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Ms. Jessica Hansen, a 28 year old raven haired beauty, was finally able to take a brief moment of rest. She was a popular gym teacher at Benjamin Harrison High School but Ms. Hansen was better known to most in her secret crime-fighting alter-ego of Batwoman. Between classes during the day and battling Gotham City's vast array of supervillains at night, Jessica had precious few moments to put her feet up and catch her breath. Now at 11:00 a.m., during her prep period, Ms. Hansen was able to retire to the coaches' office in an empty girl's locker room.
With no one around, Jessica plopped into a cush chair and released her long mane of black hair from the tight bun it was tied in. Able to relax and collect her thoughts, she allowed herself to sink back into her chair and stretch her long legs. As she normally taught aerobics classes, Jessica was clad in a forest green sleeve-less leotard with light green tights underneath. Ms. Hansen was strikingly lovely with a long, lean physique that was made to showcase in spandex and lycra. This obviously made her the object of adolescent desire for the male student population at Benjamin Harrison High, but she maintained a professional, even icy, facade that kept the young men of Harrison High at bay.
The brief respite the quiet locker room gave Jessica a chance to close her eyes and collect her thoughts. Her niece, Christine, an 18-year old senior at Harrison, also spent her nights fighting crime alongside her aunt as Flamebird. While Christine loved the action, she wasn't able to enjoy the active social life her classmates enjoyed. Was she depriving Christine of the simple joys of being a teenager? Wasn't Christine even downplaying her natural good-looks by dressing down at school and refusing to wear make-up? While most of the senior boys would give their left arm to take the sexy spandex-clad crime fighter Flamebird to the prom, the plain Christine rarely warranted a second glance.
These concerns paled, in Jessica's mind, to the dangers she exposed her niece to nightly. Whether it was an umbrella gassing from the Penguin, being entangled in one of the Joker's sticky nets, or being tied to a buzzsaw by the Riddler, Jessica wondered when the odds would finally catch up with the dynamic duo. These thoughts troubled Jessica as she reclined in a comfortable chair. These thoughts were broken by the noise of someone banging on a locker in the isolated locker room.
"Great," Ms. Hansen thought, "someone always has to come in when I finally get a break. I guess I'll have to get my tired bones out of this chair and see what's going on."
Jessica picked herself up and walking into the empty locker room. A room empty, save for a single noise of someone trying to open a gym locker. Ms. Hansen couldn't see who was in there making this noise over the rows of lockers, but she was on her way to help. Following the noise, she found a young woman trying to pry open a locker with little success.
"Can I help you? Ms. Richardson's class is up on the football field and it looks like you're quite late," Jessica offered with a wary eye as she walked up to this young lady.
"Are you Ms. Hansen? I'm new here...my name is Candace. Ms. Richardson just gave me a locker to use and I can't seem to get it open," the young woman replied with both hands still pulling on a closed locker.
The new student, Candace, was young in appearance. She had an angelic face that was framed by long blonde hair. While she had the face of a high school student, the low halter top and tight low-slung blue jeans she wore exposed a curvy 5'10 womanly body that looked a bit mature for high school. Candace looked more like an extra in a Christina Aguilara video than the typical girl roaming these halls.
"I'm glad to meet you, Candace....and welcome to Benjamin Harrison High," Ms. Hansen said as she relaxed her posture a bit, "but we really need to talk about the school dress code..."
"I know, but this is what every teenage girl wears these days...," Candace replied somewhat weakly.
"Not at this school, Candace," Ms. Hansen answered sternly.
Glancing around the empty locker room, Candace darted her eyes and squirmed a bit as if she was anxious to change the subject. Jessica recognized this and thought she might have been a bit hard on this new student. The first day in any new surroundings was difficult, Ms. Hansen rationalized, and everyone deserved a least one break. Jessica changed her stern hands on hips stance to a more relaxed and welcoming posture, placing a hand on the young girl's shoulder.
"Look, I guess we can address that issue tomorrow. Let's see what we can do to get your locker open," Ms. Hansen commented with a smile.
Candace gave Ms. Hansen a relaxed smile and a soft gaze. She gestured to a small 2 ft. by 2 ft. gym locker on the top row. "Its number 271," Candace offered.
Jessica turned and found locker #271. There was a small metal door with no lock that sat just about eye level of the 5'10 gym teacher. Jessica grabbed the latch and lifted it up, feeling no obstruction that would prevent the locker door from being opened.
"It looks like the door to this locker is working fine..." Jessica explained as she began to pull the small locker door open.
Candace took a short step back and turned her head to the side, away from the opening locker door. Ms. Hansen, in her guise as Batwoman, was normally on her guard in any situation. Leaping into an unknown circumstance unguarded with a person she didn't know would have immediately sparked a red flag in her mind. In her daily work as a teacher, Jessica rarily noted such details. She didn't even notice Candace turning away from her as she pulled the locker door open.
Had Ms. Hansen been on guard, she might even have notice the soft hissing sound that came from the darkened locker as the small door was pulled completely open. Being as relaxed as she was, Jessica was hardly prepared for what would follow. The soft hissing sound gave way to a loud "POP" that expelled a shower of green powder directly into Jessica's face. A small balloon filled with knockout powder was rigged inside locker #271 to spray the unsuspecting gym teacher once the door was opened, releasing the pin on the balloon. The mechanics of such a trap had little meaning to Jessica at this time. The shock of the powder shower forced Jessica to take a quick step back and drew her hands to a face now covered with the green sleeping powder. Ms. Hansen's last moments of consciousness consisted of a quick cough, an eye roll back into her head, and weak knees bending under the weight of her drugged curvacous body. Jessica's face, now looking a shade of pale green with the green powder facial, relaxed and looked quite peaceful as her eyelids dropped and she surreneded to sleep. Asleep on her feet, Ms. Hansen collapsed in a spandex pile of shapely limbs on the cold concrete floor of the still isolated girl's locker room.
Candace could only manage a wry smile as the sexy gym teacher fell to her feet. A quick scan of the locker room revealed they were still alone as all the students were still in class. Confident that she was alone, "Candace" tugged slightly at the exposed skin at the base of her neck. With a pinched thumb and forefinger, she pulled a thin, almost transparent film from her neck and pulled this film upward from her neck and up to her face. This seemless mask of a young girl was peeled off as she pulled a blonde wig off her head. The lovely face and shocking red hair underneath revealed that this was no high school girl, it was the notorious Blaze, henchwoman of the man of a million faces, False Face.
"Whew, it was getting tough to breathe under there, " Blaze gasped now that the mask and wig were removed, "That was almost too easy. Looks like our Ms. Hansen needs a break after such a workout...and she can attest to the fact that one of False Face's facials can be sooo relaxing."
Blaze stood confidently giggled over the falled Jessica, still clad in her Britney Spears pre-pregnancy costume. She lifted her wrist to the full supple lips of her mouth and began to talk into what appeared to be her wristwatch.
"Blaze to False Face...Blaze to False...do you read me?"
"Yes, Blaze," the monotone deep voice of the master of disguise replied, "I read you loud and clear."
"False Face, the gym teacher as been secured...do you copy?"
"Outstanding work, Blaze, I knew your disguise and acting ability would fool even the keenest of eyes, even those of Batwoman and Flamebird. Not to mention a healthy dose of my knockout powder."
"She's slumbering as we speak, False Face. I guess after a long workout, she needed to take a powder."
"Excellent...phase one is now in place. Scoop up the lovely Ms. Hansen and bring her around the back of the locker room. The area is clear, for now. The van is parked at the rear exit." False Face could hardly contain his glee as the plan was working to perfection. His first object was a simple gym teacher at Benjamin Harrison High, little did he and his evil companion realize that they had also captured the scourge of Gotham City's criminal community, Batwoman.
Blaze wrapped her arms around the spandex covered waist of the sleeping teacher, grabbed her in a full bear hug, and sling her lifeless body over her shoulder. Jessica, face down and bent over at the waist, slept peacefully with her shapely butt up in the air as she was carried by Blaze out of the locker room into the waiting van.
"I can't say too many gym teachers looked like this at my high school," Blaze thought to herself as she caught a glimpse of Ms. Hansen's rear resting on her shoulder, "at least, not in reform school."
The sleepy teacher was unloaded into the back of the van where a waiting False Face was there to greet his henchwoman and his new prize.
"Lovely than I even could have imagined," False Face remarked matter of factly as he pulled Jessica's prone body onto a long board that resembled a stretcher. Ms. Hansen was laid down gently on her back to the board and False Face and Blaze moved quickly to apply leather straps around her ankles, thighs, waist, chest, and neck. Once the slumbering gym teacher was secured tightly in place, False Face cupped Jessica's beautiful face in his hands and held it firmly.
"Shouldn't we be getting out of here?," Blazed asked calmly, "Can't we do this at a safe distance from the scen of the crime?"
"Why waste time, my precious Blaze?," False Face answered curtly, "Ms. Hansen needs to get back to her classes in a mere 15 minutes. No one saw the abduction and no one will be alarmed by a school district van parked out back here."
False Face had taken the precaution of painting his mobile workshop the same color as the school district vehicles and now set about putting the tools of his evil trade to use. The secured sleeping Jessica had a straw placed in her full resting lips as False Face poured a light coating of a thick pink liquid over her face. Once Ms. Hansen's face was covered in the pink goop, with only the straw allowing her to breathe protruding from the pink mass. False Face worked quickly and gestured to his sexy partner.
"The mold of Ms. Hansen's face is drying quickly." False Face commanded with a rich baritone, "Blaze, grab the green leotard and tights hanging up front with the black wig."
As much as any boy at Benjamin Harrison High would enjoy the show of the sexy Blaze changing out of a halter top and tight jeans into a clinging green leotard and pair of tights, False Face ignored the erotic show and set about removing the mold being pulled from Jessica's face. The mold was as perfect as Jessica's dreamy face and False Face proceded to spray a light coating of latex from an aerosol can into the plastic mold.
Blaze emerged a striking vision in green spandex and lycra as she secured the black wig to her scalp. False Face, with a light touch of a paint brush and a quick peel of the mold, produced a razor-thin mask he now applied to Blaze's face. The results were stunning. Blaze now stood as an exact replica of Jessica Hansen, the raven haired sexpot in skin-tight spandex.
"I'd grab you a mirror, but the shock my overtake you, my lovely Blaze," False Face purred as he admired his handiwork, "You look exactly like our abducted educator, Ms. Hansen- right down to her green tights."
Blaze managed a evil smile under the thin mask that moved with her facial expressions. She shook her lithe aerobized body from side to side with hands on hips to admire her new look.
"Now, to phase two...," Blaze offered seriously.
"Exactly, Ms. Blaze, you get close enough to kidnap the daughter of millionaire industrialist Waymon Goodwright. The lovely Valerie Goodwright has Ms. Hansen's aerobics class at 12:30. Make yourself seen on campus as soon as possible so no one notices Ms. Hansen has gone missing. Just remember your insturctions."
"I helped write those instructions, " Blaze answered in a cocky manner, "and this kidnapping will go off without a hitch as long as you have the van waiting."
"The van will be exactly where we planned at the correct time, Blaze, but your overconfidence concerns me."
"Why is that?"
"Because you forgot your whistle," False Face said has he handed the disguised Blaze a plastic whistle and the neck rope to wear it, "Use only in an emergency."
Blaze managed only a cross look at her boss and snatched the whistle from his hand. She opened the back doors of the van and quickly scanned the area for any curious onlookers. Seeing the area was isolated, Blaze, in the guise of gym teacher Jessica Hansen emerged and closed the van doors. Blaze moved quickly into the locker room. It appeared Ms. Hansen would be ready for her 12:30 class.
Meanwhile, inside the van, False Face was making preparations to contact Waymon Goodwright, completely unaware that the KO'ed gym teacher straped down in his evil workshop was Gotham City's most famed crime-fighter, Batwoman.
TO BE CONTINUED
Batwoman & Flamebird- the case of False Face
As 12:30 approached in the exercise room of Benjamin Harrison High School, a mass of young boys and girls milled about in their exercise clothing as they prepared for their physical education class. All of the boys anxiously awaited the appearance of Ms. Hansen, who cut a striking figure in her leotards and lycra tights. Most of the students' attention was focused on the newest addition to the exercise room, a state-of-the-art treadmill. This treadmill was more than the run of the mill rubber belt running over metal rollers, it had steel bars running up both sides of the belt to grab onto and a detailed control panel that rested at the top of these metal bars. The belt was locked in place to prevent anyone from just jumping on and taking it for a trail run. Gawking students had their attention broken by the entrance of their teacher, the lovely Ms. Hansen.
"Very well, students," Ms. Hansen shouted to the class, "we all can see the new toy the school district bought for us to play with. But there's been a small change in the schedule today..."
Fooling everyone, even the leering boys who didn't take an eye off the sexy gym teacher for a second, was False Face's evil aide, Blaze. She was an exact replica of Jessica Hansen and not one student was the least bit suspicious. Same lovely face. Same long black hair. Same hot body squeezed into a spandex leotard.
"Today, Coach Milhouse is having everyone run the mile up on the track," the faux Ms. Hansen continued, "all students are to reoprt up there A.S.A.P. No aerobics class today."
The students filed out of the exercise room, with padded walls and floor for tumbling and an array of exercise machines donated in the 1970's. Some students grumbled as they walked out while others laughed. The boys didn't have to make fools of themselves as they bent and stretched on command, but they would miss the spandex show Ms. Hansen's sexy body performed each class.
One of the more disappointed students lingered in the back as the class marched out to the track. That student would be the lovely 18 year old senior Valerie Goodwright, daughter of millionaire industrialist Waymon Goodwright. Valerie was one of the most popular students at Benjamin Harrison High. Her position as homecoming queen, head cheerleader, and president of the student council would attest to that. Valerie was a skilled athlete as well, a state qualifier as a cross-country runner. She was also one of the most beautiful students with long strawberry blonde locks and a well-built 5'8 frame of a swimwear model. Valerie was dressed for her aerobics class, wearing a sleeve-less powder blue leotard and navy blue tights underneath. She slowly marched out of the exercise room with the others when Valerie felt a hand grab her shoulder as she passed Ms. Hansen.
"Valerie," Blaze as Ms. Hansen said cooly, "please wait behind the rest of the class...I need to talk with you for a moment."
Valerie froze and shot a surprised glance at her P.E. teacher, not sure what this was all about. She couldn't possibly be in trouble, could she? Ms. Hansen's relaxing smile and kind face put the young blonde beauty at ease.
"Ms. Hansen? What's up? What do you need to talk to me about?"
"As soon as everyone leaves," the disguised Blaze explained, "I have a surprise for you. I really can't share this everyone."
Valerie thought it was an odd request, but she liked and respected Ms. Hansen. Surely, it was some good news to share and it wasn't the first time a teacher had pulled her aside to sing her praises.
The exercise room had been vacated and a swarm of students, save one Valerie Goodwright, made their way to the running track. Once the room was empty, "Ms. Hansen" grabbed Valerie by the arm and led her to the newest piece of equipment in the gym, a brand new treadmill.
"Valerie, we just received the TrackMaster 2000 today. Its the most state-of-the-art treadmill available. From this control panel, you can adjust the speed of the belt, the conditions of the terrain, and it even has a radio so you can listen to music when you train."
Valerie looked upon the treadmill in awe. The control panel looked like something out of the space shuttle. It was even better than the treadmill she trained on at home.
"Why did you need to get me alone to show me this?," Valerie asked as she looked back at her gym teacher.
"Because you're in training for the state finals in cross country and this machine would be ideal for you to train on as you prepare for the state meet," the spandex-clad imposter continued, "We don't want everyone playing around on the new machine before you get a chance to use it. Besides, Harrison High's cross country star should be the first to break the TrackMaster 2000 in anyway."
Valerie enjoyed the special treatment she routinely received and was happy to take Ms. Hansen up on her offer. And using some class time to train might free up some time for fun in the afternoon. She eagerly stepped aboard the new treadmill and offered her thanks.
"This is just great, Ms. Hansen. Its so cool of you to let me use it now while everyone else gets yelled at by Coach Milhouse out there," Valerie replied with a bright gracious smile.
"Think nothing of it," Blaze/Ms. Hansen said as she reached down to unlock the belt on the treadmill, "Now get acquainted with the controls and I'll be back in a moment to check on you."
Blaze walked to the front door of the exercise room as Valerie stepped up onto the treadmill and began to examine the controls. False Face's henchwomen had retreated to lock the gym room door to prevent anyone from wandering in. Blaze also pulled a remote control stashed behind the padded walls by the door. A cruel smile curled under her mask as she set about unveiling the true purpose of the new exercise machine.
Valerie hopped onto the treadmill, grabbing the rails at the sides and planting her feet firmly on the belt. She looked at the various controls before her when Blaze saw the correct moment to strike. The phony teacher depressed a button on the remote control with her thumb as she spied Valerie standing on the new machine. Valerie had no idea her new training device was a trapping device built especially for her.
As Valerie thought as to the setting she might like to start at, metal cuffs emerged from the metal rails she held onto. A metal clasp for her left and right wrists sprang forth and secured her delicate wrists to the rails. Shocked so by this turn of events, Valerie could only open her mouth slightly and attempt a scream for help. In fear, her attempt at a scream came out more like a soft surprised gasp. Valerie squirmed and fought to pull herself free by pulling her legs back. The only problem was that her feet wouldn't budge. Valerie shot a panicked look down to see her feet were planted firmly in place as the belt was treated with glue. With wrists bound to metal rails by metal cuffs and feet glued to the belt of a treadmill, the helpless homecoming queen finally realized the gravity of her situation. Valerie quivered in shock and fear in False Face's trap as Blaze stood by the door enjoying the show. However, Blaze had one trick left for the bound heiress.
Once Valerie was able to catch her breath and able to realize she was being kidnapped at her own high school, she concentrated and attempted to draw in a deep breath. A loud scream was her only hope as the cuffs and glue that bound her were not giving way. Valerie looked squarely at the control panel and heard a loud "POP" come from the speaker of the radio mounted there. The popping sound was followed quickly by the familiar blast of the green sleeping powder that shot forth from the speaker directly into the face of the panting, panicked Valerie Goodwright. In her panic, Valerie inhaled a good amount of the powder that coated her face. Her head snapped back in shock as the KO powder found its target. The violent reaction ended quickly, however, as Valerie managed a strong cough, a deep exhale, and a collapse into forced slumber. A faint flicker of her eyelids followed as her face relaxed and her eyes closed shut. Valerie fell as her body would be allowed in her bounds, she fell to her knees on the belt and her head dropped down as her upper body was still held upright by the arms cuffed to the handrails.
