The worst of both worlds

There wasn't any way to get out of this was there?

The most she could do was damage control. They go home not knowing that this was her, she never came back to the strip club, and she could file this away as an awful, humiliating experience to just do her best to forget about.

Which meant committing. Freddy had a point; they'd already seen her as good as naked, and it was humiliating, but not as much as them knowing it was her. Her best chance was making sure she didn't act like Mary.

"Who's Mary?" she said, her voice shaking a little.

She took a step forwards, hoping she wasn't shaking too much. Then she tried to dance, swaying to the music how she imagined an actual stripper would, rather than an eighteen year old superheroine trying desperately to get a bit more money for her super-family, because she'd assumed they'd been spending it on lightning-related repairs rather than strip clubs.

It was easily the most embarrassing thing she'd ever done.

"Doesn't matter, you're way better," Freddy said, slouching forward slightly. "Bend over?"

She obeyed quickly, precisely because it was something she'd never normally do, her boobs jiggling with her swaying and her hands on her hips, leaving them bare for the three men to stare at with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Apparently, even apparently being regulars here, the novelty of seeing actual boobs didn't wear off. Mary blushed as they gawked openly.

Then she hooked her fingers in her panties, knowing that she wasn't expected to keep that on for a private show. Sliding them down her bare legs proved the new most humiliating moment of her life, as her siblings got far too good a view of her pussy.

She swallowed, trying to hide the note of begging in her eyes. They could not know that this was her!

"What's the mask for?" Billy said.

"Um, I... I need a secret identity," she said. She had worn the lightning bolt costume after all. Hopefully that was convincing.

"Turn around?" Billy said.

"That's the spirit!" Freddy said.

She obliged with as much grace as she could muster, gratefully looking away from them, and doing her very best to forget the fact that now she was stark naked in front of her family. She shook her ass in the least Mary way she could think of.

And then felt a hand. She squealed.

"No touching!" Mary squealed. _That _was going way too far.

"See! I told you," she heard Freddy's voice. "Mary would never be as slutty as this, look at her go!"

There was no stopping a whimper at that. She was still blushing, glad none of them could see her expression at that, showing off her ass to them.

"That's a butt," she heard Darla said, followed by a giggle.

Mary's cheeks blazed hotter.

"My friend here's dumb," Freddy said. "Could you give him a proper lap dance?"

"What?" Mary squealed. She must have misheard, right? There was no way...

"This guy, he needs a lap dance. We paid enough for that, I know," Freddy repeated.

Mary turned back around, every muscle in her body screaming for her to at least cover up with her arms, even if she knew it was a terrible idea. Billy, well, Shazam sat in a bulky trenchcoat covering up the gaudy outfit, his overabundance of layers a contrast to Mary's lack of anything.

She was completely naked in front of them! Couldn't that be enough?

But no. If she backed down, they'd go home thinking she had to be Mary. If she played the part, if she let them think she was just a stripper who had no idea who they were...

Legs weak, Mary made herself move closer, leaning forward over Billy and biting her lip in a **** attempt to keep from whimpering from his eyes on her. All their eyes on her.

"How about we just settle this the easy way?" Eugene said, after an intensely humiliating few minutes. He scribbled something on a dollar bill, then showed it to Mary. "Say this."

She read the one word, and her eyes instantly went wide.

"Huh? Why?" she said, trying to play innocent.

Well, if innocent was the right word for being stark naked and bent over forwards, with all the most private spots of her body there for her foster family to see. This was a nightmare.

"Doesn't matter," Eugene said. "We just want to know you can."

"I... I'd rather not," Mary whimpered.

"Go on," he said.

"I don't want to."

"Why not? It's just a word."

"I'm not saying Shazam!" Mary snapped.

Then had just enough time to realise her mistake and wince as a bolt of lightning shot down through the ceiling.

Good news: she was dressed again. Bad news: she was still bent over Billy, and now each and every one of her foster siblings knew she'd performed at a strip club, and now had far too good and detailed an idea of how she looked stark naked.

Mary screamed, turned, and ran out of the private room with her cape trailing behind her in sheer panic, not wanting to transform back. She'd just collect her clothes, money and go, and then figure out how on earth she could look them in the eye again.

Tearful, humiliated, Mary made it back to her belongings. She scrambled with her clothes, before whispering "Shazam!" and reverting to her real, nude self.

She'd left her panties behind. The thought hit her with the lightning bolt. Not that she wanted to get them back, oh god. Discarding her mask, she took the much easier path of going without underwear, and was halfway to pulling her jeans back on before she heard someone approach behind her.

"Well, what do we have here?" she heard the manager's voice.

Mary squealed, grabbing to pull her shirt down over her bare boobs, trembling. God, she'd had enough of him too.

She'd never come back here again. She swore herself that.

And he had a disturbing smile on his face.

"So you're Lady Sparklefingers," he said.

Mary's eyes widened.

"No, no, no!" she said, voice high. "You've got the wrong..."

"I saw that," he said. "Cut the shit. No one else can bring lightning bolts through my ceiling. I have had it up to here with you people! Though a superheroine on my stage does improve matters a little."

"Um..."

"So here's the deal," he said. "I say that like you've got a fucking choice. I've got pictures of your secret human identity now, I'm sure that'll make it easy for people to find out who you are, and probably your little friends too."

"You can't!" Mary said, suddenly very afraid of where this is going.

"I can," he said. "But I won't, on one condition. Those lightning bolts, the fight, that guy with the weird eye you brought through here a while ago... that cost a lot to repair, not to mention the lost revenue from girls quitting after."

"What do you want me to do?" Mary said, trembling. She could guess.

"I want you back and performing," he said. "You're popular, even if you're shit at dancing, your body's good where it counts. You can keep half your earnings, but I want the rest, until you make up what your little group's cost me. Let's say once a week, give you plenty of time to do your hero stuff. You can go be Lady Sparklefingers or whatever you call yourself, but one night ever week you're going to come here and strip for my paying audience. Plus you'll do any events that book you in addition. I pick the song, who gets a private show with you, and don't think you're going to get away with any panties with more to them than a g-string like you did today. Anything else and your identity gets leaked. So what do you say?"