Submissive Subservient Superman
By Elder Barry - Erctwo@aol.com
Introducing Normal Man - Superman retires?


SUBMISSIVE SUBSERVIENT SUPERMAN

(Introducing Normal Man & Amazing Guy & Nice Girl)

Superman was addressing an enthusiastic crowd of more than fifteen thousand
adoring fans from atop a ten-foot stage when suddenly he was no longer there.

When awareness returned to the Man of Steel, he found himself in a large empty
rather sterile looking room cuffed and strapped on top of what appeared to him
to be an operating table. He tested his restrains distressed to learn they
were Superman proof.

A bank of several TV monitors lined the room, each of them in full view of a
now trembling Kal-El from Krypton. A door opened and two overly muscled blonde
demi-goddesses entered the room flanking him and his bed. He'd seen these
Amazonian women before, recognizing them as Hippolyta and Semele, neither was
to be trifled with.

Superman was doing his best to not scream or cry or do both.

He immediately recognized that the girls were serving as members of the
elite-palace guard charged with the responsibilities of caring for and
guarding the Goddesses, not that the Goddesses needed guarding. Each of the
Deities was immortal and invulnerable possessing the combined strength and
power of over a million earthmen.

"Hello Superman." Princes Penthesilea (The Queen of the Amazons) and Athena
(Goddess of Wisdom and War) entered the room together and greeted Superman
warmly. Athena had been the first to speak.

"Nice to see you again." Polly added.

"Oh no ... please ... not again ... please.

Superman's nascent memories were being restored. Tears flowed unabated from
his eyes. He bowed his head as best he could, demonstrating his absolute
reverence for and fear of the two exquisitely beautiful hugely muscled and
powerful Goddesses who reigned over a myriad of dimensions of both time and
space ... including the numerous alternate planet earths.

"Kal-El, surely you wouldn't wish to deny your two biggest fans the pleasure
of watching you squirm and struggle against and cower before superior females.
You know how much we both enjoy seeing and hearing you suffering the
indignities foisted upon you by powerful woman and young girls with their
intimidating muscles

Hearing your pitiful whining and the delicious sounds of your pathetic begging
is such an aphrodisiac for us.

"Look." Penny pointed to one of the monitors, a monitor that was currently
showing Superman being pummeled and humiliated in a boxing ring by an
eight-foot four-inch teenage girl with biceps rivaling the Grand Tetons in
size and grandeur not to mention her rock-hard massive girl-cock.

Superman, you should continue watching monitor number one because in a couple
of minutes that big girl will ass-rape you." Your many fans can read all about
it on the internet in a story entitled ... Superman is Scared and Humiliated.

"Kal-El, I direct your attention to monitor number two on the left." Penny was
flushed with excitement. "There you can watch an actual film of another
Internet short story entitled ... The Mean Teen Ozark Queen where a tiny but
very muscular teenager kicks your miserable ass all over a different boxing
ring, enjoy."

On monitor number three you can watch two films depicting two short stories
each about burgeoning Superwomen entitled The Mighty Quinn and Maria 'Muscles"
Marinara ... you're not in either one but you might enjoy seeing them anyway.

"Superman." Polly chimed in. "I believe you will love that which is now
showing on monitor number four." She smiled knowing full well he wouldn't.
"Prepare yourself for your ultimate humiliation. The story depicted in
Catwoman Gets Frisky is longer than most but sure to entertain everyone,
everyone but you."

Superman, with no memory of his past humiliations or his rendezvous with the
two Goddesses was immediately transported to yet another version of planet
earth not knowing what awaited him there.

Eighteen-year-old Guy Marshall who fancied himself to be a magician, albeit an
amateur one, remained curled up in his bed much longer than he needed to or
should have. He was wistfully going over in his mind the newest Superman comic
book, the one where the Man of Steel's superpowers were inexplicably
transferred into a nerdy teenage scientist. Oh, how he wished he were that
nerdy scientist.

The high school senior didn't want to be late for the first day of the new
schoolyear but he wanted to avoid Betty, his twin sister, at all costs. As
soon as he dragged himself out of his bed, he peered at himself in the mirror
and as always he was less than satisfied with the skinny kid he saw looking
back at him; five-foot-eight, one hundred thirty pounds with pipe stem arms
sans any semblance of a muscle which unto its self was pretty damn pathetic as
well as an ironic cosmic joke of epic proportions

Whenever friends or classmates or acquaintances or even passersby compared his
body to that of his popular excessively muscled twin sister, which of course
people were want to do, they couldn't help but laugh at the disparity, the
dichotomy rife with irony.

Even as a pre-teen Betty Jean delighted in tormenting her weaker brother.
These days she picked on, mistreated, and unmercifully bullied him almost
nonstop. His sister exerted and flaunted her physical superiority every chance
she got making Guy's life a living hell.

No matter how often he exercised, how may miles he jogged, how many weights he
lifted, how many vitamin supplements and protein-shakes he ingested he could
never gain any weight or put on any muscle. His doctor explained to him that
his quasi-anemia was a product of his extremely high metabolic rate.

Guy had always accepted with unquestioned metaphysical certainty that he was
now and always would be physically inferior to his twin sister but that didn't
mean he had to like. In fact, if truth were known, every day Guy would pray,
wish, and beg ... The-Powers-That-Be ... hoping they would transform him into
the bigger, the stronger, and the more dominate twin; then he would show her.

Apparently, that eventuality was never meant happen because once she had
experienced her muscle enhancement episode her cruelty towards him had only
worsened. He couldn't wait for his graduation when he would likely be
accepting a scholarship to an out of state college, a college as far away from
his sister as humanly possible.

Betty possessed unworldly strength and lorded it over him with great delight.
His only respite from the constant physical and mental abuse she heaped upon
him was when he told her a joke she liked or when he was performing his
sleight of hand magic and card tricks.

Amuse me monkey was her credo, so amuse her he did. Then and only then would
Betty Jean reward her pathetic brother by not tormenting him for the rest of
that day.

Years earlier, on her first day of high school, a then diminutive freshman
girl named Betty Jean Marshall announced her arrival. When the unassuming
five-foot-one, 110-pound strawberry blonde overheard a number of football
players critiquing the incoming freshmen girls she tried to ignored them.

However, she took notice when she heard herself being referred to as
'Spaghetti Betty' and 'Ever Ready Betty' and 'Sweaty Betty' and worst of all
... the sexually charged name ... B.J.

Betty Jean sidled up to the biggest and loudest of the group, a 300-pound
All-State offensive tackle, aptly named Blake 'Big Bruiser' Blocker. She
grabbed at and then viciously squeezed his nut-sack dropping the 'Bruiser'
down to his knees.

"Please no!" He screamed in pain. "Stop."

"Sweaty Betty says no to that." She giggled to herself because that was the
first time Betty Jean had referred to herself in the third person. She
squeezed even harder making her point crystal clear to the Bruiser.

Betty then proceeded to beat the living shit out of the biggest, toughest,
meanest dude in the entire school. Using her well-honed fighting skills, her
tiny little fists as well as her lethal feet, her elbows, and her knees she
blackened and closed both of the Bruiser's eyes, broke, fractured, and
shattered the guy's jaw, separated him from a number of his teeth while
delivering several piston-like right crosses and left hooks to his body in the
process breaking at least four ribs while lacerating both of his kidneys.

Solely for her own amusement and to add to the big boy's misery a totally out
of control Betty Jean Marshall broke 'the bruiser's' right arm at the elbow.
The now former football player spent the next several weeks eating all off his
meals through a straw. He pissed blood for nearly a month crying every time.

She justified her alleged 'assault' to the school dean, claiming the boy had
sexually harassed and abused her stating she was only protecting herself. The
football player's sketchy reputation and previous indiscretions had weighed
heavily against him and in her favor. Consequently, little Betty received only
a slap on the wrist for her actions.

When the 110-pound then fourteen-year-old Betty Jean Marshall tracked down the
now grossly out of shape 350-pound former football player. She 'apologized'
for the beating she had inflicted upon him. Even though he was literally three
times her size he quivered in her presence and physically wretched the moment
she left.

Sweaty Betty, had not so subtly suggested to Blake 'the bruised' Blocker that
he should consider transferring to another school because, as she put it, 'the
mere sight of you sickens me and could set me off again.'

Needless to say, no one ever referred to her as Sweaty Betty again.

The preceding four years had passed quickly and her reputation as someone not
to be fucked with only grew. Betty Jean had arduously continued with her
rigorous weight training regimens and her grappling and striking disciplines;
mixed martial arts including both traditional and kick boxing, Jujutsu, Krav
Maga, etc.

Even though she had packed on a number of impressively huge muscles she
remained short in stature. Consequently, Betty was still dreaming of the day
she would finally achieve her hoped for second growth spurt.

She was grateful for the first enhancement but in her mind a second spurt was
long overdue. She worked out 24/7 and now for her own gratification she was
admiring the fruits of her labors, preening in front of the bathroom mirror;
flexing and admiring her massive 14" biceps, her generous 36" C-cup boobs, and
her hour glass figure.

Her life would have been near perfect if were not for the existence of her
nerdy good for nothing pain in the ass twin brother.

Nature was not only calling out to that pain in the ass bother the bitch was
yelling at him. Requiring immediate relief, the boy hurried to the bathroom
hoping for privacy when he ran smack dab into his imposing five-foot-four-inch
125-pound bicep-blessed sister. He bounced off of her as if he had crashed
into an impenetrable brick wall, which in a way he had.

Betty Jean was more than just a little annoyed by her brother's interruption
but at the same time she was grateful for the opportunity and the excuse to
teach him yet another lesson. Using her lightning-fast reflexes, Betty
wordlessly applied an approximation of the Vulcan Death Grip. She took hold of
his face and the top of his head with her powerful hands and began to squeeze
until her brother dropped down to his knees crying out in pain.

"Ow, stop. Please. You're hurting me." He impotently attempted to pry her
strong fingers away from his face. "What are you doing?"

"Relax." She released her hold and flexed her numb fingers. "I just wanted to
see if I could make your brains seep out of your earholes."

She laughed indicating she was only kidding. However, this was more than just
a run-of-the-mill normal brother/sister scuffling and bantering. This was the
outrageously bicep-blessed Betty Jean Marshall once again demonstrating her
clear and overwhelming superiority over her taller but much weaker brother.
Her physical acts of unquestioned dominance never ceased to bring the
18-year-old vixen to orgasmic bliss.

"Damn it, sis." He wiped tears from his eyes. "Why can't you be a nice girl?"

"Yeah ... Okay ... Maybe I'll give that a try but first tell me a joke." She
demanded.

"Sure." He thought for a second knowing he had better make it a good one. "I
think you will like this one." He prayed she would.

"A lawyer returns Mickey Mouse's phone message ... Mickey he says ... you
can't divorce Minnie because you say she's crazy ... Mickey replies ... I
didn't say she was crazy ... I said the bitch was fucking Goofy."

Guy was both pleased and relieved when his sister laughed out loud.

"Morning wood?" She giggled as she pointed at the bulge in her brother's
underpants. "Is it my big girlie muscles or my wonderful breasts that turn you
on bro?"

"Don't flatter yourself sis." He adjusted his more than adequate package loath
to admit to her that it was both; her breasts and her muscles never failed to
excite him.

"I'm eighteen-years-old." Shamed by the truth he shot back. "I don't need you
to get me hard. The mere thought of a topless manikin can do that."

Why he had chosen that day to verbally spar with his muscle-bound sister he
would never fully understand but he knew he was about to pay a price.

