Blogger's Archives

June 2007

Tuesday 5 June 2007 17:52 BST (GMT+1)

I’m going to start off this post with a statement: As a vastly superior being, I don’t owe you anything.

I don’t have to give any explanations as to why I haven’t posted for a couple of weeks, or why I left off for so long without completing my latest report. (Remember? I was telling you all about my fun and games encased in the heart of a slab of solid steel…)

No-one could ever make me reveal where I’ve been because no-one is strong enough to hurt me or capable of inventing a weapon powerful enough to threaten me with. You can safely assume that, as I’ve been away for a fortnight and I’m quite capable of flying across a continent in a minute, I was quite a long way away.

Maybe sometime I’ll let you know more about it. Suffice to say, it wasn’t a particularly fun trip. At least I found what I was looking for although I don’t know yet if it was worth the boredom I went through obtaining it…

Anyway, last time I wrote, I was describing how I was flitting around the world having set myself deep within in a massive, oblong block of solid, featureless steel. With careful application of my amazing powers of flight, I was able to steer the unlikely craft in any way imaginable, convincing the people I “buzzed” that I was a bizarre, hyper-advanced space-ship on a visit from another world.

After amusing myself for a few hours, scaring people in remote places, scattering picnickers in panic, making vehicles swerve off country roads, chasing farm workers around fields and freaking out a bunch of border patrolmen, I used my X-ray vision abilities to see through the metal surrounding me and glance at the watch on the left wrist of a young man as he ran away screaming “Help I’m being chased by a UFO!”. The watch showed me that it was time to go.

Ten minutes later, I was a couple of thousand miles away (well, I had to fly slowly to protect the poor, fragile steel.) A major world superpower’s government has a secret department dedicated to looking for, discovering and contacting alien life forms. This secret department, naturally, has a secret headquarters. It’s located just outside the country’s capital city and it’s there that I flew the slab.

I say “secret” department, but I found out about it easily enough. I just asked the right people the right questions in the right way. Some started out all coy, all “I don’t care what you do to me, I won’t tell you anything”. The fun part is getting them to change their minds: snapping an arm with a flick of my finger, breaking a leg with a tap of my toe, shattering a jawbone with a lash of my tongue… Crushing a palm against my big, perfect breast. Crushing several ribs against both my big, perfect breasts. Crushing a nose between my breasts… In the end, of course, they always tell me everything I want them too. (Unless I get a little carried away and have too much fun with them.)

As well as the existence of the, ahem, “secret” department, the location of its H.Q. and a list of the prominent scientists and researchers “secretly” associated to it, I also managed to find out exactly when the next top-level meeting was being held. So it was no accident that almost all the major associates were seated around a large table in the top-floor conference room, halfway through their regular summit, when I (or more precisely, the block of steel containing me) crashed through the ceiling and stopped, hovering perfectly still, about six inches above the plaster-and-rubble-strewn desk.

The experts at the table, all of them men, varied in age and condition from those who dived immediately behind their high-backed chairs to those who got up laboriously slowly and shuffled awkwardly behind the seats. Regardless of relative speed-of-movement (relative to me, the fastest among them was unbearably slow), they all had the same idea: take cover from the object.

With my mouth full of solidified steel, I couldn’t properly laugh at the reaction my entrance had caused, but I was highly amused by the announcement, made by a middle-aged professor of astronomy: “Gentlemen, it seems what we have been looking for has decided to come to us.”

Anyway, I’ll tell you what happened after that in my next post. Aren’t you glad to have me back?

Wednesday 6 June 2007 17:39 BST (GMT+1)

It was safe for me to assume that I had the attention of everyone in the room.

Then again, I had made an impressive entrance. A nation’s top scientists, astronomers and biologists cowered behind their chairs whilst I, disguised as a U.F.O in the shape of a featureless, oblong block of smooth steel, hovered above their conference table.

One of them, a skinny man with grey hair wearing an ill-fitting, expensive-but-styleless suit, finally plucked up the courage to stand and face the metal obelisk. Opening his arms in a gesture he’d no doubt been rehearsing for years, he said “Welcome!”

I floated the steel block slowly over the table towards him. Nervously, he took a step back as I approached.

“Er…” the ageing man stammered. “on behalf of everyone here in this room…” the way he referred to the other people in the room made it clear he wished the strange object would show a little less interest in him in particular and a little more in someone (anyone) else. “…and of our national government, I would like to extend a greeting of friendship and co-operation to you and, er…”

I was on the move again, now no longer over the table, but starting to cross the room in slow, measured pursuit of the grey-haired fellow who was backing off more and more insistently. Unsurprisingly, the more I neared him, the more flustered he became. Meanwhile, the others round the table seemed quite content to remain crouched behind their chairs and watch.

