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Power network: Potential

07 May 2008 09:27 #12279 by Woodclaw
Power network: Potential was created by Woodclaw
Hi guys. This is my latest work, to be honest, it's the second chapter of an ongoing scenario, but I was unable to finish the first one (that is more like a prologue to the entire story). So I decided to post this as first chapter and to save the prologue as a flashback for a future use.

Since the document is quite long I'm going to post it two pages at the time. Between one post and the next critics are welcome.

Many thanks to Argonaut, who revised the original document.

Ok, here we go.


Potential

written by Anon

revised by Argonaut


Lynette Arleen -- "Lyn" to all her friends -- was tired. It was 23:00 on a Friday night in September, and she had just finished rewriting a thirty-page essay on 18th-century Spanish literature for Professor O’Leary. Although she was by far the smartest girl in her class, she also was something of a perfectionist, so that even on a Friday night, while her classmates were out partying, she was usually working late in the library. She crossed the street and headed for the multi-level underground garage, the bequest of a rich alumnus. It was a great solution to the students’ parking problems, but being poorly guarded and almost deserted after 20:00 it was also the hunting ground of the worst members of the college's fraternities. Lyn’s sneakers squeaked with each step, and she didn’t pay attention to her surroundings -- the worst mistake, and the luckiest decision, of her entire life. A figure suddenly moved out from the shadows before her -- big, about six feet tall, definitely male, with a half-full bottle in his left hand. From the way he walked, there could be no doubt where the other half was. Lyn almost stepped into him.

“Well, well… look who's ‘ere.” The smell of his breath was strong enough to kill. “Li'l ol’ Lyn. The shmartesht girl in the shcool.”

Lyn gulped heavily and looked the other way. “H-hi, Mark.”

Mark was one of the senior members of the K-P-T fraternity, the kind of guy who made it into college thanks to his knack for breaking bones on the football field. He had the IQ of a potato and a body charged with testosterone -- a dangerous combination...

“Y' know, Lynnie, I tink ‘bout you, recenly… recenty… rec… bah, shit!” Mark babbled on. “I tink that I washn't fair t' you. So I deshided to make thingsh right.”

Lyn needed no more warning and she started to run. With her skinny, 5’4”, unauthentic body she had no chance at all of resisting Mark for more than a few seconds. The fire door was only 15 yards away … 10 yards … 5 yards … when somebody tackled her from the right. Lyn stumbled to the pavement, colliding against a concrete pillar. Through her broken glasses she looked at her second assailant. She wasn't surprised to see that it was Jack, Mark’s right arm, and that he looked equally drunk. Lyn had known Jack since grade school. Back then he was a skinny hyperactive boy, quite easygoing, but during his last year in high school he had a strange growth spurt and he started bullying everybody, especially anyone who was smaller than he was. He had been the star of the university’s wrestling team before Coach McCray caught him with a bottle of steroids. Though he and Mark were buddies, Jack wasn’t a member of K-P-T.

“Not very kind of you, to leave the party, now, Lynnie,” Jack sneered.

“Yeah, aft'r all,’t’s your party,” Mark continued with an evil laugh. “But you alwaysh shaid that we're depraved, so we deshided to do something very depraved, just for you ... y’ li’l bitch.”

Lyn tried to get to her feet before the two rushed her. To her credit she fought to the very last breath, trying to scratch, bite and kick her assailants while they tried to pin her down. The bottle Mark was brandishing smashed against the pillar, but Mark continued to swing it, until it pierced Lyn’s midriff, a few inches below her little A-cup breasts. The shock of seeing the bloodstain was enough to wash the drunkenness away from the two frat kids.

“Shit, what have you done!?” screamed Jack.

Mark stood dumbfounded before the dying young woman, unable to move. Jack grabbed him by the right arm. “We have to get out of here, now, Mark! Mark, you stupid son of a…” Jack continued to shout at his friend as they fled through the deserted garage.

Lyn was dying; she knew it. She felt cold in her arms and legs, she saw the blood spilling from her wounds, her senses were fading ... then she heard the click of high heels moving in her direction. She tried to move, to speak, but the pain was too overwhelming. A leg -- long, shapely, exquisitely female, wearing a black leather shoe with a four-inch stiletto heel -- entered her field of vision, only a few inches from her face.

“What a pity.” It was a deep, rich, sensual voice. “Such potential, such a bright mind, wasted.” A hand reached down, and Lyn felt five long, silky, perfectly sculpted fingers grabbing the back of her head. “For the pleasure of a pair of stupid chauvinist pigs, creatures incapable of rational thought.” Lyn's field of vision was a complete blur, except for the face of the woman holding her. The face was an almost perfect oval, framed with a cascade of long straight black hair, so dark and so smooth that it looked more like silk treads spun from the heart of a moonless night. Her cheekbones were high but not too evident, the lips full without being inflated, the nose perfectly proportioned to the rest of the features, the eyes two dark blue pools, burning with anger. The image was something out of the part of our mind where we conceive the idea of a goddess. She almost radiated an aura of light or power or heat, maybe all of them at once, like a fire, or like the sun itself.

