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Deep Down Inside - Part 09

Written by circes_cup :: [Monday, 20 August 2012 08:07] Last updated by :: [Monday, 01 October 2012 00:01]



"Hey, are you guys in there?" It was Jared's voice, from down below, near the main door. "I just want to make sure you're OK."

"We're fine," Louisa shouted back. "More than fine."

"Thank god we sealed that damn door," Vicky said, stepping off the edge of the roof closest to his voice. The others followed, landing with a thud three stories below. Their fall had left six-inch-deep indentations in the ground, but had been painless to them.

"Wow," Jared exclaimed, "you girls still look phenomenal."

"We feel phenomenal too," Louisa replied.

"It's more than skin deep, Jared," Vicky put an athletic arm around his shoulder and started walking him in the direction of the apartments. The others followed. "I found a way to pack our muscle fibers more efficiently. Even though we're the same size as we used to be, we're stronger now."

"Uh, how does that work?"

"Well," Vicky twirled a finder through the auburn locks hair. "I figure out how to make my mitochondria one fourteenth as long, one fourteenth as wide, and one fourteenth as high as normal human mitochondria. So, each square inch of our cells is fourteen times stronger than each square inch of yours."

"That's pretty scary," Jared replied hesitantly.

"For everyone else, maybe," she giggled.

Jared stopped walking for a moment. "Vicky, did you say fourteen times as strong?"

She nodded.

"Uh, Vicky," Jared replied hesitantly. "You were always pretty much a dunce when it came to math. Are sure you have this right?" They were passing the gas station on the corner, and a tanker truck was pulling in to refill the underground tanks.

"What do you mean?" She replied.

"Take the tank on that truck. Something one fourteenth the length of that tank would be about the size of a watermelon. Do you think therefore that the tank can hold only fourteen watermelons?"

"No, it would be a lot more."

"Right." Jared had taken an almost professorial tone. "In order to figure out how many watermelons would fit inside the tank, you have to raise fourteen to the third power." Jared paused as he did some math in his head -- one of his particular talents. "And I believe that comes to 2,800. So you should be...." Jared paused as the implications of his math exercise sank in, "you should be 2,800 times stronger than you look."

"Oh my gosh, that's soooo cool," Vicky squealed. "Being 2,800 times stronger sound a whole lot more fun than being fourteen times stronger, don't you think girls?"

"Yea!" Tammy squealed, clapping her hands. "We're not just strong. We're SUPER, SUPER strong."

"Holy shit," Vicky squealed, hugging Jared. "What would I ever do without you!"

"Probably scare the shit out of some other guy. You're not serious, right? I have to ask -- earlier tonight, you transformed into supermodels. That much is hard enough to believe. Be please tell me you're not serious about this strength shit. There's no way you could pack the strength of 2,800 into a single body."

With an arm draped around his shoulders, Vicky brought her face close in with his. "How much do you think that petroleum tanker truck weighs?"

"About 80,000 pounds fully loaded," he said, with trepidation. "I needed that for my engineering class."

Vicky winked a devastating smile at him before and taking off toward the gas station at a trot.

"Vicky, tell me you're not serious!" he shouted after her.

"I just need to cover up some mischief from earlier tonight!" She shouted back.

Vicky slipped out of view behind the tanker truck. A moment passed, followed by a monstrous groaning and creaking as the truck seemed to rise about six feet into the air. The tank bent slightly -- not designed to be supported in the middle -- and the truck cabin swung back and forth uselessly on its pivot.

"Gawd, I feel so fucking powerful!" Vicky exclaimed, walking back to them with the enormous truck held above her head. Small trees and street signs fell victim to the enormous object she carried. Even given the absurdity of the situation, Jared remarked at the exceptional physical attributes Vicky displayed. Her muscles were perfectly proportioned, and those tits were utterly unforgettable. How he wished he could get his hands on that body, especially if it was occupied by Vicky's old and meek personality, and not the one that carried around tanker trucks like toys.

