SUPERSLUT SUITS UP!
by Annabeth Lake
SUPERSLUT SUITS UP!
Annabeth Lake
Published by Annabeth Lake at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 Annabeth Lake
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters should be assumed to be entirely fictional and over the age of 18.
~~~
First, her glasses came off. Then her stilettos. Then her starched button-up blouse. Then…
She watched herself in the mirror as she unfastened her bra. Maybe it was egotistical, but she loved seeing her own transformation. The dowdy secretary who spent all day filing Craven Hawthorne’s papers and answering his phones disappeared before her very eyes, leaving in her wake a sleek, sexy siren. The loose, plain Jane clothes she wore to work hid so much of her body. Her arms and legs were harder and stronger than they appeared as she scuttled about the office all day, her breasts bigger, her ass rounder. More importantly, though her daytime personality was meek and servile, her nocturnal alter ego had an insatiable appetite for two things -- justice and sex.
Outside, the sun was setting. The evening air promised a night of crime, excitement, and fucking.
She’d begun her lusty war against Sexopolis’s criminal underworld a year ago. Since then, she’d been responsible for the arrests of almost two dozen menaces to society, criminals whose intellect, abilities, and sexual prowess made them far too much for the city’s police to handle. Only she could outmatch these supercriminals’ sex drives, and only she could tempt them to their demises.
As Superslut, she would do anything for the great city of Sexopolis -- oral, anal, missionary, doggy style, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, diving crocodile, any position at all. She had given blowjobs while hanging upside down from her slutrope. She had placed bound villainesses on the handlebars of her slutbike to lick their pussies (if she hadn’t been Sexopolis’s saving hero, she would’ve gotten a few tickets for that by now!). Once she had even allowed the anal-loving, hat-wearing supercriminal Cardinal Cum to pound her in the ass right in front of the Sexopolis Police Department, where she delivered him to the waiting cops only minutes after he’d spurted into her. It was a physically taxing and sometimes thankless job, one that required massive amounts of lingerie, toys, and lube, but she was proud to answer the call for a real hero in the city.
Her bra dropped to the floor, exposing her full, pendulous breasts the mirror. Next she stepped out of her panties. Her body was ready to become that of Superslut, Sexopolis’s great femme fatale.
She prepared herself for her night’s work by masturbating. Sometimes she used a vibrator or another toy, but other times her hands were enough. Tonight was one of those nights. Lying naked on the bed, she opened her legs and ran her fingers lightly over her shaved pussy, playing with the smooth skin that led down to her sex. She always loved the way she felt after a shave. The moisturizing cream she’d applied after her shower made her outer labia feel unbelievably tender. She just rubbed the outside for a while, readying her pussy for what it was about to get. When she was properly wet, she slid two fingers down between her swelling lips. “Ohhhh.” The moan was louder than she’d realized it would be. God, she was ready for a fuck. With the fingers of one hand she worked her pussy, while the others flicked her exposed clit. The little bead of flesh swelled more with each touch. If her work led to an arrest tonight, she hoped her enemy would be one of the ones who knew how to work a clitoris. Too many of them knew their way around a bank vault but not a woman’s body, and tonight, she didn’t have the patience to play teacher.
She moved her hips against her hand. Her fingers quickened. She wouldn’t allow herself to get off just yet, but she wasn’t ready to stop either.
A light hit her face and she opened her eyes. In the night sky, high above the city’s tallest skyscrapers, a white circle glowed. At the circle’s center was the dark shape of a penis and balls. The Slut Signal. The police were calling for her. Sexopolis needed her help.
Well, fuck. It looked like, whether she was fully prepared or not, her work here was done. Her sweaty, throbbing, scratching, biting, dripping wet work in the city must begin.
Giving her pussy one last, slow, loving rub, Superslut rose from the bed and went to the statue of a naked man that stood next to her mirror. She grabbed the statue’s erect cock. A locking mechanism within the statue clicked, and a panel on the wall beside it slid away to reveal a hidden chamber. Naked, Superslut stepped inside, and emerged moments later with her hair perfectly coiffed and her sexy eye mask in place, holding the item that would complete her transformation -- the super slutty Superslut suit.
She loved the feel of the slick black latex as she pulled it up over her body. It was cool from having been in the secret room all day, and the chill from it made her dark pink nipples harden into dangerously sexy points. She ran her hands over herself as she manipulated the latex suit into place, making sure each zipper was where it should be. She had to admit that she felt damn good in the suit. She gave her nipples a quick pinch and zipped her breasts under the latex. Once she’d stepped into her stiletto-heeled boots and fastened on her utility belt -- which held, among other things, the slutrope, cock-shaped slutarangs, and a bottle of her special formula super-warming slutlube -- she was ready for another night of crime-fucking.
***
Commissioner Hardon always waited for her on the roof of the Sexopolis Police Department. She recognized his silhouette as she repelled, via the slutrope, onto the building. He was a tall and broad man, older than she was by a couple of decades. His signature trench coat flapped lightly in the wind.
“What do you have for me tonight, Commissioner?” Her high-heeled boots clicked on the concrete roof.
Hardon was always startled to see her. One would think that after a year of rooftop meetings he would have grown accustomed to her arriving behind him, but each time he turned to her with a look of shocked confusion. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat and shoved his hands into the deep pockets of his trench coat. “You’re looking good tonight, Superslut.”