The woman smiled wickedly and tenderly at once, then without warning she kissed Lyn on her mouth. Lyn was shocked when she felt the woman’s tongue forcing her teeth apart and exploring her mouth. It was the deepest, most erotic kiss she had ever experienced. “Not a bad way to die. Being kissed by such a beautiful…” she thought while the last shred of consciousness left her mind.

The next sound she heard was her own gasp. It was like the sound we make when we get out of a long underwater dive, but for Lyn it sounded like a tornado. She took a few breaths before asking herself “Am I… alive?” She brought her hand to her heart to see if there was any pulse, and she was amazed at what she found. “What the hell is going on?” she screamed, causing the windows of the few parked cars to break as her voice struck them. Her T-shirt was stretched preposterously over two twin DD spheres, fantastically proportioned, extremely pert, that filled her cotton bra nearly to the breaking point. Lyn stood up, tensing her back muscles in an instinctive effort to support her new endowments. She heard a snap and a ripping sound. Puzzled, she looked down. Her new breasts had snapped her bra and ripped the upper part of her t-shirt, exposing several inches of cleavage. Now her breasts stood even higher, protruding like two cannonballs, topped with two big nipples that teased the remains of the fabric. She relaxed her muscles, but her breasts still thrust forward. “What is all this?” Lyn whispered under her breath. Her breasts weren't the only things that had changed. Her entire body was transformed -- her toothpick legs had blossomed, becoming long and shapely, her hips were wide, her ass perfectly proportioned, her waistline slim, her belly silky and flat. Even her hair had changed; it flowed down to the bottom of her back, and its colour had changed from a nondescript ash blond to a rich dark gold. The simple act of registering all these changes gave Lyn a feeling of vertigo. Her head spinning, she dropped on the floor and laughed long and hard.

Catching her breath, she stood up and took some careful steps. Approaching her car, she realized that she was taller by at least five inches -- probably more -- but that didn’t cause her any discomfort or loss of equilibrium. Indeed, she moved with more grace and balance than ever before. Her movements were smooth and efficient, graceful as those of a prima ballerina. She grabbed the handle of the driver’s door and pulled. Instantly, the handle, the lock and a huge part of the door fell away from the side of the car. Lyn let the mass of metal fall while her mouth dropped open. Her first thought was that the car's frame was defective, but then she reached down for the handle and she saw a series of dents right were her fingers had grabbed it; she even saw the print of her thumb on the exterior surface. She took two steps back and began to hyperventilate. She looked at her hands, her new hands, hands with long, perfectly modelled fingers, tipped with lustrous oval nails and -- apparently --capable of ripping the side of a car open with a casual tug. She started to feel afraid, but she was also intrigued. As an experiment she leaned over and grabbed the chunk of metal with her left hand and raised her arm, lifting the door with ridiculous ease. It appeared to weigh less than a Frisbee, but somehow she knew that it was far heavier than that. Lyn removed her fingers one by one until she was supporting the whole weight with only her thumb and forefinger, still with no feeling of strain. She decided to try to balance it on her extended forefinger, and found that she could do so with ease. Elated, she tried something else. She grabbed the opposite sides of the metal slab and tried bending it. The metal screamed but offered no real resistance. After rolling the door into a tube, Lyn placed her hands on the two extremities and started to push them together. Again the resistance was negligible and after a moment all that was left of the car’s door was a metal wad the size of a volleyball. At that point Lyn was too excited to be afraid. She licked her lips in anticipation, craving more. The feeling of using this power was intoxicating. She looked around and she saw her own car, torn open by the strength of her bare hands.

“Since it looks like I have the strength of a super girl,” she thought, “let's try something only a real super girl can do.”

...

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08 May 2008 05:55 #12281 by ace191
Replied by ace191 on topic Re: Power network: Potential
Looks Great! When will we see part two?

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08 May 2008 07:32 #12282 by Woodclaw
Replied by Woodclaw on topic Re: Power network: Potential
...

“Since it looks like I have the strength of a super girl,” she thought, “let's try something only a real super girl can do.” She knelt by the rear bumper and placed her hands under the back of the car.

“Okay, here goes nothing!” She closed her eye and started lifting her car -- slowly at first, but noticing how light it felt she raised her arm faster and in mere seconds she stood supporting the whole weight of her car with nothing but her own body. She looked up. Her vision was filled by the bottom of her car, the metal oozing between her fingers like play-do, and although it didn’t feel heavy at all, she was somehow aware of the actual weight of the car, the real toughness of the metal.