Blaze moved in to study the captured, sleeping heiress and make her report back to False Face via her wrist radio.
"Blaze to False Face...can you read me?"
"Crystal clear. Good news, I presume?," False Face asked hopefully.
"Phase 2 is complete....its goodnight for Goodwright. The trick treadmill worked perfectly," Blaze reported back in glee.
"Outstanding work again, my dear. A day's dirty deeds well done. But has anyone seen you? Can you make off with Ms. Goodwright without being notice?"
"Absolutely. I sent the kids to the other side of campus and I've devised a perfect way for a gym teacher to transport this girl," Blaze replied confidently, "Just have the van out back of this building."
"Already done, Blaze. I'll see you in mere moments and we'll place that first call to Mr. Goodwright about the welfare of his precious daughter."
Blaze moved quickly in her disguise as Ms. Hansen to unlock the cuffs and loosen the glue that secured the sleeping student. A quick turn of a key and a spray of glue thinner released the slumbering prize from the rigged treadmill. Blaze laid the young girl down and wrapped her in a volleyball net found hanging in the exercise room. Once wrapped up, Blaze threw Valerie's limp body over her shoulder to the waiting van.
Meanwhile, a trip from the main office to the library had young Christine Hansen walking past an area near the gymnasium. The sight of her aunt, Ms. Hansen, carrying a rolled-up volleyball net might not have attracted attention, but a shock of strawberry blonde hair could be seen from the net. The net was rolled up, but lumpy. Christine took up a position behind a pillar a touch closer to where her aunt approached a school district van. Upon closer examination, Christine could see the blue spandex and the brief outline of a face and body. Her aunt was carrying someone in that net and depositing this person into a waiting van. She almost cried out to her aunt to see what was going on, but it was quite clear that Jessica was moving in a fashion as to not attract any notice. Christine's mind raced at the possibilities- just who was in that net and why was her aunt, the venerable Batwoman, carrying to a van? Could it be that there night work had followed them to school? Did Jessica capture one of Gotham's famed villains on campus? In the confusion, Christine was only comforted by the fact that her aunt Jessica was all right and seemingly had everything under control. Or did she have everything under control?
The only way for Christine to find out was in her secret crime-fighting alter-ego, Flamebird. The drab plain-jane Christine had her costume stashed in her purse and bolted promptly for a janitor's closet to make the change into Flamebird. The 5'6 blonde with short hair cut into a bob disappeared into the closet, ready to investigate the strange doings concerning her aunt Batwoman at Benjamin Harrison High.
TO BE CONTINUED
"Very well, students," Ms. Hansen shouted to the class, "we all can see the new toy the school district bought for us to play with. But there's been a small change in the schedule today..."
Fooling everyone, even the leering boys who didn't take an eye off the sexy gym teacher for a second, was False Face's evil aide, Blaze. She was an exact replica of Jessica Hansen and not one student was the least bit suspicious. Same lovely face. Same long black hair. Same hot body squeezed into a spandex leotard.
"Today, Coach Milhouse is having everyone run the mile up on the track," the faux Ms. Hansen continued, "all students are to reoprt up there A.S.A.P. No aerobics class today."
The students filed out of the exercise room, with padded walls and floor for tumbling and an array of exercise machines donated in the 1970's. Some students grumbled as they walked out while others laughed. The boys didn't have to make fools of themselves as they bent and stretched on command, but they would miss the spandex show Ms. Hansen's sexy body performed each class.
One of the more disappointed students lingered in the back as the class marched out to the track. That student would be the lovely 18 year old senior Valerie Goodwright, daughter of millionaire industrialist Waymon Goodwright. Valerie was one of the most popular students at Benjamin Harrison High. Her position as homecoming queen, head cheerleader, and president of the student council would attest to that. Valerie was a skilled athlete as well, a state qualifier as a cross-country runner. She was also one of the most beautiful students with long strawberry blonde locks and a well-built 5'8 frame of a swimwear model. Valerie was dressed for her aerobics class, wearing a sleeve-less powder blue leotard and navy blue tights underneath. She slowly marched out of the exercise room with the others when Valerie felt a hand grab her shoulder as she passed Ms. Hansen.
"Valerie," Blaze as Ms. Hansen said cooly, "please wait behind the rest of the class...I need to talk with you for a moment."
Valerie froze and shot a surprised glance at her P.E. teacher, not sure what this was all about. She couldn't possibly be in trouble, could she? Ms. Hansen's relaxing smile and kind face put the young blonde beauty at ease.
"Ms. Hansen? What's up? What do you need to talk to me about?"
"As soon as everyone leaves," the disguised Blaze explained, "I have a surprise for you. I really can't share this everyone."
Valerie thought it was an odd request, but she liked and respected Ms. Hansen. Surely, it was some good news to share and it wasn't the first time a teacher had pulled her aside to sing her praises.
The exercise room had been vacated and a swarm of students, save one Valerie Goodwright, made their way to the running track. Once the room was empty, "Ms. Hansen" grabbed Valerie by the arm and led her to the newest piece of equipment in the gym, a brand new treadmill.
"Valerie, we just received the TrackMaster 2000 today. Its the most state-of-the-art treadmill available. From this control panel, you can adjust the speed of the belt, the conditions of the terrain, and it even has a radio so you can listen to music when you train."
Valerie looked upon the treadmill in awe. The control panel looked like something out of the space shuttle. It was even better than the treadmill she trained on at home.
"Why did you need to get me alone to show me this?," Valerie asked as she looked back at her gym teacher.
"Because you're in training for the state finals in cross country and this machine would be ideal for you to train on as you prepare for the state meet," the spandex-clad imposter continued, "We don't want everyone playing around on the new machine before you get a chance to use it. Besides, Harrison High's cross country star should be the first to break the TrackMaster 2000 in anyway."
Valerie enjoyed the special treatment she routinely received and was happy to take Ms. Hansen up on her offer. And using some class time to train might free up some time for fun in the afternoon. She eagerly stepped aboard the new treadmill and offered her thanks.
"This is just great, Ms. Hansen. Its so cool of you to let me use it now while everyone else gets yelled at by Coach Milhouse out there," Valerie replied with a bright gracious smile.
"Think nothing of it," Blaze/Ms. Hansen said as she reached down to unlock the belt on the treadmill, "Now get acquainted with the controls and I'll be back in a moment to check on you."
Blaze walked to the front door of the exercise room as Valerie stepped up onto the treadmill and began to examine the controls. False Face's henchwomen had retreated to lock the gym room door to prevent anyone from wandering in. Blaze also pulled a remote control stashed behind the padded walls by the door. A cruel smile curled under her mask as she set about unveiling the true purpose of the new exercise machine.
Valerie hopped onto the treadmill, grabbing the rails at the sides and planting her feet firmly on the belt. She looked at the various controls before her when Blaze saw the correct moment to strike. The phony teacher depressed a button on the remote control with her thumb as she spied Valerie standing on the new machine. Valerie had no idea her new training device was a trapping device built especially for her.
As Valerie thought as to the setting she might like to start at, metal cuffs emerged from the metal rails she held onto. A metal clasp for her left and right wrists sprang forth and secured her delicate wrists to the rails. Shocked so by this turn of events, Valerie could only open her mouth slightly and attempt a scream for help. In fear, her attempt at a scream came out more like a soft surprised gasp. Valerie squirmed and fought to pull herself free by pulling her legs back. The only problem was that her feet wouldn't budge. Valerie shot a panicked look down to see her feet were planted firmly in place as the belt was treated with glue. With wrists bound to metal rails by metal cuffs and feet glued to the belt of a treadmill, the helpless homecoming queen finally realized the gravity of her situation. Valerie quivered in shock and fear in False Face's trap as Blaze stood by the door enjoying the show. However, Blaze had one trick left for the bound heiress.
Once Valerie was able to catch her breath and able to realize she was being kidnapped at her own high school, she concentrated and attempted to draw in a deep breath. A loud scream was her only hope as the cuffs and glue that bound her were not giving way. Valerie looked squarely at the control panel and heard a loud "POP" come from the speaker of the radio mounted there. The popping sound was followed quickly by the familiar blast of the green sleeping powder that shot forth from the speaker directly into the face of the panting, panicked Valerie Goodwright. In her panic, Valerie inhaled a good amount of the powder that coated her face. Her head snapped back in shock as the KO powder found its target. The violent reaction ended quickly, however, as Valerie managed a strong cough, a deep exhale, and a collapse into forced slumber. A faint flicker of her eyelids followed as her face relaxed and her eyes closed shut. Valerie fell as her body would be allowed in her bounds, she fell to her knees on the belt and her head dropped down as her upper body was still held upright by the arms cuffed to the handrails.
Blaze moved in to study the captured, sleeping heiress and make her report back to False Face via her wrist radio.
"Blaze to False Face...can you read me?"
"Crystal clear. Good news, I presume?," False Face asked hopefully.
"Phase 2 is complete....its goodnight for Goodwright. The trick treadmill worked perfectly," Blaze reported back in glee.
"Outstanding work again, my dear. A day's dirty deeds well done. But has anyone seen you? Can you make off with Ms. Goodwright without being notice?"
"Absolutely. I sent the kids to the other side of campus and I've devised a perfect way for a gym teacher to transport this girl," Blaze replied confidently, "Just have the van out back of this building."
"Already done, Blaze. I'll see you in mere moments and we'll place that first call to Mr. Goodwright about the welfare of his precious daughter."
Blaze moved quickly in her disguise as Ms. Hansen to unlock the cuffs and loosen the glue that secured the sleeping student. A quick turn of a key and a spray of glue thinner released the slumbering prize from the rigged treadmill. Blaze laid the young girl down and wrapped her in a volleyball net found hanging in the exercise room. Once wrapped up, Blaze threw Valerie's limp body over her shoulder to the waiting van.
Meanwhile, a trip from the main office to the library had young Christine Hansen walking past an area near the gymnasium. The sight of her aunt, Ms. Hansen, carrying a rolled-up volleyball net might not have attracted attention, but a shock of strawberry blonde hair could be seen from the net. The net was rolled up, but lumpy. Christine took up a position behind a pillar a touch closer to where her aunt approached a school district van. Upon closer examination, Christine could see the blue spandex and the brief outline of a face and body. Her aunt was carrying someone in that net and depositing this person into a waiting van. She almost cried out to her aunt to see what was going on, but it was quite clear that Jessica was moving in a fashion as to not attract any notice. Christine's mind raced at the possibilities- just who was in that net and why was her aunt, the venerable Batwoman, carrying to a van? Could it be that there night work had followed them to school? Did Jessica capture one of Gotham's famed villains on campus? In the confusion, Christine was only comforted by the fact that her aunt Jessica was all right and seemingly had everything under control. Or did she have everything under control?
The only way for Christine to find out was in her secret crime-fighting alter-ego, Flamebird. The drab plain-jane Christine had her costume stashed in her purse and bolted promptly for a janitor's closet to make the change into Flamebird. The 5'6 blonde with short hair cut into a bob disappeared into the closet, ready to investigate the strange doings concerning her aunt Batwoman at Benjamin Harrison High.
TO BE CONTINUED
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superpics4les
- Elder Member
- Posts: 493
- Joined: 19 years ago
- Location: Indiana USA
Nice start! I love the fact that you used False Face and Blaze from the 1960's Batman show. I'm looking forward to further updates. :smt023
As Blaze, disguised as gym teacher Jessica Hansen, delivered the net wrapped heiress Valerie Goodwright into the waiting arms of False Face, Christine Hansen sped to an empty janitor's closet. If she was going to investigate these strange goings on, she would do so in her costumed crime-fighting alter-ego of Flamebird. Christine scanned the halls for any wayward students, then entered the closet for a quick change from drab senior to dazzling superheroine.
The girl that entered the closet could easily been described as plain and even a bit frumpy. The girl that would emerge from the closet was anything but plain, the spandex teen sensation Flamebird. Gone were the baggy t-shirt and jeans. Gone were the thick glasses. Christine exited the closet in a red sleeved leotard with shiny tan pantyhose underneath. Bright yellow gloves were pulled up almost to the elbow. A yellow utility belt with numerous pouches was attached snuggly to her small waist. Yellow boots that reached halfway up her shapely ankles and a short white cape trimmed in red that hung just below her belt almost completed the transformation from so-so to super. A yellow "Robin" type eye mask was fitted to her face. Average Christine was now the avenging Flamebird.
Flamebird had no super powers. Extensive physical training sessions with her aunt had honed her considerable athletic abilities and an array of crime-fighting gadgets in her utility belt were the weapons Christine used in her battle against Gotham's numerous ne'er-do-wells. Usually Christine's transformation into Flamebird meant a call to action, however this mission was much more in the field of finding information. Finding information, at least for the moment. Why was her aunt carrying away what appeared to be a young woman wrapped in a volleyball net? Why was Jessica still in her civilian guise while doing this? Why was this net-wrapped package being delivered to a school district van parking behind the school's exercise room? Did Aunt Jessica (a/k/a Batwoman) need the assistance of her teen partner? These questions raced through Flamebird's mind as she rushed to the area where she first noticed Jessica approaching the van.
The van was still parked in an area close to the school's exercise room, but there was no sign of Aunt Jessica or a bundled young woman. Flamebird began her search by slowly tip-toeing around the van and keeping her head on a swivel for any sign of trouble.
"Ms. Hansen...Ms. Hansen..," Flamebird whispered, ever mindful of the fact that she couldn't refer to Jessica as her aunt in her Flamebird costume.
Flamebird gently probed the area, searching for Jessica, when she attracted the notice of the occupants of the van, False Face and Blaze. There were no windows on the sides or the back entrance of the van and the prying eyes of Flamebird could detect nothing from the tinted windows in the front. Blaze, still looking every bit the sexy gym teacher, spied the presence of the teen superheroine first.
"False Face, honey," Blaze said seriously, "it looks like we have company."
"Well, it looks like 'Ms. Hansen' should go out there and tell them everything is O.K.," False Face replied curtly as he kept his attention on further securing the net around the sleeping Valerie Goodwright.
"No, we've got company in the person of Batwoman's teen sidekick, Flamebird," Blaze retorted in a worried voice.
False Face shot a look toward the front window of the van to see the spandex-clad superteen snooping around the area. His mood went from gleeful to gloomy in that split second.
"How is it possible that the dynamic duo could have figured this out so fast?," False Face exclaimed, "If Flamebird is out there, Batwoman cannot be far behind."
Batwoman wasn't far behind as it turned out, she was still sleeping off a dose of False Face's knockout powder while strapped to a stretcher. The vile villains had no idea the only obstacle to their escape was one 18 year old girl in clinging red spandex. While False Face's mind raced in panic, it was Blaze that kept a cool head and offered a sensible suggestion.
"It appears Flamebird is alone, for now," Blaze offered, "and perhaps that's the break we need."
"Just what are you thinking, my sweet?"
"Well, while disguised as mild-mannered gym teacher, Jessica Hansen," Blaze continued, "the element of surprise is on my side in a confrontation with the junior half of the dynamic duo. If Batwoman decides to drop by, I'm sure you have a trick or two in this mobile workshop to deal with her. She couldn't possibly know it is the great criminal mastermind False Face hiding behind the doors of this van."
"Tis true, beautiful Blaze," False Face responed hopefully, "I do believe 'Ms. Hansen' should talk with the truant teen and I'll prepare for the arrival of Batwoman. Perhaps a full body mold is in order for Batwoman, courtesy of my quick-drying plaster gun."
"Hmmm...how delightful a plan, False Face," Blaze purred, "if you think Mr. Goodwright will pay a king's ransom for his daughter, how much will the city fathers of Gotham pay to get their precious dynamic duo back safe and sound?"
"The figure boggles the mind, my pretty genuis, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. 'Ms. Hansen' needs to address this Flamebird issue and I'll be ready for any surprise appearance of Batwoman. The plaster gun might attract undo attention. Do you still have the whistle I gave you?"
"Now what gym teacher would walk these halls without her trusty whistle?," Blaze giggled as she delicately held up the whistle hung around her neck.
As Flamebird slowly snuck around the area, under the watchful eye of False Face and Blaze inside the van, Blaze waited for the right moment to open the back doors and exit the van. Flamebird, still moving cautiosly in search of Jessica, diverted her attention to the exercise room. Still unsure of the situation, Flamebird resisted the temptation to try to open any of the van doors, prefering to get any news from Jessica first. Once Flamebird moved away from the van, Blaze climbed out as Ms. Hansen to deal with Gotham's Girl Wonder.
"Excuse me, miss, can I help you with something?," Blaze asked sternly in her best authoritative voice.
Flamebird shot a quick look back and did an athletic spin to face the voice that called out to her. She rushed forward in the excitement of finally locating her aunt and crime-fighting partner. The formal manner in which her aunt addressed her did not surprise her for it was far too risky to converse as friends in public while juggling alter-egos.
"Ms. Hansen, I was looking for you," Flamebird offered excitedly, "I happened by earlier and was wondering if there was anything wrong."
"Now why would you think anything was wrong?," Blaze asked with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed, striking a defiant pose in green spandex.
Flamebird was even more puzzled than before. The fact that her Aunt Jessica didn't seem to recognize her was a concern. This odd behavior only made the whole scenario more bizarre. What reason could she have by acting this way? Perhaps there was a reason for such behavior. Jessica/Batwoman always had a reason for conducting herself as she did. Perhaps they were being watched, even though they appeared to be alone. This thought comforted Flamebird a bit and she figured she'd better be on her toes for any cue Jessica might give her.
"Well, Ms. Hansen, I did notice you carrying something out to the van parked over there," Flamebird commented cautiously as not to offer too much information.
"Young lady, that was none of your concern," Blaze offered calmly and sternly with arms still crossed across her chest, "now I might ask why I'd find someone out of class without a hall pass?"
The strange response and the lack of recognation in Ms. Hansen's manner signaled that all was not right at Benjamin Harrison High. A confounded and concerned Flamebird could only stand in stunned silence before stammering a confused question.
"Wh..What are you talking about, Ms. Hansen?"
"Out of class without a hall pass, eh?," Blaze asked with a cocky demeanor as she uncrossed her arms and grabbed the whistle around her neck with her thumb and forefinger, "I think I'll need to keep you after school."
