"A Little Bit of Fun". Fiction featuring cruel and evil supergirls by Conceptfan.

A Little Bit of Fun

A couple of bored teenaged girls from another dimension illegally "borrow" a transporter band to come to Earth for kicks. Once there, they discover that they have seemingly unlimited powers, much to the cost of any Earthling who is unfortunate enough to cross their paths.



"Do you know what would be fun?"

"No. Tell me."

"Stealing a transporter band and going to Earth."

"You think it would be fun to break the law?"

"Nah, I think it would be fun to go to Earth. I don't care how we get there."

"Well, you go on your own then. I'm not getting involved. They'll lock you up for life if they find out you've been to a forbidden planet. Especially the most forbidden planet in the galaxy."

"They'll never know. We'll be back before anyone realises we're gone."

"Enough of the "we". You're on your own on this one. I don't want anything to do with Earth."

"Oh, come on. You never want to do anything interesting. No-one will ever know. It'll be great."

"I don't care. I'm not interested."

"Yes you are. C'mon, you know what they say will happen to us - to our bodies - in Earth's atmosphere."

"Yeah, I know what would happen. And that's why it's forbidden to go there."

"Well, think about it. It would be kind of like being a goddess. We'd be able to do whatever we wanted while we were there. Think of all those Earthers - all those things you could do..."

"Yeah, yeah. It'd be great. But we just can't do it, OK. I mean, we'd never be able to get away with it. Even if we got to Earth, had our laugh and came back, someone would find out and that would be that. No more entertainment for us."

"Listen, girl. I've got the whole thing worked out. I know where we can get a transporter band. We'll be back before they know we're gone."

"I don't know, I mean..."

"Think of what it'll be like when we're on Earth."

"Yeah, I know, but..."

"-But nothing. You want to be bored here tonight or you want to be a goddess on Earth with me?"

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"'Course I'm sure. Relax. It's not like we'd be committing one of the great crimes of history. It's just a little bit of fun."



"Is that it?"

"Haven't you ever seen a transporter band before?"

"Not until now. How's it work?"

"You just slip it on your wrist like a bracelet. I've already programmed it with the correct co-ordinates for Earth, so all I have to do is press this little button, and our adventure can start."

"But there's two of us and only one band."

"It'll transport both of us as long as we hold hands."

"And that's all there is to it?"


"And you're sure no-one knows that you've got it?"

"I'll put it back before they know it's missing."

"And they can't detect that we're using it or where we're going with it or anything?"

"I told you. I've got it all worked out. Now grab my hand and we're off."

"I don't know about this, Tara. I mean, what if we get caught?"

"We won't. I promise. C'mon, there's too much to loose. Think about it, Lyda."

"We're going to be back quick aren't we? We won't stay so long that someone notices we're gone, will we?"

"We'll be back here before you know it. We'll just stay long enough to get our kicks and then straight back. I swear."

"OK, OK. Let's do it."


Conceptfan, Nov. 2001.

Chapter 1


Rick was exhausted. It had just been one of those nights. Two fights, a fat old drunk with his pants round his ankles trying to dance on the bar, and the usual collection of sad cases who refused to go home at closing time. It had taken him half-an-hour to clear everyone out and forty minutes to clean up the empty glasses and spillages. At times like this, he wondered why he had ever thought running his own bar would be fun. He had imagined himself serving drinks to celebrities, listening to fascinating stories, meeting beautiful women. Instead, he was clearing up after a bunch of drunken loosers. With a sigh, he bent down to pick up the contents of a spilled ashtray from the tatty carpet.

At first he thought he was hearing things. But he was soon sure that it was for real. A suppressed, girlish giggle, coming from somewhere behind him. He stood up and turned around. Rick was stunned. Two of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen in his life were standing in the middle of his bar. One was tall with light brown hair, the other a slightly shorter brunette. They were both wearing broad smiles on their angelic faces. He let his eyes scan down the girls' full height. He couldn't decide which one was more attractive.

Even though it was a bitterly cold night outside, they seemed to be dressed for the beach - each superbly modelling a skimpy two piece bikini. They both had fabulous figures; magnificent full breasts, tiny waists, shapely hips, long, immaculate legs. They might have stepped straight out of his most private fantasies. Suddenly, Rick remembered that the street door had been locked for over half an hour. There was no way these two dolls could have been in his bar unnoticed for that long unless they had snuck in and hidden in the women's lavatory or something. It was as if they had suddenly materialised out of thin air. He wondered if he should confront them or just try some corny old line on them.

Before Rick had made his mind up, the taller girl turned to her colleague and said something in a language he didn't recognise. Whatever it was, it was clearly amusing because both girls began to giggle again. Rick wondered if he was looking at two European supermodels on a photoshoot who had somehow stumbled into his bar. They were certainly more than attractive enough. "Can I help you ladies?" he asked, trying to sound as cool as possible. That caused the beautiful pair to burst into even more giggles. He found himself staring at the two glorious bouncing chests, daring to believe that this might be his lucky night after all.

Now it was the dark haired, shorter one who spoke to her companion in the strange language. Her words prompted the brown-haired beauty to smile and then address Rick. He was surprised to hear that her English was flawless with no trace of a foreign accent. "Is this Earth?" she asked.

"What the fuck?..." thought Rick.



Tara was hardly able to contain her excitement. It was all going so smoothly. The transporter band appeared to have worked perfectly. She and Lyda had materialised inside a dark room to be greeted by the sight of a man's backside as its owner bent over to pick something off the floor. When the man stood to face them, she watched his eyes tracing the length of their bodies. Lyda had whispered to her "I can see his prick through his clothes!" and Tara found that she too could clearly view the stranger's rapidly expanding flesh under the fabrics he was wearing. So, it looked like the incredible stories she had heard were true; she and Lyda now had the ability to see through solid objects.

More wonders were revealed when she found herself speaking a foreign tongue as if it were her own. She wanted to ask the man if they truly were on Earth and the words just seemed to form themselves in her throat. This was amazing. But what of the other remarkable changes she had heard about - the incredible powers her people were supposed to possess while on Earth? Did they now have such fantastic abilities? Tara had to admit she certainly felt wonderful - lighter and fresher than she had ever felt before.

Lyda also felt great. She was so full of energy. It was terrific to be able to see a man's skin even when he was wearing clothes and astounding to hear Tara speak the alien language and understand every word of it. She knew the stories about members of her race undergoing unbelievable transformations on Earth and she was beginning to believe them. She was glad she had allowed herself to be talked into accompanying her best friend. She was going to have a lot of fun here on Earth - provided of course, that this actually was Earth. After all, the man still hadn't answered Tara's question. She decided to try out the strange, new, language for herself. "My friend and I want to know what planet this is." she said.



Rick was flabbergasted. It wasn't everyday two gorgeous girls in tiny, perfectly filled bikinis appeared from nowhere and asked what planet they were on. He decided it had to be some kind of joke, but he couldn't think of anyone he knew who would arrange such a complicated gag. So, he played along. "Welcome to Earth, ladies." he said. "I'm Rick. Pleased to meet you. Do you want me to take you to my leader?" Neither girl replied to his question, but the taller of the two did say something to the other in their mysterious language, so he added, "I'm sorry, I don't speak alien." They continued to ignore him. Not knowing what he should say next, he tried "Hello? Beautiful space girls? Can you hear me?".



So, this was Earth. Tara was delighted. She'd programmed the transporter band perfectly. Only one question remained now: just how much of the legend was true? Would she and Lyda really be goddesses on this planet? There was only one way to find out. She took a few steps forward, approaching a large, well-lit square device that was propped against one wall. As she approached the object, she saw its casing appear to melt away. She realised she was looking through it as she had done with the man's - "Rick's" - clothes. Inside, she saw dozens of black plastic discs. They looked heavy. Back home, she knew she would be utterly unable to move such a device. "If the stories of Earth are accurate", thought Tara, "I should be able to lift this."

Tara walked up to the big square object and placed a hand on either side of it. She prepared herself for a strain as she tried to raise it off the ground. Lyda looked on fascinated. To Tara's shock, the big object felt almost weightless. She threw it straight up into the air, catching it easily. "This is great!" she told her friend. "Here, you try." and she tossed the device towards the dark haired girl. It turned out that the thing was attached to the wall by a thin, black cable; before it reached Lyda, the cable was stretched beyond its limit, producing a big, bright flash as it snapped in two. Lyda caught the box without making any significant effort.

Nodding her head in the direction of the spark Lyda commented, "It's electric. They're still using electricity here!" then she threw the big contraption up in the air and caught it as her friend had done, adding "You're right. It does feel incredibly light". She noticed that the man was now staring at her with his jaw hanging open. Turning to her companion she said in their language "I think the stories are true. He seems amazed that I'm lifting this so easily." Tara looked at the broken cable. She took a couple of steps towards it and bent down to pick up the end that was still attached to the wall. As her hand touched the exposed metal filaments inside the cable, a series of sparks appeared.

Tara held the cable, broken bits of metal wire touching her palm, a look of curiosity on her gorgeous face as she studied the streaks of blue light emanating from it. She could feel the current running through her hand, up her arm and down her body. It felt terrific. The shock in the Earthman's eyes seemed to increase as he stared at her. Tara smiled and turned to Lyda. "Judging by his reaction, " she theorised, "I think he expects this electricity to be hurting me." Lyda placed the big device she was holding down on the ground and strode over to her friend.

"Here, let me have a go", she said, reaching out for the cable. The sparks flew once more as Lyda grabbed the live wire. "It's lovely," she announced. "This place is amazing!"

"Seems like it," agreed Tara, "but maybe that box is light and maybe the electricity here is different from back home. I think we have to do some more experimenting. We need to find something that's the same here as it is back home. Something like...." she looked around. Nothing seemed familiar. Nothing except... They both realised it at the same time.

"Him!" they said triumphantly in unison.



Rick was frozen to the spot. If this was all some kind of big joke, then someone had gone to a lot of effort to make it seem very real indeed. It looked as if the two girls had played catch with his jukebox, tossing it around as if it were a beachball. He remembered when the music machine was first installed. Two big men had brought it in on a trolley. No-one had moved it even an inch since then, and yet these babes had thrown it into the air and caught it as if it were practically weightless. And the cable! They'd snapped it in two and taken turns to hold the exposed live wire. Rick had seen a man killed by mains electricity, but these two just chatted amongst themselves while grabbing the cable as if the voltage merely tickled them.

Something weird was going on. He wasn't sure if it really was a joke after all. He looked at one girl and then the other. They were definitely beautiful. Stunning in fact. Neither of them appeared to have any more muscle than the average underwear model, so how had they managed to lift the jukebox? He stood and stared in utter confusion as the two strange young women discussed something, seeming to reach the same conclusion. Side by side, they started to walk towards him. "Umm.. great gag, ladies." he said nervously, "How's it done? Mirrors? Secret wires? Err.. trapdoors?" The girls ignored him, continuing their approach.

Rick found his attention torn between the incredible, subtle bounce of each of the two fabulous busts. It was as if the girls' bikinis contained some sort of fantastic, gravity defying contraption. He'd never seen such large round breasts riding so high and proud on a young woman's chest. He stared at the two flawless cleavages, noticing that there wasn't a single blemish anywhere to be seen on either girl's body, just smooth, perfect skin. They were incredible. They were also very close now, only a few steps away. Suddenly, he became very nervous. What if it had all been for real - no joke - and they had really thrown the heavy jukebox into the air? What did they want from him?

The two girls continued to walk towards him. Warily, he took a step backwards, trying to maintain the distance between them. They strode on, breasts bobbing so very erotically as they got ever nearer, so Rick took another step back and then another and another until he felt the base of his back pressing against the top of the bar and there was nowhere else to go except to the side.



Lyda smiled as she saw the Earthman backing away from her and Tara until he could go no further. She turned to her friend, and in their language, said sarcastically, "I think the big man is afraid of the two little girls!" Tara laughed at this as they advanced together towards him. Realising he was about to be trapped, the man tried to make a sudden break to the side. Lyda flashed out her hand, grabbing hold of his arm. Both girls clearly heard the crunch of bone just before the man screamed. "I've broken his bones!" said Lyda, delightedly, "Without even trying!"

Tara looked at the Earther, her face betraying an inner sense of amusement. "Let me try," she said, reaching across her friend to wrap her fingers around the man's other arm. She gently squeezed her hand and was rewarded with the sound of more crunching bone and screaming. "Wow!" she said. "Let go a moment. I want to see something." Lyda released his arm, whilst Tara maintained her grip. The taller girl bent her arm. To her utter joy, the big man's heavy-looking frame came easily off the ground. She held his entire weight in her slender hand, listening to his whimpers of pain as he dangled by his busted arm. "This place is amazing!" she said, letting go of the man. She watched as he fell to the ground, his legs giving way beneath him as he landed in a heap at the two girl's feet.

Lyda bent down, and reached out for the wounded man, eager to discover for herself what it felt like to hold a much larger man off the ground. She took a one-handed grip on his clothes just under his chin and tugged. She couldn't believe how easy it was to pull him up to his feet and then lift him off them. She stretched her arm upwards until his legs were dangling well off the floor and his head was almost touching the ceiling. Unable to use his arms, the man started trying to kick her. She saw his feet in their chunky covers crash against her thighs again and again but she felt almost nothing. "Put me down! Please!" he begged through his tears of pain.

Lyda found it incredible that she could understand his language. Almost as incredible as the fact that his blows were doing little more than tickling her. She spoke directly to him. "You want me to put you down?" she teased. "Alright then." Still holding him one-handedly well above the ground, she bent her arm slightly, bringing him a little closer to her face before pushing him away as she released him with a gesture similar to someone throwing a small projectile at a target.

She expected her gentle shove to send him backwards a few paces before he fell to the floor. Instead, she was stunned by the sight of the big man flying across the room. He was still rising as his back crashed against the far wall. His body slid downwards to the floor, leaving a large vertical red stain behind it, like the upper part of an exclamation mark. The bleeding crumpled heap on the ground beneath provided the point at the bottom of the punctuation.



Lyda had never killed anyone before. The ease with which she had taken the life of this "Rick" shocked her. She had only intended to humiliate him, not murder him. It had been fun shattering his bones with just a gentle squeeze from her slender fingers, but killing him? And yet, she couldn't control the growing sensation of power within her. She'd just ended the life of a far larger man with an effortless movement of one hand. It was a fascinating feeling. It was a wonderful feeling.

Tara looked at the busted corpse of the one who had called himself "Rick" and then at her friend. She found the whole scene incredible. The easy way Lyda had killed the big man thrilled her. She felt a tingle of excitement shoot through her body. It felt like the first time she had been touched by a boy. The knowledge that she too possessed the amazing power that her companion had just demonstrated aroused her even further. Everything that she had heard about the planet Earth seemed to be true. Seeing Lyda looking nervously in her direction, she exclaimed "That was fantastic!"

"But.. I killed him.." said Lyda unsure.

"With just a flick of your hand!" enthused Tara. "Didn't that feel great?"

"Um.. I guess so - it was great when he was kicking me for all he was worth and I could hardly even feel it... but I didn't mean to kill him."

"I know. It's not your fault that you've - we've - got fantastic abilities now. And it's not like back home - we're on Earth now. We can do anything we want here and we're only hurting Earthers. There's loads of them anyway."

"I suppose so. It was fantastic to see him flying across the room. It made me feel really... powerful."

"Me too! I told you we'd be goddesses here."

"Yeah, you were right about that. I'm glad I came. But you also said that we'd be back home before anyone realised we were gone. You'd better get us back before it's too late."

"Oh come on, Lyda. We've only just got here, only just started having fun. There's probably loads more Earthers we could meet around here..."

"Tara, I'm not getting myself a life sentence for the sake of a couple of extra moments. Just get us back now, before we get caught."

"OK, OK. Killjoy. I'll get us back. Grab my hand and I'll activate the transporter."



Lieutenant Howser surveyed the remarkable scene. In twenty years of homicide investigations, he'd never seen anything like this. The blood stains showed that the barman's body had hit the wall only a few feet below the ceiling and with enormous force. His bones had been shattered by the impact, breaking through his skin in a number of places. Something had also moved the jukebox which was now in the middle of the floor. The mains cable had been snapped in half, implying that the music machine had been moved with great power.

It was as if someone had come in with some kind of industrial machine using it lift the jukebox and kill the barman by throwing him against the wall. Yet there were no marks on the carpet consistent with any large machinery. There were also no signs of a forced entry, and more bizarrely, no sign of how the killer or killers had left. In fact, the door had been locked from the inside when the police had first arrived. A passing cabbie had spotted the carnage through the street window and they'd had to smash the glass to get in. Howser scratched his head. He could envisage this particular case remaining unclosed for a very long time.


Conceptfan, Nov. 2001.

Chapter 2


"So what are we going to do tonight?"

"Well, we could hang around here and be little girls like we always do, or we could go to Earth and be goddesses again."

"No way, Tara. We got away with it once. I'm not risking it again."

"What risk? Like you said, we got away with it. I can get the transporter band again tonight just as easily. No-one will know anything about it."

"I don't know, I mean..."

"Of course you know. You know how good it felt to be on Earth, to have that incredible strength, to be able to see through things, to be able to do practically anything."

"Yeah, it felt good. But -"

"Lyda, I've been checking the legends about Earth. There's loads of stuff that our people can do there that we never knew about last time. Amazing stuff. Stuff you'd never believe..."

"Like what?

"Well, remember when that "Rick" was kicking you as hard as he could and you said you could hardly feel it?"

"Yeah, that was great!"

"You think that was great? According to what I've discovered, nothing can hurt us when we're on Earth."

"What d'you mean "nothing"? "

"Just that. You can get hit by huge rocks, or attacked by weapons and you almost don't feel it at all. I mean, you can walk through fire without getting warm! And there's more, too."


"You bet! We can move and do things thousands of times faster than normal. We can jump into the sky..."

"Wow! Sounds cool."

"Too right it's cool. And it goes on and on if you believe the legends. You know when you blow on something to cool it down?"


"Well, on Earth if you do that, you can turn water into ice! And you can knock a person off their feet with your breath..."

"I don't believe you."

"You don't, eh? Why don't you come with me tonight and find out for yourself if it's all true or not."

"I don't know, Tara. I -"

"Oh, come on! Don't you want to at least know if the stories are true?"

"Well, yeah. It's just that I -"

"OK. That's settled then. We're going tonight."

"OK, OK. We're going tonight."



There were almost as many people in Rick's Bar as there'd been on a good night while the owner had been alive. A uniformed police officer was on guard, blocking the street door, and another had been posted at the back where a steel door marked "Fire Escape" lead to a dingy, narrow alley. Two middle-aged men and a slightly younger woman, all dressed in long white coats, were scouring every square inch of every surface, looking for a tiny clue that - they hoped - would explain the mystery. In one corner, Lieutenant Howser stood, looking around the room again and again as if he expected to notice something he hadn't spotted already which would reveal everything.

Howser wasn't a drinker or a drug user. Even so, when he saw two beautiful young beach girls appearing from thin air in the middle of the bar, his first thought was that he was hallucinating. It was only when he heard one of the guys in white coats uttering an astonished "Jesus H Christ!" that he realised his eyes weren't deceiving him. Still in shock, the Lieutenant took in the startling sight of the two scantily-dressed babes, before his professionalism took over. "How the fuck did you get in here?" he asked the girls angrily. They were, after all, trespassing on the site of a police investigation.

The two young women seemed as surprised to see the police team as Howser was to see them. The girls looked at each other for a moment, before exchanging a few words in a language the Lieutenant didn't recognised. Then the shorter, dark-haired one turned to him and spoke in a sweet melodic voice, revealing two sets of white teeth as perfect as her face and her body. "We're from another planet. We're just visiting." she said, deadpan.

This annoyed Howser. He was in the middle of investigating what looked like a particularly brutal murder and these two chicks were playing games. Beautiful or not, he was not prepared to take crap from them. Nonetheless, if they had discovered some secret way into the bar, they might just be able to give him some kind of idea how the killer or killers had fled. "Look, kids," he said through clenched teeth, "a man was killed here last night. So why don't you just tell me how you got in here. Otherwise, you can come with me to the station and tell me there."

Now it was the other girl's turn to speak. "Who are you?" she asked, innocently.

"I'm the guy who's asking you how you got in here." replied the Lieutenant, angrily.


"Because I'm a Lieutenant of the Police and I believe you have some information which may be relevant to a homicide case. Now answer the question, goddamit!"

The taller girl smiled at him, seemingly unaffected by the urgent tone of his voice. "It doesn't matter how we got in here." she said, matter-of-factly.

"Jesus Christ, girl!" exclaimed Howser, exasperated. "There may well be a killer on the loose. Don't tell me what's relevant. Just tell me how you got in here!"

"Oh," said the girl with the light brown hair, "why didn't you say you were looking for the killer? She's right here." and she nodded her head in the direction of her companion.



Lyda and Tara had been surprised to find the room full of people when they materialised on Earth. It didn't take them long to figure out what the strangers were doing; Lyda had almost immediately pointed out "They're trying to find out what happened to that Rick."

"Let's tell them, then." Tara had said. And now she had told them. The only problem was the one who was obviously in charge of the group didn't seem to believe her. Like the others, he was just staring at her and Lyda.

"I've had enough of this." said the Earther. "Either you answer my questions or I get Jenkins here - " he indicated one of the other men standing near what looked like some kind of door - "to arrest you both."

"But she's just told you," said Lyda, smiling, "I'm the one you're looking for."

"Jenkins!" said the Earthman as the one called Jenkins began to walk towards them.

"Don't you believe that she killed the one called Rick?" asked Tara, innocently. "Let me show you how she did it."

The one called "Jenkins" had now reached the two girls. Standing in front of them, he began to fiddle with some sort of metal contraption on his waist. Tara wasted no time beginning her demonstration. She extended her right arm and grabbed hold of the man's clothes as Lyda had done to Rick. Before her victim could react, she raised her arm, lifting him completely off the ground, finding it hard to believe how light the big man felt. Then she bent her arm before launching the man called Jenkins towards the far wall.

Tara had underestimated her strength dramatically. The man's body dissolved in gore as it hit the wall, cracks appearing all around the point of impact as pieces of material broke off. Chunks of flesh and bone were spattered all around the room. Tara found it all simultaneously disgusting and exciting. The sight of the big man's guts splayed over the wall sickened her briefly, but the thought that she had caused so much devastation so casually gave her a tremendous thrill of power. She turned to the one who had been asking so many questions. "Now do you believe me?" she inquired, sweetly.



Howser could not comprehend what he had just witnessed. He could have sworn he'd seen the slim girl one-handedly lift Jenkins off the ground and then throw him against a wall so violently that his body has exploded on impact. He knew it couldn't possibly be true - it was all some kind of trick. And yet, it made perfect sense that this was, as the girl had said, how the bartender had been killed. And the girls' mysterious arrival made him wonder about the lack of evidence of any forced entry or exit by the perpetrator or perpetrators. But it was all too... impossible. He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a service revolver clicking. The other officer had drawn his weapon and was pointing it at the two mysterious girls.

"Put your hands in the air!" barked the officer.

"You can't talk to a goddess like that!" responded the dark-haired beauty, clearly impressed by what her colleague had just done.

"Put your hands in the air!" the officer repeated.

"She just told you not to talk to us like that." answered the other girl, sternly.

Howser finally snapped into action, whipping out his own revolver and waving it from the centre of one girl's bikini-clad chest to the other's. Even in his confused and shocked state, he had to admit, they were magnificent chests. "Enough of this crap." he stated. "I'm gonna count to three and if you haven't got your hands in the air by the time I say three I'm gonna start shooting. One..."



Tara thought for a moment about activating her transporter band and taking herself and Lyda out of there. The tone of the Earthling's ultimatum sounded severe. But then she remembered the stories of invulnerability that she had related to her friend earlier. This was the perfect opportunity to discover once and for all if those stories were based in fact. And, she thought, it would be just too wonderful if they were. She glanced at Lyda. Her face betrayed not a hint of anxiety. So, they would stay. "Ooh! Are those weapons?" she taunted.

"Two..." said the Earthling. The three characters in white coats suddenly sprang up as one and darted behind the long high table at one end of the room. Their fear reminded her of her fantastic new powers, and filled her with confidence.

"Three!" Neither girl moved. Then Tara heard two simultaneous bangs, and realised that the weapons had been fired. She saw Lyda become a momentary blur in front of her. Then her friend was by her side once more, holding two shiny metal objects in her hand.

"It's true!" Lyda said in their language, delighted with herself.

"What?" asked Tara.

"We can move at incredible speeds here. Look I caught these projectiles mid-flight! And they didn't even hurt me!"

"Let me try." said Tara. And she then became a blur to Lyda, resolidifying next to the one who had ordered them to put up their hands. "Wow!" enthused Tara, before becoming a blur and reappearing next to her friend once more. "It's amazing!"



Officer Murphy blinked. He was sure he and the Lieutenant had each fired a shot at the two gorgeous girls. He thought he had seen the dark-haired one become a kind of smear for an instant. Then he had seen her holding what looked like two bullets. After that, he thought the brown-haired one had appeared next to him for a second before reappearing by her comrade's side once again. This was all too weird. Frightened by his lack of understanding of the situation, he fired off three more shots directly at the taller young woman's chest, expecting her to fall to the ground instantly.

She did not fall. She didn't move so much as a hairbreadth. She didn't even appear to flinch. Murphy heard the sound of his bullets ricocheting off the girl's stunning body, as if he had fired at a thick sheet of steel. He saw her generous left breast bouncing ever so slightly as it took a direct hit. He heard the incredible girl excitedly saying something to her friend and he saw the three spent and bent slugs scattered on the barroom floor. Both girls had now turned their faces to him. Two wonderfully bright, natural smiles shone his way. He felt terrified.



"These little bits of metal feel wonderful!" was what Tara informed Lyda as one of them struck her breast, sending a tingle across her whole torso. She looked at the Earthling whose weapons had caused the delicious sensation, as did Lyda. Neither girl was able to suppress a grin - the feeling of power from the knowledge that they were immune to the weapon was too just to great.

"Hey!" said Lyda to the now visibly shaking man with the firearm, "Have you got some of those for me too?"

"I have, bitch". It was the other one that spoke now, the one who had been asking all the questions earlier. The girls turned to look at him, still smiling. He raised his weapon and released a series of shots, all aimed at Lyda's head.

Lyda watched the little pellets as they seemed to float towards her. She thought about catching them as she had done earlier, but changed her mind when she remembered Tara's comment on the way the things felt when they hit her. Instead, she held herself perfectly still, letting the tiny missiles strike her one after the other. She did not let her grin flicker for even an instant as the little lumps of metal deformed against her soft, immaculate skin before rebounding harmlessly away. One struck her forehead, another her cheekbone. The next hit her on the bridge of the nose and the final one impacted on her top lip. Lyda had to admit. They felt nice. "You're right!" she said, "They do feel good."

"Then," said Tara, her eyes twinkling with anticipation, "why don't we do something to thank these guys?"

"Oh, Tara! That's a lovely idea. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, seeing as this one used his weapon against me," Tara pointed to the man standing by the door, "and this one -" she pointed to the questioner, "- used his against you, I think we should each thank them in person."

"What a sweet gesture. I'll go first."



Murphy watched in transfixed amazement as the two girls discussed something amongst themselves. A shudder ran down his spine as the taller one pointed first at him and then at his Lieutenant as she talked. He didn't like this situation at all. He started liking it even less when the girls seemed to come to a decision and the shorter, dark-haired one turned towards him and took a few steps in his direction, smiling sweetly as strode, her chest moving autonomously from her body, bobbing hypnotically with every pace. He stared at her gorgeous jiggling mounds for a few moments before his fear got the better of him and he started to back away from her.

The absurdity of the situation dawned on the officer as he edged nervously backwards. Here he was, a big, fit man - a trained policeman in full uniform, his pistol in his hand, and he was cowardly backing away from a young, slim girl who was wearing nothing but a tiny bikini, and was completely unarmed. Yet he had seen this girl catch bullets in her hand. He'd even seen her grin as she bounced them off her face. He'd watched in disbelief as her friend had killed his colleague by lifting him off the ground and throwing him against a wall - all with just one slender arm. There was no point denying it. Murphy the big cop was very, very scared of this beautiful, slim, young woman.

The officer took a few more steps back, trying to maintain the distance between himself and the advancing girl. Suddenly, his back hit the closed door of the bar and he could retreat no further. He looked at the young woman who was now only a few strides from him. He felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead as she quickly closed the gap until she was standing just a foot away from him. Murphy couldn't help but looking down at her magnificent cleavage, displayed to full advantage by the girl's brief bikini. Despite his fear, he found himself marvelling at the roundness and apparent firmness of her ripe breasts.

"So, you like me?" taunted the dark-haired beauty, swinging her chest slightly as she spoke.

"I.. I.." Murphy stammered helplessly.

"Can't you speak?" she continued to tease, making the undulating movement of her breasts even more pronounced. "Or is that just the effect I have on you?"

"No.. Wha.. I..."

"Oh, you poor creature. You can't even talk. Let me kiss you better."



Lyda lazily placed an arm on each of the man's shoulders. Then she pressed down gently. A look of surprise came over his face, followed by one of shock as she pushed down, forcing him to bend his knees. He tried to push against her with his legs, but found her strength utterly irresistible. With both his hands, he grabbed her wrists, trying to remove her hands from him, but all his efforts proved totally ineffective. Her slender arms did not move at all, except to force him down further. She stopped pushing when his face was level with hers. Tilting her head slightly, she leant towards him, her lips puckered in preparation of meeting his.

The man turned his head away from hers. "I thought you liked me." she said in mock disappointment. She removed her left hand from his right shoulder, easily shaking off his grip from her wrist. Lyda was delighted to see that she could hold him in place with just one hand on his other shoulder as effortlessly as she had done it with two. With her free hand, she gently cupped his chin, turning his face back towards her. She could see his neck muscles bulging as he tried to fight against her, but his struggles once again proved futile. It gave Lyda a tremendous thrill to see the much bigger man utterly unable to fight against her vastly superior strength.

Lyda leaned towards the taller man and, still holding his chin, pulled his face to hers. Then she parted her lips slightly and planted them on his. He placed both his hands on her shoulders, desperate to push her away, grunting with the effort. The dark-haired young woman remained completely immobile. She opened her lips a little further, pressing them against his face, forming a seal around his mouth. With the man still struggling without effect, Lyda began to inhale slowly and deeply.

His eyes bulged wide in astonishment and his efforts to force her away from him became desperate. Lyda continued to breathe in, her mouth locked on his. The look in his eyes became panicky and the colour began draining from his face. Quickly, his struggles grew weaker. She kept on drawing air into her lungs. His eyeballs seemed to be about to pop out of his head. His complexion was now a bluish white, and his arms hung redundantly by his sides. Lyda heard a muffled squelching sound and tasted blood in her mouth. Instantly, the man's eyes became dull.

She stopped inhaling, taking her lips off of his and bringing the kiss to an end before removed her hands from her victim. His body seemed to fold up on itself as it became a heap on the floor. Lyda looked down at him and smiled. She had enjoyed the taste of his blood as much as she had enjoyed sucking the life out of his large, male body. What a feeling - to have collapsed a man's lungs just by kissing him! She turned to face Tara, who was looking on approvingly. In their language, so that the remaining Earthlings wouldn't understand her, she spoke to her friend. "So this is how it feels to be a goddess!"

"Pretty cool, huh?" said Tara.

"You bet. So, what are you going to do with -" she pointed to the one who had asked all the questions earlier - "him?"

"Hmm... I think I'm going to try something else."



Having now witnessed two of his men being killed by the two incredible girls - one of them "kissed" to death! - Lieutenant Howser was obeying his survival instinct. He'd seen them both take direct pistol hits without even frowning. He'd seem them each take a life without hesitation. He just didn't want to be anywhere near them. Slowly, he was inching away from them, trying to reach the street door unobserved. He shot a nervous glance towards the two young women and found that his plan had failed. The taller, lighter-haired one was now walking slowly towards him. His mind filled with fear as he recalled what her friend had just done to Officer Murphy.

Howser whipped a fresh clip from his jacket pocket and reloaded his pistol. "Stop right there!" he shouted at the beautiful semi-naked girl who was strolling in his direction. She smiled, looking him straight in the eyes and, continuing to walk, said simply,


The lieutenant panicked. He emptied the new clip at her, staring in disbelief as the bullets failed even to interrupt her stride. He saw her right breast wobble very slightly when it took a direct hit, and was pretty certain he spotted her blink when one shot impacted dead centre on her eyeball, but that was all his weapon managed to achieve. Desperate to avoid the sort of fate his two officers had met, he turned and ran for the door. Suddenly, he felt his neck and his body jerking backwards and he wasn't running anymore.



Tara easily caught up with the fleeing man before he'd even managed to take three full steps. Reaching out with her left arm, she grabbed the back of his neck, lifting his whole body off the ground as if he were weightless. He immediately started to panic, his arms and legs thrashing about wildly. When he did manage hit her, his blows felt like caresses to Tara. She twisted her wrist, causing the big man's dangling frame to turn so that he was now facing her, her forehead level with his chest. He looked down at her, his terrified eyes growing large as he blatantly stared at her chest. "Please! Don't hurt me!" he begged.

It was the first time in Tara's life that a big man had ever begged her for mercy. She found the novel experience incredibly arousing. Her feeling of power overwhelmed her. She smiled her broadest smile, showing off her perfect white teeth. The man didn't even notice her grin with his head lowered and his eyes, taking advantage of their excellent vantage point, glued to her cleavage. "Please!" he continued to plead, addressing his supplications - it seemed to Tara - not to her face, but to her breasts. His obvious obsession gave her an idea. Her smile took on a wicked quality.

"So, you like staring at my chest, Earthman." she observed. "Why don't you take a closer look?" And, with her hand firmly holding the back of her neck, she brought his face downwards until his feet were back on the ground and then further still until she forced him to bend his knees. He tried to kick her shins a few times, but gave up when he saw that he was causing himself far more discomfort than he was making for her. He had a few goes at punching her stomach, yelling with pain as the bones in first his right and then his left fists crumpled on impact with her impossibly firm abdominal muscles. That seemed to be the end of his physical resistance. He began to beg again, his voice distorted by tears.

"Oh, did I make you cry?" asked Tara in a cruel, mocking tone. "I'm sorry." Then, she drew his head a little closer to her body until she could feel the warmth of his breath on the exposed flesh of her breasts. "Let me hold you till you feel better." she said, sarcastically. She began pushing his head towards her cleavage. Perhaps realising what she was about to do, the man reacted by placing his battered hands on her ribs and trying to push himself away from her. The pain of his worthless strain soon became too great and his hands fell away. He began a pathetic whimper.

"Please... No... Don't... Please..."

"Oh, come on. You know you like my chest. Surely such a big man can't be afraid of a little girl's lovely soft breasts?" she taunted in reply. As she spoke, she pushed his head towards her until his chin was touching her bikini and his nose was inside her cleavage. Then she pulled him further, marvelling in the sensation as her well-rounded chest seemed to give very slightly for a moment as his face was pressed against the inside of her mounds. His pleading became muffled as his mouth was pushed up against her sternum.

"Can you hear that?" Tara said to Lyda in the Earth language so that her victim would understand. "He's trying to tell me how much he likes it in there. How sweet of him!" The man's stifled moans and pleas reached a new intensity. He tried to batter her sides with his arms, his hands clearly too painful to be used against her. Tara saw large, dark bruises already forming on his forearms and wrists as the blows she could hardly even feel began to take their toll.

"Look - he's trying to hug you now." Lyda observed cruelly, still speaking in the Earthman's language. "Why don't you hug him back?"

These last remarks only served to make the trapped man's actions more frantic; he reached his damaged arms high in an attempt to strike her head. From his stifled reaction, Tara could tell that he found her skull even harder than he had found her stomach. Out of sheer desperation, he drove his bent knee into her groin with all his remaining strength. Tara smiled as the sound of crunching kneecap momentarily filled the room, only to be replaced by a continuous muffled scream of agony. She could feel the large male's hot tears dripping onto her smooth flat belly. She revelled for a moment in the knowledge that this big man was completely at her mercy.

Tara looked down at her delicate, feminine hand on the back of the Earthling's skull which was effortlessly holding his head imprisoned between her large, firm breasts. She grinned broadly as she gently pushed his head against her chest. Evidently, there was no more give in her bosoms. His already stifled moan was silenced and his struggles ceased. She increased the pressure slightly, pressing the sides of her victim's face against her silky flesh with frightening force. Tara continued to push him against her until almost half of the man's head was buried in her cleavage, his ears now wedged impossibly firmly between her full round mounds.

It was then that Tara discovered that an Earthman's hard skull was no match for her own soft breasts. She heard the thick bone beginning to crack and instantly stopped pressing. She knew now that she could easily crush his heavy masculine head to pulp against her big feminine chest and she had no desire to prove the point by covering herself in gore. Besides, it was clear that the creature was now dead; he could be of no more interest to her anyway. Tara removed her hand from the back of the lifeless man's skull and was surprised to see that his limp body did not immediately fall to the ground. She had wedged his head so tightly between her breasts that they were now supporting his entire weight.

Tara was amazed and thrilled by the sheer power of one of the softest, most feminine parts of her anatomy. She could barely even feel the big man's bulk as it was completely supported by her chest. She grinned broadly at Lyda as she took a one-handed hold of the back of the Earther's neck and pulled his corpse out of her cleavage, finally letting it collapse to the ground. "That was incredible!" she told her friend.

"Our tits must be harder than steel here!" enthused Lyda, clearly impressed by what she had just witnessed. Tara brought her hands up to her chest and gently cupped herself, her fingers dimpling the flawless flesh through her bikini top.

"They feel as soft as ever to me." she informed her companion.

"Not to him they didn't" Lyda replied amusedly, indicating the crumpled body lying at Tara's feet.

"This place is fantastic!" declared the taller, lighter-haired girl.

"You're telling me."

"It's like it's all been created just for us to have fun."

"Yeah - I can't believe no-one else had done this before."

"Done what?"

"Stolen a transporter band and come here."

"Transporter band! Fuck, Lyda! We've gotta get back before anyone notices what we're up to!"

"Yeah, you're right. But, what about the other three Earthlings?"



Crouched behind the bar, the three members of the forensic team listened in shock to the events taking place a few yards away. They did not need to be able to see the incredible action unfolding to know that the two mysterious girls had somehow survived being shot at and that they had killed Lieutenant Howser and the two uniformed officers. Howser's muffled screams of agony had caused them all to shudder. None of them had ever experienced anything even remotely like this before.

They were scientists; they dealt with the aftermath of crime. They had received no training in facing actual criminals. None of them had any idea what action they should now take. They were all terrified. The two men and the woman looked at each other, their faces betraying their fear. They dared not even communicate by whisper, hoping that by remaining silent, their presence would pass unnoticed by the two unbelievable strangers. They stayed perfectly still, breathing as quietly as they could. The young woman began to weep noiselessly. One of her older male colleagues placed a comforting arm around her shoulder, putting the index finger of his other hand to his lips to remind her not to make any sound.



"Well, what about them?" Tara asked Lyda, pointing with her thumb to the long table at the end of the room. Both girls stared at the block of wood, their remarkable eyes giving them a perfect view through the table, revealing the crouching trio. At the same time, they listened to the sound of breathing which seemed loud and clear to their hypersensitive ears.

"There isn't time." Lyda said anxiously.

"But, we can't just leave them." protested Tara.

"OK - but no games. We gotta hurry."

"Don't worry. I got an idea. Something I read about back home..."

Tara took a deep breath, making her already impressive chest rise even further. Then she pursed her lips as if she was about to kiss an invisible lover. Leaning forward slightly towards the long table, she exhaled through her puckered mouth. She was rewarded by the sound of rushing wind. The jet of air produced by her unearthly lungs tore the huge block of wood off its moorings, forcing it backwards with tremendous force. The table smashed against the wall behind it, shattering into an uncountable number of pieces. Tara stopped blowing. Neither she nor Lyda needed to wait for the dust to clear. They could both easily spot the crushed bodies of the three Earthlings amongst the debris, their white coats covered with growing dark red stains.

"Wow." understated Lyda. The sight of her friend killing three people and destroying the huge heavy table with nothing but her breath was amazing. Tara too was impressed with her feat.

"So, it's true." she observed. "It's all true. Everything they say about our people when we're on Earth is true. This is absolutely brilliant!"

"You bet it is! Now get us back home before we get caught."

"Alright. Here goes." said Tara, pressing a little button on her wrist band.



To the first officer on the scene, it looked like a bomb had gone off in Rick's barroom. The entire wooden bar had been shattered to pieces, crushing and partly burying three members of a police forensic team in the process. There were two other corpses - the bodies of an officer and a lieutenant - littered on the ground. The officer's cause death of was a mystery at first. Later, a pathologist would declare that it was as if all the air had been violently sucked out of his body by a vacuum pump so that his lungs had collapsed and torn.

The verdict on the lieutenant, meanwhile, stated that he had probably died when his skull had been crushed between two mysterious, hard, round objects. His arms were covered in bruises. The bones in both his hands and one of his knee caps had been pulverised as if he had tried to beat up a brick wall. Back at Rick's, the horrifying remains of another officer were discovered coating one wall. Even more gore had been splattered on the floor nearby. Whatever had thrown him against the wall had done it with so much force that it took a day just to reassemble his jaw so that he could be identified.

Not one of the dozens of investigators appointed to the case had ever encountered anything similar. They were all utterly bamboozled. There wasn't even a single clue to indicate who or what had carried out the killings. Privately, amongst themselves, a few of the experts admitted that there was more than a hint of the supernatural about it all. Or, if not the supernatural, then, at the very least, the unearthly.


Conceptfan, Nov. 2001.

Chapter 3


"So, are we going to Earth again tonight?"

"I'm not sure, Lyda."

"You're not sure? You're always the one pushing me! What's happened?"

"I only just got the transporter band back in time last night. I - we were moments away from a life sentence. I was absolutely shit scared for a while."

"Fuck, Tara! I had no idea. So you went from being an invulnerable goddess to being shit scared. Quite a night, eh?"

"It's not funny, girl. I don't think I could take that again."

"You won't have to. We'll come back quicker this time."

"Now who's pushing who? I said I wasn't sure."

"Come on Tara. Remember how good it felt being attacked by those funny little weapons?"

"Sure. But-"

"And what about that guy you killed just by pushing his face between your tits? That must've been fantastic!"

"Yeah it was, but-"

"And what you did with your breath at the end - smashing that huge table on those three Earthers - don't tell me you don't want to try that again. I know I do."

"OK. You win. It's just too boring around here anyway. I hate it."

"Yeah me too."

"But we've got to get back quicker than we did last time, alright?"

"Yeah, sure. Alright."



The familiar room was completely dark when Tara and Lyda materialised, but neither girl had any difficulty seeing. To be fair, they didn't seem to have much difficulty doing anything on Earth. The large transparent panels that made up one of the four walls had been covered by some sort of brown material, about the thickness of a finger. The mess that they had left behind - the shattered table, the bodies, the blood - had all been cleared away, leaving an almost featureless square space.

"Shit!" exclaimed Lyda. "No-one and No-thing to have any fun with. This is as bad as being at home."

"We'll have to go outside of this little room, then." Tara answered.

"Which way?"

"Well, doesn't that look like a door to you?" asked Tara, indicating a long, oblong steel panel with a green sign attached to it. "I can see something like a corridor on the other side. And... and there's someone there I think."

"Oh yeah. It's a man. He's pissing!" Neither of the girls was even surprised by the ability to see through solid objects anymore. Lyda went on "So how do we operate this door then?"

"You're a goddess. Figure it out."

"Hmm..." Lyda strolled up to the panel, her face a picture of curiosity. Tentatively, she reached out with her right arm. "Perhaps," she said, "you just push it."



Jake was on his way home after a long night's drinking. He used to always stop off at Rick's at the end of a binge, but Rick's was closed now. He'd been shocked when he'd read in the paper about what had happened to Rick. Of course, the incredible events that took place in the bar a few days later were now the talk of the town. Still, Jake badly needed a piss and the alley behind Rick's was as good a place as any. He swayed too and fro as he watered the brickwork, a crumpled cigarette butt hanging from his lips. In the darkness of the alley, he didn't notice that he was splashing his shoes quite badly.

He was just shaking off the last few drops, muttering to himself in the time-honoured way of a drunk man, when he heard a tremendous crash as if something had exploded. He barely managed to look in time to see the heavy steel fire-exit door of Rick's Bar flying across the alley. The thick sheet of solid metal smashed into the far wall, knocking a hole in it with the efficiency of a wrecking ball. In the darkness, Jake couldn't see that the door had penetrated a dozen yards into the deserted travel agency opposite Rick's, shattering a couple of bulky wooden desks.

His first thought was that there'd been some sort of gas explosion, but then he remembered the incredible events that had taken place inside Rick's in the past week, and he suddenly became terrified. "Maybe," he considered, "the place is haunted." He let what was left of his cigarette fall from his mouth and began running towards the end of the alley. His impaired co-ordination caused him to stumble a few times, and each time he uttered a monosyllabic expletive. Suddenly, he became aware of sounds behind him, making his fear increase so that he could feel the pounding of his heart in his throat. He kept running and tripping, his eyes fixed on the sidewalk, struggling in the darkness to see if there were any obstacles on the ground.



"Well that's got it open!" joked Tara after her friend's one-handed shove had ripped the big metal door from its frame and sent it hurtling straight through another wall.

"I love this planet." answered Lyda, hugely aroused by her own remarkable strength.

"I see," said Tara, changing the subject as they stepped through the now wide-open doorway, "that our friend doesn't want to wait for us." Both girls watched the Earthman who had been relieving himself now staggering away from them. Neither of them had any trouble seeing his retreating form, despite the darkness.

"Perhaps we should be waiting for him." Lyda suggested.

"What d'you mean?"

"This. Follow me."



Jake had almost made it to the end of the alley. He began to relax as the sanctuary offered by the street ahead grew within reach. His head was still bowed as he scanned the ground for anything that might cause him to fall before he reached the well-lit safety up ahead. A quick glance up revealed that he was only a few yards from his goal. Almost tripping on a discarded polythene bag full of junk, he bent his head downwards once more, resuming his search for obstacles. As he did so, something that felt like an abnormally strong and unexpected gust of wind passed on either side of him, reminding him of his supernatural fears once more. He quickened his pace as much as he could, his mind, like his heart and his legs, racing. 

"Almost there now," thought Jake, "Almost th-". Suddenly, his head was full of stars. It was as if he'd run into a brick wall that had miraculously and instantly materialised across the mouth of the alley. The impact stunned him completely, knocking him to the ground. Before he could open his eyes, he felt a trickle of blood on his cheek and knew immediately that he'd cut himself just above the left eye. His head swam. "What the fuck?" he mumbled as he tried to blink his eyes open. He was still too far from the lights of the street up ahead and his vision was blurred from his concussion. As well as that, the damaged flesh above his eye was beginning to swell, restricting his sight still further. It took him quite a few seconds to focus, but when he did, it was well worth the effort.

Lying on the street a few feet from the sidewalk, his head still fogged, Jake gradually realised that he was staring at a pair of ankles. He'd expected to see a brick wall, but he was looking at ankles. Naked ankles! Naked and feminine. And a set of bare feet. Straining his neck, he began to look upwards. The ankles were connected to two magnificent, long, legs. A young woman's legs. These were crowned by smooth rounded thighs. "Christ!" he thought, "She's wearing a bikini!" In the next few seconds, as he continued to look up and up, his bloodshot eyes were treated to the most glorious view they'd ever encountered. She was more beautiful than he would have imagined was possible.

Jake was confused. Partly by the awe-inspiring sight of the stunning girl and partly because he was certain that he'd run into something incredibly hard, not a slim young woman. Surely it wasn't possible that he'd knocked himself out on a beach babe? His confusion increased when he suddenly noticed that the girl was not alone. Standing next to her was another fantastically attractive woman, taller than the other and with lighter hair but with a similarly unbelievable figure squeezed into a similarly skimpy bikini.

Jake blinked a couple of times, his wounded eye already almost completely closed by swelling. And, not surprisingly under the circumstances, another part of his body was beginning to swell as well, despite the alcohol in his bloodstream. He looked at one girl's face and then the other's and then he looked at each one's chest. Where had they come from? Weren't they cold wearing hardly any clothes at night? How had he been knocked down? Did these two have anything to do with the mysterious wind he had felt when he was running out of the alleyway? He turned to the shorter, dark-haired girl. "Are... are you ghosts?" he asked.

"No." she replied flatly, "We're goddesses."



It had been Lyda's idea to run past the Earthman and confront him face to face. He had moved so slowly that they were able to overtake him without even trying. Lyda had been overjoyed to see that he wasn't looking where he was going, his head bowed as he ran. She had positioned himself directly in his path, letting him run straight into her breasts. She had almost laughed out loud when the impact knocked him to the ground, his eye visibly wounded by her soft bosom. "These Earthers are pathetic!" she had thought to herself, as he seemed to take an age to regain consciousness and realise just what he had crashed into. And then, he had asked her and Tara if they were apparitions!

"Stand up." Lyda instructed the Earthman.

"Wha..?" he wheezed, still grogy from the blow to his head.

"Stand up."

"Who the fuck are you?" His pride had clearly made a full recovery.

"I'm a goddess and I'm telling you to stand up."

"Fuck you." He made no effort to move, remaining in the road, lying prostrate at Lyda's feet. She smiled down on him as if he'd just complimented her on her appearance. Then she slowly drew back one of her delicate bare feet before swinging it forward and planting her toes under his ribs. The force of her casual kick lifted the Earthling's body off the ground and sent it flying twenty paces away where it crashed back down in an ungainly heap. Lyda knew straight away that he was dead. She'd probably killed him instantly with the blow to his ribs. It was all too easy.

"That was hardly any fun at all." she complained to her friend. "We've got to find some more of these creatures before it's time to go back."

"OK, OK," said Tara, "But next time - take your time with them. Give yourself a chance to enjoy it."

"Yeah. Alright." There was a pause before she added, "Can you hear something?"

"Yeah," Tara sad, "sounds like a strange animal cry or something."

"It's coming this way."

"Let's check it out." And they turned and headed out of the alley towards the street that crossed it.



A mile away, a police squad car was tearing through the centre of the town, siren blaring, in response to a call about some sort of explosion at Rick's Bar. A whole bunch of officers had been killed there a week before in inexplicable circumstances and the latest explosion might not be unrelated. Officers Brown and Klugman were cruising when the call came and realised that they were almost certainly the nearest patrol vehicle to the scene. Brown clicked on the lights and the wailers as Klugman threw the wheel, making a sharp turn. Then Brown had radioed in their location as his partner expertly navigated the town's streets, driving as fast as he dared at night.

They were only a couple of blocks away now, fast approaching the boarded-up front of what used to be Rick's, when Klugman suddenly leant forward over the wheel shouting "Jesus fucking Christ!" Brown looked immediately, not knowing what to expect. He was shocked when it turned out to be two girls in bikinis standing in the middle of the road in the centre of a circular pool of light cast by an overhead lamp. Despite the onrushing police car, despite the siren and the lights they were making no attempt to move out of the way. Klugman slammed the horn - short bursts for a while and then a continuous blast, but still they remained motionless. In the end, he had to decide between hitting the breaks hard or killing the two girls.



"Look," Lyda cried as the thing first came into view, "it's not an animal - it's some sort of Earth vehicle!"

"But it's so slow!" laughed Tara. "Why's it making so much noise? And what's that strange light for?"

"Let's ask the two lovely men inside." suggested her friend, concentrating as she used her incredible visual abilities to examine the genitals of the vehicle's occupants. From distance. At night. Through their clothes and the thick metal of their transport.

"OK. After all, they're wearing the same clothes as some of the ones who were so nice to us last time." And they stepped into the path on the on-coming machine. As it approached, it began emitting a new sound, like a warning.

"I think they want us to move aside for them." Lyda speculated.

"Well, goddesses don't move aside. C'mon, this is Earth, not home. We can do whatever we want here!"

"True." So they stood and watched, half-interested, half-amused as the vehicle continued to approach at speed. When it was still quite some distance away, it began to make a new, screeching sound. Gradually, it started to slow down. But it didn't decelerate the way the girls expected it to. Being an Earth machine, it was constructed with technologies vastly more primitive than any Tara or Lyda knew. In fact, the vehicle's pace decreased so inefficiently that it was still actually moving when it reached the point where they were standing.



"Oh fuck!" Klugman exclaimed, when he realised that he wasn't going to stop the car in time. Why weren't they getting out of the way? Did they have a death wish or something? He yanked on the handbrake and turned the wheel as far as he dared hoping he had done enough to take most of the force from the impending impact - or perhaps even prevent it all together. The tyres screamed as the automobile spun through nearly 360 degrees, its momentum still propelling it towards the two scantily-clad girls who remained utterly motionless in the middle of the road. The friction heated the wheels until they were smoking and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. Still the car skidded nearer the underdressed pair. 

"Jesus Christ!" Brown mumbled as he instinctively covered his face, protecting himself from what promised to be a horrific collision. Klugman also closed his eyes, his lips forming a silent prayer. There was a tremendous jolt that would have sent both men flying through the windshield if they had not been strapped in, accompanied by the noise of crunching metal. The car came to a stop as the siren died down, the equipment clearly damaged by the crash. The silence was broken only by the tinkle of broken glass from what used to be the headlights. Something was wrong. His eyes still closed, the driver was too afraid of what he might see if he opened them. But something wasn't right.

Brown also had the same feeling. He hadn't removed his hands from his face because he was equally apprehensive about what sight would greet him if he did. But he too was perplexed. The jolt of the impact, the sound of it, the way the car had come to a stop so quickly - all those things felt more like a crash; more like they'd run into another vehicle than into two people. Slowly, Klugman opened his eyes. His partner lowered his hands from his face. They stared out of the front window. "Oh.. my.. God!" said Brown in utter shock.

"What the fuck?" was all Klugman could manage to say. The two patrolmen looked at the scene before them, unable to comprehend it. The front of the squad car had been crushed, almost out of existence. Although the windshield had cracked, they had no trouble seeing the two girls. After all, they only they were only a couple of feet away. Their waists appeared to be embedded in the pulverised metal that had been the vehicle's bodywork and engine. It looked almost as if the wreckage of the car had somehow been spread around them; as if the car had collided with them and folded itself around their slender middles. As if their beautiful, slim frames had proven tougher than a pair of metal pillars.

The upper part of their stomachs was visible above the crumpled hood. There wasn't a scratch to be seen on the large expanse of smooth, flat flesh. Nor on the generous portion of their fabulous breasts left uncovered by their over-filled bikini tops. Their faces told only of mild annoyance and vague interest, rather than shock or pain. Klugman and Brown shot scared glances at each other. Instinctively, both men reached for their revolvers, taking comfort from the reassurance of the hard metal of a weapon in their palms. Then they realised that the shorter, darker-haired girl was laughing.



Neither Tara nor Lyda could be bothered to move when they realised that the on-rushing vehicle was about to hit them. They stood still, smiling at one another when they noticed the two occupants bracing themselves as if for a terrific collision. In fact, neither girl felt much at all when the front of the machine hit them. They remained unmoving, watching as the front of the vehicle collapsed in on itself as it instantly lost the battle for supremacy with their four slender legs. After a while, the debris began pilling up, pressing against their groins and bellies. That felt quite nice; some of the material was actually quite dense and hot. In the end, it was all over too quickly. 

It seemed to take an age for either of the two men inside the ruined vehicle to look at them. When they did, the shock on their face made Lyda giggle. She burst into full laughter when she saw the men extracting weapons like those they had faced on their last visit to Earth. She leant forward, thrusting her hand deep into the mangled mass of vehicle at her waist, her elegant fingers easily penetrating the packed metal. With a handhold established, she lifted the entire machine slightly off the ground with her single arm, pulling it off her and Tara's legs and dropping it back down, hardly even aware of the physical effort involved.

Her legs freed, she strolled calmly around to the side of the vehicle, hoping to be able to examine its contents better. She saw the man seated on that side struggling with some sort of lever inside. Then she realised that he was trying to open a panel in the side of the vehicle. Seeing the outline of what she thought was the panel, she hooked a single fingertip over the top of it and pulled. She was delighted to see the entire thing come away from the vehicle, leaving the man nearest to her exposed. He lifted his weapon to her, telling her to "Stand back!". His breath was panting, his hands trembling as he gripped the weapon.



The two officers' eyes almost left their heads when the shorter girl shoved her hand into the crumpled remains of the car's hood and then lifted it up and dropped it down a few feet further back as if she and her friend had become entangled in nothing more than a big, wet cardboard box. Then she came round to Klugman's side of the car. He tried to get the door open, but the crash had jammed the mechanism. They watched in disbelief as the girl seemed to rip the whole door off its hinges with just a single finger. Klugman pointed his gun at her and told her to get back, his voice betraying his fear. The girl did nothing. 

Suddenly, the girl's hand flashed out. He hadn't time to react until she had poked her delicate, feminine index finger into the barrel of the pistol. Klugman could see the edges of the barrel were actually beginning to tear, as if her single finger was stronger than steel. He glanced up at her gorgeous face and saw that she was smiling. In panic, more than judgement, he pulled his trigger. To his utter shock, the escaping bullet wasn't hard or fast enough to dislodge the young girl's single digit. The gun exploded in his hand, effectively amputating him just below the elbow. He screamed with pain.

Brown's reaction to seeing his partner horrifically crippled was to lean across him and open fire on the girl's face and upper body. He heard the sound of ricocheting bullets pinging off the roof of the car and he saw the dark-haired girl standing disinterestedly, remaining unaffected by his direct hits from point-blank range. He did not see or hear the other, taller girl moving around to his side of the vehicle. He didn't notice her copying her friend as she used a single finger to get leverage on the frame of the door next to him. Only when she noisily prised that door off the chassis, did he realise what had happened. He whirled around to shoot at this second assailant, but his clip was already empty.



Tara was impressed by the way Lyda had blocked the first man's weapon with just her finger. She was even more impressed when she saw the damage that the weapon caused to its user. But she wanted some action too, so while the other male busied himself trying to hurt her friend, she walked around to his side of the vehicle and removed the panel next to him as Lyda had done on the other side. He tried to use his weapon on her, but it failed, and she decided to pay it no attention. She noticed a thick black strap of material that seemed to be holding him in his seat. Reaching in, she sliced it in half with her fingernail. 

The male hit her in the cheek with the side of his weapon, but she hardly felt the impact. Nonetheless, she pulled it out of his grasp and transferred it to her left hand. Then, she took a hold of him with her right hand, gripping him by his clothes around his neck, and pulled him out of the vehicle, pushing him down slightly until she had forced him to his knees. She held him there with her right hand, as she brought her left to her chest, opening her palm so that she was pressing the weapon she had taken directly against her breast. She made sure that he was watching as she squeezed the weapon against herself, the hard steel deforming around her softest flesh until it was unrecognisable. Then she tossed it away into the distance.



Brown was terrified as the beautiful girl leaned into the car and tore his safety belt with her fingernail. He tried to hit her with the butt of his gun, hit her quite hard in fact, but she didn't seem to notice. She just casually took the gun off him as he fought to hold on to it. Then she grabbed him with just one hand, pulled him out of the car as if he was made of balsa wood and pushed him onto his knees. He used all his strength to push against her, but his efforts came to nothing. She just held him there. How strong was she? He got a better idea of that as she crushed his gun to sheet metal against her gorgeous big round breast.

His terror increased as she began to lift him bodily up towards her body. He pounded on her smooth flat abdomen, but she continued to raise him upwards regardless. She stopped lifting him when his face was level with her fantastic chest. Suddenly, Brown remembered what she had just done with his revolver. His face was far, far softer than his gun had been. In panic, he started kicking her shins, smashing his fists against her face and driving his knee into her groin. But while he could feel himself bruising all over, his blows were having no effect whatsoever on her. He screamed. Where was Klugman?

His partner was semi-conscious. The dark-haired one had cut his safety belt, just as the other one had cut his. And she had pulled him out of the car with one hand as well. But because of the pain and shock from his huge wound, Klugman was not struggling against the girl. Instead, he was crying, pleading with her not to hurt him, to let go of him, to let him call an ambulance for his arm. The girl looked disappointed. "Aren't you even going to try and resist me? Aren't you supposed to be a man?" she asked him, her voice containing traces of disgust. Klugman ignored her words, continuing his begging.



Lyda was bored with the Earther's pathetic display. It was much more fun when they tried to put up a fight. She'd had enough of this one's behaviour. "My friend and I don't have any time to waste on you." she said, angrily. As she finished speaking, she lifted her arm sharply, at the same time releasing her hold on him so that his entire body flew upwards, his feet becoming level for a moment with her eyes before he began to fall back down. She didn't let him reach the ground, however. As he fell in front of her, she pursed her lips and casually blew a jet of air in his direction. Her goddess-like, powerful lungs generated a blast that caught his descending body and carried it upwards and away from her. Her little puff was enough to propel the big man so far into the distance, she had to use her enhanced vision to see him land in a tangled and bloodied heap on top of a building several streets away.

