"Empress Ria". Cruel, violent and evil supergirl fiction by Conceptfan.

Foreword

It began with the assassination of the Emperor. Immediately, an official period of mourning was declared for all of Prytkon and every one of the planet's inhabitants was instructed to behave accordingly. But as news of the Emperor's death spread, the mood amongst those inhabitants was joyous, if a little nervous. The old tyrant was gone; not only that, he had been killed by an ordinary citizen, smashing the widely-held myth that the royal dynasty was untouchable. A wave of tentative excitement swept across the planet.

Seizing on the wide-spread confusion caused by the temporary power-vacuum, a host of underground organisations began to mobilise their supporters. The promise of a chance of freedom from the centuries-old yoke of oppression was too tempting to pass up. A series of secret meetings was held between the many rebel leaders and a plan was formulated. The great uprising was scheduled for the day of Princess Ria's inauguration as Empress.

Meanwhile, in the Imperial Palace, Ria shed few tears for her murdered father. To her he had been a distant figure, too obsessed with crushing any resistance to his rule to have any time for his only child. Rather than mourn him, the Princess was secretly thrilled at the prospect of becoming Empress much sooner that she had expected. She had barely reached the age of maturity and there were still traces of childish excitement in her behaviour. On countless occasions, she had seen her father enjoying the excesses of his reign, now she was to have her opportunity. She could not wait to assume the throne. After all, it was in her blood. She was descended from generations of dictatorial rulers.

But then, on the day she was to be crowned, the revolution came. It was remarkably swift and bloodless. Seeing the ragged army charging towards the palace, the imperial guards, who had not been spared the harshness of the old Emperor's reign, abandoned their posts and fled. Within a few hours the entire palace was occupied by rebels. Princess Ria was captured and held prisoner by the renegade army, and the rule of Emperors was declared over. Prytkon was gripped by a mood of jubilation.

It was not long before a new governing council was elected. Its members declared that no individual would ever hold absolute power on Prytkon again. In a symbolic gesture designed both to illustrate these sentiments and to punish an entire dynasty of rulers, the council decreed that the former princess should be sent away from the planet and forbidden from ever returning. Accordingly, a small space ship was built with sufficient fuel and life-support systems to sustain a single passenger for an indefinite period. It was programmed to fly endlessly into deep space until either its resources ran out or its lonely passenger died.

Steps were taken to ensure that the craft's automatic guidance systems would steer it free of any dangers; the people of Prytkon wanted Ria's agony to last as long as was possible. The tyrant's daughter would be forced to see her homeworld shrinking from view in the knowledge that she could never go back there. Then she would be forced to spend the rest of her life in unbroken isolation. So, when all the necessary preparations had been made, the former Princess was roughly dragged towards the ship. In a final humiliation, she was stripped of her clothes before she was thrown inside. She was to be allowed to take as little of Prytkon with her as was possible. Then, the ship was sealed shut.

The exile-ship's departure was greeted with wild celebration. It was seen by the population as the precise moment that Prytkon broke away from its dark past into a bright, free future. No-one on that world had any way of knowing that it also heralded the beginning of a new tyranny for another planet far across the galaxy. None of them had ever detected the presence of the worm-hole in space that lead from the edge of the Prytkon system to a distant group of planets orbiting a weak yellow star. Similarly, no Prytkonian was aware of the effects of radiation from a such a golden sun on their species. Of all the countless sons and daughters of Prytkon, only Ria would ever make that particular discovery.

 

Conceptfan, Nov. 2001.

Chapter 1

Ria watched her homeworld shrinking in the viewport until it was too small to be visible any more. Her eyes were moist with tears; she would never see Prytkon again. She would never be Empress. She was a floating prisoner, trapped alone in a tiny spaceship headed for unknown regions of space. The true horror of her situation had still not sunk in to her mind as she fell into an uncomfortable sleep. She did not notice the jolt as the craft fell into an unchartered wormhole, nor the shudder of its weak engines as it emerged from the 'hole on the opposite side of the galaxy.

The former Princess awoke a short time later as if from an extraordinarily deep and refreshing sleep. She felt strangely wonderful. She had expected to wake up as drawn and miserable as she had been when she fell asleep. Yet her entire body seemed to be gently tingling with energy. Her mind was surprisingly clear. She sat up in bed and stretched her limbs. It was unreal; she felt absolutely fantastic. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, preparing to stand up. She planted her right foot on the ground exactly as she had done thousands of mornings before. But something was different this time.

Ria watched in detached shock as her foot seemed to slowly sink into and through the floor, tearing a large, jagged hole in the thick, supposedly ultra-resistant metal. Her heel brushed against the outer shell of the ship itself, nearly half a meter beneath the floor. She hardly felt the contact on her foot yet through the hole ripped in the metal floor she could see a deep heel-shaped dent in the shell.

Panic gripped her. Obviously, she thought, the hard metal of the ship had somehow become soft. If the craft was about to disintegrate, then her life sentence was about to be dramatically altered to a death penalty. Tentatively, she reached out her hand and gently pushed against one of the main side walls of the cabin. Her hand went straight through it, almost as if it didn't exist.

Ria kept her arm extended for a few moments, too surprised to retract it. Slowly, she became aware of a slightly cold sensation on her hand. She peered through the hole she'd made and saw a ridge of total darkness surrounding her fingers. Suddenly she realised what she had done: she had pierced both the interior and exterior walls of the ship. All the material on board had been affected by the mysterious softening force.

She looked around herself. She saw the floor, the ceiling and the walls all buckling slightly. She watched cracks appear and spread in length and width. She knew that the breech of the outer walls meant the inevitable explosion of the craft. But she was perplexed, as all her knowledge told her that the destruction should have occurred the instant her hand pierced the shell. She was too confused now to be frightened. It was all somehow happening unreally slowly.

As if triggered by her thoughts, the ship suddenly broke into an uncountable number of pieces around her. Chunks of torn metal flew away from her into the vacuum of space at great speed. She panicked as the craft disintegrated; wishing at that instant that the pieces of ship would not disappear from view so quickly, as if she would somehow be able to reassemble them if they stayed close by. For the second time, as though on her mental command, the speed of the world around her seemed to change and the debris immediately stopped racing way. Now, the bits of craft seemed to be leisurely floating in space.

Stunned by this change, she decided to find out whether or not her thoughts really were the cause of it. She tried to empty her mind in preparation for her experiment and noticed that the remains of the ship immediately began moving with incredible speed once more. When she concentrated on the thought that she wanted to see them travelling slower again, they instantly appeared to do so. With a bit of practice, she soon found she could exercise an astonishing degree of control over the apparent speed of her environment.

After a few moments, a realisation crept over her: it was not the speed of the universe around her that was changing; it was the pace of her thoughts. Somehow, she could see things happen - she could even react to them - at unbelievable velocities. She did not know why or how, but she was suddenly certain that this was the correct theory. And then it occurred to her that if she could think about, observe and respond to events that were actually taking place within the blink of an eye, then she must have acquired - impossible though it seemed - the ability to operate at fantastic speed. Again, mysteriously, she felt immediately as if she knew for sure that this was true.

What was happening to her? She tried to think back over the past few moments. She was certain now that the ship had been destroyed in a tiny fraction of a heartbeat; only her new ability to function at incredible speed had made it appear to her that the craft had slowly broken up. Then, with a jolt, she remembered why the ship had exploded: her hand. She had thought at that instant that the metal had somehow become soft, as if its very atoms and molecules had rearranged themselves, altering the wall's physical characteristics. But what if the metal had become soft in the same way that the universe had momentarily become slow? What if it was her atoms and molecules, not the metal's that had been altered - if the materials of the ship had remained unchanged and had only seemed fragile to her?

Ria's train of thought stopped dead as the shock hit her. Her petite, delicate hand had pierced right through the interplanetary craft's internal panels and its thick external armour as though they were made of nothing more than water! If her reasoning was correct - and something in her mind was convinced that it was - then along with her fantastic speed-related capabilities, she now also possessed unimaginable strength. She studied her hands and her slender, feminine arms. They looked exactly as they had always done; there was no sign of bulging muscle - in fact, nothing to show that they now had the power to tear a hole in a spaceship in a thousandth of a second. The incredible change that seemed to have taken place did not appear to have left a single trace. Could it really all be true?

She decided to examine her whole body. As she looked down towards her feet, she suddenly became aware for the first time of the night sky all around her. She was completely surrounded by space and stars. Until that moment she had not realised that she was floating, utterly exposed, in the vacuum. Another wave of panic shot through her: what little science she know told her that her blood should have been boiling, her skin exploding and her lungs collapsing. Why was she not dead? Was this yet another amazing development? Had she gained some sort of invulnerability to the cold and vacuum in addition to incomprehensible strength and speed?

The anxiety inside her began to subside. Once more, she felt the peculiar sensation in her mind that told her that she was right: she had nothing to fear from the absence of air or warmth. Somehow, she could now survive in a vacuum at temperatures marginally above absolute zero. Somehow, she could now tear metal with her dainty fingertips. Somehow, she could now think and act faster than an exploding spaceship. What force had done this to her? What other unbelievable qualities had she acquired? Was the change permanent? She desperately wanted to test out her new found capabilities, but how could she examine her strength, her speed, her invulnerability and (she thought) whatever else besides, when she was here in the vacuum of space? And without a ship, how was she ever even to move from this spot?

As she wondered what she should now do, she could not help but luxuriate in the feeling of floating free in the universe. She closed her eyes to heighten her enjoyment of the new sensation. When she opened them again, she found she was gently tumbling head over heels. Fearing that she was out of control she tried to stop the movement by tensing her legs and arms. Instantly, she was immobile once more. She knew straight away that she had discovered yet another new ability.

She decided to experiment; she tensed only her left arm and was delighted to find herself moving in the direction in which it pointed. Very soon, she found that she could propel herself in any direction simply by tightening various muscles around her body. With a little practice she was soon able to control her movements with immense precision. She found that by altering the degree to which she tensed herself, she could also affect the speed of her travel. Just as she longed to experiment with her other new-found capabilities, she felt a strong desire to put self-propulsion to the test. For that, she realised, she needed to find a fixed point of reference.

She looked around, marvelling at the novelty of circumspection in space. She quickly realised that she had to look up and down as well as left and right and in front and behind. Eventually, she did manage to spot a yellowish star whose brightness and colour convinced her that it was the nearest to her. As she focussed her eyes on the distant sun, it suddenly seemed to grow dramatically until it over-filled her vision. Soon, she could make out the details of its flares and see the texture of its violent surface. She relaxed her gaze and the view returned to how it had been a few seconds before. So this, she assumed, was what had happened to her eyes - like the rest of her, they too had miraculously improved beyond all rational limits.

She was amazed by how easy it was to use her new abilities and assumed that a vast enhancement in her judgment and self-control must have occurred as part of her inexplicable transformation. She wondered to what extent she had changed and craved to know what other new or improved capabilities she possessed. She considered the possibility that the alteration was permanent. By now, she was desperate to test out her new abilities. She stretched out her arm and set off in the direction of the foreign yellow star, impatient to discover more.

She could not believe it. As she tensed her leading arm, her travel became faster and faster seemingly without limit. She knew that the golden star had to be a long, long way from the spot where her prison-craft had been destroyed. If she had made the journey in that ship, she would have been forced to sleep part of the way as it would have taken so long. But sleep was the last thing on her mind now - she had never felt more refreshed, more healthy, more alive. Not just alive, she thought, something more than that. She felt... powerful. That was it. She was so close to the yellow sun now that the giant fireball was blocking the rest of space from her view, and yet she had been travelling for what had seemed only the shortest while. She had propelled herself, using only her body, through space at hundreds of times the maximum speed of the quickest spaceship. And she had survived the journey. Unscathed. She wasn't even a little tired.

She calculated that she was now close enough to the star to become trapped in its gravitational pull, but she was sufficiently confident in her new abilities not to be alarmed by the idea. She decided that this was the moment to begin testing those abilities. She relaxed and felt herself "falling" towards the enormous fireball below her. Soon, she was within range of the huge flares as they were hurled from the sun. She found that she enjoyed the sensation of the discharges of burning gas and energy as they licked against her body and was amused to note that she was barely aware of the fantastic heat the star must have been producing. Remaining relaxed, she allowed the incredible force of the sun's gravity to pull her ever nearer to its turbulent surface until she was submerged in swirling fiery gasses. She felt a smug satisfaction grow within her as she played with the thought that she was withstanding temperatures that would instantly vaporise most substances in the universe. Gradually, she began to delight in the knowledge that her very flesh was now far more resistant than all those countless materials.

Still under the influence of the pull of the yellow sun, she luxuriated as she sunk deeper into its raging bulk. She knew that she was now enduring pressures and temperatures that would have tested even her imagination before her recent transformation. Yet although she was aware of feeling much warmer than a few moments previously, she was experiencing no significant discomfort; in fact, she was enjoying the sensations she picked up all over her body. She opened her eyes and discovered to her surprise that she was not dazzled by the flames, explosions and brilliant light all around her. Then, she noticed that much of that glare seemed to be coming from her skin rather than from the star around her and a moment later she realised that she was now as hot as the sun itself!

Although she felt no pain, Ria was apprehensive about subjecting herself to any more extreme heat: she had established that she was virtually invulnerable and she had no wish to determine once and for all if she had become completely indestructible. It was time to discover whether or not her propulsion abilities could drag her clear of the formidable pull of the star. She tensed all of her muscles and within a few dozen heartbeats she was so far away that she could see the whole of the yellow sun's circumference over her shoulder. She had not even noticed any resistance as she left the star's gravitational field. She had bathed inside a sun and had escaped its crushing gravity with ease. Now she understood just why she felt so potent. Somehow, she had become inconceivably powerful.

Ria turned her head away from the yellow star and scanned the universe. After playing in the gases of the sun, she was eager to find some solid matter with which she could test more of her enhanced capabilities. Soon enough, her vastly improved eyes picked out a chunk of space debris trapped in orbit around the star that had just served as her playground. She concentrated her gaze, instantly bringing the object into clear view and revealing its rough, rocky surface. Clearly, it was some kind of asteroid or meteor.

It looked ideally suited to her purposes so she tensed her arms, enjoying the effortlessness of this new kind of transport. After only a few moments' relaxed self-propulsion she reached the rock. To her surprise - especially given the fact that she felt as if she was travelling at a leisurely pace - she almost shot straight past it. The asteroid was moving through space at astronomical speed and yet her easy pace was many times faster. Exercising her remarkable physical judgment and control, not to mention her lightening reactions, she slowed to a halt and studied the meteorite. It was at least a hundred times her size, with jagged edges and traces of metal ores visible on its surface. It had to weigh many hundreds of times more than her.

As the former Princess was trying to estimate the mass of the asteroid, an idea dawned on her. Having discovered her phenomenal invulnerability to heat a short while previously, she realised that the huge space rock provided her with an excellent opportunity to find out whether she was equally resistant to impact. She slightly tensed her arms, allowing her to easily accelerate past the rock and steer herself gracefully into its path. Slowing to a stop, she turned herself around so the she was facing the on-rushing mass. Carefully, she aligned her body with the meteor as it hurtled in her direction, trying to maximise the area of impact.

A few instants before the collision, with her anticipation reaching its peak, she suddenly realised that the enormous object's momentum would inevitably knock her clear of its path before she would be able to judge the full effects of the crash. To counter this, she instinctively tensed herself. She figured that if her muscles could propel her through space, they might well be capable of performing the opposite task - holding her still. Her idea was to try to tense her arms and legs inwards, as opposed to away from her body as she did for travelling. And, having summoned enough power to escape a star's gravitational field, she reckoned she would be able to use that same power to resist an asteroid's force.

It worked. She did not budge so much as a hair's breadth when the huge meteor smashed into her. In fact, to her utmost delight, she was not in any way physically affected by the mighty collision. The same, however, could not be said of the enormous ancient ball of space rock...

Ria watched it all in amused fascination, in awe at her own body, using her new gifts to make it all appear to be taking place incredibly slowly. She saw how the uneven surface of the asteroid initially met with four areas of her naked skin. One jagged bit of rock touched the front of her leg, just above her knee. Another met her flat, smooth abdomen whilst a third protrusion from the meteor hit her top lip close to her nose. The final point of contact between naked girl and asteroid was not caused by anything jutting out from the inanimate entity so much as from her: the position she had chosen to adopt made it inevitable that her breasts would bear the full brunt of the impact.

As she stared, she saw how her flesh momentarily appeared to be yielding to the much larger object. She saw how the skin on her leg, stomach and face dimpled very slightly where the points of rock pushed into it whilst the naturally softer parts of her body yielded considerably more. She observed as her flesh seemed to reach its maximum point of give as the huge rock pressed against it, remaining utterly impassive under the unbelievable pressure bearing down her. She continued to watch in amazement, stretching a tiny fraction of a heart-beat into an aeon, as the momentum of the meteor proved no match for her slim, lithe body.

It was incredible! Her very skin seemed to be resisting the force. The points were the rock first pressed into her - the tiny indents in her leg, belly and lip - became flat once more as her flesh seemed to respond, restoring its former evenness. Her breasts, which had flattened ever so slightly as the meteor smashed against them, soon regained their normal pert round shape, pushing outwards as they did, propelling the rock away from their now fully curved femininity. It was although her chest had disdainfully dismissed the efforts of the enormous meteor. She could hardly believe what was happening; her firm, young breasts, supposedly amongst the softest and most vulnerable parts of her body, had easily absorbed the full power of the impact and had effortlessly responded with a far greater power of their own, utterly unaffected by the asteroid.

In real time, as the meteorite made full contact with her, it instantly disintegrated. But to Ria, using her time-stretching abilities, the asteroid seemed to push into her body for a while before being momentarily pushed back and then slowly breaking up into a billion pieces varying in size from as large as her head to microscopic particles. The areas of rock that were pressed up against her crumbled into a fine dust, utterly unable to withstand being crushed between their own momentum and her flawless, smooth skin. With glee, she noticed the surviving chunks of meteorite crashing into one another as they spread in every conceivable direction. Quite a few pieces of space rock ricocheted back into her body only to be smashed once more as they impacted with something many thousands of times harder than mere rock - the bare skin of the daughter of the last Emperor of Prytkon.

Ria was unable to suppress a smile. After all, the first, massive impact had felt to her like nothing more than walking into a stiff breeze. And as for the subsequent smaller knocks, well, they were as insignificant to her as gentle caresses. There was not a single mark on her smooth skin. Her body showed not a single trace of the enormous collision it had endured only moments before.

Once again she felt as if a surge of power was ripping through her entire body. She had never felt so wonderful. She reached out and grabbed a fragment of meteor as it passed. Although the shard was travelling many times faster than her prison-ship had been able to, she had no difficulty plucking it from space. She brought the rock close to her and pressed it against her smooth flat belly, grinning now with satisfaction as she watched it turn to dust, utterly unable to resist her strength and her invulnerability. Grabbing another, slightly larger, chunk she placed it carefully between her thighs. Slowly, she began to squeeze her legs together. A crack appeared in the rock, then another, then, inevitably, it too was dust.

The former Princess was unable to suppress a wicked smile. For an instant, in her mind, the shard of meteorite she had crushed between her thighs had become the head of one of the main revolutionary leaders back on Prytkon. She imagined the asteroid she had smashed against her slim, feminine body as the rebel army that had risen up against the Imperial dynasty, preventing her from becoming Empress and exiling her to deepest space. In her dream, the sun whose burning gases had failed to have any effect on her smooth skin was all of that army's firepower and the spaceship she had torn to shreds with her slender, delicate limbs was its armoured vehicles. If she had had the abilities she now possessed, she could have resisted the uprising single-handedly.

It was the most wonderful thought. She loved the idea of using her new, incredible abilities against other beings; to subdue, dominate, humiliate and destroy them using nothing but her body. If only she could go back to Prytkon with her current capabilities! She could avenge her father's death and take her rightful place as Empress. She wouldn't need an army to enforce her rule - she was far more powerful than any army. Similarly, she would have nothing to fear from any rebels - their weapons would be useless against her.

As Ria lost herself in her day dream, a feeling grew within her unlike any she'd ever known. It was a mixture of arousal and power, a feeling of supreme well-being, confidence and vitality. Fluidly - almost lazily - she extended her arm and closed her slender fingers around a passing shard of debris. It fit comfortably in her hand. Still fantasising about using her new abilities on the population of Prytkon, she brought her hand to her chest and pressed the hard chunk of rock against her young, firm breast.

Her arousal reached new heights as she watched her flesh seem to momentarily yield before reaching its point of maximum give. The solid rock was soon ground into powder, pulverised between the immeasurable pressure exerted by her delicate feminine palm and the invulnerability of her large round breast. She felt a new thrill explode within her. Her breast - the very essence of her femininity - had effortlessly crushed a meteorite. The softest part of her anatomy was far, far harder than stone.

The dead Emperor's daughter looked down at her now invulnerable body. She thought wistfully of the amusement she could have found if she had possessed her incredible new abilities whilst she was still on Prytkon. But her dreams of home were futile now. She was in another corner of the universe. She could never use her new abilities against the people of Prytkon. It angered her to think that her father's death would go unrevenged. Most of all, though, she was frustrated that she would not be able to live out her developing fantasies. It seemed such an injustice that she had been given such an incredible gift and then denied the opportunity to make use of it. In each and every tiny part of her body, she possessed more power than she or her father had ever dreamt of. And there was no-one to use it against.

Then an idea occurred to her. True, she could never return to her homeworld, but perhaps somewhere in this unknown part of the universe there was another planet similar to Prytkon. Maybe there were many other planets with beings similar to those back home. Maybe the galaxy was full of her species, living on a thousand planets like Prytkon. Perhaps somewhere not far away, there was a world for her, where she could use her incredible new capabilities to fulfil her birthright. A world were she could be Empress.

What Ria was looking for was a planet like her own; a world with oceans of water and an atmosphere. By now she was confident that she herself needed neither liquid nor air for survival, but the type of beings she was seeking most certainly did. She wanted to find a planet whose inhabitants shared her race's physical appearance, but none of her new abilities. If she was to fully enjoy all this power, she had to be amongst beings who did not possess it. They had to be weak. They had to be vulnerable. They had to be utterly powerless against her.

She hung in space, turning slowly, allowing her remarkable eyes to scan the universe. There were ten planets orbiting the star she had just visited and countless other smaller objects. She used her enhanced sight to reveal incredible detail of each one in turn, until she found a globe that reminded her in many ways of Prytkon. It had an atmosphere with clouds and weather. Concentrating intently on the gases swirling around the small world, she found that she could pierce them with her eyesight and see the surface below.

Her delight at the discovery of this new vision-ability did not occupy her for long. For there, on the planet's surface, along with oceans and continents and other familiar shapes, she saw what she immediately knew had to be population settlements. Some of them even seemed to resemble the type of settlements her distant ancestors on Prytkon had built. Her mind filled with excitement. Had she found her world already? Were the builders and inhabitants of these cities the creatures she so desperately sought? She was already heading towards the mysterious planet, her arms fully tensed so that her amazing self-propulsion abilities were carrying her at incredible speed.

The girl who would be Empress was soon close enough to make out more details. There were a number of tiny, artificial devices in close orbit around the planet, clear evidence of a primitive technology. Then she saw other, larger objects travelling through the white clouds that shrouded the planet. Were these the life forms of this world? They seemed to rigid to be alive. As she got a little closer she saw vapour trails behind the objects and realised they had to be machines of some kind. A thrill of excitement ran through her. If the creatures of this world had had to build machines for that purpose, then they must have lacked a self-propulsion ability like hers. What other abilities did they not possess?

Unconsciously, Ria increased her pace of travel, moving almost as fast as the laws of the universe allowed. Closer now, her enhanced vision penetrated the outside of one of the travelling machines and revealed its contents. For the first time since her father's assassination, she felt true joy. It was unmistakable. There, inside the device, seated in neat rows, she saw people. People with the same anatomies as those on Prytkon. People who needed a huge machine to transport them through the air. People who did not have the incredible abilities she had mysteriously gained.

There were males and females, adults and children - just like on her homeworld. They were wearing strange clothes; very different from the ones torn from her as she was exiled from Prytkon. It was easy for her to adjust her gaze to see the flesh underneath those clothes. Ria let her eyes linger on one or two of the males who had impressive physiques. These beings were so similar to her own people that she wondered if the populations of both planets were descended from the same ancestors. Perhaps they were distant cousins.

She was getting ever nearer to the blue-grey world and her excitement was building accordingly. She relaxed her eyes, losing sight of the people in the air-bound transport device and looking now at the entire planet. It hung so peacefully in space, seemingly utterly unaware of the lone girl streaking towards it. A girl who had been a Princess and a prisoner but wanted to be an Empress. A naked, young girl who possessed unimaginable power in her stunning, slender frame.

 

Conceptfan, Nov. 2001.

Chapter 2

It was a night of first times. The first time he had driven home so late and the first time he had done it alone. Neither fact was prominent in his thoughts; the accident earlier in the evening was almost completely occupying his mind. They had been horsing around as usual. They were ignoring all the warnings they'd recieved about mucking around with their tools and, as always, his brother had decided to take things just a little too far. So Jed had spent the next few hours applying crude emergency bandages and rushing his blood-covered sibling to hospital.

Once there, he waited while George was stitched up and given shots against infection and pain. It was almost midnight when he was able to speak to the medical staff and verify that the wounds were not too serious and that his brother would - with time - make a full recovery. It would be a while before either of them would try to juggle a chainsaw again, but it could have been so much worse. And that was why Jed was driving home on his own at just shy of one o'clock in the morning.

Something else that Jed had never done before was see a shooting star. His first reaction when the bright, streaking dot in the sky caught his attention, was to point it out to George. He stopped himself when he recalled his brother lying on a hospital bed, stitched and doped up. "Well," he thought, "Georgie's gonna have to miss this one."

He pulled up to the side of the road and climbed down from the pickup truck to watch the celestial phenomenon. The night was still and clear, yet he had no difficulty spotting the comet amongst the countless stars visible, such was its brightness and speed of movement. Jed had no idea how big the comet was, nor how fast it was travelling, but he could tell from its path that it was heading towards the ground. He calculated that it would hit the dirt behind a distant range of hills and without considering any further he climbed back into his truck, started the engine, steered off the road and began the bumpy ride towards the hills.

Jed had hardly driven a third of the way to the hills when he became aware of a strange rushing sound crescendoing above the noise of the truck. Almost immediately, his eyes were stunned by an incredibly bright light from above. The comet! He had completely misjudged its trajectory and now it was about to come down right on top of him. "Oh God!" he thought. The glare was so strong that he had to place his hands over his eyes to protect them. In the panic to protect himself, he accidently flicked the headlights off, but the glow from above was too strong for him to notice. Instinctively, he transferred his foot from accelerator to brake, bringing the pickup to a shuddering halt.

Jed sat cowering in the driver's seat, face covered with his hands, listening to the rushing sound of the meteorite as it became louder and louder. For what seemed like an eternity he muttered an improvised prayer and waited for what he was convinced would be his untimely death. Yet something was not quite right: the space rock seemed to be taking far too long over its decent. Jed thought that his impending end was causing his mind to stretch his few remaining seconds into minutes. Then, without any warning, the noise that had grown to almost deafening proportions, ceased. "I must be dead already." he told himself. "I must be in heaven. That's why I never heard the comet crash into the ground or felt it crush me." He dared not open his eyes, afraid of what he might see, so he kept his hands on his face. Gradually he became aware that the bright light that had penetrated his hands and eyelids was beginning to fade, slowly at first and then with increasing rapidity. Eventually, he was in total darkness and total silence. Whatever had happened, it was over.

Soon, curiousity overcame his fear. It was time for him to open his eyes. His mind and heart raced as they tried to come to terms with what he might find but he quickly realised that there was only one way to discover the truth. Carefully, he removed his hands from his face and then gingerly blinked his eyes open.

He was still sitting in the pickup. Had the truck gone to heaven with him? But it was a strange heaven. It was as dark as it had been when he had first noticed the comet. He looked up and immediately noticed the same stars as before. Perhaps he was still on Earth. What had happened to the meteor? Had he even imagined the whole thing? Surely there had to be a crater nearby where the rock had hit the ground. He couldn't see. For some reason the truck's lights weren't on - maybe he'd hit the switch in his panic earlier. He reached down and felt for the tiny lever and confirmed that it was in the "off" position. He knew he couldn't remain where he was forever - he didn't particularly want to wait for morning either - assuming he was still in a place that had mornings. There was nothing for it, but to flick on the lights.

He expected to be staring at a huge rock lying in a crater in the ground. Although he needed a couple of seconds to adjust to the sudden light, he was immediately aware that things were not as they should be. There was no rock, no crater. As his brain began to process the imformation from his eyes, one single thought crystallised in his mind: "I am in heaven after all". For standing five meters in front of his truck was what could only be an angel.

She was about medium height and slim. Gradually, as he became accustomed to the light, he could make out more and more details. As he slowly scanned her body, a sense of disbelief washed over him. Firstly, he realised that she was naked. There was not a stitch of clothing on her. The next thing he saw was that she was beautiful. Stunning, in fact. Totally unbelievable. He drank her in slowly. There was not a gram of surplus fat on her. Her legs were long, smooth and flawless. They were beautifully shaped; they seemed to draw his eyes upwards to her perfect thighs and between them - he couldn't help but look - lay a perfect, neat triangle of dark public hair, holding out the promise of what lay hidden from view beneath.

He tore his eyes away from her little garden and continued their fantastic upward journey of discovery. Her stomach was almost as flat as a mirror; only the faint hint of abdominal muscles beneath the perfect skin and the dark navel set like a jewel, broke the vision of the heavenly plain. He continued to direct his gaze upward, tracing the faint outlines of her ribs for a second or two. But he was so filled with anticipation of the next few moments that he could not bring himself to linger an instant more.

"Jeez," he thought to himself, "they're perfect!" and indeed they were. The most incredible breasts Jed had ever seen - and he had seen plenty, albeit mostly in magazines. They stood quite high on her chest, projecting outwards as though she were wearing some sort of invisible bra. They were large - almost as large as they could be without being disproportionally huge - but what most caused Jed's draw to drop was the perfection of their shape; they were just so immaculately fully rounded and so ideally spaced apart and they naturally presented themselves at the perfect angle, not so much proud as downright boastful. At the centre of each sat a generous, flawless pink nipple, protuding about half an inch, ideally in proportion with the rest of her indescribably beautiful chest. Jed stared at that chest for quite a while.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of him and he tore his eyes away from her breasts, examining the supple perfection of her neck, before finally looking at her face. By now, he was not surprised to find it the most beautiful he had ever seen. Her hair was brunette and arrow-straight. It fell on either side of her head like waterfalls to finish splayed out across her smooth round shoulders. One tight group of hairs fell down her face, almost obscuring one eye, passing her nose and covering a corner of her mouth. Her eyes were a light brown, so bright, so clear. Even if Jed had been trying to discover an emotion in them he would have failed. They expressed nothing but an calm alertness.

But Jed was more interested in the physical side of things. He was taking in her strong, but somehow cute at the same time, nose and, perhaps above all else on her face, her lips. They were red - not crimson, but rose-coloured, full - not inflated but generous, and shaped in a exquisite cupid's bow, a subtle, natural pout that, like every single other feature of her physical appearance was utterly beyond improvement. Jed was a man of few words who had difficulty expressing himself at the best of times. At that moment only one word sprang into his mind and it stayed there, playing on a loop: "Perfect... Perfect... Perfect..."

oOo

Coming through the planet's atmosphere with such speed, her skin had become white hot. By now she had enough control over her self-propulsion to come to a halt on her feet exactly on the planet's surface. As she approached terra firma she spotted a solitary square object moving incredibly slowly along the ground. Was this another transportation device? It appeared to be - she soon spotted a large male seated inside. She smiled to herself: if this man needed this pathetically ponderous machine to move about, then how slow and weak must he be without it? She was curious to find out.

The device seemed to halt so Ria came to ground immediately in front of it. Quickly, her skin cooled and stopped glowing. She examined the vehicle and its occupant, wondering why he had placed his hands over his eyes. When he eventually removed them, she saw him straining to look out of his machine. To her amazement, it was obvious from his face that he was unable to see her at all. Then she realised: it was too dark for unenhanced eyesight. This male clearly had none of the extra abilities she had recently acquired. She also noticed that he was overweight and, by Prytkonian standards, rather ugly.

The man remedied his vision problems by activating some sort of basic lighting devices at the front of his travelling device. The look on his face was a picture; it was as if he had never seen a female before. Then she remembered how her clothes had been taken from her before she had been exiled from Prytkon. Perhaps, she thought, such a ugly man was unaccustomed to seeing young, naked girls, or perhaps he had never seen one descend from the sky. He looked her up and down as though he were reading some sacred manuscript. Focussing her eyes, Ria looked through the casing of his machine, through the complicated and primitive-looking mechanism inside and through the man's clothes. He had an erection! Just from looking at her!

The male seemed to be making no attempt to move; if he was so excited by the sight of her, why didn't he get out of his device and approach her? She decided to go to him instead and began walking towards him. These were the first unencumbered steps she had taken since her arrest on Prytkon, but despite that she was struck by the effortless feel of her stride. She felt incredibly supple, her limbs so light, her whole body brimming with energy. She strode with increasing confidence towards the man in his metal contraption, wondering if he was typical of the inhabitants of the planet.

Jed saw the girl walking towards him like a model on a catwalk with long, assured strides. With each step her wonderful, large breasts bobbed ever so slightly like something out of his most private fantasies. The vision made Jed's penis even harder. He stayed motionless, partly in shock and partly because he didn't want to take his eyes off her for even an instant. She was utterly incredible. As she approached, his vantage point in the cab of the pickup allowed him to see the top of her breasts. He had never seen anything like it - not on a woman who wasn't wearing a bra. They had to be incredibly firm, thought Jed, to sit so high on her chest without any support.

Ria knew the male was staring at her breasts. A wonderful feeling spread throughout her being, fired by the knowledge that, without even using her special abilities, she had power over this man. She was within touching distance of the front of his machine now. Having already noted its limited capabilities and observed its inner workings, it held no interest to her. Its occupant, however, was a different matter. Unfortunately, she could not reach him from where she was standing because the front of the device was in her way. She could have walked around to the side of the machine, but she chose a different option instead.

Jed watched mesmorised as the girl leaned forward slightly, showing him even more of her amazing chest. She placed a small feminine hand on either side of the hood of his pickup. Then, incredibly, the truck began moving closer to her fabulous body. In utter disbelief he realised that the girl was pulling his vehicle towards her with her slender arms. Her face betrayed no signs of strain; she looked as if pulling trucks was no effort for her. Jed snapped out of his trance, and glanced down at the handbrake. It was on, yet the stunning young woman was drawing the pickup towards her as if it were floating on air.

He looked back at her and noticed for the first time that her hands were actually indenting the steel of the hood. More than that, she was crushing the sides of the truck inwards as she pulled, like it was made of wet cardboard. His jaw hung open. All his instincts told him to get the hell out of there, but he was transfixed by the sight of this slim, stunning girl manhandling his vehicle. Her arms were long and slender. Like the rest of her there was not a single blemish on them, but more than that, Jed realised, they were not at all muscular. There was nothing to show that they were capable of moving a three-ton pickup truck.

Ria found the stunned look on his face encouraging. Evidently, he had never seen a young female display this kind of strength. That meant that it was quite likely that she was alone on this planet in possesing such incredible power. She certainly hoped so. She smiled. Knowing that dragging this machine towards her was not testing even a tiny fraction of her full capabilities, she wondered how the male might react if she showed him a little more. A tingle of anticipation ran through her as she thought of how she would be able to directly compare his abilities to hers, once she had separated him from his primitive contraption.

She had drawn the thing right up to her body now, but the male in his cabin was still out of her reach. The bottom of the transparent screen he sat behind was level with her neck and he was straining his eyes to look downwards and see her breasts. She realised that he couldn't see through objects like she could. Her smile broadened. There seemed to be so many things he couldn't do that she could. She felt a tremendous sense of power. Coupled with her new feeling of amazing physical wellbeing, it was a truly beautiful sensation. She was beginning to like this planet.

The girl's smile was as stunning as the rest of her suggested it might be. Her brown eyes gleamed brilliantly. Her beautiful lips curled in perfect symmetry, pulling back to reveal two sets of immaculate, spirit-level straight, dazzlingly white teeth. Yet Jed was aware that there was no hint of benevolence towards him in her grin; he read it as a sign of some internal happiness, rather than a signal intended for anyone else. Still, he did not move; her beauty robbing him completely of the ability to act. He sat in the driver's seat, waiting to see what she would do next, his thoughts a strange mixture of awe, fear, curiousity and lust.

Ria decided it was time to show off a little. Besides, the man showed no intention of getting out of his machine and she wanted to bring him closer to her to study him. She lifted her hands out of the small indentations she had created in the hood of the pickup, and stretched her arms forward, placing her hands further away from her body but still on the sides of the vehicle, hoping to get a better leverage. She had to bend forward a little further to get a good grip, allowing the male to see her impossibly stunning breasts from an even more flattering angle. His blantant reaction to this only increased her feeling of power. Her hands pushed deep into the sides of the vehicle, crumpling the steel inwards beneath her delicate palms.

Slowly, she pulled the machine forwards until it was pressed against her stomach. Then she gave a quick hard tug with her hands. The front of the device was briefly lifted off the ground as it slammed into her body. The force of her pull would have propelled the machine a great distance were it not for the fact that she stood in its way. Faced with an immovable obstactle, the metal crumpled upwards against and around her body. The machine's thin casing appeared to fold up on itself whilst the more solid metal inside pushed it outwards. Suddenly, the front of the device was shorter by the length of her forearm and piled up to the height of her chest. Reaching her arms forward, she took a new hold on the sides of the machine, this time drawing it slowly towards herself.

She was reminded of her run-in with the meterorite earlier as she saw her breasts flatten a tiny amount and then, as she continued to draw her arms in, reach the limit of their give. Then it was the machine that began to flatten. For a second or two, she was amused to observe the twin indents her chest made in the metal. Her hands pushed deeper into the device as the metal creaked and groaned as it continued to wad up, utterly unable to resist her gentle pull or her smooth, slim body.

Jed was now in a state of shock. This beautiful, slim young woman was crushing his truck. Not with a enormous hydraulic press, but with her delicate small hands and feminine arms. Not against a giant steel block, but against her perfect, perfect body. At the same time her hands had pushed the sides of the hood inwards as if the truck was made of lightweight card. Her face was disappearing behind the compressed metal as she drew more and more of the pickup towards herself. There was a scream of tortured metal as the engine failed to withstand the incredible force she was exerting. He could see her plunging her hands further and further into the sides of the pickup until they were almost touching and the entire front of his truck was reduced to a small column of contorted metal.

Ria was enjoying herself. She lent forward, and her face and breasts pushed down into the pillar of crushed metal, compressing the pile still further. The base of her improvised sculpture began to collapse into the rest of the jumble. The fingers of each of her hands met on the other side of the ball of collapsed metal and a gentle tug tore the whole crumpled mess completely away from the rest of the ugly man's machine.

Without the support of the front wheels, the rest of the truck tilted forward, shaking Jed who instinctively kept his head from smacking against the steering wheel by bracing his arms. The driver's cab was now much closer to the ground and there was nothing in front of it apart from a few inches of torn metal, tubes and wires. Jed was bent forward over the wheel, his eyes now level with the girl's stomach, although the fabulous sight of her torso was hidden from him by the huge chunk of mangled steel in her arms.

In utter shock, Jed watched as the unbelievable girl continued to squeeze the lump of metal that a minute earlier had been the front half of his pickup. She went on squashing it up against herself until it was the size of a beachball. He just stared, now in a catatonic state, watching as the girl adjusted her grip before casually and one-handedly tossing the half-a-ton of compressed metal to the side as if it really was a beachball. It landed with a mighty crash a hundred yards away.

Ria smiled again, satisfied both with her work and with the man's reaction to it. It wouldn't be long now before she would have him out of this contraption.

With the mass of metal out of the way, Jed could see her whole body again. There was not a single mark on her flawless skin. Not a scratch on her perfect stomach, not a bruise on her slender arms. Her fantastic breasts looked exactly as they had done before she had crushed half a truck against them. His pickup, however, had been torn in half. What was left of it was tilted forward at an unnatural angle. He knew he ought to get out and run away from the remarkable girl, but his brain was in no state to issue instructions to his limbs. He wondered what she wanted from him, what she would do next.

Ria remembered how keen she had been to separate the male from his machine in order to compare his physical abilities with her own. Now that she had removed the front of the contraption, she was almost there. She stepped forward, her breasts now only inches from the top of the transparent panel the man was seated behind. She noticed fear in his eyes and understood for the first time that his lack of movement was due to a combination of his terror and fascination. Something deep within her seemed to awaken. The thought of this male, simultaneously scared and aroused by her, seemingly completely in her power and apparently helpless to resist her, gave her a tremendous thrill. It was a sensation the former Princess had never felt before. She liked it. Slowly, so as not to destroy the moment, she placed her open palm on the clear screen.

Jed had never been this terrified or this horny. Both feelings at the same time was more than his brain could handle. The girl was so close now, her stunning face, her wonderful breasts, almost touching his windscreen. Her hand came up and touched the glass about a foot to the right of his head. He heard the shattering sound just before the glass dissolved into a million diamond-like shards. His face suddenly burned with the pain of a dozen bee-stings and he felt blood trickling down his cheeks. He knew she must have pushed her palm through the window, and that some of the glass must have cut him. He saw that her hand, meanwhile, was totally unmarked. When he looked back at her face, she smiled once again, even broader than before.

Ria was so close to the male now. The last barrier between them had been removed. She was about to touch an inhabitant of this planet for the first time. The anticipation was almost unbearable. She had been surprised by how easily the transparent material had given way to her gentlest push and amazed to see that some of the little bits of d‚bris had punctured his skin. She had barely felt the material break under her hand, yet the same substance had drawn blood from him. Was he so much weaker, so much more vulnerable than her? Were all the people on this world so fragile compared to her? Would all their machines prove so easy to destroy?

Using her enhanced vision, she peered through what little remained of the front of the truck and saw that he was still sexually aroused despite his obvious fear and pain. She found herself getting more and more excited by the knowledge that her allure alone was strong enough to overpower his natural instincts. She felt doubly in control of the encounter - both physically and mentally. Moving incredibly slowly - partly in order to highlight her power over him and partly to increase her own enjoyment of the moment - she started to reach towards him.

The male was still frozen to the spot, his head level with her shoulders, his eyes glued to her chest. Ria knew she was completely in command of him now and revelled in the feeling it caused inside of her. Her right palm upturned, she carefully placed its fingertips under his chin, barely touching him. His skin felt rough - more uneven than a Prytkonian male, but similar enough. Remebering how fragile this creature had shown himself to be moments before, she was extremely cautious as she raised her fingers, tilting his head back a little so she could get a better look at his face.

Her touch was delicious. Jed could not believe that the soft warm fingers that were now raising his chin were the same ones he had seen crushing steel and breaking glass a few minutes before. He felt his penis spasm, ready to orgasm at any moment. She lifted his head so that his gaze now met hers and stared, helpless, into her wonderful light brown eyes, entranced by her beauty. Part of him was terrified; this young girl who had just ripped his pickup apart with her bare hands was now touching him with one of those hands. The cuts on his face hurt. His sexual organ throbbed. His heart felt like it was beating in his throat.

Ria studied the male's face for a moment. Even without all the little bleeding scars, he would still be ugly. She wanted to ask him so many questions about his planet, but she knew that they had no common language. She paused for a moment, wondering what she should do next. She needed to remove him completely from the wreckage of his travelling contraption, but was unsure how to do it; she had seen how delicate he was and she was afraid she might kill him in the process. It would be a shame if he died before she had the chance to prove just how complete her dominance over him could be. She removed her fingers from under his chin, letting his head drop once again.

The sudden movement of his skull seemed to spark something inside Jed's brain. Finally, his fear overcame his shock. He had seen this girl crush his car, and he had no desire to let her do the same thing to him. His survival took over, giving him back control of his limbs. Immediately he thrust his left hand into the little pouch on the inside of the driver's door, his fingers closing on the handle of his revolver. He whipped it out as fast as he could, removing the safety in a well-practised movement as he did so. He realised he was trembling, so he took a two-handed grip on the weapon as he pointed it at the centre of her gorgeous face. His voice was unsteady too and his throat was dry, but he managed to say what he needed to.

"That's enough, bitch."

The daughter of the last Emperor of Prytkon was intrigued. The male had broken out of his stupor and had finally made a move. She knew from his face that he was acting as quickly as he could, but he was unbelievably ponderous. She watched, loosing interest all the while, as he grabbed a small metal object. He was shaking so much he had to hold it with both his hands. Eventually he manoeuvered it so that a short protuding metal cylinder was aligned with her head. It had to be some sort of weapon. It didn't look very powerful to her so she continued to observe him without reacting. He said a few words in a pathetic voice and whilst she didn't understand, she recognised that his tone was supposed to be threatening. This was not part of her plan; the male was not supposed to intimidate her. She reached out, deliberately slowly, towards the end of the strange little device.

Jed's mind was made up for him when he saw the girl moving for his gun. He forgot his earlier shock and his lust for the girl. His fear was making the decisions now. He did not want this girl to do with him or his gun what she'd done with his truck. He squeezed the trigger, instinctively closing his eyes as he did so.

Ria spotted the ugly man pulling on a lever on his little device, and assumed he was activating it. Almost instinctively, she used her ability to alter her perception of speed, making everything seem to become incredibly slow. She saw a bright flash emerge from the end of the little cylinder of the gadget followed by a little metal pellet. Was that it? Was this pathetic thing supposed to be a weapon? Remembering the way the male had been injured by the shards of transparent material, she figured that the tiny lump of metal that seemed to be floating towards her was probably enough to kill such a weak creature. It seemed to be moving so slowly to her, but she knew that it was travelling far too fast for the the ugly male to see.

A realisation was dawning on her. If this man was carrying this puny weapon, it meant that its slow little pellets had to be effective against other inhabitants of this planet. The others were probably as vulnerable as he was. It seemed ridiculous to her that he had thought that the primitive device could harm her - after all, she had smashed a meterite with her body. But it was clear that he did, indeed, hope to hurt, perhaps even kill her. She would have to show him just how futile his efforts were.

The pellet seemed to be moving so slowly that she was able to leisurely pluck it out of the air. She relaxed her perception, allowing the universe to return to its usual speed. The male was only just opening his eyes. She guessed he had shut them before operating the weapon because he was afraid of the little flash it made. He was so pathetic. To underline that fact, she smiled down at him, holding the little pellet between her thumb and forefinger in front of his gaze. Then, just to see his reaction, she squeezed it flat between her fingertips, making sure he was watching, before she let it drop to the ground.

Jed was gripped by panic now. It was like something out of a horror film. Had she really caught and crushed the bullet? Or had he missed? But if he had, then she had produced another bullet and crushed that one. She was still smiling. He decided to fire again, a little lower this time. He concentrated on keeping his eyes open as he pulled the trigger and was rewarded with the sight of her naked left breast bouncing almost imperceptibly. The simultaneous sound of a riccocheting bullet followed a half-second later by the noise of something striking a rock fifteen yards to his right, confirmed what he feared: he'd shot her directly on the breast without effect. She was also bulletproof.

Ria found herself enjoying the light sensation of the pellet striking her breast. She enjoyed even more the look of horror on the man's face when he realised how ineffective his weapon was against her. Smiling, she grabbed the device from his hands too quickly for him to react. He yelped in pain and drew his hands to his stomach. Clearly, she had hurt his fingers just by pulling his weapon out of his hands. She reached out with her fingers once more, lifting his chin as carefully as she could. Then, with her other hand she held the device in front of his eyes, slowly, ostentatiously, crushing it in her fist.

She felt warmth in her palm and heard the sound of something inside the weapon exploding, but ignored it, letting the crushed remains of the device fall to the ground. She thrilled in the increasing terror of the male, realising that she was more in control now than ever. He was trying to speak but her fingers, so gently placed under his chin, were enough to hold his mouth shut. He removed his hands from his belly and gingerly took hold of her wrist. She could see his fingers were hurting him, but he tried to remove her hand from his chin nonetheless. His face contorted in a grimace and sweat appeared on his forehead. He was struggling for all he was worth, but she could hardly feel his hands on her delicate, feminine wrist. The smile returned to her beautiful lips.

Jed's panic was increasing. His bullets hadn't scratched her. She'd snatched his gun from him, busting a couple of his fingers and then crushed it like it was made of aluminium foil. Despite his aching hands, he was putting everything he had into his efforts to move her hand away from his chin and her slender arm was not moving - not even a hairsbreadth. Her smile told him that she wasn't finding it in the slightest bit difficult to resist him. What was she going to do with him? His sweat was pouring now. She continued to grin, and it was clear to Jed that she was enjoying his discomfort.

Ria decided that she had enough of this game. She wanted the male out of his machine, on his feet in front of her. She let go of his chin and grabbed the front of fabric around his neck, moving the two hands around her wrist as if they weren't there. She wondered if the material would be strong enough to bear his weight. There was one way to find out. As she began to pull him towards her, the creature discovered that he was now free to use his jaw and began to shout something at her. He sounded angry and above all, desparate. She ignored him, pulling him off his feet with one hand, delighting in the ease with which she could lift the big man. His two hands were still on her arm, frantically trying to dislodge her grip and failing utterly to affect her in the slightest.

Jed screamed at her to let him go, but she paid no attention. She was pulling him through the hole where his windscreen had been, one-handedly lifting his 220 pound frame without any visible discomfort. She got him all the way out, continuing to hold him, her eyes level with his chest, his legs dangling a foot off the ground. He tried to kick her, but his best efforts hurt his feet and seemed to have no effect on her shapely legs. He punched her in the stomach. It was like hitting a wall. He heard something crunch in his hand and his mind exploded with pain. When he opened his tear-filled eyes again he saw no trace of any mark on her flat belly, just a broad, triumphant grin on her face.

The exiled Princess knew the man was trying to hurt her. She couldn't even feel his blows properly, but he was clearly damaging his body against hers. She saw him preparing to punch her jaw with his less injured hand, so she smiled at him, holding the grin and not even blinking as his blow landed. There was a crunching sound just before he yelled in agony. He was still dangling from her hand, tears streaming from his eyes, useless hands hanging by his sides. He had tried to harm her and his best efforts had come to nothing. He had tried to resist her and had failed equally miserably at that, too. Meanwhile, she knew that she could do whatever she wanted with him, irrespective of whether he let her or not. He was hers now.

But something felt not quite right to her. In order to hold the taller man off the ground, she had to stretch her arm upwards. That meant she had to strain her neck to look him in the face. Ria decided that it should be him looking up at the superior being and not the other way around. She thought about putting him back down on the ground. But it was a great thrill to see him dangling helplessly from her grip. Then, an idea occurred to her. Using her self-propulsion abilities, she raised herself a few feet into the air, still "standing" upright, letting her arm bend, so that she continued to hold the male at the same height off the ground. That was much better. Now, she could look down at him whilst he dangled from her delicate-looking hand.

Jed was still trying to cope with the concept of this beautiful naked girl whose soft skin seemed completely bulletproof and as hard as steel. He'd broken both his hands trying to punch her and she just smiled back at him. Then she'd lifted him into the air with one hand, holding him there as if he weighed a couple of ounces. Now she was floating off the ground like it was the most natural thing in the world. He hung from her grip, eyes now only a few inches from her magnificent chest. Even though he was in tremendous pain, the sight of her large, impossibly firm breasts so close to his face was giving him an erection. He felt utterly humiliated. He began to beg her not to hurt him.