Blaze's cryptic remark should have alarmed Flamebird, but the confused teen superheroine was too busy trying to make sense of the situation to notice the danger. Blaze drew the whistle up to her lips and inhaled a deep breath, her eyes fully open in evil excitement. Flamebird could only manage a quizzical look as she stood a mere 12 inches from the villainess posing as her aunt. Blaze thrush her neck forward at the teen heroine as she exhaled a strong blast of air into her whistle. Instead of the expected ear-splitting screech, the whistle expelled a blast of False Face's green knockout powder. The powder shower scored a direct hit across the yellow eye mask and nose of the dumbfounded superheroine. The confused look Flamebird wore was quickly replaced by one of complete surprise as the spandex super teen instinctly closed her eyes and mouth. The sleeping powder did its dastardly work as Flamebird's surprise forced a quick gasp and inhale, causing the KO dust to drift into her nose and mouth. A mere split-second later, Flamebird's face was one of complete relaxation as her eyelids slowly drooped shut in a powdery daze. The complete relaxation hit her entire body as Flamebird fell to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. The young teen Girl Wonder had been felled, sleeping peacefully in sexy spandex.
Blaze giggled and slowly pulled the rigged whistle from her lips. She had greatly enjoyed the gassing of an arch-nemesis. Realizing she was still on school grounds, Blaze moved quickly to secure Flamebird's wrists and ankles with trusty unbreakable epoxy plastic cuffs for the van ride off campus. False Face jumped quickly fron the van to give her a hand with the slumbering Girl Wonder, scanning for any onlookers, especially one in yellow spandex, Batwoman.
"Masterfully done, Blaze," False Face said excitedly as he quickly scooped up the tan nylon clad legs of Flamebird, "Any sign of Batwoman?"
"None, so far," Blaze answered as she grabbed the teen heroine under her arms, "but if Flamebird's here, Batwoman is sure to follow."
The villainous duo craddled the wrist and ankle bound Flamebird and hurriedly carted her back to False Face's mobile workshop. The doors were slammed shut before anyone could spy their evil activities and the sleeping teen superheroine was set down on the floor of the van, joining Jessica and Valerie in forced dreamland. The three ladies would be sleeping off the green dream dust for quite some time.
False Face and Blaze scurried from the back of the van to the front seats and False Face fired up the engine for a hasty exit. A wasted moment could mean the arrival of snooping students or a snooping superheroine, like Batwoman. Little did they know that Batwoman would be the least of their worries at this time as they sped off campus into the surrounding neighborhood.
"Truly a day's evil work well done," False Face said smiling, "We come for a gym teacher and an heiress and end up with both and Flamebird as a bonus."
"We can lose the teacher," Blaze commented cooly as she slowly pulled the thin mask of Jessica Hansen off her face, "She has served her purpose."
"Oh, I think she makes a fetching prize, even if she won't command the ransom of the two teens," False Face offered joyfully, "Besides, she can always be useful as a decoy or a hostage."
"As long as that's all....False Face," an annoyed Blaze responded in a jealous tone, "Just remember, Batwoman will be hot on our trail now that we nabbed her partner..."
"That's exactly what I'm hoping for, dear Blaze. Once she steps foot in the abandoned costume shop we've been hiding out in, we'll have a Bat-Trap waiting...."
"Hmmm...False Face, I love when you talk like that," Blaze cooed, now fully free of the black wig and mask that cloaked her identity, "and the perfect bait for a Bat-Trap is a kidnapped heiress and a spandex-clad sidekick."
False Face and Blaze shared a full laugh as they sped back to their lair in downtown Gotham City, the abandoned Throne's House of Costumes. They had no idea Batwoman was closer than they expected.
TO BE CONTINUED...
The girl that entered the closet could easily been described as plain and even a bit frumpy. The girl that would emerge from the closet was anything but plain, the spandex teen sensation Flamebird. Gone were the baggy t-shirt and jeans. Gone were the thick glasses. Christine exited the closet in a red sleeved leotard with shiny tan pantyhose underneath. Bright yellow gloves were pulled up almost to the elbow. A yellow utility belt with numerous pouches was attached snuggly to her small waist. Yellow boots that reached halfway up her shapely ankles and a short white cape trimmed in red that hung just below her belt almost completed the transformation from so-so to super. A yellow "Robin" type eye mask was fitted to her face. Average Christine was now the avenging Flamebird.
Flamebird had no super powers. Extensive physical training sessions with her aunt had honed her considerable athletic abilities and an array of crime-fighting gadgets in her utility belt were the weapons Christine used in her battle against Gotham's numerous ne'er-do-wells. Usually Christine's transformation into Flamebird meant a call to action, however this mission was much more in the field of finding information. Finding information, at least for the moment. Why was her aunt carrying away what appeared to be a young woman wrapped in a volleyball net? Why was Jessica still in her civilian guise while doing this? Why was this net-wrapped package being delivered to a school district van parking behind the school's exercise room? Did Aunt Jessica (a/k/a Batwoman) need the assistance of her teen partner? These questions raced through Flamebird's mind as she rushed to the area where she first noticed Jessica approaching the van.
The van was still parked in an area close to the school's exercise room, but there was no sign of Aunt Jessica or a bundled young woman. Flamebird began her search by slowly tip-toeing around the van and keeping her head on a swivel for any sign of trouble.
"Ms. Hansen...Ms. Hansen..," Flamebird whispered, ever mindful of the fact that she couldn't refer to Jessica as her aunt in her Flamebird costume.
Flamebird gently probed the area, searching for Jessica, when she attracted the notice of the occupants of the van, False Face and Blaze. There were no windows on the sides or the back entrance of the van and the prying eyes of Flamebird could detect nothing from the tinted windows in the front. Blaze, still looking every bit the sexy gym teacher, spied the presence of the teen superheroine first.
"False Face, honey," Blaze said seriously, "it looks like we have company."
"Well, it looks like 'Ms. Hansen' should go out there and tell them everything is O.K.," False Face replied curtly as he kept his attention on further securing the net around the sleeping Valerie Goodwright.
"No, we've got company in the person of Batwoman's teen sidekick, Flamebird," Blaze retorted in a worried voice.
False Face shot a look toward the front window of the van to see the spandex-clad superteen snooping around the area. His mood went from gleeful to gloomy in that split second.
"How is it possible that the dynamic duo could have figured this out so fast?," False Face exclaimed, "If Flamebird is out there, Batwoman cannot be far behind."
Batwoman wasn't far behind as it turned out, she was still sleeping off a dose of False Face's knockout powder while strapped to a stretcher. The vile villains had no idea the only obstacle to their escape was one 18 year old girl in clinging red spandex. While False Face's mind raced in panic, it was Blaze that kept a cool head and offered a sensible suggestion.
"It appears Flamebird is alone, for now," Blaze offered, "and perhaps that's the break we need."
"Just what are you thinking, my sweet?"
"Well, while disguised as mild-mannered gym teacher, Jessica Hansen," Blaze continued, "the element of surprise is on my side in a confrontation with the junior half of the dynamic duo. If Batwoman decides to drop by, I'm sure you have a trick or two in this mobile workshop to deal with her. She couldn't possibly know it is the great criminal mastermind False Face hiding behind the doors of this van."
"Tis true, beautiful Blaze," False Face responed hopefully, "I do believe 'Ms. Hansen' should talk with the truant teen and I'll prepare for the arrival of Batwoman. Perhaps a full body mold is in order for Batwoman, courtesy of my quick-drying plaster gun."
"Hmmm...how delightful a plan, False Face," Blaze purred, "if you think Mr. Goodwright will pay a king's ransom for his daughter, how much will the city fathers of Gotham pay to get their precious dynamic duo back safe and sound?"
"The figure boggles the mind, my pretty genuis, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. 'Ms. Hansen' needs to address this Flamebird issue and I'll be ready for any surprise appearance of Batwoman. The plaster gun might attract undo attention. Do you still have the whistle I gave you?"
"Now what gym teacher would walk these halls without her trusty whistle?," Blaze giggled as she delicately held up the whistle hung around her neck.
As Flamebird slowly snuck around the area, under the watchful eye of False Face and Blaze inside the van, Blaze waited for the right moment to open the back doors and exit the van. Flamebird, still moving cautiosly in search of Jessica, diverted her attention to the exercise room. Still unsure of the situation, Flamebird resisted the temptation to try to open any of the van doors, prefering to get any news from Jessica first. Once Flamebird moved away from the van, Blaze climbed out as Ms. Hansen to deal with Gotham's Girl Wonder.
"Excuse me, miss, can I help you with something?," Blaze asked sternly in her best authoritative voice.
Flamebird shot a quick look back and did an athletic spin to face the voice that called out to her. She rushed forward in the excitement of finally locating her aunt and crime-fighting partner. The formal manner in which her aunt addressed her did not surprise her for it was far too risky to converse as friends in public while juggling alter-egos.
"Ms. Hansen, I was looking for you," Flamebird offered excitedly, "I happened by earlier and was wondering if there was anything wrong."
"Now why would you think anything was wrong?," Blaze asked with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed, striking a defiant pose in green spandex.
Flamebird was even more puzzled than before. The fact that her Aunt Jessica didn't seem to recognize her was a concern. This odd behavior only made the whole scenario more bizarre. What reason could she have by acting this way? Perhaps there was a reason for such behavior. Jessica/Batwoman always had a reason for conducting herself as she did. Perhaps they were being watched, even though they appeared to be alone. This thought comforted Flamebird a bit and she figured she'd better be on her toes for any cue Jessica might give her.
"Well, Ms. Hansen, I did notice you carrying something out to the van parked over there," Flamebird commented cautiously as not to offer too much information.
"Young lady, that was none of your concern," Blaze offered calmly and sternly with arms still crossed across her chest, "now I might ask why I'd find someone out of class without a hall pass?"
The strange response and the lack of recognation in Ms. Hansen's manner signaled that all was not right at Benjamin Harrison High. A confounded and concerned Flamebird could only stand in stunned silence before stammering a confused question.
"Wh..What are you talking about, Ms. Hansen?"
"Out of class without a hall pass, eh?," Blaze asked with a cocky demeanor as she uncrossed her arms and grabbed the whistle around her neck with her thumb and forefinger, "I think I'll need to keep you after school."
Blaze's cryptic remark should have alarmed Flamebird, but the confused teen superheroine was too busy trying to make sense of the situation to notice the danger. Blaze drew the whistle up to her lips and inhaled a deep breath, her eyes fully open in evil excitement. Flamebird could only manage a quizzical look as she stood a mere 12 inches from the villainess posing as her aunt. Blaze thrush her neck forward at the teen heroine as she exhaled a strong blast of air into her whistle. Instead of the expected ear-splitting screech, the whistle expelled a blast of False Face's green knockout powder. The powder shower scored a direct hit across the yellow eye mask and nose of the dumbfounded superheroine. The confused look Flamebird wore was quickly replaced by one of complete surprise as the spandex super teen instinctly closed her eyes and mouth. The sleeping powder did its dastardly work as Flamebird's surprise forced a quick gasp and inhale, causing the KO dust to drift into her nose and mouth. A mere split-second later, Flamebird's face was one of complete relaxation as her eyelids slowly drooped shut in a powdery daze. The complete relaxation hit her entire body as Flamebird fell to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. The young teen Girl Wonder had been felled, sleeping peacefully in sexy spandex.
Blaze giggled and slowly pulled the rigged whistle from her lips. She had greatly enjoyed the gassing of an arch-nemesis. Realizing she was still on school grounds, Blaze moved quickly to secure Flamebird's wrists and ankles with trusty unbreakable epoxy plastic cuffs for the van ride off campus. False Face jumped quickly fron the van to give her a hand with the slumbering Girl Wonder, scanning for any onlookers, especially one in yellow spandex, Batwoman.
"Masterfully done, Blaze," False Face said excitedly as he quickly scooped up the tan nylon clad legs of Flamebird, "Any sign of Batwoman?"
"None, so far," Blaze answered as she grabbed the teen heroine under her arms, "but if Flamebird's here, Batwoman is sure to follow."
The villainous duo craddled the wrist and ankle bound Flamebird and hurriedly carted her back to False Face's mobile workshop. The doors were slammed shut before anyone could spy their evil activities and the sleeping teen superheroine was set down on the floor of the van, joining Jessica and Valerie in forced dreamland. The three ladies would be sleeping off the green dream dust for quite some time.
False Face and Blaze scurried from the back of the van to the front seats and False Face fired up the engine for a hasty exit. A wasted moment could mean the arrival of snooping students or a snooping superheroine, like Batwoman. Little did they know that Batwoman would be the least of their worries at this time as they sped off campus into the surrounding neighborhood.
"Truly a day's evil work well done," False Face said smiling, "We come for a gym teacher and an heiress and end up with both and Flamebird as a bonus."
"We can lose the teacher," Blaze commented cooly as she slowly pulled the thin mask of Jessica Hansen off her face, "She has served her purpose."
"Oh, I think she makes a fetching prize, even if she won't command the ransom of the two teens," False Face offered joyfully, "Besides, she can always be useful as a decoy or a hostage."
"As long as that's all....False Face," an annoyed Blaze responded in a jealous tone, "Just remember, Batwoman will be hot on our trail now that we nabbed her partner..."
"That's exactly what I'm hoping for, dear Blaze. Once she steps foot in the abandoned costume shop we've been hiding out in, we'll have a Bat-Trap waiting...."
"Hmmm...False Face, I love when you talk like that," Blaze cooed, now fully free of the black wig and mask that cloaked her identity, "and the perfect bait for a Bat-Trap is a kidnapped heiress and a spandex-clad sidekick."
False Face and Blaze shared a full laugh as they sped back to their lair in downtown Gotham City, the abandoned Throne's House of Costumes. They had no idea Batwoman was closer than they expected.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Jessica Hansen awoke slowly from the sleeping powder that subdued her in the girl's locker room. Still weak and barely able to open her eyes, Jessica tried to survey her surroundings. She noticed she was still in her green leotard and tights and that she was seated on what felt like a wooden floor. A hazy scan of the room revealed that Jessica was in a storeroom of some sort. The lighting in the room was dim, with only small slivers of sunlight that shone from an unseen window. The lack of lighting and the effects of the knockout powder made it difficult for Jessica to assess where she was and what was going on. She could feel her arms were pulled behind her, wrists tied with some type of rope around a pillar in this storeroom. Jessica sat upright against this pillar with her long legs, bound at the ankles, stretched out on the wooden floor. She did not know where she was or who kidnapped her. All she knew was that she was in big trouble. In her guise as Batwoman, numerous villains had attempted to capture and bind her. Why would someone kidnap a mild-mannered gym teacher?
Through sleepy eyes, Jessica tried to piece together some clues as to why Ms. Hansen was the target of a nerfarious kidnapper. What she saw was more troubling than she could have imagined and led to many more questions than answers. Twenty feet from where Jessica sat bound to a pillar were two large iron birdcages. These cages with shiny brass bars were about five feet tall and three feet wide. Inside the cages were the sleeping figures of two young spandex-clad women Jessica recognized immediately. In the cage closest to her, she could see the strawberry blonde hair, the sweet angelic face, and the powder blue exercise leotard belonging to Valerie Goodwright. Valerie was curled up in peaceful slumber on the floor of her brass prison. In the cage next to Valerie's, the short blonde hair and the yellow eye mask of her niece and crime-fighting partner, Christine a/k/a Flamebird, came into view. Flamebird was propped up slightly against the bars of her cage, sleeping off the same knockout powder attack that fell Jessica. Even though Jessica's view of her niece was partially obscured by Valerie and her cage, she could see Christine was decked out her signature red spandex costume she wore to fight crime as the teen sensation Flamebird.
Jessica's mind, still dazed from the drugging she received, raced that the possibilities. Who was responsible for kidnapping not only her, but her niece and one of her students? Why was Christine in her Flamebird costume? Could a villain have discovered Jessica Hansen's secret that she was indeed the world renowed crime fighter Batwoman? Jessica's brain was too hazy from the lingering effects of the sleeping powder and too confused by the shocking sight of Flamebird and Valerie Goodwright held captive in cages to make any sense of what was truly going on. She was in no condition to break free from her bonds and the wonderful tools in the utility belt she wore as Batwoman were nowhere to be found. The only thing Jessica could do was fumble with her fingers to reach an emergency beckon hidden in the bracelet she wore. The emergency beckon would send a distress signal out to another of Gotham City's superheroines and signal her whereabouts. The distress signal was activated as Jessica positioned her hands carefully behind her back, a distress signal that would go out to the beautiful and mysterious heroine known as Dream Angel. Jessica did not know the real identity of Dream Angel, all Jessica knew was that Dream Angel may be her only hope.
The Wharf area of Gotham City was populated with a variety of restaurants and shops that attracted a good portion of tourist traffic. One of the most popular restaurants was Boomer's, a burger and hot wing joint more famous for it's sexy waitresses than it's greasy comfort food. One of these sexy waitresses was finishing her afternoon shift and making her way to the parking lot for her break. Still clad in the well-known Boomer's Girls costume of a tight white tank top, bright orange clinging dolphin shorts, and tan pantyhose, Tiffany Nicole noticed a small flashing light on the thin silver bracelet she wore. The signal, Tiffany knew, was from Batwoman and the signal was going out to Tiffany's crime-fighting alter-ego of Dream Angel. Tiffany knew well of the legend of Batwoman and had even worked with her and her teen partner, Flamebird, on a couple of occassions as Dream Angel, but she was as in the dark as the rest of Gotham City as to the real identity of the famed heroine.
Tiffany Nicole was a lovely 23 year old aspiring model and actress. She had long honey blonde hair and the beautiful girl-next-door looks of a Playboy centerfold. While she wasn't exceptionally tall, standing only 5'5, Tiffany had a sexy voluptuous hourglass figure. Her large breasts and shapely behind stood out even more in contrast with her small waist. Despite her striking beauty and sexy form, Tiffany's career as a model and actress was not going as well as she hoped. While she appeared in the annual Boomer's Girls calendar and had appeared in some print ads for the restaurant, the career Tiffany had envisioned for herself never developed. The true attention from the public she craved more than anything else came from her crime-fighting exploits as the sexy Dream Angel. While Dream Angel's images and deeds were splashed all over the newspapers and television, Tiffany Nicole still operated as a relative unknown. Tiffany felt her crime-fighting alter-ego was both a curse and a blessing. A blessing in that Dream Angel was as popular and well-known as even Batwoman. A curse in that the true identity of Dream Angel could never be revealed to her fawning public. There were times when it took all the restraint Dream Angel could muster to keep from removing her mask and showing Gotham City that Dream Angel was really Tiffany Nicole.
