ANYTHING
by Mark Newman and Steve the Z
An email contains a computer program that promises ANYTHING.  Godsend or Spam? Virus, Trojan, or something even worse?


I had just returned from work at my computer lab and settled down to watch the
sports highlights when my wife called out, "Steve, come here and look at this
funny e-mail I got on my Gmail."

No matter how many times I corrected her, Linda always called her personal
email account her "Gmail." I got up from the couch and walked into our tiny
second bedroom, where Linda's computer was set up on a small table in the
corner. Behind her web browser I could see that although she still had her
events planning schedule open from her business, "Little Events", she was also
logged in to her Facebook account and several of her usual shopping sites. She
clearly had decided her workday was over too.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Just read it," she said, pointing at the screen.

I looked over her shoulder and read aloud. "Free sample of new "ANYTHING"
program. This sample valied only for recipent 24 hors from first use." There
was a blank textbox under this sentence with the cursor blinking in the upper
left corner. Below the box was written: 'Type ANYTHING in the box, press ENTER
and ANYTHING will be true! Have fun! You desrve it! Have a grate day!!'

"Hmm," I grunted. "Based on the bad spelling and the exclamation points it
must be some kind of joke or spam, or, even worse, a virus or trojan."

"You're probably right," Linda said. "But it's kind of different, I'll give
'em that. I figure, I've got my anti-virus on and it's up to date, so I'm
gonna try it. Let's see, what should I type?"

"You're not actually going to do it, are you?" I asked, amazed at her naivet'.
I looked at it more closely. "You do realize that even if it doesn't crash
your computer, anything you write will go through the internet to someone you
don't even know. Even if it's not a virus, they'll get personal information
about you."

"So what? It's not like I'm going tell them some private, secret wish!" she
said. "I'll type some nonsense and hit ENTER. If you're right, and I guess you
probably are, nothing will happen, and then I'll delete it and make us some
dinner."

"Now that sounds better! Well, it's your PC and your time," I said. "Though it
is my hunger," I added.

"Then you should go and start making the salad," Linda suggested as her
fingers pecked away at the keyboard. More interested in what she would type
than in peeling carrots, I stood over her right shoulder and watched.

'I can speak French' she wrote.

"That's good, since you can barely speak English," I quipped.

"Very funny, big guy," Linda said, as her pinkie got ready to push the ENTER
key. "But that's not true. You know I speak very --"

I jumped, because right after she hit the ENTER key a large blue spark jumped
from her computer and enveloped Linda's hand. It crawled up her arm to her
mouth and then disappeared.

"What the hell was that!" I yelped. "Are you ok?"

"Je ne sais pas ce que c'est-#-dire, mais je me sens bien." Linda said.

"Huh!?" I said. "What did you say!?"

"I said I feel fine," she said. "But I don't know what that light was, and I -
oh mon dieu! - I can speak French! Ceci est incroyable!"

"I don't believe this!" I said, shaking my head, "It's impossible!"

"Mais c'est! I mean, but there it is!" Linda said. "It feels like I've been
speaking French my whole life! Le programme fonctionne vraiment!!"

"What did you say?" I said, "You know I don't speak any foreign languages.
Speak English, for Christ's sake!"

"Oh, je suis d'sol'. I mean, I'm sorry! French seems so natural I don't even
notice I'm speaking it! I said, 'the program really works!'"

"That's impossible," I said, starting to pace the room. "There has to be
another explanation. You must have had a French babysitter and you've just now
remembered what she taught you. Type something else."

"Comme que?" Linda said.

I just looked at her.

"Oh, there I go again! Sorry," she said. "What should I type?"

"Uh, something impossible, completely impossible, not like French!" I said,
somewhat desperately. "That'll show this was some kind of fluke."

Linda drummed her fingers on the desktop a moment, thinking.

"Ok," she said. "I've got it. Here goes. I'll say, 'I have the longest,
sexiest legs of any woman on Earth,'"

I snorted. Linda was cute and had a great figure but she was barely five feet
tall. At six feet, one inch, I was more than a head taller than her. She had
certainly found something to prove this was all a joke, all right!

She hit ENTER, and that big fat blue spark enveloped her hand again and this
time travelled down her legs to the floor. Even though I had seen it before I
still jumped, and then I jumped again, because a thudding sound had shortly
followed the spark.

"That again! You're gonna get electrocuted!" I said. "Umm, but what was that
second thump?"

"You won't believe me when I tell you," Linda said, a strange look on her
face.

I moaned, just a little, and said as my heart rose to my throat, "Tell me
anyway."

"It was my knees hitting the table," she said, rubbing her leg and starting to
smile.

"No - no, I refuse to believe it," I said, backing away a couple of steps as
Linda pushed her chair back.

I was in such a state of shock that I couldn't move any further, and I moaned
even louder when she stood up. She was so tall, six and a half feet or more,
and now she was dressed to kill! The program had also changed her old faded
blue jeans into extremely tight "short-shorts" that covered little more than
her panties and revealed all of the sexy legs that reached nearly up to my
chest and must have been well over four feet long.

Linda was smiling and stepped over to stand in front of me, covering the
distance I had travelled in several short steps in one long sexy stride of her
tanned, absolutely gorgeous legs.

"So how do you explain THIS one -- shorty?" she asked, looking down at me for
the first time. She was so tall! I tilted my head up moved up to look into her
eyes, and then moved by eyes downwards, drawn by curiosity about her longer
legs. And then all I could do was look at them, up and down, and up and down,
with wonder and admiration, desire, irresistible desire and ... fear.

How could she BE so tall! What else could happen?! My mouth opened, but I
couldn't speak. In my head I kept telling myself, 'I don't believe this.
Things like this just don't happen!' even though it was as clear as could be
that my 'vertically challenged' wife was now more than half a head taller then
I was!

The closer she came to me, the more confused I became. I couldn't make my
mouth work. I couldn't handle this. "Ch-change yourself back...." I managed to
whisper.

