Wish Me Well
Written by jay_manus :: [Tuesday, 07 June 2022 02:26] Last updated by :: [Saturday, 11 June 2022 13:14]
Wish Me Well
by Jay Manus
The night wasn't young. In fact it was getting old, really old. I had twice tried to strike up conversations in this unremarkable hotel bar with apparently single women, and they both went nowhere. I was on my first ever business trip, as a fairly new employee of a large tech company. I was in engineering, and engineers didn't typically go out on customer visits, but I was needed on this one to help provide technical expertise for one of our clueless salesmen. John, the salesman, already completely smashed, had enticed two quite sober women to help him back to his room. I had a pretty good idea where that was going, and I only hoped John had hidden his wallet somewhere safe.
But I'd heard enough about business trips to know that sometimes you could arrange for a one-night-stand - a night of sex with someone you'd never meet again, sex with no strings attached. And your partner was in the market for the same thing, so it was all fair. That's kind of what I was hoping for, but it wasn't working out. The first woman was sipping vodka by herself at the bar, and seemed bored. I took the empty stool next to her and offered to buy her next round, but she just rolled her eyes at me and took her drink to a table.
I then spied two other young women talking animatedly to each other, a bowl of bar snacks and a bottle of white wine between them. I made my way over to them and asked what was so interesting. They smiled sweetly at me and informed me that they were talking about how they'd met their wives. That was clearly not going to get me what I wanted either.
There didn't appear to be any other unattached women in the bar, so I sat on a stool for while nursing my Guinness, hoping my fortunes would change, but generally feeling a bit disappointed.
It was while staring at my phone that I sensed a presence beside me. Looking around, I saw a young woman settling herself at the adjacent empty spot. She was very young, actually, maybe too young to be sitting in a bar. And there was something familiar about her that I couldn't quite identify in the dim light. I guess I was staring at her, because as soon as she had ordered her own bottle of Guinness, she turned to me and stared back, challenging me to blink first. After a few seconds of that she cocked her head and said, “Do I remind you of someone?"
At that point I saw her face, and I was taken aback. "Bianca??? How did you..."
It was her, I just knew it. But it couldn't be! Bianca had passed away ten years ago! We had dated for several months back in High School, and I was head over heels for her. I'd just known she'd be with me forever. But then she had been killed suddenly in a bicycle accident - hit by a drunk driver who wandered into the bicycle lane. The horrible event had shocked and outraged the entire town, and threw me into a funk from which I was still struggling to escape.
So I knew Bianca was dead, but this girl was her spitting image. Her face, her movements, her voice, it was as if I was with the love of my life all over again. But it couldn't be! For one thing, that was a decade ago, but she still looked like she did when she was 17. She'd have to have aged at least a little since then, right? No, wait a minute, she was DEAD. Did she somehow survive the accident? No, we all attended her funeral, didn't we? Maybe she had a twin sister? Well, if she did, I never knew about her. And anyway, she would have aged too, right?
The girl interrupted my frantic speculation. “I’m not Bianca,” she said simply. It was a bit ambiguous, the way she said that, like maybe she had more to say.
“Do you know Bianca?”
She shook her head slowly. “No…”
Was she egging me on? “Do you know me?”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“From where? Have we met before?” I was confused.
The girl sighed. “No, we haven’t met before. No we have no friends in common. No we didn't go to the same school. No I didn’t find you on Facebook. But I do know you very well. Better than you know yourself.”
“Um, well how, then?”
“From poking around inside your head.”
“You heard me right. I looked into your head.”
“You can read minds?”
“Yup. And right now you’re thinking about how I can prove it to you.”
“Well that’s kind of predictable, don’t you think?”
“Sure. But here’s the proof. Look at me. I look just like your old girlfriend, right? How else could I have known what she looked like?”
I thought about the old photo of Bianca that I kept on my phone, pinned right to the top and favorited, and a little light went on.
“You hacked my phone!” I was outraged. “Who the fuck are you and what do you want from me?”
The girl raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you missing something obvious?”
God this girl was annoying! But wait, ok, so maybe she found Bianca’s photo in my phone. How the hell could she then LOOK like Bianca???
“Bingo,” she said. I didn’t actually realize it, but the conversation had just continued as if I’d spoken those words. “I can make myself look like anyone I want. Or anyone I can imagine.” She was watching for my reaction.
I had none for a minute. Then I narrowed my eyes. “Is this some kind of a joke?” I began searching the area for a camera, or for someone filming us with a cell phone.
The girl rolled her eyes and looked up at the dingy ceiling. “So predictable. They never skip over this step.” She looked back at me and I was startled again that her eyes, her expression, her entire body mirrored so precisely my memory of Bianca.