“…to you and your… er… your….“ Sweat was now beginning to bead on his forehead. He was trembling too. I continued to drift towards him until, inevitably, he’d backed up against a wall. “ and your….coll- er… fellow um… ali- um… beings.”

I, or rather the smooth face of the steel slab, was just a few yards from him, the bottom edge of the metal level with his waist, the top only about a foot from the damaged ceiling. Because of the way the room’s lighting was arranged, the block of steel cast an ominous shadow over him.

“Please!” he said, a little too desperately before nervously modifying it to “Please… don’t come any closer.”

Naturally, I continued to move towards him.

More next post.

Thursday 7 June 2007 23:53 BST (GMT+1)

So, there I was (in the form of a huge, rectangular steel obelisk), slowly advancing on an ever-more panicky scientist who had backed himself up against a wall.

Behind me (or rather, behind the obelisk,) eight other prominent space-experts peered out from behind the high-backed chairs they were using for cover. Regardless of the thick, solid metal that engulfed me, completely filling my ears, my superhearing still picked up three, simultaneous, whispered conversations between the cowering men.

"We should do something," one man hissed to his neighbour. "In case it turns out to be hostile."

"If it's hostile, I don't think we can do anything" came the hushed, frightened reply.

I would have smiled, if only the movement of my face muscles wouldn't have damaged the steel moulded around them. How right that pessimist was!

"They must have chosen us for a reason. They must know that our group is dedicated to contacting them." Another scientist with a comically high-pitched voice was postulating, sotto voce.

"Maybe they don't know about our purpose," suggested his whispering partner.

"Why have they come here of all places then?" the squeaker countered.

"Perhaps they can sense our superior intellects."

It took all of my superhuman self-control not to ruin the game there and then by bursting out in hysterical laughter, no doubt rupturing the solid metal all around me. Such arrogance from such a pathetic creature!

By then, my slab was almost touching the terrified man against the wall. I was just wondering whether I should continue to advance until the smooth flat face of the steel pressed against him hard enough to crack a few of his over-fragile male bones or whether I should keep going for a while longer after that until every last one of those feeble bones was shattered, when I noticed his heart-rate and breathing altering.

Of course, I instantly recognised the telltale signs of a man about to pass out. I let him slide down the wall and crumple up on the floor beneath the bottom of the obelisk, underneath my feet which remained hidden from view inside the metal.

Although I could not be seen inside the block, my X-ray vision allowed me a perfect view through the steel. However, I couldn't turn my head without rendering the solid metal as it was set fast, so to observe the still-conscious majority behind me, I had to rotate the entire slab in mid-air.

"Why is it turning?" someone whispered.

"Maybe it's facing us."

"What's it done to Frank?"

"How can you tell which side is its face?"

"I think he just fainted."

"Oh god, it's coming towards us now!"

I moved my block quickly back towards the table, come to a rest hovering once again over the centre of it.

But I wasn't still for long. More on that in my next post.

Tuesday 12 June 2007 17:02 BST (GMT+1)

So, I left off my report at the end of my last post with me still inside that slab of steel, hovering vertically over the centre of a big conference table.

Various “top” scientists were positioned around the table, not in their seats, but cowering behind them. On the other side of the room, another of them lay on the floor having fainted from fear. Although all the (conscious) eyes in the room were locked on the metal encasing me, the men around me were still conducting hushed discussions between themselves:

“Someone should try and communicate with it.”

“Isn’t that what Dr. Rocken tried?”

“Do you think it can talk to us?”

“Well, it’s clearly intelligent, so possibly, yes.”

“Someone should try.”

“Why don’t you, then?”

“Um… I’m not… not qualified... I mean… I don’t… I haven’t prepared anything…“

“OK, OK,” said a fellow with neat red hair. I’d guess he was in his mid-forties, making him the youngest male present, “I’ll do it.”

The redhead stood up, and, his voice shaking, addressed me. Or rather, he addressed the steel slab. “Can you understand me?” I did not move or give any other sign of acknowledgement. Slowly, he raised his trembling left arm, opening his hand and holding it out towards me. “This is our gesture of welcome,” he announced, failing utterly to hide his fear.

I couldn’t resist. Although I couldn’t narrow my encased-in-steel eyes, I was still able to produce a beam of energy. I took care to ensure that my lasers left the metal untouched, concentrating all of their heating effects on my selected target: the extended hand of the red-haired scientist.