Tara, meanwhile, was also aware of the need to use her time wisely. She looked down at the Earthling she was holding fast with her hand. She smiled as she transferred her grip on him to the back of his head, lifting him quickly to his feet and then slowly pushing him down onto her left breast as he screamed and pounded against her with his two hands. Soon enough, his cries were silenced as his mouth was pressed into the thin fabric of her top. Still though, he kept up the furious bashing of his fists against her. That pounding action began to diminish soon after Lyda, some distance away, heard the first cracking, crunching sound. Tara had clearly crushed the man's nose against her womanly chest. The blood that came pouring from the male's face soon confirmed that, while the frantic flailing of his limbs showed his pain.

He stopped moving altogether when, moments later, there was a series of much louder crunching noises as the man's hard skull proved to be no match at all for Tara's soft breast; the smooth round flesh pulverising his face, turning his bone to powder. Tara changed her grip and pulled the mutilated corpse of her latest victim away from her chest. He had no face, just a concave bloody hole in its place. She turned towards her friend. "Look what I did with just my tit!" she exclaimed.

"This place is the best. Shame we can't hang around any longer tonight!" agreed Lyda, as her friend activated the transporter band on her wrist.



The Department had lost too many good men (and a woman). There was something going on around what used to be Rick's Bar and it was beginning to frighten people. In the latest incident, a squad car responding to an emergency call had crashed into an unknown object. The two patrolmen inside had later been killed. One had lost part of his arm before somehow ending up smashed beyond belief three hundred yards away, on the roof of a three-storey building a couple of blocks from his car. The other officer was found next to the car, his face caved in as if by a giant wielding a rounded sledgehammer.

Meanwhile, a door had exploded at Rick's, causing severe damage to another building across the alley. There was nothing more to do, but send for the government. This was way, way out of the Department's league.


Conceptfan, Nov. 2001.

Chapter 4


"So, are we going to pay a little visit to the Planet of the Feeble tonight?"

"As long as we get back a little earlier than last time."

"Don't tell me you nearly got caught again!"

"Damn nearly. And then I dropped the transporter when I was trying to put it back. It started making weird noises and stuff for a while but it chilled out pretty quick."

"Are you sure it's going be alright to use?"

"Yeah. As long as we're careful."

"Careful? You? How many Earthers have you killed, Miss Careful?"

"Oh come on, Earthers don't count. They fall apart in the breeze."

"Especially when that breeze comes from our lungs..."



The only fitting thing to do with Rick's Bar was to tear the whole goddam thing down and plant a tree or something where it had stood. The place was haunted or cursed. That was the verdict of most of the people in town. That's why they'd started bulldozing it. It took a while to find anyone willing to do the work and when they finally did, it was on the strict understanding that no-one would be asked to work there overnight. So, each evening as soon as the daylight started to fade, the crew would switch off their machines, put down their picks and sledgehammers and get the hell out of there.

Even during the day, people would steer clear. They'd cross the road or take a detour around the block to avoid going anywhere near the place. And as long as the police and the various experts dragged in from the state capital failed to answer any of the questions thrown up by the gruesome series of murders that had taken place there, no-one saw any reason to change that attitude. Even criminals who might otherwise have taken advantage of the deserted street stayed well away. Someone or something was crushing faces and smashing up squad cars and until there was an arrest, folks steered clear.



Tara and Lyda were surprised to find the familiar room gone when they rematerialised. Instead, they found themselves out in the open, the night sky overhead. A quick look confirmed that they had arrived in the right place. The two streets joining where the corner of the room had been were exactly as the girls had left them. It was just that, for some reason, the Earthers had removed the walls and the roof of the place. Instead, there was a big, yellow device like a tall, square vehicle with a sort of giant scoop at the front and an array of various metal implements.

The yellow thing was nearly twice as tall as Lyda. If she had laid down in front of it, she would have almost exactly matched its width. And with the big scoop included, it was even longer than it was high. "What do you think it's for?" Tara asked as she walked around it.

"Beats me." answered Lyda. "We could try and find out."

"How are we going to do that?"

"By asking an Earther. How else?"

"But, there's none around."

"So? We'll take it with us and ask the first one we find. Like this-" Lyda crouched down by the side of the device at the opposite end to the scoop and examined it. There was no convenient hand-hold so she decided to create one. Balling up her dainty, feminine hand into a fist she punched the back of the thing. Her hand pierced the thick metal as easily as if it were paper. Her knuckles compressed the solid engine within, the steel yielding to her soft skin like butter yielding to a hot knife until her slender arm was embedded up to the elbow in the machine. Then she withdrew her hand, pausing for a moment to admire her handiwork.

Curling her fingers around the entrance of the hole she'd created, Lyda stood up. As she rose, the entire end of the huge device rose off the ground with her. She smiled. She couldn't help but be impressed with the sight of the enormous metal contraption hanging from her single petite hand, especially in light of the knowledge that the weight wasn't even beginning to trouble her. "Take the other end." she called out to her friend.

Tara bent down and grabbed a hold of the big scoop at the front of the machine, the steel bending slightly under her fingers. She pulled her hand up, expecting to see the front of the machine lifting like the rear had for Lyda. For a moment, the front wheels left the ground and then there was a screeching sound and a loud clang as the metal bars holding the scoop tore in half. The wheels crashed noisily back to earth. Clearly, the thing hadn't been designed to be lifted by its scoop.

"Pathetic Earther technology" scoffed Tara as she looked down at the jagged ends of the chunk of metal in her hand. "It's as weak as everything else on this planet." With her one hand, she casually tossed the severed scoop aside, not bothering to look as it flew thirty paces down the street, landing with a shower of sparks in the middle of the road. Then, taking a leaf from Lyda's book, she strolled up to the new front of the machine and distractedly punched a deep hole in it.

Having installed her handle, she used it to hoist the front end of the device off the ground. This time, nothing broke. The entire machine - minus the scoop - was now suspended in the air, supported at either end by the slender arm and feminine fingers of a slim young girl, neither of whom showed any sign of strain as they bore the immense weight.

"So," Tara asked, "where shall we go?"



Even by Mack's standards, it was turning out to be a bad night. And Mack had had some terrible nights in his time. But this one was taking the biscuit. At ten, his wife had thrown him out of the house. "For good this time." she had told him as she dropped a suitcase half-full of his dirty laundry on his head from the first-floor window as he pleaded with her from the street, ignoring the neighbours' shouts for them to shut up.

By midnight, his girlfriend had shown him the door too. In fact, she hadn't even opened it properly in the first place. Through the tiny crack of light around the edge as she opened it with the security chain still in place, Mack could see a pair of men's slacks hanging on the back of a chair. All he knew was they definitely weren't his. He'd gone round to his buddy's place, but his buddy wasn't there. He called his sister, but she told him to call in the morning and hung up before he could even talk to her. That saw to his last few coins.

For the past three hours, he'd been roaming the streets, trying to keep warm, carrying his tiny case with its unwashed contents, looking for refuge. Down to his last three Marlboros, Mack consoled himself with the fact that he wouldn't have to go to work in the morning. The redundancy letter he'd received the previous week had relieved him of that particular burden. All he needed now was a new life and a couple of thousand bucks. And a couple of chicks to keep him warm.

"Hey you!" Mack heard the female shout and stopped in his tracks. It was the middle of the night and he was on the mother of all losing streaks. No good could come of this. Reluctantly, he lifted his head and looked towards the direction the call had come from. Then he blinked his eyes and looked again. This was bad. Very bad. He hadn't been drinking (much) and now he was hallucinating. Even his brain was beginning to betray him now.

It had to be a dream. It was impossible enough that two young women of such staggering beauty would be wandering the night streets. It was even more impossible that they should be dressed in tiny two-piece beach-style outfits that revealed their perfect bodies, and exposed them to the cold, although they appeared oblivious to it. And it was utterly, utterly inconceivable that those two slim, sexy girls were strolling down the middle of the road, absent-mindedly carrying a great big bulldozer sideways on between them.

Mack's lower jaw almost scrapped the ground as he stared, robbed entirely of the power of speech. The incredible twosome continued to walk towards him as he stood, frozen to the spot. He watched the languid movements of their wonderful, slim frames as they moved, their long shapely legs moving so gracefully with each step, the way they each appeared to be supporting the enormous weight of the machine so effortlessly at the end of a slender arm, their gorgeous faces not revealing a grain of strain. In fact, the only sign of strain came from the brief bits of thin material that covered their extremely impressive chests.

One girl - the lighter-haired one on the right - was slightly taller than her friend, so the bulldozer was not exactly perpendicular to the ground as they moved. That only served to make the remarkable sight even more fantastic. Convinced now that his eyes were lying, Mack tried blinking furiously to dispel the illusion. When that failed to get rid of the startling vision, he had a go at pinching himself. By the time he'd tried and failed to dispel the "hallucination" with a sharp slap to his cheek, the two angels and their huge piece of shared luggage were right in front of him, even more real-looking and (the earth-mover excepted) attractive than before.

"Hey you!" the shorter, dark-haired one said again.

"I know you're not real." Mack found himself answering. The girl laughed.

"Tell us what this thing is." she said, lifting her side of the bulldozer a couple of feet higher before lowering her slim arm back to its original relaxed position as if the effort of raising and lowering half a piece of construction equipment was nothing. Stunned by what he had just witnessed, Mack remained silent. The taller girl added, chuckling:

"Tell us or I'll show you how real we are."

"Who... who are you?" Mack asked.



Lyda was losing patience with the Earther. "Answer the question!" she snapped.

"Er... I..." he stumbled.

"What is this thing?" she repeated, her voice carrying a hint of anger now.

"Er... it's a... a bulldozer. Who -"

"What's it for?" Tara interrupted.

"Moving stuff."

Tara was curious. "How's it work?"

"Um.. there's a thing that normally goes at the front -" he pointed to the broken, twisted bits of metal protruding from the machine "- the stuff goes in there and... er.. then it gets moved about."

"That bit you broke off!" Lyda exclaimed in her native language. "They built a device this big just to move something that small! They're so pathetic!" Both girls laughed, the heavy device quivering violently in their hands as they shook in their amusement.

Their laughter was not long-lived. Both Tara and Lyda became aware of the male looking at them uncomfortably. Tara spoke. "I suppose now we know what it's for, we don't need this thing anymore." Lyda wasn't sure if she was referring to the so-called "bulldozer" or the Earther who had told them what it was. The creature was staring at them somewhat puzzled by the unfamiliar language in which they were conversing. Finally, he managed to organise enough of his mind to ask them a question.



Mack couldn't understand a word of what they were saying to each other. Not being a man over-burdened by knowledge of the world, he wondered if they were Russian agents, speaking in their native language, the bulldozer trick the result of some James Bond-style gadgetry at work. "Who are you?" he enquired once again.

"Oh, we're just goddesses" the taller one replied, sounding slightly bored. There was no trace of an accent like Russians always had in films.

"Go.. God.. Goddesses?" It look him a while to be able to pronounce the unexpected word. Once it had sunk in to his mind, he felt a kind of sense of relief. Now he knew for sure that it was all just a figment of his imagination. He looked at the two girls standing before him and the enormous piece of construction equipment they were carrying between them as if it were no heavier than the small half-empty suitcase in his own hand. The "goddess" bit certainly fit the bill. Anyone who could lift a bulldozer and fill a bikini like that deserved the title. At least it was an easy-on-the-eye hallucination. The kind he could feel in his shorts.

The two girls began to discuss something in their unintelligible language, chatting across the mechanical lifter and ignoring him completely. One of them nodded as if to indicate something in the street behind him, but when he glanced over his shoulder, he couldn't see anything but a few bits of trash. They noticed his confusion and laughed. Mack had become accustomed to people laughing at him lately, and paid it little heed. At least when these two laughed they showed their lovely teeth and he could watch their fabulous breasts jiggling. So he just continued to stare at the two beautiful strangers.



"Look at that miserable creature! It's one thing that he can't see through buildings like we can, but his useless Earther ears can't even hear the vehicle coming up behind him!" laughed Tara.

"And look at the way he's drooling over us! It's pathetic." Lyda added. "It's like he's never seen a woman before. Let's put him out of his misery." So saying, she tensed the arm that was carrying half the weight of the bulky moving machine as if preparing to throw it towards the confused male.

"No, wait." her friend interjected. "I've got a much better idea. That vehicle that's coming - let's wait for it to get close enough for his feeble senses and then put on a little show for him. It'll be fun to see his reactions."

"And then, we'll put him out of his misery?"

"Of course."



Twenty-five hundred bucks! Not bad for thirty seconds' work. Of course, George knew the gold necklace he'd grabbed through the smashed jewellers' window would never fetch that much on the black market, but the hand-written figure on the still-attached price-tag excited him all the same. Even if he got half that amount from the fence, he could pay off the guys who were threatening to break his legs and have enough left over for a vacation somewhere hot. And it had all been so easy! Sure, the alarms had gone off, but he was back in his auto speeding away from the scene in seconds. He was already clear across town. Another mile and he would be safely at home, watching TV.

"I'm a fucking genius!" he muttered to himself as he glanced down at the shining metal loop on his lap. He looked back up at the street in front of him only just in time. With a yell of "Shit!" he slammed his foot on the brakes, bringing his automobile to a screeching, violent halt. If the dishevelled looking guy who had been standing in the middle of the road hadn't dived for the sidewalk, George knew he wouldn't have stopped in time. But it wasn't that idiot that concerned him at that moment. He blinked his eyes and stared through the windshield, trying to take in the sight before him.

There was a bulldozer. With the front scoop broken off. Its wheels were about three feet above the tarmac, but it didn't appear to be hovering under its own power. No, it looked as if it was being held in the air. By two stunning teenaged girls. Wearing brief two-piece bikinis. Holding the huge machine between them with one hand each. Two gorgeous, sexy, slim girls looking for all the world as if carrying a bulldozer was no big thing. George's lower jaw hung so low, his chin almost grazed the steering wheel.



Mack had been so wrapped up in staring at the two girls' bodies that he had almost failed to react to the car barrelling up the road towards him. At the last moment, he had managed to snap out of his trace and throw himself towards the side of the street. He heard the screaming of brakes and smelt the burning rubber of tyre on road as he rolled to the sidewalk. Ignoring the cut he had sustained to his right eyebrow, he gathered himself just enough to sit up and face the now stationary vehicle. Then he turned his head to the girls and their enormous burden.

It was like something out of a psychedelic Western movie. To his left was the car, its engine still chugging, its driver's expression a picture of shock. To his right stood the beautiful young women holding their bulldozer. The two parties faced each other directly, a distance of about fifteen yards between them. High Noon. For a few moments, no-one moved. Mack's eyes ping-ponged between the car that had almost killed him and the two shapely girls. He was waiting to see who would make the first move. He should have known.

The two teenagers glanced at each other. Then there was an almost imperceptible back-swing of their long, slender arms. Mack wouldn't have noticed it but for the fact that the movement caused the massive bulldozer to move as well. What followed was astounding even by the standards of what had transpired up to that point.

The subtle backwards motion ended and a much more obvious forward swing began. Mack watched, disbelieving, as the gentle, apparently casual, movement of two young women's limbs was transferred to the enormous piece of construction equipment. It was as if the load they were carrying between them weighed no more than a three-quarters-empty sports bag. The big yellow machine did not lurch forward; it glided in a graceful curve that measured about eighteen inches in length. Then, simultaneously as far as he could tell, two dainty sets of fingers opened, releasing the superhuman grip they had held on either side of the huge metal contraption.

The momentum that the easy motion of the girls' slender, feminine arms had lent the bulldozer was mind-blowing. It was so great that when they let go, the whole thing continued to travel, uninterrupted, in the same graceful arc. It soared into the air, silently and surreally defying gravity as it reached the apex of its smooth flight path, the bottom of its wheels at least thirty feet above the ground. But, despite the incredible lift of the beautiful young women's effortless toss, there was still more than enough energy left to propel the mechanical monstrosity forwards as well as upwards.

As the bulldozer finally began to fall under the spell of gravity, its ascent slowing then reversing, Mack found himself perfectly placed to anticipate its angle of descent. His shock at seeing the device hoisted so easily into the air turned rapidly to horror. The moments seemed to stretch as he realised exactly where the airborne construction equipment was about to crash-land.



George was paralysed by his brain's inability to process the information his eyes were relaying. Had he really just witnessed a couple of beach babes tossing a bulldozer into the sky as if it was the kind of inflatable plastic ball that would be appropriate to their attire? Hadn't he watched the huge piece of machinery rising upwards until it was almost obscured from view by the top of his car? And, just before it did leave his restricted field of vision, hadn't he seen it slow and begin to descend? So, where was the thing now? Common sense and logic told him that it had to be.... "Oh fuck!" he thought.

His survival instinct pulled him out of his catatonia. Panicked, he reached for the handle of the door. The solid metal roof of his car hid the bulldozer from him, but he knew in that instant that it had to be falling right towards him. Unaware of how much time he had, George flung the door beside him open and threw himself towards the gaping exit, not trying to climb out on foot but rather intending to roll clear of the car when he hit the road.

He had got his head, shoulders and arms clear of the vehicle. The rest of his body was just about to follow when the massive earth-mover crashed down on to the thin layer of steel that was the top of his automobile.



Mack had watched the graceful arc of the flying bulldozer as if it were taking place in slow motion. It seemed to take forever to come down. He wondered why the guy in the car wasn't getting the hell out of there. When the door opened and he finally began to get out, Mack realised with a sudden tightening of his stomach that it was too late. He heard the tremendous impact as two of the machine's giant wheels hit; a clang followed by the explosion of tyres, the moaning of deforming metal and the smashing of glass.

The bulk of the underside of the bulldozer was on top of the vehicle now. The heavy construction equipment seemed to settle snugly into place as the car beneath it folded and crumpled and disintegrated. The windshield and windows dissolved into countless diamond-like pieces that were flung from the wreck for yards in every direction. The car's frame became ever flatter and wider, bent almost completely beyond recognition as the terrible noise of metal being tortured began, at last, to die down. Small clouds of dust and debris rose from somewhere between the underside of the bulldozer and the remains of the car beneath it.

The impact-resistant steel never stood a chance beneath the weight of the falling machine. As for the fragile body of the car's driver... Mack saw him disappear beneath his collapsing vehicle, only his outstretched arm not buried by crushed metal. He felt sick as he saw a growing pool of red liquid emerging from the edge of the wreckage. The horrific puddle formed around the dead man's arm, slowly submerging the necklace that was still clasped in his hand. But there was no longer a body attached to the end of that arm. Mack fought the vomit rising in his belly.



They should have been used to it by now, but both Tara and Lyda were impressed by the devastating effect of their casual toss. The sight of the huge Earth machine flying through the air and crashing down on the vehicle completely destroying it and its occupant was - even to them - incredible. It was yet another stark reminder to the girls of the almost unbelievable power they possessed. They faced each other in mutual admiration. Speaking in the language of Earth so that their shocked audience of one would understand, Tara told her friend "That was fun."

Lyda glanced at the Earther who was still staring open-mouthed at the carnage in the middle of the road. Back on his feet now, he looked even more pale than before. A mischievous grin spread over the dark-haired girl's face as she said "They'll need another one of their "bulldozers" to clear up that mess!" Tara laughed, ignoring the man ogling her as she did. It took her quite a few moments to recover her composure.

"So, what do we do with him?" Tara asked once she had regained control of herself, still using the Earth language. The man tore his eyes from her chest to look at her face, clearly terrified.

"Oh, it's so hard to choose.." Lyda replied, enjoying this new game of verbal torture. Her words had a dramatic effect. The Earthman turned on his heels and ran.



Mack had no idea what the hell was going on, but he did know one thing: he didn't want to end up as pizza underneath a bulldozer. Those two girls might be the most beautiful he'd ever seen in his life, but he'd also seen that they were killers. They called themselves "goddesses". They threw construction equipment around. And they were wondering what to do with him. He figured he didn't want to wait around and find out. Forgetting all about his suitcase, he started to sprint down the sidewalk. He knew he had a dozen yards head-start on the girls yet he barely managed to take six or seven strides when he felt something by his side.

An instant later, his feet were off the ground. He felt a piercing pain in his right arm and looked down, shocked. The dark-haired teenager was by his side, holding his upper arm. Not just holding, but almost crushing. And she had lifted him off the sidewalk, carrying him by his arm. He was in agony as the girl's slender feminine fingers curled impossibly tightly around his arm. His feet kicked out in a panicky, futile attempt to secure his release. He thrashed his free arm about and bruised it against her smooth bare stomach without affecting her grip in any way. He tried jerking his body about, but nothing he did made the slightest difference to his predicament. The girl held him fast.

"Please!" Mack hissed through his gritted teeth. The pain in his arm was terrible, but his terror was worse. "Don't hurt me!" The raven-haired beauty ignored him as she called up the street to her friend in their unintelligible tongue.



Tara had to admit it. Lyda had a remarkable imagination. And a great sense of entertainment. Her latest idea certainly proved that. Tara looked down the street towards her friend. She was standing some fifty paces away, still holding the hapless Earther by his arm. The brunette smiled as she thought of how little idea the male had of what was to come. Lyda had already explained the game she wanted to play. The object was to keep the Earther off the ground for as long as possible. The only rule was that they couldn't touch him. This was going to be a lot of fun. Tara called out her readiness to begin.

Once she had her friend's acknowledgement, the shorter girl started the game. She tugged upwards on the Earther's arm, releasing her iron grip as she did so. He yelled in fear as his body rose straight up into the air until the soles of his shoes were level with the top of her head. So much for getting him airborne. Now, according to the instructions of her game, Lyda had to keep him there without touching him. Of course, she already knew how she was going to achieve that aim.

She tilted her head back so that she was looking directly at the man's face as he began to fall groundwards. Slowly, enjoying the sense of anticipation before yet another exhibition of her power, Lyda pushed out her sexy red lips. She waited just long enough for the falling Earther to see her upturned pouting face and then she blew gently, enjoying the sound of air rushing from her superhuman lungs as it was funnelled into a jet by her puckered mouth. A second later, she stopped exhaling.



When the girl threw him up into the air, Mack's first emotion was relief. Relief because the terrible pain of her crushing one-handed grip on his arm had ended. It was only when he stopped rising and began to fall that he began to fear new agonies. But he didn't get to crash down to the sidewalk. He caught a glimpse of the stunning dark-haired teenager as he started descending. Her lovely face was tilted up towards him but her chin did not obscure her big, firm breasts straining against her bikini-like top. He noticed that she had shaped her mouth into an "O" shape, as if she were about to kiss him. Even as he plummeted he couldn't help but admire her beauty.

Suddenly, he wasn't falling anymore. He was rising. He was being pushed upwards by an exceptionally strong gust of hot wind. For a moment he was perplexed but as the blasting air filled his nostrils with a sweet and somehow very feminine scent, he realised that he was being blown into the sky by the girl's breath. The sensation was incredible. It was all over in a second as she closed her mouth and he began to tumble to earth once more. He saw that the girl was not panting, but rather smiling. Her bright eyes followed his descent, her head lowering all the while.

Then, as his fall carried him almost to the point of impact with the deadly concrete below, she pouted her lips once more, this time sucking in her cheeks slightly as she exhaled, forcing the air through her lips with much more force. The volume of controlled wind she generated was so huge it sounded like a typhoon as it left her stunning body. It smacked into Mack like a wall, instantly stopping his plunge, lifting him away from the sidewalk and pushing him backwards through the air as if he'd been fired from a Roman catapult.

She sustained it far longer this time, sending him flying up the street. He caught glimpses of her, standing calmly in a casual pose, one gorgeous leg slightly bent and her long arms hanging by her sides. Like her luscious lips, her fabulous chest was thrust out towards him. The strange, thin material of her tiny upper garment seemed barely able to contain her two large, round mounds as she leant forward and continued to blow. Even in the panic of the moment, the sight of her beauty and the feeling of her lovely warm breath all around him filled Mack with lust. It was true. She was a goddess.



Tara waited patiently as her friend launched the Earther into the air and then kept him up there with nothing more than her breath. When Lyda then blew him the fifty paces up the street towards her, she understood that it was her turn. Although the other girl had cut her exhalation now, she could see that there was still plenty of momentum in the man's flight to carry him over her head and quite a distance beyond, such was the power of the dark-haired girl's lungs. Tara decided not to let that happen. She paused until the male was directly above her and then craned her neck to send a little puff of her own breath straight up at him.

The little puff stopped the Earther travelling any further down the street, altering his trajectory from the horizontal to the vertical. She smiled, enjoying the sensation of power that came with the realisation that she could toss a big man about with a little bit of easy exhaling. He spun slightly in the air so that his terrified and confused face was turned towards her as he began to fall once more. Getting really into the game, Tara winked at him just before puckering up and blasting him with her breath for a second time, changing his direction once more to send him hurtling back towards Lyda.

He flew the fifty paces at just over head-height, arms and legs thrashing about wildly, an intermittent cry of shock and helplessness competing with the roar of the wind Tara was effortlessly creating. As he shot away from her, her remarkable eyesight was able to discern the burgeoning erection beneath his clothing that stood in testament to the erotic nature of the sport she and Lyda were having with him. It was great to know that they could drive a man wild with lust, secure in the knowledge that there wasn't a single thing he could do to them. Really great.

She stopped blowing as their latest victim hurtled towards her friend and watched amused as the dark-haired girl first controlled his momentum with a gentle exhale and then sent him careering back towards her with a much bigger, longer puff. She looked at Lyda, the enjoyment of the moment and the ease of it all so clear on the dark-haired girl's face as she blasted the Earther with her lungs, knowing that she, Tara, also possessed the same incredible power. They didn't even have to touch a man to launch him skywards!



Mack had never imagined that he would one day be used as a human table-tennis ball. But as he rocketed back and forth between the two teenaged girls, buffeted, lifted, pushed, controlled and thrown by nothing more than their wonderful, hot, sweet, sexy breath, he knew that he had become no more than an accessory in their game. His fear was diminishing now, replaced by a sense of utter helplessness and a growing feeling of sexual desire. As he flew close to each girl, he was overwhelmed by the sight of her. They were so beautiful, their figures so magnificent. They stood so confidently and acted so effortlessly as they took turns to (in so many ways) blow him away.

In mid-flight between his two young tormentors, he found himself drinking in their delicious warm breath. It was irresistible. Even though he knew he was losing control of his loins, he found himself unable to combat the temptation of allowing the girls' exhalations to fill his senses. Without a conscious effort on his part, he soon became overwhelmed with sexual excitement until, inevitably, he felt himself spasming and, still ping-ponging through the air up and down the street, he began to ejaculate, drenching himself and his shorts and trousers with his fluid.



"Oh my word!" Lyda exclaimed as the Earther flew towards her for the sixth or seventh time. "He's cuming!" She hadn't needed to see the stain at his crotch to know that he had shot his load. She had smelt it from thirty paces when his back was to her.

Tara immediately stopped exhaling. "How pathetic!" she replied. Although it was Lyda's turn to blow the creature back to her, Tara wasn't surprised to see her friend jump up into the air and catch him with one outstretched hand around his lower leg instead. The dark-haired girl came gracefully back to the ground, her knees barely bending at all to absorb the impact. The Earther's whole body pivoted helplessly as she held him fast by his ankle, his head swinging to smack against her smooth shin, knocking him instantly unconscious.

With the game now ended thanks to the male's lack of self-control, Lyda suddenly realised that she and Tara had lost all track of time. Ignoring the comatose man hanging upside down from her petite hand, she called to her friend "Hey, Tara! Hadn't we better think about getting back?"

"Shit! You're right." the brunette agreed. "Get rid of that - " she used a nod of her head to indicate the dazed Earther, "- and I'll transport us."

A gentle flick of Lyda's delicate wrist sent the big man spinning through the air to the side of the street. His body crashed into the side of a building, striking the brickwork between two second storey windows, leaving a large dark red stain before bouncing down to the concrete below and landing in a bloody, deformed heap. The girls did not need their superhuman senses to know that he was dead. Immediately, Tara activated the transporter band on her wrist.



The morning brought a new wave of panic to the town. Whatever had caused all the damage and bloodshed in Rick's Bar was clearly now moving out and wreaking havoc elsewhere. The combined authorities had their work cut out just trying to conceal their helplessness. They got to work identifying the poor guy who - judging by the gruesome stains - had somehow been thrown twenty foot up against a wall, probably dying even before he then fell to the sidewalk.

There was so little left of the other corpse that the cops needed to check dental and finger-print records to put a name to it. It took them quite a while to get to what remained of his teeth and fingers. They had to use a whole raft of tools to cut his cadaver from the crushed, twisted metal of the car he had been in. And they couldn't even start doing that until a crane had been called in to lift a bulldozer that - unbelievably - appeared to have dropped from a great height onto the destroyed automobile.

Some theories were offered to explain the carnage, but the only thing that everyone could agree on was this: whatever or whoever was responsible, it possessed unimaginable power. It never crossed anyone's mind to suggest that the culprits were a couple of bored, bikini-clad teenage girls.


Conceptfan, Apr. 2002.

Chapter 5


"I told you we wouldn't get caught."

"Yeah, you did. But I bet even you were scared for a while."

"Me? A goddess? Scared? No way!"

"You're not a goddess here. You're just a girl terrified of being busted for unauthorized use of a transporter band. Just like me. And shit, Lyda, we came damn close to being found. I don't think I can take that again."

"Well, as long as we keep getting away with it, who cares how close we came?"

"I do. I dropped the band again putting back, I was so nervous. Sooner or later it'll break and then everyone will know what we've been up to."

"You need to lighten up, Tara. Why don't we unwind by having fun with some Earthers tonight?"

"I told you. I'm not going through all that again."

"We won't have to. We'll get back quick and it'll be nice and relaxed. No panics."

"That's what you said last time!"

"And? Were we caught?"


"Fair enough. If you're too scared, that's too bad."

"I didn't say I was too scared..."



After the bulldozer mysteriously moved two blocks down the street, obliterating a guy and his car, no further work had taken place on the corner where Rick's Bar once stood. No-one wanted anything to do with the place. The authorities were still clueless about the series of bizarre deaths in the area. The paranormalists had their theories, ranging from the ridiculous to the even more ridiculous. People started moving their homes and business out of the surrounding blocks. Legends and rumors spread and distorted until the district acquired a reputation as a place where people randomly got horrifically killed by rampaging monsters.

Desperate to stop the flow of corpses and save the economy of their town, the authorities set up a constant watch over the area, with shifts of permanent observers, well equipped with expensive weaponry, stationed outside the remains of Rick's. Then they introduced regular armed patrols and a network of closed circuit television cameras that were more suited to a top secret government laboratory than the streets a block in each direction around a minor intersection in a small town. In the meantime, a rough brigade of civilian vigilantes formed itself, dedicated to wiping out whatever it was that was terrorizing the neighborhood. And so the weeks passed.



"I told you it wasn't working properly! It's never made a noise like that before." Lyda exclaimed as the two girls rematerialized.

"Yeah, well you were right then." Tara snapped back. Then, more reflectively, she added: "So, where the hell are we?"

"Why should I know?" asked the shorter, darker haired girl. They both turned slowly where they stood, studying their environment, hoping to spot something familiar that would reveal their location.

After a longish paused, Tara sighed "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," agreed Lyda, "but I can't see any Earthers, so how are we supposed to have any fun?" She narrowed her eyes, bringing her superhuman vision into effect, scanning everything within a wide area.

They were standing on a plateau of rock that rose high above the surrounding landscape. There were plenty of trees all around and the dusty ground was littered with dry, flowerless plants. The night sky overhead was clear and full of the light of distant stars. The only sign of anything unnatural was a series of regular smooth paths, set far below in the ground at the foot of the flat mountain. They were clearly intended for the type of Earther vehicles the girls had already encountered. But there was no sign of any vehicle on any of the paths at that moment.

Tara stood by her friend's side, both girls' long arms hanging free by their hips. They were wearing their customary brief outfits; enough material in one piece to cover the greater part of their large breasts and just enough in the other to hide their crotches. The wind whistled past them as they stood on the exposed plateau, lifting their long, straight hair from their shoulders, and buffeting their magnificent bodies, but neither girl felt cold. They surveyed the land laid out so far below their naked feet, confident in the knowledge that, lost or not, there was nothing down there that could harm them. Suddenly, Lyda grabbed Tara's arm.

"Look!" she said, pointing at the horizon. "Do you see that?"



Sergeant Li checked the bus in his rear view mirror and flicked his eyes back to the empty desert road in front of him. He thought about the chain of events that had landed him in his unusual task. Two days earlier, there had been yet another bad riot in one of his country's many ancient, crumbling, bursting jails. This time, the wall had been breeched and a couple of convicts had escaped. The governor decided immediately that the remaining inmates would have to be transferred to another prison whilst the necessary repair work was carried out. As part of that process, Li and a colleague had been assigned to a marked car and ordered to accompany a secure prisoner transfer bus on its journey.

They traveled at night when the roads would be clearer, but little trouble was expected on the journey. The particular group of convicts that they were transferring were not the sort who had friends on the outside - certainly not the sort of friends who could plan and carry out a break-out attempt. Already they'd been on the road for four hours without the slightest hint of difficulty, remaining in formation throughout. Li and his partner Sun led the convoy in their car, with the bus - a pair of armed prison guards inside - following. So far, their only problem was staying awake on the featureless desert highway.



Tara and Lyda watched the two vehicles as they appeared from over the horizon. A smaller machine like the ones they had already encountered and another much larger and longer one. The girls' enhanced vision enabled them to clearly observe the face of every Earther in the all-male party, despite the darkness of the night and the distance between them.

"I was beginning to think we'd have to make our own entertainment." Lyda offered, clearly overjoyed to see the Earthers.

"Listen!" Tara instructed her. "They're speaking a different language!"

"Yeah, I've heard it. Earth has hundreds of languages, you know. I read about them back home. We must be on a different part of the planet."

"Well, it makes a change! As long as these creatures are as pathetic as the others..."

"No point standing here talking about it - let's find out!"

Tara looked down over the edge of the rocky platform they were standing on. The plateau was high - maybe fifty times taller than she was. The ground seemed a long, long way away. "How are we going to get down?" she asked.



Most of the men in the bus were asleep. Those who weren't were keeping quiet. The pair of experienced guards scanned their charges, rifles at the ready for the first hint of any problem. Behind thick steel barriers, the prison service driver concentrated on the night road. The trip had been completely uneventful up to that point and that was just the way they wanted it. They were about to pass the great flat mountain that marked the approximate halfway point of the journey. Four more hours and they would arrive at their destination.

Even in the middle of the night, lit only by the moon and stars, the huge, ancient flat mountain was a spectacular sight. Li shot glances at it as he drove. In summer, they were usually a few tourists camping out at its base, but this time of year it was as deserted as the landscape around it. The sight of it reminded him of the glory of nature and made him feel helpless by comparison. He knew the high plateau rose almost a hundred meters above the desert. Not for the first time in his life, he wondered what it would be like to stand on top of it and look down at the world below. But, he sighed, he'd need a helicopter to get up there. And to get down again.



"Nothing can hurt us on Earth. Right, Tara?"

"Yeah, of course."

"So, I suppose the best way down from here is like this." Lyda had barely finished her sentence when she bent her knees and leapt feet-first off the side of the mountain.

"Lyda - wait!" the taller girl called, panicked. But it was too late. The dark-haired young woman let out a whoop of joy as she fell rapidly groundward. Her long hair flapped above her head as the wind shot past her on her descent.

The fall was about twenty times further than fatal distance for an Earther. Lyda's feet slammed into the hard, rocky ground with a tremendous crash. The stone cracked beneath her soles and a small plume of dust and rock debris was thrown into the air as the solid ground yielded to the girl's naked, petite feet. She finally came to a halt, still perfectly upright, standing in a small crater of her own creation, her flat, subtly muscled abdomen level with the land all around. The brunette laughed. She was impressed with the damage her slim body had caused to the landscape, and with the fact that she had survived the huge fall and tremendous impact at the end of it without even suffering any discomfort.

"Come on down!" she called up to her friend.

"Are you sure?" Tara's voice floated down.

"What are you? A goddess or a coward?" The answer was not in the form of words. The taller girl's long, shapely legs propelled her over the edge of the plateau into the cold night air. She yelled out in delight as a child might until she crashed into the ground a few paces from her friend. The resulting shower of rocks as Tara's soles turned the solid stone beneath them to powder covered Lyda. Some large chunks of debris hit the shorter girl's head, dissolving into dust when they struck the invulnerable flesh and bone of the young woman. Meanwhile, Tara kept her balance perfectly as she finally came to rest, standing ankle-deep in rubble in a waist-high crater.

The girls shook the dust and debris from themselves and leapt easily out of the twin impressions that they had made in the desert at the foot of the rock that towered above them now. Tara glanced up at the lofty plateau, clearly impressed with the way she had so easily survived her fall. "So what now?" she asked.

"Let's go and introduce ourselves." suggested Lyda. The taller girl nodded her agreement and the two young women set off at a leisurely jog on a course to intercept the little group of vehicles.



Ten seconds later, Li checked his watch. Noticing that the convoy was as close to the foot of the mountain as the road came - about a kilometer away from the sheer rock - he deduced that they were making good time. He looked up from his wrist to the view through his windshield quickly, although he knew there would be nothing but empty desert in sight. But this time, something caught his eye. Something moving incredibly quickly across the desert, traveling parallel with the road, about twenty meters from it. In the darkness, it was hard to identify at first. He squinted at it, trying to discern a recognizable form from the obscured, mobile streak.

His eyes took a few seconds to adjust. It wasn't a motorbike - it was too high and not long enough, and besides whatever it was it made no noise. That suggested some kind of animal. But Li couldn't think of any large creature that lived in the desert. Certainly not a creature that could run at a hundred kilometers an hour. Gradually, between brief glances at the road ahead, he began to make sense of the shape. It wasn't one animal. There were two of them, side by side. Two... humans! That had to be it! But they were running so fast - how was it possible?

Still sprinting alongside, the pair moved a little closer to the car. Their legs moved so impossibly quickly, they remained a blur, but as Li stared some more, he was able to see the shape of the two upper bodies. Definitely human. There was no mistaking the familiar silhouettes. Human female. Young, stunning and unquestionably female. The sergeant had never seen such a pair of incredibly well-formed profiles. He had all but stopped looking at the road ahead. He was transfixed by the view through his side window. His eyes had to be deceiving him. It had to be an hallucination. He turned to his partner for reassurance.

"Hey, Sun! Is it me or is there something out there?"

Sun turned to look in the direction Li had indicated. "What the fuck...?"



Tara was jogging side by side with her friend, the two girls matching the pace of the pair of vehicles without making any effort. For a while, as they had quickly narrowed the distance between themselves and the Earthers, they joked about the creatures' limited vision abilities. The girls could make out every detail of the interiors of the machines, but not one of the many men in the group had even noticed either of them approaching. But now that they were just a few strides away, they had finally been spotted. They were level with the two males seated at the front of the lead machine. As usual, their very appearance - or maybe it was the speed at which they were moving - was a shock to their new companions.

The effect on Earthers of her mere presence still amused Tara. To see the men frantically gesticulating, their eyes wide expressing great surprise, reminded her of the immense power she possessed in their world. Her mind raced with the possibilities promised by the next few minutes. There were so many ways she could exercise her superiority over these creatures and so many ways she could toy with them. And, even more excitingly, there was nothing on the planet - no man, no machine - nothing that could hinder her. She felt a tingle of anticipation running through her youthful, lean, sexy body. She could not wait to start showing off.

As Tara was closest to the vehicle, it was down to her to make the first move and she was more than willing to oblige. She took a couple of accelerated strides, instantly bringing herself within easy reach of the speeding primitive device. Then she slowed down once more, carefully matching her pace with that of the vehicle before turning towards the startled males inside. Giving them both a warm smile, she calmly straightened her right arm out. Her petite fingers passed through the transparent material in the side of the machine, instantly shattering it into countless tiny pieces that rained down on the males. The shards drew blood wherever they struck the flesh of the men but left no mark on her own, flawless skin. Tara laughed. The game had begun.



Li and Sun watched transfixed in disbelief as the taller of the two young women moved right up to the driver's side of the car. They were doing nearly a hundred kilometers an hour and yet the girl kept pace with them without the slightest hint of strain on her beautiful face. In fact, she was even able to turn and grin at them; a stunning smile that seemed to suggest she was holding a surprise in store for them. Li was still wondering what it was when she stretched out her long, thin arm towards him. The girl's hand passed straight through his side window as though it hadn't been there. He yelled in pain and shock as half a dozen shards of glass tore into the side of his face and neck.

Sun also shouted his discomfort as a couple of bits of broken window cut into his flesh, too. Yet he could see that there were no wounds on the strange woman's lovely skin. He could also see that she was smiling even more broadly now, as if the sight of his and his colleague's blood amused her. He tore his eyes from her sexy mouth to look at her long, bare arm. She had thrust it almost as far as her shoulder inside the car, her open palm upturned, delicate fingertips almost brushing the roof. Instinctively, he reached towards his pistol, his fingers opening the holster and withdrawing the weapon with well-practiced expertise. In all the confusion the heavy, chunky metal felt reassuring in his grasp.

Next to him, Sergeant Li was struggling to maintain control of the car as his wounds began to sting. The skin around one of his eyes was starting to swell, partially obscuring his vision. He knew he couldn't keep driving any longer and tensed the muscles in his foot, ready to squeeze down on the brake pedal. But as he pressed his shoe down, expecting to hear the sound of tire friction, he heard instead a creaking noise that felt as if it came from the frame of the car. Then they seemed to drive up a ramp on to an incredibly smooth stretch of road. It was as if their vehicle had suddenly transformed from an automobile to a hovercraft.

Li was stunned. Despite the growing discomfort caused by the lacerations in his face and the disturbing distraction of the slender feminine arm stretched across the very upper limit of his vision, he had managed to keep one eye on the road ahead most of the time. And as he had glimpsed through the windshield, there had been no sign of any brief, sharp incline on the highway. Furthermore, the road surface remained as monotonously unchanged as it had for the previous twenty kilometers. So why had he felt the car rise and the ride becoming so unfamiliarly smooth? And why weren't the brakes working? Why weren't they slowing at all even through he had pressed the pedal all the way down?



Tara was amazed by how light the Earther vehicle felt as she lifted it off the ground with just the fingertips of her single outstretched hand pressing upwards on the inside of the thing's roof. She continued to jog along at the same speed so that the machine's momentum was unaffected as she effortlessly hoisted it into the air. She watched in semi-bored amusement as the male who had been controlling the thing leant his head through the opening she had made in the transparent panel in the side and glanced down first at the bottom of the machine and then at her pretty bare feet. Then he pulled his head back inside and looked up at the fingers of her hand that were so comfortably supporting the weight of both men and vehicle.

Having seen for himself that the mastery of his machine was now completely in her hands, he released the controls and explained the situation to his colleague in short, panicked sentences. This second male responded by briefly glancing out of his side of the vehicle. When he turned back, his face was several shades paler. Tara noticed that the weapon in his hand was now shaking violently. Realizing that the dim-witted males had finally worked out what she was doing, she turned to Lyda and joked "I think I've managed to get their attention now!"

"What are you going to do with them?" the shorter, dark-haired girl inquired.

"Hmmm." Tara mused, her eyes sparkling with wicked enjoyment. "I'll think of something."

"Have fun!" smiled Lyda. "And while you're at it, I'll take the big thing behind." She gestured with her head at the large rectangular shaped vehicle still following close behind the much smaller one Tara now held aloft.



Driving the bus should've been a boring, routine job. But now, Fan was hypnotized by the view through the huge windshield. He had seen nothing until the two girls had moved into the beam of the bus's powerful headlights. Suddenly, there they were, appearing from out of the darkness. He thought he was hallucinating. Never before had he seen two beautiful, slim young women with stunning figures displayed to the full by the briefest of outfits, running as fast as a speeding car, their long hair streaming behind them, legs moving so fast they were a constant smear to him.

As he watched, controlling his vehicle by subconscious instinct alone, he saw the taller girl approach the car in front and smash the driver's side window. Then, he saw the car rise half a meter above the tarmac. Its speed remained constant, but its wheels weren't even turning anymore. It took him a moment for him to understand what had happened. The single slender arm of the taller beauty was holding the automobile aloft while her legs carried girl, car and occupants along at ninety kilometers an hour. He was still digesting the sight when he noticed the other girl - a dark-haired temptress - suddenly stop running. She turned around, taking a couple of strides into the middle of the road. She was right in his path.

There wasn't enough time for him to hit the brakes. Experience told him that even if he tried to stop the bus or steer it dramatically to the side to avoid the girl, the whole vehicle would tip onto its side. He might manage to miss her, but he might well end up killing himself as well as the two guards and the ten prisoners in the back. The only thing he could do was sound his klaxon and reduce the speed of the bus as much as he felt was safe. The screech of tire on road was almost as loud as the blare of the horn, but the girl seemed not to even notice. As the gap between bus and beautiful young woman quickly shrank, Fan instinctively threw his arms across his face to protect himself from the gruesome sight of splattered girl that he was certain he would soon witness.

He couldn't see, but he could hear. He heard the screeching of braking tires dramatically end, only to be replaced by a tremendous metallic clash. Suddenly, the bus wasn't moving any more, as if it had just hit a brick wall. But his momentum remained. He felt himself being thrown forward, over the steering wheel and then through the windshield. The unseen impact shocked him although his arms protected his face from shattering glass at the cost of painful wounds to his wrists and elbows. Too terrified to open his eyes, he felt the air rushing all around him and awaited the inevitable, painful impact with the ground. His shoulder hit the tarmac with a mighty crack, followed by the rest of him. As he rolled over and over, he was already unconscious.



Lyda laughed as the huge, clumsy vehicle smashed into her and stopped almost dead in its tracks, her slender, feminine body far more than a match for its primitive engine and its enormous momentum. She looked down at the front of the thing and saw the metal molding itself slightly around the shape of her hips and her bust. The sudden stop caused the male controlling it to fly from his seat, smashing through the clear view panel and sailing past her shoulder to crash down several paces behind her. Her enhanced eyes spotted the twelve males in the back of the vehicle lurching violently and ungainly forward, falling on to one another. She laughed at the comical scene she had caused.

The men began to gingerly regain their feet, untangling themselves from each other, rubbing their bruised limbs. Then, Lyda saw something interesting happen. Two of the males wore gray garments and carried weapons whereas all the others were in orange. This second group had no firearms, but wore chains on their wrists and ankles that dramatically restricted their movements. It wasn't particularly difficult to work out that the gray-clad pair were holding the oranges as prisoners. She wondered why. Seeing as the individual who had been controlling the big vehicle was out cold, she decided to investigate.

The machine was so huge! She scanned it with her remarkable eyes, seeing the enormous and complex metallic machinery inside. Such primitive, clumsy technology! A smile lit up her face as she remembered how easily she had stopped the speeding bulk and realized once more the scale of her power. Bending down, her shoulders and breasts tearing into the metal of the front of the machine, pushing the steel aside as if it were a sheet of thin fabric, she curled the fingers of one hand around the bottom of the vehicle. Then she straightened up once more, her one petite hand raising the huge machine up and away from her body as easily as an Earther would pick up a sheet of paper.

Having extricated herself from the metallic embrace, she took a moment to admire the imprint of her body in the steel, impressed by the contrast between the damage inflicted on the vehicle and the untouched perfection of her own form. She pulled her hand out from beneath the big machine and watched satisfied as, without the support of her delicate feminine palm, the thing slammed back down to ground. There was a bang of pressured air escaping from the wheel surroundings and the whole vehicle quivered for a moment before it came to rest. Seeing the men inside loosing their feet once again, an idea occurred to her. Her luscious lips parted in a wide, mischievous grin.



Sergeant Li was unaware of the dark-haired girl toying with the bus, its driver and its dozen passengers. His attention had been focused elsewhere for a while. On his own plight. All thoughts of his mission had disappeared from his mind. Now, his sole priority was survival. The events of the past few moments were so incredible, he wondered if he had dreamt them. But the pain that throbbed throughout his body was proof enough that it was all for real. And the blood soaking his trouser leg, still oozing from the agonizing wound in his thigh. He hadn't imagined that either. It was all terrifyingly true.

The hole in his leg had been made normally enough - by a bullet from his partner's pistol. But the trajectory it had taken to lodge itself in his yielding flesh was something else. It had happened shortly after the girl had one-handedly picked their car off the road and run with it. Although both he and Sun had been amazed by the speed she moved at, the incredible young woman had started accelerating until, Li guessed, she was carrying the automobile - and its passengers - at over two hundred kilometers an hour. The bus quickly shrank in the rear view mirror as they traveled at phenomenal speed. Unaccustomed to the strain, the frame of the car began to shake. Yet the girl showed no signs of tiring.

As the dark road streaked by, disturbingly further than usual beneath them, she had - apparently effortlessly - lifted the car so that the two policemen's eyes were more or less level with her own. Then she had winked at them, as if they were children and she was about to show them a trick. Immediately, she increased her pace, running so fast now that Li and Sun were pressed back into their seats by the gravitational force. The night world outside became an indecipherable blur. The whole automobile rattled as if it was about to fall apart. How fast were they going? Three hundred k.p.h? More?

That was when Sun had panicked. He screamed at the girl to stop, but she responded only by flashing a casual smile and running faster still. Li saw his partner's hands shaking wildly as he held up his pistol and shouted again for her to halt. Then, Sun had fired a shot. He had aimed for the center of the girl's stunning face. Despite his trembling grip, the range - about half a meter - meant he couldn't miss. Li felt a burning pain in his left leg and looked down to see a deep purple hole in his thigh. The girl hadn't moved. The blood began to spurt. "What the fuck?" muttered Sun, looking over at him.

Li's police training came to the fore. He'd seen his colleague take aim and knew that he couldn't have fired so inaccurate a shot. Plus, the bullet had gone into the outside of his left leg, although Sun was seated on his right. Amidst the blood, he could just make out the edge of the slug, enough to see which way it was pointed. It had entered on a vertical trajectory. The only possible explanation was a ricochet. But off what? A chill ran through his body. He already knew the answer. The lump of lead embedded in his thigh had rebounded from the girl's face. She was bulletproof.



Tara hadn't been displeased by the pointless attempt at wounding her. She loved the shocked expression on Earthers' faces when they discovered that she was invulnerable to their weapons; it just emphasized her power over the puny creatures. She had begun to ease her sprint, being careful not to stop too suddenly for fear of damaging her new toys. She spoke to them as she slowed, addressing her comments mainly to the one with the weapon. "That was nice." she teased. "Could you do it again?" The words sounded strange coming from her mouth. She knew she had an instinctive knowledge of every Earther language, but this one was very different from the one she had used on her previous visits to the planet. Nonetheless, her speech was as fluent and flawless as her movements.

There was no answer to her mocking question. She came to a halt, and dropped the vehicle unceremoniously back onto the ground. The two males bounced dramatically on impact. Tara walked confidently around to the other side of the machine to be closer to the man who had used his weapon on her. She had enough experience of these Earther vehicles now to know exactly how to get closer to her latest prey. She casually hooked a single finger around the chrome opening lever on the side door and with a gentle tug effortlessly pulled the door clear of the rest of the vehicle, its metal hinges tearing with a squeal. The suddenly exposed male inside looked up at her with terrified eyes. Without thinking, she tossed the detached vehicle door away with a flick of her delicate wrist. It spun off into the night air, coming to ground more than a hundred paces away.

The man on the far side of the machine was occupied with the obvious agony emanating from his injured face and leg. She ignored him and concentrated on the other - the one who had attacked her with his useless weapon. Having removed the barrier between them, she lowered her head to talk to him once more . His eyes flickered downwards as she bent over towards him, and she realized that his gaze had been drawn to her generous cleavage. She almost laughed out loud. Wasn't it enough that she was vastly superior to these men in every physical way imaginable? It seemed not. She also held yet another power over them - her femininity. Smiling as she contemplated the huge extent of her control, Tara spoke seductively to the uninjured male. "I see you like my chest. That's so sweet!"

Perhaps he was too absorbed in the sight of her pendant breasts to listen properly. Perhaps his brain had been damaged by his brief high-speed ride. Or maybe he was still in shock after witnessing her easy removal of the vehicle's door. Whatever the reason, the man didn't seem to hear her actual words, but rather acted as if she had somehow threatened him. Trembling violently, he raised his weapon to her face once more. "G-g-go away!" he stammered, his eyes still fixed on the dark valley at the center of her chest.

Ignoring his wishes, she slowly lifted her hand towards the shaking weapon, hoping to provoke him. Her plan paid off. "Go away!" he said again, his voice full of terror, his hand quivering even more dramatically. She smiled.

"No." she said. He took the bait, and squeezed the tiny lever that activated his weapon. He wasn't even looking at her face where his shot was aimed. He was looking at her breasts. Besides, his hand was trembling so violently, he had no hope of firing accurately. Tara had to move her head sharply up and to her left in order to catch the little pellet between her straight, white teeth. It was enough to pull his eyes off her cleavage. The male's face of disbelief after her trick amused her. She made a show of chewing the little lump of lead, her jaws slicing and squashing the metal as if it was a piece of ripe fruit. Then, to the obvious amazement of her audience, she swallowed the remains, the smile returning to her face.

"That was nice." she said. The man with the weapon responded by preparing to fire again. She reached out, covering his hand with her own, making him hesitate. "Let's try something else this time." she breathed.



Sun's mind raced with a mixture of extreme emotions. There was fear - terror even - of the strange girl who seemed to possess god-like, magical powers. He felt shock, too. That was the result of seeing the young woman catching and eating a bullet like it was a piece of popcorn he'd gently tossed in her direction. And there was another emotion too. Sexual desire. How could he not respond to the breathtaking beauty of the girl? Her stunning face with its sexy mouth, her smooth, flawless skin, her long, slender limbs, her unbelievable figure. Now, as he prepared to shoot her a third time, she had rested her lovely hand over his, the contact between her perfect flesh as his own sending a tremor through his entire body, causing him to pause mid-way through pulling the trigger on his pistol.

She said something about trying something else. What did she mean? Suddenly her petite hand was pushing his own big fist downwards, changing the aim of his gun. For a second, he didn't react. Then he glanced down at the little feminine palm that was moving his large, masculine hand and realized the ridiculous nature of the situation. He tried to hold his hand still, to resist her, but she continued to move him around as if he wasn't trying to stop her at all. He brought his free hand into the action, thinking he could pull her away from him, but no matter how hard he fought, he couldn't make the slightest difference to the slow, steady downward movement of his hand and the pistol in its grasp.

She continued to force his hand downwards, past her chin, all the while pulling it - and the pistol in its grip - closer to her glorious body. He struggled with every ounce of strength he could summon, desperately trying to regain control of his hand, but his efforts were a complete waste. He couldn't resist her. She just didn't even seem to be trying, yet it soon became clear that her slender single arm possessed vastly more strength than the whole of his upper body. His pistol was pointing at her neck now, the flawless female skin just a few centimeters from the end of the barrel and still she pushed it down.

Sun's eyes opened to their widest extent as he followed the inescapable path of his gun ever lower down her body until it seemed to be aiming straight at the middle of the girl's deep, inviting cleavage. He stared at her two large round breasts that seemed about to burst from the tiny garment covering them at any moment. She was incredible. He wondered what she would be like to touch. A moment later, as she suddenly pulled his weapon towards her, he found out. The steel barrel found its way erotically between her mounds; his hand, still gripping the other end of the pistol brushed against the exposed flesh at the top of her stunning chest. He felt electricity run the length of his body.

The girl removed her palm, letting her arm hand straight by her side. He moved to pull his weapon away from her and found, to his shock, that he could not. His gaze was fixed on its resting place, wedged between the two glorious spheres of femininity. It couldn't be possible that she was holding the gun so tightly with just her chest muscles. He wrapped the fingers of both his hands around the handle of the pistol and tugged with all his might over and over again until sweat poured down his forehead and tears welled in the corners of his eyes, but he failed to budge the weapon even a hairsbreadth.

In desperation he placed his left palm over her right breast for extra leverage as he pulled with his other arm. She was so impossibly firm beneath his hand that even when he pushed with everything he had, he could barely make the tiniest of impressions in her magnificent mound. He tried to squeeze her, half out of a desire to hurt her and half out of his own rampant curiosity. His strong manly fingers hardly even indented her supposedly soft womanly flesh. The pistol remained absolutely immobile. Even her breasts were stronger than him! He lost himself in the sheer eroticism of handling the perfect superhuman bosom until he was finally brought out of his dream by the girl's voice.

"Stop playing and shoot me now" she said, authoritatively.

"Wha...?" It was the most coherent reply he could manage. Her hand covered his own once more, her slim middle digit curling its way around to rest on top of his trigger finger.

"Go on. Shoot me now." she insisted.

When he didn't react immediately, the girl literally forced his hand by squeezing his finger against the trigger. Sun closed his eyes. He heard the bang and felt a wave of tremendous heat that scorched his fingers. He opened his eyes. Nothing had changed but the color of part of his hand. His fingers were crimson. But the girl was still standing. The end of his gun was still buried deep in the luscious valley of her perfect chest which appeared totally unaffected by being shot from point-blank. Smoke curled upwards from between her breasts. Smiling, she used the hand still covering his own to pull him and his weapon away from her.

There was a flattened lump of metal trapped in the space between her sternum and the beautiful walls of the insides of her two breasts. He realized at once that it was all that was left of the bullet that had ploughed into her. Slowly, she extracted it with her thumb and forefinger, holding it up for him to see for a moment before opening her hand and letting it drop by her feet. Sun swallowed hard, continuing to stare at the place it had been wedged. The girl just laughed. "Is that the best your little toy can do? I hardly even felt that." she teased. Before he think of answering, she added "I wonder if your face is going to feel any better."



Meanwhile, some way down the road, the men inside the big vehicle still hadn't worked out what they had crashed into or what had caused the front of the huge people carrier to rise waist-high into the air and then slam back down onto the road. They spent an age - prisoners and guards alike - struggling to climb back to their feet. They moved awkwardly and painfully, their bodies covered in bruises. The two men in gray uniforms had hurried to be the first to recover, gripping their weapons in readiness should any of their charges be thinking of taking advantage of the chaos by trying to flee. But it seemed that the metal chains the prisoners wore made escape impossible for even the most adventurous of them.

In all the activity, no-one inside noticed the dull thud of Lyda's delicate bare feet landing gently on the roof. She had effortlessly leapt on top of the vehicle from a standing position, her knees hardly bending to provide sufficient spring. For a while, she had stood on the flat metal panel, her hands resting on her slender, curved hips as she watched the clumsy action taking place beneath her, her enhanced vision piercing the roof of the machine. But soon, she grew bored of merely observing the males. She walked calmly towards the rear end of the vehicle, smiling broadly as she considered her intentions.

Lyda stopped still just a single step from the edge of the roof and gracefully raised her long, shapely right leg. She pointed her toes as if admiring her own beauty for a moment before plunging her pretty naked foot downwards. Her sole ripped through the vehicle's ceiling without slowing, puncturing and tearing the metal as if it were a sheet of paper. The men inside turned as one to look up in shock at her delicate limb. Enjoying their attention, she swung her leg, watching as her calf cut a channel through the roof, enlarging the hole she had punched. There was a crack as one of the men in gray fired his pathetic weapon at her. She barely felt the little metal pellet bouncing off the sole of her foot.

Dropping onto her knees, the dark-haired young woman used both her hands to grip the edge of the tear she had made. Slowly she pulled her arms towards herself, loving the scream of protest given off by the metal as it yielded to her vast strength. It felt more like tearing the weakest cloth than steel. A large section of vehicle roof stretched, tore and wadded up against her knees in moments as she effortlessly created a rough square opening. She crawled backwards, continuing to peel back the screeching metal, the huge strip of removed roof compacting against her infinitely harder thighs and abdomen into a solid, dense lump.

Lyda stopped only when she had opened almost the entire length of the vehicle to the sky. She stood up, tearing off the crushed remains of roof and with one hand, under-arm-tossed the folded up chunk aside. It sailed off maybe sixty paces into the desert darkness. It was clear from the reaction that even the males in the machine heard it crashing down in the distance. They cringed as one when the thud reached their ears. She laughed to see it, making one of the gray-clad pair turn to point his long weapon at her. His colleague kept his own firearm trained on the ten other males but the group in orange appeared too absorbed in the sight of her to notice. She looked down at them all, her hands defiantly and dominantly on her hips. "Who wants to play?" she asked.



It was about that moment that Tara, a couple of thousand paces away from her friend, had freed her current victim's firearm from her cleavage. She looked down at the male still seated in his vehicle, his recently used weapon hanging uselessly from his burnt fingers. She studied him briefly. If the creature's eyes were anything to go on, the pathetic male was absolutely obsessed with her chest. It was as though he'd never seen a woman's bosom before. Or perhaps, she wondered, he had never seen one like hers. Whatever the reason behind his fascination, it had inspired her to be generous. After all, she had the means to fulfill his fantasies.

She had been intending to merely end his life with a casual flick of her fingers - a punishment for attempting to kill her with his noise-maker (even if the pellets had failed to so much as tickle her). But now, she realized she could be kind and kill him in a way he might enjoy. To begin with, anyway. Reaching down for him, her body tingling with an ever increasing sense of power, she took a one-handed hold of the collar of his garment. His unhurt hand came to intercept her, his knuckles turning white as he fought to remove her dainty fingers from his clothes. He might as well have tried to remove the stars from the sky. Tara merely ignored his efforts.

