"There she is!"
The woman spoke to the man seated at her side, stood up, and started waving. The man also stood up and started waving.
Seeing the two people waving at her, the young woman hitched her carry-on up on her shoulder and walked in their direction.
"Welcome home, darling."
"Sorry we couldn't come to your commencement. I had to work last weekend."
"Father! Mother!" Kathy greeted her parents at the airport as they hugged her. She had just flown home from school. Putting down her carry-on bag, she very carefully hugged first her father and then her mother. It wouldn't do for her to snap her parents' spines.
"So, how's it feel to be a college graduate, at long last?" her father asked.
"That feels great, Father. But not as good as it is to be something else."
"What's that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Her mother's mouth came up to her mouth as it opened wide in surprise. Her eyes dropped to Kathy's stomach. "Kathy, you're not, no, you're not pregnant, are you?" she asked.
"No, mother, not that." She laughed. "Not yet, at least. I have something I want to show you." She held out her left hand, palm down, to show them her ring. Her new ring with the diamond on it.
Her mother's mouth opened wide in surprise again, and then hugged her again. "Oh, I'm so happy for you, Kathy."
"Who is it?" her father asked. "Is it that policeman boyfriend you told us about last summer?"
"He's a police detective, Father. And he's a very special man." Though she hadn't told them how special. She still hadn't told them about her own changes after the fire. She'd been able to explain the changes in her appearance, and her old clothes no longer fitting her, as being due a late growth spurt.
When her father insisted, she let him carry her big suitcase. She hadn't brought too much stuff with her. Most of her things were packed away in Randall's apartment. Even though they had decided not to get married immediately, she would be moving in with him when she returned to the city in the fall. His apartment wasn't exactly spacious, but it would do while they hunted for a house. As far as they were concerned, it already had the most important piece of furniture. Yes, the bed certainly was adequate.
She hadn't told them yet that she was moving in with Randall --- she didn't think that they'd approve of her moving in with a man. She had just told them that she had moved her stuff into storage for the summer. She had figured on telling them after she told them of her engagement.
But she didn't get the chance. All the way home, her mother talked. She was already talking about the wedding invitation list and the reception and stuff like that.
"You haven't even met Randall yet, Mother."
"You want to marry him, that's all I need to know, darling."
"Then can I invite him here to spend a couple of weeks with us this summer?"
"Of course, darling."
As Randall emerged from the jetway at the unfamiliar airport, he saw the face that he had hoped to see, above a plain white blouse and a pair of blue jeans. Even when she wasn't dressing to be sexy, she was the sexiest person whom he had ever seen. But then, I'm a little biased, he thought to himself.
"Sorry, I'm all of the welcoming party you're getting," Kathy told him. "My parents had to go out of town this weekend."
"You're all I ever need to make me feel welcome, Kathy."
She answered that by coming into his arms and kissing him.
Knowing that he didn't have to be the perfect gentleman, he let her carry the heaviest suitcase, even though it wasn't all that heavy to him.
Once they arrived at her parents' house, she took him into her arms. "With my parents gone for the weekend, I've got the whole house to myself. And I've got you to myself, too."
He groaned theatrically. "Oh, no. A whole weekend with you, without a chaperone."
"That's right. No chaperone anywhere in sight. I've got you all to myself for the weekend. Or maybe you'd prefer to stay in a hotel?"
"No, no. This is fine."
"It better be." With that, she put an arm around his waist and tossed him over her shoulder. As he hung upside down behind her, he reached up and squeezed her buns through her jeans. Even using all of his superhuman strength, he knew that he couldn't hurt those Buns of Steel.
As Kathy slung Randall over her shoulder and carried him up the stairs to her bedroom, she felt him holding and squeezing her butt. He always did that whenever she carried him like this, and she always enjoyed it, but something felt different this time.
Reaching the bedroom, she laid him down upon it. "Randall, when you were squeezing my butt just now, were you doing something different? It felt as if you were squeezing me harder than you ever have before."
"You noticed? Somehow over the summer, I got even stronger. About double what I used to be before. I'm now eight or ten times stronger than an ordinary man?"
"But how? You weren't caught in a fire or anything like that, were you?"
"No, no. The only thing I can think of is that somehow some of your super-strength must have rubbed off on me."
"Well, in that case, let's see if some more of it rubs off on you." She quickly took off his shirt, and then took off her blouse. Sliding an arm under his shoulders, she lifted his body up to hers, rubbing his broad muscular chest across her breasts.
She rubbed herself harder. She knew that any ordinary man would be crying out in pain from the pressure exerted by her soft breasts, but he simply wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tightly as he could.
Stopping her rubbing, she held him closer, still with just one arm around him. She slowly started increasing the pressure. She enjoyed teasing him this way, not letting him forget that even her softest flesh was more than a match for his hard muscular chest.
She felt her breasts flatten against his chest. She went right up to the point where it would start being painful for him. But this time, when she looked at his face, he was still smiling. She gradually increased the pressure, until she was holding him tighter than she ever had before. His face finally started showing some discomfort when she estimated that she was applying about twice the usual pressure.
