The Super Models
All of my stories have been written for an exclusively adult audience. They contain descriptions of violence, some of it of a sexual nature. They also include other sexually explicit depictions. They are in no way suitable for minors. Furthermore it is against the law in many parts of the world for this type of material to be read, either by minors or by minors and adults. Please make sure you are not acting contrary to local legislation before reading on and please do not read any further if you find this type of material offensive in any way.
This is a work of fiction and any similarity between the characters and events depicted and any people/events in real-life, past or present, is purely co-incidence. A number of the characters and events portrayed are inspired by, or based upon, existing works of fiction. Although I have made every effort to keep plagiarism to a minimum, I must acknowledge a debt of thanks to the many artists and writers who have shared their talents with the public.
I've released my stories to the public domain to make sure that as many people as possible who share my interest in this type of fiction can enjoy them. Please feel free to re-distribute them by whatever means you like, provided you respect the following points: (1) The stories will be re-distributed exactly as they are - unchanged and unedited. (2) No other person will claim authorship of any of these stories or any part of them. (3) The stories will not be distributed for profit, either on their own or as part of a group of other works.
Lastly, thank you for your interest in this story. I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter One: How the Models Became Super.
(An Encounter Between Aliens and Earthlings with Unexpected Results.)
The mission was routine. It had been assigned a low-priority by the Presidium, and it carried little risk. They had selected five low-ranking conscripts and had allocated them an ancient, barely space-worthy cargo ship, the "Dying Star." The crew had only one directive: to collect alien life-forms and bring them back to the Homeworld. There were few supplies on board; just empty bays to store the captured specimens and generous stocks of space-travel serum.
The discovery of that serum had one of the most significant moments in their species' history. Its ability to preserve and protect life-forms, coupled with its proficiency for converting natural energy into a form absorbable to its host, opened up whole new areas of possibilities. Firstly, its properties enabled its creators to venture further than ever into space, protected from the rigours of both the journey and the ageing process. Secondly, its energy conversion properties eliminated the need to pack sustenance for long-range travellers. Finally, it soon became apparent that the serum was effective on other species, allowing captured alien beings from far worlds to be brought alive to the research facilities on the Homeworld.
With time, the arrival of yet another cargo-ship full of unknown species from yet another previously unexplored corner of the universe passed almost unnoticed. The scouting missions were given less and less importance. Eventually, it became normal for a cargo ship to loose contact with its homeworld for many centuries as it wandered into uncharted areas of space, its crew and captured aliens sustained solely by serum.
That was very much the case with the "Dying Star" as it entered a newly-discovered solar system. On board, the navigator noted the location of the system's yellow star and its nine planets. Then the chief biologist announced that there were signs of life on the third planet; a small, temperate blue-grey world. The pilot set a course towards the planet. Knowing from experience that many life-forms prefer to congregate on the edge of continents, the navigator selected an orbit over just such an area of the little world.
Even before the ship was in orbit, the crew had observed that the planet was teaming with life. Little time was required to determine which was the world's dominant species. Then there was the process of selecting individuals to take back home. After a while, they focussed their efforts on a group of creatures clustered at the very edge of the land beneath them.
What struck them was the arrangement of the group. The bulk of the individuals - about forty - were clustered in a semicircle around three others. These three had - for whatever reason - decorated their bodies with far less fabric than the others, and they seemed to be very much the centre of attention. There was clearly something special about this trio as far as the other creatures were concerned. A short discussion ensued, ending with the crew of the "Dying Star" deciding that these three would be ideal representatives of their species. All that remained now was to get them on board, give them a dose of serum and put them into storage for the long voyage home.
Kate was in her element. She always enjoyed these group shoots, especially on location by the sea, and even more so on a warm day like this. Being tall, even for a model, she always found herself being placed in the centre of any group. Today was no exception, as she found herself posing with Caroline on her left and Kirsty on her right. She loved being in the middle; being the first of the three that the magazine's readers would notice, standing a whole head above her colleagues. In short she was quite literally the centre of attention and she loved it.
Despite her height, Kate was well aware that the two other girls were severe competition for the eyes of any observers. Desperate to be the most noticeable of the group, she employed every bit of her experience to look attractive; she used her wide, clear brown eyes, her rich full lips, her luxurious long, straight dark brown hair. She thrust her fabulously rounded large chest towards the camera, and turned her body to show off her flawless flat stomach, her exquisitely smooth hips and her long, shapely legs to maximum effect.
