g done my good deed for the decade at the weekend (visiting those two jerks in hospital) today was a day dedicated to me.
I went for a walk in the park, to see how work is progressing on the demolition of the "haunted" tea rooms. It's taken a team of eight men a week to do about as much "damage" as I managed in twenty seconds, so they must have been working flat-out, the poor boys.
They were using a bulldozer to break of little bits of one of the walls. Each swipe of the teethed scoop removed another six inch by four foot section of brick. I had to laugh. Such a big, expensive (and supposedly powerful) machine, and all it can do is nibble away painfully slowly at the wall.
Compare that with little (bust excepted) me. I mean, I could have just taken a moderately deep breath, pushed out my sexy lips and gently blown the rest of the wall down in a second. Without any effort whatsoever! Of course I didn't do it. It's much more fun to watch those lads with their useless muscles struggling away...
I couldn't resist puffing a quick blast of freezing superbreath at the bulldozer's engine, however. The cold of my exhalation instantly froze the fuel in there solid. I stayed for about half an hour as six men scratched their heads and struggled in vain to get it up and running again.
Again, I could have used another waft of warm breath to defrost the machine, but where was the fun in that?
Thursday 2 June 2005 17:48 BST (GMT+1)
A wet, cool day today. Not really the kind of weather you'd normally associate with the beginning of June, but it's not as if I care.
I don't feel cold, even in an industrially-cooled vat of liquid nitrogen. And a little rain isn't going to give me 'flu. I've been exposed to some of the deadliest viruses and poisons in existence without so much as sneezing or feeling the need to scratch a little.
But even a being as perfect as me can still get caught outside in a rain shower without an umbrella. It happened to me today. I suppose I could have done something to avoid it. I could smell that a downpour was imminent, and there was nothing (I don't count brick walls and men as impediments) to stop me forcing my way into someone's house for shelter, but for the sake of a quiet life, I didn't bother.
The rain soaked my hair, matting it flat onto my head and in thick, dripping strands down my face. My thin white cotton T-shirt was also saturated. It shrank and became almost see-though as it clung so tightly to my body. My big nipples were clear to see, along with quite a bit of each large breast around them.
No wonder, then, as I strolled down the road, that there were two car crashes, three pedestrian collisions, a guy losing control of a push-bike and at least one man falling from a ladder. I reckon I was directly responsible for half a dozen men getting hurt in the space of about fifteen minutes. And I didn't even have to use my powers!
Friday 3 June 2005 17:40 BST (GMT+1)
It was raining this morning again, so I've decided to have a change of scenery. I'm at the airport right now. I'll post again when I arrive wherever it is I end up going...
Monday 6 June 2005 15:10 BST (GMT+1)
It's always nice to take a little break somewhere off the beaten track. Or, in this case, off the machete'd track...
I'm right in the middle of the jungle right now, in a tiny shack which serves as a research base for a major pharmaceutical company. It's got beds, washing facilities, and an array of satellite equipment on the roof providing TV and, most useful of all, internet access. And the team of four who are on a yearlong posting here have been most generous in allowing me to use make use of their facilities.
True, there was a little misunderstanding when I first turned up. They didn't seem to want me around and there was an amusing "You three hold her while I get the tranquilliser darts" scene, but once they understood that I can't be held, darts bounce off my skin and I don't take "no" for an answer, everything was fine.
I've even managed a little romance with a couple of my hosts. (The attractive ones, that is. The other two are not my type at all). This morning I woke the decent-looking ones up in their bunks by picking up one of them from his bed (his six foot body as good as weightless to me) and dropping him onto his colleague's mattress so that they were side by side. Already nude, I just leapt on top of the pair.
Isolated for so long, they were each more than happy to oblige me the first time. They were more reluctant when I initiated the second round a couple of minutes later, both complaining about bruising and exhaustion, but I convinced them quickly enough.
They actually began to protest as I started Round Three, and I had to be insistent as I reminded them that "No" is not an option with me. I left them both sleeping side by side, black and blue where my body, especially my chest, had repeatedly battered them.
Right now, I'm going out to do a little jungle exploration of my own. I hope my sleeping pals recover enough energy for tonight. Otherwise, it's going to be extremely hard work for them.
Tuesday 7 June 2005 16:59 BST (GMT+1)
Tarzan? He's got nothing on me! I mean they might have given him nice looking muscles in the films, but they're just for show. I might look more like Jane (if more beautiful) but my slender arms contain vastly more strength.
I proved that on my walk this morning. I saw something slithering on the ground and realised it was some kind of massive snake. I poked its middle, trying to make the thing show its head, which it finally did. Its skull was almost as big as mine!
The creature's jaws opened wide enough to swallow half a cow as it struck at me. I'm more than quick enough to have evaded it completely, but I let it clamp its fangs into my bare left thigh. (I should have mentioned I was attired in an exceptionally fetching brief red two-piece). There was blood on my leg; not mine, of course, but the snake's. Apparently, it lost a giant tooth in its futile attempt to bite me (or leave any kind of mark on my flawless skin.)
Now enraged, the snake began to curl its enormous body around me. It had to have been over a foot in diameter. As more and more of it appeared out of the foliage, I realised that I was dealing with a real-life monster, at least thirty foot long. It coiled itself around my perfect body, slowly tensing to try and squeeze the life out of me. Needless to say, the serpent's best efforts were barely noticeable to me. You probably feel more restricted being hugged by an elderly relative.
With ridiculous ease, I used my arms to lever the animal away from me, lifting it off me, without registering any weight. I grabbed its body, just below its head and let it struggle and thrash about between my small hands. I needed so little effort to hold the beast in place that I soon got bored. I began to squeeze its body, enjoying the way it fought so uselessly against me.
I don't need to say that the symbolism of the moment was not lost on me as I slowly and playfully squeezed the long, round animal, taking my time as I hugged it to myself and let my large breasts gradually crush the life out of it until some of its guts spurted from its mouth. Then I set off back to the base, dragging the massive corpse behind me like a normal person would drag a length of string. I've told my hosts, the four scientists, to make me a set of matching luggage from its skin. I look forward to the results.
