"Plan 8 from Outer Space". Violent and evil supergirl fiction by Conceptfan.


Lisa's a bad girl and that's why they locked her up. Far beyond Earth, a plan is hatched that will transform her in ways she'd never imagine. But some things never change. After all, why should an aggressive, angry teenage delinquent learn manners just because she's suddenly superhumanly beautiful and powerful?

Now available as an audio experience on GirlPowerAudio


You're a bad lot, you Earth humans.  Not all of you, of course.  I know myself, from personal experience, that there are quite a few decent individuals amongst you.  But as a collective unit you're bad.  Very bad.

And it's not just me who holds that opinion.  Most of the rest of the universe agrees.  That's why we had to think up a really ingenious plan for you.   Actually, you're not even supposed to know about it, but I can't see the harm in letting you in on the secret.  You'd probably find out sooner or later anyway, what with your deviousness and your cunning….

You see, we've been watching your little planet for a long time now.  We've seen your species evolve and develop.  Just recently, we've noticed you beginning to get to grips with technology.  And that's where the all the problems stem from.  We've realised that you're quite good at it. Too good, really.

Let me explain: it's one thing that your species has flexible intelligence.  That wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have such fertile imaginations.  Together, these two assets allow you to make huge leaps forward.  Again, that would be fine if you'd had enough time to shake off your primitive survival instincts.  But you haven't.

Your brains are a mess.  Half the time you think exactly the same way you did before you invented the wheel.  The other half of the time, you're discovering things that should be too advanced for you by ten thousand generations.  So, you still have an irrational fear of difference and strangers.  But you express that fear with weapons which are just as destructive as those that can be found on worlds that have learnt to overcome such primeval concepts.

In short, you've come too far too fast.   You're a danger to yourselves.  You've managed to become both the most creative and the most destructive species we've ever seen and you've done it in the blink of a cosmic eye. No doubt all that makes you feel very proud of yourselves. It shouldn't, but you probably can't even help it.  Arrogance is just yet another of your negative qualities.

Even given all that, our interest in you would be restricted to mild curiosity alone were it not for one particular element of your technological development: space exploration. You might not think you've achieved all that much in this regard, but, believe me, you're light-years ahead of where we thought you'd be by now.  And at the rate you're going, it won't be long before you discover a method of interstellar travel.

And there's the key to the whole problem.  We - that's to say almost all the intelligent life in the universe - don't want a bunch of imaginative psychopaths on the loose.  You're simply too dangerous.  You'll upset the harmonious balance of the galaxies and start exporting the violence and mayhem we associate with your world. Basically, we don't want you. Certainly not until you've significantly matured as a species.  And that's why we decided we had to find some way of at least delaying your progress so that you can evolve away from your primitive mental state before you start exploring the cosmos.

By now, the more belligerent among you will be asking why we hyper-advanced, super-intelligent beings don't just destroy your world before you become a threat to us.  Or perhaps you're surprised that we haven't already invaded and occupied your planet to take control of your development.  Well, if that's what you're thinking, then it proves just how uncivilized you are.

You see, the rest of the universe doesn't behave in that way.  Not any more.  We have laws forbidding aggression and colonisation.  We cannot attack unless we are attacked first and these laws can never be broken.  So what can we do?  Our great fear is that once Earth has developed sufficiently to begin engaging in hostile action, it will be too late for us to defend ourselves.  We are certain that you will one day wage war on us, but we cannot pre-empt you.  It is our law.

Now, I've already mentioned that we do things differently from you.  And our ingenious scheme proves it.  As I explained, our law prohibits us taking direct action and we are nothing if not respecters of law.  A big part of our problem with you is that so many of you seem to think that laws are made to be broken.  We believe that laws are made to be upheld and obeyed.  Even when needs dictate, we would never ignore the rules.  But we can work around them...

Basically, it works like this: we need to keep you out of our way, but we can't attack or destroy you.  We have to find another way.  One idea might be to interfere in your ridiculous politics and encourage you to destroy yourselves.  After all, you already possess more than enough tools to do the job.  However, such direct interference is absolutely forbidden, and, as I said, we always stay within the law.

Fortunately, there is a tiny loophole in that law.  Although we can't fight or meddle with your populations or your governments, careful study has revealed that the law makes no specific mention of single individuals. If the cause is justifiable, then we can interfere in any way we see fit with one member of a species without fear of breaking our sacred rules.  And that is the key to our plan.  For we believe that a solitary human being benefiting from our technology can help us achieve our goal.

Let me explain in terms an inhabitant of Earth can understand.  We want to set your armies against each other, but we can't.  What we can do, is set just one of you against all the others.  Now, that might not seem like much of a fight.  It certainly wouldn't last very long, and we require a conflict that will occupy the people of Earth for several thousand generations.  But, like you, we are resourceful.  We have the solution.

The longest battles (and we intend this one to be exceptionally long) take place between equals.  The better balanced the two sides are, the harder it is for either to achieve victory.  In our particular case we would like to pit an individual against an entire species, clearly an unequal contest.  Unless, that is, we make one little alteration.  Nothing much, you understand.  Just enough to ensure that the individual we select is equal to all the rest of humanity combined.

So that is our plan:  take one inhabitant of Earth, tweak it slightly so that it is as powerful as all the others together, and set it to work keeping all the others busy.  It's a scheme of such devious invention that it is entirely worthy of your troublesome little planet.

The only problem we anticipate is selecting the correct individual.  After all, members of your species have such wildly different personalities.  Many of you would be reluctant to behave in the manner we desire.  We must find one who actively wishes to exist in perpetual opposition to all the others.  One who would respond in the correct manner to the changes we would make.

And that is the stage we have reached.  Making our final choice.  We have watched and observed millions of you, rejecting those we felt unsuitable until we were left with just one.  Now, it is time to begin implementation of Plan 8: The elimination of Earth as a threat to the universe.


Conceptfan, Oct. 2003.


Fuck this place! Ten o'clock and they come round and turn the lights off. Doesn't matter if you're reading or what you're doing. They just turn them off. At ten! I mean, we're not children, although that's how they treat us. I'm the only person who can decide if I'm ready for bed, not some fucked-up miserable screw. Ten o'clock for chrissakes! I'm sixteen years old. I'm a woman and I've got the body to prove it, so why are they treating me like a kid?

What are they trying to do - save me from a life of crime by making me have an early night?

Fuck them! They make me so angry. I mean, this place is supposed to make us think about what we've done and all that, but it just makes me want to fucking scream. I know the score. All that punishment and rehabilitation crap is... well, it's crap. I'm here cos I got caught, not cos it's going to change me. Just cos I got pissed off with all the stupid rules, they decide they can't handle me and dump me in this place. Like it's supposed to make me a "better citizen" or some shit like that. It's all just crap. They don't like me, and they've got power so they get rid of me for a few years.

Actually, I'm lying a bit when I say that this place hasn't changed me. It has changed me a bit. Next time I set my old school on fire, I'm going to be more careful. For starters, I'll do it properly and destroy the whole fucking building, not just the ground floor. And the other thing I'll change is that I'll make damn sure no-one's watching me and telephoning the fucking cops. No way am I ever going to let myself get stuck in a shit-hole like this again...




I had this wonderful dream the other night. It was so real. It starts and I'm not in my room anymore, instead I'm outside - like it's after I've been released or maybe (even better) I've busted out. Anyway, I'm creeping round the wall at night and in my hands is this huge can of rocket fuel or something and I'm splashing it about.

When the can's empty, I pull out a match and strike it. Then, suddenly, in the light I can see all the screws and the governor and everyone leaning out the windows. They start begging me to stop and some of them are trying to blow out the match but they're too far away. I'm just laughing cos it's so funny to see all those fuckers getting so desperate and then I drop the match, but I woke up before it hit the ground.

I wish I had that dream again. It was cool - instead of people just saying I was a problem and pushing me around and turning my fucking lights off at ten p.m., they were actually begging me. I bet they'd have done anything I told them to just to stop me throwing that match. It was like... Like I had power. Fucking awesome!




At ten, one of the late-shift arseholes does his rounds, making everything dark and singing out "Lights off!" like he's so fucking proud of ruining everyone’s night. I call out something like "I'm reading, arsehole, come back in ten minutes." and he says something about how I should've thought about that before I decided to become a juvenile delinquent and don't call him arsehole.

I give him the finger but he doesn't see it cos he's out in the corridor and the door's locked so I shout "Fuck you!" but I know he probably can't hear me through the door when the observation hatch is closed. I fucking hate them. Every one. And the other inmates are almost as bad. I wish I really was outside with that big can of fuel.

There's nothing to do in the dark except play with myself and after I've done that till I'm almost sore, I'm bored shitless. I close my eyes and try and bring back that dream but it doesn't work. So I'm just lying there, listening to the pipes in the wall, waiting for the morning and all the shit that comes with it like cold showers and crappy breakfast.

Then, about two or three in the morning, I suddenly hear this voice. Real close. "Good morning, Lisa." It's kind of deep and grand-sounding like some old stage actor. I turn round quick. It's dark, but my eyes have had four hours to adjust and I can see enough to know there's no-one there. "Don't bother looking for me, I'm not there." says the voice. I search the room and I can see that the voice is right.

By now, I'm thinking 'what the fuck?'. Either this place has finally driven me completely crazy or else some joker's hidden a loudspeaker somewhere in my room. It must be pretty small, cos I can't see it. "Relax." the voice says. "I can guarantee that nothing will harm you."

So I say "Who the fuck are you?" and the voice says "I represent the united universe" or some shit like that. Now I know that I'm really going nuts. "Fuck off back to the universe then, and leave me alone!" I say, only half-aloud cos I'm sure the whole thing is just in my head.

"I will in a moment," goes the voice, "but first there's something I have to tell you."

I know just what to answer to that. "Piss off. I'm not listening."

"You don't have any choice." says the voice. I find out that he's right when I put my hands over my ears and start humming loudly. His words are just as clear as before. It's like he's standing inside my brain.

"Don't worry, it won't take long." he says, much louder than the sound of my humming, so I give up and stop. I'm certain that I'm going mad, hearing voices from the universe, and I just want it to go away.

"What do you want?" I say.

"I want a fair fight," the voice carries on, "You against the world. At the moment the odds are somewhat against you."

"Yeah, right!" I say.

"So you agree." The voice seems happy, so I come back with:

"Yeah, 'course I agree with you. You're me. You're just a bit of my brain that's gone stir crazy. So shut up and let me sleep."

But instead of doing that, the voice says "You're wrong, Lisa. I'm not part of you."

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

"Very well." And the inside of my room starts to get a bit lighter like a candle's been lit or something. But there's no candle and the light feels all wrong anyway - it's kind of greenish and it's constant, not flickering. Now I can see the walls clearly. I look for the loudspeaker, but I can find anything.

The green light gets brighter and I have to close my eyes a bit and then after a while it actually starts to hurt and I put my hands over my face. "Ow! Stop it, for fuck's sake!" I say and the voice says, "Now do you believe I'm not in your imagination?"

"I could've imagined this." I reply.

"But not this." goes the voice, and suddenly, my bed just disappears from under me. I mean vanishes into thin air. One second I'm lying on it, the next I'm falling onto the hard lino floor, smacking my back.

"Ouch!" I shout. "Jesus Christ! What the fuck's going on?"

"Be calm," the voice says, "It's the last time you'll ever feel pain."

"What?" I'm more confused than anything else now.

"That is what I have to tell you." says the voice. "You see, you're the one, Lisa. You're the one we've chosen."




Now I've got a shit-load of questions. Like: Who exactly are you? How are you speaking inside my head? How the fuck did you do that trick with my bed? What do you mean 'me against the world in a fair fight' and 'the last time I'll ever feel pain'? You know, stuff like that. But before I can even get started on them, the weird green light gets a hell of a lot brighter till I can see it through my closed eyelids and my hands which are covering my face.

"Turn that fucking light down!" I shout. But I'm surprised to find that I'm beginning to get used to it really quickly. Somehow, I can tell that it's me adjusting, not the light getting dimmer. Soon I can take my hands from my face and a little while later, I'm opening my eyes and just looking at the green glow with no problem.

Not only that, but I start to realise that I don't feel tired anymore, as if I'd just woken up after twelve hours' sleep on a decent bed. I stand up and it feels strange, like I hardly weigh anything, but I'm not dizzy or anything. In fact, I feel really secure, really comfortable and relaxed, just somehow incredibly light. Weird!

The light's fantastically bright now, but I'm having no trouble keeping my eyes open wide and staring at it. "Hey, mystery voice!" I call out. "You still here?"

"I'm still here." it says.

"What're you doing to me? It feels really cool."

"We're changing you, Lisa. At this very moment, we are going through your body molecule by molecule changing your structure completely."

"Sounds like a load of fancy words for feeling me up, you fucking pervert." I say, but I'm not really angry. Like I say, it feels terrific.

"I can assure you we have no such interest in you." the voice goes, and it reminds me of all the guys who've said similar stuff when I've made a move on them. Talk about hurting my self-esteem!

It must be showing on my face cos the voice suddenly asks "What's wrong, Lisa? The transformation is supposed to be a pleasurable experience." and I just say "Mind your own fucking business." But then I get really freaked out when I hear "You're displeased by your appearance. We can address that."

"Address what?" I ask, still scared by the way the voice knows what I was thinking.

The voice answers: "You wish to be vastly more sexually desirable. Consider the fulfilment of that to be our gift for your selection."

Gift? Selection? "Hey, voice," I say, "You're starting to talk crap again."

"I assure you that I am revealing only truths. If you persist in doubting me, I can only suggest that you take a look for yourself." it says, grandly.

I'm not at all clear what it all means, but I look anyway. I look at the four walls of my room, at the space where my bed used to be and I look at the ceiling. I see absolutely nothing unusual except the freaky green light everywhere. Then I look down and I nearly scream in shock cos the first thing I see is the top of two of the biggest, roundest, firmest tits I've ever seen. And they're on my chest! Riding high and proud on my chest.

"Fucking hell!" I whisper as I bring up my hands to touch the wonders. I find that I can't cover them with my hands as they're much too big, but they feel incredible to touch - so smooth and firm. Then, I realise I'm completely nude. "What have you done to me you fucking pervert?"

"The image comes from within you." the voice says and I know it's true. I look at myself and I can see the whole of my body has changed - my waist is now completely flat, my hips curved and my legs and arms much longer and more shapely. I look exactly like my idea of the perfect woman, just like the voice said.

"What about my clothes?" I ask, cos I don't like the idea of the voice staring at my body - even if he's responsible for it suddenly now being absolutely fucking gorgeous.

"Lisa, you have nothing to fear from me. You have nothing to fear from anyone anymore." he says.

"Whatever." I say. "Now give me back my clothes, pervert."

"Your garments will no longer fit you. And it is not possible for me to be perverted. I am not human." he announces.

"What are you then, a social worker?" It's a crap joke but it's the best I can do.

"The transformation is almost complete." the voice announces, obviously keen to change the subject. "I will no longer be with you soon. If you wish for clothes to suit the new state of your molecules, accept these."

I don't feel anything but when I look down again I get another shock. Out of the blue, I'm wearing this incredibly tight, sleeveless black T-shirt. The amazing breasts I seem to have been "given" look like they're going to burst out at any second yet I'm clearly not wearing any kind of bra cos I can see the shape of my huge new nipples, clear as anything.

I'm also wearing a tiny pair of khaki shorts. They're split at the sides so that most of my smooth, round thighs are visible and only just long enough to cover my crutch. I run my finger inside the waistband, amazed at how thin I suddenly am, and find that the voice hasn't bothered to give me any knickers.

"I said you were a pervert and I was right! Where's my fucking underwear?" I snarl.

"We have given you a great gift, Lisa." goes the voice, "You should not be concerned with such details."

"Fuck you and fuck your gift! Put me back the way I was and just piss off." I answer, cos if there's one thing I really hate, it's being lectured.

"So," the voice says, "we have indeed chosen well. You're angry. Very angry. And ungrateful. Good.."

"Who the fuck are you?" I demand through clenched teeth, but the voice doesn't reply. Instead, it says: "The transformation is complete. We will disturb you no longer."

The green light fades quickly and then is completely gone. Everything's as it was in my room except my bed's still missing and I've turned into this ultra-sexy babe squeezed into a tiny T-shirt and shorts. Before I can even move, I hear the voice saying "Good bye, Lisa."

"Fuck off!" I call out, but there's no answer. I've got a lot of questions for the voice, but I'm not about to start asking politely for it to come back. That's just not my style. Besides, I'm sure it's all been another weird dream.




I stand there for a couple of moments, staring down at the incredible body I seem to have now. I can't sit cos the bed's gone, so I just stand, waiting to wake up as my original self, back in my bed. But nothing happens. I figure I must be still in the dream and the proof is the way everything in my room looks too visible for the middle of the night. I check the tiny, high window and it's black out there. No sign of dawn. But I can see the walls as clearly as if it were a summer's day and the lights were on.

And that's not the only strange thing about this dream. Without the voice distracting me, I should be able to hear the plumbing like I did before, but it sounds different now. The gurgles of the water system are much louder, and I can pick up other strange noises now. Noises like... like breathing. Like loads of sleeping people breathing. But I've been stuck in this place long enough to know that the walls are too thick for you to hear even shouting in the next room. No way should I be able to listen to people sleeping.

But I can definitely hear those noises from somewhere. I can also hear a scratching sound nearby. Looking in its direction, I'm staring at the wall and - incredibly - I spot a fly walking up the plaster. Suddenly, like a camera in a nature documentary, my vision focuses completely on the fly and I can see horrid, tiny details all over its ugly body even though I know it's impossible without lights and a microscope. I blink in disgust and my view returns to normal. Weird!

Even though it's hateful, I stare at the fly again and it zooms into detail. A blink and everything's normal. Well, sort of normal, if seeing in the dark is normal. It's incredible - like my eyes have become super-charged or something. I turn around and try the same trick on another wall, examining a tiny crack about the size of the edge of my little finger-nail until it looks as big as the Grand Canyon to me.

Suddenly, I hear the faintest of regular tapping sounds somewhere in the distance. Thinking about the amazing trick I've been practising with my eyes, I try concentrating on the sound. Incredibly, it works and I can make the tapping seem much louder and kind of "tune out" all the other noises of people breathing and water moving through pipes. Now, I can tell that the tapping sound is footsteps. Somehow, I also can hear that they're getting nearer and which direction they're coming from.

I can't blink my ears, but I find that I can make my hearing like it was before by no longer concentrating on the footsteps. I play for a while, focussing on the sound and then listening to all the other strange noises at once and using my eyes to zoom in and out on tiny objects in the room. It's awesome, like I've got special seeing and hearing gadgets built into my head. I've never had a dream like this before!

The footsteps are getting closer and closer, but it seems to be taking ages. It must be because they're coming from a long way away. My ears have to be incredibly sensitive. I try concentrating on the sound and now I can hear other noises along with the sound of the shoes. There's keys, bouncing in a pocket. Must be one of the screws. Also, there's breathing - heavy like someone hurrying. And now I'm really concentrating I can also hear something else. A dull thud like a muffled drum. No! It couldn't be! Can I really hear someone else's heart beating all that way away?

I've never heard the screws moving about at night. The doors are so thick and heavy, the only thing you ever hear is the sound of the bastards opening the horrible observation hatch in the door just before they stare in at you. You never get to hear them coming. That's the point. They sneak up on you so that they can catch you doing whatever it is you're doing. Only tonight, in this dream, I can hear his heartbeat!

The steps are still heading this way. It's like the screw or whoever it is has had to walk a hell of a long way since I first heard him. I'm just standing here, waiting to find out if it's me who's the lucky one chosen for a middle-of-the-night visit. I know I've been shouting at the strange voice, but I thought that no-one else could hear in this place. Anyway, that was a dream, right? And all this - the incredible eyesight and hearing, the sound of approaching feet - must also be part of the same dream. Otherwise, I would be my old self, back in my old clothes in my bed. Not standing next to where the bed disappeared, "transformed" into a teenage boy's fantasy.

The steps are really loud now. I stop concentrating on them, and I can still hear them clearly, along with the breathing and the heart-beat.  I can tell whoever it is walking down my corridor. Finally, the shoes stop banging the floor - right outside the door. So, I am the one the screw's come to investigate. I hear the sound of rustling clothes and heavier breathing and then, incredibly loudly, the little view hatch is opened.

Normally, you can only just tell that there's someone there, but tonight I can easily see two grey-green eyes and the rough, blotchy skin around them. I "zoom in" and watch the two black pupils slowly growing as they try and view the inside of my room through the panel. I'm standing there, almost in the middle of the room, but I can tell that the eyes are looking straight through me. Is it too dark for the guy to see me? It was light enough for me to study the individual hairs on a fly a few moments ago.

"Reed?" the owner of the eyes calls. Why do these bastards always use your second name? I recognise the voice of one of the regular night-screws. He never works the day shift, so I don't know his face. He's not one of the fuckers who switches of the lights, but he's still a screw and therefore a bastard. I don't say anything. Suddenly, I realise that I can smell his breath - he's been eating cheese - and the sweat on his face. I've never smelt even a stinky screw from this distance before.

I wonder if I can tune out the horrid smell like I can sounds. I try concentrating and the smell becomes much weaker. I also experiment with doing the reverse, but stop quickly before the stench makes me chuck my guts. OK, that's cool. In this dream I have mega-senses and I'm gorgeous. I can handle that. It's just a weird dream after all.

I have to remember to tune out the stink of the screw's breath when he starts talking: "Reed, have you got some kind of lamp in there? I could see light coming through your window. Reed! Are you awake?"

I don't answer cos I know that whatever I say won't make a difference. The bastard's going to come in and search my room anyway. The light he saw must've been the weird green light from earlier, but he probably thinks I've got a secret torch or something and he's come to confiscate it, like I was ten fucking years old. God, I hate this place!

He looks down for a moment and I'm waiting for him to start making a racket with his keys but instead his face reappears, this time behind something which he's holding in his hand. Even before he clicks it on, I can see it's an electric torch. Like it's OK for this fucker to shine his light into my room in the middle of the night but I'm not allowed one for my own personal use. That's just typical of this place.

I can actually hear his finger clicking the switch to turn on the beam. With my eyes well-enough adjusted to the dark to see the outline of the torch before it's lit, I expect to be blinded by the sudden light. But actually, it doesn't affect me at all, even though he's shining it straight into my eyes. In fact, I can still see his ugly eyes behind the glare just as clearly as before. I know that's impossible, but it's a dream, after all.

Now the guy can see me - all of me. He shines his torch up and down my dream body, taking his time over the place where my incredible tits are stretching my T-shirt to its limit. As he's never properly seen me before, he's not surprised by the way I look now, but it clearly has some effect on him, cause with my incredible hearing, I notice that his heart is beating much faster and he's breathing quicker too. I can also smell something new wafting towards me from his direction which I guess is the scent of horny screw. Yuck!

I hate to admit it, but I've always got jealous when I see guys staring at other girls and women. If this dream is really what it's like, I'm not sure it's such a great thing to be so sexy. Especially if you've got an ultra-sensitive sense of smell. I mean this bastard is just staring at the top half of my torso like he's paralysed. I bet his stinky little cock is as hard as a rock, the pervert.

Eventually, he manages to look at something other than my chest and flashes the torch-light around the corners of the room. He goes round twice and then stops, the beam lighting up the empty space where my bed was until it disappeared.

"What happened to your bed?" he asks. For once, I find myself telling the truth to a screw.

"It vanished."

"Very funny," he says in this really annoying, sarcastic way. "but I'm not sure the governor will be laughing when he hears about it in the morning. Now, what have you done with your bed?"

I told the truth for fuck's sake! What's his problem? Even though I know it means trouble for me, I can't help answering: "Are you deaf as well as stupid? I said it fucking vanished, alright!"

That does it. "Congratulations!" he says, and I can hear that he's smiling, the fucker. "You've just delayed your release by a month or two." He snaps the observation hatch shut. That's normally when everything goes dark and silent, but tonight, I can see just fine. I can also hear him through the brick wall and the thick metal door. He's on his walkie-talkie. Christ, I can even hear the voice of the jerk he's talking to!

This dream is just weird. I mean I'm expecting the guy to turn into a squirrel or something, but instead he's behaving just like he would in real life. He's calling for another screw to come over so he can do a room-search. They have to have two of them together to do that. Probably so that if one feels you up, the other can deny it later. I don't really care why. I'm just pissed off that they're going to put their filthy hands all over my stuff, and in the middle of the night too.

And there's the fact that the smug bastard is right, and I probably am going to get into trouble for what I said. I fucking hope this really is a dream. Cos, if it's not I've just wasted a couple of weeks of my life with one stupid remark. But it must be all in my mind. I mean - the hyper-senses, the mysterious voice, the bed disappearing - that can't be real... it just can't!

I'm getting a little nervous now, so I try the classic old trick of pinching myself. It's strange looking at my arm, which has become much longer and thinner, plus is now without a single little mark anywhere. And it feels strange, too. Soft, yet firm. There's hardly enough spare skin for me to pinch but I do find some and squeeze it as hard as I can between my thumb and forefinger. It feels like a normal pinch and I let go immediately.

I wasn't expecting that. I mean, you're not supposed to be able to do that in a dream. I'm kind of a little scared now. I go to slap myself on the cheek but pause for a second to study my hand cos it looks like the kind of hand you see on adverts - perfect skin, long, thin and straight fingers and immaculate nails, all the same length and completely unbitten. Those can't be mine.

But when I do slap my face it stings for a second as normal. Maybe the feeling disappears a bit faster than I would have thought, but I definitely feel the slap and it's scared the shit out of me. I hit myself on both cheeks three more times. It doesn't hurt but it's not exactly pleasant either. Besides, if I was dreaming, no way could I still be asleep after that...

Fucking hell! Can this actually be for real? I mean - everything? The voice from the universe, the green light, the vanishing bed? And what the hell has happened to me? The incredible senses of sight, hearing and smell - can I really do all that now? What about this incredible body - did the "transformation" take place in the real world? Is this me now? How long is it going to last? Christ, I'm so freaked out!

I sit down on the hard floor for a moment. As confused as I am, I still get a surprise when the ground doesn't feel cold. It's always cold at night in here. It's like, in addition to all the other weird shit, I can't feel cold anymore. I try concentrating on feeling the temperature against my legs and suddenly, I can tell that the floor's a little cooler than my skin. Even my sense of touch seems to be adjustable. What the hell's happened to me?

I can hear the screw outside my room, pacing up and down, waiting for his colleague to join him. I nearly forgot about the room-search. I imagine the two screws putting their hands all over my stuff and drooling over my new body. God, they make me so sick. And all I can do is just wait here for them to start. I can't lock the door from the inside, I can't call for someone else to help me and I certainly can't fight two screws both of which are twice my size, although I'd love to tear a chunk out of them - just to let them know they can't push me around. It makes me so fucking angry.

There's the sound of the other screw's footsteps. Thinking back to what I heard when the first bastard came, there's still about half a minute until he gets here. Thirty seconds 'till they unlock the door and the humiliation begins. They'll tell me to stand by my bed while they start rummaging through my things. Well, fuck that! I don't even care if it costs me another six months in this shit-hole. I'm not going to just stand there and take orders.

I'm listening to the sound of the other screw walking this way, and I'm hardly even amazed that I can hear it at all. I mean I'm pretty sure now that all this weird stuff with the bed and my senses is for real, but I'm just too pissed off with the fact that I'm going to have my room searched to be freaked out by that.

He's in the corridor now. The two bastards are whispering to each other and I can hear every single word through the wall and the door. The one who was here first is explaining about the strange light he saw and how I somehow managed to hide my bed. Now he's telling his pal about my attitude problem. My attitude problem! What a fucking cheek! It's them that have the fucking problem, not me.

The observation hatch opens and the beam of a torch shines in right on to my face, but I don't even blink because of the weird alien "thing" that has given me super-vision or whatever. I see the eyes of the second screw behind the flashlight, and hear his heart and his panting speed up as he stares at my cosmic boob-job. The other guy must have flicked the switch out there, because the lights come on in my room. So what! I could see just fine with them off.

Finally, there's the sound of keys and then the clunking of the lock. The door opens slowly and the two screws are standing there, ready to walk in. But before they do, they both take a good few seconds to ogle me from head to toe and back again, pausing each time at my chest. What a pair of disgusting old men!

"Right, Reed!" says the one who's just arrived, "What've you done with your bed?"

"An alien took it." I tell him. It's the truth, but of course he doesn't believe me.

"Well it was here this evening," the first screw says in a smart-arse voice. "This door has been locked ever since and that window doesn't open, so, unless you've eaten it, it must be hidden in this room. You haven't eaten it, have you, Reed? Rest assured, we will find what you've done with it."