She could see the result of her efforts as the photographer and the rest of the gathered observers shifted uncomfortably, their eyes flickering because they were unable to decide what part of her form to stare at. It didn't matter; they were utterly incapable of looking away. She bent her upper body forward causing her immaculately curved and generously proportioned firm, ripe breasts to strain against the thin fabric of her white bra, revealing more and more inviting cleavage. Kate smiled to herself as she saw a number of the men in the crowd looking embarrassed as their trousers suddenly became tighter. She liked the reaction she caused in men. She never grew tired of the way her beauty made them nervous, the way she could make them loose their cool, their dignity - even their control - just by using her body. It was as if she had some kind of power over them, and she loved it.
Caroline, posing to the left of Kate, was no fan of what she called the "hungry dog" look in men. Although she was quite a few inches shorter than her brunette colleague, she had no trouble catching male eyes, due in part to her stunning below-the-shoulder-length copper red hair. When the sun shone on it, as it was doing at that moment, it almost seemed to be on fire. Given her incredible hair, it was all the more surprising that her eyes managed to shine in their own right. They were deep green, bright as emeralds and mysteriously penetrating.
These fabulous eyes sat above her nose, the understated centrepiece of her gorgeous face; small, smooth and straight apart from a tiny upturn at the tip. Below this, a neat round mouth, framed by two luscious red lips. The upper of these was a perfect bow shape, the lower slightly curved and generously protruding in an immaculate pout - the kind that made many men go weak at the knees. But, unlike Kate, Caroline hated the way men stared at her in awe. She felt as if their leers were a form of violation. She despised the way a man's eyes would scan up and down her body after her hair and eyes had caught his attention.
She abhorred the clichéd manner in which a man would drink in her exquisite legs, her slim, slightly muscular stomach and then, unsubtley, pause to rest his eyes on her proud, taut breasts. Of course, Caroline knew that these two bits of her anatomy were particularly attractive. They were not as large as Kate's, and not as round, but they perfectly complimented her shorter, slimmer figure. They sat high on her chest, arrogantly proclaiming their youthful ripeness to all as their slight tear-drop shape meant that when she was standing straight, her perfect pink nipples pointed ever so slightly skyward. She knew that, to the outside world, they screamed "Sexuality!" and she used that fact to her advantage despite herself.
For her, modelling was just a phase she had to go through, a necessary step on the road to her goal. Caroline desperately wanted fame; she longed for the day she could be recognised and admired without having to remove her clothes. She wanted to be loved, praised, even feared, but not leered at. She had vague ideas of achieving her aims through film or television, but the offers she craved had not been forthcoming. Caroline was convinced that, for many casting agents, she was a body, rather than a brain, and this feeling had made her bitter with the world. "One day, I'll show them" was the phrase that went round and round in her mind like a mantra.
That was considerably more than what was in Kirsty's mind. Standing on the other side of Kate to Caroline, the final member of the semi-naked trio was putting all her mental efforts into the task in hand - listening and responding to the photographer's instructions. Kirsty had never been mistaken for intelligent; she was a stereotypical Hollywood-style blond: stunningly beautiful and unable to think her way out of a paper bag. She stood a few inches taller than Caroline, but quite a bit shorter than Kate. Her head was crowned with straight golden hair that cascaded down her shoulders and hung as low as her middle back. Her eyes were blue and innocent, her nose beautifully scaled to the rest of her face.
Kirsty smiled a lot. Her just-not-too-thin lips parted, revealing two sets of dazzling, straight, perfect white teeth. It was the sort of smile that caused the most miserable of strangers to smile back. If only that stranger had been looking at her face. Because whilst Kirsty had that great smile as well as a wonderful pair of long, flawless, shapely legs, a textbook washboard abdomen and exquisitely curvaceous hips, few men passing her in the street ever got to notice those parts of her. The reason for that was the same as the reason why almost all the men she met never seemed to mind her lack of intelligence. Why? Because Kirsty had fantastic breasts.
That's not to say "fantastic" in the sense of very good, but "fantastic" in the sense of belonging in fantasy. They weren't just large - though they certainly were - and they weren't just stunningly round - though they were that, too. They were also unbelievably firm for their size, not appearing to droop even a hairsbreadth. Furthermore, they were immaculately located high and triumphant on her chest with just the perfect width of cleavage between them.