She immediately released him and let him drop to the bed. "That was about twice as hard as usual," she told him.
"I guess that about matches my strength increase, then."
She immediately started unbuckling his belt. "I wanna see if something else is twice as hard." He made a show of resisting her, but even with his increased strength, he still was no match for her. In no time at all, he was completely naked. It didn't take her long to match his condition.
She thought that it was quite a bit more than twice as hard as before. It was certainly more enjoyable.
Coming out of the ranch house, Randall walked towards corral behind the barn, looking down to be careful what he stepped in. Or rather, to make sure that he didn't step in any of it. Why did I let myself be talked into this? he asked himself again.
Again, the same answer came back. Because I love her. I'd do anything for her.
Including breaking your neck?
Including that.
The stay at her uncle's ranch was one thing. Having grown up in the city, he was fascinated with things out here in the country. And he certainly didn't mind spending time with Kathy. But what she had planned for the two of them today was something else entirely.
He called out, "Kathy! Where are you?"
"I'm over here, Randall."
Randall followed the voice to the barn, and around it. When he came around the side of the barn, he saw Kathy sitting down in the hay. She looked like a true cowgirl. From the neck up, at least. A black cowboy hat was perched atop her golden hair. She was wearing a blue bikini top and a pair of old blue denim cut-offs. She had on a pair of black cowboy boots. And nothing else.
"You're going to ride like that?" he asked, incredulous.
"Sure." She grinned up at him. "You know I like the feel of something big and alive between my legs. And it's a warm enough of a day."
He grinned back. "It could be snowing, and it would be warm enough for you." He looked down at his tee shirt and jeans. "I feel completely overdressed for the occasion."
As she stood up, he saw that she had something in her hand. Looking closer, he saw that it was a horseshoe. The operative word was 'was'. At least it had been a horseshoe at one time in the past, though he was sure that it would never go on a horse now. He saw that she had been twisting it in her fingers. Even as he watched, she grasped both sides with her hands and pulled, practically pulling it straight before it tore in half with a high-pitched squeal.
"That's not how you put those things on, is it?"
"Of course not." She held up her hand and looked at her thumb. "Do you think I could push in a nail with my thumb?"
"I don't think there's anything you can't do, Mrs. Johnston."
"Hey, I'm not that yet, Mr. Johnston. I can still leave you at the altar, you know."
"Please don't, Kathy."
"Oh, I don't think I will. If you're in any shape to get out of bed that day."
"You're supposed to leave me alone for my bachelor party, you know."
"We'll see about that," she grinned at him again. "But c'mon, for now, we're supposed to go horseback riding, remember?" She took his hand and led him to the corral. Then she put her arm around his waist and lightly jumped over the fence.
He stood next to the large brown animal as she saddled it. She had told him that Daisy was the gentlest horse on the ranch, the one most often used for visiting children. "Um, Kathy, I think I should tell you something. Remember, I said that I hadn't been on a horse in a long time?"
"Yeah. So, just how long has it been? Since before you met me?"
"Um, a lot longer than that. Um, I've never been on a horse in my life."
"What? You're kidding. You've never ridden a horse before?"
"No, never."
"Well, there's nothing to it." She grinned at him again. "It's easier than riding me."
"You're usually riding me, not the other way around."
"Hmm, It's definitely easier than that. Now, c'mon. Up you go." She reached over and picked him up, setting him on the saddle. He clutched the saddle horn as if his life depended on it. "Okay, now put your foot here," she guided his foot into the stirrup. "Same thing on the other side. Now hold, these." She handed him the reins.
She then sprang lightly onto her own black horse, riding it bareback.
He thought he was doing fine, until his horse started to follow Kathy's. It was definitely a different motion than anything he had ever encountered before. Following her instructions, he was able to stay on the horse as they rode out of the corral and out into the field. Then she increased the pace, and his horse obediently followed. He felt himself sliding out of the saddle.
As he fell, he was able to tuck himself into a ball and roll with the impact. He stood up and brushed himself off as she rode back, holding the reins of his horse.
"You have to go with the flow. Don't stiffen up, or she'll throw you every time. Keep your knees relaxed." He'd heard it all before they started the ride, but theory and practice were two totally different things.
"So, what do you think? A little different from the city, huh?"
They had reined up upon arriving at the shore of a lake. Actually, Kathy had reined up, and Randall's horse had stopped when hers did. The natural athlete that he was, he had made it without falling off of his horse again. Though he was a little sore in some places. But then, he was usually a little sore, though in some different places, after spending some time with Kathy.
"It's beautiful. I can see why you like it here so much."
She sprang lightly off of her horse. He wasn't quite as graceful dismounting, though he did manage to make a two-point landing.
She unbridled the two horses, letting them graze. "You wanna go swimming?" She took his hand and started leading him down to the water.
"You go ahead. I think I'll just sit here in the sun. I'm a little sore from the ride."
"A swim's just what you need to work out the kinks. C'mon, let's go swimming." She started pulling his tee shirt up.
"No, Kathy. The only way I'm going swimming is if you throw me in there."