“OK,” she said, let’s try something. “You always secretly wished your girlfriend had bigger tits, right?”
I nodded. Then opened my mouth wide. “No, wait, she was perfect the way she was!”
The girl ignored my outburst. Instead she rested her hands on both sides of her breasts and, to my utter shock, her chest started growing! Bianca had very nice B cup tits, high and firm on her slender frame. Of course I had fantasized about them being larger - what guy doesn’t? Especially during sex. But now they were actually growing! I watched them pass right through C and well into D territory before they stopped. The girl’s loose fitting black blouse was now stretched tight over a pair of incredibly alluring boobs!
“How did you do that?”
“I told you, I can make myself look any way I want.”
I shook my head and tried to understand what I was seeing.
“Want to see them naked,” she asked? It was a simple question. I didn’t know how to answer, but she answered for me. “Of course you do.”
And then suddenly I was seeing a picture in my mind of my lovely Bianca, standing in her high school bedroom, completely naked except for an incongruous pair of light blue socks with yellow ducks on them. It was a memory from the first time we had made it together. A wonderful memory, a precious memory. She had stripped for me, and was now showing herself off, a coy smile on her face. It was my exact recollection, except that this time her breasts were so much larger. They were still high and firm, but now they looked almost too large for her frame. And she was ravishing!
I blinked and the image was gone.
"Want more of that?" asked the girl.
Again she didn't wait for me to answer. "I can do that and way more. In fact, I can do anything. I can make anything happen, anything at all."
I made a doubtful face. "Anything? Like, you can refill my beer here?" I held up my Guinness to her.
"Boring," she shrugged, and suddenly I noticed that its weight had increased. And it was cold again, after having warmed in my hand for so long. I looked at it, took a sip, and damn if it wasn't just like a fresh bottle of beer.
"Want two? Want five, want twenty?" With each number she spat out, more bottles appeared, finally filling half the table.
Then she wiped her hand across the surface, knocking them all to the floor. None of them made it there though, they disappeared on their way down.
"Give me something bigger than that," she said.
"Ok, can you change that insipid music to 40's big band jazz?"
She nodded, and before I'd had a chance to blink, we were listening to Count Basie's orchestra.
"That was a little better. Keep trying."
What was this? Reality warping? It was starting to make my head spin.
"Head spin. Now that's a good one." She smiled as I watched her head rotate 360 degrees around her neck. It was just like the Exorcist, but without the green vomit.
"I'll do yours too." And suddenly I was looking to my right, my back, my left, and back to the girl's smiling face again. "That's what I'm talking about!" she said.
I instinctively touched my neck, to make sure it was, I don't know, still connecting my head to my shoulders?
"You see, Jake, I can make anything happen. All you have to do is ask for it."
Yes, I had just seen her do something impossible, but no, I still couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"I don't understand. I can ask for anything I want?"
The Bianca-lookalike nodded. "Right. Anything you want."
"So you're like a genie or something? Three wishes? And you'll interpret them literally so I never really get what I want, right?"
She chuckled. "Yes, like a genie, if you want to see it that way. But you get as many wishes as you want, and I know your mind so I know what you really mean even if you don't articulate it just right. No funny business."
"That's it? I just get unlimited wishes? Any limits or constraints?"
"You can't change me. You can change how I look, but not who I am in any way. And," her expression softened unexpectedly, "you can't bring back the dead."
I hadn't actually been thinking that, but I guess I would have sooner or later. Anyway, those restrictions made about as much sense as anything that was happening right now. "So what do you get out of it?"
"I get some variety in my life. Look, here's the deal. I'm going to be your girlfriend. And don't worry, you can change me into someone else if it's too weird going out with your dead friend. I fulfill your every wish. Really. Anything that occurs to you, anything you ask me to do, I make happen. Big things and little things. Anything from the alignment of the planets to the temperature in the room. But you have to keep thinking of interesting things. You have to be creative. I need to have fun with this. I don't have a lot of my own ideas; I feed off of yours. That's who I am, and that's why I need you."
I thought about that for a minute. I could have anything I want? Unlimited wishes? She would make them all come true, just for the asking? Who wouldn't be enticed by that?
But the other part was a bit worrying. I think of myself as a pretty creative guy, at least as far as problem solving is concerned. But I also knew that engineers are not particularly creative by reputation, outside the realm of problem solving, which this apparently was.
The girl, apparently following my thoughts, asked, "You play jazz, right? Alto sax?"
"Yes," I was surprised at that question.
"And you improvise?"
