Jilly Milly – Chapter 08
Written by marknew742 :: [Monday, 07 March 2005 13:47] Last updated by :: [Friday, 21 June 2013 14:56]
Superboy was waiting at the carnival, which was in a field just to the east of Smallville about a mile away from his farm. He'd turned down his mother's offer to drive him there and wait with him in the car until Jessica arrived – that would be too embarrassing! Then he brushed aside her request that he not be home “too late.” Why, he'd never had a curfew, and super-powers or not, he was not going to start now! Besides, even though the residual amount of power he still had from kissing Jill seemed to be slowly wearing off, he was feeling much better than he had been, and the brisk walk to the carnival didn't tire him at all. He scanned the crowd for people he knew and chatted with a few classmates while he waited for Jessica to arrive, and then, seeing her, walked toward her as she got out of her mother's old car. She was wearing a brown cardigan and gray skirt. She smiled excitedly as they walked to the entrance, and put her arm in Superboy's.
“It's nice to see you again. You seem stronger, Clark. I'm glad, because I don't think I could carry you like last time,” she said.
“Oh? You're not getting sick again, are you?”
She shook her head. “Uh-uh. I think I'm just returning to normal.” She laughed. “Maybe Superboy's blood made me a little super for awhile, but it's pretty much gone away. I'm only a regular girl now, but I'll tell you, for someone who was as ill as I was, I have NO complaints! I'll leave the super-powers for Superboy.”
A little of the thrill Superboy felt seeing her again leaked out of him. Then he thought if Jessica lost her powers, maybe Jill was losing them too. She hadn't mentioned developing any more super-powers. Maybe she'd plateaued, and maybe his would soon come back!
“What are you thinking, Clark? You have such a funny look.”
“Have you spoken to Superboy lately? Have you thanked him for me?”
“Uh, he hasn't been around. But I haven't forgotten. I'll do it as soon as I see him.”
“It's strange isn't it. Usually you read about his exploits in the paper at least every other day. I hope he's all right. Wow! Look at all this. I haven't been to a carnival since I was so young. I just want to try everything.” She watched the Whirl-a-Gig zoom past. “Well, maybe not everything. I just ate!” She smiled at Superboy. “But you go on it, if you like. I'll watch you.”
“No, that's ok. We should do something together. How about the Ferris wheel?”
“Sure.” They walked together through the midway. Jessica stopped to watch a man try to knock down the milk cans for a prize. “You know, that blue doll is so cute. Can you give it a try, Clark?”
“Sure,” he said. As Superboy, he could have knocked all of them down with one throw. And even though he was feeling better, he still had only a shadow of his former strength. He picked up the ball, which looked like an ordinary softball but felt half as light. Was his strength coming back, or was it a carnie trick? He'd have to see. Superboy hurled the first ball at the cans, hitting the one on the bottom left and toppling three over.
“Good one, Clark!” Jessica said. He grinned, pleased with what he could do even without his super-powers. Three left. He threw again and hit what had been the middle can on the bottom, knocking it down and the one on top of it.
“You're good!” she said. This was fun. He readied himself to throw-
“Hey, young man, stay behind the tent. No leaning.” The carnie stepped in front of him.
“I wasn't leaning!”
“I say you were. And who's running this game, sonny?”
“Clark, don't argue with him. You're doing fine. Just try.” Jessica said.
Superboy fumed. The game was hard enough without the interference. He moved back a couple of inches. “Is this ok with you?”
“Sure, if you don't try to move up again when you throw. Just watch yourself. I'll be watching too.”
This whole game was crooked. If he had his superpowers he'd … He calmed down. One thing at a time. He wanted to win that prize for Jessica and show the carnie too. He threw the last ball hard, but it hit the edge of the can and slid off, just making it wobble.
“Awww, just not strong enough. But nice try son. Give it another go. Three balls for a dollar.”
Superboy glared at the carnie. Jessica took his arm. “You did really well. You would have won too, if he hadn't made you move back.”
“I should have won. I'm sorry.”
“Oh, come on. It was fun. I liked watching you try. You really must be feeling better! Let's go on that Ferris wheel.” She took his hand and walked toward it.
On the way, Superboy saw Timmy Lowen, Johnny Nash and Bobby Allen coming toward them. He waved. “Hi Johnny.”
They stopped. “Hey Clark. What are YOU doing here? You never come to these things.”
“Yeah, don't you have homework?” Timmy said.
“I, uh, finished it. This is Jessica. She lives near Chester. Jessica, this is Johnny, Timmy and Bobby.”
“Hi,” she said shyly.
“Whoa. Big town girl coming to little Smallville,” Bobby said, winking at Superboy.
“Yeah, well, we're going over to the Ferris wheel,” Superboy said, putting his arm around her.
“The Ferris wheel! You better hold on to her tight, Clark, so you don't fall out!” Timmy teased. “We're going to the Monster Rockercoaster, but that would be too scary for you Clark, wouldn't it?”
“Clark wanted to go, but I didn't,” Jessica said, defending him.
“He did?” Timmy said. “Then he can come with us later!” They walked away, saying, “Woof! Woof!” loudly and laughing.
Superboy hoped the either she hadn't heard it or thought it wasn't directed at her. Kids could be so mean. He looked at her and she was blinking; her face seemed tense. “They're not exactly my friends,” Superboy explained.
Jessica nodded. “I guessed that. I know I'm not very pretty. I hope it doesn't embarrass you – being with me.”
“Oh no! Jessica, you ARE pretty!” He looked into her eyes, which were wet. Her eyes were very sweet, definitely her best feature. Sure she didn't have breasts like Jill's, but she had so many good qualities.
