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Subject: SG2: My Heart Of Steel Is Like Putty In Your Hands (CR: 10, 9, 9)
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These stories are very naughty, and since only
adults should
have naughty thoughts, you shouldn't read them if
you are
under 18 years old!

Supergirl is a trademark of DC Comics.

The entire Supergirl series and similar stories
can be found on the WWW site:

http://www.cris.com/~tooshoes/PenPartners.html
---------------------------------------------------

     My Heart Of Steel Is Like Putty In Your Hands

     "Hey there! Where you at girl?" Mary asked,
bringing Linda back to her senses. She had been
looking
beyond Mary, out into space -- literally. She was
looking through the cafe walls, beyond the
buildings of
Metropolis University, right on out into
outer-space.
     "I was just thinking about home," Linda said,
then
she laughed. "Funny huh? I mean, all my friends
and
family are right here, and I never felt so free
and
happy as I do right now, but I feel like my heart
is
tugging me home."
     "You better put a leash around that heart of
yours, 'cause nostalgia ain't none of what its
cracked
up to be," Mary said with her finger pointed right
in
Linda's face, making her quiver and nod her head
in
agreement. "This is your new home now! Hell,
you've
been here a year already -- how can you even
remember
your old home? From what ya've told me, why would
you
want to remember it?"
     "I don't know," Linda replied quietly, but
she
didn't want to tell Mary that just being with her
made
Linda feel a little like she was back at home.
     Back in Argo City, Linda (or Kara) had been
just
barely a woman at 17, and that meant she had two
strikes against her. Her native culture was
strongly
patriarchal, and extremely disciplinary towards
its
youth. These traditional attitudes became all the
stronger with the intense pressures of a doomed
society, so that even Kara's father, Zor-el who
loved
her more than his own life, would strike her
without
thinking if she disobeyed him.
     What a surprise it was when she arrived in
Metropolis, where women and men were nearly
equals, and
the professors never talked down to their
students.
Linda had always dreamed of such a place, but she
could
never quite get used to being told to think for
herself
and assert herself.
     "Oh, shit!" Mary suddenly cried out, causing
Linda
to jump up in her seat.
     Everyone in the cafe seemed to jump at once,
when
a young bearded man, who looked a little too rough
to
be a college student, came charging out of the
men's
room waving a knife in the air.
     Hurrying after him was another man, also
waving a
knife.
     That's what everyone saw.
     Everyone but Linda, that is.
     Linda was stunned by the sight of this second
man,
who had long dark hair, and an imposing chin. He
wore
an old black jacket that had long since lost it's
shine, fashionably torn jeans, and a sparkling
white t-
shirt, no design. He looked so much like many of
the
young, angry men she remembered from back in Argo
City
that she couldn't take her eyes off of him. His
eyes
were fearless and fierce. His body was rippling
with
energy. And his boorish, simple clothing showed
impeccable taste, she thought.
     Even the sound of his voice transfixed her,
when
he cursed at the bearded man: "Stay where you are,

pussy, and get what's coming to you!"
     Apparently the bearded man wasn't listening
as
closely as Linda was, because he tried his best to
get
away.
     He ran straight towards Linda.
     Mary and everyone else scattered, clearing an

escape route for the pursued man, but Linda just
stood
there, doing exactly as she was ordered. She stood

right there, as both men charged her way, and she
got
what was coming to her.
     A knife to her neck. The bearded man, in
desperation, grabbed her, pressed the blade of his

knife to her throat, and he held her between
himself
and the other man, the man Linda had fallen in
love
with in a heart beat, who stopped only a few feet
away
and stared into her eyes.
     She felt her knees go weak and her palms wet
with
perspiration. Maybe these were normal reactions
for
someone in her delicate situation, but she was not

feeling normal feelings.
     "Stay the fuck away from me, or I swear I'll
kill
her," spat the bearded man right in her ear.
     Suddenly, the other, wonderful man seemed to
have
forgotten his anger, and Linda searched his eyes.
Was
he as taken by her as she was by him? Or was he
just
worried for her safety, like he'd be worried for
any
other woman whose life was threatened? There was a

third possibility that never occurred to her.
     "Leave her alone . . . please!" Linda heard
Mary
yell.
     Linda tore her eyes away from her loved one
and
sought out Mary. "Don't worry, Mary. He won't hurt
me."
     Then she felt the knife dig into her throat,
and
the bearded man spitting into her ear, again.
"That's
right, honey, if everyone doesn't back off right
now,
I'll gonna cut you so hard and so fast that your
head'll fall right off. Won't hurt a bit."
     Everyone took a step back, including her
dream
lover, the man with the concerned eyes. He caught
the
bearded man's attention, directed it towards his
knife,
and lowered it to the ground.
     "Wise move, Sam," the voice spitted into her
ear
again, and Linda felt herself being pulled
backwards.
     Sam, Linda thought will irrational glee. She
loved
the name, and she repeated it over and over in her

mind. Sam. Sammy. Samuel. Samu-el.
     "Now we're just gonna walk slowly out of
here,
pretty girl, into my car," the man who wasn’t Sam
whispered in Linda’s ear. Then he spoke more
loudly for
everyone to hear, "And don't anyone think of
following
us, if you hope to see her alive again!"
     Linda felt her heart aching as she was pulled
away
from Sam. She saw the desperate, concerned,
furious,
defeated look in Sam's eyes. She hated that look.
It
did not fit him at all. She wanted to see the
brave,
confident man she saw just a few moments before.
     Then, without really thinking, she knew what
to
do. She pretended to slip or trip over something.
Her
would be captor was startled, and in an effort to
avoid
cutting her neck accidentally, he dropped the
knife.
     When Linda looked up, her brave hero was on
top of
him, pounding his bearded face with fist after
fist
until Sam’s hands were bloody, and the bearded man
lay
writhing on the floor.
     "Oh my God, Linda! Are you OK?" Mary cried
out as
she helped Linda off of the floor.
     Linda felt weak and just a little dizzy, but
she
nodded, "Yeah, I think so."
     "Oh, God, you are so fucking lucky Linda! You