She pulled him clear of the vehicle, his big body hanging from her petite hand. He felt as light the breeze to her as she supported his considerable weight on her long, slim outstretched arm, holding him high so that his feet only just touched the ground. He tried pounding her beautiful face with his unburnt fist, but by the third hit he was crying out in agony, his hand rapidly turning purple while she was still concentrating on trying to feel his blows. With his arms now unusable, he tried kicking her ankles and kneeing her stomach and groin. The effort made him sweat, and the strain on his face revealed that he was holding nothing back. But, of course, his struggles hurt only himself.

Bored with the male's pointless resistance, Tara decided to carry out her plan. She bent her arm, pulling him nearer, and at the same time lowering his head. His knees bent as she forced him downwards, the strength of the slender young woman's single hand effortlessly overcoming the resistance of the big man's two legs. Soon she held him with his nose positioned just a hand span in front of the center of her voluptuous chest. Her sensitive ears detected a dramatic acceleration of his breathing and his heartbeat which amused her. She was a visiting goddess and he was a feeble, helpless Earther. But, at that moment, Tara knew he was just a typical man staring at a pair of tits from close range.

She pulled him hard against herself, forcing his nose into the chasm between her breasts. For the briefest of instants as his cheekbones pressed against her mounds, her delightful womanly flesh yielded to his hard head. But it truly was a short moment. When it passed, it was the male's tough face that gave way to the girl's supposedly soft chest. She was careful not to press him too hard, not wanting to cover herself in his blood. Just enough to hear the increasingly familiar crunching sound. His final scream was cut short as she casually held him more tightly against herself, effortlessly collapsing his skull on the feminine perfection of her beautiful breasts. Then, she dropped his body at her feet.



Li had sat, transfixed with fear, wonder and pain as the girl had ripped off the door on the other side of the car. He'd watched her catch his partner's bullet between her lovely teeth before somehow trapping the poor guy's gun in her incredible cleavage. He was motionless even while she took a shot there without blinking and then pulled Sun out of the vehicle with one hand. But when he saw her killing his colleague by crushing his head with her breasts, he finally gathered the will to move. He opened the door on his side and swung his wounded leg out of the car. Standing unsteadily, he began to limp away from the car.

He had barely managed to struggle ten meters from the road when he heard the girl's voice calling after him. His blood froze as he heard her words. "Hey! You forgot your vehicle!" He spun around as fast as he could which wasn't particularly fast with the bullet in his thigh and half a dozen pieces of smashed window in his face. The sight that greeted him when he did manage to turn shocked him even in the context of the previous minutes. The girl was standing in the middle of the road, lit only by the moon. She was striking a casual, sexy pose. Her long right leg was straight, at a slight angle to her body, her left knee a little bent. Her right hand rested on her hip, its dainty fingers resting on her flat stomach.

Her smooth, bare shoulders were pushed a little forward so that her fabulous chest was thrust out towards him. She was smiling. Her left arm was stretched up over her head, elbow straight, hand held flat, palm towards the sky. And resting precariously on that single, little palm was the car. She was keeping it overhead, holding it there as if were a polystyrene replica rather than a thousand kilos of steel. Somehow, she'd found the balance-point of the chassis so that it wouldn't tip from her small hand and somehow, she was able to keep her arm still enough to prevent it rocking. Li stared at her, in awe of her beauty and her incredible power as she bent her arm and then restraightened it as if trying to gage the car's weight.

She raised and lowered the vehicle three times in that way, grinning all the while. Then she spoke, confusing him with a barrage of mocking questions "You're not very talkative, are you? What's the matter? Are you sad because I've taken your little vehicle away from you?" He wasn't sure if she expected him to answer. "Is that it?" she went on "Do you want your noisy machine back?" Still he said nothing. The girl continued her monologue. "Well, I'm bored with it now, anyway. Here, take it back."

Before he could even open his mouth to protest, the slim young woman had already pushed up her arm, launching the car into the air as if she was releasing a captive bird. The entire vehicle flew upwards for only a moment before it began to descend, its dark underside looming over him and filling his vision. Panic gripped him. He was too injured to run. He dived for the dusty ground, praying for a miracle and throwing up his arms in futile self-protection. Less than a second later the car came down to land squarely on top of him. He never even heard the sound of it crashing to the earth.



Tan had had no idea how the strange dark-haired girl had managed to stop the bus and tear its roof off. He assumed at the time that she had used some amazing foreign gadgets. He felt more certain of her intentions. This was a prison transfer. Why else would anyone - a small army or a single girl - attack it, other than to free one or more of the men being moved? As his sole job at that time was to guard the prisoners - or to put it another way, make sure that none of them escaped - he knew that he had to stop her before she could carry out her plan. His colleague, Zi, was busy watching the men. That was why it had been Tan who fired the first warning shot over the girl's head as she stood on what was left of the roof of the bus.

He saw a blur of movement by the girl's side as he shot. Suddenly, she was holding something in her hand. It looked like a bullet. He knew it couldn't be. She chucked it gently back to land at his feet. He knew it was. She had caught it. What kind of gadget could do that? Nervously, he squeezed the trigger a second time. He wanted this one to go much closer to her and properly scare her. Her arm became a streak once more and a moment later a second slug landed between his heels, actually hitting the one already there.

"Don't you know any other games?" the girl asked, making him look up from his shoes. Her taunt made him angry. He aimed once more, this time, lining up his barrel with the center of her forehead. But he had barely lifted his finger to the trigger when the girl seemed to disappear from the roof of the bus, reappearing immediately inside the bus just half a meter in front of him with a rush of displaced wind that almost knocked him off his feet. How was that possible? He was beginning to wonder if his gadgets theory needed revision. He recovered his balance and enough of his composure to point the rifle at her face once more.

There was barely a five centimeter gap between the end of the barrel and the girl's cute nose. Yet, despite that Tan saw that she was smiling. Her grin unnerved him and he moved to finish her off before she could pull any more tricks. But it was too late. In less than the blink of an eye she had raised her head and leant forward, opening her mouth as she did so. Now the end of his weapon was inside her sexy mouth, her lovely lips wrapped erotically around the barrel in a mock fellatio that sent his pulse racing. The incredible girl winked at him. He panicked and fired the gun.

The kickback was much weaker than he had expected, almost as if something impossibly strong was holding the rifle in place. But there were only his hands and the girl's lips. Even stranger, there was no sign of a bullet emerging from the back of her head. Instead there were a couple of dull thuds and then nothing as if the slug had just bounced around inside her mouth. She parted her lips. Smoke curled from within her and Fan caught a glimpse of something metallic on her tongue. Then she swallowed. When she re-opened her mouth, the lump of metal had vanished. She licked her lips sensuously and took the barrel of the gun deep into her mouth once more.



Although it had been amusing letting the Earther shoot her from close range, Lyda was rapidly tiring of the pastime. Her pretend blow-job on the weapon was also rapidly losing its fun value. She decided to give her audience, which by now was every man in the vehicle, a little demonstration of her intent. If she was pretending that the end of the contraption was a male sex organ, then she would complete her dominance by emasculating it. Before the male could activate his weapon yet again, she slowly closed her jaws, feeling the pleasant sensation of steel yielding to her perfect teeth until she had sliced clean through.

She spat the lump of sawn-off metal from her mouth towards the man holding the other end of it. It passed clean through the center of his face, emerging splattered with blood from the back of his skull an instant before he collapsed to the floor. Red liquid trickled from the two big holes in his head. The other male in gray and the ten in orange who had been watching the scene turned away in horror. The whole group was edging slightly away from her now, towards the back and the sides of the vehicle. Lyda was pleased. They were scared of her. She flashed them a smile that was in no way intended to reassure them.

Her grin provoked the surviving gray-clothed man into action. He raised his rifle to her and, without managing to disguise the terror in his voice, barked "Stay where you are or I'll shoot!"

"Go ahead." Lyda answered, sounding bored. He obliged, sending another little metal pellet flying over her head. She didn't bother to catch it. She was getting really fed up with this Earther weapon ritual. Moving too quickly for her audience to follow, she ran up to the male in gray, snatched the firearm from his grasp and sprinted back to where she had been standing before, holding her captured prize out triumphantly in front of her.



Zi screamed in agony and terror. He looked at his right hand and saw three of his fingers hanging loose from his palm at an unnatural angle. Blood poured from countless wounds until he could no longer see what was torn, exposed flesh and what was still intact skin. It dripped onto his clothes and the floor adding to his feeling of shock. He couldn't understand what had happened. It was as if his rifle had exploded in his grasp, almost destroying his hand. But where was the weapon now? There was no trace of it anywhere. Then he looked up and saw the girl still standing next to Tan's body. She was holding his gun!

How had she done that? Had she magicked the thing into her hand? How had his fingers been almost torn off? He was sobbing now, eyes oscillating between the remains of his hand, the crimson liquid flowing from it and the beautiful young woman examining his rifle as if it was an ancient artifact. She was holding it out in front of her, staring down the barrel, one hand on the butt, near the trigger as if she was about to commit suicide. Then, she fired. Zi flinched at the sound, but the girl was motionless. She didn't even blink. Smoke curled from the end of the gun. Something hit against the back window behind him, cracking it. The bullet! It had ricocheted off her face!

He turned back to stare at the girl, the pain in his hand now a constant agony. She was holding his rifle out before her, one hand gripping each end of it. Slowly she began to bring her little fists together. The rifle moaned and groaned as if it were alive, finally screeching as it started to bend in the center. Inexorably, she continued to force the two ends of the gun towards one another. Zi and the prisoners were motionless, staring in utter amazement as the toughened steel weapon yielded to the slender arms of the beautiful girl until the tip of its barrel was touching the bottom of its butt. Then, the girl examined the now ring-shaped rifle for a second before speaking.

"This toy isn't fun anymore." she declared, sounding like a spoilt child. She tossed the mangled weapon over her shoulder into the nocturnal black where it instantly disappeared from sight. She focused her beautiful eyes on the stunned group of men in front of her. "What can I play with now?"



Tara sprinted down the vehicle track back towards the spot where she'd left her friend. She'd enjoyed herself with the two Earthers she had picked on, but now both of her toys were broken and she was hoping that Lyda would share some of hers. Although she wasn't pushing herself particularly hard, the tall girl's pace was more twice a match for any ground-based local vehicle. In very little time, she spotted the stricken transporter. Using her incredible vision, she was able to see, to her delight, that her companion had badly damaged only a couple of her own collection of males. There were plenty more still in full working order.

"Hey Lyda!" she called out in their language, "Save some for me!"

Her friend and her captives were only about a hundred paces away by this time. Tara launched into a vast, graceful leap that carried her the distance to the front of the big vehicle. The momentum of the incredible long-jump made a light landing impossible. Her pretty feet slammed into the surface of the track, reducing a significant area of it to dust, and smashing a much larger area of surface into large, crooked chunks. She sunk almost knee deep into the ground as a cloud of debris rose up momentarily and the rained down all around. A lot fell through the torn roof into the inside of the vehicle. Then men in there yelled in pain and covered their heads with their hands, but Lyda stood unmoving as bits of rock bounced from her skull.

"Careful!" Lyda called over her shoulder, using the language the Earthers spoke to make sure her audience would understand. "You might damage these poor, fragile men!"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to do that." Tara answered sarcastically in the same tongue as she hopped through the busted ceiling to land immaculately by her friend's side. Both girls laughed. The men, already mostly bundled together in a tight bunch, edged nervously towards the back of the vehicle. The single male in gray stood apart from the others, shooting frantic glances at his orange-clothed charges and the sexy young women, unsure which group he should be more afraid of. Tara looked at her friend, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Aren't they cute?" she asked. "Where shall we start?"



Zi was terrified. He had never felt so isolated in his life. His colleague Tan was dead. There was no sign of the bus driver or the two policemen who'd been escorting them. He was alone now with the prisoners and these two strange, incredible girls. These beautiful, unbelievable girls! The dark-haired one alone had torn the roof off the bus and killed his fellow guard. Now, there were two of them. He knew by this point that his rifle was useless against them, but he still felt especially vulnerable without it. He looked over at the prisoners. They, too, looked nervous and astonished. If this was an pre-arranged break-out, none of them seemed to have been party to the planning stage.

He looked for likely escapees. One of the convicts, a huge, heavily-muscled bald man whom Zi knew well, was cautiously looking up at the hole in the roof. Din was a failed gangster, serving ten years for his role in an extortion racket. He had been his gang's "enforcer", a vicious, ruthless thug who had continued to use his fists to get what he wanted even after he had been sentenced to prison. But at this moment, the big man's face - maybe for the first time in his life - looked more than a little fearful. Zi realized why when, suddenly, he hauled himself onto the shoulders of the unsuspecting fellow convict in front of him, making a two-handed grab for the bus' torn ceiling.



Din had no idea who the girls were or how the shorter one in particular had done the supposedly impossible things he'd seen her do. But he did know that the confusion and the dead guard, not to mention the missing policemen, provided him with a once-in-a-decade opportunity to make a run for it. He made a split-second decision to get the hell out of there. Being a fit man, he had no trouble springing off one of the other cons up towards the damaged roof, despite the cuffs on his wrists. He imagined himself leaping down to the ground and shuffling off towards the horizon in his leg-irons, hopefully never to be seen again. But it didn't work that way.

He was still pulling himself up onto the roof when he heard a commotion below and then felt something small and incredibly tight gripping his left ankle. He yelled in pain, surprise and frustration, trying in vain to pull or kick his leg free. He looked round over his shoulder and saw the taller of the two girls standing beneath him, smiling up at him, her left hand wrapped around the end of his leg. How was it possible that such a petite hand could achieve such a crushing grip? He saw a couple of men writhing on the ground near her feet as if they'd been knocked over by her when she had rushed to grab hold of him. But a slender girl couldn't just knock over two big men... Could she?

Unable to shake her off, he drew up his other leg as much as his chains would allow and planted the sole of his heavy footwear right in the center of the girl's beautiful face over and over again. There was no change in her grasp of his ankle or even her smile, but his foot was beginning to bruise inside his shoe. He tried to drag himself free by pulling himself along the roof, but his hands slipped and his leg remained completely trapped. Quickly he tired. Then he was being dragged back into the bus again, until she pulled sharply and let go so that he fell in an undignified heap on top of the two guys on the floor. Still sprawled, he tried to ignore his new bruises as he looked up at the beautiful young woman towering over him.

She was so sexy and so.. terrifying. She glared down at him, her hands resting on her hips. "I didn't say you could leave." she said, her voice casual. She bent down towards him, her gorgeous, large breasts seemingly about to fall out of her skimpy top as she did so. One delicate, feminine hand sought out his wrist, grabbing hold of it like a steel vice and making him cry out all over again. "Don't be such a baby." she chided him. She pulled his hand up to her lovely face, studying the steel ring of his handcuff, almost dragging him onto his feet whilst his spare hand was also pulled away from his body by the chain that linked his wrists. Din had never felt so utterly helpless before.



When Tara had seen the biggest male in the group trying to climb out of the vehicle, she had acted immediately. She ran straight into a pair of other men, hardly even noticing as each of her breasts slammed into one of them, bumping them both onto the ground where they squirmed around as if seriously hurt. Such pathetic creatures! It was no challenge for her to recapture the would-be escaper and pull him back into the vehicle. It was then that she encountered the strange metallic devices this male and all the others similarly clad in orange were wearing on their wrists and ankles. As she studied the curious contraption that joined the big man's two arms, her mind raced with ideas.

The rings of steel linked with little chains were obviously supposed to restrict movement and prevent escape. These men in orange were indeed the prisoners of the ones in gray. But the devices looked so feeble, she was amazed that they could be effective. She took hold of the loop of metal around one of the large male's wrists and pinched it between her thumb and forefinger. The steel yielded easily to her fingertips, the ring breaking almost instantly. Tara was amused. This ridiculously flimsy thing was more than enough to defeat such a strong-looking Earther!

The man tried to snatch back his freed arm. Tara caught his wrist and held him immovably, watching his pathetic struggles against her for a few moments before she grew bored and turned her attention to the problem of thinking up a game she could play with the little metal contraptions. Almost absent-mindedly, she bent down and grabbed hold of the flailing arm of one of the two men rolling around at her feet. Paying less than no attention his yells of pain, she yanked him in one movement on to his unsteady feet. Then she brought the two wrists she had captured together so that she could hold them both with a single hand. She smiled. She knew exactly what she was going to do.



Zi watched as the taller of the two girls got hold of Din and one of the other prisoners, moving the two big guys around like they weighed the same as empty potato sacks. She seemed to be fascinated with the men's handcuffs. In disbelief, he saw her slice right through the metal restraints with just two fingers, her hands working quickly as she reshaped the solid steel like it was soft butter. A second later, he saw that she had joined the two men's wrists together, molding the cuffs around their forearms in such a way he wondered if the pair would ever be separated again. How could such slender fingers command such awesome strength?

It was all so strange. If this was supposed to be a jail-break, why was she binding prisoners to each other? What the hell was going on? He stared, trying to work it all out. The taller girl had grabbed a third prisoner, breaking his handcuffs with unbelievable ease before equally effortlessly squeezing them back together again once she had joined the wearer to the other two. Even as she was adding this latest link to the chain, she reached for another man. Holding this one by the arm, despite his desperate struggles for freedom, she performed the same remarkable operation on his cuffs so that he, too, was soon joined to the growing string.

The other men began to realize what she was doing. As one they tried to move away from the area, but before they could take more than one-and-a-half steps, the other, shorter girl moved towards them, spreading her arms wide. For a moment, Zi expected to see the brunette shoved aside by the group of fleeing men. But then he remembered the impossible feats he had already seen her and her friend perform. The prisoners slammed into the petite young woman's arms and torso and were driven backwards against the side of the bus as she continued to advance on them, her pace not slacking for an instant.

He could see that the six unattached men were fighting for all they were worth, but it was only a matter of seconds before the shorter beauty had trapped them all between her lovely body and the wall of the bus. She had clearly cottoned on to her friend's handcuff trick because she started doing the same thing with the men she had pinned herself. She quickly got five of them linked together and then released the sixth, giving him a casual shove on the back that sent him flying into the arms of her tall friend who attached him to her own chain. They were like children, making strings from daisies. The only difference was that each girl had constructed a line of men, not flowers.



Lyda liked Tara's idea of using the chains to attach the men to one another. Once she had built her own line of captives, she asked her friend in their own language what she had in mind.

"Watch this." the taller girl answered. She tugged gently on the arm of the last male in the line she had created. He fell towards her. The chains attached to the next man pulled him over too, followed by the third and so on until all five men were rolling about helplessly on the ground, moaning as they nursed yet more wounds. Both girls laughed at the pathetic sight.

"Let me try." Lyda said, stepping towards the male on the end of her chain. She placed her open palm on the center of his broad chest and gave the most subtle of shoves. He fell immediately on to his rear, letting out a gasp of pain as he landed. Of course, Lyda's gentle push carried far too much force for the man attached to him to resist being pulled down too. His fall dragged the next man violently to the floor where he was followed in strict sequence by the two at the end of the line. Now there were ten males thrashing about at their feet, unable, it seemed, to co-ordinate their movements sufficiently to get back onto their feet.

"This is great!" chuckled Lyda. The girls were still conversing in their native language so that only they could understand.

"Wait 'till you play my new game." Tara responded.

"How's it work?"

"Well, first we'll need to get all of these men out of this vehicle."

Lyda smiled. "Oh, I think I know how we can do that." she said.



Din had always been the one who pushed others around. He didn't like being on the receiving end. Especially when the person pushing was nothing but a slim, young girl. And especially when the manner in which she did the pushing was so humiliating. But he had seen these girls survive being shot from point-blank, seen their fingers rip apart steel - even felt their crushing grip on his ankle and his wrist. He may have been a convicted criminal - a thug, even - but he was intelligent enough to realize that these two girls were not ordinary beautiful young women.

He had also come to the conclusion that they had not attacked the prison transfer bus in order to set any of the convicts inside free. It wasn't just the way they had bent and folded the handcuffs so that all of the men were all attached to one another. It was they way they had both laughed when they had forced them all to the floor. It was cruel laughter, rather like he would laugh at a tiny spider's hopeless attempt to scale the side of a bath. With a chill, he realized that the amazing duo were acting purely for the benefit of their own amusement and that he and the others - prisoners and guards alike - were nothing more than sport for them.

He and the other four men he was chained too had finally managed to scramble up to their knees. By checking with each other along the line to get the timing right, they were able to climb, albeit painfully, to their feet once more. As soon as he was upright, he looked to the spot where the two gorgeous youngsters had been standing. There was no-one there. He hadn't noticed them leaving the bus. And yet, when he peered through the barred window at the dark desert he could see them both standing on the road right by the side of the bus. How had they gone there so quickly and without being noticed? All he knew was that the more time he spent in the company of this pair, the more they frightened him.



Zi had seen the girls leave the bus. He'd watched as each had slightly bent her knees to generate more than enough spring for a standing jump that propelled them four meters into the air and three meters to the side. They landed outside on their bare feet like Olympic gold-medal gymnasts and just continued the conversation they'd started moments before. The taller one kept glancing at the bus while her friend just smiled and nodded. He shuddered to think what they were planning. He'd seen enough already to know that there wasn't much they weren't capable of. The sight of the ten prisoners wearing modified handcuffs that bound them in two columns of five was proof enough of that.

Both groups of men had now successfully struggled to their feet. Zi could see dozens of fresh cuts and bruises, especially where the newly-adapted cuffs had pressed into their arms. The prisoners seemed to be looking at him. Maybe they were expecting him to find a way out of their shared nightmare or perhaps they were plotting to murder him and make their escape. Either way, he realized, their attention would be better targeted at the two scantily-clad young "super" women. It was these two - a couple of teenage girls - who were controlling the situation. He was a trained, experienced prison guard. But neither he nor the ten tough convicts with him could do anything to resist.

Zi's eye caught a flicker of movement in the darkness outside. He turned to see the shorter girl walking rapidly up to the side of the bus. She stretched her arms up, leaning forward to plant her palms as high as she could on the side of the people carrier. Between the automatic emergency low-level illumination inside the bus and the moon in the cloudless night sky, there was just enough light to see both the girl's lovely smile and the alluring curve of her chest as she leant against the vehicle. Lost in her beauty, it took him a moment to register the loud creaking sound that suddenly invaded the relative quiet.

The creaking became a groan and the floor began to shift beneath his feet. The side the girl was standing on definitely seemed to be rising. Only then did he realize; this slim young fantasy was attempting to topple the massive bus onto its side! His mind exploded with the concept and he tried to reassure himself by clinging to the belief that the task was beyond her. But floor of the bus continued to tilt and, when he looked, he saw no hint of any strain on the girl's stunning features. It was getting harder to keep his feet; one of the prisoners did slip, and he dragged down the four others he was attached to. With a yell they collapsed and slid down the slope, getting tangled amongst the seats on the far side.

Still the incredible brunette continued to push. Soon enough, the other chain of prisoners lost its collective balance, slipping, tumbling and rolling painfully down the now steep floor to finish on top of the first group. Feeling his own footing becoming increasingly insecure, Zi gripped on to the nearest seat. The chassis of the bus kept moaning in futile protest at the abuse the single, petite girl was subjecting it to. Slowly, but inexorably, she was tilting the bus. Inside, the world was becoming increasingly confused. Gravity was pulling the eleven occupants towards the side windows; what had been the floor was now closer to where a wall should be.



Inevitably, Lyda soon tipped the big vehicle beyond its balance point. The creaking from the underside became a metallic scream for an instant. Then the thing fell quickly onto its side. There was a tremendous crash as the huge machine hit the ground. Impressed with her strength and the chaos she had caused, she used her ability to observe the interior through the metal casing. As the vehicle smashed down, the small transparent viewing panes shattered dramatically, showering the tumbling males inside with sharp little fragments, making countless little cuts in their fragile flesh. A collection of pathetic groans rose from the jumbled bodies, making the dark-haired girl smile with satisfaction.

"I thought you were going to get them out of the vehicle. They look like they're still in to me." Tara commented.

"I haven't finished yet." retorted Lyda.

She studied the now exposed underside of the huge machine, trying to determine the strongest part of its belly. The ability to see through solid objects came into its own as she found a section of the basic steel structure that was solid and well-attached to the rest of the vehicle. Then she walked up to the point she had selected and calmly punched her delicate-looking fist almost up to her elbow into the thick metal. The dense steel yielded instantly to her much harder skin and her impossibly powerful, yet beautifully slender arm. Enjoying the feeling of possessing such awesome strength, she thrust her other fist into the metal so that both her hands were well buried in the base of the primitive Earther people carrier.

Having established a firm anchor, she was ready for the second part of her plan. Tentatively, she began to raise her arms. Embedded deep in the steel base of the huge vehicle, her slim wrists and hands started to battle with the powerful laws of the universe that kept the machine Earthbound. The metal creaked as the petite brunette exerted forces it had never been intended to withstand. Then, suddenly, the entire multi-person transporter rose. A huge smile appeared on Lyda's lovely face as she became aware once more of the phenomenal strength in her lithe body. She went on lifting, the enormous vehicle now completely in her physical power.

"It's not as heavy as I thought it would be!" she declared triumphantly as the gap between machine and ground steadily increased until she was holding her arms straight out in front of her, the shapely limbs comfortably supporting the vast weight. She peered at its interior. She could see the tangled men looking shocked as they lay helpless in there. On the far side from her was the enormous opening she had ripped in what had once been the roof. It was all almost too easy. Still grinning, she shook her arms a little. The minor movement of her body was transferred via her unorthodox grip to the entire vehicle, eliciting an truly impressive and violent result.

She laughed as she saw the males tossed around as though they and their transport were caught up in the most vehement of earthquakes. In no time at all, she had succeeded in shaking one of the strings of five males free, the group tumbling awkwardly through the torn roof out onto the ground. They fell the short distance to land in a heap and then barely moved. Encouraged by the success, Lyda continued to aggressively rattle the huge vehicle. She could see a few of the remaining men inside grabbing on to whatever they could, desperately trying to anchor themselves, to prevent themselves being thrown around like children's toys.

It was a wonderful feeling to observe her strength rendering so many big males so utterly helpless. She shook a little harder and the second group of males came loose. A couple of them cried out as the arms with which they had been clinging on were dislocated from their sockets. Another easy move of her shapely long arms brought about a dramatic shudder of the vehicle. The injured pair and the others they had been linked to were thrown unceremoniously out into the open air. More moans reached the delighted young woman's ears. She loved having the power to hurt men.

Now, there was only a single male left holding on inside - the one wearing gray. Lyda called out to him in his own language, her voice taking on a falsely naive tone. "Don't be shy!" she mocked, "Come on out and play!" She gave the huge machine a couple more jolts. The man was gripping on to the back of one of the seats with two hands. As she shook the vehicle, his body swung around wildly, his legs crashing alternatively into the floor and the seat, making him yell in pain. But still, somehow, he maintained his hold. She was beginning to loose patience with him.

She jolted the thing once more, far more violently than before. There was a scream inside. At last, she had succeeded in dislodging the stubborn creature. Freed at last from his moorings, he bounced around the shuddering vehicle, slamming several times against what used to be the floor and one of the walls. When Lyda stopped shaking, he was no longer screaming. A quick glance told her why. Thick blood was trickling from a wound buried beneath his hair. He wasn't breathing. She'd thrown him about a bit too much for his weak male body to withstand.

"Oops!" Lyda giggled. Turning to her friend she said "Looks like I broke one of them. At least I got the rest of them out."

"Ten out of eleven. Not bad, I guess." considered Tara. Then she added, with a nod to the big vehicle Lyda was still holding at arm's length: "Better get rid of that thing."

"OK." said Lyda. She realized immediately that she wouldn't be able to do much with her hands still buried deep in the steel of the base of the vehicle. Still holding the entire machine well off the ground, she opened and closed her fingers a few times, the supposedly delicate digits easily tearing and compacting the metal that had surrounded them. Then she pressed her arms together a little before spreading them once more, effortlessly widening the twin channels she'd created when she had punched the underside of the machine. Now her hands and arms were free to move comfortably inside the improvised holds.

"Watch this." she said to her friend as she swung her arms a little to the right, carrying the huge vehicle with them as if it were no heavier than the air all around it. She followed this by throwing her arms fiercely back the other way, quickly pulling her hands free of the machine mid-swing and letting them hang by her sides. The enormous people-carrier continued to move in the direction she had pushed it, the power of her feminine limbs sufficient to send it sailing through the air for about thirty paces until, with an almighty crash it finally came down, side-first onto the wide, smooth black track the Earthers had constructed for their transporters.

Even though it wasn't on its wheels, the thing continued to move long after it had come to ground. So great was the momentum of Lyda's toss, it continued to scrape along the surface, millions of sparks flying where the metal of its casing rubbed the track. The screech of grinding steel filled the night as the vehicle traveled on its side for nearly fifty paces. Finally the sapping friction began to slow the machine's incredible movement and the volume of sparks reduced as it came, smoking, to a creaking stop. Everything became calm once more. Extremely pleased with herself, the little brunette allowed a huge grin to spread over her face.

"That takes care of the transport." observed Tara, trying to sound unimpressed with her friend's demonstration of superhuman strength. "Now I'm going to show you something." She began to stride towards the two tangled groups of Earthers still bunched by the side of the now empty vehicle path.

"Be my guest." said Lyda, generously.



Like the others, Din had been pretty badly hurt when the men were shaken out of the bus like dice out of a backgammon shaker. He managed to regain just enough control to be able to watch as the huge vehicle flew off down the highway, revealing the sight of the smaller, dark-haired girl. It didn't take a genius to realize that it was her who had single-handedly rattled the thing so violently and then tossed it fifty meters aside. Now, there was no doubt in his mind: these two beauties were not from this world. So who were they? And what did they want from the men? He had the feeling that he didn't really want to know the answer to this second question.

As if reading his thoughts, the taller girl began to stride towards the prone convicts. Seeing her advance on them, Din noticed for the first time that there was no sign of the guards or the police escort. He could only assume that they'd all been killed by the two superhuman young women. There was nothing to stop all ten prisoners regaining their liberty. Nothing except this pair of gorgeous teenagers. As the lighter-haired one stepped ever nearer, a mischievous smile fixed on her stunning face, fear began to overwhelm him. He wished he was back on the bus, under armed guard, on his way to prison. Five years in a cell would be much preferable to five minutes with one of the two girls.

The other guys were clearly having similar thoughts, because as she got close, they began trying to shuffle away from her. Wounded, lying in the dirt with their limbs tangled and each man with at least one wrist inextricably attached to another's, the men couldn't move quickly. Certainly not quickly enough to evade the beautiful slim girl. Din saw her bending down slowly, showing off her perfect body and reaching with one hand for the panicking mass. He watched as her delicate-looking fingers closed around a flailing wrist and heard a yell of pain as the owner of that wrist became the latest victim of her phenomenal strength.



Tara took her time picking out the end of one of the strings of five males, letting the creatures enjoy the sight of her leaning towards them as she caught hold of an unattached arm. Ten pairs of male eyes, already wide with terror, grew even bigger as she bent and revealed more and more of her inviting cleavage. Seeing them was a pleasant reminder of her incredible power. The cries of agony from the one she was holding only served to reinforce that sense of dominance, both exciting and amusing her as she dragged the creature to his feet. She truly felt a goddess here.

She noticed that the four others her new "friend" was inescapably linked to were struggling to get up one by one before their arms were ripped from their shoulders by the steel she and Lyda had molded around their wrists. The legs of some of the men towards the end of the chain were tangled up with the other group of five. She tugged gently on the arm she was holding, and was pleased to be rewarded for her effortless pull with the sounds of snapping bone and masculine screams. So fragile! So pathetic!

Drawn by that casual yank, the torso of her one in her clasp slammed into her generous, well-rounded chest. She barely felt the impact, but her ears did detect the cracking of his tough masculine ribs against her soft feminine breasts. He suffered more damage as the momentum she had leant him reached the man his wrist was attached to and this second male smacked into his back, pressing him further against her unyielding body. The force generated by Tara's slender arm continued to travel along the line of men. One by one the improvised steel links between then became taut and another creature was tugged violently upwards and forwards.

The third man crashed into the back of the second, pushing the unfortunate male at the head of the line even harder into her flawless front. Then the fourth banged into the third, followed by the last member of the group. There were gasps of pain and shock as the air was squeezed from each pair of lungs in the queue. She observed a thin trickle of blood emerging from the mouth of the one closest too her. The others had obviously caused him to be pressed a little too tightly against her; as the weight of four big men bore down on them, it was his muscular body that had given, not her slender form.

It didn't matter to her that one of the males was already almost dead. Her intended demonstration of power was meant for Lyda's enjoyment, not the Earthers'. She stepped back from the group she had separated from the others, admiring the two big black bruises that marked where the front man's chest had been crushed by her own. The battered creature's legs gave way beneath him and he would have fallen to the ground were it not for the unbreakable grip she kept on his wrist. The others still stood in formation behind him, too shocked and weakened to do anything but try and gulp down enough air to remain conscious.

Without loosening her hold on the dying male's limp arm, Tara walked towards the five men still on the ground. As she moved, she pulled the others along with her, the ten feet dragging through the dust not slowing her confident stride in the slightest. She paid no mind to the second group's pathetic attempts to scuffle away from her and easily caught hold of a free arm. Thinking of the damage she had done pulling the first bunch to their feet - stunning and winding four of them and nearly killing the other against her chest - she grinned in anticipation as she made sure she was standing directly face-on to the second bunch.



Din had stared as amazed and terrified as the men around him when the girl had yanked the other line of five guys on to their feet, pulling so violently that he heard the sound of hips and arms being dislocated all around him. He saw each man slamming into the back of another and found himself marveling yet again at the impossible strength of such a slim young woman. When she moved, he saw the damage her wonderful breasts had caused to the poor guy at the front of the line. That magnificent, sexy chest had to be as hard as steel! The idea confused him. It was terrifying, and yet... so very erotic.

Now she had got a hold of the man he was linked to. Din knew she was about to pull up that guy along with himself and the three others they were joined with. He saw the girl carefully positioning herself in front of them, thrusting out those fabulous breasts and he understood that she was about to repeat the trick she had performed with the first group. Once again, he felt mixed emotions: relief that it was the man next to him who would suffer the agony of being pressed up against her, and, at the same time, jealousy that he would not be the one to feel her chest against his own.

Before he could formulate any further thoughts, his brain exploded with surprise and pain. His arm felt as if it had been ripped from his torso. He was flying upwards and forwards but only for a moment until he hit the guy in front so hard he felt his own ribs crack, but the sound was drowned out by the sickening crunch he heard from the man he crashed into. Then someone smashed into him from behind and he couldn't breathe. Two more, less violent collisions followed, but he barely registered them as he struggled for air. He was aware that the guy in front of him was limp. He dreaded to think if the poor bastard was even still alive.



She made sure she did it properly the second time, pushing out her breasts and pulling the lead male hard towards them. She saw his chest collapsing against her mounds, heard the crunching of bone and observed, delightedly, as his eyes became dim and blood flowed out between his lips. He was dead even before the second man slammed into him. She held fast to the first group and watched as the second lot were quickly pulled to their feet. The knowledge that she had crushed the life from yet another male Earther with nothing more than her firm, round, feminine breasts thrilled her and she moved away a little, maintaining her grip on her latest victim's arm, to better see his destroyed body.

Tara stood out on the moonlit desert plain, proud and upright, a limp male arm clasped in each petite hand, a chained-up line of five big men attached to each of those arms. Two dozen paces away, Lyda stood watching, one arm hanging free by her side, the other resting casually on her shapely hip, her raven-hair-framed face a picture of amused semi-interest. The only sounds were the low groans of those men still able to register their pain as the taller of the two girls continued to admire her handiwork. The trickling blood, bruises and broken bones pleased her greatly.

Her gloating was interrupted by her friend's voice. "C'mon, Tara! Get on with it! We've gotta get back before it's too late."

"Alright, alright!" she answered.



Din was dimly aware of the two young women talking to one another. The pain that seemed to fill every single cubic centimeter of his being was making him ever fainter. He saw the taller girl's arms moving slightly and felt himself being dragged backwards by her. He lost his footing, but it made no difference. His feet just scrapped through the dirt as she maneuvered him - and, he just about noticed, the nine others - according to her whim. With what little strength he could muster, he twisted his head to look at the beautiful slender teenager who was pulling him and his fellow convicts around. It just didn't seem possible, but he knew it was. She had completely overpowered them all. Ten big men. All at the mercy of one girl.

Her long slim arms were both now stretched behind her as she stood in front of and between the two helpless columns of defeated men, her flawless, almost completely bare back to them. The delicate-looking fingers of her hands were still wrapped around the unfettered arm of the lead man of each line. Din caught a glimpse of her arms rising quickly over her head just an instant before his world dissolved in new agonies as his own arm was jerked upwards and something in his shoulder tore loudly. Then his feet were off the ground and air was rushing past all around him. He screamed and was vaguely aware of others screaming around him. Trying to open his eyes, he saw something dark rapidly approaching from below. The road! He was flying and he was about to crash down. "Fuck!" he thought. But he was dead before he could properly feel the impact.



Getting rid of the men turned out to be pretty easy and spectacular. Tara just positioned herself so that the two lines of males were behind her and flung each column forwards over her smooth bare shoulders. As she let go of the two wrists she'd been holding for so long, she let her freed hands fall to rest on her hips. The first man in each column flew over her head, pulling the next one upwards via their linked wrists. She could hear the muscles ripping in the Earthers' shoulders as each was successively yanked off his feet by the sheer power of her twin throws. Soon the whole length of each line was sailing into the night sky.

She was amazed how light each bunch of five Earthers was. Launching them into the air was almost effortless. She tilted her head back to follow the ten males' trajectory across the desert, a smile stamped on her features as she listened to the ever-diminishing screams of terrified, tortured men. She'd thrown the two at the head of each line so strongly that they pulled the others with them in a massive arc, despite the unaerodynamic shape of the two chains of males. The creatures soared away, the yells only stopping - abruptly - when the two columns finally crashed down to the dirt, at least four hundred paces away.

Tara was pleased with herself, not only for having the strength to temporarily free so many big Earthers from the bounds of gravity. And not only for finding a way of throwing so awkward a load so great a distance. It was more than that. It was the ease of it all - the way the creatures had flown so majestically from her grasp even though she'd only casually tossed them over her head.

"I love Earth!" Tara declared, more to herself than to Lyda.

"Me too." answered her friend. "Now, let's get out of here before we get in trouble back home."

"OK. OK." Tara pressed the little button on her wristband.



It was two days before the authorities located the bus, the police car and all their former occupants. At first, they thought a bomb had gone off under the bus, perhaps as part of an escape attempt. But nothing was charred. The more they looked, the more baffling it became. Why was one officer killed under his car while his colleague's skull had been crushed? Why were they two kilometers away from the bus? Why was the big vehicle lying on its side with its roof torn off? Why did one guard have a huge hole through his head? Why were all the prisoners half a kilometer from the road, all dead, limbs battered and dislocated? And most disturbing, how had they remolded their handcuffs so that their arms were linked?

Theories abounded, but hard facts were scarce. There were those who claimed that the bizarre massacre was the work of foreign powers, but no-one could say why, or how. Others suggested the scene resulted from a high-tech escape plot that had gone badly wrong, but again, the evidence did not fit with the story. Tales of ghosts, demons and dragons spread. Of course, no-one suggested the possibility that the death and destruction had been caused by two unarmed semi-naked girls.





"This isn't home."

"I know, Lyda."

"Well, where the fuck are we?"

"I, er... I don't know."

"Oh, shit..."


Conceptfan, Nov. 2002.

Chapter 6


"If this isn't home, then where the hell is it?"

"How should I know?"

"Well, you're the one with the transporter band. You said you knew how to use it."

"I do know how to use it - it's just not working properly right now."

"Oh that's just great! We could be stuck anywhere in the universe! We might never make it home and even if we do we'll be busted for using the transporter."

"Look, freaking out won't help us. No-one's been busted for anything yet. And at least we're not stuck here 'till the end of time. The band's still got some charge left in it - we can zap ourselves out of here whenever we want to."

"Have you programmed the correct data for home?"

"I... er... didn't programme it. It's supposed to be stored in the memory."

"Whaddya mean 'supposed to'. Why'd it go wrong last time?"

"Dunno. Maybe the memory's been corrupted or something."

"Corrupted?! What the fuck does that mean? Can't you re-programme it?"

"Um... no.   I don't know the co-ordinates. I only memorised the data for Earth."

"Fuck, Tara! You mean the only two places we can go are Earth or... or this shit-hole?"

"Not exactly. I don't actually know the co-ords for this place. We just sort of ended up here kinda at random. If we leave, I won't be able to get us back here again."

"Who gives a shit about getting back to this dump? I just want to go home!"

"Me too.  But we can't. Not right now at any rate. Maybe we can find a way to repair the band later."

"Later? How much later? I don't want to stay on this deserted lump of rock for another minute!"

"You don't have to. We can use the transporter."

"But I thought you said the only co-ordinates you know are for Earth..."

"Exactly! Wouldn't you rather be there than in this boring shit-hole?"

"Well at least it would be more fun! Are you sure you can get us there without fucking it up again?"

"Well, let's see, shall we?"



It would have been impossible for anyone in the Department to explain what had happened to the prison transport out in the desert. But in a bureaucratic, totalitarian culture like theirs, none of the people charged with the task of filing the report objected. In the end, they wrote that a bus had exploded for unknown reasons and that the blast had destroyed the entire convoy.  In truth, they had no idea what had happened.  All they knew was that something incredibly powerful had struck, killing all the men and destroying their vehicles. But, despite long, exhaustive searches of the area, there was no sign of whatever had wrought the devastation.



The calmness of the ocean was matched by the cloudless night sky.  Only the slightest ripple on the surface of the water and the gentlest breeze had troubled the serenity of the scene during the six hours since the sun had set. But in the darkness beneath the tiny waves, there was frantic activity. A school of fish had been disturbed, and its panicking members where chaotically leaving the comfort of the group.

The fish darted jerkily through the water, in marked contrast with the sleek, graceful movements of the two teenage girls who had startled them. The humanoid pair swam towards the surf at a speed no aquatic life form could hope to match, their shapely long legs generating immense thrust. In very little time, the girls simultaneously broke the tranquillity of the surface. Although they had been submerged for several minutes, neither of them gasped for air; indeed, they were anything but short of breath, a fact which they confirmed by immediately entering into a conversation. They spoke in their own language.

"Thanks for transporting us to the middle of a fucking ocean, Tara! Do you even know if this is Earth?" said one them.

"It must be, Lyda. The transporter band can't be that inaccurate." the other replied.

"Then where are all the Earthers?"

"On land, I guess."

"And which way is that?"

"How should I know? Let's try going in that direction." the second girl pointed at the horizon to indicate which direction she had been referring to. There was no objection from her colleague. Both girls began to swim, their slender bodies carving through the ocean faster than any man-made vessel could travel.



Jean-Claude slowed his taxi to a halt by the side of the road and climbed out, inhaling deeply so that the sea air would fully refresh his body. He loved this stretch of road where the highway followed the shore and often stopped for a while at night, provided he didn't have any fares in the back. On this particular night, he hadn't had a single customer and he was bored. Not worried - there were always going to be slow times - but bored. He wanted someone to talk to.

There were no other vehicles on the road as he sat on the front of his car, staring out at the unlit blackness of the ocean. All that vast emptiness of sea in front of him and sky above him accentuated his loneliness and he quickly climbed back into the car. Making sure that the "Taxi" light on the roof was lit, he drove off slowly. "Just one of those nights..." he muttered to himself, "The sort of night when nothing happens. Nothing at all."



"I can see lights!" called Lyda, delightedly.

"Yeah, I can see them too." her friend answered. "That must be the shore." With renewed intent. the two of them swam towards the distant specks of light. If their speed before had been remarkable, it now became astonishing. Their slim arms and legs ploughed effortlessly through the water, too fast for an Earther's brain to process. Yet not so much as a flicker of exertion showed on either of the teenagers' beautiful faces.

After a brief while, Tara said: "There's something moving over there."

"Where? I can't.... Oh! Yes! It's one of those useless Earther vehicles. Look, it's following the two lines of lights that run along the shore. The Earthers must have built the lights because their eyes are too weak to see at night."

"Pathetic creatures!" commented Tara. With unspoken agreement, she and Lyda changed direction so that they were now swimming parallel to the edge of the land, heading the same way as the vehicle.

"We can move ten times as fast through water as that Earther machine can move on land!" Lyda exclaimed triumphantly.

"Yeah, their machines are as puny as they are!"

"Tara, you've just given me a great idea."



The sun was just beginning to show on the horizon but Jean-Claude had long since resigned himself to a fare-less shift. "Just one of those nights" he repeated to himself. "I might as well go home now and get some sleep. Nothing's going to happen tonight. Nothing at..."  He couldn't believe his eyes. Two girls.  Standing by the road.  Two gorgeous girls with fabulous bodies, both dressed in the briefest of two-piece bikinis.  They were both smiling warmly, their gorgeous faces seemingly as bright as the rising sun itself.  He eased off the accelerator and let the car slow down of its own accord.  The closer he came to the beautiful duo, the more he was struck by their awesome appearance.  They had to be models, perhaps lost after wandering off from a night-time photo-shoot.  God, they were stunning!

The taxi ground towards a complete halt as he pulled level with the two beauties.  Jean-Claude stared unashamedly at their bodies; the long, smooth, sculptured legs, the two tiny, shapely waists, the smooth, flat stomachs, the two ultra-generous chests that pushed against the girls' bikini tops - all that and their angelic faces.   He wondered what they were doing out here, apparently alone, at dawn.  Maybe they needed a ride. He certainly hoped so.  He wound down the electric window and, summoning every gram of charm in him, enquired: "Need a ride, ladies?"

He was delighted when the shorter of the two girls, a brunette, smiled in response and said simply, "Yes."

"Climb in!" Jean-Claude invited.  The two girls looked at each other. They seemed to be hesitating.  "It's alright, I won't bite!" he joked, but still the teenagers did not move.  After a brief pause, the taller girl said something in a foreign language that he didn't recognise.  The other one replied with a monosyllable.  So, they weren't locals.  That fit in with his "lost models" theory.   Although the dark-haired one seemed to speak perfect French.  Maybe only the other one was the foreigner and her friend was acting as interpreter.  He wished he could understand what they were discussing.  He wondered why they weren't getting in the cab if they indeed wanted a ride.

Finally, the taller one turned her head towards him and spoke.  "How do we enter your vehicle?"  To his surprise, her command of his language was also perfect.  She even had a local accent.  So the other language was purely a way of hiding their discussion from him.  The girl's question only sunk in once he had realised all that.  What was she asking?  Didn't she know how to open a car door?  Or was it a ploy to make him get out and hold the door open for her like a chauffeur?  He stretched his arm behind his seat and felt for the latch to open the rear side door.  As he did so, the taller girl spoke in the strange language once again, and her friend laughed.  He wished he was in on the joke.



"If he hadn't released that door mechanism, I would have ripped the entire side off his vehicle!" Tara had said.  With the door now unlocked,, she pulled it fully open, using the utmost care, aware that everything on Earth was incredibly fragile.   Then with a fluid grace she climbed in, sliding along the seat to allow room for Lyda to join her.   Once both girls were seated, Lyda reached for the door to close it.

"Careful!" said Tara in their language.  "We don't want to destroy this thing for a while yet."

"Don't worry.  I'll be delicate."  And in that spirit, the brunette used only her little finger to pull as gently as she could.  The door flew shut, slamming noisily and making the entire vehicle shake for a moment.

"Easy, there!" said the Earther seated in front of them.  The girls exchanged mischievous, knowing glances and giggled.  "Where to?" he asked.

"Oh shit." Lyda muttered to Tara in their tongue.  "I hadn't thought of that.  What are we going to say?"

"Don't worry.  You forget I've studied a bit of Earth culture." reassured the lighter-haired girl.  Then, switching languages to address the Earther, she said "We want to go to the railway station."

"Which one?" the Earther enquired.

"Er.. the nearest one." said Tara.

"No problem!  Are you catching a train?" he asked, turning a small control that caused the vehicle's engine to fire up.  Both girls were amazed by the noise and vibration it caused.

"Um... yes." replied Tara.  Then she turned to her friend and added, in their language, "Can you believe this primitive technology?  All that sound just to make this little vehicle move along at its pathetic pace!" Lyda laughed in agreement.

Their companion was clearly uncomfortable with them talking in a tongue he couldn't understand.  "Where are you trying to get to?" he asked.

"We want to get home." Lyda told him.

"And where's that?"

"You wouldn't know it."

"Oh, I see.  It's like that."  The Earther seemed a little upset.  He adjusted a large control lever and the vehicle began to move forward.  Despite having seen a number of these Earther devices in action, this was the first time the girls had actually been inside one.  Both Tara and Lyda were amazed by how slowly it travelled, despite the frantic noises of its motor.



There were only a couple of other cars out on the highway so early in the morning.   Jean-Claude pressed the accelerator under his foot, taking advantage of the empty road.  It wasn't often that he was able to push the speedometer up to one-thirty k.p.h. - the fastest speed allowed by law - and he was delighted to be able to do so.  The trees lining the side of the road shot past in a blur.  He glanced in his rear-view mirror at his two passengers.  They were certainly extraordinarily beautiful, if a little underdressed.  Not that he minded.   But there was something strange about them.  Why did they keep talking to each other in another language when they both spoke flawless French?  What was that business with the door earlier?  And why couldn't they tell him where their home was?  "Still," he thought, looking down at the dial in front of him, "at least they can't complain about me driving to slow."

Just then, the shorter of the two girls spoke up.  "This is boring.  Can't we go a bit faster?"

"Faster?" Jean-Claude spluttered in disbelief.  "I'm doing a hundred and thirty-five!"

"So you can't go any quicker then?" the brunette pouted.  He caught sight of her in the mirror.  So beautiful....  "Well," she continued, "I'll just have to find some other way to amuse myself then." she said, mysteriously.  He wondered what she meant.  He kept flicking his eyes between the road in front and the reflected face in the mirror but he couldn't read anything from her lovely features.

Suddenly, there was a loud half-squeal-half-crunch sound low down behind him, as if some part of the chassis of his car had broken.   "What the fuck was that?" he wondered out loud.

"I didn't notice anything." the taller girl said innocently.  But it was strange.  The car was still handling fine, but the noise of the engine seemed a little louder suddenly.  He drove on for another few moments.  Without warning, the car began to shudder slightly.  A series of loud bangs resonated from that same spot, low and behind him, as though he were driving over loose rocks that were pinging off the bottom of the taxi.  But the road was smooth.   Something was clearly very wrong.  He took his foot off the accelerator so that the vehicle could coast to a natural stop.   Instead, the car decelerated sharply, as if he had slammed on both brakes at once.  His seatbelt saved him from being thrown through the windshield as the car came to a sudden, dramatic stop.

"What the fuck?" he muttered.  Then, once he had recovered his composure a little, he turned to his passengers and asked "Are you OK?".

"We're fine." the shorter one answered with a smile.  But something wasn't right.  They weren't belted in.  Jean-Claude was confused.  Why hadn't they been flung forwards by the sudden stop?  And what the hell was up with his car?  He craned his neck to look over his shoulder towards the spot where the strange sounds had come from.  His eyes slowly followed the dark-haired girl's lovely, exposed, long leg downwards, past her knee until... Until...  The blood drained from his face in an instant.  His mouth hung open and he began to tremble.  "Wha...?  Wha...?" was all he could manage to say.

"Is something wrong?" the owner of the leg enquired, casually.



One of the things Lyda loved most about Earth was the shocked look on Earthers' faces whenever they saw the amazing things she and Tara could do.  This particular creature's expression was a wonderful example of that.  And she hadn't even started showing off yet!  True, she had damaged the vehicle a little, but that shouldn't have been such a shock as the thing was so flimsy.  But obviously it was a huge shock.  That was why Earth was so great.

All she had done was to experimentally press the sole of her bare foot on the floor of the vehicle.  She hadn't stamped down, she'd just gently pushed against the metal.  Her petite naked foot had torn through the metal without her feeling any noticeable resistance.  Intrigued, she had noticed that there was now nothing between her sole and the road beneath, so she had just lowered her heel a little until it was touching the surface.  She had loved the way her dainty heel carved into the material of the road, cutting out a neat channel as the vehicle pulled her along the road.  Of course she felt no pain, either from the chunks of loose surface that her foot tore away, or from the friction that warmed the point of contact until smoke rose between her toes.

With her amazing visual abilities, she could see the little chips of stone that flew upwards causing damage to the underside of the vehicle, but those that struck her foot and ankle bounced harmlessly away.  So she amused herself for a while, making this groove in the road.  But then, the Earther controlling the vehicle had somehow disengaged the motor from the wheels so it started to decelerate.  She decided to press her foot down harder.  The channel she was carving deepened, but the friction was soon too great and with her little foot acting as an anchor, the thing came to a fairly abrupt halt.  Not abrupt enough to disturb herself or Tara, but enough to bounce the Earther in front against the restraining strap he was wearing.  That was when he had turned around and had seen what she had done, resulting in the wonderful look of disbelief he now wore.

"How... how... did...." he was trying to ask.

"Let me show you." Tara said, enthusiastically, pushing her own delicate-looking bare foot through the bottom of the vehicle, just as Lyda had done.  The Earther gasped.  "You see, there's nothing to it, really."

"Nothing at all," Lyda concurred as she casually made a third hole by thrusting her second foot through the yielding steel.  A moment later, Tara followed suit so that four pretty feminine feet now touched the road.   The Earther began to stammer once more, his eyes threatening to bulge out of his head.  Both girls giggled.  The Earther reached down by his side and pressed a button that released his restraining strap.  Then he stretched towards the mechanism that opened the door beside him.

"Oh, don't go!" Tara said, her voice dripping with mock pleading.  As she spoke, she leant forward and laid her hand carefully across his right shoulder, her fingers curling ever so slightly to grip him gently.   He began to grunt and strain as if trying to pull away from her, although she couldn't really tell if he was fighting against her grasp, or merely making noises.



Jean-Claude was terrified.  Now, he had seen with his own eyes the two girls puncturing the chassis of his taxi with nothing but there lovely unprotected feet!  Instinct told him to get the hell out of there but when he tried to, the taller girl had taken hold of him by the shoulder.  To his increased amazement and fear, he found that no matter how hard he pulled against her casual-looking, one-handed grip, her slender fingers remained immobile.   It wasn't possible that a girl so slim could be strong enough to hold a fully-grown, fit man in place with just one hand.  And yet.... And yet she was doing just that.  He fought with every gram of strength in his body, but it was in vain.  She was just too powerful.  He could not leave the car unless she let him.

But, how desperately he did want to leave!  After these two had kicked through steel as though it was paper he dreaded to think what else they might be capable of.  He wasn't even worried about the damage to his car now.  He was just frightened.  "Let me go!" he hissed through clenched teeth.  When that failed to change the situation, he brought his left hand up across his body.   First, he tried to prise the taller girl's fingers off his shoulder and found that he couldn't move a single digit even a millimetre.   Desperate now, he pounded her hand with his fist.  She didn't react, so he pounded harder.  He could feel his hand bruising painfully, but the girl seemed completely unaffected by his struggles.  With tears forming in his eyes, he gave up, letting his hands fall by his sides, panting as he recovered his breath.

"That's right," smiled the darker-haired girl.  "You just relax.  Let me do the work."

"Work?" thought Jean-Claude, "What work?  What the fuck is happening?"



Lyda was curious.  She'd had an idea but she wasn't sure it would work.  It wasn't a question of her own abilities - she had no doubt whatsoever that she was more than capable of the task she had in mind.  But she was unsure whether the vehicle would be up for it.  She realised that there was only one way to find out.  With her feet resting on the surface of the road, she lifted one of her soles whilst leaning forward and pushing off her other foot.  The vehicle groaned and lurched forward a little.  Thus encouraged, she repeated the process, lifting one foot as she pushed on the other.  Now that it had some momentum, the vehicle moved much more easily.  Soon Lyda was "walking" the thing forward,  whilst she sat relaxed on the back seat.

It was quite fun.  She increased the speed of her "walk", still at a casual, effortless pace for her.  The Earther in front began muttering something like "No... Slow down... Please... No... Too fast...."  Lyda glanced at the passing landscape to her side.  They definitely were not going too fast.  It seemed to her that they were going no faster than when the noisy engine was propelling them.  The only difference was that her legs were silent and, she smiled to herself, a lot nicer to look at.   She sped up their movement a little and the Earther's protests became frantic.  He started struggling against Tara's hold once more, but she held him easily in place.  "Oh, calm down!" Lyda rebuked him.

Just to see his reaction, she turned her "walk" into a "trot", making the vehicle roll almost twice as fast on its wheels.   He began to squeal and both girls laughed.  "If you think that's fast," teased Lyda, "then you're in for a real surprise!"  And she started to move her feet at running speed.  She wasn't exerting herself, just comfortably "jogging".

"Oh, shit!  Please!  No!  You'll kill us all!" the Earther was really crying now.

"Baby!" sneered Tara.



They starting moving forward.   He could cope with that.   He knew the engine was off.  He could see that the car was being driven forward by the shorter girl's feet.  It was like there were in some kind of man-powered cart.   Only of course, "girl-powered" would have been a more accurate description.  He saw the speedometer in front of him.  It read thirty k.p.h.   Thirty!  She was pushing a car with three people in it at thirty kilometres per hour with just her feet!  And now they were going faster.  Forty... Fifty... Sixty... He glanced around at the girl's face.  No effort showed there.   This was easy for her!  It was like... like the funny car in that American cartoon with the stone-age family.  But this wasn't funny.

He started to plead with the girl to slow down, but his words had the opposite effect.  The trees on either side were streaking past now.  He glanced at the speedo.  One hundred!  And ten... And twenty...  They were going to break the speed limit!  And what if they crashed?  At this speed, they'd all die instantly.  His terror reached new levels.  He could feel his heart pounding.  Now the dark-haired girl was speaking of going faster!  He begged her not to, but the only response was her friend's derision.   They were going at a hundred and fifty now.  He turned and saw through his teary eyes the girl's beautiful legs now just a blur.   When he turned back the speedometer needle was hard against the limit of the dial.  Two hundred and twenty!   Two fucking hundred and twenty k.p.h.! Was she just going to drive them faster and faster until they all exploded?  And how could these incredible girls remain so calm? Fuck, they were even having a conversation now!



"C'mon Lyda.  Let me have a go!"

"No way, this is too much fun.  Look at the guy - he's shitting himself!"

"Poor little Earther!" chuckled Tara.  And she showed the true extent of her concern by adding "OK, then let's see how he reacts to this."  As she finished speaking, she began to move her feet beneath her, matching Lyda's pace.  The vehicle lurched forward as it accelerated and the Earther responded by screaming.  The girls laughed out loud and quickened the pace of their strides until the entire device began to shudder around them.  The screams died down and the Earther's head slumped forward onto his chest.  Tara kept her hand firmly on his shoulder, holding him in place.  "Well, that's obviously his limit," she observed, "and I don't think the vehicle can stand much more either."

"Pathetic!" judged Lyda.  "Pathetic Earther, pathetic Earther machine."  She was genuinely annoyed.   Everything on this planet ended up falling apart just when she was really beginning to enjoy herself.  She stopped running and let her heels scrape the road surface, breaking off large chunks of it.  Tara did likewise, enjoying the sensation of her feet carving up the specialised material.  Soon, they had brought the vehicle to a controlled stop.  Four long, deep channels of semi-molten, smoking road ended beneath the two girls' bare soles.  "Well, that was fun whilst it lasted." Lyda announced.



When the other girl had started "running" as well, the increased speed was so dramatic that Jean-Claude had actually felt the forces pressing him into his seat.  His scream had started as an involuntary reaction to his assumption that his death would be imminent, but it soon became a cry of pain as the G-forces pounding his body grew beyond tolerable levels.   When he had felt the blackness closing in around him, he welcomed the relief it offered.   He remembered nothing after that.  Now, he felt his mind returning to him once more.  He felt calm, still.   Not ready yet to open his eyes, he wondered if he was already dead.  But then he felt the familiar sensation of the taller girl's fingers on his shoulder, a loose grip that somehow kept him immovably in his seat.

He blinked his eyes.  He was still in the car.  The landscape was immobile.  They had stopped moving at least.  Incredibly, he could see the outlying buildings of the town he had been driving towards on the horizon.   How far had they travelled in....- he looked at the clock on his dashboard - ... fifteen minutes?!   It wasn't possible.   But, he knew it had happened.   At least he was still alive.  Then he saw the image of his two beautiful teenaged tormentors in the rear-view mirror.   It wasn't over yet.

"Oh," said the taller girl, "I see you're back with us!"

"What... what do you want from me?"  he croaked.  What he really wanted to ask was "Can I go now please?"

