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Tales of the Transformatrix
But this thread is something different. It's for "one-off" stories set in the Transformatrix Universe, but standing outside the main continuity. It's for writers who want to add their own characters to the existing cast and explore their own corner of the TU, without submitting to the restrictions of an interactive story-line.
yaracyrrah has agreed to let his story of an interrupted bath kick off this new thread.
["Tales of the Transformatrix" is also the theme of the current story workshop -- so any "Tale" written before the January 31 deadline can be submitted as a workshop entry instead.]
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The hot bath was not hot. A steaming, rolling boil wasn't even warm to a woman who could survive comfortably at the heart of the Sun. But the girlish elation Laura had felt when she'd first discovered her powers had not yet passed (and truth be told, she hoped it never would). Boiling baths weren't more relaxing, they were just more fun.
She read as she bathed, from the line of books she'd placed on her coffee table in the living room, upright and facing the bathtub. Half the pages were backward, but she could still average a page a second, three full novels in a 20-minute soak. (When she felt like a challenge she left the books lying down; deciphering print from cross-sections of ink patterns had at first cut her reading speed by a factor of ten, but practice had recouped half that.) She'd always been a voracious reader, but now she read dozens of books every day, even hundreds if her schedule was clear and duty chose not to call. She alternated between the science-fiction she'd always loved, the classic literature she'd never really had time for, and the non-fiction she felt she needed to make the most of her gifts. She was focusing on atomic physics and biochemistry, two field where enormous good could be done and where super-vision--more acute than any electron microscope--gave her an enormous advantage. Several hundred super-women might be able to protect the world, but only technology could transform it.
She broke off her study as a distinctive sound reached her ears. Super-vision might be good for science, but super-hearing was downright essential for the hero thing. The sound was glass being shattered: a pane, almost certainly a house window, by a solid metal object--hammer? She looked: nope, crowbar. Attempted B&E in Needham, about nine miles from her apartment. It could have been halfway to New Hampshire for all the difference it made to her senses, but the area's criminals hadn't quite learned that yet. Oh well, it made her famous.
The would-be burglar drew back his crowbar to strike again, to widen the hole he'd started. He brought his arm strongly forward--and yelped in pain, because the crowbar didn't follow. It did move when the pain made him let go, but it didn't fall; it moved up and back, over his shoulder, out of his reach.
He spun around and saw what he'd refused, when planning this job, to believe he'd see. Clad as usual in her daring costume, black to match her hair against her perfect fair skin: the strapless halter top, so obviously supported by rather than supporting her super-firm breasts; the relatively modest briefs; the lightweight boots, low-brimmed with two-inch spike heels. Her breasts were level with his eyes: she was floating two feet above the ground. SuperBabe.
"Give me the gun, or you wanna play first?" she inquired sweetly.
He meekly handed it over; he knew perfectly well that all shooting her would do was lengthen his jail term. "Geez, bitch," he commented, "don't you ever sleep?"
"You wish," she teased, ignoring the insult. "C'mon, let's go see the--"
He didn't hear the last word: it was left hanging in the air as she gripped his belt with her free hand and in the blink of an eye carried him to Needham's City Hall. He recovered his bearings as she waited for automated doors to open; she strode inside, still casually holding his 220 pounds well off the ground.
She'd been here before, of course, and even once during the graveyard shift; the same cop was working the desk, and she didn't need his nametag to remember his name. "Hey John," she greeted casually, as he tried to recover his professional mien. "Attempted burglary, armed, at 1162 Stone Circle." She set the crowbar and gun on the counter and set the crook on his feet, and made sure he was balanced before letting go of his belt. "You gonna talk?" she asked him, with the merest hint of a suggestion in her tone.
"Not without a lawyer," he said, trying to sound confident.
She shrugged; she knew any lawyer would all but order him to plea bargain. "Book him, John-o," she said, with a smile for the dutiful cop. "I'm gonna go fix the window he broke." She turned and walked to the doors, letting both men stare freely at her perfect figure, tight ass and muscular legs. She waited again for the automatic doors and then took off, heading northeast.
A split second's flight brought her to her favorite secluded beach, a small island just off the coast near the New Hampshire border. When she'd first tried fusing sand into glass it had taken her half a dozen tries to get good quality, but once she'd discovered the tricks it was easy: purify first and don't try to rush. 2000F to purify, then twice that to melt and to correct flaws in setting; 208 seconds overall, with nanoscale precision. It was almost enough to quality as taxing; she paused to blink twice, at languorous normal speed, before applying 6000F to cut the sheer edges a windowpane required. Picking up the still-hot glass with one hand, she used the other to rub out the remaining evidence of her handiwork (check that: visiwork): technically she was trespassing, though the island's owners rarely used it. Then she returned to 1162 Stone Circle. With an amused smirk, she tossed her fragile creation into the air; by the time it rose thirty feet and came down, she had destroyed the remains of the old window, gathered up every shard speck of glass from inside the house, and crushed all the fragments to microscopic dust. As the motes fell from her hands toward the landscape mulch, she gently caught the descending pane, and seconds later her repair job was complete.
The house's owners would never know that anything had happened, unless they somehow happened to notice that one of their dining room windows was now much cleaner. (It was much higher quality, too, but their senses weren't good enough to discern that.) It had been a lot of work, relatively speaking, especially since it was actively detrimental to her reputation: no public notice of the crime meant no public gratitude toward her for having foiled it. But her reputation didn't really need any more burnishing, and in any case, though she enjoyed the perks of her fame, she enjoyed even more the satisfaction of a job well done. She was vain, yes, but she was also conscientious: she wanted to *be*, not just to be viewed as, a true hero. One month into her new life, she was extremely satisfied with the work she'd done.
Her bath was still faintly steaming when she got home.
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I had seen the reports on the news. Women from all walks of life suddenly gaining powers that rivaled those of Superman and Supergirl. Actresses. Singers. Cheerleaders. The girl next door. All of them had--without warning--became literal goddesses.
And it had been so easy to facilitate evidently. All one had to do was to log onto a website, post something about a particular woman, and bam, near instant supergirl.
I have to admit that the temptation was more than a little overwhelming.
So I took the chance. Because of me, four women I know have the power of gods.
Before we go any further, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Steve Masterson. My life is--or was--fairly mundane. I live in a small city in New Hampshire. I work at McDonald's. I pay my taxes. I go to college part time. I'm twenty-five years old. All my life, I have had a fascination with superwomen. When Supergirl first burst onto the scene several years ago, I had instantly fallen in love. Granted, I wasn't the only one, judging from the number of members of the message board in question. The idea of a young, beautiful woman who was totally impervious to harm. Who possessed near limitless physical power. For a guy like me, it seemed like an unattainable fantasy.
And then it all began to change.
Six months ago, news began to spread about celebrities inexplicably gaining immense power. Jessica Alba. Avril Lavigne. And--God help us--Paris Hilton. Coincidentally, all these instances occured shortly after someone on the message board made mention of their wish that these women possessed superpowers. It wasn't too hard to make the connection.
After some thought, I decided to post on the board. I talked about several of my co-workers who I thought would make great superheroines. Women who I had been somewhat taken with. Mere fantasies.
Within days, I recieved a package in the mail. Inside were four items that looked for all the world like small flashlights. In addition to these devices, there was a letter, instructing me on how to use them. One per girl. In all honesty, I figured that it was some sort of scam. Still, I couldn't help but take a chance at it. I mean, what harm could there be?
So, one night, I brought one of the devices--a Transformatrix 4000--to work. Just to see what would happen. By chance, a girl whom I had had a crush on for a very long time was also working that night. We had been friends up to that point, though I secretly wished that we were more. But that would probably never happen. She was dating another co-worker. A manager who I viewed as being a complete putz. She could do better I thought. Not with me. Someone better than either of us. At least that's how I saw it.
