Swan of a Different Color

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Superheroine Victory encounters a feathered supervillainess!
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Chapter 1

A group of tourists stepped out of the elevator on the top floor of the Pinnacle Tower, one of Capitol City's major landmarks. Jordin Tyler followed them, trying to look inconspicuous. Her big, over-sized glasses helped in that regard, as did the prim bun in which she had pinned her chestnut brown tresses that day. Her beige challis dress had a round neckline and wide straps, showing off the silken skin around her attractive shoulders. The light fabric pulled taut across her bust and whispered like a daydream around her alluring legs, which were sheathed in silky pantyhose.

The tourists all clamored for the Observation Gallery, before moving on to the famous Skyview Restaurant and Lounge, forty-four stories above the city.

While she enjoyed the view, Jordin nervously caressed her bare wrists, where her silvery metal bracelets usually were. The Skyview being the popular attraction that it was, she shouldn't have been surprised by the security checkpoint in the ground floor lobby. The metal detector hadn't worried her as much as the ultrasonic scanner designed to detect ceramic weapons and explosives. The device itself had been built by Hasselhoff Electronics, where she worked. At close range, the oscillation could have triggered the flat trinadium power cells hidden in her bracelets, and that would mean... WHOOSH!... Jordin Tyler transforming into the superheroine Victory right there in front of everybody! Which would be kind of embarrassing, to say the least!

So to be on the safe side, she had removed her bracelets and placed them inside her briefcase, where they still were. Jordin had gotten so used to wearing them everywhere she went, that with them gone from her wrists she felt vulnerable, but if she had to be truthful, surprisingly relieved. As if not having the ability to transform, relieved the stress that she might need to...thus the young woman had yet to put them back on.

"Miss Tyler?" said a lean man in a blue pinstriped suit. Although in his 40s, he was actually about an inch shorter than Jordin, and wore coke-bottle glasses. "I'm Mr. Alan Limweener, First Bank of Capitol City."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Limweener," Jordin said cordially, shifting her briefcase as she reached to clasp his dry hand. First Bank was the largest financial institution in the city, handling the accounts of most major corporations and many government agencies. "Upgrading your security with our 655 system is the smartest move you could make. I have the specifications right here. And Mr. Ridley also asked me to show you our..."

"Yes, yes we'll get to all that," the man interrupted with an impatient glance at his wristwatch. "But thanks to your tardiness, we're running late. We'll talk over lunch."

He turned curtly and led her into the restaurant. Jordin's cheeks felt a little warm. She didn't think she was late but also wasn't about to argue with such an important client.

Suddenly the windows of the Observation Gallery shattered and a tremor shook through the floor. Tourists screamed as half a dozen men in black jump suits rappelled through the opening.

Startled by the loud noise, Jordin jumped, tripping herself up on her high heels. Fortunately the restaurant maitre'd was right there to scoop her into his arms, with one hand around her slim waist and his other hand inadvertently grabbing her peach-like ass through the thin fabric of her dress... her briefcase, forgotten by both of them, fell and skidded across the floor.

Before the outraged Jordin could form a protest, the man set her back on her feet and reluctantly removed his hand from her from her soft, round derrière.

"Sorry about that, miss," he was unable to hide his grin.

"Um... that's... all right," Jordin stammered, straightening her big rimmed glasses. Then she mentally kicked herself. If someone was attacking the building, she didn't have time to worry about a little inappropriate touching!

People began to panic as the six intruders spread out from the gallery, cutting them off from the elevators and the stairs. Jordin spotted her briefcase containing her bracelets. Raising one flawless eyebrow, she whipped off her oversized glasses with a smug little smile. Once she changed into Victory, her invincible superheroine alter ego, these thugs were in deep...

"Come ALONG, Miss Tyler!" Mr. Limweener said, grabbing Jordin's wrist just as she was about to scoop up her briefcase.

"But... but my briefcase!" Jordin squeaked, as he pulled insistently dragging her in the opposite direction. He might be an anemic little milquetoast, but he was strong enough to overpower a skinny 24-year-old girl in high heels!

"This is no time to worry about your contracts!" Mr. Limweener muttered, steering the girl around a serving cart loaded with food. "We must get to the service elev-"

"Going somewhere?" growled a deep male voice. One of the thugs in black leather was already in front of them, holding a gun on them.