Of course it's particularly hard for them as I keep interrupting the work to rape one or two of them, but a girl has needs...
Wednesday 8 June 2005 17:30 BST (GMT+1)
After the fun of yesterday's reptilian rumble in the jungle, I went out this morning hopeful of another enjoyable encounter.
Sadly, I didn't find anything more exciting than a monkey. It was terrified of me, and started to climb a tree, but I jumped higher than it could climb in the short space of time it had. I took it back to the research station and got one of the scientists to look at it. Apparently it was from a really rare species. "You shouldn't have killed it! It's endangered!" the geek told me.
"So are you if you talk to me like that." I responded. He immediately apologised and went back to work on my suitcases. Turning that giant dead snake into a set of luggage is proving quite a challenge. None of the scientists have experience with skinning animals or with needles and thread, but they're trying hard. Perhaps they're worried that I might not be happy if they fail. That's not even the case. I'd be happy even if they did fail. They'd be badly, badly hurt, of course, but I would be happy.
At the moment, there's just three of them on the job. The other is asleep, heavily dosed up on morphine. The others wanted to call an air ambulance to get him to a hospital, but I've told them that no-one will leave until I complete my stay. It's not like he's that badly hurt. It's just a broken leg and a couple of cracked ribs which he sustained shortly after I woke him at dawn to have sex with me. And don't blame me for not being careful. I was being careful. He was just too fragile.
Thursday 9 June 2005 17:52 BST (GMT+1)
It's been another enjoyable day out here in the jungle. Initially, I was only planning to stay for a night or two, but I'm having such a good time, I think I might spend the whole week here.
Morphine-man woke up for an hour or so last night. One of the others wanted to give him another dose right away, but I pushed him back with a blast of superbreath. I just felt that after sleeping so long, he must've gathered enough energy to please me. I mean, he only has a broken leg and a couple of busted ribs!
Anyway, he was a bit groggy. I had to rub my breasts across his face until large bruises appeared on his cheeks before he got erect, but after that, I got a decent-enough ride out of him. And, yes, I was very, very careful with him. In fact I only broke two more ribs. Oh, and I also knocked out half a dozen of his teeth when I poked my tongue in his mouth, but he didn't complain. Well, I suppose he couldn't with my lips sealed over his.
When I was done I told his colleague he could go ahead with the morphine injection, as my lover's pathetic sobbing (was it pain or humiliation or both? Who cares!) was beginning to annoy me...
Monday 13 June 2005 17:04 BST (GMT+1)
Home sweet home. And, I've got to say, it's good to be back.
Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed my stay in the jungle. Plus, I've got a fairly decent set of matching snakeskin luggage as a souvenir. Some of the stitching on it is a little imperfect in places, and the fastening mechanisms leave a bit to be desired (more on that later), but it still a lovely thing to own. It's just that I had to get out of there. Things were really starting to go downhill just before I left.
It was on Friday morning. I walked into the main room of the research station where I was staying and clicked my fingers. This was the prearranged signal for the four scientists there to gather round. The negotiations of this arrangement went like this: I announced "I click, you four get in here as fast as you can and throw yourselves at my feet, waiting for instructions. Any failure to comply results in pain (either severe or excruciating, depending on my mood). Understood?" In answer, the quartet nodded vigorously, so I released the crushing grip I had placed on the necks of two of them and let them slump to the floor.
On Friday morning when I clicked, three men came running in immediately, although one was limping quite dramatically. I couldn't believe he was still in pain. I mean, it had been more than twelve hours since I'd picked him up by his ankle and swung him around my head (not a punishment, I just thought it would be an amusing thing to do. And his screams at the time were amusing...) Anyway, the limper ran as fast as he could. Two others sprinted to me. The fourth man was missing. Apparently, he was fast asleep, dosed up to the eyeballs on morphine as the couple of bones I'd accidentally snapped while having sex with him were causing him extreme pain.
"Please," one of his colleagues begged me. "he needs to go to a hospital. Every minute is crucial."
"He should have thought about that before he put his fragile ribs in the way of my chest." I chuckled, pushing out my perfect large breasts to illustrate my remark. No-one said anything, but all three of them stared up at my prominent mounds. Still smiling, I announced that I wanted to see the luggage they were making for me.
"It's... it's not ready yet." One of the two ugly (unscrewable) men said. My understandable displeasure must have shown on my face, because he immediately added, in a desperate tone, "Please! We are scientists, not cobblers! We're doing our best but-"
"-But you're best just isn't good enough." I interrupted. Turning my face slightly towards the corner of the room which housed the giant tank containing the installation's drinking water, I slowly and sensuously pushed out my lips. Then I bent at the waist a little (just enough to make my breasts stretch the material of my tight T-shirt almost to tearing-point) and exhaled a long, ultra-cold blast of superbreath at the tank. Within seconds, the large metal container was coated in thick frost. Of course, the liquid inside was now a solid block of ice.
"Our water!" one of the men at my feet protested.
"Next time," I warned, without bothering to look down "it'll be you I turn into a freeze-pop. No-one's drinking until my suitcases are ready. Is that clear?"
"Yes." answered the trio of voices from below.
"Then get to work!" And they did, falling over themselves to return to their task as quickly as possible.
About four hours later, one of them approached me as I returned from a lovely outing killing wild animals and knocking over trees in the jungle. "Forgive me speaking out of turn," he began, dropping to his knees in front of me, "but your luggage is ready." I gave him a gentle prod in the ribs with my bare toe (jungle strolls are much more fun without shoes). It wasn't a hard kick. Just enough to make him yell and send him rolling across the room until he hit a wall. After all, he had spoken out of turn, despite his plea for forgiveness. I stepped over him on my way to see the results of his work.
