In her last year of high school, Bella Cross had watched her father fall into a vat of unknown chemicals as it was struck by a bolt of magical lightning. Miraculously, he'd received only superficial burns, but he'd been pretty bummed about not getting superpowers from the event. That, alongside the normal reasons, of course, was why she hadn't told him when she'd spontaneously developed super speed a month later and started using it to fight crime.
As it would turn out, being able to move so fast that time stood still was an insanely strong power and once she'd sorted out a name and costume, it had only taken the new superheroine Bullet six weeks to run all the gangs out of town and put their leaders in prison. The mayor had formally thanked her, she'd been named Lessertown's official protector, and from that point, the vigilante lifestyle had become... boring. With no gangs left, the crime rate had plummeted and muggings had become so rare that most of her patrol time had been taken up by getting cats out of trees. After a while, she'd put the costume down and just not picked it back up. Even when she'd moved to Grand City for university, the local heroes had everything under control so well that she'd decided just to focus on her courses.
It wasn't until she was researching for a Superhero Studies essay that she even thought about her brief stint in the role. Her assignment was to find a local villain and write about the effect they'd had on the community, so she'd been looking through old newspaper articles when she'd spotted one about a villain called the Lady, and her interest had been piqued. The woman in the picture was blonde, wearing a red dress that looked to be made of latex, red lipstick, a fur coat and a chunky gold ruby necklace resting on her considerable chest. Her face was obscured by an embroidered domino mask, and the article was twenty years old, but as she found more articles with pictures from different angles, Bella grew increasingly certain that the Lady looked very similar to Mrs. Oswald, the widow who lived on the edge of her home town. She couldn't be certain, but... Mrs. Oswald was the right age. Searching for the most recent article, she found that the Lady had broken out of prison sixteen years ago and never been found, and Mrs. Oswald had moved to town when Bella was a child, to get away from the city after her husband passed. The more she looked, the harder it was to ignore how well the pieces fit, and the idea of bringing in a villain who'd escaped justice was definitely appealing.
A smile creeping onto her face, Bella noted down everything she could find on the Lady and decided to visit home that weekend.
The Lady had flown under the radar for the first year of her villain career, considered a minor annoyance who would occasionally hypnotise a jewellery store owner to hand over his entire stock, but never caused enough of a disturbance for a major hero to come after her. That had changed when she hypnotised a hero to act as muscle for her in a turf war and didn't let him go afterwards; Madam Hyperbole herself had flown in to make sure she was locked away, and she hadn't resurfaced after breaking out.
Instead, she'd moved to a small town and gone into hiding until, Bullet thought with a smirk, the local heroine had uncovered her through sheer dumb luck.
Was about to uncover her, she corrected. She still needed to get evidence beyond a resemblance so the courts would take the case seriously. Hence why she was hiding in the hedges surrounding Mrs. Oswald's house, waiting for her to leave. She wasn't worried about being seen from the street; the house was at the end of a long private road. She could probably have a protracted fight here without anyone in town hearing anything, and the grey of her costume blended into shadows pretty well. Grey to match her namesake, with black boots, gloves and mask matching her hair as well as black underwear worn over her tights in the traditional superhero fashion. Putting it on again had reminded her how good the latex felt when it hugged her curves. Maybe she should make this a regular thing again, after she'd dealt with the current situation.
Movement from the house drew her attention, and she watched as the garage door opened and Mrs. Oswald backed her car out. Showtime.
Waiting until the garage door was almost closed, she activated her speed and shot through the narrowing gap, too fast to be seen even if Mrs. Oswald had still been looking that way. Straightening up, she brushed away a leaf that had stuck to the icon on her generous chest: a pair of bullets in the shape of a capital B. Once again, her power made problems trivial, and it was with a smirk on her face that she strode into the house proper. Making her way upstairs, it didn't take long to find the bedroom and start searching the drawers, but a cursory search turned up nothing incriminating. No false bottoms in the drawers, nothing hidden in the wardrobe. She even tried checking under the mattress, but the bedroom was a bust.
Figuring the next best place to store old supervillain paraphernalia would be the attic, she climbed the ladder and her eyes immediately fell on an old chest with a metal padlock. A quick trip to the garage to find a hammer made the problem look an awful lot like a nail and she tucked the broken lock into the waistband of her underwear before lifting the lid.
Two things of differing desirability greeted her. The first was a whiff of stale, dusty air that made her sneeze, the second was a sight that made her grin. A bundle of red latex lay in the chest acting as a cushion for a distinctive black domino mask and ruby necklace. Standing, she planned out how the arrest would go, before her head spun and her knees suddenly refused to hold her up.
It hadn't just been stale air.
Swearing, she tried to crawl back to the ladder, but using her speed was already beyond her and her arms were too heavy to drag her along the floor.
She jerked awake, or tried to. Her hands barely moved before the ropes around her wrists stopped them. Her ankles were similarly bound to the other corners of the bed she was tied down on, feet bare as her boots had been removed, but what made her swear again was the fact that her underwear was missing and her - for some reason fully erect - cock was flopped out onto her belly. Her base suit had a hole in the crotch so she didn't have to take it off to pee, hence the underwear being a separate garment, which meant that her cock was fully out.
A smooth voice spoke from behind her, and she almost missed what it said because of a sudden burst of pleasure in her groin.
"Good to see you again, Bella. Though I must say it was rude to come in when I wasn't home."
Mrs. Oswald walked in front of her, adjusting her fur coat to show off the tight curves that her latex dress did nothing to hide, and Bullet tried to ignore how the sight made her cock quiver. What was happening? Her anxiety over being captured by a villain for the first time warred with confusion; Mrs. Oswald had always been hot, and Bullet had spent plenty of nights thinking about her, but she'd never elicited this strong a reaction. Both gave way to a spike of panic as her words registered properly and Bullet realised her mask was gone.
Fuck.
She forced her face to be blank, though Mrs. Oswald's smirk told her it wasn't convincing, and the way that made her cock jump was probably a giveaway in itself.
She had to stop thinking of her as Mrs. Oswald. She wasn't dealing with the reclusive widow from her childhood, she was dealing with a supervillain.
"Well," she started, falling back on hero banter, "you've been lying to me for a while, haven't you,
Lady
-ah!"
She gasped at the pleasure in her cock as she used the Lady's
nom de guerre
, and the Lady's titter in response only redoubled the sensation. Jesus fuck, what was happening?
"I could say the same of you. How about we both forget all that and consider it a clean slate?"
"Brilliant! If you could just untie me, I'll come back later and we can have a do-over."