should be dead right now."
     Linda didn't feel so lucky. She glanced over
at
Sam, feeling a little sad because he seemed to
have
forgotten all about her. He was talking to a
policeman,
now, who had just arrived at the scene. Sam didn't
even
look at her once.
     "Are you sure you are OK, Linda?" Mary asked
again, looking at her carefully.
     Linda looked back at Mary and nodded her
head,
again.
     "I can't believe you got away with just this
little scratch," Mary marveled.
     Linda's eyes opened wide, and she gasped.
"Scratch? What scratch?"
     Mary consoled her, "Don't worry, it's
nothing."
     "He cut me?" Linda seemed panicky.
     Mary touched Linda's neck and showed her a
tiny
drop of blood on her fingertip. "See? It's
nothing.
It's not even worth putting a band aid on."
     This time Linda wasn't acting when her legs
gave
out beneath her. She felt her heart suddenly race
and
her mouth dry up. "What happened?" she asked to no
one
in particular. "He could have killed me!"
     "Shh," Mary said, consoling her as best she
could.
"It's over now."
     Linda looked in her eyes and shook her head.
"No,
no. He really could have killed me!"
     Then Linda felt a strong hand on her
shoulder. It
was him, Sam. She looked up at him, caught between
an
irrational feeling of love that swept over her,
and the
sudden terror of knowing how close to death she
had
come. She didn't know which feeling made her feel
weaker just then.
     Sam glanced at Mary. "She OK?"
     Mary looked back at him suspiciously, but she
was
polite. "I dun know. I think she's in shock."
     Sam helped Linda up, and she immediately
leaned
into him, closing her eyes, clinging to him.
     "Linda?" Mary asked, surprised. "Come on, I
think
maybe I should take you home."
     But Linda clung tightly to Sam. Maybe she
couldn't
even hear Mary's voice -- at least she didn't
respond
to it.
     All she could feel was Sam's leather jacket,
smooth against her finger tips. She felt Sam's
breath
in her hair. She felt Sam's reluctant arms come
around
her and hold her.
     And she felt the rising erection of Sam's
dick,
even through layers of clothes, brushing against
her
hip.
     "You were very brave back there . . . Linda,
right?" Sam asked gently, though he was awkward at

gentleness. It didn't sound right. It almost
sounded
like he was teasing her.
     But Linda didn't notice. She whispered,
"Thank
you. Thank you very much for saving me."
     "Hold on, there, girl!" Mary said sternly,
trying
to get her friend's attention. "He didn't save
you.
Damn, he and that other guy nearly got you
killed!"
     "Hey!" Sam objected. "I never meant to hurt
anyone, except that killer -- yeah! He's a killer.
He
killed two of my buddies, and I wanted to make
sure he
paid for that. But the last thing I wanted was for
your
friend Linda to get hurt."
     Mary ignored him. "Common, Linda, let's go
home."
     Linda shook her head. She felt weak and
scared,
and she just wanted to hide. She wanted to hide in

Sam's arms. She wanted to escape into his life,
wherever he lived it. She wanted him, whoever he
was.
     And she sensed that he wanted her, too. It
was not
just a subtle feeling. It was hard physical
reality.
     "She obviously wants to be with me right
now," Sam
told Mary. "Maybe she needs to take a short walk
to
help her get over this, then I'll take her home."
     Take her to Sam's home, that is. And then
just
take her.
     Linda was shocked and confused, but she was
never
confused about that.
     In fact, walking with him like this felt
oddly
familiar.
     Sam was very sweet for a while. He understood
that
Linda had just gone through something traumatic,
so he
was gentle with her, holding her in a half embrace
as
they walked under the setting sun, away from the
college, and towards his home in Metropolis. He
couldn't resist letting his hand wander, feeling
the
side of her breast, or the curve of her ass.
     Linda liked the attention, and she was
thrilled
that he was excited by her.
     At the same time, though, she was troubled by
what
nearly happened. What was wrong with her? She felt
very
weak, even for an earth woman, and she knew from
her
cut that she was vulnerable. She couldn't hear
beyond
the normal human range, and she couldn't see
through
anything thicker than paper.
     What happened? Would she ever get her powers
back?

                        *  *  *

     Sam lived in a dirty, uncared for studio
apartment, out of character with his good taste in

clothes. He hung pictures of beautiful women on
his
walls, all of them nude, all of them in
compromising
positions. Upon seeing them, Linda crossed her
arms in
front of herself. Another wave of dizziness swept
over
her, and she had to reach out to Sam for support.
     Beer cans were lined up around the room, like
they
were decorations. Carelessly tossed among them
were a
few trophies -- she couldn't tell what they were
for.
     Linda noticed a tray of kitty litter, so she
knew
there must be a cat around, but she couldn't see
him
anywhere.
     Laying out in the center of the small
apartment
was a double bed, unmade, with sheets that
couldn't
have been cleaned in weeks. Linda didn't want to
look
at it. She didn't really want to look at anything
in
this room, which seemed so hostile to her.
     Except for Sam, whose arm sheltered her, and
who
looked at her warmly. Maybe a little too warmly.
The
arm that sheltered her also explored her, brashly
stroking her breast through the thin fabric of her
t-
shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra, so he had easy
access
to her nipple.
     She wasn't wearing her Supergirl uniform,
either.
She almost never wore it under her clothes,
anymore,
because it was impossible to hide while trying to
be
fashionable. Instead, she kept it folded up in her

purse.
     "My purse!" Linda cried out, as Sam's hand
tried
to slip under her shirt. She pulled away slightly.

