Prologue -- Hazelton Federal Prison, West Virginia
A nervous young man with pale green eyes wearing a prison jumpsuit was ushered into an interview room with a table and two chairs. A man in a black suit was seated at the table already, looking at an open folder in front of him.
"Sit down, Mr. Butz," the man said.
The young man licked his lips and sat down.
"My name is Dinsdale, Department of Homeland Security, Superhuman Enforcement Division," the other man, reading from the folder, said, "Irwin Butz... let me see... theft of military secrets, cyber espionage, accessory to kidnapping. It says here you made a deal with Federal prosecutor Isadora Porteous to testify against Janosz Spivak in exchange for witness protection when your prison term expires. Is that correct?"
"Yes," Butz said sulkily. "Spivak swore to kill me after the Fuchsia Fox broke up his human trafficking pipeline with the Czech Republic. He barely got out of that one on a technicality."
"But Spivak's in prison himself now, in Maryland."
"So? Lemil is still out there. Kodoski is still out there. I don't want anything more to do with them. I've told that Porteous chick everything I know."
"I'm here on a completely different matter," Dinsdale said. "Do you remember this?" He passed over a photograph of a black tube about two feet long and six inches in diameter.
Butz felt a shiver at the sight of it. "Yeah. It's one of the reasons I'm in prison. I stole the plans for that from the Department of Defense."
"A portable Electro Magnetic Pulse projector. According to your deposition, you used it to capture the Fuchsia Fox. This isn't the original, of course. This is a knock off we confiscated from Damien Devlin when he was arrested. It doesn't work nearly as well as your prototype did."
"Mine was more than just an EMP," Butz said dully. "I call it an EPD, Extra-human Power Disruption Cannon. It synchronizes with the target's unique power signature and disrupts it. But the prototype was destroyed."
Dinsdale leaned across the table. "We want you to build us another one. A better one. We tried it from the original blueprints, but the techs tell me that you must have tinkered with it, done something different."
Butz didn't say anything. He was thinking about the last time he had fired his prototype at the Fox, and she had somehow caused it to melt into slag without even touching it.
"If you help me out," Dinsdale said, "I can reduce your sentence, get you a parole, set you up on the West Coast where Spivak's men will never find you."
Butz shook his head. "You don't get it, Jack. This is the Fuchsia Fox we're talking about! I don't think there's any portable hand carried weapon that can stop her."
"I don't believe that," Dinsdale said. He flipped the folder shut, stood up from his chair, and straightened his tie. "But if you don't want to help your country, there's nothing more I can say." He picked up the folder and walked toward the door. "Oh, did I tell you? I have good news, too. You're being transferred... to Cumberland Prison in Maryland. Better facilities than this place, much more comfortable."
Butz had gone pale. "B-b-but that's where Spivak is! He'll kill me! You can't put me in the same prison with him!"
"I can't?" Dinsdale said. He shrugged and turned toward the door again.
"WAIT!" Butz said. He stared glumly at his fingernails. "Okay, I'll do it."
"I hoped you'd say that. I'll start the paperwork to get you released to my custody right away. Welcome aboard, Mr. Butz." As Dinsdale left the interview room, he found a beautiful bronze-skinned woman with curly copper red hair waiting for him in the corridor, wearing a khaki shirt and long denim skirt.
"I'm telling you, sugar, it won't work," said Powerhouse. "Zumerian technology is un-hackable. The people of my planet have tried."
"So you say," Dinsdale shrugged. "Do you have a better idea?"
"As a matter of fact, honey-child," Powerhouse said with a grin, "I do."
Chapter 1 – Three weeks later... Dulles International Airport, Washington D.C.
"Get ready..." said the voice over the loudspeaker. The crowd hushed, shading their eyes against the mid-day sun. "...get set..."
The Fuchsia Fox took a firm grip on the thick rope in her right hand, taking a turn around her gloved forearm. The free end of rope snaked loosely around her alluring waist, her left hand just holding it out of her way as she braced her long legs in ankle boots on the concrete. Her lissome body tensed, clad in its distinctive two-piece costume. Her tight reddish-purple halter top with its fox head emblem caressed the proud swell of her young bust, and below her smooth bare midriff, her 14 inch miniskirt fluttered seductively in the slight breeze.
"... GO!!!" A starter's pistol fired, and the crowd cheered.
The rope around the superheroine's forearm grew taut as twenty men of the University of Maryland football team pulled on the other end. For a moment, the Fox's heel began to slip under the pressure, but then she drew more power from her bracelets of Ishtar to counterbalance the pull, leaning backward to firmly hold her position.
The crowd was shouting and hooting while the football team's cheerleaders and supporters danced up and down with high spirits, egging them on. The Fox couldn't help but smile, their enthusiasm was so infectious. She was only supposed to be judging this airplane pull, a charity fundraising event in which teams from various community groups vied to see how far they could pull an empty DC-10 aircraft across the tarmac. But someone in the public relations department had conceived the idea of this impromptu tug-of-war with the winning team.
Slowly she began pulling the team her way. The entire twenty-man group dug their feet in, struggling to resist. The superheroine couldn't help but be distracted a little by the beefcake on the other side -- a score of bronzed young athletes in their sexual prime, about half of them shirtless, their gorgeous rippling muscles glistening with masculine sweat in the sun. Ooooooh...
The Fox faltered slightly, her pulse racing with excitement. Playfully, she eased off on the rope a trifle. It wouldn't hurt to go easy on them a little bit, make it look like more of a contest.
Unnoticed, a black man wearing a maintenance uniform was standing at the corner of one of the canvas tents which had been pitched in the grass beside the tarmac. He was holding a two-foot-long tube of black metal braced against the corner, taking aim at the delectable body of the Fuchsia Fox. "I got the bitch in my sights, dawg," he said to another black man standing beside him. "Just say when."
The other man, larger and more muscular in build, measured the distance with his eyes. "We're too far. Butz said the effective range was thirty feet. This is more like forty or fifty."
"Shit, what do that white punk know, dawg? Lemme shoot her ass."
"No. Over here." The two men shifted position to a towing vehicle which parked twenty feet closer in, their gray maintenance coveralls helping them to blend in as they carried the black tube slung in between them. Fortunately, everyone was focused on the tug-of-war.
The Fox meanwhile was surprised to be struggling, as the team on the other side pulled her slim frame a few feet toward their side of chalk line drawn on the tarmac. That was far enough. She smiled and dug her feet in. Tensing her slender right arm, she bent her elbow, tugging the rope back her way, slowly reaching around with her left hand to reel it in. The crowd roared as the football team was irresistibly pulled forward again. Then the stunning superheroine faltered for a second time. The strain was too much; the rope was slipping through her grasp. She was losing it! Desperately she tried to hold on...
There was no flash of light as the EPD cannon fired, only an invisible stream of ionized particles that hit the Fox like a rush of electricity, stimulating an odd, tingling sensation all over her desirable body. Her super-strength seemed to collapse all at once. Her alluring legs could no longer hold her braced. While maintaining her grip on the rope, the superheroine toppled forward, nimbly managing to keep her balance as she was yanked involuntarily across the white chalk line and toward the team of football players, who had fallen on their asses when the rope unexpectedly went slack.
The crowd was cheering and howling with delight, and the Fox laughed good-naturedly along with them. It was only an exhibition for charity, no big deal. It had been fun, even if--
Suddenly a pair of strong male arms grabbed the superheroine from behind, one hand capturing the young heroine's left breast, fondling her supple orb, the other going for her throat. The Fox felt herself trapped in the clutches of a strong man, her arms pinned. Her strength seemed to have momentarily deserted her. Struggle as she might, the girl was helpless in his hands.