She grinned at him. "Hmm, that's a tempting thought." She put her arms around him, lifted him up off of his feet, and started carrying him down towards the water. "You wanna see how far I can throw you?"
"No, Katherine, don't!" He reached down and grabbed her arms, but as usual, he couldn't break out of her hold.
"Oh, all right." She frowned, but she set him back down on his feet on the sandy shore. "Be lazy. You can just sit here and watch me swim. You don't know what you're missing." With that she peeled off her cut-offs to reveal a matching bikini bottom. A flat dive carried her out more than fifty feet over the water.
He watched her as she swam. She wasn't swimming as fast as she had done when she had caught that speedboat the previous spring, but he knew that an Olympic swimmer wouldn't have been able to come close to keeping up with her.
Nor would an Olympic swimmer have been able to porpoise out of the water as she did. Even a dolphin might have been hard pressed to match some of her leaps out of the water.
He watched her as she came back ashore after about fifteen minutes. She shook off the water and sat down on the sandy beach next to him to let the warm sun dry her off.
God, she's beautiful, he thought to himself for about the millionth time that day, as she arched her back and shook out her long golden hair. He started to reach towards her.
His fingertips had just touched her side when she grasped his wrist and put it back in his lap. "Oh no, you don't, Mr. Too-sore-from-the-ride."
"I'm feeling a lot better now, Kathy. The soreness is just about all gone."
"Then save it for the ride back. I intend to enjoy the sun while I can. Or were you planning on walking back?"
"You wouldn't leave me out here, would you?"
"I'm not going to carry you back, if that's what you mean." She reached in the saddlebag next to her. "And I don't want to carry this back, either." She pulled out the picnic lunch that she had brought along, setting it out on the sand next to them.
It was only then that he realized that he was indeed hungry. For food, that is.
"There, that wasn't too bad, was it?"
They had returned safely to the corral, without him falling off of the horse again, and she had done what needed to be done with the two horses. It wasn't quite as simple as parking a car in the garage and turning off the ignition. But then, she certainly seemed to enjoy it more.
"I don't know. It was kinda scary there for a while." Though not nearly as scary as the night he had proposed to her. And almost as enjoyable. "And you've never thrown me like that. I think it was harder than riding you, or having you ride me," he smiled at her.
She sat down on the hay, leaning back, taking off her hat, and shaking out her hair. She then undid her cut-offs and grinned up at him. "Oh, really? Let's see if you say that after I get through riding you." She reached out and pulled him down beside her. She pinned him down to the ground and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Or are you still too sore from the ride?"
"Kathy, not here!" He put his hand on her arm, but he knew that he couldn't stop her from doing what she wanted to do.
"There's nobody here. They're all out working on the other side of the ranch."
"But not out here in the open!"
"What's the matter? You don't like the way I look in the light? You didn't seem to mind it in the open back at the lake."
"No, it's not that. You know that, Kathy."
"Then what's the matter, Randy?" She grinned at him as she pulled his jeans off.
"Uh, nothing, Kathy."
"Do you want me to throw you, Randy?"
"No, Katherine, please don't."
She threw a leg over him, straddling him, and lowered herself down on him. "I told you that I like to have something big and alive between my legs. And you certainly fit that description." She took his hands and guided them up to her breasts. He didn't need any more prompting, as he held and squeezed her mounds with all of his strength.
It definitely was not the same as riding a horse.
By the time that she was through riding him, he certainly had no complaints about anything. And she did not throw him.
Of course, it was a different story after dinner, when they had returned to their room at the ranch house.
Kathy had been working at the Chronicle for about a month, as a junior reporter. Very junior. About the most exciting story she'd covered thus far had been a charity fundraiser auction, when two women almost got into a fight during the bidding for an evening with the eligible quarterback of the city's professional football team.
Still, it was better than what she had been doing part-time before graduation. She'd split her time between proofreading and research. Reading other people's stories, and digging out yet other people's stories so that yet somebody else could write a new story.
She remembered the hours she had spent in the 'morgue', where all of the old issues of the Chronicle were kept, both paper and microfilm, before things were computerized.
This morning, she thought back to the last time she had been down in the dark, dusty, and musty storeroom. She had wondered what it would be like to be just like Superman in the comics, coming down to the storeroom to change so that he could fly off to fight criminals and to save the world.
But she couldn't do that, obviously. For one thing, she wouldn't be able to fly off. For another, she didn't have a costume of her own.
She had thought about making herself a costume, but what could she make it out of? It would have to stretch to accommodate her muscles, and also be bulletproof, otherwise she might not have a costume by the time the job was done.
"Norris, get over here!" The voice of Edward Browning, the city editor, rang across the offices of the Chronicle, interrupting her reverie. Looking up, she saw that he was standing in the door to his office, looking in her direction.
Kathy quickly grabbed up her notepad and went over to his office. She was convinced that Browning had been there to cover the founding of the city. He was merciless with those who made careless mistakes. Yet he seemed to genuinely care for his people, giving out kudos as appropriate. "Eddie the Editor" some of the older hands called him, though never in his presence.
