Friday, September 27, 2013

Just a quick note

Which should be obvious-i am going to a weekly format with entries every tuesday from her in. Want to pace out the stories a bit, and keep the quality high-the story of the current arc climaxes probabbly in febuary for various reasons and i want to keep that feeling fresh, to reach its epic conclusion.

(preview: The last chapter title is 'A Story With Much Violence but no Sex")

Once agian special thanks to Dru for helping me so much with these stories. and ocasionally putting in werid Australian spelling but thanks. 


Feel free to email me at Love your comments and suggestions.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Ride the Intense Pyschodrama!!

  Sarah was not entirely sure how she should feel about this.

It wasn't the guys hand on her thing that was just on the hem of her sundress. Yeah, she could deal with that. She was on a date with Steven, who was nice enough but a little handsy, especially for the surroundings. She could like handsy in the right circumstance. However, there were kids around. If his fingers went a slip beneath the hem she would probably say something.

No, what Sarah wasn't sure about was where she was - Universal Studios Hollywood. It was a theme park - that was certainly the right word for it, built into a movie studio, built into a mesa over the valley. Now, Sarah had been to many movie studios over the years, but she was specifically in the theme park zone of the park, with no way to cross the magical line into, well, her everyday.

Universal Studios was designed to show people that line - its entire themes were movies. Mostly Universal movies and a couple of others were all represented in a couple of rides that were basically themed to some movie property (and surprisingly few of them), shows where some movie property was demonstrated, like sound effects or animal training, with just a tad of education (not that the field necessarily required depth. When people used cowbells to make sound effects it wasn't incredibly deeper then that - other then it was a pain to time correctly), a couple of very small museum-like spaces where they showed actual bits of movie history (Sarah saw the letter where Groucho Marx actually said that he didn't want to be part of any club that would let him be a member[underlying premise of joke that most people didn't get: He was Jewish [[secret underlying premise: He already was a member of the West La Country Club and was feuding with them over how they ran there golf course[[[underlying premise to the underlying premise: Groucho was in real life an unhappy asshole]]] ]] ] )

And, yes, shops. Sarah had locked Steven arms around her like they had been dating for years - you could buy things that looked like movie props; toys of swords, of cream pies, hats, badges - the kind of stuff she made everyday and now was being sold for 10 bucks, made in china.  She didn't quite know how she felt about that. Granted, this wasn't stuff that she had made, and except in the case of some of the really expensive stuff, was clearly toys pretending to be props (and in reality most props where toys pretending to be something else) but there was an air of turning what she had into the store. was a lot like Comic-Con with better display tables. This was magic with indifferent tourists...this was...

Well, time to take the studio tour.

Sarah had been here before. When she was 8 her father had taken her to Universal Studios Hollywood (there was a Universal Studios Florida, her home state, however she had never been). She had LOVED It. It would be simplistic to say her current life’s work had started here, but that was one of the things that led to it. She remembered the sets to all her favourite movies, the shark from Jaws that came out at her, King Kong attempting to attack her. It was a magical day, in her magical trip to Los Angeles. One of the best in her life.

It was wrong to expect it to be the same today. Just when she was moving to LA there was a fire in the studio that had destroyed the giant stuffed King Kong and a lot of the backlot. She had heard that Universal was planning to rebuild a lot of the sets they used to take you through, but they didn't seem in an incredible hurry to do so. They had largely replaced the tour guides with a video presentation, which was good in giving you a sense of history, but lost a little of the charm. They had taken out the Battlestar Galactica exhibit (which was for the original 1970s show - and last in to the time of the reboot. Tricia Helfer was nowhere in the new one). In general it seemed the fact that this was a working movie studio was less of the buzz here.

And for someone who had taken the ride once nearly 20 years ago she was some expert on it.

She sighed. She was with Steven, and this was nice. That was the thing about first dates. You’re with someone and the focus is on them - learning who they are what they are all about. Going to Universal Studios (which was his idea and a good one, she gave him that much) at least made the focus the parting of the Red Sea, and just being with someone. She liked being with someone. She nuzzled him and put her head into his shoulder.

They past a suburban street that had all the houses from sitcoms - The Munsters, Leave It To Beaver. It was fake of course, well all movies where fake, but she knew they wouldn't have built it all there, but it was good. She smiled and was happy. When she let herself go, when she let all of the crap of being a superhero, a single girl, a nerd with home homeowner dues...when all of it was gone she could be happy.

She liked being happy.

Sarah smiled brightly. Why do women do this? She stood on a ladder putting up wallpaper. It was silly in a way, she was working so hard to put little dragons and unicorns up on the wall of her children’s bedroom. By the time they would notice it, it would be time to put up some other wallpaper again - but ahh. it was cheery. She liked dragons and unicorns.

And she felt the baby kick.

Then the other.

She was nesting-building up her space for baby.  She rubbed her stomach. She had always been a larger women - now she had twins inside of her. And she was larger, true. For most of her life one could have described her as being on the cusp of fat. Now she had crossed that line. However her boobs had also grown from D all the way to F, so who was to complain. Large to feed her children. Her joys. Little Dianna and Kara.

She smiled.

The wallpaper would take a little while to dry, and she was getting a little tired.

She went to the living room of their little bungalow. She looked out the window of the perfect Florida sun. She got a glass of lemonade and waited.
She thought of her husband. He was such a nice man.  He would be home from his office job in a couple of hours. What would she serve him for dinner? Her mother always loved cooking ham hocks, potatoes, and peas. She would make that.  She briefly thought she had missed but why? Her parents lived 10 miles away, and had done so for all her life, in Tallahassee.

The thought caused a weird sensation at the back of her neck. However, she ignored it.

She sighed and relaxed. She missed her husband, though he had been gone, what? 5 hours. She missed every second he was gone, every second she was apart from him. But it made her happy to know that he existed, that he was there and he was perfect - her perfect match.

She relaxed a bit.

She turned on the TV. They were playing the movie King Kong. It was a favourite of hers. She loved watching King Kong destroy the city - she sometimes wished she was that strong, that she was that mighty, that she could rampage through the city pounding her chest.