"Hey there, Foxy Baby," her captor said. "Whassup?"
"Demetrius Van Meter?" the Fox gasped, feeling his hard anaconda rub against her butt through the pants of his maintenance man uniform.
"In the flesh," the black man smirked, fingers rubbing the taut nipple of her left breast. "And your own pink flesh is still so damn sweet for a man who's been in prison. I dreamed lot about these little tits of yours."
"What are you doing here?" the heroine asked with a gasp, as he squeezed her boob. Already excited by the heat and physical activity, her cheeks flushed as a warm surge of arousal spread from her breast down through her body. "Get your hands off me!"
"What's the matter?" Demetrius asked. "Having trouble? You know, you still owe me some pussy. Let's go somewhere and talk about it. 'Course when I say talk, I mainly mean me spreading your legs and plowing your ass from behind."
The Fox quivered in her tracks, looking frantically around. The spectators were still cheering. The football team and cheerleaders were still in high spirits from their victory. Nobody seemed aware that she was being attacked, or if they did, they must have thought he was just a fan and that there was nothing out of the ordinary going on.
"I said, get your hands off me, loser." the Fox again said, this time with more resolve. Kicking forward with her long, lovely gams, the spunky heroine was able to twist her lithe young body in Demetrius' clutches far enough to free her arms. The black man held onto her throat, his other arms sliding down her sleek torso to reach up under her miniskirt, but thanks to Barbara Wright's training, the girl managed to squirm out of his grasp and flipped him over her hip onto the tarmac.
Demetrius was on his feet at once. His big fist intending to plow mercilessly into the beautiful girl's jaw... and came up short against her invisible force shield. "Oh crap," muttered the black man, realizing that the effect of Butz' EPD cannon had worn off.
The Fox thrust out her right fist. Demetrius tried to parry, but in a blinding blitzkrieg of punches, the superheroine powered through his defenses and slapped him on the chest with the flat of one hand, sending him sailing at least twenty feet, fortunately for him into the tables that had been set up for the judges and not into the unforgiving concrete tarmac.
"Wow! That was amazing!" The football team and the cheerleaders surged around the Fox's lithe young body like a tide, still hyped up about the tug-of-war. The stunning super-lady found herself surrounded by young people, all trying to touch her gorgeous flesh, take selfies with her, and so on. She couldn't exactly brush them aside to go after Demetrius. And anyway, what exactly had he done -- just grabbed her and tried to fondle her? That was hardly a crime to worry about. As to her momentary loss of strength, the heroine could only suppose that it was simple fatigue from the heat and the tug-of-war game. Right now, she was too distracted to worry about it.
Someone helped Demetrius up, and he blended into the crowd. Minutes later, he joined Jamaal in the parking lot, loading the EPD cannon into the back of their van. "That wuz a bust, watn' it?" the smaller man said bitterly.
"Get in," Demetrius said, sliding into the driver's seat.
Chapter 2 -- Homeland Security Offices, Superhuman Enforcement Division
Inside the cluttered laboratory, five people were present -- Irwin Butz, wearing a white lab coat over drab gray prison shirt and trousers; Powerhouse, wearing a tight white tank top and loose camo cargo pants; Demetrius and Jamaal, still in their maintenance uniforms; and Dinsdale. "So what happened?" the latter asked impatiently.
"It looks like there was contingent dampening effect," Butz said nervously, studying the data on his computer screen, "lasting approximately 25 seconds. It works!"
"What do you mean, it Works?" Dinsdale scoffed. "We need her out of action for longer than 25 seconds."
"This was just a test run," the nerd said patiently. "You don't want her to know we can neutralize her powers, do you? Trust me, it works. All I need to do is ramp up the power level a bit and we can knock her powers out for an hour, or as long as you want, really."
Dinsdale turned abruptly on Demetrius and Jamaal. "And what did you think YOU were doing, attacking her like that?" he snapped. Jamaal, who had been staring absently at Powerhouse's D-sized tits, looking so nice and plump straining against the front her white tank top, jumped guiltily to attention and did a half-assed salute.
Demetrius crossed his arms defiantly. "I had to make sure your gadget worked, didn't I?" he said. "That is what you hired us for, so that if something goes wrong, it doesn't get traced back to you."
"Get this straight, Van Meter," Dinsdale said. "You're a parolee. The Fuchsia Fox has committed no crime, and I will not tolerate you using this project to carry out your own personal vendetta."
"Really?" the black man scoffed. "I thought this whole thing was a personal vendetta. Otherwise, why are we going to all this trouble to neutralize her powers?"
"Because I love this country," Dinsdale said. "If in the future she becomes a threat, I want us to be ready. It's as simple as that. If you can't operate under my guidelines, I'll sling you back in prison so fast, it'll make your head spin. Am I clear?"
"I hear you," Demetrius reluctantly conceded.
Dinsdale turned back to Powerhouse. "What about your idea? How is that coming along?"
"The power harness," the bronze-skinned woman grinned. She led them across the lab to where a female mannequin was wearing a flat backpack secured with a heavy belt around its waist and two straps across its chest in an X. Cables also ran along the shoulders and the backs of the mannequin's arms, ending at the wrists. "My specialty is cybernetic control systems," Powerhouse said. "Butz is working on the power units. But this will give you the idea..."
She flicked a switch on the side of the harness, activating a manual control as she raised the mannequin's right arm. Instantly a telescoping metallic cable shot out from the wrist, reaching out about fifteen feet and wrapping around a thick iron post which had been sunk in concrete in the middle of the floor. The whip snaked around the post, tightened, and crumpled up the post.
"Stressed titanium-steel alloy," Powerhouse explained. "In full operation, the whips will be reinforced with an energy field, virtually unbreakable. They will be able to squeeze any opponent into submission."
"Impressive, if it works," Dinsdale said.
"We have a full field test scheduled for next week down at the proving grounds."
"Good. Keep me apprised," their boss said, turning on his heel and leaving them.
Powerhouse went back to tinkering with the power harness. Jamaal went back to staring at her chest. Butz was carefully studying the data on his tablet. "Hey, whassup, white boy?" Demetrius said quietly. Butz tried to ignore him.
"There's a rumor going around," the black man said, keeping his voice low, "that one of the reasons you got into trouble was peeking into a certain Somebody's bedroom." Butz' cheeks flushed, but he didn't answer.
"Cards on the table. Do you know the Fuchsia Fox's real identity, or don't you?"
Butz paused, momentarily flashing back to his arrest. The Military Police had laughed at the idea that he knew the Fox's identity, and in fact he couldn't see any way to use the information at his trial, so he hadn't even mentioned it to his counsel. All those long months in prison, he had held it close to him like a security blanket, keeping him warm on those nights when his imagination had replayed the videos he had taken in secret of the sexy superheroine in her apartment, videos of her undressed, taking showers and canoodling -- videos which had all been confiscated and destroyed by her husband, who was in the Army. As far as Butz was concerned, he had paid for that knowledge with his own sweat, and he'd be damned if he'd share it with anybody.
"Are you nuts?" he said to Demetrius. "If I knew the Fox's identity, would I be here? I could tell Dinsdale and I'd be out of here."
The black man shrugged. "We all have our secrets, man. I have a piece of video myself, of the Fox captured and getting stripped half out of her costume. Mmmm, I don't have to tell you how juicy her little pink sweetmeat is..."
In spite of himself, Butz felt a tremble of arousal through his body at the very mention of it. How many times in his dreams had he sucked the Fox's sweet pussy? His forehead began to sweat.
"You like that?" Demetrius teased shrewdly. "I'm also in contact with your old buddy Kodoski. It seems to me that between us, we should be able to work something out for our mutual advantage."
