Swan of a Different Color

"Shit," she squeaked stumbling to an inglorious halt at the sound of ripping fabric. "Shitshitshit!"

The girl had to pause, suddenly realizing the futility in trying to run in high heels anyway! Quickly she kicked them off, at the same time slipping out of her dress and leaving it to hang on the knob where it caught. Now clad in nothing but her ripped pantyhose and unclasped bra, Jordin hugged her briefcase protectively to her bare bosom, indulging a moments chagrin at being mostly naked in such a public place. The sound of her pursuit coming through the kitchen doors set the girl running again.

I've got to find someplace to hide and change! She thought desperately.

Hot on her heels, the Black Swan's henchman only paused a split second when he noticed the discarded dress. He couldn't help but entertain a few lewd thoughts and he chased her into the opposite corridor. Emerging from the kitchen, he looked to the right, which dead ended into the service elevator (also sent to the basement and locked). To the left, the corridor looped back to the lobby, but before that were the restrooms. That was the only place the little twit could possibly be hiding.

"There's no place to run, babe," the thug smirked as he threw open the door to the Women's, squatting to see under the stall doors. Empty. Approaching the Men's, he put his hand on the door handle. He had a pistol at his side, but he didn't even bother to draw it. "Come out or daddy will spank-" he grinned, "Come to think of it, I'll probably spank you anyw..."

The door suddenly burst open with enough force to send him hard into the opposite wall. He shook his head in disbelief, thinking, hoping that the blow had knocked him silly and he was only imagining the sight before him!

"VICTORY?"

Standing in the Men's Room doorway was a sleek, slender young goddess with long chestnut brown hair. A purple mask encircled her startling green eyes, obscuring her face but unable to hide its beauty. Her upper body was clad in a clingy purple Lycra halter top with a proud silver "V" emblem riding high on her nubile bust. Below, her toned midsection was left bare but she wore a matching purple pair of hot pants and silver high heeled boots, which came to about mid-calf. Her wrists were adorned with silver bracelets, and a silver belt rested loosely, askew across her somewhat narrow hips.

"That's right!" Victory said, her glossed lips twisting into a smirk. "Were you saying something about a spanking, scumbag?"

The henchman scrambled to his feet, quickly drawing that pistol! Victory, now endowed with super-fast reflexes, side-stepped to the left and spun, bringing up her silken knee into the thug's stomach. His breath whooshed out of him with a groan, even as the gallant girl flipped him over her shapely hip. He landed flat on the floor, totally unconscious, his gun skittering down the hall.

"That's one down," Victory sighed, tying his wrists behind him with his own belt. "Five to go."

The spunky superlady sprinted down the corridor and through the rear entrance to the lounge area, which was empty since everyone had been herded into the restaurant. Across the lobby, two of the Swan's henchmen were on guard outside the elevator shaft and the stairwell. Victory's green eyes narrowed behind her purple mask. Taking them out would allow Lt. MacAlister and his men to enter... but a stampede of SWAT and law enforcement could put hostages in harm's way. She needed to take out their guards first to ensure their safety. Besides, Jordin thought with a self-satisfied smirk, MacAlister and the men of the CCPD resented the way she always came through whenever they blew it. And the cocky superheroine had to admit that she loved rubbing their noses in it.

Taking a deep breath, Victory slipped quickly across the lobby and into the restaurant. Two of the badguys were watching over the thirty hostages. They saw her coming at the last minute, and quickly brought their machineguns up in a position to open fire.

The gorgeous super girl was already much too close. Victory batted away one gun, ducked underneath the line of fire of the other, while her dainty fist slammed into the first man's solar plexus. Her lissome body spun smoothly into a flawless back kick that swept the other's legs out from under him. Kick, punch, spin. In seconds both men were laid out flat.

The hostages were openly gawking. "You... you're a girl!" said one of the males breathlessly, ogling Victory's scantly clad and agreeably feminine form. "How did you DO that?"

Tourists... the superheroine thought.

"With a great deal of satisfaction, actually," she smirked, haughtily raising one perfect eyebrow.

Then she spotted the bomb sitting on a table in the center of the restaurant. Victory rushed to it, bending over the table, giving it a quick inspection. Everyone fell silent. The detonator was connected, but it wasn't armed. There was no danger.

Victory breathed a sigh of relief, before noticing that all the men in the group were staring at her tight, Lycra-clad caboose.