“You're … very kind, Clark.” She impulsively gave him a quick kiss.
Superboy's heart skipped a beat, and he anxiously searched himself for some effect from the kiss, but if there was one, it was too faint for him to detect. Another disappointment. He forced a smile to hide it and bent down to kiss her and try again. “Clark!” she said, pulling away slightly. “We're in such a public place! Come on, maybe they'll stop the Ferris wheel with us on top!” She took his hand and they walked toward it again. Then she stopped pulled him down and whispered, “I hope you don't think I'm a real … prude. You know I am, uh, kind of inexperienced, Clark, and a little nervous.”
“Don't worry about that, Jessica.”
“I mean … you'd tell me if I, uh, I mean, didn't really know how, uh, to kiss right. You wouldn't just laugh at me … or not tell me, would you? I mean I'd want to know so …”
Had he betrayed his disappointment? Superboy smiled at her. “I'd tell you. But I don't really know yet. I guess we'll have to try it some more so that I can decide if you're any good.” He winked.
She laughed. “I should have KNOWN you'd be like that. Well, I do hope we get stuck on top – for a long time.”
They threaded their way through the crowd when Superboy suddenly stopped short. “What is it Clark?” He was looking at the sign for one of the sideshow attractions. “Gudrun – the World's Strongest Girl,” she read. “Imagine! Do you, uh, want to stop in there, Clark?”
“I-I was just wondering. There's a girl, Gudrun, who causes trouble in Smallville sometimes. I'm just uh curious if it's the same girl.”
“Well, we can go see I guess. But it looks like she's not there yet.” She walked over to the entrance and came back. “The first show starts in about half an hour. We can go after our ride.”
Soon they were settled into their car and the wheel started. Superboy put his arm around Jessica and she snuggled closer to him. “Thanks. I was getting a little cold, but I feel very warm next to you.” She looked outside. “Ooh, look, we can see the house lights. That's your house, isn't it?”
Superboy nodded. “I LOVE being up high like this. It must be so wonderful to fly like Superboy. All those people here look so small. Oh, we've stopped!”
She looked over at Superboy expectantly and he obliged, bending down to kiss her. It was a sloppy wet kiss, but that was fine from his perspective. He put his arm around her and pressed her closer. How different she felt from Jill, whose bosom pressed into him when they'd kissed and who smelled like a garden at first, and then like something strong and mysterious. He liked kissing Jessica, and her body felt soft and warm next to his, but … he didn't feel the passion sweeping through him – and only a faint tingling.
They started moving again. Jessica made a noise and moved away slightly, which was all the room they had in the small car, and Superboy disengaged, just as they were halfway down.
“Wow!” she said. “I, uh, didn't realize you … you're, uh, very good, you know.”
“Thanks,” he replied. “So are you.”
“Really?” she asked, as they went around again. “I … I'm sure I could do better. But thanks. Thanks for everything Clark.” The ride stopped and they got out.
“Do you want something to eat?”
“No, but I'll come with you if you want something.”
“We can just walk around.”
They strolled through the carnival. Superboy waved to people he knew and stopped to introduce Jessica several times. She pointed to the sky and they watched a meteor brighten the sky. She seemed happy. Meanwhile, Superboy felt a difference inside. There was definitely still something in Jessica's blood that was stimulating his powers, but it was nowhere near as much as what he'd gotten from Jill. He felt like trying that milk can game again and started steering her back toward it when she said, “It must almost be time for that show. Do you still want to see it?”
“Oh! I'd almost forgotten. Yeah, let's go.” They walked over. Superboy paid $2 and they went inside the tent and took a seat near the front. Superboy turned around and saw Timmy, Johnny and Bobby elbowing each other.
“Hey,” Bobby said to Johnny, “it can't be the same Gudrun who beat up Superboy and Timmy Tuesday, can it?”
“I don't know,” replied Johnny, “but I heard it's a pretty good show.”
“Yeah, well all I hope is she shows us some tits,” said Timmy. “What's the point of her being a strong GIRL if she doesn't have tits?”
Johnny hit him on the head. “Don't be such a jerk face! If I were you, I'd hope it's not the same girl. Nobody's seen Superboy ever since, so no one's going to bail YOU out.”
Timmy waved his hand in disgust, but checked behind him to make sure he had a clear run to the exit, just in case he needed it.
The tent slowly filled up. There was a stage with some props, a cinderblock and an old VW on the grass next to it.
A man in a plaid jacket stepped onto the stage. “Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you for coming tonight. Johanson Productions is happy to present to you the eighth wonder of the world, the mighty Gudrun – the world's strongest woman.” There were a few snickers in the room. “Yes, you may laugh boys, but would you DARE to test your strength against hers? A mere 18 years old, standing 6'2” and weighing 290 pounds, Gudrun has more strength than four ordinary men, and she's still growing taller and stronger.”
“How can a girl be so strong? Well, Gudrun's father was Sweden's superheavyweight weightlifting champion for ten years. Her mother was a strapping farm girl from Northern Sweden. When Gudrun was born, she weighed 17 pounds and even then had such astounding muscularity that when she was just days old she had begun to walk and at three months could walk on her hands! By the age of five, she already weighed over 120 pounds and could lift her own weight above her head. At the age of 11 she moved with her family to this great State, and, with her father Sven, has been a touring member of the Johanson Carnival ever since, growing up with us in the Carnival as her broader family.”
“And let me tell you, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, turning slightly, his hand covering the side of his mouth as though he were speaking confidentially, “Gudrun IS growing up. Most of her 290 pounds is solid powerful muscle – most, but NOT QUITE ALL. Yes, she has become a young woman as well, and you men will soon understand EXACTLY what I mean.”