Her name was Claire Lewis. Nineteen of mixed English-Vietnamese descent, she was a vision of beauty in my eyes. Though somewhat short for my tastes, standing at only 5'3", she carried herself with a certain dignity. A strong, lovely face with deep brown eyes was framed by long dark hair, though she always kept it in a functional bun while on the clock. A slender figure with curves in the right places completed the package. I had been taken with her since the moment I had first met her.
So that night, I saw her there, standing with her back to me as we took inventory. We were alone. Without thinking, I pulled the Transformatrix out of my pocket, aimed it at her back, and shined a beam of light on her. It only lasted a few seconds, Claire not noticing a thing. Nothing happened. Shaking my head, I put the device back in my pocket, silently cursing myself for my stupidity. I'd also been thankful that I hadn't spent any money on the damn things.
The rest of the night went by fairly uneventfully. I notice however something unusual about Claire. She seemed a little fatigued. Moreso than usual, given the insanity of our jobs. She also seemed to possess a voracious appetite, getting more than her usual salad when she went on her lunch break. Still, I didn't think anything of it.
Then she fainted. She'd been standing in the crew room, a look of distress on her face. By chance, I'd been there at the time. Without warning, she collapsed. I managed to catch her in time, cushioning her fall as I lowered her gently to the floor. What was happening? Was it because of that flashlight? Was I responsible?
"Claire?" I asked, my concern and panic growing. She was breathing. Thank god for that.
After what seemed like an eternity--though in reality, it had been only a few minutes--Claire slowly opened her eyes. Our gazes locked for a moment, the concern evident on my face and the confusion on hers. Slowly, I helped her to her feet. Absently, I noticed how...firmer her arms felt through her shortsleaved shirt. Hell, it felt like her arms were made of warm steel. Then it hit me. Maybe it had worked.
I pushed that thought to the side as I helped her to a chair. She seemed none the worse for wear. Hell, she looked a little better than usual. Being a guy, I couldn't help but noticed that her whole body seemed...fitter...for lack of a better term. Her chest was certainly more noticeable.
"You okay?" I asked, moving a chair so that it would face her and sitting down.
"I think so," she replied, rubbing her temple with her right hand. Lowering it, she regarded my silently, her dark eyes boring into me. She'd obviously seen the panic and concern on my face a moment ago. Her expression was neutral for the most part, though I could see the corner of her mouth quirking up a little, like she was about to smile. She had a very nice smile.
"I'm okay Steve," she finally said, reaching over to gently pat my hand. "I just need some air. You can come if you want."
Standing, we made our way out of the crew room and towards one of the restaraunt's exits. Claire took the lead, grasping the handle firmly. At that moment, the immediate area was filled with the sound of distressed metal. Looking down, my eyes widened at what I saw.
Claire's slender hand was in the process of crushing the aluminum bar. Seemingly with no effort at that. Looking her in the face, our eyes once again locked. It was pretty clear that she was as shocked as I was. I opened my mouth, trying to say something. Anything that would be appropriate to this new development. This was my doing. I made her this way. God knows what she would do to me if and when she found out. Things would certainly change. I tried to think of something profound. All that came out were two simple words that seemed wholely appropriate.
to be continued....
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It worked. It had actually worked. Claire Lewis was now a superwoman. And I was responsible.
"Um...Steve?" she said, her tone of voice bordering on panic as she let go of the handle. She could probably tell that I was in a daze. I mean, Jesus Christ, she was a goddess.
Waving a hand in front of my eyes, she slapped me on the arm with the other. It felt like I'd been tackled from the side by a three hundred pound linebacker, the force of the blow causing me to stumble and fall several feet away. The air exploded from my lungs with the impact.
"Steve!" Claire gasped, clearly shocked by what she'd inadvertently done. In an instant, she was kneeling by my side, her expression having crossed the border into becoming one of panic. In retrospect, it was fortunate that we were the only two people in the restaraunt by that point, having closed half an hour ago.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked, fear and concern in her voice. She sat their on her heels, clearly afraid of touching me. I could only image what it must've been like for her at that moment. To be afraid of one's own strength. To think that you were a monster. At that moment, I regretted what I had done to her. I had caused her to gain these powers without asking her in the first place. What right had I had to make that choice?
"I'm alright," I responded, slowly gaining my bearings as I sat up. "Just a little winded is all." Once again, our gazes locked. Christ, she looked terrified. Terrified of herself. "Really," I said, reaching over to give her hand a gentle squeeze. Despite her strength, her hand felt no different than any other girls. We stayed like that for a moment before I remembered certain things. Her boyfriend for example.
"Right," I said, pulling my hand back. "Sorry." We weren't a couple, no matter how much I wanted to be. I was just some schlub she worked with. Maybe a friendly acquaintance. Nothing more. Shaking my head, I let out a short breath as I slowly got to my feet.
Maybe Claire had seen that look in my eye, or guessed what was meant by my expression. Still haven't found out for sure. In any case, she seemed to get over that fear of touching me.
"Here," she said, standing and gently grasping my upper arm. With zero effort on her part, she pulled me to my feet and then some. I found my feet dangling a few inches off the floor, totally supported by the pale, slender hand gripping my arm. I'm pretty damn sure that surprised her, given how weightless my two hundred and forty pounds must've felt to her.
She held me aloft for a good two minutes before I finally spoke.
"Well," I began, taking on a casual tone, "this is...interesting. While it wouldn't bother me too much to stay like this all night, we still have a few things to do before we can get out of here."
"Oh, right," she said, gently lowering me to my feet. "Sorry." Taking a step back, she looked away, her cheeks taking on a rosy tint. She was actually blushing. The resident ice queen. It was certainly becoming an interesting night, to say the least.
"I...um...I want to try something," Claire said after a moment, looking at me again. I was about to respond when without warning, she vanished. Well, not so much vanished. In actuality, she was moving so fast that I couldn't follow her. I did feel a strong breeze around me though.
I watched in wonder as chairs were tabled, dishes were washed, the floor was swept, and every other task completed near instantaneously. It had probably taken no more than a few seconds.
As suddenly as she had vanished, Claire reappeared in front of me. She was no longer in her uniform, having changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. In her street clothes, I had a better look at the changes in her body. While she'd always been pretty slender--in the time I had known her--she'd never possessed much muscular definition. That had definately changed tonight. Her bare arms looked like they belonged on a fitness competitor. A hard six pack was visible through the inch of skin between the hem of her shirt and the waist of her jeans. And as a guy, I gotta say that said jeans encased one of the best rears I'd ever seen.
I stood there speechless, my body running on automatic as I caught my jacket and knapsack, which she had tossed me. "Uh...thanks," I said, pulling on the jacket. I usually stayed in uniform after work, given that I usually headed straight home.
Shaking my head, I exited the restaraunt with Claire after she'd killed the lights and set the alarm. We had both driven to work that night, so I figured we'd part ways in the parking lot, as usual. Walking to my car, I was about to pull out my keys when her voice caused me to stop.
"Steve," she began, approaching me from behind, "I don't think I can trust myself behind the wheel tonight. Mind giving me a lift?"
Three guesses as to what my response was.
to be continued...
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"Yeah, I liked it." I stole a sidelong glance at the lobby poster, wondering if I'd be able to find a copy on eBay -- and if I could get away with hanging it in my workroom.
It was after eight o'clock, but a clear twilight lingered over the small Vermont town. The tourist season hadn't begun yet, and the main street was quiet. Our car was parked just a few yards away from the town's one-screen movie theater.
"Thank you for the movie, O best beloved," I said.
"Thank you for dinner."
"Happy three-month anniversary."
"Back at you."
There was a Baskin Robbins across the street. "Want to get some ice-cream?"
"We've got some back at the cabin," she reminded me. "Besides, you know I'm trying to lose these extra pounds."
I wrapped my arms around her from behind and placed my right palm flat against her stomach. "Where are these extra pounds you keep talking about?" I asked. "I've never been able to see them. Maybe I should get my eyes checked."