"Sorry, sis." He knew he should retreat to his room but he desperately needed
to pee. "Just give me a quick minute alone, please." He was shuffling his
weight from one leg to the other. "I really really need to piss."

"Go ahead piss or are you too embarrassed or ashamed to show me your peepee?"
She flexed her impressively peaked biceps and laughed at her blushing brother.
"I'm not ashamed to show you these."

She puffed out her chest removed her clinging nightshirt displaying her
gorgeous teen breasts squeezing them together displaying their massiveness.
She pressed her overwhelming well-tanned naked self against her brother's
spindly colorless milky-white body effortlessly pinning him to the bathroom
wall.

She had always been much stronger than he. Ever before her first muscle growth
surge but since then she had more than tripled her own strength, increased her
sexual appetite, while escalating her unrelenting teasing.

Enjoying her brother's feeble attempts to escape from her overwhelming
superiority was surprisingly arousing for her. Betty Jean had always loved
tormenting her wimpy brother but today it was sexually stimulating her big
time. She could already feel an orgasm building within her.

Betty Jean pressed herself even harder against her brother grinding her
chiseled body and her lady parts all over his malleable body. Guy was helpless
against his twin's powerful muscles. He was trapped in the vortex of his
eighteen-year-old sister's muscular embrace.

Finally, he felt her entire body begin to quiver, shake, shudder, and spasm.
He feared she might be experiencing her second muscle enhancement. Her knees
seemed to be buckling beneath her. Nonetheless, Betty Jean continued grinding
herself against him even harder laughing as she did so.

She pressed even harder some more taking his breath away. Her eyes were
squeezed shut and the look on her face transformed from intense to serene to
bliss. However, her enhancement would have to wait because at the moment her
orgasm was an all-consuming, euphoric delicious feeling of utter bliss.

"Thanks! I really needed that."

Her legs were a bit wobbly as she slowly sashayed her naked self down the hall
towards her bedroom contemptuously looking back at her brother. She cupped her
right breast in one hand and with the other tweaked an erect nipple before
finally issuing him a stern warning.

"Stop looking at my ass, you perv."

Guy slammed the bathroom door shut and relieved himself, twice. First, he
urinated a river in spite of his steel-like erection that insisted on pointing
up at the ceiling. Then he jerked off because of his steel-like erection. The
image of her lovely breasts and her impressive muscles unwillingly dominated
his mind. He jerked his large penis so furiously he splattered the mirror with
copious amounts of his cum but rather than attaining a feeling of bliss he
felt nothing but shame.

He knew he should clean up the mess but he was so late. Mom would understand
she would do it without complaint before leaving for her visit to grandma's
house ... back home again in Indiana.

Today was a very big day for the students of Jefferson High School. Superman
was scheduled to speak to the student body about the ever-changing roles of
males and females and the growing number of enhanced women in today's society.

It hadn't happened overnight it only seemed that way to the male population.
Seemingly without so much as a 'how-do-you-do' most earthly females were
experiencing unprecedented unexplained subtle but noticeable strength and body
enhancements while a select few experienced extreme growth spurts, while one
in a million was suddenly endowed with male genitalia.

Within the span of a single generation most females had grown stronger, most
only marginally. However, nearly five percent of the women on planet earth, an
even higher percentage in America, had developed and were still developing
unexplained significant physical superiority over most males; Superman not
with-standing of course.

Some females, usually teenagers, even approached heights of seven-feet or more
while many developed intimidating stupefying muscularity while a select few
were inexplicably endowed with a male penis; most were of normal size but some
girls sprouted appendages equal to or exceeding that of most horses.

Medical researchers from all over the world who were studying the phenomena
discovered a heretofore unknown self-replicating gene unique to females which,
until now, had lain dormant likely for eons. When triggered, usually at the
onset of puberty, the gene facilitated the conversion of estrogen into
super-charged testosterone promoting unnatural muscle growth in females.

To date, the researchers have been unable to find anything that may have
spurred the gene to life nor any process that could retard the growth spurts.

Doctor Geoffrey 'Bobo' Bezos, working with an elite team of geneticists was
the preeminent cytogeneticist credited with discovering and identifying the
novel gene found only in women, a gene that was immediately medically
catalogued as 'AMD1' ... More commonly known to the public as the Amazon
Effect.

Most females gladly accepted their unexplained physical gifts and went on with
their lives; a little happier, a little more sexually aggressive, and
considerably more confident. However, a small number of 'AMD1' ladies abused
and capitalized on their physical superiority; some becoming professional
athletes. Some used their overwhelming strength to accost and rob weaker males
for both fun and profit.

Guy arrived for his first class of the day just as the bell rang. He dropped
his sorry ass in his assigned seat and surveyed the room. Although he dreaded
what he knew he was about to see while at the same time he couldn't wait to
see that which he dreaded seeing; girls with big boobs were always a welcome
sight and Guy assumed he was about to get an eyeful.

His twenty-eight classmates were split nearly evenly; 15 girls and 13 boys.
Several of the female students, kind-of-sort-of-dwarfed their male classmates.
Naturally they were all busty, they all knew it, and they loved flaunting
their biceps as well as their boobies. The girls were clearly more muscular
than their male counterparts, a perfect microcosm of the world in which they
all lived.

It was clear to Guy Marshall that only one of the girls had achieved her
growth spurt over the summer. Eighteen-year-old Cindy Ryan stood an astounding
seven-feet-two inches tall with muscles on top of more muscles, the epitome of
female preeminence. For no reason at all, other than to show off, Cindy stood
up in front of the class and flexed her massive 26" biceps which if one were
to believe the ubiquitous comic books, measured at least two full inches
larger than Superman.

Ms. Mildred Minnie Madison, their twenty-seven-year-old homeroom teacher was
nearly as big as Cindy her first and only enhancement having occurred two
years earlier. Her large breasts strained against her clinging purple and
green stiped blouse her large biceps evident beneath her long sleeves. She was
unconsciously trying to upstage Cincy with her large pendulous breasts.
Mildred admonished her student telling her in no uncertain terms to sit her
ass down.

"Cindy, sit your ass down." She demanded.

Guy Marshall averted his eyes from the busty bickering females just in time to
see the girl sitting next to him, Jenny Jean Jones, experience a spontaneous
female growth spurt of her own. At first, the eighteen-year-old senior seemed
to be in some pain then in real pain until her face took on a beatific
blissful smile of satisfaction. Jenny pumped up her biceps watching them grow
and grow.

An extremely tired sleep deprived Guy Marshall inexplicably allowed his eyes
to close as he slipped into the inviting arms of Morpheus, the God of Dreams
or he may have simply feinted. Either way he was experiencing an erotic dream,
a fanciful delusion featuring an amatory tableau revealing his most bizarre of
fetishes.

The now seven-foot-three-inch soon to be completely naked girl's crotch was
only a foot away from his face when it happened. Guy estimated the girl's
biceps to be at least 22" but that wasn't the half of it. Oh no ... There was
more, much more.

A titanic bulge was straining against her quickly disintegrating her designer
jeans as an imposing girl-cock burst forward scaring the living shit out of a
startled and intimidated Guy Marshall. Once the damn thing fully unfurled it
sprang forth with such force it actually struck his forehead much like a steel
rod.

To Marshall it looked like a third leg; long and thick and veiny. Jenny Jean
took her 14" long monster into her hand, pushed it aside allowing herself to
inspect her seemingly intact lad parts. She was now one of the less than one
percent of the enhanced girls to sprout a penis. She proudly waved her big
dick at her classmates.

Everyone was filming the event with their cell phones. The girls were all
standing offering envious appreciative applause while the angst-ridden boys
were more restrained, many thinking to themselves ... 'Jesus Christ, if they
all grow cocks there will be no need for us whatsoever.'

The seven-foot-two-inch Cindy Ryan casually moved closer to her new
muscle-mate and planted an open-mouthed wet kiss on her lips. She grabbed her
classmate's girl-cock with both of her large hands and masturbated the mammoth
appendage until it had gushed massive amounts of her viscous 'she-men'
everywhere ... half of the class applauded while the rest unabashedly fondled
their own genitalia.

Guy awoke with a start blinking his eyes admiring the extraordinary physical
attributes of his two spectacularly enhanced (dick-less) female classmates who
were cavorting directly in front of him oblivious to his existence.

He attributed his weird dream to his hugely all-encompassing anxiety relative
to an irrational fear that when his sister's second enhancement arrived it
would include a girl-cock, a big girl cock she would use to ass rape him
whenever the mood struck her.

Superman was walking down the hall when he witnessed the two huge female
teenagers engaging in what could only be described as pornographic acts. The
prudish Kryptonian watched the naughty girls fondling each other longer than
he should have, surprised by how aroused he had become watching the
girl-on-girl action. He could feel his Kryptonian penis twitching in his pants
begging for release.

Down the hall an exhausted and completely spent 'AMD1' enhanced Missy Adams
had fallen asleep in an empty class room. Her spontaneous growth spurt of
nearly a foot and well over 100-pounds of female muscle had scared the hell
out of her. She was sexually stimulated like never before and she was
obsessively compelled to masturbate, so masturbate she did (twice).

Scared or not Missy was thrilled. She had just experienced the full Amazon
Effect; seven feet tall, massive muscles, and a sexual stimulation never
before attained. She smiled knowing she would be the envy of the school and
her neighborhood.

She climbed to her feet and surveyed her magnificent new body estimating
herself to be at least seven-feet-tall, maybe two-hundred ten pounds of pure
lady muscle. Her one-minute old biceps were beyond huge, at least 26" when
flexed. Her entire body, including her twitching snatch, tingled with sexual
tension.

When the door swung open, she was shocked to see a gawking Superman looming in
the doorway. Ignoring her own nakedness, the teenaged girl smiled at the Man
of Steel immediately noticing that his eyes were laser focused on her massive
breasts and her perfectly manicured pussy. Her saucer sized pinkish areoles
and her erect nipples were beckoning him. Unknowingly Missy's body was exuding
powerful irresistible pheromones sexually encouraging and enticing an almost
helpless to resist Superman to abandon his inhibitions.

He immediately noticed that her huge flexed biceps were not only better
defined than his but likely surpassed his 24" Kryptonian biceps by at least
two full inches.

Just the thought of encountering a physically superior looking female
fulfilled one of Superman's sexual fetish fantasies and Superman's penis was
pressing against his tights. Uncharacteristically he ripped them from his body
suggestively displaying his own unusually long and thick Kryptonian cock.

Missy who continued to flaunt her muscles could not have been happier nor
hornier. She guided him onto his back and sat on his naked chest. She leaned
forward and passionately kissed his lips forcing her tongue deep into his
mouth rubbing her breasts all over his muscular body while sexually kneading
his throbbing erection.

Neither of the physically superior humans had any control over their
respective sexual urges. She engulfed his massive tool into her wetter than
wet vagina and rode the man like a bucking bronco. While the girl was by no
means a virgin, these wanton sexual acts were foreign to her.

She inexorably inched her vagina up his naked chest towards his quivering
mouth. He knew not her age nonetheless he was helpless to resist her and he
forcibly pulled her against his body. Emulating the best and most sexually
proficient of his past female partners Superman skillfully utilized his
tongue. He licked and sucked her engorged clitoris triggering an almost
immediate discharge of a voluminous thickish, gooey, sticky liquid; a pint of
the sweetest most pleasant tasting liquid one could ever imagine.

