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The squealing giggles echoed inside the dumpster as Felicia tried to block them out, tried not let herself hear the response her ridiculous display had gotten. They were laughing at her. And not even because they were jealous of how free and open she was
with her sexuality, she always got a few catty giggles for being a so-called tramp... No, these girls were laughing at her for being a klutz. An awkward, pratfalling doofus with pretensions of being cool and sexy. Felicia Hardy was many things, a thief, a
maneater, a bad girl, materialistic, selfish... but she was NOT a clumsy fool.
So why had she engineered the tweaking of her powers to all but ensure an incident like this? And why had imagining it gotten her heart racing like a rollercoaster.... and why was it taking all her willpower not to zip her catsuit the rest of the way open and
touch herself as she listened to the laughter and commentary.
"Pfft, serves her right, letting those udders of hers hang out! Only a real hero could balance with those things!" came a snide, bratty... but familiar voice.
Oh no... oh god... not her...
What was she doing, thought Jessica Jones as she posed for herself in the mirror, the shiny blue trim across her bust and hips drawing attention to the extra pounds she'd put on since last wearing the white costume. With alterations, her maternally enhanced
boobs and slightly more padded butt would probably look quite normal in it... or as normal as any woman wearing spandex and flying could... But the same urges that had her trying it on, made taking it to any of the usual superhuman tailoring types unthinkable.
As much as she hated to admit it... she didn't WANT it to be better fitting. A little too small, a little too tight... a woman trying to act like the hot young thing she was 15 pounds and one kid ago.... that's what she looked like. Not only that, she looked
even LESS like a superhero than she had when she'd worn it originally.
Barely anyone even remembered she'd been Jewel. A teenager who played at being a superheroine. Who barely managed a few months in the game before becoming the punchline to a million online jokes about heroines who wanted to be caught, wanted to be pawed at
or controlled by the bad guys. Oh, sure, Jean Grey, Sue Storm, Jan Van Dyne all got the same barbs aimed at them. But that was all this costume made people think of. A horny, fucked up girl playing dress-up so the baddest of the bad boys would have his way
It had started days earlier, an idle thought to the Purple Man sent not just the usual cold smirk and disgusted shiver down her spine... but a nauseous excitement. Recalling how helpless she'd been... how fully he'd messed with her head... making her display
herself for him, try to seduce him... beg for his cock... to even clean up after his other girls... Not just doing the actions, saying the words... but needing it... Worshipping the villain who'd beaten her...
And here she was... getting ready to go out and find some crime to stop. Some thugs to punish. Some villain to see through her and take control...
"Fuck... stop thinking like that... I'm Jewel. I'm strong. I'm powerful. I can control my powers and my needs... I'm not some wannabe groupie for any meathead with spandex and a shitty evil plot."
Nodding at her reflection, she looked back at the bedroom Luke and Dani were asleep in... and slipped out the window, hoping the shakiness she felt when she began flying was just nerves, not the horrible voice in her head urging her to falter, lose control...
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