A second grabbed Jordin from behind, his brawny arms easily overpowering the girl's useless struggles and pinning her arms at her sides. Jordin let out a little shriek and began thrashing in his arms. She was easily overpowered by the assailant and in her struggles only succeeded in twisting her challis dress all askew. Her struggle ended with a gasp of dismay as one hand wrapped around her soft throat, tight but not choking. His other hand wrapped tightly around her torso, trapping her arms, along with the hem of her dress. Jordin's cheeks warmed with the realization that her dress was bunched in a way that totally exposed her left hip and thigh, including the nude colored band of her panties. Also one shoulder strap had slipped loose, allowing the top of her garment to twist and pull, exposing glimpses of her pink bra and a generous amount of skin.

She sagged into his grasp flustered and embarrassed. With Jordin subdued by the hand on her throat, her attacker took the opportunity to explore briefly under her twisted skirt, feeling the gap in between her silken thighs, before moving upward along her supple curves to squeeze her right breast.

"Is this chick the one?" he sneered, roughly fondling Jordin's plump boob through the thin fabric of her dress.

Rapt by the moment's panic, any protest seemed to catch in her throat.

"No, dumbass!" said the first, keeping his pistol trained on Limweener. "Does she look like a bank president to you?"

Limweener licked his thin lips but didn't speak.

"You never know," the fondler grinned, pulling at the left strap of Jordin's dress as he leered down her breathtaking cleavage, watching her sweet bosom rise and fall with short panicky breaths. "Do you take night deposits, sweet cheeks?"

"P-please..." Jordin gasped, feeling like a helpless girl without her bracelets. The feel of the thug's hot breath on her slender neck raised goosebumps on her bare skin. All she could do right now was play along until she could think of a way out of this! "Please don't hurt me. I'll do whatever you want..."

"Shut your trap," the first thug said mildly and without rancor as he scanned the restaurant. The elevators and stairwells were secured, the tourists and staff all herded together at gunpoint. One of the men was unpacking a cylindrical object about the size of a water cooler jug. "Hey! Careful with that bomb, jerk!" the thug snapped. "You want to blow us all to kingdom come?"

The hostages, overhearing his comment, began to murmur together in fear.

Suddenly the light shining in through the shattered window was blotted out by a pair black wings. As they all watched, a beautiful woman with long, raven-black hair swooped in for a landing. Her trim, athletic body was clad in a strapless black spandex bustier that ended with a teenie-tiny miniskirt fluttering around her well-rounded hips. On her forearms were metallic gloves, but her long legs were bare except for ankle boots. Her face was half covered by a black mask, with feathered edges. As she landed, her wings folded up against her back, attached to a harness clasped tightly around her torso just underneath the swell of her relatively small but well-shaped breasts.

"The Black Swan!" Jordan whispered, recognizing the super villainess instantly.

"Is all well, Number One?" the woman asked in a musical, lilting tone. "Has everything gone according to plan?"

"Smooth as down on a goose, Swan," the man replied.

Jordin found herself resisting the urge to glare, she had to continue to appear as a weak, frightened girl...feeling her captors arms tighten reflexively around her lithe frame, Jordin realized it wasn't ONLY "appearance" at that moment.

The beautiful villainess paid Jordin no head, her hips swaying seductively as she walked past the captive girl and over to Mr. Limweener. Average height for a woman, she was maybe two inches taller than the banker. With a smile she grabbed hold of his tie and lifted his face toward hers.

"How charming to meet you, Mr. Limpweenie," she cooed. "I believe that we have something in the nature of a withdrawal to discuss."

"I don't believe that we do," the banker said coldly, his eyes flicking briefly down to her gorgeous decollatage and away.

Just then the restaurant telephone rang. "About time," the henchman called Number One muttered as he answered it. He listened to the voice on the other end.

"Capitol City Police, eh?" he said, smiling at Black Swan. "Lieutenant MacAlister? Listen up, MacAlister, this is the Greater Pangaea Liberation Front, and we have enough explosives to take out the top five floors of this building! Try anything funny, anything at all, and we light it up! Understand?" He listened for a moment. "Yeah, why don't you do that. We'll give you a list of our demands in one hour." He hung up and turned to the female villain. "They're locking down the building, Swan. Just like you planned."