To the watching men, it would have looked like two red beams shot from the smooth featureless surface of the steel obelisk. In truth, of course, the beams originated deep within the block, in my beautiful eyes. As they hit the male’s blotchy palm, his flesh sizzled. He screamed as black smoke rose from his hand and staggered backwards, clutching his wrist.

“Are you alright?” someone asked him.

“My hand! It’s… it’s ruined!” spluttered the wounded man. “The pain! Oh, the pain!!”

I fought hard not to burst out laughing.

Meanwhile, the other men were getting increasingly nervous. Glances were being shot between my slab and the door. I might have been surrounded by solid metal, but my superhuman senses were undimmed. I could hear the increasing heart-rates and smell the oh-so-familiar and ever more pungent scent of scared males. (That has to be one of my favourite odours.)

I couldn’t turn around without rotating the entire massive slab and despite all my amazing powers, I don’t have eyes in the back of my head. So it was my super-hearing rather than my X-ray vision or super-sight that told me one of the men crouching at the end of the table behind me was starting to creep about. I knew at once that his intended destination was the exit door.

As regular readers know, there are various rules that apply to any meeting at which I am present, whether or not I’ve been invited or I’ve just decided to turn up (or crash in through the ceiling). Two of the most relevant of those rules are:

1) No meeting involving me can be considered over unless either: (a) I have declared it over, announced my decision and dismissed the others present or (b) All other parties present at said meeting are dead or unconscious.

2) No individual is allowed to leave any meeting at which I am present before its conclusion unless I command them to leave.

Of course, as with any rules I make, these are subject to alteration according to my whim of the moment. Note that my standard right to hurt and damage inferior beings with impunity, purely for my own amusement, remains unaffected.

Anyway, back in that meeting room, the middle-aged male attempting to crawl around the table to get to the door was in clear breach of the rules. I hadn’t said the meeting was over or that he could go. As he was still behind me (middle-aged “ordinary” males are very slow crawlers) I couldn’t punish him with a blast of heat-vision until he made his excruciatingly sluggish way past the edge of the slab and came within range.

I was waiting patiently for the chance to fry him when one of the other males intervened. From behind his chair, as the would-be escapee crawled by, the intervener hissed “Don’t go! The… the ‘thing’ might think it was a hostile act!”

“Hostile?” whispered the crawler. “Hostile? What do you call whatever it did to Franker’s hand?”

“That might not have been an intentional wounding! Maybe the ‘thing’ was just returning his gesture of greeting.”

“It didn’t look like that to me!” insisted the one trying to leave.

“Don’t go! I… I won’t let you!”

“You can’t stop me!”

Just out of my view, a scuffle quickly developed between the two men. I couldn’t see anything, but what I heard told me that neither of the two combatants were competent fighters. In the confusion, a third man, further around the table, decided to make a bolt for it. He didn’t bother to crawl, instead standing and sprinting for the door.

His route to the exit was short, only about ten steps, but it brought him directly in front of me. I zapped him in the backside with enough power to make him scream and leap about four foot into the air. The air filled with the smell of burnt flesh as the seat of his trousers, his underwear and the top inch of his rear were turned to charcoal. Within a second, he had passed out, collapsing face-down onto the carpet, smoke rising from his huge, charred wound.

“Nobody else move!” screamed the man who had been fighting with the crawler. “It doesn’t want us to move!” Judging by the sounds of exertion and cloth rubbing against cloth, the wrestling-match was still in progress.

“What makes you the expert?” panted the crawler. There was a dull thud and then a loud “Ooof!” I guessed that crawler had elbowed intervener in the belly, giving himself a few moments to break away. This was confirmed a moment later, when a man appeared in the corner of my field of vision, jogging awkwardly towards the door.

This time I took rather more direct action, floating my slab quickly around him, spinning it vertically half a revolution before “parking” it right in front of the doorway, completely blocking the exit.

From this new station, I could see the whole room and everyone in it. The crawler was only a few yards away, directly in front of me. He looked up, startled to see his escape obstructed. He turned to glance over his shoulder at the others, perhaps appealing for help. Unsurprisingly, no assistance was forthcoming, so he looked back towards the huge slab of steel, eyes wide with terror.

“Don… Don’t h-h-hurt me,” he said in a pathetic voice. If my eyes hadn’t been encased along with the rest of me in a slab of solid steel, I’d have rolled them. I mean… since when did I do anything a mere man asked me to?