By the time she crossed the newsroom and got to his office, he was sitting down at his desk. "Yes, Chief? You wanted to see me?"
He glared at her. "Don't call me that, Norris."
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, Mr. Browning."
He looked her over. Not as a man looking at a girl, but as a boss sizing up an underling. "Wilcox called in sick today, so you're drafted. I'd like to send somebody more experienced, but right now, you're the only one who's free." Stewart Wilcox had the desk next to hers. "The Governor is in town today for a fundraising luncheon. He's bringing his son. I want you to talk with the kid, find out what he thinks about the education bill in the legislature. I want the kid's viewpoint, not his father's. You think you can handle that?"
"Yes, Chief. I mean, Mr. Browning." She was too happy to care about the glare he shot her. My first real news assignment, she thought to herself as she left Browning's office, already imagining the byline. Okay, so it's politics, not a murder case or anything that exciting. Still, it's better than covering another charity fashion show.
Returning to her desk, she called up the files on the Governor's son. First name, Stephen. Only child. Fifteen, a high school student. Even though only a sophomore, he was the captain of the debating team. A real chip off of the old block.
Then she reviewed the education bill before the legislature. If she was going to interview someone to get his views on it, even if he was only a teenager, it behooved her to know something about it herself. She then read the editorials to determine the Chronicle's position on the proposed legislation.
Grabbing her things, making sure her hair was done up right, checking three times to make sure that she had her press card, she went downstairs, hailed a cab, and gave the cabby the name of the hotel near the airport where the luncheon would be taking place.
Showing her press card, she was able to get a seat at the same table as Stephen. He seemed to be just as bored with the proceedings as she was. When she suggested that they go outside for a talk, he eagerly snapped up the opportunity. Though whether it was actually to talk with her about the new education bill, or just to be alone with a beautiful blonde, she wasn't sure. She remembered back to her own high school days, when the boys were interested in anything that breathed and had breasts.
Leaving the banquet hall, they wandered down to the hotel coffee shop. By the time they got there, they were on a first name basis. There, over some ice cream sundaes, they held their interview. He was knowledgeable on the subject, and willing to discuss it and the impact it would have on the rest of his education. He was tickled pink to know that someone wanted to interview him, even though he wasn't yet old enough to vote.
He offered to pick up the check for the sundaes. "This isn't a date, Stephen," she smiled at him. He looked a little embarrassed at that. "It's on my expense account." She stuffed the receipt into her purse, standing up to return to the luncheon.
They weren't really watching where they were going as they wandered through the hallways back towards the banquet hall. Suddenly, they were surrounded by four men, one of whom had a gun barrel pressed against her side.
"Don't make a sound," one of the men said, brandishing his own gun.
She knew that she could easily have handled these four men if she had been alone. But she was not alone, one of them had a gun pressed against Stephen's side, and he wasn't bulletproof like she was. At least, she didn't think that he was. And she didn't exactly want to test it, either. Certainly not under these conditions.
The only thing that she could do was to bide her time and wait for an opportunity. Though if the Governor's security people found them and started shooting... No, best not to think about that.
They were hustled down the back stairs and into the back of a waiting delivery van. Apparently the thugs considered Stephen to be a bigger threat than her; two men kept their guns on him while only one covered her. Male chauvinist pigs! she thought to herself. Unfortunately, that was no consolation, unless she could somehow act and prove to them how wrong they were. But she would have to do it without risking Stephen's life.
She was certain that Stephen was the intended target of these kidnappers and that she was just an extra bonus. In the wrong place at the wrong time, again, she thought to herself. Not that she had disliked the end results of the last time she had been in the Physics building.
Without any windows, she couldn't tell where they were being taken. She tried to listen, but all she got was the outside traffic noise, which gradually diminished. So, we're going out of the city. That didn't narrow down the possibilities very much at all.
When they finally stopped, they were herded out of the van. She recognized the place as the old paper mill outside the city. Prodded with the guns, they were forced inside.
There were more people inside, most of them with guns. "I suppose this isn't a surprise birthday party for you," she whispered to Stephen, before one of the men cuffed her cheek with the back of his hand, telling her to keep her trap shut.
Kathy and Stephen were taken into a smaller room and forced down into a pair of chairs. She thought about resisting, but there were too many of them, she couldn't risk Stephen getting shot. They were stripped down to their underwear. Their arms were then forced behind backs and tied with ropes. Additional ropes were tied around their bodies and their legs. They were gagged with strips of cloth.
She tested the ropes. She was confident that she could break out at any time. But the trick was to do it when Stephen was safe. And with those gunmen around, now wasn't it.
Damn, I'm not supposed to be Lois Lane, waiting for Superman to come and rescue me, she thought to herself, remembering her thoughts from earlier that day. I'm the one with the super powers, I should be able to do something.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a woman came into the room. She stood in front of Stephen and took a good look at him. "Yep, he's the one we want." Then she came in front of Kathy. "Who's this bimbo?"
One of the gunmen, who had been going through Kathy's purse, spoke up. "She's a reporter for the Chronicle." He held up her press card. She looked at the card, looked at Kathy, and then turned on her heels and left the room.