Butz looked up in horror at the mention of Kodoski's name. Demetrius grinned. "One hand washes the other," he said. "And what Dinsdale don't know won't hurt him."
In a loft apartment in Falls Church, Virginia, two beautiful young women squared off. One was blonde, dressed in black shorts, a dark green sports bra, and sneakers. The other was the Fuchsia Fox.
"I thought I'd step up our session just a tad," Major Barbara Wright said, briefly twirling her five foot long padded quarterstaff like a baton, then bringing it back to combat position. "You ready?"
"Don't I get one?" the Fox asked. The two of them had already done some warm-up sparring bouts, their hot young bodies already glistening with perspiration from their workout. Her bracelets of Ishtar she had removed and set aside so that she didn't have their unfair advantage.
"Get real, Fox," the blonde replied. "Your enemies aren't going to hand you a weapon when they attack you."
"But--" SWOOSH! Barbara had already charged, swinging one end of the staff at the Fox’s head, which the young heroine ducked just in time. The Fox parried, dodged, and blocked thrusts as the two girls danced across the yoga mats. Evading one swipe, the lissome heroine spun on her heel and raised one flawless leg in a lateral kick just in time to catch another lightning-quick smack with the padded staff against her ribcage. She rolled with the blow, turning a graceful backwards somersault to get some distance between them.
"Come on," Barbara panted, flicking a stray hair out of her face. Perspiration was matting her hair, trickling down the steamy valley of her sweet cleavage. "Show me what you've got."
The Fox leaped forward, eluding a jab from the staff with a swift sideways pivot that brought her into a position to grapple. As she grabbed the staff and executed a perfect disarming move, Barbara unexpectedly let it go. Slipping behind the stunning super-lady, the blonde's slender arms snaked tightly around the Fox's lean, slippery torso, her hands briefly and unexpectedly rubbing against the soft mounds of her foe’s young breasts, as she tried to get her into position for a hip throw.
The intimate contact reminded the beautiful brunette heroine of her encounter with Demetrius earlier that day. She had meant to call Lt. Caldwell at the D.C. police department and ask how he had gotten parole so quickly -- but this was not the time to let herself get distracted.
The Fox squirmed like an eel, twisting and groping for a counter-move, her right hand sliding around Barbara's back, fingers clutching at the back of her sport bra. Just then Barbara hooked one alluring leg around the Fox's sensuous stems, sweeping her over her hip. The superheroine tumbled to the mat, pulling the blonde over on top of her and peeling her sport bra right over her head.
The two girls sprawled on the mat together, gulping air into their lungs as they jockeyed for position. Barbara found herself at a decided disadvantage with her sport bra tangled around her elbows and her delicious pliant C-cups jiggling bare and unprotected. "I think..." she gasped, lying flat on her back with the Fox astraddle on top of her, "we'll call that one... a draw..."
"Draw my ass," the Fox protested. "I finally beat you fair and square, admit it. Say it!"
"Okay, uncle!" Barbara laughed, her arms pinned above her head and her butt pressed against the yoga mat by the slender weight of her attractive captor, leaving her body totally vulnerable. "You finally win one. Are you happy? Now let me up."
The brunette caught her breath. Barbara looked so breathtakingly desirable, lying there on her back glistening in sweat, her nipples peaked like little bullets on top of her succulent breasts. The heroine felt a sudden urge to lean forward and kiss them. She closed her eyes and fought it down. Slowly she climbed off of her, and on their knees on the mat they faced each other.
"Here's your reward," Barbara said, pressing forward against her and kissing her on the mouth. Taken by surprise, the Fox didn't resist... she couldn't. The warmth of the blonde girl's lips and tongue took her off guard, stirring unexpected heat inside her nubile young body. Her heart was thundering like a drum.
"You know, Fox," the blonde said, breaking the kiss, "I've never asked about your private life. With teacher and pupil, you know... you don't want to complicate things. I'm assuming that you do... you know, get laid every now and then?"
The heroine's pulse was singing. Barbara didn't know it, but the Fox was in fact married to Martin Fletcher, one of Barbara's colleagues at the Pentagon. "Uh... I've been known to, on occasion." The Fox answered.
"Good. Great. We'll just leave it there for now. Let's get showered."
Chapter 3 -- Five days later...
Jennifer Traylor Fletcher, assistant curator of the National Archives, returned to her office from a late afternoon meeting with some of the other Smithsonian administrators. Today she was wearing off-white bell-bottom pants with a blue X-cross top that left her shoulders bare.
"You've had about twenty e-mails, Ms. Fletcher," said her personal assistant, Gloria. "Most of it's routine stuff. And I'm supposed to remind you to meet Dr. Gervais in the morning at Natural History."
"As if I'd forget," Jennifer smiled, thinking fondly of her old boss at the Smithsonian. "Okay, Gloria, you can go. See you in the morning." Jennifer eased into the chair behind her desk and ran an eye over her messages. Nothing that couldn't wait for tomorrow. She took a moment to check her personal e-mails, one of which was from her husband, Martin, who was in Iceland with General Hughes attending some kind of anti-terrorism summit.
As she struggled to think of a suitable reply, something that would convey how much she missed him without at the same time making him feel too guilty about being away from her, her smart phone rang. Distractedly she glanced at the ID on the screen -- "T. Winston"
Jennifer smiled. She hadn't heard from Thomas Westerton in months! Winston was the alias he used to disguise the fact that he was one of the richest men in the country. Eagerly she answered her phone and watched his handsome lined face with salt-and-pepper hair appear on the vid screen.
"Thomas! How nice to hear from you again!"
"Ah, Jennifer," he replied. "It's always a pleasure to talk to you and hear your voice. Is everything well with you? Everything okay with you and Martin?"
"Couldn't be better," the girl said. "We're..." She bit her lip, unable to think how to finish that sentence. After all, at one time, Thomas had been a rival for her affection. She and Thomas had had a brief but torrid affair. Would he really want to hear about Martin? "We're deliriously happy," she said finally. "Did you have a personal reason for calling me up?"
"Ah yes," Thomas said. "Although I am delighted to hear about the two of you, it is mainly a business matter I have to talk to you about. You know that my staff lawyers take care of the licensing for the Fuchsia Fox Halloween costumes and posters and so on..."
"Er... Thomas, I'm at work," Jennifer said in a warning tone.
"Oh don't worry," the billionaire said dismissively. "This is an encrypted line. No one can overhear us. They -- the lawyers that is -- also keep an eye out for unlicensed merchandise, especially porn videos and so on. Most of them are cheaply made, of course. But there is one that turned up today. Every time they take it down from one place, it pops up in another. I thought you'd want to see it."
A video began playing on the screen, the time index along the bottom indicating that it was under three minutes long. The video was of a beautiful brunette girl, dressed in a Fuchsia Fox costume. That is, the halter top and gloves. The lower half of the costume was very obviously absent.
"I'll never give in to the likes of you," the girl was mewling. She was lying flat on her back on a round bed, her arms held above her head by a white guy while she tried to kick with her legs. But kneeling in front of her on the bed and holding her ankles was a muscular, very good looking black man, with gold chains hanging around his bare, hairy chest.
Jennifer's cheeks flushed crimson as she realized that this girl was HER! It was the video taken by Demetrius Van Meter the time her powers had been temporarily knocked out by a lightning bolt -- the video she had copied but then stupidly forgotten to delete from Demetrius' laptop computer.
The black man smiled as his big hands tightened around the girl's silken calves, holding her helpless, holding her legs spread so that her pink, trimmed pussy was clearly visible in the video. "That's right, mama," he said gruffly. "Put up a struggle if that makes you feel better. You white chicks always do. But we both know you want it. You can't wait for it..."