Incidentally, they were completely natural. No surgeon could ever create anything so perfect. When she revealed them in all their naked glory, fortunate observers noticed her immaculate, discreet aereolas - so rare on breasts so large - and her flawless, big rosebud-pink nipples. They were her fortune; they brought her exclusive modelling contracts and made rich men buy her gifts even they could hardly afford. Kirsty understood their value to her. Although she wasn't pleased by men who stared at them, she knew that as a child she had been called stupid and told she would spend her life working in dirty factories. Then, her breasts had come and they had rescued her.
At that moment, those breasts were threatening to fall out of an extremely low-cut vest, the white cotton straining almost to tearing point over her big nipples. Unlike Kate, she didn't have to bend forwards to display her cleavage. She just held herself straight and let her mammaries do the rest. Kirsty didn't know much but she did know that while her chest remained so young and firm and so fully rounded, no-one would care if she wasn't clever. She drew in a breath, making herself swell even more. Almost immediately, she detected a collective gasp from the small crowd watching the photo-shoot.
The Encounter (1)
Back on the ship, final preparations were being made for the capture of the three specimens. The crew had been through the procedure countless times. First the ship would enter the planet's atmosphere and take up a stationary position about twenty units directly above the subjects. Then the loading ray would be employed and the creatures brought aboard. Next, they would be treated with serum and finally placed in a storage area. After that, the "Dying Star" would head off into space, looking for other new life-forms.
It was a system that had never failed before. The crew went about their tasks with an air of well-practised efficiency. The navigator guided the craft through the planet's strange atmosphere, paying little attention to the instrument panel that was registering previously unmatched readings. Their equipment had never been used in such an environment before, but almost every new planet held some small surprise. Their system had proved infallible in so many different types of atmosphere that this planet's unique qualities were not deemed worthy of note.
Besides, other apparatus indicated that the ship was being approached by tiny vehicles. They had underestimated this planet's inhabitants' technological ability; clearly the dominant species had developed devices capable of travelling within their world's atmosphere. Again, the crew were not alarmed by this unusual turn of events. Their craft easily outran and outmanoeuvred the little vehicles. At one point, some sort of primitive weapons were deployed against the "Dying Star", but they had no effect against the ageing cargo ship, and the navigator steered into position, ignoring the attempts to interfere with his mission.
The Encounter (2)
It was the first time any of the pilots in the elite squadron had ever seen, let alone tailed a UFO. The thing was enormous. There seemed no way it could get off the ground, let alone travel through space. What kind of unearthly technology could make something like that? The military were desperate to find out. An engine that could propel what appeared to be an utterly featureless smooth metal cube about two hundred yards long in height, width and depth, would be an incredible asset. The order went out to force it to ground, by whatever means necessary.
But the object was too quick for even their fastest aircraft. Not only that, but it seemed capable of accelerating and decelerating unfeasibly quickly. It could hover or move in any direction and it could change course suddenly. There was no way the pilots could get close to it. They tried using their air-to-air missiles, but the few powerful warheads that managed to hit their target appeared to have no effect whatsoever on the smooth surface of the alien craft. It seemed to be utterly indestructible.
By now, the highest authorities had been informed. Like the military, though, they were powerless to do anything but wait and see what the mysterious craft's intentions were. The most destructive weapons available were readied in case it proved to be hostile, and a thousand tracking devices followed its every move. Below, millions saw the object streak across the sky.
The UFO finally came to a halt above the Pacific coast of North America, hovering a couple of miles up for a while before suddenly shooting downwards and abruptly stopping dead still. It was only a few hundred feet up and it cast its square shadow over a photo-shoot for a men's magazine which was taking place on the ground. The three models, a photographer and dozens of assistants and spectators craned their necks to see the incredible object.
Before any of them could react to the remarkable sight, they were dazzled by a blinding beam of pure white light that emerged from one of the featureless sides of the alien craft. The light bathed the scantily-clad trio, obscuring them completely from the others' view. A few seconds later, the beam suddenly disappeared leaving behind not a trace of the three beautiful young women who had been posing only moments earlier. Then the ship moved straight upwards, so quickly that it was beyond sight within a few heartbeats. A collective gasp arose from amongst the assembled crowd as the realisation spread: somehow the girls had either been abducted or vaporised by the mysterious craft.