They go to the door-less cupboard where we're allowed to keep a few bits of clothes. (It's one of the few differences between this place and a so-called "adult" prison. That and the fact that there are no bars here. As if a great thick wall and a fuck-off heavy door are any better.)

They're starting to get into the search now. The bastards look so pleased with themselves. One of them is pulling out my T-shirts one by one and just dropping them on the dirty floor. The other one is examining my underwear as if there really might be a bed hidden in a pair of knickers. I feel totally sick at how pervy he's being and I lose control.

"Leave my fucking pants alone you sicko!" I hiss.

He turns around, smiling, still holding a pair of my knickers. "I think you've forgotten where you are, young lady!" he says. That's it! That's fucking it! No way am I going to take any more of this patronising crap.

"Give those back!" I say and make a snatch for the bit of my underwear that's dangling from his hand.

"Ouch!" he shouts, I guess because it hurt his hand when I pulled the knickers out of his fingers. He looks shocked and pissed-off. I'm suddenly really worried about what he's going to do now. I'm expecting him to try and grab the panties back, but instead he laughs, turns back to the cupboard, pulls out a whole handful of underwear and spins back to me. Then he makes a big show of lifting the small bundle of my knickers up to his face and taking a big sniff before laughing some more. It's enough to push me right over the edge.

"You fucking pervert!" I shout, and I slap him on the cheek because he definitely fucking deserves it. Only something really, really strange happens. There's this massive "whack!" sound when my palm hits him and the guy's entire fucking head just explodes. I mean it. It explodes. It turns red immediately and bits go everywhere. At the same time, I don't feel anything at all - no sting, no bruise nothing.

Chunks of head are hitting me, on my face and on my body but I still don't feel anything. Something splats on the wardrobe and this huge red stain appears. In fact, I notice that there's blood everywhere. Then I see the guy I slapped and.. and he's got no fucking head!! He's still standing but he's just got a neck with this red fountain coming out of it and no head. Then he falls over. Well I guess it's not him any more, but the body falls anyway.

I want to scream cos it's all so fucking disgusting and I'm sure there's blood and stuff all over me. I've seen it hit me, even though I haven't felt anything. But I don't scream as I'm just too freaked out. I just feel like it's a dream again, that I was wrong when I pinched myself and that I am still asleep. Fuck, this is so weird! I felt it when I pinched myself. I didn't feel anything when I slapped the guy's head off.

The other screw's got red all over him, too. He's looking at me in total shock and I guess I'm looking at him pretty strangely, too. Anyway, he seems to snap out of it, cos he screams "Fucking bitch!", takes a step towards me and then makes a grab for my wrists but somehow he misses, cause I don't feel anything. No, wait, now I look I see that he hasn't missed. He is holding my two wrists, one in each hand. But I can't even feel his fingers on my skin.

This is so fucking strange! Judging by the grimace on his face and what's just happened, he must be gripping me pretty tight, and haven't even noticed it. I try the trick of concentrating, and, yes, I can feel his big, rough hands on my slim forearms. When I relax my brain, the sensation disappears. The screw's lips are curled back like he's putting real effort into hurting me, but even when I really concentrate, there's hardly any sensation.

I'm totally confused by what's going on, but part of my brain is obviously still working cos I suddenly recall the mystery voice from earlier saying something about me never feeling pain again. Oh my god! This can't be for real! I mean... What if the voice actually was an alien who really has given me a new body with matching clothes, super-senses and the ability to not feel pain?

I look down at the two hands clasping my wrists. It truly feels as if the screw's hands aren't there at all, like my hands are just hanging loose in front of my waist. The guy's grunting now. His teeth are bared, there's sweat on his forehead and an ugly vein in his temple is bulging. I look down at his hands again and see his knuckles are white. He's straining! He's trying to pull my hands up or away from my body or something - whatever it is, it's not working even though he's struggling like crazy.

It's unbelievable. My arms aren't budging at all. In fact, I can't even feel it. But he's really putting everything into it. Why can't he move my wrists? It's not as if they're tied up or anything. He's a big guy and I'm not exactly large (not counting my "new" chest, anyway). His hands must be twice the size of mine - my wrists are completely hidden in them. But somehow, he can't shift them. "What... the... fuck?..." he hisses between heavy breaths, but I don't have the answer.

I do know that it must have something to do with all the other weird stuff that's gone on. The voice, the green light, the disappearing bed - none of that was any less bizarre than what's happening now. Maybe whatever has made my senses so hyper-charged and my body so ultra-sexy has also paralysed my arms. I feel a bit of panic at the idea of being frozen to the spot by some kind of alien glue-ray. I have to see if it's true. Slowly, nervously, I try moving my hands a little apart.

Fuck! That's amazing. My hands just move as normal. It's as if they're not being held by anyone or anything; they just separate without any problem, like the only thing stopping them is air, not a fucking screw! The guy groans and I look at him. The strain is even more obvious on his face, but there's also shock in his eyes. It's awesome. He's really, really surprised by what I've just done but it felt like nothing to me.

Something really incredible is happening here, I can definitely sense it. I'm getting all excited. I look down at my wrists, hidden in the screw's palms. It just doesn't seem possible that it was so easy for me to move my forearms, but impossible for the guy to shift them. I mean... it couldn't have happened the way I thought it did. Could it?

I've got to know. I start to raise my hands, not quickly, just lifting them a little. I don't feel any resistance, but I can clearly see both my hands and the screw's coming upwards. The guy is really groaning. Oh my god! He's actually trembling with the effort now, but it's nothing to me. It's so fucking easy! No question about it now. Our hands had been in front of the waistband of my shorts, but now they're almost level with my great big tits. I'm in total control of the contest. This is absolutely brilliant!

I just realised something. This is the first time since I got to this place that I've not felt totally at the mercy of a screw. It's a beautiful feeling and it's making me totally excited. I can see and hear the bastard's efforts to stop me moving my arms, but I can only feel them if I really concentrate. I immediately stop concentrating because it's much more fun when I don't notice his struggles.

He's started moving his whole body, trying to jerk my wrists, but it doesn't make any difference to me raising my hands. I've got them in front of my face now and still I lift them higher. It's just like doing a morning stretch, like I was completely alone. That's how hard it is to pull his arms up above my head, in front of his face now. He still doesn't let go of my wrists as I straighten my arms, my newly-lengthened limbs reaching about an inch higher than his head. It's so incredible to see that I just stay in that position and I'm amazed at how easy it feels.

Suddenly I hear the sound of fabric rubbing and look down, just in time to see the screw's knee headed straight for the centre of my belly. I don't have time to react and I'm in exactly the wrong position to move away cos I'm leaning a bit forwards, with my arms in the air. Fuck! This is going to hurt...

There's a loud crack as his knee smacks into me.  Suddenly, the screw is screaming. His hands suddenly let go of mine (I see it rather than feel it) and he clutches the knee he's just rammed me with. He starts hopping about, rubbing his leg, still shouting. It's all so weird, because I only noticed the moment of impact because of the sound. I didn't feel anything. But this guy's reacting like he's banged his knee into a brick wall or something.

Maybe... maybe he did kind of hit a wall - me. Maybe this gorgeous new body I've got is as hard as brick - that would explain why I'm not feeling any pain and why the screw's hurt himself so badly. It's possible I guess. I mean, if it's possible for me to have ultra-eyesight and ultra-hearing and all the rest and if it's possible for me to suddenly have the body of a schoolboy's fantasy and it's possible that my bed just disappeared then it's also possible that I'm now as hard as a wall...

OK, that seems to make a bit of sense. But what about the way I was moving the guy's hands about so easily? And what the hell happened with the other screw. If my hand was as hard as stone, it would have really hurt when I slapped him, but I did much more than hurt him - his head actually disintegrated like it'd been hit by a missile. It's got to be something more than just me being hard, like there's another change that I haven't figured out yet.

The screw's still hoping and crying like a baby and I'm just standing here looking at him. My hands aren't above my head any more, they're down by my sides, but I haven't moved my feet at all since he first grabbed my wrists. I take the moment to examine my hands. They look normal enough - even though the fingers are now a bit longer and thinner and the skin has now got no marks on it anywhere.

The skin does look amazing - it's, like, perfect. I stroke one hand with the other and it's really smooth. It feels like a hand though - not stone or brick. When I squeeze my right palm in the fingers of my left hand, the sensation is only a little less intense than it always feels. I squeeze again and then stop. It does feel almost exactly like it usually feels when I do that. But it shouldn't.

I mean, I'm not trying to crush my own hand, just giving it a little squeeze. I'm not concentrating on the feeling to make it more intense, either. And, no doubt about it, I can clearly feel the pressure I'm putting on myself. But when the screw grabbed me with his bigger hands I couldn't feel anything at all. I didn't even notice any sensation when he put his knee into my stomach, but he must've done it hard.

I poke my belly through my T-shirt where his knee landed. I can feel my finger! Running my hand under the bottom of my top I touch my bare skin. It feels incredibly smooth and awesomely flat, but even more incredibly, I can sense every little contact between stomach and fingertips. How can that be? Can I only feel my own hands on my body? Or... or... No. That can't be...

It's just not possible that I'm stroking myself with more force than the screw had put into kneeing me. That would have to mean that I'm now mind-blowingly strong or something. Strong enough to resist the screw pulling on my hands. Strong enough to explode a skull with just a slap. I almost gasp in shock as I realise. It couldn't be, could it? I mean, if my senses have changed then have my muscles also been super-charged?

I look at my long bare arms. There's no sign of any bulging muscle - they're longer and thinner than they used to be, but not muscular. They just don't look as if they've got any power in them at all. Maybe I'm completely wrong about the strength thing. Maybe there's some other explanation that I've missed. I've got to find out. And now.

The guy hops close to me, still moaning like he’s been shot or something. He’s so near that I can’t help just reaching out with a couple of fingers. I’m going to prod them at his shoulder. As soon as it’s close enough…

Fucking hell! This is totally incredible! I thought I hardly even touched the guy with my two fingertips, but he’s gone rolling over and over like a tyre that’s come loose from a racing car! He’s going to hit the wall. Fuck! That was a loud "thud".  Judging by the way his mouth’s open like he wants to scream in pain but no sound is coming out, it’s knocked all the air out of him. Did I do all that with just the touch of a pair of fingers?

Can I really be so strong? Along with all the other incredible changes that have happened to me? I just can’t wait any longer to find out. I’m walking over to where the screw is crumpled up by the wall. This time I try and grab his arm. Oh my god! Was that the sound of bone crunching? It must’ve been! He’s trying to scream again and his arm feels all squishy under the sleeve of his jacket.

I can’t believe I’ve crushed a guy’s arm just by lightly taking hold of it! This is utterly brilliant! Thank you, strange space-voice! I understand now what you meant when you said you were giving me a gift. I might even forgive you for stealing my underwear...

This is just so fucking awesome. I let go of the screw’s arm – he’s not going to be doing much with it for a while – and let him rub it with his good hand. I’m about to grab the other arm, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke or anything first time, but then I get an idea. It’s just something I’ve seen in a film or on TV that would be so cool if I could do it. I’ve got to try!

Instead of going for his upper arm, I reach for the knot of his tie, gripping it in my fist. Then, I start pulling my hand towards me, to see if I can lift the guy up like that. It seems to be working – his upper body is stretching upwards… this would be so great… Shit! His tie’s torn in half. He falls back a little and I’m left just holding a bit of cheap, frayed material. Nice idea, shame about the result.

I’m pissed off cos I really think it would have worked. If the tie had taken the man’s weight, I’m sure I could have lifted him onto his feet that way. I mean I felt no strain in my arm as I started pulling. I might try again with his shirt collar. No, it would probably rip, too. There’s got to be some way I can do this…

Got it! I open up my fingers so that my hand is flat and place my upturned palm under his chin. This will be even more awesome than lifting the guy by his tie. I’m doing it really, really slowly and carefully so I don’t do to his chin what I did to him arm, just lifting my hand, gently, gently, until… yes.. I’m touching him.

He looks confused for a moment and then he grabs my wrist with his good arm. It’s just like before when he tried to move my hand. He pulls and strains until his eyes look like they’re going to pop out of their sockets, but my hands stays right where it is. I’m still raising my palm and now I can see that I’m lifting his chin. His head is tilting back and his efforts to stop my hand are becoming more desperate.

It doesn’t affect me at all now that he’s struggling harder, except that I’m kind of enjoying seeing him fight so hard, knowing that it’s no effort for me to overpower him. I keep lifting his chin, amazed at how weightless it all feels as his legs straighten out beneath him. It’s just incredible to see. My hand is now about level with my eyes and he’s standing perfectly straight.

He’s looking into my eyes with this expression of shock and pain and it makes me feel great. I mean, a couple of minutes ago, this guy was poking about in my private stuff and just standing there while his friend laughed at me. Now, I’ve busted his knee and his arm and I’m making him stand up by holding him by the chin, giving him what he deserves.

But it is strange. To be so strong is a bit freaky. I shouldn’t be able to resist this big guy when he tries to pull my hand away, but in fact I don’t even have to make an effort to do it. I wonder just how strong I am. I mean, could I raise my arm a bit higher and actually lift the guy clean off the floor?

Fuck! Yes! I can! This is incredible! I’ve just lifted a large man completely from the ground with one hand under his chin. His legs are just dangling in the air! Now he’s kicking me with his big shoes, but I can’t feel his soles against my bare ankles. I’m just holding him there, in the air, and I’m not even getting tired. The weight of this guy feels like a sheet of paper or something to me. I could stay here, carrying this guy by his chin, all day!

The guy’s voice is beginning to come back and he’s trying to shout and scream, but he sounds terrible. He’s also still kicking me like a crazy horse and trying to hit me with his working arm, but I’m simply ignoring him, mainly cos I can. Experimentally, I lift him a bit higher and then lower him till his feet almost touch the ground.  Then up he goes again, then down.  Up and down. Again and again, trying to see if I get tired. But I don’t. All I’m doing is making him panic.

I look down for a moment and see the guy try to punch me in the stomach. I don’t feel anything, but I do hear the sound of screw’s hand crunching against my rock-hard belly. Fuck! This new body must be so incredibly hard! Now the guy’s almost crying. He can’t use either hand.  He’s not kicking me so much either. Maybe he’s getting tired. I think he’s trying to speak, but he can’t get any breath. I concentrate on hearing his voice.

It’s a real struggle for him to get any words out, and he whispers each one like it’s causing him bad pain. Maybe it is. He must be trying to apologise to me or something. I listen.

"Fuck…. you….. bitch…." he’s saying. The fucking bastard! No-one calls me a bitch!   I’m so angry, I push him away.

Oh shit! I shouldn’t have done that. Not with the strength that I have now. He’s just exploded in this huge red splash against the wall about three yards in front of me. His feet never touched the ground – I gave a shove with the hand that was under his chin and off he flew like a fucking rocket to splat before I had time to realise what I’d done.

It looks disgusting. There’s hardly anything recognisable left of him. It’s not that I feel bad about him dying, cos he was a bastard and it was his fault I got so angry. And, he was a screw anyway and they don’t deserve to live. But it’s a bit of a shock cos I didn’t mean to kill him and I certainly didn’t intend to make such a horrible mess.

The mess! Oh god! What’ll happen when someone finds all this? Someone will have to come soon, looking for the two screws. They’ll throw away the fucking key! I’ll never be free. As soon as my next birthday rolls around and I’m old enough, they’ll transfer me to a "proper" prison for the rest of my life. There’s no way I’m going to spend forever in jail. No fucking way. They’ll have to see that it was an accident, that the bastards provoked me…

Who am I kidding? They’ll never believe me when I say that they wound me up. They’ll… Wait! That’s it! They’ll never believe any of this. That aliens transformed me into a babe who can’t feel pain. That I’m strong enough to do all this. No-one will believe that. I’ll just say that the two guys exploded by themselves, and they’ll have to take my word for it. I mean, "unexplained explosion" sounds more believable than the truth.

I’ll just wait here until someone turns up and then pretend to cry and be really shocked. They’ll probably let me out early out of sympathy or something. I tune my ears to listen for the sound of approaching steps but there’s nothing, so I walk through the open door out into the corridor to see if I can hear anything there. Silence.

I suddenly stop. I’ve never been out in the corridor at night before. I’ve always been locked in my room. And I’ve never been in the corridor alone, without a screw in sight, at any time of day. It feels a bit strange. I can see all the locked doors to the other rooms where the girls are sleeping. I’ve never liked any of them and I’m not interested in seeing any of them right now.

But one door is interesting. The big metal one at the end of the corridor.   It’s huge and heavy and it’s got about five locks. Surely I can’t… I mean, just how strong can I be? And how cool it would be if I could…

I suppose there’s no point just wondering. I might as well find out.


Conceptfan, Oct. 2003.

The story so far...

Lisa Reed is a juvenile delinquent serving a sentence in borstal for arson. One night, she receives a "visit" from a mysterious, disembodied voice. Claiming to represent the other civilized planets of the universe, the voice tells Lisa that she has been specially selected for some kind of "transformation".

Suddenly, her appearance is altered from unremarkable to that of "a teenage boy's fantasy". Not only that, but her senses have become incredibly powerful. There are other changes, too, which she discovers when her room is searched by two guards.

For one thing, she can barely even feel the big, strong hands of a man twice her size as he tries to restrain her. Additionally, she seems to be incredibly strong - strong enough to easily lift a large man off the ground with just one hand. In fact, she's so powerful, she's just accidentally killed the two guards - one with a simple slap and the other with a distracted shove.

Now she finds herself in the corridor outside her room, staring at a huge metal door which was designed to keep several dozen rioting juveniles at bay. As she stares, she wonders just how strong she has become...


Part 2

That door's got to be at least five inches thick, and absolutely solid. I've seen the screws opening it in the morning. Once they've pissed about with the five locks, they have to shove it with two hands to get it to move on its hinges. And they don't just push the door and let it fly open like you do with a normal door - they have to keep pushing it all the way until it's open cos it's so heavy. And the screws are all big guys. I'm walking up to it now - a fucking great big slab of metal with enormous bolts sticking out of it. I feel pretty small next to it.

I guess part of the reason it's so big is to scare us. But I look down at my transformed body to remind myself that things are different now. The little spots of blood or whatever on my clothes and my skin make me remember that I've just killed two of those big guys. Thinking about how easy it was to smash their bodies, I start wondering again about how strong I've become. I reach out my right hand, extending my fingers towards the door.

The metal feels cool, smooth and hard as I stroke it - just as it would have done yesterday. Suddenly, I'm wondering if I haven't just imagined everything that's happened in the past few hours. But then I glance down for an instant, see the top of my huge "new" tits and the bloodstains all over and I know it's all for real. It's just weird how the steel feels so normal under my fingertips. Maybe if I press my fingers more firmly, the sensation will be different. Just a little more...

Oh my God! This is fucking incredible. The tips of my fingers are actually sinking into the metal! Like I was pushing on play-dough, not steel. It still feels perfectly ordinary to me - it certainly doesn't hurt or anything like that. I take my hand away to examine the door. Wow! There they are: five small, round indentations in the solid steel. There's no doubt about it. My fingers have slightly deformed the metal!

I can hardly believe it. I mean, picking up a screw by his chin is awesome. Making two of them explode like rotten tomatoes is incredible, but deforming steel by pressing lightly against it with my fingertips.... That's something else. I mean, just how strong am I? I'm incredibly excited and pretty freaked out as I position my left hand - supposedly my weaker one - in front of the door. I hold it flat, fingers stretched out just an inch or so from the metal. Taking a deep breath to calm myself (and making my incredible chest rise dramatically in the process) I jab my hand towards the door.

There's a sound a bit like a gun going off, but what really shocks me is the fact that I hardly feel anything. My fingers should have broken, but they haven't. Instead, they've just poked into the solid metal as if it was something soft like ice cream. I have to stare to take it in! The four fingers of my left hand are stuck in the door, buried almost up to my knuckles in the steel. And it was so easy! Lost in the wonder of it all, I try to wiggle my fingertips without pulling my hand back. The metal groans as if it was a person while I effortlessly widen the holes I've made, just by moving my fingers around.

Taking my hand away to examine my handiwork, I'm not even surprised any more to see the steel bending and tearing against my skin. I've made four rough holes in the huge door, each about three inches deep and an inch across. This is fucking amazing! I must be as powerful as a pneumatic drill. I'm just looking at what I've done to the steel and I realise I'm slowly licking my lips. I'm getting excited by this - by the thought of having so much strength. Not excited like a kid with a new toy - although there's a bit of that, too - but more... sort of... turned on.

I bring my hands towards my face and just study them, turning them over slowly, trying to see if there's anything about them that suggests they're now capable of mangling thick metal. But there isn't. I mean they're lovely - not a scratch or a mark anywhere on them, and the fingers are perfectly long and straight - but there's no bulging muscles, no weird alien marks or anything like that. I start wondering: is it just my fingers that are so strong? What about the rest of me?

Looking down at my body, it's hard to see anything other than my jutting breasts, but if I lean back a tiny bit I can catch a glimpse of my toes. Just like the rest of me, they seem to have been given some cosmic cosmetic surgery, because they used to be crooked and bent from wearing bad shoes, but now they're as straight and flawless as my fingers. I point them, ballet-style as I lift my long, beautiful right leg. Standing on one foot, yet feeling as solidly balanced as I had on two, I bring my toes towards the door until they're just touching the metal.

I notice that it looks as if the mystery voice has given me a pedicure. My toenails look perfect - neat and exactly the right length. Now the balls of my toes are touching the steel and I can feel the cold, solid metal just like I did with my fingertips. Curious, I keep my foot dead still and just curl my toes towards the door. There's a screeching sound and I stare in amazement as my dainty little toes scoop small chunks out of the steel. It's fantastic. Five strips of shiny metal are curling off the door as though my toes were spoons and the door was just a huge block of ice cream.

I stop, put my foot back on the ground and just look at the latest decoration I've added. So it's not just my fingers - my toes are also mega-strong. Awesome! I start wondering which part of my body I'll try next. Lifting my leg again, I press my bare knee slowly against the door. Again, the strange creaking sound rises to my ears. Again, I feel the cool metal against my skin but my lovely, smooth flesh meets no resistance from the steel and I pull my knee away to admire the perfect imprint it has left - a small crater about an inch-and-a-half deep at its centre.

This is fun. No, this is fucking brilliant! My elbows are next. I place them both about a foot apart on the door and just lean on them very slightly. They're smaller and more pointy than my knee, so they push into the steel much quicker and even more easily. I stop myself when they're about two-and-a-half inches into the metal block. Dropping my hands to my sides, I suddenly realise that I'm turning the door into a kind of Hollywood Boulevard-style tribute to my "new" body. That thought makes me smile. It's like every part of me is now stronger than steel.

Every part of me! It can't be true. I try to think of some way of testing the idea. I've already tried my hands and feet and arms and legs. What else can I experiment with? I know! I step up to the door and lean forwards until the tip of my nose touches it. Thrusting my head out a little, I'm rewarded with that same groaning sound from the metal and feel a really strange sensation as I bury half my nose inside the door. It's weird alright, but its also incredibly easy to do. Slowly, I lift my head and let my nose carve a little channel in the steel. I can't believe how soft this great big, thick chunk of metal seems to be!

With my nose still tearing through the door like a hot knife through butter, I get another flash of inspiration. I stop moving my head and open my mouth a little, so that I can poke out my tongue. I can taste the dirty metal and feel its texture just like I would have expected, but that's not what I'm interested in. Too curious and excited to be patient or careful, I just thrust out my tongue like a kid does. My face is too close to the door to see properly, but I can feel what's happening and it blows my mind.

I mean, tongues are supposed to be soft, aren't they? Well mine isn't. It made a sound like a bullet going off as it slammed into the steel. Then it just kept on going, ploughing into the metal as easy as... as easy as my fingers ploughed through the metal! How fucking cool is this! I move my tongue from side to side and listen to the door screaming in protest as I rip another deep hole in it, this time using nothing but my tongue. My tongue for fuck's sake! Tearing apart solid metal! Easily!

Moving back from the door, I touch my tongue, but it feels just like always has done. A little rough and a little slimy. But now I know it's as strong as.. As what? What kind of machine is strong enough to carve a two-inch deep hole in solid steel? Fucking hell!

I start to wonder just how powerful I've become. I glance at the door and take in all the "modifications" I've made to it. Seeing the effects of my actions, and remembering how easy they were, I start to feel a little over-awed by it all. Especially when I look at the big gash I've just made with my tongue.

Is it really possible that I've just done all that? With just my fingers and toes, my knee, my elbows - my tongue? Fuck! I'm so strong! I'm the most powerful person on Earth! I feel so.. incredible, so.. so.. horny. Even as I'm thinking it, my hands are making their own way up my body, rubbing against my hips and now my impossibly flat stomach. It feels great touching my body now that it's so unbelievably sexy. And powerful. Amazingly, unbelievably, unimaginably powerful.

My hands reach the undersides of my breasts; those huge, firm, twin mounds of rounded feminine perfection. I caress them through my t-shirt, sending fantastic tingles running through my entire body, amazed at their size, their shape and their feel. I've never felt anything like this before. I cup them, appreciating the way they now fill my hands, lost in the remarkable feeling it gives me. They must be impossibly firm to stand out so proudly without a bra, yet they feel so wonderfully soft beneath my fingers.

Getting more and more turned on by myself, I start to massage myself, letting wave after wave of sheer pleasure rip through my brain. My finger tips press harder and harder into the sides of my chest, the wonderful flesh dimpling beneath my touch. Not quite completely lost in the feelings I'm creating, I find myself thinking that my breasts must be soft if my fingers can dig so deeply into them. Hungry for more of the fabulous sensations, I start to rub my big nipples through my tight top. I feel them respond in the usual way and see them pushing out the black material as they swell with my arousal.

I gasp as I look down and see how big the points of my breasts have become. The sight, to my pleasant surprise, turns me on even more, and I start pinching them between my thumbs and forefingers. There's much less yield here than there was with my breasts themselves. I hear myself moan as I grip my wonderful, swollen nipples more and more tightly. Now I'm rolling them between my fingers, squeezing them, creating the most incredibly lovely feeling I've ever known. I put more and more pressure on them until it almost hurts. Almost.

Hard. That's what I'm thinking. My nipples are hard now. Really hard - I'm squeezing them like crazy, but they're not giving to my fingers like rest of my chest did. My eyes are almost shut as I concentrate on just enjoying the way it feels. What an incredible body I now have. Such fantastic tits that feel so terrific! Fingers and toes that can effortlessly rip through steel... it's just... just... No, I can't find the words. Fucking brilliant - that will have to do.

I force my eyes open to look at the big steel door once again. It's just so incredible to see the damage I caused with the same hands that are now massaging my nipples. In fact, now I think about it, I tore into that metal using far less force than I'm now using to pleasure myself. Far, far less force. I let my hands drift from the tingling points of my chest and cup my large breasts once again, gripping the wonderful flesh tightly through the thin fabric of my sleeveless T-shirt. I squeeze hard and it feels good.

I can feel, and see, my fingers indenting the two mounds, perhaps pressing as much as half-an-inch into the sides of my chest. But I really am putting a lot into it. I mean, I sunk my finger two inches into the solid steel much more easily than I can sink it half-an-inch into my breast! But, in that case... Oh my god! I've just realised what that means... My chest, which feels so lovely and soft to me - softer than any other part of this incredible body I've been given - must actually be harder than the door. Fuck! Can that be possible? Can my tits be harder than solid metal?

I can feel myself getting turned on just thinking about it. I mean, the idea that this fantastic chest - straight out of a adolescent's wet dream - which feels so good to touch and to fondle, this chest that the two screws couldn't stop staring at, is actually mind-blowingly, impossibly firm... I look down at its sexy, rounded perfection. Wow! These two amazing breasts might actually be tougher, harder, stronger even, than steel itself!

The thought is just too amazing to leave as just a thought. I've got to find out if my theory is right. I raise my hands behind my head and lock my fingers together. Arching my back slightly so that my chest sticks out from my slim body even more than normal, I eagerly step towards the door. My mind is racing with a million thoughts as I slowly lean towards the huge metal slab. The mere idea of what I'm about to try is freaking me out. I'm trying to take my time, but the anticipation is killing me! I just can't wait any longer.

Mmmm... It feels good as my still erect nipples touch the hard surface through my top. I lean in a tiny bit more - like maybe a quarter of an inch, no more than that. I can see my two big breasts now starting to squash up ever so slightly against the door and the sensation is fantastic. Thinking of when I was squeezing myself a few moments ago, I remember how my chest yielded about half an inch to my fingers. Will it also yield half-an-inch to this huge chunk of steel? I lean forward a tiny bit more to find out.

