Betty Barecode

Betty Barcode, a supergirl and super good looking, lived in a small, windowless, apartment block smack in the middle of Creeper City. Being a very attractive twenty two year old female, she worked in the fashion industry as a clothing model. Her job was to show off, upon her person, a set of clothes in Wonder-form Fashion's TV studio and the live recordings of which would instantaneously be transmitted to potential customers world wide. If a customer wanted to purchase one of the items she was displaying they only had to fire the buying zapper at their viewing screens and the desired item of clothing, responding to the barcode transmitter, would disappear from the warehouse storeroom located somewhere on the planet called Transkrango and reappear in the customer's transport device 'in box' and a corresponding charge was instantly deducted from their monetary account.

The modeling money was very good but, for Betty, the only slight down-side was that she was obliged to live in a very dodgy and disreputable part of the city just so she could be near the studio. In this way she was always on-call and available to work at a moments notice. She could be called at any time of the day or night and had to make her way, usually alone, to the TV studio that was only a couple of blocks away.

During these short walks to work she was forever being stalked, and sometimes even ambushed, by a local gang of particularly ugly and lawless goblins who strolled about openly displaying their naked, well endowed male bodies in the streets for all to see. One shuddered at the thought. Their appalling audacity flew in the face of law enforcement agencies who did nothing to curb such unwanted displays and, though these acts were thoroughly disgusting, the goblins acted with impunity. One would not want to be a lone female and be caught by the Goblins without some solid form of self protection as she would surely be subjected to hideous and unmentionable abominations before, without a shadow of a doubt, being finally, gang raped by them...a most unedifying prospect and one that was better not to dwell upon too long upon.

To ward off such attacks and probable invasive outcomes, her employers had given her a stun gun and an invisible protective body shield so she could protect herself when walking to and from work. So far this arrangement had worked perfectly well but, the goblins never seemed to want to give up in their efforts in trying to abduct her but, of course...she was so very pretty and would be quite a prize if only they could get their grubby, gnarled and knobbled little hands on her. Betty had had a few close calls where she had been obliged to use the stun gun on them and, thank goodness, the Goblin's own guns did not work on her because of her shield, even so, on the last encounter, just this morning, one of the Goblins had got close enough to push and fire a tattoo zapper against the right cheek of her bottom before she had chance to turn around and stun him. She noticed that her cheek was a little sore when she arrived at the studio and was surprised that the tattoo device had managed to penetrate her body shield, her underwear and skirt...perhaps, as the thing was regarded as being completely innocuous and, in itself, unthreatening that the device did not warrant being protected against and was not on the body shield makers 'dangerous' list? Still, be that as it may, she could not quite understand the Goblin's motive for administering the tattoo in the first place...except perhaps for just the inherent fun of applying it to her otherwise unattainable body, transgressing her protective shield in this small way.. delivering it in the spirit of a demeaning slap on the bottom. In some petty fashion maybe they had perhaps gleaned some slight but, very pathetic pleasure in successfully compromising her bodily defenses in this small way...and, though it was rather annoying and...a little unnerving, the distasteful occurrence was in itself, completely harmless.

Betty had just changed into the first set of clothing she was to display that day. Unusually, they gave her a complete set of items, from skimpy underwear and a dress, right up to an furred winter overcoat and even a pair of tight, calf length boots. It was almost as if she was to perform a streiptease...well nearly...When she had undressed in readyness to don her selling attire, she gave the tattoo a quick look, examining it for a moment in a mirror. It was so small, more like a black smudge on her pert cheek. She would have to give it a closer inspection with a magnifying device later...but, positioned as it was, in a place where it would not show as it would be out of sight below her underwear, she did not have to apply any make up to hide it as, today, she would not be modeling thongs or any see through items.

As she began her 'live show' Betty was greatly surprised when the warm furry overcoat she was exhibiting, unexpectedly vanished. Stunned, she paused for a moment in her routine of graceful displaying movements. Unable to comprehend what had happened she steadfastly kept her professional demeanor and kept looking directly at the camera, refusing to look about in a quandary at the studio staff who, she could see, out of the corner of her eye, were also somewhat perplexed. She was further shocked when her tight fitting white dress disappeared too. It suddenly dawned on her that she must be wearing the wrong stock...ones from the transportation warehouse and, predicting what was most likely going to happen next, very quickly turned around just at the moment when her white bra was also, she presumed, instantly transported to some customer somewhere on the planet. As a matter of course, she always wore an absolutely miniscule thong, the briefest of thong's one could imagine, as a first layer below her underwear to be perfectly and professionally hygienic and was now more than relieved that she had a pair of them on.