     "What about it?" he asked with a hint of
amusement, perhaps thinking that Linda was gonna
try to
play a little hard to get, a little too late.
     "I left it in the cafe," she replied, backing
away
slowly from Sam, who was walking towards her, even

though she was only a few inches away.
     "We have to go get it," Linda insisted
unconvincingly, as Sam backed her into the wall.
She
straightened up instantly. Her eyes were captured
by
the eyes of her predator.
     "Why? What's in it?"
     That shut Linda up. She couldn't tell him
that.
     But he wanted to make sure she stopped
talking, so
he filled her mouth with his tongue.
     She couldn't even think about the purse now,
as
wave after wave of sensation filled her body,
exciting
her, paralyzing her.
     Finally Sam went for her shirt, lifting it
quickly, while still kissing Linda, muting any
possible
objections. Far from object, Linda made his job
easier
by lifting her arms.
     Off came the shirt.
     And off came the wig.
     Linda didn't even notice until Sam paused and

stared at her in awe and recognition.
     "What?" she asked a little panicked, thinking
she
knew exactly what.
     He shook his head, and said, "You look so
familiar."
     He took a step back and looked her over, the
blonde hair, the stunning face, and the round,
firm
breasts.
     "Damn, you are hot!" he said. "You look just
like
one of the Penthouse Pets Of The Month from last
year,
I think, but I can't remember which one."
     Linda sighed, and he interpreted that as an
invitation to escalate -- not that Sam would have
waited for an invitation, anyway, she thought.
     He nearly swallowed her nipple, sucking it
hard,
making Linda gasp, as he fumbled with her shorts
and
panties, pushing them down together until they
stopped
at her sneakers. She slipped her feet out of the
loose
fitting sneakers, and he slid her garments
completely
off, leaving her completely naked, except for a
pair of
socks.
     Then, to Linda's shock, Sam grabbed her
shoulders
roughly and tossed her on the bed. She hit the
firm
mattress with a smack, sending a concussion
through her
not- so-super body that was almost painful, but
strangely exciting.
     Sam grabbed her legs and forced them open,
making
Linda gasp with surprise. Her eyes were half open
with
anticipation. She wanted for him to touch her, to
taste
her, to tease her with his tongue. That was the
kind of
love- making she had become accustomed to, since
she
had landed on earth a year ago. Good old fashioned

intercourse was forbidden, because of the harm a
pussy-
of-steel could do to an ordinary man's dick.
     But Sam did not know about that. He dove
right in,
and started pumping away, putting all of his
strength
into each thrust.
     Linda cried out and shivered, stunned by the
impact of this man's dick, which bottomed out deep

inside her, and rubbed against her pussy, which
was not
yet ready for him. At the same time, his chest
crashed
down on her's, making it hard for her to breath
smoothly, and his chin bumped against her cheek.
All of
his force was concentrated into an instant, like a

boxer, who concentrates the full weight of his
body
into every punch.
     But after several seconds, Linda's pussy
started
flowing, and adjusting to his size. In her growing

excitement, that pain started feeling good. Really

good.
     She could hear his excitement growing. She
could
feel it, too, as he started fucking even faster
and
harder.
     She tried to meet his thrusts with her own.
Now,
she couldn't get enough of him fast enough. The
aching
in her pussy now expanded to her belly, as though
a
pressure was growing within her, like the warning
tremors before an earthquake.
     She threw her head back. She might have said
some
thing or even cried out, but she wasn't aware of
it.
Her whole body convulsed and twisted, and tears
squeezed from her eyes, as she came hard, more
intensely than ever before.
     The wonderful assault on her body continued
for a
few more seconds, almost making her come again,
when
Sam slowed and pushed in as deep as he could,
moaning
something, and then unloading his passion.
     Linda felt so very, gloriously weak, now,
immobilized by the aftershocks. She felt totally
at
peace, totally in love. She wanted to kiss him and
hold
him. She felt so close to him after what they just

shared.
     But he just rolled off and lay beside her.
     He must have been exhausted, she thought,
after
all he had done most of the work.
     "Damn!" he finally said, "you are so fucking
hot!"
     She reached out and held his hand. He didn't
object to that, and she was happy.
     But it lasted for less than a minute. Then,
Sam
sat up and started getting dressed.
     "Sorry, babe, but I forgot something. I have
to
go."
     Linda looked confused.
     He continued getting dressed and didn't look
at
her, "I'll be back in an hour or two, ready to
fuck
your sweet pussy again."
     Linda sat up, saying, "But ...", then
trailing off
into nothing. That's what she suddenly felt like:
nothing.
     Then suddenly she saw his eyes change, just
for a
second. He almost looked kind.
     "Hey, babe, I'm really sorry, I really have
to go.
Make yourself at home. Do me a favor? I've got a
full
fridge. Make something for when I get back. You
know,
nothing too fancy. Maybe some spaghetti or
hamburgers."
     Linda nodded, though she had never used a
stove
before in her life.
     She heard him pouring something in the other
room
before he left. "Hey cat, come an' get it! ," he
yelled, and a small patched cat appeared from
under the
bed and ran into the other room.
     Then Sam was gone.
     She was all alone. Except for the nameless
cat.
     She slipped into her panties and walked into
the
other room. The cat looked up from his food and
they
just stared at each other.
     Then Linda whispered to him, "Sorry little
fellow,
I'm the new pet of the month."

                         * * *

     "Mary!" Linda cried, and she hurriedly
removed a
pair of chains from the door and let her best
friend
inside. "I'm so glad to see you!"
     Mary stepped inside, and she glanced around
at
Sam's immaculately clean apartment, decorated in
Linda's own, unusual style. The skin on Mary's
face was
tight, and her eyes bloodshot from hours of worry.