As Tiffany made her way across the parking lot in her Boomer's Girl costume, she wondered what type of peril Batwoman was facing. As Gotham's most capable superheroine, Batwoman rarely found herself in a situation she couldn't get herself out of. Just what type of danger might Dream Angel be flying into if Batwoman can't handle it, Tiffany wondered to herself as she approached her modest late model Toyota Corolla. Her next shift of serving pictures of beer and spicy chicken wings would have to wait as Tiffany sped to her apartment to change into the flying dare-doll known as Dream Angel.
Tiffany rushed up the steps of her downtown apartment and made her way quickly to a spacious walk-in closet in her bedroom. She peeled off her tight tank top and slid out of her orange shorts and pantyhose. Tiffany reached for a bright white nylon body stocking and squeezed each luscious curve of her now naked body into the clinging nylon. Clad from her neck to toes in white nylon, Tiffany slipped pearl white gloves halfway up her elbows and slipped into a pair of pearl white go-go boots that rose to her knees. She then grabbed the hangar that held the true source of her power, a shimmering white sleeveless spandex leotard with large feathery wings attached to the back. Tiffany climbed carefully into the leotard and pulled the shoulder straps slowly over her nylon-clad body. Her large wings, which could be spread out to six feet in length, were secured by light titanium wires sewn into the leotard and the base of the wings were centered at the top of her back. Thick synthetic feathers were attacted to titanium wires that were shaped to constitute the frame of her "wings." Sensors inside her gloves allowed her to operate the mechanicm that moved the wings and allowed Dream Angel to fly. The final touches of Dream Angel's costume were applied as Tiffany secured a white eye mask to her face and buckled a white belt around her waist. A simple (yet sexy) Boomer's Girl completed her transformation the spandex-clad winged avenging angel of justice, Dream Angel.
Departing her apartment in costume could be a dicey proposition for a superheroine trying to protect her secret identity. Dream Angel grabbed a large oversized brown overcoat to hide her spandex and nylon costume and her large white wings. A matching brown hat with a brim large enough to be pulled down over her masked face was also secured as Dream Angel left her apartment to locate a vacant space to fly off in full costume.
As Tiffany walked to the back of her building in her oversized disguise, she couldn't help but wonder what adventure she may be flying into. The bracelet on her wrist would act as a homing device to help her easily locate the superheroine in distress, but what might Dream Angel find once she gets there? A wave of fear caused her to hestitate ever so slightly. While the superheroine in white was a well-conditioned athlete, Dream Angel's only real power was the ability to fly. If the ever capable Batwoman and her partner Flamebird were in over their heads, what chance did the relatively new heroine have in a similiar situation? And Dream Angel had absolutely no idea as to the situation or the villain involved. As Dream Angel would often do in times of stress and peril, she thought back to the person that made her career as a superheroine possible.
Tiffany's grandmother, Betty Nicole, was the famed World War II superheroine of Gotham City, the Avenging Angel. In a white leotard with mechanical wings, a masked Betty fought the criminals and war sabatours that prayed upon Gotham City. Known for her feats of daring and a risque, tight revealing costume, Betty, in her guise as Avenging Angel, captivated the war-weary citizens of Gotham. Betty's eccentric uncle Harold was a amateur inventor that tinkered with creating a flying suit with mechanical wings that would allow a human to fly as freely as a bird. Harold created the suit for his niece, the brunette Betty, a champion 19 year old gymnast. What Betty didn't know was that her 'crazy' Uncle Harold was secretly working for the U.S. Government, gaining access to the latest military technology of the mid-1940's to develop weapons in the privacy of his basement.
While Betty had long since retired as an active superheroine, she did want to pass on her legacy of superpowered public service to a granddaughter who was a bit too selfish and vain for her own good. The elderly Betty presented Tiffany, who seemed to spend all her time working on her hair, face, and body, with the white winged leotard and gave the young woman a tutorial on how to use it to fly. While Tiffany could be somewhat self-absorbed with her looks and career, she did possess a good, kind heart. Betty appealled to Tiffany's better nature and stressed how these new found powers could be used to fight the numerous villains that plagued Gotham City. Tiffany deeply loved her grandmother and greatly feared disappointing her. Betty's loving advice and commitment to the common good inspired Tiffany to carry on her legacy as the superheroine Dream Angel.
The fear that washed over Dream Angel quickly disappeared as Tiffany thought of the words and deeds of her brave grandmother. The Avenging Angel would never allow fear to stop her from helping a friend in dire need. Dream Angel lifted her head, still obscured under the large brimmed hat, to scan for any bystanders in the park behind her apartment building. Realizing she was completely alone, Dream Angel discarded the large hat to reveal her long honey blonde locks and lovely masked face. She threw her arms out to the sides, dropping the overcoat to the ground that concealed her dazzling white clinging costume and wings. Dream Angel spread out her wings behind her and applied light fingered pressure inside her gloves to flap them behind her. Quickly, the mechanical feathered wings moved swiftly enough to lift Dream Angel off the ground and into flight. Once airborne to a height of 100 feet or so, her eyes drifted to a flashing silver bracelet that would direct her to the imperiled Batwoman. As she flew closer to the downtown business district, the homing signal grew stronger. Dream Angel was indeed getting closer to a friend in need of aid. Who and what the Dream Angel might encounter upon arrival was still a complete mystery to her. An unknown villain and unknown peril was drawing closer in the streets or buildings below her.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
Through sleepy eyes, Jessica tried to piece together some clues as to why Ms. Hansen was the target of a nerfarious kidnapper. What she saw was more troubling than she could have imagined and led to many more questions than answers. Twenty feet from where Jessica sat bound to a pillar were two large iron birdcages. These cages with shiny brass bars were about five feet tall and three feet wide. Inside the cages were the sleeping figures of two young spandex-clad women Jessica recognized immediately. In the cage closest to her, she could see the strawberry blonde hair, the sweet angelic face, and the powder blue exercise leotard belonging to Valerie Goodwright. Valerie was curled up in peaceful slumber on the floor of her brass prison. In the cage next to Valerie's, the short blonde hair and the yellow eye mask of her niece and crime-fighting partner, Christine a/k/a Flamebird, came into view. Flamebird was propped up slightly against the bars of her cage, sleeping off the same knockout powder attack that fell Jessica. Even though Jessica's view of her niece was partially obscured by Valerie and her cage, she could see Christine was decked out her signature red spandex costume she wore to fight crime as the teen sensation Flamebird.
Jessica's mind, still dazed from the drugging she received, raced that the possibilities. Who was responsible for kidnapping not only her, but her niece and one of her students? Why was Christine in her Flamebird costume? Could a villain have discovered Jessica Hansen's secret that she was indeed the world renowed crime fighter Batwoman? Jessica's brain was too hazy from the lingering effects of the sleeping powder and too confused by the shocking sight of Flamebird and Valerie Goodwright held captive in cages to make any sense of what was truly going on. She was in no condition to break free from her bonds and the wonderful tools in the utility belt she wore as Batwoman were nowhere to be found. The only thing Jessica could do was fumble with her fingers to reach an emergency beckon hidden in the bracelet she wore. The emergency beckon would send a distress signal out to another of Gotham City's superheroines and signal her whereabouts. The distress signal was activated as Jessica positioned her hands carefully behind her back, a distress signal that would go out to the beautiful and mysterious heroine known as Dream Angel. Jessica did not know the real identity of Dream Angel, all Jessica knew was that Dream Angel may be her only hope.
The Wharf area of Gotham City was populated with a variety of restaurants and shops that attracted a good portion of tourist traffic. One of the most popular restaurants was Boomer's, a burger and hot wing joint more famous for it's sexy waitresses than it's greasy comfort food. One of these sexy waitresses was finishing her afternoon shift and making her way to the parking lot for her break. Still clad in the well-known Boomer's Girls costume of a tight white tank top, bright orange clinging dolphin shorts, and tan pantyhose, Tiffany Nicole noticed a small flashing light on the thin silver bracelet she wore. The signal, Tiffany knew, was from Batwoman and the signal was going out to Tiffany's crime-fighting alter-ego of Dream Angel. Tiffany knew well of the legend of Batwoman and had even worked with her and her teen partner, Flamebird, on a couple of occassions as Dream Angel, but she was as in the dark as the rest of Gotham City as to the real identity of the famed heroine.
Tiffany Nicole was a lovely 23 year old aspiring model and actress. She had long honey blonde hair and the beautiful girl-next-door looks of a Playboy centerfold. While she wasn't exceptionally tall, standing only 5'5, Tiffany had a sexy voluptuous hourglass figure. Her large breasts and shapely behind stood out even more in contrast with her small waist. Despite her striking beauty and sexy form, Tiffany's career as a model and actress was not going as well as she hoped. While she appeared in the annual Boomer's Girls calendar and had appeared in some print ads for the restaurant, the career Tiffany had envisioned for herself never developed. The true attention from the public she craved more than anything else came from her crime-fighting exploits as the sexy Dream Angel. While Dream Angel's images and deeds were splashed all over the newspapers and television, Tiffany Nicole still operated as a relative unknown. Tiffany felt her crime-fighting alter-ego was both a curse and a blessing. A blessing in that Dream Angel was as popular and well-known as even Batwoman. A curse in that the true identity of Dream Angel could never be revealed to her fawning public. There were times when it took all the restraint Dream Angel could muster to keep from removing her mask and showing Gotham City that Dream Angel was really Tiffany Nicole.
As Tiffany made her way across the parking lot in her Boomer's Girl costume, she wondered what type of peril Batwoman was facing. As Gotham's most capable superheroine, Batwoman rarely found herself in a situation she couldn't get herself out of. Just what type of danger might Dream Angel be flying into if Batwoman can't handle it, Tiffany wondered to herself as she approached her modest late model Toyota Corolla. Her next shift of serving pictures of beer and spicy chicken wings would have to wait as Tiffany sped to her apartment to change into the flying dare-doll known as Dream Angel.
Tiffany rushed up the steps of her downtown apartment and made her way quickly to a spacious walk-in closet in her bedroom. She peeled off her tight tank top and slid out of her orange shorts and pantyhose. Tiffany reached for a bright white nylon body stocking and squeezed each luscious curve of her now naked body into the clinging nylon. Clad from her neck to toes in white nylon, Tiffany slipped pearl white gloves halfway up her elbows and slipped into a pair of pearl white go-go boots that rose to her knees. She then grabbed the hangar that held the true source of her power, a shimmering white sleeveless spandex leotard with large feathery wings attached to the back. Tiffany climbed carefully into the leotard and pulled the shoulder straps slowly over her nylon-clad body. Her large wings, which could be spread out to six feet in length, were secured by light titanium wires sewn into the leotard and the base of the wings were centered at the top of her back. Thick synthetic feathers were attacted to titanium wires that were shaped to constitute the frame of her "wings." Sensors inside her gloves allowed her to operate the mechanicm that moved the wings and allowed Dream Angel to fly. The final touches of Dream Angel's costume were applied as Tiffany secured a white eye mask to her face and buckled a white belt around her waist. A simple (yet sexy) Boomer's Girl completed her transformation the spandex-clad winged avenging angel of justice, Dream Angel.
Departing her apartment in costume could be a dicey proposition for a superheroine trying to protect her secret identity. Dream Angel grabbed a large oversized brown overcoat to hide her spandex and nylon costume and her large white wings. A matching brown hat with a brim large enough to be pulled down over her masked face was also secured as Dream Angel left her apartment to locate a vacant space to fly off in full costume.
As Tiffany walked to the back of her building in her oversized disguise, she couldn't help but wonder what adventure she may be flying into. The bracelet on her wrist would act as a homing device to help her easily locate the superheroine in distress, but what might Dream Angel find once she gets there? A wave of fear caused her to hestitate ever so slightly. While the superheroine in white was a well-conditioned athlete, Dream Angel's only real power was the ability to fly. If the ever capable Batwoman and her partner Flamebird were in over their heads, what chance did the relatively new heroine have in a similiar situation? And Dream Angel had absolutely no idea as to the situation or the villain involved. As Dream Angel would often do in times of stress and peril, she thought back to the person that made her career as a superheroine possible.
Tiffany's grandmother, Betty Nicole, was the famed World War II superheroine of Gotham City, the Avenging Angel. In a white leotard with mechanical wings, a masked Betty fought the criminals and war sabatours that prayed upon Gotham City. Known for her feats of daring and a risque, tight revealing costume, Betty, in her guise as Avenging Angel, captivated the war-weary citizens of Gotham. Betty's eccentric uncle Harold was a amateur inventor that tinkered with creating a flying suit with mechanical wings that would allow a human to fly as freely as a bird. Harold created the suit for his niece, the brunette Betty, a champion 19 year old gymnast. What Betty didn't know was that her 'crazy' Uncle Harold was secretly working for the U.S. Government, gaining access to the latest military technology of the mid-1940's to develop weapons in the privacy of his basement.
While Betty had long since retired as an active superheroine, she did want to pass on her legacy of superpowered public service to a granddaughter who was a bit too selfish and vain for her own good. The elderly Betty presented Tiffany, who seemed to spend all her time working on her hair, face, and body, with the white winged leotard and gave the young woman a tutorial on how to use it to fly. While Tiffany could be somewhat self-absorbed with her looks and career, she did possess a good, kind heart. Betty appealled to Tiffany's better nature and stressed how these new found powers could be used to fight the numerous villains that plagued Gotham City. Tiffany deeply loved her grandmother and greatly feared disappointing her. Betty's loving advice and commitment to the common good inspired Tiffany to carry on her legacy as the superheroine Dream Angel.
The fear that washed over Dream Angel quickly disappeared as Tiffany thought of the words and deeds of her brave grandmother. The Avenging Angel would never allow fear to stop her from helping a friend in dire need. Dream Angel lifted her head, still obscured under the large brimmed hat, to scan for any bystanders in the park behind her apartment building. Realizing she was completely alone, Dream Angel discarded the large hat to reveal her long honey blonde locks and lovely masked face. She threw her arms out to the sides, dropping the overcoat to the ground that concealed her dazzling white clinging costume and wings. Dream Angel spread out her wings behind her and applied light fingered pressure inside her gloves to flap them behind her. Quickly, the mechanical feathered wings moved swiftly enough to lift Dream Angel off the ground and into flight. Once airborne to a height of 100 feet or so, her eyes drifted to a flashing silver bracelet that would direct her to the imperiled Batwoman. As she flew closer to the downtown business district, the homing signal grew stronger. Dream Angel was indeed getting closer to a friend in need of aid. Who and what the Dream Angel might encounter upon arrival was still a complete mystery to her. An unknown villain and unknown peril was drawing closer in the streets or buildings below her.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
Jessica Hansen awoke slowly from the sleeping powder that subdued her in the girl's locker room. Still weak and barely able to open her eyes, Jessica tried to survey her surroundings. She noticed she was still in her green leotard and tights and that she was seated on what felt like a wooden floor. A hazy scan of the room revealed that Jessica was in a storeroom of some sort. The lighting in the room was dim, with only small slivers of sunlight that shone from an unseen window. The lack of lighting and the effects of the knockout powder made it difficult for Jessica to assess where she was and what was going on. She could feel her arms were pulled behind her, wrists tied with some type of rope around a pillar in this storeroom. Jessica sat upright against this pillar with her long legs, bound at the ankles, stretched out on the wooden floor. She did not know where she was or who kidnapped her. All she knew was that she was in big trouble. In her guise as Batwoman, numerous villains had attempted to capture and bind her. Why would someone kidnap a mild-mannered gym teacher?
Through sleepy eyes, Jessica tried to piece together some clues as to why Ms. Hansen was the target of a nerfarious kidnapper. What she saw was more troubling than she could have imagined and led to many more questions than answers. Twenty feet from where Jessica sat bound to a pillar were two large iron birdcages. These cages with shiny brass bars were about five feet tall and three feet wide. Inside the cages were the sleeping figures of two young spandex-clad women Jessica recognized immediately. In the cage closest to her, she could see the strawberry blonde hair, the sweet angelic face, and the powder blue exercise leotard belonging to Valerie Goodwright. Valerie was curled up in peaceful slumber on the floor of her brass prison. In the cage next to Valerie's, the short blonde hair and the yellow eye mask of her niece and crime-fighting partner, Christine a/k/a Flamebird, came into view. Flamebird was propped up slightly against the bars of her cage, sleeping off the same knockout powder attack that fell Jessica. Even though Jessica's view of her niece was partially obscured by Valerie and her cage, she could see Christine was decked out her signature red spandex costume she wore to fight crime as the teen sensation Flamebird.
Jessica's mind, still dazed from the drugging she received, raced that the possibilities. Who was responsible for kidnapping not only her, but her niece and one of her students? Why was Christine in her Flamebird costume? Could a villain have discovered Jessica Hansen's secret that she was indeed the world renowed crime fighter Batwoman? Jessica's brain was too hazy from the lingering effects of the sleeping powder and too confused by the shocking sight of Flamebird and Valerie Goodwright held captive in cages to make any sense of what was truly going on. She was in no condition to break free from her bonds and the wonderful tools in the utility belt she wore as Batwoman were nowhere to be found. The only thing Jessica could do was fumble with her fingers to reach an emergency beckon hidden in the bracelet she wore. The emergency beckon would send a distress signal out to another of Gotham City's superheroines and signal her whereabouts. The distress signal was activated as Jessica positioned her hands carefully behind her back, a distress signal that would go out to the beautiful and mysterious heroine known as Dream Angel. Jessica did not know the real identity of Dream Angel, all Jessica knew was that Dream Angel may be her only hope.
The Wharf area of Gotham City was populated with a variety of restaurants and shops that attracted a good portion of tourist traffic. One of the most popular restaurants was Boomer's, a burger and hot wing joint more famous for it's sexy waitresses than it's greasy comfort food. One of these sexy waitresses was finishing her afternoon shift and making her way to the parking lot for her break. Still clad in the well-known Boomer's Girls costume of a tight white tank top, bright orange clinging dolphin shorts, and tan pantyhose, Tiffany Nicole noticed a small flashing light on the thin silver bracelet she wore. The signal, Tiffany knew, was from Batwoman and the signal was going out to Tiffany's crime-fighting alter-ego of Dream Angel. Tiffany knew well of the legend of Batwoman and had even worked with her and her teen partner, Flamebird, on a couple of occassions as Dream Angel, but she was as in the dark as the rest of Gotham City as to the real identity of the famed heroine.
