Victory Is Mine

And then he turned to face her. That clean-shaven chin, that short brown hair, and especially those hazel eyes were all familiar to her! It was the Centurion!

He recognized her too, of course. The supervillain had seen Victory unmasked the first time they had battled. Jordin instinctively reached for the bracelets which transformed her into superpowerful champion of justice, but her wrists were bare. She had left them in her locker!

"Er... hhow dddo you do..." Jordin managed to stammer. She heard Kayley giggle like a schoolgirl, completely misinterpreting the reason for her befuddlement. It was a superheroine's worst nightmare -- caught without her powers by her archenemy!

Jordin was frozen in near panic. What was she going to DO? She could tell that the Centurion he was enjoying her distress. She couldn't denounce him without revealing her own secret identity. Meanwhile his eyes were admiring the swell of her breasts and the slim curves of her bare midriff, her skin still moist and slightly flushed from her exercise, then roaming down her elegant legs clad in her spandex tights.

"Splendid!" said Mr. Ridley, inadvertently breaking the spell. "I'd better get cracking or my daughter will kill me." As he quickly strode off in his formal suit, Jordin suddenly realized what she could do.

"Kayley," she gushed, "would you keep Mr. Gordon entertained while I put on something more appropriate?" And without a pause, she made a break for the women's locker room.

Twenty seconds later Jordin was standing beside her open locker, whisking off her glasses and shaking her hair out of its ponytail. She quickly reached behind her to undo her sport bra. At that point she heard a husky male voice say, "Here, let me help you with that."

Jordin spun around in surprise just as the bra clasp came undone! The Centurion had followed her! Gasping aloud with the outrage of a man catching her changing, she could only clutch the little spandex garment in front of her firm C-cups as she backed away. "What are you doing in here? This is a women's--" She broke off, darting a terrified glance into her open locker where her bracelets were sitting on the shelf in plain sight, but out of reach! He couldn't have caught her more vulnerable if he had planned it!

The Centurion had seen them too. "What a pleasant surprise, Victory," he said, as a grin came over his face. "And I seem to have caught you without those annoying superpowers!" Slamming the locker door shut before she could do anything, he advanced upon her. "Why couldn't you have gone home at five o'clock like you were supposed to? I would have been free to recon the place without interference. Why do you think I avoided you all day?"

He reached out to grab her. Jordin had to do something! Desperately she brought up her knee into his groin, striking him right on target. As he let out a gasp of agony, she dropped downward out of his clutches, leaving her bra behind in his hands as she slipped past him and wrenched open the locker door. Scooping up her bracelets, she darted down the aisle between the lockers, frantically putting them on and hoping she had time.

She reached the shower room, which was thankfully empty. Clashing her bracelets together, Jordin triggered the energy burst which changed her. A second later, she was VICTORY, the city's most powerful superheroine! Now clad in a clingy purple halter top, hot pants and mask, silver boots, and her silver power belt, she turned to face the oncoming villain. "OK Centurion!" she said smugly, "it's just you and me! I'm going to trounce you so badly, you'll be speaking pig Latin."

He had also taken the opportunity to change into his costume -- leather boots, a short white tunic in the style of a Roman officer, a bronze helmet with a red plume, and a weapons belt. The only thing missing was his armored breastplate. "Brave words, enchantress," he said, drawing his short sword and igniting the energy sheath like St. Elmo's fire around its blade. "Do you have the power to back them up?"

He lunged. Victory brought up her wrists and deflected his sword with her invincible protective bracelets, but even then she felt a tingle of electric current ripple down her arm! It wasn't much, but enough to tell her that she did NOT want that thing to hit her unprotected body!

The Centurion swept towards her again. Victory parried, tried to follow through with a punch of her own, but the villain kept her on the defensive. He stayed out of reach even as his sword swished past her again, too close for comfort. Jordin was glad for the workout she had just had. Her legs and ass felt tight and buff. All she could do was wait for the chance to use her kickboxing skills.

At last she saw an opening. He had reached just a little too far, enabling the heroine to swing her left arm over and bring her bracelet down on his sword. As it clattered to the tile floor of the shower room, her shapely silken leg came up and caught him with a kick that knocked his helmet off! The Centurion wasn't stunned, but he was sent to his knees.