Jessica looked at Superboy and frowned. “This isn't what I expected,” she said. Superboy nodded blankly, intensely absorbed in the carnie's pitch, and made no move to go. Jessica sighed and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her small chest unhappily.
“But it isn't just her genes, ladies and gentlemen. We'd all like to believe science explains everything. But the science of genetics cannot explain the extraordinary muscles of Gudrun, muscles so powerful that at the age of 15, she defeated her own father, the mighty Sven, in armwrestling for the first time. Yes, that's right, as a 15 year old girl! And now, three years later, Sven, who in seven years of touring with us and wrestling the strongest men in this country has been defeated just four times, cannot beat his own daughter, even using both arms! I invite you to try your strength against Sven later on, and you will experience, through him, just how unimaginably strong Gudrun is! But don't let me keep her waiting any longer – I couldn't stop Gudrun coming out here tonight even if I wanted to. Here she is, Gudrun!” he said, his voice rising as he stepped off the stage.
There was polite applause and some whooping from Superboy's classmates, some movement behind a curtain at the back of the stage, and then quiet descended on the tent as a thick arm and leg emerged, the arm clothed in a skintight, bright green cotton sleeve, with sparkling sequins, the leg bare until enough of it was visible to show a micro-miniskirt of the same color and material. One voice erupted with an “Oh my god!” but there was no laughter in response.
The audience stared at the astoundingly thick disembodied limbs that danced before them. Her leg then settled on the floor but her arm continued to rise and fall slowly, its already enormous muscles bulging and then subsiding within her sleeve, first her forearm, then her biceps, growing and shrinking in turn, as though they were breathing, or as though someone were pumping air from one muscle to the other and then back again. There was a low, throaty laugh from behind the stage, followed by Gudrun herself, slowly passing through the opening in the curtain, looking very different from the ragged brawler Superboy had seen before. (Johnny Nash whispered, “It's her all right!”) Her red hair was well brushed and it shone in the stage lights as it fell down her shoulders. Her face was calm, her bright green eyes brilliant and piercing, echoing the color of her dress. She walked slowly to the front of the stage, proudly fixing her eyes on each member of the audience in turn, pausing only once, at Superboy. The fluid, feline motion of her walk was like a challenge, boldly displaying her body to the stares of the audience looking up at her, daring them to move or speak. She put her hands on her hips and then slid them up to her waist until she stood still before them, and those who had only focused on her biceps or her legs, particularly those on the sides of the tent, now perceived the depth of her chest too and understood why the presenter had said she was not quite ALL muscle. She pivoted her body slightly from side to side, and her bosom, which undulated slowly beneath her dress, evoked a collective sigh and groan from the men in the tent.
The man returned to the side of the stage and held his hand out toward her. “Six feet, two inches. Two hundred ninety pounds. Hips, 45''. Waist, 25''. Bust … 58''. She's big, isn't she? And you can see it's not all muscle, men. But don't get too excited, men. Don't get any ideas. This girl can take care of herself.” He pointed at her arms. “Biceps, 27''. Think of it, men. Flex your arm. And if you're an average man, and you put your arm together with your neighbor's, maybe the two of you together will measure as large as hers. Of course, that includes the bones in each of your arms, and if you're like most of us, there's some fat there too. Not Gudrun.”
She grinned. “No, not Gudrun, and she's proud of it too. There's no fat on that arm of hers.”
She looked at him and flashed some annoyance. “Oh, oh, she's put out because I've misled you. I told you men to flex your arms. But those measurements I gave you, those are with her arms as relaxed as you see her before you. You're flexed, she's not. It doesn't seem fair does it? You've bunched and tightened your muscles to make them bigger and harder, and she hasn't. It gives you the advantage, right men?”
An awkward silence blanketed the tent. “Well, it doesn't seem fair to me.”
He pulled out a measuring tape and wrapped it around his waist. “Thirty-two inches folks. Pretty good, eh? I'm in pretty good shape. That's carnival life for you. Keeps you fit, strong and tough. Yeah, me and Gudrun too.” He looked over at her and swallowed. “Maybe her more than me.”
He pointed down at the audience at Jessica. “Young lady, would you come up here? Would you come up and help me out for a minute?”
Jessica blushed. “Me?” she said softly.
“Yes you. She won't hurt you.” She looked at Superboy, who glanced over at her and nodded inattentively. She stood up. Gudrun looked her up and down, and put her hand over her mouth, barely suppressing a laugh. Then her eyes moved over to Superboy, and she looked at him harder, her eyes fixing on him as Jessica moved through the row and walked up to the stage. The man extended his arm and helped Jessica up the steps and positioned her between Gudrun and himself. The crowd murmured at the contrast between the figures. The man, 5'10'', fit and slim. To his left, Jessica, 5'2'', with her slight bust and wide hips, standing awkwardly on the stage, her head barely reaching Gudrun's bosom. And next to her, Gudrun, looming over her proudly, her body blooming with curves of muscle and breast.
“Your arm please Gudrun.” She smiled and held out her arm in front of Jessica's face. The man measured her biceps. “Hmm. You've been exercising again, Gudrun. Twenty-seven and a half.” Gudrun dropped her arm and the man quickly wrapped the tape around Jessica's waist. She blushed again, too shocked to protest. She turned to move away, but he held her with the tape and quickly announced “Twenty seven inches! Well, I DO know my ladies' measurements, don't I friends?” The audience laughed as he released her and Jessica angrily left the stage. She stood in the aisle, hoping Superboy would join her and leave, but when he didn't get up, she slowly went back to her seat.
