The Silver Shield Meets His Doom

by Ami Lamida
tieduptv@hotmail.com

 

I wasn’t always a superhero. Oh, I was always muscular and I did the typical manly activities all through school, but my unnatural strength was the result of a genetics experiment gone wrong – or rather, right for me. I never reported the results of that experiment to anyone. I carefully buried and obscured certain details so that my results couldn’t be replicated and I pronounced the experiment a "failure". Other than some disappointment on review by my professors, nobody seemed to notice what I had done.

I guess you could say it was a power trip at first. I graduated and went to work for a well-known genetics lab. All the while, I was conducting experiments to determine my new physical limitations. I found I could dead lift in the range of five tons. Not only had my muscles been augmented in strength, but my bones and tissues as well. I could fall from a ten-story building and walk away without a scratch. I could get hit crossing the street by a speeding semi and only the semi would be damaged.

I spent some time examining philosophy in an effort to decide how best to use my dawning powers. I couldn’t share my secrets, lest they fall into the wrong hands. I had to invent a cover story and a new identity so I could not be manipulated in any way. I know the "superhero" idea is cliché, but I decided that it was the best way to serve the public good.

I became the ‘Silver Shield’. Yeah, I know – another lame cliché, but it worked for me. I used all the computer, radio, and surveillance technology I could find to detect criminal activity and stamp it out. Potential criminals would be paralyzed by fear when I would appear suddenly in my silver spandex bodysuit and tights. Of course I had gadgets and such – yeah, I was strong, but I couldn’t be in two places at once, and that meant a group of fleeing baddies could potentially get away. So I had my non-lethal stunners, chemicals and such to tip the odds in my favor. I was the defender of the average law-abiding citizen. The press adored me. Criminals feared me.

That is why I couldn’t quite grasp how I’d gotten into this situation. I was plastered to some kind of wall. My arms and legs were spread apart and I couldn’t get them to move more than a few centimeters in any direction. Something springy held me tight to some kind of impenetrable metal wall. There seemed to be an opening for my face, but that springy material seemed to cover the other side of the wall as well and I couldn’t see through it.

I was in a tight spot – literally. I tried to clear my head and remember what had happened…

I had been monitoring the usual crime detectors – police bands, surveillance video feeds from various crime hot-spots, computer leads, and such. It was a slow day – nothing was happening. That was getting more and more common since I started cleaning up the streets. Then suddenly I heard my cry for help, "10-34 in progress…old Granger warehouse…corner of 91^st and Congress…suspect is a Caucasian male, mid-30s, approximately 6’1", wearing all black with black ski mask…"

That was the one – the crime I despised most – a sexual assault. I hopped into my highly modified black Corvette and quickly covered the 2.4 miles to the crime scene. It was an abandoned warehouse, not too secure, so as I usually do in such cases, I entered with force. I easily kicked in the door and dashed into the dark building. I remember a strange odor and then stumbling…

I mentally flogged myself for blundering into this obvious trap. None of the vindictive criminals I’d ever run up against had found a way to bring me down, and I had become overly confident. Now I was stuck in my captor’s web. Still, I couldn’t think of anyone that would be able to mastermind such a snare. There had been no major offenders released from prison lately, and the minor ones that were on the streets were no threat to me. That had to mean this was someone new – perhaps a criminal from another part of the world…

My thought process was interrupted by something moving near my nether regions. As was natural for my gender, I was protective of my male anatomy despite my ruggedness. The crotch of my silver leotard was cut away and my tights were pulled down to expose my entire manhood. The cool air told me that there must be an opening in the wall at just that spot. I was feeling VERY helpless and VERY vulnerable for the first time, well…ever.

A light tickling and stroking began. I have to hand it to my captor or captors, they were experts at stimulation. Try as I might to resist, I found myself getting aroused. Was that the plan of this evil mastermind? – To force me into some kind of sexual ecstasy and then leak video footage to the press? Well, it wouldn’t work! I was proud of my masculine parts. The augmentation of my muscles had worked equally well on my manhood, and I was the man of steel when it came to sex. I wouldn’t let them break me that way.

The stimulation continued, and eventually I lost the battle, and my load. I knew I’d lost some dignity too, but I certainly hadn’t lost the war. In fact, all the effort seemed pointless to me. That was the flaw in my captor’s plan that I would use to my advantage…

"Did you enjoy that Mr. Shield, or whatever you call yourself now? I hope you did, because it will be the last thing I will let you enjoy. Call it a gift for old time’s sake."

It was a sweet-sounding female voice. That would explain this obviously well-planned scheme, but I couldn’t think of a single female criminal who might be out to get me. Generally, I had treated female suspects I’d apprehended quite gently. Many of them even became my admirers – and let’s face it, what woman wouldn’t be?