"AHEM!" she cleared her throat. "Now, you people just stay here and don't panic. There are still three other bad guys I have to deal with."

"Three?" that same tourist echoed in disbelief. "One skinny girl in her underwear against three heavily-armed terrorists? Are you..."

"Yeah, I know," Victory cut him off, even as she was headed for doorway. "I suppose I could tie one hand behind my back or something to make it fair, but I don't have all day-AAHHHH!"

The cocky young superheroine cried in pain and surprise, as she stepped over the threshold of the door and straight into a Taser! Ten thousand volts shot through her nubile frame, jerking the young woman up onto her tiptoes. The shock sent a tingling sensation through her skin, making the little hairs all over her body stand up, and left her paralyzed, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness. Victory fell forward, limp as a ragdoll into the waiting hands of two of the Swan's henchmen.

"Jerks, are we?" said Number One, holding the Taser gun.

The thugs held her slender arms, supporting the sexy superheroine as her head lolled backwards like a puppet with its strings cut. The leader grabbed her slender throat, raising her head so that he could look into her green eyes.

"The Swan said you'd probably show up," he taunted. "And now you're ours, superbitch! One more hostage to add to our collection! How does it feel?"

"Nnnnnn," Victory moaned, trembling all over with weakness. "Y-you... c-can't..."

Number One cut her off, whipping a stinging punch across her high boned cheek. She cried out as her head snapped to the side. The thugs on either side had their arms looped around her trim, shapely waist, enjoying the feel of the helpless heroine's smooth, scantily clad body. Staring in disbelief the hostages could only watch as their arrogant rescuer, was herself taken captive.

"Not feeling so snooty now, eh?" he said, rubbing his knuckles. "Tie this bitch up!"

"Aw come on, Number One," said the thug on Victory's left, as his hand wandered downward to caress the soft, pliable mound of her breast through the all too thin Lycra of her halter top. "Can't we have a little fun with her?" He was Number Four, the same one who missed his chance with Jordin Tyler earlier, and was obviously still feeling a little randy.

"Uugh," Victory groaned, squirming weakly as she was molested. The unwanted attention causing her nipples stand erect like little bullets, visibly pressing against the tight fabric of her top.

"Hey look!" grinned Number Four. "She likes it! The little slut's all horny for it!"

His hand moved around to the front of her silver belt, fiddling with the catch. Victory couldn't help but groan in terror! If he took that off, she would be completely powerless again! To make matters worse, the two men she had knocked out earlier were coming around. She had to DO something, FAST! But what?

Chapter 4

Saved by the bell! Just then the phone rang! The thugs all froze. God bless the Capitol City Police Department, Victory thought for possibly the first time ever.

Grumbling, Number One answered it. "What is it this time, MacAlister? I told you we'd call when..." He stopped to listen. "No, we don't need paramedics. No, we don't need a satellite hookup. Food? We're in a goddamn RESTAURANT, asshole! Don't bother me again!" He slammed down the phone. "Now where were we?"

The interruption had given Victory a chance to recover her bearings somewhat, but she still felt weak as a mouse. The thugs manhandled her to one of the dining tables. Slipping hands under her creamy thighs, they lifted the lissome superheroine off the floor and perched her ass on the edge of the table. Grinning, they began tugging at her uniform, trying to get it off of her. Number Four was fumbling with the clasp of her power belt. It was either now or never.

Victory swung backwards onto her back, driving both high-heeled boots squarely into the jaw of the thug on her right. As he dropped, the desperate heroine spun the other way, wrapping her gorgeous gams around Number Four's neck and shoulders while he tried to back away. He had two precious seconds to enjoy the smooth satin of her bare thighs clasped around his face before she snatched up the flower vase from the table's centerpiece and brought it crashing down on the top of his skull. He lurched sideways.

Victory went tumbling across the floor as Number One drew his pistol and opened fire at her. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Her heightened reflexes were just quick enough to deflect the first shot and doge the next two as she desperately ducked for cover behind an overturned table. When her belt was at full power she was faster than a pistol but even then if one of those machineguns opened fire, she'd be in real trouble. BLAM! BLAM! More bullets ripped into the floor just inches away as the endangered superheroine sprinted out the door into the lobby, hoping to buy herself time until her power belt reset, restoring her super strength.