Tiffany Nicole was a lovely 23 year old aspiring model and actress. She had long honey blonde hair and the beautiful girl-next-door looks of a Playboy centerfold. While she wasn't exceptionally tall, standing only 5'5, Tiffany had a sexy voluptuous hourglass figure. Her large breasts and shapely behind stood out even more in contrast with her small waist. Despite her striking beauty and sexy form, Tiffany's career as a model and actress was not going as well as she hoped. While she appeared in the annual Boomer's Girls calendar and had appeared in some print ads for the restaurant, the career Tiffany had envisioned for herself never developed. The true attention from the public she craved more than anything else came from her crime-fighting exploits as the sexy Dream Angel. While Dream Angel's images and deeds were splashed all over the newspapers and television, Tiffany Nicole still operated as a relative unknown. Tiffany felt her crime-fighting alter-ego was both a curse and a blessing. A blessing in that Dream Angel was as popular and well-known as even Batwoman. A curse in that the true identity of Dream Angel could never be revealed to her fawning public. There were times when it took all the restraint Dream Angel could muster to keep from removing her mask and showing Gotham City that Dream Angel was really Tiffany Nicole.
As Tiffany made her way across the parking lot in her Boomer's Girl costume, she wondered what type of peril Batwoman was facing. As Gotham's most capable superheroine, Batwoman rarely found herself in a situation she couldn't get herself out of. Just what type of danger might Dream Angel be flying into if Batwoman can't handle it, Tiffany wondered to herself as she approached her modest late model Toyota Corolla. Her next shift of serving pictures of beer and spicy chicken wings would have to wait as Tiffany sped to her apartment to change into the flying dare-doll known as Dream Angel.
Tiffany rushed up the steps of her downtown apartment and made her way quickly to a spacious walk-in closet in her bedroom. She peeled off her tight tank top and slid out of her orange shorts and pantyhose. Tiffany reached for a bright white nylon body stocking and squeezed each luscious curve of her now naked body into the clinging nylon. Clad from her neck to toes in white nylon, Tiffany slipped pearl white gloves halfway up her elbows and slipped into a pair of pearl white go-go boots that rose to her knees. She then grabbed the hangar that held the true source of her power, a shimmering white sleeveless spandex leotard with large feathery wings attached to the back. Tiffany climbed carefully into the leotard and pulled the shoulder straps slowly over her nylon-clad body. Her large wings, which could be spread out to six feet in length, were secured by light titanium wires sewn into the leotard and the base of the wings were centered at the top of her back. Thick synthetic feathers were attacted to titanium wires that were shaped to constitute the frame of her "wings." Sensors inside her gloves allowed her to operate the mechanicm that moved the wings and allowed Dream Angel to fly. The final touches of Dream Angel's costume were applied as Tiffany secured a white eye mask to her face and buckled a white belt around her waist. A simple (yet sexy) Boomer's Girl completed her transformation the spandex-clad winged avenging angel of justice, Dream Angel.
Departing her apartment in costume could be a dicey proposition for a superheroine trying to protect her secret identity. Dream Angel grabbed a large oversized brown overcoat to hide her spandex and nylon costume and her large white wings. A matching brown hat with a brim large enough to be pulled down over her masked face was also secured as Dream Angel left her apartment to locate a vacant space to fly off in full costume.
As Tiffany walked to the back of her building in her oversized disguise, she couldn't help but wonder what adventure she may be flying into. The bracelet on her wrist would act as a homing device to help her easily locate the superheroine in distress, but what might Dream Angel find once she gets there? A wave of fear caused her to hestitate ever so slightly. While the superheroine in white was a well-conditioned athlete, Dream Angel's only real power was the ability to fly. If the ever capable Batwoman and her partner Flamebird were in over their heads, what chance did the relatively new heroine have in a similiar situation? And Dream Angel had absolutely no idea as to the situation or the villain involved. As Dream Angel would often do in times of stress and peril, she thought back to the person that made her career as a superheroine possible.
Tiffany's grandmother, Betty Nicole, was the famed World War II superheroine of Gotham City, the Avenging Angel. In a white leotard with mechanical wings, a masked Betty fought the criminals and war sabatours that prayed upon Gotham City. Known for her feats of daring and a risque, tight revealing costume, Betty, in her guise as Avenging Angel, captivated the war-weary citizens of Gotham. Betty's eccentric uncle Harold was a amateur inventor that tinkered with creating a flying suit with mechanical wings that would allow a human to fly as freely as a bird. Harold created the suit for his niece, the brunette Betty, a champion 19 year old gymnast. What Betty didn't know was that her 'crazy' Uncle Harold was secretly working for the U.S. Government, gaining access to the latest military technology of the mid-1940's to develop weapons in the privacy of his basement.
While Betty had long since retired as an active superheroine, she did want to pass on her legacy of superpowered public service to a granddaughter who was a bit too selfish and vain for her own good. The elderly Betty presented Tiffany, who seemed to spend all her time working on her hair, face, and body, with the white winged leotard and gave the young woman a tutorial on how to use it to fly. While Tiffany could be somewhat self-absorbed with her looks and career, she did possess a good, kind heart. Betty appealled to Tiffany's better nature and stressed how these new found powers could be used to fight the numerous villains that plagued Gotham City. Tiffany deeply loved her grandmother and greatly feared disappointing her. Betty's loving advice and commitment to the common good inspired Tiffany to carry on her legacy as the superheroine Dream Angel.
The fear that washed over Dream Angel quickly disappeared as Tiffany thought of the words and deeds of her brave grandmother. The Avenging Angel would never allow fear to stop her from helping a friend in dire need. Dream Angel lifted her head, still obscured under the large brimmed hat, to scan for any bystanders in the park behind her apartment building. Realizing she was completely alone, Dream Angel discarded the large hat to reveal her long honey blonde locks and lovely masked face. She threw her arms out to the sides, dropping the overcoat to the ground that concealed her dazzling white clinging costume and wings. Dream Angel spread out her wings behind her and applied light fingered pressure inside her gloves to flap them behind her. Quickly, the mechanical feathered wings moved swiftly enough to lift Dream Angel off the ground and into flight. Once airborne to a height of 100 feet or so, her eyes drifted to a flashing silver bracelet that would direct her to the imperiled Batwoman. As she flew closer to the downtown business district, the homing signal grew stronger. Dream Angel was indeed getting closer to a friend in need of aid. Who and what the Dream Angel might encounter upon arrival was still a complete mystery to her. An unknown villain and unknown peril was drawing closer in the streets or buildings below her.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
Through sleepy eyes, Jessica tried to piece together some clues as to why Ms. Hansen was the target of a nerfarious kidnapper. What she saw was more troubling than she could have imagined and led to many more questions than answers. Twenty feet from where Jessica sat bound to a pillar were two large iron birdcages. These cages with shiny brass bars were about five feet tall and three feet wide. Inside the cages were the sleeping figures of two young spandex-clad women Jessica recognized immediately. In the cage closest to her, she could see the strawberry blonde hair, the sweet angelic face, and the powder blue exercise leotard belonging to Valerie Goodwright. Valerie was curled up in peaceful slumber on the floor of her brass prison. In the cage next to Valerie's, the short blonde hair and the yellow eye mask of her niece and crime-fighting partner, Christine a/k/a Flamebird, came into view. Flamebird was propped up slightly against the bars of her cage, sleeping off the same knockout powder attack that fell Jessica. Even though Jessica's view of her niece was partially obscured by Valerie and her cage, she could see Christine was decked out her signature red spandex costume she wore to fight crime as the teen sensation Flamebird.
Jessica's mind, still dazed from the drugging she received, raced that the possibilities. Who was responsible for kidnapping not only her, but her niece and one of her students? Why was Christine in her Flamebird costume? Could a villain have discovered Jessica Hansen's secret that she was indeed the world renowed crime fighter Batwoman? Jessica's brain was too hazy from the lingering effects of the sleeping powder and too confused by the shocking sight of Flamebird and Valerie Goodwright held captive in cages to make any sense of what was truly going on. She was in no condition to break free from her bonds and the wonderful tools in the utility belt she wore as Batwoman were nowhere to be found. The only thing Jessica could do was fumble with her fingers to reach an emergency beckon hidden in the bracelet she wore. The emergency beckon would send a distress signal out to another of Gotham City's superheroines and signal her whereabouts. The distress signal was activated as Jessica positioned her hands carefully behind her back, a distress signal that would go out to the beautiful and mysterious heroine known as Dream Angel. Jessica did not know the real identity of Dream Angel, all Jessica knew was that Dream Angel may be her only hope.
The Wharf area of Gotham City was populated with a variety of restaurants and shops that attracted a good portion of tourist traffic. One of the most popular restaurants was Boomer's, a burger and hot wing joint more famous for it's sexy waitresses than it's greasy comfort food. One of these sexy waitresses was finishing her afternoon shift and making her way to the parking lot for her break. Still clad in the well-known Boomer's Girls costume of a tight white tank top, bright orange clinging dolphin shorts, and tan pantyhose, Tiffany Nicole noticed a small flashing light on the thin silver bracelet she wore. The signal, Tiffany knew, was from Batwoman and the signal was going out to Tiffany's crime-fighting alter-ego of Dream Angel. Tiffany knew well of the legend of Batwoman and had even worked with her and her teen partner, Flamebird, on a couple of occassions as Dream Angel, but she was as in the dark as the rest of Gotham City as to the real identity of the famed heroine.
Tiffany Nicole was a lovely 23 year old aspiring model and actress. She had long honey blonde hair and the beautiful girl-next-door looks of a Playboy centerfold. While she wasn't exceptionally tall, standing only 5'5, Tiffany had a sexy voluptuous hourglass figure. Her large breasts and shapely behind stood out even more in contrast with her small waist. Despite her striking beauty and sexy form, Tiffany's career as a model and actress was not going as well as she hoped. While she appeared in the annual Boomer's Girls calendar and had appeared in some print ads for the restaurant, the career Tiffany had envisioned for herself never developed. The true attention from the public she craved more than anything else came from her crime-fighting exploits as the sexy Dream Angel. While Dream Angel's images and deeds were splashed all over the newspapers and television, Tiffany Nicole still operated as a relative unknown. Tiffany felt her crime-fighting alter-ego was both a curse and a blessing. A blessing in that Dream Angel was as popular and well-known as even Batwoman. A curse in that the true identity of Dream Angel could never be revealed to her fawning public. There were times when it took all the restraint Dream Angel could muster to keep from removing her mask and showing Gotham City that Dream Angel was really Tiffany Nicole.
As Tiffany made her way across the parking lot in her Boomer's Girl costume, she wondered what type of peril Batwoman was facing. As Gotham's most capable superheroine, Batwoman rarely found herself in a situation she couldn't get herself out of. Just what type of danger might Dream Angel be flying into if Batwoman can't handle it, Tiffany wondered to herself as she approached her modest late model Toyota Corolla. Her next shift of serving pictures of beer and spicy chicken wings would have to wait as Tiffany sped to her apartment to change into the flying dare-doll known as Dream Angel.
Tiffany rushed up the steps of her downtown apartment and made her way quickly to a spacious walk-in closet in her bedroom. She peeled off her tight tank top and slid out of her orange shorts and pantyhose. Tiffany reached for a bright white nylon body stocking and squeezed each luscious curve of her now naked body into the clinging nylon. Clad from her neck to toes in white nylon, Tiffany slipped pearl white gloves halfway up her elbows and slipped into a pair of pearl white go-go boots that rose to her knees. She then grabbed the hangar that held the true source of her power, a shimmering white sleeveless spandex leotard with large feathery wings attached to the back. Tiffany climbed carefully into the leotard and pulled the shoulder straps slowly over her nylon-clad body. Her large wings, which could be spread out to six feet in length, were secured by light titanium wires sewn into the leotard and the base of the wings were centered at the top of her back. Thick synthetic feathers were attacted to titanium wires that were shaped to constitute the frame of her "wings." Sensors inside her gloves allowed her to operate the mechanicm that moved the wings and allowed Dream Angel to fly. The final touches of Dream Angel's costume were applied as Tiffany secured a white eye mask to her face and buckled a white belt around her waist. A simple (yet sexy) Boomer's Girl completed her transformation the spandex-clad winged avenging angel of justice, Dream Angel.
Departing her apartment in costume could be a dicey proposition for a superheroine trying to protect her secret identity. Dream Angel grabbed a large oversized brown overcoat to hide her spandex and nylon costume and her large white wings. A matching brown hat with a brim large enough to be pulled down over her masked face was also secured as Dream Angel left her apartment to locate a vacant space to fly off in full costume.
As Tiffany walked to the back of her building in her oversized disguise, she couldn't help but wonder what adventure she may be flying into. The bracelet on her wrist would act as a homing device to help her easily locate the superheroine in distress, but what might Dream Angel find once she gets there? A wave of fear caused her to hestitate ever so slightly. While the superheroine in white was a well-conditioned athlete, Dream Angel's only real power was the ability to fly. If the ever capable Batwoman and her partner Flamebird were in over their heads, what chance did the relatively new heroine have in a similiar situation? And Dream Angel had absolutely no idea as to the situation or the villain involved. As Dream Angel would often do in times of stress and peril, she thought back to the person that made her career as a superheroine possible.
Tiffany's grandmother, Betty Nicole, was the famed World War II superheroine of Gotham City, the Avenging Angel. In a white leotard with mechanical wings, a masked Betty fought the criminals and war sabatours that prayed upon Gotham City. Known for her feats of daring and a risque, tight revealing costume, Betty, in her guise as Avenging Angel, captivated the war-weary citizens of Gotham. Betty's eccentric uncle Harold was a amateur inventor that tinkered with creating a flying suit with mechanical wings that would allow a human to fly as freely as a bird. Harold created the suit for his niece, the brunette Betty, a champion 19 year old gymnast. What Betty didn't know was that her 'crazy' Uncle Harold was secretly working for the U.S. Government, gaining access to the latest military technology of the mid-1940's to develop weapons in the privacy of his basement.
While Betty had long since retired as an active superheroine, she did want to pass on her legacy of superpowered public service to a granddaughter who was a bit too selfish and vain for her own good. The elderly Betty presented Tiffany, who seemed to spend all her time working on her hair, face, and body, with the white winged leotard and gave the young woman a tutorial on how to use it to fly. While Tiffany could be somewhat self-absorbed with her looks and career, she did possess a good, kind heart. Betty appealled to Tiffany's better nature and stressed how these new found powers could be used to fight the numerous villains that plagued Gotham City. Tiffany deeply loved her grandmother and greatly feared disappointing her. Betty's loving advice and commitment to the common good inspired Tiffany to carry on her legacy as the superheroine Dream Angel.
The fear that washed over Dream Angel quickly disappeared as Tiffany thought of the words and deeds of her brave grandmother. The Avenging Angel would never allow fear to stop her from helping a friend in dire need. Dream Angel lifted her head, still obscured under the large brimmed hat, to scan for any bystanders in the park behind her apartment building. Realizing she was completely alone, Dream Angel discarded the large hat to reveal her long honey blonde locks and lovely masked face. She threw her arms out to the sides, dropping the overcoat to the ground that concealed her dazzling white clinging costume and wings. Dream Angel spread out her wings behind her and applied light fingered pressure inside her gloves to flap them behind her. Quickly, the mechanical feathered wings moved swiftly enough to lift Dream Angel off the ground and into flight. Once airborne to a height of 100 feet or so, her eyes drifted to a flashing silver bracelet that would direct her to the imperiled Batwoman. As she flew closer to the downtown business district, the homing signal grew stronger. Dream Angel was indeed getting closer to a friend in need of aid. Who and what the Dream Angel might encounter upon arrival was still a complete mystery to her. An unknown villain and unknown peril was drawing closer in the streets or buildings below her.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
Jessica Hansen awoke slowly from the sleeping powder that subdued her in the girl's locker room. Still weak and barely able to open her eyes, Jessica tried to survey her surroundings. She noticed she was still in her green leotard and tights and that she was seated on what felt like a wooden floor. A hazy scan of the room revealed that Jessica was in a storeroom of some sort. The lighting in the room was dim, with only small slivers of sunlight that shone from an unseen window. The lack of lighting and the effects of the knockout powder made it difficult for Jessica to assess where she was and what was going on. She could feel her arms were pulled behind her, wrists tied with some type of rope around a pillar in this storeroom. Jessica sat upright against this pillar with her long legs, bound at the ankles, stretched out on the wooden floor. She did not know where she was or who kidnapped her. All she knew was that she was in big trouble. In her guise as Batwoman, numerous villains had attempted to capture and bind her. Why would someone kidnap a mild-mannered gym teacher?
Through sleepy eyes, Jessica tried to piece together some clues as to why Ms. Hansen was the target of a nerfarious kidnapper. What she saw was more troubling than she could have imagined and led to many more questions than answers. Twenty feet from where Jessica sat bound to a pillar were two large iron birdcages. These cages with shiny brass bars were about five feet tall and three feet wide. Inside the cages were the sleeping figures of two young spandex-clad women Jessica recognized immediately. In the cage closest to her, she could see the strawberry blonde hair, the sweet angelic face, and the powder blue exercise leotard belonging to Valerie Goodwright. Valerie was curled up in peaceful slumber on the floor of her brass prison. In the cage next to Valerie's, the short blonde hair and the yellow eye mask of her niece and crime-fighting partner, Christine a/k/a Flamebird, came into view. Flamebird was propped up slightly against the bars of her cage, sleeping off the same knockout powder attack that fell Jessica. Even though Jessica's view of her niece was partially obscured by Valerie and her cage, she could see Christine was decked out her signature red spandex costume she wore to fight crime as the teen sensation Flamebird.
Jessica's mind, still dazed from the drugging she received, raced that the possibilities. Who was responsible for kidnapping not only her, but her niece and one of her students? Why was Christine in her Flamebird costume? Could a villain have discovered Jessica Hansen's secret that she was indeed the world renowed crime fighter Batwoman? Jessica's brain was too hazy from the lingering effects of the sleeping powder and too confused by the shocking sight of Flamebird and Valerie Goodwright held captive in cages to make any sense of what was truly going on. She was in no condition to break free from her bonds and the wonderful tools in the utility belt she wore as Batwoman were nowhere to be found. The only thing Jessica could do was fumble with her fingers to reach an emergency beckon hidden in the bracelet she wore. The emergency beckon would send a distress signal out to another of Gotham City's superheroines and signal her whereabouts. The distress signal was activated as Jessica positioned her hands carefully behind her back, a distress signal that would go out to the beautiful and mysterious heroine known as Dream Angel. Jessica did not know the real identity of Dream Angel, all Jessica knew was that Dream Angel may be her only hope.