Ria wished she could understand the ugly creature's language. She could tell from his voice that he was pleading with her, giving up any dignity he had left. She could also tell that his organ was hard again - probably, she guessed, because she was now holding him with his face in front of her breasts. She could not believe how easy it was to control such a big man. She could feel his hot breath on her stomach coming in awkward pants.

The former princess had never experienced such a thrill; she now knew that without any significant effort on her part she could badly hurt or kill the male or, just as easily, she could give him an erection. In fact she could manipulate him in anyway she could imagine and he, for his part, was utterly powerless to stop her. She wondered if any Emperor or Empress anywhere in the universe had ever held such power. She had only just arrived on this planet. She did not speak the language, she had no army and no weapons and yet her dominance over this big man was total and unquestionable. Her lithe, feminine body was the only instrument she could possibly need to subjugate a large, strong male in every way.

Looking down at the helpless creature, Ria began to wonder. Just how complete was her control over him? She could hurt him and she could make him desire her. But could she induce in him extremes of pain and sexual arousal at the same time? If she managed it, it would be the ultimate demonstration of her dominance. She had to find out if it was possible.

Carefully, she bent her elbow, bringing the male's dangling body a little closer to her own, so that her large, pink nipples were almost touching his temples. Holding her body completely still, she pulled him even closer and moved her arm gently from left to right. The effect of this casual movement was that the big man's ugly face was brushed across her large, round, impossibly firm breasts.

To her delight, the male's strong neck muscles proved no match for her softest, most womanly flesh. The impact with her creamy feminine mounds knocked his rough masculine head sharply to the side and made him yell out in pain. Ria wasn't sure if his obvious agony was caused by pressure against the cuts already on his face, or whether it was the result of fresh injuries inflicted by her breasts themselves. She studied his pain-contorted features. New, dark bruises were already beginning to form on the man's cheeks, confirming that he had, indeed, been wounded by the light contact with her chest.

The assassinated Emperor's daughter thrilled in the knowledge that she possessed so much physical dominance over her victim. But she soon recalled that she had intended to demonstrate her sexual power over him too. She removed her amused gaze from the big man's tortured face and used her enhanced sight to see under his clothes. His penis was still fully erect; in fact, it was quivering slightly as if it was ready to erupt any moment. She had expected his passion to have been cooled by the terrible pain he was clearly suffering, but if anything, he was more aroused then before.

Delighted with what she had observed, Ria decided to repeat her experiment, moving her arm from right to left this time as she skimmed his face on her chest once more. His head was knocked to the other side like a loosing boxer receiving a particularly well-placed blow and he screamed again. She saw the fresh bruises mingling with the ever increasing signs of damage on his face and saw his shaft throbbing excitedly under his clothes.

She had never felt so in control of anything before, let alone a muscular and much older man who was twice her size, and she was enjoying the sensation. She found herself laughing as she stroked the big man's face across her chest for a third time. The result was indentical. He screamed as his head was violently swatted from one side to the other.

Ria couldn't believe what a thrill it was to see the large, strong man crying in pain because his tough masculine face could not stand being gently "caressed" by her soft, feminine bosoms. The skin on his cheeks and around his eyes was covered in bruises and already beginning to swell and the cuts he had sustained from the breaking windshield had been re-opened and were oozing blood. And yet, despite the agony her mounds had caused him, she could clearly see that those same breasts had driven him to the point of orgasm. She felt like a godess.

Jed looked up at the unbelievable girl, imploring her with his tear-filled eyes to stop. He'd been in a few fights in his time, and had been punched in the face by some pretty big and pretty tough guys, but their best shots were nothing compared to the agony he suffered every time this slim young girl brushed his face across her seemingly soft chest. But, at the same time, the repeated contact between his battered face and her large, round breasts was turning him on even more, pushing him closer and closer to an uncontrollable climax, even as she caused him so much pain. She was just so beautiful and so sexy.

Ria was openly laughing now; letting the male know how much she was enjoying herself at his expense. She decided it was time to conclude her little experiment with him. Bending her arm, she brought the big, helpless man closer to herself again. This time she positioned his face between her breasts, pulling his head into the deep valley of her cleavage until he let out a muffled scream. She heard a slight cracking sound, and realised that she had broken his cheekbones. She knew he had to be in terrible pain, but despite that, she could feel his throbbing erection pressing eagerly against her thigh. He was so pathetic.

Ria placed her free hand on the back of his head, gently so as not to crush his skull to powder, but firmly enough to hold him in place. Then, she removed her other hand from his collar, letting her arm hang by her side. She was still floating a few feet above the ground. His feet hung quite a bit lower than hers, although they were also well clear of the dusty earth. But only she was defying gravity, using what she called her self-propulsion abilities. The male was off the ground because he was being held there. Or rather his head was being held - wedged between her large, round breasts and secured by her palm placed on the back of his skull.

Jed had never had his head locked in a steel vice, but he was certain such an experience would be less painful then what was now happening to him. His already battered face was now being crushed at the sides by the girl's wonderful but lethal breasts. He knew some bones had been pulverised by the intolerable pressure of her seemingly soft feminine mounds; he'd heard the crunch. He could certainly feel the pain. It was hard for him to breathe. What little air he did manage to force into his lungs was heavily infused by her scent, making his penis so erect, it burned. The extremes of agony and sexual arousal fogged his mind. One instant, he felt he was about to orgasm, the next he was convinced he would pass out from pain. He wanted to hit her, to make her release him, but he lacked the strength or co-ordination and his wounded hands remained immobile. His entire heavy body dangled hopelessly from her cleavage.

Ria was suddenly disappointed. The male wasn't even trying to fight against her now. It was much more entertaining when he had put up some resistance. Now that she had broken his spirit, she was getting bored with him. She glanced down at the big man imprisoned between her breasts. It was time to bring their acquaintance to an end. She pressed a tiny bit harder on the back of his head. He screamed again. There was another crunching sound and a trickle of blood ran down her immaculate stomach.

Jed wouldn't have thought it was possible, but the pain became even greater. She was forcing his face even further into her wonderful cleavage. His battered cheeks felt as if they were on fire as a piece of shattered bone pierced his skin. He was certain he was about to black out. And then, it seemed as if everything in the universe was her breasts. They overpowered his senses. They pressed against his eyes. He could taste them. Their indescribable scent filled his mouth and nostrils. He felt himself orgasming in huge, painful spasms. Then everything went black.

Ria had to smile. Even as she had killed him, the pathetic male's lust for her had overwhelmed him. And as for the way she had ended his life! He was so much bigger than her; taller and much heavier. But with no effort she had crushed his hard male skull against her soft female breasts. He had never stood a chance against her. His weapon had proven useless. She hadn't even felt his best efforts to hurt her with his hands or his feet. And all the while she had inflicted terrible pain on him and his lust for her had just grown and grown. In the end, he was still shaking from his climax as she easily crushed him to death, using just one hand to pulverise his face against her bosom . Her father the Emperor had never excersized so much power over a single being.

She pulled the bloody remains of the big man's head out of her cleavage and let his lifeless body fall to the ground. There were so many questions in her mind. Could she really have discovered a planet populated solely by creatures so much weaker and so much more vulnerable than her? Would all its males be as easy to control as the one she had just effortlessly destroyed? Did they possess any weapons that could harm her? Ria thought about the way she had been robbed of her destiny to become Empress of her homeworld and how she had come to be on this unknown alien planet. On Prytkon, her only right to rule had been her parentage. Here, she seemed to possess more power in her slender body than all the combined armies of her imperial ancestors.

Leaving the male's corpse to rot, she tensed her muscles and soared straight upwards into the atmosphere. The friction caused by the speed of her ascent instantly vaporised the splashes of blood and gore from her body. Ria wondered whether the people of the planet already had a word for the Prytkonian "Empress."

 

Conceptfan, Nov. 2001.

Chapter 3

Still glowing with an unbelievable feeling of power, Ria looked downwards. Her eyes had no difficulty making out details on the ground, even though it was the middle of the night and she was forty thousand feet up, on the other side of a thick bank of cloud. She saw two of the planet's peculiar transport devices, one following the other along some sort of track. Decorated in a strange green and brown pattern, they looked slightly smaller than the one she had ripped apart earlier. Also, these machines were open to the sky whereas the first one she had encountered had been enclosed, forcing her to tear through part of it to get to the man inside.

From her vantage point, she counted two males in each vehicle. Her curiosity was aroused. She studied the group intently. All four of them were indentically dressed in fabrics of the same green and brown design as their travelling machines. Each had a strange circular object on his head. She noticed that one of the men in each machine seemed to be carrying a contraption that looked like a larger version of the primitive weapon she had seen earlier. The others had their hands on the large circular things that seemed to appear in all transport devices. She understood it was some sort of controller when first one then the other was turned and the two transporters left the track they were following.

They were heading straight for the spot where she had first touched the planet's surface. She decided to investigate and allowed herself to fall with the planet's gravity to a position much closer to the ground. These four males seemed much fitter than the first one she had met. She wondered if they were as weak as he had been. She watched as the two transporters came to a halt right next to the lifeless body she had dropped minutes before. The four men left their travelling machines and began to walk about, holding peculiar devices - instruments of some kind she guessed. They began to examine everything in sight. 

Twelve thousand feet above them, the Prytkonian girl found that, by concentrating, she could hear their conversations. Clearly, her hearing had been as dramatically improved as her eyesight. After only a few minutes, she realised that she was already beginning to recognise a few words of their language. She knew it should have taken years for her to understand an alien tongue, but every few seconds she felt as if she was absorbing the meaning of another phrase. Could this accelerated learning also be a new ability? What else was she still to discover about her new, enhanced self?

Forty miles away, and back on the ground, the regional Army HQ was on full alert. An mysterious object had been spotted falling to Earth. Four men armed with weapons and a host of scientific instrumentation were immediately dispatched in two jeeps. They radioed in to say that they had found no trace of any meteorite. Instead, they had found the body of a man whose face looked like it had been crushed in a giant nutcracker. His jeans were stained with his semen. Nearby was the remains of his pickup truck, the whole front of which seemed to have been torn off. It was found, compressed into a rough ball about a hundred yards away.

All in all, it was enough for base commander Mathers to send for a national unit that specialised in this sort of inexplicable discovery. In the meantime, the four men on the scene were given orders to secure the area and keep watch for anything unusual. They searched the ground, but found no craters. Their instruments detected no radiation, no sign of any impact, no sign of anything abnormal. Then one of the men noticed a small patch of dusty ground that appeared to have been burnt by a very hot, but small object. The others set up an arc light and shone it on the area in question.

There was a collective gasp from the four men. Appearing from nowhere at the burnt spot, and leading all the way to the front of the truncated pickup where it mysteriously stopped, was a trail of footprints. Even the least intelligent of the four men knew immediately that the prints had unmistakeably been made by the delicate bare feet of a human female. They certainly hadn't been made by the dead man lying next to the end of the trail. But they couldn't understand why the prints appeared and disappeared so abruptly. Where had this mysterious girl come from? Where had she gone to? There were no signs of any other vehicle tracks. 

They radioed in their findings. Was it possible that the girl had been in the pickup with the dead man; that she had climbed out through the broken windshield and then walked backwards about fifteen yards before vanished in a white-hot puff of smoke? The mystery was deepening. Mathers passed the latest details on to the specialist investigation unit that was on its way to the scene. He decided against alerting the other authorities. The commander was no fool. He knew he wouldn't be able to ask the police to look out for anything unusual without giving any descriptions or details; it would only arouse suspicion. So life at Burpford Army Base continued as if everything was normal. 

Meanwhile, up in the sky, Ria continued to eavesdrop on the dialogues taking place on the planet's surface. She began to understand more and more of the language. She knew now that the four males were from the local military and that they were looking for an unknown object that they believed had fallen from outer space. They'd found a series of impressions on the ground and could not work out why the trail started and ended abruptly. Nor did they know what had happened to the dead male or his travelling machine which she now knew was called a "truck." They kept speculating about a "girl" - obviously the word for a young female - who had left the marks on the ground. 

Clearly, they had never encountered a "girl" or any other similar being with self-propulsion capabilities, or one with sufficient strength to crush the front of a truck. She was beginning to be more and more certain that she alone on this planet possessed such remarkable abilities. If that was true, it would mean that she had unbelievable power over every single inhabitant of this world. More power than she would have held as Empress of Prytkon. In fact, far, far more power than every ruler in the history of her homeworld combined. 

Smiling with self-contentment, Ria observed the men far below her, all the while listening to their conversations and picking up more and more of their language. She heard discussions over their crude communications device or "radio" and increased her vocabulary still further. With her remarkable vision skills, she studied the physiques of the four soldiers. Such big, strong men, she thought. Would they be as weak and as fragile as the first male she had enountered on this planet? 

Eager to find out, she tensed her leg muscles and let herself drop quickly down to the centre of the small group of men, decelerating at the last second to land gracefully on her feet, her knees not even bending a little to absorb the impact. There was a collective intake of breathe all around her. The four shocked faces amused her greatly. It took the men quite a while to recover their composures. Once they had, they began to stare, still open-mouthed, at her body. That amused her too. She smiled.  

Corporal Jones was stunned. He knew something bizarre was going on, but this was unbelievable. A stunningly beautiful naked girl had dropped like a rocket from the sky, coming to an incredibly short stop , landing on her feet right in the middle of them. Jones stared at her feet. Pretty, feminine feet. He knew straight away that he was looking at the feet that had made the prints near the busted pick-up. Had this young girl been responsible for whatever had happened to the front of the pickup? Did she have something to do with the death of the truck's driver too? 

Instinctively, the corporal's eyes scanned upwards. She was standing in profile to him. He took in her ankles, her perfect unblemished, shapely legs, her beautifully rounded hips and her wonderfully flat stomach. He stared a little too long at the magnificent curve of her breast and the stunning profile of her immaculate nipples, before moving on to the perfection of her pout and the rest of her stunning face. Then, he let his eyes run down her body again. He'd never, ever seen a girl as remarkable as she was. He felt his body responding to the sight of her, the bottom half of his uniform becoming much tighter. 

Jones was forced out of his reverie by the sound of her voice. "Hello, soldiers" she said. Her voice was melodic and sensual yet with a hint of authority. When she spoke, she revealed her immaculate gums and teeth. Jones could see her beauty was having a similar effect on his three colleagues. As the man in charge, he knew he was the default spokesman. It was his duty to pull himself together and address the girl. The question foremost on his mind was "What are you doing when I get off duty?" but he was professional enough to ask the next most obvious thing.

"Where are you from?"

She understood his question and gave her reply: "Prytkon."

"Where's Prytkon?"

 

She looked up at the night sky for a few moments. Nothing was familiar to her. She had no idea where she was, so how could she know where her home was in relation. She just pointed at the sky and said "Up". The faces around her told her that she had been understood. She was getting the hang of this language. Emboldened, she asked a question of her own, based on her curiosity and something she'd overheard when the four men were talking amongst themselves.

"Here is Burpford?"

Corporal Jones' response betrayed his state of mind. "Err.. No, miss." he replied.

"Errnomiss is the name of here?" She asked.

Jones realised that despite her total lack of an accent, the girl didn't seem to speak much English. He decided to keep things simple.

He spoke slowly. "You are on United States territory."

She didn't understand. She decided to leave it for now. She had other questions to ask. She wanted to know where the planet's ruler was, but she had only picked up one word for a person of authority. She hoped they would understand.

"Where is the commander?"

 

Corporal Jones froze. He didn't like the tone of her demand and he wasn't about to give information to a potentially hostile alien, albeit a naked, beautiful alien. He didn't see what she would want with Mathers anyway. After a second's thought, he opted for good old repetition to get his point across.

"You are on United States Territory. You are now under the custody of the U.S. Army"

This time she partly figured it out: he was trying to tell her that she was somewhere she shouldn't be. As for the second part of what he had said, well that was a mystery. Was he taking her to the planetary ruler? Even if he was, she wasn't prepared to travel at the excruciatingly slow speeds of the planet's transporters. She'd rather he just told her where the ruler was so that she could make her make her own way there. She spoke with an extra degree of insistence. "Where is the commander? Say me now."

There was a hint of assertiveness in the stunning, strange girl's voice that unnerved the corporal. He was thinking of a suitable reply, when the radio crackled into life. Private Gillano glanced at his superior who nodded. Tentatively, keeping his eyes fixed on the beautiful girl - or at least on her chest - the private answered the call. Watching the alien all the while, he proved disciplined and intelligent enough to be able to describe the group's current situation. Then the commander instructed him to pass the radio over to the corporal and he obeyed, being careful not to move too close to the naked girl as he handed over the communicator. Watching her beautiful face, Gillano noted that she seemed deeply unimpressed by the activity around her. 

While the girl stood motionless about ten yards away from him, Corporal Jones adjusted the volume control and put the radio to the side of his head. Mathers' orders were intended for his ears only. He was to hold the alien girl at his current location until the government team arrived. He was permitted to use the threat of weapons - even allowed to cause some minor wounding if absolutely neccessary. He was forbidden from revealing any information whatsoever to her. He was to keep the radio with him at all times and to report frequently on developments. Under no circumstances was he to allow the alien to leave his sight. 

Of course, Ria's superior senses meant that she could hear every syllable of the secret conversation. She even understood quite a bit of it. She was learning new words all the time, finding out about the subtleties of the language. Things like the difference between "say" and "tell" or the way to express past, present or future. It was clear that the male called "Corporaljones" had been given instructions to do something with her - against her will if need be. He was also instructed not to give her any information if she requested it. Neither of these two orders fitted with her plans. It was time for her to start imposing her will on these creatures. 

The exiled Princess turned until she was facing the man with the radio, interrupting his conversation. "Corporaljones, I will go to the commander. You will tell me where is."

Base Commander Mathers heard her over the radio. "Is that her?" he asked, incredulity in his voice.

"Yes sir, she's -"

The girl interrupted him again. "Corporaljones. You will tell me where is the commander now." Forty miles away, Mathers heard her demand loud and clear. This was exactly the kind of shit he was hoping to avoid before the government team arrived. Perhaps he could use diplomacy to diffuse the situation. Perhaps if he could speak to this mystery girl himself...

"Pass her the receiver" he ordered his corporal. 

Jones held the radio towards the stunning alien, taking a step in her direction. One instant, he was walking towards her, she was eight yards away and he was offering her the crackling radio. Then, without any warning, she seemed to become a blur. A fraction of a second later he felt a burning pain in his hand and a mangled bit of silent electronic junk lay at his feet. Suddenly the girl was only a few feet away from him. She must have moved at lightening speed, knocking the radio out of his hand with amazing ferocity. He looked at her gorgeous face, at the remains of the radio and then at his injured hand. His palm was bleeding. 

Back at Burpford, Base commander Mathers was physically shaking. Why had the radio gone dead when he had ordered his corporal to pass it over to the alien? Why was that alien - descibed as a naked young girl - so eager to know where he was? Her reported appearence fit in with the strange footprints found by his men earlier, but his men on the ground had confirmed that she wasn't carrying or wearing anything - no clothes, no jet pack, no weapon. Had she been responsible for the ruined truck and mutilated civillian too? Without a weapon? And what had she done to the radio? What about his men? 

The commander relayed the latest developments to the party of government agents who were en route to the area. To Mathers' great anger, the government men pulled rank on him, instructing him not to send any more men to the scene, despite his concern for the four already there. He closed the door to his office, poured himself a large whisky and knocked it back in two big swallows. He had a strange feeling in his gut about everything that was going on. There was some kind of naked alien girl running - or possibly flying - around. There was a good chance that it was true that she'd beaten up a pickup, and killed a man. Now she was with four of his men, their radio mysteriously gone dead. He hoped the national security guys would be there before long. 

In fact, they were still an half an hour's drive away. In the government car the three middle aged men in suits discussed the latest information from the commander of the military base nearest the unknown object's believed point of impact. None of them had any experience that even came close to what had been described to them. They passed the information back to their supervisors in the capital and awaited further instructions. They was an air of excitement in the car. This was big stuff. Big enough that someone would be waking the President pretty soon. 

Meanwhile, at the very spot towards which the government team was headed, Corporal Jones stood face to face, just a few feet away from the alien herself. Holding his injured palm in his other hand, he stared down at the shattered remains of his radio. He had seen the beautiful girl in front of him moving at superhuman speed before smashing the communicator with incredible force from his grasp. He realised then that it was more than likely that she had also ripped up the pickup and possibly had killed its driver as well.  

He looked back at her, unable to resist the temptation of staring at her fantastic breasts. Despite the pain of his hand and the seriousness of his situation, Jones found himself fantasising as he gazed at the superhuman alien girl's suitably superhuman chest. He imaged his head resting between her two big, round, unfeasably firm bosoms. Suddenly, the image of the pickup driver's mutilated head flickered into his mind. Was that how the dead man had received his fatal injuries? By being crushed between this young girl's magnificent tits? "Oh, fuck." said the corporal, under his breath. 

Ria was delighted with her language-learning progress. She instantly recognised the expletive and its significance. She knew that this "Corporaljones" was scared of her. Simultaneously, she could see that he and his colleagues were deeply attracted to her. She felt certain that she would have no trouble getting what she wanted from them now. The fact that the three other soldiers had reacted to her assault on the communicator by grabbing what she assumed were their weapons, was irrelevant to her. She'd seen enough of this planet to be confident that the devices posed no threat to her. 

The former Princess was about to repeat her demand for information when she realised that one of the men encircling her clearly wasn't so sure of her invulnerability. From behind her, she heard the sound of something being clicked. Remembering the small pellet-producing device wielded by the first man she had met on the planet, she knew immediately that the noise had been made by a weapon being prepared. Her keen ears instantly indentified that the source of the sound was standing directly behind her. It was the one the others called Linsky. He shouted something at her which she did not understand, but his tone made it obvious that he was issuing some kind of command. Ria resolved to teach him and his colleagues not to give her orders. 

Jones heard Linsky shout "Put your hands up and slowly move away from the corporal!" at the girl and wondered if his man was being brave or just stupid. Whichever it was, the alien seemed to be paying him no attention so Linsky decided to try again. "Move away from the corporal NOW!" he barked. Again she ignored him, standing motionless and expressionless in front of Jones. Following his training to the letter, Linsky squeezed off a warning shot, aiming it about a foot over the girl's left shoulder. Instantly, her left arm flashed out in a blur. A fraction of a moment later, Jones saw her turning over between her slender fingers something that looked very much like a spent bullet. She had reached out and caught a rifle slug fired from a few yards behind her back! 

Ria didn't know if the one called Linsky had intentionally directed his little metal pellet so that it would pass close to her without making contact, or if he had just been inaccurate with his weapon. Either way, she was annoyed with him. Whether he'd meant to hurt her or just intimidate her, giving orders and using weapons was no way to behave towards a superior being. She decided to teach all four of the men standing around her a lesson. 

It was easy to trap the pellet in her hand even though she had not seen it being launched or observed its flight. She simply had to concentrate on the sound it made as it passed through the air and then leisurely hold out her hand to capture it before holding it up to show the quartet of soldiers that she had indeed snatched it mid-flight. Once she had done that, the daughter of the last Emperor of Prytkon knew she had the full attention of her audience. Enjoying the opportunity to display her superiority, she slowly squeezed her thumb and forefinger together, making sure that the males could see the pellet inexorably deforming in her grip until it had become a small, flat disc. 

Ria was satisfied that she had sufficiently demonstrated just how powerless against her the weapon and its small bit of metal were. Now, she was ready to show off her power against them. She looked at the mangled bit of metal in her palm. As Linsky was the one who had tried to give her an order and had then sent the pellet in her direction, she thought it would only be right to return the compliment. She did not have to turn around to know the exact location of her target. Although he was some yards behind her, she could hear not only Linsky's breath, but his heartbeat as well. She languidly raised her arm. Without bothering to move her head, she casually tossed the little chunk of metal over her shoulder. 

The corporal watched in horror as Linsky's head appeared to explode. The decapitated body fell to the ground with a sickening thump, surrounded on all sides by gore. Jones' brain and eyes were no where near quick enough to have seen the deformed bullet in flight as it rocketed from the young girl's hand, but he knew immediately what had happened. The alien had killed Linsky with his own squashed slug just by throwing it back at him. She hadn't even turned around to check where the private had been standing. And yet she'd hit him with enough force and accuracy to obliterate his skull.

Corporal Jones looked at the incredible stranger. She was smiling. This beautiful, naked alien girl standing only a few feet in front of him had just killed one of his men. And now she was smiling at him, letting him know that she was utterly delighted to have taken a life so casually and effortlessly. Jones had never been so scared, but he still thought of the safety of his men. He saw his two remaining privates raising their machine guns in preparation to avenge Linsky. He wanted to tell them not to shoot, to just get the hell away from her, but it was too late. Simultaneously, they opened fire on the girl's flanks with their automatic weapons.

It was an incredible sight. Two streams of fire from high callibre weapons hitting her beautiful naked body. From the alien's perspective, one was coming from nine o'clock, the other from five o'clock. The scene reminded Jones of a pair of water jets hitting a steel column. The bullets sprayed off her body, piling up on the ground on either side of her. She did not flinch. She did not blink. She remained totally still. If her face revealed any emotion, then it was boredom. The corporal thought he could see her fantastic round breasts bouncing slightly every time one of them took a direct hit. Robbed of the ability to speak by the awesome sight in front of him, he just stared. This girl was incredible. And very, very scary.

Ria was completely disinterested in the two males playing with their useless toys. But, although she knew that their leader, Corporaljones, was the best possible source of the information she required, she feared that the other two might actually harm him with their clumsy weapons before he could tell her want she wanted. Besides, she was angry that they had dared to try and harm her. They obviously had not learnt anything from the death of their colleague. Quite calmly, she instructed them, "Stop!" They paid no attention, continuing to pepper her sides with their pathetic pellets, still hoping that they might hurt her. Coroporaljones continued to simply stare at her with open-mouthed disbelief. The exiled Princess decided that enough was enough.

Jones saw her become a blur once again. A fraction of a second later, she was still once more, standing exactly where she had been a few feet from him. Suddenly, instead of the sound of two machine guns and thousands of ricochetting rounds, there was silence. She was holding a machine gun in each hand. He realised she must have moved at near lightening speed to grab both guns. The corporal could see the barrels of the two weapons bending slightly under the pressure of her casual grip. Her fingers were bloody. He wondered if the blood was hers. But there wasn't a single mark anywhere on her immaculately smooth skin. She had been hit thousands of times from close range and yet there wasn't even a scratch or a bruise on her beautiful naked flesh.

So where had the blood on the girl's fingers come from? There was a scream to Jones' left. He had to force himself to look. Gillano's face was almost impossible to see, hidden by a jet of blood that was gushing from his wrist. His hand was dangling at a sickening angle by a tiny piece of skin. Jones guessed that the alien had grabbed Gillano's gun from his grasp so quickly and violently that she had ripped the poor man's hand off with it. The private passed out and collapsed in a heap, a pool of blood rapidly growing around his terrible wound.

Jones knew that his man would bleed to death without immediate treatment. He took a sideways step towards the unwilling amputee and found his way blocked by something warm, smooth and incredibly hard. When he looked, he saw it was her arm. He placed both his hands on it, leaning with all his weight on her slender arm, trying to move it. It didn't budge a hairsbredth. He removed his right hand from her arm, curled it into a fist and punched her in the stomach. He heard the bones in his hand crunch. The pain was excruciating. He saw the girl smiling at him again, clearly enjoying his discomfort. He looked at the unmoving Gillano and the blood still flooding from his open wrist. "Please - I must help that man!"

The alien's smile remained constant. Jones tried to move to the side again and her arm flashed out once more, providing an utterly immoveable barrier. He called out to his other private "Marshall! Help him!" There was no response. He turned to see why his order wasn't being obeyed. He saw only empty sky. Slowly, he looked downwards. Marshall was lying on the ground. Or rather, bits of Marshall were lying on the ground. In several different places.

Even in the dark of night it was a stomach-turning sight. Jones turned back to face the girl, horrified to see that she was still grinning. "You killed my men!" he said, more in disbelief than accusation. Her only response was to bend her arms, so that she was holding the two guns she had captured in front of his face. The corporal had no choice but to watch transfixed as the beautiful alien squeezed her two fists, deforming the gun barrels until the pressure of her unearthly grip melted and then vapourised a section of the middle of each weapon. Four pieces scrap metal that had been a pair of machine guns fell at her dainty feet.

The expression on her face remained constant, even as she destroyed the weapons. There wasn't so much as a flicker in her stunning light brown eyes. Her easy smile was fixed throughout so that Jones could see that she was making no particular effort to crush the military steel. Then, the grin dramatically vanished to be replaced by a scowl. She spoke once more. "Tell me where is the commander."

"I... I... don't know." Jones said, courageously. In his time in the military he had experienced real fighting many times. He had been in battle, had faced enemy fire. But he'd never been this scared before. He was certain that his life was about to be ended by this incredible alien girl. She'd already killed three of his men with ease. He could not defeat her, could not subdue her. He had failed to carry out his orders to detain her. At least he would die a hero. At least he would obey the order about not giving her any information. It wasn't much but it was the only option left available to him. He closed his eyes, expecting the death blow imminently.

Nothing happened. He opened his eyes and saw the girl standing in front of him, her arms by her sides as she had been before. Her scowl had grown a little angrier, but otherwise she hadn't moved at all. She took a couple of steps towards him, the very slight bounce of her breasts as she walked hypnotising him, forcing him to keep watching even though his terror was screaming for him to shut his eyes. The corporal couldn't belive the wasy she moved; so fluid, so confident. And her the way breasts bobbed so seductively! She stopped about two feet away from him, her eyes level with his chin.

Very slowly, with her right hand, the alien girl reached forward. Jones watched her intently, trying hard not to let his fear become too obvious, fighting with himself so as not to tremble. From her petite feminine hand, she extended her slender middle finger and carefully hooked it under the waistband of his uniform. A gentle tug was all she needed to snap his thick leather ammunition belt and the elastic of both his camouflage trousers and his shorts. The broken belt fell around his ankles.

Jones watched, immobilised by shock as the girl pulled violently at the torn fabric in her hand, ripping his trousers and shorts off him completely and discarding the torn material behind her. He saw her looked down at his exposed erection and smile once more. He was beginning to shake. She reached up, again one handed, to take a firm grip on the collar of his shirt by hooking her fingers on the material around his neck. She had to lean forward a little as she did so, thrusting out her magnificent chest even further so that he forget his terror for a second. Another quick yank, and she'd torn away the fronts of his shirt and vest. Except for the torn bits of cloth hanging on his back and arms, he was totally naked before her, frozen in his simultaneous fear and arousal.

Once she had stripped him of his clothes, the alien girl let her hands fall to her sides once more, taking a half-step in his direction so that their faces were now only about twelve inches apart. The end of his engorged sexual organ was about half that distance from her smooth flat belly, but when Jones looked down, he could hardly see his hungry penis. His view was almost completely obscured by her two large, impossibly firm and immaculately round breasts. That remarkable sight made his shaft quiver even more anxiously with readiness. The utter perfection of this girl was almost too much for his mind to take in. The corporal found it difficult to believe that this beautiful, slender angel had killed four much bigger men in the past few hours, three of them right in front of his eyes.

Suddenly, Jones noticed that the girl's big, gravity-defying breasts were moving. They were rising upwards, slowly and perfectly smoothly. Then he realised. The whole body was rising. She was levitating, lifting herself into the air, her feet now a few inches clear of the ground. For a few incredible moments, her proud pink nipples were exactl level with his eyes, only a few inches away from his widening pupils. At that instant, Jones thought he was about to orgasm, but he just about managed to regain control. The girl continued to float upwards. Soon, he found he was craning his neck to maintain his trance-like eye contact with her chest. He tore his gaze away for a moment and glanced down. Her feet were now hovering level with his knees.

The alien held her position, floating on air as if it were the most natural thing to do in the world. Jones stared, paralysed by his conflicting emotions of fear and sexual excitement, as the unbelievable girl raised her hand slightly and gently cupped his chin. Her touch felt exquisite to him. She slowly lifted his head until their eyes met. Instinctively, the corporal tried to push his chin down against her hand but she seemed not to even notice his efforts, holding his head firm. Her bright eyes looked scornfully down at him. He found himself returning her gaze, unable to mask the awe, fear and lust on his face. In slightly clipped tones, she asked her question once again.

"Where is the commander?"

Jones was openly trembling now. He struggled to muster the self-control required for a reply. "I.. I am under orders to give you no information." he offered, weakly.

Ria was surprised. Why was the male still trying to resist her? Surely he could now she the extent of her superiority and her power over him. After all he was shaking with fear and she could see in his eyes the confusion caused by his obvious desire for her body. The exiled Princess looked at the most prominent sign of that desire. Suddenly, she knew exactly what she was going to do with this male. She smiled in wicked anticipation. Then she lifted his chin an extra few millimeters and, looking directly down into his eyes, said calmly and confidently, "I will go to the commander. You will tell me where."

As the superhuman alien girl spoke, her sweet warm breath washed over Corporal Jones' face, carrying his lust to newer, even higher levels. The movement of her lips and the flashes of her perfect teeth and her sexy tongue as she uttered each syllable only added to the effect. At the same time, the assuredness with which she pronounced her words also reminded Jones of the incredible power his tormentor possessed. He was simultaneously inflamed with passion for her and petrified of what she might do to him. If the girl's immoveable fingers weren't holding his head up, Jones' jaw would have been hanging open as she floated a few inches nearer to him.

With her dainty hand still under his chin, she slowly bent his neck back so that he was looking sharply upwards at the exquisite curve of the underneath of her unearthly breasts. Then she spoke again. "Tell me where is the commander."

Jones was loosing control. His breath was coming in thick pants, his forehead breaking out in rivulets of sweat. He felt the base of his manhood spasming in preparation for an enormous ejaculation. He stammered out "I.. am.. under.. orders.. not.. to.. " The alien girl floated a little closer still until her knees were touching his thighs. The corporal felt his orgasm about to erupt within his loins. And then, at that precise instant, his mind exploded with unimaginable pain. Instead of the wonderful release he was expecting, he felt a terrible burning sensation in his organ. He screamed. Looking down, Jones saw that the girl had clamped his throbbing shaft between her silky, shapely, unworldly firm thighs.

The sight of the stunning naked alien wrapped around his penis made Jones' testicles spasm violently once again, but the unbearably tight grip of the girl's thighs on his sexual organ was utterly preventing his orgasm from finding its longed-for release. The pressure inside him was intolerable. Tears began to stream from the corporal's eyes. He tried to push her away. The pain in his broken hand only added to his suffering. The girl didn't even shift a thousandth of an inch. Her only reaction was to lean her glorious upper body forward until her nipples brushed his face - too gently to damage his skin, but more than effectively enough to make him spasm and scream again. She curved her back until her superlative breasts were directly in front of his agony-filled face, letting them swing almost imperceptibly from side to side.

The pain of his unreleaseable orgasm became so great that Jones found himself praying for his own swift death. It was no good. He could no longer hold out. If she wouldn't relax her grip on him and allow him to ejaculate, he feared his testicles and his brain would explode. Through clenched teeth, using breath that he had to struggle for, he blurted "Burpford! Burpford! Burpford Army Base! Please... Let Me... Go!..." But the alien girl made no attempt to release him. If anything, Jones thought, she seemed to exaggerate the subtle movement of her incredible breasts, holding them so oh so close to his face. To Jones' horror, the supremely erotic display increased the terrible pressure in his loins even further.

At last, Ria thought, the male has realised the futility of resisting. She had him completely in her power, physically dominating him, sexually controlling him. She knew that he would tell her everything she wanted. Already, he had given her the name of the place where she would find the one called "commander" - the figure of authority whose voice she had heard on this Corporaljones' communications device. All she needed from him now was information on where she could find this "Burpford". Keeping her left hand steady on his chin, the Prytkonian Emperor's daughter swept her free hand along a stretch of the horizon. Looking downwards into the tortured male's eyes once again, she instructed, "Tell me where is Burpford."

A good soldier doesn't need a compass. Even in his painful and desperate state, Corporal Jones was able to remember where he was in relation to the road. So great was his agony by now, that he was prepared to do anything to make it stop. With his trembling, less injured hand he pointed, shakily, in a north-easterly direction. His reward for his enforced co-operation was instant. The beautiful alien girl relaxed her unearthly thighs, floating quickly upwards and backwards a few yards. Jones involuntarily closed his eyes, hardly aware that he was falling to his knees as his seminal fluid arced in huge, painful bursts onto the dusty ground. The spasms continued with unabated force while he wept as he thought of his sexual humiliation and his failure to carry out his duty.

The corporal's feeling of relief was soon overtaken by a new discomfort. The inhuman pressure exerted by the alien girl's seemingly soft round thighs had caused extensive internal and external bruising on the most sensitive part of his body. Even as he continued to orgasm, he felt his loins burning and aching terribly. His ejaculation seemed to go on forever. When it finally ended, he found himself curled on the ground, his body caked in dirt and tears as well as his juice. With a great effort, he raised his head off the dry earth.

It took him a few moments to blink the tears from his eyes and recover enough muscle control to focus them properly. He surveyed the carnage all around; the three corpses of his colleagues, the dead truck driver and his mutilated vehicle, the two piles of spent, battered machine gun bullets and the shattered remains of his radio. There was no sign anywhere of the slender young girl who had single-handedly, and seemingly happily, caused it all. Jones' brain and body could no longer cope with it all. He slipped rapidly into a welcoming unconsciousness.

Ten thousand feet directly above him, Ria looked down at her latest victim and smiled broadly. She had enjoyed humiliating him, using not only her invulnerability and her vastly superior strength, but also her irresistible femininity to control him against his will. The former Princess tried to absorb the growing certainty of her supremacy on this planet. She thrilled with the sensation of power.

 

Conceptfan, Nov. 2001.

Chapter 4

Hovering motionless in the strange planet's atmosphere, Ria found herself faced with a decision. A large part of her wanted to speed off in the direction that Corporaljones had indicated for Burpford and the "commander". Having experienced the thrill of overpowering ordinary males, she was excited by the prospect of similarly dominating their leaders like this "commander". Ria felt that if she could force her new home-world's existing governors to yield to her power, their populations would follow and her destiny to become a supreme ruler would be fulfilled. The very thought of it thrilled her. Just contemplating herself as a subjugator of men, let alone as a leader of an entire planet, excited every fibre of her being.

But the Prytkonian girl did not immediately head off towards Burpford. Something on the ground directly below her had caught her attention and awoken her curiosity. It was one of the planet's vehicles. This one was as long as the one she had torn apart when she had first walked on the world's surface. Unlike that machine, however, the one she now watched was completely enclosed and it roof was far lower. Her vision pierced the shiny black exterior, revealing three males seated within. She realised quickly that this trio was some sort of official group, probably on its way to investigate what had happened to the four soldiers. Then, she remembered the communicator conversation between the "commander" and Corporaljones that she had overheard.

She had not comprehended it fully at the time, but now she understood. The "commander" had told Corporaljones to hold her in place until these three men in the black vehicle arrived. Ria laughed. She was certain that a hundred Corporaljoneses could not have detained her against her will, so overwhelming was the sensation of power now coursing through her veins. She wondered what the significance of the three new arrivals might be. Were they stronger, faster and tougher then the others she had met? If so, why did they still need to use one of those primitive vehicles? She was curious. Burpford and the "commander" could wait. Ria decided to observe the trio for a while.

The three agents were just receiving their final briefing from the Pentagon. Their official car was travelling the night roads at nearly double the speed limit and they expected to arrive at the sight of impact in a few minutes. The latest developments - the confirmed description of a possibly flying female humanoid, her exchange with military staff and the loss of radio contact with that staff - had given a new urgency to their journey. The President had been disturbed in his sleep and briefed. As far as the authorities were concerned - flying alien, foreign genetic mutation or complex conjuring trick - whichever of the theories was true, she or it represented a national security risk.

Back on the ground, the government agents received their orders and then contacted the commander of the base whose troops were unaccounted for, informing him that there were approaching the spot where the pickup and its driver had been discovered. Half-a-mile short of the sight, the driver cut his headlights and slowed his engine to a crawl. They didn't want to attract any undue attention from whatever might be lurking there. They walked the final hundred yards in a tight group, wearing night-vision goggles. They were professionals, but they could not hide their shock as the horrific scene came into view.

The most obvious discovery was the horribly mutilated bodies of three of the soldiers from Burpford Base. Soon, the government trio had found the smashed military radio and four chunks of metal - two machine guns that had been inexplicably melted or torn in half. Nearby, there were two concentrations of spent bullets - enough ammo to stop a small army. Many of the bullet-tips were dramatically flattened or otherwise mangled as if they'd been fired against a block of solid steel. A little further away was the body of the civilian pick-up driver, lying next to what was left of his vehicle. In the distance they could see the compressed lump of abused metal than had once been the front section of the truck.

The fourth Burpford man appeared to be intact. The name-tag said Corporal Jones. He looked as if his clothes had been torn from him. His body was caked in dirt. He'd spilt an abnormally large amount of semen onto the dry ground where he lay and a fair quantity over himself as well. Even in the dim light his face betrayed recent tears. Closer examination revealed that he was still breathing. He showed no sign of any injuries other than a broken hand, a bleeding palm and extensive bruising of his sexual organ. It took a while to revive him. Even longer to calm him and reassure him enough to question him, but eventually they extracted the whole story from him.

The question was: should they believe him? But a variety of checks showed he was depicting what he believed to be the truth. One of the agents reported the witness testimony back to the Pentagon whilst another informed Commander Mathers of the fate of his men. He also told the Base Commander that, according to Corporal Jones, the alien appeared to be seeking him out in person. And that the tortured soldier had pointed her in his direction. The government man told Mathers to remain in his office in Burpford, assuring the commander that the situation was under control. This was greeted by the sound of whisky being poured into a glass.

The agents then started running tests on the entire area, examining every object - and corpse - that might have come into contact with the alleged alien girl. They found nothing that could disprove the corporal's story - every piece of evidence seemed to be consistent with his incredible explanation. Could it really be that the earth was under hostile extraterrestrial attack? By a single humanoid invader - a humanoid who could fly and crush trucks and could not be harmed by machine gun fire? A stunningly beautiful, completely naked 17 year old girl?

Ria soon grew bored with the activity taking place on the ground. She heard them speaking with Corporaljones, learning a phenomenal amount of vocabulary in the process. She quickly realised that they hadn't believed his story. She listened to the men speaking on their communicators to other men who must have been their superiors and she heard more when one of them contacted the "commander" at Burpford. The three males down there looked as pathetic and helpless as the others she had met so far. She listened in to their conversation, but they were far less communicative than the soldiers had been earlier, only occasionally exchanging a few brief remarks with each other. She was rapidly loosing interest in them. She decided that they had spent long enough looking for evidence of her existence.

Five seconds later, at the Pentagon, a communication was received from the investigation team at the sight of the alleged alien attack. It was in a frantic, panicked voice: "Something's coming from above! She's...oh my God! Sh-" and there the signal went dead. Subsequent attempts to contact the investigation team failed. The President ordered the nearest jet fighter squadron to be launched immediately to patrol the skies between the site of the alien's attacks and Burpford Military Base, which was deemed to be the most likely location for the next confrontation. The commander-in-chief then spoke in person to Commander Mathers at Burpford, instructing him to put his base on full alert.

There was nothing else D.C. could do now, but await further news. Some uttered prayers for the wellbeing of the three agents on the scene who had suddenly broken contact. Those prayers were timely. One of the agents - the one whose desperate message had been cut off - was already dead. The alien had only intended to destroy his communicator as she swooped down from the sky, but she had underestimated her speed, smashing the device with such velocity that little pieces of it pierced through its operator's flesh and travelled deep into his organs, killing him instantly.

Of the remaining two males, one was lying on the ground, moaning softly, his previously white shirt soaked in his own crimson blood. He had been wounded in the belly by a ricocheting projectile when he had drawn his weapon and used it against her smooth, flat stomach from close range. Ria had to laugh as she watched the little bit of metal deform against her invulnerable flesh before rebounding and penetrating the male's skin, despite the fact that most of its momentum had been lost during its first, futile contact with her body.

She had left that man to bleed while she floated after the one male left standing. Seeing the fate of his two colleagues, not to mention the four soldiers from Burpford, he had turned to run. Ria floated leisurely after him. Catching him with her left hand under his arm, she lifted him effortlessly off the ground. She was delighted as he began to struggle, repeatedly punching and kicking her body. He didn't even tickle her with his hardest blows. She held him one-handedly with his feet dangling in air while she used her other hand to slowly peel off his clothes, revelling in her feeling of ultimate power over the male. She could see the effect on him of her body and its actions. She knew she could do with him whatever she pleased.

Ria ran her finger tips lightly over the bulge in the man's clothes that betrayed his reaction to her. She could tell he was trying to pull his groin away from her reach, but her other hand under his arm held him fast. She continued to remove strips of clothing from his body, occasionally letting her fingers brush gently across his growing erection until he was naked apart from his shoes and socks. She stared at his exposed arousal with a childish grin on her face. Suddenly, the male seemed to become embarrassed by his predicament. "Put me down!" he said, angrily.

Ria understood perfectly well what the male was asking her to do; she just didn't want to do it. She felt confident enough using her newly-acquired language to indulge herself in a little bit of teasing. "The big man will not play with the little girl?" she asked, her voice laden with mock condolence, his large frame still suspended for from her delicate-looking left hand.

"Put me down!" he said again, this time revealing a hint of nervousness.

"Why I put down big man?" she inquired, sounding disappointed. She pouted her luscious lips, and gently stroked his shaft, repeating the words "Big man" as she did. He moved to slap her cheek, and Ria ignored his pathetically slow effort. She was rewarded by the sound of him yelling in pain as his palm hit her invulnerable face. She smiled at him. Relaxing her grip on his arm, she sharply withdrew her hand, letting the male fall the short distance to the ground. His legs tangled underneath him and he collapsed in a heap on the dirt. She looked down at him, stunned by his pitiful state as he tried to gather himself again.

As soon as he had recovered his bearings, the naked male stood up and ran. Ria floated casually over his head, hardly tensing her muscles at all to generate sufficient propulsion to overtake him. A graceful somersault above his head allowed her to drop towards the ground immediately in front of him. He stopped running and stared in shock. She descended slowly, deliberately allowing him to view her whole body close-up as she lowered herself towards the dirt. Her feet, ankles, calves, knees, thighs, sex, stomach, ribs, breasts, neck, mouth and nose passed like a glorious procession of perfection in front of his shocked eyes. She stopped her descent when their pupils were level, keeping her feet quite a distance above the ground.

The girl from Prytkon glanced down at the terrified male's impressive erection, pleased with the way she had inspired both his fear and his arousal. She floated a little closer to him so that their noses and chests were just a hand's width apart and reached down to take his shaft in her soft hand. She was extremely careful as she handled him, not wanting to neuter him. He, meanwhile was too sacred for the safety of his manhood to offer her further resistance. His whole body shuddered in fear and sexual excitement as she continued to stroke his rigid organ, taking supreme care not to damage him - yet. "Wh.. What do you want from me?" he asked her, sounding more afraid than anything else. She smiled at him.

"The big man has fear of the little girl?" she taunted.

"Tell me what you want!" the male spluttered. Ria could tell he was getting desperate. She felt the increasingly familiar sensation of power welling within her. She continued to caress his manhood.

"I am commander of you now." she told him, matter-of-factly. "The little girl is commander of the big man." The finality of her words seemed to stun him and he made no attempt to reply.

Glancing down at the formidable organ which dwarfed her petite, feminine hand, she returned her gaze to his eyes, repeating the phrase "Big man." She was still hovering well above the ground, her feet more or less level with his trembling knees. She let go of his penis and so very carefully tensed a few of her smaller muscles so that she floated closer to him, his fully ready organ almost brushing against her smooth round thigh. The extreme proximity finally woke something with him, his mind at last challenging her claim to be his superior. His eyes fired with anger, sending a thrill through the alien girl. She had already discovered that overpowering a man was far more enjoyable if her victim put up a fight. She smiled at him.

He put his hands on her shoulders and tried to push her away. Ria laughed as his desperate effort had absolutely no effect on her. He punched her in the stomach, screaming as the bones in his hand shattered against her smooth, warm skin. She realised that he probably wasn't a particularly intelligent example of his species when he punched her again with his other hand a few moments later. This time, he aimed a little higher, catching her on the inside of her right breast. Unlike her stomach, the unearthly flesh of her chest yielded a little to the male's fist. The former Princess heard far fewer bones snapping this time, but her victim appeared to be in just as much pain.

She floated upwards and a little to the side so that the breast he had just struck was right in front of his eyes. "Look," she teased, "the big man cannot harm the little girl." To emphasise her point, she let her upper body sway slightly, his eyes following her unblemished mound from side to side as if it were a hypnotist's pocket-watch. Her hand sought out his penis once again, stroking it ever so gently while continuing the erotic movement of her chest. She felt his shaft throbbing, ready to erupt at any moment. Frightened by the knowledge that he had lost all control over the situation, the male turned his head away from her body, closing his eyes. He placed his least damaged hand on hers, trying to stop her insistent stroking.

The pain of manipulating his broken fingers was emblazoned across his face. Ria ignored his efforts, continuing to stroke the engorged organ. Reaching down, she used her free hand to turn his head back towards her chest. The muscles standing out in his neck told her that he was using all his strength to oppose her, but it was no effort for her to hold his chin in place. His eyes were still tightly shut. To compensate for that, she lent her upper body forward until her nipples brushed his cheeks. Instantly, she felt his shaft spasm slightly in her hand. Ria laughed out loud, letting the points of her breasts repeatedly touch the male's face.

She continued the gentle stroking of his penis as she lent into him, pushing her nipples against his cheekbones and using the hand on his chin to prevent him backing away from her. He was trembling violently now. "Stop it!" he spluttered. "Let me go!" The Prytkonian girl did not let the male go, but she did acknowledge his plea by laughing once more. He pounded her shoulders with his broken hands, wailing with pain as each utterly futile blow landed. Over and over, through clenched teeth, between his howls of agony, he gasped the word "No." His desperation delighted the exiled Princess. It gave her a tremendous thrill to know that she was on the point of bringing a man to orgasm, despite his terror, despite his pain, despite his every physical and mental effort to resist her.

He was still fighting, but in reality there was no doubt; Ria was in total command. As if to prove that point, the Prytkonian girl removed her hands from the male's sexual organ and his chin, and, still hovering in the air, casually draped her arms over his shoulders. She used those arms to gently pull the man's upper body towards her own. He stopped struggling against her, clearly exhausted. She turned her entire upper body so that her nipples rubbed across the male's cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He tried weakly to push her away, but her arms lying lightly across his shoulders held him immovably in place.

She pulled him closer still, rubbing her chest lightly across his face one more. "No, please!" he begged. He was no longer proudly battling her. Now, he was helplessly appealing to her for mercy. She turned a little more, leaning towards him until his nose was wedged between her breasts. "Please!" he repeated, pathetically. His voice was muffled as she pulled him nearer still, trapping his entire face in her cleavage. "Oh! God! No! No!" he cried. Ria merely held the shuddering male fast as he began to ejaculate in huge spasms. She felt his hot fluid splashing against her stomach as he continued to sob quietly into her chest. "Oh christ, oh no, oh god..."

The girl from Prytkon decided she had had enough of this male. If he was not going to entertain her with his hopeless struggling, then she was not prepared to let him live. Not now he had spilt his fluid on her. She wrapped the fingers of one hand around the back of his neck, letting her other arm hang free by her side. Then she pulled his head out of her cleavage, repositioning his nose against her left nipple. She pushed his head against her breast.