Sarah Kong

She would have beaten her chest but, well...babies.

The movie did, however, take a while to get going - a lot of stuff with a blatantly offensive Chinese cook... She had watched the 2005 movie once - and realized it took a long time to get going too - almost an hour. That was pretty bad. And once they got to the island there were native stereotypes that were a lot more offensive then the first movie. Ahh, well...

She liked movies. She remembered that she had wanted to get into them once long ago, before becoming a homemaker - but well, she would never be an actress - but she would be the best Sarah she could.

She smiled and felt alive. The babies kicked again. It was an odd sensation, and a perfect sensation, to be full of life - to be connected to things that were literally a part of her and yet separate. To be one, and many, Yes, this was the dream, this was how she wanted to be, and even if she wasn't rich or powerful, or special, then yes...just like this.


Sarah turned her head. There was a man in her house. She looked at the man wearing strange metal armor and a black cape. Somehow, she wasn't frightened though the man was strange and dressed like a nincompoop.


Sarah looked down. She was not, in fact, wearing any shoes.

The metal figure did airquotes - which was very tricky in so much as he always yelled.


“What do you want Deca?" asked Sarah. Huh? His name was Deca - she knew that.


"I'm happy here" said Sarah, not quite sure what she was saying. "Can't you let me be in peace? I am going to make my husband chicken and dumplings."

Deca laughed.


"Um," Sarah thought. "He’s...” And found couldn't describe him.


Sarah paused a moment and looked at him. She couldn't feel her children inside her anymore – it wasn’t as if they were dead - but as if they were never there.....they were a gone. That’s what got to her. That’s what hurt.

"I try."


"I try. I don't know...I...”


Sarah looked at Deca for a second.

and then his face had dafodill petals around it.

"This is my dream isn't it? And I can do whatever I want?”

And Deca now was a four legged creature with a flag for a tale and a sausage for a nose.


"And you’re probably not real either. 99% of you just the part of my subconscious that wants to fuck up. Inception ain’t real. But...well, thank you. Without you in the back of my fucking head then I would be just like you. I will admit to be a creature of crippling self doubt...but, that’s what makes me ‘Mazing Girl,"

And she was wearing her costume.

And he was green - with polka dots.

"That makes me want to save the world, and be a heroine and tell kids to stay off drugs, despite the fact that I occasionally..."

And Sarah woke up. She looked up, and saw Stevens face.

He wasn't her husband.

That was her first thought, she thought perhaps one of the worst in her life. He was a perfectly nice guy really. Black, which she was kind of curious about - not about the giant penis rumours which she knew were a racist stereotype and which she had before and was no great trick...

But well he was perfectly nice guy. Handsy, but at least his hands were on her, and he seemed attentive and he had shared part of his hamburger with her, becuse the hamburger at universal studios was very good.

But he wasn't her husband, he wasn't.

"You dozed off there. I mean, this is very long...”

And all around them an avalanche went off - ice crystals fell on top of the tram car and it started to spin around in a giant vortex of destruction as the earth cracked and gored.

And Sarah grabbed him, and held him in mock terror at the fake movie magic, but with real desire to hold him, even though he wasn't her husband, and be with him. The thought filled her as he screamed in mock horror.

Movies, it had been observed, were dreams at 24 frames a second.

This was a soundstage from the seventies that had been poorly converted into a variation of a carnival attraction.

But it shared a dream quality with a sense of reality, and as she shared this moment with him, slightly groggy and unsure, she felt the magic: she dreamed she had a husband, that she had been together with him, that he had made her barefoot and pregnant in the most redneck part of Florida.

Wow...maybe Deca had been right. Maybe her dreams were pretty fucked up.

But she was Sarah Jennings, and she was 'Mazing Girl, and all the dreams and fantasies, hard work and reality, all of it - all of it had brought her here and she was happy.

So when she got home she gave Universal Studios a Yelp score of 5. Out of 5!!

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Zen & the Art of Negotiating with Pyschos

The Los Angeles police department had 10,000 active officers and about 5,000 more in reserve. It had numerous airships, planes, and small tanks.  It had swat teams and canine forces. It had a larger active force then 2/3s of the world’s armies.

And if you were to have them face ‘Mazing Girl, her versus them, you would put money on her.  Yeah, possibly they could get a lucky shot, but not likely. They simply didn’t have the necessary firepower.

If you added all the other police in southern California, all of the National Guard, hell, put in the seal teams based in San Diego - again you’d probably bet on her.

It was kind of a sobering thought really for Sarah Jennings, who secretly was ‘Mazing Girl. All that was really stopping her in the world was her own sense of right and wrong, her own innate goodness. Her own responsibility.

And she was a person who watched the first season of Jersey Shore. Voluntarily.  She stopped a couple episodes into the second, as once the meatheads were in on the jokes it wasn’t as funny, but yeah. This was the kind of mind they dealt with. It terrified her.

But Sarah was a good person, and she did take her duties to humanity seriously. Her job was to help the police. Not if they became, like say, the army of Paraguay which overran and took over the country or something, but help them in their day to day ‘protect the city’ functions.

Which she was doing today. She was participating in a joint training exercise -her and the police together. They were going to respond to a simulated emergency so the police would know how to use her, and she would know how to help them. Useful in all regards.

Sarah arrived early to the large conference centre near the police academy that the first part of the day. She would participate in a kind of speech they called it - kind of a conference of LAPD personal. It was supposed to start at 9:00, she arrived at 8:00. Sarah was used to working in movies and arriving on set at 5:00 am.

However, sets usually had donuts waiting. Not here. There wasn't really a green room.

It should be pointed she rarely ever had a donut, as it could sit in her stomach, but she liked the idea of donuts. Ahh, well.

There was a woman with a clipboard.

"Oh wow!" the lady cop said. "You’re here early. This is really, I get to meet you!"

Sarah smiled at her as she checked her name - or well, her secret identiy...or well, whatever.