"What?" she said, cupping her ear and bending down a little. "You'll have to
speak up, Steve, I can't hear you from way up here!"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Change yourself back," I said, in a
croaky, trembling voice.

"Why?" she said. "Don't you like my legs like this? Here, feel them."

She took my hand in hers and placed it on her thigh. I gasped. The feel was an
electric-like jolt of pleasure to my core.

"You like?" she asked.

"Your skin is like silk!" I said, my hand running across her satiny thigh. "My
god, your legs are so sexy!"

"I FEEL sexy too!" she said, taking my hand and pulling it slowly upwards.
"And feel these curves and how firm they are. And I just love the way they
look in these little shorts! I want to show these legs off!" She leaned close
and whispered in my ear. "And just think how they'll feel draped across your
shoulders in bed tonight."

"I - I have to sit down," I said, my own legs suddenly all rubbery.

Linda helped me to a chair, where I sat down heavily, making her seem even
taller. "I'm sorry," I said. "My brain can't take all this. I'm a rational,
logical person. I don't believe in magic or New Age religions or homeopathy;
this whole thing is killing me!"

"Who says it's magic?" Linda said, pulling her chair close to mine and sitting
down to face me, crossing her marvellous legs. "Maybe it's an experimental new
technology. Maybe an alien race has infected the Internet. Or maybe it's part
of a reality TV game or something like that!"

"Yeah," I said, a bit doubtfully. "Maybe..."

"I like the idea that it's a game. I want to keep playing," Linda said.

"What! What do you mean?"

"This is fun! I want to do more with ANYTHING."

"No, Linda, don't! It's too dangerous. The program is too powerful. You could
do anything! You don't know what forces you're playing with! I'm worried it's
all going to go to your head."

"Oh dear! That would be awful, to have all this power going to my pretty
little head!" she said. "Moo ha ha!" she said, laughing, making her high,
feminine voice as deep as she could. Despite her new commanding height her
voice wasn't very deep at all, and she merely croaked and then coughed a bit.

I put my hand on her arm. "Linda, I know you think this is funny, but please
stop kidding around. I mean it! I'm scared. I won't let you go on with it!
I'll ...!"

She looked down at me with an odd expression. "Why, Steven Little! I've never
heard you sound like this; it's almost as though you don't trust me."

"It's not that at all. It's just that, um, er ...."

"What?" she said, standing up and putting her hand on her hip. I hadn't
noticed it before, but along with her sexier legs her hips had become wider
too. Her suddenly voluptuous figure was having quite an effect on me. I didn't
want to admit it.

"Well?" she said.

I didn't know what to say. I had always been the superior one in the
relationship in every way that mattered. I was older, more experienced,
taller, stronger, had a better job with much higher income, and, most
obviously, I was the man. But saying so would have sounded sexist, or
bragging, or worse, so I kept quiet.

Meanwhile, she looked me over carefully, as if trying to read my mind,
something she was disturbingly good at doing. She frowned and pursed her lips
and then took a deep breath, expanding her now very powerful chest, which
caught, and held, my eyes. I couldn't help myself; she had become that sexy. I
looked up at her but her chest pulled my eyes back down. That made her laugh,
an unusually quiet and slow laugh, for her. "Wellll... hmmm.... Ummm, ok! I
guess I was just joking. Sweetheart, if it really upsets you so much then I'll
delete the email!"

My eyes widened with joy. "Oh, thank you! Thank you, Linda!" I said. I stood
up and hugged her tightly, disconcerted by the sensation of my head resting on
her shoulder, but relieved the ANYTHING adventure would stop right here.
"Thank you so much, Linda! I don't think I could have taken any more of these
changes!"

"Yeah, well just don't expect me to undo what I've already done. I AM keeping
everything I've got," she said, putting her hands on her hips and giving me a
stern look from her lofty height.

What a difference those legs made! Her statement sounded so authoritative and
unchallengeable when uttered from half a foot above me, and the sight of those
sexy thighs attached to her mile long legs froze my vocal cords again. I just
nodded. I supposed I could get used to THIS one change! How could I complain
about having a wife who looked like this?

"Good," she said. "As long as that's understood." She went over to her
computer and started typing. "Vous #tes donc facilement dupes, mon peu man,"
she muttered. "Mais je vous aime."

"What was that you said?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing for you to worry YOUR pretty little head about," she said,
raising her long leg nearly horizontally. She raised it and lowered it like a
ballet dancer, extending her foot, rotating it, making her muscles dance, and
my eyes followed it as if they were under her control while saying, "That's
right. Nothing at all, darling. Rien. Je ne regrette rien."

I stared at it while she was typing, marvelling at its length, the curves of
her thigh and calf, her smooth, silky skin, even the perfection of the toes on
her feet. It took me more than a minute to overcome my distraction and come to
the realization that closing the program and deleting an e-mail couldn't
possibly take that long, even for a non-computer whiz like Linda.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I said, quickly getting up and hurrying over to her
side.

"Nothing evil, just making sure you won't interfere with ANYTHING,
Sweetheart." Linda said matter-of-factly, her finger resting on the ENTER key.

I looked at her, then wrenched my gaze to the screen. She hadn't deleted
anything! Instead, she had typed a whole paragraph into the ANYTHING box.

I read what she had written with horror:

'The free sample ANYTHING program is mine, and I'm the only one who can enter
text into it. Nothing Steve or anyone else does can stop me from using it or
can affect the program or even my computer unless I want it to.'

"NO!" I yelled, my hand quickly reaching out to the power button on the tower
to turn her computer off before she could execute the program.

But Linda had obviously thought ahead and was guarding it. She blocked my
finger with her left hand before I could hit the button. Even though I was
much stronger than she and easily pushed her hand away, before I could reach
for the button again she had pressed the ENTER key.

Again, the blue spark erupted. This time it went to me, and I found my hand
and then the rest of me being pushed away from the table as if a large, soft,
but ultimately irresistible pillow was forcing me back. When I was about two
feet away, the force disappeared. I reached forward again, but the spongy yet
invisible and impenetrable wall stood between me and the little table where
Linda's computer sat. There was nothing I could do, and the cursor blinked
insolently, waiting for her to make her next request.