The Unexpected Results
With the three subjects securely in the loading bay along with a large quantity of the peculiar mixture of gases that surrounded the strange planet, there was no more need to hang about so near the surface. The crew steered their craft into the upper reaches of the atmosphere and began preparing a dose of serum for the new life-forms. After a short discussion, they decided that the creatures would best absorb it in a gaseous form.
Kirsty, Kate and Caroline found themselves in an utterly featureless, circular white room. Instinctively, they held on to each other, their fear driving them to cling to anything familiar. They jumped as one when they heard a peculiar hissing sound above them but there was no time for them to respond as they were enveloped in a thick, rapidly descending orange mist. Less than a second later, the three models were unconscious.
In another part of the ship there was a burst of frantic activity. The crew had been calmly observing the administering of serum to the new subjects when they noticed an indicator panel giving danger signals. In an instant, all the other panels on the observation deck began to signal similar warnings. Nothing like this had ever occurred before. The serum was reacting in an unforeseen way to the mixture of gases in the loading bay. Not only that, but it was bonding with the subjects' cells in a completely abnormal manner.
The crew of the "Dying Star" had never experienced anything like it before. The serum had never previously failed to work as it was intended. The warnings coming from the instrument panels continued to grow more urgent, until they began to fear for the integrity of their ship and then for their very lives. There was only one course of action they could take. The contents of the loading bay - strange gases, malfunctioning serum and life-forms - were automatically expelled from the ship. Then the crew steered their craft at maximum speed into deep space, determined to get as far away from the peculiar new planet as possible.
Back on the beach there was a state of total confusion. Quite a few people were staring blankly into the sky. Others had sat down on the sand, shaking their heads in disbelief. Then, someone shouted. Dozens of others turned and saw that the brilliant beam of light had returned, seemingly from nowhere. The blinding glow remained fixed for a few seconds until, without warning, it ceased. When the startled observers blinked their vision clear another collective gasp left their throats. There, lying on the ground, were the three girls. It was almost as if they had never gone.
Caroline was the first to move, sitting up slowly, looking around herself slightly dazed. Kate followed suit moments later, followed by Kirsty. The photographer snapped out of his stunned amazement and slowly approached them. His question - "Are you OK?" - seemed a bit pathetic given the circumstances but none of the girls seemed to mind.
"Er.. Yeah. I think." Caroline said.
"What about you?" the camera guy asked the other two.
"I'm.. alright" answered Kate.
"Me too. Actually, I feel great." said Kirsty.
"Yeah, I feel terrific too." added Kate after a moment's reflection.
"You're right," Caroline chimed in, "I feel fantastic!"
The photographer held out his hand towards Kirsty, intending to help her up to her feet. The busty blonde girl raised her hand to meet his, her long, slender fingers reaching out towards his stubby hairy digits. He gripped her, preparing to lift her to her feet. She gripped back and he screamed. Kirsty was just able to make out the sound of crunching bone amongst the yells of agony. He tried to pull his hand away from her, but it didn't move an inch. With tears in his eyes he spluttered through his pain "Let me go! Please let me go!"
Kirsty couldn't understand what was happening. She was confused. Surely, the photographer's big, thick hand was in no danger from her petite feminine grip. Surely he could remove himself from her grasp without having to ask her to release him. In a daze, she slowly opened her fingers, staring in disbelief at the mutilated, discoloured mess that had been his hand. The fingers were crushed almost flat, bent at unnatural angles. A piece of shattered bone poked through his palm, blood flowing freely from the wound. His pink flesh was rapidly turning to black and he clutched his battered hand with his good one, moaning in his obvious distress, "My hand! Jesus, my fucking hand! What have you done to me?"
"Nothing.. I didn't do anything!" blurted Kirsty, on the verge of tears herself. "I just tried to hold your hand. I didn't want to hurt you... I'm so sorry. I just -"
She was interrupted by an astonished outburst behind her. It was Kate. "- Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "I can see through his clothes! I can see through everything! I've got X-ray vision!!"
"Me too!" declared Caroline "I can see through stuff too! This is incredible."
Kirsty forgot about the injured photographer for a moment and squinted into the middle distance. "Yeah," she said, confused, as the clothes dissolved from the people she was looking at and then their flesh too disappeared, revealing a series of upright skeletons. "I can do it too. What's happening to us?"