The image jiggled a little as the person holding the camera moved to a different angle. From this side, the black man's enormous penis was visible, rising up like an anaconda. The girl's face -- Jennifer's face -- went pale at the sight of it.
"Oh please!" the Fox on the video begged, her butt rubbing against the bed as she struggled in the grips of the two men holding her by her ankles and by her wrists. "Please give it to me! Please I beg you! I'll do anything!"
A fresh surge of shame heated Jennifer's cheeks. Actually, she had said something like, "It would take a bigger man than you!" The video had clearly been edited and overdubbed. She couldn't help wondering how many people had already seen this humiliating thing.
But the Fuchsia Fox in this video sounded as if she were quite willing and ready to give in and let herself be taken. The black man, Demetrius, was kneeling between her legs, his body as rigid as steel, his hands sliding along her knees, then along her creamy inner thighs as he reached forward to touch her wet girl thing. The girl moaned out loud as he fingered her slippery pussy lips, peeling back the petals of her labia and stroking her juicy clit.
"Oooh that feels tight," Demetrius said, his hands sliding underneath her, holding her butt cheeks, lifting her bottom up slightly as he positioned himself to enter her.
Right then the picture froze, overwritten with text: "Watch this website for Part Two, where the Fuchsia Fox not only gets nailed but UNMASKED! You will never believe who she really is!" Then the video ended.
"Well, that's what we have," Westerton said, his voice sympathetic. "Jenn, do I need to ask?"
"Yes, it is me," Jennifer confessed. "They had slipped me a hit of Ecstasy. But even so the reason the film stops at that point is that right then I kicked his butt and broke free. There is no Part Two."
"Are you sure?" Thomas said gently. "You said that you were drugged. Could they have... unmasked you? By that I mean taken your costume top off so that without its image enhancement you could be recognized as Jennifer Fletcher?"
Jennifer bit her lip. She hadn't thought of that! She had been knocked out shortly after this. Doubt entered her mind, was it possible they had removed her top at that time and taken photos? "I... I can't be sure," she was forced to honestly say.
"Well, the good news is that our tech staff has just managed to trace the IP address of the video's originator through his wireless node. It was uploaded from a computer located at 1903 Leighton Street. Does it sound familiar?"
"Oh yes," Jennifer said coldly. "I think I should drop by there tonight and see what's going on."
"Be very careful, darling," Thomas said pointedly, and then got off the line.
At the Homeland Security Offices, Powerhouse, dressed in a black zip-up jumpsuit which hugged her ample curves in all the right places, touched her security badge against the lab door and went inside, still feeling buzzed from the successful test run of her power harness at the Springfield proving grounds that afternoon. Of course, her own body was strong enough to pick up cars and throw them, but with the titanium-steel cables built into the harness, she could reach up to twenty feet and rip cars in half. The next time she faced off against the Fuchsia Fox, that little pussy heroine was not going to stand a chance!
She heard a buzz from the door as Dinsdale entered the lab. "Was the test successful?" he asked.
"It sure was, honey-child," the copper-haired girl said with a grin. "But then you know that already, don't you?"
"How would I know that?" her boss scowled. "I've been in New York all day. I just got back."
Powerhouse frowned. "But I talked to you on the phone. You said you had been watching the test by webcam and you wanted Butz and Van Meter to take the harness to show to your buddies in the Army. I know you remember how much I argued--"
"I did no such thing," Dinsdale snapped, looking around the lab. "Are you telling me that Demetrius Van Meter has his hands on your power harness?"
Chapter 4
Leighton Street looked different in the daytime. It was still run-down and graffiti-ridden, but somehow still respectable. In the slanting light of the late afternoon sun, the hookers trolling for customers could have been just teenage girls waiting for buses that never seemed to come. The colorful people who populated the area after the sun went down were only just beginning to make their appearance.
Jennifer glided along sixty feet above the street, now clad in her Fuchsia Fox costume -- elbow length gloves, ankle boots, clingy halter top and tight, boy-cut hip-huggers. Something was wrong. She had already passed the porn shop where Demetrius had held her captive the first time, and that was only the 1300 block.
She found 1903 at the very end of the street -- a dark, silent factory building which looked as if it had lain abandoned for thirty years. The Fox slipped through the long-shattered panes of a skylight and landed inside the building. A handful of pigeons took flight, alarmed at her sudden arrival. All around her were the rusted remains of dead machinery.
On one side of the factory floor was a line of offices. A light was showing at the top of a staircase. The spunky superheroine quickly crossed the floor and climbed the stair, the high heels of her ankle boots echoing in the stillness. There she found a room which had been cleaned up and swept. To her right was a picture window with no glass that looked out onto the factory floor the way she had come, and on the opposite wall were two doorways presumably leading into other offices. The otherwise empty room held only a battered metal desk upon which sat a desk lamp and an open laptop computer. On the screen was the video of her in Demetrius' bed, playing in an endless loop.
The Fox reached out with her gloved fingers and pressed keys, shutting off the video.
"I knew that would get your attention," said a deep male voice. "Whassup, Foxy Girl?"
Demetrius stepped through one of the doorways. He was wearing black jeans and Wellington boots, plus a puffy-sleeved, violet shirt that made him look something like a pirate. He seemed to be wearing some kind of metallic harness under the shirt next to his skin; Jennifer could see a kind of knob-like boss in the center of his chest where the straps crossed together in an x.
"It really is her, I suppose?" said another familiar male voice, as Ignatz Kodosky appeared in the other doorway, holding his Luger trained at the Fox as his eyes ran up her long, elegant legs and torso. The man who was now in control of Janosz Spivak's human trafficking organization was wearing brown trousers and shirt with brown jackboots, missing only his hat and swastika armbands to look exactly the way the superheroine had last seen him at the Club X party. Behind him appeared two henchmen carrying ion rifles.
"It's not that I don't trust you, Van Meter," he said, "but you promised me the Fuchsia Fox. How do I know that she isn't just one of your whores dressed up like her?"
"'SHE' can hear you," the Fox scoffed, planting her hands on her shapely waist. "Be a good boy and wait your turn, Kodosky. Okay Van Meter, what's the scam?"
"No scam, Fox," the big black man said, letting his arms hang easily at his sides. "That laptop contains the only copy of that video clip. If you want it, all you have to do is take it."
"And Part Two, where I supposedly get unmasked?" the cocky heroine said.
"You and I both know there is no Part Two," Demetrius grinned. "That was just a come-on for the homies."
Jennifer silently breathed a sigh of relief. "And all I have to do is take it?" she asked distrustfully.
"Well now..." the black man said with a mischievous gleam in his eye, "it goes without saying you also have to make it out of the room with it."
The Fox felt a sudden tingle of anxiety like an ice cube on her spine. This had all the signs of a trap. Demetrius sounded so confident, but for all appearances he was unarmed. Not daring to move, the girl cut her eyes to Kodosky, still holding his Luger on her (which worried her about as much as a peashooter would) with his henchmen behind him. Okay, their ion rifles fired concussion beams that might be worth watching. Then back to Demetrius, with his arms at his sides like a gunfighter in an old western, although he had no weapons at all that she could see. Which of them was going to make the first move? The tension was thick.
It was Kodosky who twitched first, pulling the trigger of his Luger. Bullets pinged harmlessly off the Fox's invisible force shield as the lissome young superheroine lunged at the desk, vaulting gracefully over it, snatching up the laptop and smashing it against the floor. A second later the two thugs crowded the doorway, opening fire with their ion rifles. Jennifer ducked the twin energy beams, picking up the heavy metal desk and hurling it at them, knocking all three men into the other room.