"You're supposed to be taking us for a ride," the shorter one said.  "Instead, we end up doing all the work and all you do is complain.  Well, I'm bored with your vehicle now."  So saying, she stood up.  She didn't try and open the door beside her or climb out of the taxi.  She just stood where she was.  Her head with its stunning crown of  long, straight black hair carved through the roof of his car even more effortlessly that her feet had punctured the floor.  The metal squealed as her pretty skull tore it apart, but her movement was fluid and unhindered.  Her exposed smooth round shoulders soon followed, noisily widening the hole she'd made.  Even the exposed upper portion of her fabulous breasts tore through the steel roof as though it were actually made of flimsy wet cardboard.  Jagged bits of metal surrounded her on all sides yet there was not a single mark anywhere on her perfect creamy skin.

Jean-Claude watched in amazement as the girl lifted her foot from the hole in the floor of his taxi and took a step to the side, her beautiful leg just carving through the side panel of the vehicle as though it was the most natural thing in the world.   Her body followed the leg, her chest and stomach smashing through the chassis and the panel.  The window shattered as she passed through where it had been, the girl calmly walking through his car as if it wasn't there, metal yielding to her body wherever the two met until she was standing on the road next to the mangled remains of the rear left side of the taxi.

"What the f-" he started to say, just as the other girl took her hand from his shoulder and also stood up.  Being taller than her friend, her entire chest ploughed through the roof as she got to her feet.  She didn't even blink as her beautiful form bent, pushed and tore through steel.  One stride of her long legs and she, too, was free of what was left of the vehicle.   Suddenly, he was alone in the mangled wreck.  Reaching for the door release by his side, he gave it a tug and found it jammed.  The frame of the car had been so badly bent by the two petite female forms that his door was inoperable.  He leant across the front passenger seat and tried that door, but it too was stuck, so he began the awkward process of trying to climb into the back.



"Look!" laughed Tara in the Earther's language so that he would know she was mocking him.  "He's stuck in there."

"Poor little thing." Lyda joined the game.

"Would you like us to help you?" asked Tara.

"No... thank you.... I'm.... O...K..." the Earther panted.   His arm scrapped one of  the torn edges of side panel.  Whereas Tara and Lyda's limbs had brushed aside the metal in their way, the Earther's skin was immediately punctured.   Blood began to flow from a long, deep gash.

"Oh, he's hurt!" cried Lyda, the fake nature of her concern extremely obvious.

"Please... I'm... fine...." his voice was nearly a whisper now, but he had almost made it clear of the wreckage of his vehicle.  Neither girl made any effort to come to his aid as he picked his way clumsily and painfully out on to the road.   He clutched his wounded arm with his other hand, the blood running through his fingers as he tried to hold the tear in his flesh closed.

"Ahhh, he really is quite badly injured." Tara continued with her teasing.

"I'm... alright..."

"And he's being so brave about it too!" added Lyda, laying on the mockery.

"Please... I'll... be.... fine.... I.... just.... need....-"

"Listen to him!" Tara exclaimed, without bothering to wait and find out what he was trying to say.   "What a sweet little man!"



Jean-Claude definitely didn't like what was now happening.   The two girls - or superbeings or robots or goddesses or aliens or whatever they were - were no longer talking to each other in their own, bizarre language.  Now they were using their perfect French, obviously so that he could understand them.   And although their words seemed to show concern for him, he could tell beyond any doubt from the tone of their voices that they were merely mocking him.   Laughing at him, at his inability to tear metal, and at the vulnerability of his skin to sharp objects.

No matter how much he insisted he was alright, they continued to tease him.   Why wouldn't they leave him alone?  He tried to take a step away from them and discovered that he had pulled a muscle clambering out of the taxi.  He winced in pain, his stride marked by a severe limp.   Even before it happened, he knew the two girls would remark on it.

"Oh dear!" the shorter one taunted.  "His leg's been hurt too!"

"No!" he shouted, "No!  It's OK!  Please!  Leave me alone!"  he took another awkward, agonising step away from them.  To his dismay, the girls matched it with an easy, graceful stride towards him.

"Typical man!" said the lighter-haired beauty.  "So stubborn.  Pretending that everything's fine when clearly it's not.  You poor thing, I know you're proud, but it's OK to ask a girl for help."

"I... don't... need...help!" he yelled, moving back another pace.  Immediately, the young women came forward two paces, closing the gap between them dramatically.

"Oh, I think you do need help."  the shorter girl announced.  "Look, you're bleeding and you can't even walk properly!"

"No!  Leave me alone!" he pleaded as the terrifying duo moved another step closer.

"You know," said the dark-haired one, "I feel really terrible about all this."

"Why's that?" asked her friend, innocently.

"Well, I feel as though we're perhaps kind of responsible for what's happened to this poor guy."

"Hmm... you might have a point there."

"And just look at his vehicle." added the dark-haired girl, indicating the remains of his taxi with a sweep of her hand."

"Yes," agreed the other girl, "you're right.  It does look pretty bad." As she spoke, the two girls advanced towards him once more. "We should do something to make him feel better." she suggested.

"No!" begged Jean-Claude "No!   Leave...me...alone!!"



Seeing the terror she and Tara caused the Earther was making Lyda rather excited.  She was beginning to really enjoy the little game they were now playing with him.   As she and her friend closed the gap between themselves and the trembling man, she smiled.   "Come on, let me make it all better."  The Earther's protests had now reduced from the verbal to frantic shakings of his head.   He was clearly desperate.  He tried to move backwards away from them, but tripped on his hurt leg and fell over to land on his rear, the fresh pain making him grunt.

Lyda thrilled to see the state both physical and emotional that the Earther had been brought to.  She was really enjoying herself now.  She bent over him, slowly, making sure that he got a good view of her large pendant breasts and the vast, deep cleavage between them.  Then as he struggled in vain to scoot away from her along the dusty ground, she reached for his injured arm with her right hand, closing her fingers around his wrist in an unbreakable, but not quite crushing, grip.  Then she carefully pulled him to his feet, completely ignoring his obvious but useless attempts to pull away from her.

Once he was upright, she maintained her hold on his wrist whilst her other hand effortlessly removed his good hand from its station over his wound.  Blood spurted from the cut as she placed her own palm over it.  He squirmed with discomfort as she smiled broadly.  "You see," she spoke gently, "you do need help.   Let me rub this better."   She began to move her hand up and down the length of the gash in his arm, at first stroking him gently, but slowly increasing the pressure until he started to wince.  He brought his free hand back and placed it on hers, trying to remove it from his arm, but his efforts were wasted.  Her hand went where she wanted it to and he could do nothing about it.

After a while she stopped stroking him and let her slender fingers curl around his arm.  She squeezed him, gently to begin with - just enough to make him bruise instantly and force yet another scream from his lungs.  Then she tightened her grip making him yell even louder.  Almost loud enough, in fact, to drown out the sound of the bones in his forearm crunching one by one.  She smiled down at him as he screamed, continuing to methodically crush his arm in her little hand until she was satisfied that not a single bone remained intact and released him.  He continued to shout for a few more moments while she admired the sight of his rapidly blackening forearm as it hung limply from his elbow.

As soon as the Earther's yells died down again she spoke.  "Oh!  Just look at your arm!  Did I do that?""  She was trying to feign surprise, but the mocking tone of her voice destroyed any illusion that she hadn't meant to hurt him so badly.

"Oh, you're so careless!" Tara joined the game again, speaking - of course - in the Earther language.



Jean-Claude knew that the shorter girl had deliberately crushed his arm with her phenomenal strength.   He knew that the two girls were now just using him for their sport, causing him terrible pain purely for their amusement.   He knew too that he was powerless to stop them.  He stood and wept silently as the one who had hurt his arm moved in closer still to him, so that her stunningly beautiful face was barely twenty centimetres from his own.  The large nipples of her glorious chest tented the fabric of her bikini, and almost brushed against his shirt.   He felt a stirring in his loins for her despite his terror and his agony.

"I'm so sorry about your arm," she said, speaking softly and directly into his face.  Her breath was hot, almost scorching, as she talked.  It washed over him, filling his senses, overpowering him with its wonderful scent.   "It must really hurt."

He wanted to respond, but could think of nothing to say.  The girl leant in closer still, so that her chest touched his, the incredible firmness of her two big, round mounds sending a jolt of pure lust through his battered body.   With her mouth so near his that he was inhaling nothing but her hot, erotic breath, she whispered "Would you like me to kiss you better?"

He fought to reply.   He knew she was planning to cause him fresh agonies.   Part of him wanted to scream "No!  Get away from me!".  But another part of him - centred in his now fully aroused, throbbing erection - desperately wanted to feel her wonderful full lips against his own.  Her beauty, her perfection, her very breath was conquering him, even as he feared for his life.  In the end, he could answer neither "yes" nor "no" to her question.  He knew that it would not have mattered whatever he had said.

She bent her head into his, turning it so that their noses did not meet.  Slowly, very slowly, she pushed out her thick red lips and touched them against his mouth.  Her two hands made their way to the sides of his head, her palms pressing gently against his cheeks, holding his skull in place.  He barely noticed as the contact between their mouths fired his passion to new levels.  Gradually, she pushed her lips against his.  He became aware of a new sensation, a building, fresh pain, this time in his mouth.

He wanted to yell again, but her mouth sealed his completely.  He tried to push her away with his good hand, but could not move her no matter how hard he tried.  The agony of his lips grew.  He could taste blood.  She was crushing his lips against his jaws using nothing but her own sexy, fleshy lips.  Suddenly her tongue flicked out.  He felt the tip of it pressing against his front teeth for a moment.  Then new pain, more blood and the sensation of her tongue deep inside his mouth.

Had she really just knocked out his teeth with her tongue?  A moment later he felt her tongue pushing at his back teeth and knew it was true.  He tried to push her out with his own tongue, but found that he was powerless.  Her tongue merely pushed his out of the way as it explored his mouth at her will, systematically uprooting his teeth from his gums until she had ripped out every single one.  His mouth was full of blood when she finally broke off the "kiss".  It flowed in a red stream down his chin, broken teeth dribbling out with it.



Lyda took a moment to admire the mess she had made of the Earther's face.  It thrilled her to see how severely she had wounded a man by doing nothing more than passionately kissing him.  She smiled as she reached for him with a single hand, delicately cupping his bloody chin as she lifted it slightly. "Oh dear!" she said, insincerely.  "I seem to have hurt you again, this time with my lips and tongue."

"You really should be more careful." Tara chipped in.  "Why don't you give him a nice hug to make him feel better?"

"That's a lovely idea." agreed Lyda.  "Although I'd better take care not to crush his big, strong body."  as she was saying this, she released the Earther's chin and reached out, placing her long, slender arms behind his back.

The man was quite a bit taller than the dark-haired supergirl and she rested her head against his neck as she pulled his large frame effortlessly towards her own far smaller body.  He made only low moaning sounds as she held him in the embrace, enjoying the feeling of her large breasts pressing against the lower portion of his strong masculine chest, revelling in the knowledge that her soft, feminine mounds were a million times tougher than his hard male body.

Lyda could feel the Earther responding to her beauty; his organ pressing into her abdomen even as his face bled.  She held him tightly, squeezing the air from his lungs so he could no longer even groan in his discomfort.  Her chest yielded very very slightly at first, her large mounds flattening almost imperceptively against him - just enough to excite her and to make his shaft begin to throb slightly against her flat stomach.  "There," she breathed, looking up into his battered face, "isn't that better."  Adding a tiny amount of extra strength to the hug, she could feel his ribs beginning to bend slightly, the calcium of his bones no match for her unworldly breasts.

The pulsating of his erection increased in intensity as she held him against her perfect body, his skeleton on the point of collapse as she asked "I'm not holding you too tight, am I?"  Of course, he made no reply.  With no air in his lungs, he was simply unable to make a sound.  She squeezed him a little more, smiling broadly as she heard a couple of his ribs snapping, unable to withstand the pressure exerted by her lovely chest.

"Oh," said Lyda, "did I hear some of your bones breaking?   I am hurting you again?   Is it my breasts?  Are they too firm for you?  You poor man!  It must be really painful.  Especially when I do this." And she tightened her hold on him slowly, listening to the pops as his remaining ribs gave way one by one.  With no voice, the Earther could only express his agony through his eyes.  Catching sight of the terror in them, the petite supergirl smiled.  She moved her body a little from side to side, all the while pressing herself hard against him, feeling his body yielding to her own, luxuriating in the sensation of her mounds pulverising his chest.

He began to shudder, her sexy breasts tipping him over the edge into an orgasm, despite his terrible injuries and his abject fear.  "You like that, don't you?" she asked, pulling him even tighter against herself so that his face began to turn purple.  "Aren't my breasts wonderful?  Would you like me to press you to them properly?"  There was no point awaiting an answer.  She clasped him to her even more firmly, feeling muscle and more bone giving way to her.  "Oh!" she said "I seem to be squeezing you too tightly against my chest.  All your bones are crumbling."

Lyda tightened her hold still further on the dying Earther.  She did it slowly, so that she could hear the sound of each bone and each muscle disintegrating, smiling all the while.  "Is this too much for you?" she enquired, the grin fixed on her face.  "Am I killing you?  Crushing you to death with my wonderful breasts?  Oh, I'm so clumsy!" But when she looked at the Earther's face she realised that he was no longer hearing her.  He was no longer hearing anything.  His eyes were dull.  His breathing and his heartbeat had stopped.  She had squeezed the very life from him, merely by hugging him against her generous chest.

"Well, that was fun!" she announced to Tara as she took her arms away from the lifeless body and let it collapse in a heap at her pretty bare feet.  She didn't admit it to her friend, but taking her time to destroy a man using only her beautiful body had given her an enormous sexual thrill.  She'd never known a turn-on like it.

"Fun for you, anyway.  I never got a look in." complained Tara.

"Oh, don't worry, there's plenty more Earthers for you too."

"Where?  I don't see any."



The patrol car made its way slowly along the seafront highway.  Both front windows were completely open and a uniformed elbow rested on each.  It was a beautiful morning and the two officers in the car were taking a relaxed attitude to their work.

"Look at that.  Not a car on the road!" observed the driver.

"Yeah.  I like it peaceful." his colleague chipped in.

"That's your problem, Marcel.  You just don't like work"

"Aw, that's not fair.   When was the last time you heard me complaining about having to do work?"

"The last time?  How about five this morning when we left the station."

"Come on, Giles!  That wasn't complaining.  That was just expressing dissatisfaction."

"Oh, right.  And what exactly is the difference then?"

"Well, complaining is when you - What the hell is that?"

"What the hell is what?  Oh!  That!  What the hell is it?"

"I asked first."

They pulled over to the side of the road and climbed out.  The surface of the road had been broken by something.

"Jesus!" said Gilles.  "Look, it goes all the way up the road!"

"What the hell could have caused that?"

"Beats me,  It looks like someone's driven along with a working pneumatic drill attached to the back of their vehicle."

"But a pneumatic drill wouldn't make such a even groove."

"Yeah.  So how was it done?  What's tough enough and capable of exerting that kind of pressure?"

"Nothing I know of.  But then I'm just a cop."

"A lazy cop."

"Yeah, yeah.  We'd better radio this in.  They're going to have to resurface this whole stretch before there's an accident."

"That's going to cost a few million francs.  So much for this year's rise."

"Now you're complaining!"

"Just get in the car, will you.  We'd better follow this channel and see where it leads.  Maybe whoever did it is parked at the end of the trail."

"So, you're a detective now, too?"

"Very funny."

The two policemen returned to their vehicle.  Twenty seconds later, they were playing "follow that groove in the road."



"So what are we going to do now, eh?  We can't go home."

"Then we'll just stay here, Tara."

"And do what?"

"Have fun!  Y'know, showing the Earthers how pathetic they are."

"Lyda, I'm beginning to think you might be getting a little bit too into this.   I mean, I saw your face when you were crushing that last guy..."


"That's what I mean.  You were getting off on it, weren't you?"

"Who?  Me?"

"Stop pretending, girl."

"Oh, so its a crime now, is it?"

"So you admit it!."

"Listen, we are goddesses here.  We're so strong, so powerful.   And if I get a bit turned on by destroying a big man with my tits, well, you can't blame me for it."

"So you do admit it!"

"Yeah I admit it.  Having unlimited power and using it on men turns me on.  Tell me it's not the same for you.  I've seen you crushing Earthers.  You looked like you were enjoying it..."

"Enjoying, sure.  It's fun being so much stronger..."

"And invulnerable!  So you know that there's absolutely nothing they can do to you.  Nothing!  C'mon, Tara, doesn't that get you going - I mean, just a bit?"

"I.... um... well..."

"That's not an answer, Tara.  I'll tell you what.  The next Earther we find is yours.  You can do whatever you want and I won't interfere.  Let your imagination run riot.  Do all the things you've ever thought about..  And then you can tell me if being a supreme being is a turn-on or not."

"Well, I suppose...." said Tara

"Listen!" Lyda interrupted.  Both girls fell silent for a moment.  "It's another of those silly vehicles and it's heading this way." the shorter of the two girls observed.  "I'll just stand over there -" she pointed to the side of the road, "- and leave it to you.  Go on!  Enjoy yourself!"

"OK, OK.  But only to shut you up."




"Christ, Marcel, it goes on for kilometres!"

"Wait, what's that up there?"

"Looks like the end of the line.  The groove gets deeper for about twenty meters and then just stops there."

"It looks like the scar left by a crashing comet!"

"How do you know what a comet-scar looks like?"

"I saw this programme on TV where these two experts-"

"-OK, OK.  But the trajectory rules out a comet anyway."

The men stopped their car and examined the gouge in the road.   "Weird!" was Marcel's verdict.

"If you think that's weird, you should check this out!" Gilles called from down the road.

"What is it?"



"That's what they look like to me."

"That's what they are.  Bare foot prints.  Female I'd say."

"How'd they get into the road?  Look!  They're slightly embedded in the tarmac!  How the fuck?"

"Was this road recently resurfaced?"

"We came by here yesterday.  You know it wasn't."

"Fuck!  So how....?"

"I suppose if the foot was hot - I mean really, really hot then...."

"So we're looking for someone without shoes whose skin is a couple of hundred degrees."

"Shouldn't be too hard to find."

"Listen man, joking aside, something fucking strange is going on here."

"You're telling me!"

"So what do we do?"

"Radio it in and then follow the prints."



"Why's it taking them so long to get here?"

"Because they're Earthers."  Both girls laughed.  When they had recovered themselves, Tara asked "Do you think I should get rid of this mess before they come?" With a sweep of her hand she indicated the wreckage of the vehicle and the bloody corpse of its driver.

"Up to you, Tara.  It's your show."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Just watch." Lyda answered.  Then after a pause, she said "Listen!  They're almost here."



"Now look!  There's two pairs of prints now!  Where did the second pair come from?  Looks like they just materialised!"

"Gilles, don't ask me why, but I've got a bad feeling about all this.  Maybe we should call for some back-up before we go any further."

"Backup?  To look at footprints?  C'mon, man!"

"Yeah, I guess I'm just being stupid.  But I've got this feeling in my gut."

"That'll be the three croissants you scoffed back at the station."

"Very funny."

The men drove on in silence for a few minutes, following the bizarre trail of prints that seemed to have been burnt into the road.

"Whoever it was, they walked a long way!" observed Marcel.

"Yeah.  How far back did we spot the first print?"

"About twenty-five k.m."


"So we're looking for two barefoot guys with hot skin who like long hikes."

"Not quite.  Two barefoot chicks.  No way could those prints have been left by men."

"This has got to be some kind of bizarre prank."


"Hey! What's that up there on the road?"

"Don't know.  Looks like a car-wreck."

"And is that someone there with it?"

"Can't see from this distance."

"How did you pass your last medical?"

"Oh, the doc is a friend of my cousin's wife."

"You little cheat!  Do you think he'd help me out next year?"

"If I ask him nicely, I'm... Hey!  You're right!  There is someone there."

"I'm always right."

"Cocky bastard!"   Marcel sped up the car, bringing it to a halt about twenty meters short of the vehicle wreck.  As he got out the car, his policeman's mind was working furiously, noting details.  The destroyed vehicle was a taxi.  There was one - make that two - young females present on the scene.   Beautiful females.  Gorgeous, sexy, young females.  Dressed for the beach.  Two girls he'd love to take down to the beach one Sunday.  He'd get out the suntan oil and start rubbing it into....

"Concentrate, Marcel!" he told himself.   Two females on the scene.  Any more details?  The strange footprints gave way to four grooves identical to the one they had spotted earlier.  Had those grooves been made by someone's feet?!!?  Come to think of it, the two girls were barefoot.... The hairs on the back of his head stood up.   The uneasy feeling in his gut grew and grew.  Something was definitely not right here.  Something was...

What was that?  He took a step to look.  A corpse!   Christ, what the hell had happened to this guy?  The lower half of his face had been mashed and the upper half of his torso appeared to have been partially crushed.  He must've been in the taxi when the collision happened.  Probably the driver, he conjectured.  But how had he come to be here, fifteen meters from the wreck?   The questions kept on coming.  What had happened to the taxi? The back portion of it was almost totally destroyed but the front was practically untouched.  Where was the other vehicle?  Looking at the taxi, whatever had crashed into it must've suffered pretty severe damage too.  And what were the two girls doing here?  They couldn't have been in the back of the taxi when it crashed.  Did they have something to do with the other vehicle?

Marcel turned to the taller girl who was standing nearest the wreck.  "Are you alright, miss?" he asked.

"I'm fine, thank you." she answered with a smile.  And what a smile.  Perfect, straight white teeth, lovely lips....  But, she seemed far too cheerful given her surroundings.

"Miss, do you know what happened here?"


"Is there anyone else hurt apart from the dead man?"


"Are you sure?"


"What about the other car?"

"Other car?"

"The one that crashed into this one."

"There wasn't another car."  Marcel stopped a moment.  His bad feeling was getting worse.  He went back to the car were Gilles was waiting with the radio and passed on the information the girl had given him so that Gilles could call for the appropriate emergency services.  Then he went back to the girl he'd been talking to.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you a few more questions." he said.



Tara smiled coquettishly at the Earther.  "What would you like to know?" she asked, her sensitive hearing detecting the increase in his heart-rate every time she smiled at him.

"Well, if you don't mind I'd like you to tell me everything you know about what happened here."

"OK.  Well, it was my friend really." she said, nodding in Lyda's direction.  Her friend stood motionless and expressionless by the road.  "She kinda got a bit bored so she smashed up the vehicle."

"Your... your friend?" The Earther looked astonished.  "What do you mean she smashed up the vehicle?  Did she drive into the back of it?"

"Oh, no.   She just smashed it up."

"How did she smash it up."

"Oh, you know.  With her hands and legs and stuff."

"I'm not with you miss.  Did your friend use some kind of machine to do this damage?"


"So how did she do it?"

"I already told you.  With her hands and stuff.  This is getting boring."

"It may be boring for you miss, but a man has died here and I want to know how."

"Oh, I can tell you that.  My friend killed him.  After she smashed up the car."



An alarm was ringing in Marcel's guts now.  He knew something freaky was happening and it was beginning to scare him.  "Look, miss." he began, "you can tell me here and now, or you can tell me down at the station.  Up to you.  But one way or another you will tell me."

"I've already told you!  My friend got bored so she smashed up the car and killed the driver."

Marcel sighed loudly.  He turned to the second girl who was about twenty meters away and called out "Miss, could you come over here for a moment, please."

"No." she answered.  He was not used to such insubordination.

"Come over here please, now, miss."


He reached into his back pocket and extracted his handcuffs.  "Do I have to place you under arrest?  Come over here, please."

"No.  I promised my friend she could have you all to herself."

Marcel was angry now.  These two girls and their stupid games were really wearing his patience thin.  He stuffed the handcuffs back into his trousers and pulled out his gun, pointing it at the uncooperative dark-haired girl.

"I wouldn't bother." said the first girl.  "Those things don't work on us."

"Don't make me prove you wrong" Marcel said through gritted teeth.   Back in the car, Gilles was radioing for another patrol.  The situation looked to be deteriorating rapidly and with the ambulance on its way, they could probably do with a few extra hands to keep order.



Tara heard the second Earther speaking on his primitive communicator asking someone to send another vehicle.  She wondered how long it would take the pathetic creatures to arrive.  She turned back to the Earther brandishing his weapon at Lyda.  "So, do you want me to tell you what happened to the dead man or not?"

"No." replied the Earther.  "You already gave me your crazy story.  Now, I want your friend to tell me the real version."

"Are you calling me a liar?" asked Tara, putting her hands on her hips to show her displeasure.

"Listen, girl!" The Earther sounded thoroughly annoyed.  "A man has died here and I'm a police officer.  Either you co-operate with me or I place you and your friend under arrest."

"You couldn't."

"Yes I damn well can!" the Earther exclaimed.  "Now, lie down on the ground, both of you!"

"No!" the girls responded in unison.

"Consider this your last warning." said the man as he activated his noisy, primitive weapon.  The usual blob of metal emerged from the flash of light at the end of it.  Tara watched it as it floated slowly a comfortable distance over Lyda's head.  Neither of the two young women reacted in any way to the little demonstration and the Earther seemed confused to see the lack of response.



The sound of a gun being fired brought forth an instant reaction from Gilles.  He threw open the door of the patrol car, jumping out himself to crouch behind the relative protection of the open door.  Only then did he glance upwards through the window to see what was happening.

Everyone was still standing.  That was a good start.  He looked from one person to another.  The only one with a gun was his partner.  That was good too.   So Marcel must've fired the shot, presumably as a warning.   Gilles' hand found its way to the holster on his hip, ready to draw his own pistol.  But he held off at the last second.  Marcel seemed to be pretty much in charge of the situation.  When he heard his partner speak a moment later, Gilles was completely reassured.

"Next time I won't miss." Marcel threatened.



"Oh, this game is boring," Tara said to her friend in their language.  "Waiting for these two to go through their stupid rituals with those noise-makers.  I'm going to speed it up a little."

"Hey, it's your show, girl." answered Lyda.



There they went again!  Talking in that weird language.  There was something really unsettling about this pair.  Marcel glanced from one stunning girl to the other.  Now that he had fired a warning shot how was he supposed to increase the pressure on them?  He decided on shooting a bullet into the ground between the dark-haired girl's feet.  That, he felt, ought to scare them both.

He was just about to line up the shot when something in his peripheral vision distracted him.  He turned to see what it was just in time to feel a sudden, burning pain in his right hand.  At the same time, there was a blur of movement in front of him.  The blur lasted only a split-second before it solidified into the form of the taller of the two girls.

Had that smear been her moving incredibly fast?  It wasn't possible!  And what was the pain in his hand?  He looked down and froze in shock.  Two of his fingers were hanging at a ridiculous angle, both clearly broken whilst a huge bruise was beginning to form in his palm.  But what stunned him most was his gun.  It had simply disappeared.  One moment he was holding it, the next his hand was wounded and the firearm was gone.

"What the f…?" he started to say.

"Are you looking for this?" Marcel looked up at the source of the question - the taller girl.  The gun was lying in her delicate hand.  So it was true!  That blur had been her.  His uneasy feeling had proven correct.  There was something incredibly strange happening.  But before he could spend too long wondering about it he had more immediate concerns: the pain in his hand was excruciating.  And his gun was now in the hands of a stranger.



Gilles gasped at the unbelievable scene unfolding in front of him. His vantage point had given him a clear view of the taller girl snatching his partner's gun. Of course, she had moved far too quickly for his eyes to track or his brain too follow, but when he saw her become a streak of colour and re-appear moments later holding the pistol, he had worked out the rest.

He should have made a grab for his own gun at that point, but although his mind issued the command, his body did not obey. It was as though some major part of him was so busy trying to understand what he had just witnessed that there was no remaining energy for movement. With wide eyes betraying incredulity, Gilles remained behind the car door, apparently unable to do anything but watch.

Meanwhile, Marcel stared at the feminine fingers that wrapped around his weapon.  The girl was raising her hand.  He knew that this was bad.  Very bad.  But he was too shocked to move, or to react in any other way.  He just stood and watched as the girl lifted his weapon higher, adjusting her grip so that she was holding it ready for use.  "She's going to shoot me" he thought, yet still he did not act.

Marcel saw her slender wrist bending, saw the barrel of the pistol moving, pointing away from him now.  Transfixed, he stared as she turned the gun until it was aimed directly at her own smooth forehead.  The end of the thing was only a few centimetres from her flawless skin.  "Suicide!" was the word that flashed into his mind as he saw a slim finger curling around the trigger.



Tara had seen enough of these weapons in use to have learnt how to do it for herself.  She knew she had to be careful - extremely careful - not to crush the weak Earther metal in her palm and she manipulated the device as though it was the most fragile object in the universe as she brought it up to her head.  Then, with utmost caution, she operated the little lever that fired the thing.

She was prepared for the ridiculously loud bang that it produced and did not even blink.  Neither did she respond in any way to the searing heat of the miniature explosion as it escaped from the end of the weapon.  And, as for the silly metal pellet that was spat out, she merely let it compress itself almost flat against her invulnerable skull, casually catching it in her free hand as it eventually bounced away, all its energy spent in the futile struggle to leave even the tiniest mark on her.

She held the barely recognizable disc up to the Earther, almost laughing as she saw the amazement in his widening eyes.  To increase the effect, she calmly closed her fingers around the piece of metal, crushing the useless pellet in her grip until the incredible force she was exerting, first melted and then boiled it.  The bubbling liquid metal oozed between her fingers, running down her arm and dripping into the ground.

"I told you these things don't work on us." she said, matter-of-factly.  The Earther merely swallowed hard.  Smiling, she held her opened hand out to him, offering him his weapon.  "Here, you can have it back now."   The man did not move.

"I said you can take it back." Tara insisted, but her offer remained unaccepted.  The creature just continued to stare at the liquid metal now cooling and re-solidifying in her other hand.



Nothing that Gilles had ever experienced in twenty years as a policeman could have prepared him for the sight of the astoundingly beautiful girl in the bikini surviving unharmed after shooting herself in the head from point-blank range. But when that same sexy, slender girl crushed the spent bullet in her hand until it melted, he began to feel as if reality was an increasingly distant concept.

Realising that he was trembling and that his jaw was hanging open he took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself.  When that didn't work, he tried staring at his shoes.   But he found his gaze somehow drawn back to the beautiful girl.   He couldn't explain what it was exactly, but something was making him stare.

He'd seen plenty of great-looking women before, and quite a few ultra sexy bikini-girls on the beach, but this one topped them all.  It wasn't just her exquisite beauty, nor did his attraction end with her fabulous figure, which was so magnificently displayed by her brief outfit.  It was more.  It had to do with the way she was bullet-proof and strong enough to melt lead in her hand.  The more he stared, the more Gilles found himself becoming aroused.



Tara threw a glance at the second Earther, her vision passing through the vehicle he was trying to hide behind.   She noticed the bulge at the top of his lower garment that signified his sexual excitement.  It made her think of sex, and of what Lyda had told her earlier.  Of the thrill of using the incredible abilities they possessed against Earther males.  How being so superior could be such a turn-on.

She turned to her friend for a moment.  This was supposed to be her opportunity to discover whether or not Lyda was right for herself - the other girl had promised to leave these two men to her.   And seeing the effect she had already caused - in one of them at least - made her all the more curious about her own feelings.  Her companion seemed to sense her thoughts, because she gave a reassuring nod as if saying "Go on, enjoy yourself."

A broad grin stretched over Tara's beautiful face as she faced the nearest Earther once more.  Still holding his weapon, she tossed it casually over her shoulder.  By the time it came down, she had grabbed the tall, thick-built man with a single arm around his waist and lifted him off the ground so that his hands and feet were dangling close to her perfect, bare ankles.

He yelled as she picked him up, but she ignored him as she started to carry him towards his friend.  She was delighted at how light he was, and how soft his seemingly muscular male body felt compared to her own.  Looking down at his hopeless form trapped against her slender side, she had to confess to herself that she did feel something more than just powerful.

As she reached the vehicle behind which the other Earther was crouching, Tara was almost excited.  She could easily have stepped around the vehicle to retrieve the hiding man, but she felt as though she wanted to show off her body and what it could do.   So she made her free hand into a fist and drove it into the front of the vehicle, where she knew the primitive engine was located.

Her light punch punctured the metal as if it were wet paper, her hand effortlessly - but noisily - pushing aside the various steel obstacles it met until it was buried up to her forearm in mangled metal.  Then she bent her arm, lifting the entire vehicle into the air, supporting its weight with a single arm as if it were the easiest task in the world. In fact, to her, it was.

A sweep of her forearm dislodged her hand from the inside of the thing and swung the vehicle in a huge arc around her.  When her arm stopped, the machine kept moving, spinning as it soared skyward, propelled by the casual wave of a beautiful girl's forearm.  A considerable period of time passed before it crashed back to Earth.



Marcel had been stunned by the ease with which the girl had picked him off his feet.  He shouted in surprise as he found himself held utterly fast by a smooth, warm, feminine arm.  Then she started to walk with him tucked under her shapely long limb as though he were nothing more that an rolled-up jacket, his body shaking around with every step.  He tried to grab her legs and soon found that even his greatest efforts didn't alter her stride even a millimetre.

What the hell was she?  An alien?  A robot?  But she looked so… human.   Her skin was so soft and yet a bullet couldn't scratch it.  She even smelt good.  He couldn't help but notice her feminine perfection as she carried him towards the car.  But, why wasn't Gilles doing anything?  He couldn't see his partner, but he knew he was hiding behind the open door.  Why didn't he run or shoot or something?

The answer to Marcel's question was that Gilles was frozen in wonder and shock.  He watched the girl picked up Marcel like he was a small packet of groceries and start striding in his direction, but he found himself powerless to do anything but crouch and stare.   She was so beautiful, so powerful… so sexy.  She moved with such grace and certainty.  He was infatuated.

Soon, she was only a few meters away, standing by the car.  Gilles saw her raising her fist above the hood and slam it down.  Incredibly, her little feminine fist passed straight through the bonnet, deep into the engine.  She was strong enough to drive her hand through solid steel without looking like she was exerting herself!

What happened next was even more extraordinary.  The girl used the hold she'd created by punching into the engine to lift the entire car off the road.  Now there was nothing protecting him from her.  She'd removed his shield - the car - as if she were picking a flower. He almost fainted at the sight of a slim young woman dwarfed by a big, heavy car which she was effortlessly holding aloft with one arm whilst a full grown man was tucked under the other.

Then, she just tossed the vehicle away.  Like he would toss an apple core.  But this was several tonnes of machinery which she sent flying with nothing but that slender arm. The force of her unthinking fling had to have been phenomenal!   Yet she was so slim, so curvaceous… and so close.

The girl took a step so that she was standing right next to him, towering over him as he remained crouched.  She reached for him, her lithe, perfect body moving so fluidly.  As she bent at the waist, he looked up to see her large breasts straining against the thin material of her bikini top and did not notice her hand encircling his arm pit until she hoisted him bodily into the air.  Even then, Gilles made no effort to fight her as she manoeuvred his entire frame against her side so that he mirrored Marcel.



Tara grabbed the second Earther and tucked him under her second arm, so that she was carrying a large man on either side of her body.  Once she had them balanced, their weight was insignificant to her and she found she could hold them fast with her arms while she rested her hands comfortably on her shapely hips.  She laughed at the thought of how easy it all was.

One of the men, the first one she had picked up, was still struggling, squirming in the prison she had created between her flank and her arm.  He pounded her legs and tried to bite her ankles until a few of his teeth broke against her flawless skin and a little trickle of blood ran down her bare foot.  Seeing that made Tara even more aware of her complete superiority over the Earthers.

The other male was hanging limply from her hold.   He was making no attempt to fight her and she realised that he had already surrendered to her.  That thought only made her feel more powerful still.  It made no difference if one - or both - resisted.  These two were hers and she could do as she pleased with them. She was beginning to understand that Lyda was right.  It was a big turn-on. A massive turn-on.  Tara looked down at the two Earthers.  She had to decide what she wanted to do with them.



The system was nothing if not efficient.  Gilles' first call had been for a vehicle to pick up a corpse and the message quickly got through to the nearest hospital which was situated less than ten kilometres north-east of the location given by the officer on the scene. His next call - for back-up - was picked up by a squad car patrolling twenty kilometres to the south.

There was a short delay in the hospital whilst the two-man ambulance crew got to their vehicle, but the much faster police car was already manned and on the road.  And so the two vehicles arrived on the spot simultaneously from opposite directions. Both of the men held captive against the taller girl's shapely body heard the approaching engines and suddenly felt hope.  Maybe now that the girl was outnumbered she could be subdued.

Marcel and Gilles had little time to ponder the new situation, however.  The girl spun around on her heels to face the on-rushing ambulance, barely a hundred meters down the road, and closing fast.  As she turned, the two men's arms and legs were thrown through the air by tremendous centrifugal forces.  Only the iron-like hold of her slim arms prevented the pair of heavy males from flying away from her as their bodies flailed about helplessly.

The eight limbs continued moving after she had come to a sharp stop facing the medical emergency vehicle.  One after another, four arms and for legs slammed against her lower body, the collisions hard enough to produce a plethora of bruises and yelps.  Of course, it was only the men suffered the bruises and uttered the yelps.  The girl seemed not to notice.



The moment her sensitive ears detected the two approaching vehicles, Tara had decided to put on a little show for her two new "friends". Choosing the larger of the two primitive transporters - a tall, square, all-white affair, she turned to face it, unaware of the battering her captives received as she executed so effortless a manoeuvre.

Although her hands were on her hips so that she could hold the two males fast between her flanks and her arms, she could think of no better way to greet the new arrival than this defiant, superior pose.  It also meant the men could clearly witness her planned demonstration.  She smiled in anticipation of what she was about to do and waited.  Just a few more moments until the pathetically slow vehicle was a little closer...



When he first spotted someone standing in the road, the ambulance driver thought little of it.   It was quite normal for someone to be flagging him down at the scene of an accident.   A short while later, however, he noticed that whoever it was wasn't waving, but standing with something tucked under their arms.  That was unusual.  In fact, the closer he got, the stranger it all began to appear.

The next thing he realised was that the person was a girl.  Then he saw that she was in a bikini.  Then he noticed that she had a stunning figure. And then he realised that what she was carrying under her arms were a pair of large men in policemen's uniforms.  "What the fu-" he started to say.  He started in disbelief at the incredible scene in front of him.   The girl seemed to be staring directly at him, her lips slightly stretched, as if she were smiling.  That wasn't how people normally looked at the scene of a fatal accident.  Soon enough though, the smile vanished.

She pushing her lips together  It was hard for him to see from that distance but he thought she looked as if she was preparing to kiss someone.  He could also see her leaning forward, bending at her slender waist, offering him an even better view of her incredible chest.  The two men tucked under her arms like rolled-up rugs remained firmly in place.  Above the racket of the engine, he suddenly heard a peculiar sound - like the noise of rushing wind, but far louder.

An instant later something slammed into the front of the vehicle, as if he had driven into an invisible wall.  His foot was still firmly depressing the accelerator, but the van was rapidly slowing.  Its frame began to shake violently.  A few seconds later, the ambulance stopped moving forward altogether.  The wheels were still spinning, but somehow they were unable to get any kind of grip on the road.  With a sudden bang that terrified him, one of his tyres burst, making the whole van lurch towards the front left corner.

"What the hell’s going on?" called the crewman from the back, but the driver was too shocked to reply.  Recovering his composure, he looked through the windshield and saw the girl still standing there in an identical pose, lips pursed.  The typhoon-like noise increased in volume and the ambulance started moving again - backwards.  One after the other, the remaining tyres exploded as friction heated them far beyond what they could tolerate.

"What’s happening?" the crewman enquired again, nervously this time.

"I…I don’t know," answered the driver

"What?  Why are we reversing?"

"I don’t know!"

"You don’t know?!"

The four now-exposed wheel hubs produced showers of sparks as they scraped along the tarmac.  The driver pulled his foot off the pedal, fearing an explosion.  It made little difference.  The vehicle continued to move back away from the accident site, picking up speed all the while.  It was as if he'd driven straight into a incredibly powerful and carefully directed jet of hurricane wind.

But what kind of freak conditions could have caused such a bizarre phenomenon?  He looked up, but saw no swirling dark clouds, no spinning funnel of air tearing across the land.  Only the beautiful semi-naked girl with her mouth open like she was....  like she was blowing!  The ambulance driver's heart skipped a beat.  No!  It wasn't possible!



Tara waited until the vehicle came close enough, leant theatrically towards it, pursed her lips and blew gently at it.  Her unworldly lungs forced vast quantities of warm air through her luscious mouth, the exiting stream so powerful it produce a roaring sound that impressed even her.   She watched with satisfaction as her breath reached the on-rushing transporter and buffeted it with forces equal to those generated by its primitive engine, slowing its progress almost immediately.

Having matched the forward thrust of the big Earther device with noting but a casual exhalation, it was no challenge for Tara to completely overpower it.  She merely blew a little bit harder.  Her reward for this minimal effort was both instant and disproportionate.  The sound of rushing wind rose and the vehicle started to move backwards.  She used her visual powers to study the shocked face of the Earther controlling the vehicle.  This was wonderful!

She knew that the two Earthers she was holding under her arms were witnessing this latest display and that thought made her feel even more powerful.  Wanting to show them something truly dramatic, she put a little more energy into her puff, using her beautiful thick lips to direct the stream of her breath towards the base of the machine.



In his heart, the ambulance driver knew that the girl was making the hurricane, but his brain refused to accept the information.  He stared dumbfounded as he and his vehicle sped away from her, thrown backwards by nothing other than the sheer force of a superhuman young woman's breath.  He felt himself rising from the ground and realised that the on-rushing air was forcing itself underneath the front of the vehicle.

The crewman was trying to make his way into the cab to see for himself what was going on.  It was a difficult enough task at the best of times.  Now, as the van kept shuddering, it was impossible to keep his feet.  He made one last attempt, tripped and slammed his forehead against a metal cabinet.  He was unconscious by the time his body came to rest on the floor.

Meanwhile, a wave of panic swept through the driver.  He could feel the entire ambulance about to leave the road and start flying through the air.  He had to get out.  He fumbled for the seat-belt and released it.  Then he reached for the door.  He was just preparing himself for the terrifying jump he knew he had to make when the van suddenly rose upwards, tilting as it did so that the corner where he sat was further from the road than any other.

He had no time to react to this latest shock as the van started to spin rapidly as it soared off the ground.   Like a dry leaf in a strong autumn storm, the ambulance was tossed about as it rotated ever faster in the air.   Inside, the unsecured driver was repeatedly slammed against the door, the roof and the windshield.  For a few moments he screamed, but when his head struck the steering wheel he fell silent, his unconscious body still bouncing inside the flying vehicle.   In the back, his similarly blacked-out crewman was suffering the same punishment.



Tara loved the way she could so easily overpower the forces of gravity that were holding the Earther device down.  Having forced a cushion of air from her lungs underneath the thing, making it airborne, she used her breath to make it tumble end over end, travelling ever faster, ever further from her until she saw that the males inside were both comatose.

Such pathetic creatures!   Even in their big, heavy vehicles, all she had to do was blow on them and they were defeated.  She cut off her exhalation and let her lips pull back into a smile that let the two men pinned to her sides see just how pleased with herself she was.  The sudden silence as the "hurricane" instantly ended was broken by the sound of the vehicle, no longer supported by her breath,  crashing down to the ground.

It fell onto its side, the momentum she had leant causing it to scrape along the road at speed, generating a fountain of sparks.  It would have continued to travel in that fashion for a considerable distance if it hadn't then exploded, dissolving with a bang into an orange ball of flame.  Chunks of burning vehicle rained down all around as thick black smoke poured from the wreckage.  Tara's smile grew wider as she turned around slowly to face the second approaching vehicle - a smaller machine with identical blue and white markings to the one her two captives had been using.



The shred of hope that Gilles and Marcel had felt when they heard the arriving squad car and ambulance had turned to amazement, shock and then horror.  Amazement as they heard the sound of wind from above and craned their necks to see the girl holding them exhaling through her sexy mouth with enough force to create such a sound.   Shock as they saw that the exhalation was powerful enough to stop the speeding ambulance and even to force it backwards.  And horror as she had sent the vehicle spinning through the air to crash down and explode.

Now she had turned in the other direction to face the squad car that was supposed to be coming to their rescue.  Trapped against her fabulous body, the two men of course turned with her so that they were now facing their colleagues.  Marcel closed his eyes, dreading to think what sight might be about to unfold.  Gilles, lost in an inescapable maze of fascination, disbelief and awe, just stared up at the girl's stunning features.  He had never been a religious man, but he felt now as though he was in the presence of a god.  A beautiful, sexy, teenaged female god.



"This definitely is not a fucking publicity stunt for a movie!" Laurent screamed at his partner, amazed that the guy could have even suggested such a ridiculous theory.

"Then what the fuck's going on, man?" demanded Robert, his wavering voice betraying a deep-rooted terror.  And no wonder.  Called as back-up for two other officers investigating a crash-site, he and Laurent had approached the scene slowly enough to spot in good time the girl standing in the middle of the road with her back to them.

"What's she holding?" Robert had asked.

"Looks like... oh my god!" Laurent had answered.  Then they had spotted the ambulance approaching from the other direction.  They heard the sound of a hurricane and watched helpless as the medical vehicle was blown away, seemingly by magic.  Laurent had slammed on the brakes even before the ambulance exploded.  The two of them had sat, jaws hanging open, as the beautiful girl turned to face them.  Now there was no doubt that she was holding a policeman under each slender arm.  That was when Robert had aired his publicity stunt hypothesis.

"I said: what the fuck's going on?"  Robert was practically screaming now.

"Get a grip on yourself!" Laurent snarled.  Why did he have to be the one to ride around with this terrified rookie?  He pulled his pistol from its holster, drawing comfort from the reassuring way it felt in his palm.  When he switched his gaze back to the road in front, he saw that the girl was walking towards them.  The heads, arms and legs of the two officers tucked under her arms bounced about wildly with each step she took.  It was incredible.  She looked so slim and yet she was carrying two fully grown men as though they were mere stuffed toys.

"Oh Jesus!" muttered Robert.

"Shut up!" hissed Laurent, hastily winding down the side window, before leaning out with his gun intentionally visible to address the stunning young stranger.  "Hey you!" he shouted, his anger with his partner's unprofessionalism unmasked, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"



Tara thought the question was quite amusing.  Here she was, having just destroyed two Earthers and their vehicle, holding two more of the creatures under her arms, being asked by yet another one what she was up to.  There was only one answer she could give.

"I'm having fun." she said.

The angry Earther didn't seem to like her response.  Waiving his ineffective weapon around he barked.  "Put the two officers down and raise your hands over your head."   Before she could even dismiss the request, one of the two males she was pinning to her side spoke up.   "For God's sake!" he screamed.  "Get the hell out of here!  You can't stop her!  She's bullet-proof!  Get away from her!  Call the Army!"  Tara couldn't help laughing out loud.  She loved having this effect on big, "strong" men.

"Go!" the man at her side continued, his tone if anything even more desperate.  "You saw what she did to the ambulance!  Save yourselves!  Tell them, Gilles!  Gilles?  Gilles!  Tell them!"  Tara was enjoying the little performance too much to interrupt it.  She observed confusion of the face of the Earther brandishing his weapon and terror on the features of the younger one seated with him in the vehicle.  Patiently she waited for this "Gilles" - clearly the second man she was carrying - to say his piece.

The one called Gilles spoke slowly.  In direct contrast to his fellow captive, he seemed calm, as if he had resigned himself completely to whatever fate had in store for him.  "It's true." he said matter-of-factly.  "You can't fight her.  She's too fast.  Too strong.  Invulnerable."  As these words sunk in, he added: "She's a god."

A god?  She liked that.

"A god?" repeated the angry Earther in the vehicle.  He showed what he thought of the assessment by firing his pathetic little weapon.  Bored, Tara let the little pellet float towards her, not bothering to dodge it or even catch it, but rather letting it crumple up against her smooth flat stomach and ping away, back in the direction it had come from.  Although her perfect abdomen absorbed the bulk of its energy, the lump of metal still managed to crack the transparent material of the vehicle in front of her.



Marcel wasn't sure why Gilles seemed so calm. Neither was he about to start calling anyone a "god".  But he knew that the attempt to shoot the girl was doomed.  Moments after the ricocheting bullet shattered the patrol car's windscreen, he began shouting again.  "Get out of here NOW!".

"Enough!" said the girl above him, her voice firm but not raised.

"Go!  Get hel-"  Marcel's words were cut off as she squeezed his middle between her smooth, slim flank and her shapely, slender arm.  Suddenly, he couldn't draw air.  He tried to twist in her grasp, tried to prise her arm away from him, even tried biting her.  But it was a waste of energy.  How was it possible for her to be so strong?  Could Gilles be right?

He could hear the two officers in the car arguing.  The driver - the one who had shot the girl - wanted to empty the rest of his clip on her.  His partner, meanwhile, wanted to heed the advice he had been given and flee the scene.   Even as he struggled for air, he feared for his two colleagues.  His fears became real soon enough.



The two men bickering inside the vehicle had exhausted Tara's extremely limited patience.  She strolled confidently up to the machine, not caring that every step caused the men she was carrying to bounce about painfully.  Smiling down at the argumentative pair, she raised her left leg slightly before swinging it nonchalantly at the front of the vehicle.  The bridge of her delicate bare foot slammed noisily into the metal, sounding like a collision of steel-on-steel, not steel on unprotected, dainty feminine flesh.

Instantly, the front end of the transporter was flung into the air.  The back followed soon after as the power of the young woman's easy kick proved more than enough to launch the entire vehicle skywards.  She let her foot come naturally to rest alongside her other and watched, amused, as the machine soared into the air, turning end-over-end as it flew.  She wondered what would have happened if she had actually kicked it hard.



The girl's pretty foot sent the car flying so high and far that Gilles and Marcel could barely see it as it came down to Earth.  But the explosion that marked the moment of impact was clearly visible and audible to both men.  Marcel shuddered.  With a puff of breath and a casual kick the girl holding him fast had destroyed an ambulance and a police car and killed four men.  What did she intend for him?  She was still holding him so tightly that he could barely breathe.  He couldn't even speak to beg her for mercy.

And what of the second girl - the dark haired one?  He now believed every word of the story he had been told - that the dark-haired girl had smashed up the taxi and killed its driver.  These two beautiful girls were actually superhuman demons.  And no matter what he did, he seemed powerless to stop them.

If only the other officer had listened to him and gone for help instead of trying to shoot her!   Now, there was no-one to rescue them.  Even his partner seemed satisfied to remain limp tucked under her other arm, neither struggling nor protesting.  It occurred to Marcel that Gilles might well have lost his mind.  As he twisted his neck to get another view of the slim young woman who was slowly crushing his middle, he began to wish that he, too, would loose the power of rational thought.  Anything would have been preferable to the waking nightmare he now found himself in.



Tara looked down at the two men wedged under her arms as the last Earther vehicle came down to ground and blew up.  One of them - the one she had squeezed to stop him shouting - was bruising badly beneath her arm and against her side.  She could see him struggling to get enough air into his constricted lungs, even though she was taking care not to hold him too tightly.  Now, she understood exactly what her friend had meant.   These two males belonged to her now.  They were hers completely, and the feeling of total power was exhilarating. More than that, it was beginning to turn her on.

Slowly, she tightened her hold on the suffering man, watching his skin discolour beneath her shapely limb.  She observed his increasing desperation, saw his face turning purple.  She realised she was crushing the very life from him, merely through her unorthodox one-armed embrace.  It was just so easy for her to hurt this big male and she delighted in the situation as she continued to watch his body with amused curiosity from her comparatively lofty vantage point.

Meanwhile, Lyda was also watching.  Watching her friend demonstrating her power and watching the male she was currently demonstrating it on.  It was fascinating.  The look on Tara's face made it clear that she finally understood the sexual nature of her dominance.  Catching sight of the Earther's crimson features, the brunette realised that she, too, was getting excited.

In fact, Lyda was transfixed.  The more the male fought against her, the more aroused Tara was becoming.  Lyda saw her parting her thick lips, her two rows of perfect white teeth slightly separated.  Her sensitive ears detected the faint sound of Earther ribs creaking.  Tara heard it too, and the knowledge that she was causing it thrilled her.  Glancing from Earther to her friend, Lyda saw Tara's already-impressive nipples becoming more defined under the tightly-stretched material of her upper garment.  The sight stirred something deep within the dark-haired girl.



Marcel was in agony.  Terrible agony.  He could feel his bones bending, yielding to the impossible strength of the girl.  Unable to scream or to hurt her, he looked up at her face, scanning her features in the desperate hope of discovering some kind of weakness.  Instead he found himself staring at the erotically-charged features of a sexually stimulated young woman.  "Oh fuck!" he thought to himself, "She's getting turned on by this!"

Something went crack! and new pains shot through the side of his body.  Marcel didn't need an X-ray to know that one of his ribs had broken.  The girl had heard it too, for she was smiling now.  Something else caught his eye.  Something beneath her strange bikini-like top.  He could have sworn he saw her nipple swelling.  He checked the other and was certain.  Her top was tenting around her two magnificent, ever more prominent nipples.  It was true.  She was crushing him for her own sexual gratification.  If he had felt helpless before, now he felt it a thousand times more intently.

He also felt - and heard - another of his ribs give way to the girl's smooth arm.  She let out a slow, ecstatic sigh as the agony burnt through him.  There were tears in his eyes now.  He fought for air and found none.  Trying to blink his vision clear, he found it ever harder to focus.  Crack! Another bone was defeated.  New waves of pain washed over him, but he distinctly heard the girl letting out a low moan of pleasure.  More bones dissolved under the incredible pressure.  Marcel could barely see anything at all now.



Lost in her enjoyment, Tara slowly licked her lips as she squeezed the male until two more of his ribs were busted.  Now she could hear the strange sound of muscle deforming beneath her grip and it excited her still further.  Meanwhile, Lyda swallowed hard as she watched.  Her friend's expression of lust as she leisurely crushed the life out of a much bigger man was driving her wild.   The points on her own chest grew in an echo of Tara's and her lips separated sexily.

Only a sudden half-squelching, half-crunching sound from Tara's side distracted the two girls.  A whole section of male Earther muscle and tendon had been crushed out of existence by Tara's arm.  His body hung completely limp from her grip now, a black ring around his torso testament to her strength.  The mood slightly broken, Tara relaxed her limb and let the corpse fall unceremoniously at her feet.

"Mmmm," she said to herself, admiring both her handiwork and the way she had felt as she completed it.

"Wow!" muttered Lyda, under her breath, realising the way the display had affected her.

"Please have mercy on me." cried the last remaining Earther pitifully from under Tara's other arm as he looked from the body on the ground up to Tara's face. She smiled down at him.  She'd almost forgotten him entirely while she had been amusing herself with his colleague.

Tara adjusted her arm that was holding the male so securely. Instantly he groaned out in pain. She hadn't even intended to hurt him yet! She felt so powerful.  A grin spread over her face as, very slowly, she started to squeeze.  The Earther screamed  "Please!  Aaagh!  Please! No!" and the sound only turned her on more.



Gilles was certain that he was living his last moments.  He had watched, in awe and terror, as the girl crushed his partner to death and then carelessly dropped his corpse.  Now it seemed that she was about to take his life the same way.  Having long since abandoned all hope of physically challenging her, only begging remained as a tactic he could use.

He quickly saw that his yelled pleas were having an effect opposite to the one he wanted.  They seemed to make her enjoy what she was doing even more.  In a desperate flash of inspiration, he tried the last option available to him: appealing to the one person who might be capable of stopping the girl.  Her friend.

He twisted his neck until he was looking in the direction of the dark-haired girl.  "Please!  Don't let her kill me!  Do something!  Please!"  A huge burst of relief flooded into his mind as he saw the second girl begin to walk towards him.



Lyda was so excited by now that she couldn't resist the invitation to intervene, despite the promise she'd made to her friend.  Anyway, she'd let her have quite a few Earthers all to herself already.  "Tara," she started as she approached. She was using the Earther's language - she wanted him to understand every word she said. "um," she went on, biting her lower lip for a moment, coquettishly, "do you think we could, like, share him?"

The sparkle in the darker girl's eyes betrayed her innermost feelings.  Tara caught sight of it and felt a brief shiver through her body.  This, in turn, made Lyda's eyes sparkle even more brightly.  It was although the two girls were feeding off one another's arousal.  Stunned by the growing feeling, Tara finally answered, "Uh, yeah, sure."

The taller girl used her free hand to grab the male by the back of his neck.  As her fingers closed - as gently as she could manage - around his skin, he cried out and both girls laughed.  But when Tara loosened her other arm and pulled the man out in front of her, her gaze fell on her friend's face once more.  Lyda was staring straight into her eyes.  The laughter stopped suddenly.

Tara held the Earther out at arm's length in front of her.  She positioned him so that the top of his head was at the same height as hers, his neck directly in front of her right shoulder.  The males' knees were bent.  He had no choice in the matter - although he was slightly taller than Tara, it was she who dictated where his head should be.

"Lyda?" the taller girl addressed her friend.

"Yes, Tara?" Lyda was almost panting.  The Earther was sobbing silently but neither girl noticed or cared as they both took small steps towards each other.



The relief Gilles had felt a few moments before was rapidly evaporating.  Rather than coming to his rescue, it looked as though the dark-haired girl only wanted to participate in his destruction.  No.  That wasn't all she wanted.  Even in his terror- and pain-filled state, he could sense the electricity in the air between the two girls.

He could see the way they were looking at one another, the way they were responding to each other.   In any other circumstances, the mere thought of two such stunningly beautiful girls being mutually attracted would have driven him wild with lust.  But, being held captive by one of them, directly between her and her friend, he felt only fear.

Gilles knew that whatever it was that they intended to do about the growing tension between them, it would not end well for him.  He was being held by the taller one and facing the dark-haired girl who was staring straight past him at her friend.  The girl in front was barely a step away from him.  And although he couldn't see her, he felt sure he could sense the second girl a similar distance behind him.

Gradually, inexorably slowly, the two superhuman young women were leaning towards each other.  His pulse started to race as he felt the warm sweet breath of the girl holding him brush against his neck.  Her head had to be only centimetres behind his, perhaps even her chin was already over his shoulder.

The other one was closer too, now, her gorgeous mouth slightly open, sexily revealing her teeth.  As she leant towards her friend, she bent forwards so that her large, round breasts pushed against the fabric of her bikini.  Glancing down, he caught sight of an acre of firm cleavage and two highly aroused nipples threatening to burst through the straining material.

When he tore his eyes away from the wondrous vision that was now so close to his own body, he saw that the dark-haired girl was already stretching her neck so that her face was over his shoulder.  But that was where he thought the other girl was!  Unless… unless they were both…  His thoughts were interrupted as two very hard, rounded, finger-tip-like objects pressed into his shoulder blades.



It just seemed like the most natural thing in the world.  Tara and Lyda were drawn to each other.  Or rather their faces were drawn to one another's.  They never broke eye-contact for a moment as they moved together.  Then, for a moment, they paused.  They were staring at one another over the Earther's shoulder, their noses less than a finger-width apart.

Both girls had parted their lips.  Both were breathing heavily.  Both could feel their exhalations coming together in that tiny, highly-charged space between them.  Tara leant a little closer and felt the Earther shudder in her grasp as the extended points of her breasts touched his upper back.  He tried to move away from her.  Without any conscious effort, she held him fast in place.

They were almost touching now.  Eager to release the mounting tension, Lyda moved in towards her friend, stretching forward so that her engorged nipples pressed, through her top, into the Earther’s chest.  He began to shake slightly but neither girl paid any heed to him.  They were far, far too absorbed in each other.   Very cautiously, they touched their youthful, full lips together.

It was as if a high-voltage circuit had been completed.  The minimal contact sent jolts of electricity through the girls.  Without thinking of their situation, they pressed their lips more and more firmly to each other, instinctively moving their yearning bodies a little closer.  The Earther’s arms thrashed about pointlessly between them.   A creaking, cracking sound could be heard and the male let out a muffled scream.  The girls responded by increasing the intensity of their kiss.



To feel a beautiful young woman’s chest leaning on his body was wonderful.  To feel two such chests, one against his back, the other his front was incredible.  They were so big, so firm.  And their nipples!  Engorged with passion, they seemed as hard as steel as they pressed into him.  Such an erotic sensation.  Gilles began to orgasm, trembling as he stood, trapped between the two superhuman young women.

But the girls were still moving together.  He found his body now being squeezed as if in the world’s sexiest vice.  Four large, round, heavy breasts pushed against him, the point at the centre of each one now digging painfully into his flesh.  His penis still spasming, he suddenly realised that he could hardly breathe.  He tried to move and failed. He tried to push the girls apart and met with not the slightest success.

The pressure continued to build.  Panicking, he tried punching the two girls, swinging his arms and fists wildly, not caring which of them he hit, or where.  But it made no difference.  It was as though they were made of iron covered in smooth, warm, soft-to-the touch skin.  His knuckles bruised badly, but his predicament only worsened.

Something crunched noisily within him, a sound that reminded him of his partner’s death only moments before.  In terror and agony, he tried to scream, but his voice, starved of air by the increasing pressure on his chest and back, was weak.  The only effect of his yell was to encourage his tormentors to close the gap between them still further, their big breasts slowly, agonisingly, crushing him from two directions.  He felt the strength evaporating from his battered body.