The Wharf area of Gotham City was populated with a variety of restaurants and shops that attracted a good portion of tourist traffic. One of the most popular restaurants was Boomer's, a burger and hot wing joint more famous for it's sexy waitresses than it's greasy comfort food. One of these sexy waitresses was finishing her afternoon shift and making her way to the parking lot for her break. Still clad in the well-known Boomer's Girls costume of a tight white tank top, bright orange clinging dolphin shorts, and tan pantyhose, Tiffany Nicole noticed a small flashing light on the thin silver bracelet she wore. The signal, Tiffany knew, was from Batwoman and the signal was going out to Tiffany's crime-fighting alter-ego of Dream Angel. Tiffany knew well of the legend of Batwoman and had even worked with her and her teen partner, Flamebird, on a couple of occassions as Dream Angel, but she was as in the dark as the rest of Gotham City as to the real identity of the famed heroine.
Tiffany Nicole was a lovely 23 year old aspiring model and actress. She had long honey blonde hair and the beautiful girl-next-door looks of a Playboy centerfold. While she wasn't exceptionally tall, standing only 5'5, Tiffany had a sexy voluptuous hourglass figure. Her large breasts and shapely behind stood out even more in contrast with her small waist. Despite her striking beauty and sexy form, Tiffany's career as a model and actress was not going as well as she hoped. While she appeared in the annual Boomer's Girls calendar and had appeared in some print ads for the restaurant, the career Tiffany had envisioned for herself never developed. The true attention from the public she craved more than anything else came from her crime-fighting exploits as the sexy Dream Angel. While Dream Angel's images and deeds were splashed all over the newspapers and television, Tiffany Nicole still operated as a relative unknown. Tiffany felt her crime-fighting alter-ego was both a curse and a blessing. A blessing in that Dream Angel was as popular and well-known as even Batwoman. A curse in that the true identity of Dream Angel could never be revealed to her fawning public. There were times when it took all the restraint Dream Angel could muster to keep from removing her mask and showing Gotham City that Dream Angel was really Tiffany Nicole.
As Tiffany made her way across the parking lot in her Boomer's Girl costume, she wondered what type of peril Batwoman was facing. As Gotham's most capable superheroine, Batwoman rarely found herself in a situation she couldn't get herself out of. Just what type of danger might Dream Angel be flying into if Batwoman can't handle it, Tiffany wondered to herself as she approached her modest late model Toyota Corolla. Her next shift of serving pictures of beer and spicy chicken wings would have to wait as Tiffany sped to her apartment to change into the flying dare-doll known as Dream Angel.
Tiffany rushed up the steps of her downtown apartment and made her way quickly to a spacious walk-in closet in her bedroom. She peeled off her tight tank top and slid out of her orange shorts and pantyhose. Tiffany reached for a bright white nylon body stocking and squeezed each luscious curve of her now naked body into the clinging nylon. Clad from her neck to toes in white nylon, Tiffany slipped pearl white gloves halfway up her elbows and slipped into a pair of pearl white go-go boots that rose to her knees. She then grabbed the hangar that held the true source of her power, a shimmering white sleeveless spandex leotard with large feathery wings attached to the back. Tiffany climbed carefully into the leotard and pulled the shoulder straps slowly over her nylon-clad body. Her large wings, which could be spread out to six feet in length, were secured by light titanium wires sewn into the leotard and the base of the wings were centered at the top of her back. Thick synthetic feathers were attacted to titanium wires that were shaped to constitute the frame of her "wings." Sensors inside her gloves allowed her to operate the mechanicm that moved the wings and allowed Dream Angel to fly. The final touches of Dream Angel's costume were applied as Tiffany secured a white eye mask to her face and buckled a white belt around her waist. A simple (yet sexy) Boomer's Girl completed her transformation the spandex-clad winged avenging angel of justice, Dream Angel.
Departing her apartment in costume could be a dicey proposition for a superheroine trying to protect her secret identity. Dream Angel grabbed a large oversized brown overcoat to hide her spandex and nylon costume and her large white wings. A matching brown hat with a brim large enough to be pulled down over her masked face was also secured as Dream Angel left her apartment to locate a vacant space to fly off in full costume.
As Tiffany walked to the back of her building in her oversized disguise, she couldn't help but wonder what adventure she may be flying into. The bracelet on her wrist would act as a homing device to help her easily locate the superheroine in distress, but what might Dream Angel find once she gets there? A wave of fear caused her to hestitate ever so slightly. While the superheroine in white was a well-conditioned athlete, Dream Angel's only real power was the ability to fly. If the ever capable Batwoman and her partner Flamebird were in over their heads, what chance did the relatively new heroine have in a similiar situation? And Dream Angel had absolutely no idea as to the situation or the villain involved. As Dream Angel would often do in times of stress and peril, she thought back to the person that made her career as a superheroine possible.
Tiffany's grandmother, Betty Nicole, was the famed World War II superheroine of Gotham City, the Avenging Angel. In a white leotard with mechanical wings, a masked Betty fought the criminals and war sabatours that prayed upon Gotham City. Known for her feats of daring and a risque, tight revealing costume, Betty, in her guise as Avenging Angel, captivated the war-weary citizens of Gotham. Betty's eccentric uncle Harold was a amateur inventor that tinkered with creating a flying suit with mechanical wings that would allow a human to fly as freely as a bird. Harold created the suit for his niece, the brunette Betty, a champion 19 year old gymnast. What Betty didn't know was that her 'crazy' Uncle Harold was secretly working for the U.S. Government, gaining access to the latest military technology of the mid-1940's to develop weapons in the privacy of his basement.
While Betty had long since retired as an active superheroine, she did want to pass on her legacy of superpowered public service to a granddaughter who was a bit too selfish and vain for her own good. The elderly Betty presented Tiffany, who seemed to spend all her time working on her hair, face, and body, with the white winged leotard and gave the young woman a tutorial on how to use it to fly. While Tiffany could be somewhat self-absorbed with her looks and career, she did possess a good, kind heart. Betty appealled to Tiffany's better nature and stressed how these new found powers could be used to fight the numerous villains that plagued Gotham City. Tiffany deeply loved her grandmother and greatly feared disappointing her. Betty's loving advice and commitment to the common good inspired Tiffany to carry on her legacy as the superheroine Dream Angel.
The fear that washed over Dream Angel quickly disappeared as Tiffany thought of the words and deeds of her brave grandmother. The Avenging Angel would never allow fear to stop her from helping a friend in dire need. Dream Angel lifted her head, still obscured under the large brimmed hat, to scan for any bystanders in the park behind her apartment building. Realizing she was completely alone, Dream Angel discarded the large hat to reveal her long honey blonde locks and lovely masked face. She threw her arms out to the sides, dropping the overcoat to the ground that concealed her dazzling white clinging costume and wings. Dream Angel spread out her wings behind her and applied light fingered pressure inside her gloves to flap them behind her. Quickly, the mechanical feathered wings moved swiftly enough to lift Dream Angel off the ground and into flight. Once airborne to a height of 100 feet or so, her eyes drifted to a flashing silver bracelet that would direct her to the imperiled Batwoman. As she flew closer to the downtown business district, the homing signal grew stronger. Dream Angel was indeed getting closer to a friend in need of aid. Who and what the Dream Angel might encounter upon arrival was still a complete mystery to her. An unknown villain and unknown peril was drawing closer in the streets or buildings below her.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
Through sleepy eyes, Jessica tried to piece together some clues as to why Ms. Hansen was the target of a nerfarious kidnapper. What she saw was more troubling than she could have imagined and led to many more questions than answers. Twenty feet from where Jessica sat bound to a pillar were two large iron birdcages. These cages with shiny brass bars were about five feet tall and three feet wide. Inside the cages were the sleeping figures of two young spandex-clad women Jessica recognized immediately. In the cage closest to her, she could see the strawberry blonde hair, the sweet angelic face, and the powder blue exercise leotard belonging to Valerie Goodwright. Valerie was curled up in peaceful slumber on the floor of her brass prison. In the cage next to Valerie's, the short blonde hair and the yellow eye mask of her niece and crime-fighting partner, Christine a/k/a Flamebird, came into view. Flamebird was propped up slightly against the bars of her cage, sleeping off the same knockout powder attack that fell Jessica. Even though Jessica's view of her niece was partially obscured by Valerie and her cage, she could see Christine was decked out her signature red spandex costume she wore to fight crime as the teen sensation Flamebird.
Jessica's mind, still dazed from the drugging she received, raced that the possibilities. Who was responsible for kidnapping not only her, but her niece and one of her students? Why was Christine in her Flamebird costume? Could a villain have discovered Jessica Hansen's secret that she was indeed the world renowed crime fighter Batwoman? Jessica's brain was too hazy from the lingering effects of the sleeping powder and too confused by the shocking sight of Flamebird and Valerie Goodwright held captive in cages to make any sense of what was truly going on. She was in no condition to break free from her bonds and the wonderful tools in the utility belt she wore as Batwoman were nowhere to be found. The only thing Jessica could do was fumble with her fingers to reach an emergency beckon hidden in the bracelet she wore. The emergency beckon would send a distress signal out to another of Gotham City's superheroines and signal her whereabouts. The distress signal was activated as Jessica positioned her hands carefully behind her back, a distress signal that would go out to the beautiful and mysterious heroine known as Dream Angel. Jessica did not know the real identity of Dream Angel, all Jessica knew was that Dream Angel may be her only hope.
The Wharf area of Gotham City was populated with a variety of restaurants and shops that attracted a good portion of tourist traffic. One of the most popular restaurants was Boomer's, a burger and hot wing joint more famous for it's sexy waitresses than it's greasy comfort food. One of these sexy waitresses was finishing her afternoon shift and making her way to the parking lot for her break. Still clad in the well-known Boomer's Girls costume of a tight white tank top, bright orange clinging dolphin shorts, and tan pantyhose, Tiffany Nicole noticed a small flashing light on the thin silver bracelet she wore. The signal, Tiffany knew, was from Batwoman and the signal was going out to Tiffany's crime-fighting alter-ego of Dream Angel. Tiffany knew well of the legend of Batwoman and had even worked with her and her teen partner, Flamebird, on a couple of occassions as Dream Angel, but she was as in the dark as the rest of Gotham City as to the real identity of the famed heroine.
Tiffany Nicole was a lovely 23 year old aspiring model and actress. She had long honey blonde hair and the beautiful girl-next-door looks of a Playboy centerfold. While she wasn't exceptionally tall, standing only 5'5, Tiffany had a sexy voluptuous hourglass figure. Her large breasts and shapely behind stood out even more in contrast with her small waist. Despite her striking beauty and sexy form, Tiffany's career as a model and actress was not going as well as she hoped. While she appeared in the annual Boomer's Girls calendar and had appeared in some print ads for the restaurant, the career Tiffany had envisioned for herself never developed. The true attention from the public she craved more than anything else came from her crime-fighting exploits as the sexy Dream Angel. While Dream Angel's images and deeds were splashed all over the newspapers and television, Tiffany Nicole still operated as a relative unknown. Tiffany felt her crime-fighting alter-ego was both a curse and a blessing. A blessing in that Dream Angel was as popular and well-known as even Batwoman. A curse in that the true identity of Dream Angel could never be revealed to her fawning public. There were times when it took all the restraint Dream Angel could muster to keep from removing her mask and showing Gotham City that Dream Angel was really Tiffany Nicole.
As Tiffany made her way across the parking lot in her Boomer's Girl costume, she wondered what type of peril Batwoman was facing. As Gotham's most capable superheroine, Batwoman rarely found herself in a situation she couldn't get herself out of. Just what type of danger might Dream Angel be flying into if Batwoman can't handle it, Tiffany wondered to herself as she approached her modest late model Toyota Corolla. Her next shift of serving pictures of beer and spicy chicken wings would have to wait as Tiffany sped to her apartment to change into the flying dare-doll known as Dream Angel.
Tiffany rushed up the steps of her downtown apartment and made her way quickly to a spacious walk-in closet in her bedroom. She peeled off her tight tank top and slid out of her orange shorts and pantyhose. Tiffany reached for a bright white nylon body stocking and squeezed each luscious curve of her now naked body into the clinging nylon. Clad from her neck to toes in white nylon, Tiffany slipped pearl white gloves halfway up her elbows and slipped into a pair of pearl white go-go boots that rose to her knees. She then grabbed the hangar that held the true source of her power, a shimmering white sleeveless spandex leotard with large feathery wings attached to the back. Tiffany climbed carefully into the leotard and pulled the shoulder straps slowly over her nylon-clad body. Her large wings, which could be spread out to six feet in length, were secured by light titanium wires sewn into the leotard and the base of the wings were centered at the top of her back. Thick synthetic feathers were attacted to titanium wires that were shaped to constitute the frame of her "wings." Sensors inside her gloves allowed her to operate the mechanicm that moved the wings and allowed Dream Angel to fly. The final touches of Dream Angel's costume were applied as Tiffany secured a white eye mask to her face and buckled a white belt around her waist. A simple (yet sexy) Boomer's Girl completed her transformation the spandex-clad winged avenging angel of justice, Dream Angel.
Departing her apartment in costume could be a dicey proposition for a superheroine trying to protect her secret identity. Dream Angel grabbed a large oversized brown overcoat to hide her spandex and nylon costume and her large white wings. A matching brown hat with a brim large enough to be pulled down over her masked face was also secured as Dream Angel left her apartment to locate a vacant space to fly off in full costume.
As Tiffany walked to the back of her building in her oversized disguise, she couldn't help but wonder what adventure she may be flying into. The bracelet on her wrist would act as a homing device to help her easily locate the superheroine in distress, but what might Dream Angel find once she gets there? A wave of fear caused her to hestitate ever so slightly. While the superheroine in white was a well-conditioned athlete, Dream Angel's only real power was the ability to fly. If the ever capable Batwoman and her partner Flamebird were in over their heads, what chance did the relatively new heroine have in a similiar situation? And Dream Angel had absolutely no idea as to the situation or the villain involved. As Dream Angel would often do in times of stress and peril, she thought back to the person that made her career as a superheroine possible.
Tiffany's grandmother, Betty Nicole, was the famed World War II superheroine of Gotham City, the Avenging Angel. In a white leotard with mechanical wings, a masked Betty fought the criminals and war sabatours that prayed upon Gotham City. Known for her feats of daring and a risque, tight revealing costume, Betty, in her guise as Avenging Angel, captivated the war-weary citizens of Gotham. Betty's eccentric uncle Harold was a amateur inventor that tinkered with creating a flying suit with mechanical wings that would allow a human to fly as freely as a bird. Harold created the suit for his niece, the brunette Betty, a champion 19 year old gymnast. What Betty didn't know was that her 'crazy' Uncle Harold was secretly working for the U.S. Government, gaining access to the latest military technology of the mid-1940's to develop weapons in the privacy of his basement.
While Betty had long since retired as an active superheroine, she did want to pass on her legacy of superpowered public service to a granddaughter who was a bit too selfish and vain for her own good. The elderly Betty presented Tiffany, who seemed to spend all her time working on her hair, face, and body, with the white winged leotard and gave the young woman a tutorial on how to use it to fly. While Tiffany could be somewhat self-absorbed with her looks and career, she did possess a good, kind heart. Betty appealled to Tiffany's better nature and stressed how these new found powers could be used to fight the numerous villains that plagued Gotham City. Tiffany deeply loved her grandmother and greatly feared disappointing her. Betty's loving advice and commitment to the common good inspired Tiffany to carry on her legacy as the superheroine Dream Angel.
The fear that washed over Dream Angel quickly disappeared as Tiffany thought of the words and deeds of her brave grandmother. The Avenging Angel would never allow fear to stop her from helping a friend in dire need. Dream Angel lifted her head, still obscured under the large brimmed hat, to scan for any bystanders in the park behind her apartment building. Realizing she was completely alone, Dream Angel discarded the large hat to reveal her long honey blonde locks and lovely masked face. She threw her arms out to the sides, dropping the overcoat to the ground that concealed her dazzling white clinging costume and wings. Dream Angel spread out her wings behind her and applied light fingered pressure inside her gloves to flap them behind her. Quickly, the mechanical feathered wings moved swiftly enough to lift Dream Angel off the ground and into flight. Once airborne to a height of 100 feet or so, her eyes drifted to a flashing silver bracelet that would direct her to the imperiled Batwoman. As she flew closer to the downtown business district, the homing signal grew stronger. Dream Angel was indeed getting closer to a friend in need of aid. Who and what the Dream Angel might encounter upon arrival was still a complete mystery to her. An unknown villain and unknown peril was drawing closer in the streets or buildings below her.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
The scene is an abandoned two-story building in the downtown business district of Gotham City. At one time, this building was the home of Throne's House of Costumes. At this time, it would serve as the lair of a mysterious supervillain and master of disguise, False Face, and his sexy evil henchwoman Blaze. On the second floor, a dazed bound teacher was beginning to awaken as a teen heiress and a teen superheroine slept peacefully in large birdcages. Closing in quickly on this location from air was the winged white superheroine, Dream Angel. On the first floor of this abandoned shop, False Face and Blaze continued with the next phase of their plan.
False Face sat at a desk centered in the middle of his evil cluttered workshop. A simple cell phone and fax machine were set before him as he attached computer chips that would act as scramblers on both devices, making any attempt to trace any transmissions from either impossible. Blaze, in a black nylon bodystocking that accented every one of her curves, was printing digital photos from a disk at a personal computer. The red-haired vixen whose lovely face was no longer hidden behind any type of mask smiled slyly as the pictures she was printing came rolling out of her printer. These pictures were of a young Valerie Goodwright sleeping off a drugged powder shower from a trick treadmill inside a large birdcage. Precious evidence of the peril of a precious captive.
False Face, after attaching the scramblers, placed a call on the cell phone to the office of millionaire industrialist Waymon Goodwright. He would have some helpful information on the whereabouts of his daughter.
Waymon Goodwright sat alone in a spacious 80th floor office of the high-rise building he owned in the financial district of downtown Gotham City. As he mulled over the details of a proposed merger of the mass media branch of his financial empire with Blackmon Enterprises, the phone on his large oak desk rang...
Mr. Goodwright, a heavy-set Texan, grabbed the receiver and barreled out a brief greeting in his southern drawl, "Waymon Goodwright...and who am I talkin' to?"
