The book decides for her

I was about to put my pencil to paper again to write a detailed description of my costume when I felt my clothes change. The scruffy jeans and brown sweater I was hiding myself in suddenly and abruptly turning into a superhero outfit. If it could be called that.

Apparently the rulebook had taken costume to mean something along the lines of a adult parody of Alexandria's costume. It was still a black bodysuit, but it was skintight and lacked the armor plating that prevented such a thing from attracting negative PR attention. This costume definitely was not meant for the Protectorate Pals cartoon.

Point one for that was the cleavage it showed, that I hastily covered up with my hands to prevent committing my first crime in costume; public indecency. The neckline went below my breasts, my bra having melded into the rest of the spandex (though it felt and breathed more like silk, some detached part of my brain noticed). My new large and perky breasts were being held up by the suit itself somehow, the window allowing the inside halfs of my boobs to be seen clear as day.

There were odds and ends done in silver to contrast with the black. There was a utility belt that hung on my new hips with a two concentric gold circles for the clasp. The knee high boots that had two inch heels of all things, and the gloves that went to my elbows that I had no idea what the term for them were. They were too thick to be opera gloves, and the knuckles had subtle bumps on them like there were supposed to be spikes but they were filed down.

And then there was the short cape, which I put to use covering myself up with much better success than my hands. I expected it'd hang down to just above my new and improved butt if I hadn't been using it as a modesty blanket at the moment. I noted that the claps were the same as my belt and there was a large graphic of them on the cape itself sometime after getting my bearings.

The worst thing about the costume was the hidden zipper I could feel running along the inside of my crotch, especially because my panties were gone as well. I guess it would be useful if I needed to visit the bathroom in costume to hide my identity? I didn't notice because it didn't effect my vision at all but looking into the bus station glass like a mirror I could see a large golden visor hiding the upper half of my face. Well. At least the costume had one thing I wanted.

I go to edit the rule because I don't want to be a stripper when I pause again. I didn't want this costume. But I've made a rule that I would succeed at everything I wanted. I look nervously at the rule book. Either the rule book couldn't (or wouldn't) protect me from itself, or I actually secretly wanted to look like a slutty Alexandria.

I look down at myself. To be fair, it did hide my identity very well. No one would be able to connect washboard and sensibly clothed Taylor with whatever name I went with for this buxom and walking PR nightmare. And it's not like I needed a practical costume with Alexandria's power and my always succeed rule.

I close the notebook, finding a compartment in my belt perfectly sized for it. Then I lift off the ground with Alexandria's-no. With my flight. This was supposed to be fun, and apparently showing off my new body was kinda fun. I push my flight to the limit, flying into the sky above the city with a whoop of joy.

Time to go punch some villains.