He’d barely finished his futile plea when the twin lasers shot from my eyes, not even warming the metal slab a single degree above room temperature as they passed through. It was a very different matter at the other end of the beams, however. They converged on crawler’s ankles, generating temperatures in the thousands of degrees, very neatly severing his two feet. He was unconscious before he even had time to scream. A second later, he toppled to the ground like a felled tree.

Most of the rest of those present gasped as they stared in terror at the two smoking, truncated feet still in their shoes and the footless body lying beside them

“See?” said intervener, triumphantly, “I told you!” With his shirt torn (presumably in the struggle with crawler), he resembled a child who had just won a playground dispute. “It doesn’t want us to m-“

I cut him off, mid-sentence because I was beginning to tire of the sound of his voice. A quick zap of precision heat-vision aimed perfectly at the interior of his throat permanently pressed his “mute” button. After that, I was free to blast him twice more, once in each thigh, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to scream, no matter how much pain the two big burn wounds were causing him. He rolled about the floor, mouth open, tears streaming down his cheeks, in silent agony.

No-one else in the room moved. Or spoke. The next move was being left for me.

In my next post, I’ll tell you what that move was.

Wednesday 13 June 2007 17:52 BST (GMT+1)

There they were, a room full of top space experts (minus the ones who were unconscious) waiting to find out what the big steel slab was going to do next…

Little did they know, of course, that the slab was not an extraterrestrial craft but nothing more than a bunch of melted down, re-cast building-site girders. Even littler did they know that set inside that re-formed block was a girl.

Not just any girl, either. Oh no indeed! The most beautiful, sexy, desirable girl that has ever lived. And she was completely naked in there. Amazingly, given that girl’s indescribable gorgeousness, her looks aren’t even the most impressive thing about her:

Her lovely, slender body is more powerful than any other known force! She can move planets with her shapely arms. She can generate never ending hurricane winds that can level cities just by pursing her sexy lips and effortlessly blowing. She can crush the hardest most resilient materials in the universe to atoms between her superhumanly firm, big round breasts. And nothing, nothing at all, no gun, no bomb, no laser, no supernova can even scratch her perfect, silky skin.

That girl is me.

You already knew that, I know. But it’s fun to remind you every so often just how privileged you are to be allowed this insight into my incomparable existence.

Of course, the men in that room were even more privileged as they were actually in my presence. Sadly for them, they weren’t aware that they were so close to a perfect untouchable goddess. At that moment, they were just waiting to see if what they thought was a U.F.O. was going to communicate with them.

But communication was an issue. My lips were encased in solidified steel. It’s not that the two-foot thick metal prevented me from talking. I could have opened my mouth and spoken, moving my devastatingly erotic lips, tongue and teeth as easily as I do when I’m not “buried” inside a steel obelisk. But the effortless movement of my jaw would have deformed the steel, stretching, bending and compressing it and that might have given away my little ruse.

So I thought of another way of communicating, using my heat vision.

My control over that power is now as precise as my control over the powers I’ve had all my life. So it was no difficulty at all for me to use my lasers to burn into the lacquered top of the big table without affecting the steel around me in any way. I worked fast, moving the ends of the beams exactly as I wanted, burning lines about half-an-inch deep and a quarter of an inch wide into the varnished wood.

In less than a second, I’d burnt onto the table-top, in perfectly formed letters, the words:


There was a brief pause whilst the astonished men read the message. Then a mass panic as they raced to comply with the instructions. Jackets, shirts, trousers, underwear were flung all over the place and six naked, far-from-young males hurried towards the back wall of the room. Not for the first, second or third time, I regretted the way I couldn’t laugh out loud without damaging the steel.

I could tell pretty quickly that one of the six men wasn’t going to get to the wall before the half-minute deadline elapsed. I zapped him with a quick blast of heat-vision in his head whilst he was still struggling with his underpants. One of the remaining five screamed as the now headless corpse fell to the floor. I burnt the words “I SAID: THIRTY SECONDS” into the carpet beside the body.

Then I wrote “STOP SCREAMING OR YOU’RE NEXT” at the feet of the yeller. Naturally, he shut up immediately.

I gazed over the five naked old men, trembling as they stood against the wall, wondering what I would get them to do next.

Find out in my next post…

Thursday 14 June 2007 22:47 BST (GMT+1)

Men! So weak, so fragile... So simple to manipulate, so easy to break. So effortless to hurt, so enjoyable to terrify and so very, very much fun to tease...