“So you see, Gudrun's biceps are LARGER than this obliging young lady's waist, and larger of course than Gudrun's own waist. Can you imagine gentlemen? Some of you have waists larger than mine. Can you imagine having biceps larger than your waist? Or even larger than your girlfriend's waist? I won't talk about your wives. I'm sure no one could have biceps THAT large.” The audience laughed awkwardly, then quieted quickly as he spoke again.
“But wait! We've forgotten something. We're using the wrong numbers. You men are STILL thinking all you have to do is flex your muscles, put two of you together and poof, you're equal to Gudrun. But you're not. Not by a long shot.” He walked over to Gudrun. “Show them Gudrun. Show them what you're REALLY made of.”
Gudrun, who had been listening to his talk with a bored expression, now smiled. She held out her arm, looking down at the large rounded bulge already pushing out her sleeve, tightened her fist and began to flex. The bulge tightened on the sides and grew in the middle, and more stretch marks appeared in the fabric. There was an aaaaaahhhh sound from two spots in the tent and the man stretched the tape around the thickest part of her arm. “Thirty two and a half inches! I KNEW she's been exercising! Now Gudrun, I've TOLD you that just TOO much muscle. It's-”
Gudrun growled at him and tensed her arm harder. The tape slipped in his hand and the stretch marks widened in her sleeve.
“Oh my GOD! Thirty-four inches, ladies and gentlemen! Thirty-four inches of solid, and I mean rock-solid, muscle this girl has in her arm. Imagine the power of her arm, think of what she can-”
She lifted her left arm and started to flex that one too, then squeezed her right arm again, pushing the tape further.
“Thirty-FIVE inches!” he cried out, and then the fabric of her sleeves tore, first in her right arm and then the left, letting the peaks of her biceps show through. He turned to her crossly. “You've done it again, Gudrun, you've ruined your dress again!” She sneered at him and then tensed the rest of her body. Her torso exploded with muscle, quickly stretching and then bursting through her clothes. The audience gasped and stared at her, rapt with attention. She quickly pulled the torn scraps of her clothes off her and peeled the remnants of her sleeves off her arms as if they were gloves, revealing a bikini top and bottom in the same vibrant green. The top was several cup sizes too small and made no pretense of holding her mammoth breasts, only covering her nipples and keeping her breasts in place. The men in the audience groaned with desire and she grinned, enjoying their attention.
The man shook his head. “That Gudrun! Such a show off. Will you give her a hand ladies and gentlemen, a big hand!” There was some applause and a few whoops from the audience. Superboy clapped until he noticed Jessica's sullen expression.
“Come on, Jessica, don't be like that. It's just a show.”
“It's sick, Clark. I'm really surprised at you,” she replied. “Can't we go?”
“Let's wait. It's almost over. I'm sure the next one starts pretty soon.” She sighed and slunk lower in her chair.
The clapping died down. “Thank you. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure you are curious about just how strong Gudrun is. Well, it's hard to say, because every time someone tries to measure her strength, she starts exercising again and just gets stronger. But let's do a little experiment.” He pointed to a man in the front you. “You sir, would you come on stage a moment. Thank you. Now, would you bring that cinderblock over here?” The man lifted up the block with difficulty and carried it across the stage and started to hand it to the presenter. “No, no, don't give it to me. I'd just drop it. Give it to Gudrun.” The man turned and held it out to Gudrun, who kept her hand about four inches above the man's. The man grit his teeth and, his arms trembling, lifted it slowly to Gudrun, who took it from him with one hand and lifted it above her head. The man stared up at her in amazement. “You can sit down now, sir.” Gudrun lifted it up and down several times, the effort tightening but not fully taxing her biceps. “You can see how light the block is for Gudrun, and yet this man, strong as he is, struggled with both his arms to carry it to Gudrun.” She balanced it on her hand now and held the block out from her body, her arm perfectly straight, and slowly lifted it to the applause of the crowd.
She smiled and then held out her other hand too. She tossed the cinderblock in the air and caught it with her other hand, and tossed it back, a bit higher, passing it back and forth until the cinderblock grazed against the canvas top of the tent, catching it easily, her arm bending as the block landed on her hand, her biceps pushing out more and more each time, but never as large as she had flexed it initially. Finally she caught it and held it in front of her, vertically, each palm pressed against the long flat side of the block. “Thank you Gudrun. Very good, thank you.” Gudrun grimaced, her muscles now tensing more, her pectoral muscles flexing, pushing out her bust, until the cinderblock shattered in an explosion of dust, covering the first row of the tent. The crowd gasped and then cheered.
“Isn't that amazing? And now, just to show you one little bit more of what Gudrun can DO with those big muscles of hers, I'd like to ask three of the strongest men in the audience to come up on stage. Don't make me decide FOR you, that's right. Whoa, you folks look like you've been working hard on the farm. And there's a youngster too. I bet he plays football here at Smallville High, am I right? Very good. Now, I want you to stand behind that little car there. Let's have the biggest one see if he can lift it. No? Of course you can't. Nothing to be ashamed of. Well, how about the three of you? That's right, all at the far end please, see if you can get it off the ground. Well, it looks like you're struggling. All right, how about another volunteer?” Gudrun leaned over to talk to him. He nodded. “How about you? You look like you'll just put them over the edge.” He pointed at Superboy, who shook his head. “Come on, try!”
“Thanks, but no, sir,” Superboy replied.
