled. "I've even left an extra gift in the back, which I'm sure you will get a kick out of..."

While the supervillain and his henchman remained where they were, the five Arabs approached the van, reaching for the rear doors... which suddenly exploded outward completely off their hinges!

"Hello, boys!" Victory said, settling her powerbelt in place around her waist as she stepped over the open and now empty strongbox. "I hope this isn't a private party. I'd hate to tell you how dull my social life is these days..."

The men raised their guns, but the stunning superheroine plowed into them like a beautiful whirlwind, punching one, tossing another across the quay, spinning around like a ballet dancer to high kick a third. Ahmed snatched up one of the fallen rifles and swung it like a club, but Victory easily caught the blow with her bracelet, grabbing the bodyguard by his balls and lifting him off the ground.

"Boy, did you back the wrong horse!" the gorgeous superlady smirked, letting him drop to the quay gasping in agony.

"What is the meaning of this?" Kassim protested, still holding the precious ruby as he stared aghast at the groaning, barely conscious remains of his troops, utterly trounced by one skinny girl in a skimpy purple costume. "I am a colonel in the army of Magristan..."

"And guilty as hell from the sound of it," said Sasha Cortez, jumping out of the van with her gun and police badge raised in full view. "Receiving stolen goods, conspiracy, and a bunch of other crimes I'll bet! Assume the position, creep!"

Victory was shaken out of her complacency by the sound of a boat motor.

"The Centurion!" she gasped, sprinting along the pier.

Determined not to let him get away yet again, Victory did not hesitate one second. Summoning all her super strength and agility the heroine leaped off the pier at the villains' escape boat!

She landed just barely on the back edge...her heels teetered over the water as Victory tried to find her balance. The Centurion leapt forward, snagging the front of her halter exposing a gaping amount of cleavage but actually keeping her from tumbling off the side.

Big mistake creep! She thought clenching her fist.

Then Centurion tugged, pulling Victory forward still somewhat off balance. To her utter surprise the heroine found her lips pressing firmly against his! Quickly his tongue invaded her mouth, wriggling hotly between her soft lips and despite herself Victory felt frozen, almost enthralled by his masculine assertiveness.

Then without warning he pulled back with a smirk. "Until we meet again, Sweet Enchantress!"

Then he shoved her away and having never truly gained her balance, the poor heroine tumbled backwards into the water with a yelp. She swam quickly to the surface, reemerging in the wake of the speeding boat...now with no chance of catching up. Victory sputtered angrily and swam back to the pier.

Climbing out of the water, Sasha was waiting. The Latina had already restrained the Magristani traitors.

"He got away?" Det. Cortez groaned.

Victory flushed. "I wasn't quick enough."

Dripping wet the heroine began to wring out her hair. She noticed the way the bound men were staring at her, and realized how extra clingy her wet costume must be. She crossed her arms over her chest, at least covering her rock hard nipples, and hoping that the opaque material protected at least some of her virtue.

"Let him go, Victory," Cortez said, one hand holding down her velvet miniskirt against the brisk evening breeze. "We got back the Heart of Jullana, and saved Magristan from a military coup. That's the important thing. Ambassador Jafar will be ecstatic!"

"Yeah, I guess..." the sexy superheroine agreed.

"Funny, though," the detective mused, smiling. "Putting our weapons in the strong box makes sense, but then leaving it where we could get at it? Major miscalculation on his part, don't you think?"

Victory nodded, but suspected it was not such a mistake at all. Sometimes she just couldn't figure that man out...

THE END

~Undercover Victory~

The Linville section of Capitol City had seen better days. Once a thriving industrial center, it was now a maze of tenement apartments, warehouses, and abandoned factories. It was also the home of the notorious Bar With No Name, a secret hangout where the city's colorful supervillains could network in peace.

On the rooftop across the alley, Victory quietly shifted position, her lithe, athletic body clad in her distinctive purple Lycra hot pants and top. The superheroine waited patiently, brushing one hand through her long chestnut brown tresses and keeping low so that her silver bracelets, power belt and boots wouldn't be seen. It had taken her a week to track down the Centurion's former henchman, recently released from jail. The thug had been none too happy to see Victory, since allowing her to get the better of him was the reason he was an EX-henchman. But the beautiful young heroine could be very persuasive. After hanging by his ankles from the top of the Brisbane Bridge for fifteen minutes, the goon had been all too eager to give her the address.

Victory had been watching the building for five nights, the pretty green eyes behind her mask missing nothing. Both nights she had seen the waitresses and barmen come and go, along with a dozen or so low-level criminal types, but so far no sign of the Centurion. The major players probably had their own secret entrance. Somehow she had to get inside. And she couldn't very well go waltzing in as Jordin Tyler...