The cases, five in total ranging in size from a huge suitcase down to a delightful handbag, were arranged on a table. Two of the scientists were in the room with them. They immediately stood up and backed away from me when I entered. I examined the luggage minutely with my superhuman eyes, without even having to approach it. "The stitching is a little imperfect on two of the pieces." I observed. I looked from the suitcases to one of the men standing against the wall. "You," I commanded him, "come here!"
Nervously he took a couple of steps towards me. "I... I... didn't do the stitching." he stammered, clearly terrified.
"I don't care who did what," I told him. "You were all involved. Besides, you're all just men. It makes no odds to me which one of you gets punished."
"P-p-punished?" he swallowed. Hard.
"Well, obviously. You think I can let that less-than-perfect stitching go? Someone has to be punished for it. It might as well be you. Give me your hand."
"B-b-but it wasn't me, I did-" he protested.
"-Give me your hand or you're dead." I said, flatly. A wildly shaking hand was reluctantly proffered to me. Its owner shut his eyes and turned his head away. Laughing at his cowardice, I used my thumb and forefinger to break three of his fingers, one by one. I waited after each snap for his cry to fade before moving onto the next digit. Then I announced. "Now get out of my sight."
The one with the damaged fingers immediately rushed from the room. Behind him, his colleague began to follow. I put up one hand, blocking the second man's path. "Not you." I said. "You stay there." He was shaking as I turned back to the five bits of luggage and resumed my detailed scan of them.
"I don't like these fastening mechanisms that you've used." I said. "It looks like you've just cut the buckles off a bunch of belts and stitched them on. I wanted brass combination locks."
"But.. but that's all we had to work with!" the man in front of me wept. "This is the middle of the jungle, there's no brass and we've no experience in lock-making!"
"Well, you're scientists," I explained, "you should have worked out a way round a small logistical problem like that." An effortless flick of my left index finger against his left upper arm made him scream in pain. I could see from the bizarre angle his forearm was left hanging that I'd damaged something in there pretty badly. Already, a big, dark bruise was appearing where my fingertip had struck him. He looked with tear-filled eyes from his damaged limb to my face. "Lucky you." I told him. "I could have really hurt you. Now, get lost." He ran out of the room, clutching his busted arm.
After that, I carefully put my new suitcases together, each one inside the next largest until the whole set was inside the largest case. To me, it was weightless as I picked it up. It could have been filled with air or bricks, and it would have felt the same. I walked into the tiny sickbay where my some-time lover was lying under heavy sedation. Putting down the cases, I bent over him. "Wake up!" I said. He stirred, but his eyes didn't open. I grabbed his arm and squeezed it until the pain brought him round. He looked at me in that sweet mixture of terror and confusion that I often inspire in my "partners".
"I'm off now." I told him. "I just wanted to say thank you for the good times." I saw the look of total relief that washed over his features. The look vanished as quickly as it came when I went on "Also, I'd thought I'd screw you one last time, for the road."
"No! No! I can't! Please, I just can't..."
"Don't be so modest" I smiled.
"No! I mean it! The pain! The drugs! I couldn't get it up! I swear I couldn't!" he pleaded.
I leant in close to his face. Really close. "We'll see about that," I breathed, already reaching under the blanket for his organ. I threw the bed sheets off and gently stroked the end of his dormant member. He winced in pain, but he was responding to my touch. Stripping off, I jumped up onto his bed and sat on his belly, straddling him. He started to wail like a baby. To shut him up, I lowered my chest over his head, burying his face in my cleavage and smothering his cries with my flawless and erotic feminine flesh. Not only did that silence him, it also brought him quickly to a fully erect state.
I scooted down his body and lowered myself onto his upstanding organ. He started making all kinds of noise (shouts of pain, pleas for me to stop, wails of humiliation). To shut him up, I placed one open palm over his mouth and started to ride. I could feel him shooting his load within me after about twenty seconds. In response, I doubled the pace of my bouncing, continuing to take him in and out of me at that rate for several minutes until I reached my own orgasm. By the time I leapt off him, wiping his sweat and juices off me with his bedclothes, he was out cold and barely breathing, so there was no point bothering to thank him.
I slipped the two pieces of my bikini back on, picked up my cases and walked out of the installation. Outside, I leapt up onto the roof. Strolling around up there, I gave a few easy kicks of one of my long legs. Each kick tore a satellite dish from its mounting, smashed it well beyond repair, and sent the pieces flying maybe a mile into the jungle. Inside two seconds, I'd completely cut the research base off from the outside world. Things must have been awkward for the four guys in there. Poor boys: wounded, stuck in the middle of the jungle and with absolutely no means of communication. But like I said, they're scientists. They can figure something out.
Tuesday 14 June 2005 15:58 BST (GMT+1)
There are some limitations in life which (gasp!) even a superhuman, physically perfect being like me cannot escape from. Sure, I can go halfway around the world, wrestle giant snakes, have my way with scientists and so forth. But, I can't get away from myself.
Back here, it might be playing on my mind more, but I can't deny, it was bugging me back in the jungle too. Especially in those moments when I was bouncing up and down on top of that dishy researcher, trying to extract a little bit of pleasure from his pretty, but pathetically weak and fragile body. You should know by now that what I'm talking about is Ultragirl. She's the only person I've ever met who could really fulfil me.
The only problem is, instead of her being right here, with me (naked) she's thousands of miles away doing her little "tease" act. I know she wants me. This is what she wrote at her "members only" (yeah, right) Yahoo! group at the back-end of last month, after originally publicly denying sending me a declaration of love by email:
Okay, okay, so I sent an email! Hopefully Cf changed his password so that Blogger can't see this. What have I gotten myself into?! The League would kick me out. The public would hate me. I think I'm going to cry. Why would she do that to me after what I said to her?
Wait. It's not like they're going to believe her! She's deranged! She could have fabricated the whole thing to smear my image. Makes sense because she can't beat me physically. Next time she'll make it to orbit. I won't mess it up!