The Next Series of Surprises
Kate sprang to her feet. She was intrigued. Thinking about Kirsty's little accident, she reached down and picked up a small palm-sized rock in her palm. Standing straight again, she stared at the chunk of stone, tightening her fingers. There was a cracking sound and then, suddenly, the rock was reduced to a powder that trickled from her palm. "Fuck!" she exclaimed. She hadn't really put much effort into the squeeze and she had barely felt anything as she did it, but she had crushed a solid piece of rock in her delicate palm. Something amazing was happening here. Something to do with the UFO and the strange orange mist. Something incredible.
The same sense of wonder was overcoming Caroline. She had watched in awe as Kate had crushed the rock. Anxious to see if she, too, had been similarly affected, she jumped to her feet and began walking towards the sea. She'd spotted a small boulder, about the size of her head, that would be ideal for experimentation. She couldn't believe how light she felt as she strode, her steps easy, her head wonderfully clear, her senses remarkably sharp. She found she could detect smells from the restaurant a mile up the coast and spot small fish swimming an equal distance out to sea. Her ears picked up muttered conversations far behind her as clearly as if the speakers were shouting next to her. She really did feel fantastic.
Kirsty and Kate watched as Caroline stepped up to the rock and bent down to pick it up between her two hands. Suddenly, she was holding it on a single, out-stretched palm. She tossed it lightly into the air, catching it on her other palm as if it were a small beach-ball. "This is incredible!" she called out to her two colleagues. "It feels so light. Watch!" and she bent her arm to toss the rock underarm out to sea. Her gentle toss sent the small boulder flying in a graceful arc so far out to sea that only the three girls were able to see it splash down. "Did you see that?" asked Caroline. "I've got super-strength! And super eyes and ears! This is fantastic!"
A few dozen yards away, the injured photographer was being treated by a technician. They both stared in disbelief at the scene unfolding on the beach. Kirsty, still sitting on the sand in a state of bewilderment asked once again "What's going on?"
"The UFO." replied Kate. It must've done something to us. Changed us..."
"Are we going to be alright?" Kirsty asked, her voice containing more than a trace of fear.
"Well, I feel great." said Kate, walking towards the photographer and his carer.
"Me too." Caroline contributed as she turned her back on the sea and strolled towards her blonde companion. Kirsty got lightly to her feet, the expression on her face still betraying an inner discomfort.
"Yeah," she said. "I feel terrific, but I don't understand what's happened to us. I mean -"
"-There's nothing to understand" interrupted Kate. A UFO. has come down and made us super."
"Super?!?" exclaimed Kirsty.
"Super." confirmed Caroline.
"I still don't get it." said the blonde. Meanwhile, Kate's long legs had carried her to the spot where the photographer was receiving treatment. She bent low, reaching out for the technician, offering both him and the wounded man a spectacular view of her stunning cleavage. She smiled as she found she could smell their arousal. She allowed herself a few brief seconds as she employed her newly-acquired X-ray vision to peel away layers of clothes and underwear in order to investigate the two men's growing erections. She was beginning to enjoy herself. Slowly, she placed three slender fingers of one of her hands under the technician's arm.
Remembering what Kirsty had done to the photographer's hand and what she herself had done to the rock, she was careful not to crush the man's shoulder as she gripped it. Then she cautiously began to raise her hand, smoothly lifting the heavy man to his feet. A look of surprise and then shock came over his face as she continued to raise her hand, hoisting him first onto his toes and then completely off the ground altogether. To Kate's delight, he felt almost weightless as his big frame dangled from her delicate hand. She stretched her slender arm upwards as far as she could so that his feet were suspended a foot above the sand. Turning to Kirsty she asked "Now do you get it? We're super. See?"
The technician was starting to get uncomfortable. "Put me down!" he instructed, his eyes momentarily betraying fear until he glanced downwards and caught an eyeful of Kate's chest and the fear gave way to lust. Seeing that, Kate smiled, but made no effort to release him. She was marvelling at the ease with which she was holding him aloft. The technician brought both of his hands towards his armpit, trying to prise open her fingers. Despite putting all his effort into the task, using every ounce of strength he could muster, he could not free himself from her casual grip. He quickly became desperate. "Let me go!" he cried.
When he realised that his plea was being ignored, he removed his right hand, balled it into a fist and punched her with all his might in the centre of her smooth, flat belly, instantly yelling in agony as his knuckles cracked, a dark bruise immediately appearing on his hand. Kate's grin grew wider. To her, the blow had felt like a gentle caress. Clearly, to the technician it had been more like punching a brick wall than a girl. His eyes were watering as he clutched his wounded hand to his stomach. In panic, he kicked out at her, his thick, heavy shoes crashing against her smooth knees and round thighs with absolutely no effect.