The tough flesh, muscle and bone of his face instantly succumbed to the soft femininity of her bosom. He died immediately as her mound pressed into him proving infinitely firmer than he was. Her large flawless breast collapsed the front of his head, covering her chest in gore. Relentlessly, she ground him to oblivion, smashing his skull and squashing his brain against her breast. Then, Ria pulled the lifeless corpse off her body and dropped it on to the dusty ground. She smiled as she looked down at his remains. Her feminine curve had left a large bloody concave indent where his face had once been. As she tensed her legs, propelling herself straight up towards the clouds, she amused herself with the thought that there seemed no limit to her power over the individuals of this world.

It had taken the alien girl barely two minutes to have her sport with her latest group of victims and leave the ground to hover in the atmosphere once again. Meanwhile the squadron of jets that had been hastily scrambled on the highest orders when contact with the trio of investigating agents was broken, had only just taken off. Flying at supersonic speed, it took the first pilot only a few minutes to travel the relatively short distance to his allotted patrol zone, almost directly above the scene of the alleged alien attack. His orders were to observe the skies carefully and to report anything out of the ordinary, no matter how trivial or bizarre it might seem.

Ria spotted the approaching machine long before the sensitive electronic devices it housed detected her presence. Her ultra-sensitive ears picked up the roar of its crude engines even before her powerful eyes registered the craft. She realised immediately that it was an airborne version of the land-vehicles she had already encountered. The former princess used her remarkable new vision abilities to examine the machine. She saw the single male occupant and tuned out the noise of the craft's primitive propulsion system to listen to his radio conversation. Although he was shouting over the background sounds, his voice had a matter-of-fact tone until, quite suddenly, his language became frantic.

Ria figured that he had only just noticed her. She was delighted to note that although she had been able to see the individual stitches of the fabric the male in the air-vehicle was wearing for quite awhile already, he hadn't even glimpsed her at all. As he shouted into his radio, she recognised the word "girl". The craft approached her as she held herself motionless in the sky. To her surprise, it passed by her, buffeting her perfect body with wind turbulence without even slowing down. She watched it move some distance away before executing a clumsy circular movement and returning in her direction.

This manoeuvre was performed several times. Each time the male controlling the thing was near, he passed more information through his radio. This pattern of behaviour puzzled the Prytkonian girl. She understood that the man needed to get his vehicle close to her because his eyes were ineffective from distance. But why did he keep passing her at speed? Why the huge circular movements? Then she understood. The machine was incapable of slowing and incapable of turning around in a small space. The device was as pathetic as the creatures that had built it!

Ria decided to examine it more closely. Tensing her muscles, she was travelling alongside the craft within seconds. The solitary crewman stared at her, his face revealing a significant degree of shock. From his urgent radio communications, she picked up words like "flying" and "alongside". She tensed very slightly and comfortably accelerated past the vehicle. All the while, the man in the craft watched her, reporting to whoever was on the other end of his radio. In a fluid movement, she turned to face the on-coming machine. The male's eyes grew huge when he saw her and he began to wave his arms about frantically. He was clearly afraid of a collision, so at the last moment she dropped down, letting him fly above her.

Ria was pleased, but no longer surprised to find herself vastly quicker and infinitely more manoeuvrable than the complex machine. She flew beneath its underbelly, easily overtaking it before positioning herself directly in its path again. Once more, the crewman reacted with panicked arm movements. This time, she moved ever so slightly upwards as the craft approached, watching it pass by below her. But the Prytkonian was already tiring of this game. If the male was unable to make his machine stop, then she would have to do it for him.

She flew underneath the thing one more time, matching its speed to hold herself below the centre of its belly. Reaching upwards, she casually punched a hole in the metal with a single, delicate-looking fist. She hoped this would create a handle for her to use to bring the thing to a halt. Still being careful to match the craft's velocity, she took a one-handed grip on the hand-hold she'd made. Then, she began to slow her own flight. For half a second, the former Princess' plan seemed to be working and the jet appeared to slow. Then the metal around her hand began to tear. Worried that she would loose her grip, she decided to make the craft stop there and then.

She relaxed her forward movement and re-tensed her muscles to hold herself in place as she had done when she faced the huge meteorite when she was first exploring her new abilities. Both she and the jet came to a sudden, dramatic stop. A fraction of a second later, the jet was an enormous ball of fire. She realised only then that the primitive engines had exploded, igniting the entire craft. Hot, torn chunks of metal cannoned against her bare skin, an experience which she found far from unpleasant. Gallons of burning fuel rained down upon her, again without causing her any discomfort.

She watched the smoking debris falling to the ground, trying but failing to see even a trace of the crewman. The explosion that she had barely felt, that had not left a single tiny mark on her body, had meanwhile utterly destroyed the male without leaving a trace. She couldn't believe how feeble these creatures were compared with the new her. Ria was full of a sense of disappointment. The jet had disintegrated before she'd had a proper chance to have any fun with the male controlling it. Her superiority on this new planet almost defied belief. Not even machines could resist her for an instant here.

Meanwhile the rest of the squadron had heard every one of the downed pilot's last words. As had their commanders. There could be no doubting now. There was a hostile extraterrestrial on the loose. And she happened to be a naked, apparently beautiful, teenaged girl. When the jet whose pilot had reported the sighting disappeared from the radar screens, the next course of action was clear. The radioed order that crackled through the five remaining cockpits was unambiguous: "Intercept and destroy."

Ria heard the second craft nearing moments before she saw it. A gentle tightening of her calves carried her towards it. She spent a few moments lazily "flying" circles around the machine, experimenting with her self-propulsion abilities and confirming that she could move so much faster and with much greater control under her own power than a complex device that had been developed for that very purpose. Amusedly, she listened to the male controlling the machine as he urgently shouted into his communicator, clearly deeply shocked by her presence, her appearance and her actions. She found herself studying his words and adding to her vocabulary even as she danced in the air, making the supersonic vehicle look static by comparison.

She became aware that the man inside was trying to pass a physical description of her over his radio. She recognised the words for some of the parts of the body like "arms", "head" and "legs", and learnt new ones like "tits". In fact, he seemed to be using a lot of language to portray that particular area of her anatomy. She decided to help him in his task, flexing her legs to propel herself up to the front of the craft. "Fly". That was the word these creatures used for self-propulsion in the air. She liked the sound of it, she thought, as she steered herself carefully into position so that she was sitting on the tapered tip of the noisy machine, facing the male behind his transparent screen, her long legs hanging in the air.

"I don't believe it!" the pilot's frantic voice carried over the radio. "She's sitting on my nose-cone! There's a naked babe straddling my plane looking totally unfazed at Mach 3! I'm gonna try a roll to shake her off." He turned his controller, sending his craft into a violent turn. A second later, he was flying upside down. "I'm upside down," he reported, "but she's not budging. Christ she's so beautiful. She's smiling at me! I'm going into a dive to see if I can't loose her."

Ria calmly observed the male as he controlled the vehicle. She almost yawned when he predictably inverted the craft, trying to make her fall off. As if she was subject to the laws of gravity. She merely held her thigh muscles a little tighter than usual to generate enough power to keep her body in place on the end of the front of the machine. She heard the word "dive" and wondered what it meant. When the craft pointed downwards and accelerated towards the ground, she understood. She didn't budge a hairsbreadth, despite the wind rushing past her, the friction pleasantly warming her back.

The pilot pulled out of his dive as quickly as he dared, coming within a whisker of loosing consciousness. When he refocused his eyes, he saw that his aerobatics had failed to dislodge his unwelcome passenger. It didn't appear as if he'd even so much as caused her mild discomfort. The only effect of the unbelievable forces she had endured was that a few strands of her lovely dark hair had fallen over her eye. She brushed them distractedly behind her ear, smiling at the incredulous pilot, who stared back at her open mouthed. Responding to a question on his radio, he replied "Negative. She's still sitting on my nose-cone like it's the star attraction at a theme-park."

Ria was beginning to tire of the male and his ridiculous, raucous machine when she became aware of the presence of other similar vehicles in the sky nearby. They were obviously operating in a group. She resolved to show the leaders of her new home her overwhelming superiority. What better way than by destroying their "flying" devices one by one so that the creatures in each one could report her actions over their communicators? Attacking the machines wouldn't present her with any challenge but it would send a clear message to the "commander" and his colleagues. She smiled at the thought of what she was about to do.

No amount of training could have prepared the pilot for what was going on. He stared in utter disbelief at the stunningly beautiful alien girl sitting astride the front of his jet fighter. His mind was struggling with it all, trying to remember that she was already responsible for the death of one member of his squadron, trying to remember his orders to stop her by all means possible, trying to forget her angelic face, her nakedness, her big round breasts, flawless flat stomach, curvaceous hips and long, shapely legs. Suddenly, some motion caught his eye. He thought he saw those legs moving. Half a second later, he knew he had.

"Oh my God!" he screamed into his radio. "She's.. she's started to crush the front of my plane between her thighs. She's smiling at me and she's crumpling up the nose cone like aluminium foil. Christ, she's digging her fingers into the fuselage.. she's tearing it apart in her hands! Fuck! She's ripping up the whole fucking thing like old newspaper. She's reaching forward.. oh fuck! I'm out of here! Ejecting n...." He had already punched the emergency release button, bracing himself just in time as his seat was propelled out of his craft, sending him dozens of feet up, above the jet and the girl who was turning it into confetti. He had ejected only instants before her delicate hand shattered his cockpit windshield and tore into its metal casing.

Ria was delighted to discover how easy it was to squash the front of the machine between her bare silky thighs. The sight of the metal yielding to her gave her a thrill. She began to attack the rest of the vehicle, her delicate fingers gleefully tearing chunks off it. She'd almost reached the little cabin where the controlling man was seated, when, suddenly, the top of the vehicle opened and he shot upwards out of the machine. She watched him separate from his seat, letting go of the partly-destroyed craft which immediately began tumbling towards the ground.

The former princess stared confused at the male who had become isolated from his vehicle. Did he possess flying abilities? Could he survive a fall and impact with the surface? She was still wondering when she saw the large container strapped to the man's back open and an enormous sheet of fabric open out, attached to him by a series of threads. It was some kind of primitive contraption to slow his fall. Ingenious in a way, she thought. Obviously, this creature had no flying capability without machinery. He was even more at her mercy now.

As his jet hit the ground and exploded with a huge fireball a long way below them, the ejected pilot said a quick prayer of thanks for his fully-functioning parachute. Then he spotted the alien girl heading his way, moving in the air with unbelievable ease. She pulled herself up right next to him, her beautiful naked body so close to his as she matched his gentle descent. His eyes grew huge. He had seen her destroy two planes. Now, she was within reach of him as his life hung by the threads of his 'chute. "Please. Don't kill me." he pleaded, not attempting to hide either his terror or the helplessness of his situation.

Ria suddenly found herself sickened. Why were all the males on this planet so pathetic? Still keeping herself face-to-face with him, she sighed angrily. She was as stunned as her unwilling companion by the effect. She realised that it was the first time she'd exhaled so deliberately since her incredible transformation. She had been utterly unaware all that time that she had also acquired yet another remarkable new ability. For whilst she had soon found that she was now invulnerable, that her strength had hugely increased and that her senses had been infinitely improved, she had not discovered that her lungs had been similarly enhanced.

The revelation of her latest new capability was amazing. Her over-dramatised (but not forced) exhalation created a brief gust of wind as violent as any extreme natural phenomenon. The parachuting pilot, his terrified face so close to hers, never stood a chance. The alien girl's remarkably powerful lungs generated a breath of such size and speed that it knocked his head backwards with more than enough force to snap his spine like a twig. Only then did the puff of wind reach the rest of his body, hurling it sideways in the air, dragging the parachute behind it for a while before it resumed it previous sedate descent, helping the pilot's corpse gently down to the ground.

She was astonished with what she had just done. With nothing but a theatrical sigh she had killed a man. The possibilities of her new discovery began to dawn on her, filling her with the increasingly familiar excited tingle of power. This world was magnificent. She could do anything. And she could not be opposed. It seemed that she had been given yet another tool to express her dominance on this planet - yet another weapon she could use against its population. Against its males. Against... She smiled, tensing herself to set off rapidly in pursuit of one of the four remaining air-vehicles.

The alien moved across the sky at an unbelievable speed. It was a tribute to the reactions of two of the four surviving pilots that they were able to spot her flight and accurately launch air-to-air missiles at her. They had been forced to hold fire while she had been so close to the second jet and its pilot, but at that moment she presented a clear target. Although she was flying at an unbelievable rate, the four pilots were surprised when the girl stopped in midflight, holding herself perfectly still as the pair of rockets headed her way.

One of the pilots reported his observations: "Two missiles fired. Locked on target. Target has stopped moving. Repeat: target is stationary. Looks like she's waiting for the rockets to come to her. It's going to be a double hit. Hit! Missiles exploding right on target! Wait a se.... Oh my God! She's still there... Did you get that people? Target is still intact. She let the fucking rockets explode right against her and they didn't do a fucking thing to her! She's just standing in the air looking as fuckable as before. She's not even scratched. She's... smiling. Oh fuck, people. This girl is rocket-proof."

At that point, a new voice came over the airwaves. The pilots' radioed report was making for uncomfortable listening in Washington. Whoever was in immediate command of the jet squadron was not showing enough leadership. Someone had to take charge. "Men, this is the President. Keep firing. Do you hear? Hit the target with everything you've got." There was a chorus of "Yes, sir, Mr. President" in reply.

Ria did not hear this last order. She had, however, heard one of the males in the air-vehicles reporting the ineffectiveness of his weapons. She learnt that the two long tubes that had exploded uselessly against her body were called "missiles". She also learnt that the warmth of the blast coupled with the force of the impact of the missiles on her skin felt quite good. Not as good, however, as the knowledge that her invulnerability to the weapons shocked her audience. They had thought that their exploding tubes would kill her, but they hadn't even caused her a moment's discomfort! She truly was all powerful.

The thought was still dancing in her mind when she became aware of the next wave of missiles. This time, there were four, approaching from different angles - one from each of the craft that were now flying in clumsy circles around her. She knew she was being observed and that some of the planet's authorities were being made aware of the events taking place. She would give them a demonstration of her superiority. She remained motionless as she hung in the air, waiting patiently for the pathetically slow weapons to reach her. Then, she let them smash into her body. Then, she watched them explode.

The first strike of the second wave hit her lower back. The explosion momentarily heated her skin to incandescence. Countless bits of sharp metal shrapnel bounced off her back leaving not a scratch on her perfect skin. Missile two impacted with the side of her face, pinning her beautiful ear for a split second before the seemingly delicate flap of flesh proved itself far tougher than the powerful supersonic weapon. Even the chunks of rocket that struck her serene features with enormous force failed to hurt her. She barely noticed them as the third missile crashed into the back of her knees, the blast not even causing her to move even an exquisite eyelash.

That left Ria looking on with only vague interest as the last of the quartet of rockets reached her. It hit directly straight-on against her left breast. The generous mound of flesh dimpled barely perceptively as the missile pressed into it. Within a fraction of a second, it had recovered its normal perfect roundness as the weapon dissolved into dozens of red-hot fragments which ploughed into her chest and ricocheted harmlessly off her seemingly soft, supremely erotic, yet completely invulnerable breasts before tumbling to earth. The girl from Prytkon merely laughed.

"That last one hit her right in the ti- er, chest! It's had no effect on her. I repeat: our missiles are having no effect on the target. Target appears invulnerable." one of the pilots reported."

The President's voice was angry "Keep firing!"

"Sir," replied the voice of another pilot, "we only have 2 more air-to-air strikes between us."

"Then use them. NOW!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Firing now, sir.... Target locked on... Impact 1... Hit! Impact 2...Direct hit again!"

"Confirm two direct hits. Target remains unaffected, sir. That's eight missiles I've seen exploding right on her and nothing seems to touch her, sir."

"Alright." The President sounded calm. "You did well. Thank you men. Return to your base." He put down the radio mike and made a signal with his hand, indicating he wanted the transmitter switched off. Then he turned to the handful of military representatives who had so far been roused and summoned. "Gentlemen," he said, "this is going to be a long night. Any suggestions as to our next course of action?"

Hundreds of miles away, a naked young girl hung perfectly still in the lower reaches of the atmosphere. She had completely ignored the last two missiles, letting them explode against her belly and thigh respectively as she wondered what she was going to do with the four vehicles that were still airborn. Having demonstrated how ineffective their weapons were against her, she was keen to show that the reverse would be far from the same. The problem was that she possessed so much power and so many fantastic abilities that she found it hard to decide how she would destroy the four craft.

Tensing her muscles, she set off in pursuit of the nearest machine. She followed it for a while, enjoying herself as she thought of all the different ways she could wreck it. The former Princess decided to try out her latest discovery. Flying above the plane, she pushed out her lips and blew as hard as she could. The jet of air she created forced the craft violently downwards, disrupting the flow of fuel to its engines which soon cut out. Ria's puff continued to push down on the machine, knocking it off balance and sending it into a ever-accelerating spin. The male inside lost consciousness long before his craft became a ball of fire on the dusty ground.

She was delighted. The fact that she had so easily annihilated the big craft using nothing but her breath seemed to symbolise her unlimited power. She could hardly contain her glee as she turned gracefully in mid-air to head after another of the air-vehicles. She listened to the man inside reporting her latest triumph. "Dankworth's down! Spun out of control. She was right above him at the time, but I never saw her touch him. How the fuck did she do that?".

The alien girl did not hear the reply from one of the two other pilots. "I think I saw it over here. I think she just blew him out of the sky. Y'know, like he was a fucking candle or something. Jesus Christ, I think she just took him out with her fucking breath.... Watch out, man! She's on your tail now. Get out of there man! Get the fuck out of... Oh, Jesus, no!"

Ria had flown right behind the craft. She'd let her head, arms and upper body disappear inside one of the jets of fire that shot out of the metal tubes at the back of the vehicles. The sensation of burning fuel surrounding her was pleasant, particularly against her chest. She watched as the incredible heat made her invulnerable skin glow, remembering how it had felt when she had played in the gases of the planet's little yellow star. She smiled, knowing exactly how she was going to bring down this particular vehicle. This one was going to be particularly enjoyable.

She spread her arms wide - much, much wider than the mouth of the metal cylinder that was spewing flames. Then she tensed her ankles slightly, just enough to provide her with sufficient acceleration to fly faster than the vehicle. In less than a heart-beat her head was right inside the fire-breathing tube. An instant later, her outstretched arms were tearing through the metal, the toughened material bending, yielding, folding and ripping under the phenomenal force of her slender limbs. She continued to fly faster than the machine, her body penetrating into the main body of the craft, destroying everything in its path.

It took no effort on her part and caused her no discomfort, but she was rapidly destroying the big air-vehicle from the inside. The former princess looked about her at the vast amounts of shattered material spreading away from her flawless skin. Leisurely, she spun in the air, watching with delight as her summersault tore huge chunks of metal from the machine. Suddenly, she was enveloped in billowing flames and the vehicle was no longer surrounding her. Burning fuel rained down on her as pieces of hot, sharp metal bounced uselessly off her invulnerable body. The entire thing had exploded! Ria laughed. She had destroyed it simply by flying through it. It was almost too easy.

The radio waves crackled. "Fuck, man! Gudnisson gone! Total explosion - no sign of his parachute... Christ! She went right through his jet like a hot knife through butter. It exploded right on her and there's not a scratch on her! I don't believe this chick. She's just picking us off one by one. Nothing seems to hurt her. She's quicker than us, more agile than us... We're just sitting targets here. What the fuck are we supposed to do?"

It was a question meant for someone in authority. The President, however, was no longer listening. Instead, the reply came from Base Commander Mathers at Burpford. Horrified, he had heard everything that had transpired. He had counted the four downed craft, and felt the loss of his men. He had to try and save the last two. He yelled his instructions into their headphones "Get out now! Bail out, bail out, bail out!". He waited for the double acknowledgement of his command and began muttering a silent prayer, all to aware that the fate of the two remaining pilots was completely out of his hands.

In fact, their destinies were to be very much in the alien girl's hands. As Mathers sat helplessly in the command centre of his base, the surviving airmen followed his order, ejecting from their jets before the flying naked teenager could destroy them and their machines as she had done to their colleagues. Instead, the planes were obliterated as they crashed pilot-less to the ground, momentarily lighting up the night-time desert. High above, the two crewmen, having abandoned their craft, floated gently earthwards beneath their parachutes, stunned by the shocking scenes they had witnessed and both saddened and angered by the deaths of their colleagues.

Ria's bright eyes pierced the dark as she followed the two slowly descending males. Casually, she steered herself on an interception course with one of them. Seconds later, she was hovering in the air next to the terrified creature, matching the gentle speed of his fall. She let her gaze travel the length of his body, using her remarkable ability to see his flesh beneath his many layers of clothes. Then she reached for him, ignoring his panicked facial expression and the frantic, if pathetic, attempts he made to swat her hands away. Then he grabbed hold of her tiny wrist, straining as he put all his effort into stopping the advance of her hand. Despite his tears of exertion, she merely smiled and continued to extend her arm.

The pilot knew what she was doing, but he was powerless to stop her. With horror, he watched her slender, feminine fingers snapping the strong cords connecting his harness to his parachute one by one. Terrified of the prospect of plunging the remaining hundreds of feet to Earth, he threw his arms around her neck, clinging to her. Suddenly, this incredible alien girl, this cold-blooded super-human killer of his comrades, was his only hope for survival. He locked his hands behind her head, his body now as close to hers as a lover's in embrace.

Regardless of his fearful predicament, he felt himself responding to her magnificent nakedness; her smooth, flawless skin, the feeling of her wonderful chest touching his own. Even her smell stirred his loins. She was incredible. She was moving through the air now, remaining vertical as she carried him with her. They were travelling so fast, the wind blasted against him and he clung even tighter to her as he was buffeted by G-forces as great as any he had faced in Air Force training. Unable to fight the air resistance and turn his face away from hers, his mind filled with questions. Where was she taking him? Why hadn't she killed him? Fuck, she was so.. so.. beautiful. So powerful. What did she want with him?

The former princess found her patience severely tested as she flew so slowly with the male clinging to her. Aware that if she used even a tiny fraction of her maximum speed he would instantly be killed. She didn't want him dead. Not yet. So she forced herself to be careful with her delicate cargo as she steered herself towards his comrade who was still floating downwards beneath another huge sheet of fabric. She drew to a halt as she approached this second male. Meanwhile her passenger still clung to her, his arms locked around her neck. With one hand she effortlessly prised open his fingers, catching him before he fell, putting her slim arm around his middle so that she held him fast against her side.

From his vantage point trapped under the girl's arm, the pilot watched as she ripped his comrade's parachute harness from his back paying no attention to his struggles and then tucking him under her other arm as if the two of them were nothing more than a pair of rolled-up newspapers. He found himself looking into the eyes of his fellow prisoner across the beautiful plain of the alien's perfect flat stomach. The face he starred at reflected the helpless expression of his own. There was nothing either of them could do. With their hands pinned to their sides by the unmoveable shackles of her long thin arms, they couldn't even offer a token resistance.

With extreme care, a fragile, captured male under each arm, Ria descended to the planet's surface. Just before her beautiful feet touched the ground, she released her prisoners, dropping them to the dust. They fell in two clumsy bundles either side of her as she, by contrast, came gracefully to rest on her soles. She watched with scorn as the two men began to stagger awkwardly to their feet. She was amazed by the sight of the two big, young, fit males struggling against the planet's weak gravity. They were so feeble. As she looked down, she felt the familiar rush of power shooting through her being. At times, she felt as if this entire planet and all its inhabitants had been created purely for her pleasure.

She leant forward a little, spreading her arms so that she could grab a hold of the back of a male's neck with either hand. Her fingers pressed into their flesh, making them wince visibly in pain. Their discomfort only increased her feeling of power over them. She jerked them upwards to their feet. They made no attempt to resist her - perhaps they had already seen to much evidence of her superiority to try. Their eyes conveyed fear and pleading. She let herself rise a little off the ground so that she could look down on the two males even as they stood on their toes, held in place by the grip of her small, delicate fingers on the back of their necks. She let her contempt of their plight show on her face.

"Don't hurt us." the one on her left pleaded. His colleague was clearly unwilling to appear so pathetic. "As prisoners, we have certain rights..." he began. The Prytkonian girl wasn't entirely sure what the words "prisoners" and "rights" meant, but she understood that he was implying that he expected not to be ill-treated. She was astounded by his gall. What made this creature think his words would have any more effect on her than his air-vehicle and its weapons had done? Surely he was in no position to make any demands from her and yet he continued his ridiculous monologue. "I am a lieutenant in the US Air Force and I am entitled to-"

She did not let him finish. She simply pinched her fingers together, pushing them through his frail flesh, listening to the satisfying sound of bone crunching as she collapsed his neck, killing him instantly. He barely had time to register a look of shock before she snuffed him out. With a somehow feminine grunt of disgust she opened the vice of death that her delicate fingers had become and let his corpse fall unceremoniously to the ground. He lay face down, the sickening wound in his neck clearly visible to his comrade.

The surviving pilot shuddered. He could feel the girl's fingertips pressing into his skin, a stark reminder that he was mere fractions of an inch away from a similar fate. He decided that under the circumstances, it was better to say nothing. Whoever this alien was, whatever she wanted, she was simply too powerful for him to oppose alone. She had been too powerful for half a dozen of the latest fully-armed fighter aircraft. There were six downed planes and five dead pilots to prove that. He knew there was nothing he could do but wait and see what she intended for him. He felt certain he would shortly become her latest victim. A silent tear passed over his cheek, but, afraid of her possible response, he made no move against her.

She was still floating well above the ground, looking down at him and holding firmly him at arm's length by the back of his neck so that he had to stand on tip-toes to prevent his spine being over-stretched. With her other hand now free, she brought her forefinger up to his face. He shook violently in terror, believing that she was about to deliver the final blow. Instead, she just smiled. Such a warm, attractive smile. How was it possible, he wondered, that such beauty could be capable of such cruelty? Her single finger gently brushed the tear from his cheek. Her caress felt as soft as an Earth girl's. She spoke.

"You have fear to die. The other one - " she indicated the dead airman below her hovering feet, "-gave instructions to me. I am commander. Only I give instructions. You do not die if you take instructions." He nodded vigorously, eager to show her that he understood what she was saying, all thoughts of "Name, Rank and Number" now lost to her total dominance over him.

Ria found herself impressed by her own growing command of this new language. She decided to try it out some more. "You are from Burpford?"

"Yes" replied the male. That pleased her. By now, they would surely be expecting her there. The more prepared they were for her, the more complete her defeat of them would be.

"You are called how?"

"My name is Johnson." This was all going so well. She could understand and be understood. This "Jonson" might be a useful source of information to her. Burpford could wait a little longer. There were some things she needed to know first.

"Before, up there, " - she pointed to the sky where she had won the aerial battle earlier - "you have talked with the radio to one called Misterpresident. Misterpresident has given instructions to you. Misterpresident is the commander of the commander at Burpford?"

"The President is the elected leader of the United States."

"What is 'elected leader'?"

"He was chosen by the people."

"He is most up commander?"

"He is our leader." This word 'leader' she assumed, must be a general word for 'commander'. She was intrigued.

"The leader is chosen? He is not one who has more power than you?"

"We are all equal. We choose our leaders." Ria guessed the meaning of 'equal'. She laughed. Perhaps this world really had been created just for her.

"There is no not chosen leader?"

"Only in other countries." 'Countries'. What did that mean?

"What is 'countries?'"

"An area, like a.. territory." She understood. The planet was divided into political units, as Prytkon had been a long time before her birth.

"What is number of countries?"

"I... I don't know... hundreds."

"The President is leader of all countries?"

"No, just the United States." So, that was this 'yoonitedstates' she kept hearing about. She was intrigued.

"Other countries have other leaders?"

"Er... Sure, Presidents, Prime Ministers, Emporers, Sultans, Kings..."

"These are chosen men?"

"No, not all are chosen and some are women." Ria smiled. She floated towards Johnson, letting herself hover a little closer to the ground. The proximity of their bodies caused his breath to become shorter and his heartbeat to accelerate. Her vision penetrated his clothing, revealing to her his unimpressive, but undeniably erect, organ. The naked alien girl felt a thrill knowing that even as he feared for his life, he was unable to resist her femininity. With her eyes now almost level with his and her face quite close to his now, she asked:

"What is the name of a not chosen female leader?"

"Um.. a Queen. Or a Sultana. Or an Empress." 'Empress'. She liked the sound of the word. The male had pleased her greatly. She released her hold on him. He was suddenly a little less tall as he stood flat on his feet instead of on his toes. Immediately his left hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing the area where she had been holding him. She could see the dark marks her fingers had left on his skin. He stared at her body, his arousal clearly now getting the better of his terror.

Ria was delighted with the information he had given her. For a brief moment she considered giving him a swift, painless end. But she reconsidered. This man had obliged her. She would reward him. She would give him pleasure first. Keeping herself bolt upright and slightly above the dirt, she flew the short distance towards him until her generous breasts were almost touching his face. She felt his panting breath against her chest. Her hands made short work of his garments, tearing them to shreds in an instant so that he was totally naked save for a few tattered rags hanging on his body. He was not well-endowed, but she could see that he was fully aroused, his pitiful penis throbbing in its excitement.

She floated a little closer still, turning her body slightly to the side and back again so that her big, pink nipples brushed against his cheeks. He gasped. She smiled. She arched her back, pushing her large round breasts gently against his face until he moaned. Very carefully, she let her upper body sway, the movement of her chest turning his head from one side to the other as her softest, most feminine flesh proved vastly more powerful than his neck muscles. He began to shake as his knees suddenly seemed to be struggling to hold his weight.

Ria leant even further into him, her mounds now pressing hard into his face, making marks on his skin. His moans now contained hints that he was in pain, but she paid no attention. She pushed herself against him, wedging him in her deep, seemingly soft cleavage, muffling his cries. For a few moments she remained motionless, letting her breasts fill his senses until he was overcome by her sexuality and jets of hot semen spurted from his quivering penis against her flawless belly. Finally, his spasming ceased. He was done. She had given him his reward.

His breathing was rapid and shallow against her. Her face deadpan, she turned her upper body violently to the left. His head, trapped in her bosom, was yanked sideways too. She heard the unmistakable crack of his neck breaking and felt his breath stop and his body go limp. She was already familiar with the sensation of pulling a dead man's face out of her cleavage, but she was still impressed to see the marks her supposedly soft breasts had made on his cheeks and around his now dull eyes. She tossed the corpse casually away, not even looking as it sailed through the air to land a hundred paces away.

Turning her gaze to the sky, the former Princess of Prtykon effortlessly took to the air. The incredible speed of her ascent generated enough friction to vapourise every last trace of men and their fluids from her body. She headed in the direction she had been given for Burpford, knowing that they would be many more males waiting for her there. She looked forward to overpowering them. Dawn was just beginning to break on the horizon as her slim body generated enough power to travel at several times the speed of the military craft she had destroyed. As she flew, her rich, full lips silently formed a word in the language of her new home: "Empress".

 

Conceptfan, Nov. 2001.

Chapter 5

In the clouds high above Burpford Army Base, Ria reflected for a moment.  She looked down at the army base below.  There were a lot of males down there.  She wondered if they'd all be as weak as those she'd encountered so far.   Would the commander be as helpless to resist her as Corporaljones, the ones in the jets and the others?   It would be amusing to humiliate a man of such status and supposed power.  And it should immediately ensure her dominance over the hundreds of males she could see.  She wondered if those men would have other weapons that she hadn't faced yet.   Would these be able to harm her?  She would have to find out the hard way.  The thought of holding power over so many males at once was too tempting to resist.

Thousands of feet below her, Commander Mathers sat in his basement office, half-full whisky glass in hand.   He knew that radar had picked up a girl-sized object hovering in the clouds directly overhead.   Hundreds of armed men waited on foot in the yard outside.  Twenty gun nests had been hastily set-up.   Five tanks prowled the perimeter of the base.   The office building was completely ringed with bazooka- and grenade-wielding men.  Inside, there were dozens more in every room and corridor.  There were even seven fully armed guards standing around his desk and five more in the room with him.  On the roof, six anti-aircraft batteries were on standby.  The base was on a war-footing.  Mathers was taking no chances.

The girl in the sky watched the frantic activity taking place below her.  It amused her that so much work was being done by so many men, presumably in her honour.  It gave her a thrill of power.  She decided to wait a little longer before descending to the ground.   The more they believed they were prepared for her, the more pleasure she would take from proving them wrong.   Her superhuman eyes scanned the base, quickly spotting the commander in his underground office.  It wasn't difficult - he was one of only a few wearing dark blue uniforms and he was the only one surrounded by a ring of other soldiers who, she assumed, were trying to provide a security barrier.  In addition, the building he was in appeared particularly heavily defended and the room he occupied seemed more protected than any other.

She couldn't believe how little of a challenge the creatures on this planet were presenting her.   Clearly, they thought they had gone to great lengths to protect their commander - surrounding him with guards and placing him in an underground chamber.  Despite that, she had found his location without any difficulty from the inside of a cloud.  At night.   From her angle, she couldn't see much of the commander other than his balding head and some of his belly.   Watching the way the others moved around him, she could tell that he was well used to being respected.  She smiled in wicked anticipation.  She would enjoy humiliating him.   It was time for her to descend to the planet's surface once again.

The chief radar man was glued to the display showing the location of the small object in the atmosphere above the base.  Without warning, his instruments detected a phenomenally fast drop in the object's altitude.  He reached for the intercom.  By the time he'd managed to speak the words "It's coming down, really -" the anti-aircraft battery crews had spotted her.  By the time he said "- fast!", she had smashed feet first through the roof and two floors of the command building.   The guys on the roof never had time to fire a single shot, although many of them were killed or injured as she rocketed past and destroyed a large section of the roof, sending debris flying everywhere.

That carnage was repeated on the top floor.  On the ground level, huge chunks of masonry falling from the busted ceilings above added to the destruction.  Many never knew they were under attack before they were fatally wounded.   The shock of her sudden assault combined with the impossibility of seeing what was going on through the clouds of crushed-brick- and plaster-dust that rapidly filled the building added to the general chaos.  The men were aware that there were wounded scattered about everywhere, but they could not see their target.  As a result, hardly a shot was fired in the building, and certainly none that had any risk of actually hitting her, not that it would have made the slightest difference.

Noticing the terrible devastation she was causing,  she brought herself to a sudden halt directly above the commander's office, her feet a few inches from the floor.   She had been about to continue her supersonic descent, smashing into the basement as she had done through the two ceilings above her.   At the last moment, she realised how much damage her velocity was creating;  if she broke through to the commander at the same speed, she would kill him and his guards instantly.   To do that, would mean missing the interesting part - humiliating them first.  And that would be a shame.

Looking down, through the extra thick, reinforced floor below her, she noted the Commander's exact position and those of each of the dozen guards in the chamber.   There was a group of five men situated away from the dark-blue-clothed man by the door to his office.   She glanced around her; she was in a narrow corridor, directly above the Commander.   An idea occurred to her.   She would reposition herself over the heads of the isolated quintet.  With no great speed, remaining vertical as she hovered just above the carpet, she floated towards the far wall of the corridor.

The air was still thick with dust from the collapsed ceiling.   Those guards on the first floor who had survived the initial impact of her descent, were unable to see anything as she approached the wall.  They couldn't see her maintaining her leisurely pace, neither quickening nor slowing as her gorgeous naked body smashed into, and easily through, the brick and plaster wall, creating a new shower of dust and debris.  The material, strong enough to support the weight of a three-storey building, crumbled to powder at the most casual application of pressure by the alien girl.  She didn't even blink as she pulverised the wall, barely even feeling the impact on her flawless skin as she emerged in some kind of office.  Her eyes had no difficulty penetrating the dust and scanning the room.  There was no-one in there.  She looked down through the floor to find the exact spot under which the five guards were standing. 

In the Commander's office the atmosphere of expectation and fear grew steadily.  The noise from above was terrifying.  Clearly the other floors of the building had been breached within a second of the radar man noticing the mystery object descending from forty thousand feet up.   Over the radio, Mathers learnt of the destruction on the roof and two storeys of the installation.  Whatever had caused it had traveled too fast for the anti-aircraft units to respond.  There were terrible casualties throughout the building, but the dust from the smashed masonry made it impossible to see any more detail, or to detect the presence of a possible intruder.

The Base Commander was worried.  If the stories he'd heard from Corporal Jones and the dead jet pilots were true, then he knew that there was a strong possibility that the missile which had caused so much damage was actually the mystery girl.  If so, why had she chosen to attack the command centre first?  Why had she apparently smashed through two floors and ignored the basement?  If indeed it was her, then where was she now?  Was she looking for him in person as he had heard?  Would the twelve guards in his office provide him with enough protection if she was as invulnerable and powerful as his information suggested?

Overhead, in the deserted, wrecked office, Ria hovered six inches above the ground, her legs spread slightly apart, her feet turned outwards.  She had carefully aligned her soles with the party of guards by the door in the subterranean chamber beneath her.   She smiled in anticipation of what she was about to do, all the while knowing that it would all be over too quickly and that it would require almost no effort on her part.  Still, she would enjoy the brief feeling of absolute power over the five men.  And there were eight more males, including the commander, in the room below, not to mention several hundred outside the building.

Using her self-propulsion abilities to produce an incredibly quick downward thrust of her entire body, she slammed her bare feminine feet on the floor.   No hydraulic industrial pile-driver could have matched the force she transferred on to the reinforced ceiling below.   For such a slender young woman to produce so much momentum would require her to travel at phenomenal speed and possess incomprehensible strength.   For her to survive the impact, she would need to be at least as tough as a thick chunk of steel.   The beautiful naked alien girl floating on air in an empty office inside Burpford Army Base fitted all of these criteria, and more.

The five guards standing beneath the girl's feet were dead before they even knew what was happening.  They were dead before they were entombed in chunks of ceiling; the force of the alien girl's impact turning the smallest pieces of plaster debris into lethal projectiles.   And they were long dead before the other soldiers in the room reacted to the almighty crash.  After that, quite a few seconds elapsed until the rubble stopped falling and the dust began to clear.   It was a brave man by the name of Jackson who crossed the room, stepping close to the pile of masonry and crushed bodies, to peer through the newly-created hole in the ceiling, his weapon poised and ready.

Jackson looked up.  He saw that the hole had been smashed not only through two feet of plaster-covered concrete, but also through three four-inch thick steel re-enforcement bars.  On either side of the gap, he noticed the trio of jagged, torn bits of shiny metal and gasped.   He knew he didn't want to come face to face with whatever had cause that kind of damage.  But he could see nothing on the other side of the hole, so he began to climb on the pile of smashed ceiling and dead guards.  Soon, he was high enough to get the top of his head through the gap to look around the room upstairs.  He peered around.  There was a table and a chair against one wall and a huge hole in another wall.  And a naked girl standing in the corner.

He couldn't believe his eyes at first.   True, Mathers had briefed the whole base about an incredible alien girl who had attacked a squadron of jets, four of their colleagues and a team of government agents, but he was unable to accept that his beautiful teenager was responsible for killing five men by collapsing a re-enforced ceiling.  She was too good-looking, too young, too... too naked.   She smiled at him.  A magnificent smile, warm and bright, her perfect teeth illuminating the dust filled office.   Jackson found himself getting lost in her beauty.  Her stunning youthful face, her long, slender limbs, her remarkable figure - so slim but with such fantastic breasts.  And not even so much as the tiniest blemish anywhere on her smooth, totally exposed skin.  He felt a lump in his throat and another in his trousers.

Fixing her gaze on her new companion's lust-filled eyes, Ria slowly put her extended forefinger to her lips.  She had seen the inhabitants of the planet make the gesture several times and knew that it was a signal for silence.  She did not want this soldier informing the Commander in the room below of her presence.  Whilst she could clearly see him through the steel-reinforced concrete beneath her feet, she was aware that she was invisible to him and those with him.  Only this one male who had climbed halfway through the hole she had created knew her location.  She wanted it to stay that way for a while.  It would be more amusing for her.  She kept her finger in place and used her other hand to beckon the man towards her.

A fuse had blown in Jackson's brain.  Years of training and military discipline seemed to have evaporated in the instant he saw the girl.  Suddenly, he was no longer in a combat situation.  He was in an erotic dream.  And there she was, the object of all his desires, completely naked, gesturing him towards her.  He understood she wanted silence - no crass words should disturb the perfection of the moment.  He would go to her without sound, be with her, touch her.  She was waiting for him, ready for him.  He was hers.

Twelve feet below, Base Commander Mathers was still shaking after seeing five of his men killed when a portion of the ceiling had collapsed.  No so much collapsed in fact, as exploded downwards.  He had been full of admiration for Sergeant Jackson, one of the seven guards he had posted around himself, for the courage he displayed by going to check out what was on the other side of the new hole overhead.  Mathers watched him climb the pile of rubble, the sergeant's head disappearing through the breech.  Jackson said nothing.  When he began to pull himself up through the hole, climbing into the room on the floor above, the commander assumed that there must have been nothing up there.  Otherwise, surely Jackson would have called down.  But Jackson was staying quiet in obedience to the girl's instruction.  And he had climbed through the smashed floor to get to her.

He stood now, facing her, his eyes drinking in every inch of her, his loins afire with a sexual hunger more intense than any he'd felt before.  Slowly, the girl moved her finger from her seductively rich, full lips.  All the while, she moved in a slow, languid, dream-like way that reinforced his belief that he was in a living fantasy.  Her long limbs seemed to flow like liquid as she warmly spread her arms wide by her sides, her palms towards him, inviting him to approach.  The motion left her magnificent chest and immaculate abdomen now completely exposed to him, heightening his lust still further.  His legs began to move autonomously beneath him, carrying him ever nearer to the object of his desire.

As Ria stood invitingly in the corner of the room, she marveled at this remarkable aspect of her mastery over the males of her new home.  She was not using any of her incredibly amplified senses, nor her unimaginably augmented physical abilities and yet she knew that this big, fit soldier was completely in her power.  He simply could not resist her natural, alluring sexuality.  Merely by suggesting that she was available to him, she had managed to make him abandon his duty to protect the men in the office below.  Now, as he approached her, his eyes betraying his longing for her embrace, the Prytkonian girl finally realised the full extent of her dominance.  A tingle of pure excitement ran through her perfect body.

She waited until he was within touching distance of her.  Her mind raced with countless possible ways of dealing with him.  She was so superior in every conceivable way, the only difficulty she faced was choosing.  Not wanting any sound to alert the men underneath to her presence, she resolved, slightly disappointedly, not to try anything that might make him scream or cry out.   Gently, she placed her arms over his shoulders, carefully drawing him to her, not much more forcefully than a native of the planet would have done.  She did not need to use her phenomenal strength; he was more than willing to allow his body to be closer to hers.

Suddenly, his eyes rolled upwards and he began to shake.  Without bothering to use her ability to see through his clothes, or her sensitive nostrils for that matter, she knew instantly that he was experiencing an orgasm.  Judging by the extreme contortion of his face, Ria thought it was one of the most violent releases of his life.  But the only contact between them was her wrists on the shoulders of his uniform and her fingertips resting lightly on his shoulder blades.  In attempting to seduce him, she had perhaps cast too strong a spell over him.  Or maybe he was just too pathetic to control his organ.  Either way, she knew there was a real chance that his ecstasy would find voice in a yell or a moan.  She could not allow that.

He was still shuddering as she pulled him against her body.  She felt the spasms in his groin as for the briefest moment her soft, big, round breasts seemed to yield to his hard young man's chest.  But when she continued to draw him to her, it was his muscle and bone that began to give and her womanly mounds that held firm.  To prevent him screaming, she had to get it over with quickly and not prolong his destruction for her amusement as she would have preferred.  She merely thrust out her chest, holding him in place as she did.  He was still shaking with his orgasm as she used her bosom to crush his ribcage too rapidly for him to understand what was happening.  He died in the throes of his ecstasy, his tough, manly chest no match for her soft feminine one.

Ria carefully lowered the corpse of her latest victim to the floor.  She felt confident that the puny hearing of the men on the floor below would not be able to pick up the sound of the body being gently laid on the ground.  Looking down through the concrete, steel and plaster, she noted that there had been very little movement down there.  The male she was sure was the commander was still at his desk and six others still stood around him.  She suppressed a laugh.  The thought that half-a-dozen of these fragile creatures would be able to stop her was comical to her.  Her mind was running through the various possible ways she might deal with them when she heard the unmistakable noise of creeping feet and racing heartbeats behind her.  She turned around and focussed her superhuman vision on the still intact portion of the wall she had smashed through earlier.

There were at least ten men in the corridor, sneaking single-file along the wall towards the huge hole.  They held their weapons as if prepared to use them at any moment.  The front man signaled to the others to wait.  It was clear that they were trying to be as quiet as possible as they approached the room directly above Commander Mathers' office.  They must have guessed that whatever had made the breech in the wall was probably still inside, and they were planning a surprise assault. None of them had believed the commander's words when he had briefed the entire base earlier, warning them of a possible attack by a superhuman alien girl, but the damage all around was undeniable.  Something hostile was in the building, and they were fairly sure they knew where.

What they did not know was that the alien girl did exist and that she was watching them at that very moment through several inches of thick concrete, smiling to herself as she listened to the thumping sounds emanating from their chests and hearing just how nervous they all were.  That was not surprising.  They were about to rush one after the other through the hole in the wall to confront whatever was in there.  The leader held up his hand, preparing to give the signal.  The column of men behind him checked their weapons and tensed themselves in readiness, trying to dispel their fear.  They were all trained to fight, it was just that they had never expected to fight an unknown enemy within their actual base.

Ria decided not to let the ten males enter the room she was in nor to wait until they used their weapons, possibly alerting the commander to her presence.  She knew she would have to act quickly to prevent that - quicker than these creatures anyway.  She looked at them standing in their line in the corridor.  They couldn't be making her task much easier for her.  She floated up off the ground and flew as fast as she could back through the rough "doorway" she had created.  A tiny fraction of a heartbeat later, she was hovering slightly off the floor, directly in front of the leader of the line of men, his arm still raised in the air.  She allowed him a brief moment - just long enough for her to be amused as his face registered the shock of seeing a naked young woman standing on air.

She did not give him long enough to communicate that shock to those behind him.  Moving out into the middle of the corridor, she thrust out her long, slender arm so that it was at a right-angle to her body, her fingertips brushing the wall beside her.  She was now clearly visible to most of the men in the queue, but she acted far too quickly for that to matter.   She merely remained upright with her arm held out as she flew down the corridor, past the entire length of the line of men.  It was all over before any of them understood what was happening.  She moved with such speed that her outstretched arm became a weapon far more lethal than those clutched in the hands of the men.

Her slim, feminine limb remained completely straight as she flew along the column of soldiers, utterly unaffected by the skin, muscle and bone that stood in its path.  It sliced clean through the necks of the shorter men, instantly decapitating them.  It made no difference to the alien girl that some of her latest victims were taller; her flawless bare flesh simply sliced through their torsos with equal ease, cleaving their ribs, their lungs, their spines as effortlessly as a hot knife through air.  Heads - some still attached to shoulders - bounced off the wall and her perfect body, blood and gore splattering everywhere.  When she reached the end of the line of soldiers and turned around, all ten corpses were still upright.  It was some moments before they began to fall to the ground to join the disgusting mess that was already there.

The former Princess glanced down at the splashes of blood on her arm and her chest.  She could feel that there was more of it on her face too.  She hesitated for a moment.  Whilst she could not help but marvel in her superiority over these creatures - never more obvious than when their fragile bodies fell apart with the most effortless of touches - she had never enjoyed the sight of excess spilt blood or, for that matter, dismembered corpses. It was fun to humiliate them, enjoyable to flaunt her power over them, but she derived no particular pleasure from this kind of carnage.  Still, it was a necessary means to an end.  A way to prove to the natives of the planet just how helpless and hopeless they were against her.  But she had no wish to let their blood dry on her body.

The uniforms of the dead men at her feet were too stained already for her to clean herself with them, so, remaining with her soles well above the floor, she spun herself around a few dozen times - to quickly for a human eye to follow, but well within her extraordinary abilities.  What little gore was not thrown from her by centrifugal force soon evaporated in the immense heat that the air friction generated.

And so Ria was clean once more, floating disinterestedly above the bodies of the men she had just butchered.  Looking through the walls all around her, she spotted several groups of men in various states of confusion, injury and combat-readiness.  If she wanted some time alone with the commander in his underground room, she would have to make sure that all those other men were not in a position to disturb her.  A quick glance told her the commander and his guards were not moving; she had plenty of time to deal with the other soldiers in the building.

For a moment, she hesitated as she chose her initial targets.  She felt like a child in a room full of toys, unable to decide which to play with first.  Eventually, her superhuman clear brown eyes focussed on two young men in the room directly above her, edging their way slowly towards the huge hole she'd smashed as she descended through the building.  She noticed a few bodies scattered around the hole itself, presumably soldiers killed by shrapnel when she had first crashed through.  They were so fragile, these creatures.  She spared no thought for her previous victims as she flew upwards through the hole to land on her pretty bare feet immediately in front of the very much alive males she had spotted.  They gasped in unison, before recovering their professionalism and raising their weapons.

The naked girl stood perfectly still in front of them.  Private Anderton stared amazed at her magnificent chest.  He was as surprised to see a young woman without a stitch of clothing in a combat zone as he was to lay eyes on a pair of breasts so perfect.  By his side, Private Sear's gaze was flicking between the girl's angelic face and the neat little patch of hair between her legs.  Sear had never seen a naked girl in the flesh before.  He swallowed hard, his machine gun trembling in his hands.  He felt himself swell inside his shorts even as the girl's long arms became a blur.  Immediately, he snapped out of his daydream and squeezed his trigger.  Only then did he realise that the beautiful stranger's feminine hands were now, suddenly, over the barrels of their weapons.

It was too late of course, the bullets had already been fired.  Everything he knew about the world told him the girl was about to have a hole torn in her palm.  But the smooth skin that blocked the path of the slugs proved utterly impenetrable.   How could he have known that this girl's flesh was far, far tougher than a mere high-powered bullet?  Sear's shots rebounded back down the barrel of his gun, colliding and exploding until the steel of his gun shattered into several pieces, one of which lodged itself in his chest.  He didn't even live long enough to see another piece of shrapnel amputate his hand.  His legs folded beneath him as he became a corpse, collapsing, symbolically, at his conqueror's feet.  She, meanwhile, calmly turned to his colleague with a look of mild interest on her gorgeous face.

Anderton had not reacted as quickly as his dead comrade.  He had not fired his gun; he had only stopped staring at the girl's chest when Sear's weapon had exploded, looking down at the fallen man for a few moments before regaining his composure.  Slowly, he brought his gaze back upwards, following the girl's long, smooth legs.  When he got to waist height, he saw her hand over the end of his weapon.  Startled, he tried to pull his gun away from her.  Astonishingly, he found he couldn't.  Her dainty fingers were holding it immovably tightly.  He tugged with all his might, but his efforts were wasted.  The girl's feminine digits seemed to have a grip of steel.

To his shock, he realised that she was slowly pinching her fingertips together, and incredibly the thick, toughened steel was deforming between them.  Casually, her beautiful face revealing not so much as the slightest hint of strain, she crushed the end of his gun flat in her fingers.  In fear, he let go of the butt of the weapon and stared.  With a bored expression, the girl absent-mindedly tossed the now useless device over her smooth round shoulder.  It flew like a rocket, only coming to a rest when it was embedded three inches into the plastered-over brick wall twenty yards behind her.  His terror rising, Anderton glanced at the new wall ornament and then back at the naked young woman.  "Who.. are you?" he stammered.

Ria smiled.  It wouldn't be long before the entire planet knew who she was.  "I am the new commander." she replied, matter-of-factly.

"Never!" the male retorted, angrily.  The former princess' grin grew even wider.

