So, I had my three experiment-subjects hanging from their wrists in an abandoned parking garage.
I'd lured them there because I fancied testing my newly-discovered precision-control over my heat-vision.
As I faced them, the one on the left was unconscious. His right leg, severed just below the hip, lay on the concrete beside him. I'd managed to perform the amputation while he was still wearing his trousers without damaging the vulnerable material. Meanwhile, the one on the right was conscious, but silent because I'd fried his vocal chords. I'd done that avoiding leaving even the subtlest red mark on his external skin.
That left the centre male. He'd not had the honour of being experimented upon yet but despite that, he was whimpering and struggling to get free of the overhead metal piping that I'd wrapped around his wrists. As I looked him up and down, I couldn't help the superior sneer on my face. Even if he had possessed the same fabulous powers as I do, as a mere male, he'd still have been inferior. As it was, he possessed less than a millionth of my strength and none of the other wonderful abilities that are second nature to me. In power terms, he was like a speck of dust facing an entire universe. A breath-takingly beautiful, devastatingly sexy universe.
I set my X-ray vision to work. Now I was scanning the interior of his body. I could see all the vulnerable, fragile bits of his anatomy; all the places I could experiment with my heat-rays. I felt like a child who's just walked into a sweet-shop with a fistful of money. In fact, I even caught myself unthinkingly licking my lips.
Something about the way I looked must have set the alarm bells in the middle male's head ringing anew. "P-P-Please don't hurt me!" he begged, nervously, frantically pulling at his trapped wrists.
I didn't bother to look up at his face as he spoke. Just at that moment my eyes alighted on a particular part of him and my rich, full, deep red lips stretched out into a smile. I knew what my next experiment was going to me. I blinked my vision back to normal and finally turned my face to his.
"I want you to do something for me," I said, softly, with a grin.
"Anything!" he yelled. "Anything!"
I coquettishly bit my lower lip, as though I had suddenly become shy. Then I took a couple of steps towards him until I was directly in front of him, just two feet away. "Here's what I want you to do," I said, letting my voice drip femininity. I leant my head towards his, until my nose was almost touching his and breathed "I want you to get hard."
The proximity of my gorgeous face and my lovely warm scented breath washing over him meant that my wish was already half-fulfilled by the time I'd finished announcing it.
Keeping my lips oh-so-close to his I continued to exhale erotically "That's good. Now harder. Yes, that's right."
I moved back a little for a moment. Just far enough to allow me to pull my T-shirt over my head and drop it behind me. Of course, I wasn't wearing a bra. I never do. My big, heavy, round breasts are superhumanly firm and stand arrogantly high on my chest in a manner befitting their glorious perfection... without the need for any support. I almost burst out laughing at the involuntary gasp their exposure drew from my test-subject. In a single beat of his heart, he went from semi-erect to almost fully upright. After that, it took only the merest side-to-side swaying of my irresistible bosoms to get his organ completely aroused.
He wasn't looking at my face at all, so he never saw the two red beams as they shot from my pupils. He did feel their effect, however, as I focussed them on my chosen spot.
"Aargh! Ow! What are you doing to me?"
I shut off the lasers. "Can't you feel?" I asked.
"It hurts!" he winced. "Inside! It still hurts!"
"Of course it does," I explained. "I've warmed your sperm. You're being slightly burnt from the inside out. I'll heat them some more and maybe you'll be able to feel more clearly."
"No! No! Please no!" he yelled.
"Uh-uh," I warned him. "I said I wanted you to be hard. All that shouting might make your little penis go floppy again." I leant in, moving my torso from left to right so that my large, hard nipples rubbed him aggressively through his shirt. "That's more like it," I observed as the contact had an immediate, predictable effect. "Now, where were we... Ah, yes. Warming your sperm some more."
I leant back and narrowed my eyes once more. "Aaagh! Agggh! Ow! Ow!" There were tears in his eyes.
"Nice and hot," I commented. "And it should all stay hot in there for quite a while."
He looked at me, his eyes full of pain and fear. I grinned back. "What do you think we should do?" I asked, pretending to be interested in his opinion. "Should we leave it in there where it is to burn you slowly or should we get it out? Of course, getting it out will burn you all the way up... Yes. Let's do that."
I laughed. "You can't stop it," I pointed out. I put my face against his once more, our lips almost touching. "I'm too sexy for you, aren't I?" I leant in, until our chests met. "You just can't resist." I arched my back, letting my breasts press into his body. "I'm more than you could ever dream of," I stated. "More than you can handle."