Oh my god! There's that creaking, groaning sound again. My chest isn't yielding any more to the door. In fact it's the door that's yielding to my chest! Yes! I can see it now. This is totally, fucking awesome! The metal is bending - deforming even - around the incredible curves of my breasts. It's true! They really are stronger than steel! I'm just leaning into the door, not putting any real effort into it, but the result is amazing. I'm putting two large round craters in the surface of the metal - with my tits!

It's incredible. I'm looking down at the damage I'm causing just pressing my chest lightly against the door and I feel like... like a sex-goddess. I'm so fucking powerful. I'm getting more and more turned on by the thought of it. I can feel my nipples getting big and hard again. I hold my upper body still and feel the points of my breasts forcing their way into the metal by themselves, stretching the material of my T-shirt and making large dimples at the centre of the two newest depressions. This is unbelievable!

I step back to admire my work. And there it is - a perfect impression of my perfect bust - permanently carved in solid steel. Each of my breasts has made a bowl-shaped, two-inch deep imprint in the door. And, most fantastic of all, there's a half-inch deep circular hole at the centre of each of the bowls. Just thinking how those holes were created by my nipples poking into the metal is blowing my mind! I bring my hands up to stroke those nipples through my shirt. They're beautifully large and remarkably firm beneath my fingers, but there's nothing in the way they feel that makes me think they can penetrate steel.

Reluctantly, I take my hands from my chest and rest them on my hips. Stepping forward once more, I lean my breasts into the door again, licking my lips as I see and feel the way they so effortlessly deform the metal. I hear that groaning sound again and I'm starting to get used to it. I know it's the noise of solid steel complaining as it's forced to bend around my fabulous "new" body. I close my eyes and press my chest deeper and deeper into the door, just getting off on the wonderful feeling of it and the idea of being so strong.

Fuck! What was that! A new sound - more of a scream than a groan, from somewhere to my left. Even as I open my eyes I can feel something is different. The lovely sensation of the "hard" steel against my chest is gone. The second my eyes pop open I see why. The door is no longer fully upright - it's actually bent at an angle so that the top of it is now about a foot away from my body and the bottom of it is almost touching my ankles. What happened? I glance to the side and see a jagged piece of metal hanging from the edge of the now crooked, huge slab. Wow! So that was the screech I heard - the sound of a heavy-duty hinge tearing in half.

Oh fuck! This just gets more and more awesome. I've partially torn the enormous, thick steel door from its fixings - without even using my hands or feet! A door that's supposed to survive sustained attacks from twenty rioting juveniles can't stand up to a bit of pressure from my tits! And I wasn't even trying. I could have pushed a hell of a lot harder! I'm so fucking strong! I wanted to see if I was powerful enough to force open the door using both my hands. Instead I've done it just by casually leaning against it. Amazing! Awesome! The more I think about it, the hornier I get.

The door's hanging at enough of an angle now for me to be able to squeeze past it, but I don't want to. I want to try out my fabulous strength. So I reach down and grab a hold of the edge of the slab with my left hand, just below the torn hinge. I grip tightly, and feel my fingers squashing the steel, creating a print of my hand. Now I'm going to give it a little tug. Just a careful, little... Fuck! I don't believe it! I've ripped the entire door free. The other hinge just came noisily apart as I gently pulled and now I'm supporting the entire weight of the huge steel chunk with my single hand! It doesn't even feel heavy!

I'm just raising and lowering my arm, the huge door moving up and down in my grasp and it's as easy as waving a piece of paper around. Oh my god! I'm so fucking strong! Every part of me - every little bit of this incredible body - is amazingly, impossibly powerful. It's like being a god! I glance down at my fabulous new shape. Fuck, I am a god. A gorgeous, strong god.

I let go of the door and it falls with an almighty clang, landing propped on its side, leaning against the empty frame. It's so heavy it puts a dent in the floor and in the frame where it hits and the whole building seems to shake. But it felt so light in my hand! I know that the noise must've woken the entire place up. For a second I panic, but all I have to do is look at all the damage I've made in the last two minutes and I feel calm.

I suddenly realise that I don't even have to pretend that I'm not responsible for the busted door. Or the two dead screws. I mean, what can they do to me? Put me in handcuffs? I'd rip them apart as easily as tearing a sheet of paper. Lock me up behind a big steel door? I'd just push off its hinges with my chest! It'd be so easy! How would they stop me? Unless they...

Oh, shit. I hadn't thought of that. That's how they'd stop me. With guns. Sure, the screws here don't have them, but if I keep throwing huge doors around - and killing guards (mustn't forget about that) - sooner or later they'll call someone who does. In fact, maybe they already have. I can hear footsteps - two sets, now three, now four, five... Loads of feet. Running. In this direction.

Fuck! Now the alarm's gone off too. It's a really annoying old-fashioned electric bell. It's so loud I can hardly think. I use the amazing control I have over my senses to tune out the ringing and concentrate on the approaching steps. It sounds like there's an entire crowd headed this way. What the fuck should I do now? Maybe I should just go back to the original plan of playing dumb and pretending I know nothing about all the shit that's happened tonight. I don't know how I'll explain about getting this fabulous body... I'll just have to think of something. And fast because, judging from the sounds, the fastest screws are not far away now.

I can hear the nearest set of feet getting really close. I look through the busted doorway at the long corridor on the other side. I know that the only exit is down that corridor, around the corner and down an old iron spiral staircase. Perhaps I should just make a break for it - try and get out before any of the guards get here. I could just smash through any locked doors in my way and get the fuck out of this place. Then maybe I could lay low for a while or try and get out the country or...

Too late! I can hear feet running up the iron steps. I can't get out unnoticed now. What am I going to do? Think, Lisa, think! Got to act now! But how? I could just start running and hope that whoever I bump into doesn't have a gun. If they don't I can just push them aside - the two screws who searched my room were easy enough to deal with. But what if someone here is armed? Fuck! I've got to make a decision!

More feet on the stairs now. The first set have reached the top and there's three or four more following close behind. Why couldn't I have acted more quickly? Now I'm fucked. They'll be here in seconds. I should've run when I had the chance. What am I going to say to them? Shit, how many are there? I can count seven, no eight or nine pairs of running feet. Maybe I'm not actually strong enough to deal with nine big screws. What am I going to do?

"Security breech! Security breech!" that's what the first guy's shouting as he turns the corner at the other end of the corridor. I'm a bit stunned. Suddenly, I don't feel so powerful anymore. "Stay where you are! Don't move!" he yells as he sees me and I don't move, mostly cos I'm so confused by the commotion. Another one appears and then a third and a fourth. The first guy is walking towards me now with the others behind him. The rest are still climbing the stairs but I know they'll all be in the corridor in a few seconds. Oh shit! What am I going to do?

"Don't move!" the nearest one shouts again, his face turning red with the strain of being heard above the bell. I glance from him to the small crowd moving down the corridor behind me. If any of them have guns, they certainly haven't pulled them out. They're all wearing the normal screws' uniform and I know that means they won't be armed. I'm still OK for now. It's not too late to make a break for it. He's already reaching for me. Now he's grabbed my right arm. I can hardly feel it, but I just know he's holding on as tight as he can.

I've just remembered how much I hate being touched by these fuckers. Even if it doesn't hurt any more it's still some screw's filthy hairy hand on me. The others move in, spreading out across the corridor. While I'm watching, one of them moves around the other side of me and grabs my other arm. The alarm's still ringing, but my incredible sense of hearing picks up this second guy's panting. He must be out of breath from running all the way here. He's sweating like a pig, too and he stinks of it.

The thought of his guy's slimy, smelly hand on me turns my stomach. I turn to look at his flushed face and see that his teeth are clenched. Oh my god! He's not puffing and sweating from the effort of running. He's trying for all he's worth to pull my hand behind my back. I haven't even noticed the pressure on my arm! The guard on the other side is struggling as well. His forehead's all red and shiny like his colleague's and he's obviously desperate to move my other wrist. I just didn't realise what they were doing.

They're trying to pin my hands behind me. They never even asked me what happened or anything. They just straight away grabbed me and tried to force my arms behind my back! The bastards! Now they're dripping their horrid, stinky sweat on me. The disgusting, aggressive fuckers! And the others are just standing there, watching like I'm some kind of circus act. In fact a couple of them are just staring at my chest. Fuck, they make me so sick. I can't take this any more!

I've got to get these two guys off my arms. Maybe I can shake myself free by wriggling my shoulders like... Ooops! I must've wriggled too much. I'm so strong! I barely even shrugged and they both flew like rockets straight up, one either side of me. Now all this horrid red stuff is raining down from the ceiling. Yuck! A big chunk of screw just landed on my bare shoulder. That's disgusting! I brush it off, but I'm covered in drops and smears of blood. I feel like puking.

I'm not the only one. A couple of the other guards are retching. The others are coming for me. A few of them are grabbing for their sticks. But I'm not scared any more. I'm just angry now. Angry that these bastards always react to everything by being aggressive. Angry that they always think they can subdue people with violence. Angry that they want to hurt me with their sticks. And angry cos they think I'm a helpless little girl that they can beat up and push around.

I grab the nearest one by the wrist just as he's about to smash his baton down on my head. The stick suddenly stops in mid-strike as I hold his arm dead still. It's so easy! I squeeze a little and hear the crunching sounds as probably every bone in his wrist turns to powder. He screams, so to shut him up I shove him with my free hand in the centre of his broad chest. Wow! It was just a gentle push, but it was enough to send him flying backwards with his feet off the ground. He hits another guy they both shoot off down the corridor.

There's a dull thud, then another. I'm confused because I thought the thuds were the two screws hitting the far wall but they're still moving. Another dull thud. Now the two airborne guards hit the wall and the sound is a much wetter kind of splat. They slide down in one heap leaving a huge red mark. Another dull thud. What's making that sound? It's hard to tell with all the confusion and the fucking alarm bell still ringing. There's screws everywhere, shouting, reaching for me, brandishing their sticks.

Thud! Thud! Where the fuck is that coming from? I swing my arms around in front of me, trying to move some of the guards. There's a scream and a big splash of sticky red hits my face. It's disgusting! Some of it's gone in my eye - it doesn't hurt or anything but it is hard to see. I can just make out one of the screws my arm must've hit - he's five feet away, exploding against the side of the corridor. I blink and my vision is clear again. Oh fuck, my right hand and fore-arm are covered with blood and... Yuck! Now I see why.

When I swung my arms, as well as sending one bastard smashing into the wall, I must've sliced another of them completely in half. His body - or anyway, the bit from the waist down - is at my feet. I can't see the rest of him anywhere. There's another guy on the ground at the far end of the corridor. I can't see his face, but there's blood by his head and he's just lying there, not moving. Fucking hell! All that from just a unthinking swing of my arms! I can't take it all in.

It's all happening too fast. I want to be able to stop and think but there's still guards running around me and that fucking alarm bell is still ringing. Plus that strange thudding noise every second or two is really starting to freak me out. I've got to find out what that is. I'll try concentrating on not hearing anything but that sound... Wow! I really have fantastic control over my senses now. It's working... The screams and the bell are in the background and the thud is really clear. It's coming from behind me... close behind me.

I turn round to see what's making the sound. I guess I must have brushed a screw with my arm as I turned. I didn't feel anything at the time, but as I spun I caught a glimpse of a guy shooting towards the ceiling and I definitely heard a noise like a kind of wet crunch a moment later. Then I'm facing towards where the strange thud seems to come from. I'm distracted for a second as I hear something soggy and sticky falling from the ceiling behind me. Now I look straight ahead.

All I see is the doorway I busted and a screw who must've got behind me without me noticing. I suppose my senses aren't quite perfect. Or maybe I haven't figured out how to use them yet... The screw's holding his baton thing with both hands, waving it over his head. Fuck! He's going to hit me with it! Too late to react....

That noise! The dull thud! That's all that happened when he hit me. I didn't feel a thing - I just heard that freaky sound... Exactly as I've heard it maybe thirty times already... So, this screw has hit me thirty times on the head with his stick and I've only heard a low thud each time! This is fucking cool! And he's going to do it again. He's drawing his arm back with the baton over his head... Something's going on behind me - I can hear people moving about and stuff, but I'm going to ignore it and just concentrate on the guy in front.

Here comes his stick now, crashing down towards my skull. It's hard not to wince from the blow but I know it's not going to hurt, so I do my best not to flinch and... Thud! That was it. I didn't feel a thing. How cool is that! I can see the look of total fury on the screw's face as he lifts his truncheon thing again - he must be hitting me as hard as he can with it. I feel so amazing - I mean, I should be dead by now, or at least in a coma, but I haven't even got a mild headache. It's just brilliant seeing someone trying to hurt me when I know that he can't!

This time as the stick comes down I know exactly what to expect so I don't even blink. I just stand there, staring at the screw. It's almost fun. I realise I'm smiling as I hear the familiar dull impact. He looks completely shocked - I guess that's because of my grin, so I keep on smiling while he hits me three more times. Thud! Thud! Thud! And I don't feel a thing. Awesome. But I hear more noises behind me and I know I should turn around and check out what's going on back there - as soon as I deal with stick-guy. I mean, how many times am I going to let him try and kill me? It's about time I taught the fucker a lesson.

I'm going to reach out and grab the baton mid-flight... That was easy! I hardly even noticed it smacking into my palm. Now... Shit! I must've gripped it too hard - the end of it just disintegrated to splinters in my hand. I try again. This time, I'm going to yank the remains of the stick out of his hand. Wow! And yuck! I got the stick and a piece of his hand. More blood everywhere. The guy's just screaming and screaming and screaming. "Shut up!" I say but he doesn't so I'll make him be quiet...

That wasn't hard. I just kicked him in the balls. I heard a crunch as my foot hit his crotch and he flew back like he was tied to a rocket or something. Now's he's sliding down the wall about ten yards away, leaving a huge red streak on the paint. The fucker deserved it for trying to smash my skull with his stupid stick. Still, it's pretty amazing to think that he hit me more than thirty times with a baton without even bruising me and I only kicked him once with my bare foot and he's dead. This new body and what it can do is fucking incredible!

What was that? I saw something out of the corner of my eye. An arm! Two of them! Someone's jumping on my back behind me. No, wait... They've already jumped. I just don't feel the weight. It's a screw, his elbows on my shoulders, legs around my thighs - and his hands around my neck, trying to strangle me I think. But I can hardly tell that he's putting any pressure on my throat. Hasn't this bastard seen what I've done to his friends? Can't he realise that I'm not getting hurt, that he's not stopping me breathing at all? What the fuck is wrong with these jerks?

I'm reaching up to pull his greasy fat hands off my neck. There's a crunch as I get my thumbs and forefingers on his wrists and he yells, right in my ear. That pisses me off, so I try pulling on his wrists to yank him over my head and off my back but instead there's this weird wet tearing sound and he just falls off. Except I'm still holding his wrists. Strange. I mean, I heard his body hit the ground behind me but his arms are in my grasp. Oh! Now I see. I've ripped his arms off at the shoulders! I'm holding two amputated arms. Disgusting! I drop them straight away and turn around.

There's the guard lying at my feet, his face showing total shock as he looks up at me. What a picture he is - on the floor in a pool of blood and with no arms. "That'll teach you, pig." I say as I give him a little poke in the ribs with my toes. After everything that's happened, I'm not surprised that my little punt is enough to lift his big body off the ground and hurl it the length of the corridor. He crashes down against the far wall and doesn't move.

From all the chaos of a moment or two ago, hardly anything at all is moving in front of me now. The alarm bell's still ringing but I've tuned out the sound so that it's only a very minor background thing in my mind. There's no more screaming, either. Just one last screw, slowly moving backwards away from me, tripping over the corpses of his mates, muttering something. I concentrate on hearing his words and the mumbling suddenly becomes crystal clear. "No... No... Please... No..."

Oh my god! He's terrified.... Terrified of me!

It's incredible. No-one has ever been terrified of me before. Pissed-off, frustrated, bored sure, but never terrified. It's like that dream I had where I was holding the match about to set fire to this place and everyone was begging me not to do it. Like that but much more - this is for real. And instead of holding a lighted match over a pool of petrol, I'm not doing anything other than standing here. I've just torn a load of men to pieces with nothing but my hands. And it was so easy! They tried to stop me, and they couldn't. I'm so fucking powerful. No wonder this guy is so scared.

He's still backing away - this big, tough guard whimpering and retreating from me. Me! A sixteen-year-old woman. I'm not frightened of him at all. I'm... I'm in charge. I'm the one with all the power here. It's freaky. It's unbelievable. It's... it's everything I ever wanted. I mean, I feel so... sexy. Yeah, that's it. This screw is shitting himself, trying to creep away from me cos of what I can do and cos he knows he can't stop me and it makes me feel amazing and sexy. Really sexy. Cos I'm the one making the rules now.

I start walking towards him, mostly to see how he reacts. It's brilliant! His eyes bulge. I can hear him breathing faster and faster, see the sweat pour down his face. He turns around - maybe to start running - and slips in a puddle of blood. While he tries to get up I keep walking and I'm standing next to him as he gets up to his knees. This is fantastic! I'm looking down at him as he's crawling around at my feet. He's panicking and I'm feeling amazing. I fucking love this! I mean how long have I dreamed of getting revenge on the screws in this place? Of showing them how it feels to be helpless?

He looks up at me, like a drowning puppy and says "Please don't kill me." He's begging me! I can't help it, I start to laugh. It's just so fantastic to be in this position. "Please" he sobs. I realise just what it means to be so much in control.

"Kiss my feet, screw" I say, cos I know he's going to do it - and he does! I can't really feels his horrible cracked thin lips on my skin, but I know he's pressing them to my foot because I told him to. "And the other one," I order, and of course he kisses my other foot too. It's incredible to see it happening. And knowing that he's got no choice cos I'm so much stronger than him just makes me horny. I see his face right against my foot and think how easy it would be to kill him with just a little flick of my ankle. Then I think: why not? He's a fucking screw after all. One more's not going to make any difference.

So... I do it. I just lift my toes a little, they hit his forehead and his whole fucking body flips up in the air for a moment before he crashes down on his back, a great big red hole in his head, just above his eyes. I don't have to check for breathing or anything - I know straight away he's dead. I've just killed him with a tiny movement of my toes. My lovely, perfect, covered-in-blood toes. That's how powerful I am. I feel awesome!

I look around. I don't remember how many of the bastards came rushing up the stairs after I smashed down the door, but there's dead guys and bits of bodies everywhere. All over the place I can see big puddles and splashes of blood and I know without looking that there's plenty on me, too. I should feel sick, I guess, but I don't. Maybe that's cos the fuckers got what was coming to them, or maybe it's cos nothing feels real to me now. Whatever the reason, I've killed more than half-a-dozen men and I don't even feel bad about it. In fact, thinking about how easy it was, I feel pretty fucking cool.

It's weird how calm everything now is in the corridor. Only that fucking alarm which I've forced to the back of my mind; there's no more shouting or screaming, no more screws running around. Just me. I'm covered with splashes of blood and maybe - I don't really want to check - a few bits of body, but none of it's mine. I haven't even chipped a fingernail doing all this damage. A load of guards with their sticks and everything weren't able to cause me so much as a tiny bruise as I tore them apart with my hands. Maybe I can't be hurt at all...

That gets me thinking about guns. I mean, sure I didn't feel anything when that guy was whacking me on the head over and over again with his stick, but would it have been the same if he'd had a pistol or a rifle? I'm not sure I want to find out... But, if I stand here, waiting for more guards to arrive so I can rip them to pieces, sooner or later someone's going to bring some kind of gun to my party. I don't think I want to let those fuckers use me for target practice. Not until I can find a way of checking if I'm bullet-proof first.

So, I've got to get out of here before that alarm brings the reinforcements in. Maybe it'll be more screws with their sticks, but it won't be for long. As soon as they see the mess they'll call for armed police. Or maybe even the fucking army! No, I've got to move, got to get out of this fucking shit-hole - and fast. The only way out is past the bodies of all these guys I've killed and down the same staircase they came from, so that's where I'll go.

Yuck! I think I trod in someone. I won't look, I'll just keep staring straight ahead. Round the corner... That's it... There's the stairs. No-one's about. I pause for a moment and try and tune my ears to the sound of movement, but I can't hear anything. I'd better go while I can. Down the stairs, nice and quiet, then... Then? Fuck! I don't know. I don't know how to get out of this place!

There's another big, steel door at the foot of the stairs. For a second, I pause, worried that it'll be locked and then I almost laugh. A locked door's no problem for me now! The only thing is I'll have to make quite a bit of noise busting it down. And I don't know what - or rather who - is on the other side. But I've got no choice. It's either get past that door or stick around with the corpses upstairs, waiting for someone to turn up.

If I go through the door, I might be able to find my way out of this fucking detention centre. I can find somewhere to lay low for a while, maybe slip out of the country. It's my only chance of freedom. And I've got to take that chance. So I walk up to the door, placing my palms flat on the cool metal. Here goes!


Conceptfan, Feb. 2004.

The story so far...

Lisa Reed is a juvenile delinquent sentenced to a spell in borstal for arson. Her attitude problems have brought her to the attention of extraterrestrial conspirators seeking to interfere with Earth's development. They've chosen her as the recipient of a mysterious transformation.

Amongst other changes, the aliens have made Lisa stunningly beautiful and given her fantastically powerful senses. Also, she can't be hurt - even when a guard smacks her repeatedly over the head with his baton. In addition to that she's become strong. Amazingly strong. Strong enough to destroy a huge steel door with her body and tear apart half a dozen men with her bare hands.

Now she's on the run still trapped inside the young offenders' institution. She's made her way downstairs where she's confronted by another huge locked metal door. Getting past the door is her only way out, but she doesn't know what she will find on the other side...



This door is just like the one upstairs. That was so cool, using my fingers and toes to scoop chunks out of the metal then carving out a groove with my tongue and making an imprint with my "new" big round tits! I could do that again here... No! There's no time. I've killed a load of screws. I can't hang around waiting for more to turn up with guns and shoot me. I've got to get out and find somewhere to lie low for a while. I'll just give this door a little shove...

It's so awesome being this strong! The way the hinges screamed like an animal, the way the whole huge door bent beneath my lovely hands and flew out of its frame crashing into the far wall of the room behind, smashing the plaster, making that huge cloud of dust - I feel so powerful. That door's supposed to be almost indestructible, but I've totally destroyed it as easily as anything. I love this! This fucking prison can't hold me any more!

But... where do I go now? There's just this short corridor with only the one door at the end. It's another big one, but I've smashed up two of them already so this one shouldn't be any problem.

Fuck! Another of those annoying alarms is going off. I'll tune out the sound. That's better. Now I can hear voices. They're coming from the other side of the door. There's a few guys back there... One of them's saying something about not being able to contact the "team" upstairs.... Somehow I don't think those guys are going to be doing much contacting!

Oh, now they're saying that they think there's an inmate on the loose in here. No shit! And what's this? They believe the escapee is on this floor. They're organising some kind of search. No-one's mentioned anything about any guns but maybe I shouldn't just stand here waiting to find out. It might be better to catch them by surprise before they're ready.

What's that? It sounded like a lock being pulled. They're opening the door! I've got to act now... Come on, Lisa... Oh God! What if they shoot at me? Another lock has been drawn.... Fuck it! I've got nothing to loose. I'll just run at the door.

Wow! What a clang as my chest smacked into the steel! And what a sight as the huge slab of metal just gave way to me! Plus, running really helped. My feet pushed the loose door down so now I'm standing on it. It feels a bit unsteady down there... Oh now I see why. There must be a screw trapped underneath. Maybe two or three screws, judging by the amount of blood that's squirting out from under the metal slab...

No time for looking down, though. There's a load more of the bastards that were far enough away from the door to still be standing. But I can't see any guns - just sticks. I was right to charge the door. Here they come now with their stupid batons. Do I let them hit me for a while or just get rid of them? Fuck it! I can't be bothered with games. I'll just push them away one by one as I walk through.

It's so easy! I just wave my hand and one bastard goes splat on the wall. An effortless flick of my wrist sees off another. Then, a tiny movement of my elbow sorts out a third. I don't have to slow down or speed up or anything. I'm strolling down the corridor, swatting these big guys like they're huge, slow flies. One of them's actually managed to hit me with his stick. Didn't even tickle me, but I bet he felt it - for a moment - when I grabbed his neck. It certainly made a nice crunching sound as I disinterestedly squeezed...

Now there's only one left. What the hell is he doing? He's dropped his stick and he's raising his arms into the air like... Ah! Now I get it. He's surrendering! Like in some fucking war film! As if I was a victorious army or something... Then again, I am a sort of one-girl army. I've certainly taken care of a squadron of screws!

I feel so wonderful as I walk up to the guy. He's sweating and shaking and the idea that I've caused that makes me feel awesome. I feel so powerful. And no wonder! I have all the power. I can decide whether or not this guy gets to live and there's not a fucking thing that he can do about it. As I get close he whimpers: "Please don't hurt me..." And it makes me laugh. I mean to see this great, tough screw in his uniform pleading with me, a sixteen year old girl who's supposed to be his prisoner... Well, how cool is that!

I just wish I had the time to play around with the guy for a while. I'd probably have a lot of fun with the bastard, but what if the riot squad get here with their guns and stuff in the meantime? What's the point in getting all this power - enough to bust out of this shit-hole - only to get shot because I decide to stop and piss about. No, I've got to get out of here and find somewhere to keep my head down while I work out what the hell I'm going to do next.

So instead of enjoying myself properly, I just lift my bare knee casually into the screw's crotch and everything in there goes crunch and he's thrown backwards, off his feet. The back of his head hits the wall near the ceiling and he slides down leaving a thick red line on the paintwork. Now, the corridor's empty of everything except me and a load of dead bastards. I'm going through the next door.

Wait! What's that? A voice over a loudspeaker. Did that voice just say "Stop where you are!"? Who the fuck do they think they're talking to? Where's it coming from? Ah, up there. There's the loudspeaker, next to that CCTV camera... I can't believe it! They've been spying on me! And now they're giving orders! The fucking bastards! Haven't they seen how powerful I am now?

I give the finger to the camera, but that doesn't come close to cooling my rage. My foot touches something and, looking down I spot a discarded guard's stick. Well, its owner won't be needing it anymore. Before I even think about what I'm doing, I've picked it up and hurled it at the camera. Shit, I'm so fucking strong! Not only did I smash both the camera and the loudspeaker into a million pieces each, but the stick's actually embedded into the brick wall now, about ten foot above the floor, right near that tiny window...

Window! I hadn't noticed that before, what with six guards trying to kill me and all that. It's too high up to see what's on the other side. All I notice is the glow of orange street lamps shining through.... Street lamps! Then this must be an exterior wall! I'm only a few feet away from being outside... A couple of paces away from freedom. Here I am, happy to keep on busting through door after door, making mince meat out of more and more screws, praying that I don't bump into someone with a gun when I'm actually incredibly close to getting out of here!

Surely, if I can get through those huge steel doors without breaking a fingernail, then I ought to be able to handle a brick wall... I've got to try. I mean, what's the alternative? Bust up that door and anybody waiting on the other side and then see if I can see any signs for the exit? I'd rather find out if this new body is really as strong and as hard as I think it is. I'll just take a couple of steps back, close my eyes and run. Here goes!

What a noise! Like a building exploding or something. But it felt like jumping through a giant sheet of paper. I can hear stuff falling all around. I think those taps are bits of brick falling on me. There was one bouncing off my head onto the top of my amazing chest and rolling off to the ground. Felt like a ball of feathers!   I've got to open my eyes...

YES! I've done it! I've gone through that thick solid institute wall and there's not a scratch anywhere on me. Just tons of plaster and bits of brick, but underneath that nothing but perfect skin. Wow! Look at the size of that fucking hole I made! It's like a bomb's gone off. What a totally brilliant way to bust out of this dump! There's no steel door, and no prison wall that can stand up to my fabulous body now! I feel so awesomely powerful. I love this!

But... Wait! I'm not out yet. I'm just in some kind of concrete yard. There's another wall about twenty yards in front and... Wow! It's high. Maybe twenty-five foot and with a ton of barbed wire up there. That must be the perimeter wall of this place. Yeah, that's got to be it. I can hear traffic passing on the other side. Well, this wall can't be any tougher than the one I've just waltzed through, so I'll just...

No! What if there's police on the other side? And even if there aren't, if I explode through into all those cars and stuff then there'll be an armed response unit along in minutes. I can't take that chance. Not when I'm this close to freedom. I've got to try and be subtler... Got to go over the wall. But, there's nothing to climb, and nothing lying around in the yard that I can use. How am I going to jump that wall?

Now there's a thought. Jump.... Jump.... Could I? I mean if I used to be able to jump two or three feet and now I'm how many times stronger? A hundred? A thousand? More? Strong enough to jump a twenty-foot wall? I'd be stupid not to try.. All I've got to do is bend my knees and then spring up and forwards as hard as I can and..