It was the thing with cops. Yeah, just about all of them were amazed to see her. She had posed for a lot of photographs, shaken a lot of hands, even signed a few autographs. If you guess right, there were assholes: especially when she was alone with them - but well, for her own troubles with the world she rarely saw it in beat cops. She had never really met Sgt. Bullocks from Batman. They were never that colorful.

However, she had met Commissioner Gordon. Or Francis, as he really was. He was...not what you’d expect. She had met the Mayor, and met the Police Commissioner, and while you couldn't say they should be switched - yeah, that’s not the wrong word.

He walked over and shook her hand, walking in around 8:30.

"Hey! Are you happy here? They treating you right?"

"Yeah," said Sarah "If I can talk a little bit with the guys running this before hand want to get a little bit more..."

"No problem."

That was a frequent saying of the guy, all in a thick Philly accent. He had spent most of his career in administration in the Philadelphia Police Department - during which time he had never actually arrested anyone out in the field. Whenever she dealt with a villain’s threats to the city-she never seemed to actually meet him or have him be actually involved. Instead...

He snapped his fingers at a cop. "Take care of her."

"You don't have to do that."

"No problem," and then he wandered off.

It was odd to see a uniformed police officer be snapped at. To see the younger man race over. The room was starting to fill up with cops and that looked odd too, hundreds of them together. It felt odd to wear her costume - but it was the same thing really.

Occasionally criminals would call her 'cop', 'copper’ or 'pig' (she hoped that was a police reference and not a joke about her  weight). Of course, Sarah wasn't a cop. She was an amateur. She wondered about it occasionally, especially at moments like this - 1800 cops; a full day - that was probably costing at least a 100k. Built around her. She did know that they had 3 people in their S division whose job was, well, to make more money out of this then she did.  She felt a bit like a college athlete, playing bochie ball or something stupid like that (she hated sports, so that may have been a bad analogy) risking devastating...bochie injuries. To throwing arm. Except they had the chance to go pro afterwards. Except there was no such thing as pro bochie ball. Okay it was a pretty crummy analogy.

She had thought, on occasion, about working for the government - either local or federal. Ahh, she probably would have gone mad, either with power, boredom, or rag...possibly all three at once. It was good just to be herself, even if she had to schedule these things for a mini hiatus when their main actor was on a press tour for a movie that he wasn't actually staring in.

But as the room filed, and some of the braver cops came forward to shake her hand, she thought about it.


"So yes, I operate on a basic rule of engagement that’s different then yours - I do not kill criminals under any circumstance."

A hand went up.

"I have been curious about this...and I hope this isn't a bad question...”

"There are no bad questions today" said the be glassed moderation

"So, yeah, why don't you?"

"Well, I’m not under any direct threat, so..."

"But what about other people? Civilians? What if killing someone is the only way of stopping them from detonating a bomb or pulling a trigger?"

"Well, I feel escalating the situation is never a good idea. And in every case, it’s never come to that."

"For you. What about hostage situations?"

Another officer spoke up. "Do you look down on us for using guns? I mean, I have shot two perps. Cleared for both."

"What if..." interrupted a third voice, "you were on the raid to take out Osama bin Ladden?"

These were all very good questions.

"Look, I think my job is to kind of shine a light on the world, to show it can be a better place."

Wow that was so the wrong answer for this crowd.

"We all have a job. Mine is different. I respect your job in all of its elements, it’s a different job but no better then mine. And no, I wouldn't have killed Osama Bin Ladden."

Well, she was getting on her real liberal high horse. Should she tell them her opinions on socialized medicine? She was glad her uncle back in Florida didn't know about her double life.      

The moderator stepped in. "The point of today’s lecture is how to incorporate her abilities into your tactics. We all agree that guns are the last step in any encounter. Her strengths can be useful in defusing situations."

There were parts of the crowd that where looking a little pissed. So not really.

"I will defend - I mean How quickly could you kill everyone in this room? It’s good that you have a desc..."

"46 seconds."

It was the kind of joke that really worked a little better or worse depending on her delivery.  It did not play well today.


After a long lecture that was fairly dry and a couple of dumb demonstrations (yes she could bend a medal bar; Yes after the  hundredth time, it was getting a little boring) they went outside.

A group of cops were to simulate a hostage situation. She was to work with four teams outside in succession to defuse the  situation.

There would be a debriefing afterwards. But no Donuts .

It was a tricky situation for her. Bullets could be simulated. Her punches, not so much. No, she didn't kill people...but  while she tried not to, she had put people in the hospital and she had done a fair amount of damage to property.

A lot less then she could have, all told. Superman in the comics once gave a speech about how he lived in a world of  cardboard. Badass when you’re talking to Darksied, but she wasn't talking to either a blatant rip-off of Darth Vader, or  someone who Darth Vader was a blatant rip-off of. She forgot. And she did live in a world of cardboard. Hell, 99% of the time  as ‘Mazing Girl she used 1 -2% percent of her power. And not just when she dealing with scientologists. It would have taken a  bar of diamond-infused tungsten steal for her to break a sweat - and probably a fairly light sweat even then.

Yeah, well it scared her. But Sarah never got into "Here comes Honey Boo Boo" so the Earth was kind of safe.

The ‘kidnappers’ were inside a small building, used usually by the police academy as a classroom, with a group of simulated  hostages. She met with a captain.

"Let’s be careful. Let’s form a good perimeter around it, don't let them escape and don't give them any room. ‘Mazing girl: Use your X-ray vision."

"As I told the group, I don't actually have X-ray vision. Which is a registered trademark of DC comics and Warner Communications."

"Just testing you. Charles: let’s get heat vision and sonar tests of the room.”

Soon a perimeter was formed and it was determined there were 20 hostages and 5 hostage-takers in the building.

"Get snipers in position," ordered the captain.

"So, what am I going to do? Use me," urged ‘Mazing Girl.

"HEY!" a loudspeaker called from within the building. "Is amazing bitch with you?"

Sarah sighed. She took a loudspeaker, walked forward beyond a barricade that had been formed  a cop held her back but.

"Yeah. I am walking forward so you can see me. Don't interpret it as a threat. Shoot me if you know that won't end  well."

Sarah walked 40 feet forward into an open position...and she felt a paintball hit her right breast. It jiggled a lot.

