Valiant Valkyrie vs the Boarman 02

"Yes I understand them," she said, hands on her hips. "Now that one about the lawyer? Yeah. How about that?"

"Wait, wait, hold it," Zippuli said, waving a finger - having just re-entered with a big cup of coffee in his hand. "You have that right," he admitted. "But it would cost us a lot of time, waiting for her to get here. You know what we could do with that time? Why, we could take those gloves off and start printing you... and then, if she's still not here, maybe that mask too." He grinned. "How are we feeling about our rights right now, Miss Valkyrie?"

Standing with one long leg extended, hands upon her panty-clad hips, Valiant Valkyrie glared at him. She tossed her head, her long blonde hair flowing around her masked face. He had her dead to rights. But, as much to preserve her pride as anything, the mighty heroine decided rather than straight backing down to demand a quid pro quo instead.

"Alright," she said. Lifting her arms up, she folded them over her bare breasts. "I'll waive my right. On one condition."

Zippuli's momentarily bright expression darkened. "What?" he asked.

"Who are the Dark Prizm?" she asked. "Where did they come from?"

He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. "Don't you already know?" he asked. He smirked. "You want me to read the wikipedia entries on Lord Vile and The Rake for you, too, while I'm at it?"

"Just humor me," Valkyrie growled, her scantily-clad hips whipping back and forth.

He gave her a look - then, shrugging, he played along. "I don't know that much that ain't public knowledge," he admitted. "The Dark Prizm was originally a bunch of hippie-dippie feminist college student types, what got it into their demented snowflake heads that if they became superheroines they could remake the world like their professors told them it should be. So they snuck into a lab in their university what had a DoD contract, and stole a top-secret formula. Only problem was, since they all majored in, like, intersectional basketweaving or whatever, when they took the formula they got the proportions all wrong."

He stopped, and smirked.

"Basically, they way overdosed on 'bitch'" he said, and sneered. "And the rest, as the man says, is history."

She gave him a dour look.

He chortled, then shrugged. "To be hundred percent fair it wasn't all their fault. Since they were, y'know, stealing, naturally enough the Boarman burst in and fucked it all up for em'. But since he had just gotten done 'dealing with' High Heel and Silver Star that same day, he must have been off his game - they got away. But ever since that day, their drug-addled brains have had one very clear fixation as to the source of the world's problems: men, in general, o'course, but superheroes to be specific - and the Boarman in particular." He shrugged, and grinned. "So, y'know, pretty much the usual for the sort of super-evil ladies what we get in these parts."

"Hmmm," Valiant Valkyrie said. Hands folded under her enormous jiggling breasts, her eyes narrowed and she smiled thinly, as she realized she had caught him out. "The Boarman did that, you say?" she cooed softly.

"Ah!" Zippuli said, catching himself. He squirmed his big piggy body, but then shrugged. "I mean, one of the seemingly endless series of copycats and such-forth what claim to be the so-called Boarman," he clarified, sheepishly. "I wasn't there, you see, was just relaying - and as you saw, even a bunch of our junior officers and such still routinely fall for the myth what says he really does exist."

"I see," Valiant Valkyrie said. Putting her hands down on her buxom hips she smiled, smugly, at his visible discomfort at being tripped up. But, at the end of the day, while it was gratifying catching him in the lie, it didn't help her much. Even if she could prove a singular Boarman existed - no small task, given how invested every aspect of the city's power structure was in pretending otherwise - it wouldn't do anything to invalidate the charges they had against herself. Plus the Boarman was hardly the only hero who resorted to such convenient cover stories, so going after him in that way would probably just make her a lot of unnecessary enemies as well. Frowning, she pushed the Boarman back out of her head, where he belonged. She instead went back and mulled over what Zippuli had told her about the Dark Prizm, and then looked back up.

"So... that's it?" she asked, raising up a sharp eyebrow. "That's all you know about one of the most lethal and notorious criminal gangs at-large in your own god-damned city?"

Zippuli frowned. "I mean, I could give you the list of all the BPD officers they've killed - or maimed - or castrated," he said. Behind him, a couple of his men squirmed, as if remembering some particularly uncomfortable little-officer-down reports over their radios. "I could tell you about the time they put chemicals in a college football team's jockstraps that left them all permanently singing soprano - just because their quarterback made some off-color comments about his cheerleaders. We could talk about them Vox News anchors, what where they made the hot blonde nail the shouty guy with a strap-on on live television, to 'change the discourse'. But we're here to talk current events babe, not ancient history. 'Specially since we still haven't worked out whether you're working with them or not."