Take the five old scientists who'd stripped and lined up against the wall on my orders. Well, OK. Not exactly my orders but, more precisely, orders carved by lasers that emerged from a metallic, rectangular slab-like UFO. Of course the UFO was just me hiding inside the steel block and the lasers were my heat-vision, but as far as the useless men knew, they were in the presence of an inexplicable alien craft. And, of course, they were too terrified not to obey. Much to my amusement.

I decided to tease them a little more. As I explained in recent posts, talking to them was not an option. I was running out of places to burn written messages with my heat-vision, but there was still a blank wall I hadn't yet used, so that's where I zapped out "YOU WILL SHORTLY BE TRANSPORTED TO OUR SOLAR SYSTEM FOR EXPERIMENTATION."

The men gasped in unison. I let the shock sink in and then added: "BUT FIRST YOU WILL BE TESTED FOR SUITABILITY. THOSE THAT DO NOT SATISFY OUR TESTS WILL" I paused for quite a few seconds at that point, allowing the tension build nicely before completing the sentence: "BE ELIMINATED."

If the five men were scared out of their wits before, they were now scared out of their minds. They really believed they were in the presence of a bizarre extraterrestrial entity that was offering them two possible futures: being captive test-subjects on an alien planet or being turned to charcoal. You should have seen their faces when, half-a-minute later, I laser-wrote on the wall: "TESTING WILL BEGIN NOW. RUN ACROSS THE ROOM AND BACK."

Five old, naked men huffed and sweated to comply. It wasn't a big room, but they were all panting heavily once they were done.

"DO IT AGAIN." I wrote. They obeyed without hesitation. Two of them seemed on the point of utter collapse as they completed the task. The other three were not much better off. How pathetic! I've gone to Pluto and back without even needing to draw a single breath through my sexy lips into my seemingly limitless lungs and without a single molecule of perspiration appearing on my perfect body. Compare that to these guys who had run thirty yards and, as a result, looked knackered and in need of a day's complete relaxation to recover!

However, I was having far too much fun to let them rest.


They were badly out of breath and far from supple. Joints creaked as they knelt. But kneel they did. Because I told them to.


This was getting funnier and funnier. They were top scientists, highly respected (by their peers, that is. I've never had any respect for a male) and here they were, naked, pretending to be dogs.


They looked like gigantic, shrivelled beetles, waving their wrinkled arms and legs about. I really can't tell you how I managed not to burst out laughing and ruin the deception. Somehow, I resisted the temptation and kept the game going for a while.





I wonder if any of them noticed at that point that their "UFO" was shaking very slightly as I fought not to burst into hysterics. Honestly, I've fought a division of tanks (perhaps I'll tell you about that in another post) and had a much, much easier victory. I guess the old men were too busy behaving like toddlers to spot the slight movements of the steel block, because I managed to get away with it.

I zapped "STOP" into the wall. The men collapsed, panting with exhaustion.



I let that message fill them with dread for a good two minutes, during which none of them dared speak. Then:


Another thirty seconds got my audience to a nice peak of terrified nervousness.


Well, you're just going to have to wait until my next post to find out.

Did I mention that I enjoy teasing people?

Monday 18 June 2007 17:57 BST (GMT+1)

At the end of my last post, I told you how I’d got the scientists to strip then run around and generally behave like a bunch of infants for the purposes of some alien “test” that I’d made up for my own amusement.

I also described how I’d used my heat-vision to burn the words "TEST RESULTS SHOW THAT..." into one of the walls of the room. Remember, I’d told the men that each male’s fate depended on what was revealed by the “tests”; they were either going to be taken to some far-off planet to be experimented upon or they were going to be “eliminated” on the spot…

No-one spoke as they waited for the mysterious block of metal to laser-out their destinies on the wall. The panting of exhausted old men faded as the tension mounted with every passing second. I waited until I thought the men would explode with anticipation before I finally put them out of their misery. With my eye-lasers, I completed the sentence:


There was a loud collective gasp. The men’s faces contorted into a series of expressions of confusion or bewilderment. They looked at each other, and then back at me (well, not me but the geometrical obelisk of steel in which I was embedded). I could tell that none of them could work out what was going on. I decided to help them out by burning another heat-vision message on the wall:


“Wha-?” That uttering from one of the men was the nearest any of them had come to speaking for some time. It sparked a small reaction from the others:


“I.. I don’t….”

Finally, one of them managed a address a proper sentence my way: “Who are you?”

I replied on the wall: “I’M A GIRL”

“A girl? I don’t believe you!” one of them shouted when he read the words. Then he turned to the man nearest to him and whispered “I think this is still part of the test!”. Of course, his whisper was perfectly audible to me, regardless of the intervening inches of solid steel.