"You just did that to provoke a reaction."

"What are you going to do, Wonder Woman?"

Okay, he was really inviting a lawsuit here. And she recognized the voice.

"Oh, its you," observed ‘Mazing. "You’re the cop who wondered why I don't kill. Do you have a death wish?"

"For these people in here. You come one step closer...I blow their simulated heads off."

Sarah paused. "Here’s the thing. Hostage-takers, from my experience, want to live. If they don't blow their heads off in the  first 5 seconds, then their goal is survival. If you were playing this right. So would you?"

"Me and my group want to get out of here. And we want assurances that you won't chase us. No tails."

"Sure no problem."

"Come on! You can't do that!"

"I can fly you out of the city limits, anywhere you want really. Won't tell the police if you don't hurt the people in the room."


"Really. Yeah. I would do that."

"That’s insane."

‘Mazing Girl shrugged.

"Do you think I do this to punish people? I do negotiate with psychos like you."

(Movie reference!! Mazing girl was pleased.)

"Fuck you."
"And fuck you, simulated wack-job. Look, if the cops start shooting, 95% of you all die. 80% or more of your hostages die in  an enclosed space like that. My goal, above all, is to save people. Including you. I value human life. I value your life.  This is a game, and you can play however you want. But if this were real life, I would protect you. I would do my  damnest...and yes that does make me fucking better then you. Not because of my freakish mutant powers, but because of my  fucking morality. You don't have to like it. Tomorrow on the street you can shoot the fucking Pope...but this is how I operate."

She heard five guns drop and five people walked to the windows with there hands up.

"And yes, I was fucking lying about taking you out of town. Do you think I am a moron?"


The rest of the exercises went a little smoother. And yes, in one of them several of the hostages did 'die', which was sad.  But it went well over all.

And Sarah thought better of herself for it, and good about the human race.

She celebrated that night by getting shit-faced and watching "Americas Next Top Model". That show, at least occasionally, had  some trenchant insights into the world of modelling. And as she laughed at Tyra Banks obvious attempt to out vouge the  erstwhile contestants, she took comfort. Hero, unstoppable engine of destruction, high horse sounding asshole - maybe it was  good that she could share in humanity the simple pleasures like this.

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Weirder Spreadsheets of Live


"So you want to do this?" asked Chad. He had the aura, though he had asked the question a dozen times in the last three hours, that the answer would change to no.

Sarah didn't bother answering him. She took Chad’s hands and put them on her bra covered breast. She literally squeezed his hands into her large breast, letting him feel the weight and their firmness, their splendour, through her bra. She felt his hands were tentative - almost as if she was doing the work.

"You can take your shirt off."

"I have boobs," confessed sadly Chad.

Chad, it should be explained, was a nice guy.  He was a very nice guy, which Sarah liked. He was Sarah’s friend...not her best friend, but a good friend. He shared her love of movies and science fiction, if not quite her love of how it was put together. They were part of a clique of nerds-and not the only clique of nerds in Lincoln High school in Tallahassee.

He was also fat. Sarah, in high school, could be described as overweight...but also very statuesque. Her huge boobs distracted from her above average stomach. Chad was fat, and awkward...and human.

And Sarah was about to make love to him.


Sarah genuinely liked Facebook - it was a good way to make friends. Or keep up with contacts. Michael Zuckerberg didn't think about it, but in the entertainment industry one tended to meet a lot of people, be very close to them for a brief period, and move on. A perfect description of a Facebook connection. Sarah was friends with a couple of famous actors, and a lot of grips and extras.

But that wasn't all of them. Some where Like Chad, her friend from high school in Florida. On Facebook she learned that he went to the University of Florida, where he got a degree in computer something, and was now working on spreadsheet software in Atlanta. She also learned he was married and had a kid.

Sarah didn't put up a lot of photos of herself, as she was afraid of exposing her secret identity. Chad had. He was still fat, but not terribly. His wife was pretty. So was his son (well, pretty may not be the right word to describe a three year old, but you know what I mean).

He was doing what Facebook was also good for. He was coming to LA for a conference or something and wanted to have lunch.


"So you really want to do this?" asked Chad.

They where now both nude. It would be tricky at this point to stop.

Sarah climbed backward onto the bed opening her powerfully defined thighs. he looked at them. She normally wore dresses or pants to school so Chad never saw her legs. He absently started to stroke them as he sat on bed.

"You can climb on top of me," said Sarah.

"Really?" said Chad.

Sarah nodded.

Chad did, putting his mass over her body.

"I'm not too heavy?"

Sarah could lift up a tank. She couldn't juggle them, as that was physically impossible, but she could throw ’em. Chad didn't know that. Only her parents and her doctor did. And that one guy a couple of years ago who saw her in the forest and didn't say anything. It was her secret - now she was sharing her other secret with Chad.

"Your fine," assured Sarah. "You feel good.”

Sarah leaned up and kissed him, sucking a bit on his tongue as Chad at last started to relax a little. But only a little.

Sarah grabbed his penis, put it to her lips, and leaned up to take him.


"Yeah, I haven't seen iIon Man 3 yet," said Chad.

"Really?" Sarah asked. "You we’re just a huge fan of the comic."

They were eating lunch in a little Thai place of Normandie. Sarah had been there a couple times. She looked at Chad. Sarah had, since high school, turned from above average to rubenesque (though she had gained a lot of muscle in the process). Chad had gone the opposite direction and turned from fat to maybe plump. He had a better haircut and glasses, both the kind of things you go into the store to buy when you had money. He obviously had some, but not so much to flaunt it - or if he did it was in a way that didn't register in LA.

"You have a 3 year old, life priorities change"

Sarah nodded. "I could never get into it. Comicbook Iron Man is too much of a jerk."

"But that's his charm," observed Chad. "I actually didn't like the movies as much. He kind-of gets whittled down to a likeable dick. He’s a tech savvy James Bond - especially in the second movie."

"That wasn't very good," said Sarah.

"If you want to do a metaphor for alcoholism...that’s not it. So how was the third?"