But, I'm so confused. She so beautiful. Everything about her is lovely. If she wasn't so difficult things wouldn't be so bad! I wonder if she's ever seen me when I'm floating high above her naked. To have someone so powerful adore you so much is a wonderful feeling. To bad I have to put her down. Maybe I'll have a bit of fun with my new body before I do it. This time, SHE gets the spanking! Of course, that's after I have her suckle my breasts! Oh, this is going to be fun!
And now this is (a partial extract of) an email she sent me at the weekend:
I've been away, I know. I had business in another galaxy. You wouldn't know how that feels would you? But you know how I feel, don't you? I actually missed you. You should come with me sometime. The weapons here don't feel near as good as the Galaxy Police's does. Imagine large naval-sized lasers swallowing your whole body. Lovely!
I'm going to give you the address of ********. He's an old boyfriend of mine. He's one of the "super strong" type. I want you to show him what real strength is, honey. Take your time, make him cry.
I'll be watching you from above. If you can, use your wonderful breasts to do most of the damage. Once he is humiliated and crying, then you and I will make love in front of him! That's right, lover, I'm all yours! Bite my nipples, lick me, do whatever you want to me!
Ohh, I'm so excited already!
Well, I reckon I'm going to be taking her up on her invitation. As soon as she lets me know where I can find her ex.
Wednesday 15 June 2005 17:22 BSTĚ(GMT+1)
So, I'm still waiting to hear from Ultradarling with her ex's address. I hope she's not getting cold feet now. Although, if she is, I know several very good ways of warming them.
I won't lie and say I'm not disappointed. The heavy rain falling this morning matched my mood quite well, in fact. I took advantage of it to go for a stroll in the deserted park. I picked a tree and set about working out my frustrations.With two punches from my little fists, the huge trunk snapped in half and the thing came crashing down. I then fell on it, using my hands to reduce that massive cylinder of wood to a billion matchsticks, chopping with the edge of my palms, tearing with my fingers, crushing and smashing with my fists.
I kept one short length of trunk intact. I lay on it, enjoying the way the hard, rough bark felt against my body with the heavy solid wood of the tree beneath it. Then my mind wondered, and I started imagining that instead of a trunk, my lovely Ultragirl was lying beneath me. I put my arms around "her" and squeezed her tight...
And that's when reality kicked back in. Unlike they had done against Ultragirl's wonderful body, my breasts didn't even yield momentarily to the tree. The huge heavy block of wood just crumbled to sawdust and splinters in my grasp, leaving me face-down on top of a pile of wood chippings.
I went home quickly as, frankly, I feared for the life of anyone who got in my way. Or didn't get in my way but just caught my eye for the wrong reason...
Thursday 16 June 2005 09:24 PST (GMT -7)
I'll have to be really brief today - I'm in an airport cafe, and my connecting flight leaves in just a few minutes.
In fact, I had to barge three people who were in front of me in the queue out of the way just to get to a terminal. I overdid it (naturally) elbowing one guy hard enough to break a couple of ribs, pushing a woman with sufficient force to send her diving into a table so that all its contents went flying and shoving an old fellow who ended up rolling for twenty yards along the carpeted floor. Of course, no-one noticed me in all the ensuing chaos, apart from a couple of guys who merely stared at me in lust.
You've probably guessed that I finally received that invitation I've been waiting for. I'm on my way there right now. In fact, it's time to board my flight. More from the scene tomorrow...
Saturday 18 June 2005 03:05 (GMT+10)
Ever noticed when a car-driver gets travel directions from a non-driver? The pedestrian will say "It's two minutes' walk. Just take the next right turn." The driver thanks her and sets off. Only when she gets to the turning, there's a big sign saying "No right turn." The pedestrian probably never noticed this; there's no sign saying you can't turn right when you're on foot.
It's a bit like that for me right now. Ultragirl's instructions for finding the island where her ex lives are really from the point of view of someone who can fly. Travel is a little different if you're on the ground. So, even though her description was clear, it took me quite a while to find the place. It didn't help that I couldn't find a boat from the mainland. I had to swim more than a hundred miles of the Pacific Ocean for starters.
I knew I'd finally arrived when, as I walked out of the sea, water glinting on my bikini'd body in the moonlight, I was greeted by a machine-gun toting goon in a ridiculous-looking red and yellow uniform. Ultragirl told me about the security team on the island and their peculiar dress in her directions. Don't ask me why a so-called superhero needs a security team, or why they dressed in red shirts and yellow trousers.
The one who yelled at me as I came ashore, pointing his weapon at my head, certainly wasn't very good at his job. I broke into a superspeed run towards him and, even though he had been fifty yards away when I started sprinting, I still managed to tear the gun from his hands before he could fire off a single round. I also tore a bit of hand away with the gun, but he didn't get to scream much as I quickly tapped him on the top of the skull with a finger, putting an end to all his troubles.
As I strolled away from his fallen body, two more red-and-yellow idiots came running down the beach. I kept walking towards them as they approached. I did not break my stride when they opened fire either. I just let the two streams of hot lead tear my clothes off my body and then bounce uselessly off my naked perfection. When I got within about twenty yards of them, I reached out, lazily, and grabbed a couple of ricocheting bullets from the air.
Placing one in each hand, I chucked them underhand at the two shooters. Needless to say, my casual throws sent the bullets back where they had come from about twice as fast as they had originally been fired at me. I could see the large hole my slugs tore through each one's chest, but a normal person might not have noticed at first because of their already-red shirts. That was three out of the security team down. I had been told there were nine in all.
The sound of gunfire brought two more running. They saw me from about fifty yards, lining me up in the sights of their weapons as they continued to charge at me. I didn't wait for them to start firing. I just pushed out my lips and blew a big kiss at them. My breath lifted a lot of sand from the beach. It also lifted the two guards and threw them backwards through the air.
