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Written by WhitePaw :: [Thursday, 02 March 2006 14:38] Last updated by :: [Friday, 05 April 2013 15:48]



by Whitepaw







And now, our feature presentation …


"Sweet dreams are made of these.

Who had a mind to disagree?"


Something about the sheen on those satin arm-length gloves drove him twitchy, especially when she adjusted her boned lace corset like snuggling with herself.


Galaxy 1: Atomic Dawn


"Travel the world and the Seven Seas,

Everybody's looking for something."


Her little black number made the Burger King feel like Paris. The flap of her miniskirt seemed to stooge slap every guy in the room every time she shifted; like watching a tennis match as she absently rolled her hips around on the little plastic stool – like a jawbreaker on her tongue. His eyes only came up for air to ponder why her face was so angelic for but a moment before plunging back into the depths of her-


A surround-sensory experience by White Paw


"Come on hold your head up.

Keep your head up. Move along,"


They ate something.

They drank something.

Small talk happened.

Clouds drifted by in the sky for a better look down her-


Edited for


"Come on hold your head up.

Keep your head up. Move along."


She didn't seem to mind, drinking in the stares like a thick milkshake.

She seemed to shake the dance club out of her blonde mane like water from an umbrella. He bounced with the crowd in the lights, entranced by her lava lamp flow, no cares for how they got there or why the two of them were sopping wet. It had something to do with trying to tee off golf balls from her cleavage while the sprinklers were going, but it made no sense to him now (or why every other shot was like teeing off a railroad spike).


Entry to Writer's Workshop 1.7


"Some of them want to use you.

Some of them want to get used by you."


She danced backwards, in slow motion, in a tropical waterfall, her naked form obscured only by the glistening water cascading over the sweep of her curves.

But that was just on the breaks … from the sex.


Sibling Rivalry, unlimited length.


"Some of them want to abuse you.

Some of them want to be abused."


She could peak like a firecracker-and throb there, blazing for hours, sometimes with him, sometimes without. He could do no wrong. They quivered at every touch. She broke beds and floors beneath him like riding a bucking mastodon, but slithered through his arms and fingers like a svelte garter snake. He'd long ago lost track of how many outfits they'd slipped her out of, much less in how many ways, or in how many places they'd left whole piles of her 'clothes'.


Cinematography by White Paw


"Sweet dreams are made of these.

Who had a mind to disagree?"


She knew which hotel rooms were occupied and which weren't from miles away. Sometimes she cared. Champaign whirlpools to coin-op beds, she had to sample them all. Slipping in the windows, barred or not, no penthouse was safe.

Shrink's chase lounge?

Broke that too.



Graphic design by White Paw


"And I said sweet dreams are made of these.

Comeon, hold your head up, rolling on,

Comeon, keep your head up, rolling on,"


She had this thing for breaching out of whirlpools in the sunset, all slippery for his hands.

Sometimes she wore a swimsuit.

It was the dark, hushed sex in darkened little corner offices, spit strung between their lips, hands and legs intertwined in dreary office casual, fistfuls of crumpled reports for sheets that-


Directed by White Paw




They walked into the party innocently enough, her draped in that long red slip of satin that clung like cellophane, him in a tux on either of her arms, her hair tied up like a leash. The mansion garden all turned as she seemed to absorb their attention into her rising breasts. She lasted about ten steps of slow-motion stride down the runway, breasts pounding out each footfall before them before she broke down, took her escorts by the skull and sucked a kiss out of them, wiped their faces off on her breasts and tossed them aside, thirsty for more.


Based on a short-format entry by White Paw


"Sweet dreams are made of these.

Who had a mind to disagree?"


The coat tailed security linebackers went down next, hammer tossed in her arms, back slammed against ivy-covered brick a first-down away, her tongue licking the kisses from the back side of their teeth while they squirmed in shock. The first tore her skirt off from behind. She took the second by the hand down the front of her dress, nearly breaking all the bones in his fingers between her soft, urge-saturated flesh and the silky satin of the remains of her dress. She said her similar 'hellos' to the remainder of the guests before getting down to her sloppy business.


Powered by Vagabond Eye


"Some of them want to use you.

Some of them want to get used by you."


How did he keep up with her? He didn't. He was thousands of men, one after the other, loved, wiped, and tossed in her wake, always a new drooling puppy waiting in his place, so easily scooped up in her huge-searching.

She was searching for something, something inside her.


"Keep your head UP!" – Eurythmics



A feeling.

A want.


An urge … an emotion-


She sat up in a sweat-tossing blink, panting shallow, heart racing, sheets in her fists.


Sweat-soaked, but whole, teddy bears and covers tossed about the room in a loose salad. Unicorns and hearts finished the decor.


"Are you ok, angel?" Her dad's voice and knocking muffled through the door.

"I'm …" She gripped her flat chest in a panic. "Fine … daddy."


Her slender legs swung timidly to the floor. "Yes. Hopscotch must have nibbled my toes again."

Her pet rabbit stood, ears straining, concerned from behind a teddy bear in a shady corner.

"Ok, might want to put him back in the cage at night."

"He's fine, daddy."

"Alright." Her father closed the door. "Going to bed now."

She toed open her closet door, and stared. Her fingers ran over the hangers of school and Sunday dresses while Hopscotch's whiskers sniffed over her ankles, nervously.

She pulled out an old Halloween costume from last year.

Already its blue top didn't fit, the seams around the red diamond S torn from the last time she tried. And the skirt-

She held it up to herself in the mirror.


She felt Hopscotch's sandy tongue start in on her feet and looked away from the strange man standing in the shadows behind her in the reflection.

He was gone in that blink, a shadow of a unicorn in the corner of her eye, nothing more.

She tossed the costume in the pile of laundry in the corner and flopped back on her bed. Hopscotch joined her in one velvety hop, tickling her nose as he flopped down next to her.

"Childish." She sighed.

The ghostly wind whispered back.


She sat up in a blink, eyes darting around the room, Hopscotch kicking like a pom-pom in her arms.


Coat Check


Angie sighed and closed her textbook. It was getting too dark to read in the back seat of the car. Passing streetlights only made things worse. She nosed up her glasses and pulled out her ear buds to check in.

"That Uber Babe is such a slut!" Jenny at shotgun had been bubbling the whole trip. "I bet she's slept with the whole league, and Uber Dude twice on Sundays."

"Shhh! Geez!" Mel nearly swerved driving. "What if she hears you? She's got like insane super hearing and stuff!"

"Tsk." Jenny threw back her hair. "Dressed like THAT? I don't think she'd mind my little slander, not like I'm paparazzi. Besides, Super Girl wouldn't let her hurt anybody."

"Super Girl's about all that's left, and just because she stays out of Uber Babe's biz"

"Oh you know Uber Babe SO gets what she wants, and so often." Liz brooded in the back seat beside Angie. "I mean geez, with a body like that-"

"She is SO not human."

"And those are SO fake!"

Nervous silence hit like a hammer, the three of them glancing about nervously.

The car's motor hummed into the night.


Giggles exploded.

"Oh yeah! Like any of them care what we think!" Jen chuckled.

"If they see us tonight they might." Mel grinned.

"Hey, when are we getting home?" Angie fidgeted with her seat belt. "Anatomy test tomorrow. You said you'd let me study."

"Pffff-" They all stared suspiciously at each other.

"Um …"

"Relax bookworm." Mel's eyes twinkled. "We're kidnapping you. Enjoy the ride."


"Oh, and you'll GET your anatomy lesson all right."

"SShhh! You'll spoil the surprise!"

"Don't matter … we're here."

The car pulled in to a mini mall just off the freeway in an obscure bedroom community on the edge of nowhere, nearly a hundred miles from the college dorms.

"Call for help, Angie. There's no one to save you out here." Liz winked and popped out. "Come along quietly now …"

"You've so got to be kidding." Angie stepped out in her jeans and sweats into the cold night air.

"Nope!" Liz took her by the hand and led her to a nondescript dry cleaners. "And you'll so need a costume."


They barged into the cleaners. The sign in the darkened window said 'closed', but the door was open. Bells rang on the door as the four of them crashed in.

"Well hello, ladies." The short, balding man put down his newspaper, greeting them like family from behind the old oaken desk. "And – ?"

"Vag, this is Angie." Jen bubbled over, and shoved Angie forward. "She needs an outfit for tonight."

"Ah. Yes, of course." Except for the motorized garment racks behind the counter, the whole dust and wood-paneled store seemed straight out of a spaghetti western.

"Wait, I just want to go home." Angie protested. "I can wait in the car if you want, whatever you're doing. I didn't bring a wallet or anything I-"

"I wouldn't take money if you offered, Miss Angie." The man eyed her expertly, his fingers absently on the garment rack controls. "Size 8-10 I'm guessing?"

"Seriously, what's going on?"

"Party." Jen grinned. "We thought you needed to get out more."

"Any at all!" Liz coughed.


"Anyway, Club Galaxy, we found it last month and had a total blast there!"

"Super secret!"

"It's a fan club party that moves around out here, everybody dresses up, total geek!"

"But it's the perfect cover-" Mel draped her cape around her as she slinked out in a orange and purple Fire Girl costume.

"Paparazzi can't tell the reals from the fans!"

"So they leave it alone, it's the only night life the paranormals get-"

"Heroes, villains, everybody in between-" Liz zipped up a skin tight Mentalla catsuit as she slithered from behind the curtain.

"No press."

"And majorly hot guys!"

"Last time we met this-"

"Shhh! Geez! He's mine!"

"As if! You KNOW he's banging Uberbabe!"

"Yeah, trying to like everybody else, but when he wants real loving-"

"Gawd! You're horrible!"

"Purrrrfectly horrible!" Jen pounced out of the changing stall in a very convincing Tigress outfit.

"Give you his number?"

"That don't mean anything. Everybody's got their secret ID's in there-"

"Didn't get it did you."

"Anyway, Vag here's the real deal, makes sure all the norms look the part. Time you had a makeover, Angie."

"What!?" Angie's scream echoed through the wake of silence. "Oh … my … god." She looked flabbergasted at her housemates all decked out to kill-comic convention style. "That's so …" She gripped her textbook nervously. "CHILDISH!"

The clock on the wall … ticked.

"Flame Girl" strutted up to her, flared her well-accented chest and took a hip. "You're just jealous." She turned a heel and walked back. "And way to shy sometimes, Angie."

"Wha-" Angie sank onto the big oak desk flabbergasted. "Fine. Do what you want. I'll wait here, call a cab maybe."

"Aw comeawn, Angie." Tigress purred up softly beside her on the desk. "Study study, study. You never have any fun. Just this once?"

"Yeah, we won't tell." Mentalla tapped her forehead. "We're your friends!"

"You're all crazy." Angie clutched her textbook. "We're normal people. We go to school. We get desk jobs, teaching perhaps. It's what we do! Those super powered people-they're all accidents. Freaks. Mutants. Aliens! Might as well be lottery winners because yes, they exist, but no, it will never happen to you."

"For one night a month, Angie." Tigress licked whispered in her ear. "Nobody knows the difference. Dream with us … you might even meet some cute-"

"No!" Angie shoved her off. "What are you? Satan now? Geez! I said I don't want to go! You're just setting up to get burned, like the fodder we are to them!"

"Come on, girls." Tigress picked herself up. "Think about it Angie. Maybe next month." She tossed Angie the car keys. "Designate yourself home this time."

"What about you?"

Fire girl turned with a flame in her eye. "We'll be fine."

The door jingle bells jangled on their way out. The parking lot had exploded in disco lights and the jumbled pulse of crowd murmur and throbbing music.

Angie watched them go. She was trembling, pale and cold in the face. It took her a long moment to catch her breath, recover her composure, her pulse.

The music through the door faded to black.

Where the-

She crept to the door and opened it gently.

Parking lot.



The dusty blue Dodge they'd arrived in.

She turned back to the cleaner. He was just returning a pair of garment bags to the rack behind the counter, visions of Tigress' smoothly twitching tail slithering through her mind.

"Wait … you're-" She spoke before she could think.

"Yes." The hangers clicked on the worn metal rack.


"Yes." He dragged his newspaper from the counter, walking back to his old wooden desk. "Always did love that little tiger tail." He winked as he flapped open the paper between them.

"How much of that-" She turned, dazed and confused.

"Was real?"

"Um …"

"Or is it the shoes?" He chuckled.

"You know the real-"

"Of course. The real anybody who's anybody. I choose who I outfit." He crossed his feet on the desk. "Never tell."

"You're totally pulling my leg."

"No, but wouldn't mind." He peeked another look at her over his paper and hid again.

"Prove it."

"Sorry, all the merchandise is out tonight."

"Then what's all that?"

"Suits." He sighed. "Ties, shirts, slacks, blouses. The occasional incriminating sleeping bag."

"Thought so." She looked around. "Have an attic to this place or something?"

"No." He turned a page. "The door goes where you need it to go."

"Magic huh."


"Well, I gotta go." She paused and knelt down on the way out, peering beneath the curtains of the changing stalls in the corner.

"Looking for migits in icecream suits?"

"Cameras perhaps."

"Nice cover." He sighed. "You've more imagination than you let on."

"Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Angie. Come back soon."

She had a foot in the parking lot when she stopped and turned again. "I'm a size twelve."

"I was being nice, in front of your friends."

"Oh." She paused. "Thank you … I think."

Her eyes just couldn't pull off the two garment bags on the rack.

"Many powerful people trust me with their secrets, Angie. Bad people yes, but good people too."


"I won't tell."

"Tell what?"

"Your secrets." He sauntered back to the rack, folding his newspaper. "Dreams." He pulled the garment bags down and hung them on the forward rail. "Fantasies."

"No, I couldn't …" She bit her lip. "And I don't have that kind of fantasy, Mr …"

"I weave all my designs from dreams, Angie." He pulled off the bags. "I don't really design anything myself. Mel's dreams. Liz's dreams … your dreams."


A wave of white velvet deja-vu took her down at the knees.

"All just lines and fabric to me."

It was everything she'd ever buried in her deepest fantasies, everything she lit a match of dawn to every waking blink. All at once. They were all there. The twin diamond "S", one over each nipple, Power Woman's white velveteen catsuit cut with that huge keyhole that you could drive an I-beam through, just a ribbon of Super Girl's red skirt sewn into the Swiss cut thong (even higher than French), bracers, strappy golden sandals with dagger-like stilettos, stars, tiger stripes, a waif of a red satin, gold trimed cape EVERYTHING.

"… shit."

He threw it at her in a heap. "Yes, you may."

"You won't-"

"Charge or tell."

She half stood up and paused. "It's not real though." She stared longingly at the brazen emblems and stars. "I'm not this. I'm just a normal, human girl. Nobody's this. Not even Uberbabe."

"Dream, just for a moment." He pointed to a changing stall. "Don't even have to show me."

Twenty minutes later she stared disappointed at herself in the mirror. She almost outstretched the waist getting into the thing, and left the bust quite empty. The sandal straps weren't punched any where near slender enough for her, and the whole thing was just much to heavy for her. She could barely stand in it. It felt like a suit of mail armor on her. She was the maid in princess' clothing and she knew it.

"I thought you said you knew my size." She called out through the curtain.

"Pull the tag off."

"Tag?" She pulled the tag out from the left cup. It was written in sanscrit for all she could tell. It came off the string easily enou-

Beams of solid light exploded in her crotch. Fire and gold ran through her veins. Her eyes and scalp burned. Her breasts felt like somebody plugged a fire hose in from inside. The whole suit cinched down on her like a bear trap, then seemed to stretch out across her expanding body like spandex. The impact of it all sent her flying back-first across the cleaners, smashing like a wrecking ball into the wood paneling across the storefront.

She was on her feet in an instant.

The costume felt like wisps of nothing, she felt practically naked through it.

She felt like a mountain.

Mountain range.


Hurtling asteroid storm as she screeched to a halt just before the cracked steel mirror. "Oh my god."

"Goddess, Miss." The tailor chuckled to himself. "I never get tired of saying that."

Her breasts floated and throbbed, like volcanoes adrift in a hurricane. Her skin felt stretched thin and taut all over, like she was going to tear herself apart.

She whispered as gently as she could. "Turn it off …"

Glass blew out, everything in the store fractured at her whisper.

She heard the tailor's whisper from under the heavy desk. "Thunder twin power's deactivate."

He one-handed the desk from the gouge it had made in the wall behind. It splintered like dust in her hand. "What?"

The concussion of her question flattened the store to rubble scattered all around the parking lot and sent the little blue Dodge bouncing across the old asphalt end-over-end like a puppy.

"Geez!" The tailor coughed. "Think it, don't say it!"

She did.

She felt her body deflate in an instant. In a moment she was a mere fleck of her former self-but still felt tight enough to crumple Godzilla like so much wet tissue. Her breasts were almost small enough to reach the tips of.

"Again!" He coughed up blood at her feet.

Again she thought: thunder twin powers, deactivate!

And again she faded away, her muscles to something that would still crush cars, but her breasts deflated back into the alphabet.

"Again." With his last breath.

A moment later she was svelte again.

Again? She'd never been this curvy! She had sleeker lines than a dolphin and a chest prouder than a lion's. The costume clung to her like a handkerchief of a skating outfit, somewhat street legal yet concealing nothing about her.

Again she thought through the magic words.


Color bled out of the tailor's corpse at her feet. She picked him up like so much smoke as he faded to nothing.

Her fist went through asphalt like through crisp snow.

"Frak." She was still outrageously strong. "I'd like to wake up now please."

"At this point, you're not dreaming." The tailor brushed himself off stepping through from the fractured doorframe behind her. "I am."

"That doesn't make any sense." She stood to face him. She was the Barbie version of her old body, no taller, just … considerably more extreme. "Ok, so you can die in your dreams and all, but you can only dream your own dreams, right?"

"For you perhaps." He picked up a pebble of asphalt at his feet and flicked it behind her. Moments later it sprouted into a house-sized smoking meteorite. "But I've never studied law."

"You're a cartoon?" She could hear the fire trucks scrambling from the next town over.

"Your guess is as good as mine." He pulled the doorframe from the rubble and propped it up. "Sure you wouldn't like to go out tonight?"

"I just want to wake up." She pinched herself-or tried to. Her flesh was granite-hard. She tried over her arm, around her waist, finally getting some give from her breasts-but no pain.

"That's not about dreaming, Angie." He closed the door and opened it again. "That's about invulnerability." The door opened again into the flashing lights and pounding rhythms of the same club her friends had disappeared into. "Full-on Kryptonian is as weak as you can get any more, immune to kryptonite of course."

"I'm going to wake up sooner or later." She crossed her arms in a blink.

"Or never."

"Hopefully before class tomorrow."

"I wouldn't worry about that. You've all the time you ever need." He nodded to the door. "Live a little. I'll handle the mess out here."

"Well, if it is just a dream-"

"Oh, your friends are all in on it, of course."

She gave him a sideways look.

"And no, I wouldn't trust any of them with a box of crayons, let alone super powers. Their outfits are mostly show."

"And you trust me?"

"With everything. You're well practiced …" He winked. "At self restraint."

"If you've really seen my dreams of this-"

"Yes, I have … but in all these years no one else knows, do they."

"No. It's embarrassing."

"Just because you dream more passionately than anybody-nothing to be ashamed of."

"They wouldn't understand."

"Do they have to?"

"Yes, it's just that-"

"Scoot, before you pumpkin back!"

"Ok, how long will this-"

"I was just kidding. This outfit's permanent marker."

"Can't take it off?"

"Outfit, yes. Powers … no."

"I am going to wake up you know."

"Perhaps … but I never will."

"Can I keep it?"

"On one condition."


"Dry clean only." He winked.

"What are you? Vampire or something?"

"Just a shadow of a unicorn, Miss. Nothing more." With that he gripped the doorframe and swung it around her.

Glasses. Where'd she put her-

The club snapped into sharp relief all around her. It was a churning sea of inhumanity driven beneath a raging storm of glass and steel, of lights and sound. Thousands of people in all manner of costumes gyrated for position. Of course there was no shortage of repeat costumes, drifting, clumping together in spots to compare details, but in an instant she somehow knew there was no one dressed like her anywhere.

"DAMN!" A little fox boy's tail twanged straight up at the sight of her. "Holy crap that's awesome!"

She could see through them all, steel, leather, skin and bone. Most of the fans in their homemade costumes were easy to spot, but some of them-

"Excuse me?" She looked down at him over the edge of her still tremendous breasts.

"Come on, you gotta be kidding!" His hands nearly followed his eyes over her curves from the bottom up. "Double Kryptonian? You've got like five or six high-end power sets showing! You totally got a body for it too! I'm convinced! Wanna dance?"

She could pick off a thousand conversations in slow motion, despite the music. She could smell the mix of a hundred different scents adrift in the air just in her small corner of the place.

"Um … ok."

"Awesome!" He took her by the hand, but wound up jerked back on his ass before he could budge her.

"Oh, sorry." She picked him up effortlessly. "Where did you want to go?"