Fuck! Shit! I don't believe it! I think I'm flying! I just keep going up and up and up and... This is fucking amazing! Wow - there's the top of the wall beneath my feet. I guess I answered that question. But I'm still rising. I can see four or five streets in each direction below me and hundreds of roofs! How high up am I? Maybe fifty feet or could be more... This is so cool!

Hang on a moment... I'm slowing. No, I'm coming to a stop... Oh fuck! I'm starting to come down. Oh shit! I can't stop it. I wasn't flying - it was just my leap and now I'm on the way down. I'm falling towards the far side of that street... Yes, I'm definitely heading for that pavement... Feet first! What do I do? I can't survive a fall from that height! Or can I? I fucking hope I can! But what do I do? Got to brace myself, bend my knees when I hit and hope for the best... Any second...

Oh? Was that it? I hardly felt anything, but... Yes! Yes! I'm standing on solid ground! Well, almost solid. The concrete's all cracked beneath my bare feet. Guess I must've done that but, oh my god, that was as easy as anything I've ever done! I hardly even had to bend my knees to absorb the impact. I've just leapt fifty feet into the air, sailing over a huge wall and a load of two- and three-storey houses to land unharmed and comfortable two streets away! From a standing jump! Is there anything I can't do now?

I look down at my feet and the shattered paving beneath them. I can hardly believe the power in my transformed body. I've got to raise my big toe and bring it down on the concrete, grinding a small area to dust, just to convince myself that I really am that strong. Cool! I should do that again, just for effect.... No, not now. The distant sound of sirens brings me back to the urgency of getting out of the area.

I start running, not really paying much attention to where I'm going. I'm just looking for a quiet side-street. I find one pretty soon and head done it. The further I get from that shit-hole institution, the better. I'm totally lost now, just going down any road that looks deserted or badly lit, keeping away from the busier main streets. I keep running and running, because I don't feel like I'm getting tired at all, even though I'm going fast. Almost car-speed. Like maybe twenty miles an hour. And I know I could go a lot faster if I wanted to.

I'm definitely not out of breath - in fact I feel the same physically as I did immediately after the weird green light did its thing back in my room. In other words, I feel terrific. So I keep on going, weaving through the residential streets, staying out of the lights as much as I can, trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do now.

I mean, I've busted out OK, but with all those dead screws, every copper in the country will be looking for me and thanks to that fucking CCTV camera, they'll all have a good description of me. Not that my new appearance helps me blend into the crowds. I must be the sexiest-looking girl in the world, as well as the strongest and the hardest... The only problem is: what do I do with it? Where do I go? What's the point of it all if I just get myself shot? I've got to find somewhere quiet where I can do some thinking.

If I wait 'till I get tired to stop running, I might be going all night. And maybe all of tomorrow too. No, I've got to stop soon and just try and work out what the fuck my next move should be. That street over there looks really quiet. I'll turn the corner and head down it. Not a soul moving… And, what's that at the end of the street. I'll use my amazing control over my senses to "zoom in" on it and…

A row of garages! No-one's going to be going there in the middle of the night. And they're well back from this deserted street - as good a place as any to hide for a while. At least until I sort myself out. Nearly there… OK. But they're all locked. Most of them with big, solid-looking padlocks. Shame none of them are open because inside one of those garages would be a great place to hide…

What am I thinking? How's a little padlock going to stop me, the girl who's just smashed up three huge slabs of steel and a brick wall? I suppose it's going to take me some time to get used to being so strong. I keep forgetting what having this power means. All the things that used to be impossible are suddenly all easy to me! Like getting into a padlocked garage. I just pinch the lock between my thumb and forefinger. There's a low groan from the metal as it squishes like play-dough before my thumb and finger meet and the broken lock just falls to the ground.

I love having all this strength! Now I've dealt with the lock I lift the shutter very carefully, using only one finger in case I make too much noise. I don't even feel the weight that I would have struggled with two-handed only a few hours ago! I'm just as quiet closing the door behind me once I'm inside and for the first time in a while, I feel secure.

I'm looking around at the stuff in the garage and I have to remind myself that it's pitch black in here with the door closed! My suped-up eyes just automatically made the adjustment to cope and everything looks as clear as day to me. I can see every detail of the whitewashed walls - the stack of shoe-boxes over against the far wall and the five large sports bags next to them. I have to make an effort to tune out the smell of damp, but that's not hard to do.

I don't know why - curiosity I guess - but I decide to take a look inside one of the shoe-boxes. Don't know what I'm expecting to find, either (shoes, possibly?) But when I pick up the box it doesn't feel like shoes so I pull open the lid. Fucking hell! It's full of cash! Tons and tons of cash! I've never seen so much money in my life. There must be thousands in here all in tatty used notes - tens, twenties and fifties. I've got to check the other boxes…

Wow! They're all full of money. There must be a fortune stashed in here. Whose garage have I chosen as a hiding place? And what the hell's in those sports bags? I'm on my knees unzipping one before I can think. Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! I've got to get out of here before the owner of all this comes back. There must be enough cocaine or heroin or whatever it is in those packets in that bag to supply a city! I'll just grab some of that cash and go.

That looks like a nice bundle. How much is there here? One hundred… two…. three… four… five…. What was that? Sounded like a car! Fuck, it is a car! And it's pulling in to the garages… I'd better wait for it to go….

Oh no! It's stopped. The door's opened and there's footsteps headed this way.. I can hear change clanging against something - maybe a big metal cigarette lighter - in a jacket pocket and a heartbeat. And I can smell expensive aftershave... It's not the police, that's for sure. Whoever it is, he's just outside. I can hear him breathing as clearly as if he were next to me. He's gasping at something. He just said "What the fuck?" He must've seen the broken lock. Fuck! Some hiding place this is! And now what's he doing?

He's opening the door. Too late to run and no-where to hide in here. I'll just have to rush him like all those screws. The guy will never know what hit him. What's that glinting in his hand… looks like… Oh no! Oh fuck no!! No!! He's got a gun! Whose fucking garage is this? Al fucking Capone's? Think, Lisa! Think! Oh, shit I'm terrified! He's seen me! Oh fuck! Fuck!

Oh my god, I'm dead! I must be. There was the bang and immediately a clang and I felt something hit my forehead. No pain, just a little tap like a drop of water. That must've been the last thing before I died. I can't believe that guy just fired his gun before even challenging me. And now he's killed me!! I'll open my eyes and see… well, hell I guess. Oh fuck, oh fuck!

Wait a moment…. This isn't hell. It's the garage. And I'm standing here just like before. And the bastard with the gun is standing in the doorway and… And I'm not dead! I'm alive!! That clang must have been the sound of the bullet hitting my head, but it didn't even hurt! I survived being shot! I'm fucking bullet-proof! That's the only explanation. At least I think that -

YES! YES! Oh that confirms it! This is the most amazing thing yet! He fired again and this time I saw the bullet bounce off my nose to the side!! It felt like a little tap but it sounded like a ricochet in a Western! And I saw it! Saw the flash from the gun, saw the bit off metal pinging away from my face! The guy's shot me twin the head and I'm not even scratched! I feel like some kind of god!

Another one! It's hit me right on my lovely big left tit! And there's the bullet, lying at my feet. It hardly made a noise as it struck me - I don't know if that because my chest is a bit "softer" than my head or because of my ultra-tight new T-shirt - but it felt like… like being hit by a moth! It didn't even tickle! And there isn't even a mark on my top where the bullet hit.

I can't get my head 'round it! Guns don't hurt me! This is just brilliant! Knowing that bullets bounce off my beautiful round breast makes me feel even more powerful than before. I'm remembering the weird alien voice telling me I'd never feel pain again. I never dreamed that it could mean this! That every part of me - even my fucking tits - is harder and stronger than steel. And bullet-proof!

Now I want to go back to the institution and kill every single screw in there knowing that even if they have got guns there'd be nothing they could do to stop me! I don't even need to be afraid of the police. And I certainly don't need to worry about some two-bit wannabe gangster with a handgun….

I look up at the bastard, slowly, trying to catch his eye. I've gone from terrified to excitedly happy in the time it's taken him to fire his weapon three times. And in the same period, he's turned from angry executioner to a scared, pathetic fool. I love seeing the way he's shaking, the gun moving about crazily in his hands. I just feel so in charge of the situation, it makes me smile.

I guess the smile was what made him fire off another shot. The bastard's obviously determined to kill me. This one pings loudly off my neck. To me it's like being brushed with an ostrich feather, but that's not the point. This guy hasn't even asked me my name, or told me to put my hands up or anything. He's just trying to waste me. Just like the screws in the institution he doesn't want to know my side of the story, he just wants to dish out his punishment.

After taking four shots without getting a bruise, I've got nothing to fear. I'm walking towards him now and I'm beginning to think about what I'm going to do to the bastard. There's another bang and the loudest metallic clang yet because the bullet actually rebounded off my teeth! But I know without even checking it hasn't even chipped the enamel.

I just keep walking towards the guy, staring at him, watching him become more and more nervous, seeing him sweat and tremble, hearing his heart-rate increase, enjoying the way I'm making him suffer for trying to kill me. Another bang, but the only impact I'm aware of is somewhere on the wall behind me. He's so fucking scared of me now that he's missed me from a distance of a couple of yards!

He's still going to try again. But this time, the gun just goes click. And then click! again. I've almost reached him. Click! once more. He's run out of bullets! Ha! His gun was no match for me. He's just rooted to the spot, trembling, holding his useless gun. I feel so fucking powerful right now I want to scream!

I grab him by the throat with my right hand. "You bastard." I hiss. I'm going to tell him that he belongs to me now, except that I can't, because that crunch was the sound of me squeezing too hard. His eyes are bulging horribly and now a trickle of blood is coming out the corner of his mouth so without thinking I just use that single hand to toss him over my shoulder.

The sight of a big man flying like a kid's doll through the air because of my casual flick is awesome. It's just all too much! I mean to be so strong, to throw men around like confetti, to bust big steel doors like wet cardboard boxes! And on top of that to be bullet-proof, to see shots bouncing off my lovely body! I can do almost anything now. It's blowing my mind. I've got to sit down for a moment and take it all in.




It's no good. It's just too much to take in. I'm super-strong, super-hard, bullet-proof and I've got super senses. Not only that but I look like any man's wet dream. I can do almost anything I want to and I don't think anyone cae can stop me. No-one can push me around anymore. No-one can ignore me or treat me like shit or force me to do things that I don't want to do. And if I can find the people who did all those things to me in the past, I can finally give them what they deserve.

People like the dealer whose garage I'm in. He thought he could just shoot me without even finding out why I'm here. But whose dead now? Me or him? And I didn't even have a gun. He won't be trying to kill me again and I… I've got his money now. Hmmm... Just how much is there in here, anyway?

There's tons, but where am I going to put it all? I mean, I've got no pockets or anything, thanks to whoever or whatever was responsible for changing my body and replacing my clothes. Maybe I can stuff some down my…

Is that a siren? No, it's two sirens. Both heading this way from different directions. Of course! Someone must've heard the gunfire earlier and called the police. I suppose I don't really need to worry about them anymore. Fuck it! I'll take my time, grab as much of this cash as I can carry, and leave when I'm good and ready. I'll get two big fistfuls of notes - one… two. OK. That'll do.

It feels great walking out of the garage knowing I don't really have to be afraid of anything anymore. I walk out away from the garages onto the street again, not bothering to run anymore even though I can hear the sirens just around the corner.

Now I can see the first police car tearing down the road towards me and I don't even feel a little nervous. It's no shock to see the car screech to a halt right across the pavement in front of me. I just stand there as the copper on the passenger side gets out and runs towards me. He's reaching out to grab me, but I'm not in the mood for games so I say "Oh, just fuck off." and then I give him a shove on the shoulder with my left hand, being careful not to drop the bundle of bank notes I'm holding.

I just love watching him flying across the street onto the low, sloping roof of a house on the other side, knowing that I could have thrown him ten times harder without too much effort. Being this strong is just absolutely fantastic! I watch with my remarkable super eyes as the policemen rolls off the roof fifty feet away and crashes with a dull thud onto the ground. I can see he won't be getting up so I turn to his mate who's still behind the wheel of the car.

The guy in there must've seen what I did with his pal, because he's already put the car into reverse. I guess he's trying to get away from me, which makes me feel incredibly powerful all over again. And that makes me want to show off. I take a step towards the car, because I want to grab it before he picks up any speed. I want to see if I'm strong enough to hold a car still, even when the engine's being gunned.

Aw, fuck! I didn't count on that. I managed to get hold of the front bumper, but it just ripped off the car. Now I'm holding just a big useless strip of fibreglass and the rest of the vehicle is accelerating out of my reach. And, shit! Even more frustrating, I must've let go of some of the money trying to grab the car. There's loose notes everywhere on the ground. Shit!

My anger gets the better of me and without thinking I hurl the detached bumper at the guy reversing the car away from me. I must've thrown it pretty hard too, because there's nothing left of the windscreen or his head from what I can see. I guess his foot is jammed on the accelerator as the car continues to go backwards until the back of it smashes into a tree on the other side of the road and the collision either knocks the pedal free or knackers the engine. Whatever. The car goes quiet.

But there's still sirens in the distance and, more urgent, the noise of another engine behind me. I turn around and see a second police car stopping about ten yards away. This time, both the men inside get out and run towards me. "Can't you just leave me alone?" I say, but they continue running so I just wait until they're close enough and use my two hands to try and bang their heads together, hoping to knock some sense into them.

Yuck! I didn't knock much into their heads, but plenty has come out. That's disgusting! And I didn't even hit them hard. I have to use some of my cash to wipe my face and neck. These coppers are beginning to cost me a fortune. I bend down to pick up some of the clean notes I dropped earlier. I've hardly managed to collect four twenties when another squad car turns into the road about a hundred yards in front of me. I don't need to turn around to know there's at least two more coming from behind as well. Haven't those bastards had enough already?

I'm getting really fed up with them. I'm losing my cash and my patience. I'm just not going to take any more of this crap. I'm going to show them once and for all why they're better off leaving me alone now that I'm "changed". But do I go for the ones in front or behind first? Got to make a choice so I'll go for the one I'm facing. I start running and drop another load of cash. I scream "You fuckers made me lose my money!" and just charge at the on-rushing car.

I'm sprinting towards it now, and I'm going to tear that fucking cop-mobile into little ribbons. It's heading right towards me so it won't be long until... Shit! This is pretty dangerous. I mean, yeah I'm mega-strong and bullets bounce off me, but maybe a collision with a speeding car is different from taking a bullet... Maybe I should get out of the way?

Oh, fuck that! This is a game of chicken and I'm not about to lose to a couple of fucking coppers. Not when there's a bunch of their pals watching in the cars behind me. And… isn't that the sound of a helicopter coming this way? Why can't they all just fuck off? I'm so angry right now that I don't care if I get hurt as long as some of them get wasted. I'm not moving out of that car's path. I'm running right up to those bastards and at the last second, just before they hit me, I'm going to kick the front as hard as I can. Like this...

Wow! That's awesome! Look at that car flying through the air, spinning end over end - simply because I smacked my lovely bare foot into it from underneath! And I didn't feel a thing… Well, maybe a light tap when I hit the speeding car, but the noise it made was amazing… a huge metal clang. How strong am I that I can launch that fucker into the air with a kick? It still hasn't come down!

Now it's about to come to ground… Oh! It's completely exploded! What a fireball… Wow…. And I did that! I'm so fucking powerful! I'm just staring at the devastation I've made. It's fantastic! I hope whoever's in that helicopter saw it. That'll teach those bastards to get in my way…

What was that? A sharp bang behind me… Hey, did someone just tap me on the shoulder? There's another bang! I'm whirling around to look and... Oh! Another tap, this time on my ribs. Who's doing that? I look, but there's no-one there…. The nearest things are those two police cars parked sideways across the street but they're empty… No, wait. There's something poking up from behind one of the cars. Something's moving back there…

A flash and another bang! And immediately something touches my forehead. It felt like an insect flying into my face, but the metallic ring of the impact tells me it was a bullet. There must be a bunch of coppers crouched behind those two cars, firing rifles or something at me. They still haven't realised who they're dealing with. What's it going to take to get the message through to these bastards?

Another shot hits me. It must've bounced off the top of my left tit before hitting my chin. Felt kind of nice, actually, but I'm not going to let anyone know that. The helicopter sounds as if it's much closer now. Wow… I can see it! It's still distant and the sky is still pitch black, but I can easily spot it. I see the word "POLICE" painted on the side. I can even see the faces of the two guys inside. One of them looks quite cute and the other…

Oh for fuck's sake! Are those bastards behind those cars going to stop shooting me? I can't even take five seconds to look at a couple of tasty men without being distracted by bullets constantly tapping on my front. Enough is enough! I'm striding towards the two cars now, shots pinging noisily off all parts of my body - my head, my big chest, my arms, my flat belly, my thighs. None of them actually hurt. But they all annoy the shit out of me.

I shout something like "I'm getting really pissed off with you jerks" but they don't take the hint and they just keep on firing. So I keep on walking, staring at them with my angry face until I'm about five yards from the cars and a couple of bullets bounce off my tits and smash the side windows. Finally, they stop shooting, but as far as I'm concerned, it's far, far too late for them. I'm right by the two cars now, and besides, I've got a great idea…

I've just got to get myself between the two cars… Hmm… I've got to put my money somewhere safe, like… there, stuffed into the waistband of my tiny shorts. Now, I crouch down and grab the underside of a different cop-mobile with each hand. It's so cool the way I can hear the metal groaning and feel it bending in my grasp. I'm just so strong!

I straighten my legs slowly, lifting the sides of each vehicle and it's just fantastic the way it's so easy to do. They feel as light as pancakes to me! I keep raising my hands until with a gentle little shove I can roll the two cars over onto their sides, on top of the cowering coppers. I hear screams, smashing glass then some crunching sounds as the two machines come to rest. There's already a couple puddles of blood seeping out from underneath them. Serves the bastards right for shooting at me.

Now it's all quiet except for the noise of the helicopter overhead. I look up and see it's just sort of hovering there, like the guys inside aren't sure what to do. I've got a suggestion for them. I shout "Fuck off!" at them, but they just stay where they are. Why can't any of these arseholes take a hint? "I said fuck off!" I yell, but still the chopper just hovers above me. What the hell is wrong with them?

"For the last time, bugger off!" I shout. They're not moving, the bastards. I'm furious now and without thinking what I'm doing, I reach over one of the rolled-over cars in front of me and grab a door handle. A moment later, easier than tearing a page out of a phonebook, I've ripped the door off its hinges and I'm holding it in my right hand. "You asked for this!" I yell.

Fuck! Wow! Wow! Wow! All I did was toss the car door upwards as hard as I could at the underneath of the helicopter! I thought I might miss, but that was awesome!! The entire thing just turned into a huge, orange ball of flame in the sky, lighting up the entire street!! I did that with just one hand! I'm so amazing! Chunks are falling all around now… it's like it's raining fire… and lumps of metal…

Something big and flaming is coming down right above me… No time to move… Wow! It felt like real rain as it hit my head. I think it was a big piece of burning metal. It must have broken in two when it struck my skull. There's fire all around my feet. It feels warm, like a summer day, but not burning like fire should… It's incredible… I'm just standing here, watching flames running up my body and they're not even singeing my clothes!

Hey - I've just realised something. My clothes - what there is of them - must be as invulnerable as I seem to be. I mean I got shot through my ridiculously tight t-shirt and there's no marks on it and the fire is burning around my tiny shorts and they don't seem to be affected either. They might not be my ideal choice - although I have to admit they don't do my amazing figure any harm. And they do seem to be protecting my modesty. It's bad enough that men now can't seem to help staring at the shape of my chest - if they could see my actual tits they'd probably shoot their loads as soon as they laid eyes on me!

It's really is mind-blowing, listening to distant sirens as I stand here just watching the flames covering the lower half of my body, not feeling any discomfort. My pretty bare feet handling hundreds of degrees of heat without even tingling. My perfect legs, completely untouched by the mini-inferno. My immaculate hands not even marked by the fire licking at them. Or my miniscule shorts, clinging to my rear and upper thighs… My shorts!! Oh no!! All my cash was shoved in there… Shit!! There's nothing but ash! Thousands and thousands burnt to a crisp!

The sound of sirens is getting loud again. I guess the next wave is pretty close. They could be coming because of the lack of response from the units I just dealt with or because someone's seen the helicopter exploding and reported it in. But I don't care why they're coming. It was the police who arrested me and got me locked up in that fucking institution. And it was the police who got my money cremated. Those bastards are going to pay!

I can hear a lot of vehicles headed this way - coming from different directions. And there's different types of sirens, too. Maybe there's other emergency services on the way… And now what? I don't believe it! Whose this joker? He must have come from one of the houses on this street… Maybe the explosion woke him up. He's running this way. I hope he's not going to ask me to apologise for the noise!

"Are you OK?"

Did I hear correctly? Did that guy just ask me if I was alright? I'm fucking bullet-proof and this guy is asking if I'm OK! He can't even come within ten yards of me, because each time he tries, the heat of the fire forces him back. I can't help grinning when I see his jaw dropping and his eyes bulging as I walk calmly towards him through the flames.

"Who…. What… are you?" he stammers as I stop right in front of him. He's completely freaked out, but as he's asking me a question, he's staring at my chest. I stand there, pushing my shoulders back a little to make my big tits stand out even more and listen to the guy's heartbeat almost double in speed. It's so weird knowing my appearance has such a profound effect on a man.

Eyes glued to the top half of my T-shirt, he pants "You're gorgeous!"

"And you're dead." I reply. The words are out of my mouth before I've even engaged my brain, but his obsession with my breasts is really bugging me, so I've got no problem making good on my promise. I bring my bare knee up into his groin. It's quite satisfying hearing first the crunching of his bone and muscle then his short-lived scream as my knee forces him backwards into the air. He crashes down twenty yards away.

There's more voices now - people in various states of undress have come out of a number of the houses. I guess they've seen some of what's happened because they're all running away from me towards the end of the street. I can hear more people moving in the opposite direction behind me. Imagine that! People fleeing for their lives from me! I feel so fucking powerful, it's wonderful!

There's a scream and a screech of brakes behind me so I whirl around to see. A police car must have almost hit one of the running pedestrians. I feel so… proud. Proud to have caused all this chaos. I'll just wait here watching as the cops start trying to evacuate everyone from the street. More cars arrive. Spinning the other way, I can see three or four guys in uniforms waving to people, telling them to move away. There's also a fire engine parked there. Now an ambulance has joined it. And another.

I hadn't noticed it at first, but the coppers have stuck three of their cars end to end across the street like some kind of barrier. I'll turn back to see if they've done the same at the other end of the road, and... yes, they have. I think they're trying to fence me in here. They can't be for serious! But... they are. A couple of them are running along the street, banging on all the doors, trying to get everybody out of the houses. They want me trapped in the middle of a deserted road. What do they expect to do? Tickle me to death? The stupid bastards!

I'm watching all these people scurrying around in the light of the streetlamps and the fire that's still burning in the middle of the road and I can't think of what I should do next. I mean, do I wait for the coppers to evacuate the whole street and then find out what they have planned for me? Or do I just walk out of here and see what they try to do about it? Judging by the urgency of their movements trying to get everyone out of the houses, they must be intending something pretty large scale.

OK, I'm curious. I'll stay here. My problem is with the police, not the people in the houses. The sooner the public gets the fuck out of here, the better, so I'm not going to stop the evacuation. I'll check the ends of the street... I can see quite a few emergency vehicles have turned up now. It's a bit weird - there's fire engines, but no sign of anyone trying to put out the fire I'm standing next to. And there's ambulances, but no sign of anyone tending to any of the corpses dotted around. Not that anything can be done for them, anyway…

The last stragglers are being helped up to the end of the road, so I guess it won't be long until something happens. I can see some activity taking place around all the parked vehicles - loads of police running to and fro, some firemen huddled in a group - that sort of thing. There's a guy in a dark suit pointing and talking. He looks like he's in charge. I wonder if I can use my amazing powers of hearing to tune in on what he's saying? I'll try concentrating and… Yes! This is so cool….

"…but do not enter the zone unless or until you are instructed to do so." he's telling the firemen. This is interesting. I'll keep listening. "As yet we don't know what kind of weapon we're facing here, so nobody try any heroics." Weapon? Weapon! There's nothing here but little old me! The only weapons that I've seen used tonight are the screws' sticks and the coppers' guns. This idiot doesn't have a clue. What else has he got to say?

"The specialist teams are still a couple of minutes away, so the longer we can maintain this stand-off, the better our chances of a clean outcome." Specialist teams? For me? I feel so honoured! As for a "stand-off"… Well, he must be having a laugh. The only reason I'm here is because I want to be. And what does he mean by a "clean outcome"? The street already looks pretty messy to me! I'm going to have to put this jerk right.

I put my hands around my mouth and shout "Hey! Suit guy!" Wow! That was loud! A couple of windows shattered and all the coppers and ambulance guys and firemen are holding their ears. I love being this powerful! I tone it down a bit - but not a lot - and carry on: "I said, hey suit guy!" They're all looking at me. Finally the idiot I'm trying to talk to looks around and points quizzically at himself. "Yeah, you!" I yell. "Who the fuck did you think I meant? Don't just stand there making me shout! Come here. I want a word with you."

He's hesitating so I shout "What's wrong with you, arsehole? I said come here!" Now he's moving... But he's not coming much closer. Someone's handing him a megaphone. He puts it to his lips and answers. The amplifier on that thing is no match for my unaided voice... He says "We know who you are, Lisa. We know what you did at the Institution. You have to come with us. We don't want to hurt you, but-"

"Hurt me?!" I blurt out, laughing.

"Lisa, you have to face up to what you have done." he says, sounding like a school teacher. The bastard! Who does he think he's talking to?  He's so fucking dead!

"You listen to me you pig!" I shout. It's awesome the way my voice smashes windows and makes dozens of people clasp their heads in shock, so I keep the volume level nice and high as I go on: "You and your mates have burnt up a shit-load of my cash. This is what you're going to do. You're going to pay it back, say sorry and then fuck off!"

"We can't do that Lisa. You have to come with us - quietly." he says. It's kind of funny, because he almost drops the megaphone trying to use it whilst he covers his ears to protect himself from my voice.

I keep on shouting "You really don't want to piss me off." There's silence for a moment. I can see another guy in a padded dark blue jacket coming up to the jerk with the loudspeaker. I guess they reckon they're out of earshot, but I can hear every word as the newcomer says "We're ready to go, sir."

"Do it now." says suit-man and the other one raises his arm, giving a signal I suppose.

Oh, what's that? Something fizzing over head. There's a small bang and then… Smoke! Thick smoke everywhere, a cloud of it engulfing me. I can't see a fucking thing. I'll try using my incredible zooming… No! It's not working! I can only zoom in on individual smoke particles, I can't see through the fog. I can hear loads of movement - people running towards me from all sides, but I can't see!

Waving my hands around doesn't seem to work either - I can clear a tiny space in the cloud for a moment, but it's not enough. This stuff is horrible. It's getting in my mouth and it takes really disgusting. Can I "tune out" the hateful flavour? Yes! At least that's a bit better. What the fuck is it? Some kind of poison gas? If it is, it's not working. I've must have breathed in a ton of it and I feel fine. It's not even making my eyes water.

But it is making it impossible to tell what's going on. I can hear people close by, but I can't actually see them… wait… there's something in the fog… what the hell…. It looks like some kind of science fiction monster… No. It's a man wearing a rubber suit with a gas mask. So.. this smoke is supposed to be toxic! It doesn't appear to work on me, though. Hmmm... I know how I can be certain.

I walk over to the guy in the chemical suit. He sees me and raises his hands like he's going to punch me, but he's really clumsy in that ridiculous outfit and I dodge out of his reach. I've got my hand on the front of his mask now so I should be able to just pull it off his head like this…

Oops! I think I hurt him doing that. The straps snapped easily enough in my grasp, but they've cut his face and he's bleeding from both cheeks. His mouth's open like he wants to shout in pain, but he's not making any noise - just a strange rasping sound. Now he's fallen to the ground. Surely I didn't hurt him that badly? I can't see him down there because of the smoke. I'll have to bend down so I can see what's going on. Where is he? Oh, right. Found him.

Wow! He's dead. His eyes look really freaky like they're half-way out his head. The gas must be poisonous! For everyone else but me, that is. I'm immune to gas attack. Interesting…. Hey, who's that touching my arse? I spin round and there's another joker in full rubber gear with a face mask bending over and grabbing at me. The fucking pervert! I'm still bending over, so I can only reach his balls when I punch him. Pretty appropriate for a groper, I say. It makes me smile when he screams as my fist hits, Then he's flying away, vanishing into the fog.