Well, okay, this one obviously wasn’t. And it must be someone I knew, but who? I racked my brain and came up blank.

"Oh, don’t worry too much - I know it would be hard to hurt your genetically modified body without some serious hardware," she continued, "so we will forgo that little pleasure. What I have in mind for you is something much more sinister. When I am through with you, your crime-fighting days will be over and you will wish you’d never met me."

"Yeah sure lady," I thought. There was no reason to dignify this nonsense. In the end, I would capture this bad girl as usual, and this time, I might not be so gentle. I just had to figure a way out.

"Don’t bother thinking that you can escape your predicament. The material you are encased in has been my life’s work. It is a specially treated spandex. It has similar elastic properties to your typical spandex, but it will virtually NEVER break. The elastic coating I have developed is so strong it will stop a bullet or withstand a bomb blast. Only a special chemical formula I have developed can ever weaken its molecular structure. The only way you will ever be free is if I decide to free you."

Curses! This woman had obviously gone through a lot of trouble to get me here. She’d spent her whole life engineering this trap, but why? I hadn’t heard of any female criminal masterminds running loose. Was this truly her first criminal act – to entrap me? It didn’t make sense.

"I know…you’re thinking I’m insane. But you’re wrong. Oh, I admit that in the past I’ve had my issues, but lately I have been thinking very clearly. You see, thinking of what I would do to you when I caught you has given me a great sense of purpose and forced me to think rather logically."

She fell quiet for a few minutes. My mind went to work on how to escape. I had a transmitter on my belt that would have the entire police force here in minutes. Then they could work out how to free me. If I could just…reach…it… It was no use, I was held tight in her spandex web. I would have to wait until the opportunity presented itself to escape.

"You still don’t remember my voice do you? - No, of course not. Why should you? You’re just a callous pig. You never really cared about anyone – you just saved people for the glory of it all. I’ll bet that after you captured the bad guys, you never, ever checked up on the VICTIMS of the crimes."

She was right, of course. But hey, I’m a superhero, not a counselor. My job is to do brave and noble deeds and bring order to the streets, not to hold the hand of the weaklings I was protecting.

"I’ve confused you, haven’t I? You probably think I’m some criminal’s lover come to seek revenge or some crime victim you forgot to console. Well, I’m not – at least not in the sense that you’re thinking. The only crime I was a victim of was committed by you."

Who? Me? I had never broken the law. It was a part of my moral code to stringently obey the law. This woman must have mistaken me for someone else. If that were the case… "Mnnth nff wnnff nnff," I said through the tight fabric.

"You think I’ve got the wrong man, huh? I don’t think so. Perhaps it is time you actually MET your nemesis."

I heard a scraping of metal, and the impenetrable, shiny, black spandex cloth was loosened and removed from my face. There were bright lights focused at my face, and it took time for my eyes to adjust. When images finally started to come clear, my confusion only got worse.

"Stephanie??! What…?" I started.

"Oh how sweet," she replied with mock sincerity, "you DO remember me. I suppose you think I should take that as a compliment. Well I DON’T."

"But...but…why?"

She looked at me with cold eyes and said, "You should know why, you swine. All I wanted was to be a part of your life. I could have helped you with your experiments back in college. We could have saved the world together. Instead you dumped me and shut me out of your life. I was at a fragile time in my life. I had to prove myself just as you had. Any mistakes and I was ruined for life. I could have used your support. But you dropped me like a hot rock. I was foolish for thinking I was more than just your girlfriend. But live and learn, and I have learned…

"I completed my research without you. I took it farther than you ever could have imagined. Besides developing durable fabric coatings, I spent a lot of time going over the papers you left behind from your little experiment. I found where you fudged the results and I have been able to replicate your experiment on myself. I am now nearly as strong as you are. I might even be able to cause you quite a deal of physical pain, but that would not quite be a severe enough punishment for the likes of you.

"I took your research even further than you had ever planned to go. I found a major flaw in your genetic ‘fabric’, so to speak. It is like a thread from a sweater – all I have to do is pull it, and you completely come undone. You will become a different person entirely, and it is with that in mind, that I have brought you here."

"You’ll never get away with it, you fiend!" I fired back.

"Ah, but I already have. You are helpless to do anything about it. Would you like to see what you will look like when I am done with you? You might find it rather interesting. I certainly do."

She pulled a cord behind her and a great black curtain dropped to the floor revealing a huge mirror. I had a clear view of the front side of the wall to which I was pinned, and what I saw was not pretty. Or rather, it was very pretty, but not for me.