"Holy crap!" His eyes bugged out, fox tail twitching in excitement. "You're for real!"

People were starting to stare, openly.

"Aren't we all?" She shrugged absently.

She found them: Liz, Mel and Jen.

"Um, yeah … sure." She could hear fox boy salivating and felt the wet warmth of his stare deep in her newly massive cleavage.

Jen was busy apparently trying to rub her stripes off on a bartop brass pole across the dance floor while the other two egged her on, drinks in one hand, other arms around a couple of rather linebacker-looking brutes, giggling. Angie felt Liz pause and lift her glance over her shoulder, curious.

How could she-

"Comeon." Angie ducked into the crowded dance floor, dragging Fox Boy with her like a hand towel.

"Shit yeah!" Fox boy was strutting and kicking on the floor as soon as his feet hit it again. "Work it supes!"

Angie glanced about nervously like a high school dance for a moment. Nobody she knew. She started to move a bit more gracefully, just to try. Her body responded like a super bike, with instant ferocity to her slightest twitch. She felt tighter than baling wire, stronger than a battleship, smoother than an anaconda.

"Daewm!" Fox Boy stood stunned at the sight of her, mesmerized prey in a circle of slicing stares from all around.

What the hell.

Her eyes narrowed, a breathless expression as she poured her arms up through the wavy mane of her hair-and shifted into slow motion. The club bounced around her while her body slithered longwave in the midst of them, even as the lights began to strobe, she slowed. She was moving without moving, swooning before them in luscious defiance of every law in the physics book, seemingly out of time with the rest of the club.

Foxboy's lip just twittered in his own drool. The crowd around her had stopped dancing, just to stare as her hands moved over her curves before them.



"Time shifting?"

"Hey, babe. This squirt bothering you?" A mountain of a boy palmed Fox boy by the whole body and flung him trailing drool over the heads of the surrounding crowd. "Wanna dance with a real man?"

The crowd hushed.

Angie rolled herself upright again. She knew who he was too. Everybody knew Armageddon Al. He didn't particularly look bigger in person. He never really did fit in a newsreel frame. Dressed in heavy battleship plating strapped on with anchor chains, his luggage-sized brass knuckles gouging the concrete floor as he lumbered-seemed real-deal enough for the nearby crowd.

"New here babe?" He stared right down her cleavage from his twelve-foot tall brow. "Nice rack." He flexed his arms like a brick wall before her. "Like mine?"


"Speechless, I know." He grinned like the laces on a football. "Comeon, dance with me." His left arm circled her like a wagon train and gripped her from behind like a garbage truck.

His expression changed. He couldn't budge her either. "Wow." He stepped up right through all her personal space. "You got grit, girl. I like that." She came up just past his belt buckle. He was coming up to that too, right in front of her face, his leather pants stretching out like a poncho catching a bowling ball. "We should get together, someplace a bit more private?"

She looked around, but the whole crowd of costumed freaks was slowly turning the other way. She couldn't really see them from there through the mountain of his flesh anyway. None came to her rescue. She knew there were few that could take him on openly, and apparently they weren't around.

She reached up and gripped him by her small fist full of his chest hair and gave him a yank down to her.

He flopped down surprised onto all fours before her. The thud of it rattled the old warehouse windows an acre or more away in all directions. "Wow! Kinky!"

She scowled nose-to-nose before him and drew back her fist. "If I ever-"

"Albert!" Ultra Babe's shout hurt. She stood by with a keg in each fist, a fighting lemon expression across her face.

"Oh, hi babe." The monster shrugged between the two of them. "What can I say, all the heavy chicks want a piece of the 'geddon."

Angie dropped him unceremoniously on his face in disgust.

"Whoah! Like that eh?" He began the lengthy process of standing all the way up again.

"Sorry, kiddo." Ultra Babe elbowed Al in the ribs. "Can't turn my back on you for two seconds-" She nosed over Angie. "Quite a getup ya got there, fangirl." She flared out her huge breasts to nearly eye level – well into the higher vowels, her nipples popping nearly a hands-width out of the edge of her low cut white velvet cat suit. "Compensating for something?" She turned in a giggle back to the monster of a man, tapping the keg with her thumb like a soda can. "Drink up 'geddy. I got us a quiet corner reserved. You'll need the energy."Angie turned away and was about to slip back into the crowd. The insult was too much. "Compensating for sumpthin?" She mocked over her shoulder.

"What?" Ultra Babe bit off the edge of her keg, slammed its entire contents, wiped off on her sleeve and crushed the keg into her breasts one-handed. "You say something, squirt?"

"Hey, babe, I was just kidding." Al tried to wave off between them. "She's cute an all, it would have never worked out, I'm too much for the little – I was just trying to get you all worked up for-" "You super-heard me, slut." Angie turned around slowly to face Ultra Babe's muscle-bristling back. "Your pappa must have never loved you, raping so many guys like you do."

The music stopped.

"Girl, do you WANT to get smeared across three counties?" Ultra Babe ground through her teeth. "I'm a good girl, so I'm gonna let that one go, you snot-frail, human, POSER girl."

"Seriously, Al. You deserve better." Angie twisted, hands on her hips. "She'll never really love you either. She doesn't know how."

Ultra Babe appeared in a blink a whisker from Angie's face, fuming. "Shut …" She

raised her hand, ready to finger-flick Angie into next week. "Up."

"I hear she's a klutz in the sack too, even after all that practice."

"You have any idea how many people got smeared …" Ultra Babe bit her lip as she whispered. "After saying nicer things about me? … ANT girl?"

The crowd had taken about ten steps back.

"Never really had it, have you-not even with yourself."

"Any last words, prick girl?"

"Yes. Grow up."

Thunder struck the dance floor.

Ultra Babe's expression turned white, her fingers caught in Angie's fist.

"Because you're the one compensating." Angie drunk in Ultra Babe's look of helpless terror as Angie willed her own breasts to expand.

Thunder twin powers …


"Didn't you know?" Angie held Ultra Babe by the wrists, helplessly, forcing her to palm over Angie's enormously expanding, hardening breasts. "There's always somebody bigger than you." She jerked Ultra Girl's whole skull into her deepening cleavage. "More powerful than you." She let go of her wrists and let her struggle to try and pull herself from Angie's breasts as she held her like a lollypop. "And it'll be ME from now on."

"Wow." Al's pants ripped open.

"So play nice …" Angie slammed into the ground so hard she knocked pedestrians to their rumps for a hundred miles in all directions, dusting the club's remaining glass and windows and leaving bucket-sized divots in the concrete floor.

"Or I won't."

In a lightning spin and a flash of thunder she shot Ultra Babe's stunned body straight up through the roof like a bullet, landing as powered down as Angie could manage.

Club patrons picked themselves out of the wreckage like ants after a firecracker, brushing the debris from their costumes and capes.

Somebody clapped.

Angie looked around at the standing ovation that lit up around her.

Her friends looked on, as impressed as the rest of the crowd. Ultra Babe had been terrorizing the world in an unstoppable, insatiable nympho rampage for months, a wide swath of crippled or killed super guys and naysayer alike in her wake. Angie had just taken the alpha bitch down a peg.


She leapt into the air and bolted off into the sky before anybody started asking stupid questions. She was pretty sure her house mates hadn't gotten a decent look at her, but Liz … had an odd expression on her face last she looked.

She found Ultra Babe easily enough, her limp, stunned body still streaming through space at some insane speed. She woke easily enough to a little light shaking. Ultra Babe was the most powerful being in the world. All that power eventually drove her mad nympho, but it would still take more than a quick nuzzle and snap to knock her out for long.

"You!" Red beams of hate blazed from her eyes and struck Angie in the face with enough heat to melt a nuclear reactor. It felt like sticking her face in an oven to Angie – hot, but harmless.

"Wait I-"

"Get away from me, Bitch!" Ultra Babe shot off at some insane speed back to Earth.

"Seriously I-" The whole world seemed to slow down for Angie as she set off flying. With a flex of her will, even Ultra Babe's sprint slowed to a crawl and back to Angie as she slid around in front of her.

"Fuck!" Ultra Babe stopped short, breast-to-breast before plowing through Angie. "What the hell are you? Leave me alone!"

"Look," Angie snapped in front of Ultra Babe as she tried to dodge and weave out of it. "I'm a zillion times more powerful than you, so just relax."

"Just kill me then." Ultra Babe slunk low. "I probably deserve it."

"I want to help."

"You're an angel, aren't you." Ultra Babe pouted. "Probably returned with all the sum powers of all those guys I fucked to death – here for revenge."

"Superman, Mega Dude, Mr Infinity …"

"Stop it." Ultra Babe turned away. "Just do what you gotta do and get on with it."

"I miss having them around, but …"

Thunder twin powers Activate!

"But what?"

Thunder twin powers, Activate!

"You're evil or something?" Ultra Babe turned slowly around to face Angie.

Thunder twin powers, Activate!

"Going on a rampage, now that the world is free of anybody that can stop y-"

Thunder twin powers, Activate! Activate! Activate! ACTIVATE! ACTIVATE!!!! ACTIVATE!!!

"Oh god."

"GODDESS!!!" Angie flexed.

Tree-sized bolts of pure orgasmic electricity leapt from Angie's cataclysmic nervous system and tore off her skin-arcing across the gap to hit Uber Babe's frame like a speeding locomotive hitting a pedestrian.

"FUUUUUCCCCK!" Ultra Babe's bones lit up like neon through glass as she arched over, eyes blazing like the Sun, pure orgasmic electricity streaming from Angie into Uber Babe like Niagara Falls into a Dixie cup. She shuttered like a paper flag held out the window of a jet plane, hands cupping herself, straining, shaking, slowly reaching for Angie's breasts-

"Look!" Liz pointed up. The rest of the club was still picking themselves out of the debris crater. A spark lit the sky, belching out a white ring of blue fire and sparks across the sky. Night turned to day for one huge wave of light.


All the debris in the club crackled and leapt on sparks a foot in the air before falling back in a breaker of glass across the floor. The crowd let out a single shriek in unison, and fell writhing and shuddering to the floor, everybody wracked with a sudden burst of a sledgehammer orgasm.

Minutes past … and all the men had expunged themselves dry and lay exhausted and writhing in their own fluids.

It was a solid hour of screaming and moaning before any of the women began to catch their breath again.

Angie shook it off and powered down. She'd meant to rake Ultra Babe with a solid, once-and-for-all, ultra-sized eviscerating orgasm, but had snapped and gone off herself when Ultra Babe had managed to brush against Angie's nipple and closed the feedback loop.

WAAAAAAAY too much power.

Not that she hadn't enjoyed it. At that power level, ninth or tenth-she'd lost count, it had hit like a shockwave.

Nearly instantaneous.

Nearly infinite.

She could still sense the reverberating shockwave smoldering across the entire facing hemisphere of the Earth. Even the moon hung in a fog of kicked-up dust from her release, and the Sun itself sparked purple in resonance.


This was way beyond any of her childhood fantasies. Not even in her deepest, darkest-And she'd barely tapped her potential. She had felt like she could have powered up another ten Thunder Twin Power's Ac-wait. Don't even think it.

Twenty? A hundred perhaps?

Someday she'd have to test her true limits – someday in some very deep space.

That's about where she found Ultra Babe's hurtling carcass when she finally caught up to her. Angie's release had fired Ultra Babe off like a spark. Her body was torn and singed, deep to the bone in spots. Her hair was blackened, smoking stubble. Her wide-open eyeballs had scorched to black. Her skin was blistered and oozing plasma into space as she tumbled. Her crotch and nipples still sparked pink and blood. She had a joker-sized grin across her face, gurgling in warm, blissful satisfaction-and still alive.

Healing, in fact.

Who knew? Nobody had ever been able to bruise Ultra Babe, let alone draw blood. Angie was relieved. She hadn't meant to kill Ultra Babe, just singe off her nympho rampage once and for all. Ultra Babe was one seriously major-league tough customer, even for the super hero population of Earth. Utterly unstoppable in fact-until Angie came along. Angie had to give her some credit for surviving that, knowing how much exponentially more powerful Angie was than Ultra Babe in that instant.

Angie powered down as much as she could and cradled Ultra Babe's singed body in her arms as she flew gently back to Earth. Well, the Solar System first, but Earth soon enough.

It took hours. Angie had gone out in moments as a third exponential where she could slipstream time as she flew. Flying back as a mere Kryptonian was an exercise in patience, but she did it gently, so as to avoid tearing much more out of Ultra Babe's healing body.

Ultra Babe gurgled to wincing consciousness just passing Jupiter. "Oh god … ess."

"Shhh … rest."

"That was … insane."

"Just trying to help."

"Oh goddess … I will worship you for just another taste of-"

"Maybe smaller bites for a while."

Ultra Babe's head rolled back, her eyes blinking open painfully. "Oh goddess. You bite too …" "Just stop trying to suck it out of the world ok?"

"Granted." Ultra Babe's hand ran timidly through the singed ends of her regrowing hair. "I'm so sorry … .I never knew it could be so …"

"I get thirsty myself, it's ok. I'm the only one strong enough to pass judgment it seems, and I'm letting you off with a warning."

"You are an angel."

"Hardly. Just promise me one thing."

"Name it, my goddess."

"That you'd let me off too."

"Let you off, sure. Get you off? I'm not sure I can. Don't you go all nympho on us now …"

"I'm an angel, remember?" Angie winked.

Ultra Babe froze in fear.

"But I can be gentle too." Angie tucked herself back into her torn and singed costume as best she could.

Ultra Babe stared absently at Angie's twin S's. "You're way more than two."

"That was ten or so."

"Damn." Ultra Babe shook her head in disbelief. "I've heard one of the ancients tried that. Black holed at four."

"I'll be careful."

Ultra Babe shot a sarcastic look, with a bit of heat beam pepper.

"Well, you're feeling better."

Ultra Babe stretched out like a cat, and rolled her hips around a bit. "Still feeling it, actually. You're insane."

"Perhaps." Angie powered up a level and flexed. "And you're going to do what about it, exactly?"

"Pray for mercy?"

"Call me." Angie powered down and started to drift back to Earth.

"Wait-what's your name?"

"Name?" Angie paused. "Dunno. Don't really have one."

"Infinity?" Ultra Babe shrugged.

"Um … A little presumptuous, don'tcha think?"

"Not by what I felt … am still feeling, actually." Ultra stretched out and cupped herself. "Damn …" She shuddered. "It's been how long? Superman never set me off even this much!"

"Infinity kinda sounds like a guy anyway."

"Ooo! Can you shift genders?" Ultra Babe slid up beside her, a gleam in her eye.

Angie powered up a level or two, offering up her enormously erect nipples and- "Wait!" She powered down slyly. "Don't think so. Don't get me started trying like that!"

"Sorry." Ultra Babe spun around like a puppy. "I guess I'll never really be an entirely good girl again."

"You never were."

"Hey! I just have … needs is all. I mean holy fuck, Galaxy Girl, you of all people should understand!"

"Galaxy Girl?" Angie rolled the sound of it around a bit.

Ultra Babe shrugged. "Ultra Babe wouldn't want to have been muffed like that by anybody less! I got a rep don'tcha know."

"Sure. I like it."

"You're insane – but cool, for a good girl."

"And you need to work on your rep."

"Galaxy Girl's not-so-secret lover?"

"Ew …" Angie paused. "… and call me."

And she was gone in a wink, even to Ultra Babe's super senses.


Triumphant Return


"Free love!" Eric raised his beer in the dorm's cinderblock hallway.

"Come here, you." Angie watched through the locked door as Mel, Liz, and Jen circled Eric like the three sirens, flirting with their fingers over his chest, his face, before Mel ripped open her blouse and plunged Eric face-first by the skull.

"Hey!" Liz shoved her off, somehow slashing Eric's belt off with her bare nails. "Share the kill!"

"Share this." Jen hissed like a tigress, her stripes bleeding out as she flexed.

"Damn!" Eric scrambled to all fours. "Here kitty kitty kitty …"

Angie watched, disappointed through the door as her dorm mates not five minutes home from the party writhed over an impromptu orgy in the hall with the biggest geek in the building.

It had been like that all over, all night long. Angie had gone home, and gone through her wardrobe, none of which fit properly. She'd broken all her old bras before any of them would stretch around any of her. Her sweats still fit loosely, even tied off at her newly svelte waist. It was good enough to hide what she brought home from the party. She'd plead guilty to stuffing her bra if her dorm mates called her on it. She showered at night anyway when they were out partying, so she wasn't worried about that.

She'd read every word of every textbook she owned, and some that her dorm mates had-three times now. She'd recited every word flawlessly from memory as she read the second time. She read them all the third time just in disbelief and finished with a few rounds of "phone book chaser".

That took her twenty six seconds.

She'd squinted through the walls and read every word and equation in the building with whatever weird scrying vision she had. There seemed to be no limit to her senses. Well … ten miles or so of the Earth's crust was about the limit of it. But she was still able to read pages of fine print in a lawyer's office in a city fifty miles away.

She shifted herself into that slow-motion trick she'd come up with at the dance club. That helped a little. It was about all she could manage do to see the minute hand moving on the wall like a second hand, but waiting for her housemates to return home still seemed an eternity.

Meanwhile, the world had gone mad around her.

Plunging half the world into a mass orgasm for up to four hours hit the very culture of the Earth harder than she'd meant.

Much harder.

The EM pulse alone had been so colossal it had nearly wiped civilization off the Pacific Rim. It took three hours to dissipate, frying all but the most hardened military and credit card systems, even the back ups that had been off. Everything modern across seventy languages was fried. Monster hurricanes were spinning up all across the Pacific, its entire surface temperature having been microwave pulsed up ten degrees.

Not even the military knew all this for hours. Their GNED-equipped satellites had all blinked to black, been scalded anyway, and were only now just cycling back on with reserve systems, their expected mission lives halved. Civilian space assets had shattered like so much glass.

All air traffic shy of hang gliders across half the globe were struck paralized, engine and avionics controls all fried. That had been the world's super heroes first challenges. Hundreds of airliners were guided back to Earth safely. Air forces even managed a few daring and imaginative rescues with their heavily EM-shielded aircraft. But a few dozen …

Angie had landed dozens of them by hand herself, blowing out their jet engines with her super breath and gently lowering them to the ground. But she had just arrived back from space too late for all but the most intercontinental flights.

She'd also been around to flash-freeze a few massive tidal waves in their tracks with her super breath before they could crest over metropolitan areas. She had to go to her third exponential for that one. She'd despun a dozen hurricanes near the shorelines, but let the ones at sea drift. She'd have to step out all week and keep that up until the atmosphere dried out and cooled off on its own. There was no sane way to do it all at once without causing another ice age.

If she hadn't caused one already.

She wasn't worried. She had heat vision too, enough to dry out the whole Pacific if she needed to. She spent half the night mending hundreds of various emergencies, natural disasters and such, but decided that too much of that wasn't a good thing. Her kryptonian level of power alone might do more harm than good, let alone her exponential levels, if she tried to do too much to the environment, too fast.

She'd just have to take things slow over the next weeks, months, and such.

She'd extinguished thousands of fires where fire departments were disabled, their trucks electronics fried (or their firemen and women still writhing in ecstasy). She'd frozen floods, pushed ships and freighters out of collisions, even figured out how to re-absorb lingering static discharge off power stations to route power back to hospitals in dozens of cities.

Power started to be restored around four in the morning, Pacific Time.


Not so much.

Sex. Orgasm. What every culture in the world had spent so much energy into revering, sanctifying, begging for-had been fire-hosed down their spines with a jackhammer for at least an hour, and in some cases women caught in its shuddering clutches as long as ten solid hours.

She could see it now. The Pacific Rim would spiral into the "Great Debauchery", endlessly seeking another hit of the solid, pure 'gasm she'd pulsed out freely. A few would go stoic, either burned out or satisfied for life from that one massive hit. Very few.

The world would split. Shielded by the Earth's solid rock crust from the shock, the Atlantic side would never be able to understand. They housed the cores of the world's major religions anyway. That situation would only get worse. Much worse.

Back on the heathen side she'd just formed a new generation gap too. Prepubescent children would grow up having been spared "The Purple Awakening", their bodies unable to process it. They'd grow up in a changed, seemingly insane, sex-crazed world.

She'd just tripped off Armageddon in a dozen different ways and she knew it, religion notwithstanding.

They'd form dozens, no-hundreds of new religions and cults over this too. She could see THAT coming, if it wasn't already here.

She could dress up and make some kind of press announcement, explain what happened, help everybody just calm down and try to make some kind of sense of this. That was possibly the worst idea she'd ever had. She knew anything she said would be twisted a hundred different ways, to meet a thousand different agendas of a million little splinter groups. Even if she said nothing, it'd be twisted.

She knew people like that, people who lived in their own little world, painting their own glasses on the world. There's just no dealing with them rationally, or at all.

Best to lay low. Help out where she could. The more anybody knew about it the worse things would go.