Neither Tara nor Lyda had kissed another woman before.  The excitement as they discovered their passion was intense enough.   But the presence of the Earther, helpless between them as they tortured him with their perfect bodies, greatly amplified the sensation.  The sound of his torso yielding to them drove the girls on to ever higher levels of arousal.  Lyda’s tongue slid into Tara’s willing mouth, and the taller girl responded with her own eager tongue.

Now it was no longer enough for them to feel contact with their lips alone.  Still holding the Earther immovably in place between her and the object of her lust, Tara brought her free hand around the Earther’s head and entwined her fingers in Lyda’s long, straight black hair.  Lyda answered by raising both her arms and locking her hands behind Tara’s head, not noticing how her slender forearm effortlessly dealt with the obstacle that was the male’s right shoulder.



Gilles wanted to scream, but there no longer seemed to be any air in his lungs.  He could only see dimly, but he was aware of the girls reaching for each other.  Something smooth, which he realised was the shorter one’s arm, brushed his shoulder.  And then pressed down on it.  Hard.  He tried to move away, but he was far too securely trapped between the two incredible busts.

With a new unbearable pain, the muscle in his shoulder tore and the bones crumbled as the girl’s slim arm pushed into them.  He could feel the wetness of his blood as it pumped from the wound and a wave of nausea sweep over him.  But his chest was too constricted to allow him to vomit.  The last thing he felt was the taller girl removing her fingers from the back of his neck.



Tara took her hand off the Earther and placed it on Lyda’s pert, round buttock.  The new intimate touch made the brunette shudder with delight.  She longed to feel more of Tara, to press herself against a body as beautiful and firm as her friend’s, instead of yet another pathetic, ugly, soft Earther.  Loosing herself in the moment entirely, she pulled on her arms that were locked behind Tara’s neck.

The action served to pull the two girl’s bodies together.  As the space between them diminished, the body of the Earther tried to accommodate.  But it was too weak, too fragile.  The male burst like an overripe fruit, covering both girls with its gory contents.  Neither paid it any mind as they moved together, bones and organs collapsing to paste against their flawless and infinitely harder flesh.

They pulled each other close until their chests were touching, urgently running their hands along the length of each other’s bodies, smearing Earther remains on their smooth skin as they kissed and stroked.  Lyda broke the contact of their lips and ran her mouth down Tara’s neck and throat, tasting the blood of their victim as the taller girl threw back her head and moaned in delight.

They fell to the ground, rolling over on top of each other again and again, hands frantically exploring hips, buttocks, thighs and breasts.  They kissed and licked and fondled.  They sighed and groaned and screamed.  It was the first time with another woman for both of them, but they were willing and speedy learners.



Whenever a police unit lost contact with the control centre, it was cause for worry.  But when two units failed to respond and an ambulance crew that was also supposed to be on the scene weren’t answering their radios, things started to get a bit frantic.  Superiors were called and technicians checked and re-checked the equipment.

Something terrible must have happened out on that highway.  It was the only conclusion they could reach in the dispatch room.   Every available police car in the region was alerted and instructed to get to the site as fast as possible.  A helicopter was scrambled, and the other emergency services were placed on stand-by.  That was all they could do until someone actually reported from the scene.  Until then, they could only speculate.



Time passed, but the girls had not come close to exhausting their passion, nor slowed the manic tempo of their coupling.  Suddenly, Tara ceased moving and called out "Lyda! Sshhh!   I can hear Earther vehicles!"

Lyda heard them too.  Three, perhaps even more, of those primitive machines were approaching.  She shrugged and pressed her lips to Tara’s once again.

Tara broke off the kiss.  "We should get out of here before they get here."

"Why?" asked Lyda.  "And where should we go?"

"I could transport us to somewhere else on Earth."

"Why don’t we just stay here and finish what we’re doing.  If the Earthers want to join our party, then fine.  Otherwise, I’m not moving for them.  They’re just pathetic bags of guts."  She emphasised her point by using a sweep of her hand to indicate the gore all around them.  Of their final victim, nothing remained that could be identified as having once been part of a man, so thoroughly had they crushed him between them.

"I don't know, Lyda." Tara said, still unconvinced. "I mean, won't we end up drawing a lot of attention..."

"Hopefully," laughed the dark-haired girl, as she reached for Tara’s wonderful chest and squeezed a generous breast.

"Oh, Lyda! You're so naughty!" Tara giggled.  Then she threw herself back onto her friend and pressed her lips hard against the shorter girl’s.  And they resumed their passion, the crescendo of approaching vehicles a reminder both of the fun they were having and of the fun they were about to have.


Conceptfan, Sep. 2003.

Chapter 7




"They're getting closer."

"I know."

"Don't you want to greet them properly?"

"There'll be plenty of time for that."

"But shouldn’t we- Oh! Do that again! Oh, yes!"



The Chief Inspector slammed his fist down hard on the table. "Where the hell is everybody?" he demanded. The subordinates moving busily around him in the office paused for a moment. Under the circumstances, the question had a double-meaning. They were, after all, responding to a break in communication with two squad cars and an ambulance out on the coastal road. No-one was quite sure if the Chief was referring to the four patrolmen and two ambulance crewmen on the scene or the staff of the Prefecture who had been summoned in response.

Taking a chance that the Chief had meant the latter option, a fresh-faced young man in uniform spoke up above the murmur of people speaking on telephones. "The nearest vehicle should be arriving on site any minute, sir. They were twenty kilometres away when we radioed them. We have secured two further cars from the next region, but they won’t get there for another…." He checked his watch "..ten minutes or so."

"What about here? Have the technicians arrived?"

"Yes sir. They’ve already checked the equipment. There’s definitely nothing wrong at this end."

"I see."

On the far side of the room, an overweight red-faced man with a craggy face and greying temples finished his telephone conversation and replaced the receiver he’d been holding to his ear. "Sir!" he called out. "The chopper crew are now airborne. ETA at the site of the originally reported car crash is four minutes."

"Good. What about the fire and medical Services?"

A girl, barely old enough to have passed basic training, looked up from a flickering computer monitor. "A fire rescue vehicle has been dispatched, sir. It’s probably going to take about a quarter of an hour to arrive. The hospital’s other ambulance is responding to another emergency. They don’t have any more crews. I’ve contacted the next nearest response unit, but they’re at least twenty-five minutes away, traffic permitting."

"OK." The Chief Inspector took a moment to digest the latest information. He knew that there was little he could do until someone – anyone – reported back from the scene. How could he respond to a situation until he knew the nature of that situation? This was all unprecedented. Two patrol cars and an ambulance suddenly not responding to radio-calls and then remaining silent for half-an-hour was not something that happened every day.

His mind raced with possible explanations for the mystery. There might be a simple answer; something that prevented the three radios from working. But under those circumstances, one of the officers should have found an emergency telephone and used it by now. Maybe it was more sinister. A huge explosion might have destroyed the three vehicles, or at the very least destroyed the radio equipment. Or something might have happened to the six men on scene… But four of those men were trained, reasonably fit police officers. Even if they had run across a maniac with a machine-gun, someone would have survived. Someone would have radioed in. What the hell had happened out there?



"Mmmmmm. Yes!" Lyda’s words of encouragement found a willing listener. Tara continued her passionate kissing and sucking of her friend’s neck, the brunette’s soft, luscious lips displacing Tara’s flesh in a way that nothing else – no muscular male Earther, no speeding vehicle, no weapon – seemed able to do whilst they were on this planet.

The taller girl moaned in delight, feeling sensations dozens of times more intense than anything she’d felt in her time on Earth. Her mind was filled with physical ecstasy, leaving little room for thought. But one notion did manage to present itself. More of a question that a thought, it intrigued her: if Lyda could create an impression with just her lips that the Earthers and their machines hadn’t managed to achieve, then just how powerful was her friend?

And just how powerful was she? After all, she was Lyda’s equal here. She and her companion – her lover as she had now become – possessed the same fantastic abilities on Earth. The same seemingly unlimited strength. The same apparently total invulnerability. They were goddesses! The vast physical superiority they enjoyed over the inhabitants of this world meant they were above any laws or rules – either the laws that bound them in their own home or those that controlled the people of Earth. The entire planet was theirs to do with as they pleased. And they possessed the power to do anything. Anything!

Tara shut her eyes as Lyda’s tongue expertly darted into her ear. She pictured the petite – if curvaceous – girl beside her lifting a huge vehicle full of Earthers with her long, shapely, slender arms. The lust she was feeling grew as she thought of her lover’s power. She thought how the soft warm tongue that was giving her so much pleasure was strong enough to tear through metal, just like her own tongue. How the panting exhalations they were both producing could be re-directed to make hurricanes violent enough to alter the landscape. The more she thought of their abilities, the more sexually excited she became.

"Tara." Lyda whispered into her friend’s ear, her warm breath so stimulating.

"Hmmm?" Tara responded, her eyes still closed.

"Listen. I can hear a conversation in the closest vehicle!"

"I thought we were ignoring the Earthers." Tara said, opening her eyes and turning her head slightly to look straight into Lyda’s stunning face. "You’re so beautiful." she said, her lips almost unconsciously repeating her thoughts. "And so powerful."

"So are you." Lyda returned the compliment. "But you should listen to the Earthers. It’s so funny! We can always kiss and listen at the same time…" She proved her point by gently, sensuously, pressing her ripe lips against Tara’s equally desirable mouth.



The car raced away from the rising sun as fast as its engine would allow. Its two occupants sat tight-lipped in the front seats. The driver fixed his tired, bloodshot eyes on the empty, straight road ahead. His female companion, her complexion showing similar signs of a lack of sleep, stared pointedly out of the window on her side. She badly wanted to remove the make-up that she had liberally applied to her eyes hours before. Almost as much as she wanted to get out of the car.

Finally, she had turned to her companion to break the silence. It was the first time either of them had spoken since they’d begun the journey, an hour earlier. "I can’t believe you did that." she had said.

"Well, I did." was the terse reply. "Why is it such a big thing for you?"

"Such a big thing? You, getting your cock out and waving it about in the middle of the dance-floor of my favourite night club? Yeah, it’s a big thing. You humiliated me, Jules, you bastard."

"Humiliated? I’d say the other women were all jealous of you."

"You stupid pig! Stop the car!"

"What here? In the middle of nowhere? No way, Véro. I’m taking you home."

"I’m not going home with you. And if you think you’re ever going to come near me again with that… that thing you’re so proud of - then you must be dreaming."

"Fine. Whatever. I got a bit carried away and you-"

"-Carried away? You acted like a fucking savage. I don’t want to be with a man who does things like that."

"Too bad you can’t marry a priest, then."

"Fuck you, Jules. The second we get into town, I’m getting out. I don’t ever want to see you again."

"Oh, come on, Véronique. It was just a joke! I love you – you know that."

"Well, it wasn’t funny. You’re not funny. And you don’t love me. If you did you’d never have flashed yourself like that in public. We’re through. Find yourself a girl who enjoys that kind of thing. If there is such a thing."

"Look, I’m… I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to do. I never would have tried it if I knew that it was going to make you so- What the fuck is that?"


"That! Up there on the road." Jules eased his foot off the accelerator pedal, allowing the car to start to slow from its previous flat-out speed.

"Looks like an accident. Something’s turned over…" Véronique tilted her head to the side until her right ear touched her shoulder in an attempt to see the distant vehicle as if it were upright. "It’s an ambulance!" she announced. Jules hit the brakes, making her jerk forward until her seatbelt stopped any further movement.



"What a lovely couple! I think they’ve finally noticed us!" Lyda giggled.

"No, not us yet." Tara corrected. "Just that square vehicle I blew at." Both girls felt an involuntary thrill of excitement as they recalled the way the taller of the pair had stopped the speeding transport and thrown it backwards through the air with just a casually-dispensed jet of her breath.

"They’re so pathetic! They can’t see anything unless it’s right in front of them." Lyda observed. She caught Tara’s eye and noticed the ember of lust that had been kindled by the thought of the power of her superhuman lungs. Overcome with desire herself, she opened her lips a little and initiated another kiss. The two girls’ tongues toyed playfully as they entered each other’s mouths.

When the kiss broke, Lyda barely moved her face away at all. There was a moment or two of silence as the girls concentrated on hearing the two voices coming from the ever-nearing Earther vehicle. It was Tara who spoke first.

Their noses were still touching. Tara stared into Lyda’s eyes, breathing her words so very sexily. "Lyda," she exhaled, "I want to see you using your power again. I want to show me just how powerful you are."

Lyda smiled broadly, exposing her perfect, gorgeous teeth. "On one condition," she said. "You have to show me your power too."



The car slowed to a jogging pace as they neared the fallen ambulance. Both Jules and Véro scanned the scene before them. "What’s that over there?" Véronique pointed.

Jules squinted. "It looks like a bit of a police car…." He said, frowning. "Fuck, what happened here?"

"Jules, I don’t like this." Véro said, suddenly. "It’s starting to freak me out." The events of the past few hours were temporarily forgotten as she placed her hand nervously on her boyfriend’s sleeve.

"It’s just an accident," Jules said, secretly delighted with the unexpected touch of her hand on his arm.

"Something doesn’t feel right about this." Véronique tightened her grip on him. They were less than fifty meters from the ambulance now. The car continued to move slowly forward. "Look!" she said, her voice carrying more than a hint of nervousness. "There’s another police car! How the hell did it end up like that?"

"I… I don’t know." Jules answered, beginning to feel increasingly uneasy himself. They passed by the overturned ambulance, but couldn’t see inside it. As soon as they were beyond it, more of the road beyond was revealed. "Fuck! Look what happened to that other car! And… Oh, god!" Jules’ face changed colour in an instant, taking on a decidedly greenish shade. "Véro! Close your eyes! Don’t look!"

She obeyed unthinkingly. "What is it, Jules?"

"A… a… body… Looks bad. I better call the police."

"Don’t stop here, please Jules."

"No, no… When we get a little further down the-"

"What?" Véro’s eyes were still shut. She had no idea why her companion had suddenly fallen silent. "What is it Jules? Jules?" No reply. She had to look. First at the man beside her. He was still there. Still breathing. But his jaw was hanging open. His expression was strange. Not horror. Just surprise. Total, deep surprise. Slowly, Véronique turned to see what had caused it. The last sight she expected to be greeted with was two young, scantily-clad girls. They were lying in the middle of the road, smeared with blood and entwined, as if in an embrace. "Wha…?"



"Now they've seen us."


"Well, Lyda, now's as good a time as any. Go on, show me your power!"

"You really are an impatient young lady, you know that?"

"Please, Lyda. I want to see your power." Tara bit her lower lip, a subconscious showing of her need and her excitement. The gesture was not lost on her friend. Slowly, a grin began to spread over the shorter girl's face.

"Put your arms around my waist." Lyda instructed.

"But I want to watch you..."

"Shhh". Lyda laid her extended index finger gently over Tara's rich lips. "You'll enjoy this. I promise. Just hold on tight and go with the flow."

"OK" Tara placed her hands behind her friend's back, interlocking her fingers and pulling their two glorious bodies intimately close together. In fact, her grip was so forceful that, had Lyda been made of solid granite, the beautiful teenaged brunette would have been instantly crushed to dust. Lyda, however, was vastly more resilient that any mere block of stone. To her, Tara's superhuman hold felt like a warm, but tender, hug.

"Here we go... Get ready!" Lyda warned, arranging her legs beneath her lover's. Her legs, although supremely sexy by Earther standards, were not quite as long as Tara's. But they were strong. Perhaps too strong for an Earther to fully comprehend. When she pushed down against the ground, her flawless, pretty bare feet sunk into the surface of the path the Earthers had made for their vehicles. The ground yielded to her, cracking and crumbling, rock reducing to dust under the phenomenal pressure she exerted.

Yet Lyda only pushed down on her feet with a tiny proportion of her strength. Soon enough, as she pressed down, the material beneath her soles became sufficiently compacted and the stone beneath sufficiently solid to survive the force being applied and resist. As she continued to exert pressure, the ground began to push back, according to the laws of the universe. Instead of being driven into the Earth, her feet pushed the rest of her body upwards.

With minimal effort, she succeeded in lifting her body into the air and propelling it towards the newly-arrived argumentative couple in their vehicle. Of course, with Tara holding on to her so securely, the other girl was also carried up and to the side. In the end, Lyda's feat resembled a massive, standing leap. Only it was executed from a prostrate position.

Tara laughed when she finally understood her friend's intentions. Why stand up and walk to the vehicle when their feet - or in this case, just Lyda's feet alone - were powerful enough to carry them both the distance with a single bound? She grasped the brunette tightly by her tiny waist as they soared through the air, their embrace unbroken throughout. They slowly revolved mid-flight, so that each of them had a few moments on top and then underneath, and both had ample opportunity to observe the Earther vehicle as they soared ever nearer to it. They both noted with glee the changing expressions on the faces of the Earther couple within: confusion becoming surprise and then fear.

Lyda had judged the unorthodox leap to perfection. She and Tara knew it long before the Earthers could calculate their trajectory. Matching the taller girl's hold on her, she put her own arms around Tara's waist as they reached the apex of their flight, her fully aroused nipples pressing into her friend's equally fabulous chest, driving them both wild with lust. They were descending now, coming down towards the front of the vehicle, getting nearer every instant. Lyda was on top now, but they were still turning. It was her immaculately rounded rear that would crash down first.

Tara pressed her lips forcefully into Lyda’s as they crashed down onto the Earther vehicle. The thin metal sheet that covered the area where the complex, primitive engine was stored attempted to mould itself around the brunette’s superhumanly firm and rounded buttocks, but it quickly stretched beyond its tolerance and tore. Gravity and momentum pulled the entwined teenage girls downwards, and Lyda’s hips and thighs forced their way through the breached panel without noticing any resistance. Soon her pert rear was making a deep impression in the much more solid steel of the motor itself.

As the lovers’ fall finally came to a halt, the force of their impact shattered the transparent material in front of the vehicle’s occupants and small, sharp pieces of it spilled in all directions. Those that hit the lovely, exposed skin of Tara and Lyda merely bounced away, leaving no trace behind. Some fragments became trapped between the girls’ bodies and were instantly ground to dust. Other chunks hit the Earther couple, tearing through their garments, damaging their skin in places; even drawing blood. The seated female screamed. Beside her, the male seemed paralysed with shock and – both Tara and Lyda could smell the trace-note in his perspiration – sexual awe.

Lyda lay half-buried inside the front section of the vehicle. Tara was on top of her, their beautifully-formed, large breasts pressed together, arms still encircling each other’s waists. Their bodies were sideways-on to the two Earthers, their heads on the male’s side, feet on the female’s. Crumpled, displaced metal had piled up around them. A sprinkling of little bits of the transparent material covered them, catching the morning sun as if jewels had been scattered over them.



Jules’ first thought when he saw them was that they were victims of whatever had happened. They were lying in the road, long, exposed limbs splattered with blood. But he saw that they were moving. The next two realizations occurred simultaneously: firstly, far from thrashing about in pain, they were kissing and fondling each other like lovers. Secondly, they were beautiful. Really, out-of-this-world beautiful. He could not take his eyes off them.

Their graceful bodies and arms shifted far too freely for people carrying injuries so, he reasoned, the red marks on their skin could not have been their blood. His mind worked furiously, searching for a plausible explanation. Perhaps they were car-crash-fetishists who had stumbled upon the highway wreck and decided to make love beside it. Maybe they’d even smeared themselves in gore from one of the victims of the smash as part of their bizarre craze. He stared at them, watching as they moved, catching glimpses of different areas of each of the two bodies, never seeing anything that wasn’t perfect, desirable, ripe feminine beauty.

For the next half-minute, he forgot almost entirely about the woman sitting beside him. His gaze was fixed on the two girls, watching the lighter-haired one putting her arms around the other who seemed to be manoeuvring her feet beneath them both. From his vantage point, some ten meters from the cavorting couple, he saw those bare feet pushing down on the road. For an instant, he thought he saw the tarmac breaking and crumbling under her heels. Then, as the feet sank into the highway, he knew for sure that he hadn’t imagined the sight.

It all happened so quickly, his brain could barely register it. The two bodies suddenly rose up from the road. The feet that had been buried came free and the two girls were airborne. They were still horizontal, still holding on to each other, but now they were rolling over each other as they soared through the air in a graceful arc like the peak of a high-jumper’s leap. With shock, he understood that they were heading towards him. As they descended, he saw them rotate until the back of the dark-haired girl’s head face him. And then they landed. Right across the hood of the car.



He was jolted upwards by the impact, but Veronique didn’t see it. She, too, was thrown briefly from her seat as the girls crashed onto the bonnet. As she bounced down, she expected to see the couple rolling off the front of the car. But they did not. They actually seemed to be sinking down into it. The hood was bending… No! Tearing! She had to be dreaming. Had she really just seen that girl’s oh-so-rounded arse plough through the metal? Yes; the torn edges of the bonnet all around her proved that. They looked sharp. Why wasn’t there any fresh blood?

She was about to lean forward to look when the windscreen exploded right in front of her. Instinct made her close her eyes as countless shards of glass flew towards her. She felt something cut her cheek and there were a hundred little sting-like sensations all over the front of her body, In panic, she screamed. She brought her hand up to her face and touched her wound. Opening her eyes, she examined the blood on her fingers and saw the myriad small cuts her arms had sustained.

Then she saw the two girls. The one underneath – the one whose backside had smashed into the car – was lying in a deep recess. She was pretty sure that the top of the engine used to be where the girl’s hips now rested. So… what had happened to the engine? It wasn’t possible that it had been somehow compressed or even pushed out of the way by the hind quarters of a slender, too-beautiful-for-her-own-good, teenage minx! She remembered the bad feeling in her gut as they had approached the scene a minute before. She had been right. Something wasn’t right about what was happening.

She could sense it. There was something… something dangerous present. Something that should be avoided. She stared out of the window at the two girls lying atop one another across – and partly inside – the front section of the car. Could the "something" be the girls themselves? As if in answer to her thoughts, the lighter-haired girl momentarily raised her head from her companion’s face, turned to look at her and smiled. A sickeningly perfect, beautiful smile. But Véro was too terrified to feel jealousy.



Tara forced herself to pull away from Lyda for an instant. It was hard to break the kiss they were enjoying. Their lips had been pressed together with a force that could crush the biggest diamond on Earth to powder. Their tongues had been wrestling each other with enough strength to uproot the securest tree on the planet and toss it into the sky. Their lungs could have sucked every molecule of air from a covered stadium. But that was not why it was hard for Tara to end the kiss. To her, those extreme forces had felt like nothing more than passion. Burning, irresistible passion. And Tara found her own lust far, far more difficult to resist than Lyda’s unfathomable strength.

Once she had accomplished the feat of suspending the embrace, she looked at each of the vehicle’s occupants. The male seemed to have been frozen. His jaw hung low, his eyes open wide without any trace of comprehension in them. A small cut in his flesh, inflicted by the shattering transparent screen, dripped blood from his forehead onto his nose. A series of further minor wounds were visible through various torn holes in the front of his thin upper garment. Despite his predicament, Tara knew, through her fabulously heightened senses, that he smouldered with desire for her and Lyda. Just another, typical, Earther male.

She turned to his companion. The same look of astonishment was there, along with another emotion not present in the male. Tara identified it as hostile immediately, but it took a few more instants for her to pin-point it. Jealousy! Of her beauty, and her allure. And Lyda’s too. Jealousy of the fact that this woman, like all bar maybe a tiny number of Earther women, could not compete with their attractiveness. She returned the female’s glare with a warm grin. A grin that, Tara hoped, would show its recipient even more of her unmatchable beauty. At that moment, Tara’s astonishing physical appearance was merely another level on which she could feel superior.

She turned her attention away from the inferior beings in the vehicle and back to the fellow perfect being lying beneath her. It had been all of a couple of dozen beats of her heart since her lips had touched Lyda’s, but she felt the need to kiss her lover again. The display of her affections in front of an audience was only a minor thrill for her. She knew that watching Lyda displaying her power would be much more stimulating. Removing her mouth from the dark-haired girl’s face just far enough – barely the width of a finger – to be able to speak, she whispered hotly, "Show me, Lyda. Show me how powerful you are compared to these creatures."

Lyda grinned broadly. A wicked grin that, along with the gleam in her eyes, suggested she’d had an idea. "We’re both going to show our power." she said. "Together." Tara raised an immaculately-arched eyebrow to show both curiosity and an element of uncertainty. Lyda attacked her friend’s doubt first, by revealing the most attractive part of her plan. "We can stay like this the whole time. We can even do it while we kiss."

Tara was being convinced. Any proposal that involved intimate physical contact with Lyda was acceptable to her at that moment. The fact that, from so close, she might not be able to observe her friend as clearly while she exercised her power over Earthers was a drawback, but, she reasoned, there would always be more Earthers. Even as she had the thought, her remarkable sense of hearing detected the distant noise of further primitive vehicle engines. One was yet another land-based vehicle, similar to the one on which she and Lyda now lay. The other motor she could hear made a different sound and seemed to be coming from a different angle. She wondered if it was a flying machine of some kind.

Lyda had heard it too. "Listen, there’s more of them coming. You can watch me destroying some of them. Just let me – let us – try my idea right now."

"OK," Tara conceded. "If you promise we can kiss the whole time."

"I promise." Lyda breathed. "Just relax and do what I do." She barely finished speaking when Tara planted her lips over hers once again. Lyda did not complain about her lover’s impatience. She was learning that Tara was a very competent kisser.



"Grooves in the road?"

"Yes, Chief Inspector. That's what they're reporting. Four of them, in two sets of two. They start a couple of kilometres from the reported crash site. The patrol unit is following them now."

"What's their ETA at the scene?"

"Less than a minute I'd say, sir. The chopper crew should be arriving imminently too."

"And the other cars?"

"Four or five minutes away, sir. The fire service are about another six minutes behind them and the ambulance will-"

"-OK, OK, thank you Sergeant." The Chief Inspector cut off the dispatch operator. He didn't want a complete timetable of the emergency response. He just wanted to know when the hell he would be getting a report from the site. The grooves cut into the road that the closest unit had reported worried him. This was beginning to look increasingly like a far-from-everyday incident. He didn't want to even guess at what his men might find out there.



Véronique found herself trembling as she overheard the two girls speaking in hushed tones in a strange language. The increasingly malevolent gleams in their eyes were somehow terrifying. Her intuitive unease was now a deep-rooted fear. She felt certain that the bizarre duo were more than just undesirable company. Part of her told her she should run as far and as quickly as she could from them. But another part of her was simply refusing to believe either her gut instincts or the things she had actually seen. She didn't move a muscle.

Neither did Jules. He was too engrossed in the sight of the two most gorgeous, most physically perfect female teenage sex-bombs that he'd ever seen. Lying across the front of his car - lying half inside the front of his car - their fabulous bodies on display, engaging in a long, passionate, lesbian embrace. How could his brain even start to try and comprehend the baffling scene?

The girls were moving slightly. The one with the lighter hair was rolling slightly off the other one, moving towards Jules and Véro. Less and less of the dark-haired girl was visible from inside the vehicle as the taller girl’s back slowly eclipsed her. A loud crunching sound grabbed the attentions of both of the car’s occupants. Glancing downwards a little, they were treated to the remarkable sight of the lighter-haired beauty’s slim flank sinking into the long-suffered metal of the hood. Now the two girls were lying side by side, face-to-face.

Jules could see the nearer one’s slender arm pushing aside everything it encountered, the thick steel of a bit of the engine wadding up like soft clay against her silky skin. Véro saw the same girl’s curvaceous hips smearing another part of the car’s works like a knife might smear butter onto warm toast. The way this lithe, sexy, perfect body carved so effortlessly through the vehicle made the two Earthers think that their machine had partly molten.

Groan…. Crunch! They were moving again. The metal protested as shapely limbs placed strains on it that it simply was never intended to withstand. Then it yielded as those limbs refused to contemplate anything that wasn’t a complete victory. The shorter girl, the brunette, came into view again, rising on the far side of her companion. It did not take much to realize that they were rolling, one over the other. Jules observed that the girl’s faces were still pressed together, the kiss they were enjoying remaining unbroken despite their movements.

Those movements continued. Soon, the dark-haired girl was lying on top of the other, the taller girl’s fantasy rear noisily compacting something pretty solid that had the misfortune to find itself beneath her. Vero looked straight ahead at the four immaculately shaped, long, smooth entwined legs. They were just too perfect, she thought. Unearthly, even. Meanwhile, Jules’ eyes were ideally situated to see the profile of the two girls’ chests, their wonderful round breasts pressed together, a vision of eroticism more potent than any he’d ever gazed on before. He felt himself responding to the vision, his penis stiffening, his groin tingling.

Then they shifted once more, the one with the dark-hair now showing her back to them. Jules caught sight of her spherical, firm- enough- to- deform- steel buttock-cheeks and felt a familiar tightening in his loins. He was about to lose control of himself. Even the potential embarrassment of being driven to orgasm in his clothes by the sight of two teenagers whilst his girlfriend sat beside him was not enough to cool his ardour. An especially loud creaking of suffering metal drew his full attention back to the sexy duo. The one with the lighter hair was on top again. And they were both closer to him and Véronique. Much closer. They looked even better from that distance. He felt an involuntary shudder tear through him.



It didn’t take Tara long to figure out Lyda’s intentions. She was too engrossed in the delights of her friend’s lips and the way her superhuman body clung so tightly to her own to be overly concerned, but she appreciated the plan none-the-less. They were rolling, turning over and over, moving up the front of the Earther vehicle towards the two stunned people inside. It felt lovely as they turned. Lyda’s glorious body pressed against hers from the front, and the steel of the vehicle pressed – far, far less effectively – from behind. She could hear the metal moan as she and Lyda crushed it beneath them, and the sound thrilled her.

As they rotated, she was able to see, from time to time, the face of the male Earther. The lust on his face as he stared at her and her friend was amusing. The confusion and fear that also showed on his features delighted her. The man was in complete awe of them! She was close to him now, close enough to have been able to touch him if she had taken her arm away from Lyda’s waist to reach out for him. But she didn’t want to break that contact. And she knew that she would not have to. A couple more delightful rolls over Lyda and her shoulder would be where the male’s face now was and her knee would be exactly in the place currently occupied by the female’s head.

It was strange the way that neither of the Earthers had worked out what was going on. They seemed content to remain motionless, right in her and Lyda’s path. Even at those moments when she was facing away from the male, her sensitive nostrils revealed his sexual arousal. Could it be that he was so overcome by desire that his brain was malfunctioning? And what of the female; why wasn’t she moving? Was it possible that neither of these two had yet understood the danger that they were in? Couldn’t they see the damage she and Lyda were causing to their vehicle as they rolled over it? Did these two creatures believe they were more resilient than steel?

Lyda’s breasts, now pendant as she rolled on top of Tara once again, distracted Tara from her thoughts of the Earthers. She felt the two large, superhumanly firm mounds pushing down on her own more-than-impressive chest and shut her eyes to concentrate on the sensations caused by that wonderful body moving with her own. There was a clunking sound as some part of the vehicle’s frame was forced to readjust to accommodate the slender brunette as she rolled onto her side. Tara opened her eyes. Her view of the Earthers was obscured now by Lyda, but she could now hear them moving inside the vehicle. Moving quite frantically, in fact.



Véronique’s brain was less clouded than Jules’. When she saw the girls rolling once more so that one of their knees was now about ten centimetres from where the windshield used to be, she finally understood what was happening. The torn, scrunched metal beneath and all around them was the clincher. This bizarre pair were obliterating every bit of car – including the hood and much of the engine – that they encountered on their amorous tumble. If they continued, they would soon reach where she and Jules were sitting.

With a chill that ran the length of the body, realization dawned. She and her boyfriend – her ex-boyfriend – were about to be torn and compressed just as was happening to their car. It was as if they were sitting right in the path of a steamroller. If they didn’t move, they would be crushed. The carnage all around – the overturned ambulance, the smashed-up police cars, the body Jules had seen – all that had been caused by these two… two girls. At last, she felt she understood. They weren’t girls. They were devils.

Another movement in front of her reminded her of the urgency she now needed to show. The car creaked all around her as a strain was put on some part of its frame. Survival took over, flinging itself to the fore of her thoughts. Her left hand reached for the handle that opened the door beside her, found it and pulled. Nothing happened. She pulled again, once more without success. Tearing her eyes away from the ever-encroaching danger in front, she turned to look at the door. She definitely had the right handle. Why wouldn’t it work?

She pulled for a third time, this time using her shoulder to push on the door, hoping that it was simply a little reluctant and a shove would resolve the problem. It didn’t. Crazily, she started pulling and releasing the door mechanism over and over again, sweat now pouring onto her forehead as panic became her main mode of thought.

The movement and noise beside him finally broke the spell that had Jules entranced. He shot a glance at Véro, and saw her desperately trying to open the door on her side. Glancing back to the front, he saw how very very close one of the girls’ smooth round shoulders was to him. It all clicked into place. The driver’s seat of the car was not a good place to be at that moment. He needed to get out as well. But, the two beauties making out just centimetres from him were so gorgeous, so sexy, he didn’t really want to move away from them. He knew he had to, but he didn’t want to.

The girls rolled a little more, parts of their interlocked bodies now inside the actual car, beyond where the windshield had once been. He was staring straight at the side of a magnificently rounded, hanging breast. He could see its large, aroused nipple digging into the wonderful flesh of another breast beneath it. It was so close. So… sexy… so…. Jules trembled where he sat and let the eruption he could no longer contain flow from him. Instantly, his underwear was soaked through. A dark patch appeared at the crotch of his trousers and an involuntary moan left his lips.



Lyda was just about to increase the speed of her tumbling with Tara. As nice as the sensations were that she felt, and as wonderful as the anticipation was, she was a little concerned that her toys might not play along. She could see the female inside the vehicle trying to operate the panel opening device. Clearly at least one of them had realized what was happening.

She had conceived her plan with a specific purpose. Ruining the primitive machine with their bodies was fun, but the point was to do it while the Earthers were inside. If the female - or even both of them - got out, it would be such a shame. At the same time. there were other vehicles heading their way and she knew enough about Earth to assume that these would also be occupied. Lyda wanted at least some of the new arrivals to witness her and Tara in action. She was looking forward to their reactions.

They rolled over so that she couldn't see the Earthers anymore. Not with Tara blocking her view. It was amazing. She could see through any object on this planet, no matter how dense. Except for her friend and herself, as though they were made of some uniquely impenetrable material. In a way, she thought, they were.

Even though she could no longer see the woman, she could hear her repeated attempts to open the vehicle's door. Her ears detected the increasingly frantic nature of those attempts, and the acceleration of the female's heartbeat. She could also smell her perspiration. The woman was panicking. Obviously she and Tara had caused the frame of the door to become slightly misshapen; perhaps it was only a tiny dent or bend in the thin metal, but it seemed enough to trap the Earther.

Lyda was lying directly on top of Tara now. They were so near the Earthers. She could feel the male's hot, irregular breath on her body. A new, more pungent smell reached her as she rolled. Recognising the distinct odour, she smiled to herself. The man was on the point of orgasm, clearly overcome with the close-range sight of the side of her and Tara's bodies.

A moment later, it came. She could tell just before it was happening by the subtle change in the way he was breathing. She heard the fluid hitting the fabric of his garments, and smelt it flowing out of his organ. And neither she nor Tara had even touched him... yet.



"We've got to get out! Jules! We've got to get out! Jules? Jules!"

"Huh?" He had forgotten that she was even there. Suddenly, he remembered everything. He glanced down at the sticky stain between his legs and turned bright red.

Véronique followed his eyes to this groin. "For fuck's sake Jules! Is that...? Oh Christ, Jules that's disgusting! What's wrong with you? Can't you see what's going on here? Can't you see past the tits to the devils behind th-". She never finished her sentence.



Lyda couldn't smile because her mouth was locked on Tara's. But the words being exchanged by the Earthers amused her. She knew it had been the sight of her breast, pushing down from above onto Tara's, that had pushed the male to a point where he could no longer control his lust. She quite liked the idea that she had caused him sexual humiliation at such a key moment in his existence.

It was so wonderful to have such unlimited superiority over an entire planet's inhabitants. How great to know, without doubt, that every being she encountered and every weapon it could use, was as nothing compared to her. Even as she saw the latest vehicle approach, she knew its occupants were hers and Tara's if they wanted. She'd spotted the flying machine, too, approaching amazingly slowly.

Just more ways to have fun. Like the fun they were having right now. Lyda knew that they were almost upon the arguing Earthers in the vehicle. She could feel how Tara was beginning to become increasingly excited by the thought of her power. She decided to show her lover her own feelings at that moment. Hungrily, almost aggressively, she pushed her tongue past Tara's parted teeth.



The final quarter-roll before she hit the Earthers was Tara's favourite. Lyda, sensing both what was about to happen and Tara's increasing anticipation of it, slid her tongue erotically into the taller girl's mouth just before contact. Tara responded by pressing her groin and her chest even more firmly than before into Lyda's goddess-like body. And then the momentum of their roll took her beyond the point of no return.

The female was still berating the male for his orgasm. Tara was aware of the nature of the one-sided conversation only dimly. Most of her thoughts were filled with the sexual ecstasy of her intimacy with Lyda and the thrill; the sense of unstoppable, unchallengeable power that coursed through her veins as she was about to demonstrate the vast superiority of her strength over Earthers once again.

Tara's knee, her smooth, flawless, round knee, came down on the Earther woman's head, silencing her tirade immediately. Then it decapitated her. At the same time, her perfect silky shoulder ploughed straight through the male's face as though it wasn't there. She felt the wetness and the warmth of the blood, but not the resistance of the flesh and bone.

They continued to roll, both girl's tongues now earnestly engaged in a wresting match set within the confines of their tightly inter-locked mouths. As they passed over the mess of Earthers that they’d created, the vehicle's front chairs gave way to their unopposable advance and, with nothing beneath them, they fell into the body of the machine, lying between the two rows of seats.

As she was slightly taller, it was only Tara's feet that didn't fit completely inside the vehicle. They slid, carving a wide vertical channel through one side of it, everything they encountered being instantly crushed or torn or compacted. The girls refused to allow their kiss to be interrupted, even the fall into the vehicle not breaking them apart, although Lyda, who landed beneath Tara, did rupture the steel floor with her backside.



"...no this must be it. We're coming up on the scene now. I can see - oh my god - the rear half of a patrol car about thirty meters from the road on my right and another piece of the chassis still on the highway. There's another patrol car upside down just off the road to my left and about twenty meters on there's a civilian car that.. what the hell? ... looks like something's torn the roof off and one side, but the front's perfectly intact and - oh god - one fatality. Civilian. Male. Late forties. Can't see his face from this side.... Oh! Severe injuries.... Ach... in a real mess..."

"Copy that, patrol. You OK?"

"Yes, yes, just - that was the worst I've ever seen... there's more here...

"More fatalities, patrol?"

"I... I'm not sure. Hold on. We're going to stop and proceed on foot."

"Copy that, patrol."

"The grooves in the road appear to stop under the wrecked civilian car. I'm checking the overturned patrol car now.. oh god, no! It’s one of ours. No I.D…. just the uniform... I can't... oh god..."

"Patrol? Patrol, repeat please."

"Base, there's someone underneath this patrol car. I can only see part of a leg and a foot, but it's in uniform."

"Copy that, patrol. Touch nothing for now. Backup, medical and fire service teams are on their way. Repeat: Backup's coming. Touch nothing."

"Got that, base. I.. don't know what's happened here. I can see an ambulance lying on its side about seventy-five meters down the road. No sign of the other patrolmen. There's a right mess on the road just about ten meters further on. It's.... it's... oh god, I think it's blood. And there's something... oh fuck.... I think its a department badge... it's covered in blood and it's been crushed almost flat. I don't know what's happened here. It doesn't make sense."

"Patrol, backup is coming. What else can you see?"

"Ach..well.. there's... there's another civilian car. There’s something inside it. I'm going to have a look... Jesus! The front of the car is completely wrecked. It's all crushed and the wind- oh god. oh fuck... oh jesus.... ah... base... base... ah... two further fatalities... civilians.... ah.... one male one female.... Fuck! They haven't got heads man!"

"It's OK, patrol. Backup is imminent. Advise you come away to the far side of the road and await their arrival."

"Roger, base."



The conversation over the primitive communication device, of which Tara and Lyda could hear every syllable, somehow broke the mood a little. It seemed for both girls the right moment to finally end the kiss they had begun on the front of the vehicle, on the other side of where the two Earthers had been sitting.

They were both shocked that the new arrival on the scene, although intent on reporting everything he saw to someone called "Base", failed to even notice the two of them lying on - and in Lyda's case, partly through - the floor of the vehicle. After all, he'd noticed what they'd done to the two Earthers. Now he was walking away, waiting for someone else called "Backup" to turn up.

"'Civilians' he called them." Lyda whispered to Tara too quietly for an Earther to hear even from a tiny distance. "And one of the others was 'one of us'. That means this guy's not a civilian. He's from the authorities."

"Is that good?" Tara whispered back her question.

"Yes. They'll be organised. Get more vehicles and people here. With all their best equipment. Did you see the flying vehicle floating towards us?"

"No, but I've been hearing it for ages. I can hear more land machines too."

"Exactly. They're gathering here. Loads of them, Tara."

"So we can watch each other using our power over and over again!"

"As much as we want! In fact... Tara?"

"Yes, Lyda?"

"I've just thought of a fantastic new game we can play!"

"Do we get to use our power?"

"All the time. Let me tell you the rules. Oh, we're going to have so much fun!"



The Chief Inspector held the transcript as he listened to the helicopter crew's description of the scene beneath them. As the airborne men listed what they could see on the ground, the Chief compared their words to what the first officer on the scene had reported. To his consternation, the two eye-witness accounts tallied up well. Whatever had happened out there to two of his patrols and the ambulance and at least three civilians, whatever had caused the destruction and carnage, it certainly hadn't been a run-of-the-mill traffic accident.

To begin with, it didn't make any sense that the vehicles were scattered over such a large area. There were cars that appeared to have been crushed, with no sign of what had done the crushing. The only victims so far discovered for certain were actually in their vehicle and, according to both accounts he had received, had been mysteriously decapitated. Blood had also come to be spilled, somehow, on the highway away from the cars. There was no sign obvious sign of any bullets having been fired or of any explosives detonated.

The chopper crew confirmed that, other than further emergency response vehicles speeding to the scene, there was no other sign of life in the area. But the Chief Inspector knew that something must have caused the terrible scene. And, despite his normally rational disposition, he was worried. What the hell was the "something" that had wreaked such havoc, where was it now, and would it strike again? He knew that he urgently needed the answers to those questions. His job was to protect the public. He had to know what it was he was supposed to protecting them from.



"OK, so this vehicle we’re in is the dividing point. Everything as far as you can see on your side of it is yours, everything on the other side is mine. Got it, Tara?"

"Got it, Lyda."

"You can’t score any points on my side of the line, and I can’t score any on yours."

"Understood. So, how does the scoring work?"

"Let’s keep it simple. One point for each Earther."

"OK. When do we start?"

"How about right now?"

"Alright then."



"Yes... I've got a visual on the patrolman, by the side of the road. Looks like something pretty awful went on down there, base. Difficult to see from up here, but the damage looks extreme. There's the civilian car with... oh god... two fatalities inside... ah man, that's not a nice sight..."

The dispatch clerk typed her report with practised efficiency, making sure she captured everything of note that the helicopter look-out passed on. She tried not to think about the scene that was being described to her, although there were moments when it was impossible not to remember that she was a human being talking to another human being. A cop talking to another cop.

"More ground backup is approaching the scene, Airborne. We've got fire and ambulance crews on their way. You can leave the corpses for the specialists."

"Roger that, base. Just checking to see if there's any sign of any survivors. There just doesn't seem to be anything moving... Anything at all.... Wait! What was that? Jean-Paul, circle round again over that brown vehicle! Quick man! That's it! Base... Base! There's someone alive down there! Wait, make that two survivors. Two... females. By the civilian car with the two casualties. Where did they come from?"



"Where the hell did they come from?" Pierre muttered to himself as a sudden sound from the wreckage in the road made him look up. He'd been standing a meter from the edge of the tarmac, staring down the highway for any sign of the promised back-up. He'd seen enough blood and guts already, and was happy to follow orders and leave the carnage splayed out on the road for the relative sanctuary of the far side of the crash-barrier.

When the other crews arrived, he could get involved again, this time, following direct orders. That would be a lot easier to deal with than all that eerie one-man poking around smashed-up cars and bodies. Now, suddenly, it looked like he was going to have to act alone anyway. There were two more civilians here. Two alive civilians. Two very alive civilians.

They were standing either side of the car whose roof had been crushed, along with the heads of the driver and his passenger. But he'd already checked out that vehicle - well, enough to have seen the headless corpses, anyway - and he'd seen no trace of anyone alive. Let alone two people as completely unharmed and - he could not pretend otherwise - sexy as these two girls.

Each of them was a model of young, fresh, feminine perfection. Long, shapely limbs that moved so gracefully with the most sublimely perfect of bodies. Marvellously curved hips that tapered so erotically into flat, inviting waists above which proudly sat big, fabulously round and miraculously firm breasts.

Squeezed into small, extremely thin and dramatically over-worked bikinis, each girl's chest competed with the other for his attention. And the rest of the two bodies was also quite a sight. The only other garments they wore were small briefs that matched their tops and concealed their most intimate areas. Pierre would not have been surprised if he had been told that the gates to paradise lay beneath those skimpy clothes.

His radio crackled in life, bringing him sharply back to the horrendous reality he found himself in. "Patrol, can you confirm that? Airborne reports two civilian survivors on the scene."

After a moment’s hesitation to clear his head, he clicked the talk button on his radio and responded. "Affirmative, base. Two females. No apparent injuries. I'm approaching them now."

"Roger that, patrol. Take preliminary statements while the medical team arrive."



"Well," Lyda said to Tara, across the corpses of the two civilians they'd rolled over, "this one's definitely on my side of the line."

"But, he's walking towards my side." Tara observed.

"Then, I'd better act quickly!" Lyda smiled. Turning to face the Earther directly, she called out, in his language "Hey you! Stop!"

"What?" the creature seemed confused. He hesitated, mid-stride.

"One more step and he's mine!" Tara teased her friend, electing to use the Earther tongue more out of cruelty than anything else.

"What?" the male was even more bewildered now. His picked up his foot to make the next stride.

"Oh no you don't!" Lyda called out.



The girls seemed to be just chatting as he neared them. He thought he heard snatches of a foreign language, but couldn't identify it. Pierre was completely taken aback by the sudden, unexpected shout for him to stop. In the circumstances, he wondered if he was about to walk into something dangerous or perhaps he was being warned about stepping on something he hadn't seen. That was why he hesitated.

But the tone of the instruction was strange. And the way the girl addressed him - "Hey you!" - unsettled him. He would have expected "Officer!". He should have shown his authority at that point and he knew immediately that his "What?" was a rather weak substitute. Once again, he felt distinctly uncomfortable. Where was the back-up?

At that moment, the other girl said something that completely confused him. What did she mean by "one more step" and he'd be "hers"? What the hell was going on? His sense of unease grew rapidly. Once again, his vocal chords betrayed his inner state with the repetition of the pitiful question "What?"

He began to move towards the one who'd made the "one more step" remark, hoping that he could get more sense out of her from closer range. The words "Oh no you don't" registered in his brain as having come from the other, darker-haired girl. He turned quickly towards her and saw her facing him directly, with her full lips thrust out towards him as if inviting him to kiss them.

He paused for a moment, lost for what he should do next. A sound, like rushing wind, reached his ears. His next thought: "Cold!" was the last he ever had.



Lyda realised she needed to act quickly to stop the male entering Tara's zone and becoming a point her friend could win in their game. What better way to prevent him moving, she thought, than to freeze every molecule of liquid in him solid. As she blew the softest of streams of her breath at him, she concentrated on keeping the temperature of her exhalation as low as possible.

The air that her little kiss passed through on its way to its target turned temporarily to liquid as it was cooled almost instantaneously. So cold was the air Lyda exhaled through her sexy, pouting lips, that it killed the Earther the moment it touched him. His muscles, organs, tissue and blood became thick ice. In a blink of an eye, he became a solid, unmoving statue, a thick coating of white frost all over his suddenly lifeless body.

The petite brunette closed her thick lips and stretched them in a smug smile. She felt enormously proud of what she had done. She'd frozen a man solid in mid-step just by blowing cool breath at him. Tara, watching her intently, also looked impressed. Both girls could hear the faint sounds of the dead Earther slowly beginning to defrost in the warm sun.

"That's one-zero to me." Lyda announced, triumphantly.

"Not for long!" Tara promised. "That flying vehicle's on my side of the line. And there's two Earthers in there!"



"Base! Base! Something's just happened to the patrol! I couldn't see it properly from here, but I think he's been shot with some kind of spray or something by one of the survivors."

The Chief Inspector heard the words over the radio and felt his heart sink. The bad feeling he'd had about all this was proving accurate. He could hear another dispatch clerk frantically trying to raise a response from the ground without success. He grabbed the microphone connected to the helicopter lookout from the clerk who was holding it.

"This is Chief Inspector Legrand. Did you see a weapon being used against the officer?"

"Er... no weapon, sir."

"We cannot raise the patrol by radio. Can you see him?"

"Yes, sir. He's still there."

"Is he down?"

"No sir, he's not down, he's standing. But he doesn't appear to be moving. He looks like he's coated in something white and shiny... like ice."


"Yes, sir."

"Where are the two civilians survivors?"

"Still down there, sir. They're looking up at us.... once of them looks like she might be bl-" The voice stopped mid-sentence, only to be immediately replaced by a burst of static that brought the whole room to a sudden stop. The dispatch clerk moved to turn down the volume of the speakers as the Chief Inspector called urgently into the microphone.

"Airborne? Airborne? Can you hear me? This is Chief Inspector Legrand. Do you hear me?" There was no reply. Only the unbroken sound of static.



Tara thought Lyda's method for dispatching the Earther was great fun. Not just blowing him away with her breath, but freezing him solid where he stood. She immediately wondered if the same technique would work over greater distance. What would happen if she tried the same trick against the flying vehicle?

As she prepared to unleash a blast of her coldest breath at the ponderously circling machine, she overheard - above the racket of its primitive engine - one of the two Earthers inside describing her over his communicator. She waited until he was about to say the word "blowing" before finally letting rip with her exhalation.

It was easy really. She didn't have to blow hard at all, because she wasn't trying to overpower the machine. Merely to turn the liquids in its engine and in the veins of its occupants to their frozen equivalents. No sooner had her breath wafted over the vehicle, than her task was accomplished. Its motor fell suddenly silent, its rotating blades became instantly stationary.

Both Tara and Lyda could detect that there were no longer any heartbeats on board the flying machine. Their bright, clear eyes could penetrate the metal casing and study the ice-covered forms inside for confirmation, even as the vehicle fell, straight down. One instant a flying machine, the next a weight that crashing down from the sky.

The dead craft impacted with the Earth just a few paces from where Tara was standing, shaking the ground and everything on it except for the two teenage girls. The lighter haired member of the pair knew that had its fuel not been frozen into solid lump, the machine would have exploded violently on impact.

She was disappointed that it hadn't until she caught sight of the glint in her friend's eyes. Lyda was clearly delighted by the display she'd just witnessed. And as long as her lover was happy with the outcome, so was Tara. "Two-one to me." she bragged.



"Unit 43. Unit 43. Can you hear me?"

Daniel snatched the mouthpiece from its mount under the dashboard of the patrol car to answer the call. His diver, a young man with barely eight months' experience in uniform named Claude, turned briefly to meet his eye, acknowledging their shared sense of nervousness. Being asked to respond to an emergency outside of their usual area of patrol was always a bad thing; it meant very unpleasant stuff had happened or, worse, was still happening.

For the past few minutes the two of them had listened to the exchanges made by their colleagues over the radio frequency that had been assigned to the - as yet undefined - incident. They had heard descriptions of mutilated corpses and then the gut-wrenching sound of a fellow policemen failing to answer his radio, despite the desperate and futile attempts of dispatch clerks to raise him. Now, they were approaching the reported scene of the mysterious "incident".

"Base, this is 43." Daniel spoke into the microphone.

"What is your location, 43?"

"We're about 2k short of the incident site, still approaching from the North.... I can see Airborne overhead now.... What the fu-?....Oh my god!"

"43? What's happened? Report please, 43?"

"Base, the chopper's come down! I saw something, like a fine jet of water or I don't know what. It hit the chopper and then it just fell, like a stone. Oh my god!"

"43, will you please repeat."

"The chopper has come down. Something hit it from the ground and it fell. No explosion or tail spin - just fell. Straight down... Jesus!"

"43, once again, please confirm that you saw something fired from the ground at the airborne unit."

"Affirmative, base. It looked strange, more like mist than a rocket, but I definitely saw it."

"Roger that, 43. Proceed with cau-"

"-Pass me that microphone, please Sergeant." The distant voice interrupting the dispatch Sergeant startled Claude and Daniel. A moment later, the new voice was speaking clearly to them.

"Car 43, this is Chief Inspector Legrand. Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Chief Inspector." Daniel replied immediately, unconsciously sitting up a little straighter.

"Car 43, you are to approach the scene with extreme caution and report anything unusual immediately. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Chief Inspector. Passing the overturned ambulance now, sir. It looks like it was thrown down the road and scrapped along on its side for about thirty meters. I can see one fatality inside the cab. We're approaching the main accident sight... I'm getting out and proceeding on foot. There's wreckage scattered everywhere and... Two girls. Sir, there's two civilian girls here... er... in bikinis."

"Car 43, can you see anyone else in the area?"

"Negative sir, just the two girls."

"Are either of them carrying anything?"

"Er... negative, sir. They're just, um, smiling."

"Is there any sign of any weapon with them?"

"Negative sir. One of them is walking towards me."

"Describe her."

"Um.. she's about seventeen years old, below-shoulder-length black hair, 1 meter 75 tall, um... gorgeous.... About to question her, sir... Miss, I need to ask you a few questions... Miss? Mi-Aaaaaggghhhhh!"



"These two are mine." Lyda had pointed out at the latest Earther vehicle approached. Tara did not argue as the thing was clearly on the shorter girl's side of the line. It slowed almost to a halt as it passed the big white square vehicle lying on its side and then continued to advance towards them. They watched as the thing stopped altogether and one of the two males inside climbed out.

He was talking into a communicator. Both girls could clearly hear every word of his conversation. Someone was obviously keen to know more about them. Lyda set off at a leisurely stroll to greet the new arrival, grinning as she listened to the description of her that the Earther was passing on. She stopped a step away from him, noting with satisfaction the slight bulge in the groin area of his garments that she was causing.

Lyda waited for the Earther to speak, hoping that he might have something interesting to say. Instead, he told her he wanted to ask her something. She'd had enough of these creatures asking her questions. It was boring. She didn't allow him to repeat the request but instead leant leisurely towards him, reaching out with her right hand and taking a grip on the prominent lump protruding from his crotch.

She gripped tight, lifting the male completely off the ground by his genitals as he screamed in agony. Her beautiful face revealed no trace of any strain as she held his considerable weight on the end of her slim arm, his crazed thrashing about not affecting her hold on him in the slightest. She let him struggle against her for a moment before, with a sexy sneer on her lips, she casually tossed him backwards over her shoulder.

It was quite a while before the body hit the Earth some distance behind her. Lyda used her sensitive hearing to detect the instant when it crashed down. She did not bother to turn and watch her latest victim's final flight. She was already staring at the male still sitting in the most recently-arrived vehicle. She did however manage to cheerfully update her friend with the latest score in their game: "That’s 2 each now."



"Car 43! Car 43! Respond please! What happened to the officer?"

"Base! This is 43! She killed him! I don't know how but she just picked him up and threw him! He went like a fuc- sorry, Chief Inspector, like a rocket. Oh my god! This can't be happening. That little chick just killed Daniel!"

"Calm down, officer. Please confirm what you just said. One of the civilian girls murdered your partner?"

"Yes, sir! She killed him. She fuc- sorry, sir."

"Stay calm, man. What weapon did she use?"

"No... no weapon sir.... just her.... just her hand... Oh god, sir, she's walking towards me... Oh fuck... oh no..."

"Officer! Get a grip! Officer! Officer? Car 43! Car 43! Can you hear me?"



Tara watched, fascinated, as Lyda coolly walked towards the Earther vehicle. She overheard the communication between the Earther seated at the controls and his disbelieving superior. The taller girl felt an intense thrill as she anticipated her friend's next move. It was such a turn-on to see her wielding such power, her beautiful body concealing almost unlimited strength. Tara knew that her own stunning frame was equally as unstoppable, and the knowledge thrilled her.

The dark-haired teenager's desirable body was now just a step away from the Earther vehicle. Tara watched the male inside squirming nervously in his seat and smiled. It was wonderful the way she and Lyda had such an effect on the creatures of this planet. She glanced lustfully at her friend's pert rear as the shorter girl bent over at the waist, spreading her long arms wide at her sides.

As Lyda’s pretty fingers slowly began to sink into the yielding, groaning metal of the front of the vehicle, Tara sensuously bit her lower lip. She could almost feel the way her lover’s beautiful, feminine arms were overpowering the resistance of the steel. The clear panic of the male inside only added to the impression of Lyda’s dominance. Tara knew it was a matter of mere instants before the petite girl conquered the machine entirely and proved her superiority over both vehicle and its occupant. The taller girl released her lip and let her mouth remain slightly open, her perfect, sexy teeth exposed as she watched her friend’s every move.



"Sir, the girl is right in front of me. She’s bending over the front of the car like she’s about to… Jesus Christ! Her hands are squeezing the metal like fucking dough! Oh my god! I don’t believe this! She’s lifting up the car! Fuck! Fuck! She’s picked up the car, sir! With me in it! Oh fuck! She’s just holding me and the car out in front of her. Jesus, she’s smiling."

"Officer, stay calm. Remember your training! A police officer under threat is authorized to use his weapon."

His gun! Of course! Claude was in such a state having witnessed his partner’s extraordinary murder and the amazing assault on his car that he had almost completely forgotten about the pistol in the holster on his belt. With trembling fingers, he reached for it, his eyes remaining fixed on the teenage girl whose remarkable body filled his windscreen. He pointed the weapon at her lovely face and received nothing but a look of bored disinterest from her in return.

He was too scared now for warning shots. He didn’t even think about opening the side window. He shot at the girl, aiming for the centre of her forehead, through the windshield. The range was point-blank. He couldn’t miss. After the gun went off he saw the hole at the centre of the spider-web crack the bullet left in the glass between him and the girl. And he saw the girl. She had not moved. There wasn’t a mark anywhere on her flawless complexion.

Terrified, his mind tried to reassure him that the shot had been a dud. He fired off another. Another crack appeared in the windshield. He thought he saw something glinting briefly against the teenager’s cheek, but she didn’t blink. The blood seemed to drain from his face. Had he just witnessed a bullet bouncing off his stunning young woman’s features without leaving so much as a scratch?

"Car 43! What’s going on? I can hear gunfire. Car 43! Report please."

Claude brought the radio’s microphone to his lips. "I’ve just shot her twice in the face from a meter and nothing happened. Oh Christ, what the fuck is going on here?"

"Car 43! Repeat please."

"The bitch is fucking bullet-proof. She’s a fucking indestructible monster… Sir."

"Car 43. Are you saying you shot the civilian without wounding her?.... Car 43! Car 43!"

"Sir, keep the other men away from here! Keep everyone away from here… She’s the one… She did all th-"



With her arms spread wide, Lyda got a good hold of the front of the vehicle, her hands compressing the metal beneath them to create custom grips. She raised her arms. The frame of the vehicle creaked loudly as it struggled against strains for which it had not been designed. Lyda’s arms, however, felt no strains at all as they fluidly lifted the whole, unbalanced Earther machine, together with the male inside it, from the ground. She held it out in front of herself for a moment, so that Tara could see her exercising her strength.

Her posing gave the Earther – her next point in the game she was playing against Tara – a few extra instants to panic. The shorter girl felt a shiver of excitement at the sight of the male and his vehicle both completely at her mercy. She listened to his frantic commentary on her actions, savouring the terror she instilled. When he pulled out his useless noisy weapon, she rolled her eyes and let him take a couple of shots without bothering to move out of the way of the two little bits of metal that floated slowly towards her. She allowed them to bounce harmlessly off her face, barely noticing either of the two impacts.

She then waited for the Earther’s reaction to the failure of his pathetic firearm. As amusing as that was – at first – she soon realized that she was bored with the male. It was time to claim her point. She raised her arms, the vehicle they supported rising effortlessly with them. She was about to slam the metal contraction down into the ground when she suddenly stopped. She hardly noticed the weight of vehicle and Earther as she held it over her head and stared intently at the horizon.



Legrand had heard enough. Much more than enough. There was a cop-killer on the loose. Worse than that, there were so many details of the snatched reports he’d heard that didn’t make sense. It was as if something supernatural was happening out there on the highway. Something terrible. Something evil. He had to stop the stream of emergency vehicles to the scene. He needed weapons specialists, not unarmed paramedics and firemen.

He looked around the dispatch room. All eyes were on him. The sense of dread that filled the air was palpable. If there was ever a time he needed to show authority, this was it. "Sergeant," he addressed the young lady seated nearby.

"Yes sir?" the dispatch girl answered, her voice trembling. "Raise the ambulance and fire crews. Tell them to turn around immediately."

"Yes sir."