"Well you'd never know by the way you've been
hiding
out in here. Are you okay?"
     Linda nodded. She had a strong impulse to
just
grab Mary and hold on to her tight, but she
didn't,
because Mary felt uncomfortable about being
touched.
     "Thank God!" Mary smiled and sighed in
relief.
"I've been looking all over for you. I thought
that
maybe . . . oh, I'm just glad you're all right. I
just
wish you called. Did ya forget your own phone
number?"
     They just looked at each other for an awkward

silent moment, with a hundred words and a hug or
two
just dying to break through the silence, but they
held
back.
     "So . . ." Mary said, breaking eye contact.
"Why
all the locks on the door? The neighborhood's not
all
that bad. Hell, my neighborhood back home is worse
than
this. Are you trying to keep Sam out?"
     Linda laughed almost desperately.
     "Hey, no joke. The guy is scum."
     "Please . . ." Linda said, and looked away.
     "A few of my friends say that Sam's a
pusher."
     Linda looked confused.
     "Yeah, you know, pushes drugs."
     Linda shook her head to deny it, but really
she
had no idea.
     "Do you love him?" Mary asked.
     Linda wanted to say yes, but she couldn't.
She
felt something like love, but she knew it wasn't
the
real thing.
     "If you don't love the creep, then why are
you
throwing your life away for him, girl? You've
missed a
week of classes at school. If you miss much more,
you'll never make it up."
     Then Mary startled Linda when she put a hand
on
Linda's shoulder. "And you don't look so good,
neither.
I've never seen you look so unhappy and sick, like
he's
sucking the life right out of you."
     Linda couldn't meet Mary's eyes. She didn't
want
to have this conversation.
     "Oh! You haven't seen Sam's cat," Linda said,

suddenly, too desperate to change the subject to
even
try at subtlety. She rushed into the other room
and
scooped the cat up. He was still half asleep when
she
returned. "Isn't he really cute?"
     "The guy uses people," Mary said, with eyes
hard
and penetrating, almost mesmerizing to Linda,
forcing
Linda to look away. "He's living off of your
dependency. He's playing you like a game."
     "Pet him, Mary," Linda said while very
gently,
very affectionately touching -- "him". Suddenly,
she
realized that "he" didn't have a name. She wasn't
even
sure "he" was a male.
     Mary sighed, and decided to try something
else.
"OK, Linda," she said while reaching out to touch
the
cat, but she retreated when he hissed at her. "Can
we
sit down while we talk?"
     Linda nodded and led Mary into the living
area,
where they sat down side by side on the sofa.
     "So what's he like?"
     "He doesn't usually hiss like that, I --"
     "Dammit, Linda, I'm talking about Sam."
     "Oh," Linda said, and then shut up again.
     "What's he like in bed," Mary said with an
edge of
teasing.
     Linda smiled, feeling a little more
comfortable.
"Oh, he's ... wild. He says I make him crazy. He
thinks
I'm pretty."
     Mary nodded. "That just proves he's not
blind,
Linda. How does he make you feel? Do you like it
wild?"
     "Oh, yeah, it almost hurts, but, you know, it

feels so good," Linda said, while still petting
the
cat.
     "Then why do you look so fucking unhappy?"
Mary
said, shocking Linda. "What do you do afterwards?
Do
you sleep in each other's arms?"
     Linda shook her head.
     "Does he ever make you feel special? Does he
ever
do anything for you? Or does he make you do
everything
for him? Hell, Linda, does he have you doing his
laundry, cooking his food, cleaning up after him?"

     Linda couldn't speak. She pet the cat
desperately,
cooing him, cooing herself, but she couldn't hold
back
the tears anymore.

                         * * *

     Mary was right, Linda finally admitted. Mary
had
stayed for almost an hour convincing her,
consoling
her, and encouraging her to leave Sam right away
and
come home with her. But Linda couldn't do that.
She
couldn't just walk out on Sam without at least
saying
goodbye. Mary said that saying goodbye wasn't a
good
idea. Call him, she said, Say goodbye from home.
Linda
couldn't do that. Then let me stay with you, Mary
insisted, until he gets home. Linda couldn't do
that
either. She still loved Sam, and she couldn't
treat him
bad. But she knew Mary was right. She had to leave
him.
Loving him was killing her. He was as bad for her
as
Kryptonite.
     So she waited there in the living room,
stroking
the cat, comforting him, saying that everything
was OK,
the way that she wished someone would comfort her
right
now.
     How would she tell him? She didn't have a
clue,
and that was bad. This was so hard to do, but it
was
almost impossible without a plan. She would tell
him
right away. No, she would tell him after having
sex. He
was much less irritable then. That was it. It was
decided. Tonight, in bed.
     "Tonight," She whispered to the cat. He was
her
witness. "Tonight."

                         * * *

     "Heeey baby!" Sam yelled out, full of cheer,
when
he walked through the door that night. His right
hand
was tucked behind his back. Linda tried to see
what he
was hiding, but her vision wasn't what it used to
be.
She may even need glasses, the way things were.
     "You look really happy," Linda said, almost
as a
question. Sam only smiled a few times since Linda
had
known him, and it was usually a wicked sort of
smile.
But this smile was genuinely happy.
     And he expressed his pleasure in a most
wonderful
way when he produced a single red rose from behind
his
back and held it out for Linda to take. He didn't
warn
her about the thorns, and the flower looked like
it had
been twisted off from a plant in somebody's
garden. It
wasn't even a very pretty rose, having signs of
decay
on the outer petals. But Linda didn't care about
that.
All her sadness, all her desperation, and all her
fears
seemed to wash away when she held the flower in
her
hands. This was a sign that he loved her. It
wasn't
much, but it was something. For almost a week she
had
been begging for a sign of his love, or even just
a
hint of affection, and now she had it. He just
didn't
know how to express it very well most of the time,
and
maybe he hurt her at times, but if he could do
something this nice, she could forgive him. She
had to
forgive him. She couldn't help it.
     "Oh, it's beautiful!" Linda cried, and she
tried
to kiss him.
     But he moved away, as if kissing her would
spoil
his good mood. "Guess what happened today! That
sonofabitch who killed some of my buddies -- you
know,
the guy who almost shredded your throat in the
cafe.
Well, the cops fuckin' put him away, and they
threw
away the key!"
     Linda tried to share in Sam's excitement.
"Oh,
that's great! No one was safe with someone like
him
around."
     Sam looked at her kind of funny, as if she
didn't
have a clue about anything. "Yeah, well, I'm so
fuckin'
happy that I feel like celebrating."
     Linda smiled.
     Sam looked in the kitchen. "Hey, you didn't
cook
any dinner."
     Linda's smile dropped like a rock. She had
forgotten about dinner, while she had planned her
departure tonight, but she couldn't tell Sam that.
Not
now.
     Sam was in such a good mood he wouldn't let
that
little detail spoil it. "Hmm, that's OK, I wasn't
thinking of eating in anyway. How does my little
pet
feel about a little dinner and dance?"
     Linda's face lit up like a bulb. She was so
happy
she couldn't contain herself. Her whole body
shivered,
as she wanted to just reach out and hold Sam
tight.
     Her emotions burned so brightly that they
even
warmed Sam's heart, while hardening another part
of his
body.
     "You are so fucking gorgeous, you know that?"
Sam
said. "You're as hot as any of those babes in the
magazines."
     It wasn't exactly what Linda had hoped to
hear,
but it felt really good all the same, knowing that