There's more of them, moving around in this soup. I can hear them. I'm going to concentrate on the sound of just one heartbeat like this… Cool! Now I can track it down… Yes! It's coming from over there… Ooops! I must've just kicked somebody - or more likely, some body - that was lying on the ground, lifting it into the air. Wish I could see what it was… it's taking quite a while to come back down… Ah. There's the thud. Whoever it was has hit the concrete quite a way away. Too bad we were never formally introduced!

Meantime, I getting close to the beating heart I'm stalking… There! Did I see something moving in the thick smoke? I'll reach in… Got something… Oh! What a scream! Whatever I closed my hand on went crunch and suddenly feels wet and sticky. I'll pull it close to see…. It's some guy's shoulder.. I've completely crushed it with my hand. What a mess! Got to get rid of this… Shit! Not like that! I shouldn't have thrown him down so hard. My ankles have been completely splattered. I guess his head must have popped. Yuck!

I can count three more heartbeats in here. One over here, one over there, and the third one behind me. I'll take the nearest one first…. There! I can see his head! I'll just reach over and pull off his face mask like this… Down he goes! Now for the one over there… Is that him? I'll give it a little tug… Yes! This is brilliant! It's hard to see in the fog, but he's hanging, legs kicking furiously, whilst I hold him in the air with just one hand gripping the back of his rubber suit.

It's so easy! I feel so powerful, tossing him over my shoulder with a little flick of my wrist. Now for the last one. He's over in this direction… Am I imagining things or is the smoke beginning to clear? Yes, yes, it is definitely clearing. And I can see someone moving around… He obviously hasn't seen me, though. I can just walk up to him… Now he sees me! His arms fly up but it's too late. I've already got my fingers around the mouthpiece of his mask and off it pops.

The gas is clearing, but there's obviously enough of it in the air still, because his eyes become huge immediately and he shudders for a brief moment then collapses at my feet. I can see the street lamps above once again as the cloud finally begins to lift. I feel pretty pleased with myself right now. I mean, those idiots thought the gas would kill me while they would be safe in their protective suits. Instead, I'm the only one who's still alive.

Now I've got to find that bastard with the megaphone and teach him some fucking manners. The smoke's nearly cleared enough for me to work out which direction on the street I'm facing… Yes! I can see the top of a house over there… So, he's probably in this direction… Ah, now I'm walking right out of what's left of the cloud of poison gas. I can see the fire-engines and ambulances at the end of the street once more. And… yes! There he is, holding a huge pair of binoculars up to his eyes. Now's he's dropped them on the ground. I guess he must've spotted me then.

He bends down and stands back up with his megaphone. I keep walking towards him as it crackles into life. "Lisa! Don't make this any worse than it already is!" He's such an arrogant, patronising bastard! I'm going to tear his fucking head off and use it as a football. And I'm going to do the same thing to all his fucking friends, too - especially the shit in the blue jacket who organised the whole poison gas thing…

What's this? A little red dot on my T-shirt, dancing about over the fabulous swell of my chest. And there's another, just beside it. And a third on my arm. Oh, and there's a couple on my belly, too. Hey! This must be like in the films when they use lasers to aim guns! I'll look up... Yes - I'm right. I can see a couple of guys squinting through the sights of rifles. There's another one further along, and two more over there, and…

Fucking hell! There's dozens of them! And they're all going to fire at once! I wonder how it'll feel...


Conceptfan, Jun. 2004.

The story so far...

Sixteen year-old juvenile delinquent Lisa Reed has been sentenced to a spell in a youth detention centre for arson. One night she is visited by a strange alien force which transforms her into a supremely sexy, ultra-powerful one-girl army. She breaks out, destroying thick steel doors, brick walls and countless guards.

As the mysterious extraterrestrials hoped, the authorities are after her. She's been shot at and she's been engulfed by highly lethal poison gas, both without suffering any ill effects. For her part she's killed more than a few specialist police and brought down a helicopter by throwing a car door at it. Now she's standing in the middle of a sealed-off street, ranks of special forces at either end of the road aiming their laser-guided rifles at her stunning body.



This is all so unreal. The whole front of my body - my flat stomach, my amazingly firm, huge round tits, my neck and probably my face as well - is peppered with little spots of red light. They're on my back too; I can see them when I glance over my shoulder. In the night, and against my over-stretched black top, the dots show up really clearly, dancing about over my stunning curves as I move. Why did that weird alien voice have to give me such a tight T-shirt? It looks like my fabulous bust is practically bursting out of it! And why's it got to be so low-cut? When I glance down, I can barely see my feet for the top portion of my breasts and the massive cleavage between them. I mean, they do look awesome, like something straight out of a guy's wet dream, but... Was that alien some kind of pervert or something?

But that's what's so freakish about all this. I've just survived a poison gas attack and now I'm being lined up in the sights of a whole load of guns, and I'm thinking about the way my tits look. I should be terrified that I'm about to die, but after everything that's happened tonight, I'm not at all scared. I'm much more interested in my wardrobe. All those guys, about to shoot at me, and I'm just in awe at my body. My new, super body. With its amazing super boobs.

Those red dots are everywhere! How many of them are there? I'll look up, towards the end of the street and try to count the number of men with rifles. Fuck, there's a lot of them. Seventeen in front of me. I'll turn around and count the others... twelve more behind. That was quick! It's so easy to spot them thanks to my amazingly powerful eyes, even though it's night and they're all wearing black. Looking back at the jerks in front of me now and... Wow! I can even tell which red dot comes from which rifle... This is amazing!

One of the little spots of light is quivering right in the centre of my chest. Now it's rising up my body a little, passing the low neck-line of my top and coming to rest, right in the deep valley between the two large round curves of my beautiful big breasts. The guy aiming that shot must be a complete perv. He's obviously totally obsessed with my tits, the bastard. Which one of the fuckers is it?.... Ah, spotted him. Eighth from the left. I was right - his tongue's hanging out like a dog's. What a sicko! I'm going remember his face. I'll show him what happens to pervs who stare at my boobs. In fact, I'll show all these fuckers what I think of them! How dare they use their fucking poison gas on me! How dare they think about shooting at me! I haven't even got a weapon, for fuck's sake! I mean, there's twenty-five of them with rifles and a load of others, too. They don't even want to give me a chance!

They're all the same. The jerk in the suit with the megaphone who thinks he's a teacher telling me off for being naughty. His mate with the blue jacket who was the one who organised the whole gas thing. All the guys with the rifles - especially the one drooling as he aims at my tits... I'm going to show them all that pissing me off is the worse move they ever made. I'm going to...

Oh! What's this? Suit-jerk is putting that megaphone to his lips again. He better be apologising this time! Even if he is, I'm still going to hurt him for what he's already done. But I might let him live if he says sorry properly. So, what's he got to say for himself then?

"Lisa. This is your last chance!" Who the fuck does he think he is?

"We don’t want to hurt you, but you’re giving us no choice." No choice? No fucking choice? Did I "choose" to be attacked by gas? Did I "choose" to be lectured by this arsehole? What’s he saying now?

"Lisa, I’m going to count to three. If you’re not lying on the ground by the time I get to ‘three’, I’m going to tell all these men here to shoot you. Do you understand?" How dare this bastard patronise me like that! Got to think of a smart-arse reply…

"One…." Think, Lisa, think! There must be some clever put-down I can use.


I can’t think of anything… Oh well, the old stand-by will have to do. I’ll shout it really loud to make up for the unoriginality. Quick, before he says ‘Three’. Here goes…

"FUCK YOU!!" Wow! That was loud! Loads of windows in the houses in the street just blew out, and in the cars and trucks too. Three of the guys at the end of the street fell down! I knocked them over just by raising my voice! How cool is that?! A lot of the others are holding their hands over their ears. I feel so powerful. I love this.

"Three!" Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Is he really going to go through with it?

"Fire!" Yes, he is, the fucker. Shit, there’s a lot of them. This might actually hurt… or worse. Am I ready for it? There’s the flashes of light! So many of them, spread across in a line in front of me. Now, the bangs… in front and behind. Too late now! Here they come…

Oh! Is that it? I expected it to feel a lot more…. Well - a lot more. It’s just like having tiny paper balls thrown gently at me. I can feel each impact, but they don’t hurt at all. But when I look… Wow! It really is an awesome sight even if it’s anything but an awesome feeling… I can see the smears as the bullets race towards me - so many of them at once - and I can see them bouncing away, all bent and squished like cigarette butts. It’s like hundreds of droplets of water from a shower, splashing against my body and rebounding away.

Some of them make a dull thud when they hit me, especially the ones tapping against my big chest. Others, like the ones pinging off my flat stomach, make much sharper sounds. It’s like my boobs are a bit softer than my belly… Well, not that much softer, obviously, if all these big bullets are just bouncing off them without even tickling.

There’s load of them hitting my back too, and my head. They don’t feel any more painful than the others. I know that I must be getting hit all over by, probably, a hundred different bullets every second, but the sensation is like being caught by a bit of extremely light drizzle. It’s amazing… All those guns, all these bullets and I’ve never felt better. I reckon I could just stand here, letting them all fire at me all night long without even getting a tiny bruise.

The only problem is the racket they’re making. I can’t hear myself think. It’s really starting to piss me off. I’ll try and tune out the sound of guns firing and bullets smacking into me… That’s better. Much better. I can hear other sounds now… like the jerk in the suit shouting "Keep firing! She has to weaken sooner or later!" The bastard! What’s he muttering under his breath now? It’s so hard to hear… got to concentrate on his words… there! "Die, bitch!" I don’t believe it! He really wants me dead. All that crap about not wanting to hurt me… I’ll show him!

I’m too angry to just stand here and get shot. I’m running towards the end of the street now, getting closer and closer to the line of men firing at me, heading straight for the bastard in the suit. I can feel the bullets hitting me a little less softly now that I’m closer to the guns, but they still don’t hurt. Even the ones that are striking my face. I think a shot just hit me in the eye. It’s a strange sensation, but nothing I can’t blink away. I don’t care anyway. I’ve had enough of this whole game. They think they can shoot me and I’ll fall down like some good little girl? Well, it doesn’t work like that anymore.

I’m close now to the bastard. The guys nearest me have stopped firing. A couple of them are turning away from me. So is the guy I’m coming for. I think he’s trying to run away, the coward. He’s too slow, though. I can already see that from here. No way I am going to let him get away. There’s a car parked between me and him. It should be no problem for me to jump over it, but fuck it, I’m not in the mood for jumping. I’ll give it a good kick with my left foot and…

Wow! The "Clang!" as my foot struck the side of that thing made everyone else jump. For a moment, I thought my leg was going to go straight through it, the way the metal crumpled up around my toes, but I’m glad it didn’t. It’s so much better like this - my long, shapely leg so easily lifting the whole thing off the road like it was a football. It’s almost beautiful, seeing the car with the bashed-in door, spinning as it soars sideways-on into the night sky. I did that with just a little kick. I’m so strong! That thing is going to come down three streets away…

No time for that now. I’m just a couple of steps away from Mr. Die-bitch. He glanced back when I hit the car, and the look on his face was pure terror. Good. I can tell he’s running as fast as he can, but I’m going to catch him as if he was standing still. I’m going to show him what a "bitch" can do. I'll reach for him now… here goes….

Nice! That crunching sound as I grip his shoulder tight… and then his scream as I lift him off the road by what’s left of it. His blood is trickling over my hand as I turn him around to face me. It’s brilliant the way his big body is as easy to move as an empty polythene bag… Look at that! He’s white as a sheet… he’s absolutely terrified. Who’s the big man now?

"Now… now… L… L… Lisa…. We… c… c… can… t… t… talk…" He’s trembling like a leaf! And what’s that smell? I don’t believe it! He’s pissing himself. That’s disgusting.

"You pathetic arsehole." I say as I toss him aside before any of his piss drips on me. He flies, screaming over the heads of all the guys running away. I turn to look just in time to see him hit the wall of a house and go splat. Serves the bastard right. Now, who’s next?

Everyone I can see is running from me. They’re all scared and so they should be. What did they think? That they could just shoot at me and I’d say "thank you" and go home? The only ones shooting now are the jerks at the other end of the street behind me. There’s a whole clump of guys in black carrying rifles running over to my right. I could reach them in just a couple of quick strides like this…

Oh! One of them’s fallen. No, wait. He’s been shot. I guess that bullet was meant for me. It did a lot more for him than any of the others has done for me. Another one has tripped over the body. It’s chaos! And all because of me… I bend down and grab hold of the falling man’s ankle. He’s so light - or I’m so strong - that it’s no effort at all to overpower the momentum of his trip. I lift the captured ankle high over my head so that the man attached to it is hanging upside down from my grasp. I might as well be holding a feather for all the strain I can feel.

Hey! I’ve just had a great idea. This is going to be cool! I take a couple of steps forward and swing the leg I’m holding overhead. It goes "Snap!" and the guy screams, but my plan is working. I’m spinning his whole body like a helicopter-blade above me. This is fun! Something else has snapped - quite loudly - in his leg. He’s stopped screaming now, but he seems to be rotating even more easily than before.

I’ve got to time this carefully. I mustn't let go too soon or too late. It should be OK right about.... now! Oh yes! A perfect throw! The guy I was spinning flew off like a martial arts weapon right into the little group of shooters, knocking them all over like skittles. A couple of them are still moving. They must be hurt - it's taking them a while to get back to their feet. One of them's struggling to lift the guy that I threw off his back. It's funny to see a big man having a hard time lifting something that I was effortlessly twirling over my head with one hand a moment ago. I'll just stroll over there... No hurry, it's taking him so long, I'll get to him ages before he stands up.

This is brilliant. He hasn't even seen me yet. I'm standing right next to where he's scrabbling about on the ground. Finally! He's seen me. Or rather he's seen my ankles. He's starting to look up now. And up and up and... ah. He must have reached my chest. That's why his eyes have suddenly grown so huge. His jaw's hanging open. Wait a moment... there's something familiar about him... Of course! It's the perv who aimed his gun at my tits! He really does have a thing for those beauties. I can tell he's scared; I can hear his heart pumping and see the sweat beginning to bead on his face, but it's like he's in a hypnotic trance, halfway between crouching and standing, just staring at my cleavage.

Wow! Just by bending over slightly and thrusting my big chest closer to his head, I've made his pulse sound like a techno drum beat. There's still bullets flying around from the other end of the street. I'm standing sideways-on to the jerks firing down there, and I can feel the occasional gentle tap of a direct hit against my hip, my arm and the side of my round breast. The perv under the spell of my tits is going to get hit at this rate, but he doesn't seem to care. It's like he's happy to trade his life for a close-up of my fantastic bust, the filthy bastard. What's wrong with him?

"Hey, arsehole!" I say to him.

"Huh?" he says, not moving his eyes an inch.

"You like big tits, perv? Why don't you take a closer look?" I grab him by the chin and pull his face up to my chest and then lean hard into him, pressing my breasts against his head. I hear his nose crunch. He screams, but the sound is muffled by my generous round, firm flesh. There's fresh blood trickling into my cleavage. The scream stops, there's a loud crack, and he goes limp. I know I've broken his skull with my just my tits and that makes me feel pretty awesome, but the mess I've made of his face is not a pretty sight as I let go of him and let him collapse at my feet. My chest is smeared with blood. I’ve got nothing to wipe myself with, unless…

Of course! I have an unlimited supply of rags at my feet. None of these dead guys need their clothes anymore. I bend low and tear a strip of jacket off the perv whose skull I crushed. I think it’s supposed to be some kind of tough material, but I tore it with two fingers like tissue paper. Wiping his blood off the top of my breasts, seeing their awesome shape and size and feeling their superhuman firmness, I can’t help smiling. Especially when I see the damage I caused to the stiff’s face with those lovely mounds. I’ve got most of the mess cleaned off myself, so I drop the rag back where I got it from. I step over the tit-lover’s corpse and look around to see if there's any other perverts nearby who need teaching a lesson.

Everyone else in the immediate area has bolted. I can see one guy sprinting way up the street. I could probably catch him if I wanted but... I don't see the point. Not while there's still a bunch of fuckers at the other end of the street still shooting at me. I can feel the occasional bullet bouncing off my back, or my head or my arse. Haven't they got the message yet? How many of these bastards do I have to kill before they'll leave me alone?

I turn around so I can see them. There they are, still standing in a line behind two cars parked sideways-on across the street. There's those little red dots again, running over my body, quivering over my curves. And each time one of the dots stabilises, I feel a light tap near it a moment later as yet another bullet bounces off me. I'm starting to get really, really pissed off with this game. I think I'm going to charge down the street and lay into those bastards to get rid of them once and for all. I don't care how messy it gets. Enough is enou-

What's that sound? Oh, there's a parked police car next to me. That bullet I felt against my right breast just now must've bounced off me into the windshield. Funny how a slug can totally smash the window of a car after it's rebounded off my tit without even scratching me. I must be completely fucking invulnerable - as well as amazingly strong...

Hmmm... a couple of moments ago I kicked a car into the sky without even trying. I must be strong enough to lift this other one off the road. Maybe I could throw it at the jerks shooting at me? They're quite a way away - maybe sixty yards - but still, it's worth a try. I might not actually hit them, but I'll bet I could get them to stop shooting that way... Yes, I'm going to try it.

Just a moment... how exactly do I lift a car? I'm certain I'm strong enough to do it - no question of that - but it's a pretty big object... I can't spread my arms wide enough to grab both sides of it. Wait - I know. I can lift one side of it, like this... Wow! It's so easy. It's like lifting a newspaper. Now it's tilted on one side I can use my other hand to grab hold of one of the pipes sticking out of the underneath. Ooops! It snapped off. Shit! Now I've got oil all over my hand.

I'll try again. This bit looks a bit more secure... yes... it's compressing a bit between my fingers but it's holding firm. Now, I'll take my first hand off the side of the thing and grab hold of a different part of the underneath, like this. Cool! All I've got to do now is raise my arms over my head. Better do it slowly, in case I lose balance but... wait! It feels so light I don't have to worry about balance. It's easy, like lifting a scarf overhead. There.

Fuck! That's awesome, looking up and seeing my arms - my straight, long, perfect slim arms - holding a whole fucking car in the air. The car is massive compared to me standing under it but I don't feel small. I feel powerful. I can barely even notice the strain, and I certainly don't seem to be getting tired supporting the weight. How strong must I be? Really, really strong, I guess. I could probably lift ten cars at once… maybe more.

Ach! Shit! What was that? Oil all over my face, dripping down onto my chest which I’ve only just wiped clean. A shot must have bounced straight up off the upper curve of one of my tits and punctured something in the underside of the car. I thought I heard a "ping!". I’m getting covered in this sticky black crap now. How am I going to get clean? It’s all the fault of those bastards shooting at me. I’m getting so pissed off with them. I really am going to throw this fucking car I’m holding at them.

I can’t really judge the throw. I’ve never tossed a car sixty yards down a street before. I’ll bend my arms back a bit for leverage… Wow! Seeing the whole machine lurching overhead in response to my every movement is amazing and - Yuck! Oil pouring onto my face! Those bastards! Fuck judgement. I’m going to chuck this piece of junk as hard as I can, like this…

Oh my god!! Did I really do that? Am I that strong! Fuck, this is awesome! The car is shooting down the street like a fucking missile. It’s going in a dead straight line, staying the same height above the road like it’s a plane not a car! They’re all diving out of the way up there but they’ve got no chance - the car is travelling too fast. Or rather, I threw the car too hard. Or rather, I threw the car just right. It’s going to take out four… no five of the fuckers…

Wow! Those five guys just disappeared from sight in a splash of red as the car-missile hit them. It smashed right through the parked vehicles they were hiding behind and then right through the men. It didn’t slow down at all, it just kept going. It’s hit another couple of bastards in black. They were running away down the street and never even saw it coming. The thing must be over a hundred yards away from me now, but it’s still showing no signs of slowing or coming down. Oh wait… there’s a fire engine parked across the street right in its path. This should be interesting…

What a smash! The car’s almost cut the fire truck in half. It’s pushed the bigger vehicle back about ten yards, bending it into a V-shape. There’s glass everywhere and - Oh wow! The car’s exploded… Another bang! Fuck, the fire engine’s gone up now. The whole far end of the street has disappeared in fire… there’s huge chunks of metal crashing down all around. I can hear screaming and shouting above the noise of the flames. All that destruction and chaos… and I made it happen. This is awesome!

Oh, look at that! A big burning piece of something - must be the fire truck as it’s red - is flying down right towards me. I should get out of its way… No, fuck it. If all those bullets didn’t hurt then nothing will. I don’t have to run away from anything anymore. I’m not going to move an inch. Everyone else might be running away and yelling, but I’m just going to stand here…

That thing is pretty big though. Maybe as big as me. And it’s burning like crazy as it comes down. It looks like a comet. I’m not sure I shouldn’t dive for cover… It’s now or never… Fuck it, no. I’m going to take a chance. See what it feels like to get hit by half-a-ton of flaming fire-engine debris. Too late now, anyway.

Oh! It’s bounced off the top of my head. It felt like being patted by some patronising uncle. I didn’t even notice the heat. Look at that! It must have risen back up about a yard after hitting me. My skull must be harder than solid metal. My knees didn’t even move as the thing smashed down onto me. Now it’s coming back down, right in front of me. A sharp bit of something is scraping my face. It should have cut me open, but all I can see is the metal flattening and bending where it’s touching me. It’s almost tickling me.

Ha! That was great. As it passed my head, it hit the top of my chest. For a second I thought the whole chunk was going to balance there, hanging off my great big tits. I certainly wasn’t aware of the weight of it when my bust temporarily supported its whole mass. I love my new super tits! The flames were right in my face, but it didn’t feel hot or anything. Now the entire mass has rolled off my chest. The noise when it finally crashed to the ground was impressive. Like the chunk was heavier - a lot heavier - than it felt to me.

It’s still on fire. No wait… It’s me! I’m on fire! There’s flames on the exposed portion of my body, above the low neckline of my black top and on my face… Oh my god! My face is on fire and I hadn’t even noticed. My hands, too. It must be all that oil that spilt over me from the car I threw. It’s so strange. I should be screaming and burning to death, but I just feel a little warm. I know that under the flaming oil, my perfect skin is completely untouched. I’m so super! I just can’t be hurt. I love this!

The flames on my body are starting to die down now. I guess they’ve burnt up a lot of the oil. I can put out the remainder of the fire on me with my hands. It’s kind of weird, putting my palm over a hot flame knowing that I won’t get so much as a tiny blister. There… That’s the last of it. I’m totally extinguished now. But I’m oily and there’s black, greasy smears all over my lovely skin. I’ve got to clean up.

I can’t see anywhere to have a shower around here. The street looks completely deserted now. Everyone has split from behind me where I rushed the guards and all I can see at the other end of the road is the flames still rising from what’s left of the fire-engine. I can’t see anything left of the car I threw at it. The fire and smoke are blocking my view, but I definitely can’t make out any people in there. There’s quite a few bodies on the street though. And loads and loads of wreckage…

This is the first moment I’ve had for ages to just think. It’s amazing to take in the scene. Everywhere I look I can see major destruction. There’s a bit of the helicopter I brought down. Over there, the blood stain on the side of that house where I tossed that megaphone-jerk. Ha! Funny to think that, a few minutes ago, he was using his stupid loudspeaker to threaten me. Now he’s just a splat on a wall. And anyway, my voice was louder than his megaphone. Much louder. Everything about me now is better than everyone else.

That fire truck is still burning too. It looks like a giant punched it or something. Just thinking about the way I picked up a car and threw it like a rocket the length of the street is blowing my mind. I’m walking towards the fire now. It’s such an awesome feeling knowing that I did all that with my bare hands. I’m incredible. I can do anything - anything I want - and no-one can stop me, even if they’ve got guns or poison gas or whatever. I don’t have to be scared of anything or anyone.

I’m standing no more than ten yards from the fire-engine now. There’s nothing much left of it but a blackened, twisted frame. The impact of the car almost folded it in half. It’s cool the way I can just walk right into the fire and not even my clothes are getting singed. I’m too dirty to notice anyway. In the brilliant light of the centre of the blaze, the filth really shows up. It’s funny really. I’m standing right in the middle of an inferno and all that it means to me is that the dirt on my skin shows up. Oh, and I can feel a little bit of warmth. Not even to make me sweat though. I wonder if anything can make me sweat anymore?

Hey! What’s that? Something just caught my ankle. There can’t be anyone alive in this fire - other than me, of course… Ah. It was a bit of the fire-truck’s frame. I must have walked into it without looking. Or maybe the flames hid it. Either way, I didn’t see it. My slender ankle just sliced clean through a three-inch thick length of almost red-hot steel and I only realised because I felt something brushing against my foot. Oh well… this is all going to take some getting used to.

The flames seem to be thinning out as I walk on… yes, I’m coming out of the blaze now, into the cool air. Wow, there’s a lot of vehicles parked back here. Three, no four, cop cars. And two large black vans with the back doors open. I wonder if that’s what all those guys with the rifles arrived in. I can’t believe they’ve just abandoned everything and ran! All those armed men… running for their lives…. From me!

There’s an ambulance here too, with its lights on… Wait a moment, what’s that? I can hear something… there’s someone in there! Two people at least, whispering to each other. It’s definitely coming from the ambulance. What are they saying? I’ll concentrate on their voices, and try and block out the sound of the fire behind me, like this…

"…all night?"

"All night and all day if we have to. You saw what happened to the fire-engine! You really want to take your chances out there with whatever did that?"

"I… I don’t know. I don’t want to stay here and wait for it to find me…"

"But, if we move, we’ll attract its attention for sure! We just need to sit tight and wait for the special ops. guys to come and tell us it’s all clear."

"What if they don’t come? What if whatever it is has killed them all?"

"Then we’ve really got to stay here…"

The poor lads! They sound absolutely terrified in there. I’ll just leave them to it, and keep going.

"Hey man… do you believe what that guy said earler?" What are they talking about now? With hearing as sensitive as mine, I can’t help overhearing...

"Which guy?"

"The special ops. guy. You know. The one who said that they were shooting at some girl who’d broken out of borstal."

"I don’t know. Why would he have lied to us?"

"Maybe that’s his orders… If there’s some kind of bullet-proof monster on the loose that can smash up a fire-engine like that, maybe the government wants to keep it a secret or…"

"…or maybe he was telling the truth."

"The truth? So, who did all this damage?"

"Maybe it was the girl."

"A girl? A girl did all that?" It makes me feel so proud hearing the amazement in the guy’s voice.

"Listen, I don’t know. I’ve been stuck in here with you the whole time…" I want to show them that they’re right, that I did do all that, but I’m not going to waste any time on them. Maybe those "special ops." are going to return… I’m not sure I want to still be here when they do. I’ll just keep on going, and walk away…

"Yeah, but there’s no way they’d send so many guys after some little delinquent bitch." Did I hear that right? Did that shit in the ambulance just call me a bitch? How fucking dare he!

Screw walking away, I’ve already turned around and I’m striding right for the back of the ambulance.

"Sshhh! Someone’s coming" You’re damn right there, pal. Now, how do you open these double-doors?... Fuck it, I’ll just pull hard. That’s done it! Both of the doors just tore off their hinges. Sounded like screaming, felt like ripping cigarette paper. Wow, those two look pretty shocked. Oh, I’m still holding the back doors, one in each hand. I’ll just get rid of them over my shoulders like this. The two guys are just staring... One of them’s trying to follow the flight of the doors and the other one… ah, another fan of my tits. His eyes are practically popping out of his skull to get a closer look.

I’m pissed off with this pair and I’m showing it with my body language - my hands on my hips, face angry. "Which one of you called me a bitch?" I demand. They don’t answer, but that might be because they were distracted by the sound of the ambulance doors crashing down on to the roof of a house or something in the distance behind me. "I said: Which one of you fuckers called me a bitch?"

"H… h… him" says one of them, pointing at the other guy - the one staring at my cleavage. I reach into the ambulance with my right hand and grab big-eyes by the front of his uniform. I’ve lifted quite a few guys in the last hour, but it’s still amazing how light a large man feels to me. In no time I pull him out, holding his face right next to mine.

"I don’t like being called a bitch, fucker." I tell him.

"It.. it wasn’t me!" he protests, almost tearfully. That really gets me annoyed. It’s not enough that one of these two has insulted me. Now they have to lie to me as well. Before I’ve even thought about what I’m going to do, I’ve grabbed the other guy with my other hand and pulled him out of the ambulance too. Now I’m standing there, holding them both, side-by-side, up to my face. They’re obviously terrified.

Wow! That was impressive. One of them’s screaming now because he just tried to punch me in the stomach. The "Crunch!" was amazing. His hand’s already turning purple. Now they’re both kicking me in the shins. Oh, now they’ve stopped. Apparently that hurt them too. Good. The lying fuckers.