A short distance away, Caroline watched in fascination. She found herself getting increasingly excited by the sight of a chunky man struggling in vain against a slim young girl. Never much of an admirer of men, she was enjoying the scene enormously. Without consciously inviting it, she realised she was getting deeply turned on by the technician's predicament. The concept of a woman holding such power over a man thrilled her deeply. Kirsty meanwhile, was finally beginning to comprehend what was going on. After a long period of concentrated thought, she eventually came to the conclusion that, despite her befuddlement, it was pretty cool. By her standards, this was a pretty profound notion.
All the while, the technician was injuring himself on Kate's flawless body. Having badly bruised his toes trying to kick her as well as severely damaging one hand on her beautiful belly, he decided to concentrate his efforts on a more sensitive part of her anatomy. So he made a fist of his good hand and struck the side of her left breast with as much force as he could gather. It proved slightly softer than her stomach. At first. For while the wonderful flesh appeared to yield for a fraction of a second, there was a steel-hard layer beneath that turned out to be just as harmful as her belly. Once again he screamed. Once again a huge bruise spread quickly over his knuckles. Kate merely laughed.
The Game Turns Sour
Caroline was almost boiling inside now. The sheer idea of a man breaking his hard, masculine hand on a girl's softest, most feminine flesh went to the very core of her most secret fantasies. She had to live the experience for herself. She strolled away from Kate and the technician, towards the crowd of stunned on-lookers. The all-male crowd stared open-mouthed as she approached, unbuttoning the thin white shirt she was wearing, letting it hang open, revealing her luscious breasts. She walked right up to one of the equipment handlers, an ugly, large and muscular man in his late thirties. He'd spent the last ten years loading and unloading heavy machinery and it showed on his physique.
Standing only a foot away from him, she smiled, placed her hands on her hips and pushed out her impressive chest. Not one to waste words, she said simply, "Punch my tits".
"Wha..?" The big man was astounded.
"Come on, punch my tits." Caroline repeated.
"Are you crazy?" asked the handler. This was not what Caroline wanted. She reached forward, encircling each of the large man's wrists with a thumb and forefinger. He tried to shake his arms free and found to his utter astonishment that he couldn't. "Let go of me!" he bellowed. Caroline paid him no attention as she lifted both his hands up. He tried to resist her, using all his considerable strength to keep his hands by his waist, his formidable muscles bulging. Caroline was amazed how easily she overpowered him despite his exertions, raising his hands effortlessly until they were level with her chest.
"Make fists." she instructed, becoming ever more aroused. When he failed to obey her, she tightened her grip slightly until his unattractive face contorted with pain. "Make fists or I'll crush your wrists to powder." Clearly fearful of the slender red-head, the handler curled his fingers into his palms. Caroline relaxed her twin hold slightly whilst smiling sweetly at the big man. "That's a good boy." she said. "Now, are you gonna punch my boobs or am I gonna make you do it?" As she finished, she squeezed his wrists briefly once more, making him cry out in agony.
"Alright, alright!" he gasped. Caroline released him. He immediately carried out her wish. With his blood enriched by excess adrenaline generated by pain and the anger caused by his humiliation, the ugly man put enough into his right jab to floor a lightweight boxer. That translated to sufficient force to put a very temporary dent in the redhead's naked breast. Both she and her unwilling assailant heard the increasingly familiar sound of crunching bone instants before the handler yelled out in agony. Her supremely erotic flesh had momentarily yielded only to prove vastly harder than a strong man's knuckles.
Watching him whimpering in severe anguish, Caroline felt her arousal reaching new heights. The punch had seemed to her no more than a deliciously light, teasing touch from a lover. She wanted more. "Now the other one." she instructed. The big man looked at her through tear-filled eyes.
"No!" he said, "Please, no!" Caroline had never experienced a man begging her for mercy before. For reasons she didn't understand, she found the whole idea impossibly erotic. Her exposed nipples swelled as she began to loose control of her libido. She'd never been so sexually excited in her life. Seeing the intense look in her eyes, the handler began to back away from her, fearful of what she might do next. Kate watched in mild amusement as Caroline grabbed hold of his uninjured arm, preventing him from retreating any further, despite his struggles. Meanwhile Kirsty looked on, shuffling uncomfortably on her feet as the handler continued to plead with her colleague.