"I went in and listened to some of your solos. You're quite good, you know. Some players perfect the same riffs and then use them over and over again in different songs, with only a little variation. But you like to do something different each time. You like to surprise not just your audience, but the other folks in your band, too. I like that about you. It stretches your creativity muscle. That's why I think you'll be good at this."
"You know about jazz?"
"I know anything I want to know."
Right. The word "omnipotent" came to mind.
"Right," she echoed, "I'm omnipotent." Simple as that.
"Ok, miss omnipotent, what happens if I don't measure up? What if I can't come up with a new idea?"
The girl glanced down at the white leather handbag hanging from her shoulder, and for the first time I became aware of a little squeaking sound I'd been hearing for some time, below the level of consciousness. Suddenly, as I was following her gaze, a little black nose with whiskers popped out of the handbag, then dropped back again.
"What was that?" I started. I saw it peek out a little further this time, whiskers twitching left and right, and then drop back again just as quickly.
The girl smiled sweetly. She reached into the bag with her hand and drew out an adorable little white mouse, cowering in her manicured hand.
"This?” she asked. “This is Algernon."
"You keep a mouse in your purse? Why?"
"To show guys like you. You see, Algernon wasn't always his name. He used to be Albert. But he ran out of ideas. So now he's Algernon, and he lives in my purse."
Ugh. That was it then. That was the bargain. I could have anything I wanted, as long as I could keep the new ideas flowing. And as soon as I stopped, she would turn me into a mouse and keep me in her purse.
"Um, do I have a choice?" I was thinking about how final her words sounded when she said she was going to be my girlfriend.
"But, unlimited wishes?"
So, unbelievably fabulous opportunity with horrifying downside risk. Did I have enough faith in myself, that I was creative enough? Could I keep it up essentially forever? I thought about my improv. I almost never went into a solo with any idea what I was going to do. The ideas just came to me as I went along. The skills were second nature to me by now, I only needed to concentrate on variety - different from the previous phrase, different from last week's performance, different from my colleague's take on it. Modulate up instead of down. Play triplets instead of duples. Harmonize with the trumpet's line. Overlay a nursery rhyme that shared the same chord progression. Use a breathy tone. Halve the tempo, staccato instead of legato, bring it up an octave. Somehow I had always found something. These thoughts gave me confidence that I could do what was being asked of me.
I suddenly no longer cared about this crappy business trip, my idiot salesman, my entire job. My life was no longer my life. With a little trepidation and a lot of excitement, I made a decision that was no longer really mine to make. "Ok, I accept the challenge."
"Good," she nodded. "Now listen. Your first few wishes are going to be boring. Every guy starts with a few standard ones, and you'll be no exception. But that's ok, you get a grace period as you learn to expand your mind. Go ahead, take a shot."
I took another careful look at this enhanced Bianca-lookalike. God she was beautiful. I noted how full and round her breasts looked, and how her nipples formed the endpoints of such a straight and taut line in the fabric. That alone was already making me horny. I raised my eyes to her face again, and my heart skipped a beat. Her small, upturned nose, her smooth skin, her clear, deep brown eyes. It was just too good to be true. My ache to have Bianca back was almost overwhelming.
But this wasn't Bianca. She looked like Bianca, she carried herself like Bianca, but she wasn't Bianca. And she told me I couldn't change her into Bianca.
As I was musing, I noticed some movement below. Glancing down I caught sight of her breasts expanding once again - just enough this time to cause two buttons to pop off her blouse, exposing an absolutely luscious cleavage. Looking back up, I saw a wide grin on her face. And immediately that nude image of Bianca and her enhanced breasts popped into my head. Well, I thought, I guess I can pretend it's Bianca, right?
The girl's grin turned into a satisfied nod. "Alright then, you've made your first wish. Shall we retire to your room?"
The touching and petting started in the elevator and was in full swing by the time we reached my room. I started to fumble for my key card, but Bianca was too impatient for that. The door simply evaporated and we fell in, barely making our way to the bedroom before our clothes were gone and I had her pressed against the wall, rubbing my aching cock between her thighs.
Then she started growing her breasts again, which pushed me away from her — and which I found uproariously funny. “Come back here,” she pouted, pretending to try to pull me closer than her mammaries would allow. Then she too fell into fits of laughter.
I tried every which way to maneuver myself around her boobs, each try eliciting renewal giggling. Finally I complained that I couldn’t get my arms around her anymore because her breasts were too big.
“You gotta make them smaller now!” I spat out between fits of hysterical laughter. But she made them bigger anyway. With the sound of a balloon being inflated, Bianca’s tits grew to double their size — again! But this time it was too much. Her arms whirled out of control and she rotated onto her back and started to float upwards until her outrageous tits squashed into the ceiling.
“Hey, come back down here!” I was laughing so hard I could barely get the words out.