“Wow!” was the only word Lyn was able to come up with. Although she still couldn’t believe it, she was fully enjoying the experience. As a final experiment, she shifted her left hand and removed her right, so that she was supporting the full weight of her car on the fingertips of her left hand. A wide smile spread across her face while she flexed her right arm and a small ball of muscle popped up, just big enough to indicate a toned body. It would have been impossible to guess her actual strength from the mere size of her biceps. Lyn was so thrilled that she tightened the grip of her left hand, increasing the pressure of her fingers, and in a few seconds the metal began glowing red, then yellow, then white, and started dripping between her fingers. The molten metal ran down her arm and set fire to the sleeve of her t-shirt. Lyn tried frantically to stop the flames. She dropped the car, which struck the ground with a loud crash. After slapping out the fire, Lyn looked at her upper arm. The skin was charred black -- though she felt no pain -- but within moments the raw edges of the wound started to tremble and the burned patch shrank until it had completely disappeared. Soon her skin was completely unblemished. She touched the spot to convince herself of what she saw, and her fingers only registered the smooth softness of her silky skin.

“Am I… indestructible?” Lyn breathed incredulously. She decided that however impossible it seemed, she had somehow or other gained super-powers ... and if she had to get used to the idea, the rest of the world would have to deal with it as well, especially a certain somebody. Looking around, Lyn gazed at her car. She didn't have to be a mechanic to see that it was beyond repair; the windows were shattered, her fingers had dug a hole in the chassis, the driver’s door was a crumpled ball of steel, and the rest of the structure had collapsed when she dropped it.

Damn! Her apartment was almost 15 kilometres from the university, and the last bus had already left … Then she slapped her forehead. “Lyn, my dear, you are really stupid. You have to start thinking like a super girl, and what kind of super girl would have a problem with this?”

With a new-found confidence, Lyn lifted the mangled frame of her car and set it down in its parking space. Then she inspected her attire. She was a mess. Her clothes were ripped to shreds, thanks to her sudden growth. She rummaged in the back seat of her car and found the blue hooded sweatshirt with the “S” shield, a present from her roommate Kristine. It had been two sizes too large for her, but now it would be a snug fit. She removed the remains of her t-shirt and bra and put the sweatshirt on. As easily as if she were ripping a sheet of paper, she tore off the lower part of her jeans to fashion an improvised pair of shorts. Her sneakers were still intact. Even in this makeshift outfit, she looked like a total knockout. Her legs, long and sleek, looked as if they had been shaped by a master sculptor, her denim shorts seemed to have been painted on her round tight butt, her flat stomach -- evident below the hem of her sweatshirt -- made her figure an amazing hourglass, her breasts defied the law of gravity, sitting high and proud on her torso, a hint of her nipples visible even through the thick tissue of the sweatshirt. She pulled the hood up (an old habit form her high school years) and walked over to the ramp.

“Okay, it looks as if my entire body is super strong, so in theory I should be able to run at a very high speed. Well, let's try.”

Licking her lips in nervous anticipation, Lyn positioned herself like an Olympic runner at the starting block. She took three deep breaths, and then launched herself forward. As soon as her feet left the ground her body accelerated from 0 to 200 kilometres per hour, propelling her forward at blinding speed. Lyn squeezed her eyes shut, expecting to hit the wall, but instinctively she rounded the curve of the ramp with a grace that matched her speed. It was as if her senses were capable of keeping pace with her increased speed and she adjusted her course without any conscious effort. As final proof, she kept accelerating, faster and faster, until she was moving at 500 kilometres per hour and headed for the barrier at the end of the ramp. Like an Olympic hurdler, she leapt over it without any difficulty, landing as gracefully as a gymnast. But as soon as she was out of the garage and felt the cool night air rushing against her face, her head suddenly began aching. A thousand white-hot nails seemed to pierce her eyes, a million needles stung her ears, and countless embers burned in her nostrils. She spun out of control, hitting the asphalt with a loud thud and rolling all the way to a lamppost that snapped in half as soon as her indestructible body smashed into it.

She pressed her hands against her temples, exerting several tons of pressure, trying to find a way to slow down the flow of information that was surging into her brain -- shapes, colours, odours, noises ... she could pick up any conversation within a three-kilometres radius, smell any odour within a mile, see even the tiniest details of every object between her and the horizon. Her brain was on fire with the sheer amount of data rushing into it. On the verge of an overload she shouted “MAKE THIS STOP!” -- causing a sonic boom that cracked the tarmac for several yards in all directions. And it stopped, but not in the way Lyn expected. The level of detail that she was experiencing remained fantastically high, but her brain seemed to adapt, opening itself to all these brand new sensations. It was like seeing an actual object rather than a blurry photo. Each colour was more vivid, each sound more clear, each odour perfectly defined and distinct from the others. Lyn was experiencing reality at its fullest and most intense. She got to her feet, savouring this banquet of sensations, and resumed her interrupted run. Her speed was so great that within moments her clothes were smoking from air friction, and the tarmac behind her melted in her wake. But now she was perfectly conscious of every movement she took, her brain was able to process the flow of data, and even at her blinding speed she was capable of observing and recalling every detail of the world around her. She slowed down to a more ‘normal’ speed to avoid putting too much strain on her outfit. After a few kilometres she came to an abrupt stop. She was standing exactly were she wanted to be, in a deserted block of office buildings. Her eyes and ears focussed on a long bridge about half a kilometre to her left. There was a SUV parked near the end of the bridge -- and there were Mark and Jack, pacing nervously back and forth by the SUV, their hands trembling like jelly. Lyn could smell the rank odour of their sweat even at this distance. It was frightening and exciting at the same time. It's one thing to look a person in the eyes and see a hint of fear -- but receiving a perfectly clear polychrome image of his terror, seeing every bead of perspiration on his forehead, catching every quaver in his voice, enjoying a picture of his inner turmoil, was ... utterly exhilarating. Lyn licked her lips, savouring the sensation, fully realizing how exponentially superior to the rest of humankind -- especially these two pathetic specimens -- she was now.