Vicky directed her attention to the gym, only about 100 yards behind them on their path. "Do you think maybe Walker gym burned down tonight?" Vicky giggled.

"Perhaps the a careless gas truck driver took a wrong turn and barreled right into it," Tammy offered, her blue eyes sparkling.

Vicky smiled. "It must have happened right about.... now." Cocking her arms back, she launched the truck off like a soccer ball being thrown into a game. It flew through the air and landed with a catastrophic bang, the yellow of the resulting fireball lighting up the night sky and emitting a searing heat, even from their current distance. Jared winced at the heat of the blast, but noticed that the girls did not react at all.

"What the fuck did you people do?" It was the truck driver, emerging from the gas station with paperwork in hand.

"Did you just swear at us?" Louisa retorted. "I don't like it when people swear at me."

Vicky smiled to see how newly assertive Louisa had become.  {{You go, girl!}} she thought.

"Yes you fucking bitch. One of you turned the ignition, didn't you, and sent that thing rolling away? Who was it?" He snarled.

"Let me show you how we did it", Louisa said. She quickly grabbed one of his legs and one of his arms, raising him over her head. "Hey up there, your life is in my hands now. How does that feel?"

"Put me down!"

"Well," she continued, "it feels great to me. And that's what matters." Turning to Vicky, she continued. "Did you say something about the driver being in the crash?"


"Sorry buddy, we need you for our storyline," Louisa quipped, hurling him 100 yards into the fire.


"... So it is with grave hearts that we gather here tonight in candlelight vigil to remember the eleven who died inside this gymnasium only 24 hours ago. In the end, we don't know why the truck veered with such speed in to the building -- perhaps brake failure, perhaps something else. But in the end tragedies do happen, and there is not always an easy explanation. The ten of our students that we did lose appear to have died doing what they love -- engaging in a rigorous game of basketball."

"This sucks," Kim pouted, playing with the wax in her candle. "I'm already bored."

"Now, I will read you the names of each of the people that died, as well as a brief message from those who knew them best."

"I know, this is stupid," Louisa agreed. "We are now the most amazing creatures on this planet, and we don't even know what we are capable of yet. We need to go out and play."

Kim brushed the wax off her finger and then passed her finger quickly through the candle flame. She ran it back and forth through the flame several times, a little bit slower each time. Finally, she just held her finger steadily in the flame, without an ounce of pain on her face. "Appears we're fireproof," Kim observed.

"Cool!" Tammy responded.

"That gives me an idea," Kim mused.


"You'll see," Kim smiled conspiratorially. "But first we need to get out of this dumb memorial service."

"Why didn't you ask earlier?" Tammy giggled. "I've got just the thing."

"What’s that?" Kim asked.

"I needed an excuse to try that thing you did last night." Tammy closed her beautiful azure eyes, pursed her flawless lips and began to slowly inhale. Tammy's already impressive bust seemed to grow further has her chest expanded, and her golden mane began to flap in air turbulence that was entirely of her own creation.

As Kim had experienced the prior night, at the point where one would have expected Tammy's lungs to be full, the movement of air only seemed to intensify. It was as if the air was being packed into a ridiculously small space inside Tammy's lungs. Kim's candle went out, as well as a few of its neighbors.

Tammy opened up one eye long enough to wink at Kim, and then redoubled her effort. Within moments, she had produced a gale force inward rush of wind that instantly put a hundred candles out and left many audience members scrambling to regain their footing. The barrage of wind continued unabated, and soon some audience members turned away for the cover of buildings or cars. Other people stubbornly remained.

A sudden calm descended on the scene as Tammy took a moment to speak. "Are we done with this event?"

"You bet!" Kim replied.

Tammy flashed a winning smile and pursed her lips again. This time, she exhaled, and the massive volume of air that had somehow packed itself into her lungs was now being unleashed in a single blast on the remaining crowd. Chairs flew clear into the air, and a twenty-foot tree limb was torn clear off its trunk, coming down in the middle of the audience area. The President of the University was blown clear of the dais, the podium flying off after him. Tammy's friend smiled as the effortless gale only intensified, soon the loud cracks of two or three toppling trees could be heard, followed by the rustle of leaves as their canopies crashed to the ground. A nearby roof broke apart and began to take to the air. By the end of the onslaught, only a few frightened people, and four devastatingly hot girls, remained.