“No, you come up here,” she giggled, and I immediately felt myself rise until I bumped up against her sexy back, balls pressed against her bottom. I gave her a little tap on the side of her enormous boob and she bounced again off the ceiling, then ricocheted off the far wall, the floor, and back up to where I was hanging.
Too turned on to be scared, I got behind Bianca again, and wrapped my arms around her incredibly slim waist and pulled her tight to my body. I started rubbing my hard cock up and down between her butt cheeks, groaning in time to my strokes.
Bianca screamed a few times with excitement, but suddenly got very still. It was then that I realized I’d been hearing a repetitive banging sound from the ceiling above us. I first thought it was Bianca repeatedly hitting the hard surface with her hips, but the cadence was wrong, and anyway I didn’t think she could even get her hips up past her ridiculous breasts.
No, it was somebody in the room above us, somebody less than happy about our wild play at 3:00 in the morning.
Bianca and I held still for a minute, but the banging didn’t stop. “Frog,” I asked?
“Frog,” she agreed.
And just like that, the rhythmic thumping ended and we heard one loud “rivet.” And then a woman screamed.
We both broke out again in uncontrollable laughter and went back to enjoying each other’s bodies.
“Hey, what time is it,” I asked?
“What time do you want it to be?”
The light was streaming in through the thin window curtain that we’d never bothered to open, so I knew it was morning, or maybe early afternoon. But we’d pretty much been up all night with our crazy sex escapade. A lot of it was hazy, but I did remember that some of it took place on a crowded beach in Brazil. And pretty much everybody was doing it.
What time would I like it to be? Who knows? Who cares? Bianca could make it be any time she wanted, so why bother making it any time at all?
“No time,” I replied. “Just make it be now, and stay that way.”
I looked over at Bianca. She was laying nude in the twisted sheets of my (new) king size bed, smiling at me. She had reduced her breasts to her more presentable size — what I’d taken to calling “Bianca-D” — and she was incredibly gorgeous. I knew of course that she wasn’t my old girlfriend, but I didn’t seem to be having trouble anymore with that. She was a different girl (and oh, what a girl!), and it was ok that she had the same body. Even better that it was improved. I decided right then that I wanted her to keep this shape, though naturally we would play around with it for fun.
“Done,” she said, “It’s no-time now. You’re doing great, by the way. Keep those ideas coming. You’re really making me happy!”
Wow, that was the best thing she could have said. I was happy too. It seemed I’d be able to keep this up!
“Let’s go out for breakfast, ok?”
"Sure, where? I mean, what part of the world?"
"How about Paris?"
"Sounds great. Take a look outside."
I pulled the curtain aside and there, straight ahead, was the Eiffel Tower. And it was just as sunny as before — something that only made sense within the context of time not happening. "Can you get us dressed to go out?"
"Sure." By the time she climbed out of bed we were both dressed for a summer day in the city. My missing apartment door reappeared right after we stepped through it. I was a step behind Bianca, and admiring her long hair, narrow waist, shapely bottom and endless legs just made me smile. Knowing I was watching her, she briefly made herself completely naked, and then restored her clothes three steps later. I shook my head and chuckled. Life was really going to be interesting from now on.
Two blocks away we found a cute little coffee shop with sidewalk tables. All were occupied, but I indicated one with two women and a good view of the busy foot traffic. Bianca nodded and the table was immediately freed and cleaned. We sat, and a waiter immediately brought us fresh coffee and menus.
“Want to play a game?” I asked once we placed our orders.
“You know I do!”
“Ok, it goes like this. You point out someone who looks interesting, and then I make up something about that person. And then you make it true.”
“Simple enough. And we take turns?”
“Right. But of course, you’re always the one who makes it true.”
She gave me a “duh” expression, but the comment did raise the possibility that one day I might ask her to grant me powers similar to hers. But then I immediately ruled that out. It was just too much fun having a girlfriend who could alter reality on a whim. I didn’t want to jeopardize that in any way.
Bianca gave me a big, enthusiastic, heart stopping smile and clapped her hands once. “Let’s do it!”
We watched some passers-by for a while, and then Bianca pointed to a man and a woman walking together. They were an odd couple: he was easily six foot 4, and she was short, probably under five feet. The two were talking animatedly, the girl clearly asking the guy for something he didn’t want to do.
“Ok, he’s a bouncer at a night club.”
“Good,” said Bianca, “and the girl?”
I thought for a minute. “And she’s a strong woman in a circus. They’re on their way to visit her parents but he doesn’t want to go yet.”
“Strong woman”, asked Bianca?