"Well, well, looks like it's over," Victory smirked, planting her trim young body. "We both know you're no match for me without this little toy." The sword's energy sheath had gone out. Smugly she reached down and picked it up by its hilt.

The sword, not recognizing the biometric signature of its master, flared again, sending ten thousand volts through the cocky superheroine's lissome frame. Victory cried out as every muscle in her nubile body twitched and spasmed from the current, rising her up on her tip-toes. Then she went limp as a ragdoll, dropping the sword and pitching forward.

The Centurion was there to catch her. She felt the overpowering strength of his hands enfolding her slender waist as she fell helplessly into his waiting arms. Her nubile body was paralyzed, trembling with weakness as she lolled against his magnificent male frame. "Ah, sweet enchantress," he said complacently, "you didn't suspect my weapons would have safe-guards? Once again I have you exactly where I want you."

Jordin couldn't mistake the sensual feel of his touch, the rigid organic bump between his legs pressed against her. "Centurion, no!" she protested weakly, as goosebumps sprang up on her skin. "You'd better not be thinking-- mmmmm!" She got no further because his mouth was over hers, his tongue invading her lips and playing sweet havoc with her senses.

She felt his hands removing her power belt and bracelets. This couldn't be happening! As her weapons were taken away from her, the stunning superheroine felt her powers desert her. Without them, she was just a girl, defenseless and totally at his mercy! The Centurion finished the kiss and licked his lips. "Mmmm, you're so delicious!" he said. "I'm going to have to taste the rest of you!"

"Don't!" Victory whimpered, struggling to make her body obey her. "Please don't!" Without another word, the villain threw her helpless body over his shoulder and carried her back to the locker room. Easing her down on one of the benches, he started undressing her. First her silver boots. Next her purple halter top, letting her supple melons jiggle free and unprotected as he threw it aside. Jordin tried to resist, but her arms were as weak as a child's. "Stop it, please stop it," she begged as he bent forward, kissing her nipples while his hands moved further down, tracing the curve of her torso. Her skin was slippery, salty with her perspiration.

"Ohhh you green-eyed little minx," the Centurion panted, as he pulled down her hot pants and her thong together and spread her legs so that he could gaze at her pink, shaven pussy. Victory could feel the paralysis starting to wear off, but it was too late. He was sliding her panties over her ankles and tossing them away. Then his hands followed the silky smoothness of her legs back upwards, his fingers sliding in between her thighs to caress her soft pubic mound.

A delicious tingle of outright fear shivered Victory's spine when she remembered that they were in a public place! Anyone could walk in at any time and CATCH them like this! "Please don't," she whispered. "Someone might..." And then he was on top of her again. Somehow he had taken off his tunic and shorts, and she forgot everything but the electrifying thrill of his hands on her tender flesh, his lips sucking on her nipples.

Now that she was able to move again, her own hands couldn't resist touching him, splaying over his bare chest, massaging his sweating muscles. They seemed to have a mind of their own as they glided over the bumps of his killer abs, reaching between his legs until they found his hot, rigid manhood. Without thinking, she wrapped one hand around his yankee doodle and gave him one long stroke...

"Great Jupiter, Jordin!" he groaned. "Don't do that! I can't concentrate..." He disengaged himself, sliding down in between her creamy thighs as he dove face-first into her moist, juicy snatch.

"Yes! OhGodyesss," Victory moaned. His hands held her legs apart as she felt his mouth eating her muff, his tongue sliding into her succulent slit, teasing, torturing her. Fireworks went off in her head, her loins quivering as her vagina gave an exquisite spasm of ecstasy.

But he wasn't finished. The bench was too narrow for a standard missionary position, so he spun her body around and sat with his back braced against the wall. Then, with his feet planted on the floor for leverage, he pulled her into his lap astraddle his cock, one long leg hooked over his shoulder to give him deeper penetration. His thighs flexed, his hands on her breasts while he sheathed his shaft smoothly into her pussy.

"Ohhhyes!" Victory cried as his HARD nine-inch tool plowed through the soft folds of her labia! "Ohplease! Please!" Their bodies meshed together, both lubricated and slick with the juices of their lust. Jordin wrapped her hands around his neck to steady her as she rode his wonderful pole, in and out, in and out. thrusting, boning, rubbing her g-spot with every pass! "Harder!" she moaned, "please, please harder! HARDER!!"