The two frat kids were getting back inside the car. Mark, on the passenger side, was the more nervous of the two. “Are… are you sure she's dead?” he asked, gulping heavily.

“Geez, pal, you stabbed her right in her heart. If she didn't die right then, she's sure dead by now.” Jack pointed to the blood-stained chunk of glass that Mark was still holding in his hand.

Mark looked at the stains and dropped the broken bottle as if it was red-hot. “What'll we do now, somebody's gonna find out.”

“I think we need to get ourselves an alibi, you know, like in the detective movies.”

“Yeah, right…” Mark was calmer now. Regaining a little of his macho attitude. “I have an idea. Mike Kronsky.”

“Who? The geek?”

“Yeah, he owes me one, so I can convince him to help us.”

“And if he refuses?”

Mark cracked his knuckles. “I don’t think he will. Let’s go.” Nodding, Jack started the engine and made a U turn.

“What the h…” Jack slammed on the brakes. The tires squealed against the tarmac, emitting a puff of smoke and dust. Someone had appeared right in front of his car -- a woman, hitchhiking. Her physique was so incredible that she couldn’t be mistaken for a man even with the hood of her sweatshirt raised. She had to be the hottest chick they had ever seen. Jack shut off the motor, and both guys jumped out and walked up to her. Lyn smiled to herself when the two came out of the car. She carried her six-foot frame proudly, causing her breasts to bounce a little and making obvious that she wore no bra. She had never been a violent or vengeful person, but now she wanted nothing better than to make these two pay dearly for what they had done to her. She wanted to savour her revenge, to give these two scumbags a prolonged -- and painful -- demonstration of her new-found superiority. She'd never felt this way before and part of her wasn’t sure she liked it, but she was resolved to try. Seeing that the guys looked a little hesitant, Lyn decided to give them a little encouragement. Pulling back her hood, she shook her hair free and flashed a dazzling smile. The effect was instantaneous. Jack's eyes widened, Mark's mouth dropped open, and their hearts -- after skipping a beat -- began beating faster, with increasing urgency.

Mark realized that he was drooling uncontrollably. Trying to regain a measure of dignity, he covered his mouth with his hand and pretended to cough. Then he put on what he thought was his most charming smile. Jack, too, attempted to regain some self-control as he approached. Lyn laughed silently as she saw how, with hardly any effort, she had caused these two notorious macho jerks to lose their composure so completely. They were standing before her now, almost motionless except for a slight tipsy swaying, as Lyn unconsciously emitted a continuous stream of super-powerful pheromones which held them in thrall, drunk on her incredible sex appeal, overwhelmed by the sheer power of her beauty. While Lyn found the spectacle very interesting, even amusing, she was growing impatient. She decided it was time to take the first step.

...

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08 May 2008 17:56 #12283 by lfan
Replied by lfan on topic Re: Power network: Potential
Excellent work so far Anon! Cannot wait to see how it continues...

ElF

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08 May 2008 18:16 #12284 by Woodclaw
Replied by Woodclaw on topic Re: Power network: Potential
...

She decided it was time to take the first step.

“Hi, guys. Thanks for stopping.”

Mark smiled. “Our pleasure. What happened?”

“I'm afraid I got a little lost.”

“New around here?”

“Yes -- something like that. Do you think you could give me a lift into town?”

“Like I said, it’s our pleasure. Isn’t it, pal?”

Jack had been silent. He was sure that he had never seen this girl before, but somehow she looked awfully familiar. “Yeah, right ... what you said.”

The three jumped on the car, the guys on the front and Lyn in the back. Mark resumed the conversation. “So what’s a fine looking lady like you doing in a neighbourhood like this?”

“Well, I’m looking for a couple of guys, college guys, around your age. Maybe you know them?”

“We know all the guys at the college,” Mark bragged. “What are their names?”

“One is Marcus Finley, the other is Jacob Stanton.”

“Ha! This is your lucky night, lady. You're looking at them.”

Feigning surprise, Lyn replied “Really? I guess this is my lucky night. But how do I know you're not kidding me?”

“Here, take a look.” Mark handed her his driver's license.

Jack, still suspicious, said “I don’t recognize you at all. Why are you looking for us?”

“Let's just say that I’m here on behalf of one of your classmates.”

“Who?” Jack was feeling more uneasy by the second. There was something wrong about this girl. He'd felt the same apprehension the first time he'd tried steroids, and look how that had turned out.