“Yeah. Like she shows off how strong she is to the audience. “
We watched the couple stop walking and face each other. Then the man turned and started walking the other way. The girl then ran after him and got in front of him, blocking his progress. Then I saw her bend forward next to him, wrap one arm around his upper legs, and straighten up. The short girl was now carrying the big man over her shoulder! She walked forward again now, soon turning a corner and disappearing from sight.
Bianca and I looked at each other and chuckled.
“I like the strong woman thing,” she said after a minute. “You like it too, I know.” It was true, I’d always had a thing for strong women. “Keep that in mind, ok?”
“You bet! Ok, my turn to pick.”
Before long, two school girls appeared. They were wearing school uniforms with white shirts and knee-length plaid skirts. I pointed them out to Bianca. “Those two,” I said, nodding toward the girls.
“Ha! Easy one,” she said. “They’re 7th graders who suddenly woke up this morning to early puberty. They’re both horny as hell.”
“Ooh, I like that. But did they grow tits?”
“Um, I think no.”
“Ok, here goes…”
And with that, both girls’ chests swelled to the point where they were straining their shirt buttons. Their faces, childish before, developed a kind of longing, almost hungry look as they glanced around at the cafe’s clientele. They both spied the same single young man sitting alone with his newspaper and coffee, and ran to his table. Before he knew it they were seated on either side of him, one pulling his shoulder to the right, the other trying to turn his chin to the left. The man, trying to escape the onslaught, backed his chair up but fell backwards doing so. The man then scrambled into his feet, grabbed his sunglasses from the table and hurried off, the two girls trying to keep up. They disappeared around the same corner as the strong girl and her bouncer boyfriend.
Bianca and I looked at each other and chuckled again. “I wonder what’s going on around that corner now,” I quipped.
“We could look,” offered Bianca.
“No, that’s ok. I want to keep playing. I already know what I'm going to ask for," I smiled.
She smiled back. "Yup, I know." She waited a minute until a taxi pulled up to the curb, and a rather frumpy, middle-aged woman stepped out. "Her." Bianca indicated the woman with a nod in her direction.
"You're kidding!" She was not really the kind of base material I had in mind.
"Nope! Go ahead - what's her story?" Bianca leaned in close and whispered into my ear, "Remember... anything...."
I took a deep breath. Well, I supposed I could first make this woman sexy, and then add in the rest of my idea. I wondered for a moment how this was any different from turning a table into a sexy woman, but shut down that thought quickly. We were here to have fun, not to existentialize.
The woman was opening her handbag, I figured to take out her wallet and pay the cab driver. Let's start with that, I thought. "Ok, in her handbag she finds a magic glowing rock, and when she picks it up it melts into her hand and turns her into a sexy 19-year-old."
Bianca nodded, and I watched as the story played out exactly as I had described it. The girl watched in horror as a green glowing goo made its way quickly up her arm, around her torso, down her legs and into her other arm, and then right up onto her head. Then the goo sort of sank into her body, leaving her naked, but it was already clear she had become younger and more beautiful. Her waist shrank as she gained height, her breasts jutted further and further from her chest, her legs became slender and shapely, her stomach flattened.
As I watched she continued to become more attractive. It was mesmerizing, and quite a few other heads had turned to watch.
"How sexy do you want her to be?" Bianca shocked me out of my reverie.
I turned back to the girl. "Uh, just keep going."
And she did. The girl's frizzy, dirty blond hair brightened and straightened, becoming longer until it settled down the length of her narrow back and curved inward at the top of her firm butt. Her legs lengthened too, becoming both slimmer and shapelier, and adding three or four inches to her stature. The glow from the goo softened until her entire body became suffused with an incomprehensible shine that seemed to dim everything around her. All the men and pretty much all the women were watching her now. No-one was saying a word.
"More," I said, without looking away.
"Ooh, this is good, Jake."
The girl continued to change, but now in a much subtler way. I only saw slight changes in her shape - mostly her face becoming smoother skinned and more delicate, her eyes enlarging a bit, her pupils darkening. Her neck seemed to lengthen a bit as well. But more than that, something non-physical was happening. She was somehow becoming more alluring, more desirable. I felt my dick start to harden, and I had a feeling that was happening to the other guys in the cafe as well. I started to feel a sort of emotional pull, a kind of hunger. It wasn't lust so much as a yearning.
“Ahem,” Bianca said as I turned back to her. “If you want me to keep going I’m going to have to make you immune.”
“Oh, of course,” I responded, perhaps a little too quickly. The girl’s attraction suddenly dropped away. It was as if I’d been playing tug-of-war and my partner suddenly released her end of the rope. I fell backward, but Bianca’s strong hand was there to support me.
“You good now?” She asked as I regained my balance.
“Yeah. Let’s see where this goes.”