"That's interesting," Linda said, watching as I repeatedly tried and failed to
move towards her and the desk. "Kinda cool, too!" I put both hands against the
unseen barrier and pushed as hard as I could. I managed to move about a foot
closer before the resistance was too much for me and, exhausted, I had to give
up, defeated. Linda shoved her chair back and stood up. She looked down at me
and put her hands on her hips. "I'm not mad at you, Steve. Really, I
understand how you feel; you like things the way you are and you don't want
them to change. But you have to understand me too; this isn't something I
could give up. Don't you understand what this means? For one day, I can wish
for -- and get -- ANYTHING! How could I not take this opportunity to get what
I -- what WE -- want. This can totally transform our lives. I mean, what would
you do if you were me?"

"I -- I don't know, Linda. I'm honestly scared to change things that much. You
know how these things always turn out in the movies. There are always
consequences, unanticipated consequences. I like our lives the way they are.
Why risk all of that?"

"Oh, Steve! You are being much too conservative, far too cautious! Look at us,
Steve. We rent an old, two bedroom house on a busy street. We haven't had kids
because we need my second income to pay the mortgage, at least until your
ultra-dense hard drive invention comes through for us. Think about what we
could do now, thanks to this! We can have ANYTHING we want! We can BE ANYTHING
we want. Use your imagination! We should be careful, sure. But this could be
so incredible, so fantastic for BOTH of us. We have to try!!"

I shook my head. "I don't like it. Haven't you read all those books about what
happens when you make deals with the Devil?"

"You mean Dr. Faustus? Hey, who was the English major here?"

"You were, but it didn't come out well, right?"

"Well, not in Marlowe's version, but Faust won out in the end in Goethe's.
But, hey, Steve, I haven't sold my soul, right? Did you see me sign anything?"

"Um, er, no," I said, thinking a second too late about the possibility of a
'click-through agreement' she might have electronically accepted. But I didn't
see anything.

"Ok then. So, what's the problem? Let's do this together. You tell me, what
are your ideas for using the program? What do YOU want?"

My mind whirled. Sure, I had ideas, plenty of ideas, actually, all sorts of
ideas, but the more I thought of them, the less I wanted to tell her what they
were. I hated the fact that she would be the one who carried them out.
Anything I suggested she could change to something slightly different, to what
she wanted, and there would be nothing I could say about it, which frankly
scared me. I didn't want to admit it, but it was all about giving her the
ability to change the balance of power between us. The better my idea, the
worse it could be, for me that is. I knew it, and she probably knew it too. It
was the elephant in the room, and she was riding that elephant. That was the
real reason I wanted her to stop. I didn't want to give her any ideas.

Instead, I struggled desperately to find some way, any way, to distract her.
"I guess we could ... ask for world peace? An end to global warming?" I
suggested.

She smiled. "Why, those are very noble causes, Steve, not your usual interests
at all. But come on, really, you know as well as I do that's not what this is
all about. Come on, tell me, if you could have anything, what would you want?
'Cause I can do it now, for the next day at least, as easily as snapping my
fingers! Come on, tell me. I want to know!"

My tactic was failing. She was too smart, and she knew me too well. "I told
you," I insisted, trying to appeal to her liberalism, her conscience. "How can
you argue with world peace and --

Linda frowned. "No, no, no! That's not the kind of thing I'm talking about,
and you know it! What's wrong with you? You're not being honest with me.
Steve, didn't you ever dream of getting Aladdin's Lamp? This is even better!
We can have as many wishes as I can type up in a day! I want us do something
for ourselves, to make our lives exactly like we want them! There's plenty of
time to take care of world peace later, but let's take care of ourselves
first."

I shrugged, afraid to say anything more, and that only seemed to make her
angry. She had always had a quick temper, but when she was a foot smaller than
me I always thought, and said, she was cute when she got mad. Now, to be
honest, I felt a little frightened. She was bigger than me and, more
importantly, she had all of the power from that program. There was nothing I
could do to stop her from doing ANYTHING she wanted.

She crossed her arms across her chest. "You act like you're joking, but I know
it's just a defense. The thing is, you never really tell me the whole truth
when I ask what you're thinking, do you? That always bothers me. But now, oh,
now I know just how to change things!" She sat down and started typing:

'Steve will tell me everything he would want to do if he was the one who
controlled the ANYTHING program.'

"Linda! No! That's not fair!" I complained as she hit the ENTER key. The blue
spark erupted and engulfed me. It didn't hurt, but to my horror I couldn't
stop myself from blabbing out not my ideas about using the program, but my
innermost 'wants'. It all came pouring out, totally beyond my control! "I'd
want to be the richest person in the world," I started. "I'd want Linda to
have even bigger tits than she has now. I'd want to make myself irresistible
to any girl I liked. I'd want to have bigger, harder, thicker ..." -- I tried
to clamp my hand over my mouth but I couldn't even do that!

"What?! Hey! That's enough!" Linda said, even angrier than before.

It was all coming out, and I couldn't stop myself. "... erections. I'd want
bigger, stronger muscles too, 'super' muscles, super-powers, so I was even
..."

"Shut up!" she shouted. "I can't believe this is you! I can't believe my own
husband is really talking like this!"

But I couldn't stop. I went on, "... more powerful than Superman, and you
would be so --

She was furious, and was typing furiously:

'Steve will shut up!'

She slammed down the ENTER key and, mercifully, I stopped before revealing the
next thing on my list of fantasies.

She stood up and glared down at me, looking down from her full, sexy height.
"Je ne peux pas le croire. J'ai pens' que je vous connaissais! I can't believe
this! I knew you didn't care about world peace, but I thought I knew you. I
thought you were different from other men, not some shallow phoney superficial
comic book-hero-loving girl-chasing greedy materialistic ... man! Vous #tes
ridicule, risible, une blague!"

I wanted to defend myself but I couldn't speak. I couldn't even make a sound.
I pointed to my mouth and shook my head. I held out my hands to her and tried
to approach her, but the barrier stopped me.