Superman's entire body had reached sexual nirvana; all of his nerve endings
felt as if they were on fire causing intense sexual pleasure, a pleasure he
had never experienced before. He wanted to experience some more of the same,
again, right then and there ... again and again and again.

But that was not to be because a sexually satisfied but extremely embarrassed
and blushing Missy Adams abruptly rose to her full heigh and bolted from the
empty classroom leaving Superman unfulfilled.

However, the moment he touched his own penis he excitedly gushed his schlong
juice all over himself. For well over an hour the sexually satisfied Man of
Steel lie helpless on the floor of the classroom drenched in his own odorous
perspiration and his own sticky semen dreaming about her intoxicating sweet
discharge.

Superman cleaned up as best he could. He dressed before he finally exited the
classroom. Almost immediately he encountered the giant girl who was now
wearing a large blue and gold trimmed robe taken from the football team locker
room. A frowning Missy Adams rushed up to him and surreptitiously handed him a
folded piece of paper before running away.

The ominous words written there on frightened the Kryptonian superhero to his
core. He quickly found an exit and flew directly but unsteadily towards his
Fortress of Solitude to reflect on his tenuous future.

Guy and Betty Jean Marshall quickly sidled up to the new and improved Missy
Adams their eighteen-year-old next-door neighbor. The trio wordlessly decided
to walk home together eventually discussing the events of the day. Guy so
wanted Missy to take off her robe or at least flash him, disappointed when she
did neither.

Missy kept her encounter with Superman to herself. The giant girl had huge and
far-reaching life-altering decisions to consider.

The medical staff at the school had tested her discharged bodily fluid.
Apparently, Missy Adams was among the less than one percent of the female
population who was cursed with potentially deadly emanations.

The big teen represented the one enhanced girl out of a thousand females who
produced a sometimes-deadly elixir; a sweet tasting addictive strength sapping
life-threatening discharge of a bodily secretion that required frequent
additional doses to keep the recipient from suffering serious illnesses often
with deadly consequences.

While it was totally unfair to her, Missy immediately realized that she had a
number of life changing decisions to contemplate:

She could deny the Man of Steel her juices and allow him to wither away and
possibly die and forever be branded by the world as a selfish bitch ...

She could devote the rest of her life to keeping the man alive by supplying
the "Protector of the Planet" with the substance he needed to stay alive ...

She could disappear and simply ignore the man and his needs allowing the cards
to fall where they may ...

"Damn it." Betty interrupted Missy's thoughts. "I wanted my Amazonian growth
spurt to happen for me before you."

Guy Marshall dreaded that possible eventually with nervous disquieting
trepidation. He realized that should his twin sister's second enhancement
include a penis (a dream of hers and a fear of his) she would likely ass-rape
him just to hear him weeping, whimpering, and whining.

Betty Jean squeezed Missy's bicep shocked by its size and hardness. She parted
her friends robe getting a glimpse for her breasts.

"Wow girl." Betty Jean deftly cupped her giant right boob. "You've got it all
going on."

"Yeah." Missy flashed a knowing smile.

"No matter." Betty Jean whispered to herself. "My time will come."

"The times." As Bob Dylan once told us. "They are a changing."

Batman was no longer patrolling the streets of Gotham City. Sadly, the aging
crime-fighter was physically incapable, unable, and unwilling to protect the
citizens from the seemingly omnipresent enhanced female miscreants. They
roamed the streets with abandon raising hell; reveling in the mayhem they
caused.

Selina Kyle, AKA, Catwoman was, unbeknownst to Batman or the police,
unofficially filling-in for the erstwhile Caped Crusader doing what she could
to combat the insalubrious criminal element terrorizing the citizens of
Gotham; the irony of which hadn't escaped the notorious former cat-burglar.

The thuggish hoodlums and miscreants who delighted in using their newly
acquired mega-strength were causing havoc and Selina decided she should
intervene whenever and wherever she could.

In the last few weeks, the Cat had hunted down and incapacitated a substantial
number of the hooligan-ettes (as she liked to call them) turning them over to
the police. The enhanced muggers were painfully aware of a vigilante type who
had been terrorizing the terrorizers; their own personal Boggy Man akin to how
vampires feared 'Buffy'.

That night a nattily dressed Selina Kyle had been searching the city for much
of the day looking for Batman when she herself was accosted by three members
of the worst of Lex Luther's female gangs ... Gang Green.

Luther (In this parallel universe) was nothing more than a glorified mob boss
who had managed to cajole and convince large numbers of 'enhanced superior
women' to join his crime syndicate. He stressed to them that while the
authorities would look the other way (for a stipend) and unofficially condone
a certain level of violence; muggings, harassments, and the like.

However, they would balk at any hint of savagery and brutality that resulted
in injury Real violence would not be tolerated. The girls had been admonished
to temper their aggressiveness. Lex Luther was demanding pussy cat behavior
vis-a-vie ally cat nastiest.

Each of the girls confronting the bejeweled woman was dressed in skintight
olive-drab jumpsuits. Clearly, the leader of this gang was the
six-foot-ten-inch tall 'super enhanced woman' who the others referred to as
Venom. She was flanked by her two six-foot-tall muscular acolytes; a blonde
named Malice and a brunette called Spite. The 'ladies' encircled their prey
hoping to score money and jewels; the $17,000 Rolex watch on the woman's wrist
and the expensive looking necklace had caught their notice.

Selina immediately realized their intent, so she wasted no time and took the
fight to them. The Cat leaped into the air and delivered a spinning
well-practiced karate kick to the blonde's throat dropping Malice to her knees
gasping for air. The moment her feet reacquired the ground Selina fired a
vicious right-handed karate-chop to the brunette's throat followed by a
reverse elbow smash to her temple knocking Spite out-cold.

The surprised nearly seven-foot-tall Venom mindlessly attacked and threw a
powerful right hand that Catwoman deftly side-stepped and ducked under. The
Cat skillfully positioned herself directly behind the obviously enhanced
assailant and quickly wrapped her own heavily muscled right arm around her
neck. Selina administered the wildly popular unbreakable rear naked-choke hold
cutting off the air supply of the surprised unhappy 'jolly green giant' until
Venom's complexion matched the color of her jumpsuit as she passed out.

Selina had rebuffed the attack by the three girls in less than a minute. She
constrained the lady 'evil doers' using plastic flex zip cuffs on the girl's
wrists and angles. The Gotham City Vigilante anonymously (as was her want)
contacted the Gotham City Police Department (G.C.P.D.) and reported the
attempted mugging, conveying the details of the incident as well as the
whereabouts of the 'sleeping' ladies.

Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne who was getting increasingly more and more uneasy about
being alone on the streets of Gotham. The Bat was stealthily hurrying home;
hiding in the shadows. A number of city streets were being monitored by
muscular super-girls who took great pleasure in teasing and robbing smaller
weaker males as well as an occasional woman.

While it was true that these despicable acts were being perpetrated by only a
small percentage of Gotham City's enhanced females resulting in just five to
ten incidents per night. It was nevertheless becoming a real problem for the
authorities and more importantly the 8.5 million citizens of Gotham.

The G.C.P.D. now consisting of mostly enhanced female patrol women had their
hands full combating the outbreak of criminal activity predominately female on
male crimes. Many of their arrests were gifts provided to them by an unknown
vigilante citizen.

These days Bruce Wayne rarely left his home anymore but tonight he had felt
compelled to attend a secret meeting of the male members of the fledgling
Justice League of America (J. L. A.) to discuss their options.

He understood all too well that were he to be captured, he would be a prized
prisoner worthy of a huge ransom. The obviously preoccupied Dark Knight was
only a few blocks away from his home, Wayne Manor. He was preparing himself to
consult with medical personnel working at Wayne Enterprises and search the
internet for information pertaining to Superman's 'medical' problem.

Bruce was just beginning to feel safe when suddenly he was snatched up into
the powerful muscular arms of what was likely an 'enhanced woman' ... The
Amazon affect was evident ... As he feebly struggled to disengage himself from
his much stronger captor, Batman could hear the disquieting sounds of a
giggling female.

He was being squeezed so tightly he actually lost consciousness. The female
considered the old bromine; she didn't know her own strength to be apt. Sure,
it was a clich�, but nonetheless in this case quite accurate.

The billionaire philanthropist was immediately whisked away to a mid-town
luxury condominium. The female wasn't as yet sure what she was going to do
with him or to him or for him but she knew whatever she decided to do, it was
going to be hell-a-fun, at least for her.

Superman was hoping and praying that his unique Kryptonian physiology would
protect him from the toxic effects of the girl's poisonous elixir. However,
the Man of Steel was racked with unrelenting fear; fear of the unknown. He
offered a quick prayer to his God, Rao, before phoning his closest friend.

He had spoken with Batman who had immediately put him in contact with medical
experts working at Wayne Enterprises promising not to reveal his circumstance
to the other members of the J. L. A.

Superman was encouraged to learn that the researches were familiar with the
effects of the vaginal discharged elixir and were already in the process of
synthesizing and duplicating the natural occurring tincture as a possible
antidote the efficacy of which had yet to be tested.

He arduously studied the many articles on the Internet learning much. Chiefly
because the affected female carriers were so few in numbers and the
transferences so rare it was not generally known to the public nor publicized
extensively.

All of the available data, sparse as it may have been, indicated that an
affected individual would begin to feel weak and feeble within the first
twenty-four hours of ingestion, often experiencing an unrelenting longing for
the sweet tasting nectar. The addiction would become all-consuming dominating
the affected individual's each and every thought.

One overriding concern leaped off the pages. If one were to ignore the craving
for seventy-two hours the physical need could begin to destroy the mind and
leave the man a blithering idiot unable to care for himself.

At the very same time Missy Adams was pursuing many of the same articles;
learning that her actions or non-actions could very likely determine the life
or death of Superman; naturally that burden weighed heavily on her.

The responsibilities thrust upon her overwhelmed the teenager and that night
she cried herself to sleep only to be interrupted by a phone call from
Superman suggesting a meeting at her home immediately after her school let
out, reminding her that time was of paramount importance to him.

"Okay then, it's a date." Not wanting to sound flippant about the meeting she
apologized. "I will be home not later than 4:00 PM." Her divorced mom was
attending an out-of-town work conference for the next several days so the
teenaged girl would be home alone. She hesitated for only a moment.

"I promise." She promised.

The diminished Superman was experiencing an actual epiphany ... being un-super
really sucked. He was experiencing the foibles of being human ... the aches
and the pains and the insecurities he had heard so much about but had paid so
little attention to were real and debilitating.

If he managed to retain his super powers Kal-El from Krypton promised himself
he would be more sensitive to the human plight.

Throughout that night Superman slept fitfully tossing and turning before
finally falling deep into the normally comforting arms of Morpheus, the God of
Sleep and Dreams. However, that night the Last Son of Krypton's dreams were
anything but comforting. In fact, Kal-El experienced the most vivid, most
terrifying, and what proved to be the most prescient nightmare of his
heretofore nearly perfect life.

His dream, nightmare really, began ominously.

An otherworldly green-skinned outrageously proportioned
nine-foot-six-inch-tall naked alien female warrior was taking full advantage
of Kal-El from Krypton's weakened state. With just one hand clutching the nape
of his neck she was affecting a painful and embarrassing reverse throat lift
holding the struggling man three-feet off the ground, laughing at him as he
feverishly churned his legs hoping to accomplish who knew what.

Lady Demeter, the Greek Goddess of the Harvest, was beating him as one would a
red-headed step child. She treated him as if he were an up-rooted plant intent
on forcing him back into the ground as if she were re-seeding a garden.