The man shook his head, then pointed to Johnny Nash, who joined the men. Now with the four of them working they comfortably lifted the end of the car in the air. “Very good. OK Gudrun. Now, you take the other end.” There was an anxious ripple through the crowd. He wasn't serious! She looked back at Superboy, smiled and hopped off the stage and put her right hand under the undercarriage of the car and lifted. Her biceps and all the other muscles on the right side of her body exploded in size as the rest of the car slowly moved off the ground until it was level. Then she raised it further, smiling contemptuously as the four men struggled to compensate for the change in balance. She started sliding her hand toward the center of the car, then lifted it still higher and moved the car toward her, tossing it in the air slightly so that it slipped out of their hands while she caught it in the middle. Now she stood, balancing the car above her head, her elbows nearly straight, while the four men, freed of the weight, looked at her in awe and horror.
“Thank you for your help gentlemen. You can return to your seats. Gudrun doesn't need you any more.” Gudrun looked at them with a superior smile and bent and straightened her elbows several times, pressing the car into the air.
“Is there anyone who'll help Gudrun set it down? No?” He pretended to sigh. “No one who'll give this girl a hand? I'm sorry Gudrun. Once again, you'll have to do it yourself.”
Gudrun walked carefully to the side of the stage and bent her knees, then let the car slide off onto the driver's side tires and then walked to the side of the car and slowly lowered the right side. She held up her grease-stained hands to the applause of the crowd and walked back onto the stage until she stood next to the man.
“OK. Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen. Thank you. We have a couple of minutes for questions. You there.”
“Uh, have you ever met a man who's stronger than you?” asked a man in overalls.
Gudrun looked him in the eye. “I thought … Superboy. But now … I think … no.” She smiled privately as the crowd murmured. Many of them had heard about the fight in the schoolyard and, with Superboy still missing were increasingly wondering whether it could possibly be true. Had this Gudrun really defeated the mighty Superboy once and for all?
A teacher from Smallville stood up and asked. “Given the pressures on teenaged girls to be thin and attractive to boys, do you feel you set a positive role model for your generation?”
Gudrun frowned at her. “I … not model … I am … strong woman!”
“Yes, of course you are, but female strength in American culture, no, make that world culture, even in Sweden where you were born, has always regarded the archetypal woman as-”
“Miss, we have very little time here,” the man interrupted. “Yes? The young lady who helped us before?”
Jessica stood up still upset from earlier. “What good do you do with your strength? What's the point?”
Gudrun stared at her, her eyes darting from Superboy and then back to Jessica. An angry look flashed on her face. “Good? I … strong is good … is beautiful … My muscles are … I love having! Want bigger … always bigger!”
The man clapped and the audience joined him. “Thank you Gudrun and thank you ladies and gentlemen. You've been a great audience. Go tell your friends. Gudrun will be here with the rest of Johanson Productions through Monday night. Thank you, and good night.” He and Gudrun left through the rear of the stage.
The crowd murmured and stood up. Jessica took Superboy's arm and pulled him out toward the tent. “That was horrible. Don't you think? I mean, compare her with Superboy, always looking to help people any way he can. She may be strong, but her strength doesn't matter for anything that's important. Do you understand what I mean? Don't you agree?”
Superboy looked down. “Sure I do. I mean, power ought to be used to do good. But, well, it's just entertainment, isn't it? I mean doesn't that have a value too?”
“Well, maybe hers does for SOME people. But it's – I don't know. I mean, it was so base, almost like a striptease act I guess, the way she paraded around in her underwear. YOU liked it, and so did the other men there. But I really don't understand why.” She looked down at her own chest and then looked down further, at the ground. “I could TELL that you were a LOT more interested in her than in me. I thought – but maybe not. It's just – no, maybe I've said too much already tonight. Maybe we should just stop talking about it, ok, before I ruin this evening for both of us.”
Superboy held her hand. “Jessica, I DO understand what you're saying. And I agree. I know her – from things that have happened at the schoolyard. It's not just that she doesn't use her strength for good. She's used it to hurt kids in the town. I guess … I guess I was caught up in the show … it IS exciting, for a guy, but I DO like you, and I've had a really good time tonight.”
She looked at him and smiled, although she was still upset. “Thanks Clark. I did too. I guess … I'm pretty insecure about, you know, my body. I shouldn't judge her so harshly. She must have her own problems that I know nothing about. I mean, other than her speech problems. It must be hard being a girl and being so … different.” They had reached the entrance and she squeezed Superboy's arm. “Oooh, my mother's there already, waiting for me. Do you want her to give you a lift home? I don't think you should overdo it on your first day out.”
Superboy waved at Mrs. Carson. “No – I think the walk would do me good. And I want to try that milk can game again. I'll bring you the stuffed bear on our next date.”
Jessica looked startled at his last remark for a moment, then smiled and impulsively kissed Superboy. He put his arm around her and held her closer, but she broke it off. “Clark! My mother's right there!” She smiled. “And be more gentle with me. Now that you're feeling better … you're really stronger than you look, you know?”
“I'm sorry,” he grinned. “I'll try to remember. Good night.” He watched her get back into the car and then turned and went back inside.
He walked around the midway, tempted by the Ring the Bell game. He WAS feeling stronger, but he didn't really want to jeopardize his secret identity. After all, he WOULD get his powers back. He'd lost them before but he'd always found a way to regain them. He had just about reached the game when Johnny Nash tapped him on the shoulder. “Clark! You're still here. Where's that girl?”
“Jessica? She had to go back home. What about Timmy and Robby?”
“Oh, they were throwing water balloons at some girls. I got sick of it, so I left. Hey, were you serious about going on that rollercoaster?”