“One thing is quite clear,” one of other scientists spoke up, pompously. “whoever or whatever you are, it is NOT a ‘girl’!”

So it was down to me to show them how wrong they were. That’s in my next post.

Tuesday 19 June 2007 17:54 BST (GMT+1)

The moment of revelation had arrived.

It was time to show those men. To show those pathetic, stupid, decrepit males. Those so-called “scientists” and so-called “experts in extraterrestrial life”. Time to show them that the great big oblong of floating metal that they’d believed was some kind of alien spaceship was actually nothing more than a remoulded lump of everyday building steel. Albeit with a rather special girl inside.

With my fabulous powers, there were so many different ways I could have come out of my hiding place deep within the metal. I’ve mentioned this before, but the hardest part of being a goddess is not accomplishing the seemingly impossible, but rather selecting just one of the endless methods normally available for accomplishing it.

For example, I could have used my heat-vision. The lasers I produce in my eyeballs are powerful enough to generate temperatures that could have turned the entire massive block of metal to liquid in seconds. As the steel melted, it would have flowed from my beautiful body, the thousands upon thousands of degrees heat not even causing my perfect skin to redden temporarily. It would have been spectacular, but as the extreme warmth dissipated through the room, it would have cooked my audience in seconds. Not to mention the damage red-hot molten metal can do to ordinary people’s fragile flesh…

Another idea would have been for me to shatter the solid obelisk from within. My arms and legs were encased in solid metal, of course. Leaving aside the suffocation issue (that would have killed anyone else in moments), several feet of tight steel would stop anything moving. Well, anything but me. The slightest, easiest, most casual of movements of my limbs would have ripped the chunk of metal apart. A simple stretching of my lovely long, shapely arms would have made that massive block explode, chunks of it flying out, faster than the speed of sound, in all directions. That would have been great to see. But the resulting shrapnel would have probably destroyed the entire building I was in, not to mention the flimsy scientists in the room.

I suppose I could have let the men themselves get me out of there. With the very latest power tools, lasers, welders and diamond cutting tools, a team of twelve fit males, working at their laughably small maximum capacity could probably achieve in a day what I could achieve with a sweep of my bare arm in two tenths of a second. It would have been very boring, but much safer for everyone else. Need I mention that I have nothing to fear from any power-tools? Experience has taught me that the average top-specification diamond drill, pressed full-on against one of my glorious big pink nipples, lasts about one second before it is worn away completely…

Anyway, like I said, there were plenty of options available to me. Find out which one I picked in my next post.

Wednesday 20 June 2007 17:17 BST (GMT+1)

When I was deciding just how I was going to get out of the steel block to reveal myself in all my unfathomable glory, I found myself eliminating most of the options on the grounds that they would be instantly fatal to the men in the room.

Obviously, that would not do. I certainly didn’t want to kill them all immediately. No, not at all. I’m not a monster!

I wanted some time to observe their reactions first.

In the end, I narrowed down the choice to the two most appealing possibilities.

Option one was the more complex: By slightly parting my luscious lips, I could compress the steel around my mouth. Yes, even my sexy, irresistible red lips contain sufficient power to deform solid metal with ease. It would be effortless to make enough room for me to stick out my apparently soft pink tongue. I say “apparently”, because I have no doubts that my tongue would be more than strong enough to punch a hole in the metal in front of my face. Then, by moving it around as though french-kissing the steel, I could vastly enlarge that cavity.

Once I’d created that hollow in front of my mouth, I could fill it with ultra-cold superbreath. The metal all around my head would become brittle until I could shatter it into a million tiny pieces with just the merest flick with the tip of my tongue. With my head then freed, I could repeat the freezing/shattering trick by blowing over the rest of the block.

Obviously, the ambient temperature in the room would fall significantly as I performed the operation, but given the size of the room, I reckoned it wouldn’t get any cooler than about forty below zero where the men were. Besides. if I noticed any (or all) of them getting dangerously cold, I could always warm them with my heat-vision…

I think next time I decide to mould a solid obelisk of steel around myself, I’ll use that method to get out. On this occasion, however, I went with option two.

Option two will be described, in full, in my next post.

Monday 25 June 2007 23:16 BST (GMT+1)

I know, I know. You want to know how I got out of that block of steel without killing everyone in the room.

It won't come as any great surprise for regular readers when I say, with all honesty, that it was easy...