I put just enough force into the puff to violently jerk their bodies. They never stood a chance. By the time I closed my lips and the pair came down, some thirty yards from where my superbreath had picked them up, they had both been shaken to death. And I hadn't even bothered to actually blow hard!
A strong sea breeze was criss-crossing the island and I used it to my advantage. By merely sniffing the air, I detected the scents of the rest of the guards. They were all close together. After a minute's walk following their smell, I found them in the little control hut where I'm sitting right now. It's got internet via satellite, you see, allowing me to post this blog entry.
It's a small, but very high-tech little one-room building. One wall is completely taken by electronic equipment, including this computer terminal. To my left, the doorway, with its metal door hanging from one hinge at a forty-five degree angle. All I did was push it open with one hand. I didn't realise it was locked until I saw the torn bolt.
By the door is the guy it hit when I pushed it in. He got smacked in the face, and he's not a pretty sight. There's another dead guy lying on top of a large CCTV console. He ran at me, I backhanded him across the room. Somehow, I don't think his head should be at the angle it now is from his body. Still, he's not complaining.
To my right, a third corpse is lying not far from my feet. He charged me with a night-stick. I just reached in and flicked him under the chin with my little finger. He bounced off the ceiling before coming to rest. Actually, now I look, part of him is still up there...
The fourth guard is still standing. He looks like a statue in fact, as if someone pressed a "Pause" button when he was in mid-stride towards me. The icicles hanging from his frosty features tell the real story. A really gentle, sharp blast of ultra-cold superbreath froze him in an instant. He's starting to drip a bit now. It's very warm in here.
So much for the security team, then. Nine men dispatched with about as much effort as it takes to raise an eyebrow. I do hope that Ultra's ex and his girlfriend (who's supposed to have some kind of powers too) are more of a challenge.I'm off to find them now...
Tuesday 21 June 2005 04:52 GMT+10
OK, so I told you how I dealt with this little island's so-called "security" team. And I mentioned I was off to find Ultragirl's ex and his current squeeze. Here's what happened next.
Ultrababe warned me that the new girlfriend had super-powers, so I wasn't sure what to expect. I guess her name - "Heat-Stroke" was a clue. Anyway, there's only one large villa with a pool on the island, so I knew that would be where I'd be most likely to find the lovely couple. In fact, I was still a mile away when my sensitive nostrils detected the girlfriend's not-exactly-cheap perfume. I prefer a natural scent myself, but it did save me time looking for her.
She was lying by the pool, sunning herself. At first glance, I couldn't believe that anyone could give up Ultra for her. I mean, sure she had nice tits (who doesn't, eh?) and a sexy pout but she's not fit to brush my darling Ultragirl's hair. I told her as much as I walked up to her. I said, "Hey pretty! I've got a message from your boyfriend's ex. And believe me, he took a step down when he picked you up."
I don't know why, but she seemed really pissed off with me. She raised her hands and I found out where she got her name. Two blasts of pure white light left her hands and flew straight at me. They didn't explode like bombs, they just sort of dissolved in heat, like a jolt of solar energy. So warm. Almost hot. They'd have seriously damaged my clothes if I had been wearing any.
I laughed as the wave of warmth began to dissipate, but I laughed too soon. It was like that ray I "borrowed" from the government a while back. Sure, the solar energy didn't hurt me, but it did have a profound effect on me. It made me horny. Really, really, brain-numbingly, fist-clenchingly horny. It felt almost as good as being touched by Ultragirl. Almost.
I closed my eyes. Heat-Stroke (bless her) must've seen it as a sign of weakness because she fired again. I don't know if she was aiming carefully, but the bolt of heat energy smacked me right between my naked breasts, sending me into an uncontrollable ecstasy. I couldn't help cupping myself and playing with my swelling nipples.
Of course, that left the rest of me unprotected and the silly cow took advantage by shooting off another blast. That one hit right between my thighs. Some of the heat even seemed to creep a little inside me. The pleasure was so intense, I fell onto my back. She must've thought she was defeating me in battle, because two more hot zaps struck me in my most tender region as I lay there.
I went into one of the best orgasms of my life. When I opened my eyes, Heat-Stroke was standing over me, bending down to examine my face. I was still out-of-control at that point. I can hardly even remember reaching up and placing my palms on her cheeks. Nor pulling her pretty face towards mine. Or planting my lips on hers.
But I do remember giving her the most passionate kiss I've given anyone in a long time, drawing air into my lungs as I did so. Maybe it was because I caught her off-guard but she wasn't a good kisser. Still burning with lust, I pressed my mouth harder against hers and kissed more insistently. That just got me the taste of blood. A second later, she went limp and fell onto me. I knew at once that I'd sucked all the life out of her. Her fault, I say, for getting me so worked up.
Hoping that Ultragirl was somewhere up in the clouds watching, I left Heat-Stroke's body by the pool and went into the villa in search of my real target. I searched every room, and found nothing. But I could definitely smell a trace of male in there. He must've bolted in the last few minutes. I went outside and shouted into the air. "He's not here! Give me a couple of minutes and I'll find him." All I could do was wish that my love heard me. I couldn't see her anywhere up there.
All that was left for me to do was find the poor runaway and bring him out into the open so Ultra could watch me teach him, as she so inspiringly put it, "the real meaning of strength."
Wednesday 22 June 2005 06:58 GMT+10
So, do you remember where we're at? I'm looking for Ultragirl's ex. On the island, the security team having taken early, permanent retirement, my "target"'s sun-blast-chucking girlfriend lifeless by the pool...
The guy wasn't in the villa. I picked up a very subtle hint of his scent and followed it down the side of the hill, towards the sea. In my experience, men have a very strong odour, which I can normally detect from a couple of miles away, but this guy's was much less clear. Maybe it was because he's a "super" type.
