“February 7th, Bismarck North Dakota, I have lost count of how many days I have been in exile!”
“Relax Steph,” Tim’s voice responded over the phone, “Boss man has everyone split up and dispersed to protect everyone. Twice in one month as soon as three people got together, boom they lost their minds and went to the dark side.”
“If it is to protect us, why are we checking in everyday?” Steph asked.
“We are checking in everyday so we know if someone has gone over to the dark side,” Tim groaned, “Imagine if we didn’t know Babs had betrayed us and we sent her a not that we were going to raid Catwoman’s lair?”
Steph flopped back on the safe house’s bed. She looked at the ceiling.
“Good point,” Steph said, “Anyone else go dark?”
“Yesterday Frost and Power Girl went looking for Sleaze,” Tim said, “that was the last that we heard from them.”
“Shit,” Steph gasped, “Those three together? We are fucked.”
“Yeah,” Tim started.
A light flicked on and Steph sprang up.
“I’ll call you back,” Steph spat out, “The teleporter light popped on.”
Steph hung up and dropped her phone and grabbed a bat shaped Shrieken and a baton. Steph went downstairs a prepared to ambush who ever came out of it.
“Hello?” a girls voice said, “I know someone is here.”
A red haired young woman walked out of the basement. She was struggling with a pair of duffle bags. She spied Steph out of the corner of her eye.
“Hi there,” the red head said, “Patsy Walker aka Hell Cat. Sorry to drop in on you but the ‘Hotel’ I was hanging out at was taken over by bee keepers. Part of them claiming Stark properties.”
Steph looked her up and down, Five foot eight, about a hundred and thirty-five pounds, blue eyes, long red hair in a ponytail. She had a few inches height advantage over Steph’s Five foot five thin frame. Patsy also had a few years on Steph being late twenties over Steph’s nineteen years old.
“Stephaie Brown,” Steph lowered her weapons, “I guess I am going back to being batgirl.”
“Brown,” Patsy put one of the duffels down, “You are Cluemaster’s kid right?”
Steph raised up the bat shaped throwing blade.
“Relax,” Patsy said, “I read your Shield file. You got started to ruin his life like he ruined yours right?”
“Yeah,” Steph lowered the blade.
*
Doom sat in his throne room and was going over the report on the conversation his Ambassador to the People’s Republic of China had today and was drafting an “Email” as the rest of the world called it for what Doom wanted the ambassador was to say in the meeting tomorrow. He was almost done when there was a knock at the door.
“Enter,” Doom called.
A woman came in and went to kneel in front of the desk but fell over rather than gracefully kneel as she normally did. Doom finished the line and sent the message. He then turned and regarded the woman in front of him, she was not dressed in the normal long dress and apron of the maid staff, rather she was clad in a short and shiny dress with a big puff in place of the skirt and seemed to be struggling with rediculas heeled boots…
“Why are you not wearing your uniform?” Doom asked.
“Lord Doom,” the woman started, “You see Lord Doom… I will report to the ministry of justice for execution Lord…”
“Silence,” Doom used the trick to boom his voice, “I have not decided you need to be executed, I have asked for an explanation… Now tell me why you are not in your uniform.”
“Lord Doom,” the woman started breathing to keep herself calm, “Your fiancé, the Lady Van Dyne has taken the stance of lady of the house hold and has decided to design new uniforms for the staff.”
“Very well,” Doom said, “Now why have you come to me?”
“Lord Doom, the Lady Van Dyne requests your presence in the bed chambers,” the maid said with a slight smile.
“Please stand,” Doom commanded.
“Yes lord,” the woman stood up.
It took all of Doom’s self-control to not laugh. He supposed the dress was meant to make the woman look like a feather duster or something… Clearly the work of the decadent mind of a western democratic high fashion artist, intended for one lap in front of the designers’ pears and sycophants not use in everyday life…
“I command you to speak plainly about how you feel about that outfit,” Doom was particular about his words.
“It is different than the traditional uniform,” the woman said, “That part is a relief, but these shoes are no less uncomfortable than the traditional shoes and much less practical. I am not sure I could sit in this uniform even if I should be ordered to do so. Shall I report for execution my lord?”