You will recall how I was embedded in that metal slab, on the opposite side of the room from the exhausted, naked scientists, and how I had been communicating with them from inside the steel by using my heat-vision to burn written messages onto the walls. I'd told them that the whole "UFO"-conducting-"tests"-on-them thing was a hoax, perpetrated by a girl, but the men either didn't understand or believe that. Before I finally emerged, I zapped one last instruction with my eye-lasers: "Watch this!"

They didn't really have much choice. The massive steel obelisk containing me was completely blocking the only exit. Although it must have weighed many tons, I was making the whole block float a few inches from the floor merely by applying a tiny portion of my powers of flight. By relaxing those powers, I was able to carefully lower the "UFO" to the carpet, so that its mass was resting on the ground. I heard the floor beneath creaking as it struggled to hold the massive load.

When I'd set myself in the block, I had lain utterly still in a bath of molten steel. That meant that the metal had solidified all around my body, not leaving any space around my shapely limbs, my gorgeous face or my perfect torso. Theoretically, I had no room whatsoever to manoeuvre in there. But theories are based on rules, and rules do not apply to me. I am a goddess of beauty and power. If I desire room to manoeuvre, it is mine. Steel, no matter how solid or thick, simply cannot hold me.

I began by slowly arching my back. The metal gave out a groan, almost human in tone, as that effortless, minor movement caused it to be subjected to forces beyond anything most mere men, even top cosmologists, can comprehend.

My shoulders pressed back against the hard steel. My silky, warm, feminine flesh pushed against three feet of metal. The metal screamed as if in shock, crying out against the pressures being exerted on it. If the steel had possessed a voice, it would have been shouting "No! No! This is not possible! This can't be happening to me! Nothing can exert such force on such a small area!"

But, of course, it was happening. My lithe, round shoulders were defeating the steel, overpowering it to such an extent that it was forced to concede. Slowly, but inexorably, the metal began to yield. To give way to my superiority. To retreat from my unopposable power. I could feel the thick steel behind me beginning to stretch and deform as I casually lent back into it.

At the same time as my shoulders were pushing backwards into the helpless metal, the arching of my back was forcing my magnificent breasts forwards. Now the steel found itself fighting, and losing, on two fronts. My big, round bosoms pressed into the solidity, and the solidity groaned even more loudly than before as it found itself unable to do anything but withdraw, pushed back by the glorious feminine mounds that were conquering it.

The pressures I exerted on that metal were so great, it began to melt around the areas of maximum contact. I could feel liquid steel flowing over the perfect curves of each of my breasts and around my shoulders, tricking down my back and through my flawless cleavage. Neither the heat, nor the pressure, caused my invulnerable body any discomfort. In fact, I was enjoying myself.

Switching my attention to my long, beautiful legs, I started to move my foot. Again, the metal moaned, begging me to stop. Again, I ignored its pleas. Again, my body imposed its will. My delicate-looking foot began to force its way through the supposedly solid block, followed by my ankle and then the rest of my leg. Molten steel flowed down my limb as it carved a channel through the metal.

Then, I moved my other leg, pushing it through a few feet of steel as if I was going for a stroll. This brought the rest of my body forward. My breasts continued their unstoppable passage of destruction and annihilation through the metal. Beneath them, my flat, perfect belly followed close behind, obliterating an even larger area of steel. My lovely face found a similar lack of credible resistance as it carved into the block as well, my cute nose proving a million times more effective than any diamond-tipped drill. Even my seemingly soft lips passed through the solid metal with utter ease.

By this time, my eyes were beginning to fill with liquid steel. It didn't hurt at all, of course. It didn't even significantly affect my ability to see, thanks to my X-ray vision. Nonetheless, I blinked my eyes to clear away the red-hot liquid and was rewarded with the high-pitched sound of my pretty eyelashes scoring a series of tiny grooves in the metal.

By now, the outer surface of the big shiny obelisk was beginning to deform. All that steel had to go somewhere. I was pushing it aside with my body, making my way through the block, and the metal was simply moving anywhere it could to get out of my way. It tried (oh, how it tried!) to push back against me, but it found that it couldn't even so much as put the tiniest dent in my gloriously round breasts or dimple my luscious thick lips. Instead the slab began to change shape to accommodate the increasing amounts of displaced steel within.

I could see the shocked and terrified expressions on my exclusively male audience. The noise of the protesting metal was probably loud enough to hurt their fragile ears, but the sight of the smooth surface of their "UFO" beginning to bulge must've been even more impressive.