As I watched, the girl continued to grow more and more alluring. Looking around I could see various reactions from the onlookers - many of the men were visibly sweating and swallowing hard, the women were mostly staring at the scene before them and not aware of the effect it was having on their partners. But a couple of the women were licking their lips as well.
At some point the attraction became unbearable, and several guys got up and walked over to her. One man removed his sport jacket and placed it around her naked shoulders, but I noticed he didn’t cover her gorgeous breasts. Another man tried to talk to her, and then another tried to squeeze in front of the first guy, leading to a pushing match that threatened to get out of hand. Meanwhile, more people started making their way to the beautiful blond, drawn to her like a magnet by the irresistible sex appeal that just kept growing and growing.
The girl had backed up as far as the taxi now, and I could hear her screaming at all the admirers to leave her alone. But It didn’t take long then for the scene to develop into an unruly crowd, through which I could no longer see our creation. In fact I was sure she was getting smothered in there, if not physically assaulted.
Bianca poked me in the rib to get my attention. “Time for part two?”
I nodded. “Yes. Time for super strength.” Bianca smiled.
From within the crowd I suddenly heard a god-awful shriek, followed by a very loud, “Leave me alone!” And simultaneously, twenty people flew into the air, traveling maybe fifty feet in all directions, crashing into lampposts, parked cars the building wall, or cafe tables. I could see the girl now, oh so sexy, with her hand covering her mouth in horror.
She began backing away, unaware that the awful screeching sound we were hearing was that of a taxi being forced to slide sideways on the concrete by her perfect butt. Probably thinking to get back in the taxi, she turned and grabbed the doorhandle, which twisted off in her hand. She looked at it for a second, unseeing, and then threw it away, and reached for the front door instead. This time her hand missed the handle, but her fingers breached the metal covering, and when she pulled, the entire car door came off in her hand. Again, she looked at it stupidly, and then threw it away, not aware that it crashed into a concrete wall 30 feet away.
She quickly climbed into the front seat, misjudging her new height and colliding her forehead into the rim of the car roof. But again she scarcely noticed as the roof simply bent inward and split to accommodate the unstoppable casual impact of the girl’s gorgeous face.
Inside, she covered her new large breasts with her arms as best she could, and pleaded. “Go, please, just go, get me away from here!”
But the driver was human too, of course, and he just stared at the irresistible apparition that had just climbed into his car. “Go, what are you waiting for???” It didn’t stop him from staring though, and in fact his desire was so great that he leaned over and tried to get his face into her boobs. The girl drew back, but the vertical roof support was in her way. She pushed backward anyway with her legs, but one delicate foot breeched the floorboard before the steel support behind her finally bent away. She fell out of the car backwards, and awkwardly turned over to get her free leg under her. Then she began to run, but her other leg, now fully extended through the floor, did not come free. Instead she only managed to drag the entire car with her, glass shattering, steel crashing and bending, demolishing itself with every limping step she took! I watched as she quickly accelerated down the street to over a hundred miles an hour, leaving a trail of mangled yellow taxi parts on the road behind her. The last I saw, she rounded an intersection, but in her haste, she misjudged a building’s position and inadvertently plowed through its steel corner, undercutting the building’s support. The 4-story office building was now leaning perilously, over the intersection.
Bianca and I looked at each other for a second, and then simultaneously started laughing uncontrollably.
"That went really well, Jake," she said after we finally settled down. "I know you didn't plan all of that, but half the fun is setting it up and letting it play out."
"Yup, I have to say I'm very happy with the results."
But somehow I wasn't really satisfied. It took me a minute but then realized that I wanted to keep watching the girl to see how she fared.
"We can arrange that, Jake."
Oh yeah, she was reading my mind again. I just took it in stride. Nothing was crazy anymore.
"Well,” I said, “how about instead of watching her, we just look ahead, like a year into the future, and see what's happened?"
Bianca clapped her hands. "You - you - are the best boyfriend I've ever had. I hope you can keep it up!"
Right, that... Well, I guess I'd been doing well enough so far, I shrugged. "I hope so too, but for now?"
"Right," replied Bianca. She took my hand, and suddenly I found myself sort of, somewhere above Paris I think, but not really anywhere in particular. We were just kind of there, without being present. I looked at Bianca - she was floating, kind of how you would look if you were weightless, in outer space. She was holding my hand, I could feel it, but when I looked at my hand, and the rest of my body, I wasn't even there.
"Um, where are we?"
"We're nowhere," she replied. "I transported us into the future in time, but not in space."
"You mean, our bodies are still back at the cafe? Without our minds?"
"Yes, sort of, but time has stopped for us there, so it's not like our bodies are going to just keel over. Just don't worry. Let's see what's happening with our girl."