President Folsom closed his eyes in pain. The wind had thrown him on his back hard, and now his nostrils were full of the smell of wet grass and soil. He could feel a heavy hardwood object on top of him as well -- probably the podium. He didn't have a very good angle on it, and his initial efforts to move it were unsuccessful.

Then he felt the podium somehow lift on its own, followed by the sound of hardwood snapping, twenty feet away. A person was kneeling down next to him, and he soon smelled the most seductive perfume that had ever graced his senses.

"Are you ok?"

The spectacle of divine beauty that greeted him as he opened his eyes was even sexier than the perfume. Blond hair, blue eyes, flawless teeth, gorgeous hair, a beautiful and perfect countenance, and curves that were out of this world -- the sight literally took his breath away.

"It looks like all your deans and assistants left you, Mr. President. Can I give you a hand up?"

The President wordlessly offered his hand to the beauty and felt himself hoisted up in a single jerk. Looking her eye to eye, she was nearly as tall as him, and he was nearly six feet tall.

"Thanks," he said. "I have no idea what hit me."

"Well, the podium, for one thing," the girl laughed.

"Indeed. That was one heck of a wind storm. I have no idea where that came from."

"I do," she beamed, extended her hand. "The name's Tammy."

"Thanks," he replied feeling a little rush of excitement as they shook hands. What are you doing, he wondered to himself, lusting after one of your school's own students?

President Folsom tried to take a step forward, but a yelp of pain inadvertently escaped his lips. He had sprained his foot, he realized.

"I can give you a ride home!" she offered, in an oddly blithe way.

"No, I'm ok, thanks," he said with a twinge of regret. "I can still drive my car."

"Not if it's over there," she chirped, pointed to a downed tree with a twisted black object underneath it.


Kim appraised herself in the mirror, securing her chestnut hair in a hair clip and running her hands down the sides of her stunning hourglass figure. The jeans had been hard enough to find -- jeans always are -- but the top had proved near impossible. Finally, she had settled on a simple tube top, the largest she could find but nonetheless stretched beyond its intended size, and an unbuttoned flannel shirt draped over her shoulders. Oh well, Kim said, it's not a stunning outfit, but I won't need much of it in an hour anyway.

As Kim closed her apartment door behind her, she felt a little bit odd leaving on this personal mission with empty hands. She was going to pick a fight at least two of her long-time enemies, and yet she wasn't bringing a knife or a gun or a stick or even her purse-- just her bare hands.

Arriving at the women's shelter, Kim was surprised to see how quickly the demolition and construction had happened. The overnight residents of shelter had been evicted one week ago, and already the residential wing had been razed, with a shiny new natural gas tank in its place. The tank was large, about twenty feet long.

Running her hands over it, Kim couldn't help feeling a moment of uncertainty. It was very solid, and made of thick metal. Steeling her courage, Kim mounted her hands squarely under the tank, bent at the knee and lifted. She was rewarded instantly by the screaming of metal followed by a rapid series of snaps -- eight or nine large foundation bolts had popped clear off. Wow, Kim thought, that was effortless; I can't believe how ridiculously strong I've become! She quickly circled to the other side of the tank -- the one with the gas line running to the building -- and again separated it from its foundation. After a glance around to ensure she was unwatched, Kim grabbed the metal pipe of the gas line itself and ripped it off with no more effort than the removing of a stem from a cherry. This left a hole through which gas was audibly escaping. Rapidly, Kim raised the massive tank to her lips-- and inhaled.