"You don't have ANYTHING to say for yourself, do you? I would think not! How
could you!"

She was so angry that not only her face but also her neck and shoulders had
turned red, and it seemed that steam would shortly be coming out of her ears.
She took a few deep breaths while glaring at me.

"Oooooh, you're horrible, you know that! Puerile, immature, selfish ...
horrible! " She shook her head. "But, hey, you're a man, right? This is what
men are all about, right? Just penis brains with muscles!! Oooooh, I should
have known that's all there was to you! But it's the dishonesty that I REALLY
hate! Well ... I'll show YOU what you get for lying to me!"

She sat down at the computer and started typing again, muttering to herself
while she did, "I'm just supposed to let him LIE to ME? ... bigger tits he
wants ... bigger erections ... bigger muscles ... super-rich ...
superpowers...." She turned around to look at me for a moment and ignored by
gesturing. "Men!" she muttered. "Liars! ... Show HIM what HE would have ...
HA! Vous dis-je, vous l'aurez. Vous aurez tout cela, exactement ce que vous
m'ritez!" She was working at it a long time, and I couldn't see what she was
writing. I couldn't get any closer, and her tall body was hiding the monitor.

I was mouthing the words 'can't talk' over and over again but her attention so
absorbed by her typing that she was completely oblivious to my predicament.
Finally she turned around to look at me again, her fingers poised on the ENTER
key to taunt me perhaps. Hoping she'd see, I waved my arms frantically and
opened my mouth, without a sound.

"Oh, you still can't talk," she said. "Did I do that? Ha ha. C'est si dr#le.
Bien! That's funny, especially with what I wrote. Yeah, you'll HAVE to talk
now! Okay." She turned around and started typing again and hit ENTER. The blue
spark shot out and enveloped both of us for an instant and then seemed to
spread out everywhere.

"Linda! Thank god! You have to understand, I wouldn't have done any of that
stuff, really. If you'd have asked me instead what I would have done --

She stood up and walked toward me, smirking. "Oh really? What WOULD you have
done then, huh? You'd better tell the truth this time and ALL the time from
now on!"

"I ... I don't know."

She was standing right next to me. Her long legs ended nearly at my chest. I
had to crane my head to look her in the eyes, which narrowed skeptically, but
twinkled. "Oh yes you do SO know! Even NOW you're not being honest, you liar.
You LITTLE liar!" she said with a small smile and put her hands on my
shoulders.

"Linda! How can you say that?" I protested. "You're not being fair." Her hands
felt so large, somehow, and I found myself looking up higher and higher to
hold my gaze on her eyes. "What's happening?" I asked, looking so high at her
that my back was bent, not only to see her face, but also so that I wasn't
bumping against her suddenly very, very, very full breasts. It was making me
feel dizzy. "You're growing!" I exclaimed.

"You're right. I am. I was thinking my legs were too long compared to the rest
of me. I wasn't going to make these wonderful legs any shorter, so I decided
I'll just make rest of me bigger, proportionately to my legs."

"But you were so tall already! You must be 7 feet tall now!!"

"Oh, I'm well OVER 7 feet, three inches over, in fact," she said breezily.
"But I don't think I'm too tall. No, not at all. Vous sentez-vous petit, mon
petit homme? I mean, do I make you feel small and insignificant now, my ...
darling?"

"N-no," I said hesitatingly.

"Your denial sounds so WEAK to me, menteur! Weak and a LIE!" she said with an
accusing smile. "Vous #tes tr#s, tr#s petit et tres, tres faible, par rapport
# moi!"

"I --" Her grip on my shoulders suddenly tightened and she lifted me into the
air so that my head was level with hers. "Hey! What are you doing?"

"N'est-il pas 'vident, mon mari peu b#te? I mean, isn't it obvious ...
darling? You looked so uncomfortable down there, looking up at me. I know very
well what that's like. Isn't it easier this way, so you can look me in the
eye?"

"You're holding me too tightly!" I moaned.

"I don't want you to fall," she answered, shifting her hands slightly and
raising me still higher.

"How can you -- my God!" I exclaimed, looking at the thick biceps on her arms.
As thick as they were, they bulged even larger when she flexed them for me,
repeatedly, showing off their size and the fact that she didn't even need to
tense them to support my 200 lbs.

"Oui, elles sont tr#s grandes, ne sont pas elles?" she said, smiling proudly
and flexing them even larger.

Even without knowing any French it was obvious what she was saying. "You said
you wanted to make the rest of your body proportional to your legs. But these
muscles -- my God, Linda! They're not 'proportional'! They're the largest
biceps I've ever seen!"

"I'm so glad you noticed. You see, I have the biggest AND the strongest
muscles of any man or woman on Earth!" she said. "I've always wanted to be
strong ... isn't that just what YOU wanted, darling? Beaucoup plus que vous,
mon petit home. It would have been so different if you had wanted BOTH of us
to change. You and I could have been the tallest, most powerful couple on the
planet, but, alas it wasn't to be. So, instead, I am the strong one, all by
myself. I can't complain. Go on, sweetie. Touch them. See what can happen when
you're willing to grow and change."

I reached out toward her right biceps. As my hand neared, she flexed and the
peak of her muscle shot higher and then higher still. My hand trembled as I
contemplated the strength my formerly petite wife now possessed. Not only
couldn't I fit my hand around her muscle, but my hand didn't even cover one
entire side of it. I pressed my fingers against it and felt the dense, hard
muscle beneath her soft skin.

"And yes, as you can feel, darling, my muscles aren't just big. My muscles are
all very, very strong. Beaucoup plus forte que la v#tre sont!"

"I-I can see that, yes." I agreed, not knowing what more I could say.

"So, Steve, NOTHING's bad about ANYTHING. ANYTHING isn't ANYTHING for you to
be afraid of," she chuckled while flexing her muscle even higher," so long as
you're not afraid of me."

I shook my head. "Don't you see how you're treating me already? You're
belittling me. You wouldn't let me speak before. You didn't even NOTICE what
was happening to me! This sort of thing always comes out badly. You have to
stop before it's too late!"

