They get busy with you in a hurry, putting you in an awkward situation with Doc [MMM/FF sex]

It was funny, really. Most women might be worried about their virtue, or at least their safety, in this situation. The fabric-covered head of the cock of a man you didn't know anything about except his last name, his vocation, and his apparent lack of scruples was eagerly rubbing up against the crack of your ass, guiding itself towards your crotch and leaving absolutely no doubt as to its owner's intentions. According to your 'ex-spandex' mentor back in college, while superheroines had been sexualized for as long as they'd existed, the kinds of things they actually did (or had done to them) in costume used to be a lot more restrained. Back in the 1930s it was a stolen kiss from a beau she'd rescued. In the 1940s it was a pat on the bottom by an eligible bachelor or hunky reporter at a public event. By the 1950s criminals had gotten less shy about putting their hands on a heroine's assets when they got her tied up but it seldom went further than that. From there on it had accelerated... by the 1960s, gossip abounded about heroines and villainesses alike trading outright sex for favors from men in positions of power. In the 70s the first 'lust ****' made their debut and spread like wildfire among the wicked. And so it went, until by the time you were born, the tabloids were filled with stories about super-powered individuals engaging in public orgies. By the time you'd gone on your first real patrol here in Acropolis City, the fact that you'd had messy, not-altogether-consensual sex with a couple of horny young gangbangers wasn't even newsworthy, buried under the account of how you'd brought in Diamond 10.

You hadn't ever been quite sure how you felt about all of this and you still weren't. On the one hand, well, sex feels good, even the kind that you didn't want to admit to liking. Physically, and also emotionally - the sensation of being so desired that someone just can't control themselves around you. To make a lowly "bad guy" so horny that all thoughts of escape and self preservation deserted them in favor of doing anything to get their hands on you was exciting. But on the other hand, there were feelings of indignation that all of your training and hard work, all your good intentions and bravery, everything about you as a superheroine was secondary to your sex appeal. Like there was an unwritten rule that it's okay to treat you as an object.

As Officer Jameson's guttural chuckling sounded in your ear and his fingers hiked up your skirt and began rubbing the spot on your pelvis right above your genitals through your panties, slowly working their way downwards towards your flower, the words of your mentor Bright Owl come to mind.

"When you come to be seen as superhuman, in some ways you also become less than human. What the people come to view you with awe, they lose their empathy. That's human nature; you can't stop it, only learn to live with it." When you'd talked with Owl about how wonderful it was that Acropolis City had so many strong, courageous women and how they were changing the world as role models, your response had been a cynical laugh and a gentle rebuke; "The institution of the League of Propriety hasn't dismantled the age-old patriarchy or anything like that. On the contrary, it unintentionally reinforces the domination of women, especially in the arena of sexuality. People with superhuman powers are threatening, and WOMEN with superpowers are especially threatening to men. It's pretty understandable really - everyone in the world has at some point lost sleep wondering if someday all supra-normal people in the world will decide to just take over. If the League of Propriety suddenly decided they didn't like the U.S. government and moved to topple it, who could stop them? So to reassure the populace, the League of Propriety has a tacit policy of pushing to the opposite **** as hard as they can. When all of these powerful, assertive, fearless women dress in ways that titillate or invite arousal, the message is 'You, average guy on the street, don't have to be afraid of us - because even though we could crush you like a bug, at the end of the day we're still just females here for your viewing pleasure and sexual fulfillment.' That's the mask they are asked to wear. And the funny thing about masks is that after a few years wearing them, your persona tends to change to fit them."

You had always thought that stuff was just standard cynical-mentor reverse psychology to encourage you to better yourself. Now, you can see that there's a lot of truth to it. Hell, in the case of Beast-Beauty (who seemed to be so enamored with her favorite cop, and vice-versa, that you wondered if she'd even show up at the symposium), there was nothing 'unintentional' about her rejection of equality.