The one who punched me has finally stopped yelling. Now, he’s just crying. For fuck’s sake! I’m the one who was insulted here. I got called a bitch, and I’m not crying. That reminds me…

"Seeing as neither of you has the guts to admit calling me a bitch," I tell the two men hanging from my clenched fists, "I’m going have to punish the pair of you."

"No, wait, It wasn’t me…"

"Yes, it was! I swear I never said anything about you…" They’re like pathetic children.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." I say, not even bothering to look as I fling my arms wide at my sides, letting go of the two idiots as I do so. I can hear the two screams diminishing as their owners soar off into the sky either side of me. I don’t even turn to check where either of them lands. I couldn’t give a fuck about them anymore. Still pissed off, I kick the underneath of the open ambulance.

It was a frustrated kick, more than a violent one, but it was still enough to lift the back end so far, the whole vehicle flips over onto its roof. All the medical supplies and instruments and stuff inside rain down. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a small mirror, which reminds me how dirty I still am. I tear a sheet from a dislodged gurney and use it to wipe my face, my neck, my shoulders, my arms, the top of my breasts…

That’s better. I was worried that I’d need to find some soap but all the grime - the oil, the soot, the blood - just wiped off me easily. Must be part of my invulnerability. Even my T-shirt doesn’t seem to be stained. The waist-band of my shorts is full of black powder, but that just falls to the ground when I run my finger around it…

Oh, shit! I just figured out what that black powder is. Or rather was… My money! All that cash I found in that garage. It’s all burnt up to dust thanks to those idiots who attacked me. Those bastards owe me thousands for that. If there were any of them around I’d make them pay back every last fucking penny, but they’ve all run, the cowards. I’m all alone here.

Maybe I could run after them… Which way did they go? Fuck, I don’t know. Should I try to find them? Go and hide somewhere? I don’t know where to go or what to do. Think, Lisa, think! Shit, I’ve got superpowers… I’m strong enough to throw a car and bullets just bounce off me… Why should I hide? I can do whatever I want now… Isn’t this what I always dreamed off? No-one can tell me what to do anymore. No-one can lock me up…

Of course! I’m immune to the law… to the police. So what if I lost my money. I can just go and take some more from somewhere. How are they going to stop me? Shoot me? I don’t think so! I could kick my way through a brick wall into a bank and then… well I busted a huge door with just my super tits. I’m sure a vault won’t be too much more difficult. Nothing’s difficult for me now. Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to walk until I find a bank and then I’m going to make a major withdrawal….

This is weird. I’m three streets away from the burning fire-engine now and there’s not a soul about. There should be a least a car or two going past or someone walking about… Maybe they’ve closed the road. Nah, that can’t be it, because there’d be police everywhere if they’d done that. Maybe they’re hiding somewhere… I try and listen for heartbeats… No, nothing… Wait. What’s that?

Sounds like…. A helicopter! And another one. And another… They’re coming from that direction. I’ll turn and look… the sky’s dark still but… yes, I can see the lights. Fucking hell! How many of them are there? Eight? No, more! They keep emerging from the darkness. Twelve! Twelve helicopters, headed right in this direction… Why won’t these fuckers just leave me alone?


Conceptfan, Sep. 2005.

The story so far...

16-year old Lisa Reed, locked up for arson, has broken out of borstal using the amazing powers given to her by mysterious extraterrestrials. On the way out, she smashed up everything in her path - stone, metal and men - with her unfathomable super strength. Now outside, she discovered she's invulnerable to fire, poison gas and even a hail of bullets.

After ripping apart a hastily-assembled mini-army of police and specialist marksmen, she found herself alone at last. Her solitude proves short-lived, however, as she barely has time to wipe the blood and oil off her stunning face and body before her super-sensitive hearing detects the noise of an approaching fleet of helicopters...



Why can't these fuckers just leave me alone? Haven't they seen what I've just done to the last bunch of bastards who pissed me off? I mean, I've had what... all of about three minutes to myself to try and work out what the hell I'm going to do with this incredible new body and they're back to pester me again! What've I got to do to convince them to stay away? Kill every last fucking one of them? Hmm, now that I think about it, that might actually work...

It's amazing how well I can see and hear now. Those helicopters are still a long way off but I can just stand here and zoom in on the nearest one and see the guys sitting up front. They're shining some kind of spotlight on to the ground, but whatever it's lighting up right now is hidden behind maybe three or four rows of houses. I get glimpses of the light reflecting off the roofs every time they fly over another street.

There's no doubt about it, they're headed my way. I guess the spotlight is so they can find me. Well, I've got news for them. It's not needed. I can see them just fine without it. In fact, I'm going to tell them. I'll have to shout if they're going to hear me above the racket of all those engines. Not a problem for me, because I can just tune out the noise, but they can't. So I'll cup my hands around my mouth, take a deep breath and -

What was that? All the dead leaves and bits of litter in the street all around me just left the ground and started to fly at me! That top of that tree over there seemed to lean towards me for a second too. Or did I imagine that? Maybe. I've seen so much freaky shit this evening I'm starting to believe anything's possible. Must've just been a strange gust of wind. I've got to calm down and think straight... So hard with all this noise! Those fucking helicopters with their stupid fucking light!

Oh yeah. That's what I was doing. Taking a deep breath to shout at those bastards. Here goes. Nice and loud:

"Oi! Turn that fucking light off!"

Awesome! All the windows in the street shook with my words. A couple of them smashed! The light shining down onto the roofs over there quivered a bit too. Did I also see the lead helicopter shaking for a moment as I finished shouting? I'm pretty sure I did, but that would be amazing! I mean if I could make it wobble in the air when it was that far away just with my voice...

One thing I am certain about. That irritating light is still on. It's passing over the nearest set of roofs now. It'll be lighting up the street I'm on in a few seconds. Didn't they hear me? Maybe I should say it again? I'll do it a bit louder this time, and keep my eye on the copter to see if it moves. Right then, a really deep breath...

Shit! It's happening again! All the little bits of paper and stuff on the street is hurtling right at me! That tree is bending towards me again. Wait a moment, all the trees are leaning towards me! Oh shit! That metal litter bin just tore free of the ground. It's flying straight for me... Oh fuck, it's going to smack right into my face...

Wait a moment! So what if it does smack my face? It's not going to hurt, is it? I mean, nothing hurts any more! That's what the "voice" said. And none of the bullets or anything that have hit me tonight have hurt... So I've got nothing to fear from a litter bin. I'll just let it smash into me and bounce off like everything else...

Oh. It's not going to hit me after all. It's crashed down to the ground a couple of yards in front of me. It's rolling a bit, but it's slowing down... It'll barely even reach my feet... Look at that! All the litter and leaves have stopped flying at me too. It's all just settling back down to the ground again. The trees aren't bent anymore either...

Something weird's going on here. It was like a gale appeared out of nowhere and started to blow everything at me and then just stopped. That's twice now: before, when I was getting ready to shout at the helicopter the first time and again just now as I was about to shout again...

Oh my god, I've just realised something! No way! That can't be it... can it? Those freak winds... everything flying towards my face.... they couldn't have been caused by me just taking a really deep breath, could they? Is that another amazing thing I can do now? I've got to find -"

"What the hell is going on down there?"

Who was that? Someone shouted... it was coming from behind my left shoulder... Who the fuck is shouting at me? I'll spin around... There's a couple of houses... Can't see anyone... Ah, yes. There! In the dark behind that smashed window-pane. A man's face. It must've been him.

"Mind your own fucking business!" I call up to him, but not loud enough to shake any windows.

"Did you smash my window?" he yells back, angrily. How fucking dare he get angry with me! It's not my fault his window broke when I shouted at that helicopter. Who the fuck does he think he is? I'm looking around on the ground for a stone or something to throw at the bastard. Why is there never one when you really need it? There's nothing on this street but cars parked on either side...

A car! I threw a car about half-a-mile easily enough earlier. I should be able to throw one at this bastard's window. Let's see... that red one looks ideal... now, what's the best way of picking up something so big. Maybe I should walk round to the front where it's not so wide. No, I can't be bothered. I'll try like this: just reaching down and getting one hand under the side then lifting it...

Oh! I love this! Being so strong! It's awesome seeing the way the whole car tips sideways as I lift one edge of it and at the same time feeling hardly any strain in my arm. It's just so easy, like the whole car weighs about as much as a small cup of water. My arm's straight out in front of my shoulder now, the car at a forty-five degree angle, and I know I could stand like this, holding it, all night if I want to.

But I haven't got all night. Those helicopters are getting closer all the time. I just wish everybody would leave me alone for a few minutes so I could try out some more of what my amazing "new" body can do. Why won't they leave me alone? That searchlight is already lighting up the street I'm on, making a yellow circle on the tarmac and concrete about a hundred yards away.

"What the hell are you doing to that car?"

Oh shit! I forgot about the bastard at the window. What's it to him what I'm doing with this car? Hey! I also forgot about the car! I mean, I'm standing here, holding half of it in the air, and I actually almost forgot I was doing it - that's how effortless it is! I'm so strong!

"Oi! Leave that car alone!"

I don't believe this arsehole! Shit, here comes the first chopper. That fucking light is going to be right in my face any second and I can't even fucking deal with it yet, because some idiot has to pick an argument with me. Right, I'm going just jab my free hand into the bottom of the car and hopefully, I can just raise it over my head like.... this! So easy! It made a sort of creaking noise and I thought it wouldn't balance, but I just compensated effortlessly with my arms.

Now, Mr. Rude-fucker-in-the-window, maybe this will make you shut up. OK, Lisa. Arms back a little then THROW THE FUCKER!

Yes! Bull's eye!

The car just rocketed straight through not only the window but also most of the wall around it. The whole front of the house started to collapse and then the petrol exploded and the top floor blew all over the street. A couple of bricks shot out and hit me, on the cheek and the shoulder, but they just shattered. I didn't feel much. There's just a big pile of bricks where the house was now. Can't see the car. Oh wait, I think that's a bit of it sticking out over there... It's all still on fire...

Good. That'll teach him not to shout at me. And just in time, because here comes that circle of light. Yup, here I am, boys... The bastards! I just wanted a few minutes to myself, but they just don't fucking care what I want. Well, I'm going to teach them not to stop me getting what I want in future. Why can't they just switch off that stupid fucking light and go home?

Actually, the light isn't as bad as I thought it'd be. I was sure it was going to be really dazzling, but I must've adjusted to it instantly, because I can look straight into it comfortably enough. I can even see what's in the darkness immediately behind the lamp. It's a man, sitting with his feet out of the door. He's got something on his lap but I can't see more than a tiny glimpse of black from this angle.

There's something near his mouth too... it's a headset. I can zoom in and see it better. Hmmm.... I like a guy with a little bit of stubble like this one. He's pretty much my type actually. He's all serious, listening to something. Must be his earpiece. I've got to try and tune out the noise of all the helicopter engines and focus on the sound from that headphone. It's tricky because it's all coming from the same direction, but... hang on.... yes! I think I can do it!

"-to a minimum."

What does that mean? Wait. No time for that now, handsome guy is about to speak.

"We're coming up on her now, sir."

Oh, I like his voice too! I hope he lands. I want to see the rest of him!

"Dropping now, sir."

Dropping? Does that mean he is going to land? What's that? He's just chucked something out. It's not very big... about the size of a pear... is that what he meant by "dropping"? That's disappointing. There's something familiar about that thing, though...

Oh my god! It's a grenade! And he's tossed it so it's going to come down more-or-less right on my head. Do I run? It's probably too late, but I'm not scared anyway. I've gone through enough explosions without getting hurt not to be scared of them anymore.

No, I'm not scared. But I am pissed off. Pissed off that the guy I thought looked alright has turned out to be a complete bastard who drops fucking grenades on girls' heads before he's even said "hello". Pissed off because once again, instead of leaving me alone, a bunch of men has turned up to try and fucking kill me. And pissed off because that thing is going to land and explode any fucking second and I haven't got another one to throw back.

Maybe I could try and catch the one that's falling and chuck it back. I can judge where it's coming down... just a step that way... cup my hands underneath it... yeah! This is going to be eas-


About fifty little pieces of sharp metal just smacked me in the face. Felt like rain to me, but for an instant just before they hit I was pretty nervous. I shouldn't have been. Nothing can hurt me now. That's getting to be pretty obvious. I mean, that grenade blew up just as it was about to land in my waiting hands. It exploded, literally, in my face. I was bathed in white-hot flame and it just seemed to get a bit warm for a while, nothing more.

I just glanced downwards for a moment and noticed that there's a small piece of twisted, smoking shrapnel sticking out of my big cleavage. Other than that there's not a tiny mark on the perfect round skin of my chest, just some dust. I reach with my left hand and extract the smouldering metal between my thumb and forefinger, squeezing it like dough and then dropping it before I brush the dust off the shelf of my breasts.

"Target wholly intact."

That's handsome-guy's voice. He must be reporting back, the fucking arsehole. What's he think he's going to do now? Drop two fucking grenades on me? And does he expect me to just stand here and wait for him to do it? What the hell does he think this is? 'Lisa, we've never met before but I was wondering if you could just stand there and do nothing while I make several attempts to kill you?' Well, he's picked on the wrong fucking girl for that! No way am I going to just stand here and let him try again.

Let's see... what do I have for that bastard? The grenade must've blown up all the cars around me. There's nothing but burnt out bits of car-frame at the sides of the road nearest me. It didn't seem like that big an explosion when I was standing in the centre of it...

There's a car that looks more-or-less intact. About twenty yards away. I'm not walking over to it, I'm running. I'm there. I'm bending down, grabbing the underside of the car, lifting it. I snatch at the freshly exposed underneath with my other hand. I'm way off-balance with my hand-holds, but the bulk is so easy to manoeuvre once I've got it above my head that it doesn't matter.

The only problem is that with the car looming above me, I can't actually see where the helicopter is. So, I lower my arms, stretching them to one side so that I'm holding the car out beside me, rather than over me. It doesn't feel any heavier like this. And it means I can instantly spot the copter. Plus, I can toss the car better from this position. A little swing of my arms to the left... the car lurches with me. Now, a big swing to the right and... Release!

The helicopter is quite high, but I can see the car's rising and rising in a straight line towards it. Pretty-boy is shouting "Move! Move!" but I can see from here already that it's too late for him. Maybe we could have been friends if he hadn't dropped a fucking grenade on me. Now he's getting what he deserves.

Wow. That's quite a bang. There's a twin fireball in the sky. At least that's the end of that fucking searchlight. Here comes the debris, raining down now. A bit of propeller or something lands a few yards from me. A big crash behind me. I turn around and there's the skeletal frame of a helicopter, black and bent, still on fire, just a yard from me. No sign of the arsehole. I bet he doesn't look so handsome now!

People are running out of the houses all up and down the street in pyjamas and night-clothes. They're all shouting at each other. Why don't they just shut up! They keep yelling and pointing at the flames and at the sky because the other helicopters are arriving now. Haven't these idiots ever seen a copter before?

"Hey! Do you know what's happening?" That's some woman, screeching at me in semi-panic. What am I? A public information service?

"Mind your own fucking business!" I tell her. It's really annoying. More and more people are spilling out, shouting and moving around. I wish they'd all just fuck off away from me. They keep distracting me from the helicopters. I tune out the sounds of over-excited voices and ignore the chaos on the ground all around me and look up at the sky to check on the choppers.

They seem to be spreading out, keeping their distance. Maybe they've finally got the message not to fuck with me. Then again, perhaps I should find a car now and pick it up ready just in case I have to show them again... Let me check... the nearest one is over there, and there's two more up the street on the other side if I need them I think... It's just so hard to see with all these people moving about all over the place... I'll turn around and see if there are any cars behind me that I can throw...

I can't believe it! Are there more helicopters coming from the other direction as well? They're in the sky whatever direction I look! No, wait... Isn’t that the one I saw over the other end of the street a moment ago? It is! I recognise the number on the tail. I don’t know how I remember that… I’ve never remembered those kind of details in the past but maybe that’s just another part of me that’s been improved…

But, if that copter was over there before and now it’s over there… they’re not spreading out! They’re just flying in a circle around me. Like fucking vultures or something. What’s it going to take to get them to leave me alone? I’m definitely going to get that car. Where was it? Ah, yeah. Over there. There's a small crowd of people milling around in front of it as I walk over.

"Get out of my way!" I shout at them. I love the power of my voice now! As soon as I started yelling, everyone I could see put their hands over their ears. Some windows on the houses rattled and the people in front of me staggered back. A couple who were right in line with me when I shouted actually seemed to be knocked backwards like they were shoved - hard. Their backs slam into the car I'm trying to get to and they slump down right next to it. But at least they've all stopped shouting now.

Everyone's staring at me. What's their fucking problem? I'm still walking towards the car, but now it's like I've got an audience studying my every move. There's a guy just standing there, gawping at me with his mouth hanging open. I'm looking right at him, but he doesn't seemed to have even noticed. Ah, that's why. He's not looking at my face: he's looking at my chest. Well, not so much "looking", more "drooling over". How dare he ogle me so blatantly?

"Hey, perv!" I say, not so loud that he has to cover his ears or gets knocked back by the force of my voice, but loud enough that everyone around can hear. "Haven't you ever seen a woman before? Why don't you just pull your cock out and have a wank while you’re at it?"

The guy looks embarrassed. He glances down at himself, and I follow his eyes and... I can see his erection tenting out the bottom half of his pyjamas. Having that kind of instant effect on men is not something I'm used to. I'm not sure I like it. Certainly not on this ugly, staring bastard. Oh god, he’s actually smiling at me now. Like he’s saying "I know you can see it, isn’t it great?" He’s not making any attempt to hide it or anything.

The guy is really unnerving me. I’m going to show the fucker just how wonderful I think he and his stupid prick are. I take a couple of steps towards him, and he just stands there, grinning, so fucking pleased with himself. I’m going to kick him where his brains are - in his crotch. I lift my foot between his legs, pretty hard. I can hear everything crunching as the arch of my foot hits him, and keeps going. I can feel bones just collapsing as I drive my toes up towards his torso.

The shock on his face is amazing, but I only get to see it for a split-second. The force of my kick has lifted him completely from the street. As my leg comes back down, he’s just rising and rising, flying backwards away from me. He’s not even screaming. Maybe he’s already dead. He’s turning in the air now, just about to disappear from sight over those roofs over there…

Someone’s screaming behind me. Now they’re all running again, trying to get away from me. I turn back towards the car I want to pick up and throw. A man crashes into a fat woman about five yards ahead of me, and the impact sends him reeling, staggering right into my path.

"Move!" I say, using my right arm to just shove him aside. I don’t push him hard, but it’s enough to make him fly for a couple of yards before he comes down and rolls helplessly into a fence. The street between me and the car is clear now, except for the two people slumped by the side of the vehicle. Everyone’s running and screaming behind me. I ignore them as I move towards the car.

It’s a man and a woman lying against the car. "Out of my way!" I shout at them as I get close. The woman looks up, sees me and screams. She starts to shuffle to the side. The man isn’t moving at all. His eyes are closed, so I have to do the moving for him. I bend down, grab him by the neck and fling him to the side. He rockets away from me. I’m not looking but I hear the "Slap!" as he hits the side of a house. Meanwhile the woman is still scuffling sideways, just screaming and screaming.

She’s almost out of reach, but when I stretch low, I just manage to get a hold of her ankle. Her cries get even louder, but I can still hear the crunch as I wrap my fingers around the bottom of her leg. I stand up, pulling the leg up with me so that her whole body is just dangling from the end of my arm. I’m still amazed by how light she feels, but I’ve got to get the screaming bitch away from me before she drives me completely insane, so I just toss her aside by her leg and watch as she goes spinning away over the houses on the far side of the street, her yells getting quieter and quieter as she soars away.

At last! Finally, I can get to the car. Now I can start taking care of those fucking helicopters. I’ll just reach for the top of the wheel-arch…

Oh! A bang behind me! Turn around, quick…

What the fuck is that?

It’s like a… like a mini space-rocket… fuck, it’s coming fast...

Oh! I felt that! In the centre of my flat belly. A bit like getting hit by a pillow. The bang was so loud though! It felt quite hot for a while, but not uncomfortable. I couldn’t see anything but bright flames for a second or so but I can see fine now. What’s this now? Hundreds and hundreds of tiny black rocks pouring down on me, bouncing off my head and my shoulders and the front of my big proud bust. A bit of car… I know! It’s the debris thrown up by the explosion now coming back to the ground...

I recognise the pieces of the car I was about to pick up. And the black bits? Of course! They’re bits of road. And, no wonder! There’s a massive hole in the road right in front of me! It must be three yards across and two yards deep. The lip of it passes right in front of my toes. That thing… that rocket... it must’ve ripped the ground up. But it didn’t even make me move an inch. The road under my feet and behind me is covered in little black rocks, but it’s not been torn up. My body must’ve shielded it from the blast. My indestructible body with it’s perfect arms and legs and tiny waist and its great big, round tits that stand so high and my lovely face with its sexy pouty lips stopped a rocket!

I can’t get over it! That’s me now. A perfect woman that even fucking missiles can’t scratch. There’s nothing, nothing that those fuckers in the helicopters can do to hurt me. But I can throw cars and kill them. And when I run out of cars, I’ll think of something else. Because every single one of those bastards is going to pay for trying to kill me. I mean, they’re shooting fucking rockets at me! I’m a sixteen year old girl for fuck’s sake!

But I’m not the little girl in an institution that they can push around any more. You can’t tell me what to do now. I can’t be locked up any more. You can’t bully me. Things have changed. I’m the one doing the pushing around now. It’s payback time, fuckers. You can hit me all you want with your sticks and bullets and missiles. There’s not a single thing you can do to stop me taking out every last fucking one of you…

I need something to throw! There’s nothing much left of the car I was about to grab when I heard that missile being fired. I’ll have to go for the one over there. At least there’s no more stupid people running around and screaming in my path. Now they’re all running around screaming some distance behind me. Well, not all of them… I can see a couple of bits of bodies dotted around the street. I guess the exploding rocket must’ve hurt them a lot more than it hurt me. Well, that’s what they get for bugging me!

Now, let me just grab this car. This is going to be for the fuckers who fired that rocket. Which of the helicopters was it? They’re all moving all the time… ah, yes. That one. You guys in there are about to get a fu-

Oh no! The same bastards have fired again! Here it comes, right at me… Looks like a giant prick coming straight for me. No time to grab the car and throw it before it hits... Those fuckers are really going to pay for th-

Ohhh! Right in the centre of my chest! Impact all over the front of my body, then warmth everywhere. Something bouncing off the underside of my left breast. Smoke pouring up from my cleavage. That wasn’t actually unpleasant. A bit like being briefly felt up by a guy who’s being gentle. I’m covered in dust though. Oh. And now half a ton of road fragments is coming down on top of me. I have to brush them off my head, my shoulders, the top of my chest…

Yuck! I’m covered in little bits of dirt. My tits are so big and firm, it’s like they make a little table under my chin. My ultra-tight sleeveless top covers the front of them, but all that flesh exposed by the low, low neckline is filthy. Trying to brush the crap off only gets rid of the biggest pieces. If I rub anymore, I’m just going to smear all the dust onto my skin. For fuck’s sake! I only just cleaned the last lot of dirt off! These bastards won’t even let me stay clean for thirty seconds…

I’ve got to stop the fuckers firing any more of those rockets at me. Enough is enough. Ah, shit! The car I was about to throw at them has been completely destroyed. There’s nothing at all left but a few bits of black metal. None of them look big enough to do any damage if I chuck them at that helicopter. This is getting really annoying! Every time I’m about to pick up a car to chuck it, those bastards blow it up and cover me with crap in the process.

Oh well, I’m just going to have to try with one of the larger chunks of road-fragments. Is that the biggest one I can find? It’s barely larger than my fist… I’ll have to throw it really hard to make up for its lack of size. Now, where’s the helicopter that fired those two rockets? Come on, where are you?.... No, not that one… Ah, yes, up there! Right then. Time to find out if a small rock can bring down a big chopper. I’ll pull my arm right back and then chuck it as hard as I can.

Oh! It made a bang as it left my hand. Wow! I really did throw it fast… and dead-on target to. Here we go… Well, I definitely heard it hit from here. In fact… it’s gone right through! I can see the rock, still on the same trajectory after it burst out of the other side of the machine. But it didn’t explode. The chopper’s wobbling about though. What’s going on? I’ll zoom in to get a better view…

Ah, no wonder! Eeuch! The rock went right through the pilot. There’s blood everywhere inside the cockpit. He’s slumped forward now. The helicopter’s gone into a dive. The other guys in there are screaming and trying to pull the body off the controls, but I don’t think they’ve got enough time. It’s headed straight for those roofs over there…. It’s so loud! They’re still fighting with the pilot’s corpse… Oh. Too late!

Wow, what an explosion! Two houses just disappeared behind a massive fireball. It’s clearing now. There’s rubble spewing down all over the street. Here comes a big chunk of wall, falling right on top of me. I felt that! The bricks just smashed as they hit my skull though and bits of them are falling all around my feet. I’m not even impressed by that anymore.

The flames where the chopper hit are dying down. There’s hardly anything left of the two houses it crashed on…. I did all that with just a little rock… Fantastic! I mean, those bastards fired two fucking rockets at me without even scratching me, and I’ve killed them all and destroyed two houses with nothing but a little chunk of tarmac. I’m so powerful!

This is great. I don’t need a car to bring down a helicopter… just a rock will do! And there’s plenty of those lying about… I’ll pick up another one… Yes, this one’s almost as big as the last one. Now to chose a target. There’s still so many of those fucking machines buzzing around in the sky like insects. I’ll just pick one… Let’s see… Who’s gonna die next… Oh, this is fun!

That one! Here goes… arm back and throw! Another perfect shot! Right through the windshield and out of the roof! The two guys in front got covered in glass fragments… they’re yelling and bleeding… but they’re still alive. The helicopter fell a bit but it’s stable again now. The pilot must’ve regained control. Shit! I’ll have to try again. Is there another nice rock around on the ground?...

Uh-oh! I know that sound! Another rocket’s been fired. Where is it… ah, behind me. No time to do anything before -

Oh crap! I’m covered in debris again. The thing hit the street about two yards in front of me. There’s an enormous new hole in the ground where it struck, big enough to drop a car in, with thick smoke still rising from it. The explosion just ripped up the road and tossed it half into the air and half at the front of my body. Everything big that hit me bounced off of course, and the heat just washed over me pleasantly enough like the last couple of times, but there’s dust and small fragments in my hair, on my face, my arms, my body and all over my bust again.

"You bastards!" I scream at the helicopter that fired the last missile. My voice is so loud, it even surprises me. All the windows that were still intact at this end of the street have shattered now. The chopper shook from side to side for a few seconds as the power of my voice hit it. If only I could shout loud enough to make it crash! Throwing rocks doesn’t seem to work every time. But I have to do something. I can’t just let those fuckers keep shooting at me…

There’s plenty of rocks to throw on the ground now. I shake my head to dislodge all the debris in my hair. Some bits go shooting off to the side with amazing speed, but I’m still coated with dust and muck. There isn’t a rag I can wipe myself with anywhere that I can see. Then again, I suppose any rags around here would have been vaporised by all the explosions…

I do my best to brush as much of the crap off my chest and my top as I can, then I bend down to select a rock for throwing. There’s plenty of fresh rubble from the last rocket-hit… there’s a good one. Now, where’s the helicopter that just fired at me… Which one is it?...

Hey! Where’s the one whose windscreen I smashed? Oh. It’s all the way over there! It’s not circling anymore…. it’s flying away! The fuckers! No way am I going to let them just waltz away after what they tried to do to me. I hurl the rock in my hand as hard as I can at the back of the retreating machine. There’s a boom as it shoots away and a distant "Clank!" as it hits the helicopter, followed immediately by the faint sound of glass breaking…

The rock must’ve gone right through the whole thing from the back and come out of one of the front side windows. I don’t think a cannon could have thrown that little chunk of road with so much power! And I must’ve hit something - or rather someone - because it’s going into a dive. The engine is getting whinier and whinier as it plummets now. It’s going to come down a couple of streets away… Oh, wow! I could feel the ground shake as it hit… There’s a ball of flame rising above the houses over there, lighting up the night sky. I can hear the sound of a wall collapsing too. And screaming. Lots and lots of screaming…

Another bang in the sky behind me! They still haven't worked out that those stupid missiles don't have any effect on me. I'm really getting pissed off with this. I'm only turning around to get a look at the chopper that fired it so I can make sure it's the next one to become a fireball. I couldn't give shit about the rocket that's zooming at me. All it's going to do is make a big bang, surround me with fire and throw loads of rocks and bits of metal at me. It's getting boring now...