I kept on "walking", pushing and pressing my way through. My chest continued to lead the assault, bending, compressing and deforming everything in its path. The rest of me was close behind, making similarly light work of the supposedly "heavy" steel. I could see that there was only about eight inches of steel remaining now. My large nipples drilled into the metal in front of me, proving, once again, that they are harder and tougher than any substance in the universe when I want them to be...

Evidently, the shapes appearing in the surface of the block were beginning to take on a degree of familiarity for the men. Perhaps, in an act of total surrender to the magnificence of my body, the steel had decided to take on the form of that which was defeating it. Or perhaps, in its dying moments, the block was worshipping my power by remoulding itself in my image.

Whatever the actual reason, the metal was starting to show the perfect contours of the parts of my body nearest the scientists. Even the men could see it. One of them actually exclaimed "Oh my god! It is a girl!"

I smiled at that shocked statement, the up-turning of the corners of my mouth displacing a little more steel. And still, I pressed myself forward.

Now the front of the obelisk was stretching dramatically. The metal's scream rose in pitch as it began to thin out, desperately and vainly trying to retain its integrity as it was pulled apart by the incalculable forces I was exerting on it. I could feel the steel distending, becoming weaker by the moment.

Soon, it was too weak to hold itself together. My nipples burst through the now paper-thin metal simultaneously, drawing gasps from the scientists. The surface of the block began to tear, stretching into strands that snapped like molten cheese on a slice of pizza. In an instant, my breasts were clear. One of the men fainted. I don't know if it was merely the sight of my unrivalled chest that made him lose consciousness or the fact that that unrivalled chest had just ploughed through solid steel.

My face was next, then my feet, carving through the pitiful remains of the metal. My groin followed and then my stomach. By the time my shoulders reached the point where the block had previously ended, there was no more metal left for them to brush aside.

I took the final step. As I did so, yet another member of my dwindling audience collapsed to the floor, the full extent of what he had just witnessed (a girl breaking out of a block of solid metal) and what he was continuing to witness (the girl now out of the block in all her breathtaking, naked glory) far too much for his feeble male brain to process.

The last few drops of molten steel dripped from my arms and the undersides of my breasts as I stood in front of the ruined obelisk, a broad grin fixed on my face as I looked at the remaining conscious (but frozen in shock) men.

"Hello boys!" I greeted them, cheerfully.

What happened after that can wait for my next post.

Thursday 28 June 2007 20:14 BST (GMT+1)

So I had forced my way out of that block of steel in spectacular (although effortless) fashion.

Now I was standing, in all my superhumanly perfect naked glory, in front of the three remaining conscious “UFO-experts”. As well as the stunned looks on their faces (were they stunned by what I had done to the steel with my fabulous body or just by my fabulous body itself?) I could hear their increased heartbeats and see the fresh sweat beading on their foreheads.

I’d ordered them all to strip when I was still hidden inside the block and I could sense their collective embarrassment as they started to respond to the remarkable sight of my splendid curves. Two of them were attempting to hide their growing erections with their hands. The third was shooting uncomfortable glances down at his unimpressive, rapidly hardening organ. I smiled, both at their discomfort and at the inescapable power of my sexuality.

Unexpectedly, one of them spoke out loud. “Is… is… is this some kind of projected hallucination?” he wondered. I don’t know if he was posing the question to me or his two colleagues, but, as I was uniquely qualified to answer, I decided I would.

At superspeed, I closed the ten-yard gap to him, so that, from his perspective, I would have appeared to have disappeared only to rematerialise in the same instant standing right in front of him, so close in fact that my large, pink nipples were almost touching his chest. He almost staggered back in shock, his eyes huge as his vision was suddenly filled by my gorgeous face. When he glanced quickly down, he would have seen nothing but the supremely erotic rounded shelf of my breasts and the mind-blowingly sexy cleavage between them.

I gave him no chance to react as I placed my palms gently on his cheeks and pulled his lips to mine. Carefully, so as not to crush his skull between my hands, or his mouth with my thick, red lips, I kissed him, letting the intimate contact last for several seconds before breaking it off. With my mouth still just a fraction of an inch from his, I asked, breathily, “Did that feel like a hallucination to you?”

He didn’t answer me. Instead, he just passed out, collapsing in a heap at my feet. I guess the experience of being kissed by a goddess was just too much for his feeble ageing male brain. I laughed at him, and turned to the two others.

“Either of you think I’m not real?” I enquired. The only reply was a frantic shaking of heads.

“Good,” I commented, with a big, satisfied grin. Then, after a pause I added, “So, who wants to do a little deal?”

I’ll explain what my proposition was in my next post.