Valkyrie gasped. One hand clutching over her heart, she raised the other to her cheek in shock. "Me?!" she gasped. "Working with the Dark Prizm? How could you even think that?!" She stomped her foot - which had the nice side effect of making her immense bare breasts slosh and jiggle violently before the awed officers, and their merciless cameras.

Zippuli grinned, enjoying a front-row seat to the aforementioned effect, then leered up at her. "Well they did leave you alive, which ain't their normal MO," he pointed out. "But we're getting ahead of ourselves." Sitting forward, he slid her incomplete booking form to one side, and took out a fresh piece of paper. "Why don't you just give us your version of the story, Princess?" he asked.

Hands dropping to perch archly on her buxom hips, Valiant Valkyrie glared - but then slowly nodded. "Okay," she said. She shifted her curvy body back and forth - and smiled slightly, despite herself. "It's good to see you're actually starting to take me seriously," she said.

"Just get on with it," he said. Holding the blank paper in front of him, he reached up to his pocket and drew out the pen she had used with her mouth.

For the next few minutes Valiant Valkyrie recited the events leading up to her capture - her hot pursuit of Rude Ruby, her ambush by the rest of the Dark Prizm, and how they had forced information out of her using her sidekick. Zippuli seemed to be taking copious notes, which gratified her. Meanwhile two cops with high-end still cameras fitted with enormous lenses roved about, taking numerous pictures of her from every angle.

"Hmmm," Zippuli said, studying his paper and rubbing his lips. "And what was in this case?"

Valiant Valkyrie stiffened. Remembering that she had pointedly refused to answer when the Boarman had asked her the same question - and knowing that there was probably nothing happening to her now he would not swiftly become aware of one way or another - she made a snap decision.

"How would I know?" she said. "I just know it was stolen from a bio-lab, and probably dangerous."

"Sure, sure," he said, sighing, making another stroke with his pen. "So... how did you end up chained up again?"

She launched into a detailed explanation of her stances and tactics, but after thirty seconds or so Zippuli shook his head in frustration. "No, no," he said. "I just can't follow this, it's a mess. Look - act it out for us."

"What?"

"Don't tell us, that will take all night," he said. "Show us."

Valkyrie considered, then nodded. "Okay," she said.

In short order, they had directed Valiant Valkyrie to certain portions of her fight, and had her adopt the stances to show them what happened.

"So then you landed on your belly, and had to look up at your opponent," Zippuli said. "Can you show us what that looked like?"

"Sure," Valiant Valkyrie said.

Going down onto the interrogation room floor, she crouched down on all fours - her ass lifted up high behind her atop her spread thighs and her hands pressed to the floor to either side, and then looked up.

"Interesting," Zippuli said. The men with the big digital cameras went around, in front and behind her, and snapped a bunch of pictures. "Can you show us your expression?"

"Sure," Valiant Valkyrie said. Turning her head up, she gaped upwards as if in awe - while her buxom hips, clad only in her skimpy panties, squirmed back and forth as she remembered what had happened. The high-end cameras zoomed in, the men holding them crouching down around her to get better angles, and snapped picture after picture.

"Alright, got it," Zippuli said. He studied his paper. "Now, let's go forward a few seconds. You got kicked in the cunt and ended up flat on your back. Can you show us that?"

"Of course," Valkyrie said.

Flipping around, she laid herself out flat on her back, and then spread her mighty legs wide, her booted feet quivering upon the floor. Then she arched her back, reached down, and grabbed her panty-clad crotch, as if clutching it in pain. The cameras orbited around her, going up and down, snapping more pictures.

"You had also just gotten your bell rung by an uppercut," Zippuli observed. "Can you show us what effect that had?"

"Sure," Valkyrie said. Keeping one hand squeezed to her mound, she lifted the other up to her head. Still lying flat with her legs spread wide, she clutched her other hand to her hair and thrashed her masked head back and forth, as she imitated moaning in pain.

"Perfect," Zippuli said. "Now, when they propped you up on that console and then kicked you in the ass. Can you assume the position for that?"

"Certainly," Valiant Valkyrie said.