So she waited patiently. Her roommate Jen and the two girls from across the hall simply writhed over poor Eric for twenty minutes, but the long and the short of it was that he was simply run dry from the pulse earlier, and even if he wasn't there was no way he could ever return any of them to the high they were all coming down off of. Not even the beer bottle seemed to do.

Perhaps reality would set in. Perhaps the mundaneness of it all would wash over memories, and everybody would just wake up and go on about their business in the morning.

Angie was ready to wake up too about now.

"Rest up, tiger. We'll see you over breakfast … say noon or so?" Jen collapsed through the door like so much closet laundry. "Oh gawd, Angie!" She swallowed hard and slicked back her long, straight red hair. "You missed one HELL of a party … are my stripes still showing?"

"No, looks like they rubbed off long ago." Angie put down the book she'd been contemplating over for the last hour-mostly for looks.

Jen chuckled to herself slyly, a slit gleam in her eye as she tied her blouse up again. "Oh if you only knew … they don't rub o-hey wait! Have you sitting been here the whole?"

"Well, I, um … drove-"

"Didn't you feel it?"

"The earthquake?"

Jen paused, puzzled for a moment. "Earth … qu-no naw, nuh uh … the THING, the um … oh god … GEEZ! EVERYBODY … oh gawd." She slumped to the floor in a corner. "Oh gawd."

"Some party?"

"Oh god! Like being on FIRE … HOURS!" Jen's eyes blinked slit and rolled back. "Everybody-out of the fucking SKY! – even here all the way back at the school-you must have!"

"Must have what?"

Jen's skin bled to black tiger stripes on orange peach fuzz as her claws dug into the carpet. Her eyes rolled, muscles filled out beneath loose skin just remembering – Jen roared like a tiger, like a cannon going off – loud enough to rattle the heavy furniture.

She shook off the daze. "Oops." She covered her mouth as her stripes faded. "Did I say that?"

Mel's voice came muffled through the door. "Hey, shut up in there you maniac!"

"Sorry." Jen squeaked.

"I think she's still a little drunk." Angie called back.

"Drunk?" Mel swung the door open. "After THAT? Bad kitty!"

Jen feigned a kitten innocent look. "Can you blame me?"

"She's not drunk, silly she-" Mel paused. "Wait, didn't you feel it?"

"Fell what?" Angie curled to the back of her bunk.

"You know …" Mel held out a blue flame, dancing in the palm of her hand. She gestured "But everywhere! … from the sky, but insides … mostly."

"She's being coy." Jen stalked over to Jen's bunk on all fours. "Mousy."

"Well, I've been sitting here, bottom floor, concrete building above-"

"Eric felt it too." Jen's eyes slit as she peered intently over Angie, her stripes returning, fangs dripping sharp. "He was in the laundry room-basement."

"Huh." Mel snapped out her handful of flame, grinning slyly. "Down kitty. Virgin girl doesn't wanna talk about it – yet."

"What the hell is going on?" Angie cried out.

"Ah, see?" Mel's eyes twinkled flame. "It DID hit her."

"No, I mean, you guys!" Angie shoved Jen off her bed as gently as she could. "Those aren't costumes! Geez! What's happened to you?"

Mel and Jen froze, looked at each other.

"What … this?" Jen unbuckled her emerald collar. "Costume." She shook out her hair and grinned guiltily.

"This too." Mel removed a sapphire ring and held it up. It flickered flame in the overcast light of the window.

"Damn." Angie nodded in awe. "That's insane."

"Told you Vaggy's the real thing." Jen buckled on her collar again and stood to flex. "Should come to the party next time." She morphed like water half way into a tiger as she stretched out across the floor, tail twitching.

"Bad kitty." Mel scolded. "Take it off. Party's over."

"No." Jen hissed gleaming fangs and claws-and snapped back to pout human. "I can control it."

"Well, just don't let-hey!" Mel turned back to Angie. "No changing the subject!"

"What subject?" Angie shrugged, looking away.

"Woo." Jen grinned fang to ear. "Mousie got it bad."

Mel sat down on Angie's bed. "Did you just sit in here alone when it hit?"

"Well, um … I was kinda …" Angie paused.

"Kinda what?"


"Wait-" Mel's expression darkened. "Where's the bombermobile?"

"Um …"

"You were driving when the thing hit?"

Angie nodded sheepishly.

"Oh gawd!" Mel threw up her arms in frustration.

Angie bit her lip.

"You're lucky to be alive, girl!" Mel paced about the room. "Do you know how many planes and cars and crap crashed during that? I mean like a whole city's worth of people got mashed up!"

"Yeah, um … I kinda wrecked the car." Angie held out the keys.

"Don't worry about it." Mel took the keys back. "Yesterday I would have cared."



"Did you pick up any hitchhikers?"

Mel and Angie both looked stupid at Jen. "What? Like Guide to the Galaxy?"

Jen's tail twitched slyly. "So she made it for the first time … in a car … but front seat, and no guy around …"


"You are so … hair brained sometimes, kitty." Mel just shook her head.

Jen puffed out her rather impressive rack and flexed her rippling muscles. "Not the brain that matters, poof girl."

"What's going on in here?" Liz leaned blearily in the door. "Western civilization collapsed overnight, some of us would like to sleep in."

"Angie made it home."

"Oh, hi, Angie. Good to see ya." Liz was a few pots of coffee shy.

"Drove home?"

"Nope." Mel tossed up the keys. "Wrecked the bombermobile, she was driving when it hit."

"How'd she get-wait a sec." Liz counted a bit on her fingers and the ears of her bunny slippers. "How long did you stay at Vaggy's? Go out or sumptin?"

"Yeah, dinner at McD's."

"Eat slow?" Liz mumbled.

"Wait-you tried something on at Vaggy's didn't you?" Jen pounced in Angie's lap from across the room, sniffing over her. "Whatcha got kiddo?"

"Nothing!" Angie tried to put Jen off, but Jen was all catted up and WAY stronger – even than she looked. "I left right after you guys."

"Vaggie's was asteroided right after we left." Jen's cat eyes focused and refocused uncomfortably close to Angie's nose. "Heard about it at the party." Her whiskers curled over Angie's cheeks. "But that doesn't mean anything. We know Vaggy better than that. Something happened, and you were the only one there."

"Oh come on, Angie." Mel snapped blue flame from her fingers. "We've shown you ours … your's must be really good …"

"Nothing!" Angie protested, now quite pinned down by Jen. "Honest! Get her off me!"

"How come you smell like that clover body gel you use … but then ozone, saltwater, jet fuel, kimshee, and if I'm not mistaken …" Jen paused to consider. "Burned oak paneling?"

Damn. She's good. No human could have picked all that up, and Angie was hoping bloodhounds wouldn't be quite so articulate. She'd showered twice since she'd been back – the first time in about seven seconds for dirt; the second for looks and feels of her new body for another seven minutes until the water pressure gave out.

"Spill, girrrlfriend." Jen growled. "I've ways of making you scream, but Liz here … she's got ways of making you talk."

"Come on!" Angie begged. "Let it alone! I don't want to talk about it!"

"Yeah, come on." Mel pulled on Jen's collar-like trying to pull a fire hydrant by the wrench, Jen was solid on Angie. "She'll tell when she's ready." A flaming finger to the ribs only got a snarling growl out of Jen but she held fast. "I'm out of here. You two kitties have fun. Liz and I are gonna sleep in."

"Wait for it …" Jen wove, mesmerizingly over Angie.

"Right after little miss cranium cracker here …" Mel stood back and nodded to Liz. "Pulls your little secret ou-"



"Holy – !"


"Get out." Angie stood in the doorway, her pillowcase over Liz's surprised head. Nobody quite knew how she blinked there, but Jen was tugging all four sets of her claws out of crumpled cinderblock wall across the room. Mel was staring down at a pair of eyes blazing a different, far hotter color than her own.

Thunder reverberated from down the hall.

"K." Mel inched around her out the door, spinning Liz around and shooing her out. "Party's over, we're gone … ?"

"What the fuck was THAT?" Jen was hissing mad off the wall.

"N-" Mel tried to hand-signal hush Jen, wincing through her teeth: "Singed oak panels, kitty! … We're gone!"

And they were.

"Still curious …" Angie closed the door and cocked her unsheathed pillow like a shotgun. " … Kitty?"

"Um …" Jen backed nervously into a corner. "Nah, that's alright … you just go on about … um … friends, right? Look, nuthin bad ever happened at those parties, all just fun and kick-ass games, right? Thought it'd be fun – "

"Vaggy's the real thing, eh?" Angie circled the room like a bullfighter. "Sure, it'll be fun!"

Jen backed out of her way.

"Woo." Angie heard Mel whispering to Liz across the hall. "Girlfriend mousy got the devil in her …"

"Do you have ANY idea …"


Angie threw the pillow so hard it embedded half way into cinderblock wall.

"Shit." Jen squeaked.

"WHAT kinda 'real thing' you're dealing with?"

And she vanished in a whirl of wind.

Liz hushed Mel in the darkening room, finger to her lips. She fumbled for a pencil and some paper and wrote out in a fearfully shaking scrawl.

Angie watched from atop a hotel ten miles away.

Liz scribbled in a panic. Angie watched Liz's eyes stare into space, and turn away from where Angie sat, purposely as she scribbled. "SHHHH! She can hear us!! she's only 10 miles away! Burn this paper!"

Angie watched as Mel read the scrawl, confused, but lit the paper in blue flame nonetheless.

Next page: "Get Jen! Burn this quick!"

Another handful of burning paper in hand, Angie watched Mel whisper out her door. "Jen, in here!"

The little tiger girl slunk nervously across the hall, looking about like prey, knowing that somehow she was being watched.

Next page: "Angie's the new girl, at the club!"

The other two looked at Liz, puzzled.

"Clocked Ultra Babe?"

They all froze as the paper crinkled to flame.

"The thing in the sky tonight?"

Darkness set on the city, still without power.

"She's got no limits! NONE!!! Be nice!"

Ultra Babe alighted on the precipice beside Angie. "Not enough trouble for one night, Galaxy Girl?"

"Telepath." Angie sighed in a slump.

"HOLY SHIT! Watching now!"

Angie blinked and turned away in a sigh as the last paper flashed up hurriedly in flame.

"No, I just figured you had to be local to the club, so I kept an eye out for ya."

"No." Angie shrugged. "Somebody else."

"Oh." Ultra Babe cinched up her catsuit. "Can we go squish 'em? So they can think-see us coming, doesn't mean they can stop-"

"No." Angie folded her arms over her knees and slunk in her sweats. "Friend of mine."

"Oh." Ultra Babe glanced about nervously. "So … you're um … free tonight? I was kinda hoping to start with an Earthrise over the moon, the new dust is kinda pretty …" She knelt over and shyly presented her cleavage. "Little … um … zapping, perhaps?"

"Tsk." Angie stretched out and stared back at the dorm. "Enough trouble of that last night. Just stick to the heroing. World to save and such, especially 'cause it was us that wrecked it."

"Aw." Ultra Babe fluttered about her like a humming bird in heat. "Just a little touch? Who's that gonna hurt?"

"Eastern civilization, perhaps."

And she vanished in a clap of shredded sweat suit.


Home Going


"That you, angel?" The old man paused at the door and listened.

Hearing things. "Hopscotch? You silly bun. You've got your hay toni-"

"Yeah, I'm here, daddy." It was almost a whisper, but he heard it.

"Thought I heard you there. Didn't hear you come home. Good to have you home though, what with things going crazy like-"

"I'm not decent, daddy."

His hand paused on the doorknob, then continued. "Who's your daddy? I've seen everyth-"

The sight of her in repose on her old bed froze his heart.

Hopscotch flopped over to him and hid behind his legs.

"Angel, I-"

"They're not implants, daddy. They're all me."

It was a moment before he could speak.

She could hear the defibrillator in his chest click off.

He jumped with the jolt, still speechless.

Hopscotch nosed him from behind.

"Well, angel … you didn't get those from your mother's side."

"I'm scared, daddy."

"I'll get the shotgun. What's his name?"

"I need a hug."

"Always, angel." He sat down on the bed and reached out to her.

She spread her arms for him but didn't hug him back.

His long arms could barely make it around her chest. His eyes widened at the marble-like hardness of her body.

"You'll always be my angel, no mater what's happened."

"I messed up tonight."

"Messed what up, angel?" He knelt back and stared at hopscotch on the floor. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, or acknowledge the erection she gave his aging body.

"Western civilization." She stared out through the window. "Pretty much all of it. Hopscotch won't even speak to me any more."

"Western civilization." He sighed. "Tell me what wasn't messed up about it to begin with." He picked the rabbit up off the floor and held him close. "Old Hopscotch here … seems to think you've outgrown him."

"Maybe I have."

"Is that such a bad thing, Angel?" He sighed. "If I didn't think you could handle a little Western Civilization, and handle it well – I would have bought you a Doberman."

She smiled warmly. "Thank you, Daddy."

"You were always headstrong, Angie. Hopscotch and I just want to make sure your heart stays tender, so you don't miss the best parts in life. The rest you can handle."

"Somehow I knew you'd say that."

"Wasn't the first time, huh."

"No, but I guess I needed to hear it again."

"You needed to hear?" He nodded in understanding. "If you can say that, then Hopscotch and I's job here is done."

"Thank you daddy."

"Now scoot, kiddo." He returned the old rabbit to the floor. "This Western Civilization thing seems a bit askew. I don't want to know details, but I'm guessing you and that new birthday suit of yours has something to do with fixing it as well."

"I love you daddy."

"I love you too, angel."

And she was gone.


Another Morning After


The usual Saturday morning cartoon crew was there, but outnumbered today on the old couches in the old dorm's chill cold rec room. The TV was fixed to a fuzzy local news channel and everybody there was fixed on it. Nobody noticed Angie half walk, half drift in from the back.


"Yes, Dianne." The reporter shouted over the helicopter's racket. "Paranormal happenings have been on the rise, some would say since the start of the nuclear, some say industrial age, but last night the world saw a quantum leap if you will, in the scale, the sheer magnitude-can you see this?" The camera panned out over the California coast line, it's usual lace ribbon of lazy surf superseded by a mountain range of ice, hundreds of feet high and stretching from horizon to horizon. "The scale is just mind-blowing Dianne, this is what the Moss Landing naval observatory says is a, get this, not just a tidal wave, but a super-tsunami that followed in the wake of last night's cataclysm. But as you can see, Dianne, it didn't hit! Something, or some one flash froze the whole thing in just the nick of time. Diane, I'm told this morning reports are coming in from all over the Pacific, this mountain range of ice practically circles the globe, Tokyo, Seattle, Los Angeles, every major population center has been spared this tidal wave!"


Liz shuddered a chill as Angie approached from behind. Angie had to blink in astonishment as Liz seemed to step out of herself, hop over the couch and approach in some kind of ghostly form, finger over her lips. Liz's voice whispered in Angie's head. "You don't have to speak. I can hear your thoughts. Are you ok? We've been worried."

"You're full of surprises." Angie shrugged to herself. "I wish you'd keep them to yourself."

"I'm not going to pry." Liz's essence seemed to circle the room in Angie's mind. "Just thought you might want to talk in private. I know you can nuke me with a thought, so I'll leave quick if you want me to."


"Thanks Bill." The signal did not improve much when they switched back to the local studio. "If you're just tuning in this morning, yes, we're still here, and we're working with local stations and over the internet to bring you the news as it comes in, but we've lost contact with all of our usual transponder satellites, so we've limited internet-only contact with MSN, CNN, and all national and international network resources, the internet itself has only been restored in limited capacity and experts say will be weeks before full services are restored. Tom?"


"I'm not a monster." Angie thought. "But you're no good with secrets."

"Sorry." Liz's shadow looked down. "I guess we're all new at this. Can you forgive me?"


"Yes, Dianne. The President this morning has declared a state of emergency in every state west of the Mississippi, where this … are we calling it a cataclysm? Flash pulse … mass orgasm? Can we say that on the air? Anyway, where the effects were felt hardest. That will free up FEMA and other federal resources to aid in recovery, but the affected area is so vast, experts say it will do little good and are calling on state and local agencies to take charge of recovery in their own districts. The President has also issued the release of all troops stationed in the Middle East to return home from the effected areas. With the demands on the Federal government stretched so thin, concerns are mounting for the state of the economy and the nation in the days following this."


"You all look like pros to me." Angie's eyes narrowed. "I'm still not sure how much is just 'costume'."

"I'm a real telepath. One of the better ones it seems." Liz shrugged. "The other two are just from trinkets."

"I take it back." Angie nodded. "You do keep secrets."

"Thousands." Liz chuckled ghostly. "I keep quiet for practical reasons. I'd bore people to death if I ever started blabbing all I know. Sue's brand of shampoo, the face of Tom's ex girlfriend he can't quite remember …" She nodded to the TV set. "How often Diane gets banged, by whom, and who's next." She stepped forward. "How long you've been dreaming of being the most powerful sex goddess in the universe, but too embarrassed to tell anybody, not even Hopscotch … most the secrets I know are useless crap like that."


"Thanks Tom. Greg is here in our studio with an expert in paranormal studies from Berkley. Greg?"

"Yes, Dianne. I'm here with Dr. Sostkovich from the Department of Paranormal Studies at Berkley. Doctor, what happened last night?"


"The party was your idea, wasn't it." Angie drifted over to sit on the outside arm of the back row of couches.

"Starting it, or inviting you?" Liz shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Pretty much yes. Seemed to be the thing you needed."

"You told Vaggy about my dreams."

"Didn't have to." Liz turned away. "He's my brother. He's psycho – psychic … psychic! Yeah. Psychic."


"Obviously something cosmic, Greg." The doctor crossed his legs. "At the institute we've observed that most of the paranormal population on Earth are what we call 'street level', all very impressive individuals by human standards. These individuals run the breadth of all the paranormal abilities we've seen, everything from unusual gifts of dexterity or strength, pyrogenisis, any number of telekinetic powers, human calculators to torches and such. But these individuals typically can't affect much past the end of the block. Now as they are gifted beyond us humans, there is a subset of paranormals that are gifted as far beyond them as they are beyond human. We call this group the 'ultras'. Here we have the few Kryptonians we've seen, some leftover demigods, a few extradimensionals and such. These are typically the individuals that have a few powers at with tremendous depth. They are completely overwhelming to the street level population, and simply incomprehensible to mortal humans like you and I. Last night I think we've seen our first glimpse of what I'm dubbing the 'cosmic' level, a whole order of magnitude, possibly more but we don't have the ability to measure it yet, even above the ultras."


"Oh frak." Angie blinked. "So he really IS legit?"

"Kept trying to tell you." Liz shook her head. "He once mettled where he shouldn't have, wanted more power and wound up cursed. He has true, unlimited god-like power, but he can't use it himself. He can only give it away."


Greg spoke from off camera. "Do you see this upward trend continuing? Are we in any danger? Is there anything that can be done about it?"

"There's no way to tell other than to wait and see, Greg. As far as danger is concerned, pray, I suppose. It is difficult to judge this soon. While this first glimpse we've seen was a raw outpouring of what felt like pure love and ecstasy, we haven't yet come to grips with the extensive damage it has caused to our little planet. It's too early to say if that was a greeting or a weapon. Our best hope is that the one or more beings that exist at this level have our best interests in mind, or at least that the balance of sentiment among them is in our favor. While police and sometimes military action has proven effective against malevolent street-level paranormals, we lack much of an ability, not even nukes, to affect the ultra class of individual and have been at the mercy of the few benefactors we have among their population. This new cosmic class is simply once again removed beyond our abilities, and likely beyond the abilities of anybody or any being we yet know of."


"That thing last night writing notes was just an act, wasn't it." Angie stared through the TV. "It kept bothering me, if you're such a telepath, why'd you need the paper?"

"Yes." Liz sighed. "You're quite the theatre critic."

"Is this an act too?" Angie looked between Liz's real and speaking bodies. "You've got something up your sleeve, or some leash on me. I couldn't kill you if I tried I bet. You're just flattering me." "Hardly, but please, don't try it." Liz seemed … detached. "I'm just a simple telepath and that over there is my real body. And no, Vaggy never gave me anything. He offered, but after seeing what it did to him, I didn't want any more."

"Ultra Babe one of his?" Angie asked. "She seems his type."

"No." Liz glanced about nervously. "There are other powers around than just him. She's a castoff from a weapons experiment back on true Krypton. That's why she's so much stronger than the rest of them … so much hornier too."


"Thank you Doctor." Greg concluded. "Dianne, we've also attempted to contact various departments of Physics for commentary, but so far no word."

Dr. Sostkovich's microphone was still on. "Tsk. Might as well be asking them about religion."


"Anything else I don't know?" Angie asked, suspiciously.

"Like your mind is as super powered as your body now?" Liz offered.

"Yeah, the whole super speed photographic memory thing." Angie shrugged. "Figured that out already."