"You will stop me?" she laughed, her hands coming to rest on her curvaceous, slim hips as she stood, feet slightly apart, magnificent chest thrust out, in a gesture of defiance.  She pretended not to notice as the soldier in front of her bent low to remove a smallish object that had been strapped to his ankle.  Was it some kind of advanced weapon?  It glinted in the light, but it looked like no more than a primitive, sharpened bit of metal.  Surely this creature was not hoping to hurt her with a caveman's tool?

Without his gun, Anderton had reached for his last resort - his trusty knife.  It might not be as sophisticated as a machine-rifle, but, he consoled himself, it never jammed or ran out of ammo.  He knew that many a soldier, having lost his main weapon in combat, owed his life to a similar blade.  And he knew exactly where he was going to plunge it.  It wasn't as if she was taking any steps to protect herself, either; her arms out by her sides leaving her - he couldn't help but appreciate - fabulous upper body utterly exposed.  Somewhere beneath her perfect, big left breast lay her heart, and he was about to puncture it.

Ria watched semi-amused as the male drew his crude weapon back, preparing to attack her with it.  She didn't even blink as he brought the flashing blade down towards her chest, his movement pathetically slow despite the contortions of his face betraying the supreme effort he was putting into his thrust.  She chuckled as the point of the knife pressed into the top of her breast, barely making the tiniest dimple in her smooth flesh.  She couldn't even feel it properly.  The male grunted as he struggled, fighting and failing to penetrate her softest flesh with his sharpened blade.

Anderton couldn't believe it.  He knew that the knife was more than keen enough to cut through any normal person's chest.  But there was nothing normal about this chest.  Neither in appearance nor, as it was turning out, in substance.  He made one last effort to break her flawless, erotic skin and saw, to his increased amazement, his steely blade begin to bend.  But still, her breast remained unaffected.  From nowhere, the girl's small hand came up and covered his own as he gripped the handle of his knife.  A sharp pain shot upwards through his arm as her seemingly delicate hand gripped his so tightly, he thought his bones would shatter.  He whimpered, but she just kept smiling as she pushed his hand towards herself, adding her own vastly superior strength to his feeble attempts.

For all his frantic struggles, he could not free his trapped hand, nor prevent the girl from pushing his blade into her chest.  The vast added force she applied briefly caused the tip of the weapon to dimple her womanly flesh far more than he had managed alone.  Then, the inevitable happened.  Caught between the enormous power of the girl's single, petite hand and the phenomenal invulnerability of her big, round breast, the steel curved dramatically for a moment before, with a loud snap, it broke in half.  The sharp end of the knife flew upwards, spinning as it went and finishing half-buried in the ceiling.  Now he was really scared.

There was no change in the incredible young woman's grin as she removed her slim fingers from his hand, the other half of the broken knife falling to the floor as he discovered that his own fingers had become numb.   "I am the commander now." the girl said, happily.

"No!" he contested, his voice wavering as his fright showed.  "You are not my commander!"

Ria was bored now with his protestations.  "Then you die." she said, calmly, still smiling, her slender arm reaching slowly for him, giving him plenty of time to change his mind.  He didn't but she saw a single tear collect in the corner of his terrified eye before trickling down his cheek.  And he was supposed to be a soldier!  Yet here he was, crying when confronted with a young girl about half his size.  How pathetic.  She extended her index finger and lazily tapped him on the underside of the chin.  His head snapped back as his feet came briefly off the ground before he fell backwards, never to move again.  The force of her effortless one-fingered blow had turned out to be far more than his fragile body could take.  The Prytkonian immediately floated up into the air in pursuit of her next prey.

Meanwhile, in the underground bunker, Commander Mathers was nervously fidgeting with a novelty glass paperweight on his desk.  The six men positioned around him were also exhibiting signs of discomfort. There had been no word from Jackson since he had climbed through the collapsed ceiling to investigate whatever was in the room overhead.  For a long time they had heard nothing at all.  Then there had been the sound of distant, muffled shots elsewhere in the building.  What the hell was happening up there?  Mathers knew he couldn't risk sending another man to find out.  He needed as many guards as possible to protect him if the alleged superhuman alien girl - if in fact it was her causing all the chaos - decided to seek him out in person.  He could do nothing but wait.

One floor up, on the other side of the building, three men crouched behind a hastily assembled machine gun nest, each training his weapon on the corridor in front of them.  Although they were unsure whether or not they were in the correct position to engage the enemy (such was the confusion in the building) they felt confident that, should the intruder approach them from the front, they would not fail in their duty.  They did not have long to wait.  There was a blur of colour in the corridor accompanied by a brief gust of wind and suddenly, a beautiful, young, utterly naked woman stood before them.  So this was the alien girl Mathers had briefed them on.  The story was real.  They needed no invitation to open fire.

Three streams of hot, armor-tipped bullets converged on the alien's stunning face.  Incredibly, the trio of kneeling shooters saw their countless shots bouncing off her flawless complexion as if they were firing ping-pong balls at a wall, not slugs at a girl.  It was hard to see her lovely visage under the hail of ricocheting lead, but the glimpses the men managed to catch were enough to let them know that their powerful weapons were not even causing her discomfort.  In collective shock, they saw her rising off the floor, her feet floating about eighteen inches above the ground, her body slowly rotating as if she were luxuriating in the flow of deadly bullets.

They saw the bent, squashed ammunition accumulating on the carpet all around her - proof that the high-powered metal projectiles were no match for her perfect naked body.  They stared as dozens upon dozens of bullets rebounded off her shoulders, her wonderful large breasts and her immaculate flat stomach.  However, they were not capable of seeing her hand flashing out a couple of times, as it was moving far to fast for their brains to register.  She plucked three of the speeding shots from the air, her dainty fingers snatching the flying slugs and controlling their momentum with relaxed ease.

Ria decided not to spend any more of her time with these three soldiers and their guns.  Three times in rapid succession, she drew her hand back and flung it forwards.  Each time, she tossed one of the bullets she had captured at one of the men.  Although her throws were casual and nowhere near her full strength, she sent the single slugs back towards where they had come from at about four times the speed the heavy guns had originally fired them at.   The trio of men were each wearing protective metal helmets.  The lumps of lead flung from the alien girl's feminine hand pierced their headgear and still retained more than enough energy to penetrate the skulls within and lodge themselves deep in the men's brains.  In less than a heartbeat, they were all dead.

The noise of the three big weapons firing in vain at their unlikely target echoed right through the command centre.  In the basement, Mathers and his guards froze as the sound of automatic guns suddenly ceased.  They all knew that the dramatic silence could have either of two significances: either the target or the shooters had been destroyed.  It was no time for speculation.  The Commander found himself gasping for another glass of whiskey, but he knew this was no time to be drinking in front of his men.  He had a position of responsibility and, terrified though he was, he intended to act accordingly.  No matter how ridiculous the situation was.  In truth, he knew it didn't bear thinking about.  Seven fully trained, well armed men waiting fearfully for the arrival of a slim, young, naked and weaponless girl...

At the same moment, that girl was now three storeys above them, having smashed a new set of holes through a pair of floors and ceilings as she effortlessly carved her way through the building.  She was hunting the only other set of fully active men remaining within the Command Centre.  The other survivors, she had decided, were too badly wounded to bother with.   Now she floated noiselessly and slowly - by her recent standards - under the roof.  Ahead of her, backs turned, was a tight group of five soldiers engaged in hushed and urgent conversation.  Her sensitive hearing enabled her to clearly pick up each word as they spoke, her growing comprehension of their language allowing her to understand that they were planning a surprise attack on what they called the "bitch" whom they believed was still on one of the lower floors.

She knew enough of these creatures by now to realise that "bitch" was not a flattering expression.  Slightly angered - what kind of way was that to refer to your new commander? - she swooped down on the group from above, grabbing two men by the backs of the collars of their uniforms, one in each petite hand, before heading upwards again, carrying the pair through the hole in the roof she had created so dramatically a few minutes earlier.   Dangling like two dead animals in a butcher's cold-room, the men struggled and thrashed about but failed to affect her superhuman grip in any way.  Ria soared leisurely over the edge of the building before calmly releasing her cargo.

She was confident in the knowledge that the fall from that height to the ground below would be more than enough to end their fragile existences.  The Prytkonian paused just long enough to listen to the two doomed men's desperate cries as they fell and to hear the twin thuds of their final impacts on the hard ground before she turned mid-air and headed back inside after their comrades.  At times, she felt as if she was too superior to these creatures.  Killing them was just too easy.  Where was the challenge?

Back inside the building, the three remaining soldiers on the top floor put aside their shock at seeing their two colleagues carried off like rodents in the claws of a swooping eagle.  Rationalising that splitting up offered them their best chance of individual survival, they ran in different directions, two in immediately opposing paths down the long corridor, the third through a door that lead to the building's back staircase.   They were big men, young and fit.  They had powerful guns and were well practiced in using them.  And there were three of them.  But they were running for their lives from a teenage girl.

Ria's enhanced vision abilities came into their own as she located the positions of the trio of runners before she had even dived back through the roof of the building.  Mentally performing the Prytkonian equivalent of flipping a coin, she elected to go for the one on the stairs last.  She flew at nearly half the speed of the jets she had destroyed overnight as she displayed remarkable maneuverability twisting and turning down corridors.  In hardly any time at all, she had caught up with her first target.  She pulled up to a stop mid-air, her deceleration subjecting her body to forces many dozen times greater than what would normally be fatal for a human but the former Princess barely even noticed.

The malevolent, but stunningly beautiful smile returned to her face as an idea formed in her mind.  She floated up even higher, bending her legs so that she was "sitting" on air, her legs straight and slightly raised out in front of her, her feet just above the head of the fleeing man who was still unaware of her presence.  Keeping her long, shapely legs perpendicular to her body, she separated her feet, opening her knees and thighs as if offering her most intimate part to an invisible lover.  But there was no lover.  Only a terrified soldier running from her.  With his back turned, he was still oblivious to her.  With supreme ease, holding her legs in front of her, she floated after him.  She moved too quickly for him to react, all the while keeping her legs wide open as she steered herself around the fleeing male.  Then, she turned in the air to face him.  Or rather so that he faced her.

Private Rees had no idea where the girl was as he ran.  His only thought was the hope that if the alien was pursuing anyone, it was one of the other two.  He looked up to check for obstacles in his path and found, to his horror, that there was one.  His eyes grew huge in surprise as his vision was suddenly filled with the girl's intimacy.  He desperately wanted to stop, but because he was at full sprint, it was already too late for him.  He smacked, nose first, straight into her lovely, inviting sex.  It should have been a delicious impact; his face into the very core of the stunning young woman's sexuality.  Instead, the alien's crotch turned out to be as superhuman as the rest of her.

Rees felt as if he'd been punched on the nose by an angry heavyweight boxer.  He heard the crunch of bone as his proboscis was flattened, even as his nostrils had begun filling with her indescribably lovely scent.  So erotic.  So painful.  His own sexual organ swelled in inverse proportion to his collapsing nose as his mind filled with stars.  He felt blood trickling onto his top lip as his scream of agony was muffled by her seemingly soft, warm flesh.   Instinctively, he tried to fill his lungs with oxygen and found that she was stifling him completely.  Panicking for air and burning with pain, he attempted to pull his damaged face free of her crushing, intimate embrace.  It was then that he realised that she'd closed her silky smooth thighs around his ears, locking his head firmly in place.

Ria almost laughed when she saw the blood dripping from the soldier's trapped face.  Even her most sensitive part was too tough for his rough, masculine face!  Her amusement only increased when his two sets of fat  fingers and thumbs came up to try and prize her knees apart and free his head.  She saw the tendons standing out on his ugly hands.  That was all that told her that he was putting all his strength into the effort.  As far as she was concerned, she couldn't even feel his struggles.  She let him continue his futile exertions for a while, until - quite quickly - it became boring for her.

Exhausted and in terrible pain, Private Rees would have sunk to his knees were it not for the girl's lovely legs gripping the sides of his head like a steel vice.  But there was something about her smooth, creamy flesh, her apparently soft, yet - as he knew only too well - impossibly firm nether lips and the incredibly erotic scent of her sex that overwhelmed him.  He stopped fighting to part her thighs and found himself caressing her fabulous bare skin, the sensation of her perfection beneath his fingertips making his whole body tingle.  Despite the throbbing pain of what was left of his nose, the near impossibility of drawing a breath and the terrible discomfort caused by her crushing thighs, Rees felt himself begin to orgasm.  It was the last thing he ever felt.

As soon as Ria's superhuman senses detected the male reaching his peak, she became disgusted with him.  With his entire face pressed up against her most erotically sensitive place, he had failed to even raise the tiniest flicker of sexual excitement within her.  Yet the simple touch of her flesh had proved too much for his self-control, despite the fact that his pulverized nose had to be causing him terrible pain and despite the obvious nature of his terror.  She resolved not to let him enjoy his release for long.  The most casual of movements brought her knees a tiny bit closer together.  It was an utterly insignificant gesture to her.  To the man whose face was trapped between her legs, however, it could not be more significant.  His hard, masculine skull cracked like a nutshell between her soft, feminine thighs, his life ending even as the ripples of his last ever orgasm still ran through his body.

The girl from Prytkon opened her legs and let the corpse of her latest victim fall unceremoniously in a heap to the ground.  With his flattened nose and crushed head, it was not a pretty sight.  At least, she thought to herself, she had given him a fairly enjoyable death.  And his demise meant that there were only two more males left for her to neutralise in the building before she could be guaranteed of an undisturbed audience with the commander and his guards.  Then, of course, there were the hundreds of soldiers outside.  But they could wait.  She wanted the commander to witness her defeat of the bulk of his men.  Before that, of course, she would have to the man himself.

The object of her thoughts, Commander Mathers, was on his radio, checking with the various units stationed outside the command centre.  It had been some time since he'd been able to raise anyone inside the building on the communicator and he was beginning to accept, with a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, that perhaps he and the men immediately around him were all that remained.   He was terrified of the confrontation that he felt increasingly certain would take place between himself and the apparently indestructible alien.  What on Earth did she want from him?  Had she really been single-handedly responsible for so much carnage and destruction?

Mathers steadied his nerves by concentrating on his job; making sure that the vast majority of the base's men, who were beyond the walls of the building he now occupied, were correctly positioned.  After a long period of deliberation, he had decided not to order any of the troops out there into the Command Centre.  It would only risk creating further casualties.  They were better off outside where they could use heavy weaponry should it be needed.  And if the extraterrestrial intruder really wanted him in person - for whatever reason - then he was too good a leader to hide behind his men.  The six remaining guards would have to be enough.  After all, with all the information he had received, he still wasn't even sure what he was up against - superhuman, invulnerable, unstoppable alien or sexy nude teenage girl...

Back on the top floor, the former Princess rapidly scanned the building. Her unearthly eyes revealed that one of her two immediate targets was still puffing his puny native male way down the same staircase.  How slow these creatures were!  Ignoring him, she spotted his erstwhile companion crouching beneath a table in a room on the far side of the building.  Five walls stood between her and her prey, but she had no trouble spying him.  She decided not to bother with the conventions of doors and corridors or even floors, but merely flew in an arrow straight line towards him, smashing her way effortlessly through each brick, concrete and plaster barrier that dared stand in her way.

The walls almost exploded as her arms and head ploughed into them, debris scattering in all directions as her slim naked body proved far more effective than a wrecking ball.  Each impact felt to her as mild as if she was passing through a succession of thin sheets of paper.  The exertion required to destroy the thick, strong partitions was hardly any greater than the lazy effort she had applied to fly through the vacuum of space.   Gradually, Ria was beginning to realise that her power was almost limitless.  She found that notion far, far more stimulating than the faint sensation she had detected moments before when her last victim's head had slammed hard against her sex.

Her thoughts were still lost in the (for her) sexual thrill of dominating an entire world as she crashed through the last wall that separated her from her current quarry, showering the table he was cowered beneath in dust and rocks both large and small.  One or two fragments flew directly from the point at which the Prytkonian burst through to smack into his arms and hips, making him howl with pain.  By the time the dirt had begun to settle and she had floated gracefully back down to the floor, the male was already rubbing his wounds and quietly sobbing.  Although his patheticness disgusted her, Ria could see no point in killing a man who had already died, in spirit if not in body.  She looked down at him, her beautiful features now harsh, her gaze one of pure contempt.  "I am commander of Burpford." she announced.  It was, too all extents, already true.

The male made no attempt to answer her, either to accept or contest her words.  He just stared at her with his drowning puppy eyes, a look of abject fear on his face.  She went on, "You will serve only me now."

"I will serve you." he replied, his voice quaking with fear and his anxiety to please her not hidden.  "Please don't hurt me."  The former Princess was beginning to grow accustomed to hearing those words.  They were a pleasant reminder of the power she possessed.

"If you move, I will kill you."  She did not promise not to hurt him if he obeyed, but chose instead to threaten him with death if he didn't.  It was a trick her father had used when he'd been Emperor back on Prytkon.  But unlike her father, Ria had the ability to carry out her warning without having to keep an entire army on her side.  She, alone, unarmed and naked on a strange planet, was far more powerful than any mere army.

She felt she had dealt with the creature hiding under the table.  She was confident he would not be offering any resistance to her so she floated up off the ground, turned a neat half-summersault in the air and flew at a comfortably easy pace back through the huge hole she had knocked in the wall - mainly with the top of her head, the hardest battering ram in the entire world at that moment.   Her eyes sparkled as they penetrated the floor beneath her and located the last remaining fugitive as he neared the bottom of the stairs.  She dived head-fist, crashing through the floorboards, concrete and steel girders that made up the ceiling of the room below as effortlessly as she had just gone through the wall.  Huge chunks of masonry and torn girder rained down all around her, any pieces that hit her breaking or just bouncing off and crashing to the carpet.

She smashed through that fallen debris a second time as she continued on her downward flight-path, on an interception course with the last remaining male in the building - other than the commander and those in the underground chamber with him.  Her incredible visual senses revealed a thick, solid steel bar running through the floor immediately in her way, but she made no adjustment to her "dive", her slim body carving right through the tough metal as easily as it cut through the thin layer of carpet instants before.  A large, mangled chunk of the steel crashed down amongst a shower of concrete pieces, shaking the entire building.  The men in the basement shuddered to hear it.

The alien girl's latest target was also startled to hear the dull, heavy thud so close behind him.  Private Ordonez had reached the bottom of the stairs now; only a short length of corridor and a heavy, locked fire exit door stood between him and the safety in numbers that would come with being outside the building.  Already he was balling up his fist, preparing to smash the glass cover over the door's release mechanism.  It was then that his ears were assaulted by what he took to be an enormous explosion on the other side of the corridor wall.  Instantly, the wall appeared to burst like a dam hit by a tsunami, the force throwing him backwards onto his rear and covering him with debris.  He found himself surrounded by smashed bricks, choking on the dust-filled air.

It was some moments before he could see anything.  Slowly, the fall-out from the violent destruction of the wall started to settle and Ordonez was able to breathe and look around himself.  An enormous, rough opening had appeared in the brick partition, with most of the missing section of wall now in pieces in the corridor in front of him.  And, standing amidst that rubble, towering over him as he sat on the dust-covered floor, was the beautiful intruder.  His frantic, desperate attempt to flee from her had been completely futile.   Despite a massive head start, she had caught him.  She had simply flown through every wall and ceiling that separated them.  And there wasn't so much as a tiny scratch anywhere on her perfect, naked body.  She wasn't even short of breath.

Scared and frustrated at the apparent invincibility of his tormentor and realising that he'd lost his rifle upstairs, Ordonez instinctively grabbed a loose brick from amongst the many scattered around him and hurled it at the girl's head.  He aimed his throw fairly well and, considering he was sitting on the floor, he managed to put a decent amount of power into it.  Had his target been born on the same planet as he was, the brick would have at the very least knocked her unconscious.  But she wasn't.  She didn't flinch or even blink as the heavy object rebounded with a dull thud from her forehead, chips of brick flying in all directions.  The remainder of his crude missile hit the floor and broke in two, but he didn't notice.  He was staring in disbelief at the girl's unblemished, immaculate skin, stunned to discover that the impact hadn't left so much as a mark on her.

As his fear grew, he became angry.  Getting to his feet as quickly as his bruised posterior permitted, he grabbed further chunks of masonry in each of his hands and charged at the nude intruder, intending to pummel her with his improvised weapons.  It was not possible that she was completely invulnerable.  Somewhere, she had to have a weakness.  And if he had to strike every single inch of her gorgeous body to find it, then so be it.  He would get a medal for this.

Ria stood completely still, her long slender arms hanging casually by her sides, her legs in a relaxed pose.  She showed no emotion on her stunning face as she watched the creature struggle to his feet and come at her with a couple of little bits of rock.  How slowly these males moved!  And how stupid they could be.  She had just smashed through a wall unharmed and now he sought to hurt her with tiny fragments of that same wall!  She let him strike her face several times with the bits of stone in each of his hands; listened amused to the grunts of exertion he made as he moved down her body and began pounding the rough rocks against her large, round breasts.  It almost felt pleasant as little chunks of his weapons broke off against her infinitely harder chest.

Soon he had moved down to her abdomen.  She couldn't properly feel his blows there.  His groans became more pronounced and his rate of attack slowed dramatically.  Already, he was tiring.  She saw blood on his hands and realised that the rough bits of brick that were failing to scratch her skin had succeeded in cutting his hands.  Quite badly, if the look of pain that now flickered across his face was anything to go by.  Still, he continued to hammer away at her sides, her thighs and her crotch until finally, he fell to his knees, exhausted and weeping.  She hadn't even touched him - yet.

Ordonez dropped what was left of his useless weapons and looked at the bloody mess that his palms had become.  No wonder they hurt so much.  The rough bits of rock had worn his skin away and the effort of his frenzied onslaught had drained him of energy.  But the girl hadn't moved at all.  She still stood over him as if nothing had happened, her unbelievably flawless, sexy body untouched by his attack.  Desperate now, and unwilling to use his damaged hands, he leant forward, opening his mouth wide and tried to bite her shapely leg.  He had expected to feel this teeth sinking into her lovely flesh, but found to his shock that her skin, although impossibly smooth and deliciously warm, was utterly impenetrable.  He tried closing his jaws as hard as he could and was rewarded with a new pain, this time in his gums, as his two front teeth broke off.  There was blood on her leg, but it was his.

The male yelled in pain.  Ria saw the bloody gap in his mouth and realised for the first time that he had been trying to bite her.  She hadn't actually felt his teeth against her leg.  The situation was becoming increasingly farcical.  Gingerly, he stood up, wincing as he used his wounded hands to push himself up off the rubble-strewn floor.  Still, she remained utterly motionless.  He took a couple of awkward steps backwards before running at her once more, this time launching an impressive-looking (by his standards, not hers, of course) kick at her flat stomach.  He was wearing heavy boots, but she didn't need her superhuman ears to hear the crunching sound as the bones in his foot collapsed on impact with her harder than steel abdomen.  Once more, he screamed as he started to hop about, tears of agony streaming down his contorted face.

Ordonez had never known pain like it.  Every time he tried to hurt her, he ended up more wounded.  Now he'd broken his foot on her sexy slim belly.  It just wasn't possible.  He was a large man, with military training.  She was just a teenage girl.  Admittedly, an incredibly beautiful girl, but a petite young girl just the same.  She wasn't even wearing any clothes. And all the damage had been caused when he had attempted to strike her.  She hadn't moved an inch, let alone actually hit him.  What was he supposed to do now?  He had only one foot to walk on - he couldn't charge her or kick her again.  His hands were far too sore to hit her with.  He couldn't even bite her as he'd lost his two front teeth to her leg.  But he would not lie down.  He would not be defeated by a girl.  He would hurt her or he would die trying.  He recalled his hand-to-hand combat training.  There was one more part of his body he could still use.

The girl from Prytkon watched the male hopping clumsily towards her with mild interest.  She was curious to know what he wanted to try now.  Surely he must have known that he was finished.  Why did he insist on trying to fight her?  Earlier he had been running for his life from her.  Didn't he know that she could kill him in a thousandth of a heartbeat?   Instead, he seemed determined to kill himself.  Like right now.  He was lurching towards her.  Was he going to try and hit her with his cut up hands?  Kick her with his remaining good foot whilst keeping the broken one off the ground?  Bite her with his bleeding gum?  Her, the girl who had swum in the hot gasses of the planet's yellow sun and destroyed a meteorite with her body?

But she hadn't guessed correctly.  The male wanted to try a fighting style not often practiced on Prytkon.  Ria only understood his intention at the last moment when he had hobbled close to her and drew his head back as if looking at something on the ceiling.  It wouldn't have mattered if he had caught her unawares - even if he could have moved fast enough to surprise her - but her anticipation of his latest attack gave her an idea.  It was clear he was about to bring his head down forcibly on hers, a combat move that, she assumed, might be quite effective if both parties were of the same species.  In this case, she knew that the impact might well prove fatal.  For him.  She probably wouldn't even feel it.  But she had already decided to have a little fun with him first.

Ordonez had already launched himself into his desperate head-butt, using the searing pain throbbing throughout his battered body to generate a few extra drops of adrenaline which he hoped would translate into a harder blow.  Only then did he notice that the girl had floated upwards, her feet now almost level with his knees.  It was too late to stop himself or even to try and reduce the power of his header.  There was nothing he could do.  His forehead was still on a collision course with her, but now instead of the top of her head, the sight that raced towards his eyes was the intruder's fabulous chest.

In the last few instants before his skin met hers, Ordonez considered the irony of the situation.  So many - perhaps most - men would pay almost any price for the privilege of burying their heads in this stunning girl's generous and perfect-looking cleavage.  Here he was, about to enjoy that very experience and yet, somehow, he knew that it did not bode well for him.  A millisecond later, his head slammed into the girl.  By now, he knew better than to expect her wonderful big breasts to be as soft as a normal woman's.  Yet for a moment, her lovely mounds seemed to be yielding to him, cushioning the impact.  It didn't last long.  Although it didn't hurt as much as hitting her stomach had done, he discovered that the underlying muscle of her chest was as steely as the rest of her.  He felt his face immediately bruising as the give in her bosom proved only very slight.

With the male's mouth and nose pressed up against her sternum, his scream of shock and pain was muffled.  Ria almost laughed.  She loved the idea of being able to wound and overpower much bigger men with nothing but some of her softest, most feminine flesh.  The fact that they invariably seemed to become lost in the sheer eroticism of her large round breasts only added to the sense of power she felt.  She could make the males of this planet fall under her sexual spell even as she used her overwhelming physical superiority to humiliate and destroy them.  At times, the girl from Prytkon found herself wondering if her new home had been purposefully designed and built with the sole purpose of fulfilling her private fantasies.

For Private Ordonez, his forehead wedged tightly between the incredible alien girl's warm, smooth breasts, the fulfillment of fantasies was also a relevant subject.  Her lovely firm flesh pressed on his face, both hurting him and driving him wild with lust at the same time.  He struggled to breathe and what little air he did manage to draw into his lungs was infused with the indescribable scent of her chest.  It saturated his nostrils as well, even as his eyesight was filled with her flawless feminine curves.  The delicious taste of her perfect flesh entered his mouth too until the continual assault on his senses became too much and he found himself orgasming in huge, violent spasms.

He'd never experienced a release like it.  The strength of the contractions in his loins shocked him.  His trousers were instantly soaked, but still his fluid continued to jet from within.  It quickly became painful; his internal muscles clearly strained, but there was no sign of an end to the spasms.  The girl's smothering breasts were driving him into a sexual frenzy that overwhelmed his entire body.  His testicles had long since emptied, but still his loins continued to convulse.  The pain became agonising, but as long as he was pressed so tightly into her impossibly erotic cleavage, he remained utterly unable to control his body.  He summoned every last drop of energy in his body to unleash a desperate scream, but his hoarse, weak cry was stifled almost to silence by the very flesh that had provoked it.

The warmth of his precious, wasted breath trapped between his battered face and the alien's superhuman chest was the last thing Ordonez ever felt.  A split second later, his heart, overworked beyond the point at which it could recover, stopped beating and all his troubles were over.  His body went limp for the last time.

With a smile of triumph, Ria calmly extended the middle finger of her right hand, inserted it between the dead soldier's forehead and her sternum and pushed him away.  The strength of her casual flick forced the man's head out of her cleavage and sent his corpse flying across the smashed up corridor to slam against the far wall and slide down to the floor, landing amidst the other debris.  So much for the soldiers patrolling the building.  Now, only the commander and his guards remained.  She took to the air once more, eager to finally make his acquaintance face to face.

Or maybe, she thought delightedly, it would be face to chest.  As she flew towards the commander's underground chamber, she couldn't help reflecting on the fact that although she had only been on this planet for a few days, more than a few men had lived their last moments trapped between her breasts.  For her, there could be no clearer sign of her power.  She loved her new home.

 

Conceptfan, Apr. 2002.

Chapter 6

Base Commander Mathers looked longingly at the cabinet on the wall of his underground office.  His scotch was hidden in there, only a few feet away. But he knew it was strictly off-limits to him at that moment.  What kind of example would he be showing to the six men guarding him if he drank on duty?  What kind of leader would he be if he revealed to them his fear?  He looked around the room, from expressionless face to expressionless face.  He wished that whatever was going to happen would happen soon.  The waiting part was the worse.

It had been quiet - far too quiet - in the building for nearly a minute now.  The last sounds that anyone in the subterranean room had heard was the heavy thud of something heavy falling upstairs on the ground floor, followed by a much softer noise which sounded like a small, distant explosion.  Since then, there had been silence.  Mathers wondered why he hadn't heard the sound of gunfire for a while.  Where were his men?  Weren't they engaging the intruder in battle?  Why was he unable to raise anybody inside the building by radio? Surely they couldn't all be out of action?   He glanced across at the pile of rubble in the corner of his office and the gaping hole in the ceiling above it.  He knew that five good men were buried among the debris.  And another of his guards had simply disappeared after climbing up through the damaged ceiling...

And the attacker - the single, teenaged, beautiful, naked alien girl he'd heard so much about.  This hostile force that he had good reason to believe was seeking him out in person.   This attractive youth who, it appeared, possessed the ability to fly through steel-reinforced walls and could withstand machine gun fire unharmed; who had single-handedly downed a squadron of jet fighters.  Where was she now?  What did she want with his base, his men - with him?

The exiled daughter of the deposed Emperor of Prytkon paused in mid-flight, "standing" on air above a pile of rubble that had been a thick, strong wall until she had smashed through it moments before.  She looked about herself, her beautiful bright brown eyes belying their incredible power.  Because as she looked around, the alien girl could see not just the debris-strewn room she occupied, but also through countless walls, floors, partitions and obstacles into every single corner of the building.  She could see all the damage she alone had caused; the huge gaps, the piles of rubble, the catalogue of dead and dying soldiers. 

Although there was one man very much alive on one of the floors above, she paid him no mind.  Still cowering under a table in mortal fear where she had left him, she knew he was irrelevant to her.  Ria turned her gaze away from him and focussed on another part of the building.  On a little below-ground chamber which contained the only other fully untouched people in the entire multi-storey edifice.  A broad, heartless grin lit up her gorgeous features as she studied the group and, particularly, the overweight, older male wearing the dark blue uniform.  The commander.  She could wait no longer.  She would go to him now.

Mathers almost jumped from his chair when he heard the series of ever-nearing crashes.  He managed to keep his composure, however, reminding himself that he was a professional soldier and that he had a responsibility to his men.  He noticed some of the men shooting anxious glances at one another, their hands moving towards their weapons in readiness for combat.  No-one in the room had any doubt what was happening.  Something - or maybe someone - was smashing its way through wall after wall directly towards them.  The crashing sounds and the accompanying reverberations, like the tension in the Commander's office, continued to grow.  "This is it, men." Mathers said through clenched teeth.  "Get ready."

As he finished speaking the latest explosion ripped through the air, the noise almost deafening as the walls shook from the sheer force of it.   Whatever was coming was very, very close now.  Any second now, they thought, the intruder would be in the office with them.  The room was filled with the sound of safety catches being released on automatic weapons.  Even Mathers had drawn his own pistol.  He knew that, compared to the half-dozen rapid machine guns brandished by his guards, the little hand-gun was a mere token, but he felt reassured holding it in his hand.  All seven men stared in the direction the crescendo of booming sounds had come from, their fingers trembling on the triggers of their fire-arms.

The girl from Prytkon watched the seven men through the single remaining wall that separated them from her.  She knew she had announced her arrival by smashing her way through the building towards them.  It made no difference to her, of course, whether or not the males were ready for her, but at the last instant before she broke through that final wall, she hesitated.  Would it not be more amusing if she could find a way to surprise the group, making a mockery of their state of preparedness?   She glanced briefly upwards.  She had already long since breached the ceiling above her.  She remembered how she'd broken through the side of the corridor overhead and then destroyed a section of the floor directly over the far corner of the commander's room.

There was a clear path from where she was now to the inside of room next door. It would be almost too easy.  There seemed to be no challenges for her on this planet; at least none that she'd discovered so far.  She smiled, and flew upwards at a leisurely pace.  Silently, she propelled herself parallel with the floor through the huge gap she'd smashed earlier, her feet just clearing the heap of men she'd decapitated with her slender arm.  She made no effort to hurry, moving only about the same speed as the jets she had destroyed before she came to Burpford.  This last manoeuvre left her immediately above her targets.

Ria hesitated briefly, savouring the anticipation of what she was about to do before finally floating down through the hole in the ceiling of the chamber containing the males.  She hovered with her soles and heels almost touching the pile of rubble in the corner of the room, a broad grin on her beautiful youthful face as she amusedly studied the backs of the seven men who stared at the far wall, weapons at the ready.  The pathetic creatures were clearly certain that their enemy was approaching from the opposite direction!  She placed her delicate, feminine hands on her shapely hips and, without bothering to lower herself to the ground, she announced her presence.  "Hello.  You are waiting for me?"

The blood seemed to drain from Mathers' head when he heard the melodic, feminine voice behind him.  He whirled around immediately, as did his six guards, all of them gasping as they beheld the physical perfection of the gorgeous, utterly naked young woman who had so completely succeeded in surprising them.  Then there was a second series of sharp intakes of breath as, one by one, the men scanned the length of her fabulous body, reaching her dainty bare feet and realising that they were not in contact with the ground.  It was all true!  The girl responded to the collective shock with a widening of her smile, her flawless, brilliant-white teeth further adding to the startling effect of her beauty.

Commander Mathers and his men were stood in a tight group around a big, heavy desk on the opposite side of the room from the young woman.  This arrangement only increased the sense of confrontation.  There were so many differences.  The men were older, the girl younger.  The men wore uniforms, the girl was naked.  The men were numerous, the girl was alone.  The men had weapons, the girl was empty-handed.  The men belonged there, the girl was an outsider.  The men were big, the girl was petite.  The men were men and the girl...  It seemed a ridiculously unfair match.  Yet it was the seven males who feared the inequality.

Eventually, Mathers proved his suitability to his position by being the first to regain his composure and reassuming his role as a leader and a soldier.  He spoke directly at the intruder, drawing on years of experience of giving orders to sound confident and in charge.  In truth, the fear and dread that filled his mind were overpowering and more than a hint of anxiety entered his voice. "Who are you?  Want do you want?" he demanded.

Still grinning, the girl ignored his questions and responded with an inquiry of her own.  "You."  Her clear brown eyes stared straight at Mathers. "You are the one the others call 'commander'?"

Mathers knew enough about power games to understand that he could not allow her to disregard his query.  He could not let the stranger disrespect his authority in front of his men.  "Tell me who you are." he instructed, the note of trepidation in his voice even more evident than before.  To his increasing alarm, the intruder appeared unwilling to play by his rules.  This was confirmed when she said matter-of-factly:

"You do not give me instructions."  Her arrogance angered her interlocutor.  He was not used to having his authority challenged.  He slammed his fist down on the heavy wooden desk in front of him.

"Tell me who you are!" he yelled, his flabby face reddening.  There was no change in the girl's smiling face.  If Mathers had hoped to intimidate her, he had clearly failed.  The countless stories of the alien's powers that he had heard over the past hours ran through his mind.  Was he now looking at the hostile being who had brought down jet planes, killed dozens and devastated the building in which he now stood?  He could see the daylight between her pretty feet and the pile of rubble she was floating over.  Clearly, the reports of her flying were true enough.  Were the other incredible abilities he'd heard about also real?  If so, what could he possibly do against her?  He didn't know.  His training and experience hadn't covered this type of situation.  All he knew was that he couldn't back down now.

Mathers raised his right hand which held his pistol and aligned the barrel with the young woman's stunning face. Following his lead, the half-dozen men standing around him also lifted their much larger weapons, pointing them ostentatiously at the naked female target.  With the threat now in place, the commander spoke through clenched teeth.  "Who..are..you?"

The sight of six machine guns and a pistol directed at her slim body did not appear to affect the alien girl who remained motionless, hovering above the ground, her hands on her hips.  When she spoke, the calmness of her tone was a direct contrast to the commander.  "The one called 'commander' will say now or I will kill all." she said.

The daughter of the last emperor of Prytkon was tiring of the verbal exchange.  She had no need to out-talk this "commander" creature.  She could demonstrate her superiority far more easily.  Seeing as he and the other males had decided to threaten her with their useless weapons, she thought she would make a threat of her own.  Not bothering to touch the ground she floated across the room towards the group of men facing her.  She didn't move at even a tiny fraction of her quickest speed, but she could tell she was still travelling far, far too fast for the males to react.

Selecting one of them who was standing at the edge of the bunch, she draped her long, slim, smooth arm around his shoulders as she had observed companions doing on this planet.  She had to hover with her feet almost level with his knees to reach him and she had to be extremely careful so that her delicate-looking limb merely touched him, rather than smashing him to the floor or even decapitating him.  It felt like a considerable time later when the males finally noticed what she had done, turning as one to look at her, their startled faces almost comical to her.  The one who she had her arm around twisted his neck to look at her, confusion and fear in his dull green bloodshot eyes.  She smiled at him, reassuringly.  He seemed to relax immediately.  These creatures were so easy to control!

Private Howser had been stunned when the girl suddenly became a flesh-coloured blur.  When she rematerialised next to him with her arm draped over him, it took him a few moments to work out what had happened.  It wasn't teleportation or illusion.  The alien had simply moved, or rather flown, across the room so quickly his eyes hadn't been able to follow her.  He became momentarily terrified by her proximity.  Why did she have her arm around him as if they were on a date?  But then the girl turned her exquisite face to his and her luscious lips parted to reveal those fabulous teeth.  Her eyes sparkled.  It was such a warm, pleasant smile.  So lovely, so.. feminine.  His fear instantly evaporated.

Howser stared, getting lost in the girl's lovely brown eyes.  His nostrils detected a subtle aroma rising from her warm naked flesh that stirred something deep within him.  She spoke, her gorgeous lips moving so seductively while brief glimpses of her pink tongue fired his desire.  "You are the commander?" she inquired, sweetly.  Her warm, delicious breath washed over his face as she posed her question, making him want her even more.  He looked at her in awe and lust.  She returned his longing gaze with a seductive smile as she moved her lips closer to his and repeated "You are the commander?"

Mathers and the other men watched the scene unfolding before them, too confused to interfere.  She seemed to be seducing Howser.  Not only that, but she seemed to be trying to do it at lightening speed - and succeeding.  The Private looked like a love-struck teenager.  They heard the girl ask him twice if he was the commander.  Mathers prayed that the man would remember his military discipline.  But the expression on his face was far removed from what he expected of a professional soldier.   Mathers' heart sunk when Howser, without looking away from the alien, finally answered her.

"No," he said.  And then pointing a bony finger straight at the Base commander, he added "He is."

No sooner had the Private spoken than the girl's feminine arm moved, but before anyone had sufficient time to grasp what was happening, their ears were assaulted by a sickening, crunching sound.  Horrified, they watched as Howser collapsed to the floor, his head at a ghastly angle to his shoulders, a trickle of blood emerging from his lifeless lips.  She'd snapped his neck in a fraction of a second with her slender limb and then coldly released him as if his murder meant nothing to her.  A second later, the men came to their senses.  The two nearest her rushed at her, fists flailing.  The others, unable to use their weapons because their comrades stood in the way of the target began to spread out, moving around the room to where they might get a clear shot.  Mathers remained motionless.

Ria watched the frantic activity taking place in the room with bored disinterest.  The males seemed to be moving almost in slow-motion, as if unbearably weighted down by a mysterious force that affected everyone on the planet except her.  She saw how the other men, the ones who (she presumed) had been protecting the commander, abandoned him in their willingness to attack her.  She also saw how two men were preparing to strike her by hand and the remaining three were readying their weapons.  It would be fun for her to demonstrate the uselessness of those weapons to the commander.  But, she reckoned, the men would be unwilling to employ them whilst their comrades were at risk of being hit.  So, she decided to take those two out of the equation.

She waited patiently, not moving a hair until the first two attackers came within her reach.  She let each of them attempt to strike her head with the butts of their weapons a couple of times, enjoying the dull thud of the toughened steel meeting her infinitely harder skull.  Then she reached out her two hands, getting hold of each man by his throat before either even knew what was happening.  They redoubled their efforts to smash her head, their blows reaching a frantic intensity as she stretched her arms and rose into the air, slowly lifting them both off the ground, making sure everyone else in the room was watching.  The weight of two big soldiers felt as nothing to her as she carried them upwards, holding each by the throat with a single, petite hand.

Mathers had to crane his neck to see his men as the young woman incredibly floated into the air, lifting them as if they were mere polystyrene models of themselves.  Recalling what he had seen happen to Howser, he feared for his men.  "Put them down!" he called up to her "I'm the commander!  I'm the one you want!"  The beautiful girl ignored him totally.   "Please!"  Mathers pleaded, throwing down his pistol to show his intent to surrender.  "They're just boys.  Let them go!"

The alien's response to this was to bring her two arms together.  The bodies of the men she was holding slammed into one another an instant before the unstoppable momentum of her movement caused their heads to crash into each other with a thump that sent a shiver through the other men in the room.  She then released her twin hold and the two soldiers fell beneath her hovering feet.  Mathers did not have to look at their dull expressionless eyes to know that the impact of their skulls had been fatal.  Now the girl had killed three men in front of him - two of them after he had more-or-less offered his surrender.  He glanced up at her, still floating in the centre of the room, a triumphant smile on her lovely face.  He could take no more.  Turning to the three remaining men - all that remained of the twelve who had been his personal guard - he screamed.  "Fire!"

The men needed no second invitation.  Three triggers were squeezed and three automatic weapons began spitting out their deadly streams of lead.  But the girl did not fall out of the air.  She did not shake violently from the hundreds of impacts on her skin.  Her flesh did not turn red.  Mathers stared in shock and awe as his men raked the length and breadth of her naked perfection with killer pellets.  He heard the astonishing sound of lead striking the invulnerable target and saw how the bullets - each of which would be enough to take the life of one of his men - merely bounced off her.  The lead ricocheted from her smooth shoulders, her flat abdomen, her face, her head, her arms, her legs - even her magnificently proportioned chest.

Bent, squashed, mutilated and dented, the spent bullets rebounded from her to fall to the ground as piles of them began to grow beneath her.  It was a surreal sight.  She wasn't even blinking, let alone grimacing.  Still the men continued to unleash their metallic assault at her.  The way the slugs just got damaged and bounced off her made it look as if the soldiers were firing children's marbles at a solid steel pillar.  It was all true!  Everything he'd heard or been told about this incredible alien was true!  She could not be killed or even hurt.  And she was after him - in person.  In mortal fear, Mathers' mind clung to every scrap of hope it could find.  Maybe she had a weak spot, like Achilles in the legend, and if they hit that, she would be slain.  Maybe, if they hit her enough times, the cumulative effect would be sufficient to wound her.  Maybe.

The girl from Prytkon was running out of patience.  How long did these creatures expect her to just stand - or rather, hover - there whilst they tried and failed to tickle her with their pathetic toys?  Did they think she would just let them attempt to kill her without her doing anything in return?  Enough was enough.  Surely the "commander" had seen for himself now that she could not be opposed.  He had practically surrendered himself once already to protect his men.  Now that he'd seen both the ease with which she could hurt his soldiers and the futility of resisting her, she was convinced that he would no longer have the stomach for a fight.  Although, she laughed to herself in disgust, he did have quite a stomach.

She wanted to be alone with the commander for a little while.  The exiled, former Princess knew that there were hundreds more males outside of the building and she had a plan for them, too, but first she needed some time with their "commander".  She had enough experience of the weapons being used against her to know that she could have simply waited for them to discharge all their useless ammunition, but she decided that this was the moment to make the pointless attack cease.  With a look of mild disinterest, she turned her head slightly in the direction of the three men with the weapons then pursed her lips and casually sent a short, sharp puff of air towards them.

Her effortless exhalation translated to a gust of wind strong enough to knock all three men off their feet.  From her high vantage point, the stream of warm breath that passed through her pouting lips pushed downwards on the men's bodies, slamming their backs into the ground with sufficient force to ensure that they would never get up again.  She looked at them in contempt.  They were just too easy to kill.  She turned to the commander.  His fat face was a picture of shock.  Then, as he became aware of her gaze, that shock turned to fear and then terror.  Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.  He opened and closed his mouth several times as if he were trying to speak, but his voice was failing him.  This was more like it.  This was fun.

Mathers had never been so scared in his life.  In his early army years, he'd done his share of combat duty.  He hadn't shirked from facing the enemy and had kept his head under fire.  But this was different.  The awesome power the girl possessed, the ease with which she deployed it, and the casual manner with which she had taken so many lives were beyond anything he'd ever encountered.  He wished he could get to the cabinet for another glass of whisky, but he was frozen to the spot.  He couldn't even make himself talk.  He looked at her.  So young.  So stunningly beautiful.  It just didn't make sense.  She was smiling at him now.  Was she reading his mind?  Could she?  It wasn't so hard to believe, given what he had already seen her do.

Suddenly, she was moving.  She had been motionless, hovering in the centre of the room for so long, only moving her head to send her kiss of death at the three brave men who had tried to stop her - at his orders - with their machine guns.  Now, at last, she was moving.  Very slowly, she was floating down, moving towards him and towards the ground.  He took an instinctive, involuntary half-step backwards, almost tripping over himself before he regained his balance.  The alien did not react or alter her descent in any way, continuing to approach him until she finally came to a halt, her eyes level with his, her feet almost a foot above the floor, her magnificent body less than a yard from his.  So, he thought, this is it.

She was still smiling, and she cocked her head a little as if to indicate innocent curiosity.  With a wave of her hand, she indicated the corpses of her three most recent victims as she asked him "Why you asked these soldiers to hurt me?"

Mathers was stunned by the unexpected question.  He searched deep within himself for his voice and found it.  Unfortunately, he lost his vocabulary at the same time.

"I.. ah... I.."  The girl floated a little closer to him, closing the gap between them to about two feet.

"I am a little girl." she said, coyly.  "Why you want to hurt me?"  At last, Mathers managed to master both his brain and his voice-box.

"You killed my men." he said, more as an accusation than as an answer to her question.

"The men are not yours.  You are not the commander.  I am the commander now." she said, taking a reproachful tone, as if chastising a small child.

"If I surrender to you, you must spare the lives of the men."

The Prytkonian had not yet encountered the word "surrender" but she could guess its meaning from the context.  This male clearly still didn't understand the situation.  She hovered a little closer to him, raising herself as she did so that his eyes were now at the same height as her chin.  She wanted him to have to literally look up to her, hoping that this would help him to understand the nature of their relationship. The overweight male did not lift his head to meet her gaze.  Instead, he lowered it, his eyes growing large as he stared at her big, round breasts.  She heard the quickening of his pulse and his breathing and smelt his arousal.  Even a man like this, a man of great responsibility, pleading for the safety of countless others, a man clearly in mortal fear of her, was powerless to resist her overwhelming physical attraction.

She tried to turn his attention away from her chest and onto the small matter of his fate, by reminding him of her power.  She spoke calmly but authoritatively.  "You do not give me instructions."  Her ploy worked in part.  Although he did not divert his view from the apparently hypnotic sight of her bare bosom, he did manage to formulate a response.  He directed his words to her impossibly firm breasts.

"According to International Law, if I surrender, you must guarantee the welfare of my men."  Ria was surprised by his effrontery.  How could this male be making demands of her?  Surely he realised by now that nothing he could do could prevent her doing whatever she pleased?  And he had had the cheek to make those demands without even looking her in the face, but rather whilst he was drooling, like an adolescent, over her chest!

She lifted up her left arm, extending her index finger and bringing it, carefully, under his flabby chin.  With extreme caution - this was not the right moment to snap his neck - she raised her finger, lifting his chin.  Surprised by the strength of her tiny, feminine digit, he tried to resist her with his neck muscles, but it made no difference.  She continued to lift his head as his two fat hands came up, completely covering her delicate hand and wrist.  He pulled downwards with all his might and all his considerable weight.  The strain made him sweat even more and brought tears to his eyes but had no other effect.  She merely ignored his futile efforts as she pushed his head back until, finally, his eyes met hers.  As he blinked his vision clear, she could see his terror, more evident now than ever.  He gave up his struggle against her and let his hands fall to his sides.

Certain that she had, at last, captured his full attention, she told him her view of the situation.  Given her complete dominance, Ria knew that her view was the only view.  With her delicate finger holding the commander's head immovably in place, his neck was bent back almost as far as it could go without being permanently damaged.  Her voice was confident, yet feminine and he had no choice but to look almost straight up at her beautiful face as she spoke.  There could be no doubt who was in charge.  Her words were calculated to end any thoughts of negotiation. "It is the same if you surrender or fight.  Also for the men.  All are mine now.  I chose to kill or no.  You do not give me instructions."

Mathers swallowed hard.  Because of the angle of his neck, it hurt him, but that discomfort faded to insignificance beneath the impact of the stunning girl's announcement.  A chill ran through his body.  She was bound by no international code of conduct, respected no rights to fair treatment and offered no opportunity for dialogue.  She had made herself perfectly clear, both with her words and her actions.  There was no law for her, except her own.  And from what he had seen, the Base Commander understood that he and his men were powerless to alter that terrifying fact.  With tears - of emotion, not pain - in his eyes he pleaded with her, like a child begging for its favourite toy not to be confiscated.  "Please... Don't hurt the men."

Then, finding deep within himself the special quality that had made him a leader amongst soldiers, he added, in a slightly less pathetic voice, "Kill me if you must, but please don't hurt the men."  It was all he could do.  He could not fight her - she could not be harmed.  He could not offer her a deal - what did he have that she couldn't just take if she wanted it?  He only recourse was to appeal to her for mercy.  It was a quality he'd seen little evidence of in her behaviour so far.  He scanned her face, looking for a trace - a glimmer even - of a softening of her attitude.  She continued to hold his chin up with a single finger as she stared back at him, apparently unimpressed by his plea.

They had heroism on Prytkon.  Ria recalled, with anger, how the leaders of the uprising against her father had been called "heroes".  She recognised the commander's selflessness in offering her his life in exchange for that of his men.  And her understanding of his language was advanced enough now for her to appreciate that the use of the word "please" converted his words from an instruction to a request.  But she still was not satisfied.  Hadn't she made it perfectly clear?  She was the only one to decide who was killed and who was spared.  And she was not going to be influenced by the requests of the creatures of this planet.  Perhaps the commander needed a fresh demonstration of her power.

Keeping her finger in place under the fat man's head, the girl from Prytkon used her free hand to tear his clothes from his body in thick strips.  Her dainty fingers and nails ripped through his thick leather belt and his trousers as effortlessly as they shredded his shirt.  She acted with care so as not to tear his flesh as she wanted him very much alive for now, but she had him naked but for his feet in very little time.  He seemed ashamed of his uncovered body - as if she hadn't been able to examine every inch of him while he had been dressed!  She had long since known that, in one sense at least, he was far from being a leader among men.  But she could only assume that his men did not know.  She would have to address that lack of knowledge.