Just then Demetrius struck. Two whip-like metal cables abruptly sprouted from the backs of his wrists through slits in the puffy sleeves of his shirt. Whoosh! The first whip missed the Fox's head by about an inch, a blue-white glow of energy crackling along its six foot length as the metal ripped through the sheetrock behind her like paper.
"I see you've got a new trick," she said, her lean, young body spinning into a roundhouse kick that caught her adversary in the stomach and shoved him back a few paces with a grunt of dismay. And yet the stunning superheroine could tell that something had blunted the force of her kick, almost as if he had a low-grade force field of his own. That was going to make this battle interesting!
"Yeah. Dig it," Demetrius grinned as his other arm came around in a shallow arc, slashing the other cable across the Fox's sleek, toned ribcage. The gallant girl felt the sting of the impact, but fortunately neither metal nor its energy sheath penetrated her shield.
From behind him, the Fox caught a glimpse of the outline of some kind of flat power pack strapped to Demetrius' back underneath his puffy shirt. Then he twisted around, flailing again with both metal whips. As the spunky super-girl dodged, it struck her that it would be a good idea to get out of the confined space of this relatively small room. Eluding a second slash, she flipped her lithe young body through the open picture window and into the factory itself, alighting gracefully on the floor fifteen feet below.
Without hesitation, Demetrius leaped out the window after her. The cables extended to fifteen feet, hooking the frame of the stairs to slow his fall. "Don't wimp out on me now, baby," he taunted, landing on his feet. "Let's get down and dirty!"
He lashed out again with his right whip, blue-white energy dancing along its now fifteen-foot length. The Fox had meant to keep her distance, but caught by surprise by the thing's reach, the girl could only evade with a pirouette as the whip made an explosive crack inches away from her, cutting through a mass of rusted machinery like cardboard. The other whip arced toward her from her other side, and she instinctively tried to block it with her forearm.
The cable coiled around her slender, glove-sheathed arm as if it were alive, clinging tightly like a snake. The Fox struggled to yank her arm free as the other whip quickly snaked around her silken leg, climbing upward around her seductive thighs, hips and waist. The heroine shivered at the smooth, almost serpentine feel of the metallic coils on her bare skin, accompanied by the tingle of their energy sheath as they wrapped around and around her alluring body, gliding sinuously over the soft, pliable mounds of her breasts, and pulled taut across her ribs, constricting her.
ZAP! All at once, Forty thousand volts of electricity unexpectedly arced through both metal whips, overwhelming the Fox's force shield with a painful shock that wrung a feminine cry from her. "AHHHHH!!!"
"Didn't expect that, did ya?" Demetrius grinned. "Don't think I forgot how that lightning bolt took you down that time, wuss. How's about it? Want another?"
"You've...nnngh!... got to be kidding," the Fox groaned, as a second jolt shot through her body. "This is just a... light tingle compared to that."
She struggled in the tight embrace of the coils, pushing outward with her slender arms, exerting all of her superhuman strength to break free. The whips were titanium-steel alloy, reinforced by some kind of force field, but slowly the spunky superheroine felt them give, uncoiling enough to let her draw air into her lungs.
Demetrius looked worried, scowling as he fought to tighten the coils around her again, but the Fox kept pushing with her arms, holding the cables away from her lovely torso. "Butz!" he called. "Get your butt in here!"
Jennifer's brown eyes opened wide. Irwin Butz? What was HE doing here?
With a burst of strength, she broke free of the cables, doing a forward cartwheel and ending with a kick to Demetrius' broad chest that sent him staggering off his feet.
The nervous young man with pale green eyes stepped out of one of the empty ground floor offices, with Jamaal right beside him. Butz was carrying the EPD cannon -- a black, two-foot long cylinder that the Fox remembered all too well from their previous encounter.
Without hesitation, Butz braced himself, took aim, and fired it. The invisible wave of ionized particles rushed out like a hot wind, engulfing the superheroine with a not exactly unpleasant tingling sensation. The results, however, were far from pleasant. The Fox stood there, stunned, as she felt the super-strength granted by her bracelets of Ishtar drain away from her!
Demetrius sat up, slinging his titanium-steel cables around her again. This time there was no resisting them as the sinuous metal whips snaked around her body tightly, pinning her arms helplessly to her sides. The villain grinned as he sent yet another jolt of electricity through the whips.
"AAAAHHHH!" the Fox cried. With no force shield to protect her this time, the young heroine readily succumbed to the stunning force, falling limp as a ragdoll in the rigid metal coils.
"That's good, Fox Baby," Demetrius chuckled, slacking off the pressure. "That's fine. We don't want to kill you, do we?" The cables loosened, sliding sensually along the Fox's lissome form as she struggled to remain conscious. The next thing she knew, her sylph-like body was encircled by the big man's muscular arms as the whips retracted into their sheaths under his puffy sleeves.
"It seems to me like we've been in this position before," Demetrius gloated, one strong arm around her back to hold her heavenly body upright, while the other hand cupped her left breast through the flimsy fabric of her halter top, his thumb rubbing her nipple. "Oooh I do love them titties of yours."
"What... what happened?" the Fox gasped, feeling totally powerless and so weak that she couldn't even stand.
"Mr. Butz has just neutralized your powers for an hour," Demetrius said. "That gives us plenty of time to have some fun."
"You been skunked, mama!" shouted Jamaal. "That's what happened."
The beautiful young superheroine let out a tiny involuntary sound of fear, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. She knew that Butz was obsessed with her. He had stalked her. He had wanted her for his own and he had come dangerously close to accomplishing that very thing! His pale green orbs met hers for a fraction of a second and he looked away, licking his lips.
"It's, uh..." he said hesitantly, "it's a matter of matching the exact z-space signature of the ultra-wave power aura that surrounds her body. Then you generate a counter-pulse to neutralize it. At the lower settings, there's a contingent dampening effect for just a few minutes, but at higher levels it should stop her for an hour or more. The very highest setting should be permanent, or close to it."
"You been skunked, mama!" shouted Jamaal. "That's what happened. This gonna be good! I call dibs, dawg! I gotta have her first! I guarantee she won't never forget it."
"I get her first," Demetrius said without taking his eyes off the sexy superheroine. "Do you have the camera?" he asked Jamaal.
"I got it right heah, big man," the lackey said, slipping a digital camera out of the pocket of his jeans. "Just say when."
"I've looked forward to this for a long time," Demetrius said, as a low, bestial growl rumbled in his throat. The hand that was holding Jennifer's waist glided down the curve of her back, patting the rounded shape of the superheroine's tempting little caboose, his strong fingers squeezing her soft buttock as he pulled her roughly against him. "And of course, I’m going to post the pictures for everyone to see."
The Fox felt a horrible sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. At the same time, she felt his trouser snake moving inside his pants, thick and hard as an iron bar. Her knees trembled weakly at the thought of that huge anaconda claiming her, dominating her, pushing through the petals of her labia and sliding into her moist, tender love hole.
Defying the horror of the situation, her snatch gushed with dampness at the very idea of it. Meanwhile, his other hand slipped gently underneath the front of her clingy halter top, pushing the flimsy fabric up as he groped at the firm, naked flesh of her coconuts. Jennifer squirmed uncomfortably in his clutches, her body feeling hot, but with her powers neutralized, there was not a thing she could do about it.
Just then the sound of two hands slowly clapping echoed in the empty factory. Kodosky was coming down the stairs, accompanied by his two thugs. "Congratulations," the crime boss said with a thin smile. "You actually captured her."