A mechanical monotone automated voice answered Mr. Goodwright, "We have kidnapped your daughter, Valerie. If you wish to see her unharmed, you will meet our request for five million dollars...in small bills. Any attempt to contact the authorities on this matter will jeopardize Valerie's well being.."
The mood of the once-jovial Texan changed to anger as he shouted into the receiver, "Who the hell is this!?! Listen, I've got no time for jokes and this one sure as hell isn't funny..."
An automated voice interrupted him, "If you think this is a joke, simply check the photos I'm sending your fax machine..."
The fax machine in Mr. Goodwright's office began to squeal and stir with the arrival of a new fax. The ever helpful Blaze was sending pictures of a slumbering Valerie locked in a cage to her loving father. Waymon rushed over to the fax machine and his face grew flushed in panicked fright as he got a glimpse of his only daughter in grave peril.
A scared Goodwright retrieved the phone and replied in a cracking voice, "Please don't hurt my little girl. I'll do anything you ask... just please, I want her back safe."
The automated voice calmly replied, "Valerie is fine and will remain so as long as you comply with my demands. Five million in small bills...you'll have 24 hours to put that together...instructions on delivery will follow."
Before Mr. Goodwright could respond, the phone call was cut short by False Face. The mechanical voice-box False Face used to disguise his face was removed from the cell phone. The message had been sent and preparations for receiving Waymon Goodwright's cash would be made.
"You think Daddy Moneybucks got the message, False Face?," Blaze asked as she made her way to False Face's desk.
"Crystal clear, Blaze," False Face responded confidently, "Mr. Goodwright needed very little persuasion. I think we will find him a quite compliant millionaire industrialist."
"How can you be so sure he's not calling the cops right now?," Blaze asked cautiously.
"My dear Blaze, do you think my time disguised as a janitor in Mr. Goodwright's building was a total waste? Do you think my presence at Mr. Goodwright's latest dinner party in his mansion as Lord Butterworth was to simply sample the cavair?"
"I'm not sure I follow, False Face...," a confused Blaze replied.
"I've planted enough bugs around Mr. Waymon Goodwright that I know what he is doing before he does it. If he decides to try something tricky or tries to contact Gotham's finest, we'll be right there to call him on it. Once Goodwright knows we're watching his every move, he'll follow every one of our commands and carry them out to a T."
"Goodness, False Face," Blaze purred as she drew closer, "it seems you've thought of everything."
"I've left little to chance," False Face commented matter-of-factly, "but the whereabouts of Batwoman is still a great concern. With her brat partner Flamebird sleeping off my knockout powder upstairs, I just know she can't be far behind. We'll need to keep our eyes peeled and preapre for her eventual arrival."
False Face walked from his desk and made his way to the curtains concealing a small window. An obediant Blaze followed him over, wiggling her sexy body with each step. False Face peeled back the curtains and took a quick glance outside and saw nothing out of the ordinary.
"The entire building is rigged with alarms. Nothing will get in without us knowing about it," False Face mentioned to Blaze, almost to assure himself as much as his female partner.
False Face was growing nervous. He figured Batwoman had to be on his trail. Why else would her teen sidekick Flamebird already confront them before her eventual capture? The only unknown variable in his perfect heiress for ransom caper was a huge one, the appearance of the famed superheroine clad in her yellow spandex, Batwoman.
In a fit of nervous energy, False Face checked the scene outside the window once again. This time, something moving across the sky caught his attention. Approaching the building from the air was the shapely winging figure in white, the other famed superheroine of Gotham City, Dream Angel. False Face quickly covered the window and grabbed Blaze by the arm with a great urgency.
"Blaze," shouted an animated False Face, "it seems we have company."
"Batwoman?," Blaze asked in surprise.
"No, it seems that the other heroine in town is making an appearance. Are you familiar with Dream Angel?"
"Dream Angel?," Blaze replied with a greater surprise and panic, "How could she possibly be onto us? We can't fix a disguise to trick her! We have no time!"
"I have no idea how she got here, Blaze," False Face said calming himself a bit, "But we have to keep our heads and not panic. Even if I don't have the time to whip up a quickie disguise, there are enough gadgets and gizmos in my workshop to subdue our uninvited flying visitor. Now listen closely, my lovely, and follow my instructions...."
The flying white winged vision drew closer to Throne's Costume Shop as the Batwoman's homing device brought Dream Angel in closer. The bracelet tracking Batwoman's signal began to glow brighter and flash rapidly as she approached the seemingly abandoned building. There was no question in Dream Angel's mind, Batwoman had sent the signal from this location.
Dream Angel swooped in closer to examine the building and search for any sign of trouble. The young heroine scanned the building intently, looking for an peril or maybe a point of entry to investigate. Dream Angel slowed the flapping of her wings to allow her to drift down to take a closer look. Getting to a distance of only 7 feet off the ground, Dream Angel hovered at the front entrance of the abandoned shop and feverishly scanned the every space of the building for any sign of Batwoman or any sign of danger.
Suddenly, from the right side of the building, the villainous Blaze emerged in all her red-haired, black nyloned bodystockinged glory. She had what appeared to be a bazooka with a shoulder harness resting on her shoulder.
"Looking for me, Dream Angel?," Blaze taunted as she called up to the hovering Dream Angel.
A confrontation so brazen with a weapon seemingly on the ready froze Dream Angel for a brief moment as she quickly turned in the air to face Blaze. Seeing Blaze with what appeared to be a bazooka trained on her, Dream Angel's first instinct was to flee, fly out of there as soon as possible. The shock of the brazen confrontation and Dream Angel's attention focused squarely on Blaze gave False Face the brief moment he needed to strike.
Unseen by Dream Angel as Blaze called out to her, False Face emerged from the left side of the building. He too had what appeared to be a bazooka with a shoulder harness trained at the ready and pointed at Dream Angel. From behind the heroine before she could flee via the air, False Face squeezes the trigger of his form-fitting plaster gun. A goop of pink goo is discharged, hitting Dream Angel in the back at the base of her wings. The gummy goo splashed onto her back and wings with a sticky SPLORT! sound as the goo makes contact with the Dream Angel. Shock, panic, and surprise overwhelm the young heroine as she tries to turn her wing speed up to full strength to flee. The pink plaster goo has coated her back, gumming up the mechanism operating the wings and even wrapping around to bind her arms at her sides as she struggles. Dream Angel, the sexy vision in white, looks as if she's been attacked by a giant gob of pink bubble gum, constricting her wings and wrapping her arms to her body from behind.
A greatly pleased False Face smiled widely at the sight of the trapped superheroine and loudly shouted out to his partner holding a similiar looking device..."NOW BLAZE!"
Dream Angel was too busy wrestling inside of goop of sticky goo and trying to get her gummed-up wings to fly to notice the bazooka totting Blaze squeezing the trigger of her gun. The hovering Dream Angel floated five feet in the air and was a sitting duck for Blaze's attack. Blaze's gun released a blast of compressed air that shot forth a large weighed net. The struggling Dream Angel was too occupied with False Face's plaster attack to even try to dodge the net as it unfolded in midair to ensnare the trapped spandex-clad heroine. The net scored a direct hit, opening perfectly as it approached Dream Girl and wrapping her up neatly.
Dream Angel, unable to fly and move her arms from the pink goo that hit her from behind, was unable to stay airborne as the heavy net hit her and wrapped her up from the front. A short drop to the ground followed as Dream Angel hit the pavement from a four foot fall with a dull thud. The beautiful Boomer's Girl turned flying superheroine struggled in her binds of False Face's pink plaster and under the cover of the heavy net. Under the net, the white and pink mass inside struggled helplessly as she was ensnared under the heavy net cover.
"Absolutely outstanding, my sweet Blaze," False Face exclaimed triumphantly as he and his villainous henchwoman approached the squirming struggling superheroine, "I believe you're earned your wings, Blaze."
Blaze stood in sexy splendour with her left arm shouldering the net gun and her right hand on her shapely hips, "I believe your right, False Face. Should I prepare the operating table?"
"Yes, my lovely, the wings of the Dream Angel will be removed from this lovely young superheroine, surgically if necessary," False Face announced in an evil tone, "but first you must prepare the patient for the operation."
Blaze laughed aloud as she set the large net gun to the ground. She fashioned a sexy strut over to the fallen wrapped struggling Dream Angel. Blaze bend down to survey the heroine bound in a net and pink goop and locate her lovely masked face. As she did this, Blaze drew a hairpin from her red hair- a hairpin with a small bulb at the base that Blaze craddled in her hand.
"With pleasure, False Face, sweetie," Blaze cooed as she pointed the hairpin into the face of the squirming Dream Angel and squeezed the bulb, emitting a blast of False Face's green sleeping powder right across the white masked eyes and nose of the fallen heroine. Already exhausted from her struggle with the goop and the net and still stricken with panic, it didn't take long for Dream Angel to drift into dreamland as her eyes fluttered quickly and her pretty powder coated face went from panic to complete sleeping relaxation.
"Sweet dreams, Dream Angel," Blaze hissed with a lusty laugh.
The villainous duo scooped up the entangled heroine and quickly brought her inside the lair of False Face. Soon preparations would be complete to perform a full wing extraction from Dream Angel. The wings of an angel would soon be clipped and the property of the devishish Blaze.
TO BE CONTINUED....
False Face sat at a desk centered in the middle of his evil cluttered workshop. A simple cell phone and fax machine were set before him as he attached computer chips that would act as scramblers on both devices, making any attempt to trace any transmissions from either impossible. Blaze, in a black nylon bodystocking that accented every one of her curves, was printing digital photos from a disk at a personal computer. The red-haired vixen whose lovely face was no longer hidden behind any type of mask smiled slyly as the pictures she was printing came rolling out of her printer. These pictures were of a young Valerie Goodwright sleeping off a drugged powder shower from a trick treadmill inside a large birdcage. Precious evidence of the peril of a precious captive.
False Face, after attaching the scramblers, placed a call on the cell phone to the office of millionaire industrialist Waymon Goodwright. He would have some helpful information on the whereabouts of his daughter.
Waymon Goodwright sat alone in a spacious 80th floor office of the high-rise building he owned in the financial district of downtown Gotham City. As he mulled over the details of a proposed merger of the mass media branch of his financial empire with Blackmon Enterprises, the phone on his large oak desk rang...
Mr. Goodwright, a heavy-set Texan, grabbed the receiver and barreled out a brief greeting in his southern drawl, "Waymon Goodwright...and who am I talkin' to?"
A mechanical monotone automated voice answered Mr. Goodwright, "We have kidnapped your daughter, Valerie. If you wish to see her unharmed, you will meet our request for five million dollars...in small bills. Any attempt to contact the authorities on this matter will jeopardize Valerie's well being.."
The mood of the once-jovial Texan changed to anger as he shouted into the receiver, "Who the hell is this!?! Listen, I've got no time for jokes and this one sure as hell isn't funny..."
An automated voice interrupted him, "If you think this is a joke, simply check the photos I'm sending your fax machine..."
The fax machine in Mr. Goodwright's office began to squeal and stir with the arrival of a new fax. The ever helpful Blaze was sending pictures of a slumbering Valerie locked in a cage to her loving father. Waymon rushed over to the fax machine and his face grew flushed in panicked fright as he got a glimpse of his only daughter in grave peril.
A scared Goodwright retrieved the phone and replied in a cracking voice, "Please don't hurt my little girl. I'll do anything you ask... just please, I want her back safe."
The automated voice calmly replied, "Valerie is fine and will remain so as long as you comply with my demands. Five million in small bills...you'll have 24 hours to put that together...instructions on delivery will follow."
Before Mr. Goodwright could respond, the phone call was cut short by False Face. The mechanical voice-box False Face used to disguise his face was removed from the cell phone. The message had been sent and preparations for receiving Waymon Goodwright's cash would be made.
"You think Daddy Moneybucks got the message, False Face?," Blaze asked as she made her way to False Face's desk.
"Crystal clear, Blaze," False Face responded confidently, "Mr. Goodwright needed very little persuasion. I think we will find him a quite compliant millionaire industrialist."
"How can you be so sure he's not calling the cops right now?," Blaze asked cautiously.
"My dear Blaze, do you think my time disguised as a janitor in Mr. Goodwright's building was a total waste? Do you think my presence at Mr. Goodwright's latest dinner party in his mansion as Lord Butterworth was to simply sample the cavair?"
"I'm not sure I follow, False Face...," a confused Blaze replied.
"I've planted enough bugs around Mr. Waymon Goodwright that I know what he is doing before he does it. If he decides to try something tricky or tries to contact Gotham's finest, we'll be right there to call him on it. Once Goodwright knows we're watching his every move, he'll follow every one of our commands and carry them out to a T."
"Goodness, False Face," Blaze purred as she drew closer, "it seems you've thought of everything."
"I've left little to chance," False Face commented matter-of-factly, "but the whereabouts of Batwoman is still a great concern. With her brat partner Flamebird sleeping off my knockout powder upstairs, I just know she can't be far behind. We'll need to keep our eyes peeled and preapre for her eventual arrival."
False Face walked from his desk and made his way to the curtains concealing a small window. An obediant Blaze followed him over, wiggling her sexy body with each step. False Face peeled back the curtains and took a quick glance outside and saw nothing out of the ordinary.
"The entire building is rigged with alarms. Nothing will get in without us knowing about it," False Face mentioned to Blaze, almost to assure himself as much as his female partner.
False Face was growing nervous. He figured Batwoman had to be on his trail. Why else would her teen sidekick Flamebird already confront them before her eventual capture? The only unknown variable in his perfect heiress for ransom caper was a huge one, the appearance of the famed superheroine clad in her yellow spandex, Batwoman.
In a fit of nervous energy, False Face checked the scene outside the window once again. This time, something moving across the sky caught his attention. Approaching the building from the air was the shapely winging figure in white, the other famed superheroine of Gotham City, Dream Angel. False Face quickly covered the window and grabbed Blaze by the arm with a great urgency.
"Blaze," shouted an animated False Face, "it seems we have company."
"Batwoman?," Blaze asked in surprise.
"No, it seems that the other heroine in town is making an appearance. Are you familiar with Dream Angel?"
"Dream Angel?," Blaze replied with a greater surprise and panic, "How could she possibly be onto us? We can't fix a disguise to trick her! We have no time!"
"I have no idea how she got here, Blaze," False Face said calming himself a bit, "But we have to keep our heads and not panic. Even if I don't have the time to whip up a quickie disguise, there are enough gadgets and gizmos in my workshop to subdue our uninvited flying visitor. Now listen closely, my lovely, and follow my instructions...."
The flying white winged vision drew closer to Throne's Costume Shop as the Batwoman's homing device brought Dream Angel in closer. The bracelet tracking Batwoman's signal began to glow brighter and flash rapidly as she approached the seemingly abandoned building. There was no question in Dream Angel's mind, Batwoman had sent the signal from this location.
Dream Angel swooped in closer to examine the building and search for any sign of trouble. The young heroine scanned the building intently, looking for an peril or maybe a point of entry to investigate. Dream Angel slowed the flapping of her wings to allow her to drift down to take a closer look. Getting to a distance of only 7 feet off the ground, Dream Angel hovered at the front entrance of the abandoned shop and feverishly scanned the every space of the building for any sign of Batwoman or any sign of danger.
Suddenly, from the right side of the building, the villainous Blaze emerged in all her red-haired, black nyloned bodystockinged glory. She had what appeared to be a bazooka with a shoulder harness resting on her shoulder.
"Looking for me, Dream Angel?," Blaze taunted as she called up to the hovering Dream Angel.
A confrontation so brazen with a weapon seemingly on the ready froze Dream Angel for a brief moment as she quickly turned in the air to face Blaze. Seeing Blaze with what appeared to be a bazooka trained on her, Dream Angel's first instinct was to flee, fly out of there as soon as possible. The shock of the brazen confrontation and Dream Angel's attention focused squarely on Blaze gave False Face the brief moment he needed to strike.
Unseen by Dream Angel as Blaze called out to her, False Face emerged from the left side of the building. He too had what appeared to be a bazooka with a shoulder harness trained at the ready and pointed at Dream Angel. From behind the heroine before she could flee via the air, False Face squeezes the trigger of his form-fitting plaster gun. A goop of pink goo is discharged, hitting Dream Angel in the back at the base of her wings. The gummy goo splashed onto her back and wings with a sticky SPLORT! sound as the goo makes contact with the Dream Angel. Shock, panic, and surprise overwhelm the young heroine as she tries to turn her wing speed up to full strength to flee. The pink plaster goo has coated her back, gumming up the mechanism operating the wings and even wrapping around to bind her arms at her sides as she struggles. Dream Angel, the sexy vision in white, looks as if she's been attacked by a giant gob of pink bubble gum, constricting her wings and wrapping her arms to her body from behind.
A greatly pleased False Face smiled widely at the sight of the trapped superheroine and loudly shouted out to his partner holding a similiar looking device..."NOW BLAZE!"
Dream Angel was too busy wrestling inside of goop of sticky goo and trying to get her gummed-up wings to fly to notice the bazooka totting Blaze squeezing the trigger of her gun. The hovering Dream Angel floated five feet in the air and was a sitting duck for Blaze's attack. Blaze's gun released a blast of compressed air that shot forth a large weighed net. The struggling Dream Angel was too occupied with False Face's plaster attack to even try to dodge the net as it unfolded in midair to ensnare the trapped spandex-clad heroine. The net scored a direct hit, opening perfectly as it approached Dream Girl and wrapping her up neatly.
Dream Angel, unable to fly and move her arms from the pink goo that hit her from behind, was unable to stay airborne as the heavy net hit her and wrapped her up from the front. A short drop to the ground followed as Dream Angel hit the pavement from a four foot fall with a dull thud. The beautiful Boomer's Girl turned flying superheroine struggled in her binds of False Face's pink plaster and under the cover of the heavy net. Under the net, the white and pink mass inside struggled helplessly as she was ensnared under the heavy net cover.
"Absolutely outstanding, my sweet Blaze," False Face exclaimed triumphantly as he and his villainous henchwoman approached the squirming struggling superheroine, "I believe you're earned your wings, Blaze."
Blaze stood in sexy splendour with her left arm shouldering the net gun and her right hand on her shapely hips, "I believe your right, False Face. Should I prepare the operating table?"
"Yes, my lovely, the wings of the Dream Angel will be removed from this lovely young superheroine, surgically if necessary," False Face announced in an evil tone, "but first you must prepare the patient for the operation."