Alison turned and gave my face a light, playful slap. "Don't you dare," she grinned.
She got into the passenger seat. I walked around to the rear of the car and took a parcel out of the trunk. It was the size of a shoe box -- in fact, it was a shoe box -- wrapped in shiny red paper and tied with a white ribbon.
"What's that?" Alison asked as I seated myself behind the wheel and set the parcel down on the seat between us.
"It's your other anniversary present," I told her, pulling out of our parking space.
"Ooh. Can I open it?"
"Mmmm ... no. You'll have to wait until we get back to the cabin."
"Stinker." Then she added, slyly, "Well, I've got another present for you."
"Oh, yeah? Where is it?"
"Back at the cabin. So you'll just have to wait, too."
"Fair enough," I grinned.
The tiny town was already behind us; we were passing the roadhouse where we'd had dinner a couple of hours before. I turned right, slowing to shift gears as the car began to climb the long steep dirt road that led to the cabin we'd rented for the weekend.
Alison and I fell into a companionable silence, enjoying the picture-postcard view of the northern Vermont countryside. A steep slope dropped off to our left, and a wooded hillside rose to our right, under a sky shifting gradually from blue to purple.
"So," Alison said suddenly. "Who did you like better -- Uma or Anna?"
A lesser man might have flinched, but after three months of marriage I was pretty adroit at handling a curve ball like that ... or so I liked to think.
"Well," I said judiciously. "I liked G-Girl's costumes. They were very ... stylish, and I thought Uma wore them well. But Anna Faris ... " I grinned. "That blonde hair ... that incandescent smile ... those big blue eyes ... "
Since that was an accurate description of Alison as well, I thought I'd come up with a pretty safe answer. Alison turned up a corner of her mouth in wry acknowledgment of my parry. When she'd learned that I'd spent a summer in Ireland, a couple of years before I met her, she declared that I hadn't just kissed the Blarney Stone -- I must have made out with it.
"Apparently you thought the bedroom scenes were pretty funny," she said.
"Oh, yes -- especially the one at the end, when Anna Faris pushed the bed right though the wall and into the neighbor's apartment." I wondered if Alison had noticed me adjusting the front of my trousers in the darkened theater. Probably she had. Something else I'd learned in the past three months: Wives always notice things like that.
Alison laid a hand on my shoulder, gazing at me in mock earnestness. "Just remember, sweetie," she said. "It was only a movie."
"I know, I know. But -- WHOA!"
They say your whole life flashes before your eyes in a situation like this, but that wasn't my experience. I only recall a jumble of disconnected impressions -- the other car careening toward us from behind a curve in the road ahead ... the steering wheel digging into my palms as I tightened my grip on it ... the shriek of metal scraping against metal and the snap of splintering wood. I turned toward Alison. Her eyes were wide with terror and her mouth was open. Was she screaming? I couldn't tell ...
* * * * * *
Alison spoke first. "What -- what happened?"
Riding a wave of adrenaline, I replied with calm precision. "I swerved to avoid that oncoming driver. Our car went over the barrier and now we're caught in the branches of a tree -- an elm, I think -- just like the jeep in Jurassic Park."
"Does everything have to remind you of some movie?"
"Sorry," I said. "But I don't have a real-life precedent for our present situation."
"So what are we going to do?"
"Well, first of all -- are you okay?"
"Yeah ... yeah, I think so. I'm kinda shook up, that's all." Her voice was starting to quaver. "Oh my God, we could have ... could have been ... "
"Well, we weren't," I said firmly. I leaned across and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The car was tilted to the right, and only my seat-belt kept me from sliding against her. A bough beneath us gave an ominous creak.
Cautiously, I peered out of the window on my side of the car. My insides went watery when I saw that it was a thirty-foot drop to the steep hillside below. Leafy branches were pressed against the window on Alison's side, preventing her from seeing our predicament.
I took a deep breath. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and it required an effort to keep my voice level. "We have to call for help," I said. "Where's your cell phone?"
"In my purse." She looked around her. "Shit. Everything's spilled out. Let me see if I can find it." She shifted in her seat. A branch cracked and the car suddenly tilted another few degrees to the right.
"No!" I yelped. Then, trying to speak calmly, I told her, "We mustn't move. The branch holding us might break and ... well, that would be bad."
"So we just wait here until ... ?"
I saw her point. Besides the one we were renting, there were maybe three or four cabins on the uphill portion of the road. Who knew when one of their occupants might drive by? And it was getting dark ...
Scanning the floor for the cell phone, I saw the present I was planning to give Alison. Carefully, I leaned forward, stretching out my right arm and hooking my forefinger in the bow. I set it in my lap, praying that its contents hadn't been damaged in our mishap.
Alison was watching me curiously. "What are you doing?"
"Opening your present."
"Now?" She blinked, and in the fading light I could see that her eyes were brimming with tears. I knew what she was thinking -- He thinks we're going to die, and he wants me to have my anniversary present ...
I slipped off the ribbon and tore away the shiny red paper. Opening the box, I peeled away a layer of bubble-wrap and carefully took out ...
"A flashlight?" Alison's voice was poised on the verge between laughter and tears. "For our three-month anniversary you went to Home Depot and bought me a frigging flashlight?"
I breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed to be intact. I turned to Alison.
"Listen, jewel of my heart. This isn't a flashlight. I was planning to explain it all to you later, once we got back to the cabin, but ... well, there's no time for that now. This is called a Transformatrix, and it ... well, long story short, it can give you super-powers."
"Oh God, you're delirious," Alison wailed. "Honey, this is real life, not one of those stories on your website. Super-girls ... uber-girls ... whatever -- they're not real. They're make-believe, like that movie we just saw ... " She spoke in the tone a mother might use, explaining to a little boy that the scary monster he'd seen on television was just pretend ...
"Okay," I said, not wanting to waste time arguing. "Maybe I am delirious. Maybe this is just a flashlight. So what harm can it do if I shine it on you?"
Alison sighed. "Whatever makes you happy," she said resignedly.
Under the circumstances, that was all the permission I wanted. I pointed the Trasformatrix at her and pushed the switch, releasing a faint beam of yellowish light, nearly invisible in the crepuscular gloom.
Alison's eyelids fluttered and her head began to sway. Damn, I thought. I'd been advised that many women pass out on exposure to the rays of the Transformatrix ... and that its effects might not be felt for minutes -- even hours. I reached across and gently prodded Alison's shoulder. "Alison -- love of my life -- don't pass out on me, okay?"
Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she raised her head. Remember the leitmotif that played whenever Popeye ate a can of spinach? "I'm Popeye the sailor man ... " I swear, I could almost hear that tune now ...
"How do you feel?"
Alison shook her head and turned to me. Her eyes were shining and a broad, incredulous grin was spreading across her face.
"How do I feel?" she said. "Amazing -- that's how! Absolutely amazing!"
TO BE CONTINUED ...
“Okay, boys.” Emma cocked her hips with a confident smirk blocking the only means of escape from the warehouse, or her. “Are we gonna do this the easy way, or the easier way?”
“Not smart to get in our way, woman.” Five rifles responded to her question. “Now you have to die.”
“Easier it is.” She smiled. Emma had been anxious to try out her new costume. The webmaster called it the “Tempest” costume from the Steele Sister’s get-up of the same name. It was always one of her favorites. A bit of a show-off, she had decided to cut away the triangle of mesh fabric to fully expose her transformatrix-made, thermonuclear powered body. She was proud of how much she filled it out, more than any Steele Sister had, and presented hers body as a happy and willing target.
“Crazy, bitch.” The lead thug shook his head. “I got this.”
He fired two shots into her triangle of exposed skin. His shocked reaction was fairly typical. Emma sighed.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this…” She trailed off. The lead thug stepped closer to ensure a clearer shot. She took two more to her smiling face.
“Why don’t you all join in? Your friend doesn’t seem to be having any luck.”