Chapter 5
"I said that I would," Demetrius said complacently. Not caring that he had an audience, he backed the Fuchsia Fox against a stack of wooden pallets which came to about knee height, yanking up the front of the sexy superheroine's halter top to expose both her supple breasts into view, their nipples dark pink and growing hard like little bullets.
The Fox couldn't suppress a moan of incipient arousal as his hands cupped her boobs, mashing them together as he leaned over to kiss her swan-like neck. As he fondled her, the backs of her legs unexpectedly hit the stack of pallets, causing her to abruptly sit down. The frightened girl looked around for any means of escape, but saw none. She was powerless, outnumbered by six men -- Demetrius, Jamaal (who was holding the digital camera and filming her!), Kodosky, his two henchmen, and last but not least, Irwin Butz, the inventor of the EPD gun which had momentarily robbed her of her powers.
It suddenly struck Jennifer that her only chance of getting out of this was to stall them as long as possible, in the hope that her powers would return. As Demetrius unbuckled his jeans and let them fall down over his waist, she beat him to the punch. From her sitting position, just below his waist level, the Fox reached out with both hands and seized his already stiff cock. It was huge! Demetrius let out a groan of surprise as the heroine's gloved hands began stroking his man sausage, making it grow hard as iron.
"Nnnn that's fine!" the black man growled, his hands grabbing the Fox's brunette hair to pull her in closer, as Jamaal came in closer with the camera, focusing in on her seemingly wanting lips and face.
The superheroine grimaced with distaste, but she didn't have much choice. Slowly the girl brought her heavenly lips to his penis, kissing the tip of his knob and rubbing it against her face. She tried to take it as slowly as possible, running her mouth along the side of his hot, rigid shaft. Her tongue caressed the veins of his throbbing tool, first on one side, then on the other. Finally, when she could delay no longer, Jennifer opened wide and took it in between her lips, mouth-fucking him slowly.
Trying to slowly work his man snake, in an attempt to buy time, Jennifer’s eyes grew wide with surprise as Demetrius unexpectedly came in no time at all, squirting jizz into her mouth and down her throat, as he let out a satisfied sigh of pleasure. The heroine continued sucking him, her hands cupping his hairy balls, encouraging him to keep pumping until his cum filled her mouth, all in the name of trying to buy herself more time.
In spite of herself, the Fox found herself feeling pretty horny by now, as well, enthralled by how easily she was able to bring Demetrius to orgasm. Her body felt flushed and hot all over, her heart thumping as tendrils of erotic energy chased themselves around and around in her belly. She took one hand off of Demetrius in order to slide it down between her legs to massage her aching clit through the front of her boy-cut shorts, in an attempt to bring her own relief. God, she was so wet!
"Ah yesss!!!" Demetrius groaned as he finished his load, but if the spunky superheroine thought he was done, she was sadly mistaken. He shoved her down against the stack of pallets flat on her back, as he reached down and grabbed the sides of her shorts, sliding them down her long, elegant legs in one swift movement. Jennifer groaned out loud without resisting, as her dripping wet snatch was exposed, her captor making certain by grabbing her silken legs and holding them straight up and apart so that her cleft made a Y shape. Then he lunged toward her.
"Ohhhh, GOD!" the Fox moaned, feeling his invasive cock rubbing against her creamy inner thighs, moist and clammy with carnal desire. His fingers found the petals of her flower, pushing them aside and rubbing her clit to get her ready.
The heroine's heart was pounding with anticipation as her captor positioned himself. He was a bastard who used women like objects and filmed them while doing it. She shouldn't be feeling any pleasure from this, but somehow, she couldn't help herself! Flat on her back with her legs in the air, she absent mindedly cupped her tits in her hands, fondling them as she felt the wonderful thickness of his boner thrusting smoothly inside her lubricated love tunnel.
"OH! OH, GOD!" she gasped as he slid home, closing her eyes with ecstasy as her vagina clenched around his tool.
"You like that, mama?" Demetrius hissed with bravado. Holding her legs pinned against his broad chest, he had particularly deep penetration from his angle as he took her like an engine, slow and steady, grinding against her clit with each thrust.
"Unnnnnn..." was all she could say. Her pulse was racing, spasms of heat running up and down her spine, raising perspiration all over her satin skin. In the heat of the moment, with Demetrius’ ample manhood touching her in all of the right places, the heroine climaxed all over his shaft, biting her lip, arching her back, and straining, trying to resist the urge to ask for more. Despite her physical bliss, Jenn was disgusted in letting Demetrius have her like this, but at the same time, feeling conflicted due to the way her body was so utterly responding to his seemingly magical touch.
Meanwhile, Demetrius continued to thrust his manhood back and forth inside of her, his pace quickening, then suddenly, the villain came again, letting out a deep groan of pleasure, as he squirted his seed deeply inside of the defenseless superheroine. Pulling out of her, the villain was still pulsating in orgasm, splattering more strings of his sticky semen all over her flat, perspiring belly.
"Woooo-wee!" exulted Jamaal, still holding the camera, recording the spectacular display all in high definition video. "Me next! Somebody hold this camera!"
Kodosky nodded his approval over the surprise of what he had just seen. "It would be really sweet putting her on the auction block!”, Kodosky declared, adding “Mr. Van Meter, there may be a place in our organization for someone of your resourcefulness. We can always use an enforcer with such resourcefulness."
Demetrius smiled. "I was thinking more along the lines of a partner."
Just then, something crashed through the skylight. For a brief moment, the Fox had dazed hopes that it was Blackbird or some other local heroine, but that hope was disappointed. The newcomer landed on the factory floor, a red cape fluttering behind her. She was a bronze-skinned woman with curly copper-red hair, her exquisitely feminine, statuesque body sheathed in a long-sleeved leotard of pure white, with an eye-catching oval cut-out in the center of her marvelous chest showing off a spectacular cleavage between her double-D melons. Accessories included a wide gold belt, blue briefs, and blue knee boots.
"What the hell is going on here?" demanded Powerhouse, glaring at the men, as she surveyed the sordid scene.
The two henchmen fired their ion rifles. One concussive beam grazed the beautiful super-agent's side, the other narrowly missed. Powerhouse instantly retaliated with her eyebeams, slamming the two thugs off their feet and knocking them unconscious.
"Chill out, Kodoski," Demetrius said mildly, holding up his hand. "It's copacetic."
"But she is a Homeland Security agent," the crime boss said, holding his Luger aimed at the woman's gorgeous bosom.
"Yeah, but don't hold that against her."
Powerhouse planted her hands on her wide hips, taking in the entire scene -- Demetrius wearing the harness she had sweated to construct, the Fuchsia Fox held prisoner and currently very prone, Butz standing ready with the EPD gun, Jamaal standing next to him with his mouth open, ogling her two luscious bazooms as if he had died and gone to heaven.
"What were you thinking?" she said hotly. "I can appreciate duplicity, honey-child. You worked me like a real pro. And the synthesizer with Dinsdale's voice was a nice touch. I bet that was you, white boy," she added, wagging an accusing finger at Butz. "But sugar, you KNOW I wanted to take the Fox down MYSELF! I got a grudge against her like you wouldn't believe."
Demetrius grinned. "Around here, you need to take a number."
"It seems like everybody wants a piece of me," the Fox deliriously grumbled, quietly slipping back into her boy shorts. "It's really kind of flattering when you think about it."
"Nobody asked for your two cents, smart mouth!" Powerhouse snapped. "You want your little booty whipped, you keep on talking."
The Fox crossed her arms nonchalantly. Suddenly she could feel an odd sensation. Power was pouring back into her desirable limbs through the bracelets of Ishtar, her force shield building to full power, and it hadn't been even close to an hour, more like ten minutes. Had Butz miscalculated how long his neutralizer gun worked?