"No … SUPER powered." Liz chuckled. "That cosmic-scaled orgasm you projected last night for example. Rudimentary, but that's the kind of raw power you've got – and can project if you'd bother to learn how. You really needn't fear me. I know way more tricks, but I'm nothing to the kind of power you've got."

"Show me …" Angie caught herself. "Wait-why are you telling me this?"

Liz nodded to the television. "Saving the world. We can't take another one of your random outbursts. I'd like to keep on living too."


"Thank you Greg." Dianne cut in. "We'll continue broadcasting commercial free all morning as the aftermath of the events last night continue to unfold. We at this station would like to extend an invitation to whatever being or beings were involved in causing last night. We are a fair and balanced news organization and would like to hear your side of the story, respectfully, of course. Now let's briefly check in with the weather and traffic before going to more of our reporters in the field, Marty?"


"It wasn't random." Angie sighed. "I was trying to tweak Ultra Babe good again. I'm trying to be a good girl."

"You were trying to show off." Liz scolded brazenly.

Angie paused between thoughts of murder and …"I suppose. I guess I got a little carried away."

"Vag calls that 'feed-forward'." Liz phased over beside her. "Power just gets you high, makes you want more. Few can control it, certainly he couldn't. You obviously couldn't at the moment, but I've seen you learning since then. Don't believe a peep of all that 'discretion' crap he gave you last night. He just wanted somebody he didn't have to train for once-and you've been practicing being super in your head for years."


"Thank you Dianne." Marty sat surrounded by an array of computers, frantically typing. "Normally we'd have this green-screened for you, but the cataclysm took out twenty NOAA satellites, we're doing the best we can with the four remaining birds in combination with military weather satellite data the Pentagon has declassified just declassified to aid in our recovery. We've been knocked back 30 years in our ability to track microclimates and the effects and activities of weather paranormals, but we can show you the 'now' picture." A black and white globe shot appeared on the screen, mostly swirling in angry hurricanes. "It ain't pretty. We've run out of Greek alphabet overnight. We've seventeen category 5 hurricanes mixing it up offshore in the Pacific right now, so dense that their vortexes are interfering with each other and shedding dozens and dozens of category 4 and smaller hurricanes between them. We've got another seven category 5 hurricanes spinning up in the Atlantic, and four in the Indian ocean and their smaller friends just to balance out the atmospheric torque the Pacific is putting out right now. We've also been hearing reports that the Earth's magnetic field is starting to wobble from the strain of so much electrical activity in the upper atmosphere, so don't trust your local compass for a while. Thank goodness GPS is a hardened, military system, eh? The good news is those coastal walls of ice that also appeared overnight. They're effectively draining the heat energy from storms that approach them and are the best weather barrier we've ever seen used. We're all waiting to see which melts first: the hurricanes or the ice walls protecting major cities. Unfortunately, if you're living in one of these cities you can expect very high humidity and very low temperatures. It's going to be cold and wet out there, possibly for weeks. Nothing new, eh San Francisco?"


"I don't want to hurt anybody else." Angie sighed softly.

"You mean kill, don't you." Liz laid it out. "We do appreciate your restraint, honestly – the more the better. Vag may have been fibbing up his sleeve about that, but I'm not. He's practically immortal. It's the rest of us you scare."

"I think I'm going to hate telepaths." Angie's eyes flared red.

"We just take some getting used to." Liz stepped back. "You'll have to get used to it, you're probably the most powerful telepath on the planet right now. And after last night we all know you're here."


"Thank you Marty." Diane turned to camera 2. "We're hearing local reports that gas prices have just passed the $30/gallon mark and are still climbing, for the market watch we turn to Doug, who's been watching developments on the Internet trading services. Doug?"

"Thanks, Dianne." Doug turned his laptop around on the desk to show charts. "We

still don't have much of a live feed from the market floor in New York, but it's apparent

from the pricing indicators that investors are spooked world wide. Fortunately this hit on

a weekend, but some internet trading is still showing a distrust in overseas shipping, and

a general collapse in the production value of the entire Pacific Rim for months to

come. We're expecting a mass capitol migration to Atlantic and Indian-Ocean located

industries come market's opening bell on Monday. Many sectors may simply

collapse. Agriculture will be hardest hit as we see what this latest global weather event

does to farming everywhere. Expect another three month run of inflation in all sectors

until global infrastructure is rebuilt. We're hoping for new opportunities in the wake of

this as well, but don't hold your breath for a few days. Monday we'll see the REAL

impact of all this."


"I'd rather just be a simple super, super girl." Angie flexed her pecs. Any kind of bra she could have been wearing would have just snapped like an old rubber band.


"Thanks for the uplifting report, Doug." Diane cut back to camera 1. "Now to our

downtown desk, for the local report. Sue?"


"Or normal again." Angie relaxed. "Life was hard, but a lot simpler yesterday."

"Not even Vaggy can change you back." Liz turned to the TV. "Unlimited power,

but he can only give it away – never take it back. Besides, the world needs you right

now. Not just your powers flying about helping, but you at the helm. Nobody else has

the kind of heart you have to offer the whole Galaxy Girl job. Its what got you through

the interview."


"Thanks, Dianne. We're gathering reports around the city of acts of heroism and mercy around the city throughout the night. Heroes from all walks of life arose to the occasion as everything electrical in the city gave out. From airliners plucked safely from the sky to averted train wrecks, to the heroic effort made by power companies to restore services to hospitals, to the general lack of looting that usually accompanies cataclysms of this nature in the city, everyone has done their part in this. While the enormous contributions of Superman, Captain Marvel, and the other Krpytonian-level heroes we all knew was sorely missed, two surprise entries into the effort were seen tonight. Ultra Babe was spotted once again on the side of good, snuffing out fires and rescuing citizens last night. We've also this clip from a local photographer of a mysterious woman alighting on the south tower of the Golden Gate, can we get that on?"


"The world's a few super heroes short at the top right now." Liz nodded to the TV.


The television switched to a jittery 8-mm shot of the mountain of water approaching the city, when a spec slid across the frame and froze the wave to solid ice like drawing a curtain behind the skyline.

"Local photographer Gus Williams took the footage. Mr. Williams, your thoughts?"


"Dangit!" Angie blinked in time to avoid scorching the TV into the next county with her heat vision. "I thought people weren't supposed to be able to see you when you're moving at super speed!"

"Relax." Liz chuckled. "You're better at this than you think … give him a second to incriminate himself."


"Well I was still kinda loopy from that … um … thing last night, we'd parked at the North vista point, overlooking the city. She was still totally into it, going nuts, I saw that everybody around was getting all into it, and got a little scared. The car wouldn't start, but I had this old 8-mm we'd brought and I set it on the dashboard, to record, you know, the end of the world if it was gonna happen. Pointed it at the city and got … that shot."

"What happened next?" The reporter prodded.

"Well, she landed for a sec on that tower over there, just to pose, or sumptin, and disappeared. You can see her standing in one frame, but that spec is gone the next frame. Was dark and pretty far away, but kinda looked like Ultra Babe, but I don't think so."


"Well … not by much." Angie scowled.

"You're two pixels of film and the post-orgy of a date rape drug pusher." Liz reassured. "They've got nothing, and if they push that witness he'll collapse into a byline."


"There you have it Dianne, exclusive news footage from last night, whoever froze the tidal waves wasn't a group, or a machine, but one woman, possibly Ultra Babe."


"They're gonna think I'm Ultra Babe." Angie sighed.

"You want to show off again, don't you." Liz grinned.

"Well no-I mean … .damn you telepaths." Angie's eyes narrowed. "When are you gonna teach me some kind of mind shielding?"

"Mind shielding? Who gave you that idea?" Liz shook her head. "You're already starting to read mine. I'll show you how to put up barriers within your own mind soon, when I feel safe around you. It's very tricky business, basically giving yourself multiple personality disorder. Many wind up hospitalized trying to set that up." Liz blinked. "Just know for now that showing off's ok, even expected … just realize when you're doing it. Always keep control of your public image."

"What am I?" Angie chuckled. "A politician?"

"Close." Liz answered. "You'll need to move as much public opinion as mountains on this job-and the mountains are easier."


"Thank you Sue. And what's happening in the city now?"

"Well, traffic and bus service hasn't been restored yet, but some stores are open. People are staying close to home, televisions, radio, friends, and family today. There's been minimal reports of looting or other rioting so far. Perhaps love is the answer after all, Diane."


"I'm not your first student, am I, and not Vaggy's first endowment either." Angie sighed.

"Damn you telepaths." Liz teased. "No. Supergirl's not really from Krypton."

"What?" Angie looked confused. "Oh come on, of all of them, nobody's ever questioned-and she hardly shows up to the party, keeps so much to herself that you'd think-"

"She's alive, isn't she?" Liz grinned. "And how many parties do you think she really shows up for … but doesn't let anybody remember? She knows her limits. Ultra Babe is beyond them. Vag made you to fix that problem, he made you to end the arms race, really."

"Arms race?"

"Yes." Liz sighed. "It's a silly, childish thing really, between Vaggy and the ancients, Velsomethingorothers, I forget. Making the most powerful, sexiest super heroine. Vag finally broke through the fourth exponential barrier with you, making your abilities essentially infinite. Mostly for bragging rights, as far as I can figure from him."


"Thank you Sue." Dianne put on her best train wreck smile. "Pat Robertson has issued a statement saying …" She squinted at the cue as an unkempt file photo of Pat on a bad day hopped up in the corner of the screen. "'It wasn't the Rapture because I and all of my born again friends are all still here. It was more likely one of the signs in the heavens the Bible tells us to expect in these End Times. It could also be part of the lightshow the Bible tells us to expect from the Antichrist as he rises to power.' For more on the faith front we now turn to Reverend-"


The TV suddenly switched over to a Spanish soap opera.

"Hey! Switch it back!" They all turned to Greg who'd wandered in and usurped the remote.

"Just wait …" Greg's evil grin paused them all. "Heard about this on the radio …"

They turned back to the TV. Two sentences later the senorita paused, ripped off her blouse and jumped on her supporting actor like an animal.


Greg giggled. "Local Spanish station programmer has flipped out. He's locked himself in the control room and been broadcasting hardcore porn since last night."

"How long can he get away with that?"

"I went for three solid hours last night." Sue kicked her long legs in the air from the front couch, purring.

"Five." Jen shinged out her claws from the couch behind and counted them down. "Five, four, three, two … one."

"Woo. Baaaad kitty." Greg cooed.

"Seven." Liz snickered.

"DAEWM!" Mel popped up.

Liz tapped her head. "I guess I just tune that stuff in better."

"Wait, you were just sitting there, you looked fine!"

"Focused." Liz's eyes narrowed. "Learned a new trick … wanna see?"

"Kinky." Greg closed in.

Liz snapped her fingers at Sue.

"Ohgawh-" Sue's legs twitched straight up as she cupped herself hard through her sweat shirt, spine arching. "Fuck!" She rolled off the couch and frantically started doing herself on the cold linoleum floor while they all looked on.

"Nice, girls." Greg giggled. "But I know that hypnosis stuff is all show. Don't stop, but comeawn, expect me to be – "

"Ha!" Liz flipped over and snapped at Greg so hard she knocked him on his ass.

"FUCK!" Greg struggled with his belt buckle to get to his already raw erection. "Ohmy-" His jeans were well stained by the time he dropped them. His whole body twitched in convulsions as his fingers fumbled with himself in front of everyone. "Afterssshh"

"Believe THAT." Liz folded her arms for effect.

Mel struck an evil look as she jumped off the couch, grabbed Greg by the ankle, and started dragging him on his butt over to where Sue twitched. "This oughta be good …"

"Hey, hey now!" Sue sat up, panting. "Don't know what that was, but it was no last night, Liz." She crawled back on the couch, one hand absently up her blouse, caressing herself.

"Awesome!" Jen pounced on the couch next to Liz, snuggling up to her. "Do me! Do me next! Right here, right now! I need another zapping! Comawn! Pppppleeeease?"

Liz rolled her eyes. "Heel!"


"Last night was more like …" Sue flung off her T-shirt and rolled off on the couch onto Greg. "This."

"Oh my." Mel stood back and watched with some interest as Sue writhed over Greg's gasping body like a snail, somehow exiting her jeans without using her hands.

"Damn!" Kevin and the rest of the dormies peeked over the arms and backs of couches for a look at the spectacle. By now Sue was riding Greg like a super bike in a slalom and Greg was gasping and grunting like a Harley between her legs.

Somebody started chanting. "Go! Go! Go!" The crowd joined in, but Sue's teeth-clenched rhythm was twice their pace. She seemed to be trying to suck the life out of him, her body shaking and straining, dripping with sweat.

Angie was about to step in to try and pry them apart, but the chanting had faded. The small crowd had paired off on and between couches. Clothes flew over cushions like the dash to a swimming hole on a hot day.

"Hey!" Angie thought hard toward Liz. "This is crazy! You've gotta stop th-"

Liz seemed a bit preoccupied sucking Kevin's lips off his face and drawing his hand up her blouse as he lowered onto her.

'Oh-" Sue's expression turned bloodthirsty as she sat up over Greg and shoved him back to the floor. "Nice try, Greggy – but ain't doin it."

Greg sat up on his elbows, sweaty and confused.

"Next?" Sue stood up just as Eric rounded the corner up from the basement with his laundry. Sue actually cart wheeled nearly naked straight at him.

Eric's laundry hit the floor the moment before Sue pulled him down on her by the collar.

"People!" Angie whimpered in what came out more a shout. "Please!"

The orgy paused.

They all looked up.

"Dibs! New girl!" Greg sat up, wide eyed. "And Daewm! Stacked!"

"Next!" Kevin chirped before Kathy pulled him down again.

"Oh yeah babe!" Gregory slid on his knees across and under her, arms wide open. The wild look on his face brightened to maniacal thirsting for a head-on collision with her seemingly truck-sized breasts.

"Heel, boy." Angie swing her chest to the side and caught him at arm's length by the forehead.

"Oh yeah." Greg took a grip of her arm. "Let's wrestle, princess-"

One tug later and his expression popped. For the twig she was to him he might as well have tugged on a redwood. He couldn't budge her.

"Greg, it's me-" Angie knelt down face to face. "Angie."

"Angie?" Greg shrugged, and tugged again to no avail.

Slowly his eyes opened. Mel and Jen rose over the backs of couches like ghosts at her name, looking to each other, frightened.

"Angie?" Greg looked her over. "You've SERIOUSLY been working out and – -"

"Yeah." Angie sighed, bored already with the joke. "They're fake."

"Damn!" Greg drooled at the thought. "That is sooooo HOT!" He started to paw for her sweat shirt like a teased kitten. "Comeawn, let's break them in!"

"Greg!" Angie brought up a leg and pinned him back with her toes. "What has gotten into you people?"

"Holy crap!" Greg's hands shakily caressed the racetrack of curves up Angie's leg. "Nerd girl's got LEGS!" She wished she hadn't worn that skirt today. Normally it kept her legs tastefully tucked away, but when she needed to use them …

"So next!" Kevin squeezed out around a kiss.

"People, please!" Her barefoot stomp cracked the concrete floor through the linoleum and almost cracked Greg's ribs. "Stop it!"

"Oh gawd, Angie!" Sue had Eric by the scruff of his neck as he lapped over her breasts like a dog on ice cream. "Come on! Join in! If we could just get back to last n-"

"Sue!" Angie kicked Greg skidding across the cold linoleum like a towel. "Sue, you're a cheerleader!"

"Oh hell yes." Sue raised her arms to dance. "Go! Go! Go!"

"Sue!" Angie cried out. "You don't even know his name!"

"Eric." He panted as he pumped her, eyes rolled back in his head.

"Go Eric! Go Eric! Go-"

"Stop it!" Angie looked around the room. "Timmy, get off her! What would your girlfriend think? Kevin! You're going to hurt Liz, she's not a linebacker! Mel! Geez, put some clothes on! Jen! Gawd! You bit his ear off! Tom? Didn't that hurt? Do you need some help? Medical attention perhaps? Am I shouting to the TV here? Hello!?!"

"Hey!" Liz winced, barely able to handle Kevin's huge "Get naked or get lost! Getting some here!"

"Liz?" Angie stammered flabbergasted. Angie stomped over to where Liz had tossed her jacket, pulled out Liz's lighter, jumped up on the back of a couch and lit up defiantly at the nose of a smoke detector.

The alarm grated, flashed, and kicked open the sprinklers building-wide.

They call them fire sprinklers, but 'sprinkle' ain't exactly what they do. The last dorm had burned to the ground a decade ago and the school had rebuilt it with an angry determination against such residential tomfoolery. The old dorm came equipped with three-inch pipes all-around.

Seemed like all of Iceland fell in on them and kept pouring stinging cold while the alarms screeched. The water was rusty and warm at first, but quickly cleared to cold.


The room was ankle-deep in muck before any of them could stand up.

"What the hell?"

They all filed out the side door to the patio like a muddy stampede.

"Gawd, what a priss!"

They all huddled in each other's arms, shivering and naked.

"We're just starting to get into it too!"

Rubbernecker's coagulated at the overlooking windows of the neighboring building.

"That was so fucking rude!"

"People!" Angie stammered. "Snap out of it!"

"What's it matter so much to you? Last night pretty much we all saw everybody's everything anyway."

"So you're all nudists now?" Angie wrung her fingers through her sopping hair.

"Yeah?" Kevin stood up to her, his erection stood as long as her arm, despite the chill air. "Last night was kick ass. We're just getting back there-"

"With that?" Angie scoffed. "Kevin, you're big for a human, but last night was paranormal. You've all got no hope!"

"Hey!" Kevin stood proudly square and erect, hands on his hips. "That's not what she said!"

"Who?" Angie chuckled. "Your mother?"

Kevin drew back a backhand-and got tackled into the shrubbery by Jen hissing in full tigress form. "Trust me, linebacker." Her sandy tongue raked over his razor burn as she shifted back to her naked human form. "She's being a priss right now, but trust me – you'd rather do me than her."

"Ow! Bad kitty?" Kevin's eyes popped open. "Damn girl!" He embraced her from below and began to take her up on the offer, right there in the shrubbery.

Angie's own crotch was beginning to itch with hunger. She had half a mind of tearing Jen of Kevin and finishing the job herself-on both of them. She'd gotten all carried away and nuts last night, but perhaps she could handle it if she didn't engorge herself with all that-


Green Rocket


What the?

Angie's muscles began to tighten and expand at the though of –

No! Not now! She took a deep breath of icy air and held it.

No good. Holding her breath had no effect on her mood, or anything else. She could probably hold her breath for a week or more if she had to. Her sweatshirt went taught around her arms and chest as her body rose to the occasion, even without any magic words.


Get a grip, girl!

She dropped to her knees, her muscles flexing to contain the growing lightning storm in her crotch.

"You ok, Angie?" Mel stepped over.

Angie exhaled slowly.

Thunder Twin Powers Deactivate!!!

Still growing. No effect!

Oh shit!

Angie popped out of existence.

"Huh." Mel shrugged. "She'll be back. Where were we?"

Angie's world slowed to a stop. She had to get out of there before something really bad happened. She ran back through the rec room, tunneling through the heavy droplets of water in the air, soaking her tearing sweats as she ran.

She could feel the muscles in her legs expanding, hardening as she ran.

The front door of the dorm skipped like a stone across the front lawn at her slightest touch. She caught her expanding breast on the doorframe on the way out and took a chunk of the steel and brick doorframe with her like a wrecking ball as she ran out. It felt like slipping through satin.

Stupid! What'd I do that for? I can fly!"

The sidewalk splintered beneath her toes as she leapt into the air.

"Whoah-" She was a mile straight up before she regained her balance and caught herself with her flying powers.

Ok, just relax …

She hung in the air as her body seemed to peak out.


She flexed her bucket-sized bicepts in amazement.

Not as insane as last night but still, for regular me-holy crap!

Her crotch felt like Chernobyl. It was all she could do flexing to hold it together down there. Her breasts obscured her view of the city below, heavy like lead, yet taught as steel –


Her skin had turned a pale green and was darkening as her veins crept across it all over her body.

"DAMN girl!" Ultra Babe drifted into view. "Gamma powers too!?!"

Angie shot her a sarcastic scowl.

"Shit!" Ultra Babe waved herself off. "I mean-that's awesome and all, nothing wrong with –"

Angie's tongue dove through Ultra Babe's lips like molten steel through water. She could feel Ultra Babe flexing out, hulking out herself as her fingers griped Angie's breasts harder and harder.

Ultra Babe kicked off almost too fast for Angie to catch her foot in the grasp of her monstrous cleavage. "Go time!" Ultra Babe's massive body twisted around as she brought her fist with all her trans-kryptonian strength through an underhanded uppercut-straight up Angie's crotch.


Angie bit her lip as Ultra Girl's cold, hard fist sunk in past her tree-sized elbow in Angie's warm, moist, crushing, sparking-

Ultra Babe licked her lips, her eyes blazing with excitement at the writhing mass of muscle that was Angie's crotch. "Go girl!" Ultra Babe clenched her fist and shook as hard and as fast as she could.