Several more shots slapped across her body. She expected them to continue. They usually emptied everything they had with the false hope of eventually making some headway toward hurting her. This time they paused. She felt a draft move across her bare arm.
“Hey. Shouldn’t her costume be invulnerable too?”
Emma looked down at herself and the open wounds of her very expensive costume. “Oh, no.”
Five thugs smiled raising their weapons at the very surprised supergirl. Emma could sense the trigger pull, but was frozen with embarrassment.
“Wait. Don’t!” She pleaded. “Argh!”
Bullets burned and ripped away her dignity piece by piece leaving the girl underneath unscathed save for her pride. Despite the harmless nature of the gunfire, she felt the need to cover herself as if someone had sprayed her with freezing water. It seemed an eternity until, finally, the assault stopped. The only sounds made were sizzling barrels and Emma’s panicked heartbeat.
“Nice, man.” They passed around high fives and plenty of props. “Sister is smoking hot!”
“Is it a bit nipply in here, babe?”
“You…freaking…pervs.” Emma huffed. Postage stamp pieces of costume were all that remained. The effect of her nakedness was obvious in all their packages. She was past caring as she stalked closer to the oversexed thugs.
“You’re all about to have a very bad night.”
“So, like, what did you do?”
“I just used some pipe that I’d found and made a little pipe bikini. At least then I had more on than those guys.” Emma allowed herself a victorious grin. “I left them all stripped hanging from a light pole for the morning crowd.”
“That is just too funny.” Steph poked. “ I bet it was really hot, though.”
“Thanks, Steph. With friends like you…”
“Oh cry me a river. Popular, super-gorgeous, and posses enough power to spin the moon on her finger. Excuse me if I’m less than sympathetic.” Steph rolled her eyes at Emma. “So what about the costume people?”
“They took the site down before I could do anything. I have no idea who the seller is. I just hope no other transformee got duped into buying one.”
“The Naked Avenger!” Steph rolled off Emma’s bed laughing.
“Nice costume, Ultragirl!” Officer Labrecque greeted her.
“Thanks!” She smiled. “So where is this little, troublesome bomb of yours?”
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John pulled into the parking lot of Argo Security. He walked in as two of his employees staring at the television.
“Hey, what are you guys watching?” John asked as he glanced over.
“A local fund raiser had a super surprise. Samantha Keller has the story” the anchor said.
“Thanks Steve. Morning show hosts Big Brian and the Badger received a lift after their recent ’48 Hours of Food’ marathon” the reporter said.
(The screen shows Mindy Marvel, in front of a small crowd, holding up the two radio personalities on a bench with one arm while flexing the other.)
“Mindy Marvel was there because the #1 rated duo surpassed last years total of food collected” the reporter continued.
(The screen now shows a close-up of Mindy talking to the reporter.)
“It’s a fun time for a great cause. Everyone was so generous, especially when money is tight for everyone. I’m glad to do anything I can to help those less fortunate” Mindy said.
“Mindy signed autographs for a group of youngsters at the event and posed for pictures. The money and food collected will be sent to food pantries across the city. For Action 4 news, I’m Samantha Keller”.
“Man, that Mindy Marvel is hot. I’d love to get under that cape” said Mark, a co-worker of John’s.
“I know” replied Jason, another co-worker, “The body, that tight costume, those eyes. What’s that like John?”
John spits out his coffee in mid-drink.
“Uhhhh, ummm, what do you mean?” he asked.
“Come on man, you and she were practically joined at the hip. You can’t tell me nothing happened” Jason replied.
“Dude, I’m married” he replied. “I would never…”
“I know, and Mel’s a sweetheart, but come on. Don’t you and her have a list of people that would be freebies? Robin and I have a list. She gets Brad Pitt and I get Angelina Jolie” Mark said.
“Yeah, like Angelina would give you the time of day. Maybe, if she had a list of balding middle-aged nobodies.” Jason retorted.
“She did do Billy Bob Thorton” replied Mark.
“I’m grateful for everything that Mindy Marvel did to help save my life, but Mel’s the only woman I want to be with” John said.
“That’s so sweet it makes my teeth hurt” Jason said sarcastically.
“Hey…look” Mark said motioning to the television.
“Breaking news as a bank robbery has now become a hostage situation at LF Building and Loan”. Police and negotiators are on the scene and we have video from Chopper 4” the anchor stated.
“Excuse me guys, I need to make a phone call” John said as he left the room.
Melinda pulled into the parking lot of Poole & Schmidt LLC. Stepping though the sliding glass doors, she was greeted by the receptionist.
“Hi Mel, happy Monday!” she said cheerfully.
“Hi Robin, how was the weekend?” Melinda responded.
“My boyfriend and I spent all weekend moving into our new place. It was exhausting. It’s times like that where I wish I was a super heroine like Mindy Marvel” Robin replied. “Can you imagine what’d it be like to be that strong? I would’ve been done in minutes!”
“Yeah, that would be great” Melinda said, smiling. “I’ll see you at lunch”.
Melinda walked over to the elevator and was about to push the button when an older gentleman approached her, Michael Schmidt, co-founder of the firm.
“Ms. Crane, can I see you in the conference room?” he asked.
“Yes sir, right away” Melinda answered as she walked with him. They both entered the large room and he motioned for her to take a seat.
“Melinda, we’re very pleased with your work since you joined the firm five years ago. And, while it was difficult with you and your husband under such scrutiny, you handled the media with great aplomb and showed that Poole & Schmidt is one of the top firms in the nation”. That’s why, with great pleasure, James Poole and I would like to become a partner in the firm: Crane, Poole, and Schmidt”.
“Wow sir, that’s…that’s great. It’s been a dream of mine to make partner.” Melinda replied, excitedly.
“Well, I’m glad you accept. James and I would like to show you off to the board later on and make it official”.
Melinda couldn’t stop smiling as Mr. Schmidt continued talking. Then she caught a glimpse of the television in the corner. The sound was off, but she could see the news coverage of the hostage situation.
“Ooh, I don’t feel that well Mr. Schmidt” she said.
“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.
Yes sir, I think it’s probably just be the excitement of it all. I’m going to lie down in my office for a few minutes”. Melinda said meekly.
“No problem dear. Just be sure you’re okay for the meeting this afternoon with the partners. I need you at your best” he replied.
Melinda got up and, after shaking hands with Mr. Schmidt, left the conference room. She closed the door behind her and took a few steps down the hall, her fingers playing with the buttons on her clothes. Seeing that the coast was clear, she dashed towards her office. Melinda tugged at her blouse and blazer, exposing the form-fitting blue costume and the yellow lighting bolt of Mindy Marvel.
Then her phone began to ring.
“Hello” she answered, fumbling her cell phone while straightening her clothes in the hall.
“Hey Mel, its John” he replied. “Did you see the news?”
“I did, and I was just getting ready” said Melinda as she closed the office door behind her.
“Well, I was thinking, you shouldn’t just barge in there. Someone could get hurt in the commotion” he said.
“What do you have in mind?” she asked.
“Argo Security installed all their equipment. I can use the computer to access the security cameras and anything else you may need” John said.
“But honey you’re all the way across town, and I don’t want to put you in harm’s way” Melinda replied.
“I can talk to you on your phone with the hands-free headset. It’s small enough that no one will see it”.
“Okay, let’s do it” she said, clipping the headset over her ear. Her scarlet locks, which cascaded down past her shoulders, covered any trace of the device.
Melinda locked the door and removed her blazer. In a few seconds time, her professional work clothes were stashed in a closet and Mindy Marvel took to the skies.
“Can you hear me now?” John asked.
“Yep” Mindy replied.
“Good…It sounds windy” he said.
“Well, I am flying”.
“Oh yeah…when you get to the LF Building and Loan, land on the roof. There’s an entrance there that’ll get you in. It has a pin code that needs to be entered first though” he said.
“Why don’t I just open it the old fashioned way, you know…ripping it off the hinges” she asked.
