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Chapter 6
by fyreant
How do you deal with the situation?
Take the two remaining thugs up to the VIP room, get them in a compromising position, and interrogate
This mention of a mysterious owner catches your interest. Maybe you can shake this person down for a little information in the future, and threaten to make life uncomfortable for them if they don't pass things they hear along to you. Instead of just forcefully trying to take these two on (even a 10% chance of getting overwhelmed again is too much - your reputation as a starting hero is already in jeopardy, here), you decide that you can handle this in a more subtle, fun, teasing kind of way.
"Aww, come on. Surely big boys like you don't need to be playing with a girl's toys? Hmm... I sense that you're gonna be tough to convince, Mr. 'King'. But I will tell you that there are already some police assembling out there. If you don't want to get caught up in the dragnet, my two strapping roosters, you ought to take me up to the VIP room where we can discuss you returning my gear... politely." you whisper the last word with a seductive twinge.
Motivated by either the sexy pose you strike or the need to get away from suspicion before the police cautiously take control of the club and drag all those guys you just beat down off in handcuffs, the two young men lucky enough to get out of the brawl with all their teeth and bones intact exchange a quick glance, then nod and hustle up a plain metal staircase, entering a code on a keypad and motioning you to follow them in.
The decor inside the room is even tackier than most of the club; big canary yellow pleather couches and a minibar stocked with the kind of sugary gimmick liqueurs that liquor stores sold at a discount. You give a sultry sway of your hips as you unhurriedly walk over to one of the couches and flop down in it, crossing your legs. The two young thugs look at you nervously yet hungrily. The skinny one with the stupid laugh dares to sit down next to you, but your attention is focused on the one who still has your batons - and probably has the information you want, too.
"So," you say cooly, "I get it, I really do. This was just a small time bar brawl that escalated until it got out of hand. I don't want to have to tell the cops that your friends were responsible for starting this... but you're putting me in a difficult position, not cooperating like this. As a sign of good faith I won't 'put you to bed' as roughly as I did all of your friends down there who are going to be waking up in a hospital. But there's other things I'm interested in... so let's put more on the table."
You slowly crossed and uncrossed your legs, giving them an excellent view of the space between your legs, even through the heavy material of the "semi-bulletproof" bikini bottom you wore. As much as you didn't want to admit it, that ****, messy struggling and wrestling down there got you a little bit excited in ways other than an adrenaline rush... so it was easy to make your tone sultry and inviting, because you partly meant it. "The owner of this place. I'm interested. Judging by how much tough-guys like you seem to enjoy it here, I'm going to guess they have connections with the underworld. I'm not here to take him down - I'm just a heroine getting her start, and I need people who can whisper the juiciest gossip in my ear. "
"But before I can meet him, I need a little information on him. So... you give me a few details, and hand back my gear, of course... and if the cops come up here, I'll tell them that you were both sitting in here, minding your own business like good little boys.. At least, until I walked in and things got sweaty." you gave a little confident laugh, running your hand down your mostly unclothed chest and midsection. You can see both guys' bodies coiling like a spring, fresh perspiration beading on their foreheads as they looked to one another to see if either was going for it.
Of course, with a few quick martial arts moves, you could probably have them in a compromising position of the painful rather than pleasant kind, and interrogate them by **** before taking back your weapons and leaving. But this whole business, going out in costume and fighting in a dive like this, has gotten you really excited... maybe it wouldn't hurt to give them a little show?
How far do you go?
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Perils of a Novice Superheroine
A generic superheroing setting drenched with sex and scandal
Acropolis City, the center of super-human and caped crusader activity in this particular world - with its own dizzying highs and lows, high-tech skylines and slums standing in stark, four-color contrast, it provided everything that a costumed megalomaniac or masked vigilante could ask for. In fact, as is usually the case where colorful masked characters are the norm, it has become something of an institution by this point. But although the mere existence of costumed heroes and villains no longer shocks people, these people - who, by their very nature, thrive on attention - keep finding new ways to stand out from the crowd and attract the eye. This last goal tends to get a lot of emphasis in the most simple, sexualized way possible. For reasons that the world's most brilliant scientists have yet to explain, latent super-abilities seem to manifest more often in women than men by a ratio of 3 to 1 or more. This is true even when the superpower isn't "natural"; paranormal artifacts fall into their hands, esoteric martial arts schools never seem to have a male heir, the technological prototypes they test always seem to be the ones that are most easily used or abused for good and evil. Unfortunately, the glory days of the past where citizens were happy to see any old masked do-gooder show up are over - in recent years, Acropolis City has established a ranking system of heroes where those who get high marks from the citizens and resolve incidents are rewarded with corporate sponsorships and (most coveted of all) seats at the prestigious League of Propriety. Those who intimidate the populace, cause excessive collateral damage, or simply don't excite anyone, garnering low rankings, get 'asked' to move to less prestigious cities. Few superheroes want to get stuck battling clans of villainous hillbillies and corrupt small-town sheriffs for the rest of their careers, so they're always eager to please the influential citizens of Acropolis City (judges, eminent scientists, first responders, and of course the all-important reporters). On the other side of the law, a similar dynamic predominates; only the most glamorous and charismatic costumed ne'er-do-wells can make it in this town. And so, the novice superheroines just learning the ways of battling for justice and order, without any team to back them up, always end up patrolling the skeeviest, most undesirable slums of the city and taking on the most thankless rescues. As if that weren't bad enough, most of them feel obliged to dress in ways that get more outlandish and revealing with every passing year while they fight the good fight and/or feed their craving for attention, depending on how you see the 'cape life'. As if that weren't troublesome enough, the superhuman mutations that make so many of these heroes' careers possible also result in greatly increased sexual sensitivity, particularly in females. The adventures and misadventures that these spandex-clad lady crusaders get into are often too hot to print for the kind of comics that their young admirers would read. Messy mistakes will be made, but you don't want to disappoint your readers, do you? So let the League know what kind of superheroine you are, your chosen name, powers, and appearance, and they'll send you out on your first patrols. Good luck.
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Updated on Jun 15, 2025
by micdan282
Created on Nov 30, 2016
by fyreant
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