Superboy shrugged. “Sure. I'm game.” The ride itself was pretty tame for a boy who, days ago, could fly tight loops of his own around the coaster, but Superboy hung to the bar on all the same to make it look good. After three trips around, the boys got off and bought some hot dogs and walked around the carnival while they ate.
“Hey, you're all right Clark. I really thought you were, you know, kind of a pansy.” Johnny hit him on the shoulder. “But heck, you're more solid than you look. You ought to come out with the guys some time. It'd be fun.”
Superboy rubbed his shoulder, half pretending to be sore. “Yeah, well, sure. Thanks. But go easy on the shoulder, ok?”
“Yeah sure.” They walked away from the crowds and the noise so they could talk. “Hey Clark, what did you think of that Gudrun show? She IS REALLY strong, you know? I can tell you, it was a REAL car she picked up. It's scary to think about it, you know, after the way she beat up Superboy. I mean we're just not safe. She's a total animal.” He chewed on his hot dog. “But you know, she's pretty hot too, in her own way, I guess – if you dress her right.”
Superboy nodded. “What happened that day? I heard about it but I wasn't there. Did she start it, or did Timmy?”
“Well, we were playing ball and she kind of crept up watching us, coming closer, little by little. We saw her, but we didn't think too much of it. You know, we see her around every so often and usually she just goes away. A couple of the guys made some remarks, you know, about her size and her tits – which, god, are bigger than ANY of us had EVER imagined. But this time she kept coming closer and soon she was standing right in left field. We yelled at her to move out of the way, but she just ignored us. I mean, it wasn't long before she was just about ten feet behind the shortstop!”
“Maybe she didn't understand. Maybe she didn't know she was in fair territory.”
“Hey, we TOLD her to move behind the foul line. But all she did was stare at us, and the more we told her to move, the more she just crossed her arms and stood there. Then Timmy, who was playing second, ran out and started screaming at her, calling her a dumb cow and other things. It didn't take much to make her mad and soon she was really whacking him. But that was nothing compared to what she did to Superboy.”
“But Timmy seemed ok tonight. You know how strong she is. She could have killed him if she wanted to. She must have been holding back.”
Johnny thought a minute. “I never thought of it that way, but I guess you're right.” He shook his head. “But man, she wasn't holding ANYTHING back against Superboy. I'd always thought he was way stronger than any normal person could be, but he hit her in the stomach and she looked at him like, 'hey superguy is THAT all you got?'. Man, I just couldn't BELIEVE it. But I guess Superboy has his limits too. I don't know if he's hurt or just embarrassed, but I wish he'd come back. I mean, even if a girl like Gudrun IS stronger than him, it was kind of comforting knowing he was around. Like you'd know that if something was really important, he'd be there to help. It's like, we're all on our own now, you know?” He looked at Superboy. “You know, Clark, everybody says you know him better than anyone else. No offense, but it's kind of hard to understand why he'd pick you to be his best friend. But tell me, if you know, is he gone for good? Is he coming back?”
Superboy sighed. “I sure hope so. I miss him.”
They were near the edge of the grounds. The crowd was thinning now as closing time approached. The lights from the big rides were going off, and some of the carnies were packing up their booths. There was a cold gust of wind, and Johnny shivered. “Well, it's getting late. This field looks kind of creepy when it gets dark, doesn't it? I'm gonna head home. What about you?”
“I think I'll do the same. We can-”
A strong arm gripped each boy from behind. “You … from the school!” Gudrun pulled them to her. She was dressed in blue jeans and a man's flannel shirt, the top three buttons open to make room for her enormous chest, while the fourth barely held.
“Hey, you're hurting me! Let go!” Johnny tried unsuccessfully to pull away and looked up at her in fear. “Wh-what do you want? I didn't do anything to you! Please.”
She set her jaw. “You … beg? You there … always … with others. Hurt ME!”
“Gudrun, let him go. You've shown us tonight how strong you are. There's no need for trouble. I think all the boys understand you better now,” Superboy said quietly but firmly. “Don't make trouble for yourself – and the carnival,” he repeated.
She turned to look at him closely and smiled and nodded slowly. “You … there too. You hide. You the phony.” She thought. “He go. You … with me!” She let go of Johnny, who backed away from her cautiously.
Superboy looked at Johnny. “Go ahead. I'll …” But Johnny was off running before Superboy could finish. Gudrun looked down at Superboy and squeezed his arm more tightly. He grit his teeth and said as calmly as he could, “Gudrun, that hurts.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Your arm … harder now. I take you. You come.” She relaxed her grip slightly and pulled him with her into the field behind the carnival. They walked quickly through a path in the fields, Superboy having to jog a little to keep up with the long strides she made. She said nothing, but looked down at him every so often. After twenty minutes they got to a double-wide trailer at the edge of the woods. “In here,” she said, and pushed the door open. She followed Superboy inside. Her body loomed even larger in the small space, her broad shoulders filling the narrow passageways, the ceiling just inches above her head.
She turned on a light and looked at him closely. “You talk now. You … Superboy.”
“Gudrun, you must be mistaken. I'm Clark Kent. Everybody knows-”
Her eyes flashed with anger and she grabbed him and lifted him in the air, his head grazing the ceiling. “You Superboy!” she said more insistently, “But you … weak still … not super!?” She shook him. “Why you lie? Why you weak?” She shook him harder. “WHY!”
“Gudrun! Put me down!”