“Because it’ll set off the alarms” John replied.
“Good reason” Mindy said as she touched down at the building. “What’s the number?”
Mindy punched in the numbers and opened the door. She floated down the stairwell to another locked door.
“So, husband of mine”, she asked, “is this door okay?”
“Absolutely” he replied.
Mindy grasped the door handle and slowly applied pressure to keep the noise down. The metal handle deformed and the locking mechanisms quietly creaked and groaned and she pulled the door open.
“Now I can see one guy down the hallway, who’s armed, with his back towards you. It shouldn’t be a problem” John said.
Mindy walked up behind the man and with a casual flick of her index finger hit him in his temple, knocking him unconscious. She grabbed his firearm and bent it into a small metal ball and laid it next to him.
“Now what?” she asked
“Can I get a Grande Cappuccino with 2%?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry honey. I’m at Starbucks” he said.
“We’re in the middle of a hostage situation and you’re getting yourself coffee?” she said, slightly perturbed.
“I couldn’t help you in the office, so I went next door since they have Wi-Fi. Did you want me to bring you something?” he asked.
“A Venti Tazo Chai Tea Latte with Soy” she said.
“You got it. Now I don’t see anything until you get to the lobby. So you should be able to get there undetected. Now we just have to figure out how to get the people to safety” John replied.
“Question…if you’re seeing all this through the security cameras, what’s stopping them from them using the same cameras to see me coming?” Mindy asked as she approached a door
“Um, nothing, if they have someone over at the security station. But I doubt that’s the case” he said.
As if on cue, a blast came through the door knocking Mindy Marvel through the air and she landed with a thud.
“Well,” she said as she coughed from the dust and debris in the air “I think they know I’m here”.
A large man kicked open what was left of the door and stepped through. Clad in a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt and ski mask to match, he towered over the fallen heroine.
“And who are you, a Terminator rip-off?” Mindy asked defiantly.
“No…I’m the party pooper” he replied as he aimed the large firearm at her.
He squeezed the trigger, causing a thunderous boom to echo throughout the building. Mindy, with her superhuman speed and reflexes, saw the event unfold in front of her. The bright flash, the large shell exiting the barrel, and the trail of smoke that followed. She rolled away with time to spare as it made contact with the concrete floor.
Mindy swept her right leg around catching the man in the back of the legs, dropping him to his knees. She followed up with another kick, this time to his chest which knocked him to ground and caused him to drop his weapon.
“Are you okay honey?” John asked.
“Oh yeah” she replied as she picked up the large gun. “But this is a lot of firepower for a robbery” she continued as the metal crunched between her hands. “Maybe he has it to make up for some…shortcoming.
Mindy turned her back to her attacker and discarded the metal remains as she made her way towards the doorway. The man got back to his feet and began running towards her. He smiled as he was about to grab her when she calmly brought her fist up, making contact right between his eyes. The blow broke his nose and his body, knocked unconscious from the impact, slumped to the floor.
“Yeah, he’s definitely overcompensating”.
Nice! I've always enjoyed your dialogue and characterization, and your sense of humor; but yes, I did think your stories needed more imagery, especially in the action scenes. This is definitely a step forward. Things like the boom and flash of the weapon, and the trail of smoke, really make the scene come to life in the reader's imagination. More, please!
She stepped over the pieces of wood that remained attached to the hinges and walked into the lobby. Her eyes surveyed the situation as frightened employees and customers laid face down on the ground, their hands clasped behind their heads. There were a couple of armed men walking around, making sure no one tried to be a hero.
“Okay guys” she said confidently, with her chest thrust out, hands on her hips, and muscles tensed in her best superhero pose
“It’s Mindy Marvel…get her!” one gunman exclaimed and, as he was just a couple of feet away, pulled out his gun and aimed.
“That’s not a good idea” she replied as her gloved hand moved at super-speed. Her fingers grasped the barrel and deformed to barrel as the trigger was pulled. The ammunition, trapped in the firearm exploded, knocking the man backwards and injuring his hands. She grabbed him by the jacket and lifted him over her head. Mindy then heaved the would-be crook through the air crashing into a nearby table, scattering the pens and deposit slips all over.
While Mindy’s attention was with that man, the other snuck up on her. He took his pistol and slammed it into the back of her head. She stumbled forward a couple of steps and turned around and he pointed the weapon directly into the middle of her chest.
“Say goodnight” he smirked.
He pulled the trigger as he expected the bullet to go through the heroine. Instead the force generated was trapped by her steel-like body, which caused the blast and the momentum involved to be directed back towards the hapless criminal as he fell straight down. He looked up and saw a slightly perturbed Mindy Marvel. His eyes focused on the black smudge on the lightning bolt on her chest as smoke emanated from the area.
“Goodnight” she said and
“Is everyone okay?” she asked.
Then a gunshot rang throughout the building.
“Goodnight” she said as she spun around catching him with a roundhouse kick which sent him flying into the air. He slammed into the wall, next to the poster advertising 4.45% financing on new vehicles.
“Is everyone okay?” she asked.
Then a gunshot rang throughout the building
“All right, that’s enough,” a voice said in the distance. Mindy looked at the vault in the far end of the lobby where two men dressed in black suits and sunglasses walked out. Each man had a gun held against the head of a hostage, one an older man and the other a young woman who was sobbing.
“Let them go” Mindy demanded.
“I don’t think so; you see…they are our ticket out of here” the man said.
“This is getting out of control man” his counterpart said nervously as kept watch on his male hostage. “Shit…I knew this was a bad idea”.
“Shut up Randall!” he yelled.
“Listen to your partner” Mindy replied. “Give yourself up and don’t make this a bigger mistake than it already is”.
“That’s where you’re wrong Mindy Marvel” the leader responded. “We’re in control and we’re going to get everything we came for”.
“And how do you plan to do that?” she asked.
“The art of the deal” he said. “We want the money; you don’t want anyone to die. You might be faster than a speeding bullet but I don’t think you’re fast enough to stop two of them from splattering these people’s brains against the wall”.
Mindy pondered the situation. She knew she could use her super speed could get to them in milliseconds, but a slight miscalculation or a twitchy trigger finger like the one the nervous guy had could mean a bad ending for one of those people.
Mindy concentrated and focused her vision at the target. Energy shot out and blasted the man in the left hand, causing him to yell in pain and lurch backwards as he started to fall to his knees. But, on instinct, he pulled trigger. The lady had taken a step away from the robber but there were only a few inches between the barrel and her skull. Mindy’s eyes widened at this situation. Time moved in slow motion but her mind raced as she dashed towards her. If the woman died because of her, she’d never forgive herself. She stretched her arm out. The back of her glove grazed the lady’s ear as the bullet hit Mindy’s palm, flattening into a small circle before her fingers closed around it.
Randall, now completely panicked, decided to ditch the whole situation. He dropped his weapon and ran towards the emergency exit. He only made it a few steps before he ran into a wall named Mindy Marvel. Stunned, he tried to focus his eyes and collect himself but all he saw was a yellow and blue blur making contact with his stomach, causing him to double over. It was followed up by a quick knee to the face causing him to snap back upright. Finally, Mindy finished him off with a right cross to the jaw; the force threw him back as he crashed into his partner who was still nursing his injured hand.
“It looks like you gentlemen are going to pay a penalty for early withdrawal” she said.
Tiff's fingers tightened around Regina's throat.
Ten thousand feet below, the logging camp was shrouded in black smoke. Mere moments had passed since Tiff's heat vision had detonated the propane tank, but already the old wooden buildings were ablaze, and the flames had spread to the surrounding forest. The cadets were rushing about under Kara's supervision -- evacuating houses, tending to victims, setting up roadblocks on the highway. With her shoulder to the ground, Courtney was flying round and round the blaze at super-speed, scouring out a trench, throwing up an embankment. Tall pine trees toppled like bowling pins as she collided heedlessly against hem. Half a dozen superwomen -- casualties of the first sortie -- lay on the ground, unconscious or groaning in pain; others were tending to their injured comrades or assisting the cadets; for a fleeting moment, Tiff had been forgotten.
