Powergirl Makeover Vignette

Peter Smith was working late and alone on his new project when the company's CEO walked into his lab: Karen Starr. He was just starting to wonder what she was doing in the engineering lab at midnight on a Saturday when she started tearing off her clothes.

HIs brain froze as her jacket, blouse and skirt flew by his head. He caught a glimpse of her very large bra when she seemed to blur. He blinked, and then blinked again when he found himself staring at the amazing Powergirl. An alien from beyond the stars, and possibly the most powerful woman in the universe.

Astoundingly, she still wore the face of his CEO. That puzzled him for a long half second, and then reality crashed in on him.

"Holy shit..." he breathed. He tried desperately not to stare at the large cut-out in her white uniform, but she didn't seem offended when it took him a few seconds to tear his eyes away. His pulse was pounding.

"OK, Mr. Smith, you've been bitching all over the Net, so why don' t you tell me what you really don't like about this costume," she demanded. "I mean, you claim you know about Kryptonian fashion or whatever."

Peter gulped as he remembered some the really negative comments he'd made on Facebook about Powergirl, and then swallowed hard. Jesus! He was going to have to defend himself in front of her? Shit! He wouldn't have said half that if he'd thought it would come to this. Even worse, that Powergirl was somehow the same woman who had just hired him at an outrageously high salary.

She sighed as he just stood there waiting while he gasped like a fish out of water. that "deer in the headlights" look in his eyes. "Look, I really want to know," she said softly. "I'm not going to fire you or vaporize you; probably won't even punch your lights out. I need you here."

Peter's felt his hands shaking as she tried to scrape together some courage. Half of him was screaming inside "this is so cool!" His other half wanted to crawl under a rock. Fortunately, the part of him that stood in the middle told him not to wimp out. Did he believe all the things he'd said on-line? Well, mostly.

His mouth started moving before he could think it through, eyes staring at the way her feet bobbed around a bit in the air currents. "What the hell," he muttered. "Dead is dead." He lifted his head to look into her eyes. "Your costume has problems, as I've said, but a few changes would fix it. For one, ditch that cape. It looks ridiculous these days and its gotta get in the way."

She reached up to grip the rope that secured it, her narrowing eyes fixed on his.



Despite the look she gave him, she lifted it over her head and tossed it aside. "Done. What else?"

Jesus, she really was listening! "OK. Now the boots and gloves," he said, the shaking of his hands slowing. "They're even more ridiculous and completely unnecessary. You're fucking invulnerable."

A voice in his head started to scream:"don't be an asshole," but it was too late.

She paused to hover barefoot, an inch or two from the floor.

"Turn around," he said.

Her eyes flashed brighter this time, but she did so anyway.

"OK, everything's perfect except for one thing. You need to make the bottom of your leotard into a thong. Your ass is as nice as your boobs, so don't hide it."

The part of him that was trying to keep him alive ducked. She was infamous for her bad temper around gawking men.

She continued to face him as she reached behind to adjust her leotard. But instead of showing him, she floated closer as she gently pushed him back down on his lab stool. Shockingly, she settled into his lap while wrapping her long, strong legs around him.

He gasped raggedly for air, an intoxicating scent of animalistic perfection rising from the cut-out of her costume. One thought only filled his mind as she guided his hands to her ass: "Resistance is futile."

"I know that's not what you want to squeeze," she whispered his ear, "but it's what you get."

He nearly lost it as he cupped her famous round backside, finding she was an amazingly tight as he'd always imagined.

She laughed as she heard him trying to breathe. "So, given you are still interested in fashion, how would you like to see my alternate uniform?" she teased, feeling him responding.

"Which... which one is that?" Peter asked, confused.

"The one that's made of nothing at all."

Wow! Be waiting for more! Thanks for sharing shadar!

Agreed... this was just a quick vignette (specifically, some words wrapped around that one picture to explain the context) and not the start of a short story. But I was kicking around whether a short story could be written where this scene (albeit with rewrites) could fit in.

Most of my stories, large or small, start as vignettes, but I usually don't share the vignettes themselves. But fifteen years ago, I often did, on the old AU, and they were popular ways to get an idea launched.

Shadar

Woodclaw wrote: Not bad, although not one of your most inspired works either Shadar. I like the fact that you choose to focus on a the non-powered aspect of the main character but, at the same time, it feels like there's something missing. Like a little more detail to make the overall scenario a bit more alive.

The old Sharon stories.. God I been reading your stories for a long time. Thank you. They have been an enjoy to read.