Saturn City was a dangerous place, even for superheroines. The city had become a battleground for a new, lethal street drug: saturnic bromide. The drug was also known as “Saturn Dust,” or just “Dust.” The underfunded police department was outmatched; there was no way to stop the crime wave, except for the daring girl in the patent leather suit, with the sides trimmed down in an oval to expose her perfect, flat belly. Belly Girl. That’s what the criminals had started calling her. She liked it. She even wore a trinket, on the end of a silver chain that pierced her belly button that traced the initials “BG” in gold. Let them stare at it, she thought. Let them stare at it as she kicked their asses; her belly would be the last thing they saw.
A mask made of the same material as her body suit stretched over her head, leaving large oval slits for her eyes and a slit for her mouth, which was decorated with her black lipstick. Her long black hair spilled behind her shoulders from under her cap, which she tied behind her head. She wore knee-high, plain leather boots. She wore black, fingerless gloves. And that was her outfit. She loved the way it accentuated her hard stomach and hugged her curves. It was her belly that they all talked about, her smooth, fit, white belly. It was the star of the show.
Belly Girl, hid her lithe body under the cover of darkness, lying in wait for the bad guys. Other than being an alluring figure in a skin-tight outfit, she was just a normal girl. She had no supernatural powers. However, her lightning reflexes and daunting speed made her extraordinary. She could hit a guy before he ever knew what was coming to him. She had never had any formal training in the martial arts, but just had an intuitive sense for it, a born natural, born to be a superheroine.
A lot of the drug deals took place at the park. Even her regular presence there didn’t deter the bold criminals. She had to kick their asses, over and over again. They never learned. She watched two cars pull up next to each other at the edge of the park. Her intuitions told her, and her intuitions were always right, that a drug deal was about to take place. She left her hiding place, where she had been staking out the park, and crept towards the street where the cars were standing, her black suit cloaking her. She saw two men get out of each car, holding briefcases. She sprinted. In a moment, the men would exchange briefcases, get back into their cars, and the drug deal would be over. Not if she could help it.
“Hey!” she yelled, catching them off guard. They hadn’t noticed the lithe form stalking them from across the park. “Why don’t you just hand me the dust.” She stood with her arms crossed, one leg out to the side. It was Belly Girl’s pose.
“Why don’t you die belly bitch!” One of the men, standing by the trunk of a car, pulled out a gun. Belly Girl knew he would do that. She had already reached under her boot and pulled out one of her throwing knives. With expert skill, the knife sliced through the air, lodging deeply into the man’s chest, before he could pull off a shot. The man slumped down to the ground and was dead within moments.
“Do any of you other boys have guns?” Belly Girl taunted. The three remaining men turned away from the street and came towards her. They were no match for Belly Girl. She swept the first man with her leg so quickly that he didn’t even realize what had happened until he hit the ground. A spinning kick to the solar plexus paralyzed the second man. A glare from beneath the oval slits in her mask was all that was needed to take down the third man, who ran across the street, terrfied. Belly Girl grabbed the loot; the money and the drugs. The money she would keep for herself. If the score was too big she made anonymous donations to charity with the drug dealers’ money. Hah! They would love that. The drugs she would promptly turn into the police. Belly Girl walked back to a dark alley where her black Ducati lay hidden in the shadows- the Belly Mobile. Belly Girl hopped on the sleek, powerful motorcycle and zoomed through the streets back to her apartment, hanging on to the vibrating handlebars with her fingerless gloves. If there was one thing she loved more than her belly, it was her blistering fast Italian super bike.
It was the walk up the steps to her apartment that she hated the most. Sometimes she would bump into one of her neighbors in her revealing costume. “It’s a fetish,” she would say, shrugging her shoulders. None of them knew she was Belly Girl. Belly Girl kept herself out of the public eye. Her neighbors didn't even know that there was a superheroine loose in the city. The only people who knew about her were the criminals, drug dealers, and lowlifes. Fortunately, none of those people lived in her apartment complex. If they did, she would take care of them.
Belly girl peeled the tight suit off her slender body. There was a zipper down the back that allowed her to squeeze into it. Her body was bare underneath. It made the suit fit more comfortably. She put on her night clothes, brushed her teeth like any normal girl, got under the covers and fell asleep. It was 4 am. An early night for Belly Girl. Superheroine hours.