Taking advantage of that moment, Tiff had grabbed Regina by the throat and rocketed upwards, dragging the teenage transformee helplessly behind her. Now, two miles above the ground, she held Regina at arm's length, grinning savagely.
"You may be stronger than the others," she sneered, "but I can still make you my bitch. Would you like that? Huh? Would you?"
Regina struggled desperately as Tiff shook her like a rag-doll. Even with her enhanced strength, she couldn't pry Tiff's fingers from her neck. Oh, shit, she thought. This is it -- I'm gonna die. She thrashed her legs, kicking viciously at Tiff's shins, but without effect.
A voice rang out in the thin air. "Let her go!"
It was Gracie. A sob of relief rose in Regina's throat. Come on, Gracie, she thought. Show this freak some of those kung-fu moves.
Tiff turned her head and regarded Gracie through narrowed eyes. "You a cop?"
Gracie moved closer, careful to stay just out of reach. "N.I.B. Listen, why don't you let the girl go and then you and I can talk, okay? You'll have to give up sooner or later. You're strong, I'll give you that -- but there's only one of you and thirty of us. Do the math."
"I hate math!" Tiff lunged forward, swinging at Gracie with her free arm. Gracie ducked, rolled, moved nimbly out of reach.
So much for the "good cop" routine, she thought, eyeing Tiff warily. Change of tactics. If I can keep her distracted, get her to turn that anger on me, she might let go of the kid ...
"Ha!" she said. "You call that a punch? You've got the muscles, but you don't have the mo-ooooooooooves ... "
She barely saw Tiff's arm move; even with her super-reflexes, she couldn't dodge the blow. At the last possible nano-second, she managed to roll with the punch, but it still doubled her over and sent her soaring up, up into the stratosphere like a high outfield fly. Tumbling helplessly, she tried to stop herself, to regain control of her flying power, as Tiff and Regina dwindled below her ...
Tiff turned to Regina. "Your turn, Blondie."
[ To Be Continued! ]
..: :..: :..
I was getting impatient. What is it with women that they can't just arrive on time? We needed to show up for our dinner reservations soon, otherwise they'd probably give our table to someone else. I checked my watch in frustration and was reaching to pick up the phone, when the door burst open.
"There's no time to explain," Audrey said as she ran in and slammed the door behind her, "do me a favor and look outside... tell me if you see anything... strange..." Her wire-rimmed glasses were practically sliding off her face and her dark brown hair was falling messily out of its bun. I'd always known she was a little odd - even before we'd ever started dating. Hey, that was part of her charm! But lately she'd taken it to a whole new level.
"Jeez, you look like you just ran a marathon," I said as I walked over to the window and peered outside. "There's no one out there. What's going on?"
"Good, I must have lost them," she said between breaths. "The last thing I want is them knowing where you live." She kicked off her heels and slid out of her jacket, looking around furtively.
"Them?" I asked. "You were being chased?" My face hardened to a grimace and I walked over to put my arm around her shoulder protectively. I was ready to grab my baseball bat and find out who'd been after my girlfriend, but first I needed to be sure she was okay. "How many of them were there, what did they look like?"
But she didn't even seem to hear me. Her eyes squinted as she turned back towards the door. She seemed like she was listening for something far away.
"Crap, he's still coming," she said absently, muttering under her breath. "They said it was a mistake to let me have em... but I'm not gonna give em back... no way in hell..."
"What are you talking about?", I demanded. "WHO is still coming!? Give WHAT to you!?"
She turned back around to face me. "I'm sorry Joshua, but there's no way to turn back anymore. I guess you of all people should know the truth..." Then she looked me right in the eye, and with the most dead serious expression, said softly "I'm Supergirl."
It took a moment for her words to sink in, but eventually I started laughing. Why would she play like she were a make-believe comic book character? Had she been checking my internet tracks or something? Did I accidentally leave an incriminating browser window open? "Oh ho ho... very funny," I said nervously.
Audrey & I had only been together for a few months - though we'd known each other for years. But I'd always been pretty private, and I was sure there was no way she could have known about my closet 'ubergirl' obsession. So... where was this joke coming from? Surely she must have found me out somehow.
"If you're Supergirl, then I must be Batman," I deadpanned, putting my hands on my hips and puffing up my less-than-superheroic physique. I wasn't sure where she was going with this, but I was feeling uneasy. Like I'd just been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
She cracked a swift smile, but it only lasted for a moment. Sighing, she said "I figured you wouldn't believe me. I guess there's really only one way to prove it..."
And with that, she reached up to remove her glasses, tucking them into her breast pocket. Her hands moved to her head, shaking her long chestnut brown hair free to fall across her shoulders. Then, clenching her fists and bringing her arms to cross in front of her, she shouted "This looks like a job for SUPERGIRL!"
Instantly, a loud KABOOM echoed through my apartment, and an intense multi-colored flash exploded from the place her wrists had crossed. I raised my hand to block the glare from my eyes, and when the light had faded just a few moments later, I was faced with a sight I'd only seen in my dreams. Gone was the body of my short, skinny, and (endearingly) dorky girlfriend. In her place stood the most incredibly fit and well-proportioned female I'd ever seen.
Yet, while the electric sparkles of light still danced around her frame - and before I could even make out anything aside from her silhouette - I was first overcome by a feeling of lightness and euphoria. A subtle, sweet scent filled my nostrils, and my heart began beating harder and harder. A tingling feeling ran up and down my spine, and I could suddenly feel my hormones raging as if I were an adolescent boy having his first ever fantasy. What the hell was happening!?
When her lights fizzled out a moment later, and I was finally able to unshield my eyes, I blinked a few times before realizing that she'd somehow grown from only 5"3 to about 5"8 or so. Her hair had lightened considerably to take on an almost impossible golden hue, and hung in long waves down to the small of her back. It framed a face that would have put a supermodel to shame -- deep blue eyes, a small upturned nose, and lush full lips. High cheekbones, with a deceptively delicate-looking chin and jawline. She now sported wide hips and gorgeous long legs. Flawless tanned skin. A thin and graceful neck led down to wide shoulders. Her strong, broad chest trimmed down to an impossibly slim waist - and supported the largest AND perkiest pair of breasts I'd ever seen. I couldn't take my eyes off them! She stood with her hands on her hips, her entire physique looking as though it had been supercharged... and though she hadn't become especially 'muscular,' it was instantly apparent that her fitness level was now completely off the charts. No regular girl could have sported the impossible combination of strength and femininity - of softness AND power - that Audrey did at that moment. And yet, despite all of these radical changes, I could still see that underneath it all... she was very much the same girl... just dramatically improved!
In fact, she had become so undeniably gorgeous so quickly - and my reaction to her transformation so visceral - that it took me a moment to even notice her outfit. But when I did, my jaw dropped even further. No longer in a T-shirt and baggy jeans, Audrey was now swathed in a brightly colored lycra/spandex-looking getup that was straight out of my imagination. My heart was beating furiously. I couldn't stop myself from staring... scanning her from head to toe and back again... striving to burn every last detail to permanent memory. Knee-high red boots were wrapped tightly around her lower legs. A silky, pleated red dancer's skirt hung only to the very tops of her thighs. A thick gold belt connected the skirt to an ultra-thin, semi-shiny blue top - seemingly tailored to hug every last subtle curve of her impossibly fit physique. The unmistakable yellow "S" symbol stretched across her chest - struggling to contain her almost disproportionately large, gravity-defying breasts. How amazing and perfect they were! Even the shape of her nipples were clearly visible - poking out proudly from underneath the skin-tight fabric. A floor-length red cape hung down her back, framing the vision of perfection that stood proudly before me.
"Wh... wh... what the hell? Audrey... you're... you're really..." I was in such disbelief, and my body had become so excited, that my mouth couldn't even form the words. "you're... HER!"