maybe it was the biggest compliment that Sam knew
how
to give her. "Thanks," she said, as she averted
her
eyes shyly.
     "You know. . ." Sam started as he reached
into his
bureau. "We've got more than an hour to waste
before we
can go out tonight," he said, returning with a
camera
in his hands. "How would you like to be a
centerfold
for a night?"
     She surprised herself by nodding quickly. Was
that
really what she wanted to do, or would she do just

about anything to please him?
     No, she suddenly realized, it was what she
wanted
to do. She wanted to be smothered by his
attention. She
wanted to lose herself in his fantasy. She wanted
to
see the desire in his eyes. She wanted to feel
sexy.
     And that's how she felt right now, as she sat
on
the bed, quickly down to just panties and a bra.
Sexy.
     Sam wasted only 3 exposures of 36 so far. He
took
one picture when she removed her blouse. One
picture
for her skirt. And one for her pantyhose. He was
saving
the rest for the good stuff.
     "OK," Sam said, like a director on a movie
set,
"Keep strokin' your cunt, but with your other hand

squeeze your tit through the bra. Keep looking at
the
camera. Yeah, that's it. Mmm. Now, squeeze it a
little
lower. No,no. Squeeze it so the tit comes out, and
I
can see your nipple. Yeah, yeah, that's fuckin'
hot!"
     Linda felt a little embarrassed at first, but
then
she was just feeling really hot and excited. She
wanted
to take her soaking panties off so bad, and touch
her
pussy directly. But she knew Sam was as eager as
she,
and he would get around to it soon enough -- as
soon as
she was so hot she couldn't take it anymore!
     For the moment, he just wanted to take those
pictures and tease her along. The flash blinded
her,
when Sam captured the unveiling of another nipple
on
film.
     "OK," he said, "Off with the bra completely."

     Linda struggled with it for a second, and Sam

impatiently grabbed it and tore it off of her body
in a
tremendous yank, the impact scratching her back
and
arms, and shaking her body, making her feel
totally
awake and totally excited.
     Sam was losing patience now. At first, he
truly
seemed to be trying to take good pictures, but now
any
artistic desires he might have had gave way to
simpler
desires. "Let me see you naked now."
     Linda eased out of the panties, and lay back
down
on the bed, her face flushed red, her whole body
tingling, and her glistening pussy shining up at
Sam's
face.
     Sam tossed the camera onto the floor and
kneeled
between her legs at the end of the bed. He grabbed

Linda's ass with both hands and plunged his tongue
into
her. Linda gasped in surprise. Sam licked all
around,
and when Linda started to moan, he finger-fucked
her
while he sucked on her clit.
     Linda cried out in total joy. Sam had never
seemed
to care about how she felt before, but now he was
doing
this just for her, out of his love for her. "Oh,
Sam .
. . oh" Her fingers buried in his hair. Her feet
resting on his shoulders. While his expert hands
and
tongue worked on her pussy. Then, unexpectedly,
one of
his fingers slipped into her asshole, fucking her
there, too. Her whole body was on fire, tingling,
electric. She was lost, all of her fears washed
away,
and her love growing stronger, stronger, no longer

pining away . . .
     "FUCKING BITCH!" Sam yelled as he struggled
to
break free.
     In the next moment, Linda's whole body came
crashing down from the bed onto the floor. She
didn't
feel any pain. She didn't even notice that she was
off
the bed. She only noticed the anger in Sam's
voice.
     "What's wrong, Sam?" She asked in daze.
     Sam sneered at her. "You bitch! Why the fuck
were
you squeezing my head so hard?"
     Linda shook her head. "Oh, Sam, I didn't mean
to."
     "Come here, cunt. I'll teach you to get rough
with
me!" Sam grabbed Linda's hair and lifted her head
up to
his dick. Linda didn't fight him. She took him
into her
mouth. He twisted her hair in his fingers so it
hurt.
"Have a taste of your own medicine," he said.
     Linda felt torn inside out, first feeling
wonderful, and now feeling terribly guilty and
weak.
Sam had been making love to her, making her feel
like
she was in heaven! And she paid him back by
hurting him
with a sudden burst of strength. All she wanted to
do
now was make up for it. She wanted to make Sam
feel as
good as he had made her feel just a minute ago.
She
wanted to make him forget what she had just done
to
him. She wanted to make this the best blow job
he'd
ever had. She sucked on his dick with care,
licking his
full length, and circling his dick with her
tongue,
caressing him with her mouth.
     But Sam wasn't feeling slow and gentle at the

moment. He grabbed Linda's head firmly and started

pumping hard, further than Linda could handle. He
fucked her mouth violently, slamming into the back
of
her throat. She would certainly have vomited if
she had
any food in her stomach. Finally he came, and when
the
saltiness filled her mouth, Linda just wanted to
spit
it out.
     "No, bitch, suck it all up. Swallow it. Lick
it
clean."
     And Linda did. Somehow.
     Sam let go of her hair, and she fell back
flat on
the floor, and she couldn't help it, she started
crying. How could he treat her like this?
     "Yeah, go ahead, cry. That will teach you to
play
rough with me." Sam said, as he zipped up his
pants.
"And forget about that dinner and dance. I'm not
in the
mood anymore."
     Sam disappeared out of the house.