Even so, you couldn't really be mad at her. It wasn't fair to expect her to understand the finer points of justice and social consciousness. Some heroines calling in life was nothing more or less than running fast, jumping high, and smashing things. A police captain like "Big Dick" Johnson, on the other hand, you could expect *much* better from. Would it even be difficult for him and his fellow neanderthals to get their rocks off WITHOUT being criminally corrupt sleazebags? He's the one you really need to deal with. But you have to do it as a superheroine. As Nightingale.

The shaved-headed musclehead whose lap you've been sitting in pulls you back to reality by pulling your head to the side and pressing his face up against yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and sucking noisily while unbuttoning your black security uniform shirt from the bottom up. Once the first few buttons were undone he playfully slides his fingers over your abdomen and rested one fingertip in your navel; you couldn't help but bite back a moan and the sensation and squirm in his lap, exciting him further. With his hands occupied, the skinny cop in the middle seat struck like a cobra - his fingertips slither right under the side of your panties and squeezed your bare ass-cheek. When a couple of his fingers wander right up to your anus, you clench and try to wriggle away from the impertinent digits. For her part, Jane looks like she can't help but be turned on by all the fondling foreplay she was getting; although she occasionally mumbles a slight protest, her breathing was quickening, her cheeks flushed, and the smell of her arousal was leaking into the stifling air of the police cruiser. ...though perhaps some of it was yours.

"Aww hell yeah." the cop under Jane smiled wolfishly, undoing her top part-way and sliding it down to her waist to expose her bra, which he immediately began to squeeze with both hands. "That's good, you sluts are finally realizing you need to be honest with officers of the law, heheheh."

"Yeah," Jameson growled, "what happened to all that fire you were spitting earlier, red?" he asks you. "Your nipples get harder every time I touch them. Admit it, this is what you wanted the whole time."

"S-shut up, you pig." you reply sharply. "It's... that's just my body reacting. I may not be able to help responding to how it feels but..." you are cut off by another invasive french kiss from Jameson but you pull away to continue, "...but that doesn't mean I don't still think you're all bastards. Would you really harass those innocent people at the pride event if I wasn't here?"

The ringleader glares back at you arrogantly from the front seat. "Maybe, maybe not. In fact I don't really mind the 'lipstick lesbians', you know? Kinda hot, and the 'working girls' we pick up who usually work with women generally aren't too averse to a little three-way action if it'll get them out of custody."

"Mmmm-mm." the dark-skinned cop fondling Jane says. "I don't know about y'all but I don't really care what message Captain Dick wants to send with these off-the-books Alpha Squad patrols. I'm in it for the booty."

"So you're... not worried about the fact that getting naked with a bunch of other guys isn't exactly hetero?" you ask, half sarcastically and half hopefully.

To show you what he thinks of that, Jameson slides his own hand under your bottom and you hear a *ZZZIP* as he unleashes his straining manhood. "Heheh, this bird sure likes to talk, doesn't she? I bet she never shuts up unless she's getting some dick. Is that why you keep talking shit, girly? Can't wait for me?"

Jane moans across from you. "Rikki... what do we do?" she asks plaintively, before being shut up by a couple of fingers being **** into her mouth.

"Nothing," the muscular man holding you in his grip says. "In fact... go ahead and get them ready, Ed." he says to the cop in the middle.

Before you can ask what that means you're answered by the feel of cold metal on your wrists. There's a click as an uncomfortably familiar sensation of restraint reaches you. You look down and see that the cop had leaned over to put handcuffs on your wrists - and as you follow his movements, shocked, you see him do the same to Jane.

"Diego, read 'em their rights." Holloway says with a chuckle.

"Ahem," the cop in the passenger seat says, regarding both of you with a playfully smug grin. "You are both hereby under suspicion of bitchiness and first-degree cockteasing. You have the right to get fucked, and any orgasms you have may be recorded and used against you in the court of sex."

All the while his friend is speaking, Jameson is pushing you forward and rubbing the turgid head of his flesh nightstick up and down your ass-crack. He pushes it especially hard against your asshole, nearly cramming your panties into it and making you grit your teeth.