The, predicatbly, the knickers she was wearing, then vanished too, leaving her in only her own, tiny white thong and white leather boots. Standing there, facing away from the cameras, she folded her arms across her chest to hide her breasts but, the pert globes of her bottom cheeks were fully on view to the camera and the millions of watching, potential customers. The camera operator, strangely attracted by the odd, dark, bruise like mark upon her right cheek, zoomed in on it for a close up... a barcode tattoo could be clearly seen. Suddenly, Betty vanished too..!

Betty found herself standing in only her uncomfortably miniscule, very revealing thong and white boots, right in the midst of a multitude of whistling, cat calling, lecherous cooing Goblins. It was, alas, the very same gang of Goblins she had been avoiding and, thankfully, thwarting for some time in recent months. Now, the tables had been turned, she was unarmed and without her body shield and, alas, without most of her clothing, was alone, single and defenseless. A horribly mortified female captive that had been freshly transported within the Goblin's dank and dark basement. Standing proudly and elegantly erect with her hands and arms covering herself as best she could, her nearly naked, pale, lithe and long legged body showed off its elegant, natural perfection of proportions despite her wishing for the opposite. She was a beautiful and lovely jewel shining out amongst her disreputable grubby and ugly captors in the dank, filthy and loathsome cellar.

Betty modestly adjusted the position of her one forearm and hand to maintain the coverage of hernaked breasts with only one limb while allowing her other hand to quickly move lower to cover the tiny white triangle of material that barely concealed the split of her neatly shaved and plucked, prominent pubic mound. Painfully aware of her over exposed body, she desperately yearned to remove it from their view. She teetered and shuffled around in embarrassment at her disturbing, suddun exposure. Making clomping, tapping noises upon her high heeled boots as she tried to turn herself away from the Goblins impertinent, glaring, staring, ogling gaze but, it was a hopeless and pointless task that, due to her slightly unnatural lurching movements merely caused the flesh of her bottom cheeks to shudder slightly but, most provocatively and, most irksomely, to draw even more unwanted attention to the undoubted physical delights of her body. Realizing the inadvertent show she had made of herself she forced herself to remain perfectly still...shivering in the cool air that played over her skin and she could feel the effects of it causing her nipples to harden and press up firmly into the skin of her forearm and palm. You could cut the sexually charged atmosphere with a knife.

Very aware and discomfited at her vulnerability amid such foul, merciless and vengeful creatures as these was all pervading and, despite Betty's stoic efforts to maintain her aloof dignity, she still felt daunted and overawed by the masculine multitude surrounding her and, was in great trepidation and dread at what would most likely befall her.

Thoroughly expecting a fate worse than death, after all, these Goblins had gone to a lot of trouble to ensnare her and weaving their clever plot in barcoding her bottom, and somehow switching the garments must of taken some planning and a good degree of coercion, so she did not expect clemency. Though she cringed inwardly, doing her level best to supress an unaccountable and disturbing sense of excitement that was welling up unbidden from some dark place within her inner core, she averted her gaze from the mighty array of huge gnarled penis's that bobbed laterally about in the cool air and that, most disconcertingly, were pointed right at her. In the awkward, pregnant silence that now prevailed she heard the soft splatter of seminal drool dripping unchecked from the broad holes stamped through the bloated grey/purple, flared glans tips, to drip and fall upon the cold concrete floor. Her stomach lurched at the prospect of her body having to repeatedly entertain and cope with so many hardened and disproportionally huge male organs. Betty mentally prepared herself for the worse.

She could not of predicted or anticipated however, the true depth of the despicable, depraved and degrading designs the Goblins had in store for her...their very special celebrity reward, their trophy bride, their lovely prize, their jackpot joy, someone within whom, at the end of the day, they might finally bury their embarrassingly distended, yearning maleness and where their resultant, illicit seed might find a happy, warm and receptive repose.