After what seemed like an eternity, she felt rather than heard him give a deep hiss of satisfaction as he climaxed, spewing what felt like a PINT of thick, hot semen into her, at the same time fireworks exploded inside her. He pulled out, letting the sticky stream shoot onto her belly, pumping more and more as if he were never going to stop!

Jordin collapsed onto the bench, feeling as weak as a kitten. She wanted to just lie here and catch her breath, but a sharp rap-rap signalled the opening of the locker room door. At the same time someone's cell phone rang. "Yeah?" they heard Kayley's voice say from around the blind corner of the entrance. "Hey, Todd! Just on my way now! Yeah, I'm looking forward to it..."

The Centurion had already gathered up his clothes. "Saved by the bell, sweet enchantress," he whispered. "I don't suppose I'll be able to complete my reconnaissance tonight! Until next time, then." And he was gone through the service exit.

Jordin barely had time to frantically stash her Victory uniform inside her locker (remembering just in the nick of time that she still had her mask on!) and grab a towel before Kayley came breezing in. "Sorry to burst in on you," the blonde said, opening up her own locker. "Is your stud gone already?"

Jordin felt her cheeks flushing bright red as she thought how dangerously close she had come to being caught in the act! "I... I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't try to kid ME," Kayley laughed, wriggling out of her exercise clothes. "I showed him the stair-stepper and tried to get him interested in my tight little buns, but it was obvious he only had eyes for you. He made some lame excuse, but the last I saw he was heading this way. Did you two have fun?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," Jordin said haughtily, wrapping her towel around her as she made for the showers. She could still feel the Centurion's sticky cum all over her body.

>>>THE END

Sweet Dreams, or... Victory Gets Chloro'd!

***

It was a Thursday night, and Jordin Tyler was at the mall shopping for a wedding present for a college friend. She was wearing a white cotton blouse (comfortably taut across the bosom) and a pleated red and black woolen miniskirt. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone, with a necktie loosely knotted around the collar. Kayley, her co-worker, had half-jokingly remarked that all she needed was the blazer and pigtails to complete the Catholic schoolgirl look! That insinuation had made Jordin blush, she hadn't even considered such a thing...Pausing to consider her reflection in the display case at the Buckle, she could totally see it now. Running one hand through her luxurious chestnut tresses, letting them cascade over her shoulders, the girl sighed...really though was that a bad thing?

Don't guys...Ok, ok focus girl, Jordin told herself silently. What am I going to get Kristen?

Kristen was an old college friend, she was getting married this autumn but had invited Jordin to an engagement party...why she wasn't sure, they weren't even that close really. More like old college acquaintances. Do you even get people a gift for engagement parties? Well she sure wasn't going to show up without a gift... and alone... She let that thought hang in her mind, not wanting to admit that the real reason for her resentment was the idea of an old friend getting married and in Capitol City...because it sure seemed, at least in the parts of Capitol City Jordin frequented, good men were awfully thin on the ground.

Maybe something from Victoria's Secret? she thought, not wanting to be that kind of girl.

Jordin paused by the window to look at the female mannequins dressed in skimpy lingerie. Her eye was drawn to a larger than life poster of Brazilian supermodel Alessandra Ambrosio looking incrrrredibly sexy in a sequined purple bra and cheekster panties set that reminded her an awful lot of her own Victory costume! That was part of the problem. In her off hours, Jordin was secretly the city's premiere superheroine! How could she settle for an ordinary man when she was strong enough to lift a truck and fast enough to dodge bullets?

Her eyes drifted back to the huge poster, more than a little envious. Why couldn't be a super sexy underwear model?

She turned away and found herself face to face with a startlingly shiny black sports car parked in the center court. It was the newest model from SAAB, called the Spartan. Her eyes glided over the sleek lines, the convertible top and finally the silver logo of a Roman style helmet. As if from nowhere, a strange sensation made her heart go pitter-pat... a mixture of pleasure and danger. Was it the car? Or did it just remind her of a certain gorgeous hunk of supervillain...?