The scent got stronger down on the beach. There's a series of small caves at the bottom of the hill where the sand begins, and I worked out straight away that he had to be hiding in one of them. "Oh, Power-Plant!" I called out to him. There was no reply, so I tried his real name. "Hey, Trevor! I've got a message for you from Ultragirl!" Still, I got no answer
I was all prepared to search each cave one by one (the dark's no problem for my eyes) but the guy saved me the bother by throwing a rock at me from inside one of them as I passed in front of its mouth. Ultragirl had warned me that he's superstrong, and she wasn't lying. The rock he threw (at almost the speed of sound) was maybe four feet in diameter. Serious stuff!
Naturally, I didn't bother to dive out of the way. I just stood there and let the enormous ball of solid stone smash into my torso. The rock exploded on impact with my far harder body, little fragments of it flying in all directions. "Hey! That nearly tickled!" I called into the cave from which it had been launched.
Another huge lump of rock followed a moment later. This time I was facing it full on. It just crumbled to dust as it slammed onto my naked chest. It didn't feel a quarter as good as Heat-Stroke's blasts had done. "You're wasting our time, Trevor." I said. "Why don't you come out and fight like your girlfriend tried to?"
"What have you done with her?" came a ridiculously pompous voice from inside the cave.
"I kissed her, then dumped her. Just like you did to Ultragirl. Too bad you couldn't be there for Heat-Stroke, Trevor. She might still be alive if you had."
"You bitch! Who are you?"
"I'm a friend of Ultragirl's. Now, are you coming out or do I have to come in and get you?" I was already walking into the cave as I said that. Somehow I knew that the coward would never come out of his own accord.
Inside the pitch black cave, I scanned all around and saw nothing. Not because my eyes weren't more than capable of seeing in the dark (they were) but because, as I found out after some further searching, Trevor was hiding behind a rock. With a flick of my wrist, I tore his hiding place away and sent it flying into the wall of the cave.
Power-Plant stood up and punched me. Only Ultragirl has ever punched me so hard. His big fist landed right on my chin, almost even pushing my head back. His next blow was against my cheek. The Clank! was like steel hitting steel. "Nice try" I smiled.
That seemed to wind him up. He unleashed a flurry of punches at my body, some striking my breasts (and feeling quite nice) and some hitting my belly (and barely registering at all). When he was done, he was puffing for breath. I put my hands on my hips and laughed. "Is that it? Is that the best that the great Power-Plant can manage? I wonder what Ultragirl ever saw in you."
I picked him up by his armpit with my right hand and started to walk out of the cave. He tried everything - pulling, punching, pinching, kneeing, kicking, biting - to get out of my grasp, but to be honest, it wasn't exactly hard to ignore him. Once we were out of the cave, I dumped him on the sand and threw myself down on top of him before he could move.
"You think you're so strong, don't you, Trevor." I told him. "You think you're such a big, macho, man. Let me show you some real strength. Female strength. Not with rocks. Not with big hairy fists like you. But with these." I shook my pendant breasts over his face to illustrate what I was talking about.
Immediately, he reached up and grabbed hold of my left mound. Even his big bear-like hand wasn't large enough to completely encircle me, but he did his best, squeezing with all his might until his face went purple and his eyes looked ready to pop out of his skull. Of course, his best efforts barely dented my soft round flesh. "Pathetic." I told him. One gentle shake of my chest and his hand was knocked away.
I grabbed hold of one of his wrists with each of my hands and pinned them, with very little difficulty, either side of his head. Then I leant over him until my nipples were brushing his cheeks. "Let me show you some real female strength." I said.I began with a gentle swaying of my hanging breasts, letting the outside of my bust slap alternating sides of his skull, knocking his head one way then the other. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" was all he had to say to that, so I moved up a gear, raising myself up slightly, then dropping my chest quickly onto random bits of his face. That brought forth cries of "Ooof!" and "Ack!" to go with the continuing "Ow!"s
The next step was to just press my breasts into his head. I started on his chin then his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his eye-sockets. I can't really spell the sounds he was making by this point (they were more like screams than words). To stop the racket I smothered his mouth in my cleavage, holding myself on his face until he finally shut up.
I lifted myself up and looked down on a very strangely-coloured Power-Plant. His skin was light blue in a few patches, although those quickly turned pink as he gulped down air. Most of his head though, was purple. Bruised as badly as anything I've ever seen (or caused, for that matter). "So are you ready for Round 2, Trevor?" I asked.
"No.. No.. Please... no...."
"Oh, I insist." I smiled, shaking my breasts very slightly. The sight made him wince in terror.
"No! I beg you! Please... I... I... I believe.... in..... f-f-female p-power! You're... you're... better than me. Please! No more!" A single tear appeared in his swollen eye as he pleaded. I'd done what Ultragirl had asked me to do.
Standing up, I rested one foot gently on Power-Plant's chest (just enough to stop him getting up). Turning my face to the sky, I shouted to the clouds where I hoped Ultragirl was watching "It's done, my love! Come and see for yourself!"
Nothing happened for a few seconds and then... Oh, let's save that for tomorrow.
Thursday 23 June 2005 02:56 GMT+10
With Power-Plant (AKA Trevor) battered and crying as I rested my foot triumphantly on his chest, I was scanning the sky, waiting for my date. She had promised she'd be watching, and that she'd come and join me once I had dealt with her pathetic old flame. But where was she?
"Ultragirl!" I shouted into the air, loud enough to start a minor rock-slide from the nearby cliffs and make Power-Plant cover his bruised ears with his hands. Ten seconds passed. Then I saw a little dot in the distant, morning sky. That dot became large very quickly. There was the lovely Whoosh! that accompanies Ultragirl's arrival and then she was there. Floating in the air, about ten yards from me.
I couldn't believe my eyes. She'd told me she'd been working out, but never would I have imagined what she meant. She was covered in muscles! Huge, bulging muscles everywhere. Her formerly shapely arms were now rippling with brawn. Her thighs, once so sexily rounded were now enormous. Her beautiful, flat stomach had become a rigid six-pack. This wasn't my pretty feminine Ultragirl. It was her steroid-addicted twin sister!
