At the police station, Superman was brought in by three cops roughly handling her cuffed hands, her tiny still sensitive boobs, and her ample backside
“Officers, Please there’s no need.” She protested in a refined husky whisper.
“Shut up whore, you’ve had worse by every guy on the corner.”
They pushed her into a tiny interrogation room.
Commisoner Jack Willows looked at the black babe that had once been superman. Her dyed red locks covered a tiny face filled with rage and she sneered and flared her nostrils in a way that was unconscious very fetching.
“Ah, superman. I see you might have a clue what happened to your friend Batman.”
“You changed us! But why? You’re supposed to be the police.”
“Too much competition from you masked vigilantes and Vaccaro says you guys upset his rackets. It’s easier if you’re a bunch of helpless sluts.”