I started to rub my chest lightly across his torso and felt his every fibre tensing. "Oh, sure, you'd like to resist," I continued, "but you can't. Even though you know it's going to hurt so badly. You can't even control your own body."
"N-N-N-" as protests go, his stuttered effort was weak, even for a man.
"No, you can't, can you?" I taunted, continuing to caress his chest with my beautiful large naked breasts. "You can't control your body. But I can. I'm controlling it completely. Aren't I? I can make it do whatever I want. And I want it to orgasm. So it will. You can't do a thing about it. You'll cum at the very instant I decide."
To prove I was right, I let him know when that instant had arrived. "Cum now," I commanded, pressing my bosoms into him just a tiny bit harder.
"Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhhh!" His eyes shut. His head flew back. Violent spurts of almost-boiling hot cum shot from his testicles, scorching their way into his shaft and all the way along it to emerge in steaming jets from the rapidly-reddening tip of his penis.
I moved quickly back, to observe him better and to make sure none of the hot sticky mess accumulating at the crotch of his trousers got on me. I laughed and laughed as each new involuntary spasm brought him a fresh wave of agonies. Steam rose from his groin. Tears fell from his cheeks.
Sadly, all too soon, my test subject passed out from the pain. As I got my own hysterics under control and stopped laughing, I bent down to scoop up my T-shirt and pulled it back on. Then I turned my back on the three males and started to walk away.
I stopped when I was about ten yards away and looked over my shoulder. Only the rightmost one was conscious, so it was him I addressed. Mindful of the fact I'd forever robbed him of the ability to speak, I told him "When the other two wake up, write them a note saying that if any of you ever tell anyone what happened here I'll roast all three of you slowly from the inside out."
A quick blast of heat-vision over the right-hand male's face burnt him bright red. Dozens of blisters began to appear all over his features whilst his mouth opened as if in a scream, although, of course, no sound emerged.
"Looks like you fell asleep under a sunlamp," I told him. "You should get some cream for that."
I gave him a parting wink and left.
Wednesday 2 May 2007 17:31 BST (GMT+1)
The sun has been out a lot lately in my home town.
It always amuses me to see how uncomfortably hot ordinary people get when the ambient temperature rises by a few degrees. Suddenly, they canít wear many clothes. They have to drink all the time. They sweat. And yet, if it was a mere twenty degrees Celsius cooler, theyíd be piling on the thick coats and shivering.
Compare that ridiculously delicate fragility with me:
Last night, I went for a little outing. Just an hourís travelling, under my own incomparable power. No noisy, dirty, inefficient, weak engines for me! I just take off and fly. Sixty minutes of effortless soaring took me beyond Earthís atmosphere, into space and beyond the orbit of Mars.
Of course, thereís no point wearing clothes when going into space as they tend to burn off as I go through the atmosphere. So, these days, I just fly naked. The friction heats my skin to thousands of degrees, but it feels quite comfortable to me. Likewise, out in the almost-vacuum of the cosmos, where temperatures are below minus two hundred, I donít feel any kind of chill.
Sometimes, I wonder what it must be like to be uncomfortably hot or cold. Iíve submerged myself in a furnace full of molten steel and Iíve dived headlong into the raging fury of the sun, but both of those experiences were nothing more than a little warm. And when Iíve been beyond the edge of the solar system where the sunís warmth canít reach, I only felt a vague, but far from unpleasant, coolness.
But I still have no idea how ordinary people feel walking about on a sunny day.
Somehow, seeing them puffing and perspiring, I donít feel Iím missing out on anythingÖ
Wednesday 9 May 2007 17:19 BST (GMT+1)
Well, I've had an interesting week.
I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.
Thursday 10 May 2007 23:49 BST (GMT+1)
Well, I must start this post by congratulating myself.
This week, I pulled off probably the greatest hoax ever. Using my fabulous powers I succeeded in tricking some of the supposedly cleverest men on Earth. Of course, the cleverest male that ever lived would be no match for my superhuman mind. I'm just that superior...
Anyway, here's what I did:
It all started at the end of last week. You can imagine the picture of my narrative going all wavy now for a moment as we go to "flashback"...
I was moon-bathing on the roof of my house. That's to say, I was lying naked, my perfect body stretched out, looking at the stars. And that's when I thought of my little joke.