She transferred my body so that she was now supporting me with her forearm
down my back and her hand on my butt, as though I weighed no more than an
infant. "But Steve, why do you think ANYTHING is ANYTHING to be afraid of?"
she went on, waving her other hand freely and showing just how little of her
strength it took to hold me. "Just because I'm bigger and stronger than you
are, I would never hurt you, even if I were angry. Be honest. Am I acting like
power's gone to my head?" she asked, completely ignoring my very cogent
argument. She lifted me to her face and started kissing me. "Au contraire, I
think I'm being very sweet and quite adorable! Oui! Tr#s attrayant et tr#s
adorable!"

"Yes," I said, when she let up briefly on her kisses. "You are. Now," I said,
resenting slightly how easily and naturally she was taking the initiative.

"I mean, what's not to like? Don't you find me even sexier than before?" she
went on, pressing me to her large, firm bosom and holding me there with one
hand, while running her long fingers down my neck and my back, sending shivers
down my spine. She was handling me like I was some kind of play doll. "Feels
like one part of you at least is VERY happy about this change."

"Um, well, I guess, errr."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic. You said you wanted me to have bigger 'tits',
right? And now I do. They're so much more than a handful ... for you,' she
said, putting my hand on top of her huge breast. Her long fingers slipped
inside my open shirt and easily reached down below my waist. "Mmmm, what's
this? Isn't this what you wanted? Or is there something else you want?" she
continued. She was holding me closer so all I could see was her face. Even her
face seemed large compared to my own, and I started wondering whether she had
made her brain and even her mind and intelligence proportionately larger too,
or even more so. I began to panic.

"Nothing", I pleaded. "Nothing more!"

"Really? When you could have ANYTHING? Nothing more? Nothing more and nothing
less?"

"Please don't do ANYTHING! I don't WANT ANYTHING!" I protested.

"Oooh, but I know you do, you liar! You want me to go back to being smaller
and weaker, right? Not only that, you want me to be subservient and dependent
on you," she said, licking her lips with glee. "You POOR, little liar!"

I glanced down, and her short-shorts weren't denim anymore. They were leather,
luxuriously thick black leather, with a diamond-encrusted belt. Her formerly
bare arms had thin, elegant gold bracelets with five large diamonds embedded
in the front and back and her simple gold hoop earrings each had two of the
largest diamonds I had ever seen a third of the way down the front and back,
at four and eight o'clock. The room felt different. All the sound had deep
echoes. We weren't in our dining room. It was a library, a massive library,
with a triple height ceiling and skylight, richly furnished with elegant
oriental rugs, several computers with double-sized display monitors and rows
and rows of leather bound books. Where Linda's PC had been, there was an
enormous console, a super-computer that made the software development machines
I worked on seem like 1950's style adding machines. The keyboard had rows of
symbols I'd never seen before, and the display was so finely detailed, so
richly colored that it must have used a hundred times as much memory as mine.
In front was a huge chair, The ANYTHING program looked the same: a simple
white text box at the bottom of an email message, but with the lights flashing
along the base of the machine, it seemed that the computer was very busy with
other tasks as well.

"Linda ... what did you write?" I asked as she carried me around the room
marvelling at the furniture, the paintings by Picasso, Renoir, even Rembrandt!
"My god! What have you done! We must be so rich!"

"No, no, no!" she chuckled. "WE'RE not rich, my Little darling; I am. I know
how you didn't want ANYTHING, how you don't like change. But I like it." She
fingered my pants and wrinkled her nose. "I never liked those wool/polyester
blends but I guess that's all you can afford on your tiny pittance of a
salary."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"Just like you said. You like things the way they are. But I like to improve.
Like going from running a small events planning business where I make $10,000
in a good year, to being wealthier than the next hundred rich people in the
world, put together." She sighed and held out her free arm, which was even
more muscular than before, and was also now deeply tanned. "Ahhh, I like being
so strong and now so financially powerful too. The best equipment, the best
trainers and doctors too, the best nutrition and time for balanced exercise
and rest makes an enormous difference to my well-being and my happiness." She
ran her hand along my arm, her fingers touching my masculine, but far smaller
and less-toned biceps. "I know my darling doesn't have time for exercise like
I do, while he works on his very important research on ultra dense hard
drives. I know how he can't afford the specially tailored nutritional
supplements I take, since his pride won't let him use any of my money. And of
course, even though he's a man, and I'm just a girl, his genes just didn't let
him grow up to be as naturally big and strong and powerful as my extraordinary
one in a quadrillion genetic gifts. And, of course, I now that he didn't want
to do ANYTHING about it, when he could."

"Linda --

"Ultra dense hard drives," she went on, her fingers easily but gently
compressing my biceps and then placing my hand on her cantaloupe sized ones,
which expanded even further as she slowly flexed them, larger and larger.
"Aren't mine hard, darling? Your little fingers can't push them in at all, not
after you get past the layer of feminine softness I still have. My trainers
say they've never seen muscles so hard or so powerful. The doctors say they're
far denser than any other human tissue, several times as heavy, and far
stronger, inch for inch. And there's a lot of inches of muscle, right? And do
you know what my friends say? They all say these ultra dense, ultra hard
muscles are what inspire your work, mon enorme, dense, des muscles d'acier dur
inspirer votre travail. Is that right? Is this why you spend all your time at
the lab trying to create something ultra dense and powerful? Something as
ultra dense and powerful as me?"

"No ... Linda... please."

She shifted me against her body. I'm over six feet tall and in good shape, but
I felt small and helpless. She easily folded my body into a cradled position
so that it fit neatly within her broad shoulders. I was pressed around her
powerful, superbly endowed bosom and each time she breathed her muscles
expanded against me and curved my torso even more, raising my feet as they
brushed against her knees. Each casual movement of hers completely overpowered
me.

"You wanted to be rich, powerful and irresistible, didn't you, Steve? You
wanted me as nothing more than a big-titted, trophy wife, in between all the
others you'd have in your bed? Is that right?"