No such luck. Just as she did, there was a fluttering sound from the open elevator shaft as Black Swan returned, carrying the bewildered Mr. Limweener with one taloned hand and a black shoulder bag containing whatever loot she had "withdrawn".

Victory froze. Oh no! Not now!

"What have we here?" the beautiful villainess cooed, dropping the bag. "The invincible Victory! I have always wanted to test my matchless power against yours in a fair fight!"

Fair fight? Jordin lamented desperately. I can barely stand! But she couldn't let on that her strength was at its lowest ebb. She had no choice...

"Careful what you wish for, Turkey!" Victory bluffed, charging. "Prepare to have your wings clipped!"

Number One hung back, watching the two masked women clash, their lean, spandex-clad bodies grappling together sexily. Victory got the Swan's left arm in a half nelson, her hands squashing her adversary's lovely tits against the front of her strapless bustier. The dark-haired villainess broke free of her snug embrace and came back swinging. The stunning heroine's silver bracelets deflected her talons, but when her wing came around, slamming into Victory's chest and knocking the breath out of her, she had no defense!

The heroine gasped for air, stunned and swept toward the open elevator shaft where she blundered into Limweener. Her high heels clawed at empty air as they both fell headlong down the shaft. With a desperate lunge, Victory stretched her right arm out to grab for the cable, while her left arm caught hold of the falling banker. Then they were dangling by one hand, over a 44-story drop! Victory could feel her super strength at last returning, but her grip on Limweener's coat was not the best. He was slipping through her fingers!

"I can't hold you!" she called desperately. "Mr. Limpw- er... grab onto my waist!"

"I'm... I'm trying!" the banker bleated, scrambling for a handhold around the sexy superheroine's alluring midsection. Unfortunately her smooth feminine body offered little purchase apart from her skimpy purple uniform itself! "I can't seem to..." His fingers hooked onto her belt, which began to slip over her hips, so he quickly grabbed the waistband of her hot pants, hanging against the backs of her legs with his face between her thighs just under the swell of her pert round derriere!

"Hang on tight! " Victory panted, now free to grab the cable with both hands. "I'll get us out of this-" RRRRIP!

It was a delicate, silken sound, but it sent an icy shiver through the superheroine's spine and made her beautiful green eyes grow wide! Her hot pants were beginning to rip! Limweener's weight was too much for the seams! The beautiful heroine felt her high-boned cheeks blushing as the garment slid further and further over her narrow hips, letting the top of her plain white thong come into view. She opened her mouth to say something, but what could she say?

Abruptly Victory's hot pants passed the point of no return, splitting down the side and slidding down her long legs. She felt the banker's weight shift awkwardly as he clutched at her knees. Terrified of falling, he scrambled desperately for something else to hold on to. For a split-second, the superheroine felt his fingers grab the narrow elastic waistband of her flimsy thong, and then, before she could say a word, in one smooth movement his weight PEELED her skimpy panties all the way down her exquisitely statuesque legs!

"My ankles!" Victory shouted, her pulse pounding in her ears as she felt open air playing around her exposed womanhood. "Grab my ankles!"

Thankfully he did! The superheroine felt his hands slide along her boots and catch hold of her feet. Her hot pants tore free and kept on falling, down into the darkness of the elevator shaft, forty-four stories! But somehow thankfully her panties were hooked on the toes of her boots, if hanging precariously. Oh please, please don't let them slip! she prayed.

Up on the restaurant level, Black Swan and Number One gazed down the elevator shaft at the unfortunate pair. With a chuckle, the henchman brought up his pistol and took aim at Victory, totally unable to defend herself in her position.

"Don't you dare!" the beautiful villainess snapped, slamming him away with her wing. "Have you no sense of rightness, you Phillistine? Taking advantage of her helplessness to just pick her off like a fish in a barrel?"

"What? But," he sulked, rubbing his shoulder where she had hit him. "I thought..."

"You don't think!" she scowled. "Let me handle that, leave her to squirm for a bit first. Get the loot. Gather the men and get back up to the Aerie."

"What about the bomb?"

Black Swan smiled. "It has served its purpose. But there is no sense in wasting it, is there? Set it for... oh let me think... five minutes? That should be plenty of time."