Ultra Babe was perfectly capable of instantly shaking a main battle tank into postage-stamp-sized pieces without even trying.

Galaxy Girl went critical faster than Chernobyl. It was all she could do to roll over and face the sky, dragging Ultra Babe around like a kayak paddler from white water. First shock energy ricocheted through her body in hundreds of tiny, blazing waves. A second shock of curling energy and raw, warm, pleasure smoldered through her body in its wake.

Galaxy Girl closed her green legs around Ultra Babe's arm like the dented steel walls of a car crusher. Ultra Babe flexed, contorted, and struggled to stretch her legs around Galaxy girl's breasts and plunge one of Galaxy Girl's cannon-sized nipples up her own crotch.

For a seeming eternity of moments later the two of them drifted into space, a comet's blur of hyper speed writhing and pumping each other, flaring from white hot to crystalline cold between pulses of heat vision and ice breath, shedding solar-flare-sized machetes of raw energy curling off into deep space.

Hours, perhaps days, even months later, Angie's body faded from green, satiated. She shuddered as Ultra Babe slid off Angie's receding bust and slid her fist out of Angie's still crushing crotch.

"OH GODDESS YES!" Ultra Babe squealed.

"That was insane … again." Angie stretched her form out slender like a cat. "Are you ok?"

"Shit YES!" Ultra Babe arched her back, popping it out. "I'm almost a second Kryptonian exponential myself ya'know! If you just hulk out like that and stay first order, we come out about even."


"Duh!" Ultra Babe flexed her massive assortment of equally massive muscles. "Hello! I FUCKED Superman to death! Totally CRUSHED him inside me! Never even used my hands! Ever think about that?"

"Tried not to."

"Girlfriend, you are AWESOME!" Ultra Babe cupped herself, licking her lips. "I LOVE having you around! I've been wanting so bad to fucking cut completely loose with somebody without smearing them across three counties."

Angie shook out her matted hair. "I seem to have needed that too."

"Goddess! Any fucking time!" Ultra Babe looked around, puzzled. "Um … where are we? I've never been this far out before."

Angie's heart stopped. She looked around in a panic.

Deep space.

The Milky Way wrapped around them over their shoulder, but it all looked the same. Angie squinted at star after star, but none of the planets she could see looked anything like Earth.

"Fuck." Angie's eyes skittered over the sky like a sewing machine. "I have no idea."

"That's ok." Ultra Babe shrugged. "Just as long as we're together, I don't care where."

"No … wait … quiet!" Angie tried to listen with her mind-past her racing heartbeat, past the sweat still offgassing from both of them into space, past the silent dust and nothing of the vast expanse of empty space where they floated between the stars … to the twinkling of stars and worlds, the faint whisper of conscious thought …


"Woo." Ultra Babe seemed to cock her breasts like shotguns. "Round two?"

"Shhh!" Galaxy Girl pushed her off.


Further out into space, she could hear the colors of worlds. Civilizations started to twinkle in her mind's eye, but still nothing familiar to her heart.


Her mind embraced half the galaxy, sifting through its stars like fur waiting for it to shed just the right hair of-


Faster, she needed to comb faster-


"There!" The word exploded into space around her, knocking Ultra Babe spinning for a parsec.

Ultra Babe awoke slung buy the armpits in Galaxy Girl's massive arms. "Ohhm. Ouch. Don't do that again, K?"

"Sorry, had to find Earth again, got antsy."

The sky had red and blue shifted, and was tearing apart in reverb they were moving so fast.

"Damn you can move!" Ultra Girl marveled at the lightshow screaming by her as they cut through open space like a bullet through paper. "Where we going?"

"About forty star systems this way, through that nebula ahead, then another ten straight on. Fifteen hundred light years, give or take."

"Oh gawd. Don't bother. It'll be crisped before we get back, way things were going."

"I can slipstream time at this power level. You're tougher than I first figured so I'm dragging you back too." Galaxy Girl winked. "We'll be there in an hour."

"Damn. How long were we at it out here?"

"About a month I figure."


"No regrets. Just hope I can retake my midterms."

"What do you need with school? I mean come on! Want fried with that or something? Even to me, you're a fucking GODDESS!"

Angie didn't answer. She just flew on through the depths of space.


"Highcouncil." The uniformed officer addressed his commander on the flickering bridge of a city-sized space battleship. "We've triangulated the origin of the cosmic shockwave and are now tracking a trans-continuum-level being moving at slipstream velocities away from the area."

"Set an intercept course. Set orders to the Second Fleet to follow. Inform Empire we've found her."

"Aye ma'am."


Calvin Ball


"Fetch your brother."

"H-" Liz nearly jumped out of her skin. The tiny painted cinderblock dorm room was nearly a jail cell in size, room for two each: bed, nightstand, and desk-all vintage WWII surplus. It was her studying hour, and Liz had locked the door, but left the window open lest the laundry grow ripe. It was bad enough for Liz hearing the low murmur of the thoughts of everyone in the building and its surrounds, let alone the city, but shutting out their shouts and stereos for a few hours gave some solace.

Not that she needed to study. The professors always knew the answers to all the exam questions, and practically wore them on their foreheads for a telepath like her to read from across the room. It was the hours of quiet that she savored.

"Shit!" Liz peeled herself out of the instantly disheveled bed. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry." Angie perched like a parrot in the corner, elbows folded over knees, balancing on her toes gargoyle-style on the tiny bit of uncluttered space on the nightstand, her dark hair streamed like a curtain over her whole body. "I thought you would know I was coming."

"The way you move?" Liz closed the book she was pretending to read. "I'm a telepath, not a psychic."

Angie cracked a sly smile. "Oh."

"And that's a really bad idea." Liz scolded. "He wouldn't do it anyway."


Liz slipped a sly smile this time. "Telepath." She tapped her head. "Ultra Babe's starting to creep you out. You're going to ask Vaggy to bring Superman back … for her … of course."

"Am I that obvious?"

"You read like a mirror." Liz winked.


"You'll figure that one out someday. And you know perfectly well where and when to find Vaggy."

Angie's eyes popped open in realization. "Ladies' night."

"Hey! Watch it!" Liz jumped up and padded out the flash-burned poster with her pillow, once of Tool, now ash black paper. "Damnit! You're worse than Xi sometimes!"

"Sorry." Angie blinked cold. "Who?"

"Never you mind about her." Liz turned to her in anger. "You're disturbing my Karma."

Angie looked blankly.

"Shoo!" Liz shouted the command with enough psychic force that the cinderblock walls around Angie seemed to ripple around her at its impact.

Angie shrugged. "Ok, ok … I was just-" and vanished in a pop.

Liz plopped down on her bed, the smell of burnt poster saturating the air. She flopped the pillow over her face and sighed.

She could hear doors all down the hall opening in a panic, her neighbors tripping over themselves fumbling with the outside doors, most of them mostly dressed.

Eric thrashed about in the bushes, having jumped out the window for reasons he didn't remember.

The abandoned naval base at the Alemeda was a real estate anomaly-a vast expanse of vintage WWII warehouses, train yards, docks, and heaps and heaps of concrete nothing. It was an island of post-apocalyptic barrenness dead center of the San Francisco Bay Area. Cities whose real estate prices nearly rivaled Tokyo for mindless insanity spread out a short rowboat's tow from the Alemeda. It had the best view of the entire area shy of Alcatraz itself, yet lay barren, devoid of the cancerous apartments and skyrises that encrusted the hills in all directions. The Matrix had filmed car chases there. Various counterculture gatherings came and went, yet the Alemeda remained untouched, a seeming nature preserve to the aging nature of WWII industrialism, now ghostly generations ago.

But every Thursday and Saturday night-

Trucked-in bleachers crawled with locals like maggots on meat, their backs to the glistening night skylines all around. The usual vendors picked over the crowd: hot dogs, popcorn, glow sticks, soda, beer, peanuts, earplugs, souvenir safety goggles … The tailgate BBQ's were just wrapping up as a pair of refurbished street sweepers circled the makeshift cyclone fence and glass paneled arena. Hundreds of gas generators growled all around for the TV vans and the lights, but most the noise came from tonight's local grunge revival band working the pre-game show. The night was overcast, as Bay Area nights are liable to be. The low fog hung with the makeshift stadium's lights like a drifting roof.


The light's dimmed.

"Ladies and gentlemeeeeeeeen!" The announcer sung out over the tinny loudspeakers. "A moment of silence if you would for those lost in last month's Great Tweak."

The house lights dimmed.

Most the crowd had paired off in the dark when they came back a moment later.

"And now, let's bring on tonight's five teams …"

Angie hovered in the fog over the arena, hesitant. She watched the teams of aliens, mutants, freaks, and gun-toting geeks pour into the arena, posturing at each other as they circled like a flushing toilet. She'd seen him in the dignitary's skybox, perched on the roof of a nearby warehouse. It was a packed house tonight, and his skybox was no exception. She was underdressed for the occasion. It was formal wear only for twenty feet all around him.

She watched him raise a glass as the cameras panned over tonight's visiting celebrities. He scoffed as the ringmaster introduced the player's club to tonights players. "Basketball legend Colby Bryant, Comedian Jay Lenno, President Clinton, Urg of the Cyberian Council, Actor Jack Nicolas, and designer VE, generously donating uniforms to red team tonight, ladies and gentleman …"

Red team took a turn on the catwalk.

"Let's get ready to … rumblllllllle!"

Wasn't that copyrighted years ago? Not like the WWF (World Wildlife Fund … fits, don't it? I don't see what the problem was.) or its ilk were still soluble. They'd faded from the ratings as more and more paranormals sought to enter such 'sports'. The scandal over the Inflatable Bulk's powers had finally brought them all down in a twitching fit of flaming lawsuits.

She wasn't the only one hovering in the weather. Those who could fly frequented the airspace over the games since the beginning. The organizers weren't the type to try collecting admission from beings that could fly like that: greedy – but not stupid.

Somebody fired a revolver. It wasn't a robbery. It was the starting signal.

"Ladies Night" wasn't about gate admissions. Thursdays were all female combatant nights. Angie watched, curious, as she'd never actually gone to one of these before. Scantly clad but highly decorated women of all shapes and sizes made up four of the five teams of five.

The fifth team was all men-the winners of last week's Saturday event who'd won the privilege to play co-ed. They started on the heap of rubble in the center of the arena. The game was simple. The other teams of women had four quarters to obtain for themselves the chalked-out mound of rubble-any way they could. That usually involved a debaucherous cocktail of violence and seduction that packed the 'house' and sold out pay-per-view every Thursday night. There were rules to the game, but they seemed to change nightly so few paid them much heed. Some stations called these gatherings 'Calvin Ball', but they didn't mean that kind of ball.

Teams were typically the local rabble that thought they could. Anybody who fancied themselves with some quirk or power was more than welcome to enter, but there were no soccer moms on the field-at least not tonight. "Street-level" was the order of the day.

As far as the police and local governments were concerned, 'Calvin Ball' kept the abundant litter of quirky paranormals in gyms and community centers, on local access cable TV-and off most security cameras in convenience stores Bay-Area-wide (Oakland is as Oakland does). That and a "small" event licensing tax was all that really mattered.

Nobody important lost money on these nights.

"Good evening." The ox-sized security guard eyed Angie through his dark sunglasses back stage. "May I see your pass, Miss?" His T-shirt fit him tighter than Angie's fit her. At least hers hung loose below her unsupported bustline.

"I need to talk with VE about something." Angie bit her lip and cursed her newbie honesty at this.

"Right, love." The guard chuckled. "I'm sure his e-mail's on his website. Move along please."

"No." Angie rolled her eyes. "This is … kinda personal." She rolled her shoulders around and winked over the waft of her bread-loaf breasts. "We're working on something together."

The guard raised an eyebrow and cracked a sly, confident grin. "Here's my number." He pulled out a business card and returned the wink. "My cells on it. Perhaps I can … 'assist you' … .after the show?"

She stared at him in stupid disbelief. "Just get out of my way please. I'm going to see him and there's not a whole lot you can do to-"

He popped off a section of the stair's steel railing pipe and calmly wrapped it about his huge fist. "I think you need to move al-"

"Excuse me." Angie made her way through the cocktail-toting crowd in the box suite. "Pardon-um, excuse me." All the women in the place brandished breasts at least Angie's size – and bigger. It was like trying to move through a lazily drifting forest of balloons. "Oh, sorry, pardon-" She felt woefully under-dressed in this curvy sequin sea of low cut dresses and dizzingly high hemlines. They stared at her in detached bemusement like some loose dog tracking dirt on their host's white carpet.

"Excuse me." Angie knelt down behind VE's chair as he watched the games below. A mushroom cloud of blue flame erupted off the arena floor as the Asian assassin-looking woman with the volleyball-sized breasts on his lap gave Angie a dagger look, offering VE a peeled grape from her nearly bare cleavage. The girl on VE's lap less purred, more rung like a glass cylon as Angie tried to whisper discretely in VE's ear. "We need to talk."

"Woo … did you see that?" Vag chuckled and slurped up a grape. "That armadillo fella sure didn't!"

"Mr. Eye?" All eyes were on Angie as he paused to turn. "I need to talk to-"

"Angie, this is Xi." He slurped up a strawberry. "Xi, Angie."

The woman on his lap's gaze had never left Angie's eyes. Xi raised an eyebrow in a greeting just slightly warmer than Angie would expect from a cobra-but not by much.

"That's Rose, and Terri, and Kara, and … well, you've met the rest. What can I do you for, Angie?" He offered her a strawberry.

"Is there someplace more …"

"Private?' He slurped up another grape. "Intimate will do for now. What do you need?"


"You've come to ask for another love interest for Ultra Girl, to ask me to create another Superman, one more appropriate to her 'talents' than you."

Angie looked around nervously. She thought she recognized … .out on the field … was that – ?

"Look around you, Angie." He gestured. "Do you see any men in my collection?"


"Collection just sounds classier than 'harem', doesn't it?" He chuckled. "Modern age."

She sat back and rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh come on now, Angie." He tossed a grape. "I'm a man." Xi snapped the grape out of the air between her breasts, grinning like poison. "I don't swing that way."

"But you expect me to." She folded her arms sourly. "For your bemusement, apparently."

"Expect YOU to?" He nodded. "I thought this was about Ultra Girl's needs."

Angie heard the security guard splash down, far out across the bay. It was better than listening to her skin turn white with embarrassment.


He'd finger-flicked Xi's breast. Xi's enormous breast was so firm it rung like fine crystal.

"Look, I just-"

"Angie, every one of these women has at one time or another asked me for a man of her power level to play with. But do you think any among them would find satisfaction?"

She stared at him defiantly.

"There are two truths: first, boys will be boys, no matter if they're Supermen or toys. That-I've just no interest in dealing with around here. And second: with great power comes great insatiability."

"You write fortune cookies now?"

"I'll tell you what." He reached up the entire half-inch length of Xi's black satin skirt, exchanged a wicked grin with Xi across the expanse of her breast, and pulled his hand out. "Here."

He flung her a quarter.

Angie snapped it out of the air with her fist.

"Ultra Babe ever makes you feel uncomfortable again-just deal with it." He paused. "But if you want out, just flip the coin."

"Flip the-"

"Yes." He chuckled. "I don't mean to be flippant-"

Even Xi rolled her eyes at the punishment in the silence that followed.

"But that will fix things between you."

"Fix things?"

"Attitude adjustment." He shrugged and turned back to the game. "Harmless."

"Uh huh."

"Well, then flip it back." He waived her off. "Money back guarantee on this one."

"That's not exactly what I had in mind."

"My dear Angie. Unless you're here to service me in thanks for that new super-power saturated body of yours …" He pointed to the tent he was posting. "I've a game to watch."

She stood to leave in frustration. "I'd so crush you to pulp."

"Been crushed before." He slapped over Xi's breasts like splashing on aftershave. "Hobby of mine, actually." Xi giggled as her rack rung like wind chimes.

Angie had vanished a sentence ago.


The Streets of San Francisco


Nick and Pete squealed in child-like joy and hung on for dear life, one to the steering wheel, the other to the frame as their stolen Lexus. At these speeds it cornered like a waterfall, in a roar of its turbo and clouds of what used to be its tire tread, through the narrow roller coaster that was downtown San Francisco at midnight.

Nick's driving skills were more a flaming "Dukes of Hazard" lead foot than the ice-handed "Transporter" of surgical precision the city's tight confines demanded, but they'd managed nonetheless by dumb luck to tie a pack of squad cars into knots three blocks back. High on way more than life, neither cared.

"Stay off the sidewalk, bitch!" Pete hollered out the window, half laughing as they crashed through a newsstand. "Dude, I am so starved man!" He waved an 8-ball around, christening the dash with it as they popped back over the curb. "Fuck!"

"Daaaammmm … ." Nick craned his neck up the red skirt that was fluttering over the hood, teasing them with a rather devilish look up an angelic pair of legs as she flirted with them, drifting over the speeding car. "She ain't wearin no-"


The cement truck shrugged off the T-bone.

The Lexus? Notsomuch. The car steamed and spat, wedged solid up half the hood under the truck's battleship chassis.

"You boys ok?" Supergirl giggled, leaning over the driver's side window, her

meager cleavage clinging hard to her.

"Bitch!" Nick spat and struggled to fend off the deflating airbag.

"Hey!" Pete pulled his Uzi off the floor with his free hand. "Stick this up you're-"

"No! no no-CRAP!" Nick fumbled for the lumbar release.

Drumroll in fire lit up Nick's whiskers, singing his nose black as the cabin strobed in flickering anger.

The whole clip squeezed off in one quick spurt of lead and fire. It hit her square in the face and chest like a garden hose while she snickered amused.

"Fuck!" Nick held his ears, gently padded his burned face. "You fuck head! Oh god, my leg! You fucking hit my LEG!"

"Dude!" Pete cracked up laughing. "Point blank in the face!"

"Damn you fuckhead!" Nick winced as his left leg started to ooze blood.

"You boys stick around, ok?" She reached up and sunk her fingers in the cement truck's barrel like into so much wet clay. "Nice police and paramedics will be along momentarily."

"Oh god."

She pulled the truck down over them. The whole thing screeched and popped, straining while the truck bent over on its side.


The truck's barrel crushed the back seat and trunk of the Lexus like paper, crashing through with a sickening thud.

Nick unclenched enough to peek when the crunching sound stopped. They were pinned solid, the roof crushed, doors wedged into the asphalt under perhaps twenty tons of tipped-over cement truck, somewhere between its barrel and it's chassis rail.


"Little hard on them, perhaps?"

Supergirl looked up at Angie hovering twenty feet over the scene. "I had the feeling I was being watched."

"Quite a show." Angie rolled her eyes.

"They won't remember a thing. Too doped up, and too stupid to know it." She pulled her cape around her and rose in the air beside Angie. "Just lucky the mixer was empty. So who are you?"

"An-um … Galaxy Girl." Angie hadn't really thought this through yet.. "Just spotted you working, thought I'd drop by."

Supergirl giggled. "Some kind of pick up line?"

"What?" Angie stammered. "Um, wait! No I-"

"Never know in San Francisco." Supergirl shrugged. "That's why I usually work East Coast."

"We're not all like that." Angie drifted over to a nude bar's neon sign for a sit. "I don't live here either."

"Relax, kiddo." Supergirl drifted over. "I ain't gonna ask the nitty gritty life story. Just want to know if you're a good or a bad girl."

"Good." Angie's gaze wandered absently through the bar's walls. "Mostly."

Supergirl raised an eyebrow. "Kryptonian? You're flying, but anatomy looks human … mostly."

Angie shrugged. "I guess." She turned her globular chest away shyly.

"Well, I gotta be getting back home before my other self is missed too much." Supergirl winked. "Hope to see you soon."

"Yeah, I'll be around." Angie whispered. "I've been your biggest fan since forever."

Supergirl zagged back from leaving and pecked Angie a kiss on the cheeks. "Thanks kiddo. Appreciate the good vib – "


Supergirl's brains splattered all over the wall.

Her body fell in a heap in the alley.

"Wh-!!!" Angie blinked into the alley, knelt to hold Supergirl's limp and bloody body. It wasn't a pretty sight. The bullet punched in Supergirl's temple, not so neat on the other side. The remains of Supergirl's skull sparkled with the shimmering dust of what Angie knew to be no less than four different flavors of kryptonite.



"Why." She whispered in the assassin's ear as he flicked the sun lenses down over his brass-rimmed glasses. The corner office was barren save for scattered binders and dust bunnies from its previous, now bankrupt occupant. Lead sheets hung over the walls, a lead-lined tarp covered the floor, another stapled to the ceiling. He sat alone in the blackness on a simple wooden chair, looking out a simple window, a simple sniper's rifle perched on its ledge, crumbs of simple bread, empty bottles of simple water scattered about.

