Tackling the fleeing robber to the ground, you quickly bring a pair of handcuffs out of your utility belt and cuff his hands behind his back. Aren’t you forgetting something?
Oh, yes. Of course. Still straddling his prone body, you reach into the back of his pants (Ew! What a girl’s got to do for a gimmick! you think to yourself.) and get a good grip on his boxers. And, of course, proceed to wedgie him like there will be no tomorrow. And who knows? Maybe there won’t.
Underneath you, the common criminal begs and pleads for you to stop. “Come on, what the hell’s this? I’m just ow trying to feed my fami-ow…family! A guy’s gotta ow eat, you know!”
She’d be so proud of you for sure! She had warned you not to go out on your own; too dangerous, she said. And yet, here you are! Foiling a bank robber, and dishing out justice…wedgie style!
Not that the thug is passive about it. Kicking and thrashing, he finally manages to buck you off like a rodeo bull. Your small frame allows you to sail through the air for a few feet, before landing hard butt-first back on the ground.
Dazed, you rub soothing circles into your sore behind. Glancing up, you see the robber make his way to his feet, trying to adjust his stretched-out undergarments all the while. It takes you a few seconds to register the dangerous situation you are now in. Perhaps a certain sidekick should’ve listened to that advice, after all!
The thug bends down to pick up the sack of money he had been carrying, and looks over in your direction. Still a little dazed, you find yourself still unable to take action. He merely chuckles, about to make his getaway…when something grabs his attention. You wonder what it is…
…until you look down and see your legs splayed in a most unladylike fashion. Your skirt not being very long as it is, you’re sure it’s hiding nothing from his sight in thi position. This realization is enough to snap you out of your lethargy, and you scramble to both cover yourself up and get to your feet.
The thug is quicker, however, and swings the heavily-laden bag in your direction, scoring a direct hit across the side of your head. You go back down in a slump, the alley behind the bank spinning like a top before your eyes.
The next thing you’re aware of is that you are lying on the cold cement, face down. A breeze blows through, and you can feel goosebumps rise on your slender, bare arms and legs. Someone is standing above you; you can see his feet on either side of you.
You feel your panties tighten slightly across your buttocks, the waistband lifting slightly away from your body. You have enough awareness to note this fact, though not enough to think it through. You’re suffering from a killer headache, though strangely you feel no urge to cry. Normally, you would’ve been drowning in your own tears by now. Whatever.
Your panties shoot towards the sky! With his strength, the goon manages to lift you a few feet off the ground, your undies cleaving your lower cheeks in two. Later, you may reflect on how silly you looked in this situation: butt up in the air, the peak of the mountainous outline your body made. And the robber standing over you, yanking away on your panties. Certainly, he makes your earlier attempts look quite amateurish in comparison.
On the bright side, the intense wedgie has stunned you out of your stupor. On the other hand, your position leaves no obvious way to regain the upper hand. Your body weight is currently supported almost entirely by this man’s strength – and your panties, of course – as you stretch your hands and feet to the ground to relieve some of the agonizing pressure.
As if by miracle, you hear the sound of a familiar, welcome voice. “Unhand that sidekick, you creep!” Before your tormentor can react, there is the sound of a dull thud before he drops to the ground. Once again, you find yourself lying on the ground. This time, your skirt is up over your back, letting your rescuer get a good look at your stretched-out panties wedged tightly into your butt.
“What happened here, Pixie? Was I…interrupting something…?” she asks, amused by the sight you’re making.
You hide your face in your hands, too ashamed to look at her. Or even fix yourself, your near-bare butt on display should anyone choose to walk down this particular alleyway. Her bemused tone quickly shifts to an angry one, as she lectures you on why you shouldn’t be doing this alone, how you could be hurt or killed, a sidekick’s duty to her mentor, etc.
You tune her out, and reach back to adjust your panties. That wedgie is going to be felt for days, but if you could just pick it out, you might feel a bit better.
