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Oh, no! It's not working, she thought. She checked the counterpulsedevice on her belt to make sure it was on. "Except for you, ElectraWoman, you can get up. Where are you? Showyourself." ElectraWoman came out of the bank manager's office. She quickly signedHelp! to one of the bank's cameras. "She's in trouble!" cried DynaGirl, watching from the Electrabase."Blast! He must be using a different frequency. I'll see. I installeda sensor in the counterpulse device." Electrawoman," said the Puppetmaster, "I've always admired yourcostume, except for one thing. It's just not feminine enough." He had a cardboard box with him, which he kicked over toElectraWoman's side. "Open it." She opened it, and winced at what was inside. A pink satin and whitelace dress. An oversized little-girl dress. "He's changed the frequency!" said Frank. "I can calculate a newcounterpulse, but it will take a few minutes. I've saved all thesoftware from the last time." "Put it on," said the Puppetmaster. For the. “What are you thinking?” I asked her.“Two things,” she said. “a. I have and idea of how hard it made you. Your costume was a fucking dhoti. So I saw it.”I laughed. “And b.?”“And b. There was no prop in my hand.” She smiled with expectation. I grabbed her bait.“Meaning?”“Meaning, I saw you staring at me from the wings. And the bending-over-pallu-drop was entirely for your benefit.” Her eyes sparkled as she giggled. “Noticed how long I was bent-over? Well, when I stood up, you were looking the other way. So I cursed myself thinking it was all in vain. Only when I saw your engorged dhoti did I realize that you must’ve had a good time watching me. I was hoping, you’d make an effort talk to me or something later. But, you didn’t.”“Gosh! I’m such an idiot.” I felt more than a little foolish.“Yes you are indeed.” She said giggling at me.“Well, I totally imagined banging you wild in that saree backstage that night.”“Pity, that’s about all you did – imagined.” She was still laughing at me..
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Lisa sings for a metal outfit called Death's Hand and, when in character, she goes by the stage name of Blonde Witch of the North. As her name suggests, she rocks platinum blonde hair. Long and dead straight. She struts the stage in a shining, tighter than tight latex catsuit, zippered down well past the navel, her wonderful tits barely held in place with Hollywood tape. As tall and imposing as Lisa already is, she further enhances that on stage with knee high patent leather spike heeled boots. On stage and in life she had real presence. Today however, she was dressed head to foot in rocker babe noir: black leather biker jacket with a tight wife beater under that. The jacket was zipped half way up sort of cinching in to further enhance her wonderful tits, so much better in real life. She had on a tight short skirt and weirdly, heavy biker boots. She had a pair of gold framed aviators stuffed into her hair like much like a princess might wear a bejeweled tiara. Her pile of shit matte.

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