Chapter 2

Black Swan smiled as she turned back to Mr. Limweener. Holding onto his tie with her left hand, she stroked his face with her right, the three delicate, razor-sharp talons extending from her glove tracing the edge of his jawline. "And now, I would like that priceless diamond necklace you received as collateral for the Vanderbilt loan... and the Enigma Box."

Jordin looked up, her curiosity piqued. Another Enigma Box?

"No!" the banker said, shaking his head. "Out of the question!"

"Oh dear me, how vexing!" Black Swan trilled thoughtfully. "Whatever can I do to change your mind?" She cocked her head at Jordin, trembling helplessly in the hands of her henchman. "Number Four, you may indulge yourself with Mr. Limpweenie's assistant? Girlfriend? Perhaps...mistress?" She cut a sly look at the banker, who maintained his composure and made no reply.

Jordin's first instinct was to inform the villainess that she was in fact none of those things, but she quickly realized it would make little difference. Her stomach gave a sickening lurch as the henchman grinned down at her. Caught without the bracelets to enabled her transformation into the superpowerful Victory, she felt helpless, close to panic. What could one skinny girl possibly do against these hardened criminals?

The thug's grip abruptly tightened on her dress and yanked, ripping the flimsy cotton bodice.

"NO!" Jordin squealed in alarm.

Limweener looked away, but the other two men stared appreciatively as Jordin's dress split down the front, now fully exposing the girl's pink demi-bra and the two firm C-cups, barely contained within.

"Stop it!" Jordin gasped. "Let go of me!"

The thug holding her prisoner pulled her arms behind her pinioning them both with one hand. His other hand reached across, cupping and squeezing her plump tits through sheer feminine garment. Jordin squirmed and struggled, the change in position allowed her skirt to fall in place around her thighs, but that offered little comfort now. She was powerless. Reaching between her breasts, the thug snapped loose the front clasp of her bra, allowing both cups to fall completely open! Her face flushed with embarrassment, as her nubile breasts bobbed in plain view, naked and exposed.

"Ohhh that's sweet ain't it?" the henchman commented, roughly rubbing his thumb against one rosy nipple.

"Nnnnnn..." Jordin groaned, shivering as an unwelcome tingles danced across her chest, causing her nipple perk up and begin to harden. "Please don't," she whimpered as her knees began to tremble.

Her hair had come loose from its bun during her struggles, letting her chestnut tresses cascade and dance around her soft shoulders as the thug spun her around and threw her face down across one of the tables. Before she could move, one big hand pressed down on her back to hold her in place. Jordin felt his other move quickly, pulling up her skirt and groping at her silken gams.

"Stop!" Jordin felt his fingers walking along her stocking-clad inner thighs. She tried to kick, but held face down with her tail in the air, it was futile. He pushed her skirt all the way up around her waist, displaying her round, peach shaped booty. "Please... nnnnnn..." she gasped, as he caressed her tight little ass, feeling for the waistband of her pantyhose. "Please let me go..."

"Not likely, babe," the thug grunted.

His hand slipped down and around, finding the soft mound of her womanhood. She squirmed as he groped between her thighs, exploring the smooth shape of her sex. He switched positions slightly, leaning his elbow against her back to keep her in place, while freeing his other hand. She could feel his fingers pressing and pulling, gathering up handfuls of her nylon hose. Once he had hold of them, he began to rip them open, pulling and tearing, fully exposing her nude collored panties underneath. He shredded the hose covering her butt and crotch, leaving the tattered remnants clinging to her long legs from about mid-thigh down.

Oh gawd this can't be happening to me, Jordin thought. She writhed and twisted, hoping to slip out from under him, but even while she struggled, the thug slipped his hand into her panties. With a chuckle at her impotent resistance, he gave a hearty yank and the flimsy nylon parted along the side seams and came free! Jordin whimpered, feeling her underside totally exposed, and a flood of humiliation momentarily cowed her. Using his feet to spread her legs apart, his fingers played with her smooth pussy lips, while the girl could only squirm, feeling the stares of the men, Mr. Limweener now included, on her shaved slit.

"She's shaves," the thug groaned lewdly, shooting his gaze at the banker. "Is that your personal request? ...or is she just a good little slut?"

"Stop this! Let me go!" Jordin pleaded before he could reply. The thug began to run a finger along her hairless slit. Jordin writhed, her stomach twisting nervously.

"A darling little thing I'm sure," the Black Swan said, crossing her arms under her bust. "I wonder, is she as tight as she looks, Number Four?"