Chapter 5

Victory took a deep breath. Okay, let's deal with this one step at a time! She didn't need to look down to know that Limweener was hanging onto her ankles like a bulldog, his head in between her legs, probably staring straight UP at her exposed body and enjoying the view! Okay then. She was literally in no position to do anything about that...

Hand over hand, the dauntless heroine climbed the elevator cable, feeling the banker's dead weight every inch, all the time praying that her panties kept their tenuous place on her toes! Arriving at the top, an agile twist swung him out onto the floor. Victory nimbly followed, rolling gracefully into a crouching position. There was no sign of Black Swan or her henchmen anywhere, fortunately. She pulled her panties up quickly, frustratingly aware of how little coverage the plain white thong offered.

"Are you all right, sir?" she asked Mr. Limweener. Her face was beet red, her bust rising and falling from both the exertion and embarrassment.

"I... I think so," the banker said, sweating, still staring distractedly at the thin white triangle of nylon between her thighs. "What a beau—er, interesting... experience that was!"

The superheroine couldn't suppress a sigh as she rose to full height, giving her skimpy panties a self-conscious tug. She didn't relish the idea of going back into the restaurant where all those people could gawk at her state of undress, but she didn't have much choice. Steeling herself for the ordeal, she turned...

...And ran straight into the arms of a man in a police SWAT uniform! "I'm sorry, ma'am," he said as they both stumbled over each other. His hands slipped around her lissome waist, as if fumbling to catch her, but they clenched a littler too eagerly onto her temptingly bare butt cheeks. "I'm Lt. MacAlister. You're Victory, aren't you?"

"EXCUSE ME!" The superheroine felt her cheeks (both sets) flush hot. "If you'd like to keep those hands, lieutenant," she said dangerously, "I suggest you REMOVE them right now!"

"Right!" MacAlister said, quickly letting her go as the rest of the SWAT team circled them, staring at Victory's peach-like ass. "Ah... Someone called down a couple of minutes ago and said the villains were gone. Can you tell me what's going on?"

One of the female hostages, a waitress, suddenly appeared in the doorway. She froze in surprise when she saw all the policemen. "Um... this thing is still ticking..."

Victory brushed past MacAlister and darted into the room, trying to ignore the looks from the men checking out her scantly covered booty. Sure enough, the big red LED display on the detonator was counting down fast - 0:19, 0:18, 0:17...!

"How fast can the bomb squad get here?" Victory asked, her mouth going dry.

"Er... wh-what?" MacAlister stammered, wide-eyed with fear as he stared at the bomb.

"Never mind, I'll do it myself," the young heroine snapped, rolling her eyes. "If you men can stop drooling over me for a few seconds!"

"Evacuate the building!" MacAlister shouted regaining his composure. "GET THESE PEOPLE OUT OF HERE NOW!"

Blocking out the sounds of panic around her Victory bent over the bomb. Delicately chewing her bottom lip, she carefully studied the wiring with her nimble fingers. The clock continued counting... 0:09, 0:08, 0:07, 0:06... Fortunately it was not a complex system and one simple adjustment (simple for an electronics engineer like Jordin Tyler, that is) disconnected the detonator and the countdown went dead. She straightened, relieved that this nightmare was at last over...

"The captain would probably fire me if he heard me say this but," MacAlister put a hand on her shoulder. "Thank goodness you were here, Victory. Well done!"

The young woman found the praise surprisingly pleasant, and she turned to the Lt. with a soft shy smile. They were the only ones left, save for Mr. Limweener who no doubt had been too frightened even to run. Victory was surprised to notice how handsome MacAlister was, certainly more man than the anemic banker...

"The Enigma Box!" Limweener cried suddenly. "She got away with it! This is a disaster!"

The superheroine's soft shoulders slumped. A woman's work was never done.

"Where did Black Swan and her men go?" Victory asked urgently.

MacAlister turned away, already radioing to his men, and the banker pointed at the shattered Observation Gallery windows. One of the black nylon ropes was still hanging there. The superheroine immediately remembered the henchman she had tied up; he must have been left behind! But as she watched, the rope began to rise, as if something were reeling it in.

"What's tha-?" MacAlister began to ask.

"Excuse me, boys," Victory interrupted, leaving them gawking at her beautiful booty as she ran for the rope. "I've got a supervillain to catch!"

"Victory wait...blast it," MacAlister stammered, pressing his tactical radio headset. "Sierra-5 to Control! Get some choppers in the air! They're getting away!"