He didn't even turn to address her. He knew he was dead. "I am only a casing."

"Why." Her breath was slow, controlled. Her muscles oozed out across her frame against everything she could do.

"You cannot call the bullet back, child." He folded his hands over his black priest's robes and bowed, resigned. "It is over. Finish this."

"WHY!" Tears flung from her cheeks and sprinkled her vast, trembling breasts as her body tore completely from her loose clothes.

He whispered his own benediction with his last breath.

"WHY!!!" The word crushed a house-sized sphere from upper side of the building where they stood. Girders, concrete, steel, glass, carpeting, wiring-all blown out like dynamite in a coke can.

She hovered, sobbing in the cavern she'd just carved. Tears mixed with his blood and bile as it dripped from the sphere of wreckage all around. Flecks of his priest's robe and collar drifted by like ashen snow.

Windows from ten floors in all directions sparkled as their remains danced over the streets twenty floors below.




"Pee-Yew!" Jen waved off her nose as she barged in the bathroom. "Chemistry lab's in Duncan Hall! Whatcha doing, Angie?"

"Stinking up the place, apparently." Angie stood by the sink, pulling tinfoil from her sopping hair. The shoulders of her pink robe were splattered white.

"Bleach?" Jen picked up the bottle at arm's length. "Girlfriend, two things: why do you want to go blonde, and why didn't you call me?" Jen's complexion shifted feline, first snow leopard, then her spots shifted to a deep orange Bengal tiger's stripes. "I could have helped!"

"Directions seemed simple enough." Angie plunged her head under the faucet.

"Girl! Don't stick your fingers in that! You gotta wear gl-" Jen caught herself. "Never done this before, have you."

"Nope." Angie pulled her mop out of the sink and wrung it out.

"Geez! Watch it with that stuff!" Jen hopped behind the sink wall, shifting out of her fur as she dodged splashes of noxious-smelling wetness. She looked at Angie, then squinted at the bottle. "How long did you leave that in for?"

"Five hours."

"Damn!" Jen squinted. "I don't think it-"

"Nothing." Angie looked dismayed at herself through the splattered mirror. Her brunette hadn't changed a shade.

"You sure you used this bottle?" Jen blinked.

"Yeah." Angie crumpled up the debris from the sink. "Even my hair's invulnerable."

"Dawem, girlfriend!" Jen stared in awe as Angie pouted out of the room. "Still friends, right?"


"Oh gawd, you should have seen him, nice ass, but he was like THIS big!" Mel jumped on the bed and gestured on tippy toes. "And he was like 'don't care how hot you think you are, no little-' and I NUKED him and-his eyes popped open with that deer-in-the-headlights-'girl … '" Mel spotted Angie moping back to her dorm room from across the hall. "Angie!" Mel bounded over to the open doorframe. "We could have sooo used you on team tonight! Where you-you ok?"

"Fine." Angie tossed her towel on the laundry pile. A blink later Angie was dressed for the gym, racket in hand, locking the door behind her.

Mel blinked in disbelief.

"Nothing you can help." Liz turned a page as she feigned disinterest behind a textbook on the bed. "Leave her be."

"Uh … yeah." Mel watched Angie mope to the outside door and leave. "Catch ya


The campus was littered with lovers lounging about in all the dark corners, light corners too. Nudity had run rampantly meaningless since she'd left. Everybody'd seen everybody else at their most intimate already. Every now and then lovers would part spit, and swap partners, right out on the grassy quad.

All this despite the fact it was snowing out. Nothing had stuck in the State of California since the first week of the great ice barrier, but it was still bitter cold out nonetheless.




The racket ball courts were packed.

"Um, excuse me?" A sweaty mobster-looking kid in all black caught the ball as Angie let herself in the back of the court. "We've got 12 until closing."

"Make you a deal." Angie sighed and peeled off her windbreaker … slowly … while she … talked. "One point … two of you … against me …"

The boy and his sparring partner just stared in disbelief at the volleyballs she brought to court.

"First point wins." She adjusted her over-stretched sports bra.

Her breasts didn't budge.

"You win, I'll take you both, right here, right now, until closing."

She paused to let them drool, cinching up her running shorts over her butt. "I win … I get the court."

She had the court to herself for an hour before anybody else disturbed her. She just served the ball, tapping it to herself, catching it gently, and again. One blue spot on the wall became darker and darker.

Thinking about nothing.


Moon's Howl


"In a killing mood?" Jen poked her nose in.

Angie stared at the floor.

"Heard you were down here." Jen stepped in. "Kinda bored with normals myself. I know you'd slaughter me." She held up her racket. "But would be a nice change of pace." She crouched in a cat stretch across the hardwood, her body rippling with peach fuzz cheetah spots and a slingshot's worth of lean, wiry muscles.

Angie tossed Jen her racket.

Jen caught it, puzzled.

"Only fair." Angie shrugged.

Jen kicked off her court shoes, stretched out her toes and claws over the wood, and spun both rackets in a blur about her wrists like a sai expert, lowering to a mantis stance. "Oh, you want game?"

"Tsk." Angie cracked a smile. "As if."

"I'll take you on, monkey girl." Jen growled, her pointed ears folded back, long tail twitching. "Just serve the ball."

Angie hand served the ball, gently to the front right corner, same rifle serve that'd won her the court earlier.

The court rang like gunfire.

Angie watched as Jen's spring-loaded body cross the court in one bound, swatting the ball left backhanded mid cartwheel as she kicked off the wall. Slow motion to Angie, but all the more mesmerizing. The ball had passed across Angie's face again as she watched Jen's claws skid her center court and crouched like a spinning scorpion, tail curled over her.

She must be the devil to a human opponent. Angie could easily imagine how many both seconds it'd take Jen to ace some poor drooling boy …

Angie skipped over her and scraped the ball off the back floor, swatting it against the back wall hard enough to send it skimming to the forward wall an inch off the deck.

Jen pounced the ball as it spun in from behind, her own body curling inches off the floor to the front wall-jammed a racket in the corner when she got there with a court-rattling growl. "Bring it!" She panted and spun as the pop up curled over her head.

Angie watched, detached. It was like playing fetch with a puppy. Jen moved like water just about as fast as the ball could. Hell of a 'costume'. There was something simple, something elegant about her Angie couldn't quite put her finger on. Something childlike …


The ball split in half and spun off in two different directions. Jen hit the deck like a sack of potatoes in a fur coat-in full tigress form, purring loud as a Harley. "You're point, I suppose." She stalked to the back of the court like a swing set, picked off a broken string from her racket, kicked up a spare ball from her satchel, and tossed it over her shoulder.

"Going to be a short game." Angie caught the ball.

"Don't tell them that." Jen turned and roared out the plate glass door loud enough to rattle it on its hinges. The gathered pack of looky-loo's tumbled over like bowling pins all over themselves in the hall, briefly scattering like cockroaches.

"You're incorrigible." Angie bounced the ball absently.

"So? You're quite the freak show yourself." Jen lowered in svelte cheetah spots, ready to pounce the next serve. "For a non-kitty. Don't know how you move that fast with those huge boobs of yours nowadays. I should be wiping the floor with you by now."

Angie stood erect and shot Jen an incredulous look. "Bad kitty." She bounced the ball, held her arms to her hips, and served with a swat of her wrecking ball breasts.


"Um …" Jen rose in dumfounded awe.

The ball had embedded in the heavy plywood of the front wall.

"Sorry." Angie straightened her enormously stretched sports bra as she walked over to the wall. "I think it's still good …" She popped the wall with her fists. The ball popped out but the room jolted like a bomb went off. Plywood splintered off a shower of white paint. She tossed the ball back over her shoulder. "Your serve, I suppose."

"Daewm." Jen dropped her rackets in slack-jawed disbelief as the ball bounced behind her.

"What?" Angie shrugged. "You're the one that wanted to play me."

"I'm usually the one doing the toying." Jen's attitude shifted from predator to prey as she started to come to grips with how much power Angie was holding back. "You're in control, right?"

"You're still in one piece."

"Friends, right?" Jen walked nervously to the serving box.

"Doesn't mean I'm going to give you this point."

Jen's expression hardened like a starving lioness considering a bull elephant. "Wouldn't want you to." Jen stretched out her best tai chi, her tube top ripping off like a paper bag popping. Angie thought she was going too green out and go completely hulk on her. Jen's frame came close, filling out to a truckload of brick house beneath a mottled lion's mane. Veins crawled over Jen's skin, showing through her bristle-hard looking lioness fur. Claws sunk into the hardwood floor. The handles of both carbon fiber rackets in Jen's paws splintered at her grip.


Jen pulled back like a battleship tacking over, the six firmly erect breasts stacked down her abdomen arcing with the twist of her spine, all still in slow motion to Angie.



She took a divot out of the floor, shattering her racket as she served the ball two inches off the floor. In a blink Angie watched the ball flatten to a blue pancake on the wall, and leap off like a lap swimmer. It spun so hard it zagged from dead center to left wall an inch off the deck before it smoked skidding off the floor and took a 180 back to the front wall.

Angie slid over the hardwood on her sneakers, finger flicking the ball an inch before it touched again, and spinning out of the way before it shot back in Jen's surprised face.

Jen caught a face full of smoking blue confetti. The ball was too hot and had shredded right through the strings of her racket.

"Phew." Jen spat sourly, deflating back to her human self. "How do you count THAT?"

"I'm sorry." Angie giggled softly. "Didn't know we were keeping score."

"And damn!" Jen fumbled around to wipe the blue gunk off her face on the torn remains of her top from the floor. "Nobody can return that serve!"

"Was pretty ridiculous." Angie toed the scattered splinters of floor divot. "I guess I'm not nobody."

"Sorry about your racket." Jen offered the splintered remains. "But you were asking for it."

Angie chuckled. "I'd tell you keep trying." Angie offered Jen Angie's windbreaker. "But you've no hope of ever scoring on me."

Jen approached close, reached for the windbreaker, claws drawn, an evil grin on her face. "Never say-"


"Never." Jen had planted her other hand's claws under cover of windbreaker firmly up Angie's crotch.

Jen was needle sharp, and probably could have just put her fingers through a phone book the hard way. Angie's skin was ridiculously beyond being pricked but –

Angie froze in a shocked expression, letting the sparking sensation seep through her like brewing tea.

"Not so invulnerable." Jen's eyes slit as she breathed through her fangs. "Are you." She slid her claws over Angie's marble-tight lips … very, very slowly.

The sensation hit Angie like lightning on a chalkboard. She let her muscles unfurl, willingly. Her eyes rolled back as she hulked up like a life raft, shedding her top like a cheap wrapper, completely slack-jawed at the river's rush of raw power into her body.

Jen backed away from the shadow of Angie's enormous breasts fearfully.

"Bad kitty." Angie whispered through her hungry, green lips.

"Oh, my … ."

"Goddess?" Angie took a flex. Still at 5'5", she was a dirigible of muscles, undulating and throbbing in the pleasure of raw power the way marble dreams of and only volcanoes really can. At the tip of her nipples and the peak of her bulging biceps Angie seemed as thick as she was tall. Every python-like ooze of Angie's muscles Jen could feel like standing too close to a rumbling locomotive.

"Fuck." Jen fell back on her ass, scrambling up against a wall.

"You wouldn't even begin to survive." Angie drifted off the floor, her legs too bulked up to touch her toes together. "This is nothing." Her body too throbbing to reach her hands anywhere below her butt. "I get astronomical from here."

"Angie … you're – " Jen was drawn to Angie's football-sized nipples like a kitten to milk.

"Don't." Angie blinked to the far corner of the room in a clap of thunder, scolding. "Forces you don't understand, kitty."

Jen dropped to her knees, bent over backwards, arms spread and let her own lioness bulk overcome her. Whispering like the hiss of a snake, "do me."

Angie paused, her body receding, flesh tones returning. "What?"

"Let me worship you." Jens claws circled one of her many nipples, her own crotch.

"Jen, I-"

"DO ME!" Jen pounced like a rain of razor sharp girders from across the court-and seemed to slow mid-air to Angie as she easily sidestepped her.

"You're one sex-crazed kitty, Jen." Angie slipped back into her windbreaker. "But I'd maim you even trying not to."

It was loose enough to make Pam Anderson seem flat, but it did nothing to hide the stone firm and permanently erect mounds of Angie's breasts.

"Try me." Jen winced as tiger stripes and somehow even more bulk, muscles, and tendons mixed with her already lioness bulk. Angie guessed Jen in that form could probably bare-hand a school bus in half. Closer to a locomotive, but who's counting?

"Your funeral." Angie dropped her satchel and assumed her best super girl stance. Except Supergirl, not even Powergirl for that matter, ever had a prow as stern as Angies.

Jen was on her stunningly fast, seemed to leap in reverb. Jen leapt onto Angie's human frame and chomped her fangs clean through the windbreaker and bit down hard on Angie's left breast. Angie pumped her left pec, sending Jen flapjacking back across the court, trailing blood and spit, slamming in the wall so hard she left a spidered dent up half of it.

"Told you." Angie brushed the spit off her flawlessly smooth mountain of flesh. "I'm stupid beyond your power levels, even totally powered down. Shouldn't have taken a broken face for you to believe."

"Had to try." Jen slithered out from the rubble in the corner in her sveltest cheetah form, paws padding gently over her face. "Package deal: all the powers of any cat I want … ." She snapped her jaw painfully back in place. "Fatal looks, but fatal curiosity too." Her face sorted it out as Angie watched, a bit dumfounded.

"You regenerate?"

"Lycanthropy." Jen shrugged. "My cat forms are permanent, unchangeable. It's a 'force of nature' kind of thing. Invulnerability-only messier, and way more painful."

"You could have mentioned that."

"You could have mentioned you're freaking Super Hulk Girl."

"You could have gotten yourself killed."

"Doesn't matter how much power you've got." Jen grinned, her incisors visibly resharpening themselves. "No silver bullet-no getting rid of me. My form always resets."

"You're insane."

"Just free from fear." Jen shrugged. "Something you should be, and are obviously not. I know you can hurt me-a lot it seems. I really don't want any more of that, but you can't kill me with only those holy-shit muscles of yours."

"Ever been tossed into the Sun?" Angie mused. "I could also have that collar of yours for myself in about two microseconds."

"Um …" Jen looked around nervously at the wrecked court. "We're still friends, right?"

"You owe me a new jacket."

"Lighten up, girlfriend!" Jen cinched Angie's jacket up and admired the way Angie's enormous tit poked through like a polar bear's nose through tent canvas. "It looks better that way!"

Angie's expression soured.

"Oh come on." Jen gestured wildly. "Enormous Cosmic POWERS!" She puffed up her chest, bristling out in three rows of very succulent-looking breasts. She slid to the side and whispered over Angie's shoulder, actually shrinking to the cutest housecat she could muster. "So … why the little tiny living space?"

Angie just stared at her blankly. "You are the devil, aren't you."

"A devil, goddess." Jen corrected, grinning ear to pointed ear. "Just 'A' devil, not 'The'."

"So where's the white robed one for my other shoulder?"

"Come on my little goddess." Jen giggled. "Lets go totally make out like animals in a fountain. Maybe she'll show up."

"She'll be a devil too."

"Menage' tw-?"




The news was on in the rec room: The Daily Show, but close enough-truer in most cases.


"Today the Amazons, of all people, have offered their assistance to the United States Government to help contain the West Coast spread of what the Vice President was quoted as calling 'the biggest plague of diseased sexual immorality since the fall of the Roman Empire.'" The graphic behind John switched to a shot of a shamelessly buxom Amazon warrior in three sizes smaller than the smallest outfit one could call 'armor', standing on the steps of the capitol building's Romanesque dome-sporting fa?ade. He paused for the effect he generously received. "Now … forgive me for noticing, butt – "


"Oh come on." Jen slid the side door open and walked in proudly wearing only her collar and her tennis shoes, her hair sopping-still dripping wet. "Girl, if I can-"

"Hey Jen!"

"Hey Kevin, how's it hanging?"

"Straight up for you! Want some?"

"It's ok. Had mine tonight. Git in here girlfriend!"


"The Secretary of Homeland Defense today has stated that in conjunction with the centers for disease controls, air travel restrictions will remain in place across the Western seaboad of the United States due to the uncontrolled spread of sexually transmitted diseases." John Stewart tossed a page over his shoulder. "That's right, America! If the President and his Cabinet can't get in the mile-high club-neither can none'ya all!"


Angie peeked nervously in the door like a deer, cupping herself, otherwise naked.

"Angie?" Kevin turned around and took notice. "Damn, girl! Haven't seen you around here in what … ?


"Yeah, whatever, come on – DAwmn you've got some HUGE lemmie have a good look at you're-why aren't you a cheerleader? Sues' got NUTHIN on ya!"

Angie stepped in timidly, her hair dripping water on the linoleum. "Kevin, I-"

"Comeon, girl!" Kevin leered and thrust his pelvis up where they could see his substantial endowments. "Trade you some of mine, for some of yours!"

Angie rolled her eyes at Jen and lied through her teeth. "I'm kind of tired tonight too, morning perhaps?"

"Holey … shit!" Kevin's eyes widened. "You're place, or right here?"

Angie blinked and turned to Jen in a whisper. "Give him your collar."

"What!?!" Angie yelped, surprised. "No!" She returned Angie a scolding look, then whispered. "Besides, Vaggy voo-doo only works on chicks, or I would have tried that a long time ago."

"Oh." Angie sighed, longingly. "How do you know?"

"Because." Jen snickered. "Norman and I did try that once."



"In market news today pharmaceutical company Johnson Pfiser having denied on Tuesday having anything to do with the development of the new designer orgasm drug 'sparkle' that's become all the rage West of the Rockies-REVERSED their position …" John paused to reflect. "Saying they're in rapid development of the exponentially more effective drug they've dubbed 'comet' to be released later this month." John grinned. "Yes, they're moving their headquarters to Redondo Beach later this week after a sudden … SPURT of capitol from investors, ladies and gentlemen. Yet gasoline remains at a nationwide average of thirty dollars a gallon."


"Hey now girl!" Jen pulled Angie by the arm-sort of. "Don't go spoiling him for me now!"

"I was just kidding, Jen!" Angie protested, tiptoeing nervously across the linoleum to leave.

"Aw." Kevin sank dejected, and signed 'call me' to the both of them as they left. "Wicked kitties."


"Al T'Zera, The Arab News Network's reports continues its downward spiral into the absurd, the terrorist clip of the day goes to the Earth Liberation Front, for their gun sight footage of Supergirl shot down by a sniper."


Angie froze.


"Come on, fellas. Supergirl? Killed by a gunshot wound? That's worse than the fake footage of the Moon landing! What ever happened to the good old days, flying airplanes into buildings, and strapping on vests of dynamite and blowing themselves up? Get back to the classics people. In these trying times this network would like to plead with the terrorist organizations of the world: please blow yourselves up more often, thank you."


Angie disappeared down the hallway, leaving Jen to follow at her and Kevin's leisure. She was pawing through her dwindling wardrobe when a knock came at the door. "You've got the key, silly-"

It wasn't Jen, or Liz, or Mel.

"Oh, um … .hello." Angie swung the door open. It was a man bigger than the doorframe. She had to duck out and look up to see his shaved head. He wore a flawless black Italian suit and shades to match.

"Can I help you?" Angie couldn't help but noticing through his trousers how massively endowed he was.

He never even looked at her. Never flinched, never spoke. He held out a black garment bag. Angie couldn't see what it contained.

"Um, for Jen?"



He offered it to her. His fists were as big as her breasts and encrusted in a full set of horse-sized gold and diamond rings.

"Um … thanks?" It took Angie a moment to notice the garment bag weighed several hundred pounds, obviously lead lined.

He nodded, barely, and turned to leave. He had just limbed out the side door when Jen bounded up naked and frisky.

"Damn!" Jen exclaimed at the sight of his back out the door. "What's Sphinx doing here?"

"You know him?"

"Seen him." Jen shrugged. "Vaggy's top goon. A serious Lurch-type, works the back room at the laundry." Jen noticed the bag Angie got stuck holding. "Making deliveries? Must be something special. Lemmie see!"

"Down kitty!" Angie brushed her off as she turned back to the room and closed the door behind them.

"Aw, comeon!" Jen plopped down on her bed, pouting. "Just a peek? You know I'm going to get into it later anyway, next time you're not looking."

"Bad kitty!" Angie scolded, taken aback. "Since when do I get into your stuff?"

Jen grinned. "X-ray vision, don'tcha?"

"No!" Jen hung up the bag in her closet. "Sheesh! You people!"

"Uh huh."

Angie sighed against her desk. "Well, ok. Maybe just a little."

"Ha!" Jen leapt onto Angie's bed and bounced. "Knew it!" She crouched low, her ocelot tail curling around the bedpost. "So, what's in the bag? Does it have a red tag?"

"Alright! Alright!" Angie shoved Jen by the nose back on her ass. "I'll open it! Geez!"