Here it comes. Right into my face. The fucking bastards. The noise was tremendous and now there's fire everywhere but it felt more like one of those fuckers just leant out the side of his helicopter and spat at me than a missile exploding. There was this big "Clang!" as the nose of the thing smacked my right cheekbone, then a boom like thunder only much louder, then all those flames. Now there's the usual rain of bits of street, all over my head and the front of my body once more. At least there's not so much of it this time. I guess because the rocket hit me so high up, it didn't get to do so much damage to the road.

I'll look down to confirm and, yes, only a small scoop has been torn out of the street in front of me. Most of that seems to have ended up all over the front of my top. I'm getting completely fed up with picking bits of debris out of my cleavage. The top of my tits is still dusty even though I've brushed it twice now with my hand. Ach! This is so annoying! If I spend much longer trying to get the muck off me, I'm going to lose track of the bastards that just shot off that thing. Where are they now?...

Ah, over there. They're flying away from me. If I don't act quick, they might get away. Oh no they fucking won't! I need a rock... there's only little bits around here... I'll try up the street.... nothing here.... Shit! That helicopter getting further from me by the second... Finally! Found one. Right. Got to make this one count...

Hmmm... The ones that have worked best so far are the ones that have hit the pilots... I'll zoom in to aim better... Damn, I can't see the front of the chopper from this angle... Wait... it doesn't matter... I know which side the pilot sits on... I'll just aim for that part of the machine. Here goes, keep your eye on the target, Lisa... Now, throw it fucking hard!

Yes! I love being this powerful... and this accurate! I hit the helicopter exactly where I wanted and I can see the rock shooting off after having torn right out the other side. Perfect... I wonder if it hit anything on its way through... Oh yes! It's gone straight into a dive! It sounds like a rising siren as it plummets towards those houses over there... no it's going to miss them... it's going to come down somewhere behind them....

Bingo! Well, I heard it even if I didn't see it. And I did feel the ground shake a little bit, even though I'm far away from wherever it crashed. Look, the sky is orange over there... and now I can see the tips of flames showing above the houses in front. And more screaming in the distance... and burglar alarms and sirens too...

All that commotion because I threw a little rock... I feel... important. And powerful. Amazingly powerful. I can do almost anything I want. I'm looking around me. There's no-one else on this street now. There's craters in the road on all sides and piles of debris and twisted, smoking metal everywhere. The fronts of quite a few houses have collapsed, and small fires are burning here and there. So much damage!

And then I look at myself. I've been at, or at least near, the centre of every one of the explosions that have torn the street apart and yet there's not a scratch anywhere on my remarkable new body. My long, exposed arms and legs, so gorgeously proportioned, so feminine in appearance, have survived all that without incurring a scratch. My big, round breasts, so proud, standing out so high my torso, have borne the brunt of it all and remained as flawless as before. My narrow flat waist is unbruised. My perfect face is untouched in any way. I feel like a goddess!

But the dust and powdered debris all over the exposed portions of my fantastic chest and the front of my tight, sleeveless black top does not fit in with the way I feel. I make another few attempts at using my hands to sweep the crap away and I have to give up in utter frustration.

I look up at the sky. There's only two helicopters above me now. I can see two more heading away in the distance. "You fuckers have made me filthy!" I scream at them. My voice is so amazingly loud that two separate piles of rubble in the street collapse. A TV-aerial snaps off the roof of one relatively undamaged house and there's four or five trees that have only just stopped shaking. The nearest chopper wobbled for a moment too, but I think the pilot's got it under control now. Hmmm. There's a nice big chunk of road surface over there. It feels so light as I pick it up, but I know it must be pretty heavy... I mean it's bigger than my head...

That nearest helicopter is banking in the air now. Oh, from this angle I can see the pilot clearly through the side window. A nice big, easy target. I hardly have to bother to aim... I'll just pull my arm back and throw the lump of tarmac at him like this...

Yuck! I shouldn't have zoomed in with my eyes. I didn't need to see the gore splattering everywhere inside the cockpit or the blood fountaining from the pilot's decapitated neck. Still, another perfect shot... Down they come... Oooh! Spiralling this time... Wow! That is loud! It's spinning down really close... Right into the street about twenty yards in front of me. Oh! It shook the ground like a bomb. A massive orange flame is erupting out of it, heading right for me... It just feels warm, but I can't see anything now... yes I can! It looks like the front section of the helicopter and it's flying straight at me. Too late to move...


It just bounced off me - well of the front of my chest mostly - and pinged back into the flames. The fire is starting to recede a bit now. Most of it is off my body. Hey! My tits are on fire! No, wait... they can't be... I don't burn. And besides, it doesn't even feel hot. But there are flames all over the top of my chest. I must be covered in burning fuel. I know I'm not going to burn, but it's hard to think properly with this fire under my chin. I've got to get these flames out.

When I bend my head down, the fire is right in front of my face. I'll try blowing it out. It's burning quite fiercely so, I'll need to blow hard like this...

Oh my god!

The fire's gone out straight away. But that roaring sound.... what's that? That's me, it must be! And all the debris at my feet, lifting off the ground and shooting away from me, flying down the street, picking up more and more rubble and bits of burnt helicopter and pieces of smashed house as it goes, all that stuff getting swept away further and further down the road like a giant invisible broom was pushing it along really fast... That's all because I'm blowing... it must be!

Yes! It was! I stop exhaling and my lips close by themselves and straight away the invisible broom stops working and all the bits, big and small come down to the ground. Some of them roll on a bit, but they all come to a rest eventually. Wow! It all makes sense now... those winds when I was taking a deep breath earlier... the way I can smash windows and shake trees when I shout really loud... My lungs must be as awesomely strong as the rest of me!

I've got to try that again. This time I'm going to pick a target and see what happens when I blow at it... What can I aim at…. There’s nothing much on the street in front of me now so I’ll turn around… I can’t see anything but a big pile of rubble, as tall as me and as wide as a car at its base. That’ll have to do. I’ll see what happens when I blow at it like this...

There’s that whooshing sound, but nothing’s happening. I can feel my hair moving about a bit, but I don’t see the rubble moving. I try blowing a bit harder…

Oh shit - wow! That’s it! The "whoosh" became a roar and the top layer of the pile of debris just took off away from me. I keep exhaling like that and more and more of the broken bits of car and house are lifting from the heap and shooting off down the street. It’s amazing! Stuff’s flying for miles down the road without even coming down. That’s the last of the pile now cleared. Or rather that’s the last of the pile that I’ve just blown away…

Fuck! That was so easy! I’ll stop blowing… I keep thinking I should be panting for breath but I feel totally normal, like I could make another hurricane right away if I wanted to. All the bits of brick and car that were flying down the road are starting to crash down now, skidding away for a bit before they finally stop. It’s amazing to think I did all that just by blowing!

Without the roar I was making and the noise of things raining back down onto the road, the sound of helicopter engines is everywhere again. I look up from the street and there’s one of them, above the roofs to my right. I’ll zoom in to get a better look at the cockpit. Ugh! The pilot’s ugly! What about the one next to him…. Hmm…. Not much better. He’s holding a rifle….

Oh! He’s aiming at me. Another fucker trying to kill me! Who the fuck does he think he is? I’m going to find a nice big rock for that bastard. Come on…. I need something nice and hard to throw at that fucker before he shoots at me… Too late! I heard the bang just before I felt the tap on my shoulder like someone trying to get my attention. Well, he’s got my attention and I’m going to make sure that’s the last thing he ever gets.

Shit! There’s nothing worth throwing around here… It’s all been blown away… Wait a moment! I might not need a rock…. If I unintentionally made one of those choppers wobble by shouting at it earlier, I might be able to do a whole lot better by deliberately blowing at it. It’s got to be worth a try. I pucker up like I’m going to send a kiss to the bastard who’s shooting at me from the helicopter. Now I’ll just blow at him as hard as I can.

There’s that "whoosh"…. Now it’s a roar already. Oh! The wall of air must’ve just hit the chopper side-on. The whole thing’s started to rocket off sideways.

Ha ha! Now that is funny…. The bastard’s dropped his rifle. He and the pilot are shouting. I’m going to try moving my head a tiny bit so that the jet of my breath only hits the front portion of the machine, like this…

Yes! That’s excellent…. The helicopter’s started spinning round and round in the air, faster and faster. The two men in there are screaming and I’m just standing here, blowing at them, not getting tired or anything, making their chopper rotate just with my lung-power!

Hmm… I wonder if I could make it crash by aiming my breath just above the top of the machine? Let’s see…. Ah yes, I’m definitely pushing it downwards. I’ll just lower my head and use the force of the hurricane I’m making to force the thing to ground…. It’s so easy! I can make the chopper descend faster and faster just by leaning forwards... Down they come…

Wow! What an explosion! Serves them right for shooting at me. That seemed to make everything vibrate - the street, the remaining houses…. And those flames from the crash-site! Much higher than when the other helicopters came down. Must’ve been the extra force pushing that last one down. Awesome to think that was just me blowing…. I’m so fucking powerful now.

I can do anything I want. And what I want to do right now is make all those other choppers crash like the last one. Because that’s what all those bastards deserve.

Where are they now? It’s hard to see with all those flames leaping up into the sky. I’ll try and tune in to the sounds of their engines…. Much quieter now…. There’s one over there… Shit! He’s a long way away… Isn’t there one nearer? No. That other one is even further….

They’re running away! All gathering over there and heading off in that direction. You fuckers can’t get away from me. I’m pushing out my lips and I’m going to blow with everything I’ve got.

The sound of the air rushing is so loud I have to tune it out. Nothing’s happening to the helicopters though…. No… wait…. The one nearest me is definitely wobbling. But I can’t make it spin. When I move my head to the side, it just stops wobbling. Shit! They must be too far away.

What can I do…. They’re getting further from me every second. Think, Lisa! Shit, I don’t know…. Maybe I can chase after them. I was running pretty fast earlier. I can’t think of any other plan, so that’s what I’ll have to try. Just chase after them. But they’re on the other side of those houses… I’ll lose more ground running around them…


That house isn’t much higher than the wall I jumped over earlier.... And I cleared that wall with loads to spare. Maybe I can leap up onto the roof from here. I’ll crouch down and then just spring up off my feet like this…

It’s almost like flying! I’m soaring up away from the road, towards the house. There’s the roof now, but it’s going to pass right under me. Or rather, I’m going to pass right over the roof. Brilliant! I’ve cleared a row of houses with a jump. Starting to fall now. Shame, I was enjoying that. Here comes the street rushing up to meet me.

A perfect landing! Easy! I hardly even felt it. The tarmac under my feet has cracked a little, but I’m standing, perfectly balanced. Now where’s that column of helicopters? OK. Over there. It’s hard to tell if I’m any closer now. And there’s another row of houses in the way. I’ll just have to leap over those as well. Here I go….

The feeling as I’m rising up on one of these jumps is fantastic. Watching the world get smaller and smaller beneath my feet, knowing that coming down won’t hurt… Looking down on the roof of a building that I was staring up at a few seconds before - that’s an awesome feeling.

I can see over the top of the roof now and…

Oh shit. There isn’t a street on the other side. Just more houses. I’ve stopped gaining height now too. I’m beginning to fall and I can see I’m not going to clear the buildings. I’m going to land on the roof of that house. Any moment now… Got to bend my knees to absorb….

Whoops! My left foot went right through the tiles up to my knee and I nearly lost my balance. The slates under my other toes have been smashed, but I haven’t broken through them. So, I’ve landed on another roof. I can still see the helicopters. There’s a road over there as well, which leads roughly in the same direction they’re headed. I’ll leap down from here…

Careful, Lisa! I nearly fell again as a chunk of roof collapsed just as I pushed off it. I’ve made it down though. Now, I’ll cross this garden, jump that fence… That was great! I hurdled a six-foot wall without breaking stride… Now that road should be on the other side of those trees. Ooops! I caught that trunk with my shoulder. That was some noise, although it only felt as if I’d barely brushed against it.

Oh! I guess I didn’t just brush it. I must have hit the tree trunk full-on with my smooth shoulder.


Wow. The tree was big and heavy enough to smash in the roof of that parked car as it fell, but I snapped it’s trunk in half without trying! No time to think about that now. I’m on the road. I can see those choppers again, in the sky. Let’s see how fast I can run…

I’m going faster and faster. The trees are zipping past on my left like I was watching them from a moving car. So I must be running as fast as a car! No, wait…. There’s a car on the road about fifty yards ahead of me. Make that twenty. It’s level now. Fuck, I must be running twice as fast as it! I’ve left it behind me. I can see it shrinking as I look over my shoul-

What was that? Oh! I’ve just ran right into a concrete bridge support. Actually, right through a concrete bridge support. It must be a yard thick and I’ve punched a Lisa-sized hole right through it. It just felt like I was running through something soft…. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I just kept running, my amazing new body smashing everything in its path. I mean… I smashed everything in MY path. I’m covered in bits of concrete and dust.

Oh, there’s a small bit of jagged stone lodged in my amazing cleavage. I’ll brush it off. Ach! I’m filthy again. My chest, my arms, my top, my hair… But I can’t waste time on that now. I’m pretty sure I’m getting closer to the nearest helicopter. Got to keep chasing after it. Got to keep running, faster… faster…

I’m zooming up on another car now. It’s so slow compared to me. In the space of a couple of strides I can just sprint past it as if it was stationary. I won’t look back at it in case I run into something else…

I’m definitely gaining ground on that chopper. Another few minutes of this and I’ll be close enough to bring the bastards down…. What’s that ahead? Another road cutting across the one I’m running along. No, it’s a T-junction. The road I’m on ends there. But the helicopters are still heading in that direction. I’m close now. There’s a wall on the far side of the junction. I can’t see what’s on the other side so I’ll just leap over it and hope for the best…

Shit! There’s a massive drop on the other side. I’m falling towards some kind of scrap-yard. And falling and falling. It has to be sixty foot at least. Here comes the ground now…

Uh-oh! I landed on my feet but they’re both ankle-deep in smashed concrete. Oh, I can pull them out without any trouble. I just ground some more stone under my heel getting my foot free. Now, which direction do I need to go in? Over there. Fuck, there’s nothing but banks of car-wrecks in that direction. I’m going to have to get out of this scrap-yard. I’ll leap over that pile of battered chassis… It’s so easy jumping into the sky! I feel so powerful doing that. There go the cars, beneath me. Now I can see where I am in relation to the helicopters…

They’re over there, to my right. I have to keep heading in that direction. Now I’m temporarily airborne, I should check out the lie of the land to work out the best route. There’s another road over there which runs more-or-less where I want to head. I should make my way on to it once I land…

Here I go now, starting to fall now, right towards that massive greenhouse. Oh shit. I didn’t notice that before. This is going to be loud…

There’s glass everywhere! My soles smashed straight through the roof, followed by the rest of me, and of course there’s not a scratch anywhere on me. I came down onto a pile of broken panes, whilst more sharp fragments fell down from the busted ceiling on top of me, feeling like light rain as they bounced off the top of my head. Where’s the door to this thing? Ah, fuck it. I don’t have time for the door. I’ll just run right through that wall, letting my body crash through the side of the greenhouse in a shower of glass like this...

There’s bits of glass falling from me as I run but I’m going to ignore them. I don’t need to look which way the street is because I can already hear the traffic. Just on the other side of that hedge. I’ll hurdle it. Easy! But now I’m coming down smack in the middle of the road. I suppose I should check for on-coming traf-

Shit! There’s a huge lorry that’s barrelling down the road right at me. I should be scared I suppose but not anymore. Not after everything that’s happened to me tonight… everything that’s still happening to me... I don’t have to move for any fucking lorry. The fucking lorry can move for me!

Despite the glare of the headlights, I can see the face of the driver.

"Get the fuck out of my way!" I shout at him.

He didn’t hear. Then again, I don’t think he’s even seen me yet…

Oh. Now he has. Too late. No way is he going to be able to stop that thing in time. The lorry comes skidding towards me. It’s massive, but I’m not going to move. I’m not scared of it. I’m just angry that it’s getting between me and the choppers I’m chasing. As the front of the big truck looms at me, I lift my arms. I need to time this very carefully. I’m going to let the lorry hit my hands and then swing my arms in the same instant. Here goes…

Oh yes! Awesome! My arms were buried up to the elbows in on-coming truck when I swung them. That gave me enough grip to lift the entire vehicle, overpower its momentum and then fling it aside as if it was just a empty paper bag. A thirty-foot long, ten-foot high, eight foot wide paper bag.

But paper bags don’t crash down like that. It’s landed on its side, about twenty yards down the road, shaking the ground and then scrapping along the tarmac. Suddenly, seeing it lying across three lanes of the highway, I realise that it’s a massive monster of a machine. And I just swatted it aside with my long, perfect arms. How powerful does that make me?

Powerful enough not to take any shit from anyone or anything ever again. Starting with those helicopters…

What’s that smash? Oh. A car has crashed into the exposed undercarriage of the lorry. Another car’s screeching and spinning across the road...

Fuck them! I’ve got business to take care of.

I can see the line of helicopters again, and I’m off after them, running down the side of the road, overtaking cars. Now I can clearly see that I’m catching up with the last machine in the column. Another minute or so and I’ll be close enough…

There’s a bridge across the road ahead. I’m going to have to swerve to avoid running into the support column, like this…

Ooops! I ran right into a steel lamppost. My right breast hit the pole smack-on and just knocked the whole thing down flat onto the road. Some concrete fragments sprayed up at me. I guess they came from where the base of the lamp was ripped out of the ground. Oh! And a shower of sparks all over my churning legs from the lamp-end as it smashes on the tarmac. I keep running and it’s already some way behind me now.

The lamppost didn’t slow me down at all. I’m getting nearer and nearer to those helicopters. If I can keep running down this road like this… well, I don’t seem to be getting tired…. Wow! I’ve just realized I’m not out of breath at all. This is amazing! I feel like I could keep sprinting at this speed all night.

But I don’t need all night to catch up with the bastards. A couple more minutes should do…

Ah fuck! Fuck! Why is it that every little thing I try to do gets fucked up? The choppers are flying straight on but the road ahead bends away in another direction. If I keep going straight, I’ll run off the side of the road and then there’s all these fucking great big buildings right in the way.

The helicopters are flying over them now. A whole bunch of company offices, all chrome and glass and big illuminated logos. Tall buildings… that one’s got… 36 storeys… Wow, I counted them fast! But too high for me to jump over… And they are absolutely smack bang in my path. This is so fucking annoying! Just when I thought I was going to get within reach… Well, I’m not going to run around all those buildings and lose all the ground I’ve gained on the choppers.

I’ve just remembered something from school. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Fuck me, I didn’t think anything I ever heard there would be useful. But it’s true. The quickest way to get around those buildings is to go right through them in a straight line. I’ve already run through a concrete pillar and a lamppost without getting slowed down. Now I’m just going to have to run through a building. Or two.

No way am I going to let those bastards in those helicopters get away!


Conceptfan, Mar. 2007.

The story so far...

Lisa Reed has burst out of juvenile detention after receiving a strange visitation from an extraterrestrial presence which transformed her into a stunning superhuman. She's out of confinement but she can't enjoy her freedom as her uncontrollable anger issues - the reason the aliens selected her - keep pushing her into conflict with the rest of the world. This is bad news for the rest of the world, as the sixteen-year-old delinquent's newly-acquired superpowers are proving to be too much for anyone or anything that, intentionally or not, gets in her way.

Her senses have been hugely enhanced. She's smashed through walls, and survived bullets, huge explosions and poison gas without any discomfort. She's thrown cars and men around with ease, and caused massive destruction. Now she's chasing after a group of desperately fleeing helicopters, furiously seeking to punish the occupants for using their high-powered weaponry against her. She doesn't care that all their rockets and grenades failed to even scratch her fabulous body. She doesn't care that she's run out of road as she pursues the aircraft, matching the speed generated by state-of-the-art engines with just her glorious work-of-art legs. She doesn't care that a huge office building now blocks her path. All she cares about is punishing the helicopter crews....



I'm almost up to the point where the road streaking beneath my feet bends sharply away from the helicopter's flight-line. I know I'm running faster than a car because I've overtaken so many of them. I'm also running faster than the 'copters, because the distance to the last one in the group is definitely much shorter than it was. It's really annoying that I'm not underneath it yet, or close enough to try and knock it out of control by blowing at it, but at the rate I'm catching up with it I will be pretty soon. It's pretty amazing to think that I've been running so fast for so long - I must've covered miles and miles! And despite that, I'm not thinking about stopping and catching my breath, slumping to my knees, panting like a long-distance runner at the end of a race. No, instead of gasping for air, I feel like I'd be able to easily blow a sustained hurricane if I wanted. I'm not tired, I'm not short of breath, I'm not sweating. Those fuckers in the helicopters probably thought that they could wear me out by firing rockets at me and then running away. I'll show them who's going to last longest!

They probably also thought that by flying away from the road, over that great motherfucker office block, they could get away from me. Like they could try and blow me up as many times as they wanted and then just fuck off home without any comeback. How fucking dare they! I've made up my mind now. I smashed through the walls of the prison. I smashed through a motorway support pillar a few moments ago and now I'm going to smash right through that building and out the other side and then I'm going to sort out every single one of those bastards in the helicopters. It's starting to loom up at me now as I race along the road towards the bend. It's huge. I can't really be thinking about just hurling myself at the side of a building, but I am. I'm going to do it. The road ends in about ten strides. Then there's a gap, I can see it now as I approach... So fast, but somehow I've still got time to take it all in, to measure the distances, to judge the best way to do this.

The barrier around the outer curve of the road is about three feet high. On the other side, there's a steep, grassy bank that forms one side of a deep artificial trench. It's about five yards to the opposite bank, and then a further twenty yards to the building itself. Up above, the last helicopter is just vanishing above the flat, antenna-riddled roof of the giant block. I'm fairly sure that's too high for me to jump, so I'm going to select a window on the fifteenth floor... say.... that one. Now, without breaking stride, I'm just going to launch myself at it when I get within a stride of the edge of the road. Right about... Now!

Freaking cool! I could feel the surface of the road cracking and crumbling beneath my foot as I pushed off and now I'm soaring, the night air rushing through my hair as I zoom towards the building. The trench passes below me. I'm still gaining height. There's the window I picked out, but I'm level with it now, still rising and still a good ten yards away. Looks like I'm not going to hit at the fifteenth floor. Or the sixteenth. Or the seventeenth, eighteenth or nineteenth. The thing is, I'm not going to hit the twentieth floor windows either. I've misjudged this a bit. I'm going to slam into the side of the block just below the windows of the twenty-first. Instead of smashing through the window I'm going to hit actual building. I'm not scared - I'm pretty sure that nothing can hurt me anymore. But I am annoyed that I'm going to get slowed down and the helicopters are going to get further away. Too late to do anything about my trajectory now. Here comes the wall...

Oh! Fucking yeah! I just exploded through that concrete like it wasn't even there! My body crashed full-on into the side of the building, tits first, and kept going! There's thousands of chunks of wall spraying out in front of me, tearing through some kind of big office. The chunks are breaking desks and computer screens, denting metal filing cabinets, but there isn't even a mark on my exposed arms. Just a few little bits of concrete wedged in my massive cleavage, and a load of dust covering the shelf of my chest. And I'm still travelling. The wall has hardly slowed my leap. Maybe it was because I was running so fast when I took off, but I'm still moving forwards. Not only forwards... I'm still rising!

I was checking out the rocks flying through the room and the crap all over my tits and I didn't notice that the rubble-strewn carpet was getting further away from the soles of my feet. Or that the ceiling was getting closer to my head. There's a bright flash and massive shower of sparks as my forehead carves through a lighting fixture. I barely even felt that. For a brief instant, my head is in some kind of space full of cables and pipes between the fake ceiling and the floor above. Then I'm carving through solid concrete once more, this time head-first. I can feel the solid material crumbling against my cranium and the ever-growing mass of dust filling my hair. It doesn't hurt. It isn't even uncomfortable. But I do have to blink several times before I can see again. Suddenly, I'm looking at a completely different view - the floor above the one on which I entered.

I think the upwards power of my jump is nearly used up now. I'm barely gaining any height. But the sideways power is still going strong. The hole I smashed with my head between the twenty-first and twenty-second storeys is becoming a channel. My head and torso are through, now it's the turn of my flat waist to cleave through. The whole front of my body is caked in dust and small fragments as my knees dislodge another section of floor, or ceiling, or whatever. My feet tear out the last chunk and I am completely free. I'm moving parallel to the shredded carpet now, my jump peaking with my bare toes barely six inches above the floor. I can hear crashes and thuds behind me because of the various bits of building sent flying and falling in my wake. Now, finally, I'm starting to descend, but there's hardly any distance until my feet touch carpet.

At the end of such an awesome leap, the landing is a bit of a let-down. I don't even have to bend my knees to absorb the impact, I don't even have to use my arms to hold my balance. One moment I'm crashing through the side and then the middle of the building, the next I'm standing in some shitty open-plan office on the twenty-first floor. There's a long, wooden desk right in front of me. I reach for it with my left hand. The way the wood creaks under the pressure of my fingers as I grab hold of the edge reminds me how strong I am now. I don't even have a microsecond of doubt as I flick my wrist and toss the huge heavy bit of furniture aside. The whole thing rockets to the side of me. A bunch of computer monitors that were on top of the desk get crushed between the splintering wood and a wall but I don't even turn to look at the freshest destruction. Through the windows straight in front of me, I can see the line of fleeing helicopters. I'm just relieved that I haven't lost any ground on them because of this stupid fucking building.

With the big desk out of the way, there's nothing between me and the far-side windows except for some enormous white and grey rectangular thing. Some kind of office machine, probably a massive photocopier or something. Like I give a shit what it is. It's about half the size of a car. I'm not even going to bother tossing it aside like I did with the table. I'm just going to run right through it and out those windows after the 'copters. I'm sprinting again, across the ruined office. Mid-stride, my knee shatters the plastic casing of the machine, then my other foot hits the more solid mechanism inside. There's a massive cloud of black dust, some kind of dry ink or something. I see it coating my legs and shorts and my waist as my arms crash though the windows, followed by the rest of me. Shit! I'm fucking filthy again!

I look down at the my lower half, to see how much of a mess the horrid, jet-black, flour-like powder has made. Fuck me, I'm a long way up! I should've realised when I jumped out through the twenty-first floor windows that there would most likely be a big drop on the other side. I'm in free fall, hurtling towards a big car park below. It's the middle of the night so there are no cars to break my fall. Just a pristine tarmac surface which cracks and yields as my feet hit. This time, I do, instinctively, bend my knees as I hit. I keep my balance but I notice that I'm buried up to the top of my ankles in road surface. It's awesome that I've fallen from twenty floors up and landed so hard that I've smashed the road surface without even getting a bruise but, once the noise of falling glass and rubble stops, the sound of overhead engines focuses my mind on the chase again. I kick up a shower of rock as I pull my feet free and start running once more. There's a wire fence at the end of the car park which I hurdle as if it's inches rather than yards high and then I'm sprinting across some kind of field. It's overgrown, with grass and weeds almost up to my knees but that doesn't seem to be slowing me at all. In fact I'm almost close enough to the last helicopter in the group now. Almost... Getting closer all the time.

I can see the little propeller on the tail. I can see the whole underside of the thing. I can't see the jerks inside from this angle, but I'll bet they're watching me following them. I'll bet they saw me going right through that building and crapped themselves when I came out the other side still on their tails. They're probably panicking trying to come up with another stupid plan. Probably asking more of their friends to come and shoot at me or something. Actually... that's an idea. I managed to hear what one of those arseholes was saying earlier. Maybe I can tune in my hearing now, and find out if they're saying anything. I should be able to do that without losing any speed as I chase after them. Yes... it's working... I can hear voices...

"...negative. We've been in the red too long already." What the fuck does that mean?

"We're just going to have to improvise. Any port in a storm, and all that."

"Not just anywhere, sir. Command were very clear about us not leading that bitch to any of our installations or significant civilian locations." I can't see the fucker inside the 'copter who just said that, but he's fucking dead, whoever he is. I wish I was close enough to kill him right now but it might take another minute of sprinting. I couldn't give a fuck about whatever they are talking about - installations and all that shit. That prick is going to die because he called me a bitch, the fucking bastard. Now the other one is talking again:

"Listen. It's very simple. We are out of fuel. If we don't put down SOMEWHERE in the next minute or so we're going to stall and crash."

"And if we do that bitch is going to tear us apart!" Too fucking right I am. It seems they've run out of juice way, way before me. I feel like I could keep running like this, through as many buildings as I like, all night long. But it sounds like I won't have to. I hadn't thought about them running out of petrol. The dickheads.

