Chapter 4: The Outfitter
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 stood before him in her form-fitting suit, those hands began to move with practiced 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 gnarled 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 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... revealing. 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.
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 "measurement," 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? She wondered.
After what feels like an eternity of the Outfitter's "expert" adjustments, Allison finally stands 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 clings to her like a second skin, showcasing her athletic physique. The cropped top plunged daringly, revealing a generous expanse of cleavage and emphasizing the Nightshade emblem strategically placed between her breasts. Thin straps stretch over her shoulders, baring her smooth skin, while a short skirt hug her curves, showcasing more of her legs and inner thighs then she was completely comfortable with.
"Oh, my," Allison breathes, her eyes widening at her reflection. "It's quite something."
The Outfitter beams 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 emphasize his point, the Outfitter reaches out and gives 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 once more. She couldn't deny that the outfit would draw attention. Maybe the wrong sort.
"Now, let's see about those accessories." The Outfitter reaches 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 allows the Outfitter to adorn her with the final touches, she grew more and more self-conscious. She knows that stepping out in this outfit will turn heads and elicit 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 exits the workshop, her mind still reeling from the Outfitter's intimate "adjustments." As she walks, a hand suddenly reaches out, giving her butt a firm slap. She jumps, startled, and spins 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 bites her lip, unsure whether to feel annoyed or flattered. She swallows her retort and strides away, her hips swaying in that damn skirt, feeling the Outfitter's eyes on her the entire way.
As she makes her way to the sidekick common room, her thoughts are in a turmoil. Does every hero have to endure this kind of treatment? She knew superheroes were meant to embody a certain level of sex appeal, but this felt like crossing a line.
When Allison entered the common room, her eyes immediately fall on Zephyr, who was sitting on a couch. Zephyr looks up shyly. Allison takes in Zephyr's new outfit, which is just as revealing as her own. Her outfit, a mix of blue and silver, accentuates her slender frame, with a plunging neckline that showcases her delicate collarbones and a short, sheer skirt that hints at the curves beneath.
"Wow," Allison gasps, unable to contain her reaction. "I mean, that outfit looks amazing on you."
Zephyr smiles, 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 pauses, her eyes taking in Allison's new look. "You look amazing too, I wish I had your curves."
Allison smiles 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 chuckles, running a hand through her hair. "I guess this is the hero life."
The girl talk is interrupted by the arrival of Jetstream. He strides into the room, and immediately does a slight double take, his eyebrows raising in appreciation. Though he tries to play it cool, it's clear that the sight of Allison and Zephyr in their new outfits has 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 lingers, taking in the revealing nature of their ensembles, from the plunging necklines to the short skirts that leave little to the imagination.
"Thanks." Zephyr replies, a hint of shyness in her voice. She adjusts her silver headband, a gesture that betrays her discomfort.
"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 white spandex with a black lightning bolt looked pretty much the same as when she first saw him.
"Can't improved on perfection." Jetstream held his hands , crossed his feet and did a smooth twirl.
"Sorry about my boyfriend, he is a show-off." Zephyr quietly chuckled.
"You know you love it baby."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
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