Mathers found himself blushing as the girl ripped his uniform apart as though it was made of tissue paper.  Even his leather belt!  She left him standing in just his shoes and socks, the hint of a smirk on her face as he tried to place his hand over his penis.  That made him even more ashamed.  Then, at last, she removed her finger from his chin and he was able to relax his neck.  But before he could properly appreciate the sense of relief, she had thrust her hand under his arm.  Then she lifted him bodily from the ground with that single, petite hand under his armpit.  His whole weight dangled uncomfortably from her slender arm, her expression letting him see how easy it was for her to carry him this way.  He made no effort to escape her grip; he already knew how futile it would be.

The girl was rising into the air - flying - with him hanging helplessly like a child's toy from her one-handed hold.  They floated upwards through the hole which Mathers now knew she'd smashed in the ceiling.  In the room upstairs he saw what had happened to Johnson, the man who'd first climbed through that hole to investigate.  Another victim of the beautiful, naked, teenage girl.  That sight was nothing compared to the sickening carnage he witnessed in the corridor as she dragged him through the air.  The floor was littered with bits of body; heads, torsos and blood everywhere.  It might well have made a man without Mathers' experience of the horrors of war physically sick.

They made their way through the building - or rather the slim young girl carried the big fat man through the building.  Wherever he looked there were signs of the destruction she had wrought.  The walls and ceilings of the command centre had been punctured and smashed so many times, the building resembled a Swiss cheese.  Here and there, Mathers saw bits of twisted, torn steel reinforcement girders.  He knew few weapons that could cause so much damage.  Was he to believe that this young girl had done it with nothing but her smooth, perfect bare flesh?  There were dead, dying and severely injured men throughout the building, some trapped under piles of rubble.  Others appeared to have been crushed in various ways or smashed against one of the few still-intact walls.

Still the girl carried him upwards through the ruined building, passing the horrific scenes she had created without so much as a flicker of emotion.  They were heading towards the roof.  Or rather, as Mathers discovered when they reached the rubble-filled top floor, what had once been the roof.  Now, the command centre appeared open to the sky; almost the entire roof having been destroyed.  The Base Commander looked at the incredible sight and then at the slim naked youth who was responsible for it - presumably when she had descended from the sky at unfathomable speed, turning her petite sexy body into a weapon of unimaginable destruction.  It was then that he remembered the anti-aircraft crews that had been stationed up there.  They'd never stood a chance.

"Did...did you do all this?" Mathers heard himself asking her as she pulled him ever upwards out of the command centre.  For the first time there was a sign of some sort of reaction on her face.  She seemed... proud.

"I am commander of all." she said, satisfied with his shock.  "I will tell all the men."  The men! Mathers had almost forgotten about the rest of the base.  There were hundreds of them, posted all around the perimeter and more around the command centre.  He himself had positioned them, thinking they would repulse an attack from what was then the mysterious alien force.  He knew now that they would have been as ineffective as his men inside the building had proven.  Nothing could stop this... this girl.  For a girl was all she appeared to be.

The commander looked down at the activity taking place on the ground.  He spotted several jeeps speeding by and large groups of men arranged around the fuel and arms dumps and other key areas of the base.  The four tanks under his command - did he have a command now? - were positioned as per his orders at the four corners of the perimeter fence.  Scattered between the armoured vehicles lay the dozen big guns, each manned by a crew of four.  By now, Mathers figured, they must know that things had gone wrong inside the command centre.  But he'd given them strict orders not to enter and they had obeyed.

Nevertheless, Mathers was confused.  Surely someone down there would've contacted someone on the outside for advice.  And what about the authorities in D.C. who were supposedly monitoring the situation?  Where were they?  It didn't look like there was any extra presence down there.  Maybe they'd been abandoned by the rest of the military.  Maybe the brass were adopting a wait-and-see policy, keeping a low profile until they knew a little more about what they were up against.  Glancing up at his captor as she flew over the base, her hand under his arm all that prevented him from falling the hundred feet to splatter in the dust below, the Commander thought he knew what they were up against.  A combination of the legendary unstoppable force and immovable object, with a bad attitude and packaged in the naked body of the most beautiful young woman he'd ever seen.

They began to descend.  Or, more accurately, she began to descend and whilst her slender fingers were curled around his arm he had no choice but to go wherever she took him.  A member of one of the heavy gun crews spotted them and began pointing.  The discovery spread like a ripple through the base until almost everyone was looking up at the two naked figures as they approached the ground.  The girl stopped to hover about ten feet up, as if waiting to ensure that she had the attention of all those in the vicinity, making sure they could see that she held the man who they recognised as their leader in one hand and that he was naked.  A crowd was forming beneath them.  The jeeps raced over and parked amongst the throng.  The tanks rumbled from their stations.

Hundreds of miles away, the same scene flickered grainily on a huge wall-mounted monitor.  Eight men, five of them in suits, the other three in military uniforms sat in expensive chairs watching the screen intently.  As they stared at the over-weight, middle-aged man dangling like a rag-doll from the alien's hand, one of the military man announced to the others "Yeah. That's Mathers.  No question."

A grey-haired man in a dark blue suit turned away from the screen to address the first speaker.  "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive, sir."

"So are we to assume that our initial assessment was correct?  The men in the Command Centre at Burpford have been defeated and the Base Commander is now a prisoner of the extraterrestrial invader?"

"That would appear to be the case, sir."

"Do we know what the alien's intentions are?"

"Not at present, sir."

"Is she acting alone or as part of a larger force?"

"As far as we can tell this far, she's alone."

"And from a military perspective, General, what would you suggest is our next course of action?"

"I believe we should hold off for now, sir, and attempt to discover the extraterrestrial's plan.  We still have contact with some of the men at the base, and we can instruct them to attack at any moment, should that appear a necessary course of action."

"Do you think the heavy weapons on the site will have an effect after what must have occurred inside the Command Centre?"

"We don't know, sir."

"Then let's wait for now.  We'll see what she wants.  Gentlemen, might I remind you that we need to keep this as low-key as possible.  If word gets out to the public that there's an indestructible hostile super-human at large, the panic will be impossible to contain.  As long as we keep this within Burpford Base, we have every chance of finding a solution.  If it gets out, Gentlemen, then God help us all.  General, instruct your men to do nothing until they hears from us."

"Yes sir, Mr. President."

Meanwhile, at that moment at Burpford, the alien girl opened the dainty fingers of her hand, pulling her arm away from the flabby flesh of the base commander.  Without the phenomenal strength and unearthly gravity-defying powers of the beautiful young girl to hold him in the air, the commander had nowhere to go but to ground.  He fell the ten feet to the dusty earth to land in an awkward heap with a yell that was cut short by the thud of his impact.  Motionless, naked, wounded and covered now in dirt, he lay amongst the feet of his men who stood back, forming a circle around and above him.

There was a collective gasp from the men as they beheld what had become of their leader and the youth and beauty of the girl who had brought him to that condition.  A few of them, seeing they now had a clear sight of the intruder, began to prepare their weapons to attack her.  Just then, a murmur went through the crowd.  They had received word from the army big boys.  No-one was to do anything until further notice.  They were to hold fire, even under provocation.  The men fell silent and even the tank commanders seemed to have got the message when, a moment later, they cut their engines.  Everyone was waiting on the alien.

Ria came down to the ground slowly and gracefully, landing on the soles of her pretty feet in direct contrast to the way the commander had descended.  The men edged nervously back all around, leaving her standing alone next to the prone commander in the centre of a rough circle surrounded by a growing crowd of anxious on-lookers.  She smiled, enjoying the feeling of power as she read not only the fear and anger on the hundreds of male faces, but also the lust that their eyes betrayed as they stared, transfixed by her overwhelming naked beauty.

She took a step towards the commander, enjoying the way the men nearest her shuffled away, eager to maintain the distance between themselves - several hundred armed soldiers - and her - an unarmed slim teenage girl.  It was almost enough to make her laugh.  She could so easily have killed them all, no matter how far they tried to get from her.  But she needed them alive right now.  She wanted them to act as witnesses to what she was about to do to their leader.  What better place to humiliate a man than in front of his so-called inferiors?

The commander was still conscious after his fall, but he was breathing heavily and the crash had caused him some severe bruising.  No matter.  Another step with her long, shapely legs carried her to stand astride his prostrate body, one foot either side of his shoulders as she towered above him, looking down contemptuously at his helplessness.  He squinted up at her, his expression a mixture of fear and awe, but she turned away, raising her head to address the crowd.

"I killed all in there," she said, flatly, as she indicated the half-destroyed command centre building with a sweep of her hand.  "If one man moves, all will die here also."  No-one moved.  Then she bent her head to look at the commander once again.  "Sit." she instructed him.

Mathers wasn't sure now if he was still alive, or if he was dreaming all this.  He hurt all over.  He was aware that he was naked in front of the entire base, being ordered to sit up by a girl who was standing over him.  But if he sat up in his current position, his head would be almost in her crotch…. He decided neither to question her, nor to hesitate in carrying out her wish; there were too many lives at stake.  Trying to ignore the pain that tore through him, he hauled his back up off the dirt, gazing up into her beautiful face, all to well aware of the neat little triangle of extraterrestrial pubic hair that loomed mere inches from his chin.

Her intentions towards him became clear a second later.  The girl, her head now tilted upwards as if she thought it beneath her to even look at him, gave him his instructions.

"Give me pleasure."

The commander knew what she wanted him to do.  He obeyed instantly, leaning towards her and burying his face for a moment in her little garden.  She smelt lovely.  He moved his head down now, extending his tongue and seeking out her sensitive spots.  He'd done this before, although never in this position and never under such circumstances.  He probed her anatomy with the tip of his tongue, licking and caressing the entrance to her sex, desperately wanting to avoid upsetting her.

The girl's vagina appeared to be the same as any Earth girl's, but he was not surprised to discover that his tongue was unable to penetrate it no matter how earnestly he tried.  He brought his hands up between her silky round thighs, using his thumbs to try and part her nether lips until he ached from the effort, but still he had no success.  All the while he continued to lick at her, now and again biting her intimate flesh, confident in the assumption that even his most aggressive tries would not cause her discomfort.  In fact, she seemed to be showing no reaction whatsoever.  He opened his mouth wide, attempting to sink his teeth into her skin whilst sucking with all his strength, but still to no avail.

With his jaw aching, and his hands cramping, the commander shed silent tears as he continued to strive to please the young girl.  His only reward was the sound of her voice from somewhere high above announcing that "This is not enough."  In desperation he began to rub his entire face backwards and forwards over her sex, feeling the bruises forming as her harder-than-steel pelvis pressed against his fragile flesh.

Cuts and abrasions began to appear as his skin rubbed off against her pubic hairs until he could stand no more.  He used his hands again. This time, though, he was not massaging her but hitting her, slapping her, punching her vagina over and over until his knuckles bled and his palms were almost black.  He yelled in pain and frustration as he landed each blow until the agony was so great, he collapsed, his face resting against her groin as he cried openly.

But his respite lasted only for an instant.  He felt the girl's own flawless palm on the back of his head as she pushed his face back down to her sex.  He lacked the strength to offer her even token resistance as she pressed him against her intimacy, rubbing him violently against her until, one by one his front teeth were forced from his gums and his mouth filled with the taste of his own blood.  Almost lost in a fog of pain, he heard a crack as a new agony raced through his brain, his nose shattered against the young woman's femininity.

Then, suddenly, it stopped.  His vision was blurred and his other senses almost dimmed to nothingness, but he was aware that the amazing assault had ended.  Through bruised and battered eyes he could see that he was moving away from her crotch.  Vaguely he could feel her fingers digging into his neck and he surmised that she was lifting him up onto his feet.  He could just about sense the blood streaming down his face as he rose up her body.  Then he became aware that he was turning - or rather that she was turning him - away from her and towards his men.

It seemed to be getting darker every second, but he could just about make out the faces staring at him.  He was being held up to be seen by everyone.  He felt dizzy.  The girl seemed to be rotating, as if she was making sure that the entire crowd got a good view of his battered, bloody face.  The endless shocked soldiers merged into one pink-brown smear that faded, ever darker, ever darker, until, finally, there was only black.  Then, there was nothing at all.

The men recoiled in horror at the sight of the man they had looked up to for so long, now reduced to a helpless, bleeding wreck.  A proud soldier, meeting his fate not in battle, but at the hands and the sex of a stunningly attractive girl from the stars.  A girl who had already killed so many of their comrades.  A girl they knew now had to be stopped.  Whatever the cost.

Ria lifted the commander up to his men, moving him slowly.  She wanted to be absolutely certain that every single one of them could see him and realise what she had done to him with the very core of her womanhood.  And she wanted him to see them.  She could hear his pulse becoming irregular and his breathing shallower.  She knew he was dying.  She wanted him to know his humiliating end was being witnessed by his men.

The body in her grasp went limp.  It was over.  The commander was no more.  It had been too quick.  Next time, she thought, she would have to be more careful with her victim so that she could enjoy his destruction more fully.  She flung the corpse unthinkingly away, over the heads of the crowd, watching its long arc through the air until it came down inside the building where she had first found it when it had been a dignified, clothed, living man.  Then she turned her attention to the terrified men all around her.

There was a complete silence.  A silence broken only by a faint, disembodied voice.  Only two of those present heard it.  One of them was a soldier at the back of the crowd, his radio ear-piece crackling as he received long-awaited instructions from his nation's leader.  The other was the daughter of the former Emperor of the planet Prytkon.  Her super-human sense of hearing was more than capable of catching the words transmitted from afar.

She was angry.  Despite everything, these creatures preferred to take orders from one of their own.  And, it seemed, they still believed they could resist her.  Let them try, she thought.  She would show them all her true power.  It might even be enjoyable.  After all, she surely had nothing to fear.  She was already smiling as the cry went up from the male with the communicator.

"Attack!" he screamed.

 

Conceptfan, May 2002.

Chapter 7

By now, the men were all pretty certain that everyone in the Command Center was dead. They'd watched from outside, under strict orders not to interfere as what looked like a supersonic missile had crashed through the roof of the building. It had transpired not to be a missile, but rather something far, far more dangerous than any missile. It was a stunningly beautiful, naked teenaged girl. No-one doubted the rumours anymore. Not since they'd watched her crushing their commander to death against her perfect groin, holding his corpse up for all to see and then casually tossing it so that it landed two hundred yards from her.

After that, there was no reason to question the stories that had circulated. Tales of how this same girl had been responsible for the downing of a squad of jet fighters as well as the killing of a search party from the base. And it didn't take much imagination to figure out what must have taken place in the Command Center either - how she had gone through the multi-story building room by room, destroying anything or anyone that stood in her way before grabbing Commander Mathers. After that, she had carried out her little "demonstration of power" with their unfortunate leader.

But the men of Burpford Army Base were certain that they could give this girl - this sexy, deadly alien - a demonstration of their own. They were well-trained and well-equipped. And they were proud of their base. They wanted to be known as the men who nullified the extraterrestrial menace. Knowing the fate of their colleagues in the Command Center - not to mention their Commander - made them all the more determined. They were preparing to battle for their lives. Their enemy was phenomenally powerful and unspeakably dangerous. It - or she - had to be stopped and Mathers and the others had to be avenged.

They thought they understood the scale of the task. Many of them were thinking the same thing; if she had caused so much damage indoors and captured the Commander, then surely she must have come under machine gun fire. Yet she was most definitely still alive - apparently without a scratch anywhere on her flawless body. How were they supposed to stop - let alone kill - a being that appeared invulnerable to automatic weapons? A being who possessed seemingly unlimited strength and power and a willingness to use her abilities to deadly effect without compunction. A being who appeared for all the world to be a beautiful, naked, young woman.

As the soldiers took up their positions, they sought to ease their nerves anyway they could. They saw that unlike inside the Command Centre, the target was out in the open here, unable to hide behind walls. Furthermore, there were many times more men out here than had been protecting the now-ruined building. But by far the biggest source of reassurance for the men was the presence of twelve mortar-launchers and four armored tanks. The alien might have proved capable of withstanding automatic weapons fire, but nothing could survive the big guns and the tank canon that were now surrounding her. The fighting men of Burpford were confident that they would not be defeated by a single, unarmed girl.

At the same time, the daughter of the last Emperor of Prytkon stood proudly on the surface of her new homeworld. She knew she was standing in the middle of what the natives called Burpford Army Base. All around her, on every side, were hundreds of hostile, heavily-armed combat-trained men. Every single one of them was staring at her. Perhaps that was due to her unearthly beauty which she, unlike the norm for the planet, did not hide under clothes. Or it might have been the fact that, moments before, she had very publicly humiliated and killed their so-called "commander." With nothing but her hands... and her crotch.

The attack order had gone out. Ria knew that she was about to face the full military force of several hundred soldiers. She wasn't afraid. Why should she be? After all she had already played in the burning gases of the planet's sun and watched an asteroid crumbling against her unprotected body without coming to harm. Surely these creatures couldn't have created a weapon to exceed those extremes. She watched them preparing to mount their offensive. They moved so slowly and so clumsily! Why did they want to risk their lives by opposing her? Hadn't they seen enough of her power to understand that she was invincible?

It was clear that the answer to the last question was negative. Too bad for the men scrambling about, she thought. She would have to show them her superiority. Slowly, gracefully, she turned a full circle on the spot, studying the ponderous activity around her, trying to anticipate what the males were planning. They were supposed to be attacking her, yet if anything they were moving away from her. Most were collecting in small groups. They crouched near to the ground, no cluster closer than fifteen paces from her, each man holding his weapon so that the long cylinder at the front pointed at her head. She smiled. She already knew that these weapons couldn't hurt her.

Behind the groups of men on the ground, Ria spotted twelve large metal objects scattered across the base, each about the size of two crouching soldiers. The strange objects had larger versions of the long tubes that were on the firearms the individual men were carrying. She guessed that they were just much bigger variations of the same type of weapon. Four men kneeled by each of the devices, some of them turning wheels that adjusted the position of the cylinders. She almost laughed when she realised that the males needed special contraptions just to move so small a piece of metal.

The former Princess' attention soon left the strange, cumbersome devices and focused on the four much larger metal boxes positioned around the periphery of the encircling men. They were obviously some type of vehicle - she'd seen them moving earlier, albeit incredibly slowly. There was a large, flexible loop that covered the wheels along either side of each one. Ria guessed that these were designed to allow the heavy machines to move over rough terrain. Just a further indication of how primitive this planet's technology was compared to Prytkon's.

She was far more interested in the cylinders mounted on the roofs of the four devices. Cylinders just like on the portable weapons the uniformed males brandished. Just like on the dozen smaller machines dotted about her. Only the ones on the metal boxes were much, much larger. She wondered if they worked on the same principle - objects crudely forced through the tubes by noisy explosions. If so, they looked like they could handle far bigger projectiles than the tiny little pellets she had faced up to that moment. But, she reminded herself, nothing that could fit in those cylinders would match a meteorite speeding through space. She had nothing to fear here.

She cast her gaze once more at the males and their various machines all around. They seemed to be on the point of beginning their onslaught. Almost disinterestedly, she wondered which of them she should kill first and then, how she should do it. There were so many ways in which she could destroy these feeble creatures. The almost endless possibilities reminded her of the crushing superiority she enjoyed on this world. That thought excited her far more than the idea that she was about to take the lives of so many males. Killing, for Ria, was merely a necessary way to establish her longed-for rule. That was why she would have to defeat these men slowly, to make sure the survivors would spread the tale of her might and their fear of her power.

The soldiers had taken up their positions. They lay or crouched on the dusty ground in little groups of three or four, spread out in a wide circle around the alien, fingers touching the triggers of their weapons. Further out, the mortars were prepared, shells loaded, target settings adjusted. The four tank commanders had received special orders, unknown to the rest of the base.  They started up their engines once more.  Burpford was ready. The complete firepower of the army base was targeted on the silky, bare skin of the single, slender girl.

An eerie stillness fell over the area. The hundred or so groups of men were unmoving, apart from the trembling of trigger-fingers. The only sound was the rumble of the idling engines of each of the four tanks. The girl stood perfectly motionless, the soles of her pretty feminine feet for once firmly planted on the ground beneath her. Her long, shapely legs were very slightly spread apart and her hands were resting lightly on her curvaceous hips in a gesture of defiant dominance. Her flawless, inviting crotch and her large, perfectly rounded breasts were clearly visible to the men on that side of her. Those on the other side enjoyed an unencumbered view of the most immaculate peach-like female rear on the planet. Many gawped but no-one moved.

Ria cast her bright clear eyes at lightning speed from one side to the other. Her remarkable vision pierced the uniforms of the men in front of her and let her see, to her great amusement, that despite their battle-readiness and despite their obvious fear of the moments to come, most of them had erections. She smiled, satisfied in the knowledge that her sheer physical beauty was having its usual effect on the males of the planet. Her rich, full lips parted so that her ideally-proportioned, white, straight teeth were displayed. Bizarrely, a few of the men smiled back at her. She assumed this was just a symptom of their inability to resist the radiance of her unworldly stunning face.

But her grin was not universally infectious. A few of the men facing her interpreted her amusement as the external sign of some evil intent. Nervous already, the few moments of inaction had heightened their anxiety and the sudden change in the girl's countenance was the cue that they were looking for. For these men, there was no possibility of waiting to find out what the alien's sexy smirk preluded. They and their colleagues were ready. The time for hesitation had passed the instant she had curled back her lips. Now, it was time for the battle to begin.

Ria's incredible senses detected the increased heartbeats of those hyper-tense men and she saw without difficulty the tiny movement of the fingers that controlled their firearms. She knew that the barrage was about to begin even before she detected the individual miniature explosions within the first twenty-three weapons to be fired. She saw each flash of light at the end of each weapon and watched the first little metal pellets floating out towards her. Then, slowly, she heard the bangs of more weapons being activated behind her and at her sides. The others were clearly reacting as fast as they could to the early shooters. The long delay between the activation of each weapon was simply a reflection of the ponderous slowness of these creatures' thoughts and deeds.

By the time all the hundreds of men around her had fired, the first few projectiles had reached her. She had time enough to simply swat them away one by one, but she knew that her audience would not be able to follow her movements. She wanted to give them a demonstration that they could not misinterpret. She decided that, as she was surrounded by hostile fire, the most stark thing she could do to display her power would be to do nothing. Absolutely nothing. She just stood perfectly still, the grin fixed on her angel's face, her palms utterly stationary on her hips, feet unmoving. She didn't even blink as the first tapered tips of tiny metal missiles slammed into her.

To the men it had seemed as if they had all opened fire at once. There was no pause between the squeezing of triggers and the impact of bullets on target. Without the incredibly fast reflexes of the alien, they could not separate the sound of each slug from the overall deafening racket. Neither could they see the individual bullets in flight before they impacted their target. But they could see the girl behind the wall of blurred ammunition. They could see that she wasn't falling under the barrage. She hadn't even brought her hands up to protect her face. In fact, she didn't appear to be in any kind of discomfort whatsoever. Now and again, the men in front of her even caught a glimpse of her unchanging smile.

Crouched by one of the dozen mortars, Sergeant Frankie Holt watched the incredible scene unfolding in front of him. The noise of hundreds of automatic weapons filled the air, yet though he was staring at the beautiful girl, he could see no change in her. It couldn't be possible that so many trained shooters were missing such a clear, close target. And it was unthinkable that she could be shot repetitively without any reaction. He brought his binoculars up to his eyes to get a better view of her. That was when he realized, with a feeling of deep shock, that the men were not missing her.

The bullets were hitting her. Thousands and thousands of them, in fact, were striking her every second. He focused in on her exquisite face. There was the dazzling smile, as relaxed as when it had first appeared. The air all around it appeared full of darting insects. But he soon noticed that the insects were countless steel-tipped lead slugs. Most were moving too quickly to be seen as anything more than a blur, but others were traveling slow enough to be clearly visible as bullets. Holt soon realized that these slower bullets were all misshapen - bent or partially flattened. And they were all moving away from the girl's face. With a jolt, he understood - these were ricochets!

He moved his glasses to study the rest of the extraterrestrial's glorious, naked, female body. There were bullets bouncing off all parts of her! He noticed a ring of spent shots slowly building up on the ground all around her, a testament to the incredible volume of ammunition striking her. Looking back at her, he squinted, trying to concentrate on small areas of her perfect flesh to see for himself the way each bullet that hit her failed to penetrate her flawless skin. It was no good. He could only see the battered slugs retreating from her once most of their energy had seemingly been absorbed by her invulnerable body.

Sergeant Holt observed a stream of partially flattened lead pellets bouncing in a range of directions from her smooth-looking rounded shoulder and realized that the skin there had to be harder than any diamond. As he tracked over the delicious subtle outline of her stomach muscles, he saw that the shots that ricocheted from there were coin-shaped, witness to both the flatness and to the inconceivably unyielding nature of her sexy belly. A little lower and there was the unbelievable sight of a stream of damaged lead heading sharply earthward having failed to breach even her most intimate flesh. His mind raced as he calculated how the less-squashed form of these slugs implied that her groin was softer than her abdomen, if nonetheless utterly bulletproof.

He couldn't believe what he was observing as he traced his binoculars downwards. More shots were pinging from her thighs, displaying only slightly flattened tips, suggesting that the delicious round flesh there had given slightly, soaking up most of the momentum of each shot. The bullets Holt observed flying from her knees, however, had been reduced to paper-thin, jar-lid-wide discs. There was no give at all there. Just some impossibly hard, indestructible substance, hidden beneath a thin layer of what appeared to be the smoothest, silkiest skin he'd ever seen in his life.

He focused his lenses on the girl's face once more. She was still smiling! Her lips and her teeth were so sexy, he found himself staring at them. A couple of incoming bullets smacked into her teeth as he watched; he only saw the flattened remains of them spinning away, leaving behind them untouched, flawless enamel. Even her jaws were invulnerable. Holt moved his glasses to study her clear, unblinking eyes. Sure enough, he saw mutilated slugs bouncing from them too. Her complete lack of reaction made it quite clear that even a steel-tipped bullet hitting her very eyeball caused her no discomfort. She was truly incredible.

Losing himself for a moment in his wonder, Holt's binocular-boosted gaze wandered away from the girl's lovely eyes, down past her mouth once more, following her exquisite neck to come to rest squarely on her magnificent chest. There, he saw the first sign of movement on her wonderful body. The mere sight of her two big, round breasts astonished him. They had to be the firmest, most erotic he had ever glimpsed. But what made the vision vastly more startling was the way that each generous mound seemed to be vibrating very slightly. It took him a few moments to work out that this trembling was in fact the effect of countless high-speed steel and lead impacts every second.

He understood it when he caught sight of the spent shots that were rebounding from those fabulous breasts. Unlike the squashed ricochets from the other parts of her, the slugs that bounced off her bosoms were only a little bent or misshapen. The quivering effect he saw was her softest flesh yielding briefly to each bullet as it struck her. He gasped as he observed one particular shot glancing from the immaculate curve of the inside of one breast only to press against the other, dimpling it for a second before becoming momentarily trapped in her deep, inviting cleavage. He wondered what it would be like to touch such sexy, feminine flesh. Flesh which was clearly soft on the surface at least - yet utterly indestructible beneath.

Sergeant Holt was not the only member of the mortar crews gawping at the girl in a mixture of shock, disbelief and sexual hunger. One of his colleagues, situated immediately behind the alien, was also making good use of his binoculars. Corporal Dan Reid was totally unaware that his tongue was actually hanging from his open mouth, dripping saliva onto the dusty ground. He was far too engrossed with the view that filled his twin lenses; the most spherical, smooth, unblemished, and tight-looking pair of buttocks that any Earthman had ever beheld. Buttocks which, Reid observed, were just as immune to machine-gun fire as any other part of the girl's unworldly anatomy.

Because of the perfect roundness of her two rear cheeks, the slugs that struck them were rebounding away along an infinite number of different trajectories. As Reid squirmed on the ground, subconsciously rubbing his groin against the hard earth, he saw the way the bullets pinging off her incredible backside looked as if they'd been dramatically squashed. His brain needed a few moments to arrive at the comprehension of it all - that the shots had indeed been squashed - squeezed out of shape by their own momentum as they pressed up against the ungiving skin of her superhuman ass. It was all to much for the Corporal. He stained the front of his uniform with jet after jet of his seed, his lust far exceeding his shame.

The mortar crews had not been called into action yet and Reid was able to hide his embarrassment by lying flat on his belly next to the launcher he was assigned to. It was the same for Private Chris Ricketts, the man responsible for loading one of the other mortar tubes. His vantage point gave him a sideways-on view of the astonishing alien girl, allowing him to witness an unending stream of bullets spraying from the dramatic curves of her left breast and hip as she stood in profile to him. The incredible contrast between the fullness of her bosom and the slenderness of her waist seemed almost beyond belief to Ricketts. The wonder of her invulnerability was lost to him as he focused his binoculars in his trembling hands, his eyes glued to her protruding perfect pink nipple.

The girl from Prytkon was aware that some of the men stationed by the larger non-portable weapons were just staring at her. She saw a couple of them holding strange black objects up to their eyes and assumed that these were some kind of devices to compensate for the creatures' inadequate visual senses. A quick investigation with her own unaided, but infinitely more powerful, eyes revealed an inner mechanism of prisms, mirrors and lenses that reminded her of contraptions from her own planet's ancient history. Only here, she gathered, they were still in use.

Whilst the primitive nature of the technology on display did not really interest her, she was not pleased by the way the males were using the devices to ogle her. They were supposed to be marveling at the uselessness of their weapons against her, not staring at her chest like helpless adolescents! A sharp, familiar odor reached her sensitive nostrils. One of the men behind her had orgasmed - presumably from the sight of her rear alone. And this in the middle of a battle! Enough was enough. She had stood still letting them have their fun for long enough. Something like a million of their little metal pellets had hit her body, and not a single one had caused her as much as a bruise or a scratch. Now, it was her turn.

Sergeant Holt was still staring through his lenses at the girl's impossible, invulnerable chest when his narrow field of vision suddenly seemed to change. Putting down the glasses to get a proper view, he saw, like the hundreds of others present, that she was now walking slowly forwards. The smile was still fixed on her face, and her hands were still arrogantly on her hips. Thousands of bullets were slamming into, and bouncing off, her lovely skin every second, but now she was striding. Her easy, graceful steps continued completely unaffected by the steel-tipped onslaught as she approached one of the small clusters of shooters from the hundred or so that had surrounded her.

From his vantage point behind the crouching men that the alien was nearing, Holt watched, wondering what she intended. When she was within about ten yards of them, a shout went around the base to cease firing. She was too close now; a shot meant for her could well hit one of the men. Or, a ricochet from her glorious body might prove disastrous. Besides, the soldiers of Burpford were beginning to realize that machine gun fire was ineffective against her. The girl had taken too many bullets from every conceivable angle without even getting a scratch. There was no point using up any more ammo for now. As the last shooters released their triggers, the restored quiet was remarkably dramatic.

The extraterrestrial had now reached the rough circle of mutilated spent bullets that had grown around her during the assault. Those near enough to her heard a loud metallic crunching as her delicate bare foot came down on the pile of lead. Then another crunch accompanied her next step followed by a third as she completed another stride. After that, she was clear of the scattered ring of used bullets, only about five yards from the nearest group of men. Anyone nearby, or equipped with binoculars, was able to see the incredible sight of three petite feminine footprints pressed deep into the steel and lead she had trodden upon.

Ria wasn't sure at first why all the soldiers had stopped using their weapons. She quickly surmised that they were afraid of firing them now that she was close to some of their colleagues. Whilst a million of the little pellets had had absolutely no effect on her, she knew that just a single one of them could be deadly to these males. But it made no difference to her if they were using their noisemakers or not. She continued to approach the group of four crouching men in front of her, her hands unmoving on her womanly hips. She studied the men, watching the fear grow in their eyes as she got ever closer.

Only three paces away now, her proximity was having a profound effect on the quartet. One was lying on his belly, his weapon shaking violently in his trembling hands as he craned his neck to stare up at her, open-mouthed. Another was still holding his firearm firmly in place, as if ready to resume using it at any moment. A third, was slowly drawing himself up his his feet as though preparing to face her. The last male was crouched on his knees, reaching for something that was attached to his leg. It looked like a sharpened piece of metal attached to a handle, like the knives of ancient Prytkon. Surely he wasn't intending to attack her with that?

While she watched the men near her feet moving around, she was aware of some much larger-scale activity occurring behind her. The sound of cloth shuffling against cloth and dirt, the noise of feet being slowly raised and lowered, the crashing of heartbeats and rasping of breath were all perfectly clear to her. She didn't need to turn around to know exactly what was happening. A large number of men - she counted sixty-two heartbeats - were approaching from behind her. Because of the way they were making much less noise than usual and the fact that only the men outside of her field of vision were moving, she guessed that they were trying to catch her by surprise. She decided to let them continue for now.

The males she was walking towards were much less subtle. The one with the knife jumped to his feet, drew his arm back and then brought it forward. His clenched teeth told her he was putting all his strength into the effort. Though she could have easily avoided the attack, she just held herself still, leaving her hands on her hips as the glinting blade came towards her neck. She still couldn't believe that this creature hoped to cause her harm with such a prehistoric weapon. Nonetheless, she let him try and plunge the thing into her, all the while listening to the shuffling around behind her.

Sergeant Holt watched as one of the men the alien had walked up to pulled out his knife and sprang to his feet. He felt a rush of admiration for the man's bravery and a simultaneous sense of dread as he prepared to slash the girl. Holt watched the blade flashing down towards the extraterrestrial's smooth, feminine neck. He saw the point press into her silky skin, expecting to see jets of blood. But instead, he saw the long knife blade bending dramatically and then loudly snapping. The broken tip struck the girl's chin and spun towards the man who had attacked her. The sergeant saw it tear through the man's sleeve, a spurt of blood suddenly shooting from his arm.

The wounded soldier dropped what was left of his knife and clutched the deep gash below his shoulder, looking first at the cut and then at the girl whose perfect body was utterly unmarked. He was joined by his colleague who had been getting to his feet during the attempted stabbing and now stood by his side. The two were tall and they stood so close together that they obscured Holt's sight of the alien. They did not however block his view of the men creeping up on her from behind. They were in a tight bunch, the nearest of them about fifteen yards from her.

Holt stared amazed as the two soldiers with their backs to him suddenly became a long, vertical blur. In an instant, the girl was visible again. Her long, slender arms were now stretched upwards to the clouds. There was no sign of the two men who had been standing in front of her, as if they had just dematerialized. What the hell had happened? Before he could wonder for long, the two other men lying a couple of yards from the girl jumped to their feet with a yell. That was the cue for the entire crowd behind her to charge forward with an almighty battle cry. They surged towards her, knives and fists held high overhead, mouths open, yelling as they ran.

Ria did not let her smile fade when the two in front jumped up to their feet and the men behind began to stampede noisily at her. She knew that she had dispatched the other pair - the one with the knife and his friend - too quickly. The scream of attack told her that the males understood what she had done, even if they had been too slow to actually see it. What she had done was to quickly take her hands from her hips and bring them up, one palm under each man's chin. Then she'd just lifted them both sharply without holding on to them so that they could rocket upwards unimpeded. They were soaring towards the upper reaches of the atmosphere within the time it would have taken their hearts to beat twice - had they still been alive.

Even though she was impressed with her own strength, the girl from Prytkon knew she would have to restrict her movements to a speed that the creatures around her could follow if she wanted them to fully comprehend her power. So she slowly brought her arms back to her sides and waited patiently for the men around her to take the necessary strides until they were within reach. She did not move as the first blows rained down on her back, or even when the males began trying to jump on top of her. Eventually she was completely surrounded by the screaming mob; sixty-four military men attacking a single, naked young woman.

Ria watched amused as one by one, the men injured themselves attempting to strike her with their fists, their feet and their blades. One man climbed on her shoulders as she remained as immobile as a metal statue. He jumped - perhaps trying to knock her off her feet - slipped on her smooth skin and fell awkwardly amongst his colleagues, yelling loudly. A lightening-quick glance with her enhanced vision let her see the broken bones in his ankle and leg. Other males hurt themselves against each other - either by falling onto one another or by accidentally striking their colleagues in their eagerness to hurt her. She let the farce continue for a while.

Sergeant Holt stared at the melee taking place only a few dozen yards from where he was crouched. Now and again he caught a glimpse of the incredible alien girl through the masses of men attacking her. Every time he saw her, she was in exactly the same position, remaining perfectly still despite the five dozen men trying to beat her to death. He watched men limping or holding damaged hands and heard yells of pain, yet all throughout the girl did not move. He realized that the men were injuring themselves against her naked skin and wondered once again what she would be like to touch.

Just then, he heard a new, far louder shout from the centre of the crowd. He tried in vain to see what was happening in there, but his view was blocked by other soldiers. There was a burst of machine gun fire and more yelling and Holt saw some men falling to the ground. He spotted the heads of two soldiers rising slowly above the others as though the owners of the heads were jumping in slow motion. Then the heads fell back into the crowd at normal speed. He thought he saw them continue to descend all the way to the ground amidst the chaos. Another burst of automatic weaponry rung out. Someone was screaming. He could see a lot of bodies on the ground. The yelling stopped abruptly.

"Oh my God!" he said under his breath as the realization of what was happening hit him. "She's killing them all."

The moment had come when the daughter of the last Emperor of Prytkon decided that she had let the males have enough fun. Whilst it had been enjoyable for her to view their pathetic attempts to hurt her with their puny, fragile bodies, she could not allow anyone present to believe that they could attack her with impunity. So she lazily reached out with her two hands, making sure her movements were slow enough for the creatures to follow. Randomly selecting two males, she got a petite hand around each one's neck. Then she lifted them both off the ground, calmly squeezing her slender fingers together as she did, making sure that everyone in the vicinity heard the crunching of bone.

She dropped the two corpses and grabbed another pair of male necks, again lifting and crushing them. She heard a shout from nearby and, letting go of her two most recent victims, reached for the throat of the one who had yelled. Her other hand sought out a further target. By now, the men all around had seen what she was doing. They tried to back away, but could not move as the mass of surrounding soldiers blocked them in. Panic began to rage. One of the men fired his weapon at her. It was just a short burst of pellets. Most of them hit the male she was holding in her left hand, killing him instantly. She immediately released his body.

A few of the little bits of metal hit her in the centre of her face. They bounced from her invulnerable features without leaving a scratch on her, but they still carried enough momentum to imbed themselves in the torsos of a few of the soldiers around her. As more and more of the men fell to earth, the remainder began to run around in a frenzy, desperate to get away from her. She grabbed the necks of two fleeing men, raising them as high as her arms allowed as she slowly squeezed the life from them. This caught the attention of more of the males on the periphery of the crowd. One of them fired his weapon at her.

The pellets ricocheted from her cheek, ploughing into the legs of another man. He collapsed on the ground by her feet, screaming in agony. She raised her bare foot and lowered it gently onto his chest. The screams stopped, but she continued to press slowly down until there was a series of crunching sounds from beneath her pretty sole. Then she took her foot off the male's body. A burst of weapons fire pinged from her upper back. Despite the noise of the firearm, she could hear that there were far fewer males around her now. She could even smell it. She spun around, and saw that the escape path for the soldiers around her had indeed now cleared.

Those on the periphery of the mass that had attacked her had finally learnt that the hand-to-hand aggression was proving fatal - for them, not her. Most were now running towards their colleagues who were still in place, dotted around the wider area. Those nearby were just running away from her. She had clearly won the fight. But her victory was far from complete. She had yet to face the other, larger weapons she could see. She wanted to show that nothing could harm her. And she had to show the men that there could be no escaping her. Ria wanted it well understood that anyone who opposed her would be destroyed.

She glanced about and picked a group of three men who were sprinting side by side towards one of the ground-mounted weapons. An easy jog soon brought her alongside them. Another stride as she was in front of the trio before they had time to react. She stopped running, and lifted her left leg. Pivoting on the ball of her right foot, she straightened her left knee and swung her shapely, long leg across the three men's bellies. The two nearest her were cut in half by her smooth, slender limb. Her leg wasn't quite long enough to bisect the third. Her foot tore a huge chunk of flesh from the side of his midriff and her heel broke off a large piece of his pelvic bone. He, too, was dead before his body collapsed to the ground.

The former princess did not stop to admire her work. She had already chosen her next target. A single male, running about twenty paces from where she now was. She turned to face him, pushing off the ground with her toes to throw herself into a long, flat leap. She didn't even have to use her self-propulsion abilities as her beautiful legs were more than strong enough to launch her at her victim. In flight, she brought her feet up and locked her knees so that she appeared to be sitting on the air. Having judged the jump to perfection, she descended on the soldier, legs slightly spread so that she was resting on his shoulders, her firm, silky thighs lying against his ears.

Ria drew her knees together and heard the wet crunching sound of the man's head disintegrating between her legs. As his decapitated body collapsed beneath her, she leant forward and landed gracefully on her feet, gore now covering the lower part of her body. She spun rapidly on the spot a few hundred times, the air friction generating enough heat to vaporize any traces of blood from her body. Then she studied the scene around her, looking at the males who still hadn't reached the sanctuary of their colleagues. They were so slow and so fragile!

Sergeant Holt felt sick. He'd seen the girl run after three guys, eating up their thirty-yard head-start in seconds before chopping them in half with a graceful, gymnastic kick. He'd closed his eyes when he saw her incredible twenty-five yard leap onto the shoulders of one of the other poor guys. When he'd reopened them, he saw her standing over a headless corpse, smeared in guts. He could only guess what she'd done. Then she'd momentarily become a cylindrical blur, rematerializing suddenly clean. Had she really - as he suspected - spun so fast the blood had evaporated from her? Was there anything she couldn't do? Was there anything they could do to stop her before she killed them all?

The alien was running now towards the centre of the ring of soldiers. Holt couldn't believe the way she only appeared to be jogging at yet moved as fast as a car on an empty freeway. In no time at all she reached the ring of used ammunition. He shuddered as he thought how every one of the countless bits of lead and steel in that two-inch high, four-foot wide circle had struck her body at rocket speed and merely bounced off. She stopped running, not taking a couple of strides to decelerate but just stopping completely still, majestically holding her balance. Then she languidly bent down, giving Holt a magnificent view of her perfect rear.

Her long arm swept downwards and she scooped up a handful of ammo, returning to an upright posture in one fluid movement. Her left hand went to her hip as she raised her other fist - the one containing the used bullets. Uncurling her dainty fingers, she held out her hand, open palm upwards, her wrist almost resting on her chin. She was standing sideways on to the sergeant, so that he could clearly see the pile of lead in her hand and her fabulous profile. Why was she holding the bullets up to her face on her palm like that? She looked as if she was about to blow someone a kiss!

Ria smiled as she thought of all the countless ways she could defeat the creatures of the planet. Her latest idea amused her. Why not use the males' own little pellets - the ones that had proved so useless against her - to destroy them? She formed her generous, sexy lips into a pout, and blew gently and briefly on the ten bits of metal in her hand. Her warm breath lifted the pellets off her palm, pushing them away at many times the speed they had initially traveled at. She watched as their irregular shapes made them move end over end through the air, spreading out along different trajectories that even she could not predict. Six of the bits of metal found no target, but the other four were devastatingly effective.

The rough chunks hit four retreating males in various parts of the backs of their bodies. One man was hit in the back of his head, another between his shoulder blades. A third man took a hit in his rump and the forth was hit in his ribs. The speed and rotation of the missiles caused them to tear rough holes through the cloth, flesh and bones they encountered. The men fell immediately to ground, unaware of the manner of their murder. They never knew that they had been the victims of an indiscriminate kiss of death from the lovely lips of a gorgeous, slim, naked young woman.

Sergeant Holt did see the how the girl killed the four men. How she had pushed out her lips and blown a handful of bullets at them, her lungs powerful enough to propel the slugs so fast that they proved deadly at a range of fifty yards. Many of the other remaining soldiers of Burpford also saw it. They knew then that their enemy had no intention of showing mercy. They had held fire, afraid of accidentally wounding any of their colleagues who were in her vicinity. But they feared now that the girl would murder them all if they couldn't kill her first. They had to hit her with everything they had.

Holt tore his eyes away from the beautiful extraterrestrial murderer and focused them on the mortar launcher beside him. The three men with him turned to look at him, their faces betraying a mixture of fear, anger and uncertainty. As much as for his own benefit as the other men's, the sergeant put his eye to the launcher's sights, turning one of the little handles on the side of the device, ensuring that the girl was adequately targeted. Satisfied that she was he didn't wait for any instructions from his superiors but instead made a final check on the big weapon, and told his men to move clear. Then he triggered the launch.

The heavy shell shot violently into the air and Holt and his colleagues looked up as soon as it was safe to do so, squinting to follow its graceful arc. They hadn't done a bad job of aiming. They watched it coming down close to the target, landing around four yards from the girl's feet. That was certainly close enough to take out a man or even a jeep. The shell exploded noisily in a ball of crimson and yellow flames, throwing a huge volume of dirt into the air to rain down all around. It took quite a few seconds for the smoke and dust to clear. The men held their breath. Holt grabbed his binoculars.

He saw a deep, round crater in the ground where the mortar had landed. The earth that had been displaced was scattered all around. And there, standing by the very edge of the crater, was the girl. She hadn't moved. Even as the huge explosion had torn a hole in the ground and heated the air to incredible temperatures just a few paces from her, she had remained completely still, her left hand resting on her hip, her right arm hanging casually by her side. Her face showed not a trace of surprise or fear. She should have been blown into a million pieces, but there wasn't even a bruise on her lovely skin.

The three men with him turned to look at their sergeant in horror. "We missed." Holt said simply. He knew that this was not strictly true. But, like the others, he was desperately convincing himself that a direct hit would have an effect on the target. The thought that the alien was immune to heavy weaponry was just too frightening to bear. "A couple of yards to the right." he instructed the men. One of them, hands trembling, face pale, made the adjustments. Another man loaded a fresh shell. Then they all hid their heads as Holt activated the firing mechanism.

Ria had heard the first missile being launched and watched its painfully slow approach with curiosity. She had been right about these big tubes; they did fire larger versions of the metal pellets. Her amazing eyes pierced the outer casing of the object that sailed towards her, revealing that its tip was packed with some kind of chemical mix. She guessed that it was some sort of explosive and, reasoning she had nothing to fear from it, decided not to move away from its descent. In the end, the technology proved characteristically poor as the thing landed about five paces from her, detonating with a pathetically small bang.

A few bits of exploding metal clanged against her bare leg. She had to admit that, unlike the thousands of tiny pellets she'd faced before, the chunks of hot, sharp steel that struck her were much less difficult to feel. But they certainly weren't enough to even slightly irritate her. The flames that caressed her naked body weren't particularly hot either. She just ignored the earth that fell down on her, keeping herself rooted to the spot, making sure the males who had hoped to hurt her with their weapon could see that it had had no real effect.

Without turning, she heard the sound of another missile being launched. They were nothing if not persistent, these creatures. Her sensitive ears detected that this second attempt was a deal more accurate than its predecessor. Still she saw no need to react to it. She didn't even bother to look at the lump of metal as it crashed to earth about a stride's length behind her. She was much closer to this explosion. The heat was definitely more intense, although it still wasn't even a fraction of what she had enjoyed amongst the flares of the planet's yellow sun.

Quite a lot of shrapnel hit her this time. Because the thing had landed on the ground behind her, most of it slammed into the lower portion of her rear. The larger pieces almost tickled her. Almost. A portion of the dusty earth beneath her feet was torn away. She didn't want the on-looking soldiers to see her fall into the new crater, so she used her self-propulsion abilities to hold herself exactly where she was as the hole appeared, not even blinking as she went from standing on solid ground to standing on air. Her hand was still on her hip. She used the fingers of her other hand to brush a few strands of hair away from her face. The missile had caused her no other inconvenience.

"A yard to the left." Holt said grimly after it was clear that the second mortar had proved as useless as the first. His voice betrayed his growing belief that he and his men were just going through the motions. The alien appeared utterly indestructible. He saw the way she remained unmoving even as the ground was blown away from under her, just hovering over the new hole in the dirt. Maybe their best hope would be surrender. But she hadn't shown much mercy so far. He remembered the three men he'd seen her cut in half with her shapely leg. "Ready?" he asked.

He was just about to fire once more when he heard the familiar whooshing sound of another mortar being launched somewhere to his right. A half-second later he heard the same sound again, this time on the other side, much further away. He understood at once what was happening. The other mortar crews had reached the same conclusion he had. There was no point holding fire, no point waiting for a command. Holt felt a surge of renewed hope. Perhaps if they all fired together - if they could all find the range and hit the alien with a dozen shells at once... Surely, nothing could withstand that. Not even a stunningly attractive extraterrestrial teenage girl.

Mortars were being launched all around. Holt fired his, too. A moment later, the area were the girl was standing became an impenetrable inferno. Detonation after detonation rocked the base as the air filled with huge clouds of dust and the smell of burning. Earth rained down over the men, making them duck down and put their arms over their heads for protection. It became impossible to see where one fireball stopped and the next one started. Even at the supposedly safe distance of the launchers, the heat was uncomfortable. The noise, meanwhile, was deafening.

Holt couldn't see a thing. The target area was completely obscured by fire, earth and dust and the racket all around only served to add to his disorientation. Each time, as soon as he and his men had launched a mortar, they loaded and fired another. The other crews were doing the same thing. They couldn't judge the accuracy of their missiles, but the general consensus of the moment seemed to be quantity over quality. He glanced at the field of hell that had been the area of dusty ground where he'd last seen the alien girl standing. There was no way, no possible chance, that anything could survive in there.

Ria was bored. The novelty of these new weapons had worn off after the forth or fifth explosion. Even when three or more of them hit at the same time, the effect was not significantly greater than just one. The large bits of broken steel that slammed against all parts of her body, bending and breaking against her flawless skin no longer entertained her. They just felt like a series of dull taps to her. The heat around her grew and grew, but it to her, it was just pleasantly warm. At the same time, she found it ridiculously easy to tune out the constant noise and smell.

The earth beneath her was repeatedly thrown into the air, so she just hovered, her feet still level with where the ground had been. She let her hair fall across her eyes and paid no attention to the dirt and debris piling up on her shoulders and the top of her head. The air was so full of dust that it had long since become unbreathable so she stopped respiring. She didn't need to breathe; it was just a matter of habit. All the while her eyes remained wide open. The heat, the shards of metal, lumps of earth and specks of dust that hit her irises did not bother her in the slightest.

Every now and then, the soldiers scored a direct hit and a missile would fall directly onto the crown of her head. Those impacts felt to the Prytkonian much like light rain had felt on her home planet. When the things exploded on top of her head, the more intense heat and force was barely detectable to her. The big bits of steel bouncing from her skull were no more or less painful that those that bounced off her rear or her stomach or her face or her breasts. She felt them, but they didn't hurt. To her, the most significant thing about a missile hitting her head was that the blast blew the fallen dirt off her hair and her shoulders...

But enough was enough. These males just didn't seem to understand when to stop. She would have to make them cease. She heard another missile approaching and, for the first time since the barrage had begun, she moved her head to look at it. She had long since figured out that they only exploded once they hit something hard like the ground or something harder, like her. It was easy to stop the latest one detonating. Following its descent, she raised her hands, resting her palms gently on either side of it as it came within reach and brining it to a short, but not overly abrupt, halt.

She transferred her grip so that she was holding the missile balanced on the palm of her right hand. Then she drew her arm back and, almost disinterestedly, tossed the thing back where it had come from. Her bright eyes had no trouble penetrating the fire and smoke and dust all around her as she watched the missile making its return journey. It had been fired at her by a machine. She sent it back by hand far faster and more accurately. Satisfied, she saw it plough directly into the device that had first launched it, the resulting explosion tearing the four males clustered around it into pieces.