"H-hey! Damn it, stop that!" you hiss at him. "I'm... Don't you DARE put it in my ass!" All of the cops laugh in amusement at that. "Ahhhh, she's so cute!" Jameson says, running his hand up and down your chest again. "What's wrong? You care so much about this fuckin event, I figured you were a big fan of sodomy, red." You grit your teeth at him again and grimace; Jameson continues. "Well, if you want to prove you can take care of me in better ways... why don't you start off by squeezing your thighs together around my pink pistol and grinding nice and hard?"

Genuinely motivated to convince him not to do anything to your butthole, you squeeze the mushroom head between your athletic thighs and start rocking back and forth, letting the head barely poke up between your legs and the shaft run against the front of your panties. Jameson groans his approval.

"Ah, we're finally here! The real fun can start soon." Diego says, rubbing his hands together as he parks.

Outside the cruiser is a large crowd of colorfully dressed superhero groupies, all gathered around a historic building that has been renovated into a musuem of "superhero civil rights". There is a stage and a podium erected on the front steps, and a baker's dozen of superheroes, most of whom you recognize, are up atop the stage, speaking to their adoring crowds. You see a lot of happy couples (and a few that are more than just couples) among the crowd, some of them wearing exaggerated leather fetish gear or drag, but most simply dressed normally, adorned with pride buttons and patches.

Up atop the stage at the moment is Shiela, Princess of Power, a tall blonde bombshell dressed in a scale-mail bikini. You knew there were quite a few rumors swirling around her as to the nature of her 'sword'. On a large presentation poster behind her she was pointing to a picture of a woman in a skin-tight bodysuit with two large letter 'X's over her breasts.

"...and in conclusion," Shiela says, "that is why, as heinous a villain as eX-Man has become and as strongly as we all condemn his reign of terror, that is still no excuse for mis-gendering him. Regardless of what physical form he's ended up in or the current configuration of biology, eX-Man, by his actions and the motives for his crimes, still clearly considers himself to be male and it is incumbent on the rest of us to accept that, just as it's equally important to keep in mind the preferred gender of all eX-Man's unfortunate victims!"

There is a round of raucous applause from the audience. "Thank you!" Shiela bows politely, clasping her hands over her chest. "Now, next we have a report on the leaps and bounds made in safe sex education among the Acropolis LGBT community and building bridges and finding common ground with religious organizations, with recently-accepted novice superhero Aeneas the Trojan and, of course, one of the greatest heroes and humanitarians Acropolis City is privileged to host - Whole Glory!"

You see the black-clad teleporter - with his vestments barely covering his muscular arms and washboard torso, clearly having lost none of his sex appeal despite having been with the League for over two decades - come up to the podium. Even from your vantage point in the car, you could clearly see that his left arm had been disappearing into a glowing white portal, rapidly moving back and forth - he withdrew his arm and allowed the portal to close only at the last second as he came up alongside a man wearing nothing but a plumed helmet a utility belt and an extremely tight speedo.

Just then you see a familiar face excuse herself to the fellow attendees and sidle off the stage, slowly and politely navigating the crowd in your direction. Dr. Rainbow, of course - she looks a bit nervous and flustered but is smiling and waving in your direction. How had she seen you through the tinted police cruiser windows?

You groan, and in response Officer Jameson, who has been breathing more and more heavily in response to the intercrural stimulation you're giving him, suddenly slips his hands down and wraps both his hands around your tensed-up ass cheeks, using his impressive strength to lift you up a few inches off of his lap without you needing to bend your legs at all.

It seems the cop in the middle (whose name you never caught) knows something is coming and starts to protest. "Hey, hey!" he says jealously. "I thought we were supposed to wait! Dammit, man, you better not be planning on hogging her all to yourself!"

"Sorry, but I can't wait any fuckin longer." Jameson grunts breathlessly. "She's got hands and a mouth, right? If you'd had this fine ass in your lap for half an hour you'd understand." he says, giving your buns a hard squeeze for emphasis.