Her lips curled into a proud and toothy smile. "In the flesh." And with a dramatic curtsy and an extended arm, she said "Supergirl, at your service!" A soft giggle escaped her lips as she stood up perfectly straight, her taut physique so proudly displayed, the sunlight reflecting off the shiny material of her uniform. I couldn't tear my eyes away. My heart beat furiously - the ever-growing bulge in my pants becoming more and more obvious. But I didn't care. I barely even noticed. I couldn't think straight - my eyes overwhelmed by her sheer physical beauty, my senses reeling from the scent of her, my mind still spinning from watching the impossible transformation from regular girl to superhuman goddess.
"B... but... but how?" I stumbled over my own words. What was going on?
Audrey raised one eyebrow, regarding me with an amused look an her face, and folded her arms across her chest. My eyes were instantly drawn downward - as though I wasn't even in control of them anymore - to blatantly stare at her breasts pressing into one another. It was incredible, the way the impossibly thin spandex-like material clung to the perfect oversized half-spheres on her chest - remaining absolutely skin-tight, even in the deepest valley of her cleavage.
Clearly amused by the captivating power she held over me, Audrey uncrossed her arms to place them on her hips. Her incredible breasts bounced back into place - high and tight on her ribcage - and she shifted her weight from one hip to the other. My god, she was a dream come true. I couldn't stop staring.
"Ahem. My eyes are up here." She giggled, springing up and down on her tiptoes a few times -- intentionally torturing me with the irresistible sight of her flawless body on proud display. When I finally managed to bring my gaze up to her face, she winked and began walking towards the window.
"I'll be right back," she said in a lilting soprano as she unlatched the window, pushed it open, and hopped up to perch on the sill - 3 stories above the street. "I've got some loose ends to tie up first."
Then, before I even had a chance to respond, Audrey pushed off. She spread her arms out to her sides as she glided out past the fire escape -- continuing in a straight line before coming to a hovering stop directly above the street. No way! She could fly! My girlfriend could actually fly!
I ran over to the window, unwilling to let her out of my sight for even the briefest moment, and watched as her playfully innocent expression quickly changed to one of serious determination. I could see her scanning the roadway in the distance - and in only a few seconds, it was clear she had found what she was looking for. She clenched her fists - the sexy cuts of her tight little muscles easily visible through the ultra-thin skin-tight fabric of her uniform - and twisted her body around to fly head first towards the intersection down the block. I couldn't make it out clearly, but an instant later, an explosion of dust and concrete echoed up from the street.
In a few more moments, Audrey was floating back out of the huge crater she'd made, with a strange glowing object in her hands. People on the street gawked and pointed. I saw more than one digital camera snapping shot after shot. Then, without even glancing in my direction, my girlfriend-turned-superheroine shot straight up into the clouds.
I wanted to yell out to her. I wanted to scream "come back!" But I held my tongue, not wanting to draw any attention. In a few moments, she had disappeared completely from view. I couldn't believe she'd traveled miles into the air in a matter of seconds. And then, from behind the clouds, a giant explosion boomed - casting a bright orange light across the midday sky. Everything was moving so quickly. Was this all really happening?
Just another moment passed when I heard the doorknob turning behind me. I spun on my heels to watch as Supergirl -- no, she had shrunk back to her petite 5'3 and was dressed as plain-old Audrey again -- strode confidently back into the apartment. "Sorry, had to get that out of the way," she said as she clapped her dusty hands together and adjusted her glasses. "Now, where were we again?"
I wanted to answer, to say something witty and charming, but apparently I had been robbed of the ability to formulate a complete sentence. "Uh... umm.... uhmm..." I stuttered along, still unable to speak. How frustrating!
"Oh, that's right," she continued on, "you were just about to ask me something. What was it again?"
"...ddd ...h... how!?" I was surprised I could even get that much out. My tongue was completely paralyzed.
She smiled at me, an amused look on her face. "Oh Joshua... don't pretend you don't know. This IS all thanks to you."
"W... what do you mean 'thanks to me'?"
She just laughed and walked gently over the the computer table on the far side of the room. My hormones were raging furiously. Audrey may have reverted to her 'mortal' form, but just the knowledge of what she had become was enough to force my hands to cover my lap, my legs crossing in a vain attempt to disguise my surging arousal. I had been rendered completely useless!
She eyed my crotch with girlish amusement as she made her way over to my desk. *clack clack clack* Without another word, she tapped out a URL into an open browser window. I craned my neck just in time to see the SuperWomenMania Forum load onscreen. Another couple of clicks and the incriminating evidence was laid out before me.
Subfolder: 'I WISH SHE WAS SUPER'
Thread title: 'MY GIRLFRIEND AUDREY'
Opening post: 'Well I'm not gonna post any pix here because she would absolutely kill me if she saw me showing her off online. But my girlfriend Audrey has to be the most perfect transformation candidate in the world! She's a total hottie - but not in that slutty show-off-y way. Actually she's more like a female Clark Kent - with this unassuming nature, modest style of dress, and even the big chunky glasses (which are so cute on her IMO!) She might not have double Ds -- but her petite little body is still really nice! I'd never let her know that almost every time we have sex, I'm imagining her as Supergirl... but if she just happened to magically transform into Supergirl because I wished for it hard enough... well then I wouldn't have to explain, would I? "
She smiled as she turned back around, a "what-do-you-have-to-say-for-yourself-now?" look on her face. I sighed and slumped my head. Busted! "B.. but... you mean to tell me you actually got superpowers because I wrote your name on a message board!? But... that doesn't make any sense... how come none of these other posts turned anyone into Supergirl? There's like 15 pages of fanboy fantasies laid out there..."
"I can't answer that," she said. "I just know that, when this guy knocked on my door with a laptop in one hand, and a weird flashlight-looking thing in the other - and proceeded to show me this... community you've been a part of for god-knows-how-long... and then offered me a chance to become your ultimate fantasy girl... that I wasn't about to say no."
I couldn't believe my ears. "Wh... what guy?"
"I don't know his name. But from the sound of it, he must have gotten in pretty big trouble with his bosses - because not twenty minutes later, he was back at my door asking for a reversal of the contract."
"Contract?" My head was spinning, "what kind of contract? Audrey... what the hell is going on here!?"
She giggled again, rolling her eyes at me as she adjusted the fit of her t-shirt over her petite shoulders. "Not quite as quick on the uptake as you usually are, eh Joshua?" She put her hands back on her hips and sighed. She might have looked exactly the same as she always had, but there was still something very different about her - now that I knew the power she had hidden away. "Look - I don't know all the details, and I don't really think they're all that important. Some guy with some kind of magic flashlight turned me into Supergirl, and that's good enough for me. To tell you the truth, I was kind of hoping you might have some answers. After all... this is your doing."
I just stood there, stunned an speechless for a few moments. "So... then that orange light... that hole in the street you just made... that was the guy coming to take your powers away?"
"And... you... killed him!?"
"Oh dear lord, of course not! What kind of Supergirl do you think I am!? I just confiscated his little flashlight thingee and crushed it into bits. I'm not trying to kill anyone you know!"
"But what if he comes back again?"
"Then I'll just have to take care of him again. It's not that hard." She lifted both of her arms into a double-bicep stance and smiled. She almost looked comical standing there in her non-super form - a 5"3/105lb girl posing like a bodybuilder - but the message came through loud and clear regardless.
Even after everything I'd just witnessed, it was still hard to believe that my little Audrey was capable of such amazing feats. Just standing there before me - dressed in a jacket and skirt, and looking the same as she always did - I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that she'd now become the living embodiment of my most ridiculous adolescent fantasies.
"So... you're not mad that I've been going behind your back to these internet sites then?"
Audrey laughed. "Well I probably would have been -- if I didn't find out about it by being transformed into a goddess!"