Blaze laughed aloud as she set the large net gun to the ground. She fashioned a sexy strut over to the fallen wrapped struggling Dream Angel. Blaze bend down to survey the heroine bound in a net and pink goop and locate her lovely masked face. As she did this, Blaze drew a hairpin from her red hair- a hairpin with a small bulb at the base that Blaze craddled in her hand.
"With pleasure, False Face, sweetie," Blaze cooed as she pointed the hairpin into the face of the squirming Dream Angel and squeezed the bulb, emitting a blast of False Face's green sleeping powder right across the white masked eyes and nose of the fallen heroine. Already exhausted from her struggle with the goop and the net and still stricken with panic, it didn't take long for Dream Angel to drift into dreamland as her eyes fluttered quickly and her pretty powder coated face went from panic to complete sleeping relaxation.
"Sweet dreams, Dream Angel," Blaze hissed with a lusty laugh.
The villainous duo scooped up the entangled heroine and quickly brought her inside the lair of False Face. Soon preparations would be complete to perform a full wing extraction from Dream Angel. The wings of an angel would soon be clipped and the property of the devishish Blaze.
TO BE CONTINUED....
-
superpics4les
- Elder Member
- Posts: 493
- Joined: 19 years ago
- Location: Indiana USA
Franco:
I've been anxiously waiting for the next installment of this story. I love the homage you've paid to the original Batman show with the name of False Face's hideout, a tribute to Malachi Throne, the actor who played False Face. Nicely done! =D>
I also love your new character Dream Angel. I just hope she can somehow escape the evil clutches of False Face and Blaze. The story is great and I look forward to more of the same! Great Work! 8)
I've been anxiously waiting for the next installment of this story. I love the homage you've paid to the original Batman show with the name of False Face's hideout, a tribute to Malachi Throne, the actor who played False Face. Nicely done! =D>
I also love your new character Dream Angel. I just hope she can somehow escape the evil clutches of False Face and Blaze. The story is great and I look forward to more of the same! Great Work! 8)
**my apologies for the delay in updating the story. I'm truly sorry, but pressing matters in real life kind of zapped my creative energies**
On the first floor of the abandoned Throne's Costume Shop, a lovely winged vision in white sleeps peacefully while dire peril dances around her, peril in the person of False Face and his malicious moll Blaze. Tiffany Nicole in her curvy crimefighting guise as Dream Angel lies on a operating gurney at the center of False Face's workshop. She lies face down and secured by nylon straps. These straps snuggly fit over her ankles, upper thighs, waist, and upper back. Dream Angel's glorious wings and bodacious behind figure prominently as the helplessly bound heroine slumbers, obvilous to the danger she now finds herself in. A clear respirator mask is fitted over her lovely nose and mouth as False Face's sleeping powder is pumped in moderate doses to keep the Dream Angel docile.
Blaze, delighted at the sight of yet another super captive, gleefully runs a deliberate black gloved finger up the back of Dream Angel's nylon covered thighs, running up to her ample spandex covered rump. False Face stands a few feet away, preparing his crude cutting tools and adjusting the tanks that supply his dream dust into the mask of the bound heroine in white.
"Calling Doctor False Face," Blaze shouted with a hands-on-hips pose towering over the prone Dream Angel, "Your patient has been prepped and is ready for surgery."
"You make a fine nurse in that black bodystocking, my sweet Blaze," False Face cooed as he pulled a pair of rubber gloves over his hands, "I'm afraid Dream Angel is in need of a wing extraction."
"...And soon Blaze will be the winged flying wonder of Gotham City," Blaze exclaimed excitedly rubbing her gloved hands together, "ohhh...the freedom of flight...we'll be unstoppable!"
"Exactly, but our young flying captive will be out for a good while," False Face replied seriously, "A simple matter of making the final contact with Mr. Goodwright about his daughter's best interests will come first."
"Owww...c'mon, sweetie," Blaze begged in a somewhat mock tone, "Can't we pluck the wings off the Dream Angel first?"
"Shortly, my dear,very shortly" False Face said smiling, "The final plans must be communicated to our anxious multi-millionaire."
False Face, following by the sexy Blaze, made his way to a laptop computer on his desk. From here, all the bugging devices he planted in Waymon Goodwright's office could be monitored. A quick keystroke revealed that none of Mr. Goodwright's phone lines had been used to contact the police. Another keystroke brought back a streaming video hookup with the cameras planted in the millionaire's office. Mr. Goodwright was still in his office and a scan of auxilary communication devices indicated that the industrialist had been a man of his word, no one had been contacted concerning his daughter Valerie's kidnapping and he was waiting for further instructions.
"Outstanding. Our Mr. Goodwright has been compliant little victim," False Face said softly to himself, "I guess I won't keep him in suspense any longer."
False Face used his laptop to send a wireless communication to a device rigged to a pay phone in downtown Gotham, a good 15 miles from Throne's Costume Shop. This device would contact Mr. Goodwright's mian phone line and allow False Face to simply type his instructions that would be relayed from the converter into the pay phone's mouthpiece. No need to take chances, the villianous master of disguise thought, in case any type of tracer had been attached to Mr. Goodwright's phone.
A quick buzz from the phone on Waymon Goodwright's desk startled the panicked father as he nervously reached for the receiver.
"H..Hello?," Mr. Goodwright stammered.
False Face's nimble fingers moved swiftly over his keyboard as he prepared a brief set of instructions. From a simple strike of his "enter" key, a mechanical voice was triggered to give Mr. Goodwright his marching orders.
"Do not say anything further," the monotone computer voice started, "I see you have followed my requests and that has kept your Valerie safe and sound for now. Prepare ten million dollars in equal denominations of 5's, 10's, and 20's and have them delivered in a plain brown satchel to the information booth at the center of Gotham Central Park. The money is due at 9 p.m. tonight sharp. Any outside interference or any failure to comply to these demands and you will put the safety of your daughter in great peril."
Mr. Goodwright wanted to ask about his daughter's present well-being, shout at the animal that held his teenaged daughter hostage, and curse the fates that had brought him this ill favor. All of these emotions ran through his terrified mind, but his better judgement kept him quiet as ordered. Only a heavy labored pattern of breathing could be detected from his line.
"False Face, honey," Blaze interrupting False Face's train of thought as he gazed intensely at his computer, "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Now what would that be?," an annoyed False Face snapped at his sexy asssitant.
"A courier? Who do you want to deliver this satchel of ill-begotten green?," Blaze asked rhetorically as her evil eyes looked upward in mock thought, "Isn't there a superheroine we've been waiting for? Wouldn't she make a lovely spandex super delivery girl?"
False Face's mood turned from annoyed to delighted in the mere turn of a Blaze phrase.
"Oh my lovely genius," False Face almost panted in an excited heavy breath, "Not only can we pin down the whereabouts of Batwoman, we can also set a trap for the elusive yellow spandex dare-doll."
"Exactly, False Face," Blaze said calmly as she rubbed the shoulders of the seated False Face, "We get the money and the perfect opportunity to kidnap Batwoman too."
"...And if our super-slut is hot on our trail," False Face added, "this diversion will cool her search."
False Face quickly reconnected his computer link to Mr. Goodwright phone via the pay phone. A quick scramble of keys sent the awaiting Mr. Goodwright one last direction.
"Mr. Goodwright...," the mechanically cool voice stated, "one further instruction...contact Police Chief Roberts...tell him of your daughter's present plight...instruct him to have Gotham's premier superheroine Batwoman deliver my ten million...tell him if anyone besides Batwoman is in a 3 mile radius of the drop at Central Park tonight, you will never see Valerie again."
False Face closed the cover of his laptop and beamed with pride and happiness. How sweet his reward would be and how his faithful Blaze had engineered not only the ransom recovery, but the perfect trap for Gotham's most famous superheroine. He rose from his chair and gently wrapped his arms around Blaze's waist. False Face planted a soft kiss on the neck of the delicious Blaze as he pulled her near and breathed a quick message into her ear.
"Beautiful Blaze, what would I do without you?," he purred, "Please check on the status of our captives upstairs while I prepare your reward, the wings of an angel, the Dream Angel."
"Absolutely, darling," Blaze purred back into his ear, "The thought of kidnapping both Batwoman and Flamebird...imagine what the city dolts will pay for the safety of their precious crime-fighting dynamic duo."
The corrupted couple broke their embrace as Blaze made her way to the stairs leading to the second floor. False Face walked back to the bound Dream Angel, but shouted a quick instruction to his heavenly henchwoman.
"Don't forget your special hairpin, Blaze," False Face ordered sternly, "If any of our captives have awakened, a fresh dusting of my knockout powder will be in order."
"You worry too much, lover," Blaze exclaimed with a confident laugh as she held the KO powder emitting hairpin in the palm of her silky gloved hand, "I'm all over it."
As False Face made the final preparations for the evil operation he planned for sweet Tiffany Nicole a/k/a Dream Angel, Blaze made her way up the stairs to check on their kidnapped quarry.
Blaze clicked on the lights to view the dimly lit storage area. A scan of the room first revealed the sleeping red spandex form of Flamebird in her large birdcage. The lights shimmered off the shiny nylon pantyhose on Flamebird's shapely young legs. Her short blonde hair hung a bit over her eye mask and a peaceful look of calm was on the lovely masked face of the sleeping Girl Wonder. A look to the right revealed Valerie's large cage and she too was still sleeping off the effects of False Face's somnambulent sand. Valerie's lovely body in blue spandex and tights was curled in a ball as she dreamt of things far more pleasant than her current peril. All was going well and according to plan until Blaze cast an eye to the support beam the teacher, Ms. Jessica Hansen, was tied to. There was no sign of the sleeping teacher in green leotards and tights. In fact, there was only a pile of rope left in the area where Jessica Hansen was secured. A panicked Blaze shot looks all around to find the whereabouts of the kidnapped teacher. The scan revealed an open window with a slight breeze blowing into the second-story storage area. Blaze ran to the window and looked about at the street below. There was no sign of anyone, especially not the young woman Blaze searched for.
A startled and shaken Blaze looked about the storage area and found nothing. A concerned shout came quickly to Blaze's shockingly full lips...."False Face! The teacher has escaped!!!!"
TO BE CONTINUED...
On the first floor of the abandoned Throne's Costume Shop, a lovely winged vision in white sleeps peacefully while dire peril dances around her, peril in the person of False Face and his malicious moll Blaze. Tiffany Nicole in her curvy crimefighting guise as Dream Angel lies on a operating gurney at the center of False Face's workshop. She lies face down and secured by nylon straps. These straps snuggly fit over her ankles, upper thighs, waist, and upper back. Dream Angel's glorious wings and bodacious behind figure prominently as the helplessly bound heroine slumbers, obvilous to the danger she now finds herself in. A clear respirator mask is fitted over her lovely nose and mouth as False Face's sleeping powder is pumped in moderate doses to keep the Dream Angel docile.
Blaze, delighted at the sight of yet another super captive, gleefully runs a deliberate black gloved finger up the back of Dream Angel's nylon covered thighs, running up to her ample spandex covered rump. False Face stands a few feet away, preparing his crude cutting tools and adjusting the tanks that supply his dream dust into the mask of the bound heroine in white.
"Calling Doctor False Face," Blaze shouted with a hands-on-hips pose towering over the prone Dream Angel, "Your patient has been prepped and is ready for surgery."
"You make a fine nurse in that black bodystocking, my sweet Blaze," False Face cooed as he pulled a pair of rubber gloves over his hands, "I'm afraid Dream Angel is in need of a wing extraction."
"...And soon Blaze will be the winged flying wonder of Gotham City," Blaze exclaimed excitedly rubbing her gloved hands together, "ohhh...the freedom of flight...we'll be unstoppable!"
"Exactly, but our young flying captive will be out for a good while," False Face replied seriously, "A simple matter of making the final contact with Mr. Goodwright about his daughter's best interests will come first."
"Owww...c'mon, sweetie," Blaze begged in a somewhat mock tone, "Can't we pluck the wings off the Dream Angel first?"
"Shortly, my dear,very shortly" False Face said smiling, "The final plans must be communicated to our anxious multi-millionaire."
False Face, following by the sexy Blaze, made his way to a laptop computer on his desk. From here, all the bugging devices he planted in Waymon Goodwright's office could be monitored. A quick keystroke revealed that none of Mr. Goodwright's phone lines had been used to contact the police. Another keystroke brought back a streaming video hookup with the cameras planted in the millionaire's office. Mr. Goodwright was still in his office and a scan of auxilary communication devices indicated that the industrialist had been a man of his word, no one had been contacted concerning his daughter Valerie's kidnapping and he was waiting for further instructions.
"Outstanding. Our Mr. Goodwright has been compliant little victim," False Face said softly to himself, "I guess I won't keep him in suspense any longer."
False Face used his laptop to send a wireless communication to a device rigged to a pay phone in downtown Gotham, a good 15 miles from Throne's Costume Shop. This device would contact Mr. Goodwright's mian phone line and allow False Face to simply type his instructions that would be relayed from the converter into the pay phone's mouthpiece. No need to take chances, the villianous master of disguise thought, in case any type of tracer had been attached to Mr. Goodwright's phone.
A quick buzz from the phone on Waymon Goodwright's desk startled the panicked father as he nervously reached for the receiver.
"H..Hello?," Mr. Goodwright stammered.
False Face's nimble fingers moved swiftly over his keyboard as he prepared a brief set of instructions. From a simple strike of his "enter" key, a mechanical voice was triggered to give Mr. Goodwright his marching orders.
"Do not say anything further," the monotone computer voice started, "I see you have followed my requests and that has kept your Valerie safe and sound for now. Prepare ten million dollars in equal denominations of 5's, 10's, and 20's and have them delivered in a plain brown satchel to the information booth at the center of Gotham Central Park. The money is due at 9 p.m. tonight sharp. Any outside interference or any failure to comply to these demands and you will put the safety of your daughter in great peril."
Mr. Goodwright wanted to ask about his daughter's present well-being, shout at the animal that held his teenaged daughter hostage, and curse the fates that had brought him this ill favor. All of these emotions ran through his terrified mind, but his better judgement kept him quiet as ordered. Only a heavy labored pattern of breathing could be detected from his line.
"False Face, honey," Blaze interrupting False Face's train of thought as he gazed intensely at his computer, "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Now what would that be?," an annoyed False Face snapped at his sexy asssitant.
"A courier? Who do you want to deliver this satchel of ill-begotten green?," Blaze asked rhetorically as her evil eyes looked upward in mock thought, "Isn't there a superheroine we've been waiting for? Wouldn't she make a lovely spandex super delivery girl?"
False Face's mood turned from annoyed to delighted in the mere turn of a Blaze phrase.
"Oh my lovely genius," False Face almost panted in an excited heavy breath, "Not only can we pin down the whereabouts of Batwoman, we can also set a trap for the elusive yellow spandex dare-doll."
"Exactly, False Face," Blaze said calmly as she rubbed the shoulders of the seated False Face, "We get the money and the perfect opportunity to kidnap Batwoman too."
"...And if our super-slut is hot on our trail," False Face added, "this diversion will cool her search."
False Face quickly reconnected his computer link to Mr. Goodwright phone via the pay phone. A quick scramble of keys sent the awaiting Mr. Goodwright one last direction.
"Mr. Goodwright...," the mechanically cool voice stated, "one further instruction...contact Police Chief Roberts...tell him of your daughter's present plight...instruct him to have Gotham's premier superheroine Batwoman deliver my ten million...tell him if anyone besides Batwoman is in a 3 mile radius of the drop at Central Park tonight, you will never see Valerie again."
False Face closed the cover of his laptop and beamed with pride and happiness. How sweet his reward would be and how his faithful Blaze had engineered not only the ransom recovery, but the perfect trap for Gotham's most famous superheroine. He rose from his chair and gently wrapped his arms around Blaze's waist. False Face planted a soft kiss on the neck of the delicious Blaze as he pulled her near and breathed a quick message into her ear.
"Beautiful Blaze, what would I do without you?," he purred, "Please check on the status of our captives upstairs while I prepare your reward, the wings of an angel, the Dream Angel."
"Absolutely, darling," Blaze purred back into his ear, "The thought of kidnapping both Batwoman and Flamebird...imagine what the city dolts will pay for the safety of their precious crime-fighting dynamic duo."
The corrupted couple broke their embrace as Blaze made her way to the stairs leading to the second floor. False Face walked back to the bound Dream Angel, but shouted a quick instruction to his heavenly henchwoman.
"Don't forget your special hairpin, Blaze," False Face ordered sternly, "If any of our captives have awakened, a fresh dusting of my knockout powder will be in order."
"You worry too much, lover," Blaze exclaimed with a confident laugh as she held the KO powder emitting hairpin in the palm of her silky gloved hand, "I'm all over it."
As False Face made the final preparations for the evil operation he planned for sweet Tiffany Nicole a/k/a Dream Angel, Blaze made her way up the stairs to check on their kidnapped quarry.
Blaze clicked on the lights to view the dimly lit storage area. A scan of the room first revealed the sleeping red spandex form of Flamebird in her large birdcage. The lights shimmered off the shiny nylon pantyhose on Flamebird's shapely young legs. Her short blonde hair hung a bit over her eye mask and a peaceful look of calm was on the lovely masked face of the sleeping Girl Wonder. A look to the right revealed Valerie's large cage and she too was still sleeping off the effects of False Face's somnambulent sand. Valerie's lovely body in blue spandex and tights was curled in a ball as she dreamt of things far more pleasant than her current peril. All was going well and according to plan until Blaze cast an eye to the support beam the teacher, Ms. Jessica Hansen, was tied to. There was no sign of the sleeping teacher in green leotards and tights. In fact, there was only a pile of rope left in the area where Jessica Hansen was secured. A panicked Blaze shot looks all around to find the whereabouts of the kidnapped teacher. The scan revealed an open window with a slight breeze blowing into the second-story storage area. Blaze ran to the window and looked about at the street below. There was no sign of anyone, especially not the young woman Blaze searched for.
A startled and shaken Blaze looked about the storage area and found nothing. A concerned shout came quickly to Blaze's shockingly full lips...."False Face! The teacher has escaped!!!!"
TO BE CONTINUED...
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superpics4les
- Elder Member
- Posts: 493
- Joined: 19 years ago
- Location: Indiana USA
Yeah! We finally get to see Batwoman in action! Franco, I wish you could have been around to write for the '60's Batman show, especially the last season! The only saving grace during that season were a very few decent stories and Batgirl & the villainesses wrapped in tight lurex or spandex! :-D
Nice job, man! Can't wait 'til Batwoman shows up! 8)
Nice job, man! Can't wait 'til Batwoman shows up! 8)