"You know Superman ... It's not easy being green."

The giggling Green-Goddess grabbed the top his head and forcibly pushed
Superman into the ground feet first and then proceeded to screw the helpless
man deeper and deeper and deeper into the fertile ground. He was powerless to
extricate himself from his preposterous imprisonment. Before Lady Demeter was
able to spread the buckets fertilizer (manure) meant to nurture and cultivate
her prize and before she was able to water her soon to be blossoming trophy by
pissing on him the tableau abruptly changed.

Superman found himself sitting on an unfamiliar bench in what appeared to him
to be a rather sparse home-exercise-room complete with a number of barbells
and some rudimentary exercise equipment.

He wasn't alone; a grinning intimidating muscle-flexing Missy Adams towered
over him proudly flexing her huge muscles while haughtily glowering at him
shaking her pretty head indicating no way ... not now ... not again ... not
never.

At least that's what Superman was reading into it.

Standing alongside Missy was a much younger looking smaller but well-muscled
teenaged girl who was using one hand to hoist a dumbbell over her head with
ridiculous ease while disdainfully sneering at him.

Standing next to her was a rail thin young man reading a comic book who only
occasionally looked over at Superman.

Superman was ravenous but not for food, he was desperate for a different form
of sustenance. He was feeling puny and discombobulated hungrily craving his
'fix' as he begged Missy with his eyes; please - they pleaded with her -
please.

He rose unsteadily from the bench intending to approach Missy when the smaller
girl who was clearly 'AMZ1' gene blessed flipped what turned out to be a
two-hundred-fifty-pound barbell to him.

He had barely managed to catch the weight. Falling backwards he placed his
puckering asshole back down on the bench, tightening his sphincter muscle
determined to avoid a most embarrassing happenstance. Inexplicably the weight
was too much for him to handle and his arms began to tremble noticeably and
uncontrollably.

"Oh sorry, let me." The child's condescending smile was so disrespectful the
Man of Streel was instantly frightened of her ... fearing what she might do
... what she could do ... what she about to do.

"Superman?" She taunted him with a snide smile. "Is this little old 250-pound
barbell too much for you to handle?" She pinched his cheek and laughed as he
winced.

The smirking little girl still using only one hand easily lifted the weight
off of him. Her upper arm exploded displaying her formidable over-sized
biceps. She impressively performed a number of stunning barbell presses before
effortlessly raising the 250-pound weight over her head.

The 'child' was easily holding twice her body weight motionless over her head
before gingerly placing it on the overhead rack. She arrogantly turned to face
a cowering Man of Steel and gleefully flexed her upper arms revealing two
massive biceps which rose to impossible peaks of enhanced teenaged feminine
power.

Adding insult to injury the preening teen mercilessly teased the incredulous
Kryptonian by using her left hand to massage her unworldly pulsating right
bicep as she silently mouthed the words 'pretty damn big, uh.'

The Amazon Effect was obvious as she tensed her entire body some more.
Everyone in the room watched as each one of her muscles grew to outrageously
cartoonish like proportions.

She grabbed Superman's cape with both of her strong hands, effortlessly lifted
the man off the ground, and swung the helpless Kryptonian male over her head
finally flinging the 'man of steel' into the far corner of the room. She was
arrogantly flaunting her strength while ignoring the warnings postulated by
the late great Jim Croce in an old rock-and-roll song ... 'You don't tug on
Superman's cape.'

Bathed in his own sweat Superman awakened from his way too realistic dream
still hearing the three of them laughing at his diminishing self, even the
once nerdy looking boy chuckled derisively as he had inexplicably grown to a
size that was every bit the physical equal of Superman himself ... 6'4 ... 240
pounds ... with 24" biceps.

Superman had never felt more helpless and thoroughly exhausted. He was sans
energy; ennui was the word of the day. He lazily looked over at the clock
distressed to learn it was nearly 4:00 PM. He had slept for nearly fourteen
hours. He 'quickly' but unsteadily flew to the home of Missy Adams only to
learn no one was home. He tried calling her only to get her voice mail. His
message to her while frantic was simple:

"Where are you ... I need you ... Now." He didn't leave his name; she would
know it was he.

"Superman?" A familiar looking young boy approached him. "Hi, I'm Guy Marshall
... Are you here to see Missy? When Superman nodded his head in the
affirmative. "She's my neighbor." Marshall let his hero enter her home through
the basement and ushered him into her exercise room.

"She's been delayed at school; you know, dealing with the TV people, the
reporters, and the medical people." He looked amused by it all. "Everyone in
town with a microphone or a pencil wants to talk with her. Missy should be
home soon."

Superman was immediately experiencing de ja vu. The room was all too familiar
to him and the presence of a muscular young girl lifting weights actually
frightened him, dread consumed his very being. He knew one thing for certain
this was not a dream. He prayed hoping she wouldn't toss him a weight he
couldn't handle.

He needn't have worried about that because Betty Jean Marshall the devious
muscle enhanced girl so reminisce of the vixen in his dream was formulating a
much more Machiavellian plan for Superman.

"What do you want from Missy?" Betty asked suspiciously.

"That's between me and her." He thought for a second. "Her and I?" Superman
seemed to having an argument with himself and he seemed to be losing. "She and
I?" His brain functions were addled and his grammatical acumen seemed to have
been compromised.

Superman was trying to look strong but instead he was sweating profusely,
barely able to hold his head up.

"Bro, you should leave right now." Betty was issuing a command to her brother
and he knew all too well it would be prudent for him to simply obey. Still
hoping to impress Superman, the boy hesitated.

"Make your useless self useful you useless little piece of useless shit." She
laughed at her own turn of a phrase. "Go look for Missy ... NOW ... Right
fucking NOW."

"Hey big guy." She softened her voice. "Are you okay?" Betty asked feigning
concern. "You don't look very Super."

"I'm just a little out of sorts, that's all." He had never been more unsure of
himself. He could feel his entire body slumping forward.

"Good to know." Sensing his obvious weakness Betty moved closer to the
trembling man who stood a foot taller than she. Betty Jean flexed her imposing
enhanced 14" biceps which to her seemed to be getting larger (she would need
to measure later).

Even though this girl was nowhere near the size of the one in his dream she
was nonetheless extremely intimidating and the fearful Kryptonian cowered away
from her.

"I think you may enjoy this." She flexed hard. "I want you to feel my big
girlie muscles." She paused for only a second. "Right fucking now."

She literally forced an uneasy super-less Man of Steel to lay his shaky hands
on her upper arms. He squeezed as hard as he could, surprised that his
diminished self couldn't even penetrate her granite like muscle. She again
flexed furiously some more and 'accidently' bumped him off the bench to the
floor. She quickly pounced on his prone body pinning his upper arms down to
the floor with her knees; a dominating classic schoolyard pin.

At full strength the Man of Steel would have easily lifted the little girl off
of him. However, try as he might in his current state, he was unable to even
budge the 125-pound girl which for him was an embarrassment of epic
proportions.

Betty could feel the once mighty Superman helplessly juddering beneath her.
His feeble attempts at trying to escape from her were laughable. She pulled
him up onto his feet and much as she had done with her brother in the
bathroom, Betty Jean pinned his body against the wall controlling the
'strongest man in the world' trapping him in her overpowering embrace.

She wordlessly smirked, enjoying his pained facial expressions as he was
quickly coming to the realization just how helpless he really was against her
devastating lady strength and how he was totally at the mercy of a girl who
likely had no mercy within her.

Superman was helpless, he knew it, she knew it, and anyone who may have been
watching would have known it as well.

She released her devastating bear-hug and forced him to ground. He latched
onto a one-hundred-pound barbell and began to repeatedly curl the weight, all
the while watching her left bicep rhythmically bounce up and down while
traversing along her upper arm; an action that never didn't dampen her
panties.

For leverage the five-foot-four-inch one-hundred-twenty-five-pound teeny
bopper was resting her powerful right forearm on the Kryptonian creep's thick
neck just below his jutting chin. She could feel him gulping for air ... The
Man of Steel feared be might actually swallow his own Adams-apple.

Even though Superman was thrashing his legs all about and struggling with all
his might in a futile and pathetic struggle to get away from the teenaged
dynamo, his efforts were barely noticeable to Betty.

The crazed fanatically over-heated determined teen was in need of a sexual
release. She was 'accidently' choking him out. The act of denying him the
ability to breathe was an aphrodisiac and her over active estrogen levels were
stimulating her libido resulting in a delicious orgasm.

She was hoping to establish her place in history as the girl who rid the world
of its biggest 'male' oppressor and she pressed on with her advantage.

Much like Jamie Lannister the fictional character from HBO's Game of Thrones
was known as the 'King Slayer' soon Betty Jean Marshall would be known
world-wide as the 'Superman Slayer.'

It was against his Kryptonian nature to surrender but Superman could feel
himself aimlessly floating. Actually, he was sinking into a deep dark
foreboding abyss, a void from which he could find no escape.

Contrary to conventional secular thinking and popular religious beliefs
Superman, who felt himself to be near death, had yet to encounter the promised
bright light. The light of salvation that was supposed to lead the worthy to
the promised land was absent; an apparent ecclesial myth concocted by
religious people to give hope to the hopeless, help to the helpless, and
strength to the strength-less.

At that moment in time Kal-El who was facing his mortality was questioning the
continued existence of Rao, his own God. The Kryptonian born man was beginning
to rationalize what should have been obvious. Krypton, his home planet, had
been literally obliterated out of existence along with all of its inhabitants.
Which begged the question ... What of Rao ... Was he gone as well?

A vast nothingness was consuming Kal-El devouring his unique essence and he
was helpless to do anything about his circumstance. The young girl was so
strong so powerful so filled with hate and determination while he was
currently so much less than that. He was so weak so defenseless, resigned to
his imminent fate and yet Superman found himself still praying to Rao for his
salvation.

Betty, simply because she could, shoved her hand into his trousers and
massaged his massive throbbing Kryptonian erection to completion. For some
reason the teen sex-pot wanted the man to cum before he went bye-bye forever.

For her own amusement she wiped her hand clean of his Kryptonian cum on the
big 'S' adorning the creep's chest.

A distraught and super-less Superman didn't know if he were coming or going.
Random meaningless disjointed thoughts rolled around in his head ... I regret
I have but one life to give ... I'll be back ... Rumors of my death have been
greatly exaggerated ... Ba de Ba de Ba de that's all folks ...

Suddenly he found himself breathing normally again; well, to be a bit more
accurate he was gulping and gasping for air with every labored breath he
managed; hardly normal but good enough for now.

The cavalry, in the guise of the seven-foot Missy Adams had arrived just in
time. She forcibly pulled the maniacal Betty Jean off the struggling Superman
and flung her half way across the room where she silently remained alone with
her thoughts.

This was the first time the newly anointed superior female had cause to
demonstrate her overwhelming power. She displayed her stunning muscularity by
disposing of Betty Jean as if the overly muscled teen terror were nothing more
than a half-empty bag of marshmallows.

The enhanced Amazonian like girl had metaphorically ridden in on a white horse
lifting Superman to his feet where he wobbled precariously before quickly
gaining his footing, sort of.

He remained almost motionless until she assisted him into the locker room
where, without hesitation, she spread her legs and held his head in position
allowing the desperate weeping man to greedily suck in her life-saving juices.

"Thank you, Missy." He wiped a tear from his eye. "Thank you so much.