"Ehhh," said Sarah. "It felt like it was trying a little hard from this desire to make him human, well...James Bond."

"Hard mix for a superhero."

Tell me about it, thought Sarah.

"Wonder what it’s like doing it for real," Chad mused.

It was a conversation they had before in high school. What was different was then Sarah was dreaming. She never did many actual super-heroic activities until college. Now it was reality. What was it like? I don't know read the rest of the stories in the series. Sarah couldn't summarize it to Chad. She felt very close to him and very far apart. Nothing changes with high school friends and yet nothing stays the same. "So hows the conference?”

"Ehh, not really that interesting. Spreadsheeting is one of things that you can say was probably perfected in 1987. Not much changed since then, so... Ahh. Microsoft is pretty much the only game in town too. So every couple of years they add a few whistles and bells and an industry tries to ring ‘em. But ehh."

"So why did you come?"

"Paid trip;"

Sarah giggled.


"Are you sure want to do this?" asked Chad, even as he thrust into her.

"Your doing it," said Sarah. "That’s it..."

They were having sex. Sarah would not qualify it as making love, but as sharing physical affection. Chad was decent, and he was trying. Something she already had experience with was people who didn't. He wanted to thrust into her and satisfy her, bending her slightly to increase contact with her clit. He was trying, and she was feeling an honest joy in the experience...a sense that it was.

He buried his head into her breasts - at last seeming released. not that kind of release but a release of tension, of fear, a sense that he was finally one with  the experience, truly there and inside of her. Close to her...with her.

"My god your boobs are awesome!!!"

It was the sweetest thing Sarah had ever heard.


Lunch was over before it begun.  Well not literally, as time functioned normally. It wasn't one of the weirder spreadsheets Shad mentioned.

Sarah learned a lot about Chad’s wife. She was a secretary at the company he worked for, and though she didn't quite think it (as it was to dark) the words ‘married him for money’ wafted into her brain. Which was a shame, really. For a half a second she thought of her entire life and realized perhaps it was: It was hard with romantic partners for her. She had never really been in love - not once, not really. At least at the time. Often rosy memories turned half-baked sexual encounters into love though. She loved in the past, occasionally in the future, but never in the present. She had never found the right one.

After lunch was over she walked to her car, pausing at a bus bench to sit. Where was her life going? Would she ever find someone to share it with? To share her secret...her fate?

In high school Chad had been very good at math and computers. She had been, to a degree, but went into art instead. Now Chad was probably wealthier then her, but didn't have Nathan Fillon as a Facebook friend (he had guest-stared on the show she worked on. He seemed nice enough guy, though was actually pretty chubby). Los Angeles was a nice place to live but expensive. The beaches, the restaurants,  it was...

A bus came right in front of her, opening the door.

She looked in.

LA also had a surprisingly robust mass transit system, but like a lot of people in LA, Sarah had never used it. She didn't now.

She waved.

The bus driver gave her a look that could only be described as dirty, but probably wasn't for reasons of the mass transit agency’s legal liability. The doors closed.


Then the bus hit a gas truck and exploded.

Tallahassee - 2003

"My god," declared Chad as he pushed himself into her.

This was tricky for Sarah. She didn't want to hurt him. Him most of all. At the moment as he was very close to pushing her over the edge  One of the biggest things in her life was that she had to work so very hard to be normal, but it was so engrained in her that at some level she didn't work at all - except in moments like this. Except when she had a super strong vagina that would eat him alive if she let it...chew him up and toss him out.

So she concentrated not on contracting it, but expanding it, pushing it open a tad as she closed her eyes to relax. It was hard having sex.

But as she shivered and felt alive like she never did, as beauty entered her brain and a shiver ran across her spine, as she felt him next to her and felt connected to something. And not, as in her darkest moments, a monster or a freak - but a hero of the orgasm-giving variety (could Superman say that?).  It was all so, so worth it. So worth it

And then he skewered her inside with dribbles of boy juice. And that was just great to. Just really great.

Sarah leaned over, and kissed Chads face. Not his lips, but his face.


How it precisely happened, Sarah didn't know. But it did. The bus had hit the truck. She wasn't paying attention, too caught up in her own private sorrows. The truck was burning but the truck driver was fine. Not so much the bus.

But now she could do something about it.

There wasn't a lot, or really any people, in the Koreatown  area on the street. LA could be pretty empty in the daytime in the city.  Which helped, and hurt her, to a degree but what can you do. It helped in that what she was going to do wouldn't have an audience.

She jumped off the bus bench and pushed the 8 ton bus away from the tanker, which was really was on fire.

She looked inside. The driver was trapped, but not the passengers. The front entrance had been crushed in the accident, however in the back people were streaming out in a panic. Had they seen her? Who knew? Who cared?

She was a superhero even wearing a sundress goddamit.

She pushed open the door to the cab, which was also on fire, and got in. The driver, yes, was air bag that was on fire. She paid her no mind. However, behind her was a woman in a wheelchair that had been pushed in the front of the bus.

"Help me!" Sarah said to no-one in particular.

Ahh well it didn't matter.

She grabbed the homeless and old looking, lady from her wheelchair with an easy pull of her hand, holding her on her shoulder. Sarah raced out and put her on the ground. She re-entered, and pulled the drivers seatbelt which she seemed to come off with an easy pull. Sarah looked dazed and confused over what happened, then turned inside.

She saw an older man had hit the side of the window and was unconscious. She reached to pick him up.

When the bus rocked. The fire had hits it tank.

She sheltered her partner with her body, and she pushed out the window...literally. It didn’t break but just flew across the street, hit a donut shop - and then broke. She jumped out with the guy - then did a step she sometimes did.

She ran to her purse, she pulled out her mask, (a copy of which she kept in there for extreme emergencies) quickly putting it on.

She saw one more person for some reason just panicking in the back of the bus.

"Please let it end...please let it end..." It was a punk boy of about 25, who looked tough enough, though thin. Yeah...courage: you can't buy it at a store.

Sarah walked over.

"Get away! Get away!!”

She ignored him and picked him up. The bus didn't look that stable. She moved to the end and kicked open a fire door and stood outside of it.