"Ok. What's our girl's name, by the way?"
"What do you want it to be?"
That again! "Just... I want it to be what it really is."
"You should know by now that there is no 'really'."
"Right, I can see that," (not that I could really comprehend it...) "but you know what I mean. What was her name before we started playing with her reality?"
"Ok, so where is Abby now?"
Bianca pointed down at the town. I looked, and what used to be kind of undifferentiated generic town gradually clarified and I could see a woman crossing a crowded street in downtown Paris. It was definitely Abby, as I could feel her attraction from all the way up here, and oddly I could see and hear everything as if I were right there on the ground. She was now dressed in a yellow halter top and pink shorts, her incredibly long legs making the shorts seem like little more than panties; her incredibly large bust making the halter stand out so far from her torso that its hem wasn't even close to her slim belly.
All of sudden I realized I was hearing a steady commentary coming from something called "Abby Watch Radio". An announcer's voice was just saying, "...seen crossing Rue de l'Universite in the 7th. Advise all to stay clear of the area..." At that moment a fully loaded cement mixer lumbered into view. Apparently the driver was on his way to a job site, and hadn't been listening to the warnings. His truck crossed right in front of the beautiful girl. She had seen it coming, but wasn't about to stop for any measly hundred ton vehicle. Instead she reached one hand forward to latch her harder-than-steel fingers onto the chassis and whipped the entire heavy construction machine backwards over her head as if it were a plastic toy. She didn't even look back when it crashed into the Senegalese embassy a block behind her, but continued straight into the bar across the street.
When I say "into," I mean that literally. There was a glass door, but Abby chose the stone masonry wall next to it to crash through. The patrons' inevitable surprise didn't last long. They saw Abby, they knew how dangerous she was, but instead of running for their lives they were all drawn toward her by her allure. Abby was used to this reaction, though. She turned and blew some air through her puckered lips, throwing all the patrons instantly against the farthest wall, a flight that many of them failed to survive. Then she turned back to the bartender. He was also trying to get close to her, but she stopped him with a stern look.
"Vodka," she told him. "All of it. Now."
The man turned and hurriedly pulled four bottles of clear liquid from the mirrored shelves behind him. He placed them on the bar in front of her and then leaned forward to try to kiss her lovely lips.
"No. Get out of here now." The suddenly frightened man wasted no time, escaping with his life through the kitchen door. Abby meanwhile proceeded to bite off the top if the first bottle, chew and swallow the glass, and then wash it down by chugging all of its contents in one shot. Then she did the same with each of the other three bottles in turn. Finally she got up unsteadily, and immediately stumbled into another stone wall, partially demolishing it as well. Apparently deciding that one wall was as good as another, she got back to her feet and continued to barrel through it. As she left I could hear her saying to herself, "Gotta find a way to end this shitty life."
My consciousness then shifted back to our "nowhere", where I looked at my benefactor. "Bianca," I began slowly, "that isn't really --"
She put her finger to my lips. "No, I know it's not what you would have wanted. It doesn't bother me, because for me it's just as much fun watching a jaded, depressed girl with superstrength as it would be to watch a happy one - and none of it is real. But I understand that you aren't there yet. Remember though, I can make anything happen, right? If you want it to be different, just tell me."
Of course I knew that, but it was a relief to feel free to change the outcome.
“Thank you for that, Bianca. What I want is for her to have found a way to live and to be happy with her new normal.”
“It’s already done. Let’s take a look.”
* * *
Barry wrestled his old pickup down the empty highway, a straight ribbon of black tar and double yellow line, separating two identical fields of ripe corn, stretching as far as the eye could see. It was a late summer afternoon when the Iowa sun always turned the corn golden, and they were headed home after another long day on the farm. What an amazing turn his life had taken, he thought as he glanced at the gorgeous girl on his right, her long blond locks practically outshining the sun itself. She had accepted his offer of marriage on their second day together, and that was six months ago, and even now neither of them could be happier. His fiancée was looking at the road ahead, but her left hand was idly stroking Barry's crotch. His cock always raged like this when he was around her, and she made no secret that she loved it.
There was something otherworldly attractive about Abby, he knew. She was more than able to protect herself, but she had been so tired of it when she met Barry, that she'd run all the way out here from a distant city just to be alone. He'd come upon her, crumpled and sobbing to herself in the middle of his cornfield. He'd climbed out of his tractor and tried to comfort her, but found himself almost violently attracted to her sexually. Yes, she was beautiful, but he usually had better manners than that. She'd held him off easily with one stiff arm, and pleaded with him in fluent but French-accented English to just love her and keep her safe. Love her he did, gently and with great caring, and she had returned that love immediately and without restraint.