Suddenly a man's arm snaked around her waist from behind. Caught unawares, Jordin felt her high heels skid as a man lifted her off the floor, clamping one hand over her mouth so that she couldn't scream, his other brawny forearm rubbing against, even crushing her supple breast through her flimsy cotton blouse as his grip tightened around her. This unknown assailant dragged her through a maintenance door so quickly Jordin knew no one could have noticed. Then he carried her down a dark hallway and with no chance to transform into her secret identity, the girl had no hope of resisting.

She was taken into an alcove of some kind... maybe a broom or storage closet...however Jordin was too focused on resisting her feminine urge to panic to determine exactly which. Her blouse came undone as she struggled, giving tantalizing glimpses of her pink bra. A door shut behind them and with no more danger of her screams alerting anyone, his hand wandered downward, pulling up Jordin's miniskirt and feeling around between her legs. The groping hand reached in between her thighs for her panties.

"Please, let me go," she moaned, feeling helpless in his clutches.

"No," the hoodlum whispered, his rough voice sending a chill down her spine.

Oh gawd, Jordin thought, feeling his hand gripping her pussy. This can't be happening...can't be...

It was completely unintentional on his part, however the way he was man-handling her was preventing Jordin from slamming her bracelet's together and becoming Victory. The hand under her skirt began to rub and massage, sending unwelcome tingles dancing up her torso. Jordin squirmed helplessly. Then she felt rough fingers moving her panties aside, and wriggling into the soft, defenseless folds of her labia. She groaned in disgust, knowing she could do nothing to stop this molestation, any pride she had dissolved.

"Please," Jordin begged. "You can have my purse...just please don't hurt me."

Suddenly she was spun around and pressed against a wall. Her attacker's brawny forearm pressed against her throat, tight but not choking. He was a hideously rugged man, with no kindness in his eyes.

"I'll take your purse when I'm done!" he snarled. "If you keep quiet...I'll only make you feel good, baby."

Before Jordin could respond he ripped her blouse completely open! The man stared at her fully exposed C-cups and pink bra. They were heaving with every breath as Jordin was still barely able to contain her panic. His free hand reached down tentatively, cupping and squeezing one firm melon. The hand slipped inside the cup of her bra, his fingers rough on her sensitive nipple, Jordin had to bite back a shuddery moan...she had to do something!

Just then something WHAPPED the thug on the side of the head, making him let go of her. While he was dazed, Jordin shrank back into a corner, clutching her torn and disheveled clothes around her.

"That was just to get your attention," said a male voice, low and dangerous. A man was standing silhouetted by the light coming down the breezeway. He was wearing a trenchcoat, which he let fall to the floor revealing -- Jordin gulped, feeling her heart quiver -- the uniform of a Roman Centurion!

"You shoulda went on to yer Halloween party, jackass," the thug sneered, drawing a huge, nasty-looking knife with black sawtoothed blade and a crooked point like a fang.

Jordin shivered with fright just looking at it! The Centurion didn't even seem to notice it.

"This is what I think of cowards who prey upon helpless women," he said calmly, as he stepped forward.

Jordin had seen the Centurion in action before, had seen him dispatch trained combat soldiers with ruthless efficiency. But as he fought this creep, every punch -- in the balls, the stomach, the back of the neck, the kidneys -- was calculated to cause pain. Only when the thug was on his knees literally sobbing and begging did he finally knock him out. With the bad guy strewn unconscious on the floor, the Centurion turned on his heel and walked away without another word.

He didn't even notice me, Jordin thought, feeling somehow even smaller at that realization. I thought...no, of course not...he would recognize this cowering helpless girl...ugh!

Jordin pulled herself together. What was he even doing here? Then she remembered the exhibition of rare Roman coins at Abercrombie and Finch! She pushed back the sleeves of her blouse,exposing the silvery bracelets that transformed her into the superheroine Victory. It seemed like a dirty trick after he had just rescued her, but after all he WAS a supervillain! In the back of her mind, a tiny little voice asked mockingly if that was the only reason she wanted to see him again, but she pushed it aside and clashed her bracelets together.

After the blinding flash of light had faded, Jordin Tyler had once again become VICTORY, clad in a daring two piece costume of purple Lycra -- her shapely tail covered by a pair of hip-hugging hotpants held up by her slightly off center power belt, her bust restrained by a halter top emblazoned with her trademark "V" with silver high heeled boots completing her look. She made sure her mask was in place and took off in pursuit.