"Oh, no, no, no. That just won't do." The Outfitter looks Allison's superhero costume up and down. "How in the world are we going to sell this?"
The Outfitter, a seasoned artisan known only by his title, shuffled through his workshop with the air of someone who had seen generations of heroes come and go. His back curved slightly with age, yet his hands were steady, the fingers nimble from years of crafting armour and stitching capes. As she stood before him in her form-fitting suit, those hands began to move with well-rehearsed ease, carrying a measuring tape that danced around her like a snake charmed out of its basket.
Allison felt her cheeks flush as the Outfitter's delicate hands roamed over her body, the measuring tape wrapping around her waist, hips, and chest. He tutted and clicked his tongue, muttering about adjustments and alterations.
"Mmm, yes, a bit more room here, my dear. We need to show off those delightful curves. Superheroes need to strike fear into the hearts of villains and desire—pride rather, into the hearts of the people they protect." As he spoke, his fingers deliberately brushed against the swells of her breasts, tracing the outline of her nipples through the suit's fabric.
The Outfitter stepped back, his eyes narrowing in appraisal. "This outfit is too... restrictive. We need to make a few changes. Something more form-fitting, perhaps a lower neckline, and a bit more skin showing. Yes, indeed." Without warning, he whipped out a pair of scissors and, with a deft snip, cut away a portion of the suit's fabric, exposing more of Allison's cleavage. The fabric continued to warp and weave, mending itself into a new shape.
Allison gasped, her eyes widening at the sudden exposure. "Um, I thought the suit was supposed to be practical and protective?" she said, her voice wavering slightly.
"Oh, my dear, it is." The Outfitter's hands moved to her hips, his fingers digging into her supple flesh. "But we can't have you hiding your light under a bushel, now, can we? Superheroes are figures of fantasy, and a dash of sex appeal never hurt anyone."
As he spoke, the Outfitter's hands roamed lower, squeezing her buttocks as he pretended to adjust the suit's fit. Allison's breath quickened, and she felt a tingle between her legs, a mix of embarrassment and arousal. " I-I suppose a little skin wouldn't hurt," she stammered, unsure if she was trying to convince herself or if it was the truth.
"There we are, my dear." The Outfitter stepped back, a lecherous gleam in his eye. "A few more tweaks, and we'll have you turning heads for all the right reasons. Now, let's see about shortening this skirt a tad..."
Allison's cheeks burned as the Outfitter's hands continued their "measurements" his every touch sending a confusion through her body. He knew the Outfitter was meant to be some sort of master hero-suit tailor, but was he really this handsy with all the heroes he fitted?
After what felt like an eternity of the Outfitter's adjustments, Allison finally stood before a full-length mirror, her reflection showcasing the transformed outfit. The sluttier version is a clear departure from her previous, more conservative suit.
The vibrant purple and black ensemble clung to her, showcasing her hourglass physique. The cropped top plunged daringly, revealing a generous expanse of cleavage. Thin straps stretch over her shoulders, baring her smooth skin, while a short skirt hugged her curves, showcasing more of her legs and inner thighs than she was completely comfortable with.
"Oh, my—" Allison breathed, her eyes widening at her reflection. "It's quite something."
The Outfitter beamed with pride, clearly satisfied with his handiwork. "Indeed, my dear. You look absolutely stunning. This outfit will ensure you capture the attention of both villains and citizens alike."
As if to emphasise his point, the Outfitter reached out and gave Allison's exposed midriff a playful tap, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "A little extra skin never hurt anyone, and it certainly suits you."
Allison's cheeks flushed a deeper red. She couldn't deny that the outfit would draw attention. Maybe the wrong sort.
"Now, let's see about those accessories." The Outfitter reached for a small box, opening it to reveal a selection of hero accoutrements. "An eye mask, of course, to conceal your identity, but a smaller, more decorative one to accentuate your beautiful features. And, hmm, yes, a choker with the Nightshade emblem, and some garter pouches for any essential gadgets. Practical and sexy, a winning combination."
As Allison allowed the Outfitter to adorn her with the final touches, she grew increasingly self-conscious. She knew that stepping out in this outfit would turn heads and elicit a range of reactions, both positive and negative. But as she regards her reflection, a sense of empowerment takes hold. It was a super-suit of the same calibre as the ones worn by the Council of Justice.
Allison exited the workshop, her mind and being still reeling from the Outfitter's intimate adjustments. As she walked, a hand suddenly reached out, giving her butt a firm slap. She jumped, startled, and spun to see the Outfitter leering at her, his face a picture of amusement.
"Just making sure that suit sits nice and snug, my dear." He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You keep those villains guessing, and those citizens dreaming. Go get 'em, tiger."
Allison bit her lip, unsure whether to feel annoyed or flattered. She swallowed her retort and walked away, her hips swaying in her new skirt. She felt the Outfitter's eyes lingering on her.
As she made her way to the sidekick common room, her thoughts were in turmoil. Does every hero have to endure such treatment? She knew superheroes were meant to embody a certain level of sex appeal, but this felt like crossing a line.
Allison entered the common room, her eyes immediately falling on Zephyr, who was sitting on a couch in the corner of the room. Zephyr looked up shyly. Allison took in Zephyr's new outfit, which was just as revealing as her own. Her outfit, a mix of blue and silver, accentuated her slender frame, with a plunging neckline that showcased her delicate collarbones and a short, sheer skirt that displayed her ass beneath.
"Wow." Allison gasped, unable to contain her reaction. "I mean, that outfit looks amazing on you."
Zephyr smiled, a soft smile "Thanks. I wasn't so sure about it at first, but I guess it's growing on me. I mean, it's quite a departure from my usual style." She paused, her eyes taking in Allison's new look. "You look amazing too, I wish I had your curves."
Allison smiled back, feeling a surge of camaraderie. "Yeah, it's definitely an adjustment. I feel like I should be posing for a calendar or something." She chuckled, running a hand through her hair. "I guess this is the hero life."
The girl's talk was interrupted by the arrival of Jetstream. He immediately performed a double-take as he noticed the girls, his eyebrows rising in appreciation. Though he tried to play it off as cool, it was clear that the sight of Allison and Zephyr in their new outfits had caught him off guard.
"Well, well," he says, a grin spreading across his face. "Look at you two. I must say, those outfits definitely suit you." His gaze lingered, taking in the revealing nature of their ensembles, from the plunging necklines to the short skirts. Little was left to his imagination.
"Thanks," Zephyr replied, a hint of shyness in her voice. She adjusted her silver headband and arm cuffs.
"I must say, I'm a bit surprised. I expected more modifications to your outfit." Allison looked at Jetstream. Besides a few minor modifications, the blue spandex suit with a black lightning bolt looked pretty much the same as when she first saw him.
"Can't improve on perfection." Jetstream held his hands, crossed his feet and did a smooth twirl.
"Sorry about my boyfriend, he is a show-off and an idiot." Zephyr quietly chuckled.
"You know you love it baby."