                         * * *

     "What is this, Grand Center Station?"
     "Central," Clark said as he walked into Sam's

apartment. "Grand Central Station."
     "Give me a break," Linda said bitterly as she
led
Clark into the living room area. "I've only been
on
this world for a year. Have a seat."
     Clark eyed Linda carefully. "I would ask you
how
you're doing, but it's quite obvious."
     Linda looked away, ashamed to meet his gaze.
"Hey,
I asked you to give me a break . . ."
     Clark shook his head. "Not a chance. You've
got to
give yourself a break. Dump this guy."
     "How did you know about Sam?"
     "Mary called me at the Planet," Clark said
solemnly, taking hold of Linda's hand. "She's very

concerned. At first I wasn't too worried. I mean,
what
kind of serious trouble could a super-girl get
into?
But then she told me that someone cut you . . . so
I
came down here right away. Is it true? Have you
lost
your powers?"
     Linda nodded. "Sometimes I feel a quick burst
of
strength. Sometimes I can see through paper and
clothes."
     "Wow!" Clark was amazed.
     "But I'm afraid I've lost them forever,"
Linda
said, sounding sadder than she realized.
     "Oh, no, no, you'll get them back," Clark
said
without hesitation. "I've gone though similar
spells
myself, but I've never lost my powers completely
or for
more than a minute or two."
     "You've never told me that!" Linda said with
a
sudden touch of anger in her voice. "I could have
used
some warning. I almost got killed because I didn't
know
about it."
     Clark looked a little embarrassed. "I'm
sorry,
Kara, but it's . . . it's just not the kind of
thing I
like to talk about. Besides, I didn't think it
would
affect you."
     Linda eyed him curiously. "Because?"
     "Because, well, you're a girl. A woman. I
thought
it was something that affected only us superguys.
Besides, I didn't think the reaction could be so
extreme."
     "So . . . it's a sexual reaction?" Linda
pushed.
     Clark nodded. "Partly, though it not
predictable.
Sometimes sex can even make me feel stronger -- as
if I
really needed any more sexual energy in bed!"
     Linda smiled at this.
     "But sometimes . . . an attractive woman can
send
me into a daze. I remember this one time when I
was
doing some charity work. I was carrying people
around
Metropolis, $200 per trip, and all the money went
towards some charity or other. Many of the people
were
women. Many were attractive. Some even seemed
infatuated with me. But one woman was different.
     "She was dressed all up in country garb, like
the
women in Smallville. But she looked really good in
it.
I mean she looked hot, even in plain clothes.
     "About halfway through the trip she started
to
move around in my arms. You know how I hold people
when
I carry them in my arms, right? Well, she tried to
make
the most of it by rubbing her ass against my
shorts.
Then her shirt came completely open. She made it
look
like an accident, as though a button snapped, but
it
was no accident. When I pretended not to notice,
she
grabbed my head and gave me one hell of a nice
kiss.
She even reached down with her hand to feel if I
had a
hard-on."
     "Well," Linda said naughtily. "Did you?"
     "Nope. That's the funny thing about it. I
thought
I'd be as hard as a rock. Harder, even,
considering how
she turned me on. But nothing. And she was pretty
disappointed, too, no doubt thinking that I was
unfazed. Little did she know how close she came to

killing herself. Maybe me, too. I was so stunned
by . .
. her, that I had lost control and we were
plummeting
towards the earth. I don't think she knew what was

happening. She probably just thought the ride was
over
and I was coming in for an exciting landing. But
somehow I composed myself in time.
     "I called the rest of the charity event off,
under
the pretense that some emergency was taking place,
and
I had to be there, but really I was just shaken up
by
what happened - - by what almost happened."
     Linda nodded. "That must have been pretty
scary,
having you power's stripped away like that."
     Clark put one arm around Linda's shoulders.
"You
should know. It was pretty scary, but not as scary
as
what you're going through. You have to leave him."

     Linda squirmed in his half embrace. "It's not
that
easy," she said evasively. She didn't want to talk

about it. "I mean, what's so bad about being a
normal
girl? What's so bad about being like everyone
else."
     Clark nodded. "True, I've had the same
fantasy.
Not having to worry about saving the world, not
hearing
people's cries for help when I'm home reading a
book,
and not having to lie all the time about my
powers. But
there are good things about having powers, too.
Sometimes it feels wonderful."
     "I've never thought so," Linda said, looking
sad,
like a little girl who didn't fit in at school.
     Clark smiled. "Never? Sometimes I think the
only
times I've seen you truly happy was when you were
flying around, saving people, showing off."
     "I never showed off," Linda smiled shyly,
wondering if Clark really knew what he was talking

about.
     "Bullshit. I've seen the way you've teased
some of
the attractive men you've saved, even though it
really
wasn't an appropriate time to do it."
     "Oh, you liar! I never do that!" Linda looked

genuinely stunned.
     "Bullshit again. You even flirted with that
reporter from channel five, who just wanted to
interview you."
     "That's just your opinion. You just think
whenever
a girl is being friendly she's flirting."
     "No, I don't. Friendly is friendly. I just
get
suspicious when a girl wears skin tight costumes
that
show her nipples clearly through the fabric."
     Linda shrugged. "You can only see the nipples
when
. . . they are hard."
     "Which is most of the time," Clark finished,
"probably because you get so excited by teasing
all the
boys who just stand around, mouth agape, looking
at you
like you were a goddess, when you swoop down and
stop a
crime."
     "Oh, stop it!"
     "But don't worry, I'm sure their dicks are as
hard
as your nipples. They can't help it, because they
are
wondering if you are wearing anything under that
extremely small miniskirt you wear -- because they