Caroline was far too lost in her arousal to pay any heed to the ugly man's protestations. Maintaining her grip on his forearm, she pulled him to her, his moans abruptly cut off as the impact of his chest against hers knocked all the air from his lungs. With his free, damaged hand he clawed franticly at her face and her sides as her engorged nipples pressed agonisingly into his flesh. Caroline merely adjusted her hold on him so that her arm was behind his back, holding him fast against her. Still unable to draw air, his struggles became even more desperate. That only served to turn on the red-head still further, her steely, expanding nipples now puncturing his skin as he airlessly screamed in pain and terror.
As the handler's face turned purple and then white, Caroline licked her lips in delight, unaware that the pleasant sensation in her chest was being caused by the points of her breasts pushing against his bared ribs. There was a loud crack and suddenly, he stopped moving altogether. That brought Caroline back to her senses. Looking down, she saw that she was covered in blood. Shocked, she dropped the man's corpse. He fell on his back, his bloody, crushed chest visible to all. "Fucking hell!" cried Caroline, "I killed him with my tits!" Kate looked on, her face a mixture of terror and, undeniably, admiration. Kirsty looked as sick as the two dozen onlookers did.
"Oh God!" said the shorter, blond girl. "What are you going to do now? We gotta call the police. Oh God, oh God, oh God."
"Get a grip on yourself." said Kate, authoritatively. "You still haven't got it, have you? We're super now. We can do whatever we want and no-one can tell us not to." The technician, still helplessly suspended from Kate's one-handed hold began to visibly shake in terror.
"Well, I don't want to do that!" Kirsty replied, pointing to the corpse. "You guys are sick."
"Oh, cool it." snapped Caroline as she bent down to tear a strip off the dead man's trousers. She ripped the thick denim as if it were tissue paper. Standing straight again, she used the piece of material to wipe the blood off her exposed breasts, her eyes revealing that she was enjoying the sensation of the rough fabric against her seemingly soft flesh. "He was just a man. And besides, it was an accident. I'll just have to be more careful in future. Although, come to think of it, it did feel pretty good..."
"Stop it!" yelled Kirsty. "You're freaking me out."
"Oh, why don't you call the cops then," taunted the red-haired muderess, "Maybe I could squeeze something out of them too!"
The technician still dangling from Kate's outstretched arm finally realised the danger of his predicament. "Please don't hurt me." he appealed pathetically to the tall girl who had been supporting his not inconsiderable weight with just one hand throughout Caroline's exertions. Meanwhile the wounded photographer at his feet began to nervously edge away. Kate lifted her long, slender leg and brought it carefully down on to his stomach, pinning him helplessly to the sand, despite his efforts to free himself with his good hand.
"No-one's calling the cops." said Kate. "And no-one's going anywhere, either." she added, directing this second statement to the man trapped under her delicate bare foot.
"Let them go!" said Kirsty, almost hysterically. Caroline laughed.
"Make them beg first." suggested the red-haired girl.
"Just let them go" the blonde repeated.
"Nobody tells me what to do anymore. Understand?" said Kate, angrily. She was answered by a male voice coming from the centre of the group of astounded and frightened on-lookers.
"You understand this!" said the voice. All three girls spun to see its source. They barely had time to register that it belonged to a short man - one of the catering staff - and that he was holding some kind of pistol in his hand before he fired the weapon. This was immediately followed by the sound of a bullet ricocheting away as if it had hit a sheet of solid steel. Both Kate and Kirsty turned to look at Caroline. She was smiling.
"Ooh," she said, her voice heavy with mockery. "That could have hurt me. Seems I'm bullet-proof now, however. But nice try - for a man. Now, let's see how tough you are." and she started walking towards the shooter. Kirsty rushed over to intercept her. "That's enough" she cried, at the same time amazed by how quickly she managed to run the distance to her colleague. The caterer panicked when he saw her moving so fast, and squeezed off another round.
The bullet struck Kirsty in the side of her huge left breast, tearing a hole in her over-tight swimsuit and making the mountain of flesh bounce ever so slightly as the slug rebounded harmlessly away. Although the impact caused her no more pain than if she had been hit by a small feather, with her mental state already disturbed, she reacted badly. Turning in fury towards the caterer she glowered "Why are you trying to kill me? I was going to protect you!" As she finished speaking, she ran over to stand in front of him. Again, the speed of her movement was utterly phenomenal.