"You." Legrand pointed to another fresh-faced radio operator. "Get me the Minister of the Interior. Now!"

"Yes sir."



Tara was in awe of the way Lyda looked, holding the Earther vehicle above her head, her slim body erect and proud as it carried the weight with no sign of any difficulty. She could feel her loins responding to the sight and realized that Lyda’s superhuman nostrils would soon notice. From her station behind the brunette, she could not see her friend’s sly grin as the scent of her arousal wafted over, but she could hear the wicked amusement in her voice when she spoke.


"Yes, Lyda?" Tara was practically panting as she responded.

"Can you see the square white vehicle heading towards us?"

"Yes I can."

"It’s on my side of the line."

"Yes it is, Lyda."

"And it’s got three Earthers in it. Can you see them? Two in the front, one in the back."

"Yes, I can see them."

"Well, that’s one here-" Lyda raised and lowered the vehicle she was holding out above her head, making the male inside bounce around helplessly "-and three over there. I think they should meet up."

"That’s a lovely idea, Lyda."



The ambulance sped as fast as it’s complaining engine could be pushed. The three men inside sat in silence, all anticipating the scene they might discover at the end of their journey. The driver’s eyes were fixed on the empty, straight, flat road ahead. Alongside him, his colleague scanned the horizon for any sign of the multiple-crash-site whilst a paramedic sat strapped into one of the seats in the back besides two empty stretchers which he expected to soon be filled.

No-one showed any surprise when the dashboard loudspeaker sounded. "Base to medi-crew two. Base to medi-crew two."

The driver flicked a switch and spoke, his reply captured by a microphone mounted above his head. "This is medi-crew two. We’re almost on-site now. Can’t see anything yet."

"Medi-crew two, I have new instructions. Repeat: I have new instructions. Turn around immediately and return to your hospital. I say again: Medi-crew two, turn around immediately!"

That was the last thing any of the three men in the ambulance expected to hear. The driver spoke for all of them. "Base, we’re almost on site now. We’re fully equipped to attend to any traffic incident and-"

"Medi-crew two. This order comes from Chief Inspector Legrand. Turn around immediately."

"OK, base." The driver eased his foot off the accelerator pedal and onto the breaks. "We’re turning around n- What the fuck is t-".



The dispatch girl threw her headphones down on the desk in front of her. The sound of static emerging from the earpieces was clearly audible to those around her, even above her uncontrollable sobs. An older colleague, approached her, placed a friendly arm around her and tried to comfort her. "It’s OK." he said, simply.

"No. No it’s not OK" the girl answered, tearfully. "I think we’ve lost the ambulance crew as well. What’s going on?"

The Chief Inspector hurried across the room. "You lost contact with the medi-crew?" he asked.

"Yes, Chief Inspector." the young lady sniffed.

"What was the last communication you had with them?"

"I… I told them to turn around, sir. They said they were turning and then… then… oh my god!"

"Please, try and remain professional." The Chief Inspector berated, insensitively. "What exactly did the medi-crew radio operator say?"

"He said; ‘What the fuck is t-‘, sir, and then it went to static. What’s happening, sir?"

"That’s what we’re trying to establish." Legrand turned and spoke to the room in general. "Have we managed to raise the fire-crew yet?"



An easy pull-back on Lyda’s long arms prepared her to launch the vehicle she was carrying. An equally effortless thrusting forwards of those arms, combined with the removal of her hands from the front of the machine, sent the Earther vehicle rocketing away from her at speeds several times greater than any its engine could match on the ground. Such was the power of the sexy teenager’s toss that the machine flew almost parallel with the ground, hardly arcing at all as it zoomed like a missile towards the distant square, white vehicle.

Lyda’s superhuman eyes saw how the initial jolt as she released the thing proved too much for the Earther in the vehicle. They also observed the way the males in the white vehicle only just noticed the object hurtling towards them at the last moment. Long, long after it was too late for them to do anything about it. She grinned ecstatically as the sight of the distant collision was made as if near by her fantastic visual abilities.

She observed in detail as the vehicle she had thrown slammed into the front of the square, white one. There was so much momentum in the smaller machine that it carved, like a sharp blade, right through the larger one, destroying everything within in an instant, before bursting out the rear in a shower of metal and shards of the brittle, transparent material that Earthers were so fond of. A moment later, the big vehicle exploded. A ball of orange flame swallowed up everything in its path, including the smaller machine. Chunks of metal rained down over a wide area of ground as the fire continued to burn.

Tara also watched the destruction closely. She looked from the flaming remains of the two vehicles to the girl who had demolished them. Slowly, she traced the tip of her tongue over her ripe lips. "Oh, Lyda!" she breathed, lustfully.

Her friend turned back to her, a triumphant smile still lighting up her exquisite features. "I believe that makes the score six-two to me."

"Oh, Lyda!" Tara repeated, sexual desire dripping from her words.

"I know, Tara, I know." Lyda answered. "But the game’s not finished yet."

Tara turned her head to scan the vista behind her, trying to see what the brunette meant by the game not being finished. She spotted it soon enough. "Oooh!" she said, with mock excitement, "A big, red one! How many points is that worth? Let’s see. I count one.. two…"

"Four" interrupted Lyda. "I already counted." Tara smiled. She couldn’t resist the temptation to run the fingers of one hand across the engorged points of her heaving chest. Lyda saw it, and found herself almost shaking with desire. Meanwhile, Tara had already set off at a sprint towards the huge, brightly-coloured vehicle.



Fireman Bercy turned to his colleague who was still fiddling with the controls on the front of the in-cab radio. "I wouldn’t bother, Laurent. You’re not going to get anywhere with that. I told you before. We’re out of range. It’s an old model. They only work in town, not out here."

"That’s so typical of the department – trying to save money in all the places it’s most needed."

"Ah, relax, man. Why’s everything got to be political with you? Once we liaise with the other units on the scene, we’ll know exactly what to do."

"I’d feel better if we could receive instructions now."

"Why? What do you think they’re going to say? They’d just tell us to continue to the crash site anyway."

"Yeah, probably, I gue- Did you see that?"


"A streak on the road, up ahead!"

"Oh yeah! What is that?"

"It’s headed this way… oh shit!" Bercy instinctively slammed on the brakes. He knew it was probably too late, but it was the only reaction he could show. It didn’t make any sense. The girl just seemed to materialize out of the blur of light that had been rushing towards them, suddenly materializing right in the middle of the road, just meters in front of them. The fire-truck’s tires screeched as they scrapped along the surface of the road, friction heating them until smoke began to rise. Still they moved forwards.

Bercy slammed his fist down on the horn, but the blast of sound had no effect on the scantily-clad pedestrian. She remained utterly motionless, her hands placed defiantly on her shapely hips, her face showing none of the dread and horror that was evident in the features of both Bercy and Laurent. Where the hell had she appeared from? It didn’t make sense. The two men in the cab of the fire-engine covered their eyes to protect themselves from the gory sight they were convinced they were about to witness.



Tara stopped running a few paces short of the slowly-moving red vehicle. She wanted the males in the front to have enough time to see her, so that she could enjoy their shocked reactions. She was not disappointed. Knowing enough of these machines to be confident that it would be unable to halt before it collided with her, she put her hands on her hips and thrust out her gloriously erotic chest, delighting in the panic she observed inside the vehicle.

The moments that passed before the thing hit her were an agonizing wait for the young superhuman temptress. Tara was still amazed at how slowly the Earther machine moved. Yet despite that, it lacked a mechanism to make it stop. Finally, the gap between vehicle and girl closed. Finally, the front of the huge, red device ploughed into her.

Or rather she ploughed into the front of the device. For whilst the vehicle continued to move forward under its own momentum, the slim girl remained motionless, her feet planted seemingly unmovingly on the ground. The steel of the machine pressed against her body and found it had met more than its match. With nowhere to go, trapped between its movement and the ungiving flesh of a sexy teenage girl, the vehicle simply had to yield. The metal began to fold up around and against her body.

Her chest led the attack, a huge area of the machine crumpling up against her proud, rounded breasts, the feminine flesh proving vastly more resilient that mere iron and steel. The metal that met her stomach fared no better, the girl’s slim belly providing an impassable wall against which the vehicle could do no more than wad up in total surrender.

As an ever-growing pile of compressed steel built up in front of her, Tara was forced to use her ability to see through objects to watch the two Earthers in the front portion of the vehicle being crushed inside their rapidly-shrinking little box. She saw the two in the back thrown forwards by the machine’s sudden stop, noting with no little satisfaction how the collision with what was left of the front of the vehicle killed them instantly. And still, the vehicle continued to compact against her body.

With an effortless sweep of her hand, almost as if she were swatting away an insect, Tara overpowered the forward momentum of the huge red machine, and knocked it away from her. The metal that had moulded itself to her body was cast aside with ridiculous ease by her one-armed gesture. The ruined vehicle finished about ten paces away from her, suddenly silenced. She stared at it for a moment, admiring her handiwork. All she had done was to stand still and let it hit her, and the result was this: total destruction. Her power was fantastic!

"That was awesome!" enthused a voice at her side. Tara turned and saw her friend standing just a few paces from her.

"Hey! You’re in my zone!" Tara protested, although secretly she was delighted that Lyda had joined her.

"I know. But there’s no more Earthers around at the moment."

"Oh? Did we break them all, Lyda?"

"Looks like it, Tara."

"That’s a shame."

"Oh, I’m sure they’ll be more along soon. In the meantime, I was thinking..."

"Yes, Lyda?"

"Well, seeing as the score is six-all, perhaps this would be a good time to take a break from the game?"

"A break?" Tara enquired, raising one of her beautiful eyebrows. The two girls were facing each other. Slowly, inexorably, they were moving towards each other.

"Yes, a break." Lyda reiterated.

"And what would we do during the break?" Tara asked, her eyes practically aglow with suggestive glints.

"Oh, I don’t know…" Lyda answered, taking another step towards her lover. Both girls were already reaching for each other.



Chief Inspector Legrand sat in his private office, the telephone receiver pressed against his ear. He was halfway through the most bizarre conversation of his life.

"No, Minister, we raised the ambulance, but something happened before they could turn around. It was the fire-crew we were unable to contact. We don’t know if they have been lost, but I must assume given the circumstances that-"

"Chief Inspector, you must appreciate my position here. You are asking me to mobilize the army against… well, against a girl in a bikini."

"Two girls, Madame Minister." Legrand corrected. "We have eye-witness reports of the downing of a helicopter and at least one murder."

"But to send in the army? Don’t you have any more information you can give me? I’m not sure the military will appreciate what you have told me so far."

"Madame, I have no more information. It would appear that all the personnel who have been sent to the scene are now dead. I can only assume-"

"Assume… assume. We are basing a lot on your assumptions, Chief Inspector. Very well, I will contact the military authorities. Keep your men away from the area until you hear from me. One thing, though: if this ends embarrassingly for me, I promise you, you will pay with your job."

"Madame Minister, I assure you I am only carrying out my duty, as you will be when you call the army."

"I hope you are right Chief Inspector. Goodbye." The harsh click in his ear told Legrand the conversation had been terminated. He replaced the telephone receiver on its cradle.

"I hope I’m wrong." He whispered to himself.



"Oooh! Do that again!"

"What? That?"

"Mmmmm! Yes, that!"

"You like it when I squeeze you there?"

"Oh yes!"

"What about there?"

"Oooh! That’s even better!"

"Hey, Tara! Imagine what would happen if I squeezed an Earther like that!"

"Ha! Ha! Why don’t you find out when the next ones get here? As long as they’re in your zone, of course."

"Of course, Tara. We must stick to the rules."

"Absolutely Lyda. Absolutely."


Conceptfan, May 2005.

Chapter 8



"Hah! I knew you’d like that, Lyda!"

"Oh, it feels so good. Tara, I never - aiiieeee - knew that you - mmmmm - had such a gifted - ooooh - such a gifted tongue!"

"Well, I do speak every language on Earth, you know…"

"So do - Oh - I!"

"Then maybe you have a gifted tongue too."

"You’re - mmmmmmm - right! Maybe I - oh oh oh - do. I’ll have to try - aiiiieeeee - it out on you. Once you’re - oooooh - finished with - mmmmm - me."

"What a great idea! That should keep us busy until the next batch of Earthers arrive."

"And then we - Oh - can continue our - ah ah ah ah - our game."

"Of course, Lyda. Maybe you can show them how gifted your tongue is."

"Oh, that would - uh - be a lovely - uh uh uh - idea. Oh, Oh Oh! Oh yes, Tara! Oh yes! Yes! Yyyyyeeeeeeesssssssss!"



"I have provided you with the facts as they have been relayed to me, General. All we know is that there seem to be two individuals with some kind of weapon and some kind of protection from hand-guns who have been attacking and destroying emergency service vehicles. As I have already explained, it is not possible for you or I or anyone else to speak with anybody at the incident site. All communications links have been severed. Judging by the eye-witness reports, all emergency services personnel at the scene have been killed. I cannot ask the local Chief of Police to continue sending a stream of his men to their deaths."

"But, with all due respect, Madame Minister, I similarly cannot dispatch a platoon of men without proper information. What you have told me makes no sense! Am I supposed to mobilise a garrison to investigate reports of a girl in a bikini lifting and throwing a car? Madame, is there not a possibility that the police have fallen victim to a hoax?"

"General, I have already considered that possibility. I have eyewitness reports of corpses on the scene, of the downing of a police helicopter and of the murder of several men. So far, at least fourteen men are unaccounted for. There would appear to be a very real danger to the general population and it is my duty to deal with it. Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to remind you of your duty to the elected Minister of the Interior?"

"Madame! Please do not think that I am questioning the Government. I am merely trying to establish the basis on which my men are to be mobilised."

"Then let me tell you in the most precise terms, General. You are to mobilise all garrisoned personnel within a fifty kilometre radius of the incident site. They should establish who is responsible for the police deaths and arrest, or failing that, neutralise the hostile party. Do you think your men are up to the task, General?"

"My men are ready to fight a war, Madame! I am quite sure they will be able to cope with a couple of civilians. Whatever armoury was used against the police firearms will not be able to withstand automatic weapons. But are you certain that we should mobilise so many men?"

"Once again, I must remind you that there have been over a dozen deaths already. I want whoever’s responsible contained - and fast. I will not stand accused of allowing a massacre through inaction! You have your instructions, General. Please ensure that they are carried out to the letter."

"Of course, Madam Minister. Right away."



Chief Inspector Legrand marched briskly down the police-station corridor. A man of his status could not be seen to run. It did not suit the dignity of his office, nor would it help quell the atmosphere of confusion and semi-panic that had engulfed everyone around him. The men needed authority. His authority.

It hadn’t taken long to transform the station’s little-used conference room into a "Major Incident HQ". Two spare radio posts had been set up and a line of five emergency-circuit telephones. A map of the incident site had been affixed to one wall. A small cluster of coloured pins had been arranged near the centre of the plan. Blue pins marked the last known location of police vehicles, white pins represented the two lost ambulances, and a red pin indicated where the fire-engine had disappeared. There was also a black tack for the downed helicopter and two greens representing civilian vehicles.

Legrand pushed open the swing doors and let them close behind him. The nervous chatter of personnel assembled in the "Major Incident HQ" died down instantly. Two dozen expectant faces turned to the Chief Inspector. Now was the time for him to show why he had been chosen for such lofty rank. He moved quickly over to the wall-map, and pointed at the group of pins. With effort, he managed to retain an exterior air of calm control as he addressed the room:

"Colleagues, as you are aware, there is a major incident still in progress centred around this point on the highway. A number of our personnel have been reported as dead and more are currently unaccounted for. I realise that some of you may be mourning the loss of comrades and friends, but I must remind you all that your duty at this time is to protect the public. There will be time for reflection later."

Legrand glanced around the room, meeting a few pairs of eyes on the way, ensuring that his words had reached their target. Then he continued. "About twenty minutes ago, I spoke with the Minister for the Interior. She has taken the decision to hand responsibility for neutralising any hostile presence at the incident site to the army. Our task is now fully focussed on ensuring that the public is not placed at risk." The relief around the room was almost audible. None of those present fancied the chance to become yet another blue pin on the map.

"In conjunction with the following prefectures," the Chief Inspector went on to list the neighbouring police areas, "our responsibility is to make sure that the public are kept away from the key zone. Towards that aim, roadblocks are to be set-up and patrolled -" he pointed at the map, "- here, here, here and here. We are assigning four cars and eight men to each roadblock. No-one - and I mean no-one - is to be allowed through. And that includes the media. Am I being understood?"

A silent chorus of nods showed that he had, indeed, been understood by his audience. Legrand selected eight men from those present. "You will be manning the northern block. Do not go any further down the road than the agreed point and, whatever else, do not let anyone pass the roadblock. You have full authority to use reasonable force to arrest and detain anyone who tries to enter the exclusion zone. Everyone else, keep on top of incoming communications and await further instructions. Any questions?"

There were none. The Chief Inspector left the room as briskly as he had entered, heading straight for the luxurious solitude of his office. If the Minister called him back, he wanted to take the call on his private line. And besides, there was a bottle of extremely fine cognac locked in a cupboard in his room…



The alert siren had been sounding for a full minute already. The entire base was alive with activity. Most of the men were already lined up on the parade ground. Others, fresh from bed and still tugging on shirts and jackets were joining every second.

"Move!" Colonel Ferraud yelled at the stragglers in his loudest, harshest tone. "This is not a drill! Get in line!" He didn’t wait more than a few moments for the late-comers. Men were still getting into their columns as he spoke.

"Gentlemen, a hostile force is killing policemen on the highway ten k. from here. The government has asked us to intervene and neutralise. I repeat that this is not a drill."

The assembled soldiers were too disciplined to react audibly to the Colonel’s words. Slightly unnecessarily, he revealed the other reason for the urgency he was trying to instil: "Men are being sent from two other garrisons. This is your opportunity to show that all the training you’ve received hasn’t been a waste of time. I expect my men to be the first on the scene and to have the situation under control before the other garrisons arrive."

Ferraud knew that such opportunities were rare. If his men did their job well and cleaned up whatever mess the civilian authorities had gotten themselves into, his career would certainly not be harmed. If they could complete the entire operation before the other garrisons’ troops even arrived, then it would be even better. By all accounts, he and Colonel Gerbert were still neck-and-neck in the running for promotion. What better chance would he get to finally get one over on his old rival?

Colonel Ferraud directed his sergeants to assign their men to vehicles. "Get going!" he screamed as soon as the first jeep was almost ready. "Hurry up!" he yelled at the men climbing into the back of one of two trucks. "Move!" he shouted, banging on the driver’s door of the other truck.



Tara lay on her back, her hand lying across her perfect, flat belly, one knee slightly raised serving to accentuate the shapely beauty of her long leg. Her eyes were closed, but there was little other sign that she was still recovering from the highs of the tremendous orgasm her friend had brought her to.

She was not panting. On Earth, neither she, nor Lyda, were ever short of breath. That was just one more aspect of the wonderful, goddess-like abilities they possessed in this alien dimension. The frantic glory of her peak hadn’t even caused her to sweat. Similarly, Lyda showed no sign of her own passionate exertions. They did not perspire when they were in this world. Their stunning teenaged bodies seemed to handle any effort with comfort and ease.

Tara sighed contentedly. She felt so wonderful here. Now, basking in the afterglow of Lyda’s ministrations, she was in a physical heaven. But, she considered, she seemed to feel great the whole time she was on Earth. Pain, strain, hotness, tiredness… they had left all these sensations behind when they transported to Earth. All that they could feel here was pleasure.

Lyda seemed to read her mind. "I love it here, Tara," she said, smiling down from her seated position beside her friend. Lyda brushed a few strands of jet-black shiny straight hair from in front of her eye, tucking them behind her ear. "I love feeling this way. I love feeling so wonderful all the time!"

"Me too," Tara concurred. "And I love being made love to by a goddess."

Lyda chuckled. "Me too," she echoed. Then after a pause, she added, "We really are goddesses here, aren’t we?"

"Oh yes!" agreed Tara. "We’re so powerful. So strong!"

"I just love watching you showing off your strength on the Earthers and their machines," the darker-haired girl confessed.

"I like watching you too." Tara said. "They’re so feeble and so fragile! It makes me hot just thinking about how powerful you are - we are - in comparison!"

"Yeah," Lyda warmed further to the subject, "seeing you swatting them like insects really gets me going, too."


There was a brief gap in the conversation as both girls lost themselves in thoughts of each other’s limitless power over the planet’s natives. After a while, Tara commented "Isn’t it great the way Earthers react when they see their weapons don’t work on us?"

"Yeah," Lyda agreed, "it’s so funny when they think they can actually hurt us!" Both girls laughed, sharing memories.

"You know the way they look at you…" Tara began, once she had regained her composure, "…when they think you should be bleeding or whatever and you’re just standing there…"

"Yes," said Lyda.

"It’s such a turn-on to see them looking at you like that. You know… like they’re in awe of you…"

"It’s the same for me when they look at you that way. Makes you look even more of a sexy goddess!"

Tara smiled. She liked being called a sexy goddess. Especially when the person calling her that was a sexy goddess herself.



"All ready, Colonel!" the lieutenant saluted.

"Good," pronounced Colonel Gerbert. He looked up at the array of assembled vehicles. Five jeeps and three trucks, their engines growling in neutral stood poised for his order to move.

He was pleased at the speed with which fifty armed, combat ready men, had been scrambled. Of course, he’d been as efficient as ever briefing them. There was no time to waste on unnecessary words. Not when emergency orders had been issued from the very top.

"Move out!" he yelled at the nearest driver. The jeep crunched into gear and lurched forward towards the open barrier that separated the garrison from the side-road leading to the highway. The other vehicles followed in tight formation, roaring past him until all the noise and dust subsided and the base was quiet and empty.

Colonel Gerbert glanced at his expensive watch. If his men drove as fast as they could, he calculated, then there was a real chance that they might beat Colonel Ferraud’s men to the scene. He was aware that a third garrison had also been mobilised, but knew enough local geography to realise that its soldiers could not possibly arrive until some time after both his own and those dispatched by Ferraud.

Seeing as all they were being asked to do was take-out a couple of civilians who’d gone beserk with a rocket launcher or some similar weapon, he had little doubt that his soldiers could complete the task without help from his rivals’ troops. He knew how well that would go down in the capital. Things like that could make a big difference to a career.



"Tara! Can you hear that? Tara? Tara!"


"Can you hear that?"

"How I am supposed to hear anything with your thighs clamped over my ears? Oh! Wait a moment… yes! I can hear it! Earther vehicles!"

"Lots and lots of Earther vehicles!"

"Oh, how exciting!" said Tara with almost child-like glee.

"Yeah," agreed Lyda, "Loads of opportunities for you to look like a sexy goddess for me!"

Tara smiled and lifted her beautiful head clear of Lyda’s silky warm lap. "Hey! That’s not fair! You have to be a goddess for me, too!"

Lyda grinned back at her lover. In less than an instant, her superhuman sense of hearing and unworldly speed of thought detected, separated and analysed the sounds of thirteen distant, primitive engines. "They’re coming from two directions!" she exclaimed, delightedly.

Tara caught on to the implications of Lyda’s discovery. "Well, that makes it much easier to share them out," she observed. "You can have all the Earthers coming from that side, and I’ll have the ones coming from over there."

"Seems fair to me," the shorter girl agreed, with a mischievous glint in her eye. "We could carry on with the game we were playing earlier."

"What a great idea!" trilled Tara, climbing swiftly and smoothly to her feet.

Lyda stood up equally gracefully beside her. "Shall we pick the score up at six-all?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," said Tara with a wicked grin. "We must play by the rules!" She and Tara adjusted their tiny two-piece outfits, re-covering the intimacies they had uncovered together. Unspeakingly, they both seemed to be acknowledging that there were some things that no Earther was fit to gaze upon.

Despite that understanding, when they stood fully clothed in their native costumes, there was only a very small portion of either girl that was not on glorious display. Sexy faces with generous pouting lips that parted erotically to reveal sexy white teeth. Beneath, their garments clung tight to their perfect, voluptuous yet slender, nubile bodies and left exquisite long limbs, flawless flat abdomens, enticing hips and glorious firm thighs visible. And cleavage. Breath-taking, superhumanly firm, moment-of-ripeness cleavage.

Both girls boasted magnificent large, rounded busts that thrust arrogantly outwards from their torsos. Only the solid, proud nipples at the centre of each breast and the outer and under arcs of their bosoms were covered by the thin, sheer fabric of their upper garments. These tops clung to the spherical perfection of their charges so tightly that the shape of every stunning nuance and curve of the flesh they adorned was visible.

Much of the two girls' breasts were left uncovered. The silky wonder of their feminine skin was there for even Earthers to see. Each of them presented a dramatic, deep and narrow cleavage that only superhuman poise and musculature could bring about. The slopes either side of those glorious valleys were flawless beyond Earther comprehension, their blemish-free complexion perfectly sun kissed. And so very, very, round.

Lyda finished adjusting her clothes first and narrowed her stunning eyes at the horizon. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "I can already see my ones! This is going to be so much fun!"



"What's your location now, Sergeant?"

"We're 2k from the incident site, sir. ETA under 2 minutes."

"Do you have any visual yet?"

"Negative, sir."

"Sergeant, police reports say your targets may well be female civilians. Be alert. Trust no-one."

"Roger, sir."

"Report in as soon as you see anything."




"Oh, that's interesting." announced Lyda.

"What is?" her friend asked.

"You see the Earther in the lead vehicle?"

"The one with the green eyes at the front or the one with the blue eyes next to him?" Tara wondered.

"The green-eyed one. He's talking on his communicator."

"I know. I can see. And hear."

"Did you hear what the creature on the other end of the communicator-thingie said? That their 'targets' could be female civilians?" asked Lyda.

"Yes. Of course I did. I can hear every word. So what?"

"Well, do you think he might mean us, Tara? Do you think we're 'targets'?"

"Oh, now you mention it, I suppose he probably did mean us. I mean, there's just us here and the two groups of Earthers..."

"Three groups," Lyda corrected. "There's another batch coming down the path behind my ones. I can hear their engines. They must be quite a long way behind..."

"That's so unfair!" pouted Tara. Lyda caught the sultry look on her lover's face and felt a tingle in her loins. Just a faint reminder of the many orgasms the girl with the light brown hair had provoked that day. "There's two batches on your side and only one on mine. That's not going to make a very competitive game!" Tara complained.

At that moment, staring into Tara's features, Lyda would have offered anything to please her friend. Her mind raced to find a solution, and found one with lightening speed. "They’re so far behind the others," Lyda pointed out, "and knowing how pathetic those engines are, it'll be ages before the third lot get here. Why don't we just play with the first two batches for now and then we can share the last bunch when they finally get here"

Immediately, Tara's expression lit up. The pout was replaced by a dazzling display of perfect teeth as she grinned. Lyda found the smile just as attractive as the scowl had been. Tara didn't need to say "Yes! Let's do that!" But she did, anyway.

Lyda grinned back at her, her own teeth just as flawless as her lover's. "So, all these Earthers are converging on us because we're targets!" Lyda changed the subject, if only very slightly. "I wonder why?"

"Maybe it's because of the other ones we were playing with earlier," Tara theorised. "These ones are coming to see whatever happened to the last lot."

"So, you mean," Lyda said, taking the concept to a particularly cruel conclusion, "the more we destroy, the more they'll keep sending?" Her eyes were aglow with an unmistakable glint.

It stirred something in Tara to see the shorter girl's obvious glee. "Maybe," she said.

"Let's find out!" breathed Lyda.



"What's your ETA, Corporal?"

"Approximately ten minutes, Colonel."

"Ten? Ferraud's boys'll get their first at this rate! Dammit! Tell your driver to go flat out!"

"Yes sir!"

"Report anything you see to me immediately and detain any civilians you encounter regardless of age or sex."

"OK sir."

"And corporal?"

"Yes sir?"


"Yes sir!"



"He still hasn't seen us, Tara!"


"The green-eyed Earther. He's using those funny lens things and he still hasn't seen us. What pathetic eyesight they have!"

"What are those things so many of them are carrying?" asked Tara.

"Weapons I guess," answered Lyda.

"They won't work on us," the taller girl commented with absolute certainty.

"Of course they won't! This is Earth. Nothing works on us here. But the Earthers don't seem to realise that."

"Then you'll just have to show them, Lyda," Tara said, her voice suddenly heavy with lust.

"Well, if you insist..." teased Lyda, grinning wickedly. A moment later she announced "Green-eyes is on the communicator again! I think he's finally seen something..."



"Sir, I have a visual."

"Go ahead, Sergeant."

"A civilian ambulance on its side next to the road. A piece of another civilian vehicle... a taxi I think, sir. An overturned squad car... looks like it was hit by several cars or something."

"Any signs of life, Sergeant?"

"Negative. Just the veh- wait a moment. Affirmative sir! Two civilians standing in the road. Colonel, they're... they're chicks! In bikinis!"

"Sergeant, tell your men to surround them immediately. Intercept, arrest or neutralise them."

"Y-yes sir."

Sergeant Thompson switched the frequency on his walkie-talkie and relayed his orders to the rest of the company. Then he turned to his driver. "I can't believe they've sent us to pick up a couple of hot chicks!" he shouted. The driver flashed him a smile. The jeep jumped twice in quick succession as something went under the front and then the rear tyres. "What was that?" Thompson yelled.

"A piece of a car, I think," the driver shouted back. "There's more and more debris on the road the closer we get."

The sergeant looked for himself. He saw something dark blue flashing past. A bit of police uniform. With a bit of policeman still in it. The driver had to serve to avoid some parts of two other corpses. Possibly three. It was hard to tell. "What the hell happened here?" Thompson asked out loud. The driver did not answer. Behind them, the other vehicles in the convoy were beginning to fan out and leave the road, preparing to carry out their instructions and surround the two civilians that the Sergeant had spotted.



"Look, they're spreading out," Lyda observed.

"They're going to try and surround us. That's what green-eyes said."

"Shall we let them?"

"It's up to you. They're your Earthers, remember. I get the next batch. I'm just, um, watching for now." Tara answered.

Lyda said nothing. She stood, facing the convoy of on-rushing vehicles. Despite the scale of the group preparing to challenge her - five smaller, open-topped machines with four men in each and two, large, long transporters, twelve men seated in the back of one and fourteen in the other - she was calm. She knew she had nothing to fear from forty-six Earthers or their weapons. She decided to allow them to encircle herself and Tara. She remained upright, her magnificent body erect, her long shapely arms hanging comfortably by her sides. Her beautiful face betrayed little emotion as she watched the activity all around.

Beside her, their flanks almost touching, Tara was waiting and watching too, her features as unrevealing as her lover's. The taller girl's right leg was slightly bent at the knee, and she rested her hand on her thigh in a relaxed, sexy pose as she observed the approaching Earther vehicles. Her eyes sparkled as they saw through the metal casings of the transporters, allowing her to study the men inside with arrogant disdain.



"Moving into position now around the targets, sir."

"Good work, Sergeant! Any sign of Colonel Gerbert's men?"

"Negative sir."

"Excellent! Proceed with the arrest."

"Yes sir!"



After what seemed an age, the ponderous machines finally reached their intended positions and stopped moving, although their engines kept running. With slow, clumsy movements, the twenty-six Earthers in the back of the two big vehicles climbed out onto the ground. Then they spread out, forming their own circle around the two girls, each man pointing his useless weapon at them.

The men in the opened-topped vehicles stayed in the machines but stood, forming an outer-circle. Most of them also held weapons trained on Tara and Lyda. As the men settled into position, an uncomfortable quiet fell over the scene. Tara broke the silence by asking Lyda in their language "Do you think they're trying to intimidate us?"

"Maybe," Lyda answered with a careless shrug.

"What do you think that thing is?" Tara asked, nodding towards an Earther standing in one of the smaller vehicles. In his hand he held a strange, cone-shaped contraption.

"Some kind of sonic weapon, I think," said Lyda. "Look! He's going to use it!"



Sergeant Thompson brought the megaphone up to his lips and squeezed the lever on its handle to activate it. He stared over the cone of the loudspeaker at the two girls he was addressing. Even from his position thirty metres away, they were stunningly beautiful. Dressed in those tiny bikinis, the top halves of their costumes so deliciously overworked, they looked completely out of place amidst the wreckage and the carnage, surrounded by a ring of two dozen foot soldiers and an outer circle of men in jeeps.

Their hands were empty, Thompson noticed. And, although he checked several times, there was little chance of either of them having concealed a weapon on her person. Such slender, youthful bodies! There seemed no justification for the forty powerful automatic weapons that were being simultaneously aimed at them. What possible danger could two gorgeous young girls represent? Still he had his orders, and those orders said he had to arrest the pair of them. He could think of worse prospects than a ride back to the garrison with these two sitting in the jeep with him.

He spoke into the megaphone, calm and confident in his words. "Put your hands in the air and walk slowly towards me!" he commanded. This was going to be the easiest mission of his entire army career. He found himself hoping that the two girls would not be co-operative, so he would have an excuse to intervene. How he'd love to get his hands on either of those fine, fine bodies!



"Sonic weapon! It's just a shouting machine!" laughed Tara, whilst Lyda responded to the instruction to raise her hands by cocking her head and sneering.

"Hey you! That's no way to talk to a goddess!" Lyda shouted back at the Earther with the amplifier in his own language. Her defiance caused a noticeable shuffling amongst the men all around, and a mass realigning of weapons. Now the barrel of every firearm there was pointed at her slim body.

"I repeat: raise your hand in the air and walk slowly towards me!" the creature barked into his device.

"No. You come towards me." Lyda yelled back. She was surprised to see how quickly the Earther decided to accept her invitation. Almost immediately, he put his shouting machine down and, picking up a weapon, climbed out of his vehicle. He walked through the inner circle of men and lifted his weapon to his eye, taking aim at the darker-haired girl's face as he approached her.

"I have orders to detain you and your, er, colleague." he announced, still peering along the length of his firearm into Lyda's face. "I'd rather take you both back alive, but that's up to you."

"Do you think that's a threat?" Lyda asked Tara, speaking in their own language so that the Earthers wouldn't be able to understand.

"I think so," Tara responded, still using their alien tongue.

"How dare he threaten me. I'm a goddess!" said Lyda.

Confusion flickered across the Earth's face as he tried and failed to understand and then even identify their language. His lack of comprehension of the two girls' conversation was clearly unnerving him, just as Tara and Lyda intended.

"Maybe," said Tara, a trace of wickedness in her voice "he doesn't know that you're a goddess. Perhaps you should show him."

"Yes," agreed Lyda, "perhaps I should."



Thompson was confused. The girl’s response to his surrender order - something about that ‘not being the right way to talk to a goddess’ had slightly unnerved him. He was also perplexed by the two girls’ air of serene calm despite the dozens of machine guns pointed at them. Nevertheless, he couldn’t resist the shorter one’s invitation for him to come towards her. How could anyone turn down an offer to move closer to a body as desirable as hers?

Then, as he was walking towards her, his rifle readied, the pair had started a conversation between themselves in a bizarre unrecognizable language. Were these foreign agents? And why did they seem so relaxed despite all the guns trained on them? He was just ten metres from them now, isolated from his men who remained in formation encircling the gorgeous couple.

The conversation seemed to stop after the darker-haired one grinned and said something to her colleague. The smile seemed out of place. It worried him. It was the smile of someone anticipating something. A mischievous smile. Something did not make sense here. Thompson was becoming increasingly convinced that there was more going on than what met his eye, although even in his state of nervous readiness, he had to admit that what met his eye was very pleasant. Very pleasant indeed.

The darker-haired girl turned her lovely face towards him. "Come closer," she said. That wasn’t right. He was the one who was giving the orders. Not the girl he was supposed to be arresting. At least she’d stopped using that weird language. But her tone added to his discomfort. Sure, he wanted to get closer to her. But not under her terms. He had the gun. And the forty-five armed colleagues. It was time to end the farce.

He stood his ground. "OK. Fun time’s over, princess," he hissed. "You and your friend start walking towards the jeep behind me, now."

"Princess?" said the shorter girl in a mocking tone. "I’m not a princess. I’m a GODDess."

"Whatever, babe," muttered the Sergeant, his patience exhaused. "Now.. Walk!"



Lyda resisted the temptation to laugh at the Earther’s disrespectful tone. Instead, she seemed to be obeying his command. Languidly, her hips swinging erotically, she took a few steps towards him. Tara, meanwhile, remained rooted to the spot. After all, the male was one of Lyda’s. She was only observing for now.

As Lyda moved, the Earther kept his weapon carefully trained on the centre of her face, watching her intently. She could hear his thumping heartbeat. She knew that was partly due to his lust for her. Earth males could not help being hopelessly attracted to her. She was well aware of that. She glanced down, peering through the material of his clothes, and saw the erection her sexy walk was inspiring. She grinned.



Something still wasn’t quite right. The shorter girl had finally obeyed and began to approach him. But her friend wasn’t moving. And the one who was walking didn’t seem to be looking at the jeep he had ordered her towards. She was looking at him. He stared back, hypnotized by the way her sexy body moved as she took each step. So many curves, swinging and bouncing. He felt himself getting hard for her and then, to his embarrassment, noticed the girl glancing down towards his crotch.

She smiled at him, increasing his discomfort. Still she continued to walk forward. But she did not seem to be intending to stroll past him to the jeep as he wanted. She seemed to be heading directly towards him instead. Each step with its accompanying thrilling movement of her body brought her closer to him. He kept his rifle up, pointing it at her. "Don’t make me use this!" he warned, but a trace of nervousness had entered his voice and detracted from the weight of the threat. The girl’s lovely smile did not even flicker. She continued to advance on him.

Just a couple of meters separated them now. There was no longer any room for doubt. The girl was walking up to him, not towards the waiting jeep far behind him. Thompson made a decision. At this distance, his hands were more appropriate than his rifle. If the girl was refusing to co-operate, he would drag her to the jeep himself. Such a petite young woman would not be able to resist a large, muscular soldier like himself. What was the worst she could do? Pull his hair?

He lowered his gun and took a half step towards her, reaching out to grab her long slender arm with his big hand. But he never made it. Without warning, the girl’s other arm flashed across him, far faster than he could react. Her small, delicate-looking fingers curled around his wrist. For a split-second, he looked down at her hand in surprise. And then, suddenly, he felt a tremendous pain in his forearm.

Thompson screamed as the girl gripped him. Under the sound of his own yell, he distinctly heard the crunching sound as her petite hand crushed the bones in his wrist. He dropped his rifle in shock. How had she managed to do that? There was no let up in the terrible pain in his arm. In panic, he placed his other hand over hers, his thick, hairy masculine fingers dwarfing her flawless, slender digits. But for all his desperate efforts to prise even a single fingertip off his arm, he could not budge her grip.

Sweat poured onto his forehead as he fought in vain to free his wrist. Through emerging tears of agony, he caught a glimpse of his tormentor and saw that she was still smiling at him. She wasn’t even exerting herself! "What the fuck is going on here?" he thought. "Who the fuck is this girl?" The pain was unrelenting. He balled up his free hand into a fist and drove it, with all his might, into the smooth flat perfection of the girl’s abdomen.

It felt as if he had punched a block of steel. He could feel the bones of his hand collapsing against the unfeasibly solid flesh of the beautiful young woman. He screamed, half in terrible agony, half in confused fear. The girl failed to acknowledge the blow in any way. Her smile was unflinching, her crushing grip on his wrist unaffected. He caught her eye for an instant. Was she laughing at him? He was distracted by a movement of her arm. The one holding him. He felt a new agony in his shoulder as something tore. Then he stopped feeling altogether.



Lyda let the Earther punch her. It was always fun when they destroyed their hands trying to hurt her flawless skin. She didn’t feel the blow as anything more than a feather-like caress, but she heard the sound of the creature’s knuckles shattering with total clarity. Tara, standing some paces behind her, heard it too. She smiled as she thought of Lyda’s smooth thin belly and the way the powerful-looking Earther’s fist had dissolved on contact with it.

After that, Lyda was finished with the creature. His screams were beginning to bore her. So she just jerked his trapped arm upwards in an almost unthinking gesture, releasing him once she’d leant him enough momentum so that his whole body shot towards the sky. He stopped yelling straight away, but he continued to rocket away from the ground, his flight testament to the phenomenal strength of Lyda’s deceptively slender arm.

The Earther’s body was still climbing towards the clouds, but the other men were already reacting to Lyda’s throw. Weapons were clicked all around her in preparation for use. The petite brunette paid no attention as she glanced at the men in front of her. Meanwhile Tara was still following the corpse shooting upwards. Her head was bent back as she watched it, her amazing eyes allowing her to see the flesh burning as it encountered the resistance of the edge of the planet’s atmosphere. She didn’t look back towards ground-level until she heard one of the Earthers shouting "Open fire!"



The men needed no second invitation. Having just witnessed the inexplicable murder of their Sergeant at the hands of one of the two girls, they were finally aware of the threat she represented. Anger too, at the death of their colleague, was in their motivation-mix. They demanded instant revenge. The girl’s life for their Sarge’s. Every single weapon on the scene, bar the abandoned rifle at the brunette’s feet, cracked into life. And every single one of them was pointed at the slim, sexy teenage girl.

The combined noise of the guns was hell itself. Automatic weapons poured out their deadly streams of hot steel and lead onto their shapely target. They expected to see her body jerking backwards as their bullets tore into her flesh. They expected her mangled remains to slump instantly to the ground.

But it didn’t happen. Through the haze of flying bullets, the men could still see her. They could see she was still standing. They could see that there were no red tears appearing on her stunning body. Confused, they continued to fire. From time to time, some of the men caught glimpses, amidst the metallic blur, of misshapen bullets ricocheting from her. The realization spread quickly through them. The girl was bullet-proof!

The soldiers maintained the constant barrage of fire, despite the evidence that it was ineffective. None of them could believe that the girl was completely impervious to the thousands of bullets striking her every second. Surely, if they kept shooting, the cumulative effect of so many impacts - each one supposedly deadly in its own right - would bring her down. What was happening - what they were witnessing - just wasn’t possible!



The first wave of little metal pellets came out of the encircling weapons so slowly that Lyda and Tara could easily have evaded them. They chose not to, because they both longed to see the shock and awe on the faces of the Earthers when they saw the ineffectiveness of their noisy weapons.

The devices being used on them, Lyda noted with only the vaguest interest, were different from those she and Tara had encountered on Earth before. Instead of individual little bits of metal, these machines spat out a constant flow of the things. Perhaps, she thought, the Earthers considered these weapons more powerful than the other type. But when the projectiles started to hit her body, they felt as pathetic as those she had already experienced.

To show the creatures how useless their weapons were, Lyda defiantly placed her hands on her hips and let the barrage of pellets bounce harmlessly from her. For every beat of her heart, ten or more little bits of metal struck her face - her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her sultry lips - and just crumpled up under their own momentum before pinging away to the side.

She showed her total disdain for the wasted effort with a sneer, raising one lip and exposing a few of her lovely teeth. Some pellets found their way past her lip to the sexy whiteness she was displaying. They merely met the same futile fate as all the other bits of metal that struck her, her teeth proving complete immune to Earth weaponry.

The rest of her body was not ignored, either. Streams of projectiles bounced from her prominent breasts in all directions, a few trying to bore their way, unsuccessfully, into her deep cleavage. Her abdomen was no more vulnerable to the metal onslaught than it had been to the Earther’s fist moments before. Her crotch, too, remained untouched despite the countless pellets ricocheting from it.

The men behind her unloaded their ammunition into her flawless back with a similar lack of success. Bits of metal bounced harmlessly from the perfectly spherical curves of her superhumanly pert rear, too. Wherever she was struck, her skin remained unblemished. The projectiles merely folded into themselves as they pressed uselessly at her invulnerable flesh before rebounding away.

Behind her, Tara was absent-mindedly looking at the Earthers operating the weapons. Occasionally, a piece of metal would glance off her friend and strike her. More often, a projectile intended for the shorter girl missed its target and impacted with Tara’s body. She completely ignored them as she amused herself observing the growing shock and disbelief displayed on the male faces all around. Over the racket of the weaponry, her ears caught the sound of an Earther shouting into a communicator. With mild amusement, she listened to the conversation.



"I don’t know, sir! She just seemed to throw him into the sky. With one hand! We’ve opened fire but it’s not having any effect!"

"What did you say? Repeat that, soldier!"

"The guns are not having any effect sir! Our bullets are just bouncing off her!"

"Say again."

"Our bullets are bouncing off the girl’s body! She’s bullet-proof! Totally bullet-proof!"

"Is she wearing some kind of armour?"

"No, sir. Just a bikini, sir. The bullets are just bouncing off her all over! Her face, her tits… Nothing’s getting through to her!"

"That’s impossible, soldier!"

"Sir, I know. But that’s what’s happening! She’s just standing, perfectly still with her hands on her hips like she’s showing off or something. We’re hitting her from all angles and nothing’s happening!"

"Are you sure, man?"

"Yes sir. The girl is bullet-proof."

"Understood. Tell the others to keep her pinned down. We’ll get you some heavier support."

"Yes sir!"



"This is getting boring," Lyda called out above the din over her shoulder to her friend.

"Look at their faces!" Tara responded. "They’re all in shock!"

"Yes," laughed Lyda. "Pathetic, aren’t they?"

"You’d think for all this noise that those weapons would actually do something." Tara commented.

"Maybe they’re not using them properly," suggested Lyda. She cast her gaze imperiously over a few of the Earthers, and, at her leisure, selected one. Casually, her hands still planted on her hips, she sashayed towards him.

The constant stream of hot metal continued to strike her from all angles as she strolled. Lyda made sure the Earthers could see her ignoring it completely. She noticed that a number of them were moving about in response to her changing position. Some of the men seemed anxious to maintain the same distance between her and themselves. Others apparently were keen to find out if their weapons were any more effective from shorter range.

As she continued to walk, one Earther separated out from the others and began to run at her, his weapon spewing furiously all the while. A yell, which Lyda took to be some kind of war-cry left his lips as he charged. The brunette paid him no attention as he neared, the projectiles from his firearm not disturbing her any more than those fired from much further away. Then, suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and fell to the ground. It took her an instant to understand what had happened. He’d been cut down by one of his own pellets that had bounced from her body. She laughed, both at the irony and the fact that just a single projectile could be fatal when hundreds of thousands had failed to even mark her skin.

Panic was beginning to grip the men now. They started to run in different directions, firing at her all the while. She remained calm as she kept advancing. In the confusion, an Earther ran right in front of her, spraying her face with hot metal from only a few paces away. She quickly closed the gap. "Give me that," she ordered, reaching for his weapon. The man had no time to react. She had to lean down to grab the thing from him as he fell, his body riddled with holes caused by projectiles either intended for her or ricocheting from her.

Lyda ignored the Earther collapsing at her feet just as she ignored the thousands of pellets still striking her. She turned the weapon over in her hands, her eyes seeing beyond its casing to examine the primitive mechanism inside. She found it astonishing that the creatures could think such a pathetic contraption would harm her. Adjusting the thing in her grip so that the end of it was barely the width of her small hand from the bridge of her nose, she experimentally activated the little lever on the handle, taking care not to squeeze with any force and mangle the steel.

Bright flame emerged from the barrel right in front of her eyes as the weapon spat out a succession of metal lumps. There was barely enough space for the projectiles to leave the weapon before they slammed into her face, squashing into flat, disc-shapes against her beautiful, invulnerable features. It was a curious sensation, almost like being tickled, but too gentle to make her actually laugh. Her only reaction to the point-blank blast was to instinctively blink.

She released the firing mechanism and the pointless weapon fell silent. So much for the theory that the Earthers weren’t using the things properly. Looking up, she noticed a group of three of them standing about ten paces away from her, their own weapons still discharging their ammunition at her. Clearly, the trio had witnessed her playing with the weapon and could not believe the result. Each bore a lock of complete shock. Lyda grinned at them.

The three Earthers stared back, the stunned expressions seemingly fixed on their faces. The brunette adjusted her grip on the weapon she had stolen, holding it in both her hands. She kept her gaze on the men as, with an effortless twist of her wrist, she tore the steel weapon in half. Then, holding one half of it in each hand, she casually tossed them, underarm, at two of the males. The broken bits of metal ripped right through the chests of the two targets she had selected, emerging with a splatter of gore from their backs as they slumped to the ground.

The Earther who had been standing between the slain pair suddenly found himself isolated, face to face with her. The blood appeared to drain from his features. He stopped firing his weapon, perhaps an acknowledgement of the futility of using it, perhaps the result of fear making his fingers limp. "Don’t kill me." he said. Lyda flashed him a smile. This was fun!



When Lavarre first saw the girl walking towards his way, strolling through the impenetrable hail of machine-gun fire as if it were nothing more that a spot of light rain, he instinctively knew he had to move away from there. But movement was difficult. There were bullets streaming through the air all around, and men running, some of them clearly panicking. He spotted two colleagues and, opting for the relative safety of the group, stationed himself between them.

He watched as another soldier ran almost into the girl and saw him wounded by a series of bullets that appeared to have glanced from the side of one of her generous breasts. Continuing to fire his own gun at the girl, more in hope than expectation of wounding her now, he saw her snatch up the fallen man’s gun and, to his shock, point it right at her face. When she pulled the trigger and the bullets hitting her skull from no more than ten centimetres out only made her blink, he assumed he was hallucinating.

Then she’d snapped the machine gun in half as though it was as brittle as a dry twig. Before he could even try and take in what he had seen, she’d thrown the two pieces of gun right through the bodies of the men either side of him. The safety in numbers he had sought had been suddenly, and bloodily, stripped away. Fear gripped him. He found himself letting go of the trigger of his gun. Then he heard himself begging for mercy. It was as though his mind had left his body, so completely had terror overtaken him.

The girl smiled at him. Such a beautiful smile. It confused him. How could someone smiling so warmly at him wish him harm? She was walking towards him now. He heard someone shouting nearby over the racket of the guns. "Hold fire! Hold fire!" There was movement behind him, the sound of a jeep engine revving. But he could not tear his eyes off the girl. The way she moved, her body swaying so sensuously as she strolled towards him, her large breasts bobbing with each confident stride, that stunning smile on her gorgeous face…

She was so close now. He felt himself grow hard at the sheer eroticism of her movements. A small part of him clamoured for attention, urging him to run away, but he was powerless to obey, so utterly was he enraptured by her beauty. Standing right in front of him, her fabulous body so near to his own, she tilted her face up towards his and slowly reached up, putting her hand behind his head. He felt her pull his face down towards hers and made no effort to resist.

She pushed out her ripe lips, inviting him to kiss their feminine perfection and he responded, placing his own lips against hers. She kissed him firmly, the wonderful sensation of her mouth pressed against his triggering an involuntary orgasm, his loins unable to resist her allure. He shook with the spasms in his groin, but the girl did not interrupt the kiss. If anything, she intensified it, making his release last longer than any he’d every experienced before.

Suddenly, he realized that he couldn’t breathe. He felt a tightening in his chest that quickly became a burning, stinging pain. Franticly, he tried to pull his face away from hers and found that, no matter how hard he struggled, he simply could not move. The pain grew to new levels. He tasted blood. A second later, his world faded to black and ended.



Lyda broke the kiss and let the dead body fall. She’d enjoyed her brief mastery over the Earther, hypnotizing him with the way her body moved before making him cum merely by kissing him. After that, she had slowly begun to inhale with her lips locked over his mouth, carefully increasing the force of her suction so that she could remove all the air from the creature, but still allow him a few moments to panic before his lungs collapsed.

Most of the men had stopped firing their weapons now. She saw a couple of the vehicles ahead of her moving. Turning, she saw Earthers running in all directions. Most seemed to be trying to get as far away from her as they could. She saw a couple sprint right past Tara. Perhaps they assumed, given the taller girl’s complete inactivity up to that moment, that she was no threat to them. Tara merely raised her hands from her sides and grabbed each of the two passing Earthers by an arm.

"And where do you think you’re going?" Tara asked her two prisoners as they squirmed in her unbreakable grasp. "I don’t remember anyone saying you could leave."

"Let me go!" one of the men shouted through clenched teeth. The other attempted to drive the sharp point of his elbow into her face. He screamed as the impact broke several bones, leaving his arm hanging uselessly by his side. Tara continued to hold him by his other arm.

"Lyda!" called Tara.

"Yes?" asked her friend.

"What do you want me to do with these two?" The two Earthers, terrified by the way their fates were being so casually discussed, renewed their futile struggles with extra vigour. Tara merely ignored their hopeless efforts.

"Hmmm," thought the darker-haired beauty. "I’ll decide in a moment. Would you mind holding them for me in the meantime?"

"Of course not," said Tara. One of the men leant in and, opening his mouth wide, bit down on her smooth upper arm with all his might. A trickle of blood appeared on the teenager’s blemish-free skin. The source of the blood became apparent when she pulled her arm away from the Earther and a dozen of his teeth flew out with it, leaving him with a bloody, gummy mouth.

"I’ll be back for them in a moment," Lyda said. She looked around. There were men scattered everywhere. Most of them were trying to make it to one of the various vehicles arranged around the scene. Selecting an Earther at random, she jogged after him, catching up with him in only a few strides. She reached for him, grabbing his arm with her left hand. Then, she turned, pulling the man off his feet as she started to run towards a group of four other Earthers who were sprinting towards the sanctuary of one of the big, long vehicles.

With the screaming man in tow, she effortlessly overtook the bunch of four men before turning to face them. "Hey!" she said, not even needing to pause for breath, "You forgot your friend here!" The quartet of Earthers almost lost their feet in their panic to stop before they clattered into her. Panting, terrified, they looked at her. She had adjusted her hold on the man she was dragging, still gripping him with her left hand by his wrist, but now also supporting his hip with her other hand. She raised him over her head, holding his body parallel to the ground.

The four men looked up at their comrade and then down at the slim, sexy young woman supporting his weight with ease. She smiled at them, only increasing their fears to new levels. "Would you like him back?" she asked, sweetly. Transfixed, the men said nothing. They just stared. "I’ll take that as a ‘yes’," Lyda announced. "Here! Take him!"



A minute before, Corporal Ferol thought he was going to escape the nightmare unfolding all around him. He saw the two beautiful, bullet-proof girls tormenting a couple of his comrades and ran towards one of the two waiting trucks, hoping to get clear the area whilst they were distracted. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw that he was already fifty meters from them.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he focused on the lorry he was running to. "Not far to go," he thought. "I’m going to make it! I’m going to-" In an instant, his world had become nothing but pain. He was no longer running. His arm had become trapped and he could not pull it free. The agony was centred on his forearm. He turned to look at what might be causing it, knowing already what the answer would be.

It was the shorter girl. She’d grabbed him. But how had she caught him? Just a second before, he’d seen her fifty meters away! She didn’t look like she’d been sprinting. She wasn’t gasping for breath. Her sexy face was as serene as ever. Her calmness amidst all the panic and bloodshed was terrifying. Ferol knew he had to escape her clutches. He pounded her arm with his free fist until the bruising made him cry out. The girl didn’t even appear to notice his efforts.

Suddenly, she turned on her heels. He found himself being jerked off his feet. Before he could think about recovery, the girl started running. He was dragged along behind her like a child’s rag doll, his boots bouncing on the ground, unable to regain his footing as she moved as fast as a car. In panic, fearing for his life, he began to scream. She moved so quickly! He felt nauseous as she turned sharply, pulling him helplessly along behind her.

Finally, she stopped. He tried to catch his breath. Before he could even begin, she put her other hand under his hip and turned his whole body sideways. Then she lifted him over her head like a weightlifter. She’d run in front of a bunch of other soldiers, cutting off their escape. Through the pain and the sickness, he heard her talking to them. His mind was too riddled with shock and agony to take in most of her words, but he distinctly heard her saying "Here! Take him!". "Oh fuck," he thought. "She means me…"

After that, he felt a sudden stab of pain in his shoulder, followed a split-second later by another jolt, this time in his abdominal muscles and then a third agony, almost immediately, in his groin, as if his body was being sharply stretched out. He was aware of a feeling of his legs moving through the air, but only for a few instants. His shins hit something with such force, the shock almost made him black out. Something warm splashed all over the lower half of his body. He was too short of air to yell as the pain in his legs grew and grew. He hardly noticed that he was no longer moving. Forcing his eyes open, he blinked away tears of agony and found himself staring into the stunning bright eyes of his beautiful tormentor.



From her position, holding the captured Earther over her head, Lyda had paused for a moment to glance over at Tara. As she hoped, her friend was watching. They caught one another’s eyes for an instant, exchanging a look of fiery passion. It was a momentary, wordless communication, but both girls knew what the other was saying. Tara was imploring Lyda to display her power and Lyda was imploring Tara to watch her do it.

Sure of her audience, Lyda had removed the hand supporting the male’s hip and used the other hand gripping his arm to swing his whole body around in an arc. Such was the force of the swing, the legs of the man she was holding carved clean through the torsos of the four others, killing them instantly. Then she lowered her "weapon" until he was almost kneeling, facing her, his shattered legs partially on the ground, his weight still supported by her delicate hand on his wrist.

Barely conscious now, his wrist, shoulder and legs broken, he already screamed himself hoarse and had no means of expressing his agony bar silent tears that rolled down his cheeks. Lyda looked into his eyes, carefully adjusting her grip on him so that she was holding him with one hand under each arm with their noses only a small distance apart. "You poor man!" she mocked. "It looks like your friends don’t want you after all. Never mind! I want you!"

He couldn’t talk. He tried to say something in reply, but the wheezing sounds he made were incomprehensible. "Sshhh," said Lyda to him, gently. "Don’t talk," she breathed. "Don’t spoil the romance!"

She pulled him a little closer to her, until the large, firm points of her big breasts touched his chest through their clothes. "Isn’t this lovely?" she said. "Me holding you tight…" She increased the pressure of the hug a little, feeling his upper body yielding very slightly to her generous round chest. "…my breasts pressing into you…" Lyda drew the Earther a bit closer still. "…squeezing you, driving the air from your body…." She tightened the embrace once again "…making your ribs bend…." The creatures eyes were wild with terror, but she could feel his erection throbbing against her thigh.

"You like this don’t you?" she smiled. "Feeling my big breasts so firmly against your soft body. Can you feel them slowly crushing you…" She pulled him another tiny measure closer. They both heard the muffled "pop" sound within his chest. "...breaking your ribs one by…" Another step tighter. Another "pop". "..one. My breasts are killing you…" She hugged him tighter. Pop! Pop! Pop! "…aren’t they? What’s it like?" Another squeeze. There were no more ribs to pop. His eyes were becoming glazed over. "What’s it like to feel my breasts crush the life out of you?" Lyda asked with a smile as she pulled him a little closer still, so that his chest yielded completely to her superhumanly firm bosoms. Blood poured from the Earther’s mouth. A moment later, he went completely limp.

As Lyda let his body fall at her feet, admiring the newly concave shape of his chest, she heard an involuntary lustful gasp from Tara and smiled, then winked at her lover. Tara responded with a look of smouldering desire. The two Earthers that Tara was holding glanced at each other in sheer terror.



No-one needed to give the "Retreat!" order. The surviving men were already sprinting towards the hope of escape offered by their vehicles. While the shorter of the two terrifying, teenage girls was occupied torturing one of their colleagues and her friend seemed content to stand on the spot holding two others captive by the means of a single-handed, casual-looking grips, most of the remaining men had made into one of the jeeps.

Quite a few had also piled into one of the trucks. The driver of the other lorry was dead, and it stood empty. As the last of the survivors raced towards it, the soldiers in the first truck diverted them. "No driver! In here!"

Engines were revving. The driver of one of the jeeps put his machine into gear, and pressed down on the accelerator. Like most of the others, he wasn’t sure what he had witnessed in the previous minutes - psychopathic gorgeous young women with astonishingly sexy figures who were immune to machine-gun fire and strong enough to throw men into the sky had not been included in basic training - but he knew one thing: ‘Survival’ meant getting far away from them as quickly as possible.



"Lyda," Tara warned, "you’re going to lose points! Your Earthers are all running away!" She spoke in the local Earther tongue, so that her two prisoners would not feel left out.

"Well, I’ll just have to stop them then, won’t I?" said Lyda, putting her hands on her hips and thrusting out her stunning chest in a power-pose intended purely for her friend’s entertainment. Then she addressed the two Earthers Tara was keeping for her. "You stay right there, boys. I’ll be back to play with you in a while."

Lyda turned on her heels and set off at a sprint towards the vehicle that had already started to drive away. She’d covered barely half the distance to the thing when, mid-stride, she bent her knee and sprung upwards off her dainty toes, launching herself in an astonishing, graceful leap. Tara watched her long, low jump intently.



Everyone in the jeep bar the driver was turned to see what was behind them. Terrified that one of the two extraordinary girls might pursue them, they’d been relieved to see the two of them chatting as the jeep put more and more ground between soldiers and girls. They were two hundred meters away already and that distance was increasing by the second. But then, the shorter one had suddenly become a blur - a blur that was headed in their direction.

Before anyone could even shout a warning, the blur had halved the gap. Then, it launched into the air, still heading straight for them, but now on an arc that peaked about five meters above the ground. By the time the stunned observers had calculated where the arc was likely to finish, it was too late. No-one got the chance to alert the driver. He never knew what hit them.