“You fight! You make me!” she replied, squeezing his arms more tightly and shaking him. Superboy pushed lightly at her arms. “Bah! So weak! Weak Superboy!” She turned and pinned him against the wall, then growled and threw him out the door and jumped after him, grabbing his ankles so he couldn't run away, then seating herself firmly on his legs and pinning him, holding his chest down with one hand, her body safely out of range of his hands, which hit weakly at her arm. “You lie … still bad! Now … I on top! I punish YOU … liar … toucher!” She closed her big hand into a fist, her muscles bulging and straining the sleeves of her shirt, and held it poised above his crotch. “I crush them. You feel pain? Eh Superboy? You suffer? I hit hard. Very hard! I use big muscle on you!”
“NO!” Superboy cried and desperately bucked her off him. She tumbled several feet and skidded across the dirt. She got up with a broad grin and leapt back at him, tackling him as he was about to get up. They struggled more evenly now, both on their knees trying to push the other down. Her shirt was now pulled open, her breasts exposed and her nipples rigid with excitement. Superboy was fighting with all his strength, using every bit of the energy he'd gained tonight to hold Gudrun at bay. She breathed in huge gulps, her massive chest expanding, her breasts pushing into him.
“You strong … for size … but stronger before,” she grunted, grabbing his leg in a deft wrestling move and forcing him down. She hung over him, her breasts waving above his face. “Your muscles … small. So how you fight me? Where you get strength?” She levered his legs open with hers and held his shoulder down. “I stronger! See? Is better … be big! I love big muscle … big strength! Love big power!” She raised her hand up again to slam it down and crush his balls.
Superboy pushed with all his strength against her leg but could not move her massively muscled limb or break her pin. “No! Don't!! Gudrun, listen! I wasn't trying to feel you!” Superboy yelled. “You misunderstood me.”
She stopped and looked down at him. “Ya? You WERE there? You say you Superboy. Ya!”
“Yes! Yes! I admit it. Please, I was just trying to stop you from hurting him. He – Timmy – is not good but it is wrong to beat him up. I wasn't attacking you!”
She held him down firmly. “Felt you touch. Felt mouth on me.” She stared at him. “Was not so bad.” She licked her lips and studied him. “He … Timmy … very weak.” She looked disgusted and shook her head. “Weak … bad. Superboy not bad. I like … you use strength. Feel good.” She slowly lowered her hand onto his crotch. He twisted his body hard to get away but she held him more tightly and kept him in place. “Your thing … VERY hard. You LIKE Gudrun?” She felt the length of his penis and smiled, then unzipped his pants.
“Gudrun!” He grabbed her massive forearm but could not stop her.
“Not hurt it. Look … touch.” She stroked it gently. “You like breast? You have strength. In body. In heart. But not muscle. I have much strength … and muscle … and breast.” Superboy nodded. “You like muscle … also. I saw. Tonight … and before. You watched. Saw eyes.” She flexed her arm, which bulged against her shirt, straining the fabric. “I … careful. This my shirt. You touch.” Superboy slowly raised his hand to her biceps. “Ya, you push. Feel! Hard?” He nodded. His penis twitched. She released his leg. “You not go?”
“No,” he said hoarsely, his hand touching and caressing her muscle through her shirt.
“You shy. Touch more. Touch breast also. OK?” She bent lower, her large breast covering Superboy's mouth. He put his other arm around her back and pulled her closer and fastened his mouth on her nipple. She took a sharp breath. “Ooooh, ya! Like mouth yours” She slipped her arm under him and lifted him closer, then stood up, holding him in the air next to her. “Oooh. Ya. Your hands good. You touch other breast. You touch me in shirt. Touch all. Ooooh. You like? You like! You have – you have …?” She put her hand over his penis, encircling it with her fingers.
“A condom?” Superboy asked, breaking away for a moment, breathing hard. “No.”
“Con-dom. No condom.” She sighed. “Is ok. You touch more.” She put his hand on her breast. It barely covered a third of it. She walked them back inside the trailer, closed the door and brought them to the bed in the rear. She put him down on it and took off her shirt. “You too.”
“I … I” Superboy stammered, his hands on the snap to his jeans.
“You not … with girls ever?” She smiled. “I show you. I show first.” She shed her shirt and pants, then unbuttoned his shirt and pulled off his pants and shorts. He stared at her body, her huge breasts, free, still round high and firm, and her enormous biceps. His eyes darted around her body, unable to decide where to rest. She feasted on his admiration. “You like,” she said simply, smiling broadly.
“I … I do.”
She held out her hands to him. “You like muscle.”
“Yes. I never thought … but you are beautiful … incredible.”
“Is ok that … I am strong. You like to feel … Gudrun strength?”
“Good. We push.” They stood opposite each other, their arms out. She gripped his hands and pushed. Superboy braced his legs on the floor and pushed back. His muscles tensed while Gudrun's tightened and expanded. Superboy's arms shook with the exertion as she slowly increased the pressure, her muscles growing. “Aaaahh! Ya!” she cried until his arms collapsed and he fell to the floor at her feet. She picked him up and held him in one arm, while her other hand caressed his arms. “You still have strength! Some. Stronger than father. But how? Where is rest of strength?”
He looked down. “M-m-my powers – I've lost them. I was … I was tricked.” He stared at her biceps and touched them, massaged them as he spoke. She flexed, letting him play with and admire her muscle. “I was helping a sick girl, giving her some of my blood – to cure her. The doctor's assistant – another girl – used kryptonite, knocked me out. She took all my blood and gave me hers. Soon my powers started fading. When I fought you,” he looked down, “that was almost the end of them. They're almost gone now,” he finished, barely audibly.
“But you still … have strength?”