Kim took a deep draught, filling her lungs and then continuing to take even more in. With more self-awareness than the first time she had done this, Kim could actually feel her lungs compacting the gas to a tiny fraction of its original size. Her lungs, having experienced this before, were anxious for a repeat, and they hungrily devoured contents of the tank until it was nearly empty. Not nearly satiated, her lungs continued to draw in more and more, until finally, Kim heard an odd groan and realized that the tank was beginning to collapse in on itself. Oh my god, Kim thought to herself, the walls of this tank must be an inch of pure steel! Even my lungs are absurdly powerful!

The groans of the tank accelerated as additional sections began to cave in. It was all so effortless that soon it became little more than a game. She redoubled her efforts to see how quickly she could get the steel mass to fold and was rewarded with a cacophony of screeching sounds. In only a few moments, the tank looked like nothing more than an empty tube of toothpaste.

Giggling to herself, Kim whistled absently as she approached the rear door of the auto dealer-- the only door they left open after hours. Opening the door, she slipped inside, which proved surprisingly awkward given that she was still carrying the crumpled remains of the tank. Kim decided to fold the metal object several times to make it easier to carry, but the resulting screech of steel attracted more attention than she had intended.

"What the hell was that?" Manny barked, barging around the corner. Kim felt her heart skip a beat. She had confronted the guys in the gym with ease, but Vicky had been there to support her. No, she was alone. What if all her newfound power failed her? What would happen to her then?

"... and who the hell are you?" Manny continued. Kim had forgotten that he would not recognize her. Despite the crudeness of his words, his voice had softened.

"I'm Kim's friend."

"Well, you're a whole lot better looking than that cow."

Kim paused a minute to let the comment sink in. She felt the anger inside starting to grow-- and a tingle of excitement came with it. Welling up inside of her was a desire to destroy and dominate. The thought of it produced a wet spot in her crotch. Thank you, Manny, she thought to herself, for that little nudge. Time to show you what happens to people that piss me off.

"That.... cow... wanted me to let you know that we broke your little gas tank." Kim held the crumpled mass up for inspection. It looked like squashed raisin.

"What the fuck? Do you know how much that cost us? How the hell did you manage to fuck it up so badly?

"That isn't the question you should be asking me right now."

"And what the hell kind of question should I be asking you right now?"

"You should be asking me, if I can fuck up a gas steel gas tank this bad, what can I do to you? Or more to the point, what can't I do to you?" She tossed Manny the remains of the tank. He tried to catch it, but instantly yelped as the weight of it knocked him off his feet. He barely avoided being crushed.

"Ooops!" Kim giggled. "Was that too much for your muscles to hold? It's only, like, five hundred pounds."

"Jesus, were you just carrying that thing?"

"You don't listen to me very well, do you Manny?"

By now, Kim noticed that Manny's brother also emerged. Having heard the ruckus, he had apparently stopped in the shop to pick up a tire iron before coming into the room. "Is she giving you trouble, Manny?" He asked, gripping the tire iron menacingly in one hand as he slowly approached.

"That's so annoying," Kim groaned. "I was hoping we wouldn't be interrupted." Kim glanced around her and saw a large hardwood desk nearby. She hefted it into the air -- so easy! -- and casually tossed it in the brother's direction. The massive object hurtled through the air before colliding with the man and then smashing into the back wall with a loud crack. The desk was splintered and broken, and there was no human movement beneath it.

Wordlessly, Manny reached to his belt and drew something out. It had a glint of steel to it. Before Kim knew what to think, she was being stabbed with a hunting knife. A bolt of fear raced through her as she stood there. I might be strong but I'm still flesh, she said to herself tremulously. And now I'm going to die -- now of all times, now after recently becoming so strong and beautiful -- and all because I was too bold, too stupid! If Vicky was here, this wouldn't have happened!

Kim saw Manny plunge the knife into her, but it felt as if someone was tapping her-- nothing more. But when she looked down she saw Manny repeatedly and furiously jab the knife into her abdomen with no more success than if he had done so with a concrete wall. On his final jab, Manny grunted as he apparently redoubled his effort. The knife collided once more with her upper abdomen, the tip breaking off.