never seem to see any white."
     Now Linda looked really embarrassed. "You
know?"
     "Oh, you do a great job of hiding it, by
crossing
your legs slightly when you fly, and being careful

whenever the wind blows. Every once in a while you
let
people have a glimpse, but never long enough for
people
to be sure what they saw. Maybe you don't even
know,
but guys are always talking about it, speculating.
They
even have a news group on the internet called
alt.sex.supergirl.skirtflirt, which is dedicated
to
revealing the truth, preferably with a photo as
proof."
     Linda's face was completely crimson. She was
caught. "I'm . . . I'm sorry."
     Clark shrugged. "Oh, don't be sorry. It's not
like
you are running around naked or anything like
that, and
seem to get a real kick out of making people
guess. But
what I don't understand is: why did you think you
could
fool me?"
     Linda teased him right back, "Maybe I just
thought
you'd never look."
     Clark straightened his collar. "Why wouldn't
I
look? Sometimes it's hard not to notice things
when
you've got x- ray vision."
     "It's hard, all right," Linda said with
admiration
as she looked at Clark's lap.
     Clark sat up straight. "Hey, I thought you
lost
your powers."
     Linda nodded. "I told you my vision comes and

goes, depending how I feel."
     "So how do you feel?"
     Linda sighed and thought about it. "I feel OK

right now. You've really cheered me up. Thanks."
     "You're welcome. But you know what will
really
cheer you up, don't you? Dump this asshole, you'll
feel
much happier, and your powers will come back."
     Linda shook her head, and all the cheer left
her
eyes.
     "Why not?" Clark said quietly.
     She shrugged. "I think I love him."
     "I don't think it's love," Clark said,
uncomfortable. He didn't like that she used the
L-word.
     Outside, someone was unlocking the
apartment's
door.
     "And if it is love, it's a love you can do
without."

                         * * *

     "Hello, Sam," Clark said politely.
     "Who the fuck are you?" Sam replied, knowing
instantly that Clark was an enemy. He had a six
sixth
sense about enemies, like animals can sense
natural
disasters, and like dogs can sense fear. Maybe
that
sixth sense even told him that he'd better not
mess
with Clark, because Sam kept a safe distance.
     Clark glared at him. He had been willing to
be
give Sam the benefit of the doubt, a chance to
prove
himself, but that chance was already gone, and Sam

failed miserably. Clark stood up, and Linda
thought
Clark had already lost it. He was gonna punch
Sam's
face right through the wall.
     But Linda quickly stood between them. She
gently
held Clark back with a hand to his chest, and said
to
Sam, "This is Clark, a friend of mine."
     "Yeah," Sam said to Clark, cautiously angry,
"well, Linda's my friend now, so go find another
friend."
     Clark couldn't believe what a prick this guy
was.
What the hell did Linda see in him? Clark wanted
to
teach him a lesson. He also wanted to kill him.
The
only problem was that he couldn't do both at the
same
time.
     Before he could act, Linda urged him aside,
into
the kitchen. She kept a hand on his chest all the
while, as if to restrain him. She felt his muscles

twitching under the shirt. She was amazed that she

could hold back the power of a hurricane with such
a
gentle touch.
     "Please, Clark," She whispered. "Don't hurt
him."
     Clark shook his head. "I can't just stand
here and
watch him keep on hurting you."
     Linda nodded. "I know, I'm sorry . . . I'll
leave
him"
     Clark relaxed slightly, but he was still
skeptical. "When?"
     "Soon," Linda replied.
     "Not good enough. You told Mary you'd leave
him,
too, but you didn't."
     "It's not easy, Clark. Maybe I think I can
change
him. Maybe I can teach him how to love."
     "Maybe you don't want him to change, Linda,"
Clark
replied. "Maybe you like the way he loves."
     Linda shook her head, partly to deny Clark's
charges, mostly to shake the thought right out of
her
head, in case it was true. "No, I don't like it,
Clark!
But I can't just leave him. I can't hurt him that
way.
I have to feel right about this."
     "Ok, Linda. I'm sorry. It's just that it
hurts me
to see you being hurt, and I keep thinking how
easily
you could stop the pain." Clark paused, feeling
helpless and frustrated. He seemed about to say
something else, but he didn't.
     Instead, he hugged her, hoping his embrace
would
give her back a little of the strength she had
lost.
     After saying goodbye, Linda led Clark to the
door.
     Clark hoped that Sam would be just outside
the
kitchen, so Clark could worry him before he left
with a
subtle threat, but Sam had retired to the living
area
and was watching the TV, so Clark left without a
word.
     Sam was not really interested in the TV show
he
was watching, even though it was sweeps time, and
the
episode was advertised as "the TV event of the
year!"
No, Sam was just waiting for Clark to leave.
     Was he afraid of confrontation? Linda
wondered.
Nah, he was just being practical. Whether Sam won
or
lost a fight with Clark, he might end up in jail.
     So he picked a fight with Linda, instead.
     "Who the fuck is `Clark'?" Sam yelled,
suddenly
only inches from Linda's face.
     Linda realized that Clark might have heard
the
outburst even without his super hearing. But he
didn't
come running back. Linda had to fight her own
fight,
now.
     "He's . . . a friend. He helped me get
settled
when I first came to America." Linda replied,
struggling with the lie that was her secret
identity.
     Sam didn't like the sound of that at all.
Clark
was more than just a friend. And Sam knew there
was a
secret. He could sense it just in the way Linda
averted
her eyes and struggled with her story. Maybe they
were
even former lovers, he thought. He got that
feeling
from the way they looked at each other.
     Sam had heard part of their conversation in
the
kitchen, and he knew that Clark was getting to
her.
"Don't ever let him in here again."
     Linda was suddenly upset, and she demanded
with
eyes wide open. "Why not? He's the best friend I
ever
had!"
     Sam hated that look of defiance in Linda's
eyes.
It shot through him like electricity, making his
hair
stand on end and his muscles quicken. The smartest