“Only a little. Just a tiny part of my super powers. The girl I helped, and the girl who took my powers. Their saliva – spit – it gives me back a little strength.” He looked in her eyes. “Maybe my powers will come back. Maybe. I don't know how to get them back. Maybe I'll just be weak – like Timmy.”
“No! Not like Timmy! You strong in heart. You will be strong!” she said. “You find how. You smart!”
He looked her in the eyes and reached up for her neck and kissed her. She held him close and they lay on the bed, Gudrun looking at Superboy while he explored her body, feeling each muscle with his fingers and then his lips as she slowly flexed and moved them. He sampled her breasts – their weight, their solidity, their softness, the changes in her nipples.
“You know how a girl is pleased?” Superboy looked at her, embarrassed. She took his hand between her legs and let him gently feel the folds of her skin, her vagina and her clitoris. Her shudders taught him what she liked. “The tongue … even more better.” He nodded and buried his face between his legs, exploring again, his arms gripping her thighs and then her breasts as she loudly climaxed several times, until she lifted his head out and covered him with kisses. “You beautiful. You beautiful.” she said, again and again and held him tightly, beaming at him, her green eyes practically glowing. “You make … you make me … feel like super. Now, I show you!”
She moved her mouth slowly down his neck and chest, licking him all the way and then settled on his penis. He groaned loudly as she fastened herself to him, using her tongue and lips to pleasure him more and more vigorously.
Suddenly he cried out “NO! DON'T!” but she continued, more and more quickly.
The feelings were building in him, irresistibly. He tried to get up, but she held him too tightly, her huge steel hard muscles too strong for him. She touched his face gently, stopping for a moment to say “Ssshh! No be shy. I like … give you tinglings! You enjoy now!” She returned to his penis attacking it with even greater enthusiasm. He started again to protest, but his feelings overwhelmed him; his individual senses merged into a single torrent of pleasure as her tongue vanquished his very will to resist.
“I'm going to come!” he cried. “Nooo!” Gudrun held him more tightly and clamped her lips tightly around his penis as he came in a flood, shaking as he spurted. She neatly swallowed his cum, continuing to lightly lick and suck on him, teasing out the last drops until he'd finished, then held him, kissing his body as she slowly made her way up to his face. He moaned softly as she propped herself up over him, letting her massage his face with her breasts.
“You tired? Boys tired after. OK you sleep,” she said, running her hand along his chest and his arms. “But I feel good. Strong!” She smiled. Then she looked at him, puzzled. “You … different. Soft.”
Superboy looked pained. “I think when I … ejaculate, I lose the stuff that was in the spit. I … I'm weak again. Like a normal boy. Maybe even weaker.” He turned away, ashamed.
She looked down at him, surprised, and grabbed his wrist, pinning him. “You fight again. Try!” Superboy grit his teeth and pushed against her. Gudrun's muscles didn't even tighten. “Harder!” she ordered. He strained against her, then collapsed, exhausted, onto the bed.
“You see!” he cried out. “You see. I'm so weak again!”
She shook her head. “Ya. You weak. You must get strong!” She shook her head again. “You sad. I sad too.” She stood up and put her arm under him and lifted him. “You very light. I stronger? Your cum make me strong?” She put him down and flexed her muscle and felt it. “Ya. Harder.” She felt it and ran her hands down her body, very pleased. “I like. I have BIGGER strength! I LOVE strength!”
“It's possible. It's probably only temporary.” He looked at her admiringly and sighed. “What am I going to do?”
“You get strong too. You find how! But now …” She picked up his pants and handed them to him. They dressed in silence. “Father home soon. You go home too. I show you where. I take you.”
They walked through the woods, much more slowly than before as Superboy tired easily. Waiting for him, Gudrun stopped at a fallen tree and tried to lift it, getting it off the ground and then dropping it. “Ya, stronger. Not super. But good strength!”
“Gudrun, may I ask you a couple of things?” he said when he caught up. She shrugged. “Do you … I mean, if I'm weak does that mean you won't want to, uh, with me--
“Weak bad. You find how be super again. Heart strong. You think.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “You good. Body … too weak for Gudrun!” She shrugged.
He nodded. “I think I understand what you mean. I hope for both our sakes I figure this out.” They walked another two minutes without talking. “You're not stupid Gudrun. I know that. Can you tell me … you've been here six years, right? Why don't you learn English? Can I help you?”
She stopped, her face angry. “Not stupid. Think Swedish! Hate the words English! Not want help. Want Swedish think. Always.”
“You don't like being here. You want to go back. Right. You find your home in your strength, your muscle. Your lovely muscle.” She stopped and held him and kissed him. “And here I am, trapped on Earth. I can never go back to my planet, and I don't even have my powers anymore.” They reached the road. “I know the way from here. Thanks for walking with me.” He held out his hand.
She looked at it and picked him up. “I WANT you get strong,” she said, holding him firmly, then put him down, turned and disappeared into the woods.
Superboy trudged the last mile home. When he arrived, his parents were asleep on the sofa in the sitting room. He bent over to wake them. “Ma? Pa? Why are you down here?”
“Clark?” Martha said, groggily. “Clark! Where have you been! What time is – it's 2:30! The carnival ended four hours ago! Where were you? We called the police!”
“I was at the carnival with Jessica and then she left and I stayed with Johnny Nash and – I've always come in at all hours!”
“When you were super, yes, but you're just a normal boy now Clark. You can't behave like this. Tomorrow we have to have a talk about rules, right Jonathan? Jonathan!” He snored loudly. “Well, if he won't, I will! Now get yourself up to bed. No, wait, you'll have to help me with your father. If he sleeps here all night his back will ache for days. And don't even THINK about sleeping in. Church is at 8:30, sharp!”