“Lynette Arleen.”

Jack slammed on the brakes, causing the three of them to bounce violently. The guys' hearts were pounding with terror. Mark was the first to react. He reached under the seat, where his father kept a .38 revolver, and pointed it at Lyn’s breast, shouting “What do you want?”

Lyn watched the whole scene unfold in super slow motion. The sight of the gun in Mark's hand frightened her for a moment, and she thought about grabbing it from him, but the next moment she calmed down. After all, she had already cheated death this evening. So she smiled and decided to do nothing just yet. “Oh dear,” she said mockingly. “Have I said something wrong?”

“Drop the act, bitch, and answer me!”

Lyn ground her teeth. She was tempted to slap Mark, but she managed to restrain herself. She turned to his companion. “I suggest you tell your friend to apologize, right now.”

“Or what?" sneered Mark. "Are you going to crush me with those tits of yours?”

Lyn grinned mischievously. “Maybe. That’s not a bad idea, especially coming from a moron like you.” Meanwhile, Jack was struggling to get out of his seatbelt, but his trembling fingers couldn't find the release button. Lyn realized that she had no problem following the actions of the two guys simultaneously. "Multitasking -- that's weird," she thought. "It looks as if my mental abilities have been enhanced, too."

Mark was turning red with rage. Not only was the girl avoiding his questions, but she was mocking him. His heart was beating faster by the second, and the stench of his adrenaline-laden sweat was so obvious that Lyn wasn’t surprised when his finger depressed the trigger. But she was surprised when the bullet tore a hole in her sweatshirt and pierced her right breast and tore through her lung. Gasping for air, Lyn collapsed on the back seat.

“You bitch! Look what you made me do!” screamed Mark incoherently.

A few seconds of silence passed ... and then a voice, soft and sibilant like the hiss of a cobra, spoke. “What… I made ... you do? How dare you?” Lyn’s hand darted forward and grabbed Mark’s wrist like a vice. Mark panicked and fired two more bullets. The first one tore another hole in Lyn's shirt but flattened against her breast, while the other rebounded from her right cheekbone and drilled a neat little hole in the window. Mark’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. The blood flowing from Lyn's chest had slowed to a trickle. Lyn released Mark's wrist, then grabbed his hand and squeezed. Mark screamed as Lyn crushed his hand and the pistol he was holding, into a wad of crumpled metal and splintered bone and bloody flesh...

Lyn was now really angry. Ignoring Mark’s screams, she released the mangled remains of his hand and jumped out of the car. Standing in front of the driver’s door, she sank her long fingers, delicate-looking yet supremely powerful, into the metal around the handle. She secured her grip and started to pull. Mark's screams and the screams of the tortured metal blended in a terrible cacophony that fuelled Lyn’s rage even further. She could feel raw power surge through her biceps as she continued to pull, and a heartbeat later the door yielded to Lyn’s strength. Tearing it off its hinges, she held it above her head for a moment in triumph, then threw it away as casually as if it were an empty soda can. Reaching inside, she pulled Mark out of the car and pinned him against the frame, with the fingers of her right hand clutching his neck.

“That's how it always is with you, Mark, isn't it?” she roared. “You only understand only one thing -- strength, pure strength. And you're too caught up with your own ego to ever consider the damage you cause to anyone else. But what if that someone is stronger than you?”

His mind reeling with pain and terror, Mark tried to speak, to beg for mercy, but his voice was so weak that for anyone without Lyn’s super hearing they would have been an inaudible wheeze.

“What am I talking about?” Lyn laughed maliciously. “Oh, I know you very well, Mark. I know every little trick, every dirty thing you have done in the last two years, right up until tonight, when you tried to killed me… twice.”

Mark's eyes widened. Horror made him forgetful of his agony. He lost control of his bladder and his arms went limp as he recognized a trace of the girl who had once been Lynette Arleen. He opened his mouth to speak but his tongue was paralyzed.

Lyn regarded her captive through narrowed eyes. Memories of the past two years came flooding back into her mind -- particularly the night of Mark’s initiation to K-P-T, when the rules of the fraternity called upon him to demonstrate his "manly right to rule.” He and a pair of his pals had kidnapped Mary, Lyn’s girlfriend, and subjected her to a series of abuses and humiliations. Lyn didn’t know all the details; she only knew that a few weeks later Mary tried to kill herself by jumping from the roof of the K-P-T frat house before Lyn’s horrified eyes. A year later, she was still in coma. Lyn had tried to suppress those memories, but now they came back, more vivid than ever, down to the smallest detail...

Lyn removed her fingers from Mark's throat and wrapped her arms around him. “You know, Mark," she murmured. "I’ve been wondering if every part of my body is super strong, and now you can help me find out.” She tightened her embrace; her breasts made contact with his torso and started compressing his ribcage. His ribs groaned in protest for a long moment before breaking and embedding themselves in his lungs. His sternum cracked and his heart burst under the relentless pressure of Lyn feminine mounds. Mark's dying scream pierced the night air.

