Venus & Mars
I don’t know much about photoshop, but I’m not bad at drawing. The only problem is that basic Paint doesn’t have silver, so I had to suggest the shinyness of her costume with shades of gray:
Chapter 1 — It was late, on a quiet weeknight in Gotham City….
“I’m Karen Ross, channel 6 news,” announced the pretty young woman looking complacently into the lens of the minicam, confident that her makeup was perfect, her hair was perfect, and that her silk blouse and short skirt clung to all of her shapely curves perfectly. “I’m here in the World of Science room at the Gotham City Museum, and I’m talking with curator Edgar Hungwell, who has just acquired a crystal meteorite which was found in the Sahara Desert. Dr. Hungwell, what can you tell us about this rare find?”
“Um… It’s baffling, really,” the curator said, tearing his eyes away from the gentle swell of the reporter’s lovely bust and turning towards a glass display case. Inside could be seen a faintly glowing green crystal roughly the size of a man’s fist. “A preliminary examination has revealed low level radiation, which is why we keep it behind this leaded glass. We think it may turn out to be kryptonite.”
“K-kryptonite?” Karen squeaked, taking a hasty step backwards.
“There’s no danger, I assure you,” the man laughed, taking her arm. “Well, not to us Earth people. We can get much nearer than this.”
“N-no thank you, I’m fine just where I am,” the girl quavered weakly, but he put his strong arm around her slim waist and pulled her up close to the display case anyway. The cameraman zoomed in.
The curator launched into a boring monologue about the explosion of the planet Krypton, but Karen wasn’t listening. She knew that it WAS kryptonite, because this close she could feel its intense erotic effect on her body even through the leaded glass, leaving her weak in the knees. Her heart was thumping, her pulses were racing. Hungwell’s hand was resting on her round little butt and causing a blissfully pleasant sensation to spread through her flower. It took every ounce of her willpower not to rub herself against him. Weakly she caught herself wondering if he really was hung well…
“And well, that’s about it, really,” he said, concluding his prepared speech.
Karen bit her lip, forcing her hormonally numbed brain to function. “Um, thank you, Dr…. er…” She sighed wistfully, then looked at the cameraman like a deer caught in the headlights. “This is Karen Ross, reporting from the Gotham City Museum.” The cameraman signaled clear, and Karen nearly stumbled on her high heels in her haste to get a safe distance from the dangerous meteorite.
The cameraman packed up and raced out the door, leaving Karen to recover her composure alone. But not two minutes later, a man came marching into the room dressed like a Roman centurion, helmet, breastplate, and all — followed by six henchmen similarly garbed in tunics and helmets, each carrying an energy blaster rifle in the shape of a spear. “Roman week was last month,” said Dr. Hungwell. “And in any case the museum is closed.”
“That’s okay, doctor,” said the intruder. “I’m not here for the tour.” With a few economical gestures, he posted his thugs in pairs at each of the exits.
“You’re the Centurion!” gasped Karen, eyes wide. “You’re a super-villain!”
“It’s so nice to be recognized,” said the criminal, bowing gallantly in her direction. “For that, you’re free to go, chick. I only came for the meteorite, anyway.” At that moment, metal panels slid into place from the base of the display case, sealing it in.
“I’m sorry,” said the curator smugly. “Those panels are vanadium steel. Once the security system is tripped, it requires an access code. And I refuse to give it up.”
“Not to worry,” said the Centurion calmly. He drew the short sword from his belt and activated a switch on its hilt. A laser beam sprang to life encircling the blade, and he began to saw through the metal as if it were cheese. “This won’t take long.”
Karen ran swiftly out of the room, feeling her confidence return with every step away from the meteorite. But rather than seek to escape, she dashed to the nearest ladies room to change into the sexy costume of her super-powerful alter ego. According to the police dossier she had once seen, the Centurion wasn’t even a second-rate villain, more like third. Apart from his exceptional skill at hand to hand combat and his engineering knowledge, he was just an ordinary man, with impact-absorbing armor and a few high tech weapons. This was going to be so easy!
Excellent story!