About five minutes later, the woman came back into the room. "Time to go back to the house. Bring the boy. That's what we came here for."
"What do we do with the chick?"
"Do whatever you want. She's nothing." Two of the thugs untied Stephen from his chair. They rebound his arms behind his back and dragged him away, the gag still in his mouth. The woman followed them out and closed the door behind her.
The three remaining men quickly exchanged glances. It didn't take much on an imagination on Kathy's part to figure out what they wanted to do with her. The looks on their faces were clear enough, even without the drool.
She was still bound in the chair as they walked towards her. One of them reached out for her and she felt a rough hand stroking her cheek even as his other hand unpinned her hair and let if fall free. She felt another hand grabbing a breast and squeezing it hard enough to make an ordinary woman cry out in pain.
Okay, that's enough! She snapped her arms up. The ropes around her body snapped. The chair splintered as she kicked with her legs, freeing them from the ropes. As she stood up, her hands flashed out and closed around two throats. Two flicks of her wrists, and the two men went flying in opposite directions, hitting the walls.
The third man brought up his gun. Before she could get to him, he got off one shot. The bullet hit her left breast, barely missing her bra. It barely dimpled her soft flesh before ricocheting off to the side. Before he could get off a second shot, she twisted the gun out of his grasp. She gave it a little squeeze, crushing it as the remaining bullets went off in her hand.
As she tossed the remains of the gun away over her shoulder, her other hand struck the man in the head. He hit the wall and crumpled down to the floor in a heap. He didn't move after he hit the floor. Neither did the other two men.
She looked for her clothes, for any clothes, but could find nothing. Nothing but the bra and panties they had left her in. Not even a towel or a blanket to wrap around herself. She briefly thought about taking some clothing from the men, but decided against it. Oh, well, it's no worse than a bikini, she thought to herself. Besides, I've got to worry about Stephen.
Thinking about rescuing Stephen from the kidnappers, she quickly ran outside. As she came out, she caught a glimpse of a red car disappearing behind the trees. She pursued, running out towards the main road.
By the time she got out to the main road, the red car was gone. Looking both ways up and down the road, she couldn't tell which way it had gone.
Then she saw the boy on his bicycle. He was wearing a high school letter jacket. He was stopped, with both feet on the ground. He was also staring at her, his mouth and eyes wide open.
Robby Pierce was on his way home from school. Starting next week, he wouldn't be going home this early. He played guard for his high school basketball team, and practices were starting next week. He had spent the late afternoon and early evening at his girlfriend Marcie's place, before her parents came home.
They had been necking on the living room couch. He had almost gotten her blouse off today. Maybe this weekend he could actually start to work on her bra.
He was taking a shortcut near the old abandoned paper mill. He had just stopped to watch the hot red Firebird TransAm come roaring out of the side road leading to the paper mill to go speeding down the road and around a bend when he heard something else.
Thinking that it might be a mugger, he turned and prepared to pedal off. Then he saw the source of the noise and froze.
That definitely didn't look anything like he expected a mugger to look. A beautiful babe was coming out from the road to the paper mill, her long golden blonde hair partially covering her face. He could easily see that she had quite a nice body, she was only wearing her white lace bra and panties, which did absolutely nothing to conceal her figure.
And what a figure! What a major babe! He felt his breath catch in his throat. Lord, the blonde babe was beautiful! Her breasts were practically overflowing her bra. She had an incredibly narrow waist. Her legs were long and shapely.
Marcie had never dressed, or rather, undressed, like this for him. Not that she could have looked even half this good, no matter what she wore. Or didn't wear, for that matter. And Marcie's stringy honey blonde hair could never match this babe's golden tresses.
Oh, Lord, the blonde babe was beautiful! Like those girls in the magazines that he had stashed under his bed. Only more so. Much more. Lord, she was beautiful!
"Did you just see a red car go by?" she asked.
Never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined a pickup line like that. Not that it exactly sounded like a pickup line. But she was actually speaking to him. "Um, um," was all he could say in return, as he continued to look at the gorgeous body in front of him. He considered himself lucky not to be drooling all over himself.
"Did you see a red car? A red sports car?" she asked again, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. He didn't notice that she had actually picked him completely up off of the ground as she shook him.
Not able to say anything, he simply nodded dumbly.
"Which way?"
He was still unable to speak.
She shook him again. "Which way did it go?"
Still unable to speak, he pointed back the way he had just come from, to the right.
"Thanks." With that, she let him go and turned. She gave him a smile over her shoulder before she started running down the road after the TransAm.
He couldn't believe how fast she was going. Her long legs were no more than blurs as she accelerated. He would have sworn that she was going faster than that TransAm had. By the time that he even thought about pedaling after her, she was gone around the bend in the road.
What a babe! was all he could think to himself. Then, Damn, I wish I had at least asked her for her name and phone number.
Kathy felt fortunate that the people in the red car apparently had chosen to go away from the city. There weren't any crossroads for quite a ways in this direction. If they had gone the other way, there would have been no way to track them.