Almost immediately the Last Son of Krypton had regained his super strength if
not his pride; those feelings and emotions of self-respect were likely gone
forever. His first reaction was to confront and punish the 'AMZ1' blessed girl
in the other room who had tried to choke him out but he thought better of it
and let it slide.

"Missy, you should realize that in the last couple of minutes you saved my
life twice."

"Here, take this." She spoke unemotionally as she opened her gym bag and
presented it to Superman. "This contains nine one-pint vials of my bodily
fluids. You can imagine how embarrassing and troubling that was for me to
produce."

"In my religion masturbation is a sin. Self-gratification is one thing but
those acts were not only lamentable but deplorable. If it works for you and if
used judiciously the elixir should last you several weeks."

"Yes ... If it works ... If it retains its potency ... Thank you ... We'll
stay in touch ... Right?" His tearing eyes were begging her.

"Yes, of course." Misty feared the big freak was destined to be her life-long
burden. Nonetheless, she graciously leaned forward and compassionately kissed
the distressed superhero on his forehead all the while contemplating her
eventual escape.

When the previously unconscious Batman finally awakened, he found himself
securely bound to a bed situated in a what appeared to be an extremely well
furnished bedroom setting. The superior woman had strapped him down on the
mattress so tightly he could barely move.

His worst fears were being realized; he was the prisoner of a masked, very
tall, very muscular, very naked, young female who had earlier deposited the
helpless ex-superhero in what he assumed was a guest bedroom. He hoped the
woman would be content with ransom money; which he was certain would be an
extremely large amount. He was more than just positive that the C.F.O. at
Wayne Enterprises would not quibble over money.

The Bat was glad to have been 'rescued' from the streets unharmed. However,
given his current circumstance he was more than just a little concerned. He
was actually terrified being at the mercy of the 'enhanced woman' who held
sway over him. He had heard the stories of the mutilations and the rapes and
the severe beatings and the RAPES.

The still masked bicep flaunting female standing before him was proudly
displaying her favorite full-body muscle pose, a pose that optimally showed
off her powerful Amazon body to the naked awe-struck Batman. When the women
finally removed her hood, he experienced unequaled anger and relief.

"Very fucking funny." He shouted at his former lover. "You scared the shit out
of me."

"Bruce ... If that were to happen you would be the one to clean it up." She
flexed her enhanced biceps again announcing she wasn't kidding.

Selina was clearly one the sexiest enhanced females of her generation. When
tested the presence of the 'AMZ1' gene was off the charts; more dominant in
her than most. She was only a couple of inches taller now and while her
muscles were thicker and more defined, size-wise the differences while clearly
noticeable were not outrageous in proportionality.

For example, her flexed biceps had increased substantially but not
outrageously by a little more than three inches, from 16" to nearly 20" of
powerful peaked perfection. The differences needed to be measured in the
strength her muscles engendered rather than just size. When, not if, Selina
experiences her second enhancement, she will likely achieve unprecedent
growth; her 'ADZ1' levels virtually guaranteed as much.

Nonetheless, Selina Kyle never tired of flexing her new and improved 'lady
guns' over and over again.

More importantly Selina Kyle was easily three to four times stronger than she
had been before her enhancement and she couldn't have been happier about that.
Her strength when coupled with her extraordinary fighting skills was what had
allowed her to easily eviscerate the ladies of Gang Green.

The Bat's large penis was proudly standing at attention surveying its
surroundings.

Selina effected the Crab Pose, a pose favored by most completive body
builders. She began by clasping her strong hands together at the same time
contracting her obliques, anterior deltoids, biceps, forearms, and abdominals
all the while watching the Bat's cock waving at her.

Cat also flexed her quadriceps and calves displaying outrageous definition. At
the same time, she flexed her pectorals causing her breasts to sexily expand
and contract accentuating her wasp like waste.

Batman couldn't believe what he was seeing. Selina Kyle had always been
beautiful, sexy, strong, fit, and well-built; did anyone mention sexy?
However, everything about her new self was vastly 'superior' and sexier than
her former self.

When he imagined being alone with her again, touching her, kissing her,
stroking her exquisite body, being inside her he became overly excited and his
pulsing penis prematurely exploded depositing his huge load onto his chest and
her onto luxurious bed sheets while puddling on her expensive carpet causing
her to laugh uproariously.

"Look ma, no hands." Selina laughed at him some more enjoying the effect her
now body was having on her former lover.

"I'm not cleaning that up either." She laughed again but she wasn't joking and
he knew it.

"Get to work." She untied the man and pointed him towards the laundry room.

"Give me a minute."

He grabbed his cell and noted several missed calls from Superman. Bruce
immediately phoned his friend and learned about Clark's deteriorating physical
condition, his life-saving session with Missy, and the vials of her
discharges. He offered to have Wayne Enterprises medical researchers examine
him and test everything.

"Clean-up on aisle nine."

The once proud Dark Night felt he needed to add a little levity to his menial
mundane chores. So, as the Bat began to wash and scrub away his own
emanations, he happily sang ... 'Heigh-ho ... Heigh-ho ... It's off to work I
go.'

"Don't quit your day job." Selina critiqued his musical talents. "You may have
a career in the house cleaning business in your future but singing is not your
forte." They both laughed, she considerably more than he.

Selina hugged her former lover close, her extraordinary strength evident to
him while his weakness saddened her. They could feel the passion welling up
inside as they made love, twice, as if both of those times had been their
first time together.

Catwoman, as always purred with delight.

"Now, tell me about your friend Superman." She demanded. When the Bat finished
neither he nor she were laughing, not even a little bit.

Having completed their extensive tests and exhaustive examinations a cadre of
doctors and medical researchers all from Wayne Enterprises accompanied by
Batman and Catwoman gathered together in Superman's master bedroom ready to
impart their findings.

A very pale, very tired, very exhausted, very anxious Superman was propped up
in his customed made emperor-sized-bed patiently waiting to hear from the team
of medical experts.

"Relax Superman." Doctor Person, who had apparently been elected spokes-person
for the group, looked dower as he began to deliver the news. "We have some
good news for you and some ..."

"Spare me the bullshit." Superman interrupted. He was clearly frightened and
eager to hear the latest prognosis, his fate hanging in the balance.
Nonetheless, the Last Son of Krypton managed to deliver a little joke.

"What's up Doc?" He joked.

"Actually, Superman. You are not sick, not even a little bit." Doctor Person
noticeably gulped clearly uneasy to go on. "Your vital signs are pristine. I
am, however, at a loss to explain what is happening, has happened, to you."

"Doc?" Batman encouraged the man to cut to the chase.

"Cut to the chase." He encouraged.

"Superman, you are perfectly healthy, for a human." The doctor paused before
continuing. "We have no explanation for what has happened to you. Inexplicably
you seem to have lost all of your Kryptonian superpowers as well as your
invulnerability." He frowned before continuing.

"The reason you are feeling so tired and weak is easily explained. The
differences between your former impervious to pain super-self and the human
you are today is so disparate it makes you weak in comparison."

"Understand, you were once nearly a million times stronger than you are
today.; a million times stronger than the average man. It will take sometime
for you to adapt but soon you will be able to function as any normal human."
Dr. Person sighed. "Naturally, we will continue to explore every available
avenue and devote every asset at our disposal to finding a 'cure' for your,
eh-eh, circumstance.'

"Superman." Batman looked and sounded concerned for his friend. "You can stay
with us until you acclimate yourself." The Bat and the Cat hugged. "You can
stay with us for as long as you wish."

"Thanks."

"No thanks needed, Superman."

"Stop it. Both of you, just stop it." Superman frowned. "It appears that at
lease for now Superman is no more. I guess from now on you and Cat and
everyone else on the planet should refer to me as ... Normal Man."

Guy Marshall was as excited a starving alley cat sneaking into an exotic fish
emporium or a nymphomaniac with a sack full of dicks or a weak nerd
anticipating the acquisition of super-powers.

The aspiring boy magician couldn't stand it any longer. So, rather than wait
for the guy in the khaki shorts to finish his cigarette the boy sprinted
across the street to the double-parked UPS truck.

Guy was afraid the book he had ordered entitled ... 'Best Magic Tricks
Revealed' ... would turn out to be nothing more than a rip-off but Guy had the
money to spend and with not much of a life to speak of he had nothing else to
spend it on. He decided his outlay of $49.95 would at least provide him with
some form of entertainment.

In addition, Guy had been intrigued by the promise of a bonus gift. The
magazine ad claimed the gift was something that could change one's life and
alter one's destiny forever, in perpetuity or even longer.

The hard-cover book was a pleasant surprise. The contents of which appeared to
be as advertised; detailed illustrations of classic magical illusion, sleight
of hand card tricks, clever on-topic antidots, as well as numerous additional
well-written and interesting stories exploring the dark arts.

However, the bonus gift was a bit of disappointment to him. It was nothing
more than a small polished stone that was referred to by the vendor as a
talisman or an amulet, a charmed stone purported to possess properties that
could grant the owner with a wish, a single wish that would immediately be
granted with only one caveat.

The instructions clearly stated a proviso; the wish-maker must be worthy. A
caveat that likely meant it wouldn't work, a caveat that absolved the company
of any fault or liability should the wish not come true. Still, the stone was
pretty cool looking, presentable in appearance ... likely a synthetic
multi-colored faux opal.

Initially Guy Marshall placed the stone on his desk top near his computer and
tried to put it out of his mind. Eventually he put the stone in his desk
drawer embracing the theory that out of sight our of mind.

Almost immediately Guy began to play a 'what if' daydream game.

What if the claim were true?

What if Guy actually did have one wish coming to him?

For what should he wish?

Would Guy Marshall be worthy?

What if the enclosed stone was an actual functionable talisman with magic
properties?

What if he had a pig that could fly?

He understood the absurdity of a magical amulet and yet he picked it up,
stared at wistfully, and rolled it around in his hands. He fully realized that
a talisman although purported to avert evil and bring good fortune to its
owner was likely nothing more than fantasy. In Western European folk lore, a
legitimate talisman was and is believed to possess miraculous powers; praise
la vie.

A pensive Guy Marshall knew one thing for certain he wanted to be stronger,
much stronger than his overbearing sister. Any wish he made would shield him
from her bullying, teasing, and embarrassments he has lived with for most of
his life.

However, Guy was smart enough to know that when a wisher proffered his/her
wish, that wish must never be ambiguous, must never leave any room for
misinterpretations. The wish must always be concise and clearly stated.

For instance, a wish like the one he just postulated in his head could result
in his sister's strength be diminished to be less than his but not necessarily
increase his. He jotted down a number of ideas and put them aside.

Guy wisely decided to sleep on it.

Betty Jean was not only an overly aggressive hugely muscled teenaged girl; she
was also more curious than a nine-lived kitty cat. She surreptitiously
examined her brother's newest purchase, thumbed through his book on magic, and
laughed uproariously at the preposterous bonus gift, a magic amulet that could
grant wishes.

Nonetheless, Betty Jean committed to memory his notes pertaining to his
possible wish.

"Hello." Caller ID was blocked but Missy answered her cell anyway,
interrupting her newly programmed musical ditty ... Big Girls Don't Cry (they
don't cry).

"Good evening Missy Adams. My name is Lois Lane I'm an investigative reporter
with the Daily Planet.

"Not interested." Missy was curious so she didn't immediately hang up.

"Please allow me a minute of your time. The Planet is planning to run a very
important story in the morning edition, a story in which you are a major
participant. We wish to provide you with an opportunity to comment on the
veracity of the story and its details.