Two young women wearing light coats were coming down the alley. Victory watched them knock at the street door in a certain pattern... two raps, then three, then one. The waitresses, right on time! As they passed inside and the door closed again, here came the third girl, twenty yards behind them but hurrying to catch up. The heroine's green eyes narrowed behind her mask.

Three minutes later, the doorman heard the knock. Two, three, one. "You're late, Gloria!" he griped as he swung open the door. A pretty girl with long chestnut hair tried to slip through, but he put out a beefy hand and caught her squarely on the chest. "What the fuck? You're not Gloria!"

"I'm Jor-- er Jodie," the girl said. "Gloria's got a bad cold and said I could sub for her. How about it? Please? I need the bucks!"

The doorman balked. "I dunno..."

"Lookit, she gave me her uniform and everything," the girl said, opening her coat and letting it fall to the floor. Underneath she was wearing nothing but a black lace dress so sheer that it was practically lingerie. The doorman's eyes followed her shapely legs, clad in high heels and black thigh high stockings, roamed over her tiny ruffled skirt, and finally settled on the plunging halter neckline that showed off the creamy smooth valley in between her two firm, beautiful boobs. He was even able to make out the outline of her soft nipples through the sheer lace. The only thing out of place about her outfit was a pair of silver bracelets, but with his mind on her tits he barely noticed.

"Well, whadaya think?" the girl said, noticing the growing bulge in his pants.

"Yeah, yeah, ok then," the doorman said, waving her through.

Jordin let out a heartfelt sigh of relief. It was humiliating enough being dressed like this, in skimpy clothing taken from the girl she had left tied up out of sight. But without her powers, she was vulnerable! Of course she could tap her bracelets together and change back into Victory at a moment's notice, but in the meantime any ordinary man could easily overpower her before she had the chance! THEN where would she be?

In a very short time, the bar seemed to fill up. There was a small stage with a stripper's pole, but it wasn't being used. No music was playing. Raised up like a balcony was the VIP section with half a dozen tables, where the big-time villains discussed plans while the henchmen and low level crooks drank and caroused on the main floor. Jordin recognized March Hare (dressed in an old fashioned suit, umbrella, top hat, and rabbit ears), Black Swan (a brunette woman with wings, wearing a skimpy black leotard and a mask with a beak), the Lash (a man with deep purple full body suit, a cape and a whip coiled at his waist), and Frostbyte (blue body suit, white skin and blue hair).

Although she felt a little bit self-conscious in a lair full of villains, Jordin wasn't concerned about being recognized. With a skirt this short and a nearly see-though top, she was sure that none of the males would even look at her face! And sure enough nobody seemed to give her a second thought from the neck up as she hopped from table to table taking orders. Much to her dismay however the customers were very handsy. As she milled about the thugs kept putting their impertinent hands under her skirt as if they owned her, stroking her stocking tops and patting her round little bottom. The rest of the waitresses seemed used to it, even flirting and encouraging it. However it wasn't long before reserved Jordin felt heat rising to her cheeks, making her glad for the dim lighting so that the men couldn't she how much she must be blushing.

"Two beers, a double bourbon neat," said one man, "and something extra if you shake that fine little ass for me, sweetcheeks."

Jordin suddenly realized that the man and the two with him were wearing the uniforms of the Centurion's henchmen! The incognito superheroine glanced up at the VIP section and almost gasped out loud. There was the Centurion himself, his Roman helmet tucked under his arm as he took a seat at a table with March Hare and Black Swan! The very sight of him this close excited her as she recalled the times the two of them had clashed. Her pulse beat a little faster. Her tongue darted out and dabbed at her glossed lips.

"Um... two beers, double bourbon," she repeated, trying to ignore the henchman's hand caressing her pert tail. Now all she had to do was get up to the balcony without attracting attention...

Just then dance music began to play from hidden speakers as the spotlight came on, illuminating the stage with the stripper pole. One of the other girls brushed past Jordin. "What are you waiting for, new girl, an engraved invitation? Get your skinny ass up there! I'll take them their drinks."

Jordin looked up at the pole, her cheeks must have been glowing red. "But..."

The other girl sighed. "If you're subbing for Gloria, surely she told you about this!"

"Um... sure," Jordin said.

The girl handed her a shot of whiskey. "Here. If it's your first time you might need a bracer."

Jordin shook her head numbly, wondering how she had gotten herself into this. She didn't see any way out of it. Her knees felt a little wobbly as she mounted the steps to the stage. Then she was standing in the spotlight, with everyone looking at her. The VIPs on the balcony went on with their conversations, but in the lower tier, the natives were getting restless. If she didn't move soon, the supervillains would look to see what the problem was, and the Centurion would surely recognize her! Slowly Jordin began to sway her upper body back and forth, letting her hips move in a sensual circular motion.