She estimated that she had run about two miles when she saw the red car ahead of her. As she closed in, it slowed down and then turned off the road onto an unpaved side road. Not wanting to alert them to her presence, she slowed down as she approached the side road.
She jogged down the side road, staying in the shadows as much as possible. Soon, she saw a country estate, surrounded by a vine-covered brick wall. A steel gate closed off the driveway. Through the gate, she could see the red car, along with a couple of others. Looking around, she did not see any people.
Fred Martin thought that it was a total waste of time. Not that it mattered one bit what he thought. He knew that he wasn't paid to think, somebody else was doing that. And that somebody thought that a guard should be posted outside the estate. This wasn't the first time that he'd drawn this duty, and he didn't think that it would be the last. So, he settled down on the grass under the trees and watched the empty dirt road in front of the estate.
He watched the red TransAm leave. About half an hour later, it returned.
He was considering breaking a rule and lighting up a cigarette, when he saw the girl jogging down the road. And what a jog! He didn't think that he could have sprinted that fast. But that wasn't what really caught his eye. Rather, it was what she was wearing. Or not wearing, as the case might be. She was barefooted, and wearing only her white lace bra and a pair of panties.
And she wasn't even breathing hard, though he knew that she had to have jogged several miles just to get here. Unless somebody had just dropped her off, and he didn't think that that was a very likely possibility. Who would have dropped off a girl in just her underwear? He certainly wouldn't have dropped off a girl who looked like that, no matter what she was wearing. Or not wearing.
As he continued to watch her, she stopped in front of the gate. She seemed to be looking for a way in. He started to reach for his walkie-talkie with one hand, while his other hand went to the gun stuck in his waistband.
He knew about the specially reinforced gate and its power lock; he had been here when they installed it. It would practically take a tank to break through it.
Maybe she had been invited here? Maybe somebody had called for a hooker? But a hooker wouldn't jog here, would she? Normally, somebody would go pick up the hookers and drive them in. And hookers didn't dress like that, anyway. At least, not until they started working. And then, of course, they would wear even less.
She stood in front of the gate. As she grasped one of the metal bars of the gate with her right hand, she tossed her head back, making her long blonde hair cascade down her back. Then he saw the metal bar begin to bend as she pulled it back.
He watched in amazement as she pulled on the heavy steel gate with one arm. He saw the bar begin to bend. Suddenly, one of the steel bars snapped off. She tucked it into her left hand as she pulled on another of the bars. It too started bending.
And then, he heard a tortured squeal as the entire gate came loose from its moorings. She then casually threw the mangled piece of metal over her shoulder. He could hear the THUD as it hit the ground, and would have sworn that he had felt it as well.
He remembered the time they installed the gate. It had taken three big men to lift that gate into position. And this gorgeous girl had ripped it out and tossed it away with one hand? What kind of girl was she? He continued to stare after her in amazement as she went inside past the remains of the gate, both his walkie-talkie and his gun forgotten.
Kathy had no trouble getting past the gate. But now that she was inside, what was she to do? One thing that she could not do was to let Stephen get shot.
Approaching the side of the house, she extended her sensitive hearing. She could hear the murmur of voices, but she couldn't hear the woman's voice. Nor could she hear Stephen's voice, not that she expected to, if he was still gagged.
Cautiously, she looked in the window. She didn't see anybody inside. She went to the next room and looked in. Nobody there, either. It was the same thing with the third room. I just might have to go inside and do things the hard way, she thought to herself as she went around the corner to the back of the house.
Looking in the next room, she saw Stephen. He was lying on a bed, gagged and bound. He was still stripped down to his underwear. There was no one else in the room.
Looking around herself to make sure that she was still undetected, she punched the window with her fist. The glass shattered. She quickly leaped through the window, as Stephen turned towards her with a surprised expression on his face.
She quickly went to him. Grasping the rope around his body in her hands, she pulled, snapping it in half. She freed his legs next, then removed his gag.
"Who? Who are you?" he asked.
"Not now. I have to get you out of here."
Just then, the door burst open and two men came in, drawn by the sound of the shattering glass. They already had their guns in their hands, but they stopped in their tracks when they saw the beautiful blonde, scantily clad in just her bra and her panties.
Kathy acted first. With one hand, she picked Stephen up from the bed and dumped him on the floor. With her other hand, she picked up the bed and set it on its side, shielding him from the men and their guns.
And just in time, as bullets began to fly. They flew towards her. And they flew away from her, somewhat flattened, after hitting her smooth tanned skin.
She quickly sprang forward. A fist to the face took care of one man. She grabbed the heads of the other two and brought them together.
"What the hell's going on here?"
Kathy turned towards the door just as the woman started to come in. A light tap on the side of her head made her come in the rest of the way, as she sprawled unconscious on the floor.
Making sure that all four of the kidnappers were out cold, she quickly searched the rest of the house. She found nobody else.
She returned to the bedroom to find Stephen trying to struggle out from under the bed. Walking over to him, she reached down with one hand and lifted the bed off of him. With her other hand, she lifted him up to his feet. "Are you okay?"
He shook his head to clear it. "Yeah, I think so."