"OK. Here's the plan. I'll bring us down to about ten feet. You two bail and run in opposite directions. Then I'll touch down a bit further on and make a break myself. Anyone got any better ideas?"

I'm not hearing any suggestions to improve on that guy's plan. But I've already got a plan of my own. Mine's better because it doesn't involve any of those fuckers getting away. I'll just keep running, gaining on them little by little, watching for them to start descending. By then I should be close enough to-

Shit! What the fuck was that? Oh. I just ran straight into a tree. The thick, solid trunk just kind of exploded as my big tits hit it full-on. I'm so fucking powerful! I'm starting to love how anything that gets in my way gets obliterated. I can just see the top part of the tree - leaves, branches and all - spinning through the air over my shoulder. I feel the ground shake as it crashes down, but by then I'm already looking at the helicopter again.

Oh! That complicates things. Seems the chopper I was listening to isn't the only one with a petrol problem. The one at the front of the line, way in the distance, is coming slowly down. It's dark, and I can't see anything on the ground where it looks like it's going to land, but as there's no lights or anything I guess it's another empty field. It's amazing how quickly the gap to it is closing now that they're not flying flat-out away from me anymore.

A change in the tone of an engine overhead draws my attention. Another helicopter is peeling away from the line. It's also losing height. Ah fuck! That's their plan... they're going to spread out as they land... some of the arseholes are going to jump and run... they'll going to be scattered all over the place and moving in different directions. They must be doing that to try and stop me getting to all of them. The fuckers! There is no fucking way I am going to let a single one of these shits get away from me after what they did earlier. I've got to be clever, got to watch each of those helicopters really carefully, see where they come down, make sure I spot every single one of the bastards so I know where they all are...

Now they're switching off their lights! They really don't want me to be able to see where they are landing. Just as well I can see so well in the dark now. It's no trouble at all for me to keep track of them even after they kill the illuminations. Ah, the one nearest me is on its descent. Now I'm eating up the distance to them with every step. It still coming down. Gotta make sure no-one jumps without me spotting them. But I've also got to keep an eye of each of the other machines as well. The one furtherest away is just hovering now... wait... one of the bastards has leapt out. He's rolling on the ground. Now, he's up and running. He's so slow compared with me! Concentrate, Lisa... Make a mental note of the direction he's running in... OK, got it. Now there's another jumper from that machine. He rolls, gets up and then falls again. He's up but he's hardly moving at all. He's limping really badly. He must've hurt himself, maybe broken a leg or something, when he jumped out. I just jumped from a window twenty times that height onto tarmac without getting a scratch!

That guy's obviously not going to go very far. I'm checking the others now. One prick is jumping out over there. He's heading that way. I'll call the direction he's sprinting in two o'clock. Oh, and one over there. He's running towards four o'clock. The closest chopper is just hovering now. I'm really really close to it. I can see a head emerge. I'm staring at it because I think it might belong to the arsehole who called me "bitch" a moment ago. The rest of him pops out, drops to the ground and rolls. Then he starts running. Screw making a "mental note" about his bearing. I'm running towards him, chewing up the distance to him as if I was in a racing car and he was standing still.

I'm a couple of strides away already. He suddenly becomes aware of me. Maybe he heard my last couple of steps. Who cares? He glances over his shoulder and even in the dark, unlit night, I can tell the blood is draining from his face. "Oh, fuck, no!" he gasps, sharply changing direction as he sprints, as though that would be enough to lose me. I just adjust my own run, much more gracefully. His swerve means it takes me an extra half-stride to reach him, so when I grab him by the shoulder, it's not at arm's length. We're much closer than that. To lift him by my one-handed hold, I have to first grip tight. There's a nice crunch from his muscle and bone as I do that and he screams. Good.

Now that I've got him secured I just raise my hand, lifting him off the ground. He's as light as a sheet of paper to me. I'm so freaking strong! I've got him with his belly level with my eyes, his boots thrashing hopelessly against my thighs. He's still screaming because of the shoulder I'm crushing with my right hand so I give him a little shake that makes his arms and legs fly around crazily for a few seconds. It's nothing the fucker doesn't deserve.

What was that? The sound of a dull thud behind and to my left. I turn my head quickly to look. Another bastard has jumped from the same helicopter as the one I'm dealing with. I'm just running after him, with my right arm raised over my head, carrying the jerk in my hand, his legs flailing wildly. The screaming's stopped at least, and in no time I've caught up with my target. I grab this one with my free hand around his neck from behind.

I pull him sharply upwards and backwards off his feet. He yells so I'll give him a shake. Ha! His arm shot out to the side because of the force of my juddering and there was a terrific crack as it struck my big round left breast. One of his bones must've snapped on impact. It felt like a little tap on my chest but it was obviously enough to break something! I wasn't even trying! My body is so awesome now! It's an incredible feeling of power but the moment is kinda being ruined by the guy's agonised screaming. I squeeze his neck until the yelling stops and it goes crunch and the head rolls to the side, so I just drop him. What about the one in my other hand? He's been quiet for a while. I'll turn my wrist and lower him a bit so I can check his face. I can't tell is he's dead or unconscious. I suppose I could listen for his heartbeat but it's easier to just toss him hard over my shoulder so I do that instead.

Shit, I need to get a move on. There's guys running all over the place now. There's three helicopters already on the ground. One of them I can see, even in the unlit night, is empty. But the other two are at the wrong angle so it's impossible for me to tell from here if anyone is still inside. I'm running towards the nearest one and I'm so fast I'm there already. I'll give it a big kick underneath the body. Wow! I must've found the sweet spot. My bare foot connected and the whole fucking thing exploded. One chunk flew straight up in the air, the other smashed into the front of my body with a clang almost as loud as the explosion. The burning metal just bounced off me. If anything it's burnt off some of that black powder I was covered with, leaving me less dirty than before.

Oh! The chunk that flew upwards just crashed onto the top of my head. Now it's sliding off, still in flames. It was like standing under light rain, but without the inconvenience of getting wet. I'm already charging at the next chopper. I run right through it, letting my body smash and tear it apart, glass and metal flying around me as I burst through without even slowing down because now I'm going after the men running in every direction away from their abandoned helicopters.

I'm so much faster than these jerks! I've chased down this guy in no time at all. I'm running alongside and now in front. I'll just stop and extend my left arm and... eugh! That wasn't what I meant but it'll do. I thought my arm would stop him in his tracks but it actually took his head off. I'm wiping the blood as I sprint for the next one. Again, I'm right behind him in no time. I'll try jumping on his back. That didn't work. I've just pushed him, face first, down to the ground. Now I'm falling on top of him. And.. yup, there's the crunch as I come down almost sitting on his back. I stand up quickly.

Which one next? There's one over there, one over there, the limping one still back over there and... ah... that one. Here we go... I'll scoop down and grab him by the back of his trousers. He's dangling from my grip now, trying to grab my legs. I swing my arm back and just toss him as high as I can. Oh yeah! Look at him go! His scream is fading as he rockets skyward. It's so cool, seeing the effects of my amazing strength, but I haven't got time to wait for him to come back down to Earth. Not while what's left of his team still thinks it can get away from me.

I've got to go for the one furthest away before it's too late. I guess before I got all these powers, he'd already be out of view. Especially as it's night and the only light is the glow of some town on the horizon over there. Despite the distance, I can catch up with him no trouble at all. I'm going to try and trip him up by tapping his ankle as he runs. Like... this. Oh. Well that's stopped him running. OK, it does look pretty messy as my bare foot did kind of chop his lower leg in half which explains why he's screaming like a girl as he rolls around on the ground. I'm going to use the sole of the same foot to just step on his chest and... crunch! No more screaming.

Now, there's the dude over on the far side of the next field. If I chase him down with a wide curved run, I can take out his friend over there on my way. No time for anything fancy with the first one, I just slap him on the head as I sprint past. Yuck, that was like a sledgehammer hitting a rotting watermelon. I'm shaking and brushing bits of him off me as I leap a hedge separating two fields and bear down on the next target. I kick him between the legs from behind without even having to adjust my stride. This one doesn't yell. Probably he didn't have time to make a noise. He just went crunch, and flew up into the air. He hasn't landed yet but I've already spun on my heels and zoomed away.

I can only see three more. Two runners and the limping guy. Is that all of them? Think, Lisa. I can't let any of these bastards get away. You don't fucking shoot at me without paying the price. The days when I got pushed around are totally over. Things have changed, world. Now, I'm super fast, and super freaking strong and nothing can hurt me. I'm in charge now. Fuck yeah. That means I'm the one who does the punishing. And I'm going to punish every last arsehole who thinks he can take a pop at me.

I've just got to think back... Have I let any of those bastards get away? I know I've dealt with all the ones I spotted jumping from their helicopters. There's bits of one of them still dripping off my left forearm. I'm looking as hard as I can all around but I can't spot any others. So I'm going take out the three I can see.

I'm alongside one of them already. I reach for his trailing arm as he runs and snatch it by the wrist. Then I can just yank him towards me like this and, eww, gross! My pull took him off his feet and twisted him so that his chest smashed into mine with a loud squelch and then a load of blood just spurted from his mouth into my face. I flip him around, one-handed, and wipe the worst of it off onto the back of his jacket, using his whole body as a tissue before tossing him aside.

That only leaves the bastard with the busted leg and one more still running. I'm headed towards the last runner now. Oh. He's seen me. Oh. He's got a little gun. Like that's going to do anything to me! I know now that even a massive rocket smashing into my face and exploding doesn't hurt. I like this new feeling of not being scared of anything or anyone. I like it a lot.

Nah, I'm not scared of guns. They can't do anything to me. But this jerk thinks they can. Why else would he be pointing his at me right now? He's trying to threaten me with it. And that really pisses me off. Big time. I snatch the pistol from him. Ha! I got two fingers as well as the gun. He's falling to his knees, clutching his hand as it fountains blood. "You wanna play guns, arsehole?" I ask. It's so cool that I'm not even a little short of breath when I speak even though I've been sprinting after helicopters for ages, but I won't let that distract me from punishing the fucker.

I'm going to shoot the bastard with his own gun to teach him a lesson but as I try and get a grip on the pistol, the metal just bends and bulges like clay in my hand. So I'll just toss the misshapen blob at his face. Yeah, I should've realised it would go right through his face and out the other side. Not my problem. Now all that's left is the one limping over there. I'll just take another sweeping view of the fields around to make sure there aren't any others. Nope, I really cannot see anybody else moving. Just lots of bodies. Serves them all right.

Limping guy is crying as I get near to him. I'm not even bothering to run because he's so slow. "Please!" he croaks. "Don't kill me!"

What? Is that all he's got to say for himself? Not even an apology for firing a fucking rocket at me, or shooting at me? Just "don't kill me"? Who the fuck does he think he is?

"So it's alright for you and your friends to try and kill me," I point out, "but I'm supposed to just stand there and take it? What the fuck?!?"

"I was..." he gasps... "We were... all... following orders."

"Oh, right," I say in my sarcastic voice. "So that makes it all right then."

"Please, I don't want to die..." he whimpers.

"You should've thought about that before you attacked me." I tell him. And I mean it. I don't care about the mess anymore. These jerks have pushed me too far. I carefully tear a strip off his shirt with my left hand and then I give him a backhand to the cheek with my right that explodes his head. As his body slumps, I use the strip of shirt to wipe his blood and brains off my arm before dropping it at my feet.

Finally, I've sorted out the helicopter bastards. Every last one of them. No-one gets away with fucking with me now I've got superpowers. This is how it's going to be from now on. You piss me off and I'll chase you down and rip your fucking h-

What was that noise? It came from over there, beyond the next field. I can see a high hedge but I can't see what's on the other side as it's slightly uphill from here. Wait... there's some kind of light. I just caught a glimpse of it through the hedge. And the sound again... Fuck! Somebody's starting up a motorbike over there. Shit, is that one of the fuckers I've been chasing? I thought I'd got them all. Has one of them made it over there and found a fucking bike? I'm trying to think... did I see anyone running in that direction... I don't think so... Maybe I didn't spot one of them... I can't be sure. Shit!

Whoever it is they've got the motorbike started. I can hear which way it's going, and I can also see the glimpses of headlight that make it through the thick hedge. There must be a road or something along there. No! No-one gets away! I'm back on the chase again. Good thing I don't seem to get tired. I'm tearing across the fields, diagonally, heading towards the moving bike. When I reach the big hedge at the top, I can't be bothered timing a leap over it. I keep running. I'm getting through the thick mass of twigs and leaves like it wasn't even there. Fuck, there's a lot of it. I should be through soon. Oh! There was a sheet of corrugated iron on the outside. It's fucking awesome being this powerful. I clanged through sheet metal it like it was noisy wet cardboard!

Now I'm standing on a narrow country lane. The road is twisty, so I can't see the rear light of the bike but I can hear its engine clear enough. I'm tearing down the lane probably twice as fast as anything that's ever gone down it before. Still no sight of the motorbike, but I can tell from the sound that I'm getting closer to it. Ah, the little lane ends ahead. It's a T-junction with what looks like a more major road. My ears tell me which way I should turn. There's the bastard! I can see him now, hunched over the front of the bike. He's wearing exactly the same jacket as all the other fuckers from the helicopters. I knew he was one of them. Now I'm even more determined to catch him.

The motorbike is much faster than a man running. Not quite as fast as the helicopters were, but still fast enough that it's taking me a while to close the gap. There's lights by the side of the road now. And a few small buildings. Oh, and I just noticed that the glow on the horizon is straight ahead. It's turning from a fuzzy shape into clear individual points of light. I guess this road heads into whatever town that is. Wow. I've just realised that means I'll have run from one town to another in a hour or so without getting tired. Cool!

There are houses streaking by now in little clumps either side of the road. I'm close enough that I can start making out the license plate on the back of the bike. Maybe another minute or so before I catch the bastard. What's that? Flashing blue light ahead to the left. It's a cop car! Pulling out from a side-street. Now the siren comes on. They're going after the motorbike! Probably for speeding or maybe they know he's stolen the thing. No fucking way am I going to let these arseholes fuck up my revenge on the bastard from the helicopter crew.

I'm angry at the police for getting involved in my private business and that makes me run even harder now. Every stride is getting me closer to the back of their car, and closer to the bike, although I can't even see the fucking bike now most of the time because of the stupid cops. And that siren is really starting to annoy me. We fucking know you're there. Shut up already!

Now there's a car coming the other way down the road towards us. I can see the headlights... it's slowing down, and pulling over to its side of the road. What is this? A fucking open invite party? The bike zooms past the stopped car, then the fuzz. I can see the old guy in the front, turning his head to follow the two vehicles as they zip by him. Now he's looking back at the road in front, probably to see if there's anyone else coming. Heh.. his mouth just popped open... he must've seen me. He's just staring at me as I race towards where he's parked. His tongue has come out like a dog... Ah, he's noticed my chest.

"Fucking perv!" I yell as I approach. I make a short swerve to his side of the road so I can give the front of his car a kick as I sprint on. Sweet! The whole car lifted where my foot hit, shooting into the air and spinning. I can just about make out the old creep's scream as I run on. It's behind me now. I guess I'll hear when it comes back d-

Nice! Judging by the bang and the way the street just lit up a bit all around me, it exploded on landing. The police have noticed it too. They're slowing down. I'm not slowing at all, however. Now I'm close to them. One of them has seen me. He's looking over his shoulder, shouting crazily. Now the driver glances around too. They've both seen me. The cop car starts to come to a sharp stop. I notice that the bike has kept going at full speed and so I do the same. I've got to decide now if I bother kicking the police car as I pass it... Nah, I'll just leap over it, mid-run. Like this. As I pass overhead, I can hear one of the rozzers saying "What the fuck?". Screw them. I'm going to land and carry on running on the other side. Now, there's no-one between me and the bike.

I can hear an engine gunning behind me, and I can tell both from the tone of the siren and the hints of flickering blue light in the corners of my eyes that the cops have decided not to check out the explosion but to follow me instead. They're probably staring at my arse, the filthy bastards. And that siren is really getting on my nerves. I should've kicked them off the road a moment ago. Shit, I'm getting closer to the bike now. I don't want to stop running and give him a chance to get away. But that siren is fucking annoying...

We're getting closer to the town now. There's no breaks between the houses at the sides of the road and I can see much larger buildings up ahead in the distance. Another car coming the other way does like the old perv and pulls over to the side. It some young men, on their way back from a party or something I reckon because of all the sweaty, stained and unbuttoned shirts. The bike passes them. Then they notice me and it's all bulging eyes and open mouths. I'm almost alongside the party boys' car now. There's four of them in there, and they're all practically drooling as they stare at me. Suddenly, they're all lit up by the flashing blue lights behind me.

I'm fucking sick of this staring. And I'm fucking sick of that siren. I'm going to take a chance that the bike won't get away from me if I stop running. Just for a second. Just long enough to grab hold of the side of the boys' car and hoist it up like that. I wonder which one of them is screaming. I can't see as I'm holding the whole car with the four of them in it over my head now. I'm not going to waste anymore time with these jerks. I turn around quickly, the car spinning with me, and with a simple thrust of my long arms, I'm going to launch it, hard, at the flashing blue lights.

Oh yeah! Being so amazingly strong is fucking awesome! I'll wait just long enough to see the collision as the party-perv-mobile rockets straight at the oncoming police car. Bullseye! I catch a split-second glimpse of both windscreens exploding and metal starting to crumple, then I turn back towards the biker. Good, he's hardly gained any distance at all from me. Oooh! There's a massive explosion behind me. Everything around me goes bright for a second and a huge Bang! tears through the night. That takes care of the fucking siren. Now it's just me and the bastard on the bike.

I'm probably no more than a hundred meters from him now, and it's getting less every second. There's more cars approaching from the other direction now. The road is getting busier as I get nearer to the town. There's a screech up ahead as the bike swerves around one car and almost crashes into another. Horns are blasted. The fucker is wobbling side to side and it's slowing him down so I'm getting closer much faster. I can clearly see the red dot of a traffic light as he approaches a junction and...

Oh. A car has crashed into him side-on. He goes flying off the bike and rolls for a bit. The car that hit him stops, and there's the screaming of brakes from other cars. I tear towards the accident, jumping over the car that hit the bike and stepping on the fallen motorbike and pretty much chopping it in half under my bare foot. A few more strides takes me to the spot where the biker is lying. He's not moving. Euch! That's why. He's got no face anymore.

Shit! All that fucking running and chasing and he's already dead. I didn't get to teach him his lesson! Whoever the fuck was driving that other car has totally fucked up my revenge. I'm already running towards the wreck. There's a woman behind the wheel slumped forward. "You fucking bitch!" I scream at her. She doesn't respond. I run to her side of the car and rip the door off with a little two-fingered tug. That's when I notice the blood. She must've smashed her head on the steering wheel. Shit! I give the side of her car an angry kick. The car lifts up and spins before crashing down on its side in the opposite lane. More cars are arriving. There's shouting...

Now what do I do?

I've been chasing after things half the night. First the helicopters, then the bastard on the bike. Now they're all dead. For the first time in hours, I'm not sure what to do. I don't need to catch my breath or anything. I'm just standing here, holding the ripped car door in my left hand. People are coming out of stopped cars now, checking the dead biker and recoiling in horror. A couple of them are headed towards me. I'm not in the mood for talking, so I drop the door at my feet and start to walk away. I need to find somewhere quiet where I can wash all this crap off and figure out what I'm going to do next.

"Hey you!" some jerk yells. I know it's at me, but I'm just going to keep walking.

"Oi! Stop!" another adult male voice. I'm not even going to turn around. I want to be somewhere by myself.

"Stop! Stop!" screeches a woman. "Someone stop her!"

Now I can hear footsteps. Two or three sets, hurrying towards me from behind. More voices:

"What did you just do to that car?"

"Do you know the guy on the bike?"

"You have to wait for the police"

What? I 'have to' ? I don't 'have to' do anything. Nobody can make me do anything. Nobody can make me go anywhere. And, above all, nobody can make me STAY anywhere. Ever again. For fuck's sake! Shut up and leave me alone!

I'm so furious at the idea of being made to stay for the police - and what? Get locked up again? - that I spin around to face the voices and footsteps.

There's three men and a woman coming down the road towards me. Two more women together at the side of the road slightly further back. And a man on the opposite pavement, holding... For fuck's sake! He's filming me on his mobile phone! I wish they would all just fuck off!.

Screw walking away. Why should I be the one who has to leave in order to be alone? I've got superpowers now after all. I shouldn't have to move at all if I don't want to. If I want to be alone, I'll just get rid of everyone else.

Starting with that fucker and his phone.

He's about thirty meters away. I'll turn my face to him and just blow, hard. I love the sound of air rushing through my pushed-out lips. It's like a roar of pure power. My power.

Thousands of fallen leaves and bits of litter zoom away from me and a fraction of a second later the wall of my breath hits phone jerk. Right away the mobile goes spinning away out of his hand. Then he staggers backwards two steps, trips and his feet come off the ground. But instead of falling onto his rear, he goes flying away from me, carried by the force of my lungs. I've already stopped blowing and closed my lips but he's still going. Now he lands, maybe seventy meters further away than before. He rolls over and over and over. Now he's not moving at all.

Watching him helplessly flung through the air when all I did was blow at him was fucking amazing! It made me feel so powerful! Fuck, I AM so powerful! I want to do that again. The four people in the middle of the street are much closer to me. One long puff, slightly moving my head to make sure all of them get a direct hit, should be enough. Like this... There's that wonderful hurricane roar, so effortless to produce... Oh yeah! This is awesome! All four of them, spiralling away, ten... no twenty feet up in the air, tossed around like autumn leaves in a storm gale, shooting away from me.

I don't seem to be running out of air, so I'm going to keep blowing. I'll try turning my neck. The two women standing by the side of the road are scooped up as if an invisible hand had grabbed them by the feet and lifted them so fast that they've ended up upside down for a brief moment. Now they've hit the side of a building. They're just stuck there, about fifteen feet above the ground pinned in place by my breath! When I turn away, I notice them starting to fall to the pavement out of the corner of my eye, but I'm now I'm targeting a car with my blowing. It's rocking... one side is lifting... and now it's off the road, rotating, slamming into another car.

I still feel like I have plenty of puff left, so I won't stop. It's too freaking cool. I'll point my lips at another car, and... that one is airborne too. It clips the top of a parked van and spins away. Now the van starts to move backwards. It creaks and overturns. I'm pushing it down the road, on its side, sparks flying as it accelerates away, just by blowing at it!

I'm going to try turning my face from left to right. I want to see the different ways my jet of air pushes and throws and tosses everything in front of me. I'm aiming right at the top of a lamppost now. It groans and then bends like a plastic drinking straw. Oh! The base of it just ripped out of the pavement! Chunks of paving and concrete get swept up and carried away by the wind from my lungs. Now I can blow the whole bent lamppost up in to sky, spinning like a boomerang. Except it's not coming back.

Look at that! The street ahead is completely empty for nearly a hundred meters, Then there's a sort of wall of mangled cars and the battered, overturned van. The dead biker and the bits of his motorbike must be somewhere inside that mutilated mass. And all the other people who were shouting at me or filming me or staring at me. My superpowers are fucking amazing! I've cleared away everything from the road in front of me - cars, vans, people - just by blowing!

Now there's no-one to bother me. I stop the gale as easily as I started it.

Finally! A bit of piece and quiet. No more shouting. I can see the calm is about to be broken almost immediately by the distant clang of the non-returning-boomerang-lamppost crashing down in the distance way behind the wall of battered vehicles in front of me. The sound tells me it's landed halfway across a car, smashing the windscreen.

Now I can try and work out what I'm going to do. I need a plan. I need to get cleaned up and then-

Fuck! Already? I can't even get a moment to think! The quiet has been broken by the distant sound of sirens. Two, no three, no more of them. And... Interesting. Because I'm trying to concentrate on picking out the individual signals from the growing mass of wailing tones, I'm noticing other sounds too. They're coming from behind me. I'll see if I can tune in on them despite the ever louder chorus of sirens. Yes! I can hear someone breathing hard. And a thumping heartbeat. And gently rustling hard-wearing fabric. All coming from behind me... but not from the street. It's cool how I can tell, even without looking, that the noises are coming from somewhere higher up than that.

I'm a bit confused by the direction of the sounds. I'm already turning around, hoping that my eyes can fill in the blanks left by my ears. So far, no new information. There's no-one in front of me on the street that I can spot. And no-one on the pavements. Just parked cars lining the road and buildings lining the pavements. Nothing shows in any of the windows as I scan up, one, two, three, four, five floors. Wait! Something just glinted up on that roof. I'm staring hard, using all my new eye-sight powers. Got to focus through the orange glare of a street lamp to study what's in the dark behind it... There's a man up there! He's dressed in black, lying on the flat roof, holding... Is that some kind of binoculars? Is he perving on me? Staring down on the big expanse of superhuman cleavage I'm displaying thanks to the alien's dual transformation of my body and my wardrobe?

I've already taken two quick steps and sprung off my heels, crushing the road surface beneath my feet as I launch myself towards the roof. The windows flash by and now, I can see down on the jerk in black as I get ready to land. He's so shocked, he's dropped his binoculars. I see them fall the five storeys to smash on the concrete below as my soles touch down about two steps away from where he's still lying. He's trying to gather his legs to stand, but I'm too quick. I take the two steps and grab him by the throat before he's even made it to his knees.

I pull him up, keeping my arm close to my body until the hand gripping him is just below my newly-supercharged bust. His neck is bent as my big breasts force his chin back and he can't straighten his knees because I'm holding him too low. His feet are on the ground, but it's my hand on his throat that is bearing all his weight. His eyes are huge. Maybe it's shock, maybe it's fear, maybe it's because my chest is filling most of his sight right now.

"Is this what you wanted, perv?" I demand of him. "A better view of my tits?" He mumbles something, my hold forcing him to speak directly into my vast cleavage, but the angle of his head and my fingers squeezing his neck must be making it almost impossible for him to talk properly. I take a step towards the rim of the roof, carrying him with me, keeping his chin pressed to my superhuman curves. His feet drag along the ground. For a brief moment he frantically tries to plant them on the roof, kicking furiously, until I move so that he and his boots are over the side of the building. I'm standing on the very edge, but he's standing on nothing but air, only my hand on his throat saving him from a five-storey fall with a messy ending.

I'm looking down, past his feet, to the street below. It's the kind of view that would have made me uncomfortable before the aliens gave me all these powers. Now, I know that if I took another step forwards and fell, the only damage would be to the pavement where I land. Oh, and to the perv I'm holding as well, but I really couldn't care less about him. He's getting really desperate now, clawing at my grip with both his hands but there's nothing he can do. I'm completely in charge here. He's making another attempt to speak. He must be using up every last drop of strength he can gather just to get the words out because I can actually make out what he's saying this time.

"Please!" he wheezes to my breasts. "I wasn't... looking... at... your... chest.... I.... swear!" He's certainly looking at it now, but then I haven't given him any choice I suppose.

"What were you doing with those binoculars then, perv?" I say.

"Tracking... your... location..." he gasps, hoarsely.

"What the fuck does that mean?" I demand. 'Tracking my location'... It sounds like perv code for staring at my tits.

"Reporting... where... you... are..."

Reporting? That would mean... this perv is working with someone else. Maybe with a whole bunch of other pervs. "Reporting to who?"

"The.. Air... Force..." he croaks.

"Why?" I ask. "So they can come and stare at my tits as well?"

"I... swear... I.... wasn't... looking... at..." I really can't be bothered to listen to his excuse again. I'll just open my hand and release his neck. With nothing to hold him in place, his chin slides down over the curve of my bust and he's falling to the street. "..your.... tiiiiitssssss" he yells up at me as he plummets. He hits the pavement in a twisted mess of arms and legs. A small dark red puddle begins to form by his head.

I'm still standing on the lip of the roof. It's a great view of whatever shit-hole town this is. I can see multiple sets of blue and red flashing lights working their way through the streets towards the road below. The sound of the various sirens is growing louder. Maybe I should just stay up here for a while. Any minute now, the street below is going to be full of jerks in uniforms. I'll have a better chance to work out my next move if I walk over to the centre of the roof, about... here, out of sight from the ground.

I'm not tired, but I'm going to sit down, just so that I'm even less visible from the street. It's the first opportunity I've had in ages to think. I'll tune out the noise of all those sirens, like this. Now, I can hear the whine of a distant aircraft engine. Not so distant, actually. And it's getting a lot louder very quickly. Oh. I've just remembered that perv saying he was tracking my location for the Air Force. I think I've worked out what that actually means. Ah, fuck!

"Why can't you bastards leave me alone?!" I shout at the dark orange sky. The whole town probably heard my cry, but there's no reply other than the ever-nearing roar of a jet plane.


Conceptfan, Jul. 2016.