Emily goes on stage next.

Batgirl ended her routine with a spectacular flip on the pole, hanging off of it with only her legs and covering her breasts with her hands and offering the audience a knowing smile. Emily didn’t notice, but she had been creeping closer to the edge of the stage while she had watched the act, and now she was standing at the outside of the crowd, watching this red-haired beauty without a word.

“Finally,” someone hissed, grabbing her by the hand. “You were supposed to be here a half hour ago!”

Emily tried to pull her hand away but couldn’t. She had already been dragged up the stairs and backstage, and now she was surrounded by a dozen half-naked superheroes and heroines, sci fi icons, and one Wednesday Addams with her pierced pale tits out.

“You’re on!” the leader, who seemed to be dressed as Sclubby Wolverine, said. He pushed her onto the stage and right under the spotlight that Batgirl had just vacated a moment ago.

“But I’m not—“ she stammered. She stumbled to a halt, looking out over the crowd, but it was hard to make out faces under this bright a light. “Wearing panties,” she muttered.