“No,” Doom said, “It is important I know what my people are thinking from time to time. I will see to it we change the maid’s uniforms to something newer… but much more functional.”
“Yes My Lord,” the woman tried to curtsy and almost fell over again.
Doom waved for the woman to leave, of course there were elements of western culture that would never be expunged from his bride no matter how much she pledged to... but the key was to make it beneficial to his reign. Perhaps he would have Janet introduce a line of sneakers for his staff to wear in informal occasions.
“Go about your duties,” Doom said, “I am off to speak with my beloved.”
“Enjoy your night my lord,” the maid again said with a smile.
*
“Hay,” Patsy said, “Do you want to grab a pizza or something? I need to go to the bank and pull some cash anyways.”
“I’m good,” Steph said from her laptop, “I got frozen meals to keep up with boss man’s program.”
“Wieght watchers?” Patsy asked.
“No, his five-star personal cook made it and froze it and sends them out every other day.”
“Dang, I wish I worked for the bat,” Patsy said.
“I’ll heat one up for you while you’re out,” Steph smiled.
Patsy pulled on a jacket and went towards the bank. North Dakota was a far cry from Miami where her last hide out was. As she left and walked down the city streets she could feel something behind her… She was “Death Touched” as one mystic put it since she had already died, gone to hell, and had been brought back to life, so she could tell something from the “other side” was nearby. Patsy couldn’t see anything nor could she tell what its intentions were. While Patsy chalked it up to an old murdered ghost, the red haired agent of lust and villainy strutted behind the other red head. She knew that today was the day for these two to learn a new outlook on life…
*
Doom entered the bed chambers he was sharing with Janet and was amused by the sight that greeted him… Janet has had the maids bind her so she stood teetering on heels with her feet together bent over with her wrists bound together and pulled up in the air, leaving her helpless. And her outfit made sure to convey what she wanted Victor to do to her. She was wearing a heavy green corset with black piping, black thigh highs, absurd high heels, a black and green blind fold and a gag. On her blindfold was the simple instructions, “Fuck me.”
“Oh I shall my dear,” Doom said.
The voice sent shivers down the bound woman’s body.
*
Val watched as Pasty Walker stood in line, she played with her spear waiting for the other two to show up. They should be here any second… Just then the glass of the upper floor exploded and the pair of feline thieves leapt down into the main area. They tossed out smoke bombs and the room filled with knockout gas. Cheetah landed right in between Patsy and Val… Perfect. Val raised her spear and pointed it at the two… The pulse of black energy shot throw Cheetah and into Patsy. A whole new Hellcat took shape. Val the butt of her spear on the ground and ground her crotch against the shaft as she watched the new villainess take shape. The yellow catsuit was latex, the cowl, gloves and paw boots were all black leather, she had a black tail hanging just above her butt cheeks. The boots only went up to her knees while the gloves went up her arms and ended around the middle of her biceps. Like her owners, Hellcat was wearing a gasmask to protect herself from the knockout gas. Val smiled.
“Of course Patsy is going to tell her mistress Selina to stuffy Stephy,” Val cooed to herself.
*
Canary and Lark were preparing for the afternoon show. Lark was tying the corset onto Canary’s chest and looking over the notes.
“So you get in the cake, we roll you out,” Lark said, “and stand around for the music to start and when it does we march off stage.”
“Right,” Canary smiled.
*
Stephanie was pulling the tray out of the oven, two portions of Leg of Lamb ala Pennyworth. It was the only good part of this, getting three meals a day sent over from Alfred. She heard the door open behind her.
“How bad was the line at the bank?” Steph didn’t look up, “You were gone for a while.”
“They were purrfect!” Selina purred looking at the blonde bat brat, “You should have joined Patsy, but you will anyways!”
Selina felt a pulse energy shoot throw her and into the blonde in front of her. Stephanie changed almost instantly. Her body was engulfed in a latex catsuit and a feline themed cowl formed on her head with a broad slit at the back to let out her blonde tresses. She turned around and dropped to her hands and knees. Selina noticed the collar around her neck with the pendant. Inscribed on it was “Property of Mistress Selina.”