She enjoyed the sight of the single missile instantly destroying a quartet of men after so many of them had failed to scratch her. The reminder of her immeasurable superiority over the creatures all around her dispelled her sense of boredom. She caught another incoming rocket and chucked it at another of the launching machines, with identical results. She was smiling now as she floated over the enormous crater beneath her feet to trap a third missile between her petite, feminine palms. She was about to throw it at one of the remaining groups of men, when she stopped herself. She'd had a better idea.

Even though they were crouching low at the time, Sergeant Holt and his men were knocked sideways by the unexpected blast just twenty yards to their right. As he rolled over, he was covered in a blanket of falling earth. Recovering his bearings, he looked over in the direction of the surprise explosion. Where a few moments before there had been another missile launcher and a crew of four men, there was now nothing but a smoking crater in the ground. Some distance away, he spotted what looked like a piece of one of those men.

His first thought was that something had gone wrong with the launcher and that a mortar had exploded inside it. Or perhaps one of the other crews had fired off a grossly inaccurate shot. When a second machine and its men blew up a few moments later, he began to rethink his initial assessment. It didn't seem to make sense that a dozen launchers had managed a hundred or more hits on one small area before there had suddenly been two inaccurate strikes - both of them precisely hitting launch posts. He looked at the ongoing mass of explosions centred around where he'd last seen the alien girl. It couldn't be possible. It just couldn't...

But it was. A few seconds later, Holt saw her. She was flying, her legs clear of the top of the highest fireball. He grabbed his lenses. His heart sank as he realized that she hadn't been at all hurt in the incredible firestorm. There wasn't a single mark anywhere on her perfect body. She was holding something in her hands. It took him a few moments to realize what it was. An unexploded mortar! Now he knew what had happened to the two crews; they had been hit, but not by accident. Somehow, the alien had captured the mortars before they could detonate and then sent them - thrown them? - with incredible accuracy at the launchers.

Holt watched as the girl flew slowly upwards over the raging explosions beneath her. Soon the other crews had spotted her too. The barrage of missiles stopped dramatically, the comparative silence a chilling reflection of the overall mood of horror and disillusion as the men tried to come to terms with their failure. A few began running towards the perimeter of the base. Others threw down their weapons and raised their hands in surrender. The only sound was the rumbling of the four tank engines. The alien merely hovered above them as the dust and smoke cleared.

It was a remarkable sight. Where the girl had been standing there was now practically nothing. Burpford Army Base now boasted an irregular crater to rival those on the moon. Holt guessed it had to be sixty yards across and twenty yards deep, surrounded by a yard high ridge of earth. It looked as if a meteorite had crashed. The sheer scale of the devastation was a witness to the vast amount of explosives that had been directed at that one spot. And yet, the alien had been there throughout. And she was still alive. Alive and unhurt. Sergeant Holt removed the strap on his gun and tossed it onto the ground in front of him. What more could he or his men do?

Meanwhile, the girl from Prytkon descended lightly to the ground to stand before an astonished and terrified group of four males. Smiling, she showed them the cylindrical metal object in her hands. One of them immediately passed out. "This came from you." she said, matter-of-factly. "I do not want. Take." Before the shocked men could reply, she squeezed her hands gently together, feeling the steel deform between her palms. Inevitably, the missile exploded. She was much nearer to it, and most of the shrapnel hit her arms and the front of her body, but only she survived the first instants of the blast. The four men were torn to shreds while she, totally unaffected, merely brushed a rogue strand of hair from her stunning face.

What now? She had landed next to one of the remaining mortar crews and detonated the shell she was holding, killing the men. Holt stared still in shock at the way she was left totally unharmed by the explosion. He watched as she rose into the air once more. Any man not already running at that moment took to his heels. A few tried to bury themselves beneath the various piles of debris scattered around the scarred base. A couple even sought refuge in the destroyed Command Center building. Holt, like the majority, made for the edge of the base. He was convinced that getting the hell out of there was his only true hope of survival.

As he ran, he passed near one of the base's four tanks. He wondered why the tank crews, who had remained so inactive throughout, were still not abandoning their vehicles. Their engines had been running the whole time, yet the big war machines had not moved at all during the enormous, but futile mortar barrage. Why hadn't their added their armor-piercing cannon to the onslaught? It seemed strange. What he had seen told him that the depleted uranium shells wouldn't have made a difference, but he couldn't understand why they hadn't tried. And why now they didn't seem to want to either fight or run.

There were no such questions for the three-man crews in each of the four tanks. Throughout the battle, they had been in direct radio contact with the most important people in the country. By chance, the vehicles were equipped with the latest communications technology, including discreet, but powerful cameras. These were sending live pictures of the carnage via satellite to the capital. The crews were under strict orders not to participate in the fighting or to draw attention to themselves; the top brass wanted the video link to stay unbroken for as long as possible. The Chiefs of Staff wanted to judge for themselves the scale of the threat posed by the alien.

The men in the tanks were soldiers, not camera operators, but they had received some training in using the equipment. The location of the four vehicles - one towards each corner of the base - meant that the quartet of images they relayed from Burpford gave a comprehensive picture of what was happening. It did not make for comfortable viewing in the President's private office - either for the besuited political men and women or the uniformed military men. They'd watched the unfolding drama with a growing sense of dread. Rarely had such powerful people felt so powerless. It had been a long, long time since anyone in the room had spoken.

Back at Burpford, Sergeant Holt had almost made it to the perimeter fence. Ahead of him he saw a group of three men working furiously at the wire mesh, trying to open a hole so they could flee beyond the base into the empty desert. He headed for them, praying that they would succeed in cutting through the fence in time. He was only a few dozen yards away when he noticed a peculiar shadow moving along the ground. It seemed to come from behind and pass ahead of him, yet no-one was running alongside him. Terrified, he looked up. He was just in time to see the alien girl descending towards the trio at the fence. Panicking, he turned of his heels and headed back towards the heart of the base.

It suited Ria's plans that some of the males should survive the battle; they would spread the news of her power and invincibility. But she could not allow too many of them to escape without compromising her position of total control. So she set about the task of picking off the men who were running towards the thin barrier that encircled the area. It wasn't difficult; the creatures moved so slowly that she was able to leisurely float from one side of Burpford to the other, taking her time, even enjoying herself as she reveled in the incredible abilities that gave her such overwhelming dominance over the men.

She swooped down over individual males as they ran, sometimes just holding out her slender arm as she flew past them to slice right through their fragile bodies. Others she grabbed by their clothes, picking them off the ground with just a couple of fingers, carrying them into the air and then simply letting them fall to the hard ground. A few times, she descended to the dirt herself, landing right in the path of a fleeing man, laughing as he clattered into her invulnerable body and fell. Then she would dispatch him with a deadly kick from one of her dainty bare feet, her toes lifting the poor creatures off the ground even as they crushed vital organs.

Now she descended behind three soldiers desperately trying to force their way through the thin wire that surrounded Burpford. She couldn't believe how weak they were - three of them struggling to break a bit of metal that was only as thick as a few strands of her long, dark brown hair. And they were so engrossed in the task they didn't even notice her landing gracefully just few paces behind them. One of them was working by himself, whilst the other two toiled side by side, their heads almost touching. She strode up to them, raising her arms and positioning her left hand near the left ear of one of them and her right hand by the other's right ear.

There was a dull thud as she slammed the two men's heads together. As they collapsed, blood pouring from the two cracked skulls, the third member of the group turned around, startled by the noise. Ria smiled at him. He backed away from her, trembling in terror. She took a calm, fluid forward stride for each awkward, clumsy reverse step he made, keeping the distance between them constant. Inevitably as he was unable to see where he was going, he tripped on the rough ground and fell backwards to land on his rear. She stopped walking and put her hands on her hips, towering over him as he sat helplessly and looked up at her, his eyes full of fear.

"Don't kill me." he implored.

"You do not give instructions." she answered. She thought that the events of the last half-hour had made that quite clear. She lifted her long right leg and swung it casually at his head, her dainty feminine toes catching him under the chin. His body remained on the ground. His head sailed over the wire barrier and off into the distance. She showed no reaction to his death as she turned to choose her next target. Her eyes lighted on a lone soldier who was running, in direct contrast to the other few remaining men, towards the centre of Burpford.

Sergeant Holt ran, not knowing where he was headed. He'd tried to get off the base, but the alien girl had appeared near the fence just as he got there. There'd been three men where she'd come to ground. He hadn't waited to see what happened to them. He felt that he already knew anyway. He'd just run in the opposite direction, his fear providing the adrenaline that kept him moving despite his exhaustion. In the back of mind, he knew that if she decided to come after him he wouldn't stand a chance. He'd long since dropped his weapon, but it would have offered him little comfort anyway. His main hope was that she would be distracted for long enough to allow him to get away.

A breeze blew from behind him, momentarily cooling his heavily perspiring body, but he paid it no mind as he continued to sprint, his head bowed as he watched the dusty ground passing beneath his feet. His heart thumped in his chest and his breathing was rasping and heavy, but he dared not stop for even a second. He just kept on running, running, running.

"Why do you run?" The innocent sounding question, posed in a melodic feminine voice shocked him to the core. He almost fell over as he turned to his right to see its source. The blood instantly drained from his face. There, jogging alongside him, was the extraterrestrial. Despite his obvious terror, he couldn't help noticing that she looked even more beautiful than ever so close up. She was keeping pace with him, but she looked as though the fast speed was effortless. She wasn't panting as he was. In fact it seemed as if she wasn't even breathing. She certainly wasn't sweating. Her flawless, silky skin showed not a trace of shine. She was smiling, a dazzling, incredibly attractive smile that contrasted dramatically with Holt's fear-filled features.

She seemed to detect something in the way he was looking at her. "You think my body is good." she declared. "You want to touch. Why do you run?"

Thrown into confusion by the girl's unexpected line of questioning, Holt stopped running. He bent over almost double, puffing furiously to catch his breath. His heart felt as though it would explode through his ribs. There was something in the naive, sexy way she spoke that made him temporarily marginalize his terror. She leant in towards him, stretching out her slender arm and extending her dainty forefinger. She placed it under his chin, slowly lifting his head until his back was nearly straight once more.

"You do not like girls?" she inquired, her grin taking on a mischievous quality. Still panting, he lacked both air and the ability to think - two ingredients required to formulate an answer. The alien didn't seem to mind. Unhastily, she rose a few feet into the air, her finger unmoving under his chin, holding his head in place. She stopped rising and hovered perfectly still when her pretty feet were about twenty inches above the dirt. Her knees were level with his waist and her belly with his chest. Her magnificent, impossibly firm round breasts stood proud right in front of his rapidly widening eyes, filling his vision with their erotic perfection. He felt himself responding to the sight.

"I do not understand." the girl said, her voice heavy with mock innocence and feigned ignorance. "I see you like my body. But you run from me. Why?" Holt hadn't yet recovered from his exertions and the proximity of the alien's remarkable chest was doing nothing to help him regain control of his breathing and his thumping heart. Not to mention the ever present fear that came with being in the presence of an unopposable cold-blooded killer.

"I.. I.." he stammered between breaths. The girl lifted the finger under his chin, tilting his head painfully back so that his eyes looked into hers. To relieve the stretched muscles in his neck he fought desperately to lower his head but nothing he tried had the slightest effect on the slim young girl's dainty finger.

Staring straight into his eyes, she persisted with her questioning. "Why do you run from me?"

Holt was lost in his inner turmoil. Surely she knew the answer. Why was she so insistent that he told her? And why, when he had seen for himself moments before that she hardly needed to breathe, did she exhale so deeply into his face when she spoke to him, letting her perfumed, hot breath fill his senses like a strong desert wind? Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew what she was doing. She was playing with him. Teasing him. Toying like a cat with a trapped mouse.

She pushed his head even further back, the pain making his eyes water. "Why do you run?" she asked, her voice now containing an insistent tone that demanded an answer.

His neck hurt too badly for him to resist. "I.. I was scared."

She laughed, her delicious breath blasting his face once again whilst her big breasts, so close to his chin, shook almost imperceptively. "You are a soldier. I am a girl. You are scared! Why?"

"You.. killed.. the.. others." he replied, truthfully. He spoke through gritted teeth, his neck muscles feeling as if they would tear at any second.

Smiling reassuringly, as though explaining something mundane to a small child, the girl said "You are a soldier. You must not be scared by killing."

"Please... don't..."

She took her finger away from his chin, letting his head fall forward. Once again, her wonderful chest blocked all other sights from his view. His neck still ached, but the relief was enormous. He felt her laying her long, slender arms on his shoulders. She bent her head so that her lips almost brushed the top of his head, and breathed as though talking to a lover: "You do not give instructions."

Holt moved to look up at her quizzically, but before he could raise his head, she floated suddenly closer to him so that her large pink nipples brushed his cheeks. The intimate contact made him shudder. He almost didn't notice her arms on his shoulders drawing him towards her. By the time he realized what she was doing, his face was buried in her lovely warm cleavage. For a few seconds, the sensation of her big soft breasts against his cheeks and the delicious smell of her fabulous flesh completely occupied his mind and made him forget his fears. He felt the familiar tightening in his groin that normally preceded an orgasm.

She continued to push him against her. Quickly, her chest stopped being soft, as though her stunning breasts were made of steel covered in a thick layer of silk. His head became painfully squeezed between the two big mounds, like he'd got it stuck in a closing bank vault door. He put his hands on her flat stomach and tried to push himself away from her, but found that his efforts were utterly futile. "Please!" he pleaded, his words muffled by her chest, his exhalation trapped in the tiny space between his lips and her sternum, picking up her fantastically sexy scent and carrying back to his nostrils.

"You do not give instructions." she repeated, calmly, as she forced his head deeper into the beautiful but deadly valley between her round breasts.

The pain took on a new, unbearable quality as he felt his cheekbones cracking under the phenomenal pressure exerted by her womanly flesh. He pounded on her belly, only to stop as fresh agony - this time in his bruised fists - filled his mind. His nose pressed painfully against her. Suddenly, he realized that he couldn't breathe anymore. The sound of his thumping heartbeat grew in his burning ears until it deafened him. He knew he was powerless to do anything. He was being crushed. He was being suffocated. Slowly his vision faded to black. He was dying with his face jammed between a teenage girl's big, perfect breasts. His orgasm had just started when his heart finally stopped.

Ria dug her fingers into the back of the dead soldier's neck and pulled his head roughly out of her cleavage. A casual flick of her delicate-looking wrist sent the corpse flying in an arc to land on top of the body she'd decapitated at the very edge of Burpford. She didn't stop to admire the accuracy of her throw, however. She'd already moved on by the time her latest victim crashed down to the ground. Something else had attracted her attention. Effortlessly, she soared skyward, turning in the air to steer herself towards the ruins of the big building at the centre of Burpford where she had initially discovered the commander.

There were four males cowering in one of the subterranean chambers of the half-destroyed edifice. She'd spotted a couple of them running in that direction when she'd been flying after some other targets earlier. Later she'd seen the quartet as she glanced around the base, her remarkable eyes penetrating the intervening ground, concrete and steel as though they were transparent. In addition, she had heard their breathing and their whispered conversation whilst she was finishing off her most recent prey. As she listened to the four men talking, she gathered that they believed they were safe in their underground hiding place.

The girl from Prytkon reasoned that uncovering these men and dealing with them publicly would be an extremely effective method of showing the other survivors how futile it was to hide from her. It would serve as another excellent demonstration of the scale of her power. She dived through the shattered roof of the building. As she had already carved much of the path to the little room in which the men were hiding, she only had to smash through one concrete and steel wall to reach them. She didn't even slow down as her head slammed into the partition, crumbling the concrete to dust and deforming the steel beyond recognition.

Wasting no time with any more games, she swooped down on the four males, grabbing them by the straps of material they wore around their waists. Ignoring the pathetic attempts that the men made to hit her or flee from her, she got a firm hold of two of them with either hand, enjoying the way the big males' bodies, arms and legs hung so helplessly from her petite hands as she floated back into the air and through the damaged roof. Hovering in plain view over the centre of Burpford, she opened her fingers, letting all four men fall the height of the battered building onto the dusty ground beside it. The impacts far exceeded what their fragile male bodies could withstand.

Her keen and incredibly fast senses detected only a handful of soldiers remaining in the area. There were a few isolated individuals supposedly hiding amongst the ruins, including the one she'd left crying on his knees inside the big building before she had grabbed the commander, and a few more running away on the other side of the thin wire wall around Burpford. She decided to leave these males to serve as witnesses to her unopposable power. What intrigued her now were the three men in each of the four large square-shaped vehicles with the long cylinders mounted on top.

She'd glanced at them from time to time as she had been picking off the other men. She'd noticed them communicating occasionally, perhaps with some superior authority. She was curious to know why they had not been involved with the aggression against her, even when it had become clear that her intentions towards the whole of Burpford were deadly. And why had they not tried to flee as most of the others had done - especially considering the fact that she had already seen the big metal boxes acting as vehicles - primitively slow though they may have been. She decided that the best way to find out would be to ask the men inside one of the devices.

The word from the President and the Chief of Staff was still to hold off. The tank crews were told that the video link that let the top brass watch the action live from Burpford was of supreme national importance, and nothing should jeopardize it. That meant that the men in the armored vehicles were forbidden from intervening to save the lives of their colleagues as the alien methodically butchered them. It was made quite clear; under no circumstances were they allowed to draw any attention. So they had operated the cameras and waited for further instructions whilst the massacre unfolded yards away from them.

Most of the men in the tanks could not understand why, given the ineffectiveness of machine gun fire and mortar shells against the extraterrestrial, they had been ordered not to use their armor-piercing shells. It seemed as if the guys in the capital were heartlessly putting the relayed video pictures before the lives of countless men. But when the alien began killing even those soldiers who they thought were safely hidden, quite a few were secretly grateful to have been kept forcibly out of the fighting, remaining untouched inside the tanks.

They consoled themselves with the thought that maybe the lives of countless others beyond Burpford depended on the Chiefs being able to analyze the pictures they were sending. But now that just about all the men were dead, they couldn't fathom why they were being told not to move or fire. Surely, the intention could not be to just let the alien leave the scene without even testing her apparent invulnerability with their depleted uranium cannon-shells? And what if they did, finally, come under attack? Would they be permitted to defend themselves?

A couple of hundred miles away, those very questions were under discussion in the President's office. Every one of the many pairs of eyes in the room were glued to the bank of four large television screens set into one wall. Each screen relayed the view captured by the camera in each of the tanks stationed around Burpford Army Base. At that moment all four screens were showing the alien. From four different angles her naked perfection was displayed on the wall, her feet clearly visible hovering several yards above the cratered, body-littered ground. Her unworldly beauty was not sufficiently distorted by the electronic processes to be lost on the men in the room. Many of them sat cross-legged.

"I say we pound her with the cannon before it's too late." a grey-haired man in military uniform declared, without turning away from the televisions. His gaze was particularly fixed on the screen showing the alien's rear and there was something about the way he used the word "pound" that wasn't entirely military.

"I'm afraid the tank-shells will prove as ineffective as the other weaponry. I'm not sure we can justify sending the crews to their deaths and loosing our video-link." came the considered reply from the head of state.

"Sir, those shells are coated in depleted uranium. They can pierce just about any armor on Earth. A sustained barrage may well provide us with the solution to this problem."

"General, I find your faith in the army's equipment reassuring. But the problem you refer to does not originate on Earth. It may require a less direct approach."

"With all due respect, sir, I feel we should use the tank shells while we have this opportunity. It may be too late soon. We will lose visual contact as soon as the alien flies off. What if she heads for a town or a city? What if she comes here?"

"I fear that it is a foregone conclusion that she will be coming here sooner or later if she is not stopped. I'm hoping that by observing her as long as possible we might discover some weakness, some -" The President's words were stopped short by the scene displayed on the top left screen. The alien girl had suddenly and incredibly quickly floated towards the camera relaying the image. The operator responsible for capturing the picture took a few seconds to adjust his equipment. When he was done, the screen was almost completely filled with the most stunningly attractive full frontal female nude anyone in the White House that day had ever seen.

"Oh my God..." said the Chief of Staff.

Inside the tank, the crew of three watched through the camera display in a mixture of fear, wonder and arousal as the alien girl streaked towards them, remaining vertical with her feet never touching the ground. They saw her beautiful bright brown eyes narrowing slightly as she stared at the outside of their vehicle. It felt almost as if she was looking directly at them. But there was two inches of steel and armor between her and them. She couldn't see them. Surely that was impossible. She smiled. A lovely, sexy smile. With an undeniable hint of maliciousness. Then, the saw her long, slender arm stretching out towards the front of the machine, out of range of their camera.

The girl was leaning her body forwards. Although they could no longer see her hand or her forearm, they were too occupied with the view on their screen to be overly concerned. All three men in the tank were staring, fixated by the sight of the firmest breasts on Earth. They dominated the display that showed their generous, round shape to perfection as the alien's stance caused them to be thrust defiantly at the salivating crew. The bright grin was still in place, illuminating her stunning features, but none of the men even noticed. Her chest was a magnet that threatened to pull their eyes out of their sockets.

At that moment, the interior of the tank was filled with a loud creaking sound that increased in volume and pitch until it became closer to a scream. The origin of the sound was at the front of the vehicle and the men tore their gazes from the camera screen to try and identify its source. They were just in time to see five small indents appearing in the outer casing, as though bubbles were forming in the thick steel. The indents grew with the noise until, to the immense shock of the crew, the metal ruptured with a tortured shriek. Five holes had been punctured in the tank's armor. Each of them was filled by what looked for all the world to be a dainty feminine fingertip.

A second later, that first appearance was confirmed as another inch of finger poked through each hole. Somehow, the girl had thrust her digits through the two-inch thick armored steel as if it was plasticine. The men watched horrified as the fingers slowly closed together, the metal screaming and yielding to her dainty hand as she tore through it until she had formed a fist, a big chunk of deformed steel imprisoned in her hand. There was now a single six-inch diameter tear in the front of the tank. The girl withdrew her hand, slightly widening the aperture as her knuckles brushed against its edge.

Through the new, improvised "window" the crew could briefly see the girl's flawless flat belly, her inviting navel and the sexy curve of her right hip. Then the view was blocked once more by her advancing hands. With the backs of her hands almost touching one another, she hooked her slender fingers around the edges of the hole. The men knew what she was about to do, but their minds refused to accept that it was possible - even though everything they had witnessed that day told them otherwise.

"Oh fuck..." one of them muttered.

Ria recognized the expletive and her smile grew even wider. She could already smell the fear of the males inside the metal box. Reveling in her power, she pulled her hands apart, enjoying the protesting screech of the thick metal, knowing it stood no chance against her slender arms. She moved slowly, taking time to enjoy the destruction and to increase the soldiers' terror. The steel crumpled and folded up against her palms as she widened the opening in the metal box until she had torn a slit as tall as her hand-span and twice as wide as her hips. Inside the vehicle, the males were trembling. She almost laughed. They were so helpless.

She removed her hands, only to replace them, this time at the top and bottom of the aperture. She was quicker now, ripping the metal open with casual ease, forcing the screaming material apart so that it wadded up against her feminine palms until both her smile and her sex were exposed to the quivering men within.

"Hello." she greeted them. There was no reply, save the sweating and the palpitations of frightened males. The girl from Prytkon knew her command of the situation was complete. She indulged her curiosity: "What is the purpose of this machine?" Again, no answer. The smile vanished and her lips and eyes became severe. "You." she said, sternly, turning to look directly at the male seated closest to her. "What is the purpose of this machine?" The young man's eyes grew wide. His lips moved but no sound left his mouth. She flashed out her hand, her fingernails slicing through the straps of material that were holding him into his seat before he even noticed what she was doing.

Having freed the male from his harness, she reached in and curled her fingers around his scrawny neck, being careful not to crush his throat. Then she pulled, lifting him through the hole she'd torn in the vehicle, his large frame dangling helplessly from her petite feminine hand. She floated a little into the air and brought his face right up to hers so that their noses were almost touching. His heels hung well above the ground. He swung them aggressively, crashing the thick, heavy garments he wore on his feet against her bare shins a couple of times until he cried in pain and stopped, his well-protected toes obviously injured. Ria, of course, had hardly felt his efforts.

She let him pound his fists a few times against her full, round breasts until that too proved too painful for him. Still holding him with a single hand on his throat, keeping his face so close so hers, she spoke, putting more into it than necessary, making sure her breath blasted his features. "Tell me what is the purpose of the machine."

"It... it's a tank." the male gasped, struggling to draw enough air into or out of his lungs with her slender fingers restricting his windpipe. She shook his body, as gently as she could. He screamed as his limbs flew wildly about him.

"You tell me the purpose, not the name!"

"It's...a...vehicle.." he struggled.

"A fighting vehicle?"

"Yes."

"Why you don't fight?"

"What?" she shook him again, making him yell in panic. The two other males inside the fighting vehicle stared, frozen in terror.

"Why you don't use fighting vehicle? Tell me!"

"Er... we have orders... to film you..."

"What is 'film'?"

"To send pictures... Look." he strained as he pointed behind himself to the flickering panel inside the machine. The technology was extremely primitive, but she recognized the principle. They were relaying pictures of her, presumably to some superior at another location. No wonder they hadn't engaged in the battle; they didn't want their "filming" disturbed.

"Where you send the pictures?" The male was silent once more. A gentle shake, accompanied by the usual scream helped him recover the power of speech.

"I... I.. can't... tell you."

"Then you die." She closed her fingers. There was a loud crunch. The male's eyes bulged and a trickle of blood emerged from the corner of his mouth. She dropped the corpse at her feet and turned to the two men still inside the vehicle.

"Where you send the pictures?" she asked them

"To the President." they answered in union, without hesitation. She smiled.

"The president has seen all?" she enquired. The men nodded.

"The other fighting vehicles -" she indicated the three intact tanks with a sweep of her hand - "- they also send pictures to the President?" More nodding.

"Where is the machine for seeing?" Two hands pointed at a small cylindrical device mounted on the top of the vehicle. The hands moved pathetically slowly to Ria, but she knew the males were moving as fast as they could, plainly terrified of displeasing her. She floated towards the mechanical eye, staring straight into the glass disc at the front of it.

"Hello president." she beamed. "You see the soldiers of Burpford? I am commander of all. I kill all who fight me. I give you instructions soon."

In his richly appointed office in the capital, the man the alien girl had greeted swallowed hard. Her beautiful face filled one of the four screens in front of him. The three other displays showed long-range zoomed views of her floating in front of a tank. The three foot by five foot jagged hole she'd torn in the armor with her bare hands was clearly visible.

"I've seen enough." the President said. "General, it's time to see what your cannon-shells can do. Nobody is going to be giving me instructions."

"Yes, sir!" the General replied, reaching for the telephone to pass the order on to the men at Burpford.

The two men in the damaged tank heard the General's order over their communicator. They could tell from the alien girl's face that she had heard it too, despite the fact that the words were relayed only in their earpieces. Even her hearing was vastly superior. No sooner had the command finished than she addressed them: "I kill all who fight me." There was no time to formulate a response. The girl's long, shapely, slender leg flashed out and the bridge of her bare foot connected with the underside of the tank. The clang of the impact was deafening. The force of it lifted the front of the vehicle skywards so rapidly that the jolt rattled the soldiers' brains inside their skulls.

They were dead even before the momentum of the alien's kick had raised their tank to a temporarily vertical position. Gravity carried it over to complete its arc. The ground shuddered as it came down on its roof, lifting a huge cloud of dust. There was a loud creaking sound as the cannon, not designed to support the entire weight of the armored machine, snapped free of its mounting. The huge machine resettled with a thud. Inside, the men were belted in. Their corpses "sat" upside down within their metal tomb, arms swinging as they hung like fruit from the branches of a tree.

Ria grinned, satisfied with the effects of her gentle punt. She heard a boom behind her and whirled around in time to see a flash of light emerging from the end of the long cylinder of the most distant of the three remaining fighting vehicles or "tanks" as the natives called them. A large, long, round metal object emerged from the flames and smoke. Just as she had thought, the tubes on the top of the vehicles were weapons. The thing that was flying towards her looked much bigger than the ones she had laughed off moments before. She took a quick side-step to align her body with it, hoping to put on a show for the watching President.

It didn't actually hurt her, but she was aware of being struck far harder than she had been since she had first arrived on the planet. There was clearly something special about the tip of the object - something far denser than any of the other projectiles that had collided with her invulnerable body. She stretched time to watch it crumple against her flat, subtly-muscled stomach and noticed that it yielded much less than the others had done. As she wondered what the thing was made of, it exploded, showering her body with sharp fragments of metal. A few large chunks smacked into the underside of her breasts, only slightly dimpling her soft feminine flesh before bouncing down to the ground.

The explosion disappointed her. Having felt the hardness of the projectile's casing caressing her body and realizing that she had been hit with something special, she expected it to detonate with much more force. Instead, the blast was not particularly stronger than the dozens she had already experienced. It was warm for a few instants, but nothing more. Another boom reached her ears, this time from another of the tanks. She put her hands defiantly on her shapely hips and turned to face the latest oncoming missile. It looked identical to the previous one. This time, she was ready for the slightly harder impact. It hit her left thigh. She didn't even blink.

Even as she was being showered in harmless shrapnel from this latest assault, the third surviving tank fired its weapon. She heard the approaching projectile behind her but decided not to rotate towards it. The puny things were not even worth her moving either to avoid or to intercept them. She let it slam uselessly into her pert left buttock, her hands remaining on her hips. The subsequent explosion blew a couple of strands of her long straight hair over one eye, but caused her no other inconvenience. She couldn't believe the creatures had held these weapons in reserve.

The three tank crews knew that they didn't need to report the failure of their armor-piercing cannon. The men in the capital could see it for themselves via the video-links. They were also aware that they did not need to wait for further orders. There were only two things they could do: continue the assault in the vague hope that a continuous barrage would finally weaken the alien or get the hell out of there. There was no doubt amongst them that the unbelievable girl would sooner or later seek to punish them for attacking her. The instruction from the capital was "Keep firing!" As one, the nine men in the tanks decided to disobey.

In the President's office, the assembled men and women had sat in grim silence as three direct hits from the much-vaunted depleted uranium shells had failed to even scratch the alien's lovely skin. The General had commanded the tank crews to shoot again, but it was clear from the pictures being relayed from Burpford that the soldiers on the ground were now rebelling and had taken it upon themselves to make a run for it. They could see the base's perimeter fence looming ever nearer on each of the three remaining active screens. There was no sign of the girl. The camera operators had clearly also given up tracking her. Their viewers were directed solely at whatever was in front of their vehicles.

The President wondered where the alien was at that instant. For a moment, he froze with apprehension at the thought that she might already be in flight on her way to him to "give him instructions". He shuddered at the idea both of the possible nature of those instructions and of what this incredible, invulnerable, invincible extraterrestrial might do if her demands were not met. And then she appeared. As if from nowhere. Right in the path of one of the speeding tanks at Burpford. It just didn't seem real, but there it was on the screen in his office. This threat, this unstoppable being of incalculable power and savage cruelty. A stunningly beautiful, naked young woman.

He stared at the shaky image relayed from the moving vehicle. This was the sum of his fears. A girl. His eyes scanned her. Eyes, lips, neck, breasts, navel, crotch, hips, legs, crotch, breasts, crotch, breasts. A gorgeous, sexy girl. And yet, he knew, an evil god. He saw the image rapidly filling the display, unable to tear his gaze away, praying that the onrushing tank would knock her down, terrified it wouldn't.

"Oh my God!" screamed the tank navigator. "She's right in front of us! Go left! Go left! Go-"

"No!" interrupted his commander from the seat immediately behind. "Keep going! Smash her down!"

"But, we can't - she's too-"

"Knock her down! That's an order!"

The frantic conversation taking place inside the primitive war machine almost made Ria laugh. She wasn't sure if the male determined to steer the thing into her was stupid or merely stubborn. She repressed the urge to laugh out loud, choosing instead to locate the little circular aperture on the top of the vehicle that she knew was capturing her image. Knowing that her audience included both the males inside the "tank" and the one they called "president", she stared directly into the little tubular device and winked seductively. Then she let her rich lips curl back a little to reveal a mischievous grin.

The long, weapon-firing cylinder mounted on the roof of the vehicle passed directly over her head as the tank bore down on her. Her long arms hung idly by her sides and she didn't flinch as the front panel came forward to meet her. She merely employed a tiny proportion of her self-propulsion abilities to root herself to the spot and waited. To her, it seemed an eon passed as the lumbering machine closed the two paces' gap between itself and her body but she knew that for the males inside, the wait lasted only a couple of heartbeats. So slow. So weak.

The front of the tank was sloped, so that the contact was against her bare knees. There was an almighty clang as the thick, armored steel smacked against her far harder flesh-covered bones. Ria's vision pierced the vehicle's casing to watch the way the three men were violently pitched forward as they hit her. Only the wide straps across their bodies kept them from being thrown against the interior front panel. The metal deformed a little around her knees, absorbing the shock of the impact as she remained motionless. The huge propulsion bands at the sides of the machine continued to move, picking up massive clouds of dust from the ground and making the entire tank shake. But it did not move forward.

"Oh shit." The tank commander's simple expletive reflected the helplessness of his situation. They hadn't run the girl over. They'd crashed into her alright, but she hadn't been budged even a millimeter. She was standing quite still, only her slender legs holding the massive war machine in place. The engines worked furiously, the treads clawed desperately at the ground for friction, but it wasn't enough. Quite simply, the alien's shapely knees were stronger. Much stronger. The commander glanced up at the video screen which showed her stunning features. There was no trace of strain, or even mild discomfort. In fact, she was smiling. The effort of stopping a speeding tank hadn't even registered on her face.

The whining of the defeated engines increased for a few seconds until with a bang they surrendered to the young woman who had so easily conquered them. The ensuing silence was terrifying. The tank commander looked up at the screen to his left. The extraterrestrial's lovely visage still dominated the image. With terror, he realized that he and his men were now completely at her mercy. Then the face dipped out of shot. She was bending down, but because she was below the camera's line of sight now, he couldn't see her. He heard a creaking sound. Suddenly, the floor beneath him was shifting. The front of the tank was rising. Smoothly and quickly it rose, tipping them into the backs of their seats.

Once she heard the primitive motor in the vehicle failing, Ria knew that there was nothing more to test her at Burpford. All that remained for her was to punish the men in the last three metal boxes for daring to fire their useless weapons at her. She bent down, hooking the fingers of her left hand around the bottom of the tank. It looked heavy, but when she pulled her dainty hand upwards, the front of the machine rose easily as if she were lifting a tiny piece of cloth, not a steel box containing three large males. She raised her arm until she held it above her head, the tank now at a forty-five degree angle as it pivoted at the back where it still touched the ground.

She felt as if she could have held the thing there like that all day with her single hand. She still had not become accustomed to the phenomenal strength of her slender body. Only the slow escape of the two other tanks gave her any cause to hurry. Glancing briefly over at one of them, an idea formed itself in her mind. She took her right hand from her side and violently thrust its opened fingers into the exposed belly of the tank she was lifting.  She jabbed in her fingers as far down as she could reach - about a third of the way between the front and the back of the tank. Her digits sunk into the toughened steel almost up to their roots.

With that hand now supporting the weight, she let go with her left. Stretching down she pressed her palm against the underside of the vehicle a little below her other hand. Using the fingers buried in the metal as a pivot, she pushed upwards with her left palm. To her delight the back end of the tank came as effortlessly off the ground as the front had done. She maneuvered her arms until, a heartbeat later, she held the entire, massive machine directly over her head, her slim arms stretched out, bearing the impossible weight with ease. The tank dwarfed her slender body as its shadow surrounded her, but it was her who felt powerful.

She turned to face the direction where one of the two other tanks was fleeing, some two hundred paces away. As she moved her feet, she held the enormous war machine comfortably overhead, her smile widening in anticipation of what she was about to do. Then she drew her arms back a little, bending her elbows as she did. The tank above her moved in response to every tiny movement she made. She paused for a moment to thrill in her power. Then she violently thrust her arms forward, bending into the motion as she released the huge metal box.

The tank rocketed from her hands. Her enhanced eyes saw the three men inside being instantly killed by the initial jolt as she launched the vehicle. It traveled across Burpford, almost parallel to the ground, at a speed maybe ten times faster than its engines could have managed. The force of Ria's throw surprised even her. Despite the fact that she put hardly any lift into it - only lateral propulsion - it easily covered the distance from one side of Burpford to the other. It had enough momentum in its flight to travel far further, had it not crashed into the side of the escaping tank she had targeted.

The power of the collision breeched the armor of both tanks and badly deformed their thick casings, even before the two fuel reserves almost simultaneously ignited. The explosions shook the ground as yellow and red flames leapt from the twin wreck high into the air. Billows of black smoke poured out of the charred, twisted metal mass, a witness to the impossible strength of the girl who had casually caused such spectacular damage. Two hundred paces away, she stood watching, admiring her handiwork, impressed with the way she'd destroyed two huge war machines.

Taking to the air, Ria lazily floated over towards the last remaining tank. She knew that this single machine was just about the last undamaged remnant of all Burpford. The realization of the scale of her rampage only served to increase the feeling of immeasurable power flowing through her veins. Hundreds of men, countless weapons; she had destroyed them all without difficulty. All around beneath her were the signs of the damage she had wrought. She felt like laughing. This planet was indeed hers. If its inhabitants did not know it already, then they would soon enough.

She settled her bare feet to the dusty ground about ten paces from the flank of the final tank. For an instant, she thought about hoisting it into the air and throwing it away as she had with the other. Then, she had another idea. Leaning forward she pushed out her lips and blew a jet of her sweet breath at the side of the moving vehicle. Dust and small rocks lifted from the ground in front of her. The tank itself came a small distance off the earth as it began to move at right-angles to the direction it had been traveling in. It bounced a couple of times as Ria's puff pushed it sideways, the strength of her lungs proving so vastly superior to the machine's engines.

Enjoying herself as she observed the way she could move the huge tank with nothing but her breath, the girl from Prytkon increased the force of her exhalation a little. The stricken vehicle rolled over onto its side, its underbelly now facing her. She sent one last big puff towards it and watched it turning over and over as it moved away from her before it finally came to rest, creaking on its battered roof, its long propulsion bands still moving as they pointed uselessly at the sky. A quick glance with her remarkable eyes confirmed that the three males inside were dead. So much for Burpford.

Ria took to the air and circled the ruined landscape, taking great pride in the widespread destruction she had single-handedly created. She was going to enjoy conquering this planet.

 

Conceptfan, Sep. 2002.

Chapter 8

Once the helpless victim of a mass uprising, Ria had suddenly become the most powerful being in a distant solar system whose very existence had hitherto been beyond the knowledge of her species. Humiliated and stripped naked, she was exiled into the cold depths of space by the victorious rebel army that overthrew, and then executed, her father, the tyrannical Emperor of their planet. The liberators of Prytkon intended that the dictator's daughter spend the rest of her days in endless isolation; lonely, weak, fragile. And powerless. Above all else, powerless.

But the liberators of Prytkon did not know of the tiny, invisible crack in the universe just beyond the edge of their solar system; a crack barely large enough for Ria's prison-ship to pass through. The crack was a truly bizarre phenomenon: a point were two, staggeringly-vastly distant points of the cosmos touched one another. Quite literally, an intergalactic short-cut. Anything that passed through the Prytkonian side emerged instantly amongst strange stars in a part of the universe so far from Prytkon that it would seem as much another existence as another location.

As her tiny exile-vessel slipped from its original realm into the remote galaxy on the other side of the phenomenon, the naked young woman within became the first of her race to be bathed in the yellow radiation of an alien sun. Radiation which infused every molecule of her ripe, desirable body with immeasurable power. Having fallen asleep a powerless prisoner trapped in a metal box, Ria awoke and found she had acquired enough strength to crush the dense material of the spaceship between her fingers with utter ease.

Soon enough her dainty limbs had breeched the exterior of the craft, causing it to implode. That was the moment she realised that she was now able to think and move hundreds of thousands of times faster than before. Then as she found herself floating naked and unharmed in the vacuum of space she learned that she possessed the ability to propel herself through space in any direction and at any speed she chose, all the while remaining completely invulnerable to the supposedly fatal effects of the freezing void. The discoveries of other suddenly-acquired powers followed. Her senses appeared to have improved almost beyond recognition. She had become an all-powerful goddess.

And then, fresh from learning about the limitless nature of her new abilities, she had found a whole planet, teeming with creatures who seemed to be of the same species as her. Creatures who did not possess the endless strength that now flowed through every fibre of her being. Creatures who were as soft, weak, fragile and vulnerable as she was indestructible.

Intrigued, she had descended to the surface of the planet and discovered that her dominance over these creatures was complete. Their weapons could not scratch her flawless feminine skin whilst their mightiest machines could not resist her apparently limitless strength. Most of the males she had encountered seemed in awe of her stunning beauty, surrendering to her womanly power even before they were forced to submit to her unopposable physical domination. With no effort, she had brushed aside a furious and noisy military attack, letting countless metal projectiles strike her magnificent, naked body; her stunningly sexy flesh absorbing thousands of supposedly-deadly explosions without sustaining so much as the tiniest of bruises. Meanwhile, she had hugely enjoyed destroying weapons, machinery and men with utter, arrogant ease: causing death and mayhem with a casual movement of one of her long, shapely limbs, or a lazy puff of breath exhaled through her rich, pouting lips...

Every passing moment brought her further proof of her untouchable dominance and fresh examples of the vastness of the power contained within her slender, curvaceous body. The planet, she quickly understood, was hers to dominate, to conquer - to rule - any way that she wished. Her physical superiority over its inhabitants was apparently infinite and the inhabitants' ability to resist her apparently non-existent. Far, far beneath her now, as she floated, motionless, in the upper reaches of the planet's atmosphere, the smoking, blood-splattered ruins of the place they called Burpford were a testament to these conclusions.

It had been a one-sided battle, but despite its failure to test the extents of her abilities, it had at least been useful to her as a means of demonstrating her power. Indeed, in that regard, the destruction of Burpford had been a great success. She had even been able to address one of the planet's leaders directly by taking advantage of some crude sound-and-picture-relaying technology. And so, she had announced herself to a creature known as "President". Knowing the fear she would instil, and delighting in it, she had cheerfully informed him of her intention to issue him with commands.

It did not matter to her how much time she gave this "President" and his soldiers to prepare. He would be as powerless to resist her as all the men of Burpford had been. As powerless as all the other leaders of the planet. And all of their armies. Ria was sure. She could not be resisted. It wasn't simply power - endless, unstoppable power - that seemed to fill every last atom of her being. It was confidence too. More than merely having a feeling that there was nothing that could stand in her way, she was convinced; utterly certain of her supremacy.

She smiled. She knew the thoughts of the one called "President" would be completely filled with the events at Burpford and her chilling promise to him. He would be trying to pre-empt her now; making plans, analysing strategies. "Let him plan," she thought to herself, "Let them all plan. It makes no difference. Leaders and subjects, military and civilians.. They cannot stop me. Soon, I shall issue commands to all the creatures of this world."

Her thoughts made her laugh. But it was not a laugh of megalomania, triggered by anticipating the thrill of subjugating a planet. The imminent exercising of her total supremacy delighted and excited her in more internal, more intimate ways. Ways which she could feel as delicious tingles between her thighs and in the perfect, firm pink points that crowned each of her glorious round breasts. Those feelings were the result of her thoughts of global conquest. Her laughter, however, was not connected with the sexual fervour she felt as she considered wielding her unfathomable power. She was laughing because of a separate feeling; a feeling of happy disbelief.

The situation in which she found herself seemed so preposterous. It was almost impossible to believe. She had fallen asleep helpless and supposedly forever alone and awoken in an utterly contrasting reality. Now, suddenly, she was considering, with glee, the most enjoyable way to conquer the teeming world below. So she laughed out loud at the thought of the insane reversal of fortune. A beautiful young girl, isolated from her birthplace by half the breadth of the universe, amused by the idea that she had so suddenly gone from helpless isolation to gaining superiority over an entire planet.

Miles beneath her lay the smoking wasteland strewn with broken buildings, rubble and corpses that had so recently been a military base. She had conquered and destroyed Burpford and now, it no longer interested her. She flew a leisurely circle above the ruins, delighting in the scale of her destruction and the perfect view of it afforded by her power over gravity as she looked straight down, over the swells of her breasts, past her feet, at the carnage she had wrought. Then, she was done with Burpford.

A fraction of an instant later, she was flying at speeds more than double those recorded by the fastest craft ever built on her new home planet. Such phenomenal acceleration placed massive strains on every part of the Prytkonian girl's perfect, naked body; strains which, although powerful enough to crush mountains, were far too weak to dimple her stunning feminine curves or to cause her any discomfort. As she shot through the Earth's atmosphere, the daughter of the last Emporer of Prytkon paid a similar lack of heed both to the massive G-forces that should have torn her apart and to the extreme, friction-generated temperatures that should have reduced her beautiful youthful form to ashes.

 

 

The live audio-visual link to Burpford Airforce Base was no longer functioning. In the President's office, the four screens that had relayed the images captured by tank-mounted cameras at the base were now displaying a black-and-white blizzard of static interference. The loudspeakers that had briefly allowed the President and his top military and civilian advisers to hear the extraterrestrial's commanding, feminine voice were now silent. A member of the security team had switched off the audio when it had degenerated into white noise.

The men and women in the room knew why the links to Burpford had been severed. They knew the alien had destroyed the tanks containing the transmitting equipment. They had witnessed much of her attack on the military vehicles while the links were still functioning. What they hadn't seen, they were able to imagine. Certainly, nothing they had viewed on the four screens gave them cause to believe that the extraterrestrial was unable, or unwilling, to perform such a series of destructive feats. Every person in the President's office - regardless of his or her background, expertise, rank or beliefs - knew that the quartet of tanks had been obliterated just as everything else at Burpford Base had been: by the unarmed invader from the stars.

"Seeing is believing" according to the cliche, but it was no simple task for the men and women in that room to accept what they had seen. The facts - the inescapable, undeniable facts - seemed to challenge all their accumulated knowledge and experience. For a while, they had been struggling to come to terms with a reality that, an hour earlier, all of them would have considered impossible.

But it was not impossible. It had happened. An entire army base, with all its men and all its weapons, had been overpowered, defeated and destroyed in minutes. By a single being. A girl. A young, slender, beautiful girl, her flawless skin entirely uncovered. A vision of female perfection, an erotic siren with a stunning face and a figure that could have been plucked from the combined sexual fantasies of a billion men... This girl, alone, and without weaponry, had destroyed Burpford.

Her naked, irresistible, nubile body had withstood a million bullets and a thousand explosions without sustaining a single scratch or bruise. Her long, slender arms, so feminine in appearance, had cut through dozens of men, thrown dozens more to their deaths and tossed sixty tonnes of military equipment from one side of Burpford to the other, apparently with consummate ease. Her shapely legs had propelled her across the dusty ground faster than the human eye could follow, and then killed with just a kick. Her gorgeous head had smashed through concrete and steel, her skull and the long, straight brown hair that covered it more effective than any demolition worker's wrecking ball. And she could fly without engines or wings, moving through the air with astonishing agility at speeds that were simply incalculable.

It defied all logic that a slim, petite, devastatingly sexy teenaged girl could be the possessor of so many remarkable abilities. How could that beautiful, lithe body contain such seemingly unlimited physical power? Her amazing strength alone was formidable enough, but in combination with her apparent invulnerability to military weapons it became a million times more terrifying. What could they do - what could anyone do - faced with a hostile enemy who was capable of causing unending destruction and who, so far, appeared utterly immune to all forms of counter-action?

The extraterrestrial's breathtakingly beautiful face and body were no longer on the screens, but she dominated the thoughts of all those present nonetheless. They were thinking not just of the amazing and horrifying acts they had already seen her commit but also about the further supposedly-impossible outrages she might yet perpetrate. These concerns for the future were well justified. Everyone in that room had heard the girl's chilling promise, spoken, amid the carnage and destruction, directly into the lens of one of the Burpford tank-cameras. Everyone was aware of the implications of her words, and the terror-inducing certainty with which she had delivered them. Everyone was afraid, although none more than the man to whom the statement was directly addressed.

The President sat at his desk, facing the men and women assembled in the office with him, well aware that all of them were just as stunned and as awed by the situation as he was. He summoned all his experience and his qualities of leadership, feeling the weight of responsibility. It was not simply his country's response to the events at Burpford - in itself, a devastating and unprovoked attack by an extraterrestrial force on U.S. soldiers on U.S. territory - that he had to address. There was also the matter of the verbal threat made by that extraterrestrial force. No matter how much he concentrated on matters such as the logistics of protecting his people, his thoughts were dominated by the alien's words. Over and over they echoed in his mind, spoken in that confident, haughty feminine voice with its strange, slightly foreign accent and imperfect grammar:

"I am commander of all. I kill all who fight me. I give you instructions soon."

 

 

Ria's words were also fresh in her own mind. Although only moments had passed since her pretty feminine feet had been on the blood-soaked soil of Burpford, she had already passed beyond even the uppermost traces of atmosphere and out into space. She was no longer moving now, having stopped her extraordinary ascent as suddenly as she had begun it. The frozen vacuum of the cosmos caused her as much discomfort as the weapons she had effortlessly brushed aside down on the surface. Every instant that passed, the brilliant white glare of the nearby yellow star bathed her with radiation that would have been deadly to any unprotected native of Earth. Ria, however, was a daughter of a planet in a distant galaxy and the unfiltered sunlight saturating her perfect naked skin merely brought her power. Endless power.

She could feel it in every part of her stunning body and the sensation was almost overwhelming. She had travelled so far up that beneath her, the Earth curved. Unbound by the forces of gravity that ruled the rest of existence, she maintained her position in space merely by means of her subconscious will to do so. With her fixed vantage, she could see the slow rotation of the globe and, without realising it, began to build a map of her new planet, its axis and its orientation in her superhuman mind. Her bright, clear, brown eyes gazed down, seeing through the clouds shrouding the world below. "I am commander of all," she echoed internally, enjoying the sounds of the newly-acquired alien language in which she had spoken them. Unthinkingly, she began to move through the near-void, covering a vast distance in the time it took to repeat the phrase. She came to a halt high above the cloud-covered northern pole. From there, she felt she was truly looking down upon the world.

"I am commander of all," she thought once more. And then, she thought it again, but this time using her birth language. Stripped of the distraction of translation, the full significance of the phrase combined with the view below to cause a tingling between her thighs so intense that she found herself biting her full bottom lip with her stunning top teeth. The idea of ruling an entire planet was stimulating her erotically. Stimulating her to a degree which surprised even her. Having power, having so much power... unlimited power... power over not just hundreds, or thousands or even millions but thousands of millions... The concept was so sexy to her, she could not resist the way it made her feel. Each of her already-prominent nipples expanded slightly, reddening from the palest pink, gently throbbing with pleasure, demanding attention. Her hands came up to caress them idly, fuelling the fire of passion within her as her fingertips brushed her chest. The incomprehensible strength that inhabited every fibre of her slender sexy body now served her lust. If a diamond the size of her fist had found itself at that moment between her hands and her breasts it would have been crushed out of existence against her flawless, exquisitely-rounded skin. She would barely have noticed the brief-lived obstacle as she indulged her nipples.

Her eyes had briefly closed as she lost herself to desire, but she forced them open to look down on the planet below. Her powerful, beautiful eyes saw through the clouds, scanning with rapidity and detail incomprehensible to any other living being. She wanted to see the millions of creatures that her power extended over. But something else caught her eye.