The other farmers, and even their wives and adolescent children, couldn't keep their hands off of her though, so they'd stayed apart from the community. Barry didn't mind, he was kind of a loner anyway. One day, he thought, he'd organize an orgy -- if Abby felt up to it. There was no other way to involve her in a gathering with other people. And maybe once everyone had had a chance with her, their unbearably intense animal lust for her might diminish, as it had with him. And he honestly thought that Abby would rather enjoy it, as long as it was respectful and well managed. He knew from experience that it took a lot of work to satisfy her, and twenty or thirty burly men could certainly do a better job than he ever could alone.
Barry was suddenly awakened from his musings as his fiancee used the delicate fingers of her left hand to grab and tear apart his jeans at his crotch. It was a casual show of her astounding strength that he didn't think he'd ever get used to, no matter how many of his jeans she ruined. Barry smiled as his engorged dick broke free and she started stroking him with more vigor. Only a few seconds later she leaned over and wrapped her soft red lips around him and began to suck.
As Abby's lovely head bobbed on his dick, Barry gradually lost consciousness and his truck drifted to the right until its front wheel inevitably dropped into the irrigation ditch that ran alongside the road. Barry woke up suddenly as the vehicle lurched to a hard stop, noticing that already, his girlfriend had thrust her slender arm across the steering wheel to protect him in case he were to be jerked forward.
"Jeez," said Barry, "you gotta stop being such a turn-on!" He wasn't mad of course, just bantering.
"Sorry, it's my blessing and my curse."
"Oh, ok." The engine was still running, so he shut it off. "Let's go out and check the damage."
One tall farmer and one sexy blond climbed out of opposite sides of the truck and met in front.
"No damage that I can see," said Barry after a minute, "'cept the tire. That's flat as a pancake." He considered. "I got a spare in the truck bed, but no jack. Looks like we're gonna need your services again."
Abby brightened, if that were even possible. "You got it!" She effortlessly lifted the front bumper until the wheels were free of the muck, then walked the pickup back into the street and set it down.
"Lug nuts?" she asked, and Barry nodded as he went around to the back to fetch the spare tire. By the time he returned, Abby had unscrewed all six nuts with her fingers, and with her other hand was holding the front fender up high enough off the ground so that he could wiggle the wheel off its axel. On went the spare, and in no time Abby had replaced and tightened all the nuts.
"Looks a little low on air. Abby? You wanna see if you can blow that up a bit? Go real slow though. This ain't no tractor tire." They both remembered fondly how one of her first demonstrations of strength was to blow into the valve of a worn 8-foot diameter tractor wheel until it expanded like a balloon and exploded.
“Ok, looks about right,” said Barry after a minute. He looked around at the setting Sun. “That’s mighty pretty, ain’t it?”
“What, prettier than me?” teased Abby.
“Nothin’s prettier ‘n you, Ab, you know that.”
Abby had come close to her fiancé as he spoke. “You know what I think? I think we should finish what we started.”
And before he could respond, Abby had her man over her shoulder. Then she bent her knees and reaching back, grabbed the pickup’s front bumper with her free hand, and dragged the vehicle behind her as she carried him back into the cornfield.
Bianca and I watched the young couple disappear among the vegetation, and I half expected the music to rise and the credits to roll, it was such a storybook ending.
“Thanks, Bianca. I know it’s nothing to you, but it makes me happy to see them happy.”
And with that, we found ourselves back in the sidewalk cafe in Paris.
Bianca looked at me for a minute, reappraising. It almost felt as if she were seeing me for the first time.
“You know,” she began, “I actually misjudged you. I didn’t think that was even possible. Every other boyfriend I’ve ever had fell really quickly into the sense of unreality that I live in. My power is such that nothing matters. I can cause great joy or great suffering, and then switch it up on a whim. It doesn’t matter that people are hurting, because they are just plastic toys to me. I don’t feel their pain, but in fact, real people do. My boyfriends always forget that before the first day is even out. My inhuman power gives them permission to become inhuman as well, and they always take me up on it, for the fun of it.
“You played with that for a while too, but when it came to something really consequential, to actually harming somebody’s life, you couldn’t go through with it. You fell back on your humanity.”
I was dumbfounded. It seemed incongruous for this beautiful girl, this literal goddess animating the body of my old girlfriend, to wax so philosophical.
“Wow,” I responded lamely. “I guess you like me then?”
“Yeah, I do.” She reached over the table for my hand and continued, “This relationship is going to be different. You’re going to teach me a thing or two.”
Me? Teach a goddess?
“I think we’ve had enough of this game for one day,” she said. “It’s time for our own storybook ending.”