"Linda, no! I would never!"

"You even wanted to be like Superman!" she laughed, and tilted her arm so that
I slid to the floor and I had to look up to her. She looked magnificent, her
tight, minimal clothing emphasizing the intimidating power and size of her
body. "Like a comic book character! YOU wanted to be super-strong, invincible,
with powers 'far beyond those of mortal men' -- so YOU could do whatever you
wanted, beyond the power of anyone to stop you? Instead, you get to feel MY
strength. MY power!"

"Linda, you know me! That Superman stuff, all that stuff, it was just a
fantasy!" She looked down at me; her eyes seemed to bore right through me into
my brain, perhaps my very soul. "Linda, you've got to believe me!" I insisted.
She looked unconvinced, but she didn't turn away. "I would never have done
it." She rolled her eyes in disbelief but didn't contradict me. "Come on!
Don't you know me? I didn't even really want that!"

"You didn't even WANT it?!" She grinned. "Awww, I was just waiting to hear you
say that. And now you've done it ... liar! You didn't even want it! Oh,
really! Is that really so? Knowing you as I do now, I can't believe that you
or ANY man could honestly say that," she said sarcastically and smiled.
"Maintenant, regardez ce qui se pass'. Now, just watch this, you poor little
helpless liar!"

As she said the last word, there was a whooshing sound, and a blue-red blur
crossed the room and materialized into ... Superman? I couldn't believe it. I
stared at him. At first he seemed like a carbon copy of Christopher Reeve when
he was alive and healthy, his arms crossed in front of his impressive chest,
his dark hair perfectly in place and a scowl on his face, but the intensity of
his power, the presence of his masculine, no, his super-masculine, dominating
presence and virility made my heart pound in fear. His sudden appearance felt
completely different from the benign screen and comic book figure I had grown
up with.

"This mischief has gone too far. It stops here. It stops now!" he said in a
commanding voice that filled the massive room and echoed through Linda's
mansion.

Linda laughed in a condescending, dismissive tone I had never heard from her
lips before, as though she had become an arch-villain. "Superman, YOU can't
stop ANYTHING!" she said, her hands on her hips. She was looking down at him
with a superior attitude. She was so much taller and more muscular than he,
but of course, he was SUPERMAN.

"Only a foolish girl would test ME!" he growled threateningly. The windows
vibrated with the deep power of his voice. His eyes flashed with anger and his
super-muscles tensed as though he was resisting the urge to assault her, but
just barely.

"Don't fool yourself. This isn't a test. This is the real thing," she replied
hotly. "C'est simplement r'alit', comme v'ritable comme il peut #tre"

Superman's face reddened. I had never imagined Superman as a real man, much
less as one with a temper. This was going too far. Bravely, or, more likely,
fool-heartedly, I stepped between them. "Now, er, shouldn't the two of you
discuss this peacefully? Over coffee maybe. I'm sure Linda can get some
wonderful --

A brutal flick of two of Superman's fingers sent me flying in the air across
the room. I landed on a thick carpet and rolled to the wall. The power in
those two fingers could have killed me easily, but it was clear that he had
carefully applied it to hurt me just enough to impress me and warn Linda. I
was impressed enough to realize nothing I could do was going to stop him or
even affect him in the slightest. I saw a flash of concern on Linda's face,
before the haughty look reappeared. Was she still my Linda? Had the ANYTHING
program somehow changed her? Or was this all some kind of game she was putting
on?

Superman's eyes flashed and he fired a deep red beam of heat to destroy
Linda's enhanced computer. An invisible shield two feet away, just like the
force field that stopped me but vastly more powerful, absorbed the beam,
leaving the computer wholly unaffected. Obviously frustrated, he intensified
the beam of heat vision. Waves of heat filled the room and I crawled several
feet to crouch behind a chair to protect myself from its effects.

"Stop it!" Linda said. She was perspiring heavily. He ignored her. "I'm
warning you," she said more loudly. "You're going to make it worse for
yourself, a lot worse! Vous serez d'sol', tr#s tr#s d'sol'"

"I'm just starting," he replied. "So if you don't surrender that program and
--

"You're not starting ANYTHING. You're finished!" she replied, and walked
fearlessly through the beam to her computer, a temporarily larger version of
the shield appearing instantly to protect her access to it. She sat down at
the computer, typed into the program and hit ENTER. Immediately a blue spark
shot out at Superman's eyes and the onslaught of his heat vision abruptly
ceased.

Superman blinked rapidly and frowned. "Can't ... use my heat vision!" he
growled.

"Not if you use it to try to destroy ANYTHING that's mine!" Linda said
defiantly.

Superman flew at her and her computer, but although he had gotten closer than
I had, the same barrier that held me back also stymied the most powerful man
on earth. He strained to push through, using all of his incredible strength.

I stood up and moved closer to see what was happening.

"Must ... stop ... this!" he shouted. Blue sparks flew up from the computer,
apparently strengthening the barrier, pushing Superman further back, but he
kept trying. Little by little he seemed to be getting closer until a new
series of sparks pushed him away again. He still could not touch Linda or the
computer. Finally he gave up.

"You can't hide there forever. I know what you've done; no one has the right
to so much of the world's wealth. I'll start by returning your ill-gotten
gains to their rightful owners. And when your 24 hours expires I'll come back
for you. You're strong for a human, but you're no match for my Kryptonian
powers!"

"Don't you dare! You'll find I have every legal right to my wealth!" Linda
declared. "Taking it away from me would be theft! Is Superman a thief?"

"Your legal niceties mean nothing to me. I stand for Justice and Truth, not
what the false manipulations of a computer program may lead others to
believe!" he declared. "I will make sure Justice is done and the Truth is
known!"

"Your Justice and Truth isn't ANYTHING!" Linda replied.

"Now Linda," I said, "I think Superman has a point ...."

She turned and looked at me in surprise. "Ohhh, are you taking his side
against me? Just you wait, Steven Little!" She started typing furiously on the
computer, much faster than I'd ever seen her type before. I watched, while
Superman hammered at the barrier with his fists, his incredible power having
no discernible effect.