Feeling no heartbeat from Mark’s body, Lyn let it fall to the ground... She realized that she was crying -- crying for the first time after Mary’s leap. She cried out all her sorrow and all her rage, whispering between her sobs “That was for you, Mary… for you.” She collapsed to the ground, laughing and sobbing in the same breath.

...

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09 May 2008 07:50 #12289 by Woodclaw
Replied by Woodclaw on topic Re: Power network: Potential
...

She collapsed to the ground, laughing and sobbing in the same breath.

Jack had jumped out of the car when Mark had fired the first shot from his revolver. He was running as fast as he could. Things had gotten completely out of control, Mark was acting crazy ... Jack just wanted to get away as fast as he could. He was about two hundred meters from the car when he heard Mark’s first scream. Terror propelled Jack's legs as he tried desperately to outrun the echoes of his friend's cries of pain. Then Mark’s dying shriek reached his ears. Blind with fear, lungs burning, legs aching, he scrambled up and over the wire-mesh fence of a nearby construction site, hoping to find an escape route, or at least a hiding place, from whoever or whatever had killed Mark.

It took nearly five minutes for Lyn to recover. Her mind had teetered on the edge of hysteria, but she was able to maintain her grip to reality. Breathing heavily, she surveyed the whole scene, picking up every detail with her super-acute senses: the sound of the wind, the metallic tang of blood, the damp touch of the blood-soaked sweatshirt against her body, the sight of Mark’s mangled corpse ... But another part of her mind was thinking about something else. For the first time that evening she was trying to make sense of what had happened to her. In a spilt second she considered a dozen possible scenarios. From this complex welter of possibilities she selected one hypothesis after another, surveying and discarding each in turn. Her eyes were moving rapidly behind closed eyelids, silently scanning the torrent of information cascading along her neurons. Seconds later, she opened her eyes. A cold gleam of understanding shone in them. She didn’t have the full answer yet, but all the evidence pointed unmistakably to the mysterious woman she had seen while she lay dying on the cold cement floor of the garage. She had to find this woman, but for now she had a more pressing matter to attend to...

Jack.

She knew where he was. With her enhanced mental abilities she had kept a part of her mind focused on him -- but even if she hadn't, it would have been easy to follow him. The acrid smell of his fear left a trail as clear as a strip of phosphorescent yellow paint along the deserted city street. Walking slowly, confidently, Lyn soon reached the construction site where Jack had run to ground. She surveyed the fence for a moment, considering whether she should rip it open or jump over it, when her ears picked up a low murmur coming from the first floor of the half-finished building. She closed her eyes and focussed on the sound. She heard rapid breathing, and words being spoken in frightened whisper. Concentrating, Lyn could recognize Jack’s voice. He was praying, repeating the words of a child's prayer: “If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord …” Jack’s nerves were obviously stretched as taut as piano wires. He was completely overwhelmed by the events -- witnessed and imagined -- of the last quarter of hour. Never in his life he had he been so profoundly shaken. Having expended all her rage against Mark, Lyn now found herself feeling strangely sorry for Jack. So she decided on a less drastic course of action. Slightly flexing her knees, Lyn jumped easily over the twelve-foot-tall fence and landed silently just behind a pile of I beams. Lyn entered the shadowy structure, guiding herself by the sound of his breathing. Within moments, she located his hiding place...

Eyes squeezed shut, Jack was still murmuring the only prayer he knew. "I pray the Lord my soul to keep ...” Suddenly he felt a gust of wind against his face. Startled, he opened his eyes and saw a dark blur in front of him, which instantly took the form of the mysterious -- yet tantalizingly familiar -- girl in the hooded sweatshirt. Screaming like a madman, Jack grabbed a metal crowbar he had picked up in the courtyard and swung it at the girl in a blind berserker rage. Lyn watched calmly; once again her heightened senses had kicked in and she saw Jack moving at a hundredth of his real speed. She turned slightly, presenting her left shoulder to the blow. The blunt weapon landed against her upper arm with a loud thud, but caused her no pain. Confident of her invincibility, Lyn raised her left arm to block another incoming blow; then she disarmed Jack with one hand, while with the other she clutched him by his neck and lifted him from the ground. Pinning him against a column, Lyn secured his hands behind it by twisting the crowbar into a pair of makeshift handcuffs. The metal felt soft and pliable in her hands, no more rigid than a stick of licorice as she wrapped the crowbar twice around his wrists. Then she stepped into Jack's field of vision.

Jack was babbling incoherently, trying to extract some sense from this nightmare. He stared at the girl for a long moment, then gasped "Who ... what ... who are you?"

“Let's just say that I'm your last chance ... Jacob.”

"Jacob", only a few people had ever called him that. The strange sense of familiarity that Jack felt when he first saw this girl came back in force. “My… last chance…?” he stammered.

“Precisely. You're being given one last chance to change your ways. I know a lot about you, and I know that once you weren’t always such a sadistic bully.”

“So…?” Jack was striving to find a thread of memory that might tell him who this girl was.