"Wow, give me that for a second," Kim squealed in fascination. She ripped the knife out of his grip and held it's blade against her finger. Slowly pressing it into her finger, she noticed that no blood emerged. Removing the blade, she saw not even a scratch on her finger.

"OK, this is too weird. Is this blade even sharp?" She asked. She grabbed Manny's arm and drew it to her. Manny tried to resist, but his efforts were useless against the unstoppable juggernaut Kim had become. Kim carefully drew the blade of the knife across Manny's forearm, and a read pathway of blood quickly emerged in its wake. The knife was razor sharp. "Cool!" She exclaimed.

Kim then tried the same experiment on herself, with much more force on the knife. The knife made a crack as it snapped in two, but her forearm was unblemished. "That is SO cool, don't you think?"

Manny was silent in reply.

"It think I'm invulnerable! Watch!" Kim held the remaining half of the knife up to her face and slowly ran her tongue along the razor-sharp blade. Slowly, the blade of the knife began to bend backwards, conceding to the thousands of pounds of force created by her tongue alone. "Wow, Manny, am I awesome or what?"

"You can burn in hell," Manny growled.

"Actually," Kim smiled, releasing him. "That's what I had in mind for you."

Kim picked up a loaded file cabinet -- something that surely weighed hundreds of pounds -- and casually tossed it against the door through which she had entered. She repeated this with two more cabinets as Manny crept away slowly towards the office.

"Manny, you know you're not going anywhere. All the other exits are locked this time of day." A hissing sound emerged, and the pungent smell of natural gas quickly began to permeate the room.

"Where's that gas smell coming from?" Manny asked as he slowly backed away, around a large boardroom table, cradling his bloody forearm.

"It's coming from me. You don't have a light, do you, Manny?"

Manny shook his head, but his eyes betrayed him. Kim followed his glance to the ashtray by the coffee pot, with a green cigarette lighter standing nearby. "Cool, thanks!" She exclaimed, grabbing it and smiling at Manny.

Grabbing him by the shirt collar, she slammed him against the wall, cracking the plaster with the impact of his body. "I've been fantasizing about doing something like this to you for a long time, Manny, ever since I started volunteering at the shelter and you called me a fat terd, three years ago."

"Kim?" Manny offered in confusion, examining her eye-popping curves once again.

She only smiled wider in reply. Turning her head away from Manny, Kim held the lighter to her mouth and pursed her beautiful lips. Flicking the lighter on, she released an intense jet of gas that quickly became a twenty foot long blowtorch.

"Holy shit!" Manny exclaimed in panic.

Seeing Manny's terrified reaction made Kim's sex ache with excitement. Rather than kill him right away, Kim realized that she wanted to play a little bit. She blew fire in a quick and searing arc, sending the drywall on either side of him, and the carpet around his feet, into flame.

"How's it feel to be powerless?" Kim prodded.

Manny only trembled in reply.

However, moments later, Kim heard a 'whoosh' and saw a look of relief cross Manny's face. She felt cool water begin to cascade down her back, and looking up, realized with annoyance that the sprinkler system had come on. One of the sprinkler heads was only five feet above them, and the fire she had used to terrorize Manny was quickly diminishing. Picking up the twenty-foot board table with one hand, she absently waived it above her head, producing an enormous crashing sound and a massive gash in the ceiling. Acoustic tile, dust, sprinkler pipe and bits of boardroom table all came violently crashing down. Severed and broken, the sprinkler pipe uselessly sputtered water onto the floor.

"Where were we?" Kim asked

"Please..." Manny pleaded.

"Oh, that's right," she recalled, flicking the cigarette lighter on again. "You were about to die."

As she turned her head, and the flame, towards Manny, Kim smiled inside to think that, ironically, this was something like blowing him a kiss.


Jared's hands shook as he returned the coffee cup to its saucer, the rattle of the china drowned out by the ambient noise of the cafe. He looked up at Vicky, who sat contentedly across from him in skin tight jeans and a leather jacket. The sparkling green-blue of her eyes was intensified by the deep ochre of her hair. Despite her contented smile, she was peering deeply into him.