I laughed nervously. This was all a bit too much for me to take, and I actually had to put my hand on my desk to steady myself. Even though I'd seen her transform with my own eyes, now that she had 'reverted' to her normal self, I found myself struggling to believe what I'd seen. Whispering sheepishly, I muttered "so then, you're really Supergirl? Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive... all that?"
She smiled demurely, brushing off my question completely as she changed the subject. Turning to the mirror to check that her glasses were in place and her hair tied back up neatly into a bun, she fixed her dinner skirt and asked "so then, our reservations are in ten minutes - are you ready to go yet?"
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I've always assumed that a Transformatrix was a no-strings-attached freebie -- but your story suggests that whoever has been handing them out may have an agenda. Or perhaps Audrey's transformation was part of a scheme by Dr. Klyburn (the only person -- as far as we know -- who's figured out how a Trtansformatrix works). Maybe some other writer will pick up on these possibilities.
Just one nit-pick: In the "T4K Universe," the counterpart of our website is called UberGirlFrenzy (or UGF).
How did you tell your wife / girlfriend about your ubergirl "interest" -- or how did she find out about it -- and what was her reaction? Anyone have a story he'd like to share?
I've always assumed that a Transformatrix was a no-strings-attached freebie -- but your story suggests that whoever has been handing them out may have an agenda. Or perhaps Audrey's transformation was part of a scheme by Dr. Klyburn (the only person -- as far as we know -- who's figured out how a Trtansformatrix works). Maybe some other writer will pick up on these possibilities.
Just one nit-pick: In the "T4K Universe," the counterpart of our website is called UberGirlFrenzy (or UGF).
Wasn't really meant to be a part of any collaborative storyline. More was just inspired by the whole idea & I wrote the piece for my own benefit.
I just wanted to write a piece where a guy with a superheroine fetish unknowingly causes his girlfriend to turn into one... and the transformatrix idea was an easy one to rip off and use as a vehicle in this short thing that was never originally intended to be read by anyone else.
Oh, and as for how I told my wife? Well, I didn't - she found out about it in the history window of our computer. That was when you couldn't find decent superheroine stuff without half the pictures being like alien tentacle rape, so she was like WTF?
Eventually I explained everything to her, but it wasn't like she started dressing up like Supergirl for me or anything. Things were already complicated for us though - 2 kids, her mother was ill and we had brought her out to live with us, so she was always around in the next room. Plus we weren't really clicking on a lot of other levels. Haha, by that point a lot was already wrong with our relationship, and right now I'm going through a divorce lol. So... be careful
It's a mutual thing, so it's not like she's divorcing me because I've got a fanboy crush on Supergirl - but I can't imagine it helped. I don't know what the right way to tell your wife/girlfriend about your 'interests' is... but I sure know the wrong way! 8)
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Since "darers go first," I guess I should tell my story, such as it is.
I'd been dating the future Mrs. Argo for a year or so when she asked me outright if I had any fetishes or kinks. We'd been talking about marriage, and I figured I ought to come clean: I didn't want her finding out about it afterwards. Since she knew of my interest in Silver Age comics, classic science-fiction, etc, I don't think it came as much of a surprise to her.
I still can't talk her into wearing a Supergirl costume, though -- not even for Hallowe'en.
"So, it worked?"
"I think so" Alison replied "Only one way to find out though"
She grabbed the gear shift knob and slowly wrapped her fingers around it. The metal squealed as she pulled it off. She then closed her hands around the sphere and applied pressure and it began to crumble. Dust fell from her hand as she opened it up.
"Okay, you have super strength. I hope that means you have the other powers and abilities beyond those of mortal men"
"Only one way to find out" she replied as she opened her window. She began to crawl out as the car tilted further. I unbuckled my seat belt and inched over towards the center of the car, in hopes of keeping the weight distributed evenly. Alison continued to make her way out, the sharp branches tearing at her clothes but she seemed unfazed.
She made her way to the base of the tree, the car's hood only a few inches away. Alison placed her hands on the car and began to lift the front.
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed as the vehicle moved upwards.
Unfortunately, while the front end was moving the weight shifted to the back end of the car, causing the branches holding them to break. This sudden change caused the car to slide and smack Alison, causing her to lose her balance and grip (not to mention toss poor me, who's not belted in, around) and the car started falling to the ground.
Alison quickly regained her composure and, instinctively, dove downward. Her speed helped her catch up, and then pass, the falling vehicle. Turning around, she caught the front grill (again, tossing me into the steering wheel...thankfully the airbag deployed) and carried the car as she flew upward. She set the car down when we made it back to the road. I tried to open the door but it was so smashed in, it probably would've taken the jaws of life to pry it. Alison grabbed the handle in one hand and the door frame in the other and pulled it off with very little effort (although she did give a small grunt, which was cute). I stumbled out and she caught me in her arms.
"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned, as I regained my bearings and leaned against what was left of the car for support.
"Yeah, I think I'll be okay. Just some bumps, bruises, and scratches, much better than the alternative as I surveyed the damage. And then I took a look at Alison.
She was perfect, better than actually. Not a scratch or mark on her. The only thing damaged were her clothes as her top was ripped up, showing a few glimpses of her new super physique.
"I guess I don't need to lose those few pounds after all" she said, smiling.
"I never thought you did" I replied as she gave me a kiss on the cheek. I grabbed my coat out from the backseat and handed it to her.
"I figure the cold probably doesn't bother you, but you'd probably want to cover up" as I motioned towards her ruined blouse.
"Oh, right" she said as she put it on.
After the cops came to get the story on what happened, minus a few key details of course, and to clean up the wreckage. I asked the young female officer about the "flashlight", which was missing from the car, but she said there wasn't one when she checked. As she walked away, I could have sworn it was on her belt.
I laid out on the bed while Alison was brushing her teeth in the bathroom. There were many things that were swimming in my head: how close we were to dying, how our lives were going to change now that Alison has superpowers, how I should have gotten the insurance the rental car company tried to sell me.
"Honey, are you ready for your present?" she asked.
"You know, it's been a crazy night for both of us. Maybe we should just get some sleep..."
She stepped out of the bathroom in a pair of my flannel button down pajamas.
"I guess we could do that" she said as she walked to the end of the bed. "But I think this will change your mind".
Her hands moved up towards the collar and she ripped open her shirt causing the buttons to fly off. And my jaw dropped.
It was like a page ripped right out my stories. Alison stood confidently in her blue and red spandex costume, the material straining against her heaving bosom. The long sleeves covered, but could not hide, her strong arms. Her bare midriff showed off her abs and the matching miniskirt accentuated her shapely buttocks and the red and blue high heeled boots helped draw attention to her powerful legs. A large yellow "A" stood proudly on center of her chest. She fastened a yellow cape and placed her hands on her hips in the traditional power pose, showing off her fit, toned physique.
"I figured you'd get a kick out of this and I had only planned on wearing this on special occasions but I guess this is going to become more of an everyday kind of thing" she said.
"So" Alison asked as she climbed onto the bed, "what would be a good name for me: Awesome Alison? Alison Amazing? Super Alison?"
"Lets worry about that tomorrow" I laughed as she moved closer and kissed me.
"I noticed your...um...reaction to a couple of the scenes in the movie, how about we try that out and see what happens" she said with a big grin on her face.
We held each other tightly.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
Brad, you seem to have read my mind -- or am I just that predictable? The rescue took place pretty much as I had planned; the "other present" Alison had mentioned was going to be a cosplay Supergirl outfit; and my story would have ended with an homage to the bedroom scene at the end of My Super Ex-Girlfriend -- except that I planned to send the bed crashing through the bedroom wall and out onto the cabin's porch.
Nice to see some activity on this thread. The "Transformatrix Universe" has lots of untold stories, and I wish more writers would step forward and fill in a corner of it. There are a few tales I'd like to tell someday, if I ever get my mojo back.
Anyway -- thanks, Brad! Are there any new Mindy Marvel stories on the way?