Then she realized all her clothing was on fire.


Her sundress was almost entirely gone at this point, burnt to a crisp and falling off in large pieces to the ground. Her bra snapped open when it hit her back, letting her cups fall out right into the street. Her modest-ish panties where holding in place, but well...her Mary Jane’s...

Thankfully Sarah herself was fireproof.

Yeah, she was surrounded by flames, holding up a kid...who she tossed to the ground while still on the bus so they wouldn’t catch that the fire that was covering her body.

God what about her hair? Oh fuck...

When she looked to see Chad staring at her.

The exact last person she wanted to see right now.


"Yeah we did it all night long. Me and Jennings," Chad said to his friend. "She was like oh oh oh, and I was like oh oh oh..."

Chad was a talker. It took him less than 24 hours after the event to tell every damn person he knew. Literally. Sarah learned she even told his priest. Everyone.

Chad didn't talk to everyone at school of course. Impossible. However, he told a lot who told more. And yeah, in about a week, all the stories were about Sarah.

Which, of course, was exactly what she wanted.

Chad was a friend of hers. A good friend even. She also had the distinct impression that he would never have sex voluntarily in his life - so throw him a fuck. He deserved it. I mean, he did lend her his thick bound printed Iron Man books. He deserved it. And telling people about it (which she freely admitted) probably improved his rep a bit. Maybe, just maybe, another girl would want to take her up his confidence despite the man boobs.

As for her - it was 2003. She was 16. Who cared if she slept around a little or had a fling? She had standards, and was empowered by her sexuality. She let it be that way. She had big boobs. Yeah some people snickered that she gave it to the fat kid, but some kinder people thought it was good of her to give it to the fat kid. So the fuck what?
It wasn't like she loved him. Despite inventing stories of oral sex and anal play, next week they would watch Stargate SG-! together.

It wasn't like she loved him.


Sarah stood in front of Chad in all her glory.

And a couple of people with camera phones.

Ahh, people had seen pictures of her boobs before. It wasn't hard to find on the internet. The newspapers, even TMZ, didn't show it. She was invulnerable; her costume was not. What people going to call her a slut for saving at least 5 lives from a burning bus?

"Will you please delete those?"

She had some standards. Most of them appeared to be doing as she asked.

However, Chad...her mask was intact but her goodies were present...

"Wow...'Mazing Girl..."

Sarah looked at him.

"Move along. This bus ain't stable."

She jumped up and climbed underneath it (making sure quickly that no one was left) and picked it up, hefting it over her shoulders for a second, the 15 ton weight light enough for her but unbalanced a tad. Still, she made do.

And then she jumped up.

As she was 100 feet up the second tank blew and there was a fairly huge explosion in the sky. Not gigantic really, but still pretty big as explosions went. Pretty damn big.

And Sarah was now totally nude.


She and Chad never had sex again. Never so much as kissed again. It was just a one time thing: an event.  She didn't want to break his heart by staying with him, making it more then that - and for the next couple of years, until college pushed them apart, he was squarely her second or third best friend at school.

But she often wondered. Did he want more? Had she hurt him by sleeping with him and running? The thought occasionally came to her. She didn't need X-ray vision to see his cock sometimes when they were together, and Sarah remembered what it did to her. She wondered... And there was something to his slightly bashful face; the way it saw her that knew it wanted her. Wanted her badly.

It was something she would learn very well.

For, yes, that was something, if anyone had asked her what being a superhero was really like. When people looked at her they always wanted her. That was the most prominent power of a superheroine. Not her huge E-cup boobs, plenty of girls had that, but she could make people love her. When she lifted a bus overhead half the people boys and girls got a woody. She was power and grace and even if a little fat, spectacular. She was a goddess to them.

Which made her feel a little guilty. 


Half an hour latter Sarah was able to find her spare clothing bag her car in the empty parking lot moving at super speed, and was now adjusting it. In an aley she put on a bulky sweater, a bra and sweats. Yes, she wore a bra she needed it.

She found a mirror somehow in the alley, and looked at the damage. Her skin of course was unhurt. Her hair was pretty bad - very badly singed, in a couple of placed burnt. Her bikini area was also burnt but her eyebrows were okay. She was covered in sweat and singe. God...her purse. It was still at the site. She hoped she could get it, as that would be a pain to replace.

But she was okay.

Though what about Chad? Did he know? Did he...?

He probably suspected.

She suspected a lot of people suspected. Some friends, co workers - but people rarely came up to her asked. She could make a category on Facebook of people like that. She always said no - and what could you do then?

Now Chad was there. But he was a talker.

Well...what could she do?

Chad was in town for a couple more days. She could either see him again or not. She kept that up in the air. She wouldn't call him, but if he called her...well.

And she wanted him to call her. Wanted it, if nothing else to know to clear the air, to see if their relationship had changed again. To be in awe of that, the idea of a person, the concept of just being someone alive.

Sarah finally knew what it was like to live in a world of heroes.

Which is something Zuckerberg did intend when he invented Facebook.

Friday, September 6, 2013

Proper Hygeine is Important

Well, no-one likes to go to a doctor.

For an invulnerable superheroine, this was trickier still.

Sarah was generally glad she had good health - and as far as could be told, fairly normal anatomy. Other then skin that was for all practical purposes unbreakable, bones too...well, general invulnerability, unlimited stamina, super strength. And the ability to hum really well.

However, if you gave her an X-ray (the hospital kind, not the superhuman type) you would find her normal enough lungs, pancreases things of that nature. So it all kind of worked, and kept her in, generally, pretty good health.

Which was good, because doctors tended to, like, to want to draw blood, and things like that.

But she was a having a problem, an embarrassing problem, and on this day she went dutifully to the doctors office, as was allowed under her Trade Guild medical plan...

Her doctor’s office was in a big medical building, which was good. It made it seem fancy and important, which she liked in professional service. Her accountant and her lawyer were all in big buildings too. She thought it would be cool to jump up to their offices and talk to them out the window but she knew the glass in these buildings was very thick and hard to talk through, and in this case she had to show her vagina off which would just be awkward 20 stories up.