"Oh my god! What have you done to yourself?" I asked, horrified.
"Don't you like it?" she responded, rotating in the air, so that I could see that her back was as muscular as her front. She zoomed up close to me and put her arms around me. I tried to shrug her off and found, to my shock, that it was harder - a lot harder - than last time. She planted her lips on my mouth. I have to admit that was lovely; a kiss firmer and more passionate than any I've ever had. I yielded a little to her.
She was squeezing me tight now. It was nice - no, it was great - to feel another body compressing mine. My breasts were even flattening slightly against hers, something which I'd never properly experienced before. But the curves I'd been longing to feel weren't there. I tried to break off the kiss, but it was a real struggle. No sooner had I managed when Ultragirl started trying to push me down. Last time we met, I found it easy to resist her. This time... Well, I think she must've caught me by surprise because I ended up on my back on the sand next to Power-Plant.
Instantly Ultragirl was on top of me, her mouth covering my neck with kisses, which did feel fantastic. Suddenly though, she was kissing my breast. I squealed with delight as she sucked on my nipple but her thick arm lay across my body and I could feel its muscles pressing into me. I tried to move it but it was a real challenge.
I've got to be honest, it wasn't just the muscles that were turning me off. It was the thought that I wasn't so much stronger than her anymore. I like being in complete control. I was beginning to get the impression that Ultra was more in charge than me as she worked my breast with her tongue. I tried to wriggle out and she held me in place.
It took all my strength to get out from under her. As soon as I did, she used her flight powers to crash down on top of me again. Within a second, her hands were all over my body. I admit it was lovely to be touched by someone so strong, but the Ultragirl I'd been dreaming about just wasn't like this. I wriggled away again.
"You really don't like me like this, do you?" she observed.
"I'm sorry." I said. It was the first time in my life I'd ever said those words and genuinely felt them.
"Well, one for the road then, honey." Ultragirl said. She flew at me, clamped her hands on my face and kissed me hard. I don't think I could have slipped away even if I'd tried for all I was worth. It was a really strange experience. She broke off the kiss and just flew away. I was left standing there, utterly confused.
I've spent the last few days here on the island, trying to get it all straight in my head, making use of Power-Plant's villa whilst he sleeps on the beach. Now it's time for me to head off for home. I don't know if I'll ever recover from the disappointment of my beautiful Ultragirl becoming a body builder.
Thursday 23 June 2005 08:59 PST (GMT-7)
So, here we are again. Another rushed airport update.
I'm en-route back home, catching a connecting flight. I really hate this airport. I think I'll go and beat up some of the staff before I have to board the plane.
Friday 24 June 2005 15:52 BST (GMT+1)
Got to say, I'm glad to be home.
I mean, tiny Pacific islands are very pretty and all that, but once you've torn apart the security team, killed the girlfriend and beaten the crap out of the ex-boyfriend (all for the sake of a jealous lover who ends up letting you down badly), well, there's not much else to do.
I thought I knew just about everything there is that's worth knowing, but (amazingly) the events of the last few days have taught me a few things:Lesson One: There's no point having "feelings" for other people, because they just disappoint you in the end. I travelled halfway around the world for Ultragirl, took out a small army for her amusement, killed Heat-Stroke (who never did anything bad to me other than unwittingly give me a terrific orgasm) and gave that pompous arse Power-Plant a tit-beating that (being male) he probably enjoyed despite his injuries.
For all that I'd have charged an employer a small fortune. For Ultragirl, because I had "feelings" for her, I stupidly did it for free. And what did I get? Not the beautiful, curvaceous, strong-but-not-as-strong-as-me girl who'd been monopolising my thoughts. No, I got a weird copy of her, all muscles and look-how-strong-I-am-now... I'm off women now. And unless Ultragirl goes back to her former, gorgeous self, I'm off women permanently.
Lesson Two: I hate airports. I hate queuing with lesser beings, waiting for incredibly slow, weak creatures to move their ridiculously light luggage around. I could lift a full 747 with one hand. Why should I have to hang around because other people can't even lift a single suitcase with two hands? I wish I could fly. Then I wouldn't have to travel anywhere with pathetic "normals".
The west-coast American airport I had to change at on the way out and the way back last time was particularly depressing. First there was the farce of grabbing an internet terminal to post the blog on my way out. Then there's the fact that the place is full of happy people (ugh) with expensive cosmetic surgery. All those fake breasts! And none of them a quarter as beautiful or a twentieth as sexy as my natural endowments.
It was even worse on the way back. I had to queue twice! Even though I tossed six or seven idiots out of my way, I was still kept waiting for nearly two minutes. There's no way someone as physically magnificent and powerful as me should have to put up with that.
Even the toilet was a disgusting mess, although I admit that was partly my fault. I was in a bad mood and the young man at the coffee-bar just kept staring at my chest as if I was an exhibit in a gallery. (Huh! I'm vastly more beautiful than any mere work of art.) What else could I do, other than drag him into the women's room when no-one was looking and throw him across the room?
And if he cut his leg open, incurring a deep gash from his ankle to above his knee on the porcelain sink I'd smashed with an impatient tap of my finger, well it's not my fault that his blood smeared all over the floor. They should clean their conveniences better.
Lesson Three: In order to match my fantastic strength, Ultragirl has had to work like a dog in the gym for months, acquiring huge muscles and severely compromising her former beauty. I may not be able to state with complete certainty that I'm the strongest being in the Solar System now. But I'm absolutely sure that I am the most beautiful and (by a massive margin) the most sexy.
Ultragirl can (and should!) lose that musculature. Then she'd be close to me in the gorgeousness stakes once more. But that would leave her miles behind in the power league. She cannot compete with me on both fronts at the same time. So, this whole, sorry escapade has at least had one positive outcome: it has proven once and for all, that in terms of strength and beauty, I am simply untouchable.
Although, we kind of knew that already, didn't we?
Monday 27 June 2005 17:15 BST (GMT+1)
How was your weekend? (Don't answer. I couldn't care less how it was.) The important thing is that mine was great.