Directly below her feet was the planet's pole. She had no trouble seeing into the dark liquid water deep beneath the layers of cloud and the thick snow and ice of the surface and there she spotted it. A large device... a machine of some kind, almost at the bottom of the ocean. She spotted it immediately, despite the distance. It was shaped like a long cylinder with a rounded front. Intrigued, she examined it, identifying a crude propulsion system at one end and an access point on top, about halfway down the length of the craft. Her fantastic visual abilities allowed her to peer not only through the casing material, but also to accurately judge its thickness and composition: an arrangement of metal and other materials designed to keep the interior free of water. Inside, she saw males, fourteen in all, eight dressed in uniforms walking around the various sections of the vehicle, and six others asleep on bunks clustered in the remaining section. She did not recognise the clothing from her encounters on the planet to date, but she presumed it to be military in nature.

She tried to tune her ears to the conversations taking place within the vessel, but the depth of water, the thickness of the ice and the thudding of the thing's primitive, comically inefficient engines meant she could detect only muffled voices. She could make out enough to know that the males in there were speaking a language she had not yet heard, but not enough for her to begin learning it by picking out recurring sounds. Still idly caressing herself, she wondered why they were there, in their strange, phallic-shaped pathetically-slow-moving contraption, so far beneath the frozen surface.

 

 

This was no mission for rookies. In fact, the total experience of the fourteen men on board was huge. Only the best recruits were selected for the submarine fleet, and only those who excelled on their early voyages were deployed on long-term missions. But to be chosen as part of the crew for a massively sensitive, top secret mission under direct government orders meant you were considered the very best. There were none who combined the qualities of physical fitness, mental strength and total loyalty better.

Who else could be trusted to spend six months, trapped in a big cigar-tube in waters that their leaders had promised would never be encroached upon? Who else would carry out orders to the letter, even in the knowledge that should they be discovered, they would be officially disowned and effectively abandoned by their commanders? Who else would stay effective under the constant threat that, should anything go awry, they would be trapped near the bottom of the sea with ten meters of solid pack ice completely denying any possibility of surfacing...

Such a talented group required an exceptional commander, and in Sergey Kirovsky, they had one of the most experienced and decorated active submariners in the world. A beast of a man, who enjoyed his reputation as a formidable wrestler in his free time, his intimidating frame was matched by an electric intellect and an iron will. He had taken the responsibility of the mission, which was, as Admiral Dubrinsky had put it, to "guard the roof of the house from nosy neighbours" in his stride. He was proud to be undertaking covert surveillance for his motherland. Proud and well prepared.

 

 

The daughter of the last Emperor of Prytkon told herself that it was simple, idle curiosity that was compelling her to investigate the bizarre contraption. In truth, however, it was the insistent tingling of the most intimate parts of her glorious body and the sexual rush brought about by the mere contemplation of her staggering power that drove her. In her already-aroused state, the shape of the craft had permeated her subconscious, and it was that part of her mind that convinced her that she wanted to approach it, touch it... and dominate it. Gripped by overwhelming desire, she found herself not descending feet-first towards the planet below as she had done on her previous landings, but rather diving, headlong, straight for the submerged craft.

The almost-vertical angle of her approach caused her beautiful face to take the brunt of the fiction of atmospheric re-entry. Unaware of the heat warming her stunning features until they, and then the rest of her body, began to glow, she descended faster than any meteorite in the planet's history. As the air she rocketed through began to thicken, her fantastic pace did not slow. She was too powerful to be affected by the resistance offered by gases. Moments later, she slammed into the thick ice on the surface, her perfect skin by now so hot it would have instantly boiled away any material it touched. The force of her impact at that speed instantly smashed a hole in the packed ice that was twenty times wider than her arm-span and equally as deep, displacing a plume of frozen debris, chunks of which were still crashing back down on to the surface when she was already half-way to the bottom of the sea. She had penetrated and passed through the solid surface as if it simply had not been there.

The icy water fought to cool her incandescently hot body, boiling away furiously wherever it came into contact with her. The vastly greater density of the liquid and the increasing pressure as she descended failed to affect her speed, just as the planet's atmosphere and its thick polar ice cap had tried without success to slow her. Nothing in this solar system seem capable of resisting her, even fractionally.

Finally, she did decelerate. Not as a result of the forces of nature that bound everything in the galaxy. Those forces might have controlled the mightiest objects in that part of the Universe but they could not rein in Ria. She slowed because she chose to, effortlessly exercising her superhuman muscles with what to her was a tiny effort of thought. A tiny effort that was sufficient to cancel her astonishing momentum in less than an instant. She knew that her speed of approach was more than the metal vessel she was targeting could withstand, and, as atomising it in the blink of an eye was not her plan, she brought herself to a complete halt about a hundred body-lengths above it in the water.

She still had much to learn about the effects of her vast power. At over a hundred of her paces in length and nearly ten paces wide, the big metal contraption was huge compared with her slim, lithe body. Yet, despite her care not to get too close too quickly, the shock-wave she had already generated travelled beyond her stopping-point and buffeted the vessel with enough force to knock it sharply downwards a distance of about four times her height.

 

 

The sweeping line on the radar scope took under two seconds to complete a rotation of the circular screen. The two men on duty both heard the tell-tale beep from the attached loudspeaker and turned as one, displaying impressive levels of both concentration and reaction, to study the display. They both observed the small green dot that indicated an object had been detected overhead. In accordance with their training, they waited for the tiny instant to pass during which the scan would sweep around again. When the line reached the dot, one of two things could happen: either the dot would be confirmed as something requiring further investigation or it would vanish from the screen meaning it could be dismissed as a bird or other insignificant passer-by.

The glowing radar line had completed three-quarters of its crucial second rotation when the observers were suddenly thrown, or so it felt to them, directly upwards from their fixed seats. Neither had the time to even utter a cry of shock before the top of their heads impacted with a horrifying clang on the steel girders of the low ceiling. The force of the blow was more than either of the two skulls could withstand. As the two corpses fell back to the floor, the dot, now far bigger, glowed on the display.

In his tiny quarters, Captain Kirovsky fought to open his eyes. He'd been sitting at his desk when the depth charge or whatever it was had gone off. It had felt as if he had activated the ejector seat from an airplane as he shot upwards, but instead of sky, he'd met with a low metal ceiling. His hat had been destroyed, but it had saved his life. Nonetheless, a trickle of thick blood was making its way from a deep gash in the crown of his head.

He must've landed on his desk, because he could feel the broken pieces of what he assumed was his laptop computer under his back. He took it as a good sign that he could feel anything at all. Now he had to call on all his reserves of strength to check the crew, find out what had hit them and then decide whether to fight back or run away. Provided, of course, they were in any position to do either. He'd been on the wrong end of a depth charge in a sub once before. Either this one had gone off a lot closer than the first time it had happened to him or the explosive was a lot more powerful this time because that was one hell of a jolt. One thing he was certain of: he did not want the experience for a third time.

 

 

She watched, penetrating the thick solid casing with her gaze, as the men inside were tossed from their chairs and bunks and thrown against the ceilings above them to crash down on the metallic floors. Only a few showed any signs of movement in the following moments, writhing in obvious pain. None seemed willing or capable to try and regain their feet. She could hear the moans as she leisurely closed the distance to their craft.

The primitive propulsion system at the rear of the thing appeared to have survived the jolt. She ignored it completely, certain that whatever momentum it could generate was beneath her concern. Instead she approached the vessel from above, opening her arms and her legs as she made contact, as if trying to take the whole thing in an intimate embrace. Her arms, although long and beautifully shapely, were not wide enough to properly hug the craft. Neither could her legs gain a purchase, so she opted for merely draping herself on the top of the large machine.

The smooth, cold, hard metal felt good. It felt good against her forearms and her palms. It felt good against her knees. It felt fantastic against her tingling thighs and breasts. She could feel the weak throb of the engine transmitted through the casing and it stimulated her. She felt the points of her chest responding, swelling against the steel and the sensation filled her with lust. Without thinking she pressed her large round breasts into the metal and heard it groan as her softest parts began to overpower it. Her nipples began to burrow insistently into the solid surface of the craft, forcing the thick material to yield to their lust. Lost in the delicate but delightful feelings that filled her conscious, she thrust her hips forwards, opening her thighs wide until she felt the delicious contact of metal against her indestructible labia.

Muffled by the water, the sound of her most intimate flesh pressing into the steel was like a lover's moan of pleasure. She wanted more. She needed more. Her grip was not wide enough to draw the entire craft towards her as she wanted, so her fingers began to curl and carve into the steel, eliciting further moans as she sought to create improvised holds that would give her the leverage she demanded. Her knees, too, were deforming the metal, bending it as they tried to close against it. Thinking only of increasing the pleasant sensations she was experiencing, she pushed her body ever more forcefully into the thick casing, her nipples now buried deep within it, her breasts following, refusing to allow their perfect roundness to be compromised by mere steel but instead forcing the metal to take on increasingly severe imprints of their glory.

 

 

For a few instants, it was all very quiet. Kirovsky slowly sat up, blinking his eyes. The room swam around him, and he fought the urge to vomit. His head hurt like a bitch. He raised his fingers instinctively to touch where the pain was worst, and felt the wetness of blood straight away. He took his hand away immediately and brought it to his eyes for the crimson confirmation. He would need stitches but there was no time for that now. He had to check on the crew. His back twinged with agony as he tried to stand. Immediately he sunk back down. Perhaps if he tried from a different angle. If he rolled to one side and then... A searing bolt of pain shot through his spine making him cry out. He lay back on the desk, panting, sweat beading on his face.

Then there was a sound. Dull at first but rapidly intensifying. A sound like metal groaning. He turned his head to try and see its source. For a moment he thought he saw one of the exposed steel beams above him move. Then he was certain. Something, clearly something enormous, was above. The metallic screeching became more persistent. Whatever it was, it was pressing into the top of the ship, right above his head. His mind raced. What could be heavy enough to deform a submarine? An iceberg, perhaps? But how did an iceberg sink? What the hell was up there?

 

 

The moans of helpless metal intensified in volume but she paid them no heed. Her fingers were now embedded to the knuckles, wadding up chunks of compressed steel and she used these as grips to try and draw the entire, massive machine towards her hungry nubile body. She began to move her hips, slowly rubbing her nether lips against the smooth casing, making it shriek as she carved out ever deepening grooves with her intimacy. The steel displaced by her unopposable breasts compressed, building up in the cleavage between them and in the diminishing space between their glorious outer curves and the smooth perfect flesh of her forearms until it could compress no more and it began first to glow, then to melt, and finally to boil despite the freezing water all around.

Still, she had to have more. Using her ability to propel herself through space, air and water at will, she began to rotate her body, moving from her torso being parallel with the ocean floor towards being perpendicular to it. With her hands, her chest, her groin and her knees now so deeply embedded in the solid casing, and the strength of her body so vast, she barely felt the extra effort as she began to move not only herself but also the entire hundred-stride-long contraption.

The engines were still functioning. The gentle throbbing they induced in the metal she was hugging was pleasing but that was the full extent of their effectiveness. Although sufficient to push such a huge machine through water at the extreme pressures found at such depths, their power was meaningless against Ria's intimate embrace. She had overpowered their thrust the instant her delicate-looking hands touched the contraption. The craft was moving now entirely according to the desires of the young alien girl's slim, sexy body.

The groaning of surrendering steel crescendoed to a near-scream as she effortlessly subjected the massive craft to forces that its designers could never have imagined. She opened her eyes and raised her head to watch as the giant cylinder began to tilt according to her whims. The sight of the rounded front end of the vast contraption raising towards upright high above her under her incalculable power both delighted and excited her in turns.

 

 

The sound of tortured metal echoed inside the ship until it was almost too much to bear. Captain Kirovsky made one final attempt to raise himself only to be forced back down by an agony that not even he could ignore. Even shouting for help seemed futile, given the deafening groans and screeches of the steel above him. He was powerless to do anything but stare at the ceiling, watching it now deform before his eyes, small bulges appearing in several places above him. He knew how thick the metal was, and the thought that he was at the mercy of a force powerful enough to make such impressions was frightening, even for a man who had very little time for fear.

The ceiling wasn't just deforming. It was also warming. He could feel the heat radiating from the most affected spots. His mind raced, trying to think of something - anything that could be responsible. Huge chucks of burning rocks raining down? But from where? Surely the ship's sensitive seismic equipment would have detected if there was volcanic activity in the area. Pieces of meteorite? That seemed a better fit.

His thoughts were interrupted by the metallic noise reaching a new peak. He became aware of something moving beside him. Pens. Rolling off his desk. Then some pieces of broken laptop sliding off too. The desk was moving. No... the whole ship was moving. It was tilting! Pieces of meteorite shouldn't have been able to cause that... And then he was sliding, inexorably at first but soon quicker and quicker. He was sliding. Off the desk. "Oh no!" he thought. "My back!" He felt the moment his fall began. In that instant, time seemed to stretch. He could feel himself descending. And above him, at the centre of the source of the noise and heat, he saw a hand bursting through the ceiling with a spray of ice cold sea water. A small, human, female hand. Widening his eyes in shock was his final act.

 

 

Ria could see the dead and injured men inside her toy begin sliding and rolling along the floors of the vessel as gravity asserted itself in a way it seemed incapable of doing with their conqueror. Soon enough, those floors no longer qualified for the name as the huge contraption turned ever more towards vertical. The men slumped down on to what had once been walls. Their sheer helplessness only fuelled Ria's passion further as she continued both to turn the whole vehicle towards the vertical and to pull its suffering, deforming casing towards her lustful body. With a low thud, her right hand finally pushed aside the overworked remnants of steel in its path and penetrated the interior. She could feel the water rushing in through the gaps between her fingers. A moment later, her other hand followed suit.

Now she had two holes she could thrust her arms through. She hugged the protesting, doomed steel against herself with even greater force, thrilling in the sensation of thick metal stretching like fabric in a futile attempt to accommodate her magnificent chest. Her knees closed slightly, tearing two further breeches in the casing whilst her labia continued to cut into the material every time she drew them up and down. Finally, inevitably, the steel surrendered entirely to her breasts. She had crushed and deformed a large section of thick metal entirely out of existence with her feminine power.

Gone was the pleasurable feeling of supposedly-hard material against her erect nipples but she still had the wonderful feeling of the still-intact section between her thighs as it slowly yielded to her sex. The ocean flooded into the various tears in the vessel, dramatically altering its weight and balance but she held it in place with her arms and knees, her sexy, lithe, superhuman muscles barely registering the extra effort that was now required keep it upright. She continued to rub her intimacy against the battered metal beneath it until it, too, gave in, the remaining, now thin, bits of material boiling away under friction and pressure that would have defied belief.

Without the steel casing to pleasure her, she needed to use her own, massively more powerful fingers. She did not bother to remove her arms from the holes they had made in the sides of the defeated vessel, but simply brought her hands directly to her crotch via the shortest possible route, her slender forearms carving through the few intact bits of metal that stood in their way. She found her intimacy with well-practised expertise, opening her knees and letting the massive machine slip from her last remaining grip. Millions of bubbles of displaced air rushed upwards along its length towards the surface as the behemoth slowly sank towards the ocean floor below her.

By the time the propellers of the up-ended craft touched the bottom, she had pleasured herself towards the peak of a orgasm more intense than any she had ever experienced before. By the time the rest of the thing had finally settled on the seabed, her release had broken, filling every part of her being with a pleasure so torrid she could never have dreamed it possible. In the end, her dainty little fingers had succeeded where vast quantities of thick steel had so abjectly failed.

Her recovery from the fabulous orgasm was almost instant. No tiredness affected her since her transformation. There was no gasping for air; the concept was ridiculous given that she had just travelled from outer space to the bottom of the ocean without needing to draw a single breath through her sexy lips. She did not even glance down at the massive, destroyed vessel or the dead males inside it as she rocketed back towards the surface. It had served its purpose as a brief, pleasurable distraction. Its contents, meanwhile, had barely even registered in her mind.

As she carved upwards through the water, immune to the sudden extreme changes in environmental pressure that would have instantly killed anyone born on Earth, her thoughts had already returned to her impending conquest of the planet.

 

 

Everyone was looking to him for answers, but there seemed to be only questions filling the President's thoughts. Questions such as 'How was it all possible?'. And 'Can it be stopped?'. And dozens more leading up to 'What does "I give you instructions" mean?' and the scariest one of all: 'How long is "soon"?' If he was to determine the best course of action, he needed some information. Someone in this room full of egg-heads, generals and ass-lickers had to know something! He looked up from the notebook that was opened on the desk in front of him, making sure his features showed determination and calm rather than the bewilderment and unease he was feeling and found himself looking at a wall of expectant faces. They were all waiting for him to speak. For the first time since his election, he realised the true implication of the phrase "the burden of Office". His gaze fell upon a familiar face and he took comfort from the dark green uniform that accompanied it.

"General," the President finally broke the silence, "are your men tracking the alien?"

"We had the extraterrestrial on scope at Burpford, sir," General Rogers began with the good news, but he quickly moved on to the bad: "...however all traces vanished off our systems shortly after we lost the audio-visual link from the tanks."

This was far, far removed from the sort of concrete information the President craved. He did not prevent his exasperation from colouring his tone as he asked "Surely the alien didn't just... disappear?" He dismissed the thought that flashed through his conscious as he formed the question; namely that, in the context of all the astonishing feats already attributed to the extraterrestrial, the ability to simply "disappear" suddenly didn't seem so inconceivable.

"Well," General Rogers replied, unaware of his supreme commander's doubt, "No, sir. My men say the being was moving too fast to track. We, ah, also lost her in a similar fashion just before the attack on Burpford commenced..."

It seemed the General had not been the right choice for useful, up-to-date information. Rogers' answer was neither helpful nor reassuring. The President decided to find out if there was anything to be gleaned from what his most trusted military advisor did actually know.

"General, how fast is 'too fast' for your equipment?"

"I'm... I'm not sure, sir..." The leader's heart sank. He listened to the rest of the General's words with little hope of his frustrations being ended. "Nothing we've ever tried to track within the Earth's atmosphere has ever been too fast for this equipment. We've followed fighter aircraft, rocket launches, meteorites... even ICBMs in flight. I guess the alien is a bunch faster than any of those..."

The Commander-in-chief was almost angry now. Although it wasn't wise for a leader to display exasperation at such a critical time, he found himself speaking in clipped tones nonetheless. "Well, you know more about this than I do, General, so give me your informed estimate: How fast can it - er, she - travel - er, fly?"

Now he was stumbling over his words. He knew that was bad: he mustn't reveal his inner uncertainty. He had to be clear in his thoughts and his speech. Why had he hesitated? Why had he changed his mind about his wording, mid-sentence? It had happened when he'd referred to the alien as "it". He'd felt a compelling need to go back and change "it" for "she". For a brief moment, he had recalled that the "extraterrestrial force" at the centre of his thoughts was also a "she". A girl. A beautiful, sexy, naked young girl...

No! He had to keep his mind clear. Concentrate on the General's answer to his question. Numbers... Facts... Calculations... not Thighs, Lips and Breasts...

"I would think," declared the General, "that the minimum speed necessary for an object to appear to vanish completely from our all our tracking systems would be well over 4,000 miles per hour, sir."

Over four thousand miles per hour... The statistic entered the President's conscious, but it did not make any noticeable impact on his thought processes. Mostly because the bulk of those processes were otherwise engaged. "Extraterrestrial BEING" the Chief of Staff told himself. "Not a girl. She... No, no NO! IT. IT is a BEING. And I will not think about ITs breasts anymore! I will not waste vital moments on the perfect roundness, the magnificent ripeness, the -" His internal monologue was interrupted by the nervous, hurried voice of one of his political team. The urgent delivery helped the leader recover the full use of his brain for matters of State.

"Sir," warned the aide, "at those speeds she could get here inside ten minutes! We have to get you out of here - now. Sir."

"I am aware of that," the President snapped back, simultaneously annoyed at the use of the word "she" and relieved that someone else had performed the mental calculation whilst he had been distracted. At least a course of action now seemed to be crystallising. A course of action that focussed on his personal safety. His politician's instinct told him that it was a course worthy of pursuit. "That speed is only a minimum," the Commander-in-Chief pointed out, adding to the aide's sense of urgency. "It may already be too late. Given what we already know of this..." (No! Don't use the "g" word! That was close! Concentrate!) "...this being's capabilities, who's to say it can't move twice as fast as that..."

"That's why we have to go immediately sir," the advisor concurred. "We should use Plan Scarlet... Mr. President?"

Anyone who'd attended a top level security meeting knew that 'Scarlet' was the last line on the colour-coded list of Presidential Evacuation Plans. There wasn't any quicker way out of there.

"Let's go." The President gave the evacuation his blessing.

"Everybody, follow me!" announced the head of the security team, leading the way out of the room.

For the members of that select group who had heard of, but never actually seen the emergency elevator, the sheer size of it was impressive. It comfortably held nineteen men and women, including the Chief of Staff, his top general and his most trusted advisers. Its huge doors closed over the view of government offices and the cabin plunged downwards at stomach-churning speed, coming to a controlled halt seconds later. The doors slid open to reveal an underground railway platform on the far side of which a state-of-the-art, windowless subway-style train stood with its sliding doors open.

The President followed his top security man on board. There was a seat obviously meant for him, located behind a desk-like table and he headed towards it. As the chair and table were more-or-less centrally-positioned inside the train's single, exceptionally long carriage, he was still en-route when the hydraulic doors hissed closed. Instantly, the train lurched forward, almost knocking him off his feet. Certainly, he couldn't have any complaints regarding the efficiency with which Plan Scarlet was being executed. In fact, he was still recovering his balance a few seconds later when the escape vehicle accelerated into the long, dark tunnel ahead.

He felt no reassurance despite the impressive speed of the train. No matter how fast his transport shot along, "it" - the extraterrestrial being - could move faster. If only he knew where "it" was now! Where had "it" gone from Burpford? Four thousand miles per hour! Or, maybe, even faster than that! But... in which direction?

 

 

Ria had not given much thought to the speed at which she was travelling, under her own wonderful, endless power. Such normally staggering statistics were barely noticeable achievements for a being who possessed countless supposedly "incredible" abilities. Once she had indulged herself with one final circumspection of the death and devastation she had caused to Burpford, she had taken to the sky as effortlessly as she had destroyed men, weapons and buildings. From there, she had flown to a different part of planet Earth as quickly and with precisely the same ease with which she might have crossed from one side of a room in the Emperor's palace on Prytkon to the other. Now, mere moments after the subaquatic vessel she'd found beneath the polar ice had ceased entertaining her, she had already shot away through the thick Arctic cloud and beyond into the stratosphere.

But although she did not share the leader's preoccupation with her precise velocities or location, Ria knew that he would undoubtedly be thinking about her and this knowledge delighted her. The hapless Burpford soldier whom she'd torn from one of the machines known as "tanks" had informed her that her effortless, crushing victory there had been witnessed by the one they called "President". It pleased her greatly to know that this supposed leader had seen for himself just how ineffective his military had proven against her. Now there could be little doubt in "President"'s mind that her superiority over his forces was total. He would know that he could not protect himself, or his people, from her. He would have realised that he could not challenge her with the types of weapon used at Burpford. He would have seen for himself that he, and his armies and his populations were helpless before her. Such an understanding on his part would make her eventual direct encounter with him so much more entertaining.

She recalled the terror of the commander of Burpford as he had sat in his underground chamber, dreading her arrival. The girl from Prytkon smiled as she thought of how "President" must now be experiencing similar fear as he awaited the instructions she had promised to give him. She already knew where his residence was located. Briefly, she considered flying to him immediately, sorely tempted by the idea of humiliating a male who supposedly enjoyed power over so many millions of others.

After a few moments' consideration, she decided to delay her visit to the leader. She recalled how enjoyable it had been to leave the commander of Burpford to sweat whilst she had toyed with the rest of the creatures in his building. She resolved to do likewise with this "President". He would wait for her, increasingly anxiously, and she would go to him at the moment of her choosing. Let him sit with his fears, she reasoned to herself. Let him suffer the agony of delay before the moment he must be dreading finally arrives.

Noticing that she had already flown clear of the planet's atmosphere altogether, she turned sharply without slowing, exhibiting staggering control of her movements as she began to follow the curve of the globe below, travelling away from the icy pole, heading over the blue oceans and the green and brown landmasses that were the bulk of her new home. She saw the continents, spread beneath her as if they had been laid out purely for her benefit. Her gorgeous eyes twinkled, their limitless power allowing them to effortlessly focus in on the thousands of cities below.

Ria stared down at one population centre after another, studying the buildings and vehicles with ease, despite the vast distance between her and the objects of her observations. Her eyes shone with mischievous pleasure as they adjusted to look deeper still, revealing the people teeming about. So many of them! And all of them, it seemed, so weak, so pathetic, so fragile... All of them hers to conquer, to dominate, to rule. A feeling of sheer joy erupted in her soul. The whole planet below was hers for the taking.

She was certain now. She would make the one called "President" wait. And in the meantime, she grinned to herself, she could give him, along with the rest of the planet - her planet - another little demonstration of her power. Ria blinked, instinctively altering the field of her astonishing vision, so that she was looking down on entire continents once more, seeing the myriad cities like enticing jewels scattered over the various land-masses below.

As a child back on Prytkon, when her father was the supreme ruler of that planet, she would sometimes be offered her choice from the spoils of his tyranny. During the years in which she blossomed into adulthood, the Emperor frequently gave his ever-more beautiful daughter lavish gifts as a substitute for the love he was incapable of feeling, let alone sharing. Always, after the murder of yet another opponent of his dictatorship, he would command his soldiers to gather all of the victim's family's possessions. The lands, weapons and money that were seized would be immediately added to his own, vast fortune. Any jewellery or precious gems would be gathered in a chamber in his palace that was set aside purely for that one purpose.

Occasionally, once every new piece had been laid out on display, the Emperor would invite his teenaged daughter into the Treasure Room to choose her share of the spoils. Ria loved those moments. She adored the excitement of seeing the new trinkets and examining a fresh batch of stolen objects of beauty. Most of all, she delighted in knowing that whichever piece she chose, no matter how rare or how expensive it was, no matter whom its rightful owner had been, the moment she announced that she wanted it, the item would be transported to her quarters by servants and become part of her possessions.

The thrill of acquiring yet another article whose value was far, far beyond the wildest dreams of almost every other inhabitant of Prytkon never seemed to diminish. It was of no significance to her that her new trinket had come into her possession by means of oppression, robbery and murder. Nor was she in any way affected by the fact that she herself had done nothing to earn it other than pointing and announcing, like the spoilt Princess she was, "I will have that one." Of course, the new piece would quickly lose its special interest and become just one more item in her massive collection. But she still felt the same tingle of excitement whenever she was invited to come to the Treasure Room and make another selection.

After her father the Emperor had finally been deposed, all his possessions were seized by the rebel hordes. Some items were returned to the descendants of their original owners. Ria's father suffered the indignity, shortly before his execution, of seeing his magnificent palace and its Treasure Room being opened up to the general populace so that his former subjects could come and gawk at some of the more tangible excesses of his rule.

The victorious rebels also took away all of Ria's belongings. Her jewellery, her trinkets, her vast wardrobes crammed with the finest clothes... It was one of the very few occasions of her life that she had shed tears. Not for the death of her father, but for the loss of her wealth and her endless privileges. The humiliation of being stripped naked and exiled, alone, into the vast emptiness of the Universe had seemed a secondary wronging compared with what she felt was the ultimate injustice of losing her countless beautiful possessions...

The Prytkonians surely would have chosen a different punishment for her, if only they had known what was to become of her. Had they been aware of the minuscule tear in the fabric of space that her cramped exile vessel would fall into, transporting both ship and passenger to a distant, uncharted region of another galaxy, they would have sent the craft on a different course through the stars. But they were as ignorant of the worm-hole as they were of the astonishing transformation that any member of their race would undergo once exposed to the alien solar radiation on the other side. It was never their intention that the girl they were banishing for all eternity would become an indestructible, invulnerable goddess with unlimited strength and countless other wondrous powers.

But, regardless of the plans of the liberators of Prytkon, the exile ship had fallen through the tear. And Ria had, indeed, become the very personification of unstoppable might. No longer was she helplessly drifting in solitary isolation as her captors had intended. Her newly acquired powers had released her from the confines of her prison ship, and given her the freedom of a far-flung galaxy. Now, she hovered in space above a strange, inhabited planet and felt endless sensations of power - unstoppable, unlimited, unquestionable power - pulsating through every last fibre of her being. She had lost her right to the throne of Prytkon and all her possessions. But, she reflected, it appeared that she had gained mastery over an entire world in return. Her broad, perfect, gleaming smile told of her satisfaction with the exchange.

As Ria looked down on the thousands upon thousands of cities on the surface of the planet beneath her, she felt the same excitement she had felt as a young girl entering her father's Treasure Room. The gleaming population centres below, each one crowded with tens or hundreds of thousands of inferior beings, reminded her of the jewels and trinkets laid out for her by the palace servants of her youth. But each of those cities, just waiting for her to descend and conquer, was far more desirable than the shiny treasures of her home-world. Jewels were not full of people for her to subdue and dominate in any way she pleased.

Making a selection from the Treasure Room had always been thrilling. But this feeling - the sensation of absolute power over an entire solar system - was a million times more intense. Her unique privilege as Emperor's daughter back on Prytkon was to be able to choose just one of the stolen trinkets on display. Hundreds of days would pass before her father would next invite her to take her pick from some new looted horde. But, now, unlike in that magnificent chamber in the Imperial Palace, she was not limited to a choice of just one of the gleaming cities below. The cities were all hers, and hers alone. Hers to help herself to, whenever she wished. Hers to do with as she wanted.

All of it was hers. The cities, the continents, the populations... All hers. The whole planet was her Treasure Room. And on this world, there was no rebel army that could depose her and no Emperor - paternal or otherwise - who might restrict her to only the surplus spoils. She could choose a city now, and once the novelty of doing as she pleased with it faded, she could pick another. And then another. With the unending powers she now possessed, there were no limits to what she could take. And no limits to what she could do. She needed no armies to impose her will or to carry out her designs. In her stunning, desirable, youthful body she possessed many thousands of times more might than all the armies of both Prytkon and her new planet combined. Her father, at the height of his rule, might have dreamed of holding such power over his world. She already held it over hers.

Her smile widened still further as she thought of the one called "President" nervously waiting for her to come and command him according to her whims. First, though, she would spend some time in one of the myriad cities below. She told herself that giving the leaders - along with all the populations of the planet - another demonstration of her phenomenal might was all part of her conqueror's strategy. In truth, she was far, far too powerful to need to be concerned with concepts like strategy. If she had been more honest with herself at that moment, she would have confessed that her decision to visit a population centre owed very little to military-style plotting but a great deal to the attraction of exercising her power over thousands upon thousands of helpless inferior creatures. And so, with child-like glee, she began the process of selecting a city.

For a moment, as she made her selection, Ria's thoughts wandered back to her memories of the Treasure Room on Prytkon. Despite herself, she felt a twinge of sadness; a pang of nostalgia for the life and the world where she had grown up - a world now forever lost to her. She had nothing to link her back to her past. No souvenirs, none of her treasures. Not even her clothes. The planet beneath her now, her new home, was alien to her. Other than the people teeming on its surface, nothing else about it was like her home-world. The clothing, the architecture, the vehicles, the languages - some of which she was already beginning to learn - were all different. All so very, very different. Nothing seemed familiar to her. No, nothing.

Nothing, that was, except for... Maybe she had, at some subconscious level, been searching for things that reminded her of Prytkon. Maybe it was simply pure chance. But at that moment her eyes fell upon a familiar shape. It was an object. Or rather part of an object. Not down on the surface of the planet, but actually up in space, not far from her current position. The object containing the subject of her interest was about twice her size. It was clearly manufactured by the inhabitants of the planet below. She instantly recognized the clumsy, primitive technology.

Somehow, those creatures had managed to place the thing in orbit around their world. She assumed its purpose had something to do with passing information or data from space back to the planet. Or, perhaps, it was used to pass signals from one part of the globe to another, the inhabitants' technology limited to line-of-sight transmissions that required devices stationed beyond the atmosphere to overcome the obstacle presented by the curvature of the surface. Curious, she floated effortlessly up to the thing. At its extremities, it was about twice her height and three times her girth, but the surface was far from smooth. All kinds of objects and panels extruded from what appeared to be some type of central electronic mechanism. It was deep within that middle section that the item which had originally caught her eye was located. In fact, it had only been her ability to see through the solid metal casing - not to mention through dozens of cables and other pieces of equipment as well - that had allowed her to spot the target of her inquisitiveness at all, so deeply was it buried inside the overall device.

Distracted by the larger contraption for a moment, she found herself pondering its purpose. She wondered if it was another gadget for relaying images, like the ones the men at Burpford had used. Flying a quick, but relaxed loop all around the entire thing, she searched for lens-based, image-capturing machines like the one she had stared into to address the leader known as "President". But there were no lenses; only antennae and big flat panels whose purpose she could only guess at. Clearly, the thing did not transmit pictures taken in space to the surface, but rather some other kind of data.

Her interest in the overall machine was exhausted. She turned her attention back to the smaller object contained within: a solid-looking, shiny, almost golden spiral, made of thick strands of some metal which had been wrapped tightly around another object to make a semi-circle of coils. If it had been a full circle, it would have almost exactly resembled the Prytkonian Emperor's crown as worn, for so many years, by her father. The shape of the thing had grabbed her imagination the moment she had first noticed it, because of its striking similarity with the silhouette of her father's headpiece, a design that had been used on her home planet to symbolise Imperial rule and power.

Did the inhabitants of the world below use the same symbol in their own culture? If so, why had they cut a crown in half and incorporated it within their primitive data-transmitting device? Perhaps closer inspection of the thing would provide some answers. She reached out towards the metal casing that stood between her and the object of her curiosity. Her petite, slender fingers punched effortlessly through the outer covering, followed by the rest of her hand. Various pieces and blocks of solid material were smashed, crushed and brushed aside as she plunged her arm deep inside the contraption until her fingers closed around her target.

The intriguing coil of metal was attached to the rest of the mechanism by thick bolts and a series of cables. Ria merely gave it a casual tug, ripping it free of all its restraints with ridiculous ease. A series of electrical sparks erupted as her pull tore the cables apart. At the same time, a series of small illuminated circular indicators on the central section of the machine quickly faded to dark. The brilliant sparks momentarily bathed the front of her naked body, but they caused her no discomfort. She ignored them completely as she carefully separated the semi-circle of metal from the core it was wrapped around.

It really did seem like she was holding half of the Crown of Prytkon. If only there was another just like it, she realised, she would be able to join the two pieces together and recreate an emotive symbol from her home. A quick glance revealed no more half-crowns inside the machine she had just ripped open. Taking the next logical step, she started to look at the space around her. If there was another of the strange, bigger devices in orbit, it might well contain the same components, perhaps including the other part of her royal headgear.

It took mere moments to conclude her search successfully. Out of what might be termed "normal" sight, behind the curve of the planet, but presenting no challenge to her amazing visual abilities, was another almost identical machine, hovering in a similar orbit. Holding onto the semi-circle of metal she'd already extracted, she set off, propelling herself towards the second contraption.

 

 

"We're ten minutes from the airfield, Mr. President," announced a member of the security team, looking up from a display screen mounted in a desktop in one corner of the huge main carriage of the evacuation train.

The Chief-of-Staff was seated in the centre of the mobile office, behind a large table. The unsolicited time-check had disturbed a heated, semi-whispered discussion with a key advisor, and the President's curt "Thank you," did not hide his annoyance. He turned back to resume the debate, only to be interrupted once again. At least this time, the information being passed on was more useful.

There was a small communications desk in one corner of the carriage. General Rodgers was hunched over it, holding a telephone handset to his ear whilst a technician seated at his side typed frantically at a small computer keyboard. It was the General who provided the latest interruption, all thoughts of protocol lain aside as he turned his head over his shoulder and shouted "We've found her! Mr. President! My men have tracked the alien!"

The man he was addressing momentarily held off from delivering the argument he was about to present to his advisor, and turned sharply in his swivel chair to face the General. "Where is she?" he demanded. He couldn't help shooting a nervous glance in the direction of the train roof.

"A major commercial communications satellite over Winnipeg just suffered a sudden total failure," the General explained. "Our technicians are reporting a scan reading of an object of the same size as the alien, apparently in an identical orbit alongside the failed satellite."

The Commander-in-Chief couldn't conceal the concern in his voice as he asked "So, the object you're scanning is still up there... with the satellite?"

The General rephrased the question into the mouthpiece of the telephone he was still holding to his face and frowned as he listened to the answer. The President squirmed uneasily as he waited for Rogers to relay the response.

"Ah, she was there until about thirty seconds ago, Sir," the General eventually said. The emphasis he placed on the word "was" told a story all by itself.

The leader's frustrated sigh was audible to everyone on board. "What happened?" he demanded.

"She... she went off-scope again, Sir."

"Off-scope, General? Where the hell is that? Tell your men to find her again as quickly as possible and to do everything they can to keep her movements tracked," The President's exasperated tones made his displeasure clear.

"Sir," Rogers began in reply, speaking in clipped tones as he tried to keep his own anger in check, "it's nigh-on impossible to maintain tracking vigilance. She's just too goddam fast."

The Chief-of-Staff scowled. "Well, do your best," he instructed before swivelling to face his advisor once more, turning his back on the General. "Frank," he started to explain, "I take your concerns on board, but I just don't believe your idea would work here. What we need is..."

 

 

At that very moment, far above the upper limit of the world's atmosphere, Ria was completing her intercontinental voyage. Having set off to investigate another of the artificial satellites orbiting the planet, her odyssey a quarter of the way around the globe had taken exactly as long as the brief conversation between the President and his General far, far below her. So powerful were her self-propulsion abilities, she was able to fly comfortably at such spectacular speeds and yet slow to a complete halt in the tiniest fraction of an instant, coming to a perfect, sudden stop. Now she was floating motionless in space, her flawless body precisely half-an-arm's length from the main hub of the second orbital device.

Moments earlier, when she was still the width of a continent away from the contraption, her sparkling eyes had already penetrated its mechanism. She had long since located another semi-circular metallic coil amidst the numerous other components inside; not an exact match for the "half-crown" she had ripped from the first of the primitive contraptions, but close enough for her intentions. Now, without a thought, she slammed her petite hand through the metal cover and plunged her slender forearm deep into the machine, brushing aside whatever she encountered until her fingers carefully curled around the coil. She removed it with the gentlest of tugs, pulling it clear of the rest of the device amidst a brief eruption of sparks.

 

 

Twenty seconds later, inside the Presidential train, General Rogers stood up sharply. "Where?" he demanded, half-yelling into the telephone handset he was still holding. "Exactly when? How many seconds after the first one? Are you sure?"

The President immediately held up his hand, halting his advisor mid-flow, before muttering a quick apology and then turning his chair around yet again. "General!" he shouted. "What's happening?"

"Sir, another commercial satellite seems to have suddenly stopped functioning," the General reported, breathlessly. "Above South-Western Europe. The, er, moment of failure occurred approximately fifty-two seconds after the North American satellite went down."

"Fifty-two seconds!" the President exclaimed. "My god, either there's more than one force attacking those satellites or that... that..." It was too late. He had to utter the forbidden word. The 'G' word. "...that girl can travel five thousand miles in under a minute!"

If the Chief-of-Staff himself, along with every last member of his entourage, hadn't fully appreciated the insurmountable scale of the challenge facing them, this latest speed-of-movement calculation finally made it stark. There was a noticeable increase of anxiety around the room, along with an equally evident lowering of spirits in response to the leader's numerical conclusion.

General Rogers' habitual brisk, military manner meant that the level of his personal spirit was a perpetual secret. Had it occurred to him at that moment to reveal the state of his private thoughts, he would have told of despondency and pessimism due to events at Burpford where top ground and air-based equipment, and a lot of good men, had been lost trying and failing to stop the alien. He might also have mentioned the anger he felt towards his Commander. Since the current crisis broke, Rogers felt the President had repeatedly demanded the impossible from both him and the forces under his command. His men were doing all they could! Wasn't the number of dead in the last few hours proof enough of that?

Thinking of the casualty statistics, the General found himself momentarily stunned by the apparent absurdity of the situation. It was astonishing to think that the military had sustained such losses. Only a few hours ago, all this had seemed such a minor problem; a single being the size of... Well, the size of what she seemed to be: a teenaged girl. A single being, not a gigantic monster, not some massive, muscle-bound, vaguely-humanoid warrior, but a girl. Nothing but a young, skinny... Alright, dammit... not skinny but slim and curvy and unbelievably sexy, but still... a girl! Just one girl! How was his army - and his airforce - not able to destroy her? How had she torn his men apart with such ease and such impunity? She was just a girl! A naked, gorgeous girl! This had gone on long enough. Surely it was time to end it now. Time for bold action. Time for the pig-headed President to grow some balls and sanction the use of his non-conventional arsenal.

Of course, General Rogers kept all those thoughts to himself. He was not the kind of man to share feelings. He banished all trace of emotion from his voice as he spoke into the telephone. "Understood. Continue to monitor and stand by." Then he turned away from the communications desk, covering the mouthpiece of the telephone handset whilst keeping the earpiece pressed to the side of his head. It was time to interrupt his beloved Commander-in-Chief once again.

"Mr. President!" the general called.

"What is it now, General?" inquired the leader, far from pleased with yet another disturbance, and already expecting further bad news or, at best, more useless information.

Rogers' words mildly surprised him: "Sir, we have a tracking lock on an unknown object of appropriate size next to the European satellite."

"OK, General. So, I'm guessing it's safe to assume that the same entity is responsible for the failure of both satellites?"

"At this moment, sir, all the data suggests that is correct."

"I wish I knew what the hell she's doing up there," the President muttered, loud enough for most of those present to hear him.

 

 

Ria was playing. She had brought the two semi-circular coils towards each other and had welded the ends together by moulding the metal between her phenomenally strong fingertips. Then she had placed the counterfeit crown of Prytkon on her head. To keep it in place, she had pulled it down so that the metal had no choice but to stretch and yield, adapting to the contours of her invulnerable skull.

There was a large, smooth, rectangular and - crucially - shiny flat panel attached to the orbiting device from which she had torn the second half of her crown. Using a single hand, she grabbed hold of the nearest edge of the oblong protrusion and tore it free from the rest of the contraption with an effortless movement of her dainty-looking wrist. With no more use for the main machine, she disdainfully dismissed it from her presence with a casual kick of her long right leg, her pretty toes slamming into the side of the unit with enough force to severely dent the metal casing and send the whole mass rocketing away into the emptiness of space.

Turning her attention back to the shiny rectangle she had torn free, Ria rotated it until it was perpendicular to herself, adjusting the panel until she could see her own reflection in its surface. Alone in the cold near-void far above the planet, the daughter of the last Emperor of Prytkon studied the image of her ripe naked body, its perfect natural beauty and the crude, imperfect adornment on her head. Out here, so distant from the planet of her birth, floating above the atmosphere of a brand new world, the crown looked out of place. Somehow, it did not seem, as she had thought it would, a natural adornment. Despite her upbringing, despite what she had for so long believed was her birthright, despite the familiarity of its shape, the headpiece did not look to her as though it unquestionably belonged on her head. It was as though, for some reason, she was not meant to wear it.

And yet, she felt no disappointment looking at her reflection. It was true that destiny, in the form of the rebel uprising on her home planet, had robbed her of the chance to wear the crown of Prytkon as her father had done. But destiny had also gifted her something far more exciting: the unstoppable physical might of a goddess and a whole new planet on which to exercise that might. She required no crowns, be they real or copied, indigenous or alien, to rule this world. What need could she have for mere symbols of power when every molecule of her stunning, flawless body was full of real, unopposable, limitless power?

 

 

"-Are you sure?" General Rogers' anxious tones were addressed to his telephone contact, but they served to interrupt every conversation and train of thought in the carriage, including the President's. The leader frowned as he listened intently to his top military man's next inquiries: "Those things can't move like that by themselves can they? Have you cross-checked with Central on these fig-"

"-General!" This time it was the President's turn to interrupt. The tone and the line of Rogers' questioning unnerved him. The General immediately looked towards the Commander, who wasted no time demanding "What's going on?"

"Sir, we still have a lock on what we believe is the alien," explained Rogers, "but the European satellite is moving away from its orbit out into space at..." He spoke into the telephone mouthpiece "..you're certain about that speed?" and then paused, awaiting an answer, before finally completing his sentence to the President: "...about fifteen thousand miles an hour."

The Commander-in-Chief was not greatly concerned about the movement or location of satellites orbiting over foreign continents. The speed quoted by the General was not noteworthy at that moment. He had other, much more immediate, concerns and he wasted no time voicing them. "And the alien?" he asked. "Where is sh- er, it?"

The General spoke into the phone again. "Is the primary target still holding in its previously reported location?" A second later, he looked up, catching the President's eye and announced, "Yes, sir."

 

 

Hovering miles above a different portion of the globe, Ria was unaware of the men and machines on the surface of the planet that were desperately trying to track her location. Having already released her mirror-like panel to drift in the almost-vacuum, she pulled the improvised crown from her head, the metal tearing like the softest of materials between her all-powerful fingers. Turning the damaged replica over in her hand, she realised that souvenirs of her former home were irrelevant now. She could never return to Prytkon. Its traditions and symbols no longer mattered to her.

She closed her feminine hands over the solid metal coil, crushing it flat in her smooth palms, permanently destroying the fake ceremonial headpiece. Then she tossed it unthinkingly away. Powered by the limitless strength of the discrete muscles in her long, sleek arm, her casual throw sent the deformed lump of metal travelling away from her faster than a comet trapped in the gravity of a giant sun. All thoughts of her birth-planet faded from her mind even before the temporary crown had disappeared from sight.

This new world, with its countless, shiny cities lying helpless at her feet was her home now. Down there, she thought, there were new crowns and jewels and other beautiful objects. A whole planet, just waiting for her to help herself to its treasures. She narrowed her clear brown eyes and scanned the surface of the globe beneath her. Her gaze settled on one of the larger population centres, a city on the edge of a large land-mass. In her former existence, making her selections in the Treasure Room of her father's palace, she would point at a gleaming jewel and announce "I will have that one." Now, a few years older, she looked down on a entire metropolis and silently thought "I will have that one... first."

She could wait no longer. Grinning in excited anticipation, Ria descended through the atmosphere at speeds many dozens of times too great to be measured by any of the tracking devices on the planet. She barely registered the friction that heated her silky skin until it briefly glowed red. Dawn had broken down below, but, for a moment until she began to cool, her incandescent body was visible in the sky as a shooting star. Anyone noticing the light from the ground below might have wondered why the bright dot that had seemed to be falling so rapidly suddenly stopped when it was still as high as a cloud, and why it appeared to hover in the sky, slowly dimming until it was invisible to the eyes of any ground-based planetary native.

 

 

"What?" yelled General Rogers into the telephone. "When?"

The President's face fell once again. He was mid-conversation with the head of his personal security team when, once again, he felt compelled to halt his dialogue-partner half-way through a sentence with a mumbled, monosyllabic apology. "General!" he barked, attracting the military man's attention, "What's happening?"

"Sir," Rogers replied, casting his gaze down to hide his irritation, "We lost her again."

The President's exasperated sigh was heard by everyone in the train carriage. How, he wondered, was he supposed to formulate a response to something that moved so fast, no-one knew where it was most of the time! For all he, or the General and his expensive equipment knew, she could be thousands of miles from her last known position. She could be back at Burpford, or on the White House lawn or even, he realised with a shudder, sitting on the roof of his train... "Where is she?" wondered the Commander-in-Chief. "Goddammit, where is she right now?"

 

Conceptfan, Jan. 2015.

Chapter 9

A drifting cloud had momentarily enveloped her in thick vapour. Even if the hundreds of thousands of pairs of eyes on the ground below had been capable of detecting a girl-sized object from that distance, the thick whiteness would have rendered her unobservable. But Ria's eyes had no difficulty peering through the dense mist, and even less trouble focussing in on the teeming individuals on the surface. Night had yielded and the city beneath her was alive with activity.

She paid little attention to the architecture of the buildings, merely noting, with almost no thought, which structures were the largest and which appeared, by their design, to be important. Compared to the vast, intricate, geometrically-diverse constructions of her home world, even the biggest edifices here were plain and unimpressive. And the interiors, which she could observe floor-by-floor at will from her vantage point, largely failed to capture her interest. She found nothing to resemble the Emperor's Treasure Room back on Prytkon, and nothing that aroused anything more than mild curiosity.

There was much about this strange planet that she did not immediately understand; much for her to learn. But she felt no urgency to find out more about the ways of her new world. She would discover plenty over time. Most likely, she sneered, what she encountered would be utterly uninteresting to her. Perhaps, if some of the alien concepts appealed to her, she might adapt them for her pleasure. Conversely, her immeasurable power would ensure she would not have to tolerate any customs or practices she found displeasing. There was no need, nor desire, on her part to better understand the everyday lives of the creatures teeming below. All that mattered was that they would understand her. And Ria was quite sure that she could make them understand her.

She was already familiar with the way the people of the planet constructed their cities, with clumps of buildings divided up by smooth dark criss-crossing vehicle tracks. The tallest buildings seemed to be clustered towards the centre of the urban area. At the edges, the constructions seemed to be mostly much smaller, petering out into unbuilt-on land, but the vehicle tracks extended outwards from the vast settlement like rays from a star. Clearly these paths were intended to be used for travelling between cities as well as within them.

Ria observed the countless vehicles. The vast majority of them seemed to be heading towards the centre where the bigger buildings were. She had already encountered some of the planet's staggeringly primitive transportation devices. With a clear stretch of track in front of them, they were excruciatingly slow. But here, clogging the complex network of interconnecting paths in and around the city, they were barely moving at all. It was as if there were more machines than the tracks could cater for.

The vehicles seemed to vary in size and colour. Using her remarkable vision, she peered through the roofs of many of them, examining with amused contempt the creatures within, operating the clumsy wheels, levels and pedals that controlled the transporters. Most of the smaller machines had only a single occupant. She spotted some with more than one person inside, and noticed conversations taking place within. Trying to selectively listen in, she found it easy to target and then pick out any two voices from the cacophony of the entire city.

The predominant language was different from the one spoken at Burpford. She tuned into a series of conversations, and discovered that she could monitor two or more dialogues at once. Even she was astonished at how quickly words and phrases became familiar. She realised that there were in fact two main languages being used by the vast majority of speakers. Quickly, she began to grasp the meanings of several of the most frequently-used sounds in both tongues. It was enough for her to dismiss the chattering she overheard as trivial and uninteresting.

Having heard enough of the conversations in the vehicles, she turned her attention to the people on foot. Almost all the vehicle tracks were bordered by pathways clearly intended for pedestrians. Mostly, these were being used by solitary individuals, but there were a few pairs of walkers engaged in dialogue. Just as with the transport machines, the overwhelming majority of those on foot seemed to be heading away from the edges of the city towards the centre. She eavesdropped on some of their interloqutions and rapidly noticed that the subject matter appeared equally as banal as that of the vehicle-users. Rapidly growing bored of these discussions, she looked for something else to study amongst the motorised traffic.

Interspersed with the smaller vehicles were a number of much bigger contraptions. Some appeared to be large containers used for carrying all kinds of objects with a single operator located in a separate compartment at the front. She examined the goods being transported, recognising some as food. Food! She suddenly realised that she hadn't eaten or taken on any nutrients since she'd been forcibly exiled from Prytkon. She expected that thought alone to awaken a sense of hunger. Even Ria, the over-privileged daughter of an Emperor, was familiar with the sensation of an empty stomach. Of course, she had never suffered the feeling for long: on becoming aware of a desire for food, a simple command directed at the nearest Palace servant would result in a meal being laid out for her momentarily.