"Heh, I'll find out," he grunted.

"Wait, no, NNNGH!" Jordin groaned as the thug pushed his thick finger into her! Her thighs shook and an unpleasant shudder ran up her spine as he pulled it out slowly.

"She's tight alright!" Number Four hooted. "But I think I can get two in..."

"What do you think, Mr. Limweener?" The Swan asked. "Can she fit 2?"

Jordin couldn't see the interaction but the banker said nothing. Then she felt fingers once again prodding at her pussy. She squirmed, feeling a pit of dread in her stomach.

"Please, don't..UGH!" the helpless girl plead and groaned as she felt the lips of her labia being spread and two impossibly thick digits were forced inside her. The feeling made her hips ache and a flood of humiliation left her emerald eyes brimming with tears. He pulled out slowly once again and this time she couldn't help but whimper as he did.

"What say to three?" the thug said, giving her a sharp slap on the ass.

The sting set a single tear streaking mascara down her cheek, and despite herself the Jordin mewled, "Please, no more..."

"All right, stop it!" the banker said suddenly. "You win! I'll open the vault for you. It's on the 40th floor... four floors down."

Jordin felt an odd mix of gratitude for his stopping her further torment...and resentment that he'd allowed it to continue so far.

"You see? Surrender doesn't hurt so much, does it?" Black Swan smirked. "You can even get used to it! Number one, you know what to do."

The villainess grabbed Mr. Limweener by the collar and dragged him to the elevator. The thugs forced the doors open, revealing an empty shaft; with the building lockdown the cars had all been sent to the ground floor. Black Swan leapt into the shaft with him, her wings unfurling as they both dropped into the darkness.

"All right then," Number One said briskly to Number Four. "Go watch the north stairwell. If I were in charge of the SWAT team, that's where I'd have posted surveillance."

"But, er..." Number Four replied, licking his lips as he patted Jordin's tasty ass. "I thought I could go ahead and..."

"You thought wrong, asswipe!" the leader snapped. "This isn't a vacation! Get moving!"

As the henchman grumpily moved off, Jordin slid off the table, clutching her torn bodice in front of her and tugging her skirt down. Number One smirked at her disheveled condition but seemed to regard her as nothing worth bothering with. He simply pointed to where one of his men was standing guard with a submachinegun, over about thirty hostages sitting on the floor. "Get moving, over with the others!"

Jordin nodded meekly, afraid that if she said anything he might change his mind about further violating her. She stood, fighting back tears, frustrated by how weak and vulnerable she was without her bracelets. She walked slowly toward the group, trying to ignore their stares as her own eyes frantically scanned the floor for any sign of her briefcase. Somehow it had ended up half hidden under the stainless steel salad bar. Feeling the stares of the guard and her fellow hostages alike on her half-naked body, she moved as close to it as she dared before she sank to her knees on the floor.

The telephone rang again. While Number One talked to the police hostage negotiator, everyone's attention was sufficiently on him to allow Jordin to slowly creep towards the salad bar and grab her briefcase. Carefully she undid the catches, breathing a heartfelt sigh of relief to see her silvery bracelets again.

"What are you doing there?" the guard barked suspiciously.

Jordin looked up, startled. "Nothing..."

"Gimme that, you stupid bitch," he ordered, angrily grabbing for the briefcase. "Got a phone or something?"

Jordin franticly shut the case, as the guard fumbled for it with his left hand. His machinegun was in his right, pointing at nothing in particular, but ready if he needed it. As the thug wrenched it out of her grasp, her torn dress fell open, treating him to enticing view of her deliciously bare breasts!

"Oops!" Jordin gasped, blushing instantly.

She also immediately realized that one hundred percent of the man's attention was now focused on her naked chest. Seizing on the distraction, the girl snatched up the briefcase and slammed it into his balls!

"SumBITCH!" the gunman hissed, as he dropped his gun and keeled over, clutching his family jewels.

The hostages were so taken by surprise, they just sat there, stunned. The other villains heard and quickly came running, but Jordin was already on her feet, skirt flying as she burst through the doors to kitchen.

"Back to your positions!" Number One shouted. "Number Two, get after her!"

Chapter 3

Jordin ran full tilt through the kitchen, knowing she wouldn't have much time. As she rounded the center island, her high heels skid awkwardly on the linoleum floor and her dress snagged on a protruding knob.