"Hold on." Missy was curious but she didn't want to talk to the lady reporter.
"Isn't this where I'm supposed to say no comment?"

"Of course, that is your right." The paper only had the one source and they
were reluctant to go to print without some sort of calibration. Lacking that,
the lawyers would feel better if at least the girl didn't deny the story. "Why
don't you listen to what we are about to print before you decide whether or
not you want to challenge any of the facts."

Missy remained silent unconsciously kneading her massive girl-cock enjoying
the sensations, sensation that were fast approaching the point of no return.
She reached for the designated beaker that would facilitate the filling of the
glass vials meant for Superman. In her mind Missy was saying to herself, ...
Oh, hell no ... not this time ... this one is for me.

"Okay?" Lois didn't wait for a response and laid out the story in
chronological order.

Missy listened closely but continued the manipulation her of her now throbbing
member, quickly spewing her she-men into a had towel. She collapsed on the
couch in a happy stupor while still trying to concentrate on the reporter's
words.

Lois began thusly ... We at the paper have learned that Superman has lost all
of his superpowers. We have learned that you were recently transformed into a
seven-foot girl with a penis; someone who is now commonly being referred to as
an enhanced woman. We have learned that you and he performed fellatio on one
another." Lois heard Missy gasp. "Don't worry. We at the Dailey Planet are not
judging you or he ... The crux of the story will focus on Superman and his
current condition."

The enamored reporter who had always had massive crush on the Man of Steel
refrained from asking the questions most paramount to her ... How was he as a
lover? Is he a considerate lover? Is he large in the pants?

The reporter continuously prodded Missy to embellish, comment, or deny any of
allegations or details of the story.

"In addition, we at the paper have learned that your secretions have somehow
drained the man of his super powers effectively rendering him ..." She paused
searching for the right word ... settling on ... "Normal." Lois then asked a
question the answer to which was paramount to the paper.

"Missy, do you wish to deny the veracity of the story or would you like to add
clarifying details you would want included in the story?"

"Stop it." Missy screamed. "Just stop it." Not knowing what to say she
repeated her earlier response. "No comment."

Lois was quite pleased with herself. While the investigative reporter hadn't
received confirmation, she hadn't received a denial either and that would be
sufficient enough for the paper to publish.

Missy immediately called Superman learning that he had already been notified
of the story. He assured her that she needn't worry about any of it. He had
been promised that Missy's name would not be revealed.

Superman had been promised by a comely 'ADZ1' enhanced young reporter named
Lois Lane and the paper's Editor in Chief, Perry White that if he granted them
an exclusive interview, they would keep Missy's name a secret.

Superman who was attempting to put on a good face trying to appear strong and
super but managing to do neither. He greeted the duo while still seated in a
large leather chair looking anything but confident. He ushered Lois Lane into
the den where they commenced with a serious discussion of the sordid details
and ramifications of the story.

Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle vacated her condo together; giving Superman space
while he spoke with the people form the Daily Planet.

The billionaire philanthropist was looking dapper in his custom made $43,000
three-piece suit from the Brioni Vanquish collection; a suit that appeared to
have never met a wrinkle. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Selina was a
little more casual wearing her form fitting Dolce Gabbana Daisy Duke styled
cropped blue jeans and a sleeveless Versace T-shirt that showed off her supple
gravity defying breasts and her massive recently enhanced biceps.

As 'the couple' was leaving they encountered three somber looking gentlemen
who were entering the condo ostensibly to meet with Superman.

"Who the hell are those guys?" Selina was curious.

"How would I know?" He paused. "Did I get here before you?" Batman offered an
amusing possibility. "The Three Stooges?"

"More like the Three Musketeers." Selina wanted to play too. "It's your turn
now." The challenge was a foot.

The former Superhero and a current giggling She-Hero rapidly exchanged the
names of other well-known threesomes.

"My Three Sons ... The Three Wise Men ... Huey, Dewey, and Louie ... Three
Blind Mice ... Three Little Pigs, the Magi (Selina was proud of the one), The
Three Tenors, The Three Bears, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly."

The two very bright, very knowledgeable, and very competitive
quasi-superheroes were running out of trios to offer.

"The Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria." Selina laughed as she delivered
that one.

"Okay then." Batman offered up another non sequitur. "Sex, drugs, and
rock-roll." Selina countered with 'Bacon, Lettuce, and tomato."

The duo began anew with legitimate offerings.

"Crosby, Stills, and Nash ... The Kingston Trio ... The Father, the Son, and
the Holy Ghost, ... Kukla, Fran, and Ollie ... Peter. Paul and Mary ... Alvin,
Simon, and Theodore ... Snap, Crackle, and Pop ... Larry, Curly, and Moe ...
Tinkers, to Evers, to Chance."

"What?" Selina knew not of that reference but followed up the with ... "The
Three Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

"I challenge that one." Batman puffed up his chest claiming victory in a
contest that had no actual rules.

"Selina, there were four horsemen of the Apocalypse not three." He applauded
himself and continued.

"They're alternately called ... Conquest ... War ... Plague ... Famine." He
added that some people substituted in the names with Pestilence and/or Death.
"In any event there are always four Horsemen not three ... You lose."

"While technically that may be true." Selina was thinking on her feet.
"However, I know for a fact that Famine is currently taking a break from evil
doings and is now on a break eating lunch at an 'In-and-Out-Burger' joint."

The three men to whom Perry White was speaking with, well listening to, made a
compelling case to delay printing the story coupled with terrifying
governmental threats if he and the paper didn't acquiesce promising numerous
audits with warnings of the decertification of the paper's license to continue
publishing.

Bradley Omar Patton, the oldest and tallest of the three men was the current
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff; the highest-ranking member of the
United States of America's Armed Forces. Perry White recognized Jason Bond
James as the Acting Director of the CIA's Intelligence and Logistic Bureau.
The third man was introduced, sans a name or a job title, as a close adviser
to Superman.

For years, unknown to the general public, Superman representing the American
Government had been brokering and enforcing cease-fires and actual peace
treaties in the Middle East, South and Central America, much of Africa as well
as the Bloods and the Crips in America.

When Perry learned that Superman was, er, had been surreptitiously working as
an enforcer, stabilizing tensions and keeping the peace throughout the world
he reluctantly agreed to hold the story for the foreseeable future. At least
until the Government had time to prepare for the inevitable world-wide chaos
that would soon engulf the planet.

Perry White broke a journalist's cardinal rule to never reveal the identity of
a confidential source and did the unthinkable, he named his source.

Two six-foot-five-inch tall well-built C.I.A. agents dressed in matching all
black three-piece suits approached Betty Jean Marshall with caution. The young
girl was known to possess classified highly sensitive intel that she was
promising to sell to the highest bidder. If thwarted this girl threatened to
divulge everything she knew to the media. The agency directed that the girl
needed to be stopped at all costs.

The highly trained veteran agents had been warned about her abnormal strength
had been cautioned to be at the ready.

"Miss Marshall?" The guy asked her again. Betty Jean Marshall? "You need to
come with us."

Agent, Craig Daniels, presented his Government I.D. to the girl and placed his
hand on her shoulder and inappropriately massaged and kneaded the soft supple
area between her shoulder and neck. The agent was impressed with and turned on
by the hardness of her muscular frame and the macho jerk wished to test her.

"Anyone ever call you B.J.?" He asked creepily.

"Yes." She flexed her right bicep. "But never twice." She playfully punched
the agent in the arm. An action meant to distract him.

"Hold on a minute, sparky." Betty laughed aloud, ducked away from the agent,
grabbed his left hand forcing his arm behind his back pushing it further up
his back than any arm was designed to endure.

Next, she spun the well-trained agent around, deftly removed his gun (a
Glock-19) from his side holster, aimed it at his startled partner, and issued
a stern warning. "Don't do anything stupid ... B.J, is an excellent shot." She
lied.

"You have a name?" Still holding the Glock at the ready Betty forced agent
Daniels down to the ground on his stomach. She released his arm while placing
her booted foot on his back grinding her heel into his back.

"Well, do you?"

"Yes. Yes mam." He and his voice trembled. "It's Frazier ... My name is
Frazier Jackson." He took hold of his gun by the barrel; ostensibly ready to
surrender his weapon to a five-foot-four-inch teenager.

"I'm a father, please don't shot me."

He suddenly grabbed her right wrist attempting to wrest the gun away from her
but she retained her firm grip. Even as pulled on her, her forearm remained
rigid, unmoving.

"Really?" Betty was incredulous. "Really, dude?" She looked at the agent as if
he had two heads but only one hat.

"What is you don't understand about enhanced Amazon power girls?" She squeezed
his hand until he began to beg her for mercy.

"Mercy." He begged.

"Are you really a father?"

"No." He admitted.

She delivered a devasting left hook to the man's crotch, dropping him to the
ground. The agent was holding his balls writhing in pain.

"Down goes Frazier!" She quipped.

"Let's go." Betty commandeered their car, a black SUV with government plates
and tinted windows. (clich� much)

"Daniels, you drive."

"Where to?" He asked.

"Just take me to your leader." She laughed and poked him in the ribs with the
Glock. "Come on, that was hell-a-funny."

Together they walked into the lobby of the luxury hotel. Agent Daniels
presented his credentials and they were granted access to the exclusive
elevator leading to the presidential suite. Frazier was hurting, walking as if
he were wearing a much too tight thong. Just before the door opened, she
knocked the two agent's heads together rendering them a little dizzy, a lot
woozy, and nearly unconscious.

"Here's Johnny." Betty entered the stateroom populated by a bunch of startled
old white guys. She had slipped her hands under each of the agent's belts
inadvertently caressing their buttocks while effortlessly holding the two
spooks off the ground like bags of groceries.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, welcome Miss Marshall." A stoic unimpressed James Earl Greer, the
current Head of the Central Intelligence Agency was sitting cross-legged on a
couch. He patted the cushion nearest him, inviting Betty to sit.

"Sit." She unceremoniously dropped the agents, Daniels and Ryan, to the ground
as if she were a rap-singer dropping the microphone.

"Why am I here?" She flexed her right bicep which was now, after another mini
growth spurt coupled with numerous strenuous weight-lifting sessions, measured
a little over 16" in diameter startling all of the old white guys in the room,
each of whom had sprouted a chubby; including the two gay guys.

"I'm missing valuable gym time." She flexed again enjoying the many lustful
looks.

Director Greer solemnly explained in great detail why Betty Jean Marshall had
been summoned into the inner-circle of the highest echelon of Government
higher-ups for a reason of paramount importance. Her callous reaction and
seeming indifference were not what the Director had been expecting nor hoping
for.

"So what?" When Betty began to rise four heavily armed federal agents entered
the room blocking every avenue of egress.

"What's that got to do with me?"

"Sit your little ass back down, NOW." The Director of the CIA's tone was one
of no nonsense.

"Believe this. You are not going anywhere young woman. For the foreseeable
future you will be the guest of the Federal Government. You will be treated
well, housed in a luxury hotel, afforded gourmet food of you choosing, as well
as the most sophisticated exercise equipment on the market."

"The information you possess, Superman's diminished capacity, is a matter of
National Security and you will not be allowed to make any of it public."

"Capisce?" "He restated his edict in case she didn't. "Understand?"

"Whatever." Betty returned to her seat and defiantly crossed her legs and
folded her big arms across her chest. Her body language said it all ... fuck
off.

"Did you not under-fucking-stand me?" Greer shouted in her ear.