“You’re not even paying attention to me, are you?” she admonishes. What little light is reaching the vicinity of your face is blocked out momentarily; she’s bending down.
“No, Morgan! Don’t!” you blurt out. The two of you gasp at once.
“What did you say?!”
“Um…sorry.”
“Oh, you’ll be sorry. When I get through with you, you’ll be the sorriest girl in town!” She grabs your still-wedged panties and resumes the wedgie she had just broken up. At least she’s not as strong as that icky-looking guy, a thought that does nothing to help.
Slap! She just smacked your butt! Still holding the wedgie tight, she gives you your very first spanking…in a cold, dirty alley! Slap! Slap! Slap slap slap!
“Mor…uh, Schoolgirl! Please! Please, stop!” Slap! “Owwwwie!”
Schoolgirl lets go of your panties. They snap back to your body, eliciting one last little yelp from you. You hear the rustle of her costume as she kneels down in front of you. Her gaze bores into you until you are compelled to finally look up.
You gasp. Though her costume’s skirt is longer than yours, in this position you can still see right up to her own panties! You stifle a giggle; in her mood, she probably wouldn’t see the humor of the situation.
“Cindy,” she says.
“But Mor-g…er, Schoolgirl! You just said…!”
“I know. But that guy’s out cold, and there’s nobody else around.” You glance over at the limp robber. He’s now snoring away, sleeping off the blow to his head. “Still,” she continues, “it’s not fun, having me reveal your identity like that, is it?”
More lecturing. “No, Miss Schoolgirl. That’s not good at all,” you reply sheepishly.
“What if the bad guys found out who you were?”
“Well, I…uh…that’d never happen!”
“But it could, Pixie. And then they can come after you at anytime. You’d be a target to every guy in the city with a gun and a grudge. Not just you. Your family, too.”
You think of your sister, Claire…your brothers…and your parents. They don’t know of your…“extra-curricular”…activities. But they could still be targets for revenge if anyone else found out who was under Pixie’s domino mask.
“You’re right, Schoolgirl. I’m sorry.” The thought of your family being hurt has you on the verge of tears.
Your mentor and idol helps you to your feet, wiping away a tear from your cheek. “Come on, chin up! If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the Cape Conference!”
The Conference! You’d forgotten all about it! All of the city’s heroes, crimefighters and vigilantes will be there. Discussing new and more expensive and destructive ways to fight superhuman criminals and despots, most likely. Sounds like fun!
You take a few steps, before remembering: there’s still the criminal to deal with! You point this out to Morgan…oops, Schoolgirl, Mistress of Wedgies.
“You’re right, Pixie! Make the call to the Commissioner, I’ll deal with this scum.”
You reach into your purse for your phone, and make the call. You’ve done it so many times by now, you could dial it with your eyes closed…but you keep your eyes open, just in case.
Meanwhile, the robber – who is just beginning to stir – is in for a rude awakening. The Schoolgirl doesn’t take kindly to those who would harm her faithful friend and sidekick, and lays into him with fists and feet blazing.
As you inform the police where they can find the bank robber – and the stolen money – your fellow heroine is just finishing the one-sided fight. She removes some rope from her utility purse, ready to leave her calling card. She's done this so many times by now, the unconscious criminal is hanging from a lamppost on the nearest street corner within a minute. Her Wedgie Spray – applied liberally to his underwear – ensures that it won't be ripping anytime in the next hour or so.
But you're already running late, and neither of you have time to admire your handiwork. The Cape Convention only comes around once a year, and is by far the best way to network in the crimefighting world. It's rumored that Super Duper Guy himself will be there! The Schoolgirl has plans to expand your duo – originally dubbed the Wedgie Girls by the local media – into the Wedgie Buddies, Defenders of Justice and Childish Pranks. There'll be no better opportunity for recruitment and advice.
As you dash off through the dark city streets, you briefly wonder just what you've gotten yourself into. Sure, it's exciting, way more exciting than anything else you could be doing. But you got beat up by one stupid robber. If you're expected to be a superhero…what happens if you fail?