“So -- I hope that you can be a better person again, that you can find satisfaction in your own achievements and not in hurting others.”

Jack put on a feeble show of defiance. “Oh, yeah? Do you have some bad karma to work off, or something?”

Lyn smiled sardonically and answered in a silky tone. “You'd better hope so.” She grasped a handful of rebar poking out from an unfinished wall. "Because, you see, God is merciful ...” She ripped the rebar from the concrete and started to roll it into a ball the size of her fist. “But I am not -- not after what you and your buddy did to me tonight.”

Jack swallowed hard, remembering Mark's horrible screams. "M-Mark …?”

“He’s dead,” Lyn replied coldly. “I didn’t want to kill him, at first, but you see -- he killed me twice tonight. So if you ever bully anyone, or mistreat anyone in any way -- especially women -- I will be back, and I will personally teach you the proper meaning of pain.” To emphasize her words, Lyn closed her fingers around the steel ball. Casually, effortlessly, she squeezed harder and harder until the metal turned red-hot, then an incandescent white -- and then she opened her fingers and let the molten slag drip hissing to the floor.

“So -- do we have a deal?”

“Yes!" Jack yelped. "Yes! I'll do whatever you want, I promise!”

“Good.”

“Uh -- so could you untie me ... please?” asked Jack, all his defiance gone.

Lyn considered the idea of leaving him this way. She liked it “No, I won’t. Consider it your punishment for tonight. You can pass the time figuring out how you're going to explain this to the workers and the police tomorrow.” She laughed. “And don’t say a word about me to anyone, understand? Because that would be a very bad mistake -- and the last one you'll ever make."

Jack nodded numbly, and watched the girl turn and stride away, disappearing into the shadows. Minutes later, he realized who she reminded him of, somehow. "Lyn? Lyn Arleen?"

Lyn left the building stealthily, not wanting to be seen by anyone. Walking away from the construction site, she considered discarding her blood-soaked sweatshirt, but she decided against it -- she didn’t want to run through the neighbourhood half naked. Carefully avoiding the main streets, Lyn arrived at her apartment in less than a minute. As she stopped into her bedroom, she smiled proudly. She had covered several kilometres in mere seconds without even approaching her top speed.

Luckily for her, her roommate wasn’t home. Kristine was in her hometown for the birth of her first nephew. Even though Kristine was a confessed fan of Super-girl comics, it would have been difficult to explain how her skinny roommate had just become a super powerful girl with a body that would make any actress or fitness model green with envy. Right now Lyn just wanted to go to bed -- not that she felt tired, but she needed a little quiet time to think about how her life was about to change and she couldn’t think of a better place than her bedroom. She removed her clothes and put the blood-stained sweatshirt in a shopping bag. "I'll get rid of this later," she thought, but then she had another idea. She ran back to the campus and dropped the bag inside the trash can outside the K-P-T fraternity house, returning to her bedroom less than a minute.

Lying on her bed, Lyn reviewed again and again everything that had happened that evening. Some things were clearer to her now, but many things were still very strange. Strangest of all was the fact that she was coping so easily with her new powers. It was as if she had had them all along, or rather as if the potential had been dormant in her ... potential. That was the word the woman had used. Lyn felt that she was connected with that woman in some way. It wasn’t that she felt love or even friendship for her -- she didn’t know her at all -- but it was as if they were part of the same body, as if there was a single will guiding them both. As she tried to make sense of this, Lyn fell into a dreamless sleep.

She slept until dawn. When she woke up, she noticed again how different she felt. She laid thinking about the night before. Experimentally she cupped her left breast. Caressing the soft flesh under her fingers, she licked her lips with anticipation and squeezed. She gasped at the extremely pleasurable sensation that flowed through her, a sensation much more intense than anything she had experienced before. Craving more, she squeezed both tits with all her strength. The results were incredible. Her nipples became erect, straining the fabric of her shirt. Her flesh, paradoxically, seemed super-sensitive to the lightest caress, while remaining more resilient than the strongest steel. The awareness of her sensitivity and her strength made Lyn horny. Her right hand explored her stomach, each touch setting off wave after wave of pleasant sensations. It seemed that her hand knew exactly where to go and just how to stimulate her nerves to the fullest. Her hand moved down until it reached her pussy -- she noticed for the first time that all her body hair was gone -- and started to play with her clit, fingering herself with more and more urgency. With each successive stroke she increased her speed, until her hand was nothing more than a blur and her panties smouldered from friction. The pleasure grew and grew until the final release hit her like a tsunami. She screamed at the top of her lungs, shattering the bedroom window and lay back on her bed moaning. “That was incredible. I never imagined that it was possible to feel a pleasure like that.” She took a deep breath and all the pleasurable tiredness of the afterglow washed away. It was as if her whole body was fresh and renewed, ready for more...