Without bothering to stand, I remained horizontal as I floated up off the roof. Then I leisurely rolled over in mid-air and propelled myself like a rocket (but quieter, faster and so much sexier) into the sky. Forty seconds later I swooped down, faster than an incoming missile, on a building site. I dived straight for a pile of steel girders, leading with my outstretched right arm. My fingers were balled into a fist which I slammed into the top of the stack.
My dainty-looking knuckles carried enough power to carve right through the solid metal. I plunged my arm it's full length, all the way through two girders. I followed through with my smooth round bare shoulder and watched as the steel bent and compressed around my silky skin. By squeezing the girders that way, I was able to reduce the height of the entire pile of them at that point. The stack must've looked like a comet had crashed down right in the middle of it. Fans of the alphabet would call the once rectangular pile of metal "V-shaped".
The girder-stack was now narrow enough at the centre for me to stick my arm right through, which I did with laughable ease. It wasn't any harder to float back off the ground, carrying all that steel on my single, shapely arm. In fact, I barely noticed the weight. Of course, the huge stack of steel was rather bulky, but I didn't care. I smashed a half-built brick wall to pebble-sized pieces and broke the arm of an overhead crane in half, causing a chunk of it to crash down onto the ground and then brought down some power-lines in a shower of sparks (the thirty-two thousand volt charge nearly tickled... while it lasted). All that as I flew casually with the girders across the site.
I came down again to pick up, with my free left hand, a large metal skip. My slender fingers sunk into the thick metal as I gripped it comfortably. The huge (twelve-foot long, six-foot wide and six-foot deep) container was full of bricks and concrete rubble, but as you'd expect, I had no trouble at all lifting it from the ground with one of my pretty, feminine hands. A flick of my petite, but awesomely powerful, wrist caused the skip to turn over and its contents fell out onto the ground.
Then with my girders and my skip hanging from my arms, I shot straight up towards the limit of the atmosphere. I slowed a little as I carried my cargo beyond there and out into space and re-accelerated once I was clear into the vacuum. Twenty minutes later, I put down the girders and the skip inside a medium-sized crater on what most people call the dark side of the moon. My arm came smoothly free of the steel girders, widening the hole I'd punched through them on the way in.
Next, I set to work on the skip. With my magnificent strength, it was no challenge at all to bend the sides of it. I used flashes of my heat vision to soften the metal, remoulding it with the palms of my hands, straightening out the sloped sides of the container, and making it into a rectangular, five-sided box.
After that, I picked up a girder and, holding it out at arms length whilst hovering above the squared-off skip, I blasted the steel length with my eye-lasers. The metal melted like ice under a stream of boiling water. Liquid steel poured down my arm, dripping off my elbow and collecting in a pool inside my box. In seconds, an entire girder had been reduced to soup.
Quickly, I moved on to the next piece of steel. I reduced that to liquid even more efficiently than I had the first, making sure all the molten metal fell into my mould. Then I grabbed the third length and added that to the mix. I kept going until I'd melted all of the eight girders I had carried from Earth. By then, the modified skip was three-quarters full of liquid steel.
The last part of my preparation was the most fun. I hopped over the edge of the container and splashed into the middle of the molten metal as if it was a bath. I felt the warmth of the steel, but it was anything but unpleasant on my naked body. Using my flight-powers, I made myself sink under the surface of the metal, keeping myself still exactly in the centre of the liquid.
Unlike ordinary people, I don't actually need to breathe so I was quite happy floating deep in there. My eyes were open, and the thousands-of-degrees-hot soup bathed them, but that wasn't unpleasant. Besides, with my X-ray vision, I was able to see the stars above as clearly as if I hadn't been two foot deep in liquid steel.
So, quite comfortable in there, I lay perfectly still and waited. It was the middle of the long lunar night, so pretty cold by your standards. Hours passed and I didn't move any part of my gorgeous anatomy (except for my eyeballs) so much as a micrometer. I passed the time star-gazing, my naked eyes far more powerful and sensitive than the greatest man-made telescope, even inside a bath of metal.
It took the best part of seventy hours for the steel to solidify once again. For all that time I remained motionless and let the metal harden all around me.
And I'll reveal what I did once the steel had set in my next post...
Tuesday 15 May 2007 23:10 BST (GMT+1)
So, I left off at the end of my last post mid-flash-bank...
I was describing how I carried a load of steel to the moon, melted it into a customised, rectangular mould, then positioned myself in the middle of the liquid metal and waited for it to harden. I mentioned how I was quite comfortable bathing in the molten steel, and equally happy as it set.