A large monitor on the wall was showing her work, a simple table with three
columns, the left headed by the word "Name" and then listing various
characteristics, such as strength, speed, fitness, injury resistance, visual
acuity, sight at a distance, etc. It didn't take much intelligence to realise
that the list matched Superman's powers. The unit of measurement was an SL,
defined as equivalent to one Steven Little. The camera mounted on the computer
desk scanned each of us, and numbers began appearing on the table. It was
disconcerting to see that my wife's strength was now equal to 5 SL's, or five
times my own, and her fitness was 8.5 times mine. The only characteristic
where Linda scored less than 1 SL (0.79) was in "sight at a distance", because
of near-sightedness. Superman, of course, was off the scale. In strength he
was 7.5 x 10 to the 19th power, in fitness 6.3 x 10 to the 35th power and in
speed he was 2.4 x 10 to the 89th power. I couldn't even comprehend such
superiority.

Superman glanced up at the monitor. A smile quickly crossed his lips and his
chest seemed to puff out slightly with pride in his power before he looked
back at Linda and her computer, considering his next attack. His confidence in
his ability to penetrate ANYTHING was complete.

Linda was smiling too. With a glance at Superman and a glare at me, she
highlighted Superman's name and moved it to the top of the other column, then
highlighted her own name and moved it to the top of Superman's. Superman
looked confused, but my mouth dropped as I realized what she was doing. The
wall monitor went blank and she began typing furiously, presumably further
editing the table. She looked at me and smirked. And then she pressed ENTER.

This time it wasn't a spark that shot out of Linda's souped-up super-computer.
It was a blinding, blue bolt of lightning that made my skin tingle and my hair
stand up. It completely engulfed Superman and Linda, while still touching the
computer, whose lights were flashing crazily. The blue of the spark was darker
than before, exactly matching the color of Superman's costume, but it turned
reddish over his shorts and in the back over his cape and had a fuzzy red-gold
diamond in the center. After several seconds the colors rose off him and
settled on Linda and when it lifted she was no longer wearing her elegant
sleeveless top or her sexy leather shorts. Instead, her shorts had been
replaced by a tiny, pleated red skirt, like Superman's red tights, but the
cloth was shiny, with gold trim and diamonds along the bottom edge. Her sexy
top was now a slender tube of sparkling sapphire blue that seemed molded to
the bottom half of her breasts, leaving her cleavage bare as well as her fully
muscled torso and waist. Over each breast was a golden and ruby red diamond
"S" emblem. On her back was a short cape of shimmering dark red as if flecked
with rubies.

I glanced over at Superman, and realized something was different about his
costume. Its fabric looked like cotton -- cheap, cotton pyjamas -- not the
indestructible Kryptonian fabric. He still looked like Superman, but a softer,
distinctly unintimidating version.

He pulled at his costume in confusion and seemed far less confident.
Meanwhile, although it hardly seemed possible, Linda stood even straighter and
more erect. Her muscles seemed sharper and harder, while her curves seemed, if
anything, even more perfect. She stood up and walked over to us, her tall,
powerful body slicing through the open space. Her skirt shimmered and swished
saucily and her arms swung boldly.

Superman shrank back from her but she took hold of him and he offered no
resistance as she lifted him into the air, far more roughly than she had
lifted me. He struggled briefly but was completely unable to resist her, and
soon hung limply in her grasp. My sweet, submissive, five foot tall wife, now
a sexy, muscular amazon with the strength to dominate even Superman, had taken
all of my stupid 'wants', and as I feared, had turned them ALL to her own
benefit!

"Is ANYTHING wrong?" Linda boomed. Her voice made every cell in my body
vibrate, made my extremities tingle, sent chills down my back and gave me such
an erection that there was instantly far too little room in the crotch of my
pants. Thanks to Superman's far thinner clothing, the effect on him was even
more obvious.

"What have you done to me?" he moaned.

"Me? Why do you think I'VE done ANYTHING?"

"Why I've ... I've lost my powers! You know that, you fiend! It ... it MUST be
you and that infernal program! There's no kryptonite around; what else could
it be?" he said. "I feel as weak as any normal man! As weak as HE is!" he
added, pointing at me.

"Awww, is that what you think?" She tossed him into the air, nearly up to the
cathedral ceiling, and then caught him in the palm of her hand. His body
shuddered painfully upon the impact. She flexed her massive muscle. "You're
absolutely right, compared to me now you're pathetically weak, perfectly
helpless, completely vulnerable and fully exposed," she said, looking, to his
embarrassment at the way one important part of his body protruded toward her.
"But you're not totally powerless. You have the kinds of powers any man, like
my husband, would want. Let's see. You're still very well hung, obviously, and
you're far harder and can last far longer than any normal man."

"That's not a superpower!" Superman complained.

"Mmmm, any girl would disagree!" Linda replied. "What else? Your X-ray vision
can see through a girl's dress, if it's thin enough, but only through one
layer, so you'll have to hope she's not wearing a camisole."

"I would NEVER --

"You do it all the time. You're a MAN, right?"

No longer able to control his physical reactions, he blushed deeply.

"At least you're honest. Not like him!" she added, looking disdainfully at me.
"And your 'telescopic vision' is still acute enough to read her bra size from
across the room. But no further. And obviously only from behind her, since you
can't see through anything as substantial as a female body. But that shouldn't
matter to you. Men don't really have any interest in the details of what goes
on inside a woman anyway."

He turned slightly green. "I ... can't take any ... more of ... this ...."

"You feel lighter all of a sudden. You're trying to fly away, but you can't.
You've lost that power, but you still DO have the power to reduce the effect
of gravity on your body by about 40%, which any woman will truly appreciate
when you're on top."

Superman blushed more deeply.

"I figured you were old-fashioned in bed. Super-speed isn't the most endearing
quality there, in case Lois hasn't told you, so you'll be moving more slowly
from now on. But don't worry. You're still the fastest MAN on earth. I'd guess
you could run the 100 meters in less than nine seconds.