Lyda judged her leap to perfection. She saw the flicker of panic on the faces of some of the Earthers in the vehicle as she soared down, feet first towards them. Her petite heels landed on the front of the transporter where the primitive engine was located. The metal covering tore instantly beneath her, the soles of her feet carving downwards through everything they encountered including solid steel.

The back end of the vehicle lifted slightly as Lyda came down at the front, catapulting the men from the vehicle. Before they could rise any great distance into the air, however, the thing’s fuel supply ignited and the entire machine exploded in a massive ball of orange flame that quickly engulfed both Lyda and the flying Earthers.

The males bodies were instantly burnt to charcoal. Lyda stood amongst the flames and wreckage as large pieces of broken vehicle rained down on her, bouncing from her invulnerable head, chuckling to herself. Calmly, she strolled out of the carnage, walking through the raging fire without a second thought, her beautiful skin untouched by heat or shrapnel.

She surveyed the area around her imperiously. There were Earthers in two more of the small, open-topped vehicles, headed in opposite directions. One of the two big, long transporters was also moving, following one of the smaller machines. She headed towards it, at a relaxed jog that very quickly brought her close.



The soldiers in the back of the moving truck saw the jeep exploding almost half a kilometer away. Their horror at the fate of their colleagues was also mixed with relief. If the architect of all this destruction - the slim, dark-haired girl - was with the blown-up jeep, she could never catch up with them in the lorry.

Then, as they watched, they saw something. It was like a pink smear that stretched across the landscape from the site of the explosion, heading towards them. Most of them knew, even before the smear solidified into a recognizable shape, what it was. Suddenly, she was only about twenty meters behind them. She was matching the truck’s speed, running along the ground. She smiled at the startled men. "Oh fuck, no!" someone screamed. The girl winked at him as if to say "Oh, yes!"

They stared in hopeless dread as she lowered her head and then, taking them completely by surprise, dived forwards as if into a swimming pool. She passed right under their gaze and disappeared under the truck. An instant later, everyone was thrown forwards. There was the sound of the windshield at the front of the lorry smashing. The floor seemed to lurch up as they were crashing down. Men slammed into each other, injuring themselves, some fatally. The lorry was no longer speeding. Now it was almost still, apart from a strange, almost boat-like swaying.



As she followed the big Earther transporter, Lyda used her ability to see through solid objects to check that the smaller vehicle was still travelling in front. Seeing that the open-topped machine was indeed there, and noticing the gap beneath the body of the big vehicle and the ground, she made a quick decision. She bent her knees and flung herself low and forwards, head first.

She flew under the back of the transporter, coming down about two-thirds of the way beneath it. Her large breasts slammed into the ground first, smashing out a small crater as her feminine curves pulverized the rock and stone in their way. Her face made a shallower indentation and her knees each made small pot-holes as they hit.

The petite but curvaceous brunette didn’t pause to admire the imprints she’d created, however. In an instant, she raised her face from the ground, reaching up with her palms upturned. The big vehicle was speeding over her. She gathered her legs, and pressed up quickly with her hands, grabbing hold of the machine’s frame so that when she lifted it sharply from the ground, her slender arms not only supported its massive weight, but also overpowered its powerful forward momentum. In a single, effortless gesture, she brought the vehicle to a sudden halt and raised it in its entirety, into the air.

She stood up fluidly and easily, lifting the huge transporter above her head as she did so. She glanced upwards, peering through the floor of the thing, enjoying the chaos within. Then she turned her attention to the smaller vehicle now trundling away in front of her. As she drew her arms back, making the enormous machine overhead creak and lurch, she hoped that Tara was watching her.



"Oh my god!" screamed the Private in the back of the jeep. He’d only turned around to confirm that the truck was still following them when he saw it suddenly jerk upwards off the road. The driver and another man in the cab were thrown violently forwards through the windshield and came crashing down to roll in the dirt and then lie still. The lorry rose swiftly. Soon, he saw what was raising it.

"It’s her!" yelled the Private. "She’s got the truck! She’s picked it up! She’s picked up the whole fucking truck! Oh god! She’s… she’s going to throw it! She’s going t-"



Lyda tossed the big transporter gently at the little vehicle in front. She didn’t want to put too much into her throw so that the huge vehicle would soar far overhead. She wanted the larger machine to crash down on top of the smaller one. Her judgement, as it always seemed to be on Earth, was perfect.

The enormous vehicle sailed through the air on a graceful trajectory that ended with it landing exactly over the open-topped transporter, shaking the ground as the little vehicle instantly crumpled flat. Then, both machines erupted in a massive explosion that echoed across the landscape. A column of flame leapt skywards as the blast ripped the vehicles to shreds and scattered them in every direction. A few bits of twisted charred metal smashed into Lyda’s perfect body and bounced away, defeated. The rest dropped to the ground all around.

Lyda turned around and focused her superhuman vision on her remote friend. They were so far apart that two Earthers in the same situation would not have been able to spot each other at all. But Tara and Lyda were able to look each other in the eye so clearly over that distance that Lyda could see how impressed Tara was. She ran happily back towards her waiting lover.



"What was that?" the driver of the last remaining jeep asked as he saw an explosion in his rear-view mirror.

"One of ours," answered a Private in the back.

"Oh god, she’s just picking us off," someone else observed.

"No." said the driver, defiantly. "No. She won’t get us. We’re too far away now."



"That was awesome!" Tara greeted Lyda moments later as the brunette jogged up to her side.

"Thanks!" said Lyda, immodestly. Turning to the two Earthers trapped helplessly in Tara’s unbreakable grip, she asked "Did you see that boys?" They mumbled something in reply, too scared to speak properly. Lyda grinned at them. "It’ll be your turn soon," she reassured them.

"What about the other little vehicle?" Tara asked.

"Where is it now?" Lyda wondered, turning on the spot as she scanned the landscape. "Ah," she said. "I suppose it would be rude to let them leave without saying ‘goodbye’," she said.

"Very rude," agreed Tara.

"I won’t be long," Lyda announced, sprinting away once more.



In the back of the jeep, Private Deriva muttered a silent prayer. After all that gunfire had proved a waste of time, and the shorter of the two girls had killed two of his colleagues right in front of him, he knew that the only course of action was to get the hell away from her. She was not of this world, he was sure of that. As he’d run to the vehicle, he’d seen the other girl holding two more men against their will, apparently with complete ease. There was no doubt in his mind that he had made the right decision.

He was one of six who had made it into the vehicle before the driver, understandably unwilling to wait any longer, had thrown it into gear and turned it around, heading back towards the highway. The jeep shuddered as its engine worked flat out to pull the weight of its cargo with the accelerator pedal depressed all the way down. Soon after that, they’d started to see explosions as the girl began destroying the other vehicles in which their colleagues were fleeing. But now, they were almost at the road again. Surely they were safe now!

Then, someone in the back screamed "Oh shit, no!" He didn’t need to add the explanation "She’s following us!"

Everyone but the driver turned to look. Sure enough, there was the girl, her lovely long legs moving in a blur as they carried her over the ground at an apparently impossible speed. "She’s gaining on us!" someone cried. "Go faster! Go faster!"

"I can’t!" shouted the driver. He looked quickly down at his speedometer. They were doing nearly 100kph! How the hell could the girl be gaining on them?

She was only about ten meters back now. Deriva grabbed his machine gun. It was hard to aim accurately in the back of the bumping, moving jeep so he sprayed the girl indiscriminately with lead. He saw the flashes where some of the bullets struck her, and spotted where some of the others bounced from her perfect skin. But the barrage did not even slow her down. In desperation, he flung the useless weapon at her. She didn’t even flinch as it clanged against her face and fell to the ground. Inexorably, she continued to close the gap to the jeep.

Panicking, two of the men in the back tried to clamber into the front to get away from her as she neared. "Get off!" shouted the driver as a careless foot on his shoulder made him swerve before regaining control. One of the clambering men lost his footing as they hit a small divot in the ground. He was thrown free of the vehicle. Deriva watched in silent horror as the displaced man fell towards the ground. He saw the raven-haired girl flash out her right arm and catch him by the back of his neck.

She kept running, carrying the soldier with her left hand, letting his boots drag on the ground. The trapped man tried to match the superhuman pace of the girls’ feet, but immediately realized it was an impossible task. Smoke rose from his soles as they scraped at over a hundred kilometres an hour along the ground. The material was rapidly being worn away by the friction.

Knowing what would happen once his boots were finally ground out of existence, the man fought with both his arms to remove the three-fingered feminine grip on his neck. He was still vainly struggling when the last shreds of his military soles wore away. His screams curdled the blood of everyone in the jeep as the flesh of his feet proved far less resistant that his boots.

Deriva looked down and saw the horrific sight of the man’s blood-splattered legs, cut off just above the ankles. The girl was glancing down at the crimson mess too. Her reaction to the gory sight, however, was one of delight. The Private realized that she was enjoying the torture. He felt an emptiness in his stomach as the girl slowly lowered the arm gripping the back of her victim’s neck, pushing his body down towards the earth, causing more and more of his legs to be worn away by the rough ground zipping past beneath.

The soldier stopped screaming when his legs had been ground away to just above his knees. The girl opened her fingers and let him drop, leaving him behind as she continued to chase down the jeep. Deriva found himself frozen with terror now. He watched, helpless as she reached for the back of the vehicle and curled two fingers around it.

The next thing he knew, he was flying through the air. In flashes, he saw see the girl, standing next to the jeep, ever more distant behind him as he shot away. He also saw the other men from the vehicle, airborne all around him. Then he saw the ground, rushing towards him.



Lyda played with the Earther who’d been dislodged from the vehicle she was chasing, using the friction of the ground to shorten his legs until he lost consciousness and stopped being entertaining. After that, she turned her attention fully to the transporter. An effortless increase of her pace brought her within reach of it. Then she just grabbed it and stopped dead still, her slim arm more than strong enough to cancel out the pull of the machine’s engine.

The sudden stop caused the five men left in the vehicle to be immediately thrown forward by their momentum. Watching them crash down, the speed and force of each impact enough to instantly kill each of them, Lyda felt pride in her power. She turned towards where Lyda was waiting and waved at her. The taller girl grinned and waved back.

Despite the large distances she had covered at phenomenal speeds, Lyda was still as fresh and full of energy as ever. She wasted no time as she ran happily back to her friend’s side, moving faster than any Earth vehicle could ever travel.



"What?" said the General. "The entire unit? You lost contact with your entire unit? How?"

"I have to assume the worst, sir. My men were reporting that one of the girls was massacring them. They said that the automatic weapons fire had no effect on either of the two hostiles. Then we started getting reports of casualties. I ordered a complete retreat, but from what I could gather, the hostiles were chasing the men down. That’s when we lost contacts, sir."

There was a long pause at the other end of the secure telephone line.

"Thank you, Colonel," the general finally said. "That is all. Please await further contact."

"Yes, sir," said the Colonel, replacing the receiver. He lifted his elbows onto his desk and dropped his head into his hands.



"Why do you think they abandoned the other big machine?" Tara wondered, with a nod in the direction of the empty vehicle, just moments after Lyda had returned to her side.

"I don’t know," Lyda admitted, not needing to catch her breath even though she’d just completed a long, supersonic sprint. "Maybe these two have an idea," she suggested, looking at the last two Earthers - the ones Tara had kept for her.

"They can’t even speak anymore," Tara dismissed Lyda’s thought. "I tried talking to them while you were running around before. The poor little creatures seem to have lost their voices."

"Lost their voices?" Lyda asked, with mock incredulity. "That’s too pathetic even for Earthers! Are you sure they’re not just pretending?"

"Oh yes," said Tara. "I’m absolutely sure they’re not pretending. Look, I’ll show you." She adjusted her grip on the two men, releasing their upper arms and talking a new hold by curling her thumb and two fingers around the back of each Earther’s neck. With that grip, she bent her wrists to turn them both around to face her. "Would you two like to me to let you go now?" she asked.

The two men made rasping, wheezing sounds but nothing that could be classified as actual language. "Just say the word," Tara told them, "and you can go." The pair made some more desperate, strange noises. "Come on," Tara encouraged. "One little word, and we’ll let you walk away. No?" Looking back at Lyda, she said, "You see? They can’t talk."

"That’s ridiculous," said Lyda. "I’ve never heard of a creature losing its voice. It’s obvious that they didn’t say anything just now because they don’t want to go. They want to stay. They’ve been waiting all this time for me, and now I’m back they don’t want to go anywhere."

Tara smiled. "I don’t blame them," she sighed. "You’re gorgeous." She meant it, too. She looked at the two men in her hands. "Isn’t she beautiful?" she asked them, straightening her wrists so that the duo were turned, whether they wanted it or not, towards the brunette. Tara held their heads firmly in front of Lyda’s sexy face. The men tried with all their might to agree, but their efforts at speaking failed once more.

"I said ‘isn’t she beautiful?’," Tara reiterated the question. "What’s the matter with you?"

"Maybe," Lyda said, slowly, biting her lip saucily, "maybe they need a closer look?"

Tara caught the glimmer in her lover’s eye and smiled in understanding. "Yes," she said. "A closer look." She moved her hands away from herself, pushing the two Earther’s heads towards Lyda. She and Lyda grinned at each other as Tara slowly pressed each man down past the darker-haired girl’s face. She stopped when she was holding them with their noses almost touching the magnificent spherical protrusions of Lyda’s bust.

"How’s that, boys?" asked Lyda. "Can you see OK now?" Unable to move their heads because of Tara’s grip on the back of their necks, the two males muttered their pathetic responses to Lyda’s breasts.

"What did you say?" Lyda teased. "Did you say you still can’t see? Tara! I think they said they still can’t see."

"What shall we do about that?" Tara asked, joining the game. "Should I give them an even closer look?"

"Oh, I think you’ll have to," said Lyda. She arched her back, thrusting her big breasts out towards the men. Tara matched that movement by pressing the Earther’s faces slowly down onto Lyda’s chest. The two girls stared deep into each other’s eyes and listened to the sound of crunching bone as Tara crushed the men’s noses against the silky, erotic flesh of Lyda’s breasts.

Blood poured out onto the shorter girl’s skin. Tara continued to press the men into Lyda. Their skulls cracked, unable to resist the firmness of the brunette’s beautiful bust. Flesh tore and muscle yielded as each man’s face lost its struggle to dent the perfect roundness of Lyda’s breasts. Instead, it was Lyda’s breasts that dented the Earther’s faces. The males went limp in Tara’s grasp.

Lyda sighed deeply, her hot breath washing over Tara’s face. Tara responded by letting go of the dead men’s necks and throwing her arms around her lovers head. The two bodies hung unaided, so deeply were Lyda’s breasts embedded in the front of their heads. Tara ignored them as she pulled her lover to her. Lyda’s arms encircled Tara’s waist. The two corpses were ground into paste as the girls’ bodies came together, destroying everything between them. They kissed deeply.



"Colonel, tell your men not to proceed to the incident site."

"But sir, they’re one minute away from the rendezvous point!"

"Then, tell them now! Tell them to hold their position and await further orders."

"Right away, sir."



"You know you scored forty-six points there," Tara breathed between kisses. "I’m impressed."

"It’ll be your turn soon. Your Earthers must be nearly here by now. I can’t believe how slow their vehicles are."

"Wait a second!"

"What is it, Tara?"

"Listen! They’re stopping!"

"Oh yes. I wonder why…"

"It’s not fair! We’re in the middle of a game here! Don’t they realize that?"



"New orders, Corporal. Under no circumstances are you to engage the hostile parties. Hold your position and wait for reinforcements."

"Yes sir."

"I’ll let you know more when I can."

"Thank you, sir. Ah, sir? There’s a lot of smoke on the horizon. It looks like several vehicles on fire. I could send a foot party to investigate in the meantime..."

"Negative, Corporal. Hold your position. Stay away from the original incident site until you receive direct orders to the contrary."

"Roger, sir."



"And how long will it take the tank column to reach the site, General?"

"ETA is twenty minutes, Prime Minister."

"I see. The Minister for the Interior tells me you are keeping other ground forces away for now. Please keep it that way. From what I can gather, we have suffered far too many losses already."

"I agree, Prime Minister."

"The civil authorities have closed off the area to the public. I’ve instructed the security services to give you every assistance in this matter. Let’s try and keep further casualties to a minimum."

"Of course, Prime Minister."

"Thank you, General. Please let me know when there are any further developments."



"I can see them! They’re just sitting in their vehicles with the engines off! What are they waiting for?"

"I don’t know, Tara. Shall we go and ask them?"

"Yes, let's."


Conceptfan, Nov. 2006.

Chapter 9


"Might I remind the panel that the two miscreants have now been absent without authorisation for a period of over eight diarks. This will soon cease to be a case of truancy. It will be societal abandonment. The Justices will insist on a life sentence."

"No doubt they are already considering that for the offence of non-approved use of a transporter band."

"Well, if it really is societal abandonment, then that would automatically become theft of a transporter band, which itself carries a tariff of permanent incarceration."

"Enough! The Justices will decide on the severity of sentence due. That is not the reason I summoned you all here today. The information that I am about to reveal must not leave this chamber. We have strong reason to believe that the two absentees have used the misappropriated transporter band to travel to a forbidden destination. More specifically, to Planet Earth."

"Earth! Surely you jest, Excellency! Earth does not actually exist. It isn't mentioned in the Histories or the Knowledges. Only in the Stories. It is but a fairy tale, a magical, unreachable place where travellers are endowed with impossible abilities-"

"And that is the truth as far as Society is concerned. But Earth is actually a real place. Our ancestors removed it from the Histories and the Knowledges but they had no control over the Stories."

"But... if it is not in the Knowledges, how would the miscreants have known the co-ordinates for the transporter band?"

"When the ancestors realised they could not remove mention of Earth from the Stories, they created the Forbidden Galaxies to prevent any attempts to search for it. But over the aeons there have been several rogue travellers who have turned their backs on Society and conducted quests for the planet. Few have ever succeeded, and almost all of those were eliminated before they could share the co-ordinate data which they had discovered. Unfortunately, it seems one or two were able to somehow communicate the information. We believe one of the miscreants may have been in possession of a Stories Crystal which has been modified to include a list of co-ordinates within the Forbidden Galaxies, including data for Earth."

"If that's the case, and the Stories of Earth are actually true, then -"

"Then the miscreants might be unlikely to return of their own accord."

"Society could see the most severe of crimes go unpunished!"

"Their peers might seek to emulate them!"

"The authority of Law could be questioned!"

"Precisely. Which is why we must ensure that the two miscreants are brought before the Justices and their punishment be known to all."

"But... we cannot just wait in the hope that they return to face the consequences of their actions. What if they have abandoned Society?"

"Any delay now will not reflect well on the authority of Law."

"Agreed. I propose that we bring about the immediate return of the miscreants."

"Immediate? How?"

"By sending someone to fetch them."



"What do you think that bunch of Earthers is doing?"

"I don't know, Tara."

"But Lyda, it's so unfair! Your bunch came charging up to you. This lot were supposed to be mine and they've just stopped over there! I mean, you're fifty-two to six up in the game. How am I going to get a chance to score any points if my Earthers don't turn up."

"You're so sexy when you pout like that."

"Thanks. You're pretty sexy too. You were really, really sexy when you were destroying all those Earthers. I just want my chance to look that sexy for you."

"You will soon enough, Tara. Look, we've almost made it to them. When we get there, they're all yours. That's what we agreed."

"And what are you going to be doing, while I'm enjoying myself, Lyda?"

"I'm going to be watching you, Tara. Watching you being a sexy, all-powerful goddess."

"Oh, Lyda!"



"I'm sorry sir, but the road is closed to all traffic until further notice." The blonde policeman looked like he was hardly out of school as he bent low to speak through the driver's window of an expensive-looking car.

The be-suited middle-aged driver seemed unimpressed. "But I have an important meeting in thirty minutes. This delay is costing me money! What am I supposed to say to my client?"

"You can tell your client that the road is closed to all traffic until further notice, sir." suggested the young officer.

The business man bristled at the youth's cocky response. 'Give them a uniform and they think they're something special' he thought to himself. But as annoyed as he was, he wasn't one to openly disrespect a law enforcer. "Why is it closed?" he asked. "And when will it be opened again?"

"The road is closed on the orders of the Interior Minister due to an ongoing incident. Please turn your vehicle around and leave the area, sir."

"Can't I just wait here until it reopens?"

"No, sir. You must turn around and leave immediately. Otherwise I'll have to place you under arrest."

The driver sighed. Glancing at his rear-view mirror and noticing the queue of five other vehicles behind him, he carefully turned his steering wheel and executed a sharp U-turn as he'd been instructed.

"What's going on?" asked the woman in the next car. The young policeman repeated the road closure message. "Can you tell me the alternative route?" she asked.

"No, madame. There is no access for the time being. Please head back the way you've come."

"This is ridiculous!" snorted the woman as she began to turn her car around.

Behind the wheel of the fourth vehicle in the queue, a dishevelled man in his late thirties watched as the cars in front were sent away one by one. His instinct was telling him there was something out of the ordinary going on here. Something more than just a road closure. He tossed the half-smoked cigarette he had been holding out of the window, and opened the passenger-side glove compartment. After a few seconds rummaging through crumpled receipts and empty confectionery packaging, he fished out a laminated ID and clipped it to his unironed shirt. The badge read "PRESS. Thierry Beixer. Tele Infos Canal 7" Then he felt in the canvas bag lying on the seat beside him and carefully extracted a small handheld video camera.

"Sir, switch off the recording device," the young officer asked as Thierry pointed the camera at him.

"Press." announced Thierry as the youthful policeman approached his side-window.

"I appreciate that sir, but it is not safe to operate equipment whilst driving."

"But I'm not driving!"

"I'm sorry sir, but you need to leave this area immediately. The road is closed to all traffic. You need to put down the camera, turn around and head back up the motorway."

"You can't block a journalist from keeping the public informed!"

"Orders from the Interior Ministry," the officer explained. "You'll have to take it up with them, sir. After you have turned around and headed back away from here."


"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss that, sir. Please turn around and leave."

"But our viewers have a right to know what is going on in their region!"

"That is something you can explain to the Ministry later, sir. Please leave this area immediately."

"No, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why."

"Sergeant Chevalier!" the young policeman called over to his colleague. A dark-haired uniformed man who had been talking to the driver of one of the cars further down the queue, raised his head in response.

"What is it?" asked the superior officer.

"This gentleman is refusing to co-operate, sir."

The sergeant walked over to join his young charge. He rested his hand, very deliberately, on the butt of his holstered pistol and fixed Thierry with a glare. "Kindly place your camera on the seat beside you, and step out of the vehicle slowly," he ordered.

"Are you arresting me? Don't you know about the rights of the Press?"

"Believe it or not, sir," Chavalier responded in clipped tones, "I am familiar with the law. Now get out of the car!"

Shaking his head, Thierry reluctantly started to obey. He was growing ever more certain that there was something going on down the road Something worth taking a risk to report.



Five kilometres down the empty motorway from the Police roadblock, Corporal Fuchinger stared through his binoculars at the columns of black smoke still rising on the horizon. It looked like a small battle had taken place over there. He knew that Colonel Ferraud's men had been engaged by the hostile force that had caused all the local garrisons to be mobilised. He couldn't tell by the smoke if it was the army's vehicles or the hostiles' that had been hit, but he knew that it was very likely there had been casualties.

That incomplete knowledge, coupled with the orders he had subsequently received - orders to stop his convoy and not engage with whoever the enemy was - had left him feeling uneasy. He'd never known a situation like this, especially not on home soil.

"See anything?" asked Private Guardix, who was sitting beside him at the wheel of the motionless jeep.

"Negative." Fuchinger replied. "Just distant smoke and empty... What the hell? Private, hand me the radio." Guardix placed the two-way in his Corporal's waiting hand so that his superior could continue to observe whatever it was that had made him utter the exclamation without having to look away.

"Away party to base." Fuchinger called.

"This is base. Go ahead, Corporal." came the immediate response.

"Base, we have a visual here. Looks like... two civilians."

"Away party, please confirm last message."

"Confirmed, base. I have a definite visual of two civilians, approaching from the direction of the incident site. Do you require us to apprehend?"

"Negative, away party. Hold your position for now. Under no circumstances are you to engage."

"But, base, it's just a couple of chicks. In bikinis. They don't appear to be carrying anything at all..."

"Away party, please repeat the description of the civilians."

"Like I said, just a pair of girls in bikinis. They look young, and, er, hot. No weapons in sight, base. Are you sure I shouldn't send someone to at least question them."

"You have your orders, Fuchinger. Absolutely no engagement. Remain in contact and report any change in the situation."

"Roger, base." the Corporal released the 'talk' button on the radio. He kept his binoculars fixed on the two strangers. They seemed to be strolling towards him, the view in his lenses becoming clearer as they neared. "Fuck, I'd like to get my hands on either of those two," he thought to himself.



"Oooh! I think they've spotted us!" Tara could hardly contain her excitement as she shared her discovery with her lover. "Look, that one with the red hair and the eye-lenses is on his communicator..."

Lyda giggled. "Did you hear that?" she asked.

"Yeah," laughed Tara. "He's asking what they should do."

"Hmm," Tara added, a few moments later. "I don't think he's being very respectful, describing us as 'just a couple of chicks'. Doesn't he know that we're goddesses?"

"Apparently he doesn't Tara. Maybe you should put him right."

The taller girl turned her gorgeous face towards her companion, raising her eyebrows expectantly, the mischievous sparkle in her lovely brown eyes enough to grab her lover's attention completely. "Do you think I should?" she teased.

"Definitely!" said Lyda, almost pleading as she locked her own bright gaze on that of her slightly taller friend. "Unless," she added, "you don't mind if a pathetic Earther disrespects me..." Now, it was the darker-haired girl's turn to pout her magnificent lips in mock disappointment. The effect was exactly as Lyda had hoped.

"Of course not, Lyda. You're my beautiful goddess. I would never dream of letting one of these creatures speak poorly of you!"

"So..." Lyda bit her already-extended lower lip. The gesture made Tara's eyes burn with desire and, in turn, Tara's incandescent eyes filled Lyda with lust. She leant a little towards her friend and breathed "..what are you going to do about it, Tara?"



Once, when he'd only been on the force for a month, Sergeant Chavalier - or Constable Chavalier as he had been then - had let a man wanted for several burglaries pass right under his nose because the crook had flashed him a fake Press ID. They'd mocked him mercilessly back at the station when the story got out. For weeks, more experienced officers would walk up to him in the canteen, saying things like "Hi. I'm Adolf Hitler, here's my Press pass, thanks for letting me through."

Since then, he had never, ever, taken a member of the public's ID at face value. Besides, he really didn't appreciate this so-called journalist's attitude. He was sat in the squad car now, holding the alleged Press card in his left hand as he spoke on the radio with Control.

"I need a check on a Press ID. Name Beixer. Forename Thierry. Serial number 743398."

"Received. Checking that now for you."

"Thanks Control." Chavalier glanced up through his wind-shield at the scruffy owner of the ID, who was standing impatiently by the side of the roadblock. Chavalier's young colleague was with him. It looked like the rookie was trying to engage the jerk in conversation - no doubt some bullshit psychology trick the kid had learnt in training last week or whatever. Probably in a class entitled "Engaging with uncooperative members of the public: meeting hostility with politeness" or some such crap. Back in the day, he'd have cracked the arrogant lefty shit on the head with his baton and told the booking Sarge, and later the Judge, that the commie fucker had launched an unprovoked attack on him as he was trying to protect the public. Instead, his wet-behind-the-ears colleague was probably asking him what his favourite colour was...

"Five-eight, five-eight." the radio cackled, bringing Chavalier out of his nostalgic reverie. He grabbed the mic unit.

"Five-eight receiving." he said. "Go ahead."

"ID check completed, five-eight. Comes up as good and clean." Chavalier swore silently in disappointment.

"Roger, control. Thanks. Out." Then he replaced the mic in its holder, and got out of the car. He walked over to the two men by the side of the road, holding out the ID towards its owner.

"Right sir," he announced to Beixer. "My colleague and I are very busy and we'd prefer not to have to detain you today. I suggest you get in your car and drive back up the road as my colleague has instructed. Otherwise, I will arrest you. And in case you get any funny ideas involving driving in any direction other than back the way you came, please be aware that the Minister for the Interior has authorised me to use any force necessary to prevent that happening. He rested his right hand on the holster by his hip to ensure that his words carried their full intended meaning. "Is that clear, sir?"

"Crystal," muttered Thierry, making no effort to hide his displeasure. He started to walk back over towards his car. He was already thinking about the calls he was going to make, already calculating who was best placed amongst his local contacts to get him the info he wanted. But the calls would have to wait, it seemed, because although the younger cop had returned to the queue of vehicles arriving at the roadblock, the other one had rather menacingly accompanied Thierry to his car and was now standing a couple of meters away, glaring at him.

He put the key in the ignition. Something major had to be going on down the road, and he was going to find out what it was, whether the police and the fucking Minster for the Interior wanted him to or not.



The two stunning bikini-girls were still walking towards them. They were close enough now that Corporal Fuchinger and Private Guardix no longer needed to use binoculars to watch them. The two soldiers stared, increasingly awestruck by the astonishing beauty of the young women as they strolled, so fluidly, into ever clearer view. There was something hypnotic about the girls' movements; not merely the breath-takingly sexy confidence of their strides, but also the rhythmic swing of their arms and hips and the mind-melting undulations of their large, firm chests. The orders were not to intercept the gorgeous pair, but nothing had been said about visually feasting on the staggering glory of their bodies. Not that either man would have been able to resist.

Guardix squirmed in the driver's seat of the jeep. His body was betraying his growing lust and he was trying to conceal the evidence by clamping it between his thighs. Fuchinger's attempt to hide his own arousal relied on the weight of the lenses of the binoculars which he had placed in his lap. Had his colleague glanced down, he would have noticed the eyeglasses twitching and slightly rising. But Guardix's gaze, like the Corporal's was fixed, unmovingly, on the twin visions of feminine perfection that were sauntering towards them.

Neither of them had any room in his thoughts at that moment for the other men in the away party. All engines were off, as per the instructions from Colonel Gerbert back at base. The vehicles were still in the single-file convoy formation in which they'd been racing down the highway when the surprise order to stop and hold their position had been received. There were twenty well-armed soldiers in the truck parked immediately behind Fuchinger and Guardix: two in the cab, and a eighteen more seated on the benches inside the main body of the big transporter. In the second lorry, two more were up front and another sixteen in the back. At the rear of the column, another half-a-dozen filled an armoured van. In total, enough man- and fire-power to stop a small invasion.

The thick black smoke still curling skyward from the horizon did little to suggest that such a large group was an inappropriate response to whatever was out there. But the scale of the convoy, not to mention the volume of weaponry it controlled, contrasted absurdly with the two, clearly unarmed, teenage girls who were approaching the front of it. Something, Fuchinger was beginning to realise, didn't add up here.

First, there was the bizarre idea of two young girls, alright - fabulously attractive girls in, there was no denying, magnificently filled bikinis, apparently on their own, out here in an area that had been sealed off to the public because of some major event that apparently involved exploded trucks. Then there was the response he'd had from base when he'd described them. Not laughter, or surprise. Instead a stern instruction not to engage or intercept them. As though Colonel Gerbert had known something about these two, or about the situation in general.

The final piece of the jigsaw of Fuchinger's unease was the way the girls were behaving. If they were innocent civilians who had been caught up in whatever had caused all that black smoke, they should be looking shocked and scared. If they were hostile elements who had been in some way responsible for the thick dark fumes, they would surely be apprehensive about approaching a line of well-populated military vehicles. These two appeared to be on a pleasure-stroll. Or, more accurately perhaps, on some swimwear catwalk.

"Fuck, they're so gorgeous," thought the Corporal. Despite his growing concern, he simply could not tear his eyes away from the duo. The girls were looking at each other as they walked, steadily, calmly, sexily and unhesitatingly ever nearer. Grinning. Like close friends. Or something even closer than that. Such gorgeous, perfect, carefree smiles. Something just did not seem right. They were chatting, apparently oblivious of the smoke behind them or the soldiers in front of them. They even seemed to be exchanging a joke. They were even sexier when they laughed. And even more disconcerting. And they were getting closer every second.



"I think the two up front quite like us," chuckled Lyda. "Look at the way they're trying to hide their erections!"

"Poor boys, they can't help it. You're just so beautiful, Lyda. They're supposed to be fighters but they can't even constrain their own feeble bodies!"

"It's not ALL my fault," the shorter girl pointed out. "They're also staring at you, Tara. Can you hear the way the ginger one's heart is pounding?"

"Yes! And can you smell the hormones in their sweat?"

"Oh yeah. Earther males are so pathetic! You haven't even done anything yet and you're already controlling them."

"Well, I AM a goddess, after all," Tara stated, matter-of-factly.

"Mmmmm" purred Lyda, in agreement, her lovely eyes glowing as she met her lover's own electric gaze. She glanced briefly at the two squirming males sitting in the front transporter and then turned back to her companion. "Tara," she breathed, "I want you to show me just how much of a goddess you are. I NEED you to show me your power."

"Anything for you Lyda!" smiled the taller girl, turning her stunning, still grinning, face to the enrapt males.



Thierry had fired up the engine of his car. He could almost feel the angry stare of the older policeman as he reached for the gear lever and selected "reverse". Despite the menace in the copper's eyes, he could not resist one last attempt at journalistic enquiry. Leaning his head through the open driver's side window, he called out "Can't you just give me a rough clue what's going on over there?"

"Nothing that concerns you, sir. Now go!" came the angry response.

"Of course it concerns me," thought Thierry. "I'm a fucking reporter!" but he kept that to himself. The copper looked and sounded like he wouldn't have appreciated the remark. Slowly, he activated the accelerator, turning the wheel to begin the manoeuvre that would turn his car around.



The taller girl's smile simultaneously disturbed Fuchinger and excited him sexually. Now she had walked closer, the double-effect had become even greater. The two beautiful young women were no more than ten meters away. The Corporal and Private Guardix could now see their physical glory in full detail. The stunning faces, framed by long, straight shiny hair; jet black on the shorter girl, dark brown on her grinning friend. The clear, bright eyes, pretty noses and inviting mouths with rich, full, ripe lips and sexy white teeth. The slender, flawless necks, smooth round shoulders. The large, round, staggeringly firm busts, pressing against the thin material of the brief costumes, prominent nipples clearly evident beneath the magnificently overworked upper garments and, between those, heart-stopping curves of exposed, perfect feminine flesh forming the most desirable, deep cleavage that had ever been seen on Earth.

Beneath those splendid chests, lay flat, unblemished bellies with immaculate navels. The bottom halves of their outfits covered only their greatest intimacies, leaving the magnificent bows of desirable hips on show, and heavenly, creamy thighs that tapered into long, long, exquisitely-shaped legs which, eventually, ended in delicate-looking ankles and gorgeously pretty feet and toes. So much beauty. So much sexual appeal. Fuchinger and Guardix struggled to take it all in. The binoculars on the Corporal's lap tipped beyond the point of balance, slid, and fell noisily onto the floor of the jeep. Guardix's thighs lost the battle to contain his own arousal and his fully-erect organ popped out of their grasp. Both men sat with obviously tented trousers, unable to look away from the visions of female perfection that had engorged their manhoods.

The front of the jeep obscured the two soldier's laps from either girl's eyes. Fuchinger could see that. His brain was overworked, trying to take in the sheer beauty before him, but a small part of his cognitive process did register confusion as the taller girl seemed to glance downwards towards first his and then Guardix's groin. Confusion, because the way her smile broadened even further and her perfect eyebrows raised, made him feel like she had noticed his involuntary erection. The unmistakable, mischievous glint that appeared in her eyes seemed to confirm that. But it was impossible from her angle! The corporal's sense of unease grew. There was something about these girls, the thought, even beyond their astonishing physical appearance. Something extraordinary...



Tara examined the two fully upstanding male organs in turn, her remarkable glinting eyes peering right through the complex layers of the primitive vehicle, and the fabric of the men's garments. The effect of her beauty on the creatures amused her. She knew that Lyda was watching her, anticipating her next actions, and that thought was far more stimulating than anything the Earther males had to offer.

The grin was fixed on her face as she slowly, languidly, approached the front of the vehicle containing the two awestruck males. She made sure that she swayed slightly as she walked, moving with the supreme confidence of someone who is fully aware of the immeasurable power contained within her magnificent body. The undulations of her torso caused her glorious large breasts to bounce a little with every fluid stride, accelerating the two male heartbeats and increasing the levels of hormones detectable in their perspiration and exhalations, just as she intended.

Lyda, meanwhile, stayed still, her arms hanging casually by her sides, her feet planted unmovingly on the vehicle track about a dozen or so paces in front of the vehicle containing the two near-hypnotised males. The girls had agreed that this group of Earthers were Tara's exclusively and the shorter of the pair was more than happy to play the role of observer for a while. She had already started to do just that. The swinging of her lover's hips as she walked away from her towards the primitive transporter and the resulting erotic oscillations of Tara's perfect pert rear added fuel to Lyda's arousal.

Tara was relishing the opportunity to put on a show for her companion. She knew that Lyda would be enjoying the movements of her buttocks as she sashayed towards the front of the Earther vehicle, so she took her time with each sexy, bouncy step. The effect of the front of her body on the two males only increased as she closed the gap to their machine and the mixture of desire and confusion on the two faces thrilled her.

Finally, she reached the transporter. The two men inside were still about two strides' length away, separated from her by the front section of their vehicle which, Tara had noticed disinterestedly, using her ability to see through solid objects, contained the thing's primitive motor. When she gazed right through the intervening metal, she saw that both males' organs were still saluting her pulchritude. Her smile grew and her eyes glinted with delight as an idea formed in her mind.

Moving slowly for the benefit of her audience both in front and behind, she spread her arms as wide as they could go and began to lean forward. As she bent at the waist, the supreme view offered by her increasingly pendant breasts drew gasps from the two males. She made sure that Lyda was not neglected either as she leant over, sticking out her behind and shaking it slightly. She was rewarded with a quiet "Mmmmm" from her lover.

Eventually she was bent almost at ninety degrees. Her hands reached for the sides of the vehicle, immediately below the top of the front portion. Her large nipples, tenting out the fabric of her brief upper garment, were almost touching the vehicle. Her superhumanly firm, big breasts, now displayed at their optimum, made the two males openly pant as they stared, utterly transfixed. She turned to each of them in turn but found that she could not meet their eyes with her own, so intently were both men focussed on her glorious, maximised cleavage.



Fuchinger couldn't help himself. Never in his life had he experienced anything as erotic or as mesmerising as the sight of the taller of the two girls leaning over the hood of his jeep. Lust overrode his thought processes. A small part of his brain was aware that he should've been reporting the girl's uninvited approach to base. Their orders were not to engage with the stunning duo in any way. Nothing had been said about what they should do if one of the beauties initiated the engagement herself. But he was in a kind of deep trance now, lost in the unfathomably sexy valley between the girl's magnificent breasts. If he could have snapped out of his reverie and looked to his right, he would have seen that Private Guardix was similarly under her spell. Instead he just stared and stared whilst the throbbing of his engorged shaft between his legs continued unabated.

Somewhere in the corner of his mind, he became aware of a strange, low, creaking, almost groaning, sound. The noise grew in volume and intensity, demanding his attention, but he remained too enrapt to respond to it. All he knew was that the sound was not coming from the girl's amazing chest, because his eyes were refusing to point at anything else. The bizarre sound continued, if anything getting louder. The tiny potion of his brain that was registering audio detected a definite metallic tone to the noise. Still he did not move his gaze towards its source.



Tara was carefully pushing her flat open hands into the sides of the front of the vehicle. The sounds the metal made in protest as it bent and yielded to her wonderful strength delighted her. She could feel the limitless power in her long, slender arms as she compressed the helpless casing of the transporter. The solid material was surrendering without her noticing any resistance, so complete was her dominance over mere metal. She gently squeezed, effortlessly creating deep dents in the vehicle under her feminine palms.

She knew that it would be easy - supremely easy - to continue compressing the thing, bringing her hands together, squashing and tearing even the solid engine within until her fingers met in the middle, making the material trapped between them boil away to nothing, shearing the front of the vehicle completely in half. But that was not her intention. She merely wanted to crush the sides of the transporter a little. Just enough to ensure she had a good grip.

She almost burst out laughing at the two males who seemed unable to let either the racket of the futilely protesting metal or the obvious damage she was causing to their vehicle distract them from the sight of her pendant breasts straining against her upper garment. She hoped that Lyda, standing some ten paces or so behind her, was not quite as hopelessly engrossed in the view of her rear. She didn't want her lover to miss the next part.

Tara's sensitive hearing picked up voices coming from the front of the big vehicle that was stationed behind the one she was tormenting. Without looking, she could tell that one of the men in the front section was talking into his communicator. Clearly the greater distance from her, not to mention the higher position of the seats, meant that although the speaking male could see her, he had not become too entranced by her to think and act. He seemed to be describing her actions to some remote superior. She paid him no mind. It would be his turn later. Right now, she was playing with the two immediately in front of her.



The Corporal and Guardix seemed too shocked to react. Or maybe, it occurred to Private Dessari, they were completely absorbed by the sight of the girl's incredible tits as she leant over the front of the open-topped jeep. From his angle, up in the truck's cab, he could only guess what the view must've been like. He'd seen the two girls approach the front of the convoy, and watched the taller one saunter up to the jeep, and he had not been able to help noticing the sexy glory of their bodies. Even at his distance - about twenty meters from the nearest of the two - he could appreciate the beauty of their faces. But he was still puzzled as to why neither Fuchinger nor Guardix had informed Base of the latest turn of events.

If he hadn't witnessed it himself, of course, Dessari would never have believed it possible. The windows were shut, but he still managed to hear the sound of steel groaning as the girl seemed to squeeze it with her bare hands. Confirmation came from Private Kircher seated beside him in the form of the astonished utterance "Oh my fucking god! Can you see that? What the fuck is she doing?!?"

Dessari had immediately grabbed the in-cab radio. "Away Party Unit 2 to Base. Away Party Unit 2 to Base."

"This is Base. Proceed Unit 2."

"Sir, there's a girl... er, two girls, but one of them has walked up to Unit 1 and now she's, she's er, she's squeezing the front of the jeep with her hands!"

"Repeat that Unit 2"

"There's a girl in a bikini and she's crushing the front of Fuchinger's jeep with her hands! I just saw it. Kircher saw it too! She just walked up to it and put her hands on the side and started to cr- Oh my god! She's... she's lifting the jeep up! She's lifting the whole fucking jeep up with her hands!"

"Fucking hell fucking hell fucking hell!" cried Kircher beside him.

"Unit 2, get out of there now! Repeat: get out of there now! Away party all units. Evacuate immediately! All units evacuate immediately! All units evacuate immediately! Immediately!"

Dessari was already firing up the truck's engine.



When the creaking of tortured metal stopped, Fuchinger and Guardix barely registered. When it started again, at a different pitch, they were only dimly aware. When they felt the floor of the jeep begin to shift they started to notice. When the view in front of them shifted, they became fully aware. The girl was straightening up. They could tell by the way her chest was moving. But her enchanting breasts were not rising relative to their eyes as they might have expected. That's when they both realised that the jeep was moving. It was rising. Along with the girl's torso. Finally, the spell was partially broken. Enough for both men to turn their gaze to one side and then the other and for their brains to start to piece together the puzzle.

The noise... that had been the girl squashing the sides of the front of the jeep with her hands. And the movement now... that was the girl lifting the vehicle with those same hands. The whole jeep! With nothing but her hands! Her beautiful, slender, long feminine arms did not look like they could manage even a fiftieth of its weight but, as her body straightened, with only the subtlest glimpse of muscle under the flawless skin of her upper arms, they were rising into the air.

Guardix peered over his side of the vehicle in panic, and saw the road surface further away than it should have been. Further away and getting further still. He turned back to the girl, looking at her pretty arms, searching for a sign of some mechanical device or crane and finding none. Shocked, terrified and confused, he fumbled for his service pistol.

Beside him, Corporal Fuchinger leant over his side of the jeep, certain that if he got his head far enough out, he'd be able to spot the hydraulic jack that he was sure the girl had somehow slipped unnoticed underneath the vehicle. What he saw shook him to his core. There was nothing. Nothing but air between the bottom of the chassis and the road. The radio was cackling. Orders to evacuate immediately. He brought his head back in and turned his neck. There had to be some kind of forklift behind them. But no, there was nothing. Just a few meters of empty road and then Dessari's truck.

The evacuation order was repeated. He heard the big lorry's engine revving up. He turned around, and found himself face to face with the girl. So beautful. So delicate-looking. How... how was she doing this... She was smiling! As if picking up a jeep with two men in it didn't even cause her strain. Fuck, what was he supposed to do? How could he follow the evacuation order if the wheels of his vehicle were hovering a meter above the road? He glanced over at Guardix and saw that he was releasing the safety on his pistol. "Shoot her!" he yelled.



The transporter and its occupants felt as good as weightless to Tara. With her freshly-installed, improvised grip points, she would happily have held the whole thing out in front of her until the end of time. She'd giggled as the two males inside seemed to take turns checking over the side of the vehicle and then looking back at her, unable to comprehend her strength. She completely ignored the communicators barking out instructions for the men to leave the scene. Whoever this "Base" creature was, its orders were irrelevant. It was she, and she alone, who decided who would leave. It didn't matter if the other vehicles started their engines and tried to flee. She knew she would be able to out-run them. When she chose to do so.

The only urgency she felt was in carrying out her plan for the two males. She thought Lyda might appreciate what she had in mind for them. But the panic now gripping them might start to have an undesired physiological effect on the pair if she waited too long. She was aware of the weapon being readied by one of them and the desperate calling of the other for that weapon to be used on her. She let him activate the useless noisy device twice, paying no heed at all to the two pathetic pellets that bounced worthlessly from her face. Her hesitation was worthwhile just to see the stunned expressions of both men as they realised the ineffectiveness of the firearm. She hoped Lyda could see them too. The two girls shared a love of seeing Earthers pull shocked "my-weapon-doesn't-even-scratch-her" faces. Behind her, the dark-haired girl's familiar laugh served as reassurance that Lyda had not missed the moment.



She was fucking bulletproof! Fuchinger had seen the sparks as two bullets had ricochetted from the girl's gorgeous, grinning face. She could pick up a jeep and she was bulletproof! What the hell was she? He knew one thing, and that was that he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. His mind was racing. He thought about the black smoke of burning vehicles he'd seen on the horizon earlier... had she caused that? Suddenly, it seemed more than possible. Was the jeep about to end up in a smoky wreck? With him inside it? Shit, he had to get out... Now!

Guardix had also seen the two flashes as the shots hit the girl. And he was sure he'd heard the other girl laughing immediately afterwards. His brain was struggling to get to grips with what his eyes and ears were reporting. He could hear the engines of the rest of the away party. Evacuation. Yes, that was what he was going to do. Bail.



Thierry had completed the first curve of the three-point-turn that would place him on the road headed away from the two cops and their roadblock. Under the unceasing stare of the older of the two enforcement officers, he pretended to be struggling with the gear lever whilst stealing one last glance at the stretch of highway on the other side of the temporary barrier. Was that... smoke he could see? Like from a fire? Was that the 'incident' that had brought about the road closure?

If it was a fire, it was exactly the kind of story he should be reporting. Then again, a fire wouldn't normally lead to this much security. Not this far away, anyway. And surely, he would have heard or seen the fire brigade responding... No, this was something altogether more... interesting than just a fire. The fire, he guessed, was just a part of it.

"Go!" shouted the older cop at him, furiously. Thierry put his car into forward gear and completed the manoeuvre. He began to drive away, as slowly as he dared, eyes darting between the road ahead and the faint traces of black smoke he could just make out in his rear view mirror. He wished he knew what was going on over there.



Tara noticed the two males beginning to try and gather their feet, presumably so that they could jump out of the vehicle she was holding so easily in the air. The ungainliness of Earthers still amazed her. So slow. So clumsy. She was pleased to note that they were both still displaying the most evident sign of their lust for her. "Lyda will like this," she thought, slightly lowering her arms, and with them, the men and their vehicle. Then she raised them sharply, keeping her hands firmly in place on the front of the transporter.

It was an easy motion for her, the most casual of fluent movements, but the force she transmitted through her long, shapely arms was more than sufficient to launch the machine skyward. If only she hadn't been gripping it so securely. Instead, the vehicle only rose as far as her hands moved. But she had no hold on the two males inside. The momentum her slender arms imparted transferred through the transporter and into the stunned duo. They screamed as they shot directly upwards.

Now that the vehicle was empty, its amusement value had plummeted. Tara glanced briefly at the sky, noting that, although the two dislodged men were finally beginning to slow, they were still gaining height, the astonishing power of her toss not quite yet exhausted. She had plenty of time to get rid of the transporter. A flick of both her wrists sent it away from her, rocketing parallel to the ground, travelling many times faster than its engines had ever managed. It remained airborne, travelling a distance of several hundred strides before crashing to the ground, bouncing, hopping a further dozen strides and then crashing down again, this time with a flashing crimson explosion that scattered burning debris over a wide area.

Meanwhile, the two males had finally begun to descend. She'd flung them straight up, so now they were falling towards the same spot from which they had been launched. Tara took a step forward and carefully followed the two descents. The redhead was coming down slightly to the left of her, and the other one slightly to the right. As the screaming pair were just above her head, her two arms flashed out, faster than an Earther could follow. With deliberate precision, she closed her left hand over the redhead's groin, a mere instant before he hit the ground, curling her fingers around his still-erect shaft through his garments, letting her arm drop slightly to absorb just enough of his momentum and avoid the sudden stop that would very likely have amputated his masculinity. A fraction later, she performed an identical manoeuvre with the other male using her right hand to trap his engorged organ and sharply slow his fall.

Both males were yelling frantically. They hung helplessly, bent backwards, their hands almost touching their heels as Tara held them fast by their penises. She lifted her hands over her head, effortlessly raising the two men until they were both dangling with their upside down faces in front of her delighted grin. Turning gracefully on her pretty bare heels, she whirled around to proudly show Lyda her screaming double catch.

"Impressive," commented the shorter girl. The sight of Tara, holding the two males by their organs, showing off her power and her complete dominance over the Earther men, hugely aroused her. She wanted to see more. "But the others are getting away," she reminded.

"Oh Lyda," sighed Tara in mock admonishment. "They're only Earthers. They won't get far. Besides, I'm not finished with these two yet."



Private Guardix screamed. He screamed in terror. He screamed in agony. He screamed in the vain hope of attracting rescue. He screamed because there was nothing else he could do.

He'd been about to jump out of the jeep when the incredible girl had tossed him and Fuchinger into the air as if the vehicle was as light as a frying pan and he and the Corporal were nothing more than a pancake. He yelled in shock as he saw her dwindling ever further below. After a while he'd started to fall and his cries became those of fear. Fear of dying when he hit the ground. And then, just as he'd closed his eyes anticipating his final moment, something incredible had happened. A sharp pain from his sexual organ as his descent, instead of ending with a hard impact, slowed sharply as if his fall had been broken by a cushion of dense air. That was when he'd started to scream in pain. Opening his eyes he saw the cause of his agony. The girl had caught him by the erection she herself had inspired moments before. Now she was dangling his entire body by her one-handed grip on his shaft, raising him to her face as though he was weightless, and smiling at him! The smile terrified him. With what little air he had left, he continued to yell.

Fuchinger had suffered the same experience. Being pitched violently into the sky. Falling apparently to his death, only to be saved from becoming a splat on the road by a petite, feminine fist gripping his manhood horrendously tightly. And then being hoisted by that grip, helpless, his whole frame hanging painfully from it. Like his colleague, the Corporal's only response was to scream.

They were both dimly aware of their captor spinning around as she held them. Neither man heard the other girl speak above their own yells. Nor did they see her because they were both dangling in front of the one holding them, helpless to move in any way other than the one in which their tormentor chose. They were right in front of her grinning face, so the two of them clearly heard her say that she was not finished with them. Their screams were hoarse now, nearly exhausted. They felt themselves being carried through another half-turn, and just about saw the girl's smiling lips reconfiguring into a kiss-shape. They both felt a sudden, strong, warm breeze, followed by an easing of the crushing intimate grip on their organs. Then they each experienced a ferocious jolt, almost like being hit by a speeding train. Then nothing.



Lyda was right, of course. The other Earthers were trying to escape in their primitive transporters. Tara knew it was time to say goodbye to the two she was holding and go and play with some fresh ones. Still dangling the screaming duo in front of her face, she spun away from her friend, until she was facing along the long vehicle track in the direction of the fleeing machines. She pushed out her full, ripe, sexy lips and began to blow, softly, enjoying the way the creatures in her grasp swung away from her in the wind she created.

She released her twin grips on the males' organs and simultaneously increased the force of her exhalation. The pair shot away from her, carried by her breath, spinning and soaring. The roar of air that she channelled through her desirable mouth was loud, but she could tell that the men had stopped screaming. She continued to blow, forcing their now lifeless bodies further, faster, higher - effortlessly propelling them into the distance, over the cluster of escaping vehicles and beyond, towards the horizon. Then she stopped the jet of her breath, letting her lips shape themselves into an irresistible smile once more.

Tara turned to see her lover's reaction over her shoulder. Lyda caught her eye and erotically licked her lips. Tara raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Wait here," she breathed, "I'll be right back with some more."

"Good," approved Lyda, lustfully. She watched in delightful anticipation as Tara spun on her heels and set off down the vehicle track after the group of three moving transporters.



"That column of smoke wasn't there a moment ago," Thierry thought as he flicked yet another lingering glance away from the road and towards his rear-view mirror. "Something must've just exploded over there. And it's a long way from the other smoke-sources..."

Not for the first time he wondered what the hell was going on. He was about two hundred meters down the highway from the road block now. Far enough, he figured, to be able to pull over and stop without the angry old cop noticing, at least for a couple of minutes. Enough time to try and grab some video of the smoke, and maybe make a call or two. He eased the car to the side of the road, cut the engine and snatched up the handheld video camera from the front passenger seat. Then he climbed out and rested the camera on the roof, switched it on, and rotated it towards the fresh black column of fumes on the horizon.

At first, he thought the grey specks were birds. The two shapes emerged from the obscurity of the pillar of dark smoke, travelling, it seemed, more or less parallel with the ground. But as each second went by, the specks grew in size. The were not grey, they were dark green. They were not birds, they were... they were... fucking hell! He instinctively checked that he was still filming, still capturing the incredible sight. There was no doubt about it, the two shapes were people! In military uniforms. Flying through the air, from at least a couple of kilometres away. He carefully moved the camera to follow the trajectory of the two soldiers. They were losing height now, getting closer to the ground. As he turned the video recorder, the police roadblock came in to view.

Even from two hundred meters away, he heard the smashing of glass as one of the mysterious soldiers crashed down onto the front of the parked police car. He was glad he did not hear the noise of the other one impacting with the road a moment later.

There were distant screams. Thierry grabbed the camera and jumped back into his car. He headed back towards the roadblock. Two or three private vehicles passed him at speed, heading in the opposite direction. He recalled the reporters' cliché about having to run towards what everyone else is running away from.

When he reached the roadblock he saw what had become of the soldier who'd landed in the road. He resisted the urge to vomit, and continued on to the police car. The roof had been caved in, the body lying on top a twisted mess of bizarrely arranged limbs. The younger of the two cops he'd seen earlier was crouched beside the damaged vehicle. As Thierry drove past, he saw what looked like the arm of the older officer sticking out of the wreckage.

The young policeman, completely absorbed in the task of trying to help his trapped, wounded colleague, did not notice Thierry slowly driving past, riding his car off the highway into the wild grass verge and circumnavigating the roadblock before rejoining the empty road on the other side, heading for the source of the smoke and whatever had caused the two soldiers to be thrown thousands of meters through the air.



"Oh my god! Did you see that?!" Private Kircher had yelled in response to the sight of two uniformed men flying through the air high over the truck. They were driving back up the road in the direction they had come from originally, eating up the highway at a shade over a hundred kilometres an hour - as fast as the lorry's engine could manage with twenty men inside - but the two airborne men had soared past overhead so quickly, it was as if they were still parked. "Is that... Fuchinger and Guardix? Fuck, what did she do to them?"

Both Kircher and Dessari watched though the windscreen in shock as the two figures continued their bizarre flight, passing high over the top of the truck in front. Now that their convoy, minus the lead jeep, had turned around, they were at the back of the line of vehicles, behind the armoured van and the other truck full of men.

"Those girls must be aliens! You saw the way that one picked up the jeep... I mean, how can a chick like that do that?" speculated Dessari, trying to come to terms with what he had just witnessed, his eyes flicking from his rapidly-vanishing colleagues shooting through the air to concentrate on the road in front once more.

"Or robots," suggested Kircher.

"They didn't look like robots to me," Dessari commented, recalling the sight of the two sexy, bikini-clad young women.

After a pause, during which both men contemplated the sheer beauty of the mysterious duo, Kircher asked "Don't you think it's strange that Colonel Gerbert didn't sound shocked when you told him about the jeep... he just issued the evac command... you know, like he knew something he hadn't told us."

"Yeah, now you mention it... Oh jesus! All that smoke we saw... that was from Colonel Ferraud's team! It must've been those girls! That's why we suddenly got the do-not-engage order! That's why Gerbert told us to run when we told him about the jeep! He knew those chicks would attack us too if we didn't get away from them..."

"Fuck, man, what the hell is going on?" asked Kircher.

Whatever the answer to that question was, both he and Dessari were glad to be travelling away from it at top speed.



The line of fleeing Earther vehicles had never been far enough away from Tara to have left her sight, but now that she was jogging after them, the distance was closing with every stride of her, beautiful long legs. The primitive engines were so weak, she did not even need to hurry to out-pace them. She was no more than about two hundred paces from the back of the nearest transporter, one of a pair of the larger, elongated machines. She could clearly see the uniformed males seated in the big rear container section, each clasping one of the useless weapons that the creatures seems so fond of.

Peering through the thin fabric partition at the far end, she spotted two more men in the smaller cab that housed the vehicle's control mechanisms. Her lovely, bright eyes saw beyond them, too, examining the identical big vehicle full of males in front, and a third, smaller machine at the head of the column. In total, there were forty-four men spread over three vehicles.

She thought of her lover, waiting for her to return, as she'd promised, with another batch of Earthers. She thrilled at the idea of showing off her limitless power in front of Lyda, anticipating the reaction she would provoke as she did so. She pictured herself, grabbing a handful or two of helpless creatures and carrying them back, having fun with them, then heading off once more to collect the next group. How many journeys would she need to empty the trio of vehicles? Would Lyda enjoy watching her fetching them back in instalments?

As Tara jogged comfortably along the Earther vehicle track, rapidly gaining on the three transporters, her mind filled with the possibilities afforded her by her amazing power. She knew that in moments she could reach the nearest big machine. She'd already counted the eighteen men seated in the large rear compartment. Too many to carry by hand at once without destroying them before she got them back to her lover. Was there another way... something that Lyda might find even more impressive... Perhaps a way she might gather them all in one go...

Tara could not help but smile. Being on Earth meant she possessed so many extraordinary abilities, so much sheer power, that she could achieve almost any feat that her imagination could dream up, no matter how astonishing. Now, she had thought of an idea, a method for bringing all the fleeing men she was chasing down back to her waiting lover in a single trip. Lyda wanted to see a demonstration of her power, and she would oblige. Yes, she knew what she was going to do. Effortlessly, she increased the pace of her stunning legs, doubling the speed of her astonishing run, racing towards the three speeding vehicles, closing the distance as though they weren't moving at all. Oh, this was going to be fun!



"What the... Oh, fuck! No!" Kircher cursed as he spotted the tiny, partially blurred, figure in the side mirror. He didn't need a second look to confirm all his initial fears, but he took one all the same. The blood drained from his features as he turned to his companion.

"What is it?" Dessari demanded. The panic on Kircher's face told him that he wasn't going to like the answer.

"The girl... the one who picked up the jeep..." blurted the Private.

"What about her?" Dessari prompted, as a feeling of dread began to crystallise in his stomach.

"She's... she's... following us! She's running after us!"

Dessari glanced away from the road to check the view in the far-side mirror. The colour faded from his features as his eyes verified Kircher's claim.

"How's she moving so fast?" Dessari wondered out loud, his growing fright evident. "What the fuck is she?"

"She's gaining on us!" Kircher announced after another brief view of the side-mirror. "Go faster! Go faster!"

"We're flat out already!" responded Dessari, exasperatedly.

"Fu-" Kircher began, but he was interrupted by the voice of one of the men from the main portion of the lorry before he could complete the expletive.

"Dessari!" Private Baillis had thrust his head around the loose canvass sheeting that separated the driver's cab from the main container where the bulk of the men were seated, "there's a girl sprinting behind us! She's running faster than the lorry! She's going to catch up with us!"

The girl catching up with them was precisely what Dessari and Kircher were most afraid of at that moment.

"Shoot her!" yelled Kircher, now close to panic.

"But, the order was not to engage. Colonel Ger-" Baillis queried the instruction from his fellow Private.

"Fucking shoot her!" screamed Dessari, flicking his eyes momentarily to the mirror beside Kircher before turning his head over his shoulder and barking through the canvass to the men behind "All of you! Shoot her! Shoot her now!"