"Yeah." A seemingly humbled Betty Jean Marshall silently nodded indicating she
did. At that moment in time Betty decided to bide her time, lay low, and avail
herself of the Government's larges.

For most of her adult life Lois Lane had been five-foot-six-inches tall
fluctuating between 120 and 130 pounds blessed with full breasts and a
miniscule waist. Now, after her one and only growth spurt Lois stood nearly
five-foot-ten-inches, weighing close to 140 pounds of solid feminine muscle,
the best kind of muscle, muscle that had increased her strength and her sexual
appetite three-fold.

She had always harbored a secret crush on the Man of Steel not only
fantasizing about an unlikely coupling of their bodies but hoping for marriage
and children, complete with the obligatory white picket fence. The woman
reporter had a very high opinion of herself

She realized that If she were ever to actualize her fantasy now was her
chance. She flirted with the diminished man as she had never flirted with
anyone before.

"Check this out big guy." The clearly 'ADZ1' enhanced female slowly removed
all of her clothing proudly revealing her slim but extremely fit athletic body
flaunting her spectacular 38" DD breasts while flexing her enhanced 18"
biceps.

Superman was enthralled by her beauty and the muscularity of the spectacular
female posing for his benefit. It was as if their chance meeting had been
fated by the Gods (or in this case by the Goddesses). It was as if their
serendipitous opportune meeting was meant to compensate him for the loss of
his super powers.

The strikingly beautiful newspaper reporter realized she was considerably
stronger than he and she feared that being with a woman stronger than he would
be a turn off for the once strongest and most powerful man on planet earth.

Lois immediately realized she needn't have worried about that. He was looking
at her with lust in his steel blue eyes, a look she welcomed with all of her
heart.

Superman couldn't believe what was about to happen ... what was happening ...
what had happened ... and ... what was surely going to happen over and over
again.

He had never experienced a moment of blissful love making that even approached
the level of ecstasy and passion he felt in those moments. For the first time
'Normal Man' had been allowed to give it his all and he energetically
unleashed his unbridled ardor as never before. Superman had always needed to
be careful because if he were too rough on his mate de jour, he would likely
kill her.

He replayed in his mind the exquisite moment of their simultaneous orgasms.
She was sitting on top of him, his large Kryptonian cock engulfed by her
vagina; the internal muscles of which were intermittently tightening and
contracting first with vigor and then by tenderly lovingly manipulating and
gently kneading his penis.

She rose up revealing her perfect bouncing undulating breasts which were now
in full view of the awe-struck Kryptonian. She flexed hard intent on showing
the full extent of her fully enhanced 18" spectacularly peaked female biceps
causing both she and her life-long crush to climax in unison.

It was as if his penis had taken on a mind of its own. Everything else was
comfortably numb except for an indescribable blissful penile sensation. While
his pleasure moment had been all too brief, Superman took great solace in
knowing that he was already rock hard ready and aching for round two.

Lois greedily caressed his manhood with abandon rubbing her perfect breasts
and her muscular self against him devouring his penis with unmatched passion.
Finally, she took his cock in her warm mouth watching him as his eyes rolled
back in his head as he joyously spurted and spilled 'buckets' of his
Kryptonian cum.

Superman was beginning to suspect that in his current super-less condition his
penile nerve endings were actually more hypersensitive, tender, and responsive
than ever before, not altogether a bad trade off.

Completely sated Superman luxuriated on his Emperor-sized bed. He was
beginning to reevaluate his circumstance mentally regurgitating the pros and
cons wondering if the loss of his superpowers was an altogether bad thing. As
Normal Man he was now able to make unrestrained passionate love.

More importantly Normal Man had come to realize that his penis was now much
more sensitive than ever before. While in the past his 15" Kryptonian cock was
often as hard as a steel rod but his massive tool hadn't been all that
sensitive to the tactile touch.

In addition, he was now relieved of the tremendous burden and back breaking
responsibilities that went hand to hand with being the 'Protector of the
Planet.'

"Lois, that was the most exciting sexual experience of my life." His smile
spoke volumes. "Is it wrong for me to thank you?"

"Oh, God no. Superman, er ah, Normal Man. I've been in love with you ever
since I was little girl. Today, all of my dreams have been realized." She
giggled girlishly. "I should be thanking you; thank you."

"But Lois. I'm not the same man with whom you fell in love ... I am no longer
Super ... That man is likely gone forever."

"Oh darling. I didn't love you for your Superpowers." She kissed him on the
lips and continued. "I love you because of who you are ... A man who made it
his life's mission all about helping the helpless, protecting the world from
natural disasters, from both terrestrial and alien threats, a man who enforced
mutual defense pacts. A man who exhibited compassion and empathy for all. A
man who never asked for anything in return. As far as anyone knows you don't
even possess a wallet."

"Wow Lois, you have no idea how much that means to me."

Normal Man decided to humbly accept her effusive praise. She didn't need to
know the truth. She didn't need to know that he was addicted to the reverence,
adulation, and the love afforded to him by the citizens of earth. She didn't
need to he was a mega-narcissist who was obsessed with and dependent upon
their god like worship and he knew he was going to miss the adulation.

She certainly didn't need to know that his bank account rivaled that of the
Saudi Family. He had more money than God, a tad less than Bill Gates, so he
and Lois could live comfortable secluded lives together.

"Lois?" He cried out. "Where the hell are you girl?"

For Guy Marshall this was facing the moment of truth head on. This was the
moment when wishful thinking likely takes one small step to nowhere while
accepted conventional wisdom takes one giant step towards reality.

The boy had nearly managed to convince himself that the amulet could have
magical powers and that his wish could actually come true

He peered out his window hoping to see pigs flying past; disappointed but not
surprised by the pig-less skies.

Guy had carefully crafted his words in a manner that left no room for
ambiguity. He had opted for short, clear, and concise; essentially wishing for
all of Superman's super-powers sans his allergy and vulnerability to
Kryptonite poisoning and any other substance that could be deleterious to his
health and rob him of his super-powers ... Further stating and promising that
he would adhere to and comply with Superman's solemn vow to uphold the tenants
contained in his motto ... Truth, Justice, and the American Way ... and yes,
he aspired to, whenever needed, substitute for Superman as the "Protector of
the Planet."

He clutched the stone in the palm of his hand squeezing as hard as he could
and waited and waited; hoping for something to happen ... five minutes - ten
minutes - fifteen minutes passed and nothing happened.

He smiled to himself knowingly and laughed a sad disheartened laugh of bitter
disappointment.

In a display of utter frustration and a little anger Guy forcibly slammed his
foot down in disgust. He immediately stopped the downward thrust of his foot
but not before he was knee deep in the flooring immediately understanding that
he was now super.

The boy could feel unimaginable power surging through his enlarging body.

Almost instantaneously Guy Marshall was considerably taller than before (6'4)
heavier (240 lbs.) stronger (24" biceps) and happier, elated really.

In order to test his super-human strength, he moved to the kitchen and lifted
the refrigerator off the ground with both hands and began to squeeze the
appliance in earnest, compressing the 300-pound unit into a small rectangular
piece of junk the size of a 300 pound Rubik's cube. His next order of business
was to reach out to Amazon and purchase a replacement frig.

He raced to the bathroom, ripped off his now much too tight shirt, and flexed
his huge biceps which had reached superman proportions. When he dropped his
trousers, he gasped at the size of huge still flaccid penis. Now he knew for
certain he was indeed super and he immediately set out to prove it to himself.
He vigorously yanked, tucked, and jerked on his ever-expanding cock until he
spewed forth a massive load.

Sated and satisfied, he raced to his sister's bedroom and commandeered several
of her spandex outfits. He ripped them apart into useable pieces. Using a
skill he didn't know he possessed he sewed a multicolored superhero costume
from the stretchy spandex materials

He thought to himself ... this is awesome ... I'm awesome ... It was then and
there he dubbed himself .... Awesome Guy.

Guy fashioned a large "AG" that would stretch across his chest reminiscent of
the large red "S" on Superman's chest.

He willed himself to rise and float around the house. Testing his flying
skills, he flew out of the door and circled his home several times at
supersonic speed.

He had never had so much fun. The only thing that would have made this day
more perfect for him would be having his twin sister around to tease and
squeeze until 'Sweaty Betty' begged her big brother for his mercy. Oh well, at
least now he would no longer be subject to her torturous ways.

He was ready ... so damn ready ... but he knew not for what he was ready ...
but he knew he was ready. He slumped down in his favorite chair and switched
on the TV. He was reminded of an old French saying ... the more things changed
the more they stayed the same; plus ca change.

Awesome Guy mindlessly began watching an episode of TMZ escaping for the
moment into the world of celebrity nonsense replete with the obligatory panty
covered crotch shots.

He needed to determine who he should notify first; his mom (of course), his
twin sister (if he could reach her), someone at the Defense Department (to
offer his services) - and - and then ... then what ... Then who?

Guy began to tear up a little as he realized he had no real friends with whom
he could or should share the news of is extraordinary gift of superpowers.

TMZ was running exclusive video of Bruce Wayne (rumored to be Batman) and
Selina Kyle (rumored to be Catwoman) entering the lobby of the luxury Gotham
City Towers, a building that was home to numerous other celebrities.

Guy Marshall decided he would stealthily and clandestinely fly there, engage
the duo in witty repartee, reveal his superhero persona (Awesome Guy) and
explain that he now possessed super powers equal to or even greater than
Superman. He would ask if they could arrange a hook up with the man himself.

"What's you doin'?" Missy's knock had been cursory at best. "I saw you." She
had seen him flying around the house. She clapped her hands together. "Tell me
... HOW."

"Can you believe it?" He stood and flexed his 24" biceps ... I'm super ... I
mean super-fucking-super."

"Yeah. I can." She smiled and flexed her own over-sized biceps. "Given what's
happened to me and now you, I can and do believe almost anything."

When she asked him about the "AG" embossed across his chest he proudly stated
'Awesome Guy' ... He was happy when she didn't laugh at him.

They sat together on his couch discussing their current circumstances. They
discussed and weighed their options. She claimed to love his multicolored
makeshift superhero costume with the "AG" sewn on the chest. He revealed his
intention to offer his services to Superman assisting the man every way he
could.

Missy handed her friend a sealed enveloped addressed to Superman which was
clearing annotated with the words ... for your eyes only.

Lois wasn't answering her cell and a worried Superman briefly contemplated
flying around the city to search for her but then he remembered that those
days were long gone, likely forever gone ... He needed to familiarize himself
with the workings of Uber.

Within the hour Lois happily skipped back into Superman's bedroom, grinned
voraciously while lifting him off his feet. She engulfed him in her strong
arms and planted a loving kiss on his lips forcing her tongue into his mouth
while rubbing her rock-hard body against his.

'I have good news big guy." She made a mental note to stop referring to him as
big guy because in reality he was anything but. "You now officially exist."

She handed him a number of forms of Identification ... including a Social
Security Card, a passport, a driver's license, military discharge papers,
insurance forms, as well as every other form of ID imaginable. All of which
bore his new name ... Norman Alan Mann ... Norm Al Mann was now alive and
kicking.

Government computer gurus created and established an unassailable internet
identify for Norman Alan Mann. For all practicable purposes Norm was a
thirty-eight-year-old retired military man with a background with the
Intelligence Service; much of his time in the service was highly classified
making it easier to create his false identity.