The men in the audience looked up with interest, but clearly expecting more. Jordin caught hold of the pole with her right hand and let her body spin around it once, twice. Wrapping one silken leg around the cool chrome, she leaned back, letting her luxurious brunette hair fly behind her as she whirled around. Stepping back a bit, she leaped upwards a couple of feet, the skirt of her costume riding up and flashing her black lace panties as she caught the pole with both hands, straddling it with both stocking-clad legs as she slowly allowed herself to slide downwards.

The men watched her, licking their lips. "Take it off!" one of them called.

Jordin closed her eyes, hugging the pole and letting the smooth chrome rub between her plump breasts as she gracefully rose upright again. Then, standing on tiptoe, once more she leaned way over, letting her body spin like a corkscrew around the pole as she sank toward the floor. Hoisting her body upwards again like a gymnast, she locked her knees around the pole as her body dangled upside down, her skirt sliding down her torso and showing off her sleek, toned abs. As her hands touched the floor, she completed a slow, sensual cartwheel.

In spite of herself, Jordin was getting aroused. Her nipples were like hard little bullets rubbing against the sheer fabric of her costume. Somehow she was able to keep improvising moves without actually stripping until the music ended. By then her face was flushed and she had worked up a light sweat. She skipped back down the steps of the stage as quickly as she could, finding herself surrounded by the Centurion's henchmen.

"That was great, babydoll," one of them said, thrusting a cold beer into her hand.

"Thank you," Jordin managed to say. She was thirsty enough to gulp down half the bottle before she realized what she was doing. The alcohol settled heavily on her almost empty stomach, tingling as it seemed to go straight to her head. "Excuse me, but I don't feel so--"

Suddenly the incognito heroine let out a strangled "Eek!" of surprise as one of the men reached in between her legs, letting his fingers slide along her cleft!

"Damn, baby," he smirked, rubbing her pussy lips back and forth through the flimsy fabric of her panties. "Gettin a little damp under the hood already, ain't we?"

"Hey! What the...," Jordin gasped grabbing his wrist...yet her hips involuntarily spread a little wider as his strong fingers pushed aside the crotch of her panties and touched her shaven, pink slit skin to skin. "D-d-don't... do that..nnnNN."

"Come on, slut," the thug said as his other hand cupped her left breast over the sheer dress. "How about a private lap dance?"

"Hey, nancy boy," sneered a voice from a nearby table of guys dressed in black leather jackets... Black Swan's men! "Maybe the lady don't like Vienna sausages!"

"Shut yer beak, birdbrain," the Centurion's henchman replied contemptuously. "Go shit in a pond or something."

Chairs scraped on the floor as Black Swan's men got to their feet. The Centurion's man yanked his hand from Jordin's panties as his two compatriots joined him. It crossed the superheroine's mind that these two rival gangs must have a long-standing grudge. If they started to fight it would draw the main guys' attention, and there went any chance of her getting close to the Centurion!

"Wait, please don't fight," the girl begged, interposing her scantily clad body in between them. "I'll... um... I'll dance for you!"

Snaking her arms alluringly around the neck of the Centurion's man, Jordin gently pushed him back into his chair, her shapely hips continuing to rhythmically undulate back and forth at his eye level, her tiny skirt swishing seductively one way, then the other. As she leaned forward, shaking her shoulders to make her breasts jiggle, she wiggled her booty for the benefit of the other men behind her, hearing a chorus of admiring groans.

"Yeah show off that phat ass, mama!" someone called as the men from both tables made a ring around her.

"That is grade A government inspected Rump Roast, that is!"

"Shake it, baby, shake it!"

What am I doing? Jordin asked herself. This is so humiliating, I should just transform and go after...

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone thrust another beer between her lips. Caught by surprise, Jordin couldn't refuse or it would come gushing out all over her. And she didn't really want to. Her head spinning, the girl did a graceful pirouette, letting her little skirt fly up around her waist and briefly flash her black lace panties. Turning back to the seated man, she brought up one long, stocking-clad leg and planted it in his lap. His hands reached up to caress her silken gam as he pulled her astraddle him.

"Drink up babe," said one of Black Swan's men, offering her a tall glass of what smelled like straight tequila.

"No!" Jordin gasped.

Enough was enough, she thought. Even if it blew her cover, it was time to transform! But as she moved to bring her wrists together, two men seized her arms and held them.

"Please!" Jordin whimpered, struggling to resist as the tequila was pressed to her lips. She gulped it down, feeling the liquor spread warmly through her bloodstream.