As I wrote last time, I don't need oxygen to live. (Breathing is something I do purely for effect. And what effect!) I could have stayed entombed inside that giant-cereal-box-shaped chunk of steel for weeks if I'd been in the mood to do so. However, I wasn't in the mood for weeks of nothing. So, I had to move.
I was surrounded on every side by several feet of solid steel. Normally, that would be no barrier whatsoever to my unrestricted movement. But on this occasion, I had no wish to damage the steel block. Sure, I could have just "waded out" of the solid metal, letting my legs carve through the steel while my big, proud naked breasts lead the way for my upper-body, compressing, moving, rendering and tearing aside whatever metal, however thick, that got in their way.
But I wanted to preserve the smooth flat surfaces and sharp perfect corners of the oblong slab I was set inside. I hadn't gone to such lengths to make it simply in order to destroy it. I had to find a subtler approach. Of course, I soon worked it out. (With all my fabulous powers, and the amazing things I can do with them, I sometimes wonder if there's any problem that is truly beyond me.)
By gently activating my flight-powers and carefully tensing my muscles without actually shifting my limbs, I was able to move not only myself, but the metal all around me too. Slowly, the entire three-dimensional rectangle of steel rose off the lunar surface, lifting out of the mould I made, with me, perfectly still, at its centre.
I had to take care not to overload any part of the steel slab at any one moment (when you're as powerful as I am, it's so easy to overload a solid block of metal..) but I managed to "fly" it clear away from the moon's gravitational pull.
Once I was out in space proper, I found I could accelerate to much more natural (for me) speeds. Within an hour, as I peered through the steel with my X-ray vision, the Earth filled my eyes.
I'll tell you what I did at that point in my next post.
Wednesday 16 May 2007 21:18 BST (GMT+1)
Flying through the Earth's atmosphere, encased in a giant slab of solid steel, required all my superhuman skill and control as well as my amazing powers of flight.
It wasn't that I was in any danger. The fact that I was surrounded by metal didn't affect my complete invulnerability to high temperatures. The problem of course, was the steel. Compared to me, a several-foot-thick, solid block of the supposedly "tough", "strong" metal is... well, compared to me it's hopelessly fragile.
To protect the metal from the friction of re-entry, I had to steer it through the atmosphere slowly and at a carefully controlled angle. Alone, I could have flown the shortest route through. And I could have done it at a thousand times the speed. But I had to respect the poor, delicate steel.
Needless to say, I brought myself and the huge slab out of space and into Earth's sky without getting even so much as a scratch on any of its six surfaces. Then, I was free to accelerate. High over the world below, inside my oblong slab, I flew the thing at a nice relaxed speed, probably no more than three thousand miles an hour.
Every so often, I would lose altitude, dropping suddenly towards the surface in a controlled way that no flying-machine-builder could ever dream of replicating. It must have made for quite a spectacle on the ground: a massive, featureless, metal block measuring six foot by eight foot by twelve foot, descending at lightening speed from the heavens, hovering motionless mere inches above the ground for a few instants and then shooting back up into the sky.
You can picture me, completely naked within the slab, fighting the urge to giggle as people ran around, screaming, shouting about a "U.F.O.", invading "aliens" and generally going crazy. Most of the time I just left them to their hysterics as I zoomed back into the clouds. Most of the time.
On one particular occasion, I landed the slab, standing upright, right next to a young couple picnicking in a field. A typical example of his feeble sex, the male half of the duo immediately cowered from the newly-arrived metal visitor, hiding behind his female companion. He then produced a hand-gun and had a couple of shots. The bullets pinged off the steel, but they did leave small impact marks which I spotted from within using my X-ray vision.
Of course the perpetrator had to be punished. There was only a small portion of his head visible as he hid behind the woman, but that was enough for me. A well-aimed and perfectly-judged blast of heat-rays, courtesy of my beautiful eyes, vaporised much of his brain but left my steel block untouched. Five seconds later, the shiny, oblong block and I was miles away, looking for more sport.
Another time, I buzzed a group of young men. One of them almost surprised me by being resourceful and in possession of his faculties when he whipped out a camera-phone and started taking pictures of the "amazing metal craft".
I kept the slab on the ground just long enough to enjoy the would-be photographer's screams of agony as his phone suddenly glowed red and then melted into a burning goo that trickled down his arm. Once again, my heat-vision had come in useful, helping me to ensure that there would be no evidence of my games beside the babbling words of awe-struck witnesses.
Teasing isolated people was fun, but I couldn't resist taking my "U.F.O." to a more exciting venue. I'll tell you about that in my next post.