"Maybe I'm remembering it wrong," she said, suddenly full of confidence, "but last time I think it was ME spanking YOUR fat tush."
"Oooh you did NOT just say that!" the bronze-skinned girl seethed, her eyes blazing red.
"Oh yeah," the spunky superheroine persisted, giggling. "And your leotard got ripped, letting your tits jiggle all over the place. That was funny. I wish I'd taken a picture of that..."
Powerhouse's fiery eyebeams lanced out. The Fox braced herself against the pallets and felt her force shield absorb ninety percent of it, even as she thrust out her right arm and shot back a fuchsia-colored beam of concussive force from her bracelet, just as Ishtar had recently taught her to do. The impact took Powerhouse squarely in the chest and knocked her off her feet.
Immediately she heard the metallic slithering sound of Demetrius unsheathing his titanium cables. "I warned you, bitch," he growled. "Now I'm going to have to hurt you."
The sexy superheroine felt one of his whips snap against her torso, stinging but not really hurting through her force shield. Moving like lightning, she caught the other whip in her glove-sheathed hand, holding it at bay so that it couldn't coil around her. "You don't think I'm stupid enough to let you wrap me up again, do you?" she smirked, doing a spinning leap and kicking him in the chest.
Demetrius staggered back several paces, his whips thrashing about at random. Jennifer evaded, pretty sure by now that his harness provided him with a relatively weak personal force field in addition to powering the cables. But he had to have expended an awful lot of juice zapping her those previous three times. How much could he have left?
The cables telescoped out to full extension and arced toward the Fox. One barely connected with her trim waist, but the spunky heroine caught it near its end with her right hand, then did a quick forward roll as the second whip almost hit her. Catching the second whip with her left hand, she twisted them both together like a braid and swiftly passed them around the concrete support column. For a moment, she could feel the hard metal shafts throbbing in her gloved hands, seemingly growing thicker and harder until they seemed about to burst -- but that was only Demetrius pumping them full of more energy to reinforce them, struggling to regain control.
"Sayonara, sucker," the Fox murmured, bracing her ankle boot and pulling hard on the cables. Demetrius was yanked off his feet, flying straight toward the column. As he smacked into it face first, the sassy supergirl darted around the other side, grabbed him by his husky shoulders, and threw him toward the row of ground floor offices. His flying body rammed straight through the brick wall and collapsed among the rubble, the harness sparking and shorting out. She heard him groan once, then he passed out.
"Shaken, not stirred," the Fox smirked, brushing her hands and cocking her delicious little shorts-clad tail.
"I'm actually glad you trounced that idiot, honey-child," Powerhouse sneered. "That means there won't be any doubt about who the winner is when I beat you senseless."
Chapter 6
Kodosky, Butz and Jamaal, not having any super powers, prudently ran for cover, taking refuge behind a line of machinery as Powerhouse opened fire with her red eyebeams. The Fuchsia Fox parried her attack exactly with the purplish-pink concussion beam from her bracelet. The two beams met and clashed, casting a brilliant glow over the abandoned warehouse as the two superhumanly powerful beauties struggled, each perfectly matched against the other.
"Yahhhh!" Powerhouse shouted, as her eyebeams snapped off and she charged, her big boobs jiggling against the front of her sexy white leotard. The Fox managed to block her fist with a forearm, returned a quick flurry of punches which the bronze-skinned beauty either parried or dodged, then got nailed in the jaw by a piledriver of a left hook from Powerhouse that made her see stars.
Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs, the lissome brunette retreated a pace or two. "Powerhouse, Demetrius is down," she pleaded. "There's no need for us to fight."
"So sez you!" the other girl snarled, bearing down on her. "I've just been waiting for a good excuse."
As Powerhouse struck again, the Fox caught her wrist and twisted, her tight, shorts-clad buttocks flexing as she brought up her right knee to deliver a body kick. Powerhouse grimaced at the impact, struggled to twist out of the Fox’s hold, and responded with another left punch. The Fox ducked under it and did a cartwheel, hooking her leg around the bronze-skinned girl's neck, flipping her over. As they both scrambled back to their feet, Jenn pivoted with another kick to her opponent's abs.
This time Powerhouse caught the Fox’s flawless leg and spun around, throwing the superheroine’s lean young body against the reinforced brick outer wall of the factory. Momentarily stunned by the impact, Jennifer pushed herself away from the wall just as her opponent slammed into her, strong arms snaking around her alluring waist in a wrestling hold.
The Fox clutched at the copper-haired girl's slender neck and shoulders, struggling to break out of their clinch as her ankle boots scrabbled at the floor to hold her position. Powerhouse only clung to her supple curves more tightly, her arms like boa constrictors against the satiny smooth skin of the heroine's bare midriff as they jockeyed for position. Jennifer squirmed in the intimate contact, feeling the plump round orbs of her adversary's double-D boobs squash against and overwhelm her succulent, but smaller B-cups. Their strength was about evenly matched; try as they might, neither could gain an advantage.
Suddenly Powerhouse changed course, gathering her strength and hoisting the Fox off the floor, rushing forward and slamming her against the brick wall again. The breath went out of the Fox in a gasp.
"You ready to concede?" grunted the super-agent, pinning the Fox against the wall.
"Not... a chance," the brunette defiantly replied, though breathlessly, while wrapping her silken gams around her opponent's delectable waist in a leg scissors as she strained to break her hold.
Abruptly, the Fox triggered her flying powers, thrusting away from the brick wall. Powerhouse toppled backward and together both girls went tumbling across the floor, their spectacular bodies locked sensually together, legs entwined as their hands groped for one another's throats.
Powerhouse came out on top, straddling the Fox, holding her nubile young body pinned to the floor. The brunette girl bucked underneath her, fighting like a wildcat. The Fox was clearly the stronger, and it was only Powerhouse's position of leverage which enabled her to keep the superheroine down.
"Give in, damn you!" Powerhouse snarled, her hands tightening their iron grip around the Fox's swan-like throat. "Why don't you just give in, already?"
The fuchsia-clad heroine couldn't spare a breath to speak. She only shook her head stubbornly left and right, her face frozen in a grimace of concentration as she wriggled beneath her attacker. In spite of her strength, it was becoming evident that Powerhouse was better at fighting than the Fox was, as she held the advantage of her position over the superheroine, but Jenn couldn't give in; too much was riding on this. Every sinuous muscle in her alluring body strained desperately to find a weakness and throw her opponent off before she ran out of air.
At last, though, the Fox's grip began to slacken, her hands moving across the front of the bronze-skinned girl's clingy white leotard, groping aimlessly at her bust as darkness seemed to gather over Jenn’s brain. "No..." the brunette gasped, as her big brown eyes started to glass over, fluttering weakly upward in their sockets. Her slim young body went limp as a doll's, as she lost consciousness, her hands dropping in defeat.
"Whatcha got to say now, sweet meat?" Powerhouse smirked, releasing her grip, savoring her victory. "I don't hear no snarky come-backs now, bitch. Now sit tight, sugar pie." Leaving the unconscious superheroine lying there, she yanked down a length of rusty chain from the defunct machinery. Quickly she bound the Fox's wrists in front of her, wrapping the chain several times.
"Do you want to stand clear of her?" said a wavering male voice. It was Butz, holding that two-foot black cylinder of his.
"Butz?" Powerhouse said, securing the chain. "Where's Kodosky?"
"He and his goons beat feet while you were fighting," the geek said. "I guess they didn't have much faith in your ability to beat the Fox."