"Good. I think somebody better call the police." She turned towards the phone on the nightstand.
"Wait! There was somebody else with me. A reporter."
"Don't worry about her. She's fine." She suppressed the urge to smile. And I should know. I wonder how many times Superman has had to tell people that Clark was fine. She picked up the phone and called the police. She told them about the kidnapping attempt, giving them the address of the estate and told them about the old paper mill.
She put the phone down and turned to Stephen. "The police are on their way. I've gotta go." She turned and jumped out through the window she had originally come in.
"Wait! Who are you?" he called after her.
She kept on running, around the corner of the house and down the driveway. As she passed the red car, she glanced inside. There was her dress, her shoes, and her purse. She grabbed up her things and ran out into the trees.
Once she was out of sight in the shelter of the trees, she stopped. She leaned back against a tree to catch her breath. Not that she was out of breath, by any means, but she just needed time to stop and think.
Okay, first things first, she told herself. Get dressed. She quickly did, after first wiping the lead smudges off of her skin. Now, wait for the cops. She quickly pinned her hair back, the way she had it when Stephen had last seen her, using the spare pins she had in her purse. Maybe I should get myself a pair of glasses, like Clark Kent has. Oh well, I guess I'm gonna have to do without this time. Stephen hadn't been looking at my face, anyway.
She ran back to the house. This time, she went in through the front door. She found Stephen where she had left him. He was making the effort to tie up the four kidnappers. "Stephen! Are you okay? What happened here?"
He turned around, surprised. "Kathy? Is that you? Are you okay?" He seemed to be embarrassed, trying to cover himself with his hands.
They finished tying up the four kidnappers as they reassured each other that each was fine. Then, searching the house, they found his clothes. He seemed a lot more comfortable around Kathy with his clothes on. She found that a little amusing. Guys never seemed to mind seeing girls in as little as possible, but many of them didn't want girls seeing them that way.
She let him tell his story first, about the beautiful blonde in bra and panties. Then she told him that the same girl had rescued her and brought her here. Fortunately, he didn't seem to connect the two blondes together.
It wasn't long before the police showed up, along with some of the security guards from the Governor's entourage. They were very relieved to discover that the Governor's son was all right. They didn't seem to mind that the reporter was fine, either.
Fred was still hidden in the trees when the first of the police cars drove up. He crawled deeper into the trees. Once he was far enough away from the road, he got up and started running.
He didn't stop running for an hour. But then, he wasn't running to any place in particular. He just wanted to get away from the estate. And away from that girl who had ripped the gate out of the wall. Far away from her.
"Norris!" Browning's yell, practically in her ear, made her jump in her chair. She considered herself lucky not to have jumped all the way up to the ceiling. And possibly beyond. "Where the hell were you on this story?" He was holding a bunch of newspapers in his hand. Newspapers other than the Chronicle.
"I... I was following a lead, Chief. I mean, Mr. Browning."
He waved the newspapers in her face. "Well, while you were following your lead, every other paper in the city has a story about some mysterious supergirl in her bra and panties single-handedly rescuing the Governor's son and capturing that gang of kidnappers. Why the hell don't we?"
Not only the other papers, but also the radio and television stations had all covered the story as well. One of the television news anchors had even named her SuperChick. The name had stuck. Kathy didn't like the name, but what was she to do, call the television station, tell them that she was SuperChick, and complain that she didn't like that name?
Besides the interview, her story had concentrated on the bare essentials, that the brave police officers, along with the Governor's security people, had apprehended a dangerous group of kidnappers and rescued the Governor's son.
Unfortunately, at least from the viewpoints of both Kathy and the Chronicle, the Governor and his son had held a press conference when they returned to the state capitol and told the story of how Stephen had been captured by the gang of kidnappers. He had then gone on to tell about the mysterious blonde girl who had appeared, wearing only her bra and panties. She had overwhelmed and captured the gang single-handedly, and then freed him.
The other newspapers had really eaten up the story, playing it on their front pages. The Chronicle had been the only newspaper in the city, practically in the entire state, to not even mention the mysterious supergirl.
Think fast, girl, she told herself, as the editor continued to wave the papers in her face. "I... I'm going for depth, Chief, I mean, Mr. Browning. I know somebody who says he can arrange an exclusive interview for me with that mystery girl, with SuperChick." Yeah, right. If I can't arrange an interview with me, then who can?
"Hah! I'll believe it when I read it, Norris." He took a deep breath. "Okay, you're new and you're still learning the ropes around here. And I really shouldn't have assigned you to this job in the first place. But if you don't have that interview in time for the Sunday feature, you're going to be covering fashion shows and charity fundraisers for the rest of your career."
"Yes, Chief. I mean, Mr. Browning." She looked at the calendar on her desk. She had two days to turn in her copy. No problem. I should be able to interview myself and write it up in two days.
"Hey, Kathy, when you go interview SuperChick, can I come along too?" The loud whisper came from the desk to her right. "Especially if she's going to be wearing just her bra and panties, like before?"