And besides, she liked the big brass covered elevator.

She got in with about 5 other people. Elevators were fun. This wasn't a fast elevator. but it was a very nice looking one. She could appreciate good art design, being an art designer herself. If she hadn't gotten into movies, she probably would have ended up as something like an interior designer (she knew a lot of people who worked in her field who did that on the side) and she liked spaces.

She looked into the glass reflection to see a woman standing next to her.

Did she recognize her?

The woman was about 5'1 long black hair wearing a pants suit and a tie with a vest. Stylish enough. She had a slightly serious, sombre look.

She looked a bit more carefully at the woman’s face. Huh? Was there...? Did she know this woman? A good/bad thing about working in TV was that you saw a lot of people. Tons of actors, extras, crew members, passers-by on the street. Most days she was introduced to a dozen people, who scarcely went by her. And in her other line of work...well, even more. She wasn't a politician, but ‘Mazing Girl wasn't above shaking peoples hands.

But this woman...

She was pretty. Very small, very thin, with long black hair, and...


She waited for her to leave, not wanting to make the situation awkward.

However, on the 20th floor Sarah got out...and so did the woman she recognized as The Flame.

They walked forward down the hall - and Sarah opened the door to go into...

"Oh, are you here for Dr. Yamata too?" asked The Flame.

"Yeah," said Sarah.

She was 90 percent sure. That wasn't a good percentage. Not to really confront someone. Sarah had been confronted a couple of times about being 'Mazing Girl, But she suspected a large portion of her secret identity was based on the concept that people were just too awkward to ask her about it.

However, the woman noticed it before she walked in and whispered.

"Are you...."

Sarah nodded. "And you?”

The Flame nodded.

They walked in.

It was a nice waiting room. That’s what Sarah looked for in an office. Lots of girly magazines to which Sarah didn't read unless she was in a doctors office. Golf Digest which was a better magazine then you might imagine, even for someone who cared nothing for sports and less for golf.

Sarah found a chair. The Flame sat next to her.

"So...what are you in for?" asked Sarah.

"Pap-smear," said The Flame.

"It’s good to check that out every year," observed Sarah.

There was an awkward pause.

"I am having pain when I pee" said Sarah. "I think something with yeast."

"Ugh," The Eternal Flame shuddered.

"It’s getting greener..."

And The Eternal Flame let out a low laugh.

"I can't laugh when I’m in costume."

Sarah smiled at the Eternal Flame and put her hand on her thigh, and shook it.

"Wait, their going to call your name," Sarah said.

"Or their going to call your name," said Flame.

"Yeah," said Sarah.

"I’m going to go up ask to use the bathroom," said Flame. "Tell them. They'll find me as opposed to calling my name out-loud.

"This is silly," said Sarah.

"I agree," said Flame. "It’s the nature of things."

There was a pause.

"However, you know...maybe we can go out for drinks or something like reasons we can't be friends."

Flame closed her eyes. "I don't drink." She walked up towards the receptionist, who led her in.

Sarah waited for a long time. She got an issue of Golf Digest. She then realized that she was the only woman in the room. Which wasn't that unusual for a gynaecologist.

Sarah started to read the magazine, and was instantly entranced in a world of five-irons, tee times, and articles about professionals she didn't know or care about. There was the black dude they profiled. God, that was the first thing she thought about Tiger Woods? She was disgusted in herself.

And she pulled out her iphone and confirmed. He wasn't really black either. Yeah, she remembered that vaguely. He got into some weird trouble a couple of years ago.

And before she knew it was 1:30. Her appointment was for 1:10. No receptionist called her name. She went to the front, and realized there was no receptionist at the desk. She didn't remember her that well from her visit last time, but she was an older black....

Oh, fuck herself.

Sarah shrugged and looked in. She opened the door to the office...

"Is anyone here?" she called out...

And fell over unconscious.


Sarah awoke inside a small cage, inside a large black void.  Beyond the metal cage there seemed to be nothing, no walls, no ceilings, just darkness and black.

How long she had been out, she had no idea. She didn't feel any of the after effects of drugs or things like that. In fact, she felt fine.

The cage looked like something you would hold a rampaging gorilla in. lots of thick steel bars, 10 feet by 10 feet. Big...strong. It looked to be very well constructed.

Sarah grabbed two bars of it, and effortlessly pushed them open. She heard the whine of the metal as it went – however, while in the movies this took a while for superman to use his incredible strength against the metal, for her it was easy as plying two slices of bread apart. Actually, as she did so the metal stress literally pulled one of the bars out of the sockets, letting it fall in the air.
Childs play.

She suspected that she had an advantage, no-one would put ‘Mazing Girl in such a light cage.

She put her hand to the ground to feel the floor.

And felt nothing at all.


Sarah shrugged, and grabbed the edge of reality and pulled it back with her arms. Her awesome strength destroyed the fabric of existence easily enough.

The giant black void around her was ripped aside and she saw-a white void. For about a second.

Then what looked to be an Asian garden. The lines of pagodas, chrysanthemums, streams, and pine trees, formed out of nothing.

This looked simple enough.

Then came the ninjas.

They jumped in, spinning about as they tended to do in movies. Wearing black pyjamas, they came in from nowhere.

What her assailants probably didn't know, was that she had actually fought ninjas twice in the ast  last month, actually. The thing about real-life ninjas – they don't wear ninja getups. They actually tend to be real good at looking like normal people, particularly ones you don't notice. They had actually looked like a group of bums in one case and star trek cosplayers(which wasn't normal but well).

These looked like something out of a comicbook.

Which was fun for her, as she rarely encountered the absolute comicbook.

One of them came at her with a sword, with a mighty kai, to slash her in her half.

It hit her invulnerable skin and did less then nothing.

She  grabbed his hand and his sword and then proceeded to toss him out of the universe.

But now she had something fun to use.

There were about--oh 20 ninjas. conversation of ninjutisu.

She started to move faster then the normal eye could process.

She began, moving a 100 miles an hour, to slash them, cutting them up like cordwood. the blade was extremely sharp, and made quick work of them as they fell before they even realized what was happening to them, falling down to the ground in waves of mook. It was fun.

