Spider-Woman had seen the Warden's outrageous Press Conference earlier in the evening and had been thoroughly outraged by the humiliations forced upon both Supergirl and Powergirl. She had nearly charged straight off to the prison herself, but was wise enough to recognise that if 2 heroines that mighty could be incapacitated so quickly, something must clearly be afoot and she must proceed with caution. She had the contacts to find out the warden's home address, and reasoned that striking him where he least expected it may be where he was most vulnerable.
While the Warden was enjoying his evening at the theatre with Zatanna she was tracking him down and soon she was perched at the top of his apartment building where he owned a luxurious penthouse. She carefully inspected it from outside, ascertaining that he was not at home and that all the windows were securely fastened. With her spider-strength, she knew she could gain entry easily, but not without causing damage to them that could be detected - and she was desperate to make her visit an unwelcome surprise.
But she found the huge skylight above his master bedroom could be forced, and she proceeded to apply the power necessary to force it upwards. Despite her strength, she needed secure footing on the roof to apply the necessary leverage, and her taut muscles bulged against her skintight red bodystocking. It was unfortunate for Spider-Woman that it was when she was in the precarious position of needing all her strength to hold the skylight above her while delicately squeezing her body through the frame that the Warden's spells struck her, and it was with a quite catastrophic effects.
Needing her Spider-strength to lift the skylight, its sudden removal sent it crashing down upon her. With her being halfway over the lintel, it crashed down on her shoulder to pin her between the heavy glass and the very solid frame. More in than out, she wriggled into the opening rather than try to make her retreat.
But SpiderWoman's costume was no longer up to such rough treatment. It had already started out as skintight, and the Warden's magic had succeeded in reducing it to a fraction of the thickness and about four dress sizes smaller - with her suddenly expanding bust, it's frayed seams would come apart under even the slightest provocation. And this scraping contact was all the provocation that she needed, and as she slipped into space she heard a terrible ripping sound. If her fortune was better, she may still have retained most of her costume, but instead once it started to rip, it began a catastrophic chain reaction that left behind virtually all her ridiculous outfit wedged in the closed gap, except for her mask, and her yellow gloves and boots.
As she toppled into thin air she tried to reach out to clasp the far edge of the lintel to stop herself, but she moved unexpectedly slowly and missed in comfortably. She tried to twist in mid air so as to fire some webbing upwards to arrest her fall, but the huge lead weights now affixed to her torso dragged her straight downwards and fast, and she crashed udders-first into the huge bed below. Normally she could fall from greater height and land deftly on her feet without damage, but now she was fortunate that she was merely badly winded rather than more physically damaged.
Spider-woman feebly tried to shake her head to assess her changed circumstances. A moment before she had been fully-clothed with a clear strategy in her head of how to force the Warden to liberate the Kryptonians and retract his words condemning Superheroines. But now she was virtually naked and utterly confused, her bimbified brain unable to grasp her situation or find a useful way out of it.
Whatever she did, she knew she didn't want to do it nude, so she stood on the bed fired her familiar webbing back up to the ceiling so as to haul herself upwards to reclaim her costume. But this too had changed for the worst - although she fired it upwards with all the force she could muster, and the vaulted ceiling was still only a few feet above her head, the sticky material seemed to have changed in consistency - it rose only about a foot vertically, before gravity reclaimed it and it fell back down upon her, matting her tousled black hair with a white sticky fluid that was useless to her but horribly familiar. Her mouth gasped open in shock as she realised that her primary weapon appeared to have been rendered effectively useless - and some of the solution hit the back of her mouth. While she had never before tasted it, she knew this wasn't right; this was salty, slimy, and only mildly sticky - where was the strong webbing the could use to tie up her enemies and swing herself to freedom?
In fear, she leapt at the wall above the headboard, desperate to climb herself up the wall and along the ceiling to the glass and the much-missed fabric. She retained just enough of her abilities to scramble up to the ceiling, but there they gave out, and once again she crashed to earth, this time jarring her naked behind painfully on the bedside table. What on earth was wrong with her?
Gingerly, she reclaimed her feet and uncertainly walked to the exit door, her huge udders swinging freely before her - she had to get out of here. But the door was locked. Locked! Who locked their bedroom door?
Sadly for Spider-Woman, she was unaware that in opening the skylight she had activated the apartment's security system that by default had locked all the doors until the resident returned to neutralise the system. No door or window would open until that happened. It also sent a message to the warden's phone to appraise him of the situation.
Desperately, she threw herself at the door, no longer worried about the element of surprise but eager to get out of this room. The door was not particularly sturdy and even without the dwindling remains of her Spider-strength she should have been able to force it. But now she was both clumsy and stupid, and instead of ramming her shoulder into area of weakness, she thought little of crushing her own tits as she flung herself forward face first onto the very-immovable frame.
Heaving for breath, she eventually gave up on her useless endeavours and turned to the only other point of exit from the room the huge window. It was securely locked, and again it was more than equal to brute force and complete ignorance.
She was trapped! Naked and powerless in the boudoir of a dangerous enemy was not her intention of how she intended to take him on. But at least he wasn't here, and as frazzled as her mind was, she had the chance of preparing herself for his arrival...
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