"I..I'm..s..sorry" he stammered. Despite his fear, he couldn't help but lower his gaze to stare at her incredible chest - so large, so firm-looking, so close to him now. If anything, her breasts looked even bigger now, as if whatever mysterious process had taken place had also augmented her bust as well. "Please.. please don't do anything to me.." he murmured into her enormous cleavage.
"Talk to her face, not her tits!" said Kate, slightly annoyed that Kirsty had captured the man's attention away from her.
"Yeah," said Kirsty, forgetting her anger with her colleagues.
"Well don't just stand there," encouraged Caroline, getting excited all over again. "Teach him a lesson. Show him what happens to naughty boys who get too close to your tits without your permission."
"What do you mean?" asked the blonde girl, genuinely confused.
"Oh come on, Kirsty!" said Kate, exasperated now. "You're super. You can do whatever you want with him."
"I.. I don't know.." mumbled the shorter, busty model.
"Crush his ugly face on your beautiful tits!" cried Caroline, the arousal in her voice clear for all to hear.
"No. No!" cried the caterer, suddenly even more afraid. The rest of the group of men began to edge away from him. Kirsty did not move. She could hear the man's heart pumping furiously. She really didn't want to hurt him. On the other hand, she recalled, he had shot her. And stared at her chest when he was supposed to be apologising to her. But she hated what Caroline had done to the equipment handler. Although, she had to admit that she was curious to see if she was as strong as her colleagues appeared to be-.
The caterer made Kirsty's decision for her. His eyes remained fixed on her chest, his brain apparently unable to move them despite his terror. Anger rose inside the blonde girl. Then, as if he had a death-wish, he allowed a single drop of saliva to accumulate on his bottom lip before failing to stop it as it fell like rain onto her feet. "You sick bastard! That's all you can think of!" yelled Kirsty.
"No! No! I'm sorry!" pleaded the man in front of her as she reached up, placing each of her hands on the side of his head, against his ears. Remembering the photographer's hand, she was careful not to crush his head between her palms as she pulled it forward and down towards the massive expanse of her cleavage.
"You want tits?" she asked, angrily. "Then have tits!" And she yanked his face onto the top of her breasts, rubbing it aggressively from side to side as he screamed in pain and fear. There was a crack as his nose broke against her soft flesh. Blood began to flow from the wound. More appeared as her breasts proved so much harder than his face, the supposedly soft flesh splitting his lips and knocking teeth from his mouth.
She pulled his bleeding, battered face from her chest and looked at it. She could see bruises forming on his cheeks and forehead. He was crying. She pushed him gently away, the force of her thrust enough to send him staggering a dozen steps back until he fell onto the sand, unconscious, but undoubtedly breathing. The other men backed off even further, staring in shock at the blonde girl who had just beaten up a man with nothing but her delicious feminine curves.
"Now, didn't that feel good?" asked Caroline.
"I taught him a lesson, that's all." said Kirsty.
"Do you see what it means to be super now?" enquired Kate.
"Yeah." answered the blonde, truthfully. She wouldn't admit it, but she had enjoyed having so much power over a man. At least, she thought, he had deserved it. And she hadn't killed him. Not like Caroline had done.
Meanwhile, Kate seized the opportunity to become the centre of attention once more. Adressing the two men she held captive - one in her hand the other under her foot - she asked "And you two. Do you understand what it means to be a man around a super girl?"
"Yes!" the both chimed, their voices unsteady with fear. Kate held them fast as she turned to the main group of men.
"What about all of you?" There was a chorus of "yes"s and "we understand"s. She removed her foot from the photographer's belly and released her grip on the technician, letting him fall without dignity on top of his colleague. With groans and wheezing, they both climbed unsteadily to their feet and moved towards the main group. The unconscious caterer and dead handler remained still, lying on the sand.
"This is totally fucking cool!" said Kate to Caroline and Kirsty.
"Damm right!" answered the red-head.
"Guess so." said Kirsty. "As long as we don't kill anyone else. But what do we do now?" she indicated the battered corpse as she spoke.
Before anyone could reply, the three girls turned as one to look up at the sky. It was quite a while before anyone else there realised what had caught their attention. But then, only the three girls possessed super-hearing. The others didn't hear the approaching helicopters nearly so quickly-
TO BE CONTINUED.
Conceptfan, November 2001
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