Standing up, she bent over the edge of the table, her hands propped up on it. Her blonde hair spilled around her, while her huge breasts hung down beneath her, jiggling just over the top of the table. The cameras went too and fro, taking plenty more pictures.

"When you got kicked, were your legs like that?" Zippuli asked, pointing.

"No... they were wider," she said.

"Show us," he said.

"Okay," she replied. Slowly, with some difficulty she spread her legs wider, until they were spread out at nearly a forty-five-degree angle to either side. Her voluptuous ass, clad in her little panties, was lifted high and presented itself, particularly her mound.

"So then your opponent kicked you in the ass. Jenkins - could you show us a kicking pose?"

"Sure," one of the cops said. Lining up behind Valiant Valkyrie's uplifted and perfectly-presented, curvaceous bottom, he formed a kicking pose, with his boot poised right behind her sculpted buns - as if he himself were in the process of kicking Valiant Valkyrie in the ass.

"Is that the right posture?" he asked.

Looking back over her shoulder, Valiant Valkyrie shook her head. "No - it was more of a drop kick."

"I see. I don't think Jenkins is good at drop kicks. Peters - you want to give this a try?"

"Sure thing, boss," another cop said, grinning. One by one, policemen came forward and mimed themselves delivering a mighty kick into Valiant Valkyrie's uplifted backside. Each time, Zippuli reminded Valkyrie to once more turn her face forward and mimic her moaning expression from the moment she had been struck - and the cameras snapped again and again. More officers were called in, but still couldn't get it right.

At last, Valiant Valkyrie had had enough. "Look, enough of this!" she hissed, after a dozen officers had all taken their turns pretending to slam their boot up between her spread legs, without anyone getting close to how Rude Ruby had done it. "This is pointless. We're getting nowhere."

"Okay, okay," Zippuli said. "So what about this time that Savage Sapphire stuck her hand between your legs and started to..."

"No!" Valiant Valkyrie said. Then she looked down, and saw his paper. She gasped in shock - to see that it didn't have a single word written on it. Instead, the paper was covered in cartoons of buxom half-stripped female bodies, mostly lacking heads or feet, being menaced by a variety of enormous dripping cocks. Surging to her feet, Valiant Valkyrie stabbed a finger down into his paper.

"You're not even taking notes!" she hissed. Putting her hands on her hips, she glared down at him in fury. "You're not taking this seriously!" she complained.

"On the contrary," he said, "I am taking you exactly as seriously as you deserve..."

"Well, I'm not answering any more questions, until you start showing the proper respect!" she said.

"Very well," he said. He shuffled the doodle-covered paper back out of sight, and brought her booking form back up. "Then it's high time we got this done."

"What more could you possibly need?" she snapped.

"Address?" he asked. He looked up at her, expectantly.

Valiant Valkyrie squirmed, and swallowed. "Pass?" she asked.

He looked down, then looked back up, and smiled.. "Height and weight?"

Valiant Valkyrie squirmed. "Can we... can we just skip those?" she said. The first was not much of a problem, but like many women she had a deep aversion to letting anyone get exact numbers on the latter.

He looked down, smirked, and then looked back up. "Measurements?" he cooed.

Her jaw dropped open, in disbelief. "That can't be on there," she said. She held out her hand. "Show me where it has those!"

He flipped the form over, face down on the table. "Mask?" he cooed, smiling at her. "Fingerprints?"

Valiant Valkyrie took a deep breath, and then glared. "V-very well," she hissed. "Measurements it is."

He smirked, and pointed towards an open section of the room. "Assume the position," he said. Shivering, Valiant Valkyrie obediently walked over and stood at attention, as if she was a posed mannequin. At his direction she lifted up her arms and put her hands on her head and then kept them there. "We're gonna need some tape measures," Zippuli said.

"Once again," an officer cooed, reaching into his pocket, "way ahead of you lieutenant."

Grinning, Zippuli took the cloth tape - and then came forward to do the deed himself. Valkyrie gasped softly - but continued to stand at attention as he came around to stand behind her. She watched, lips quivering in horror, as he looped the tape up and brought it into position on her breasts. It ended up tucked up just underneath her huge bare nipples. Behind her, Zippuli whistled.

"God DAMN!" he said, as he looked at the number.

Turning her head, her cheeks pink under her mask, Valkyrie glared back at him over her shoulder. "Just... just get on with it!" she said.