She plopped the bag down on her bed and pulled the zipper.

No red tag, just a note on a dry-cleaner's receipt that read: "She wanted you to have these." An entire wardrobe of red and black skirts, capes, blue, white, and black tops, gold trim, boots, all marked with sewn-in diamond "S" logos spilled out all over the floor.

"Wow." Jen's eyes opened wide. "You've been promoted." Her fingers ran through the smooth silky feel of the exotic materials-none of them really silk. "I'm totally going to borrow some of these."

"What." Angie seemed detached in thought. "No undies?"


Ladies Night


The DJ's fingers moved through blue flames swirling over the circular console. It was half dance, half performance. Everybody's pulse aligned to the subsonic echo of his bass line as it ebbed and flowed like water over sand. Enough equipment to control an airport glistened in the blackness weaving out waves of rhythms and hanging drifts like seagulls over the gathered crowd. The DJ's nest hung on guy wires from rented cranes that towered over Hollister's normally sleepy farmland airport. Flatbed trucks piled in throbbing speakers sat parked all down the runway. Cars parked in and among the moored crop dusters, gliders, and biplanes. A row of container trucks parked down one side formed a giant stage on which a dance troupe of weather controllers wove swirling masses of mist, rain, and lightning overhead to the rhythms of the music and the cheers of the undulating costumed crowd drifting like kelp over the runway below. It was the second Saturday of the month. The usual Calvin Ball game at the Alameda was suspended for a more sociable event. Midnight, and Club Galaxy was in full swing.

"Are we there yet?" Jen pouted, alone in the back seat

They could see its glow over the first hill from the fifteen agonizing miles of flat, foggy farmland it took to drive out Highway 25 from Gilroy. The three of them wore their Saturday best: Liz in a black lace teddy and a tasteful black velvet cloak, Mel in her glossy blue Speedo, and Jen in her collar and nothing else worth mentioning.

"The traffic's horrible tonight." Mel gestured at the single row of taillights threading off to the glowing horizon. "At least Davis had real freeway access. This country highway thing sucks."

"Angie could have flown us all there." Jen brewed in the back seat. "Anybody know this friend of hers she's gotta go pick up?"

"Yes, but I ain't telling." Liz licked her finger and turned the page of the book she was ignoring.

"I could walk faster than this."

"Why don't you?"

"Don't mind if I do." Jen stepped out the rear door like a horseless Godiva and slammed it behind her. "See you there." Her skin spotted up and furred over as her body stretched out long and lean. She was gone up the highway in a scamper of tiger's tail.

Mel leaned back in the driver's seat. "So are we settling during shipping, or what?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Liz put down her book, reached out a black-laced arm, and squinted at the row of traffic. She seemed to take it by the head like a step and sweep it off to the right. With a flourish, she sat back and picked up her book again.

"That it?"

"Wait for it."

A moment later the entire 15 mile-long row of cars spontaneously turned their blinkers on to the right, and pulled over to the side of the road, some completely into the rather abysmal ditch that awaited them.

"Damn. Reach out and touch somebody?" Mel put the car in gear. "I gotta get me some better powers. I can't even fly."

"It's all in the wrist." Liz winked slyly and turned another page as they started passing car, after dazed and confused driver, after car. "And half the time flying is just crashing anyway."

"Like you know."

"I don't have to know everything." Liz shrugged. "Just the people who do."

Mel hunkered down behind the wheel. "I seriously need new powers."

"Still have that red tag off your ring?"


"Then all you need is a better outfit."

Jen gave Liz a stupid look and stopped the car.

"Yeah." Liz passed the look back like passing off a shiv. "I can get another ride home." Liz stepped out of the car onto the highway. "And it was your idea, not mine."

"Holy fuck." Mel's eyes glazed over at the thought. "She'd totally kill me."

Liz shrugged as she hopped in the back seat of a nearby car and rolled down the window. "Not in uniform." Liz finger flicked the driver's ear and they were off in a start down the open highway.

"Holy fuck." Mel slammed the little blue Dodge through a three-point turn and sped off back the other way.

A whole pack of super girls had formed on a corner of the dance floor. They danced, giggled, and wiggled in all shapes and sizes in outfits from homemade patchwork to the sublime.

"What gives?" Ultra Babe gave them a sour nose-over. "I do all the work, get all the camera time, have all the fun-and that little twerp rescues a kitten from a tree every now and then and SHE gets all the fans!" Ultra Babe defiantly adjusted the sparkling gold crosses of tape she wore over her permanently erect nipples tonight. Those and a matching gold sequin g-string was about all she bothered to wear tonight.

"She doesn't frighten them." Angie looked over her glasses at Ultra Babe. "Besides, you have your fans."

As if on cue a pack of frat boys in capes and dime store masks walked by. One of them spotted both of Ultra Babe and tapped his friend. The tap spread in an instant and the whole group on cue turned, dropped to their kneepads on the tarmac raised their beers in a hoot and began chanting, their hips bouncing in worship. "Ultra Babe! Ultra Babe! Ultra Babe!"

Ultra Babe handed Angie her whiskey. "Excuse me." She strutted to the midst of them and started dancing along, bending over backwards on her toes like Cupid's bow. "Hiya boyz."

"Woo hoo!"


Angie scoffed, turned, and walked away, leaving Ultra Babe to her impromptu orgy.

Angie sat in her schoolgirl plaid skirt and white blouse in a dark corner of the upper bleachers, chewing on a basket of barbequed ribs she'd swiped at super speed right off the grill from one of the food vendor tents over on the south side of the runway. Her senses darted from one bit to the next, the whole festival seeming to move in slow motion to her. Ultra Babe's orgy writhed on like a herd of mating snails of hands and limbs all over her body. She saw Jen arrive on foot in full tiger stripes and saunter straight for the dance floor. She saw Liz arrive in the wrong company, but figured it would be a while before Liz could spot her in this crowd.

Angie's fluttering senses kept coming back to the crowd of Super Girl wannabes on the dance floor. Did they know? Her visions rifled through all of their bodies in detail, a fracture here, a scar there, more than a few implants, surgical scars-but there was not a perfect specimen among them that could actually be Kryptonian. Did they know? Was this some sort of bizarre subconscious wake? She was so distracted she didn't notice she was chewing down bone, or that he'd wandered that close to her without-

"This weeks fashion." His words caught her like a bowling ball upside the head.

She turned in a blinking fright, and stopped.

He wasn't who she figured he'd be. He was a young man in a sweater, slacks, and a fairly useless string mask-all black. He was human clean through.

Couldn't be. Nobody could have snuck up on-

"It'll be Tinkerbell next week." He shrugged, standing over her one bleacher up in the chill night air. "I like the view this week better."

He was packing more than just a set of nasty-looking throwing stars. Ninja boy played it cool, but he came fully equipped.

"Your date dump you for one of them, I suppose." He took a seat behind her, his eyes still lost in the distant throng of diamond S's sloshing about on all those breasts …

"Not exactly." Angie wiped the barbeque sauce off her fingers. "Just hanging out with some friends tonight."

"So I see." He let that drop.

"And you?" Angie dodged the subject. "Out working security tonight?"

He chuckled. "I'm just not one for crowds."

"Prowling the fringe …" Angie wiped her lips off and leaned back. "At a fringe festival. Doesn't that get a little ragged?"

"I find the real lionesses out here."

"Are you prowling or just hoping to get caught?"

"Depends." He gave her blouse a good downlook. "You?"

She giggled at the wicked thought. "Sorry ninja boy." She made an epic of unbuttoning her blouse, breeching her naked breasts before him like twin breeching whales in heat, and tugged her blue scoop-cut half top over them in a struggle like bagging wet lettuce heads. "I'm with them tonight." She slipped out of her plaid skirt and shook out the red silk micro skirt out from beneath.

"Hardly." His breathing was slow, controlled. She could hear and see his heart racing to pump blood down his-"You're far bigger game than that."

"Hm." She dropped her plaid skirt over his lap. "I'm a hunt or two beyond you too, cutie." She gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead, purposely holding his gaze down the night blackness of her cleavage. Her hands drifted over his lap as she walked away backwards, her cape unfurling as she went.

"Willing to risk it." He flung a ninja star deftly at her.

She caught it slyly between her breasts. It sparked, sputtered, and died, crushed like a spider. She almost crushed his etched phone number from its casing.

He shuddered, awestruck, recovering. "Names' Raven. Call me."

"I'm the real Supergirl." She blurted out.

He considered the S stretched like a trampoline between her breasts. "Thought you were smaller … and blonde."

Angie shrugged. She could feel her nipples tingling, expanding at the attention. "Growth spurt." She turned her back to him. "And the whole blonde thing gave the wrong impression."

Her top tightened around her. It was like baling wire when she forced it on. She wasn't sure how much more of her it could take.

"See you around." She dashed down the stairs as casually as she could and strode off a little to determined towards the dance floor.

"Wow!" Another super girl gave her a jealous lookdown. "Super WOMAN is here, I suppose."

"Super slut, that is." Another girl spat out. Angie pretended not to know who.

"No money left for the wig eh?"

Angie withdrew into her own world as she slowly danced like a pair of gracefully drifting whales. Her nipples throbbed at the attention. Keeping them at bay was like wrestling steam locomotives, but Angie forced herself to think about other, more boring things, keeping her toes on the ground without gouging the concrete for example.

"There you are!" Ultra Babe found her and stormed out on the dance floor. The crowd of super girls scattered like cockroaches at her approach. "And oh my god, what are you wearing?"




The dorm room's deadbolt sparked blue and sputtered blue flames.

Come on, come on, don't have all night-

Mel forced every bit of her concentration through the ring at the steel trinket holding the door closed.

Oh gawd, come on …

She paused and blew through the crack, leaned over for a peek.

Half way.

Shit. I am so useless. Why the hell do they make these things so tough?

She braced against the back wall, grit her teeth and threw everything she had on it.

The hallway sparked blue as lightning sparked over the brick wall all around the door as she held her beam on the deadbolt.

Sweat evaporated from her scalding hot skin. She was shaking before the bolt cut and the door gently swung open.


She allowed herself two pants for breath, then forced her burning sore body to stand again, and fumble with the keys to her room across the hall. A few huffs later and she was fumbling through her box of receipts. Her hand shook as she pulled out the small red tag, it's string carefully untied, ready to be tied again.

She didn't have much time. She knew Angie was going to the Club tonight, but she also knew Angie could blink back to the dorms from there in an instant if she had urge to wash up.

She almost tore the zipper off the heavy lead back in Angie's closet. Mel ripped seams off her own teal costume peeling it off her as fast as she could. She would clean that up later at super speed if this worked.

Boots went on first. She didn't have time for this, but wanted a whole super girl outfit on when she tried, just in case that's what it took. She wasted a minute pawing through the little super girl wardrobe looking for a bra and panties, her heart darkening thinking Angie had left for the party wearing the only set the wardrobe came w-oh. She grinned. What the hell would a super girl need a bra for? She can smash buildings with those things!

And she'd already heard the story about the lack of panties in the set. It just took her a minute of searching to remember.

Blue skirt, the clasps cut her fingers she was so nervous about it. She nearly tore them out as it didn't quite fit around her just a hair oversized hips. The white top went on like a pair of tights, and hung quite loose on her in the front-as expected. The short cape tied on easily enough and those little white gloves would fit anybody, fingerless as they were.

She looked at herself in the mirror.

She looked frumpy, misshapen, blemished, droopy, stuffed in: the image of a girl trying on her big sister's clothes, half ten years too soon, half ten years too late.

That only spurred her on. She threaded the red tag's wire through the left seam of the oversized top. It seemed the easiest place.

The tag caught on blue fire.

"Shit!" She waived it off, tugging to pull her ring off, but it wouldn't budge.

The fire only got worse for the waving.

"Shit shit shit!"

The fire sparked to the costume and burned across the fabric, under her arm, over her chest, washing over her back.

"Shit oh shit!"

She dropped to the ground and tried to roll around, but the fire kept burning across the fabric of the costume, leaping down to her skirt.


The costume was on fire, but wasn't burning.

She stood and watched the flame flow like white water around her butt and down the back of her cape. Flames flashed over the gloves, puffing out at her knuckles.


Nothing she wasn't used to. Her electric blue fire had been her plaything for months now. It burned cold and she knew it was mostly for show, never really scorched much of anything.


She'd forgotten to take her ring off. That probably screwed up the red tag mojo.

Nothing'd really changed.

She took one last turn in the mirror of herself in one of Angie's spare super girl costumes. She still looked awful in it. She felt silly.

She was reaching for the cape to take it off, and reaching for some dumb excuse to tell Angie as to why Mel had to burn through her deadbolt when she spotted a black strap of a velvet chocker in the bottom of the garment bag.

Forgot my … what did she need to come home for from the party?

She absently picked up the choker.

Needed to get …

That was lame. Gawd, she might have to fess up the truth. Nothing else sounded any better.

She absently tied it around her neck.

But who could blame her? Jen must have already played dress up in Angie's things by now. Mel was only human? Surely Angie could understand a little of Mel's fantas-


At the clasp of the choker the costume hit her body like a gong, rattling through flesh and bone alike. Her knees failed her. She hit her head on the corner of the desk on the way to collide with the traffic-worn carpet.

"Ohg-" Mel tried to clench her teeth against the pain, but her body had gone numbly stiff, unresponsive. Her breasts felt like they were filling out with ice. Her spine felt like an inside-out porcupine mating with itself. Her eyes felt like they were being poked out with needles. Her flesh crawled like tractors. She wanted to throw up, but nothing would respond.

Mel seemed to flush down her ear.




Angie shrugged. "Like you know anything about fashion." Beams of heat shot steaming from Angie's eyes and flamed the bits of sequined tape neatly in two off Ultra Babe's nipples.

"Oh gaw-" Ultra Babe choked on a twitter and caught herself hungrily from the recoil by the nipples.

"Damn!" One of the other super girls shouted. "She's real!"

"Get 'er, Supergirl!"

Angie lowered her arms and slowly wound down from dancing as Ultra Babe licked her lips and ground her own engorging nipples in her palms so hard the screech from it shot pain through the ears of all the human super girls around, earplugs and all. "She's so way more than Supergirl ladies." Ultra Girl's own heat vision shot through the chill air, lancing red-hot gravel from across the concrete between them like pulling a string and slicing straight up Angie's crotch to plow like rocket exhaust square down Angie's cleavage.

Angie didn't budge, nor did her costume burn open. She flexed her pecs, taking Ultra Babe's beam of pure fire and seeming to squeeze it harder into herself, focusing a fountain of flame from it straight up, punching a whole in the low overcast fog like a brick into a bathtub.

"Holy shit!" The pillar of fire roaring off Angie's chest cut into the stage show.

Ultra Babe flexed, braced and projected her heat vision harder.

Angie raised an eyebrow. She clenched against letting her body hulk out.

Thunder Twin Powers Activate.

Angie Stood unmoving.

The music had stopped.

Everyone stared in awe at the pyrotechnics.

"Come on!" Ultra Babe lit in harder. "Hulk up girl!"

"She's winning!"

"Hush boy, or you're next." Ultra Babe's frame poured out muscle and flesh. She flexed as a massive wall of muscle and those wrecking-ball breasts as she poured it all into her heat vision. "Damnit! I could cut Supergirl in half without trying! You've gotta be hulking up by now!"

"The old one perhaps." Angie's flesh glowed an inch into her chest and breasts for all the fury Ultra Babe unleashed on her. She was starting to show some strain at the onslaught of it all.

Thunder Twin Powers Activate!

It was nothing to Angie now. She relaxed her chest, drawing into her the gigawatts of heat energy Ultra Babe was pouring out. The flame fell from the sky above her and her flesh stopped glowing translucent.

"Oh my god, she's absorbing it!"

"Damn you!" Ultra Babe's eyes flickered over Angie's breasts, now diminutive by comparison to her own. Nothing. Angie walked to her like she was shooting her with a flashlight.

"I don't want a repeat of last time, Ultra." Angie caught Ultra Girl by the wrists and squeezed until Ultra Babe winced and fell to her knees to the sound of her wrist bones cracking. "Can we talk?"

"Fuck." Ultra Babe winced in pain. "I was just playing."

"Come along now." Angie picked Ultra Babe up by the waist and threw her over her shoulder. She could feel Ultra Babe struggling against her, but Angie was just over a Kryptonian exponential stronger and the Ultra Babe couldn't even tickle her.

She leapt into the air and a moment later landed behind a mountain of hay bales behind a darkened barn, far out into the countryside.

"Damnit!" Ultra Babe paced breathing through her teeth for the few seconds it took for her broken wrists to heal. "You didn't have to embarrass me like that."

"You started it." Angie remained stern and powered far beyond Ultra. "What the hell were you thinking cutting up with the heat vision like that?"

"Supergirl's a pussy." Ultra Babe pouted on a hay bale in frustration. "You shouldn't be wearing that. What would you feel if you saw me dress up like Batgirl?"

"I wouldn't say anything." Angie shrugged. "If you want to play Batgirl?" She thought about it for a bit. "I'd probably bring the popcorn-no wait … that's a bad idea. If folks think Batgirl's got your powers, then real Batgirl would get splattered if you ever left. But that's nothing to do with me dressing up as Supergirl! I have all her powers! Sure I have a lot more, but what if I just want to play it cool for a while?"

"That's just stupid." Ultra Babe tossed a hay bale at her.

Angie blew a kiss that exploded the hay bale and sent the whole lawn of it spinning in a tornado right across where Ultra Babe sat.

"Pthew." Ultra Babe spat out hay. "Look, what good is all that power if you're not going to hulk up and use it? I mean comeon! Half the world is just standing around hoping for another hit of that big bang cosmic orgasm you lit off with last month!"

"That was a mistake."

Thunder Twin Powers Deactivate!

"That was rapture!" Ultra Babe blinked into Angie's face, peering intently. "Do you even know how to do that again?"

"Yes." Angie sighed. "It's just way too dangerous. At that power level I could decimate half the solar system if I sneezed wrong."

"Goddesses don't sneeze wrong." Ultra Babe ran her finger around the scoop cut of Angie's Supergirl top. It took a while. "Besides, Supergirl can sheer off a county and toss it into space if she tried hard enough. I'm strong enough to crack the planet in two. Stopping my heat vision like that … you must be-"

"I'm as strong as Supergirl, no stronger unless I want to be."

"Then why don't you ever want to be?"

Angie turned away. "You've never been human have you."

"No." Ultra Babe shrugged. "So? What good is being human?"

Thunder Twin Powers Deactivate.

"So you have no idea how strong you really are." Angie turned back and flexed a mountainous bicep. "Look." Angie returned in a blink with an old pig-iron tractor, lead filled tires and all in one hand. "This is not weak! I'm insanely strong! A human can barely turn the steering wheel on one of these things … ." Angie took the tractor by the frame rails and pulled off a few quick greasy reps. "Its nothing to me, and this is as weak as I can get!"

Ultra Babe strutted up behind the tractor.


She put it into high orbit with a finger flick. "You're not living in the human world anymore, Galaxy Girl. Nor even in a paranormal world. Sure humans wet their panties all day long drooling to be Supergirl. She's a heavy hitter for street level, even the paranormals fear her, granted. But we're so far beyond that, you and me."

"And who else?"

"That's the problem."

"You killed them."

"There never really were any." Ultra Babe sat on a bale of hay so hard the fields rolled with the shockwave, kicking trees off the tops of he hills in all directions. "Until you came along, I thought I was it. Superman, Captain Marvel, none of them were ever much more than Supergirl's level. I've been pretty much a virgin until that night you came along. That was my first real orgasm, nobody else could really do it for me."

Angie hunkered down behind her enormous breasts. "There's more to life than sex." She picked up a stone and turned to watch the farmer's old truck round over a distant hill, coming to investigate. "But everybody's fixated on sex since that one pop."

A flick of her wrist and Angie cracked the old farmer's engine block and sent him in his truck flipping back fifty feet out back over the horizon.

"That one pop, as you call it, was more sex than I've had-than the world has ever had at once-ever. Look, I probably don't just have to have it at that pan-galactic level, and I'm not saying fuck the world to a crisp, but can you just give me a hit every now and then? Do me a solid, goddess-sized solid fuck from time to time? I'm really having a hard time thinking about much else lately without it."

"You told me you can crack the Earth in two, and you're begging me for an orgasm?"

"Out in space then." Ultra Babe pressed her breasts into Angie's-painfully. Ultra Babe raised an eyebrow at the ease she was able to press into her with, and the pained expression on Angie's face. "Do I have to beat it out of you?"

Thunder Twin Powers Activate!! ACTIVATE!


Angie pumped her breasts so hard she sent Ultra Babe skidding for a five-mile furrow, crumbling in thunder into an outcropping of granite. Ultra Babe was hands-on her a moment later.

"Woo! Feisty tonight after all!" She gripped Angie's nipples like a bear trap and squeezed unimaginably hard. "Milk it out of you then?" She licked her lips at the building sparks in Angie's breasts.