Baillis immediately withdrew his head to join the other men in the back of the vehicle, shifting into position, readying their weapons, those nearest the back of the lorry crouching, those nearest the cab standing. For a few seconds the truck filled with the clicking of safety catches being released as eighteen men raised their guns and pointed them at the rapidly nearing figure of the gorgeous young bikini-adorned woman who, somehow, was sprinting along the road in superhuman pursuit.



By the time the first of the eighteen males in the back of the closest transporter had finally spotted her approach, Tara had already studied the faces of each one of the creatures in each of the three vehicles she was chasing. Even whilst running at almost twice the speed generated by the noisy engines - a pace which her shapely long legs found effortless to achieve and equally untaxing to maintain indefinitely - she was able to leisurely view her prey. Her remarkable bright eyes saw through metal and fabric, allowing her to examine, in as much detail as she wanted, those males located in the front two transporters, supposedly hidden from her view. She continued to jog after the column of vehicles, certain of her vastly superior speed, waiting until she was close enough to be noticed.

They moved so slowly! She was certain that the transporters were being driven at their maximum velocity. She was just as sure that the men in the closest machine, having at last become aware of her presence, were preparing to assault her with their pointless weapons as rapidly as they could. But, compared with the speeds at which Tara could operate, both the vehicles and the males inside them might as well have been stationary. Whenever she chose to, she could out-manoeuvre them all before any of them could react. Instead, she opted to hold back, patiently waiting for the dozen-and-a-half firearms to be laboriously aligned with her and, eventually, activated.

She lifted her face to the men staring at her along the lengths of their weapons, and smiled a broad, radiant grin that complimented her stunning features and showcased the sexy perfection of her teeth. Her beauty momentarily overwhelmed those with the clearest view of her. Her cheerful expression contrasted the determined faces of the males pointing their supposedly lethal devices at her, and she could tell that it unnerved them. Her smile remained fixed.

Tara knew that those weapons would soon be active, spewing out streams of hot metal in an attempt to kill her. Her sensitive ears had clearly heard the yells of "Shoot her!" But her smile was not in anticipation of the imminent barrage. She was not grinning at the thought of experiencing the almost-non-existent effects of Earther weaponry against her stunning body. She had faced these creatures' supposedly deadly force on enough occasions to know, with complete certainty, that any sensations generated by the impending hail of ammunition would be insignificant to her. Reacting to such a pathetic barrage, let alone to the mere expectation of it, was beneath a goddess like Tara.

But the confusion and horror of Earther males as they discovered how useless their normally-lethal weapons became when directed at her and Lyda was a delightfully stark reminder of her and her friend's total superiority over everything and everyone on the planet. Seeing the disbelief and panic - not to mention awe - that the two of them provoked whenever they demonstrated some small aspect of their seemingly limitless power always thrilled her. With eighteen of the creatures poised to open fire on her, she could not help but beam at the prospect of the collective shock and terror she was about to witness.



Considering the speed at which the truck was moving and the confusion caused by both the girl's superhuman running and her astonishing beauty, they had done well to have taken up firing positions so quickly. Her gorgeous but totally inappropriate grin made Private Fernandez and his colleagues in the back of the lorry uneasy. Why would anyone, least of all an unarmed young woman in a bikini, smile so happily - and, he had to acknowledge to himself, sexily - when faced with a dozen-and-a-half men aiming rifles and machine guns? In such a moment of bewilderment, the certainty of a repeated, shouted instruction was welcome. From the cab, Dessari and Kircher were screaming at them to shoot the girl, and Fernandez, along with seventeen others in the back, obeyed.

The noise as so many weapons fired was deafening. The girl was matching their top speed with just her glorious legs, and she was close enough that Fernandez could see where some of the bullets hit her. He saw the flashes and blurs as she was struck, over and over again, tens, no... hundreds, probably thousands of times. He saw shots pinging from her lovely face, from her bright, open eyes, from the surface of the perfect teeth displayed in her glorious smile. He saw slugs bouncing on her smooth, bare shoulders and from her knees and thighs as she ran. He saw bullets rebound after hitting the exposed curves of her glorious, large, firm, round breasts. And he saw her still upright, still running, still smiling throughout, as if they weren't shooting at all. But he was shooting. They all were. And they were hitting her constantly. He stared as he sprayed his own ammunition over her magnificent face and body, his mind unable to process the information his eyes were providing.

Private Houlot was stood at the rear of the group, near the centre of the men, behind Ferndandez and several others who were crouched in front. He too could spot some of the countless impacts against the girl's lovely skin. From his more elevated perspective, Houlot could see more of her breath-taking chest than Fernandez. He stared downwards along the barrel of his rifle, telling himself he was aiming for her heart as he kept his aim and his eye locked, unwaveringly, on the spectacularly deep, and overwhelmingly erotic valley between her two glorious breasts, firing off shot after shot, hopelessly lost in a cocktail made up of lust and befuddlement. Lust at the perfection of the girl's body, and befuddlement at the way his bullets, and those of the other men, were failing to leave even so much as the tiniest scratch or bruise on that perfection. He was sure he had seen one of his shots ricochet from the luscious inner curve of her right breast. He was just as certain that he'd observed another spinning away from the top of her other, identically magnificent mound. But there was no wounding, no blood, no blemish of any description on her sexy glory. Unable to think of anything else, he continued to shoot, again and again, and to stare, awestruck and entranced.

A streak of glinting silver, lasting no more than an instant, so brief it had to have been at the very limit of his ability to perceive, flicked up between the top edge of the left cup of her superbly stuffed bikini and the tip of her raised chin before vanishing, another tiny glimmer of proof that the soldiers' ammunition was finding its intended target. Houlot fired at her unworldly chest again, this time without being able to observe the trajectory of his shot. All he noticed was the complete lack of effect. He squeezed the trigger once more. Was that a spark he momentarily spotted on the irresistibly rounded, bare flesh just above her brief upper garment? If it was, it had left no trace. He activated the rifle again with no noticeable result. Had he been able or willing to tear his gaze away from its fix on the girl's incredible chest, he would have seen her dazzling smile, undimmed and unaltered since he and the others began shooting.

None of them had stopped firing. Houlot sent two more killer bullets at his chosen target, failing to spot either impact. The road was smooth as the lorry continued to speed along, but the vibrations from the flat-out engine made consistent shooting a challenge. He paused for a moment to refine his aim before his next effort. This time he did see the bullet. Not as a flash or a streak bouncing from her, but as a stationary, undeniable, solid object, wedged between her twin glories, trapped immovably in her amazing cleavage. The speed and power of the shot had been overpowered by her feminine curves, leaving the defeated slug stuck fast in the heart-stopping space bordered either side by her perfect, perfect breasts. It remained in place, held by the superhuman firmness of the girl's mounds, even as she ran, through an unceasing rain of other bullets, at over a hundred kilometres an hour, grinning all the while.



Tara followed the ridiculously slow Earther vehicle, carefully regulating the pace of her jog so that she remained a constant distance behind it, well within sight of the creatures within and comfortably inside the range of the noisy and ineffective weaponry they were deploying. There was no urgency; her sexy, long superhuman legs were capable of matching the output of the transporter's engines indefinitely, with no chance of tiring. Likewise, there was no limit to the ability of her goddess' body to withstand the barrage of ammunition striking its flawless skin without sustaining even the tiniest blemish. The countless metal pellets that hit her head, her face, her magnificent torso and her legs with every stride caused her no discomfort.

Her only sensation was delight. Delight as she observed, individual by individual, the shock and disbelief etched on the features of the males inside the vehicle. Delight as she slowly took in the multiple displays of panic, confusion and horror. And delight in the knowledge that those desperate expressions were provoked by the collective realisation of the utter ineffectiveness of an assault that would have been instantly fatal to every living creature on the planet bar herself and her waiting lover. Tara loved being on Earth. Above all, she loved being completely and unchallengeably superior to anything it could offer.

The little metal pellet that had buried itself between her breasts was merely the latest manifestation of that superiority. She knew where it was trapped without having to drop her gaze. She could feel it being squeezed by her perfect feminine flesh as she continued to run, her grin and her bright, clear, beautiful eyes fixed on the increasingly panicked men inside the vehicle all the while. The sensation created by the still hot pellet as it rested, enveloped by her curves, was pleasant, just as the sensation when it had initially struck her at speed had been. Or when each of the thousands of other similar bits of ammunition had hit her face and body over the past few moments.

She had felt each and every impact in much the same way she was experiencing the sensations generated by the heated pellet stuck in her glorious cleavage: as a source of delight. It was as if the entire universe had moulded itself around her and Lyda, its physical laws and rules modifying so that the two girls could feel only pleasure. They were far from immune to sensations here on Earth, they were merely incapable of experiencing them any other way than as pure enjoyment. Nothing could hurt them or cause them discomfort. Everything... from supposedly-deadly impacts to exposure to extreme heat, from the pathetically weak futile struggles of fragile Earthers to the incalculably powerful passionate embraces of each other... everything on this planet was pleasure for Tara and Lyda.

There was no need for Tara to look away from the men she was chasing in order to locate the piece of metal lodged in the wonderful valley of her chest. She merely let her fingers be guided by the enjoyable feelings it was generating, reaching for it with deliberate slowness so that the Earther males in the vehicle would have little difficulty following her movements. The projectile had been twice deformed - firstly when it had initially struck the invulnerable inner curves of her breasts at speed, and subsequently when it had been compressed by the natural movements of her superhuman chest as she ran. She extracted it in a languid, supremely erotic manner, dragging the defeated metal out of her cleavage and then around the perfect arc of her right breast, teasing her audience before finally, unhurriedly, holding it up, between her thumb and forefinger, in front of her gorgeous, still smiling, face.



Houlot had been momentarily stunned by the sight of his bullet stuck in its supremely feminine resting place. He'd assumed that she hadn't even noticed it. If so many hundreds and thousands of other slugs hadn't so much as bruised her lovely skin, and her unchanging grin suggested that none of them had caused her any form of pain, it didn't seem much of a leap of imagination to conclude that she wasn't even feeling them. But then, without bothering to glance down, she had fished it out. So she must've been aware of it... she must've felt it... it just didn't make sense. The way she slowly traced the curve of her breast with the bullet briefly made him forget his confusion, his fingers frozen on the trigger of his weapon as she held up the spent shot between her own digits. He found himself emitting a gasp, partly from shock, and partly from lust.

For a few seconds the Private just stared at the bullet and the stunning female face behind it. Some of the men around him seemed to be as stunned as he was, their weapons temporarily silent as they struggled and failed to come to terms with what they were witnessing. Others were still firing at the remarkable girl, their on-going attempts at wounding her equally as ineffective as those of the men doing nothing but gawking. They might as well have been showering her with confetti rather than bullets.

Houlot couldn't work out what he should do. Should he resume firing in the hope that one of his bullets could achieve what ten thousand others could not? Should he let the absurdity of the situation overwhelm him and resort to crazed screaming? Or should he just continue to look at her and allow her astonishing beauty to finish the job of scrambling his mind? Her hand holding the bullet obscured part of her face from his perspective, but he could still see most of her smile - the rich full lips that she was parting and her perfect, dazzling, sexy teeth. And her eyes! So bright, so clear, so... Oh God... Was she looking at him? Directly at him amongst all the men in the truck?

She was! There was no doubt now. Her sparkling, captivating eyes were locked onto his own, astonished eyeballs. He felt the spark, the jolt of excitement and nerves he always felt when a beautiful girl met his gaze, only many times stronger than he had ever experienced before. His heart thumped. He could swear she was smiling even more broadly now, smiling for him in particular. His mouth was dry. The big gun he was still pointing at the incredible girl began to tremble very slightly. Could she really be interested in him? Surely not in that way... she was too beautiful, too sexy, too perfect for him... He felt his knees weaken. There was a flicker of movement in front of her face. A split-second later Private Houlot ceased feeling anything at all.



Tara enjoyed seducing the male who had shot the pellet that wedged itself in her cleavage. She made certain that she had him completely enrapt before, with the most effortless of tiny movements of her slender middle finger, she flicked the misshapen bit of metal towards his bulging eyes. When the thing had been fired towards her, it had boasted an aerodynamic shape and had been propelled by powerful explosives. Now, mutilated, and pushed by a casual gesture from a delicate-looking female finger, it travelled a dozen times faster. When the male had sent it her way it's force had been entirely absorbed and defeated by her chest, causing her nothing but a passing pleasant sensation. Now, as she sent it back, it tore a rough hole right through the male's face, its trajectory unaffected by the Earther flesh and bone in its path.

The semi-crushed little projectile passed unhindered through the fabric roof of the vehicle, continuing to rise as several of the shocked males inside where splattered with blood from their murdered colleague. Panicked cries of "What the hell?" and "Oh god!" reached Tara's pretty ears amongst the continuing racket of weapons futilely firing and shots pinging uselessly from her stunning body. Her grin briefly became a delighted chuckle.

For a moment, she considered selecting another male and repeating the trick of capturing and then lethally returning a piece of his ammunition, but then she recalled how the distance between her and Lyda was growing with every passing moment as she continued to chase the trio of single-file vehicles. She could play that game another time. Right now, she decided, she was going to carry out her plan to bring the Earthers in the three vehicles back to her waiting lover.



Fernandez hadn't seen Houlot's demise behind his back, but he had felt a splash of blood on his neck, and he'd heard the gasps of the other men, not to mention the thud of his colleague's body slumping to the floor. When he saw the beautiful, bulletproof girl laughing, he realised that she was responsible for the kill and felt the fear in the pit of his stomach grow. More in desperation than hope, he continued to fire his weapon at her. Then, suddenly, far too quickly for him or any of the other men firing around him to react, she seemed to become a barely visible streak that moved sideways for an instant and then vanished from view. Startled by this latest, seemingly impossible development, and with no target in sight now, he and the other men in the truck stopped shooting.

"What the fuck just happened?" asked Fernandez, in disbelief.

"She... she just disappeared..." Private Dupont hesitantly observed.

"She overtook us!" declared Private Lacron, his voice betraying more than a hint of panic. "She ran round us and overtook us! I swear! Like we were standing still!"

"No way!" Fernandez dismissed the claim. "We must be doing a hundred..."

"Which side?" asked Dupont.

"Eh?" Fernandez responded, his mind now too confused to follow.

"Which side did she overtake us on, Lacron?" Dupont clarified both his question and the identity of its intended target.

"She went outside us," Lacron answered. "Like a fucking missile. I swear I saw her!"

Dupont stepped to the edge of the back of the truck and, holding on for balance, leaned his head as far around the indicated side of the vehicle as he could. He saw the flank of the lorry, and some of the side of the truck in front. The smaller lead vehicle was hidden from his view. He could see the tarmac racing past below. But he could not see a girl in a bikini. Carefully, he swung himself back inside.

"Are you sure you saw her go that way?" he pressed Lacron.

"I've never been more sure of any-" Lacron's protest was cut short by the sound of an explosion. Before anyone could say anything else, the lorry's brakes were slammed, hard. All of the men in the back lost balance. Several tripped over the bloody corpse of Private Houlot, falling into others as they were all thrown towards the cab-end of the truck. Yells of pain told of bones being broken in the chaos.



It was still thrilling for Tara to pit herself against Earther machinery. She took two steps to the side and then effortlessly increased the pace of her jog, revelling in the sensation of her power as her sexy legs propelled her at several times the speed of the noisy vehicles' engines, passing first the big transporter that she had been chasing, then the near-identical one in front within a dozen strides. Even as she shot past the huge machines, so fast in comparison that they might as well have been stationary, she knew that she was using only a fraction of the speed available to her. Neither Earthers themselves, nor their most powerful machines, could even begin to challenge her physically. All they could offer her and Lyda was the opportunity for fun.

Four more superhuman strides carried Tara beyond the smaller vehicle at the head of the convoy. Whereas the long sections behind the engines of the two larger machines were covered on three sides by nothing more than fabric, this front-most transporter was encased entirely in metal. Even the transparent panels at the front, through which the controller could observe the track on which he was travelling, were protected by a diagonal criss-cross of thick metal wires.

The beautiful brunette from a different dimension had no need for special transparent materials, however. Her lovely bright eyes could peer through metal and view what lay on the other side without any difficulty. She observed how the smaller vehicle had been constructed with thick solid plates around a frame of tubes. She guessed its builders had intended to make it more resistant to the kind of weapons that the Earthers in the rear vehicle had used so ineffectively on her.

That guess, though, was merely a disinterested observation. The realisation that the transporter was armoured did not cause her to adjust her plans. She knew enough of Earth and its materials now to know that even the thickest metal would not be able to withstand her strength. Happily, and with the supreme confidence that comes from being a goddess in a mortal realm, she calmly stepped across the track into the vehicle's path. She had been running at over four times the speed of the convoy, yet she decelerated to a complete stop within a single stride, her perfect balance constant.

As Tara had come to expect, neither the male controlling the machine, nor any of the five inside with him, had sufficient time to react as she intersected with their path. To them, she supposed, she would simply have materialised from nowhere. If that is, there had been long enough for their brains to process the information from their eyes. But so slow were the functions of Earthers, the processing never happened.

Before any of the six could see her, the front of the vehicle, travelling at its top speed, had slammed into her thighs. The leading portion of the machinery, with its thick metallic protection instantly began to fold around her stunning, invulnerable body. Inside the transporter, the men were thrown forwards. The two nearest Tara slammed face first into the transparent panels which shattered but the metal grill covering them held firm long enough to reduce them to gore. More solid material pressed up in vain against her smooth flat belly as the males in the back were crushed up against the remains of those from the front.

Still, the vehicle's momentum fought its hopeless battle against the beautiful girl. The front of it wrapped itself around her middle, as though it were trying to take her in an embrace. The carnage within was complete, but the machine itself continued to be crushed against her flawless skin, pushing in vain against her groin, until the engine itself was compressed to such an extent that it tore into pieces, its fuel escaping and, inevitably, igniting, blasting the crumpled remains of the front of the transporter, along with the rest of the thing, and its gory contents, into a fiery fountain of red-hot chunks of metal.

Large pieces of the explosion slammed into the underside of Tara's large round breasts from point-blank range, dissolving into tiny fragments against her invulnerable feminine perfection. Flames surrounded her, heating her gorgeous face, her long, straight, silken dark brown hair and her magnificent body to extreme temperatures, even as shards of metal clattered into her at enormous speeds as the deformed embrace of her waist and hips ended with the defeated, compacted metal being shredded to fragments by the blast.

Through the lowering flickers of fire and the thickening clouds of black smoke, she could clearly see and hear the long vehicle that had been following the one she'd just destroyed now screeching to a halt, its primitive stopping mechanism struggling to slow the huge behemoth before it, too, would hit her. She could see right through the two panicking men in the front part of the transporter, and watched the sixteen males in the back portion being thrown off their feet by the sudden stop, crashing painfully into one another. Then she peered beyond them to observe the same chaos taking place in the big vehicle behind - the one whose now unbalanced, tangled men had been using their weapons against her moments ago. She couldn't help but laugh at their helplessness.



"Fucking hell!" screamed Corporal Montard as the armoured van he'd been following at one hundred and ten kilometres per hour exploded without warning. Instinctively he hit the brakes as hard as he dared without overturning the truck full of men he was driving. Did he see something hit the front of the van in the instant before it blew up? It all happened so quickly, he couldn't be sure if his eyes and his brain had deceived him, but it seemed as if the armoured vehicle had stopped as if it'd had crashed into a wall across the road a split-second before it became a fireball.

A burning piece of van whistled millimetres away from Montard's side window as he fought to keep control of the truck and slow it down before it hit whatever was left of the destroyed vehicle. He shut his eyes in self-preservation as another bit of shrapnel came spinning towards his wind-shield, heard the crack of impact and felt a sharp sting across his cheek. He could feel the blood from a fresh gash pouring down his face. When he looked again, he saw that the glass in front bore a jagged hole surrounded by a complex network of cracks.

He held his nerve, concentrating on maintaining the lorry's balance as the tyres skidded on the road surface. Although their speed was decreasing steadily, he realised quickly enough that the distance to the remains of the van was insufficient to achieve a complete stop. Experience told him that there was no chance of steering the long vehicle around the wreck without tipping it over.

The bright orange flames and thick black smoke now beginning to rise obscured his vision, so that he couldn't tell what might hit the front of his truck, or where any impact might occur. He could only hope that they would have slowed enough for any collision to be survivable, if not for him or for the Private seated beside him, then at least for the sixteen men in the back. Gripping the wheel tightly, keeping his foot pressed on the brake, he braced himself, and began uttering a silent prayer.

As the fire and fumes filled his view through the busted wind-shield, he thought he could see something, no - wait - someONE moving. A humanoid figure. Female. Yes, he was sure now. It was a young woman. Standing. In a bikini. In the middle of the burning wreckage. A stunningly attractive young woman. Walking calmly through the smoke and flames towards him. "Oh shit," he thought, resignedly. "I'm already dead and an angel is coming to take me to the afterlife." That seemed the only possible explanation for what he was seeing.



What was that? Thierry saw the flash of light dead ahead on the horizon moments before he felt his car being briefly buffeted by some kind of shock-wave. He peered into the distance and saw what looked like flames around a kilometre down the road. Another explosion!

He could feel the adrenaline start to flow through his heart as he pressed ever harder on the accelerator pedal beneath the sole of his shoe. Something major was going on, and he was going to get the exclusive scoop on it. This was going to be his ticket out of regional news and into the big time. He narrowed his eyes at the road ahead, noting the fresh pall of black smoke that was beginning to climb skyward. It wouldn't be long until he got close enough to see. And to film.



Tara knew at once that for all the noise of the big vehicle's deceleration systems, the thing wasn't going to slow down enough to avoid hitting her and the remains of the exploded transporter. She'd seen enough of these primitive transport devices to calculate that contact with the fire all around her or, indeed, forceful contact with her herself, would probably cause the huge machine to blow up like the smaller one had done. That would instantly be the end for all the Earthers inside. But her plan was to bring as many as she could back to where Lyda was waiting for her, so that her friend could observe her having "fun" with them at close quarters.

It was clear that neither the male controlling the vehicle nor the mechanisms that he was operating were capable of stopping in time. She would have to do their work for them. She realised that she needed to bring the thing to a halt before it reached the heat and flames that continued to caress her perfect skin. Although the blaze left her untouched, she knew that it might well destroy the vehicle. So she took a couple of languid, easy steps towards the front of the huge transporter, strolling out of the fiery wreckage, and casually straightened her right arm, holding out her palm towards the on-coming behemoth.

The thing had already slowed significantly, but she did not take the risk of holding her arm out rigidly and allowing it to slam into her petite hand. That might have caused enough damage to the transporter to have triggered another explosion. Instead, she relaxed her slender arm, withdrawing her palm slightly as the vehicle impacted to absorb most of the force of the collision. With immaculate precision and fluid, feminine grace, Tara's long, shapely arm overpowered the massive machine's momentum, bringing it to a complete halt in the space of a single stride.

The only damage sustained by the vehicle was a series of small dents left by her pretty fingers, but despite the perfect control she had exhibited, the deceleration was sharp enough to cause the two men in the front portion to be launched forwards out of their seats, their skulls simultaneously smashing through the brittle window that had been in front of them, showering her in tiny sharp fragments.

The shards had no effect on Tara but the two males received countless cuts as they passed through the remains of the transparent panel. The sharp stop had thrown the pair clear of the vehicle on a trajectory that would have ended with impact with the vehicle track about five paces behind her, had she not chosen to intervene by raising her arms and catching them both, one with each hand, by their armpits. The duo screamed in unison as her fingers closed on them, her effortless grips enough to crush the muscles of their upper arms.



Montard had seen the angel walk out of the fire, not even a single, gorgeous hair on her heavenly head singed by the inferno. He'd seen her appear to reach for the truck as it slid towards her. Then he'd felt a sudden jolt that pitched him Private Clement through the windscreen. He had braced himself for the inevitable impact with the road, only for his brief flight to be unexpectedly cut short as a horrendous pain at the top of his right arm made him cry out.

It took him a moment to recover his abilities to look and think. The angel was close now, really close. Her stunning face was only about thirty centimetres from his own. Clement was close by too. She was holding them both by the arm! The pain... the terrible crushing pain was being caused by her. He glanced momentarily across as his colleague, and saw from his contorted expression that she was hurting him as well. What kind of a welcome to the after-life was this?

Montard tried to free his arm and realised he couldn't. The angel looked so slender, her hand so feminine, it didn't seem possible that she could maintain such an inescapable grip. And the agony! Surely, there should be no more pain if he was with the angels now. Maybe... maybe he thought, I'm not actually dead. Maybe I'm still alive. But how do I explain the angel... Unless... unless she isn't an angel. But she certainly looks like an angel. And I saw her walking unharmed through fire... and this grip, this crushing, painful grip she has on me...

"Let me go! You're hurting me!" Clement's desperate cry beside him focussed Montard's thoughts. With his free, undamaged arm, he reached for the pistol holstered on his hip. Meanwhile his colleague's frantic efforts to secure freedom continued. Having failed with a plea, Clement balled his untrapped hand into a fist and drove it at the centre of the sublime face of the angel - or whatever she was. Montard heard the sound of his companion's bones disintegrating on impact, instants before the inevitable scream that accompanied this latest injury. For her part, angel or not, their tormentor did not even blink as the futile blow landed.

Total panic overwhelmed both men. Clement continued to yell as he stared at the remains of his fist. Montard freed his pistol, released the safety and, with the end of the barrel barely five centimetres from the glorious smooth flat plane of the mysterious young woman's exposed belly, fired off a shot. Instantly, his colleague fell silent. Montard saw gushing blood. It took him a couple of seconds to realise the source of it was a new huge, gaping wound in Clement's chest. He knew at once that the other Private was dead.

But.. the gun had been pointing the other way when he shot. At the angel's stomach. Yet when he looked there wasn't even a hint of redness on her sexy belly. How had his pistol malfunctioned so badly? He quickly examined the weapon. It looked completely intact with no sign of a misfire. What the hell was happening? He turned his gaze from his weapon and found himself face to face with his stunning captor.



When the male in her left hand had extracted his pathetic Earther weapon and activated it less than a hand-span away from her middle, Tara easily predicted the outcome. She had already resolved to silence the screeching creature in her other hand, so she opted not to intervene. The little metal pellet duly performed exactly as she had anticipated, first pressing itself against the warm, silky perfection of her belly, its shape changing as it grew shorter and wider, the result of utter defeat in the battle first to penetrate then to mark her beauty.

Once the shot could flatten no further against her sexy stomach, its remaining force sent it recoiling away from its conqueror, directly towards the chest of the shattered-handed screamer. In contrast with Tara's exposed midriff, neither the male's uniform, nor his skin nor what lay beneath could provide any meaningful challenge to the now disc-shaped projectile. It carved a channel deep into his body, silencing him forever.

Tara waited whilst the still living member of the duo looked from his dead companion to the weapon in his hand and finally back to her. His feeble Earther mind clearly hadn't been able to process the events of the past few moments. She burst into laughter at the mixture of confusion, fear and awe on his face.



She was laughing! Clement was dead and the incredible young woman in the bikini was laughing at him! This was not how Montard believed angels were supposed to behave. But... she was so beautiful. Her mouth was open now as she chuckled, her perfect sexy teeth fully visible. She certainly looked other-worldly. And yet her behaviour and the agonisingly crushing grip she was maintaining on his upper arm were much more consistent with the actions of a demon than an angel.

He stared at her stunning face, his terror and confusion and the overwhelming power of her beauty all leaving him unable to look away. There was something in her gorgeous eyes, a glint of pure joy that hinted at a mocking quality to her laugh, as if she was merely toying with him for her own amusement. As if she had something planned for him. Something unspeakable.

Was she reading his thoughts? Or was it just the growing fear that must've shown on his face as they raced through his mind? What prompted her to chose that particular moment, as her maliciously glinting eyes looked deep into his own, to wink seductively? Montard would never learn the answer. Nor would he struggle with the question for long.



Tara could not help winking at her latest conquest. It symbolised the moment her superiority would become complete. The precise moment, chosen by her, that the male's awe- and terror-filled features would be permanently preserved. The moment she had decided his fate.

She barely needed to adjust her laugh. She merely allowed an effortless, gentle exhalation of her coldest breath to waft over him, instantly cooling everything it touched, turning the liquids of his body into ices in less time than it took his heart to complete a single beat. The wonderful expression on his face was frozen, immediately, along with every cell of his body.

Tara took a moment to admire her work as it continued to hang from her grip. She was aware that there were two huge vehicles full of men in front of her and was reminded of her plan to bring them all back to where Lyda was waiting. The distant sound of a vehicle engine far down the track behind her gave her an idea what to do with the two dead ones she was currently holding.

Using only her ears to judge the location of the single, far-off, approaching vehicle, she tossed the two corpses, one still warm and bloody, the other completely frozen, over her smooth round shoulders. Her slender, long arms imparted incalculable force as she released the bodies, her graceful, casual-looking double fling more than powerful enough to launch the pair on a five-hundred-paces-long interception course.



For a split-second, Thierry tore his eyes from the road ahead to glance to the seat beside him and guide his right hand into the passenger glove compartment where he had stashed his camera. He wanted to be ready to start capturing whatever it was that he was headed into, as soon as he got there.

When he turned his gaze back towards the ever-nearing black smoke, it was already too late. He barely had enough time to figure out what the twin objects were. Two soldiers, flying like rockets, right at his car. Instinctively, he tried to protect his face with his forearms before the bizarre missiles simultaneously impacted with his wind-shield.

The glass cracked and caved but not before one of the soldiers had dissolved into a shower of gore and the other had smashed like brittle pottery into a thousand chunks. Thierry's arms successfully saved his face from serious injury. They also shielded him from the horrific sight of the double collision.

He let his hands retake their positions on the steering wheel, his eyes now open, the sight of blood splashed all over the front of the car making him momentarily nauseous. He slowed to a short but controlled halt, still in shock. Ahead, he could see nothing but red gore and cracked glass. He needed to get out of the car.

Grabbing the camera, he realised it had been splashed with the same red sticky wetness that covered much of the remains of the windscreen. Desperate now for fresh air, he pulled at the small lever beside him and pushed, expecting the nearside door to fly open. But nothing happened. He tried again, and then, nearly reaching full panic, for a third time. Still, he was unsuccessful.

If he had been able to achieve clarity of mind at that moment, he would have deduced that the horrific impact of the two bodies had distorted the frame of his car, resulting in the door becoming jammed. But the frantic nature of his thoughts obscured the bits of his brain that handled logic. All he knew was that he had to get out and he couldn't. He began to push increasingly desperately with his shoulder against the door.



Tara looked at the big, now driverless, machine in front of her, with its jumbled cargo of still-entangled males in the back, and then beyond, through the helpless men, to the identical transporter with similar contents behind it. Without realising the fact, she was becoming an expert on Earther vehicles. In only a few days, she had already discovered and mastered ways to overpower engines, to immobilise all kinds of transporters, lift them, tear them in half, make them explode and to launch them into the air.

As she walked up to the front of the behemoth, she moved with even more assuredness than normal, utterly certain that her intended actions would have the exact results she intended. She knew how to move the two massive machines without destroying either in a fireball. She was certain she could bring both vehicles to Lyda without excessively damaging either the containers or their weak, fragile contents.

She moved in an efficient but unhurried manner. True, she needed to carry out her plan before any of the men inside the machines had enough time to pick themselves up and climb out. But Earthers were so slow and clumsy that she was aware she did not need to rush. Her urgency stemmed from her keenness to be beside her lover.

With her hands now free having disposed of the two males from the front portion of the nearest vehicle, she stepped up to the thing's engine housing and placed her open palms against it. There was no change to her stride as her long slender arms instantly overpowered the huge machine's inertia.

She pushed the vehicle backwards, at a brisk walking pace, until she felt the jolt as it hit the front of the second transporter. The task was easy, her sleek arms generating the required power without any hint of exertion, the demand on her body only a miniscule fraction of its phenomenal capability.

Her acquired knowledge of the planet's primitive technology told her that if she had pushed the first machine any faster or harder, the ensuing collision risked provoking an explosion that might've destroyed both sets of men. And Tara did not want them destroyed. Not until she was back with Lyda.

Once the impact had occurred, she was free to use a little more force in her arms and to move her fabulous legs with more speed. With the lead vehicle pressed up against the rear one, the two machines behaved as a single object. Twice the weight to move, twice the inertia to defeat. She failed utterly to notice the added challenge as she started to accelerate from walking speed to an easy jog.



Private Dessari was slumped on the steering wheel. Beside him, Kircher was similarly bowed, his forehead resting on the passenger side dashboard. Unlike his companion, Kircher was conscious. He moaned with the pain in his head and his neck, trying to recall the events leading up to his current predicament.

He remembered the eerie, sudden silencing of the guns being fired by the men in the back of the truck. He had been about to turn around and shout at the guys to ask what was going on when something - presumably the armoured van leading the convoy - had exploded on the other side of the lorry in front.

Montard, the driver of the truck in front, must have slammed on his brakes dangerously hard because Dessari had no warning before he too had to smash his foot down to avoid slamming into the men in the back of Montard's vehicle. That was when both Dessari and Kircher had been flung forward. It was also the last thing that Kircher could recall. It explained the pounding in his head and the throbbing in his neck.

He lifted his head, wincing as his neck protested strongly. Slowly, he turned towards Dessari. His colleague, he gathered, had struck the top rim of the big steering wheel with his forehead. Kircher could see a small trickle of blood where Dessari and the wheel had come together. He could also see that Dessari was still breathing. Knocked out cold, but breathing.

In the back of Dessari's truck, Fernandez was still trying to regain his feet having been thrown off balance along with all the others by the same sharp stop that had wounded Kircher and Dessari. Dupont was still on the floor of the truck, unable to stand, gritting his teeth as he clutched his leg. Someone had fallen hard into it, and he didn't need a doctor to know that he'd broken a bone.

Nearby, Lacron was trying to push the ever-bloodier corpse of his former colleague Houlot off his chest. In the chaos, he'd ended up at the bottom of a pile of men, pinned by the dead man and someone else on top of the heap. Whoever it was whose weight had been pressing Houlot against Lacron had taken a while to move off. Now, at least, he could start getting the corpse off him.

But before Lacron could complete the unpleasant task, the lorry was jolted from the front, causing quite a few of the recovering men to lose their footing once again. Someone slipped in Houlot's blood and tripped over Lacron and a flailing arm caught Fernandez across the waist, winding him, sending him staggering back until he in turn collided with another man.

Lacron lifted his head and shoulders, digging his elbows into the floor to try and get enough purchase to pull himself out from under the remains of Houlot. He caught a glimpse of the road through the back of the truck. They were moving. In reverse. And accelerating. Really quickly. Too quickly. But... the engine was off! And they were going fast... Way, way faster than he believed any lorry could ever move.

Fernandez, Lacron, Dupont and all the others who were still conscious could feel the gravitational forces increase as the truck they were in, inexplicably, incomprehensibly, moved with increasing speed back down the road they had driven on minutes before. The men were being pushed, hard, towards the front of the lorry by the sheer velocity making movement almost impossible and escape entirely impossible.

Not that anyone could survive jumping from a truck travelling at.. what? Lacron tried to estimate their speed from the blur of landscape. Two hundred? Three? More? There was a series of metallic pings on the floor under him as they rode over some of the ammunition that they had poured futilely from their weapons onto the mind-bending girl in the bikini. This all had to be a dream. A horrid, terrifying nightmare.



Moving the two huge vehicles, backwards, at nearly four times the maximum speeds their engines could achieve, was no challenge at all for Tara. She ran comfortably as she pushed the machines, knowing that she could call on the endless internal reserves of pure power that filled her beautiful body and increase her pace at any time.

But she took care to judge her pace precisely. After all, getting the things into motion without destroying their frail contents was the easiest part. Slowing them down again, bringing them to a halt exactly where Lyda was impatiently standing, all the while keeping their cargo intact, required a fraction more skill.

She'd forced the two machines just over half of the way from their furthest point back to Lyda. Her other-worldly judgement told her this was the moment to hand over control of the two massive machines to the forces of momentum, gravity and friction. Taking her palms from the front of the transporter she had been pushing, she immaculately side-stepped it and effortlessly accelerated her run.

Tara shot past the two machines as they were just beginning to slow from their peak velocity. In no time at all she was sprinting away from them, racing down the vehicle track followed by the ever more distant vehicles. Her eyes were locked on those of Lyda, the two girls grinning adoringly at each other as their reunion grew closer with every stride of Tara's glorious, superhuman legs.



Thierry had finally conceded defeat to the car doors. Neither the driver- nor the passenger-side would open no matter how much he pushed or battered his fists against them. He clambered awkwardly into the back of his car, crawling over various newspapers and documents that he had strewn on the back seats. The right-hand rear door didn't open at the first try but after a few more attempts and a shove that bruised his shoulder, it finally yielded.

He was so anxious to take fresh air and get away from the gore coating the front of the vehicle that he did not notice the unusual debris scattered on the road as he clumsily climbed out. After two uneasy steps, he felt something under his foot and glanced down just in time to recognise the shape of part of a human hand.

He was not in time to stop himself transferring a significant portion of his weight onto that foot. Confusingly, the hand shattered like crystal glass under his shoe. He knew enough about anatomy to be surprised by this. Staring in shock at the resulting fragments, he noticed another piece of body, possibly a section of an upper arm, a few centimetres from his toes.

Professional curiosity triumphed over his natural disgust and he bent low to investigate the body part. After the strange crumbling of the hand he'd stepped on, he reached for the piece of arm, hoping to test its texture and gain some understanding of what the hell might have happened to its ex-owner.

Before he could touch the thing, he snatched back his outstretched fingers with a sharp intake of breath. "Fuck, that's cold!" he thought. Tentatively, he moved his palm towards the bit of corpse. The coldness made his palm burn from several centimetres away. He gave up the idea of touching the macabre object.

A flash of memory hit the front of his mind from somewhere deep within. Back in school. In Chemistry. The teacher had wheeled in a container of liquid nitrogen and dipped a piece of flexible rubber tubing into the smoky pot. Thierry remembered the whole class gasping as the teacher then smashed the tube with a hammer. This poor guy's body must've been dipped in something like that.

He had to find out what was going on. The police seemed to have some idea, and the Interior Minister had to be in possession of enough information to order a road closure. He was going to get to the truth on behalf of his viewers. Not to mention his career. With the video camera clutched in his hand, he started to walk, as quick as he could, down the highway towards the thinning pall of black smoke dead ahead.



Lyda's irresistible smile broadened as Tara came trotting up to her. She could see the two big Earther vehicles trundling down the track behind her lover, but her eyes were fixed on the vision of beauty far in front of them. Tara. Her fellow renegade, the awakener of her volcanic passion, her only equal in this dimension.

They had only been apart a short while, but Lyda thrilled at the thought of once again embracing the lithe body that was moving so majestically towards her. "Oh, Tara!" she sighed, opening her arms as the other girl finally came to a halt, her final step carrying her into the waiting hug.

"Lyda!" grinned Tara as the two girls wrapped their long arms around each other. Tara bent her knees very slightly to compensate for her slight extra height. Their two, magnificent full, round busts came together with enough force to crush diamonds out of existence, the incalculable pressure registering only as lustful warmth to them both. They kissed, hard, deep and long, their tongues clashing with the same astonishing power as their chests.

All through their passionate initial coming together, the two big Earther vehicles continued to approach, much less quickly now than when Tara had been pushing them, but still carrying enough of the force received from the taller girl's sexy body to keep them moving as fast as their noisy engines had ever managed.

"I loved it when they were all using their weapons on you," panted Lyda, when they eventually broke off their kiss long enough for either to talk. Her lips were still just a finger-width from Tara's as she spoke. Beneath their upper garments, each of the girls' excited nipples pressed insistently into its counterpart.

"I thought you would like that," breathed Tara, her eyes glinting mischievously. Lyda caught the sparkle, and almost shuddered with pure lust.

"And when you were pushing them," Lyda continued her commentary, "I was looking through all those helpless men, watching you, seeing your power... Oh Tara!" The shorter girl had ran out of ways to express her feelings.

"I know you were," responded Tara. "I was looking through them at you, too."

The confirmation of what Lyda already suspected pleased the darker-haired beauty. "I love watching you being an all-powerful goddess." Lyda confessed, unnecessarily. She knew that Tara already understood her feelings. She also knew that Tara enjoyed watching her demonstrating her own power just as much.

But, for now, it was Tara's turn to show off and Lyda's to observe. The two big vehicles still on the approach and the Earther males they were bringing were the physical embodiment of that agreement.

"Would you like to see some more of my power, Lyda?" teased the taller girl as the slightly slowing transporters closed to within a hundred paces, now moving at about four-fifths of the speed that the engines had achieved earlier.

"Very much," Lyda exhaled, lustfully.

"Would you like to see my power over this bunch of Earthers coming towards us right now?"

"Yes, Tara. I'd love to see that."

"What would you like to do with them?" Tara enquired.

"I want you to destroy them, Tara."

"Do you promise you'll be watching me the whole time, Lyda?"

"Oh, I promise. I promise."

"Well, if you promise..." Tara let the sentence remain incomplete as she turned away from her lover and strolled over to meet the onrushing transporters.



They were still moving too fast. Bailing, assuming he could stand up and walk to the edge of the lorry, would mean certain death. But, even with that knowledge, the sight, through the back of the truck, of the girl standing still in the middle of the road as the truck hurtled towards her, convinced Lacron that jumping out was the best option. He made one final attempt to get to his feet.

An acute pain shot the length of his left leg as he tried to put weight on it. Under any other circumstances, he would have given up. But somehow, from somewhere, he found the last scraps of inner strength to take an unsteady step. They were closing on her fast, perhaps eighty kilometres an hour, and he had to hurry. Another, limping stride. More agony. He had to go faster. But the pain!

Lacron screamed in an unsuccessful attempt to release the hurt from his body. He could see that he was running out of time. The girl, the terrifying, slim young woman who had come to be the object of all his fear, loomed nearer and nearer. He made a final, desperate effort to fling himself out of the back of the truck and fell short, onto the hard metal floor with a thud that brought a fresh wave of unbearable pain.

A second later, the rear fender smashed into her pretty knees and Lacron, and all the men in the truck with him were helplessly pitched, like dice from a backgammon shaker, into the air towards the open back of the vehicle. Almost all of them were thrown to one side or the other of the slender girl, sailing through the air beyond her to come crashing down, rolling uncontrollably over the road surface. Almost all of them.

Lacron himself was tossed by the collision face-first towards their unlikely tormentor. As he flew, he caught a glimpse of her smile but quickly his field of vision narrowed. He was heading straight for her amazing chest. And there was nothing that he could do about it. There wasn't even enough time for him to scream.

An instant later, he slammed, face-on, into the erotic glory of her other-worldly breasts. The impact crushed his nose and caved in his features, but he was spared the horror of feeling his skull give way. By that point, his neck had broken and he was dead. His lifeless, bloodied body rebounded from her perfect bust to finish crumpled inside the suddenly emptied lorry.



Merely by letting the big vehicle hit her, she'd managed to dislodge all the males from the transporter. Tara could hear them, rolling to a halt, some groaning on the ground behind her. The one that had hit her front no longer mattered. She'd enjoyed with the way he had met his end, the angular features of his supposedly tough, masculine face crumbling against the rounded curves of her feminine body. But now he was done.

There had been two more males in the front portion of the transporter. But the impact of the convoy against her knees had sent the twenty males in the furthermost vehicle flying backwards, just as it had done with those in the other machine. Whereas the men in the nearer transporter had been thrown clear, those in the farther vehicle had been tossed at the front of the one behind.

Now there was a jumble of men, some inside the front bit of the near machine, shattered transparent material sprinkled over and between them. The majority of those who'd been inside the father transporter had ended up piled in a heap on top of the engine housing at the front of the other vehicle. Tara's remarkable senses detected multiple signs of life amongst the chaos.

She decided to complete the task of separating men from vehicles. Bending low, she could not resist sticking out her fabulous rear and shaking it from side to side for Lyda's benefit and she took a hold of the back of the nearest transporter. Then she straightened up again, lifting the end of the huge machine as if it were weightless.

Taking a step back, Tara pulled the massive transporter away from its companion as easily as if it had been nothing more than a fallen leaf from a tree. Having opened a gap between the two vehicles, she raised her lovely long arms over her head, tilting the vast contraption at an ever steeper angle.

The corpse in the back rolled away from her. The pile of men slid from the front of the machine to tumble the short distance to the ground. Her remarkable eyes could see that there were still six males inside the front portion. She began to move her hands back and forwards, shaking the entire vehicle until four of those had been dislodged and tossed out on top of their comrades.

Sufficiently satisfied with her work, she decided not to bother with the remaining pair. Instead, she opted to discard the vehicle. She hadn't raised the front wheels from the track they were resting on, yet when she flung her arms to the side, the sheer power they imparted was sufficient to raise the whole massive transporter, rotating as it left the ground, spinning off to the side.

The giant contraption travelled nearly twenty paces before any part of it made contact with terra firma. Then it bounced twice, twisting with each impact before it broke it half and, a moment later, erupted in flames. Pieces of it rained down all around, some hitting the track. A few chunks of burnt twisted machinery came down onto one of the two clumps of males strewn on the ground, instantly killing those unfortunate enough to be hit.

Another piece of exploded vehicle descended directly onto Tara's head. It rebounded, vertically, from her invulnerable skull, once, twice and then a third time before sliding over her silken crown to crash down by her feet. What had proved fatal for several of the men proved to be incapable of singeing a single one of her lovely long brown hairs.

She cast her gaze over the two distinct groups of prostrate men, selecting one still breathing male at random and, without looking down, flicked her pretty toes at the newly-landed piece of debris. The casual movement sent the twisted lump of metal rocketing away from her, never rising more than a hand-span from the ground.

Her aim, as always on Earth, was perfect. Tara's improvised projectile obliterated the body of the target she had chosen and continued to travel far beyond what was left of him before it eventually came to rest over fifty paces away. By then, she had already strolled towards the nearest group of scattered men.



Through the viewfinder of the camera, at maximum zoom, he could see what it was now. An army van of some kind, horribly mangled at the front and completely burnt out. It was still smouldering. But there was no sign of any life anywhere around the wreck, no sign of any liquid nitrogen tanks, no sign of the full story Thierry was so desperately seeking.

He walked on, towards the destroyed van, hoping that closer inspection might reveal a scrap or two of information. A distant flash of yellow and orange caught his eye and confirmation of a new explosion came in the form of first a rumble of sound and then a growing thickening column of fresh black smoke.

He felt his pulse quicken, and his feet did likewise, breaking into a jog. Whatever had blown up the van had just now blown up something else further on down the highway. This was big. He could sense it. And whatever it was, it was still going on.



Private Fernandez had been only half conscious when the truck had finally, and way too suddenly, come to a halt. The jolt of the abrupt stop, and the sensation of air rushing over his body as he was flung out the back along with all the others, had shocked him into a more alert state just in time for him to experience the pain of landing onto the tarmac, his already bruised belly taking the brunt of the impact.

He'd rolled, over and over, knocking against other soldiers, along the hard road surface, feeling new agonies with every passing instant. Still, somehow, his brain had remained aware. When he finally came to rest, he lay, battered, unable to get up, helpless to do anything but watch as the girl they'd all been shooting at to no effect calmly lifted and then, even more unbelievably, tossed aside the truck in which he'd been riding.

"That thing must've weighed about ten tonnes!" Fernandez thought, "But she's just chucked it away like she was discarding a T-shirt!" Instinct told him he needed to move, to get as far away from her as he possibly could. But when he tried to gather his legs, they failed to respond. Only pain returned from his lower body, not the movement he sought.

When the thrown lorry had exploded, he did his best to cover his face with his hands as debris started to fall all around. Even bending his elbows was agonising. He heard, rather than saw, something landing nearby with a sickening crunch that could only have been flesh and bone. Peering through a crack in his fingers, he saw the top half of Dupont, soaked in blood. He had to look away when he realised how little was left of his former comrade's middle.

Turning his neck brought a new dimension to the hurt that was filling his entire existence. But he could not bear to see what had happened to his colleague. He fought back tears as he moved his head to the other side, blinking his eyes open once more. He saw heels. Naked, pretty, female heels and above them delicate-looking ankles. "Oh fuck!" he thought, "She's standing right next to me!"

If he had looked up he would have caught sight of the girl's sexy pert seat. Instead he stared at the heels as they were joined by a pair of hands. She was bending over. Reaching for something on the ground. It was a leg. A man's leg in torn, blood-stained army trousers. Her other hand was also seeking out something, just beyond the limit of his vision.

The hands rose, affording him a glimpse of a second leg clutched in the right grip, along with the original wounded limb held fast by the left hand. Her closed fingers left his sight. Two seconds later, a pair of heads appeared beside her ankles, dropping from above like emergency oxygen masks in an airplane. He realised immediately that she had lifted two different men by their lower legs, letting them both hang upside down from her twin grips.

One of the dangling men was screaming. Fernandez could feel the force of the yell on his face. He recognised who it was, the knowledge serving only to make the living nightmare he was experiencing even more horrific. The other man's mouth was open as if he too were shouting, but only a strange gurgle came out of it, followed by a thick trickle of blood that dripped onto the road.

The still-unfolding horror coupled with a strange function of his survival instinct prevented Fernandez from closing his eyes. As he continued to watch, he saw the two heads begin to swing like pendulums relative to the girl's slender ankles. Each swing was larger than the previous one. On the third swing, the heads left his sight and did not return. He heard the screams that had been so close a moment ago fading away into the distance.

Now he could see just the two heels again. One of them lifted slightly. He got a brief glimpse of the sole it was attached to before that, too, left his field of vision. Then there was a hint of smooth, creamy flesh in the periphery of his sight, quickly followed by a new, terrible agony as something pressed down on his belly. The pressure increased rapidly. He wanted to scream. Fernandez tasted blood. It filled his mouth. He couldn't breathe. The view of the girl's single heel faded to red and then to black.



Tara had walked over to the nearest cluster of stricken men, reached down and taken hold of a different male's lower leg with each of her hands before raising her twin catches and letting them dangle from her petite fists, the two heads almost brushing against the vehicle track beneath her feet. She swung the pair a few times, not because she needed to generate sufficient power to toss them away but because she hoped Lyda would enjoy the show.

She released both legs, and the helpless men attached to them, with a easy flick of both her tiny wrists that caused the unfortunate duo to spin rapidly as they were launched skyward. The two sets of limbs flailed spectacularly as both bodies twirled end over end away from her. Tara's sensitive hearing detected Lyda's tiny, excited gasp about twenty paces behind her, confirming that her display had achieved the desired effect.

She did not even have to bend down to finish off her next victim. He was lying right next to where she stood, so she simply raised her dainty bare foot and lowered it onto his middle, pressing down slowly, enjoying the sounds of frail Earther breaking beneath her sole. Then she removed her foot, replanting it on - relatively - solid ground.

Tara looked around her. A couple of the men, somehow, were starting to get up. The nearest of these was three steps away to her left. Tara, however, took six strides, walking in a unrushed three-quarter circle so that she was facing Lyda directly as she started the seventh, raising her left foot theatrically over the shoulders of a man who had pulled himself up onto all fours.

With his palms still planted on the vehicle track, the male turned his face upwards towards her. His features were drained of blood, a combination of terror and supplication, wordlessly pleading with her to spare him as she held her flawless sole motionless only the width of a finger above the top of his back.

For her lover's benefit, Tara placed her hands dominantly on her hips, thrusting out her wonderful big chest, her beautiful face tilted slightly skyward, her nose arrogantly in the air and her lips parted in a sexy sneer of superiority as she posed.

"Oh yes, my sexy Goddess!" exclaimed Lyda, barely able to conceal her passion as she voiced her enthusiasm. Tara did not move. Her slightly raised upper lip remained in place, as did her hovering foot. She waited, silently, letting the instants pass, teasing her black-haired friend and tormenting the man under her toes with her refusal to acknowledge either of them until both were desperate enough to give voice to their contrasting wishes.

"Do it, Tara!"

"Please, no! I beg you!"

Tara's head remained still, her gaze directed at the clouds. Tara's top lip remained still, her sneer fixed. Tara's foot did not remain still. It came down, slowly, onto the Earthers back. She pushed him relentlessly until his arms splayed out and his knees gave way and she was pinning him flat against the ground with just the tips of her gorgeous toes. Then she pushed some more until she heard his ribs begin to crack. His mangled hoarse scream was cut short by the snapping of his spine.

She stepped haughtily off the dead man, hands still resting on her shapely hips and, fixing Lyda with a stare, mimed a kiss at her. Lyda responded in kind.

Tara kept her palms on their station just below the level of her navel as she strolled through the cluster of men from the destroyed vehicle. One by one, she dispatched them with her feet. Some, she kicked in the belly as they crawled, launching them high into the air. Others, she hit with her toes in the rear as they tried to stand, sending them flying twenty, thirty, even forty paces away before they crashed down. Those who had not managed to get to their knees, she trod on, crushing them where they were.

The power of her exquisite legs made short work of the males. Not once did she break her stride as she kicked them, and not once did her hands leave her hips until she had destroyed every member of the group. Only then did she let her arms hang loose by her sides.

She walked away from the dead men, moving leisurely, swinging her hips so that Lyda would see her rear in irresistible motion as she headed towards the second batch of Earthers.



The burnt-out van had given Thierry no real clues to the big picture. Inside, he'd found a couple of charred skeletons but nothing else. He'd quickly abandoned the vehicular remains and continued his journey along the highway, aiming for the site of the most recent explosion.

After a few minutes' semi-brisk-walk and semi-jog, he began to notice the road becoming littered with bullet-casings. "A lot of guns were fired around here," he thought. Then, as he looked ahead and realised that the carpet of spent shells extended along the road into the distance as far as he could see, he updated his initial conclusion: "A hell of a lot of guns were fired from at least one moving vehicle for a pretty long time."

Thierry tried to envisage a scenario that might have left debris like he was witnessing. Two cars, racing, with the passengers firing automatic weapons at each other. There were too many bullets. It looked more like an army platoon had been spraying ammunition as it chased a target. But what kind of a target needed to be shot at that many times?

He felt his excitement becoming ever more tempered with nervousness. He glanced rapidly from one side to the other as he continued to follow the highway, ignoring the discomfort of the discarded metal underfoot.



Tara was about five paces away from the nearest of the remaining males. She'd spotted a weapon which one of the men must've dropped, probably when she'd caused them all to be thrown out of their vehicle onto the front of the one behind. Or maybe when she had moved and tipped the backmost vehicle to dislodge the heap of Earthers that had ended up piled on top of it...

The weapon was one of the two-handed type with the longer metal tube at the end. She wasn't particularly interested in distinguishing between the different classes of firearm used by the men. They all had the same effect on her. Or rather, they all failed to have any effect on her. But she was drawn to the long cylindrical portion.

She snatched up the weapon in her left hand and, with her right, pinched the tube between her girlish thumb and forefinger. The metal groaned as it instantly yielded to her strength, bending to her whim. Tara did not register any resistance as her two digits met, compressing the material trapped between them to liquid, gas and then, apparently, nothingness as the weapon was cut in two.

The half with the activating lever fell by her feet, but she held on to the tube. Lifting one end of it towards her mouth, she parted her lips and slowly, erotically, pushed it onto her tongue. Then she closed her beautiful jaws over the metal, her perfect teeth effortlessly slicing off a short length inside her mouth.

Her lips sealed, she began to chew, using her tongue, molars and incisors to break the single piece of hollow metal into countless tiny fragments. Turning her head, she selected two men who were crawling, side by side, away from the cluster, perhaps aiming for some kind of shelter behind the surviving, empty transporter.

Tara opened her mouth, and blew its contents towards the pair. The little fragments of metal became deadly projectiles when driven by the power of her lungs, tearing through the men and embedding themselves deep in the surface of the vehicle track.

She took another bite from the rod in her hand and picked another Earther. His legs were already so badly damaged that he was trying to slide away by dragging himself along the vehicle track using his elbows. This time she elected not to chew, instead spitting out the length she had cut with her teeth whole, watching as it drilled through the back of his head and emerged in a shower of gore from the other side.

She raised the tube in her hand to her lips once more. This time, she took a smaller chomp and manoeuvred the piece between her teeth. Tara walked over to a man lying helplessly on his back. She used her tongue to push the lump of metal out of her mouth, firing it through his heart with a force that the builders of the original weapon could only have dreamed of.

Spotting three Earthers in a jumbled heap about ten steps away, she flicked her wrist, releasing the remainder of the metal cylinder from her hand. The power and accuracy of her casual throw were evidenced by the path the piece of tubing carved through all three bodies, obliterating the face of one, piercing the neck of the next, and ripping through the chest of the last.

Tara walked past the trio, her lovely bare feet leaving red prints on the vehicle track as she stepped through the ever-growing puddle of Earther blood.



"Colonel Gerbert, how is it possible in this day and age, that you can lose contact with an entire platoon?"

"Madame Minister, I have explained the facts as I understand them. Having spoken with Colonel Ferraud, and having seen the preliminary reports of possible explosions, I can only assume they have been engaged by the same unknown hostile elements as Ferraud's men and, although it is too early to say, it seems highly probable that both platoons have been neutralised by those elements."

"I gave you strict instructions to tell your men NOT to engage with those, er, elements, Colonel."

"And I relayed those instructions as orders, Madame. From the last communications I received, it was the elements that engaged my men, and not the other way around."

"So these, um, elements are acting in a hostile manner without provocation?"

"That does appear to be the situation."

"And you believe that your men have been killed by the elements, just as Colonel Ferraud believes his men have been too?"

"At this stage, Madame Minister, it is difficult for me to imagine any other outcome."

"And the, er, elements themselves... You have no description of them, other than what I have received from Colonel Ferraud? That there appears to be two, er, apparently unarmed young women working with them? Any reports of weapons or vehicles or snipers or... or... anything else?"

"Madame, following my conversation with Colonel Ferraud, and having analysed all relevant communications from his men and mine, I can only conclude that the two young women are the entirety of the elements."

"You realise that that is not possible, Colonel."

"I can only state the facts I have. From what I can gather, no-one else is involved."

"But, surely, Colonel, you do not believe these reports of bulletproof girls in bikinis picking up jeeps."

"I believe my men reported what they saw, Madame. As does Colonel Ferraud."

"Very well, Colonel. Please remain in situ for now. We should have aerial reconnaissance shortly. I will ensure you are kept informed as necessary."

"Thank you, Madame Minister. Goodbye."



Thierry felt as if he'd been walking on used ammunition for ages. From time to time, he'd spot an actual bullet, rather than the casings that were strewn everywhere along the road. Some of them were barely recognisable, flattened almost into coin-shapes. A couple had been bent nearly in half.

He tried to piece it together. There had to have been a group of soldiers in a van or a lorry, or maybe a bus-load of gangsters... definitely a large group of people shooting multiple weapons simultaneously as they travelled together down the highway. And whatever they were shooting at, well, when they hit it, their bullets bent or squashed up.

What would you chase in a bus that did that to bullets? Maybe an armoured van. No, these slugs looked liked they'd been fired into a block of solid steel. Maybe even something harder than that... Whatever it was, the guys with the weapons had been desperate to stop it or kill it. It was all getting a bit weird. In a scary way. Especially when he factored in the explosions, the flying corpses and the frozen remains...



Very few of the remaining Earthers were conscious and none of them were moving any more. Tara set to work quickly. Far too quickly for a native of the planet to follow her movements as she began picking up bodies by their arms or legs, not discriminating between those that were dead, unconscious or merely too wounded to move. As she reached each one, she tossed it with one hand towards a point midway between the two clusters. Rapidly, she tidied the vehicle track, clearing the two patches of scattered Earthers and creating a single, large pile.

The only other being capable of following her actions watched her carefully. Lyda soon understood what her companion was doing and walked over towards the new, huge, heap of men. "That was great, Tara!" she commented, her appreciation of her lover's display of power entirely genuine. "But what's this big pile for?"

"It's for you, Lyda."

"Oh Tara! Thank you. But they're all destroyed already. Or as good as destroyed.." Lyda pouted.

"Well, when I say they're for you," began Tara, enjoying the view of Lyda's pout getting even poutier, "I mean they're for us."

"For us?" asked Lyda, raising an eyebrow sexily. There were over thirty Earthers in the pile. In places they were stacked five deep. The shorter girl caught the gleam in her lover's eyes. Suddenly, she thought she understood what Tara was intending. "You mean," she asked, slowly, "they're going to be our bed?"

"Uh-huh," confirmed Tara, grinning.

"But I don't feel like sleeping, Tara."

"I know you don't Lyda. Neither do I."

"Oh Tara!"

"Oh Lyda!"



"We have selected you for this task because the Panel of Society need a person of trust, who will be able to bring the miscreants to the Justices as efficiently as possible."

"I am honoured to be given the duty, Excellency."

"Do not spend any longer than necessary locating them. Do not allow yourself to be distracted by... by being on Earth. It is imperative that you avoid engagement with Earthers and Earther technology."

"Of course, Excellency."

"Once you have located the miscreants, you may use this transporter band to return them and yourself to this chamber. I will instruct the Representatives of the Justices to be ready. Do not let me down!"

"Of course not, Excellency."


Conceptfan, Dec. 2017.