Stewart Wilcox was a couple of years older than Kathy was. He had made his first pass at her about five seconds after she had first sat down at her new desk. He had persisted, even after she had shown him the diamond on her finger. He had finally desisted, mostly, after she had introduced him to her big hunk of a fiancé. She usually ignored him. Usually, if she ignored him long enough, he'd go away and make a pass at somebody else.
This time, he didn't. "Hey, Kathy, are you going to dress the same way as she does for the interview? In just your bra and panties?" The whisper was a little louder this time.
She thought about giving him the finger, but that would only encourage him. "In your dreams, Stewart."
"Well, at least get some pictures for us."
Looking around, she saw that some of their coworkers had heard Stewart, and were openly smiling. Some of them even snickered. "Men!" she exclaimed, before turning back to her computer. As if I'd ever show any of you jerks that much skin!
Monday morning, Kathy was standing by the coffee machine when Stewart Wilcox came into the office. Picking up a copy of the Sunday feature, she walked over to his desk. Plopping the feature down in front of him, she sat down on the corner of his desk. "So, what did you think of that, Stewart?"
"Um, quite nice, Kathy."
She noticed that he wasn't looking at the paper. Rather, he was looking at her legs below her short skirt as she swung them slowly back and forth. "The interview, Stewart. I already know what you think of my legs. You've told me often enough."
He looked up sheepishly at her. "Um, that was quite nice too, Kathy. Except you didn't get us any photos of SuperChick."
"She insisted on no pictures. She doesn't want her face becoming known. But I did ask her if I could have her autograph her bra and panties, just for you."
He looked up, aghast. "No! No, Kathy. You didn't really ask her that, did you?"
Good, let him sweat for a while. She smiled sweetly at him. "I sure did, Stewart. I even told her that it was for the guy with the desk next to mine."
"No, you didn't. Please say you didn't." He buried his face in his hands. "Please."
Payback's a bitch, isn't it? "I sure did." She stood up and walked around to her desk. She sat down and took a sip of her coffee. "She said, and I quote, 'No way!' And then we had a nice long talk about you. She told me that if you ever make another pass at me again, to just let her know and she'd do something about it. And I don't think you'd enjoy that too much."
He slumped forward on his desk, with his face still buried in his hands. "I'm sorry, Kathy. I won't make another pass at you again. I promise."
He kept his word. From that day he was always the perfect gentleman with Kathy. And with the other women in the newsroom.
"Could I see this one, please?" Kathy asked, pointing to the gold necklace in the display case.
She had just gotten the bonus check for the exclusive SuperChick interview. On a whim, she had stopped by a small jewelry store on her way back from lunch. There was only one other customer in the store; she was looking at bracelets as a salesman hovered nearby. The other salesman had offered to help Kathy as she started to look around.
The salesman opened the case, pulled out the necklace, and handed it over to her. "Yes, this will look beautiful on you. It matches your hair so nicely."
She felt a little tingle run through her hand as she took the necklace from him. Gold! As a student, she'd never had enough money to spare on such luxuries.
She looked in the mirror as she put it on. As she closed the clasp behind her neck, she suddenly felt faint. She staggered and lurched. She put out her left hand and caught herself on the display case. Whew, good thing I didn't smash it, she thought to herself. That would have totally blown my bonus check.
The salesman was immediately at her side, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay?"
She took a deep breath. "Yeah, I think so. I felt a little dizzy there for a moment."
The salesman seemed satisfied with that explanation. He was also further distracted when two men entered the store.
She took another deep breath and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Yes, the necklace did look good on her; it matched her golden hair and set off her deep blue eyes. I wonder if Randall would like it? Still, it's gonna take just about that entire bonus. Maybe I shouldn't, just yet. We still have to save money for our house. Besides, it's not like I still have to hook Randall. But it is beautiful.
She was still admiring her reflection in the mirror when she heard the gunshot.
"Freeze! Don't nobody move!"
She froze. In the mirror she saw that the two newcomers both had guns out. One of them had just shot out the surveillance camera. She slowly turned around. One of the men was telling the two salespeople to open the display cases, while the other covered Kathy and the other customer with his gun. "You two! Down on the floor! Now!"
She was about to rush the two gunmen when the other customer's screaming reminded her that there were innocent, non-bulletproof, people around her. She slowly sank down to the floor besides the display case, onto her hands and knees, ready to spring forward at the first opportunity.
"You! Shut up! Down on the floor!" The gunman yelled at the other customer, the one who was still screaming. Amazingly, she shut up and got down on the floor.
Kathy saw her chance when the two gunmen conferred about something. Getting her long legs under her, she leaped up over the display case towards them.
At least, that had been her plan. But things didn't work out that way. Instead of easily clearing the case, she belly-flopped onto it. As she tried to push herself off of the glass surface, one of the gunmen immediately whirled towards her. His first shot hit her in the left breast, spinning her around and knocking her backwards. His second shot hit her in the right cheek, snapping her head back.
The impacts drove her backwards, knocking her into the display case behind her. The case shattered in an explosion of glass shards from the impact of her body as she tumbled over it, striking her head on the floor. She heard a scream as she lost consciousness.