thing to do right now is to play it cool, a voice
told
him. Calculate. Tell her that you just can't stand
the
thought of her with another man. Give her
something to
cling to.
     Perhaps if he had more time to collect
himself...
     He had had time to control his temper after
he
found out about Mary's visit several days ago, so
he
came home bearing gifts, winning Linda back. He
knew
how to be kind, when he needed to be.
     But he didn't know how to tolerate that spark
of
defiance in her eyes. So he hit her. With a closed

fist. Hard in the face.
     Linda fell down, landing flat on her ass. Her
eyes
were glazed over, and she covered her hurting
cheek
with one hand. She wasn't crying, and she wasn't
afraid. She was in shock.
     Sam knew immediately that he had gone too
far. He
had hurt her before, but not like this. He had
made her
feel undesirable, and he had made her feel like
she
deserved whatever she got. But this time, he had
made
her feel abused.
     "Oh, damn, Linda, I'm sorry," Sam said,
looking
like he was telling the truth. He tried to help
her up.
"I don't know what came over me. I just couldn't
stand
the thought of losing you."
     Linda accepted his help off the floor, but
she
shook her head at his apology. "You hit me," she
said,
gazing at the ground.
     "Yeah, but you forced me into it." Sam
replied,
instantly looking for a way to turn this around,
somehow -- trying to make her feel that she
deserved to
be hit.
     Linda finally met his eyes. "I forced you to
hit
me? How did I do that?"
     Sam felt helpless, like a cornered animal, so
he
lashed out, "You're always plotting behind my
back.
First that shit with that black bitch from school
and
then with this `friend' Clark, who you've probably
been
fucking in the afternoon when I'm off at work.
You're
so busy fucking that the apartment's filthy as
shit,
and dinner . . . dinner always tastes worse than
shit."
     Linda took a step back, reeling from the
venom in
his words, but the venom only stung -- it didn't
weaken
her. If anything, it made her a little angry.
"Don't
say things like that about Mary, and Clark is a
better
man than you'll ever be."
     Sam grabbed Linda by the throat and pressed
her
against the wall. He wasn't sure what he intended
to
do, but he was angry enough to do just about
anything.
     For a moment, Linda thought Sam was gonna
choke
her to death, as his thumbs pressed in hard, and
she
could barely breath. She tried to push him away,
but he
was too strong. She felt her face start to tingle,
her
vision fade, and her legs failing beneath her. Her
eyes
glowed with the horror of knowing what was about
to
happen.
     But it didn't happen. Something was taking
her
over, taking control, weakening the pain,
strengthening
her muscles, deadening the immense sadness and
fear in
her heart. Maybe it was her survival instinct
     For a moment, it was just barely enough to
keep
her alive. Her throat muscles were like steel
cords in
Sam's hands, keeping her wind pipe open, but still
she
was only barely conscious.
     Until her lungs filled with fresh oxygen, and
her
mind started thinking clearly again. It had been a
long
time . . .
     Sam was amazed by the transformation. Her
eyes
changed from terror to serene judgment. He
squeezed
harder, trying to regain control, but he had lost
it.
Amazement turned to shock, when Linda grabbed his
hands
in hers, like two vice- grips, and pushed him
away.
     Then they just stood there, three feet apart,

staring at each other, trying to understand what
had
just happened and what it all meant.
     Linda walked away, into the bathroom and
locked
the door. She wanted to ponder over things, make
sense
of it all.
     She looked in the mirror.
     She had a nasty bruise on her cheek, and her
neck
showed two blue spots. She looked like a stranger.

     This is what love has done to me, she
thought.
     And that made her so angry, she punched the
mirror, sending glass shards throughout the
bathroom
and the kitchen, which was on the other side. The
whole
apartment complex shook, and several car alarms
outside
were set off.
     She burst out of the bathroom, not bothering
to
even open the door.
     Sam, who was trying to unlock the bathroom
door,
was thrown to the floor from the concussion. He
looked
up at her like a frightened cat, wondering what
she was
gonna do.
     Frightened cat, Linda thought, smiling
slightly.
She walked right past Sam, not letting herself see
him,
and she found the cat hiding in his favorite
corner of
the living room.
     "Here, kitty," She whispered. "Here . . .
Calvin,"
she suddenly decided on a name. He deserved a
name.
     When she walked back across the building,
cooing
Calvin. Sam was still laying on the floor, afraid
to
get up. Part of her hated to see him this way:
weak,
powerless, afraid. But a new part of her relished
it.
She stood over him. "I'm taking Calvin with me.
You
don't deserve him."
     "Who?" Sam replied, barely able to even
consider
anything besides his own fate, which seemed
uncertain
at the moment.
     "And don't even think of telling anyone about
me,"
Linda said with a voice far more threatening than
she
was able to summon in her drama class at college.
"Or .
. . or else I can't even describe what will happen
to
you!"
     Then Linda forgot about Sam. She shut his
memory
out of her mind and started walking home.
     Part of her was shaking inside, afraid of the

memories. She was afraid of the future, too,
because
she never really felt comfortable with herself or
with
her life. But there was nothing like a taste of
hell to
put it all in perspective.
     Calvin meowed in sympathy.
       "It's OK, Calvin. Everything's gonna be
okay.
  I'm gonna take you to a new home, where everyone

  will love you," She said, smiling and rubbing
his
  neck. "Everyone except maybe the University
Housing
  Department, but fuck `em."


tooshoes@cris.com






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