"Vicky, eleven people perished in that gym, and it was at your hands."

"That's not true, Jared," Vicky chuckled. "It was a team effort."

"This isn't funny." Jared tried to be firm, but the nervousness trickled into his voice.

"Jared, you don't have to be nervous with me." Vicky leaned forward, the partially zipped leather jacket failing to fully conceal her heaving bust line. A feminine scent filled Jared's nostrils, overwhelming the smell of the coffee. It was intoxicating.

"I could kill you in an instant," she smiled, "but I don't have any reason to. And you're not going to give me one, are you?"

"Vicky, you're putting me in an awful place. I know a crime has been committed here."

"Jared, if I wanted to put you in an awful place, it would be a lot worse than this. Trust me, honey," she ran her fingers down his cheek. "Most of those guys didn't deserve to live."

"Most of them?"

"That's right, most of them. A few of them I would have been fine letting go. But you have to understand something: killing them felt great."

"Vicky, listen to yourself!"

"Oh, Jared," Vicky sighed as she slowly curled a soup spoon around her finger. It bent as if it were nothing more than a wet noodle. "You appear to be the conscience of the group. And seriously, it's adorable. We need a conscience, I suppose. But I'm warning you not to overdo it."

"OK, I'll keep my mouth shut for now, but please, don't hurt anybody else."

Vicky leaned in close, whispering into his ear. "You know," she said, the hotness of her breath sending a tingle down Jared's spine. "Being on my good side could someday have certain... advantages."

Later that night, as Jared stared sleeplessly at the ceiling, he felt his hand reaching down below as his mind became filled with images of Vicky's advantages.


Flames lapping at her body, Kim casually sauntered through the dealership's office and show room, incinerating things as she went.

She found that she really enjoyed destroying stuff. Piles of paper files only took a second under her jet of flame to transform into towering infernos. The cracked wooden desk on top of Manny's brother took a few seconds longer. Moving to the shop floor, she found that fuel oil and gas tanks burned really easily of course, but she was surprised to see how quickly she could send tires and plastic up into flames as well. Nothing, it appeared, could resist her for long.

But that wasn't the best part. Even stuff that isn't supposed to burn, like metal, turned out to be surprisingly fun. Turning to her attention to one of the cars, she flipped the cigarette lighter on and drowned the front section in intense blue flame. It remained unchanged for a moment, but soon was sagging before her very eyes. Eventually it collapsed into a formless heap, with a pool of molten metal quickly forming at the bottom.

"Groovy!" she giggled, scooping up some of the liquid metal with her hand. It felt heavier than a normal liquid. She knew that merely touching it would be a life-threatening burn to anyone else, but to her it felt luxuriously warm.

Her clothes by now were on fire as well, and Kim decided to finish the job, directing a jet of gas down at herself. Her top, jeans and panties went up in smoke, leaving only a leather belt grasping at fragments of cloth. Grabbing two handfuls of molten metal, Kim spread the substance over herself and was rewarded with a delicious sensation, like a hot mud bath she had once taken at the spa. Kim rubbed the molten metal over one nipple and watched as it instantly spring to life, a torrent of sexual pleasure coursing through her. She ran it over her sex as well, her clit expanding eagerly in response. In this new body, Kim reveled, even arson was an erotic experience. Vicky, you devil, she thought, why does everything in this new body have to feel so good?

The fire by now was monstrous in proportion. A flame retardant system of some sort activated, above her in the auto body shop ceiling. Annoyed, Kim shot a blistering torrent of blue flame in its direction, and was tickled to see the entire ceiling soon collapse around her. "Nothing can stop me!" she laughed.

By the time the fire department arrived, there was very little for them to save, except a naked girl, reclining on top of a partially molten car, miraculously alive despite the thousand-degree heat of the fire. She was ridiculously beautiful, even with ash on her. As a somewhat aroused fireman carried her out, she even seemed to have a blissful smile on her face.




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