"Honey, that's gonna change," the bronze-skinned girl declared, her eyes wandering to the EPD gun in his hands. She grinned and walked over to stand beside him. "Go ahead and zap her … and crank it up to MAXIMUM! This town ain't big enough for two supreme goddesses. With the Fox stripped of her powers permanently, I'll run this place! And you can be my number two man. How does that sound?"
The Fox slowly opened her eyes, dismayed to discover herself trussed up. Gaining her bearings, if she had a few seconds, she could probably break the rusty chains easily enough, but right now, her brown eyes were staring with helpless horror at the black barrel of Butz's gun as he took aim. There was a rushing sound in her ears, her heart pounding with fear within her bosom. A dry lump seemed to have formed in her throat, choking off her air.
Powerhouse was preening herself, brushing dust off the white sleeves of her leotard. "Well, what are you waiting for, white boy?" she asked impatiently.
Butz licked his lips, took a deep breath, and resolutely pulled the trigger. The invisible stream of ions rushed out like a hot wind, engulfing … Powerhouse and making her luscious body tingle all over as it neutralized all her powers.
"What did you do?" the bronze-skinned girl whimpered in shock, feeling all her strength draining out of her.
Butz shrugged, smacking the barrel of the EPD gun hard into the girl's stomach. Powerhouse doubled over and dropped. "Don't worry, it's only at setting four," he said. "You'll have your powers back in an hour or so." Quickly he put down the gun and hurried to the Fuchsia Fox's side.
"Just hang on, this'll take just a second," he said, starting to unwrap the chains from the sexy superheroine's slender arms. Suddenly, though, he contemplatively paused. The geek seemed to gather his courage, leaned down and placed a tender kiss on the Fox's tempting mouth. Bewildered and taken by surprise, Jennifer closed her eyes submissively and accepted the kiss, feeling the warmth and the passion spread through her nubile body like a wave, unexpectedly making her lady parts tingle with desire.
"Irwin?" she breathlessly whispered, once he had pulled away. "What did you do that for?"
"I... I didn't think you would let me after you were free," he said, unable to meet her eyes. Quickly he resumed unwinding the chains from her arms and set her loose.
The beautiful superheroine rose into a sitting position with her silken legs curled underneath her, and then snaked her slender arms around Butz' skinny shoulders, pulling him close to her and looking deeply into his eyes. Making sure that she had his undivided attention, she said, very sincerely, "Thank you, Irwin." Then she pressed her mouth to his, rewarding him with another kiss, this one much deeper and more expert. As her lips parted and her tongue flirted with his, her arms tightened around his neck, pulling Irwin so close that her soft boobs were crushed against his chest.
Catching her own arousal rising precipitously, at last she pulled back, leaving Butz steaming slightly around the ears. "I'm grateful you did the right thing, Irwin. That means a lot to me."
"I'm sorry I had to zap you," he apologized, "but I figured it would only be a few minutes and then you'd nail them."
"I gathered you were trying to clue me in by all that malarkey you were spouting about z-space. But what made you turn on Powerhouse like that?"
Butz sighed gloomily. "I was screwed no matter how you look at it," he said. "Dinsdale came and got me out of prison, pretty much forced me to work for him building a new EPD cannon. And he hired Van Meter to do his dirty work. I didn't want any part of it, Fox. Honest."
"But you trusted ME?" Jennifer asked with surprise.
"Of course I did. You're the Fuchsia Fox! Who wouldn't trust you?"
The heroine smiled. "Dinsdale, eh?" she said shrewdly as she got to her feet. "We'll see about that. I have a friend in the Department of Justice, Isadora Porteous. We're pretty tight. I'll talk to her and see what she can do." Although... come to think of that, she couldn't help cringing a little at the thought of what Dora was going to want in exchange.
"Ha-ha! Gotcha, mama!" gloated a snide male voice. Jamaal was standing there, holding the EPD gun. "Assume the position, babe! Drop yo' drawers and put yo' hands in the air!"
The Fox slowly turned, planting her hands on her seductive waist and glowering at the black man. "Come on, Jamaal, put the gun down like a good boy."
"Ain't no way, bitch," he said, keeping the deadly weapon leveled at her while his free hand found the knob and cranked it all the way to maximum. "I know what this thang can do."
"Better be sure," the stunning super-lady warned, staring him down grimly. "If you miss, your ass is mine. And I promise that I won't be gentle."
For a second Jamaal did look unsure, but then he grinned. "Hasta la vista, baby," he said, and pulled the trigger.
The invisible ionized wave shot forth, surrounding the Fox's alluring body like a shroud, making her skin tingle. As it hit her equally invisible force shield, however, it began to glow, rebounding back to the EPD gun. Jamaal looked alarmed as the gun in his hands let out a high pitched scream and then began to smoke. Two seconds later he had to drop it because it was red hot. "Yeow! Damn!" he shouted, sucking his fingers in pain.
"I told you you'd better be sure," the superheroine smirked, grabbing him by the collar and hoisting him off the floor. Snatching his digital camera away from him with her free hand, she crushed it.
"I tried to tell Dinsdale it wouldn't work, too," Butz said, looking at the slowly melting remains of the gun. "At anything higher than the low setting, whatever gives you your powers must recognize when the EPD gun is trying to subvert its function and sets up a counter-field to turn the disruption effect back on itself. How come nobody listens to us, Fox?"
"I really don't know, Irwin," she said with a sigh. "Maybe they think they're smarter than we are. Perhaps we can talk about it at dinner tonight."
"D-d-d-dinner?" the geek stammered, incredulously.
"My husband happens to be out of town, and I hate eating alone. That is, if you're not busy.", she said with a flirtatious wink.
Epilogue -- A few days later
Isadora Porteous, looking absolutely gorgeous in a smart, wine-red colored suit, emerged from the courthouse and blinked at the glare of the late afternoon sun. Her tailored jacket was open, showing off the white, open-necked blouse underneath, and as she reached up for the sunglasses nestled in her blonde tresses, she impatiently adjusted the leather satchel carrying her papers which hung from her left shoulder. Her hand paused as she caught sight of the Fuchsia Fox, lounging at the top of the steps.
"Wow! Great to see you, Fox!" she gushed. "What are you doing hanging around a place like this?"
"You called me," the superheroine said, her arms folded across her chest.
"Really?" Dora said, cocking her head in mock-forgetfulness. "It's funny, but I have this vague memory of sending you message after message inviting you to our little parties, and not getting any answers. I was beginning to think your phone was broken."
Jennifer's cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry about that, Dora. I haven't... I mean I've been busy a lot, and..." She blushed even more deeply at the lameness of her excuse. "Look, I'll try to come to your next party, okay? I really will try."
"Good! I’ll consider that a promise." Dora said, smiling.
Getting down to business, Dora explained, "Well, you'll be happy to know that Irwin Butz has been transferred to a medium security prison in Kansas for the remainder of his sentence. Dinsdale is facing an inquiry, and he may not be head of the Superhuman Enforcement Division much longer. The bad news is that Demetrius Van Meter escaped while being transported to prison down in Sussex. Rumor has it that he's working as an enforcer for Kodosky now."
"What about Powerhouse? She showed her true colors, attacking me instead of bringing in Demetrius.", the Fox said.
"Still at Homeland Security," the lawyer explained. "In her defense she claims she thought you were in collusion with Van Meter to steal the power harness."
"That's just wonderful," the Fox said sarcastically.
"Sometimes it's all you can do to break even," Dora said philosophically. She slipped her arm into the superheroine's elbow and drew her closer as the two girls started down the steps. "There just happens to be a Club X party this weekend, and guess what? I'm the hostess! Wait until you hear what the theme is going to be! You're going to love it!"
THE END