Grinning, Zippuli crouched down and slid the tape down to her narrow waist. Valiant Valkyrie's flesh prickled, and she squirmed involuntarily, as it caressed down across her - and then gradually pulled tight around her abdomen, running just over her belly button. Once again, behind her, Zippuli whistled. "Sweet Jesus," he said.

"H-hurry up!" she snapped.

Next was the worst part. He pulled it down onto her hips, and wrapped it around. He kept slipping, and 'having to' slide his hand around and nudge the tape back into proper position, across the swooping front of her panties. Valiant Valkyrie repeatedly gasped, her lips quivering, as she felt his fingers poking and prodding at her gigantic ass - as they did their best to keep the tape flat and level as it arced across her juttingly rounded buns. At last, pulling it taut - so that it indented slightly into the curvature of both of her giant toned buttocks - Zippuli got his final number. He yelped in awe.

"Great galloping big-tittied ghosts!" he said, as he mentally calculated Valiant Valkyrie's hip and breast ratios, and got a dizzying pair of figures.

"S-satisfied?" Valiant Valkyrie hissed, as he finally stood back up from behind her.

Looking at his paper, Zippuli shook his head. "No," he said. "These are insane. They can't be right." Then he looked up, at the row of cops standing in front of him - and grinned. "Anyone else want to try?" he asked.

Beside him, standing and shivering in her panties, Valiant Valkyrie's jaw dropped - and she let out a little tiny tormented moan of horror as she realized what was about to happen.

It was worse even than she first imagined. One by one, the cops came forward. Crouching down, cackling and grinning, they pulled the tape taut first at her breasts, then her waist, then her hips. Each one seemed to struggle more - to take even more time, to 'have to' reach out and adjust them in more places, before he finally got his numbers. And under the inspection of each one Valiant Valkyrie found she could hold even less still - had to squirm and shiver even more beneath their roving insolent touch - as she was measured and felt up again, and again, and again.

And every one, every last one, when they stood up, took one look at their numbers, shook their heads in disbelief - and announced - standing right beside the gasping and jiggling half-stripped superheroine - that some-one else would have to give it a try.

Zippuli started up a white board, with a name and three numbers going down it - soon in several sections moving down the board as more names got filled in. More cops were called in, and then still more - until it seemed quite likely that every single officer in the entire city would have his turn. And through it all the cameras filmed and flashed, eagerly - capturing everything for all time.

"This... this is ridiculous!" Valiant Valkyrie finally hissed, after what seemed like the hundredth cop had taken his fumbling turn - and withdrew, a gigantic smile on his lips, out from behind the body he had just spent the last several minutes clumsily pawing over.

"I agree - we're going nowhere," Zippuli said, looking up from his chair over the wall of numbers behind her. Turning, he looked at her, and grinned. "If we're ever going to get an accurate number," he said, motioning toward her midsection with his pen, "those panties are going to have to come off."

Looking down, Valkyrie gasped in horror. All around her, a throng of watching cops leered and chortled.

"My... my panties?!" she gasped - her buxom hips wiggling back and forth, clad in said bold blue-and-gold-colored, defiantly-skimpy garment - and nothing else.

"Yeah," Zippuli said. Leaning forward and reaching out his hand, he traced their intended path from her sleek crotch all the way down her legs for her, with the pen that still bore her lip marks upon it. "Hurry up. Get those panties on the flo-"

Suddenly a great commotion started outside. Looking up, Valiant Valkyrie squirmed back and forth - and gasped with relief, not sure how she would have dealt with the policeman's command.

"Out of my way!" a brash female voice said, from just outside the door. There came a deep yelp, as of a very beefy cop being shoved aside with uncharacteristic ease.

"What the?" Lt. Zappuli growled, spinning around in his chair.

Moments later the door flew open - and a giant pair of tits surged through. These proved to be the leading element of the imposingly buxom form of the Sun Idol, which followed them into the interrogation room a moment later - her gorgeous Japanese face burning with fury beneath her long dark hair, and her staggeringly curvy and invincible body jiggling imposingly in its straining Rising Sun bikini.

Moments later, in Sun Idol's pneumatic wake, a second heroine strode through: the tall ebony-skinned form of Daring Diva, her gorgeous face lifted high. Her own spectacular body strained at the confines of her own trademark costume, which consisted principally of a purple thong and bustier, with her interlocking-Ds logo emblazoned proudly upon each cup and upon the center of her panty; and with her matching utility belt cinched tight around her muscular waist.