Stormfront

Bewildered and disoriented, Dick Grayson found himself in an unfamiliar, yet lavish room. He recalled the vivid dreams he'd experienced, filled with famous superheroes managed by a corporation called Vought. His gaze landed on a set of pictures on a nearby dresser, depicting a striking black-haired woman alongside a group known as The Seven.

"The Seven...? Never heard of 'em."

Dick furrowed his brows. They looked like low rent Justice League knock offs. Some he recognized from his visions. He frowned, recalling bits and pieces of the depravity this world's heroes got up to in their spare time. Especially the blonde asshole in the American flag cape. It donned on the former boy wonder that what he saw was more than a bad dream. He truly had wound up on another Earth.

He arose from the bed, the cold air hitting his bare chest.

"Why am I naked?"

He took the blanket and wrapped it around his waist to cover his modesty. The detective took note of the plethora of "Vought" branded merchandise along the walls and shelves, most of which were of the dark haired woman from the photo. His eyes fell on the gigantic poster of her above the bed. "Stormfront" printed near the bottom with her striking a pose.

At first he thought he was in the room of a fan of hers, but he dismissed that theory the second he opened the walk-in closet.

Her dark supersuit and high heeled boots were the only items inside. It didn't quite look like the kind of thing a hero would wear. There was something sinister about it he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"You need a better suit designer, lady."

Dick closed the doors.

"Good evening and welcome to our special breaking news coverage!"

The TV blared, making Dick flinch slightly.

"In a stunning revelation, leaked photos have surfaced that appear to show Stormfront as the wife of Vought International's founder, Frederick Vought, who was a known Nazi. These images, if authentic, could have wide-ranging implications for the company and its future."

"This bitch is a NAZI?!"

Nightwing knew nothing about Stormfront aside from she had poor taste in costumes. He assumed the heroes of this world were wastes of skin and oxygen, but he didn't think they were Nazi bad!

"The connection between Stormfront and Frederick Vought, a known Nazi scientist, raises serious questions about the origins and the true intentions of Vought International, a company that has dominated the superhero landscape for decades."

At first he was disgusted by the revelation. He felt a lump in his stomach. He had so many questions. Why was he on this Earth? Why was he in Stormfront's room? Where was she anyway?

His eyes widened. How would he explain to an evil supernazi how his naked ass wound up in her room?

Though, his reason and logical deduction took a backseat. The more her face flashed on the screen, the less he could take his eyes off her.

Her pale skin, her dark costume, and her salacious smile. He couldn't get her out of his head!

His muscles quivered. His breath quickened.

His chest tightened, and the pressure intensified.

Dick's chest muscles lost their firmness, becoming softer as they expanded. His ribcage shifted to accommodate his new form. His once chiseled abs flattened, creating a narrower and more feminine waist. At the same time, his pectorals softened as mammary glands formed. His nipples grew larger and rounder, hardening as his budding breasts continued to expand.

"Tits?!"

Dick cried out, his voice fluctuating in pitch as he desperately cupped his newfound bust. He desperately pressed his hands down to try and stall their development. All he succeeded in doing was tweaking his newly sensitive nipples, sending strange and foreign signals to his brain.

His shoulders narrowed, the once-powerful deltoids diminishing and appearing more refined. Dick's arms lost their bulk but maintained an athletic elegance. His hands, formerly large and strong, became smaller and more delicate, with slender, tapered fingers and manicured nails.

As his upper body settled into its new form, Dick felt a peculiar sensation in his hips. They broadened, creating a more pronounced curve as his pelvic bones adjusted. His thighs became shapely and feminine, while his calves assumed a more graceful shape.

Dick felt an odd tingling as his male anatomy began to recede. The skin and tissue reorganized themselves into female reproductive organs. His insides tensed and heated up, the warmth growing in his crotch and moistening relentlessly. Those same signals from before were shot right to his brain, sending pleasing endorphins unlike anything he had ever felt before. He couldn't help but caress his new breasts, cooing lightly. He felt both **** and euphoric, experiencing his first female orgasm as wave after wave of pleasure seized his changing body.

"How... how is this even possible?" he stuttered, his voice now gentle and feminine.

Dick's face underwent its own transformation. His jawline became rounder and softer, his nose slimmed down, and his cheekbones grew more prominent. His eyes, once fierce and resolute, became gentler and more enticing. Lastly, his short, dark hair transformed into flowing black tresses that reached his shoulders.

With the transformation complete, Dick stared at his new body in disbelief. He now resembled the woman in the photographs, and a mixture of shock, fear, and embarrassment overwhelmed him.

"This is so weird," he mumbled to himself as he picked up the sleek black and red jumpsuit.

"But I have to figure out what's going on."

He paused, glancing between the suit and his now very nude very female form.

"Ugh... Right... Underwear."

Nightwing pulled out a drawer, greeted by an assortment of colorful lingerie. He hesitantly rifled through the garments until he rolled his eyes and just went with a lacy bra and panty set. Slipping the panties on was easy, the soft material hugging his hips and ass nicely. The bra on the other hand was a struggle. He'd unhooked Starfire's more times than he could count, but he'd never had to put one on himself!

Eventually, he went with the lazy route of hooking it around his ribs and hoisting it up over his boobs.

"Alright!"

He huffed in Stormfront's alluring tone.

"Now the rest of this crap..."

Struggling to put on the tight suit, Dick couldn't help but grumble.

"Ugh, this thing is way too snug," he complained, wiggling his new body into the outfit. Once the jumpsuit was finally on, he glanced down at the high-heeled boots.

"Do I really have to wear these?" he sighed, dreading the thought of walking around in heels. Nevertheless, he pulled the boots on and stood up, wobbling slightly as he tried to find his balance. He clasped the silver belt with an ominous perched eagle as the buckle. Wasn't that a part of Nazi symbolism? Very subtle. It made him sick just thinking about being mistaken for some nazi bitch. He donned her gloves and silver armlets with the American flag logo on each of them.

He noticed a pair of "S" shaped earrings lying on the dresser and reluctantly put them on as well.

Finally dressed, Dick stared at his reflection, now fully embodying Stormfront. He blushed, his eyes falling to his deep cleavage with the Vought "V" as the suit's zipper.

"I need to find someone who can help me fix this," he resolved, his expression determined.

There was no way he could stay like this. There had to be some way to get back to his Earth.