Lyn stood up and surveyed the mess she had caused. “Well,” she sighed. “I suppose I'd better clean this up.” In a blur of super-swift motion she collected all the glass shards, dropping them in an old carton; then she found a piece of cardboard to cover up the broken window. She had just picked up the carton to take it out to the dumpster when she noticed something on her nightstand -- a small white envelope. She was positive that it hadn't been there the night before. She opened it and read:

Dear Ms. Arleen:

I hope you enjoyed your new gifts. I will expect you this evening at 18:00, in the penthouse at Clements Plaza, for a little super-girl talk. Show this note to the porter, and he will let you in.

N. A.


[continue]

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09 May 2008 07:59 #12290 by Woodclaw
Replied by Woodclaw on topic Re: Power network: Potential
With this ends the first chapter of my story. I promise that as soon as I finish another one I'll post it. Until then, critics, suggestions etc. are very welcome both via forum or private mail.

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09 May 2008 10:09 #12293 by Brantwood
Replied by Brantwood on topic Re: Power network: Potential
Hey Anon,
great Storie so far.
Can't wait to read more soon!!
:D :D :D :!:

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09 May 2008 14:36 #12294 by kobarsos
Replied by kobarsos on topic Re: Power network: Potential
Very good work!
I have one question! Why the bullet tore through her lung?
I know the answer will be in the next chapters!
Please post them when they are ready!

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09 May 2008 19:38 #12296 by Woodclaw
Replied by Woodclaw on topic Re: Power network: Potential

Very good work!
I have one question! Why the bullet tore through her lung?
I know the answer will be in the next chapters!
Please post them when they are ready!


This will be explain in the next chapter, but the reason is the same for which Lyn get burned by the incandescent metal.

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16 May 2008 02:26 #12320 by jumperprime
Replied by jumperprime on topic Re: Power network: Potential
Awesome story! Hits ever high note I think of when I think of erotic superbabe stories. Super strength, huge super-tits ripping through clothes, invulnerability, crushing a man against her mighty tits. The only thing that could make it better is a scene with Lyn bending a steel bar across her tits.

As to the nature of Lyn's invulnerability, I think I know what's going on: Her body needs to learn how to defend against various types of damage. So the first time she's attacked by a type of attack, it does damage, then her body learns how to defend against it and repairs the damage. That's why she burned herself on liquid metal the first time, but when she showed off the ball of molten steel for the creep, it didn't hurt her at all. Ditto with the gun. First bullet penetrated Lyn's body as if she wasn't super at all, then she regenerated immediately and the rest of the bullets just bounced off her steel-hard skin.

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16 May 2008 08:11 #12322 by Woodclaw
Replied by Woodclaw on topic Re: Power network: Potential

As to the nature of Lyn's invulnerability, I think I know what's going on: Her body needs to learn how to defend against various types of damage. So the first time she's attacked by a type of attack, it does damage, then her body learns how to defend against it and repairs the damage. That's why she burned herself on liquid metal the first time, but when she showed off the ball of molten steel for the creep, it didn't hurt her at all. Ditto with the gun. First bullet penetrated Lyn's body as if she wasn't super at all, then she regenerated immediately and the rest of the bullets just bounced off her steel-hard skin.


Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner.

This is exactly how I devised Lyn's invulnerability.Right now she is invulnerable to the following sources of damage

- High temperatures
- Bullets
- Blunt traumas
- Stabbing / cutting traumas

The last two were developed due the wounds suffered during the brawl at the parking lot.

(By the way thanks for the compliments :D :oops: :D )

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16 May 2008 14:47 #12323 by Sarge395
Replied by Sarge395 on topic Re: Power network: Potential
Good work. I like how this is evolving. Much different from your run of the mill evil Supergirl wacking her enemies and anyone else in the way. Which is 99% of what I normally enjoy reading. Was afraid that after a few weeks away not many updates would be around but I was wrong. Looks like I need to spend some free time now and catch up.

Just one wish for this story and that is that she learns she can fly!

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20 Jun 2009 08:17 #15953 by Woodclaw
Replied by Woodclaw on topic Re: Power network: Potential
:oops: :oops: I'm sorry I've been unable to post my second chapter, but I'm suffering my usual writer block. I've all the key scenes perfectly pictured in my mind, but I can't put them together in a good way. :oops: :oops:

Anyway I was able to create this picture of Lyn during the night of her transformation, enjoy.

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20 Jun 2009 11:10 #15956 by marknew742
Replied by marknew742 on topic Re: Power network: Potential
Just to add my compliments to Anon. Very good writing and story conception.

Writer's block can be cured sometimes but skipping the part that's giving you trouble and moving ahead in the chapter and writing the scene you enjoy most. Sometimes you go back and fill in, and sometimes you find you can skip it. But it helps me get started.

Good luck.

ma

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20 Jun 2009 13:52 #15957 by Woodclaw
Replied by Woodclaw on topic Re: Power network: Potential

Just to add my compliments to Anon. Very good writing and story conception.

Writer's block can be cured sometimes but skipping the part that's giving you trouble and moving ahead in the chapter and writing the scene you enjoy most. Sometimes you go back and fill in, and sometimes you find you can skip it. But it helps me get started.


I'll try, thanks.

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