"Stop it." Angie was so invulnerable that nothing Ultra Babe could do could hurt her-but just that mind-bogglingly sensitive. Angie could feel herself hulking out into Ultra Girl's shaking hands, and the building wave of orgasm swelling behind that.

"Come on, just a little hit-"

"No!" Angie pulled the quarter off the chain on the hem of her skirt. "Damnit! Don't make me-"

"Quarter for your thoughts now?" Ultra Babe wrapped her legs around Angie. "I can feel it coming within you-" Indeed the very grass and rocks all around them sparked from the energies growing within Angie's body.

"No!" Angie flipped the coin-except that she was goddess strong at the time.

It rocketed like lightning into space, blinked spinning into the void.

"No what?" Ultra Babe rode Angie's writing body of muscle. "You've been human, haven't you. You've fantasized about paranormal-Kryptonian sex, the power, the oceans of passion unleashed, the super strength, super speed, thermo-nuclear ORGASMS-" She pulled Angie's Supergirl top down and bit the tip of Angie's now foot-ball sized nipple hard and blew a blizzard's worth of super cooled hurricane over her breast. "You WANT this-you NEED this-even more than I-"

The quarter lodged in its own crater on the moon-heads.


Wages of Sin


Mel stood up, dizzy. It felt like floating. It was floating.


She tossed back her butt-length mane of golden curls and looked at herself in the mirror as she drifted two feet off Jen and Angie's dorm room floor.

Oh hell yes.

In a blink of a thought she righted herself and struck a midair power pose.


Her figure was flawless. She could feel how granite hard her flesh was, every strand of muscle sliding smoothly over every impenetrable bone, her curves where her muscles glided, and nowhere else … well, with two enormous exceptions.

She ran her finger from her moist lips down her neck, over the expanse of her breast. Her flesh seemed to leap to attention at her touch. Her body didn't bulk out when she flexed, just hardened like sand giving way to wind worn stone, every muscle sliding into hard relief.


She gave herself a turn.

Her hips and ass looked vacuum packed. She gave herself a spank-


A shockwave ripped through Jen and Angie's room, blowing out the window, splintering the mirror off the back of the door, knocking pictures off the wall, exploding light bulbs …


Ok, now she was in deep kimshee. She knew where the RA kept the spare fluorescent bulbs, the window she could probably find in the maintenance yard … She absently peered across the street, through the building's concrete interior, and found a crate of spare dorm windows. She carefully picked up the pictures and hung them again, straightening them as she floated over the beds and desks. Probably shouldn't be handling glass powered up. She drifted out the now open window and kicked over the maintenance yard's fence. Best to take this thing-

Did I just look through walls?

Where did-

She landed, puzzled, feeling her neck for the choker.

It wasn't there.

Must have knocked it off.

Guess I didn't need it.

She reached around to pull the red tag off, but it was gone.

Huh. Must have to take off the outfit.

She slipped off her cape and hung it over a corner of the big steel shipping container she'd seen the spare windows in. No effect.

She slipped her boots off and gave her still huge chest a waggle.

She didn't feel that either. The five ton steel container rattled noisily.

Shit! She grabbed it so hard she left fingerprints in the steel corner rails.


She grinned darkly and snuggled her enormous breasts around in the blue spandex uniform.

Easy girls … don't hurt 'em.

Oh fu-

Her nipples shot bolts of pleasure into her spine at the sliding of her uniform over them.


She licked her lips and let the container go.

Very nice.

She slipped her top off slowly, savoring every bolt of the lighting storm it set off in her breasts.

She had to keep an odd hold on herself from within to keep her spine from rattling from the reverb. She clamped down hard on her crotch, lest it light up too.

Quivering, she opened her eyes again.

This doesn't feel like powering down … must be the skirt.

She could feel her nipples hardening at the thought of gallivanting around as the topless Super Girl, her skirt flapping about like a matador's cape as she fought crime through the-

She slid the skirt off down her long, smooth, marble legs.

The sensation sent chills over her skin-but her knees just refused to go weak.

Hmmm … .

She nodded to herself.

Took me a while to wake up. Perhaps it takes a while to wear off … .?

She ripped the padlock off the old steel container, followed by the heavy steel doors before she stopped at her own reflection in the stacks of spare window panes.

Oh my god.

Her naked reflection had always been like a deformed fawn, fleeing meekly in a wobble at the first sign of a mirror. The view that greeted her seemed to ravenously devour her attention. Her new appearance tried to consume the whole mirror defiantly, every curve taut, every inch of her seemed clenched for battle, or sex-or both. Her mane of fire-red hair curled around her like a mane coon lover, her lips-

Her fingers rose to touch her neck.

The black choker was still there in her reflection, but it escaped her fingers.

She wasn't wearing one.

Her fingers searched over her neck, but found nothing but muscle, tendon, and veins.

She'd been branded with it.

It was tattooed beneath her skin.

Oh shit.

Her heart took a swan dive.

There'd be no fixing the room.

There'd be no point to it.

She couldn't remove Angie's choker.

She was probably so invulnerable, it couldn't be removed with laser surgery either.

All hope of hiding her pilfering vanished in a puff of smoke as her gaze melted a hole in a whole rack of spare windows.

She leapt into the air in a panic-and stopped.

Ok … get a grip girl.

Get a grip … SUPER GIRL.

She slipped her skirt up her legs and swung it around straight.

What am I afraid of?

Her boots went on like soap.

I've probably got as much power as Angie does.

She braced as she slid her enormous breasts into the blue spandex top, her frame shuddering from the pleasure of touching herself there.

If she gets mad?

She swung her cape around behind her and tossed her hair back.

So what?

Let's see what this baby can-

In a clap of thunder she was in the next county.


The wreckage of Club Galaxy was in full swing at her feet sprawled across the Hollister airport runway.

My turn.


Hanging Cliff: The Editor's Page.


Granted: this story has about as much of an ending as any other serial comic book: always trying to sell the next issue. Let's review the foreshadowing for those of you who were … distracted:

-An alien battle fleet is on its way.

-There's an anti-kryptonian society afoot who's secret is unraveling.

-There's a growing population of super girls and a growing shortage of super men.


At this point I owe you two things: a push over the 30,000-word marker as promised, and a peek at next issue. Let's flip it over and spin on the villain side of things, shall we?


… … … … …


The world … enhanced.


Club Galaxy … became.


An infinite power … granted.


What dreams must be … linger.


Chaos … awakens.



"I have come curiously.

Close to the end

Beneath my self-indulgent pitiful hole

Defeated, I conceded."


Two titanium dragons entwine in mortal combat. Fire and lightning scour debris from the cavern wall. They writhe about, scales sparking over one another in drifts of gold and jewels like water. Spells are cast between them, winding in a dozen ancient tongues in languages that scorch spirals of ancient text into the air about them. The larger prevails. The smaller is gated away. The cave dims to black save the flaming eyes of the elder.


Galaxy 2: Dragon


"Move closer

I may find comfort here

I may find peace within

The emptiness, come closer."


The younger great worm lands hard, bleeding, and still smoking in a forest gully, skittering to a hissing stop like a house-sized cockroach. He hisses steam over his shoulder at the thunder of the distant mountaintop and rips loose an angry roar to shake snow from the trees all around. A trio of wood nymphs freezes in terror at his feet. Two escape his wrath, the third pinned in a cobra snap beneath his cart-sized talon. She resigns to her only defense. Brushing her hair back, her other hand coos gently down his steely talon, tasting the steaming blood still running down it.


Written by White Paw.


"It's calling me.

It's calling me.

It's calling me.

It's calling me."


The mountain forest blazes with the colors of spring, all except one gully, frozen in winter. The nymph wails in pain, great with child, inconsolable by her two sisters. Her wailing fades into the forest. Snow falls in chunks from the trees as they wither to brown and black around the gully. A rapscallion youth leaps through the underbrush in a panic, splashing through streams, skids into the blackened gully and holds his breath. A minute later the village lynch mob grinds through the forest with pitchforks and torches., passing the gully by in their deliberate march. He waits ten minutes more before risking a breath. He starts to leave when he notices the football-sized egg.


Screenplay by White Paw


"And in my darkest moment

Feeble and weeping

The moon tells me a secret.

A confidant"


The youth's tinker's wagon stands by the gate of a forest wizard's tower. The boy and the old man barter over roots, stones, exotic pelts from far distant lands. The egg comes into play. The deal heats. A large sack of the old man's coins deadens the table. The youth shrugs and turns to leave with the money. The egg cracks. The boy sneaks a peak at it over the wizards suddenly adoring shoulder-and a dagger in his back. Sun sets on the young tinker and his cart, as he sneaks a peek under the blanket covering the birdcage.


Produced by White Paw


"As full and bright as I am

This light is not my own and

Familiar light reflections

Pass over me."


Mountains, bridges, rivers, forests, and deserts grind beneath the cart's wheels. Solace beckons from the far side of the world. The young girl grows like fire and eats like a carnivorous horse. She outgrows the birdcage in a week. He clothes her jealously in heavy cloaks and hoods, brings her stolen food at risk of life and limb. One night he scampers through their forest camp and tries to pick her up, but she is stubbornly immovable. He pleads with her to leave but she does not understand. The village lynch mob breaks through the brush and surrounds them. He tries to fast talk his way out but their jaws are set. She removes her hood and illuminates them with a childlike innocence and her goddess-like beauty. Jaws fall slack. Axes and pitchforks fall to the ground.


Art Direction by White Paw.


"The source is bright

And endless sheen

The source that

Makes the whole black

Without her we are

Lifeless satellites, drifting"


The group of them have a good chuckle at the back of the larger cart. The youth writhes around the front of the carts with the reins of the new horse, his eyes green. She pats them on the back and mounts the cart beside him with a huge bag of coins. She plants a kiss ten years too wicked for her age on him, flips up her hood and blows the horse a kiss. The villagers wave them goodbye like family. Later that night they are welcomed at a high mountain temple of Eastern persuasion. The monk's hospitality and soup are both warm. He looks around nervously as she lowers her veil to eat. The monk seated across from her drops his spoon, shaking in awe. A moment later the monastery's worth of them lie prostrate on the floor in silent worship of her. The grandmaster taps his staff on the hardwood floor and commands them all out. He faces her and the tinkerer alone, grimly … and bows.


Cinematography by White Paw


"And as I pull my head out

I am without one doubt

You want to peer down here

Survey my narcissism."


The young girl and the blindfolded master spar in the monastery's walled garden The rogue lurks among its dorms, trading with the monks exotic recipes for basic training in their arts of war and meditation. By the time the Empire's men come calling with their wanted posters, the rogue answers the door, unrecognized in monk's garb, his aging head shaven. She has grown and blossomed a young woman and restless between the master's training in the hidden garden and the rogue's bedchambers. She clutches her cloak and robes daily with ever sharpening claws. The monks too grow restless in her company. One snowy morning courtyard she answers acolyte jeers, flinging off her cloak and accepting the challenge. They twitch and fall to their knees bleeding out their eyes, slain at the sight of the force of nature of her beauty.


Special Effects by White Paw


"I must crucify the ego

Before it's far too late

I pray the light lifts me out"


She withdraws to the rogue's bedchamber, shaken. He exchanges harsh gestures, unable to budge her but tears her cloak off in anger. He paces as she recoils in a dark corner. He gathers their few possessions in a huff, stuffing their now ancient traveling pack. The grandmaster in his blindfold throws open the curtain in anger. The door light frames her beauty in the evening sun, enough to spark through the old rouge's eyes as he turns, twitches, and falls dead in her arms. For a long moment she cries at the moon. The grandmaster holds his ears, wincing-the spins out of the doorframe to avoid the stream of fire that follows him out. Her eyes glaze over bronze in rage, spines lifting from the smooth sheen of her finely scaled skin. The old grandmaster crouches against the timber wall, tightens his blindfold, slips a pair of war fans from his sleeves.


Sound Design by White Paw


"Before I hide away

Before I hide away

Before I hide away

Before I hide away"


Her singed and tattered cloak flaps around her in the cold mountain air. She walks grimly, her figure silhouetted against the fire of the burning monastery behind her, rolling molted flakes of her scales about in one hand, the grandmaster's bloodstained beads in the other. One night in the forest proves too much as she is awoken at arrow's end by a patrolling band of wood elves and shown the way out. She turns a tattered cloak to the mountain caves and open mines in search of solace. The drow queen takes a turn in her new shimmering armor by torchlight. With a nod the girl is escorted to the root-tangled drow forge. Heavy, soot-covered blacksmiths pause at the breath of fresh beauty in their midst. Her eyes scan the room as she licks her lips.


Layout by White Paw


"So crucify the ego

Before it's far too late

And leave behind this place

So negative and blind and cynical"


Evenings by candlelight in the company of the drow court wizards over armor and its enchantment – and wizards and theirs. She greets the high magistrate by night as a shimmering trophy chained to his desk. By mornings she studies the tomes of his library while he sleeps. Afternoons she works the forges by hand, her scales glistening ruby as she draws and shapes metal with neither tongs, hammer, nor apron, her bare hands in blazing coals as if they were river stones. The forgemen take her well in arms as they "discuss" metal and curve, edge and hilt. The drow queen leers from a higher vantage, but glides her finger silently down the sparkling razor's edge of her new blade.


Based on a short-format entry by White Paw


"And you will come to find

We are all one mind

Capable of all that's imagined

And all conceivable"


The dwarven camps fall by torchlight to the new drow phalanx, dwarven axes mere sparking trivia to the drow's new shimmering scale. The girl watches the drow queen ascend the stone-hewn under mountain throne bitterly. Her stomach churns at the blood soaked flagstones of the great hall. She turns to take her leave. The dark queen forbids, but the girl tosses aside the royal pikesmen like kindling. The queen stands in anger, casting furiously. Columns of lightning sweep across the hall and scour the girl.


Costume Design by White Paw


"So let the light touch you

So that the words spill through

And let the past break through

Bringing out our hope and reason"


The girl turns to face the queen, unmoved. Her scales spark sapphire, her eyes blinking through her twelve lids. Scorched ashes of her robes fall to seared flagstone at her feet. Spines now covered in amber glowing runes now lift from her bare skin. The royal guard stutter, frozen as the queen calls forth a tattooed troupe of blind wizards from a tribe the girl has never seen. The girl whispers in twelve voices, singing the air around her in a rainbow of runes. The queen and her chorus chant as one, drumbeat upon drumbeat of blakerune building a ring that circulates ever thicker over the entire hall. The girl leaps like a spear, her wings snapping out like switchblades in a flaming screech, a comet of smoldering runes in her wake. The queen smirks and the ring falls like the ceiling upon her mid-flight. Six rings shatter like ice upon the chandelier of the girl's runes, but the seventh, eighth, ninth … cinch to her like bolos, spinning her struggling into nothingness as the room clears of all but smoke and flares of black flame.


Powered by Vagabond Eye


"Before we hide away

Before we hide away

Before we hide away

Before we hide away" – Tool, Reflection




Las Vegas, Nevada. Tony fiddles with the monitor, all of them are blinking to white fuzz. He picks up his radio and whispers. "Alright folks, brace brace brace. We got something serious going down, video's on the fritz, lock down the floor and all tills."


"Shit." He stood from the security console, strapped on his gun belt and rushed out the door, ordering three other security guards with him from the break room.

The weather … changed. Black clouds swirled around the Luxor's skybeam, sparking purple with their own amber thunder over the giant black glass and steel pyramid.

Tony exploded out onto the main promenade with his team. The sea of carnival lights and neon tinkle was choppy, sparking on and off across the entire casino. Guests and staff were all looking about and to each other, frustrated by the inconvenience of it all.

"Jack, run pass off the close order to the tables." Tony began barking orders. "Bill and Alan, lock down the exchange. Marty and Phil, run to the 'caliber, call this in from there, we need city PD in here now! Alice!" He tossed her a heavy ring of keys. "Lock down the perimeter, nobody in or out I don't say so! Take Chan with you!"

Tony ran over to the main entrance, his eyes circling the flickering interior of the hotel. "Come on you bastards … make your move."

"Tony?" Mary called him over from the registration desk. "Everything ok?"

"Power's cut, video and radio's jammed." Tony's eyes never left scanning the ceiling, the doors, the casino stairs. "But we're covered. I've good people where it counts and PD will be here in a minute for the rest. Nobody's getting away with anything today."

"Should we evacuate?" Mary glanced about nervously. "I mean for guest safety and-"

Tony stared at her blankly.



Why the hell would terrorists hit a casino? Even a big one?

Folks in Las Vegas only want two things: one for the senses, the other for the wallet.


The building jolted.

And the first you can't steal with dynamite.

"Shit." Tony grabbed the marble front desk for balance. "Explosives?"

A shaft of blackness speared down the skybeam, shattering its glass housing and lancing through the roof of the casino, clean through the promenade to hit like a hammer on the lower casino.

Tony looked up in time to see glass and debris falling like snow through the gaping hole in the pyramid's apex. His heart sank as he stood and drew his firearm. "Freaks. I should have known."

He raced down the stairs to the lower casino, gun drawn.

Could have been worse. Could have been swing shift. As it was the casino was fairly deserted, a few old ladies and sweating middle management still haunted the maze of slots and tables, but most the guests were asleep in the rooms above this time of day.

Tony ran through the rat-maze of slot machines to get to the center promenade. This was wrong. This was all wrong. Silence and chill fog are just so wrong in a casino. A few sparks lit the low ceiling in spots, enough for him to find his way to the crater of broken slot machines and tables in the middle of the lower casino.

Something moved in the middle of it.

This was no meteorite.

"Alright, that's far enough!" Tony called out, his back to a machine, gun at the ready. He knew the machines were built bulletproof, but bombproof, or proof against whatever this thing was packing? He just had to maintain control of the situation until the PD arrived. Act like he's in charge, regardless. "Let's just put the pieces back together from here, shall we?"

The thing hissed like a steam engine and stood.

"I said that's far enough! Sit!" Tony rolled over, popped up and fired a warning shot.

He wasn't the best shot.

The dim glimpse he'd gotten of it, it seemed rather like a steaming cocoon, a good six feet tall, wrapped up and spiked center casino. He'd paused and watched his 'warning shot' glance right through its shell. He could have sworn he saw the thing's eye peering back at him through the hole before the hole healed and closed over a moment later.

Run fast stupid. He dropped, back to the overturned machine. They don't pay enough for this. Frakking pod people. I'm about to be a first meal.

The scent of gun smoke does stupid things to a man. He pulled back the hammer and dug in. "Like that? Eh? Plenty more now, so sit tight!"

"Holy shit!" Tony's eyes rolled at the sound of a half-inebriated tourist struggle to his feet other side of the creature. "Damn woma-"


There was a rush of wind over the top of the machine. Tony whirled back up and started firing. "I said"




Whatever it was moved like a shadow over another machine. Tony couldn't tell if he'd hit it or not.

Damn. Tony checked his clip nervously and clacked it back in. What the hell am I doing? He heard the sound of belt buckles whipping out, material tearing. Run, you idiot! You're frigging next!

"The doors are chained, you're not getting out of here!" He called out. "PD will be here inside a minute!"

He probably couldn't outrun whatever that was anyway. Best to hold out, or die trying, boots on.

She landed in a crouch right on his lap. The fat old tourist's shirt buttoned over her like a tent, his size 52 slacks cinched up around her narrow waist, silver hair cascading down all around Tony as he snapped his gun to her face in a panic.



She was bigger than a pair of his bowling balls. She had a face he'd swear he'd known all his life and would never forget – but couldn't begin to describe. The touch of her hair over him felt like dew. She wore the most shimmering smooth body paint he'd ever seen. And those eyes … bronze-no wait, emerald, no, bl-frak! How many eyelids does this chick have?

That's just plain up-the-spine kinda creepy.

Other things about Tony were creeping up-like his blood pressure … in his ears.

"Zitsten ma?" She had the voice of a wind chime, and made about as much sense.

Great. Chinese.

She was still smoking and reeked of a forest fire through cedar.

Not a bad smell, he supposed.

He tried to shift out from under her but she was built like a bronze statue. He couldn't budge her.

She gave him a disappointed look and reached for his gun.


Oops. Shit.

He'd gotten excited.

No splatter? Gawd I'm a bad sh-

She just sat there on him slyly and pouted. She wiped her mercury blood from the scratch on her cheek, licking it off her hand as the wound vanished.

Oh fuck. That's not body paint. That's some kind of freak armor …

Oh fuck. He watched her crumple his firearm one-handed and drop it in a lump on the thinly carpeted floor.

Should have run stupid. He gave her a look over in the sparking dim light.

Glad I didn't.



<all that chick needs now is a nice, grisly Harley. :)


Want more? Hey! Buy the rights!

But seriously, Vaggy's spent for the time being.

We figure you are too.


Sleep warm and in good company.

Until we read again, beloved.


-White Paw.>

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