The wall had been painted like a booth at a fair. The hole through which my face was visible had been cut out of the life-sized painting of a beautiful, buxom woman. I had fully expected to see a shriveled up old man or something, but not this.

"Your plan will never work," I stated.

"Yes, it will. And it will be relatively quick and easy once I get the chemicals inside your body. You see, while you strengthened your muscles, bones, and tissues with your little experiment, you made your male hormones extremely brittle. You might be interested to know that there are no such side-effects when your experiment is performed on a woman. But enough talk. Let’s get started…"

She pulled a canister out of her belt and sprayed its contents into my face. That’s the last thing I remembered until…

~-~

I awoke to a splitting headache. There was no telling how long I’d been sedated. All I knew is I felt weak…so weak. It was dark. No, there was a blindfold over my eyes. I was bound to a bed or something. It felt like…ROPE! I could easily break free of some measly little rope! But try as I might, I couldn’t seem to break them. Perhaps she had treated them with that chemical of hers. Yes, that must have been it! Except for one thing – as I pulled on those ropes, they tightened and they HURT. Mere ropes could never have hurt me before.

As feeling returned to my body, I became aware of what had truly been done to me. I definitely felt different. My body no longer felt muscular. In fact, my body mass seemed to have dropped significantly – except in certain areas. I was very aware of some extra weight on my chest. Something was not right.

"Ah, I see you are awake. Good. I have been anxious to commence the unveiling."

"What have you done?" I cried. But I was only answered with the snapping of the ropes binding me. In that moment I thought I had finally won free. But Stephanie easily restrained me, pinning me in a bear hug with my arms to my sides. I was no longer strong enough to take her, and that bear hug was actually PAINFUL.

"Yes, it is time for you to see what I have done. I hope you like it. You are stuck that way for…well forever," she giggled.

She pulled the blindfold off my eyes. When my eyes finally adjusted, I could see I was being held up in front of a full length mirror, though I didn’t quite believe that it was actually me I was seeing. I had been completely transformed into a woman except for a tiny remnant of my former masculinity. My manhood was embarrassingly small now, and it didn’t seem to be working. My breasts, on the other hand, were more sensitive than I ever remember them. They were also HUGE. It had to have been a ‘D’-cup at least, which looked ridiculously out of place on my now slender body. There were barely any reminders of my previous muscle. I looked almost waifish. My blonde hair had grown down past my shoulders, and had obviously been curled and styled into an elegantly feminine hairdo.

But the thing that troubled me most was my face. Gone were the bony, masculine lines. My face was now soft and smooth, with a small, delicate nose. I no longer recognized any part of me. I was totally ruined. Everything I’d engineered myself to be had been taken apart. But there was still some fight in me.

"You won’t get away with this. I will fight you through legal means. Everywhere you go, I will be there. The press will know all about this!" I threatened, my high-pitched voice no longer my own.

"No dear. Nobody will ever know about this but us. You see, if I am to be out fighting crime, somebody will have to be taking care of things at home. You’re that somebody. You’re not going anywhere. You will be my servant for the rest of your natural life. This location has been secured against any kind of intrusion or attack by my special materials. You will spend the rest of your life here paying for what you did to me. In fact, you can begin paying right now."

She carried me over to an open area and chained my ankles to the floor. My hands were chained to a hook in the ceiling and I was drawn up tight, my toes not even touching the floor. When she stepped back I finally got the chance to see her in her new identity.

"You like? I intend to start fighting crime right away. It should be easy with all the equipment I found at your little hideaway. I think I’ll call myself the ‘Crimson Crusader’…"

Indeed, her outfit was the color of bloody crimson. The shiny spandex bodysuit and tights, her golden knee-length boots, and black horsewhip and mask all made that supple little body into a fearful sight. I remember I used to admire her body…

"But I intend to make you suffer a bit first. Meet my whip of justice," she said.

I was whipped with that ‘whip of justice’ for what seemed like hours. I found that all of my flesh was more sensitive than ever before, but when that whip landed across my breasts, I nearly fainted. When it was over my whole body was burning and I hung loosely in my restraints. My wrists and ankles were bruised from my struggle against those tight chains.

"That was fun," she declared. "I could go on for hours, but the people await their new heroine."

She lowered me to the floor and threw a bundle of clothes at me. I scanned them and they appeared to be a French maid’s uniform, with fishnet stockings, high heels, and frills. I looked at her pleadingly, still hoping it was all a dream.

"Put them on," she said coldly. "And then clean up around here. I want this place spotless by the time I get back, otherwise your punishment will be worse than before."

With that, she simply turned and left, a vault door swinging shut behind her. What could I do? I donned the clothing and started planning my next move while I started cleaning the laboratory…

 

 

 

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© 2003 by Ami Lamida. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.