Let's ask some more questions

“Uh-huh,” I nodded thoughtfully. “Can anyone remove the sticker? Or will it come off for any other reason?”

“Um,” the raven-haired magician’s dark red lips twisted uneasily, “I, uh, I kind of messed up the spell. I had intended it to be removed by anyone, but, instead, only the person who placed the sticker-spell can remove it.”

“Really,” I frowned. “Can it come off on its own or wear away, such as in the shower?”

“No,” she said in a small voice, shaking her head, her dark locks waving back and forth. “I really, really screwed up. I thought I had put in a time limit. I didn’t.”

“Yet you said they were temporary.”

“In the sense that they do come off, if in a rather limited fashion.”

“Huh.” I thought for a moment, idly looking over the brunette in her costume/uniform, particularly enjoying the fishnet stockings running from beneath her shiny black leather thigh high over the knee heeled boots to her shiny black bottoms. “Say, there’s one thing I’ve always wondered. Do you wear shorts or a bodysuit?”

“Um,” her bright cyan eyes glanced away nervously. “Right now, shorts. Sometimes it’s a dual-toned bodysuit or a skirt.”

“Hmmm,” I nodded. “Do me a favor. Turn around and bend over.”

“Yes, sir,” the heroine swallowed, turning her back to me and leaning forward over a large box in the closet. I took a deep, slow breath. Reaching forward, I delicately lifted the tails of her black tuxedo jacket up over bottom and admired the tautness of the leather stretched across her backside.

“Another question. As skin-tight as these shorts look, can a pair of panties fit in between?”

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips. “Yes, so long as I wear a g-string or a smaller panty.”

My eyes narrowed. “Any particular cloth or color? Or do you just keep it simple when you wave your hands and change your clothes on the fly?”

“I, um, I don’t change my panties when I perform that spell. It – it has no effect on underwear.”

“Not even bras?” I arched an eyebrow.

“No. I – I haven’t worn a bra in years.”

“Wow, you are such a super-slut.”

She looked at me over her shoulder. “Am – am I good little super-slut?”

Huh. Wonder where that’s coming from. “Depends. On what you have on under your shorts.”

With a wave of her hand, a cloud of sparkly darkness appeared above her head. It flowed down, encircling her body, her costume slowly disappearing beneath the twinkling smoke. Passing over her firm backside, the t-back of her low-rise panties appeared. Leering, I watched the dark vapor dissipate around her feet, her boots altered into a pair of shiny black peep toe lace up stiletto heels. Slowly, Zatanna turned back towards me, leaning back on her hands, a small demure yet wicked smile on her lips, and spread her thighs open, a sheer black mesh poorly hiding her womanhood.

“You are a –”

The closet door crashed open, a woman’s voice snapping, “What is going on in here? Zatanna! Why are you –?”