The newest celebrity power couples, Bruce and Selina with Lois and Norm, were
gathered around a table in the large dining room. They were sipping on Dom
Perignon champagne while noshing on Petrescu Caviar with diced onions spread
on Blini (Russian Pancakes) along with strips of smoked salmon, warmed lemon
wedges, and deviled eggs along with mini-mounds of cr�me fraiche. Why the hell
not? No need to skimp, Bruce Wayne was obscenely rich and this was a
celebration of sorts.

"Let's make a promise to one another to do this every year on this date."
Selina was suggesting the four of them make this an annual event; a birthday
party of sorts.

There was a knock on the door and a security guard stood at the entrance
silently awaiting instructions.

"What is it Mr. Stockton?" Selina made it a point to know the names of the
apartment complex's personnel.

"I have a sealed envelope from a Missy Adams for Superman and we have a young
visitor here who wishes to speak with him."

"Okay, John. You may show him in." The security guard immediately acquiesced
and led the young man into Selina's suite announcing the young man by name.
"Guy Marshall, here to see Superman."

Guy couldn't contain himself; he literally flew across the room, hovered in
the air for a brief moment before he alit directly in front of the power
couple. He had hesitantly landed in front of Norm Al Mann, who he immediately
recognized as Superman, handed him the envelope, and retreated to the entrance
where for maximum affect he hovered a foot off the ground next to the security
guard, John Stockton, and awaited further instructions.

Normal Man read the note and informed everyone that Missy Adams had left town
wishing him the best of luck. She emotionally explained to him that two days
earlier she had been taken by government agents to a secure 'medical facility'
where she was examined by a team of doctors who poked and prodded her body for
hours on end.

They took blood, urine, and stool samples explaining to her that everything
they had done to her had been necessary to ensure National Security. They
scheduled additional tests for her next week.

In the letter she begged Superman to not look for her emphasizing her desire
and need for privacy.

"How?" The two power couples turned to the boy hovering off the ground all
asking the same question.

They had been expecting a long convoluted back story explaining the boy's
origins, his flying ability, his muscle growth, his aspirations and his goals.
None of the four were unhappy at the brevity of his explanation.

"I made a wish."

Guy Marshall related his improbable story to the power couples ... The arrival
in the mail of the talisman in the form of a stone, the promise of a life
altering experience, the promise of a wish fulfilment, he had wished for
Superman like super-powers and voila Awesome Guy came into existence.

"The stone disintegrated in my hand its essence absorbed into my body, leaving
not a trace." He had taken it upon himself to answer the unasked question.

Early the next morning Archie along with Normal Man met with high-ranking
officials from most every one of the Government alphabet offices ... DOS, CIA,
DOD, DEA, ATF, DOJ, DHS, FBI, NSA, et al. Interestingly enough, each of the
government representatives was wearing a hat identifying the agency they
represented.

Awesome Guy was subjected to every test imaginable ... His display of
unworldly power and strength wowed the testers and the onlookers. He lifted a
several ton tank over his head using but one hand holding in the air for a
full minute. He bent enormous steel pipes and tied them in knots. He crushed
heavily reinforced army jeeps into unrecognizable pieces of junk. In addition,
Guy was subjected to extreme heat (they set him on fire) and to sub-zero
environments. In the end Awesome Man withstood every one of the indignities
foisted upon.

Finally, using only his bare chest as a quasi-shield Awesome Guy stopped a
number of rockets being fired at him from, what else, a rocket launcher. The
impact with his invulnerable body left the head of the shells blunted and
flattened.

Eventually the alphabet people were convinced that the good old U.S.A had
another Superman on whom they could depend.

For the next several days those same alphabet people and their underlings
alerted their allies, neutral and adversarial nations that Superman was
retiring from public life, alerting each and every one of 195 independent
sovereign nations in the world that a Superhero named Awesome Guy would be
taking his place as the U.S. enforcer and the Protector of the Planet ...
Promising that nothing would change, warning dire consequence should any
nation deviate from previously negotiated non-aggression pacts and treaties.

State Department officials explained to both allies and advisories alike that
Awesome Guy was physically every bit the equal to Superman. However, he was
young, inexperienced and impulsive and would likely take punitive action more
quickly than Superman may have ... A not so veiled threat.

Betty had been spending an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom when her
handlers became concerned. They urgently knocked on the door getting no
response. Using a pass-key, the bodyguards and the attendees entered the
restroom together only to be greeted by a whirlwind of flying female fists and
elbows and lethal feet as well as two quick well-practiced chokeholds.

Before leaving the room Betty Jean surveyed her surroundings and smiled.
Seeing the six incapacitated agents strewn all about the room excited her.

She headed to the U.N. building to witness the retirement of Superman where
she suspected she would be even more excited.

The United Nations General Assembly members were gathered together at U.N.
Headquarters in New York City. The event, the retirement of Superman, was
being televised world-wide, shown on every platform imaginable. Nonetheless,
thousands and thousands of New Yorkers were gathered outside the U.N. Building
anxious to watch the historical event on the recently installed Jumbotrons.

The retirement of Superman and the introduction of his replacement Awesome Guy
was worldwide news and 'must see' viewing.

After a number of pre-recorded Superman tribute videos voiced by world
leaders; Kings and Queens, Prime Ministers, several presidents, including the
U.S. president who made a lame joke proclaiming there's a new Sheriff in town
named Marshall.

Superman himself spoke briefly, limiting his remarks to giving thanks to the
world for affording him the honor of serving them for so many years before
introducing Awesome Guy to the world as the new 'Protector of Planet.'

"I call bullshit!" A forceful booming female voice sounded from the balcony
and echoed throughout the hall. "Was there an election I missed?"

"Why him?" Silence filled the hall, everyone searching out the speaker.

Heavily armed U.N. Security personnel protectively encircled the dignitaries
on the stage. All eyes in the hall were focused on the balcony area, searching
for the audacious female with the booming voice.

"Here I am."

Simply by virtue of her intimidating size, she stood out from the folks around
her. At first glance the scantily clad female appeared to be approximately
six-feet-six-inches tall and extremely well-built, extremely well-built didn't
do her physique justice.

The impressive girl placed one hand on the balcony rail and casually vaulted
over the metal bar ostensibly preparing herself to fall forty-five-feet or
more to the floor of the hall.

Both Guy and Superman's initial impulse was to fly to her rescue. Awesome Guy
hesitated too long and Superman was no longer capable. So instead, together
they watched the woman defying gravity by hovering in the air; displaying her
impressively muscled arms to the crowd while waving to everyone.

She floated above the masses showing off her ability to fly. She displayed her
remarkable overly muscled body with obvious pride.

She was wearing a Metropolis Mets baseball cap and cut-off jeans that
displayed her well-muscled diamond-shaped calves and her massive thighs. She
proudly wore a clinging sleeveless halter top that accentuated her densely
slabbed eight-pack abs, her gravity defying 44" DD breasts, and her
cartoonishly large 46" biceps.

"Hi there." She had allowed herself to land on the stage directly in front of
Awesome Guy who was staring at her with a combination of awe and trepidation,
his eyes focused on the letters embossed on each of her breasts.

"What's the 'NG' stand for?" He really didn't care but he couldn't think of
anything else to say or ask.

"The 'NG' stands for Nice Girl, that's me." She disdainfully smirked. "A young
man I know suggested I try being a nice girl."

She flexed her pecs causing her boobs to expand and bounce sexily. Her
spectacular breasts spilled out the top of her over-matched halter-top
mesmerizing Awesome Guy.

"Pretty nice huh?"

Awesome Guy was speechless. He was every bit as over-matched as Nice Girl's
halter-top had been when trying to contain her massive breasts. She removed
her baseball cap allowing her well-coiffed strawberry blonde hair to cascade
down engulfing her pretty face.

When Awesome Guy's eyes finally rose above her cleavage he was awestruck by
her beautiful face, a familiar face ... It was the face of his now much bigger
more muscular contemptuously sneering twin sister.

"Happy to see me, bro?" She couldn't resist a playful wink.

The night Betty Jean snuck into her brother's room and read the literature
pertaining to the supposed talisman she memorized the address of the company
and purchased a stone for herself, just in case. Betty had always been
pragmatic and on the outside chance the stone might be for real ... she wanted
in.

The moment she came into possession of her stone she began to theorize what
her brother might wish for ... She had read his notes and was assured he would
wish for something that would make him stronger than her ... She assumed her
brother would likely wish for considerably more than just that.

Postulating that her wimpy brother would likely wish for super-powers akin to
those of Superman and se couldn't abide that. She couldn't live in a world
where her spastic brother was her physical superior able to lord his power
over her. Accordingly, Betty Jean decided to wish for more, much more.

"Guy, this must be so incredibly difficult for you." Nice Girl lowered her
booming voice to little more than a whisper so that only her brother could
hear.

"A moment ago, you thought yourself to be the most powerful human on the
planet and now ... well now ... not so much ... right?"

"Surprise." She flexed her biceps displaying power well beyond human
comprehension. "You're not the strongest ... I am ... and it's not even
close." As if to prove her point she again flexed her peaked biceps

"I know this how, you ask." She laughed a confident laugh.

"I know this because ... Whatever you wished for ... I demanded the same but
ten-fold; which means I am ten times stronger than you and if you know what's
good for you, you won't ever test me."

"Yes Guy, I knew all about your wish."

Guy Marshall's mind reeled. He knew he should say something ... but what? All
the boy could think of was ... Mommy.

"And as for you Superman, you can relax. I no longer have the need nor the
desire to kill you or even humble you." With a wave Nice Girl dismissed him as
if he were a lowly cockroach or simply a normal man.

"Lois Lane, right? Betty Jean Marshall condescendingly smiled at her. "You can
pretend to be the protector of the former protector of the planet if that's
what floats your both, but you and I both know that Nice Girl is large and in
charge."

She embraced her brother in one of her all too familiar hugs squeezing just
hard enough to cause her tearing brother some real damage to his ribs while
simultaneously denying him the ability to breath normally.

She clasped his right hand in hers and lifted their intwined hands into the
air ostensibly signifying to the world the existence of an unbreakable
partnership, a gesture that thrilled the cheering crowd.

To the onlooking world-wide audience it seemed as if the Man of Steel was
being replaced by two powerful Superheroes; Nice Girl and Awesome Guy.
However, Guy Marshall knew better. He understood that his sister, was still
considerably stronger than he which meant that his tormented life would
continue unabated.

He realized that although he still possessed all of the powers of Superman, he
also understood that he would always be vastly inferior to 'Nice Girl'. She
would continue to tease and torture him whenever she pleased.

He hoped and prayed she would allow him to combat crime. He hoped she would
allow him some dignity and limit her teasing to non-public occasions but he
knew better and sensed that public humiliation was in his near future.

He realized that nothing had really changed for him except now he would be
subjugated to the whims of Nice Girl instead of those of his vengeful sister;
a difference without a distinction.

"Tell me a joke." She demanded

"Okay, let me think on it." His mind was a blank. The rolodex of jokes for all
occasions had gone blank. And he knew why. If he didn't deliver a joke of her
liking, one that made her laugh, 'Nice Girl" would likely show the world her
true colors and embarrass him in front of the whole damn world.

"An old woman walked into a dentist's office and removed all of her clothes
and spread her legs. Taken a back the dentist said I think you have the wrong
room. No, I don't. Last week you put in my husband's teeth. She continued.
"Now you need to take them out."

He anxiously awaited her reaction grateful for the slightest hint of a smile.

to be continued ...???

Submissive Subservient Superman ... by the Elder Barry ... 18,250 words -
mostly different.