"Hey, wait a minute..." you say with a gulp, sweat starting to bead on your forehead as your eyes keep darting outside the car. "I think I see someone coming this way... wait just a..." Jameson starts lowering you... and it's clear that he's carefully positioned himself. Not even bothering to undress you at all, he just leaves your skirt hiked up and pulls your white cotton panties to the side, allowing the helmet of his thick, veiny manhood to push up against the moistened lips your pussy. You gasp and shiver as his organ just barely misses going inside of you, slipping along the surface and sending a jolt of sensation through you as it presses down on your engorged clit.

"Hmmmffff! Fuck!" Jameson gasps excitedly in turn. "Damn I love a good shaved pussy! Damn that's perfect - her cuntlips are so smooth and 'innie' that it's hard to get in there. I'm up to the challenge though, I always was good at hitting the bullseye..."

"Could you just wait a damn minute you pig?" you squeeze your eyes shut and elbow him in the ribs, which doesn't even faze him. "My friend is coming this way! And... and besides that, you haven't even put a c-condom on!" You were pretty sure you were safe today but it was the principle of the thing - and you'd take any excuse you can get.

"Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of your sopping kitty squelching all over my dick, heheh, 'Officer' Drakeson." the brutish officer says unsympathetically, slapping the turgid head against your pubic mound lightly a couple of times for emphasis. "Take a lesson from your superhero friend, why don't you, and show your appreciation by giving a member of the thin blue line a ride."

You are just about to come up with some clever comeback playing off his choice of words ('Thin blue line'), but it seems your need to be clever has gotten in your way again, as you stop squirming long enough for him to aim his rod perfectly at your pink slit. Cheekily, Diego up in the front seat adjusts the rearview mirror just in time for your wide eyes to get a good look at the meaty purple helmet forcing your pink slit wide open and disappearing up inside you, followed by inch after inch of the shaft. You feel his hardness probing up inside your sex and give an unintentionally erotic yelp of surprise. Leaning over the front seat, Diego snickers and cups his hands over your still-clothed breasts, giving them a good squeeze for himself as Officer Jameson threw his head back and gave a prolonged groan of ecstasy.

"Oh yes - red here was right," he mutters, kneading your ass in his hands as he slowly lowers you further and further onto his cock, "forget about random hookers or even villain bitches - there is nothing in this WORLD better than slowly driving your pud balls-deep into a superheroine." He lifts you up again, then drops you hard on his lap, your ass cheeks slapping up against his thighs and producing an audible squishing sound. "Damn...! I don't even want to share this one. Hey, Drakeson - I'm single, y'know? You want to be my wife? I'm just about to make lieutenant, you know!"

"F-fuck... you... Stop it for a minute so you don't make my friend see this..." you pant, unable to keep lusty sighs out of your voice. "I'll get you off if you want but at least don't make me - OHSHIT!"

*Tap tap tap* Lightly and politely, Dr. Rainbow taps against the window of the police cruiser. *Tap tap tap* You wonder how clearly she can see what's going on in here. Using all of your strength, you sit down on Jameson's lap as hard as you can, taking his cock so deep in your pussy that you can feel every ridge and vein. In the rearview mirror you can see that his manhood has disappeared past your panties and pussylips, leaving only a half-inch of throbbing flesh and his red, tensed-up testes visible. Blushing, you look away from that and make eye contact with Dr. Rainbow.

Sitting as still as possible and forcing a broad, wide smile onto your face, you roll the window halfway down. If anyone is naive enough to mistake two people obviously fucking in a car as something innocent, she is. Jane, for her part, covers up her partly-naked chest, but fortunately, Halloway has lingered on foreplay longer and doesn't have his dick out yet.

"Hi! Oh, it's so wonderful to see you! I'm... a really big admirer of your work as a heroine, you know." you say, keeping up the barest pretense of protecting your secret identity and hoping that her sense of smell wasn't as good as her eyesight apparently was (hadn't she mentioned something about being able to distinguish colors more clearly than any ordinary human? Damnit, how had you forgotten that?). "Is there anything we can, hnnngh, help you with? Just some usual last-minute security detail here."