There would be no shortage of servants on her new planet, either, she thought. Every single inhabitant of this world would become her servant soon enough. But, she noticed, she did not feel any hunger. Her smooth, flat, nubile belly felt as wonderful as every other part of her perfect body. She realised that she would not need to instruct her new servants to bring her food. She simply didn't seem to need to eat to fill herself with energy now. Every molecule of her being was saturated with endless power, despite the fact she hadn't consumed a single morsel in days. She was not surprised by the discovery. She already knew that other functions that had previously been essential to her survival, such as breathing, no longer applied to her. It felt natural that she was now equally exempt from the requirement to ingest nourishment.

Dismissing the big vehicles that contained food as of no relevance to her, Ria searched for similar transporters carrying other types of goods. She soon spotted cargoes of what she assumed were furniture and others that were more alien to her. She could only guess that these might be materials to be used in some type of primitive manufacturing. The loads she peered at looked ugly and mostly filthy. There was nothing about these particular vehicles that managed to hold her attention for long and nothing that she felt needed any immediate further investigation.

However, intermingled with the desperately slow mix of transport machines, there were many examples of another type of big, elongated vehicle which did intrigue her. This type had windows built into the sides, and rows of crude-looking seats within. Ria immediately noticed how the seats in the big vehicles heading towards the centre of the city were almost all occupied, whereas there were many available places in the equivalent machines that were headed in the opposite direction. This discrepancy matched the ratio of smaller vehicles and pedestrians travelling each way. These big transporters, she deduced, were catering for people who, for whatever reason, did not have access to one of the much smaller, private vehicles. It spoke volumes about the physical limitations of the inhabitants of the planet that so many, at least in this particular city, regarded such a ponderous means of transport as the best available. Compared with her, the creatures below were not merely weak and slow. They were powerless and immobile. Conquering them was going to be as effortless as it was going to be enjoyable.

 

 

The Presidential evacuation train roared through the specially-built tunnel. Ingenious design ensured that the racket of the high-speed engine was virtually inaudible inside the huge main compartment, allowing the increasingly uneasy discussion between the Chief-of-Staff and his top military advisor to continue unhindered.

"We do not need another Burpford, General," the leader stated his opinion firmly. "I cannot see any benefit coming from further large scale armed confrontation with the extraterrestrial at this stage."

"But, Sir, we can't just do nothing!" protested General Rogers.

"So what do you suggest?"

"Well, there are other military options available to us, Mr. President."

"I am aware of the weapons under my command, General."

"Sir," interjected a senior aide, his face showing his extreme discomfort with the direction the discussion was taking, "we should not underestimate the potential civilian impact of non-conventional weapons attacks. I do not believe we are yet at the stage of resorting to such desperate measures. We do not know the alien's full intentions or whether the events at Burpford were intended to be a one-time only warning. We don't know if she means any harm to the public, we don't know if she's just on a day-visit, we don't know if sh-"

"Dammit," the President interrupted, slamming his fist down on the desk in front of him to leave no-one in doubt of his exasperation. "I already know how much we don't know! Can none of you people give me some fresh information?"

He turned to the man he'd just interrupted and, his voice calming slightly, addressed him directly: "Paul, I understand your anxiety. But I shouldn't have to remind you that I have a duty to an entire nation and if there's a threat to all its people... in fact, to all the people of the world... then it is my duty to use all means at my disposal to eliminate that threat. Right now, it is my duty to plan for such an eventuality in a unemotional, just manner. And it's your duty to assist me in that task, not to question me!"

"Of course, Mr. President," the chided man conceded.

"General," continued the Chief, turning to Rogers once again. "Would you say we were more likely to solve this problem with a biological or a nuclear attack?"

"I'd say we nuke the bitch," came the undiplomatic reply. "Nothing can survive one of those."

"You said exactly the same about those depleted uranium tipped cannon shells," the President snorted. "She survived those. In fact," the leader's tone became derogatory, "you will recall, she laughed them off."

His commander's evident displeasure forced General Rogers into taking a defensive line. "Mr. President. Sir," he began, his words clipped enough to imply anger, but stopping just short of disrespect, "I think it's safe to say that none of us has ever encountered anything like this before." Point made, he softened his tone. "It... she... just shouldn't be possible... Nevertheless, I strongly believe that we must consider the nuclear option as our next step."

The President did not question Rogers' defence. Nor did he acknowledge it. His voice retained its edge of criticism. "Your men will have to find her first, General. And then we would need her to stay put long enough while we arrange a nuclear strike."

The military advisor was beaten to a reply by a staff aide who had been hovering on the periphery of the exchange for some time. "Not necessarily, Sir. There might be a way we can lure the extraterrestrial to a suitable location of our choosing, away from dense civilian populations, where we can arrange delivery of a nuclear warhead within a very short time-frame."

The Chief of Staff was intrigued by his advisor's train of thought. "And what way might that be?" he inquired.

"Sir, we have to use what little information we have," the explanation began. " 'I give you instructions soon' - that's what she said to you," The President's face flickered as he was reminded of those disconcerting words. Words that were made a million times more chilling by the cold-hearted, systematic massacre that proceeded them.

The aide's attempt at pretending not to have noticed the leader's momentary flinch was poor: "Well, um, let's assume that her plan is to carry out her stated intention in, er, person..." It wasn't clear whether the hesitation accompanying the word 'person' was due to the speaker wondering if an extraterrestrial could be called a 'person' or whether the cause was the idea of the startlingly attractive, naked, young female form that seemed to suggest she was very much indeed a 'person'.

After the brief pause, the aide attempted to recover his flow. "Assuming that it's going to be like that... ah... face... er... to face... I mean... I think it's highly likely that... given her um... ease with travelling... I mean I think she would go to you, sir, rather than have you go to her... What I'm saying is that, chances are, she's going to show up at the White House."

The President looked slightly confused. "Isn't that why we're all on this train?" he demanded. "You're not telling me anything I hadn't concluded for myself half-an-hour ago. What's it got to do with arranging a tactical nuclear strike?"

"Sorry, sir. My suggestion is that we arrange for a member of the Security Service to await her in the Oval Office and if she makes it that far-"

"Given what we all witnessed at Burpford," the Commander-in-Chief interrupted, "I'd say that there's a strong possibility of the alien making it that far."

"Well, Mr. President, if she does, the Agent will tell her that you are waiting for her in the desert some place - Arizona maybe - he'll show her exactly where on a map, and then-"

"-then we detonate a nuclear bomb as she arrives." the President anticipated.

"We could also be standing by with biological weapons," interjected General Rogers, excitedly.

"And," the President inquired, "what if this non-conventional-weapons assault proves as ineffective as your tank-rockets, General?"

Rogers paused for a moment and considered. But he could not think of anything that could succeed where a nuke and nerve-gas strike had failed. "The next call would be yours, sir," he admitted.

The President did not reply out loud. "Here's hoping I won't have to make that next call," he thought to himself. "Please God this nuke-in-the-desert plan works!"

 

 

Since the moment she had suddenly and expectantly appeared in this part of the universe, instantly being exposed to the transforming effects of alien energies, Ria had not encountered any force that could match the power now contained within her beautiful, desirable body. The gravity of a star had failed to challenge her. Instead, she had moved with ease, precisely as she desired, despite its supposedly irresistible pull. The heat of the sun's surface and the vast amounts of radiation spewing forth from within had not caused her any discomfort. Solar flares that could obliterate vast meteorites had engulfed her entirely without leaving even the slightest blemish on her perfect skin. She had exhibited the same, effortless and complete invulnerability under sustained attack from a military's weaponry. And she had overpowered its mightiest engines with utter ease.

And yet, there was a force - a pull of sorts - which could still exert an influence on her. Something which, unlike a star and unlike an army, was powerful enough to overwhelm her. Powerful enough even to dictate her actions.

A force that is capable of controlling a being that could itself defeat the very laws of physics without straining must, surely, be considered the single most powerful force in existence. But no civilisation, no planet, no star could generate that kind of inconceivable might. Such power could only originate from one source: the breathtakingly beautiful former Princess of Prytkon. The sole force that could get the better of Ria was Ria herself.

No external power could challenge her. Only that which came from within: the single mightiest power in existence. Ria's own teenage whims.

Now, the single mightiest power in the Universe had already chosen the city it wanted its beautiful host to conquer. In the clouds above the unsuspecting metropolis, it created a growing sense of anticipation in Ria's mind that rapidly became too much even for her to contain. "Enough observing," she thought, unknowingly conceding defeat to the mightiest power. "Time for action." She could wait no longer. She had to descend to the surface. She had to begin conquering. Now.

In a fraction of an instant, her superhuman, gorgeous bright brown eyes scanned the paths and buildings below, hurriedly looking for an appropriate site to start her conquest. Too excited to delay any further, she decided on the first suitable spot she found: a large, square, open space near the centre of the city. The space, bordered on all four sides by buildings that were grander than most in the town, looked as though it was, in some way, special. A monument of some kind which sprayed water in several arcs, presumably in a primitive attempt at decoration, stood in the centre. There were many pedestrians walking across the area, and the vehicle tracks along each side, between the open space and the buildings, were particularly congested. For whatever reason, this was a place of some significance. She didn't care in the slightest if the reason was geographical, political or other.

There was a typical example of the big passenger vehicles moving - if such slow progress could be called 'moving' - along one of the vehicle paths bordering the space. She counted thirty-one males, including the one at the front operating the controls, and twenty-three females inside. These fifty-four, she decided, would be the first in the city to meet their new ruler.

Ria began her descent from the clouds, her perfect body remaining perpendicular to the on-rushing ground. There was a gap, about two paces long, between the front of her chosen target vehicle and the smaller transporter in front of it. Aiming for the patch of exposed black surface between the two machines, she covered the distance from clouds to ground in the time that the vehicles moved forward a quarter of a stride. She came to a complete, sudden stop, exactly as the undersides of her pretty feminine feet touched the track, right in the path of the big transporter. The phenomenal control and precision she exhibited with her landing was evidenced by the remarkably undamaged surface beneath her soles.

She stood, calm, utterly stationary, slender long arms comfortably by her sides framing her fabulous torso, leaving on display her flawless, flat stomach adorned by her sexy navel and her glorious, big, round breasts, with their perfect, pert, pink nipples. Her lovely feet were planted parallel to each other, and her magnificently-sculptured legs lead straight upwards to her immaculately curved thighs and the neat, alluring patch of dark brown hair on her crotch. Her face, so radiant in its youthful beauty betrayed little emotion. No trace of a smile showed on her closed pouty red lips. Only the sparkling of her bright brown eyes hinted at her inner excitement. Those eyes stared, straight ahead, at the transparent window in the front of the still-moving huge vehicle.

The huge machine had been only a few paces in front of her at the instant she touched down. But that short distance was closing with every moment that passed.

 

 

The President was finding it increasingly difficult to disguise his uneasiness. "How long till we get to the airfield?" he inquired of the nearest member of his personal security team.

"We should arrive in a shade under five minutes, Sir." came the efficient reply. "The crew are ready so we should be airborne inside eight from now. Then it's two hours fifty-five flight-time, plus or minus fifteen minutes depending on the wind."

"Thank you," acknowledged the Leader. Hard, usable information made a pleasant change from what his top military advisor had been supplying.

It was more in hope than expectation that he turned to Rogers and asked "General, I take it there has been no news on the extraterrestrial's location?

"My staff are continuing to scan every sensor reading at our disposal, sir," Rogers dead-panned, well aware of the displeasure his teams' failure would provoke.

"In other words, General," the President surmised, disdainfully, "you currently have no idea of her whereabouts." Making plans without information was far from ideal, but he had no other option. "How soon can you have a plane armed and in the sky above the Nevada desert?"

At last! A question that Rogers could answer with confidence. "Inside fifteen minutes of you giving the order, sir," he stated.

"Consider the order given, General," announced the Chief of Staff. Then, turning to the most senior member of the Security team, he issued his commands: "Instruct the White House staff to evacuate immediately except for key security service personnel. Prepare to carry out the plan as we discussed earlier. Let's just hope we can keep one step ahead of this..."

This was no time for hesitation. But the Leader was suddenly unsure of his next word. How could he best describe the phenomenon they were facing? The solitary being that he and his team were convinced they had to run from... The lone hostile whose apparent indestructibility had lead them to plan a nuclear attack... How could he find the right term for the moment... the right term to keep everyone present - himself included - focussed. 'Mass killer'? 'Ruthless invader'? Certainly not 'sexy naked teenage girl'...

No! No... he had to chase the thoughts of her glorious body from his mind or at least try to push them to one side for long enough to complete his sentence. His prevarication would already be evident enough for the people hanging on his words. They needed a Leader who appeared free of uncertainty, not one whose entire thought-process was under threat from images of feminine perfection... Under threat! That was it! The perfect word...

..."threat." The President finished his statement with a sense of relief. "General," he instructed Rogers with regained confidence, "let me know the instant your men track the extraterrestrial again. There isn't much more we can do until we know where the hell our target is."

"Sir, should we take steps to warn the civilian population?" the unsure voice belonged to a member of the Advisory Committee who had hitherto remained silent.

The Leader turned his head to respond to the question. "And start a panic that could cost thousands of lives? We don't even know yet what the alien's intentions towards the general populace are. The less the people know about all this, the better. Hopefully, we can resolve the entire matter before the public even get to know about it."

 

 

The radio was on, locked as ever to a 'top forty' station, but the bland lyrics of the songs, the witterings of the presenters and the inanities of the commercial breaks were just background noise. Guilleme wouldn't have been able - if he'd been asked - to repeat anything that had just been announced or sung. His mind was concentrated on his work.

There was a particular skill-set required to drive a commuter bus through the centre of a city. This was particularly true during the morning and evening peak hours. As well as the specialist training involved with manipulating any oversized vehicle, rush-hour urban bus-drivers needed great patience both for inching their machines through barely-moving traffic and for dealing with stressed, tired passengers. And, even at such low average speeds, you had to be constantly alert for unexpected dangers such as other drivers' erratic control and sudden stopping or crazy pedestrians running across the road or naked girls appearing from thin air just a few meters in front of your bus...

What the fuck?!? Instinctively, he slammed on the brakes and braced himself. Where the hell had she come from? He'd been watching the road all the time. This chick had appeared instantly from absolutely nowhere. There was so little time between him seeing her just suddenly there and the moment of inevitable impact. The tyres screeched trying to grip the road surface. Behind him, the sound of his passengers being thrown from their seats, briefcases and bags falling, shouts of shock. They were slowing, but not enough. He could see that. His mind seemed to stretch the moments, but despite that, he barely had sufficient time for three thoughts: 'Why isn't she trying to get out of the way?', 'Why is she naked?' and 'She is utterly gorgeous'.

At the last possible moment, he closed his eyes, an instinctive action as his brain sought to protect him from the horrible sight of her fabulous body being smashed and sent flying. He expected to hear a dull thud that would tell him the terrible moment was occurring. Instead, to his utter confusion, he heard a smash as if he'd driven into the side of a building. The whole bus jerked violently, he felt himself being tossed forward and then slamming into the steering wheel and then, immediately, painfully, being pushed back again. The wind-shield yielded and fragments of glass rained down on him like sharp hailstones. He felt cuts everywhere but the sensation in his chest and stomach was far more discomforting. There were screams and crashes from the passengers too. Then shouts and groans. Guilleme tried to blink his eyes open.

Ria was surprised by how soft the big vehicle had seemed as it impacted with her completely unmoving body. She had expected something so big to have been more solid, but the metal of its outer casing had simply yielded to her magnificent curves as the transporter's momentum pushed the front face of the machine into her. The transparent material in front of the driver crumbled and countless shards bounced harmlessly from her beautiful face and neck. Thick sheets of metal bent and folded, screeching in useless protest as her complete invulnerability and total immovability meant the material was forced to accommodate every nuance of the fabulous shape of her torso. The contest was brief; the huge vehicle quickly coming to a stop as it used up all its energy in an utterly futile attempt to disturb any part of her physical perfection in any possible way.

She was still standing in precisely the same spot where she had descended to the surface. But almost her entire body, from her forehead to her ankles, was buried in the misshapen front portion of the vehicle. She could see right through the twisted wreckage that was piled up against her face, noticing with vague amusement how the big circular controller for the vehicle had been pushed backwards on its mounting so that it now pinned the operator tightly against the back of his seat. The briefest glance revealed he had sustained several broken ribs.

She could hear the commotion and panic inside the vehicle and, peering through the battered male at the front, briefly examined the disarray behind him. The collision, whose brunt she had effortlessly borne, had caused the creatures inside to be thrown from their seats, leaving most of them injured to some degree. Quite a few seemed to be badly hurt. She counted three with severe head wounds who were not moving at all. Eight others had bloody faces, six more were groaning in pain from internal injuries. She hadn't planned to hurt them, merely to stop their vehicle. The unexpected chaos amused her, so she paused for a moment to observe it.

Guilleme was in pain. His face stung where dozens of windscreen-fragments had cut his skin. His hands burnt somewhere against his stomach. But the greatest agony was coming from his chest. Attempting to draw breath, he found the process painful and difficult. Too afraid of what he might see if he looked down, he forced his eyes open and stared straight ahead. He was looking through the empty window-frame. About ten meters in front, he saw the unscratched back of the car he had been following when the girl had suddenly appeared. Whatever he had crashed into, it hadn't been that car.

He was certain it hadn't been the girl, either. The impact had felt like he had driven into a solid steel pillar. At the bottom of his field of vision, he could see piled-up, mangled metal from the front of his bus. There was no sign of any pillar. There was no sign of the girl for that matter. Maybe, he thought with a shudder, she had been obliterated in the collision. But he hadn't been going that fast... And what about the mysterious cause of the crash? He had been watching the road all the time! He clearly remembered the gap between himself and the car in front and the girl just seeming to appear in the road right in front of him. Had she disappeared the same way, maybe in the instant before whatever he'd crashed into had appeared before going on to vanish itself? It didn't make any sense!

The pain is his chest was getting worse. He seemed to be finding it harder and harder to breathe as well. Something was pressing hard into his torso, restricting his lungs. Unthinkingly, he tried to push whatever it was away with his hands, but he found he found them pinned between something very hard and unmoving and his stomach. Increasingly concerned for his physical well-being, his mind began to focus away from the mystery of the crash and on to his immediate situation. The fear of suffocation overcame the fear of seeing something unpleasant and he looked down, hoping to spot an escape.

He saw that it was the rim of the steering wheel pushing into his chest, pressing so insistently that it was denting his torso. The front of the bus had been deformed and condensed, forcing the steering column upwards with the result that the big wheel had been forced into him. Suddenly, he could hardly breathe at all. Panic took over. Somehow, he had to get his hands free. He had to extricate them from their position wedged painfully tightly between the compressed wreckage and his stomach. If he could do that, he could reach the lever that would free his seat and allow it to slide back.

He pulled with every gram of strength he could muster. New agonies flashed through his body. He couldn't be certain but he thought his left hand might have moved a few millimetres. The pain was unbearable, but he had to keep trying to free himself. Another pull. Only the shortage of air in his lungs stopped him screaming. But... Yes! His left hand was, unquestionably, moving. His palm burnt. He didn't even want to think about the wounds he was inflicting as he tried to drag his hand over the twisted wreckage. But at least he had hope of escape. Just a few more excruciating tugs on his hand...

 

 

Ria knew that the male who'd been controlling the vehicle could not see her through the crumpled metal that had wadded up and moulded itself around the front two-thirds of her body. Her sparkling, superhuman eyes had no trouble at all viewing the agonised expression on his face. He was barely the length of one of her shapely slender arms from her, separated by a solid mass of bent, compressed transporter. She observed disinterestedly as his painful struggle to free himself became increasingly urgent.

The former Princess of Prytkon had also noticed that way that the big round controller ring was pinning the male so tightly it was almost crushing his chest. The entire mechanism supporting the ring had been pushed towards him by the complete refusal of her magnificent upper-body to yield to the vehicle when it had smashed into her. The metal had tried to dent her perfect curves and failed utterly. Instead, it had bowed, folded up and collapsed in on itself until it couldn't be squeezed any further. But, despite reaching its point of maximum compression, the former front of the big vehicle was still carrying momentum. With its increased density, the newly-formed super-solid lump of mangled metal tried again to flatten her glorious ronditure. Its lack of success was total. Unable to be further condensed, unable to move forwards, the mass of steel had to go somewhere. It had gone backwards, away from the point of impact, pushing the steering column and the wheel fixed on top of it into the male.

If the front of the bus had collapsed just a small fraction more, if the controlling wheel had been forced a tiny bit further back, the creature would have been killed. As it was, he was fighting for his life. Merely the width of her thumb more and the wheel would have been driven fatally into his ribs. Instead, his life had been spared by the minutest of margins.

Ria was faced with a choice. She could effortlessly move backwards and leave him injured but just-about alive or, with the smallest movement of her perfect body in the opposite direction, she could kill him. His very existence was hers to decide. Her power was absolute, and the knowledge of it thrilled her. She could take a step back, removing her unscratched body from the mangled metal and leave the male to fight his way out of his predicament. Or...

She threw her head back, her sexy dark brown hair cascading down her back as she effortlessly pulled her face clear of the compressed metal in which it had been embedded, leaving an imprint of her beautiful features in the wreckage. Slowly she arched her spine, tilting her chin upwards. The huge mass of metal groaned, subjected once again to forces it could not resist as her magnificent big round breasts were thrust forward. The twin spherical indents in the solid material, created by the metal compressing up against her incomparable mounds during the initial collision, grew slightly deeper with the negligible movement of her chest. The entire solid bulk of wrecked vehicle did what it had to in order to accommodate her indomitable torso. It reclaimed the volume it had surrendered to her by moving the big controlling wheel attached to its opposite side.

Ria's sensitive ears picked up the muffled snapping of a few more of the vehicle controller's ribs as well as his stifled yell of agony. Peering through the solid metal obstruction, she saw how the big circular steering device was now pressing into him so tightly it was flattening his lungs and threatening to puncture his flesh. She delighted in the demonstration of her awe-inspiring strength: merely by curving her back she had caused the control wheel to move almost enough to take the man's life! She fixed her gaze on his tortured face; her clear brown eyes seeing through the intervening metal as though it were pure air, observing the male's pain-wracked features with a mixture of anticipatory excitement and conceited superiority.

Nothing that Ria had experienced during her life on Prytkon came close to the electric thrill she was feeling at that moment. Delight, excitement, the tingling fire of arousal and so much more filled her thoughts and her senses. It was the feeling of power. Her power. Everything else stemmed from her endless, unopposable power. The knowledge and certainty of her power, the sensations it brought, the immediate sight and sound of its effects.

 

 

He could not understand it. His hand had been coming free from the wreckage. Slowly, painfully as it scrapped against the mangled metal pushing into him, he had been drawing it out. There were just a few more centimetres to go before it would be free. And then, suddenly, the crumpled bulk that was trapping his hand and, more worryingly, pushing the steering column into him so that the wheel was crushing his chest, moved.

It was a tiny movement, no more than two centimetres. But it was a movement towards him, a movement that pressed the mangled front of the bus hard into his hand, recapturing it securely. He hardly noticed however, as the same shifting of the wreckage forced the steering wheel hard into his torso, breaking a few ribs, and squeezing his lungs so that his yell of pain and panic was strangled. It didn't make sense that there could be motion towards him this long after the initial collision.

Now, he could not move at all. He knew he would not last long with his chest so painfully compressed. His only hope now was a quick rescue. Surely someone would have called the emergency services by now... If he could just hold out until the fire department got there... As long as the steering column did not move any further... As long as it did not press any harder into his agonised torso... He might just make it.

 

 

The girl from Prytkon looked at the pain etched on the face of her latest prey. She could see how close he was to his demise as she examined his wounds to observe just how near the big round controlling wheel had come to crushing him fatally. All it would take was a little further arching of her back, a tiny thrusting of her magnificent round breasts into the destroyed, crumpled metal... Her eyes remained fixed, studying the male she was torturing. Her luscious lips parted, revealing her lovely teeth as they stretched into an arrogant grin.

She moved slowly. She wanted him to have time to realise what was happening. She wanted to see the horror on his face. She began to push her shoulders back, causing her prominent chest to move outwards just a fraction, no more than the width of a few of her hairs. The metal that was so densely packed around her superhuman breasts creaked and it found itself being mercilessly bullied into submission once again. As before, the mangled remains had no choice but to yield. The few hairs' width ceded were reclaimed at the other side of the mass. The male's chest.

That was enough. Enough to panic her helpless victim. His eyes grew huge in terror. For the first time since she had descended to the surface into the path of the now smashed vehicle, her feet moved. With cruel deliberation, she began to lift her heels, raising herself up onto her pretty toes. Raising her body. Raising her glorious breasts. Pushing them against the remains of the front of the contraption, using them to force the wreckage into the body of the male, breaking more of his ribs, then crushing his lungs and even his heart until she could see it had stopped beating altogether.

Delighted with what her magnificent all-powerful body had done, she chuckled. Her body was still deeply embedded in the metal, so the mirthful shaking of her shoulders caused the entire large vehicle to vibrate in response to the movements of her torso. When she observed this newest, unintended display of her power, the chuckle became a full laugh. This, in turn, meant the jiggling of her body became more pronounced. The result of that was that the whole, big, wrecked people-carrier was aggressively rattled, knocking some of the passengers, who had been struggling to stand after the initial impact, off their feet once more. The fresh yells and groans reaching her ears only made her laugh more, bringing on another round of shaking, unbalancing, clattering, impacting, bruising and bleeding inside the stricken vehicle. Merely by laughing at their helplessness she was wounding them! How... funny!

She might have stayed there, laughing and jiggling the big transporter and the people inside for considerably longer were it not for the sharp bursts of noise from the primitive audio notifiers of the other vehicles around her. There were shouts too, of disbelief and shock. People not in vehicles had stopped as they walked by, frozen in their tracks, to stare at her and the destroyed front of the transporter. She decided it was time to offer them a fuller glimpse of her power.

In a single, fluid motion, Ria came down from her toes, tacking a graceful half-step back away from the crumpled metal. The vehicle shuddered noisily, finally freed from its unwilling, intimate embrace of her torso. In the compacted wreckage, a perfect mould of the shape of her other-worldly bust stood testament both to the unyielding superiority and to the glorious desirability of her body. There was a succession of gasps from the ever-growing number of on-lookers as they struggled to comprehend what they were witnessing. But this was only the beginning.

A tiny, casual swing of her pretty left foot brought her toes to the bottom of the front of the wreck with a terrifying clang. Her easy kick transmitted massive force through her dainty-looking toes, enough to wrench the near end of the transporter from the ground, titling the whole vehicle, sending the people inside hurtling towards the back wheels that remained on the surface. There were screams from the crowd either side of her, but only a few from inside the bus. By now, many of the passengers were beyond screaming.

As the front of the vehicle reached the peak of the lift she had imparted, the remains at about the height of her chin, she leant forward, bringing her hands from her sides so she could grab an armful of wreckage as it started to fall back to the ground. Her palms pressed into the metal, compressing it until she had a secure hold, stopping its fall so that the weight of the front portion of the massive machine rested on her slender, shapely arms. The load was effortless for her, even when she began to turn her feminine wrists, twisting the bulk she was carrying and making the remains of the vehicle creak in metallic agony as she ignored the poor leverage of her positioning to raise the rear portion from the ground.

Now she held the whole massive thing in the air, not above, but directly in front of her, at arms' length. The feat of strength and balance drew more screams and gasps from the numerous banks of clustering onlookers. Many started to run, others seemed to be edging away as they stared. The vehicles all around had come to a halt. She could hear doors opening as people got out, either to stand and stare or to run. There were collisions too, both between pedestrians and also vehicles on the periphery of the scene.

Ria was still standing on the smooth black track intended for motorised devices. All around her was chaos apart from the big, battered transporter vehicle which remained motionless, suspended in the air, held perfectly by her pretty hands. Whilst most were hurrying directly away from her, one male came running along the lighter coloured, slightly raised surface that lay between the vehicle track and the buildings on her left. He stopped when he was a distance of six paces from her flank. His co-ordinated outfit reminded her of the clothes worn by some of the men from Burpford and she assumed he was a member of some kind of civil authority. That assumption was validated when the new-arrival removed a tiny weapon from his belt, and, holding it with both hands, pointed the undersized barrel at her disinterested face. In the brief time she had studied the city before beginning her assault, she had learnt enough of the local languages to understand his shouted words: "Put it down or I'll shoot!"

For a few moments, she stared straight ahead at the stricken vehicle in her hands, completely ignoring the command. She even let the male carry out his threat. She allowed him to activate the trigger on his weapon three times, not moving, not even blinking, as the trio of puny pellets floated towards her.

She was standing in profile to her attacker. The first shot struck her left cheek, crumpling to a disc before bouncing away. The next pinged loudly from her smooth bare shoulder, deforming against her silky skin so that it spun wildly as it ricocheted away. The final little metal projectile tried to bury itself into the inviting perfection of the outer curve of her left breast. It failed entirely, rebounding from her, flattened and defeated, without even momentarily denting her feminine glory. None of the three impacts left even the tiniest mark on her naked flesh.

Ria permitted her assailant a few moments, to allow his slow brain to process the shock of her invulnerability. Still, she did not deign to turn her face towards him. Satisfied that long enough had passed for bewilderment to take hold, she casually swung her arms to the side, causing the big transporter to match her movement, the massive machine lurching through the air. Towards the end of the modest swing, she removed her hands from the crumpled metal she had been gripping and let the vast momentum imparted by the superhuman strength of her long, shapely arms carry the transporter.

The big vehicle rocketed away from her, sideways-on. There was no time for the uniformed shooter to react. In an instant the battered transporter had passed right through where his torso and head had been, its angled trajectory unaffected by the gory obliteration. The bodies inside the machine bounced off the ceiling and the walls and each other as the giant device arced from Ria's grasp. It was still rising, turning slightly in flight when it slammed, with a clang that shook the air, its roof face-on, into the second-storey of a four-floored building. There was a tinkling of windows breaking, then a sound like low thunder. The ruins of the vehicle crashed down to the street, making the ground tremble and cracking the stone surface. It was closely followed by a rain of small bits of rock-like material that had been smashed from the front of the edifice. Then, the destroyed transporter exploded, a huge ball of orange then yellow flame roaring from the wreckage, quickly blackening at the edges. A low rumble made itself heard above the blare of burning vehicle. A few moments after that, the rest of the damaged building collapsed, vast quantities of its stony materials pouring down, burying the exploded machine under a hill of rubble, the debris spilling out onto the vehicle track around Ria's dainty ankles, filling the air with thick dust.

She could see the wounded on the edges of the collapse as they crawled and staggered around blindly, choking on the dense, dirty air, their vision reduced to near zero by the countless airborne particles of building that blotted out the sunlight. Her own eyes had no trouble viewing the scene, observing the bodies among the rubble, the badly hurt survivors and the few less wounded making pathetic, clumsy attempts at fleeing despite their inability to see or breathe in the swirling dust.

The vehicles nearest her had been abandoned, the doors left open as the occupants had bolted. The drivers of some of the more distant machines had tried to redirect their transporters, resulting in a number of minor collisions which had brought the traffic for some distance all around her to come to a complete halt. More and more people were leaving their vehicles, clambering out confused as they were met by people yelling and hurrying away from the scene. As the cloud of dust spread, reducing visibility and clogging lungs over a wider and wider area, so did the mixture of bewilderment, shock and panic. People clattered into each other, some desperately trying to help others, some equally frantically shoving aside their fellow citizens in their wild scramble for self-preservation.

In the distance, a growing number of crescendoing, oscillating sounds could be heard. Ria peered through the smoke, dust and buildings and saw that these noises belonged to various liveried vehicles, no doubt some sort of civil emergency response. The wailing sounds they produced mingled with the screams of the injured and the terrified but there was no chance, she realised, of any of those vehicles getting through the solid lines of abandoned transporters that surrounded her. She grinned, immensely pleased with the scale of the destruction and chaos she had so effortlessly wrought.

Directly in front of her, was a space of open vehicle track, where the giant transporter had been before she'd lifted it up and tossed it aside as though it were no heavier than a small piece of cloth. With an unstable, smoking hill of rubble blocking the pedestrian pathway that ran alongside, and the rest of the track occupied by abandoned vehicles, it was the only free ground in the immediate vicinity. Ria strolled calmly along the empty stretch of track, the ruins of the collapsed building to her left, ignoring the cloud of thick black smoke that was pouring from the huge pile of debris.

A middle-aged man, the clothing on his arm tattered and soaked in blood that was still oozing from an exposed, deep and long gash in his flesh, staggered unwittingly across her path, his eyes half-shut against the acrid fumes. A lazy, dismissive gesture of her left forearm was enough to lift him from his feet and send him hurtling, airborne but almost parallel to the ground, fifteen paces from her side until he impacted with the massive heap of rubble, disappearing as a small landslide of building-fragments trickled down over him.

By then she had reached the end of the small clearing she had made. Left of her, was the huge mound of debris containing the freshly entombed male she had waved away a moment before. In front of her and on her right side were stationary, unoccupied vehicles of the kind that could carry only four or five passengers. She opted for the one to her right, not breaking her fluid stride as she approached it and drove the bridge of her left foot into its underside. The clank of impact was still ringing out as the empty machine lifted from the ground, spinning end-over-end. Her delicate-looking toes imparted sufficient force to send the transporter soaring as high as the third storey of the surviving surrounding buildings.

The small transporter came down, thirty paces from where it had started, front-first onto the roof of one of the big, square goods vehicles, caving in the top of the impacted machine before the two newly-unified transporters erupted in a new fireball that spewed a dozen chunks of torn, twisted and charred metal in all directions. People who had been sheltering between empty vehicles were forced to abandon their hiding places as pieces of debris rained down, eliciting fresh cries of panic. The terrified stragglers ran in every conceivable direction, some covering their heads with their arms against the falling wreckage, others glancing nervously behind themselves as they tried to flee.

Ria paid no attention to the chunks of metal raining down as she strolled off the vehicle track onto the big open square pedestrianised space it bordered. A sharp piece of burning steel crashed down onto her invulnerable skull, bouncing noisily from her, displaying a fresh new dent as it eventually fell for a second time onto the ground with a clang. A woman screamed as she leapt out of its path, crashing into a young man who had been running past. The collision tripped the male and he fell into the female, knocking them both onto the ground. The tangled pair rolled with the momentum of their fall, into the former princess' path, finishing just a few steps in front of her.

The young man had only just began recovering his feet, drawing himself onto his knees as Ria's fluid stride carried her alongside. Only then did the stricken couple realise her position relative to their own, the male's eyes growing huge with shock, the female screaming with terror. The tardiness of the two reactions was matched by their inadequacy as the naked alien bent low, mid-step, her small hand swooping, grabbing the male by his left upper-arm, her pretty fingers clasping his bicep with a crushing, unbreakable grip. In a single, graceful movement, she hoisted him up with her single hand, lifted him from the ground and tossed him over her shoulder without a second glance. He shot away from her, his lips still forming a cry of fear and pain, his limbs flailing helplessly until he hit the pile of rubble some twenty paces behind her. The impact of his fragile flesh and bones on the hard, sharp, compacted ruins was unsurvivable, and his body slid down the lower slope of the hill, dislodging a trickle of debris until it collapsed into a dust-covered heap at the bottom.

By then, Ria had taken another two steps. Now, she found her path blocked by a tall metal pole that had been fixed into the ground. Glancing up and down its considerable height - maybe four times her own - she noticed how it curved at the top where it housed what she quickly deduced was some kind of primitive light-emitting contraption. The whole set-up, she assumed, was meant to cast illumination over the vehicle track and adjacent walkway during the hours of darkness. To the superhuman eyes of the girl from Prytkon, both the technology and the design of the contraption were breathtakingly primitive.

Moments before, she had scooped up and disposed of a fully-grown man without breaking stride or even turning her beautiful face momentarily towards him. By comparison, her brief, contemptuous study of the metal pole and its attachments was a lavishing of attention. She found that the base of the pole, where her hand went to grab it, was considerably greater in diameter than the male's arm had been. But, as she closed her fingers, deforming the thick metal tube to obtain a better grip on it, the dense material felt no less soft than the man's flesh had done.

The pole screeched as she squeezed it in her hand until she was satisfied that she had a firm hold. Then, with the easiest tug of her arm she tore it from the ground. It had been set in some kind of rocky material buried beneath the slabs of the surface. Cracks radiated in all directions from the edges of the hole she had ripped in the paving. A cable which ran under the ground and up into the pole itself was torn in half as she lifted the metal from its station, showering her slender ankles with countless electrical sparks, none of which left any mark on her flawless skin. She had pulled with so much force that the block of material in which the pole had been fixed was still attached to the base. The stony chunk was large and dense enough to double the weight of the whole contraption as she lifted it with her single, petite hand but her single shapely arm did not register any strain. Five large, fit men would have struggled to momentarily raise the bottom end of the pole with its extra rock-like attachment off the ground. Yet Ria's sleek, subtle, feminine muscles bore the mass with complete ease.

She could have held the pole out in front of her like some kind of oversized staff for the rest of time without tiring, so vast was her strength and so limitless her stamina. Instead, she turned her tiny wrist and the power contained within her seemingly-delicate forearm imposed its unstoppable will, making the whole contraption pivot at her grip until she was holding it at right-angles to her stunning body, the curved end containing the illuminating part now some ten paces in front of her, and the still-attached stony block half a step behind her.

 

 

Laura watched the incredible scene from her vantage point lying on the pavement. When she had run into that poor young man and they had tripped over each other, rolling towards the terrifying, apparently superhuman girl they'd both been fleeing, she had feared the worst. When she saw the young exhibitionist scooping up her fellow faller as if her were weightless, tossing him away like a crumpled ball of paper, she put her face to the concrete, desperate not to be noticed, and began to pray silently. The next few moments had felt like an eternity. But no hand came to pick her up and throw her.

Eventually, she dared to lift her head enough to take a look. To her relief, Laura saw that the terrifying nude girl had walked past her and was now a couple of meters away, her attention seemingly occupied by a lamppost. She felt her hopes for survival beginning to grow. Then the bitch had ripped the post out of the ground as though she were plucking a flower. Laura watched in stunned terror as the young woman adjusted her grip until she was holding the detached street-light like a giant lance. The concrete blob in which it had been set was still attached to the base. She barely had time to notice when the rough chunk of solid cement started to move. The scream that began to form in her throat as she saw it swinging towards her never found voice.

 

 

With the big pole comfortably in her hand, Ria decided to put it to use. She could hear the scared breathing and the thumping heart of the woman on the ground a few paces behind her with such precision that, without bothering to look, she knew exactly where the female's head was. The tiniest movement of her wrist swung the giant metal tube in her hand, the front end sweeping in front of her, making a loud swooshing sound as it carved through the air. The pedestrians who would have been within reach of the curved end of the pole had already evacuated the area, otherwise the sweep of the metal tube would undoubtedly have taken more lives. As it was, the far lesser movement of the portion of post behind her was precisely enough to bring the stony block attached to that end into full and instantly fatal contact with the woman's skull.

The second thud that Ria heard, after the contact of block and skull, was that of the female's lifeless corpse impacting the ground.

Now, she was done with the big metal pole. She wondered if there might be one final use for it and cast her bright brown eyes imperiously over the open space in front of her. The ground appeared to have had been completely abandoned. But as she lifted her gaze slightly, she saw that the windows of the buildings all around were full of stunned spectators. In some places, especially where the panes of transparent material were smaller, there were individuals staring at her, but behind some of the larger windows, small crowds were jostling for a view. Ria found herself delighted to have an audience. She resolved to ensure that she would remain the centre of attention.

The former princess began turning her dainty wrist once more, raising the big metal pole in her unbreakable grasp towards its original, vertical, orientation. She failed to notice that the laws of leverage were against her as she easily manoeuvred the heavy tube, not needing to use her free hand at all as she first turned it upright and then brought her hand towards her body, aligning the post with the centre of her torso. Carefully, she pushed the tube between her big, round breasts. Her cleavage was not wide enough to accommodate the full girth of the pole. As she continued to press it towards herself, it was quickly obvious that her magnificent mounds would not be ceding to the thick metal. With the immense pressure she so effortlessly generated with her hand bearing down, the post itself had to yield to the fabulous contours of her chest, groaning as it deformed to fit between the alien girl's glorious bosoms.

Ria pushed the big tube mercilessly into her cleavage until she was satisfied that it was completely wedged. Once she had achieved this, she removed her hand from the pole completely and briefly let it hang casually by her side. The tall, heavy post stayed in position as she did so, held fast by her beautiful bosoms. She planted her hands on her shapely hips, her fabulous chest thrust towards her audience. A section of the tall metal contraption had been pinched to half its normal width by her unyielding, otherworldly curves as her stunning breasts effortlessly and proudly, even boastfully, supported the huge weight.

Ostentatiously, she swivelled slowly at the waist, her hands remaining on her hips as she turned her glorious body first to the left, then to the right and then back to centre. The huge pole moved with her, the illumination part swishing through the air high above her, the crushing grip of her chest exerting total control as she showed off her feat to the amazed observers in the windows around her. She could hear the gasps of amazement, of awe, of terror and of lust from behind the dozens of windows around the three sides of the square clearing where the buildings were still standing. Her supremely sensitive ears could distinguish the mixture of emotions within each sharp intake of breath and she revelled in the reaction.

Without conscious thought, her fingers began to slide from her hips, slowly caressing her flat, smooth belly, both hands moving inwards towards her deep, sexy navel. Her fingers continued their leisurely migration, tracing along her perfect skin, now descending until her hands met as her fingertips brushed the top of her perfect groin. Her forearms were now touching the outer curves of her chest. She could feel the contrast between the strength of her own arms barely making contact with the outer parts of her breasts and the weakness of the thick metal pole jammed between the inner parts and the dual sensation thrilled her.

Still acting on almost dream-like instinct, she began to bring her arms together, hugging her chest, pushing her big breasts towards each other, transmitting unfathomable amount of force through each of her fabulous round mounds. The inner curves of her bosoms, pressed against the metal tube, retained their perfect shape even under the unstoppable pressure of her pleasurable squeezing. Instead, it was the pole that had to change shape. Helpless to resist the power of her body, it gave out a tortured squeal as her breasts pinched it ever thinner. And then, the metal reached the point where it could not be compacted any further. Still, she continued to hug herself, closing the space between her bosoms, increasing the pressure in her glorious cleavage until the trapped squashed metal began to heat, becoming red hot, then yellow then white. Then, an instant before her breasts finally touched together, it surrendered entirely, its atoms desperately escaping her impossibly sexy, crushing power by splitting away as minute particles of gas.

Ria came out of her reverie just as the pole was severed completely in two by her chest. The lower half, with its rocky blob still attached, fell towards her feet. She bent her right leg, lifting its toes up to meet the lump of stony material, volleying it upwards and away from her. It spun rapidly through the air, precisely along the trajectory she had chosen in the instant before applying her apparently-casual kick. She had targeted a third-floor window which was about seventy paces away from her in a direct line. The small group of onlookers crowded around the large transparent pane had only just started to dive away as the broken pole crashed through. Those fortunate enough to avoid the flying metal pole and the big chunk of rock stuck to it, were showered in sharp shards of transparent material.

Meanwhile, the top half of the post, no longer held by her body, had begun to topple like an axed tree. Her right hand came up to catch it before it could tilt too far, her fingers severely denting the metal where they gripped. Without looking, Ria flicked her wrist, releasing the pole to her side. It flew from her, about ten degrees short of vertical, its flightpath an almost straight line away from her flank, barely rising as it travelled at remarkable speed until it hit the side of a previously undamaged building. The metal crashed through the stony facade, pieces of displaced material cascading down to a growing pile on the ground from the edges of the new hole. Still, the post's momentum was not spent, and it carved a rough vertical channel along a few paces' worth of the division between the second and third floors of the edifice, sending debris flying in all directions as it ploughed through. Inside the two affected storeys of the building, dust and debris choked the panicked inhabitants. Despite the distance, the girl from Prytkon had no difficulty hearing the terrified shriek of a woman as she screamed "Oh god! He's dead! They're both dead!" Ria grinned. She had not even bothered to pick a particular target for her throw.

Around the large square area, the observers in the windows were now beginning to move back into the rooms behind. Some appeared to be running. Her beautiful brown eyes sparkled as she looked right through the front of the buildings, seeing how many of the people inside were rushing down staircases, heading for exits that lead not to the open space where she was, but out onto streets on the other side of the surrounding constructions. No-one was coming out of the doors immediately around her. The ground in front of her was now devoid of life, anyone with the ability to still move having now fled. She could see the flow of people on the far side of the adjacent building.

Ria was surprised by the lack of people in her vicinity. Did all of them really believe they could flee without surrendering to her? She resolved to show them otherwise. Casting her eyes over her surroundings, she chose the building which still held the largest number of occupants and began to walk determinedly across the abandoned urban clearing towards it.

 

 

They were nearly at cruising altitude, headed north towards what the public believed was a long-abandoned airstrip in the wilds of Alaska. None but the most trusted government workers knew of the secret base deep under the ground beneath the runway where they would be landing in a few hours. It had been constructed, decades earlier, to cater for a Class 1 National Emergency, but no-one involved in its construction or upkeep over so many years could ever have imagined the actual nature of the present emergency. They might have envisaged a leader escaping a massive thermonuclear bombardment, or perhaps an out-of-control pandemic of some horrendous disease, but not a single, unarmed, naked, young girl from the stars.

Through the jet's windows, nothing but night-time cloud could be seen. The Chief of Staff stared out at the impenetrable darkness for a moment. On the desk in front of him lay a series of documents, each in its colour-coded folder, indicating its level of secrecy and the access level required to view it. There were military reports detailing the lost squadron of fighter jets and the attack on Burpford and National Emergency Procedure documents, detailing plans for evacuation of individual towns and cities as well as entire regions and there were contingency plans for unexpected battle both on home soil and abroad. He had read, briefly, through each and every file. But there was nothing that had given him any fresh insight into the situation he was faced with. The leader knew he had to make key decisions - huge decisions - in the next few minutes, and he was having to make them based on precious little information. If only they knew a little more! Just a few extra facts to guide his judgement. What did the alien intend? And, above all else, where the hell was she?

"Sir," the voice of one of his most trusted Security advisers interrupted his thoughts, "I have confirmation that the evacuation of White House staff is almost complete. The Security Service personnel are now in place."

"That's good work," commented the leader. "Pass them my thanks. Keep me updated on any further developments. It's imperative that we can convince the extraterrestrial threat to go to those exact co-ordinates in Nevada. The future of the world depends on it."

No sooner had the Security man nodded in acknowledgement when the familiar call of "Mr. President!" announced that General Rodgers was hurriedly walking over from his seat in a separate part of the plane.

"What is it, General?"

"Sir, we think we know where she is."

The President wasn't sure if he should be scared or relieved. But he was sure how to find out which was the most appropriate. "Where?"

"Barcelona," Rogers answered. "In Spain. A building has collapsed, a bus and some cars have been destroyed and local police and media are getting hundreds of desperate calls about a naked girl killing people. Our people are on their way to the scene to verify."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed the Chief of Staff as he realised the implications of the location. This was not some isolated military base. "We can forget about the general populace remaining in the dark," he voiced. "This will be all over the world's TV screens within 5 minutes." Now, he knew he had no choice but to resolve the whole matter as quickly as possible. General, is that plane ready over Nevada?"

General Rodgers glanced momentarily at his wristwatch. "It'll be in position in two minutes, sir."

"Good. General, inform your colleagues that they need to be ready to launch Operation Back Yard at my command."

Operation Back Yard, outlined in one of the documents lying on the table before him, was the latest version of a plan to evacuate the populations of all the major cities and urban centres in the United States and to disperse those populations in the surrounding areas. It was designed for deployment when an all-out incoming nuclear attack was imminent, with the aim of shaving a few million off an already-unavoidable death-toll.

"Operation Back Yard, sir?" Rodgers queried. "With all due respect, the alien isn't even currently on US soil..."

"And by the time she is it may be too late, General. It's my decision and I say we get ready for Back Yard. I need constant updating on progress."

"Yes, sir." Rodgers knew how to respond to an order.

"Let me know the second you get anything from any source in Spain, whether it's ours or anyone else's."

"Of course, sir," promised General Rodgers.

"God help us all," muttered the President.

 

 

Ria had covered the sixty paces to the building she had selected at a steady, leisurely pace, giving time for the few remaining faces at the windows to read her direction and then spread further panic and terror once it became clear that she was heading towards them. Shouts of "She's coming this way!" and "Everybody out the back!" reached her ears through the intervening walls and air. She could see the chaos within as a stream of people filled the stairways, jostling to pass through a tiny exit that was located at the far end of a narrow corridor.

Only about half of the crowd had made it through the exit by the time Ria had walked over to the front of the building. She chose to ignore the large, ornate double doors that were slightly to her right, opting instead to approach the wall beside them and, with a simple kick of her pretty bare foot, to smash a rough hole right through it. Bits of material burst out from the point of impact, into the building, catching some of the people struggling to get to the rear exit, causing wounding and panic in equal measure. Ria marched through the new aperture, hardly adjusting her stride, her face smashing through the thick external wall where the hole she'd kicked proved slightly too low, debris flying from her beautiful features, to the sound of terrified screams mingling with groans of pain.

There was a line of people who had been waiting to access the narrow corridor that lead to the far exit. Ria's sudden entry sent them into renewed panic, some trying to force their way into the crowd blocking the narrow passage that lead out to the street behind the building, others trying to make their way back towards the stairs, their path obstructed by still more still heading down. A few seemed to be frozen where they stood, staring in shock as she advanced, her calm, graceful movements a direct contrast with the chaos. With a sweep of her arm she swatted three grown men off their feet, sending them sailing into an interior wall where they impacted with a series of sickening damp crunches.

A young woman who was standing nearby began to scream. Ria took a step towards her and silenced her shriek by taking a tight, but not yet fatal, grip of the terrified female's neck. "Let her go!" cried a middle-aged overweight male, trembling as he approached, selflessly trying to protect the captured woman. The girl from Prytkon rewarded his bravery by taking an identical hold of his neck. Then she hoisted the pair off their feet, holding each of them by the throat at the end of one of her long, slender outstretched arms. She gave them both a tiny shake that made their limbs flail.

Ria bent her left arm, bringing the young woman's horror-filled face towards her own. Her brief exposure to the local language was not yet sufficient to have developed a perfect command, but she felt confident that she would be understood.

"Say me where is the commander of this territory!"

The dangling woman moved her lips but no sound emerged. Realising that her gentle hold was enough to prevent all attempts at speech, Ria opened her fingers very slightly, fractionally loosening her grip on the female's neck so that she could talk.

"What?" she spluttered.

By jiggling her dainty wrist Ria was able to violently shake the woman, making her arms and legs fly about as if she were nothing more than a child's toy. The female screamed. Ria stopped shaking her and repeated her demand. "Say me where is the commander of this territory!"

"I.. I don't understand what you wa-" spluttered the terrified woman. A tiny clenching of Ria's fingers crushed the fragile neck in her grasp, silencing her forever with a horrific crunch. The girl from Prytkon manoeuvred the corpse in her left hand alongside the still-live male hanging from her right hand. Once she had let the male take a good look, she tossed the dead woman away and pulled the trembling man towards her gorgeous face. The sweat from his forehead mixed with fresh tears from his eyes and soaked his fat cheeks.

"Say me where is commander of this territory or I make you also dead," she informed him, coldly.

"C..C...Commander?" stammered the male.

The movement of Ria's fingers was barely perceptible but the crunch of the bones in the fat man's neck collapsing beneath the pressure exerted by her dainty, feminine digits was unmistakable. As was the way his head flopped horribly to the side.

She disposed of the body with a casual flick of her hand and announced to the panicking, sobbing, shaking crowd: "I will make dead all peoples until one people says me where is the commander of this territory!"

 

Conceptfan, Feb. 2015.