However, for each ninja she dispatched into small ninja chunks - taking one, tossing him into the ground, and cutting him into exactly 5, more appeared. Exactly...

She had managed to dispatch 85 of them in about 20 seconds. However, this was still taking too much time.

She punched the ground. It was something she always wanted to do. Hell, the great danger was less the ninjas then the part of her that just wanted to cut loose, to be the infinitely strong, infinitely powerful person she fantasised about - which was complicated by the fact that she actually was infinitely strong and powerful.

But with at least 500 ninjas, this should help with that.

The punch sent a giant shockwave through the garden, breaking most of the structures, creating a gigantic rift through the environment, a wave of devastation over the ground. The ninjas flew backward from the punch, flying through the air as if they had been hit by a bomb. Which they had, in effect. The ones nearest to the blast almost disintegrated into nothing, and nothing was there, just them.

And five more appeared.

There were now at least 2500 ninjas around her.

And they started to act funny.

There is a concept in video games called frame rate - the idea if too much is on the screen things start to take a hit - and the reality of, say...Call of Duty changes from smooth sense of the real, to a choppy mess.

The same thing was happening with her world. 

They were moving slowly, if at all, appearing in blurry sync, giving a sense that they were copying motions of each other - they flickered in and out of existence, in and out of reality.....

And she noticed to her left a small crack in reality with something past it...

And ‘Mazing Girl pushed her way in.

There probably weren't too many layers left.


She was in a large house. Actually, too large. She was clearly in a hall but everything was at least 10 feet tall. However, it was a hall...the concepts of the universe where ill-defined for space here, ill-defined for reality.

Then she had a sense perhaps of where she was. She was in a child’s home, a child’s space - she was looking up at the railings of a stairway going down into a children’s living room with pictures and shapes that a child would see.  It wasn't her as a child. This was clearly a very large split-level home...almost Victorian. She grew up in a tract home bungalow but it was a childhood nevertheless. She looked around for a second and tried to get her bearings.

Then the voice...

"How long can you hide Jarmin? You are still pathetically trapped in your meaningless existence."

It was a loud male voice that had an outrageous accent. However, she wasn't quite sure of it. Well she shouldn't worry too much about races and stereotypes. That was today’s lesson.

Well, not really, but there she was.

She paused. And realized if someone was hiding she probably should make herself visible.

"Hi! HI!!" she shouted, and then waved her hands.

"What?" demanded the voice.

'You captured me in this reality. Tried to lock me in a cage, Attacked me with ninjas – um, what’s going on here?"


"I don't get that a lot," Sarah said, "But thanks for the compliments."

A door opened. And out came a small man. Wearing a...what looked to be stereotypical...well, Asian clothing (Jesus Christ). She sighed. She really couldn't narrow it down more then that. God she was just the worst person today.

She saw in the door a small boy, standing in the corner turning his head to the wall. He looked vaguely familiar. Well, no matter. Because a huge-10 foot tall Doberman Pincer also climbed out. They normally looked very friendly...but this one...snarled like a wolf

"It’s not your demon American - but it will do I think.”

"No," said Sarah.

She then punched it in its face and it disintegrated.

"What is going?" said Sarah.

Out of a door came The Flame, wearing her street clothes.

"it’s no use,  shalk –  you can't fight both of us at once. Your can create your mental prisons, but you still need to use your own mind. You can't keep so many inside at once. You were never that good a jailor."

"But you’re a weak nothing!" said Shalk "A little...”

"Well, she is the strongest woman I know," said The Flame. "can you destroy him?"

And Sarah leaned in and punched Shalk so hard that the entire mental universe she was in collapsed.


Sarah woke up on the floor outside the waiting room. Her nose hurt. She had fallen funny. Still, she got up and walked into the room.

She saw that the receptionist, a nurse, and her gynaecologist where all waking up in various rooms of the clinics. As she came into the main observation room she saw The Flame doing the same. And next to her the one identified as Shalk was unconscious.

"shalk is an old foe. an enemy from my past. he tracked me down, I suppose. thanks for your help in dealing with him. he’s quite powerful."

Flame’s voice had changed from normal human, to...well, The Flame’s. Sarah hadn't noticed it inside the dream. She wondered which of them was real and which was fake. Still, she just looked very small and vulnerable in her normal clothing. She was so small. Close-up she looked to be maybe 30 - but still, she had the aura of a child, yet there was something haunted about her.

"He attacked at your gynaecologists," said Sarah, "That’s pretty fucked up."

"where we’re vulnerable and human," observed The Flame, "smart move. i would have done it. and no regrets either. It’s what I am. i take people like him and punish them. but I am no better. not really."

Sarah looked at Flame. " You know - I didn't see your private...hell, I guess. not really, can... "

Flame looked forward. "The world requires me to stay there. To be The Flame that guards it. An eternal vigilance. It’s who I am. The price I bear."

Then Ms Cindy Kramer, their gynaecologist, came in. "so what the fuck just happened?"

The Flame smiled. and talked in a normal voice.  "I think maybe there was a gas leak - this poor gentleman seems to have been effected more...maybe we should call him an ambulance."

"Who is he?" asked Cindy.

"I'm as much at a loss as you are, Dr. Kramer."

"Let’s all go see a doctor. I still feel loopy. It’s like someone talked in my head for the last 4 hours, all in Bhutanese. I mean...a doctor who isn't me. I know what I mean."

"Um...I  feel fine, but I came for a yeast infection/"

"Go buy some   Monistat,   Douche. And remember: Proper hygiene. If you let stuff fester inside of you it tends to break out into really nasty stuff."

Oh...that was the lesson!!! That was the lesson.

Sarah walked out. She then looked for a second more at Flame. Her eyes met hers, for a second they were human. Then  Sarah  looked down at Shalk. And they were something else. She wondered if the flame would learn it.

But, ehh, she remembered from biology if you didn't let things fester inside  your inestines wouldn't work and you would wither and die. So many be keeping the demons had value..and

She walked past the black receptionist and...

Oh, fuck...