It was lovely to be at home with no other-people's-ex-boyfriends to humiliate. I'm through with doing favours. From now on, any small army I destroy will be because I feel like destroying it. Any stupid men I beat up with my breasts will be because I think it will be a fun thing to do. For me. And no-one else.
Like the story in this morning's paper: "Freak amplifier accident leaves four band members deaf." (It wasn't a "freak accident", of course. More on that in a moment.) The key thing is, the "incident" didn't occur because someone I fancied asked me to do it. It happened because I felt like doing it.
It was Sunday morning and I was out for a walk in a normally quiet part of town when my ears were accosted by the sound of a very, very bad rock band. It was muffled and distant, but, with my supersenses, I had no trouble identifying the source of the noise. I followed it until I came to a closed parking garage in a residential street.
I banged on the garage door a few times, but unsurprisingly, I wasn't heard. So I drew back my right foot and swung it, fairly softly, at the metal panel. My casual punt (it wasn't firm enough to be called a kick) tore a big hole in the aluminium door. The racket inside finally stopped.
I widened the hole by simply strolling through, letting my body rip and compress the metal as it needed to allow me to pass through. Inside the garage, I stared down each of four acne-ridden adolescents in turn. One of them (I think he might have been the so-called singer as he was the only one without an instrument) tried to act cool for his friends.
"Hey babe," he said, "if our music's too loud for you, you should get a pair of earplugs."
"It's not too loud." I told him. "It's too crap." He seemed a little disappointed by my reaction. I assumed that he didn't appreciate my criticism, but it actually turned out that he was more concerned about sound volume than quality.
"But... you got to admit," he countered. "We are pretty loud."
I dismissed his claim. "I can make more noise by whistling." I said.
"Yeah sure, babe." the possible singer laughed.
So, I had to show them. I pursed my lips and carefully blew through them to make a note. A very loud note. Nowhere near my loudest, but enough to make my point. Immediately, all four band members put their hands over their ears. A small glass window in the far wall shattered. Two of the guys collapsed to the ground, rolling about furiously. One of the others sank to his knees. The fourth bent over double as if punched in the stomach.
I held the note for about three seconds, then closed my lips to make it stop. I could see trickles of blood appearing from the ears of a couple of the young men. "Still don't think I can make more noise than you?" I asked them, but no-one replied. Reading the headline in the paper this morning, I think I know why.
Tuesday 28 June 2005 17:48 BST (GMT+1)
It's been another lovely day in the lovely single life of Blogger today.
I've gotten myself a new pet for company. I couldn't decide between a cat or a dog, so I got neither in the end. I had to go to quite a few pet-shops before I found what I was looking for, but I'm pleased with my choice. He's a male and I call him "Spot". I think his name was previously Steve or something like that, but I prefer my choice.
There was some fuss in the shop when I announced which animal I wanted to take but, as regular readers know, I can be very persuasive. In the end, it didn't cost me a penny. In fact, there was no-one to take my money anyway once I'd found a box big enough and stuffed my new pet into it. I had to put some cloth in its mouth to stop it shouting "Let me out! I'm a man not an animal!".
I got a leash from the shop and fitted it when I got home. It's come in handy for training. I can yank it to make my pet come flying to me, or to stop it going on the furniture. After a few minute's initial instruction which mostly involved picking it up and throwing it across the room to teach it who is in charge, it has been fairly-well behaved.
It's at my feet now, looking up at me in cute supplication while I'm typing this. I've got its leash in my hand. When I'm done, I'm going to give it a sharp tug and make him fly up onto my lap. Here I go then...
Wednesday 29 June 2005 16:58 BST (GMT+1)
The last twenty-four hours with my new pet (Spot) have been extremely enlightening.
I've learnt a lot. Like how to jerk his leash so that his whole body is lifted from the ground and slams into mine. We both find that very funny. Well, I find it funny, and it doesn't matter what he thinks. I've also worked out how to yank his lead so that he spins up through the air over my head and lands on the other side of me. I haven't found a practical use for that trick yet, but I'm going to keep doing it until I think of something.
I heard of some (vastly less powerful and beautiful) women who, by carefully applying food to certain areas of their bodies, encourage their dogs to pleasure them with their tongues. With Spot, it's much easier. I don't have to bother with the food for starters. I just strip, sit on a chair with my legs apart, and tug his leash so that he flies, head-first, straight at my groin. Then I instruct him "Spot, lick!" and he obeys. He's so sweet, he never stops until he passes out from exhaustion.
I think he loves me. He's so attentive and obedient. I'm sure that the fact that he knows I'll kill him with a flick of a finger if he ever displeases me is only a small part of it. Tomorrow, I might reward him with a walk in the park. On his leash, of course.
Thursday 30 June 2005 23:54 BST (GMT+1)
A rainy last day for June 2005, but it didn't spoil my walk in the park with Spot one little bit.
My new pet complained a bit, naturally. I told it that it should grow fur like normal pets, or become superhuman like me. It kept shivering under the rain. Quite a few times, I had to jerk the leash to stop him talking. "I'm cold.. please let me put some clothes on" and "This is so humiliating, crawling naked on a lead in public".
After a couple of the gentlest of slaps (barely enough to send it rolling a dozen times and leave dark purple bruises), Spot learnt to keep quiet. When it tired and started to become too slow for my liking, I just dragged it through the grass and the mud, its weight at the end of the leash hardly noticeable to me.
By the time we got home, he was filthy. I made it wash the mud off itself in a deep puddle outside my building. He left a few footprints on my carpet, which I dealt with by picking it up with my left hand under his belly until its face was level with mine. I told him if he left any more mess, I'd hurt him really badly and then tossed it across the room into the far wall to make my point.
When he came to, I was already sitting in my favourite armchair, having long since removed all my clothes. "Spot!" I called, pulling the lead so that he was violently tugged towards me, "Lick!"