"Nine seconds! The world's record by an ordinary human is about 9.5!"

"Usain Bolt is not an ordinary man, and unlike you he's in training. You'll
still be able to beat him ... if you don't overeat and you stay in shape. And
even if you can't run as fast, or fly, other parts of your body are still a
lot faster than any other man, especially your tongue. If you already don't
know, you can ask Lois what you can do with your tongue." Linda stuck her
tongue out and it danced suggestively in a circular motion.

"You ... you ...." Superman was so angry he was speechless. He glared at Linda
and pale pink beams shot out of his eyes directly at hers, although the beams
became invisible after several inches and left her completely unaffected.

She stared back at him. "You're being very aggressive with your 'warming
vision', Superman," she said more sharply, "but you don't intimidate me, not
any more. As you can see, warming vision isn't a weapon, not the way your heat
vision was, is it? It didn't hurt me in the slightest. It wouldn't even hurt
Steve. But I haven't left you powerless. You'll still come in handy around the
house, like for drying dishes, or to defrost meat when the microwave's broken,
or to warm up coffee. But don't try to cook with it or even try to make toast.
It would take a VERY long time. And as you can see it doesn't go very far,
maybe three feet before it dissipates into nothing more than a warm breeze.
Still, in intimate positions that kind of heat can be very, mmmmmmm,
stimulating."

"And my invulnerability ... my super-strength?" he croaked, not wanting to
hear her response.

"You WOULD ask about those! You think not feeling pain is a good thing?
Invulnerable, unfeeling men is exactly what we struggle with. A fly buzzed by
and landed on the back of Superman's hand. It tried to bite him, but grew
discouraged and flew away.

"Well, there it is, Superman. You're invulnerable to the bites of a housefly,
but you better keep out of the way of bullets if you want to survive. From now
on you'll feel our pain! Funny you haven't asked about your super-brain yet?
Does that power not interest you?"

"Of course it does!" He frowned and shook his head.

"The old computer isn't turbo-charged like before, is it? But you'll find that
you will still remember all those important details far better than most men,
like anniversaries, our favourite colours and flowers, where we like to eat,
even where to put things away. In fact, you'll find that you can't get out of
your head any little detail that a feminine voice tells you, just like a
catchy tune! A man who listens, and remembers is such a find!"

"And you did ask about your super-strength?" She looked at me. "Isn't THAT the
power that any man most wants? For what? So you can do manual labor? Open
jars? Lift heavy things? Carry us women over the threshold? Or keep us women
subservient and helpless?" She looked at me and then back at Superman. "You
think that's what makes you a man?"

"It's what makes me Superman!" he replied. "Maybe you, as a woman, don't
understand how important that kind of power is."

"You think that's power?" she said, mocking him. "Oh, you can be sure that any
woman knows what power is. We have to deal with that power hanging over us
every day of our lives. Protecting ourselves, propitiating you men! Why do you
think we love babies? Because they're cute? Because we like the pain of
childbirth? Because we like to work day and night? Guess again. It's the
power! I can tell you there's no feeling of power more complete than holding a
baby. A helpless infant dependent on my body even for food? A need for his
mother that no one else can satisfy? Now that's power! But I don't have any
babies. So what is a woman to do?" She looked at Superman, at me, and then
back at Superman again.

"I'm not your baby!" he declared.

"No you're not. And I already have a husband," she added looking at me.
"You're an arrogant, bossy, superior-acting man, just the sort I can't stand."

"Fine! I don't like you either," he said angrily, balling his hands into
fists.

"Well, then," she said and smiled. "Where does that leave us? What are you
going to do about it?" She took a few menacing steps toward him and expanded
her powerful chest. We were talking about your 'super-strength', weren't we?"
She picked up a metal chair and using just her thumb and forefinger twisted
the legs into a pretzel, and then folded the back of the chair into the seat.
She tossed it at Superman, who tried to bend it back, but couldn't pull the
metal even an inch. Even worse, the longer he held it, the thicker and heavier
the chair became, until he dropped it.

"Will you look at that! Not only aren't you strong enough to bend metal with
your bare hands, it seems that the more you used your muscles, the more
massive the chair became, making it harder and harder for you to even to hold
it!"

I stared at the slab of metal on the floor. I was sure I couldn't lift it off
the floor.

"I wonder what would happen if you had to use your 'super-strength' against a
person! Would they get thicker and heavier? Or maybe stronger too? Maybe it
would depend on if you were carrying them, or fighting them or even just
competing with them! You'll have to try, but wouldn't it be funny if your
super-strength was now completely super-self-defeating? If whatever you did
just became harder and harder the more you tried?"

"That's ... just ... perverse!" he cried out. "If what you're saying is true,
then any evildoer I battle will become stronger and even more dangerous!"

"Oooh, that super-brain must be kicking in. What's a super-hero to do!
Retire?"

"Anyway, what exactly do you expect to do with those puny, soft muscles?" She
took his arm and twisted it effortlessly. He struggled and was rewarded with
the sight of Linda's muscles growing even larger. "Mmmm. Thanks!" She pushed
him at me. "If the two of you wrestled, maybe my Steven would grow a little
muscle. But no, I insist you don't. My husband doesn't want to change, not
even a little."

Superman looked at me with disgust. He started to go into his flight stance,
but thought better of it and went to the door. As he pulled the handle it
became slightly thicker. He looked down at it, shuddered and quietly left.

"Look what you've done!" I shouted. "You've just destroyed Superman, the
world's greatest hero!"

"Don't be silly. He was NOTHING, just a comic book character, until ANYTHING
made him real! The world's no worse off than it ever was. Right?"

I stared up at her. She was right, of course.

The evening's events had completely thrown me. As astounding as all this was,
I was still in the real world, a world where, outside of the influence of the
ANYTHING program, Superman was an imaginary figure. Except that now my wife
was a super-rich, 7'3" amazon with super-powers. Not only that, but she still
had more than 22 hours to run the program. I shook my head. "Yes, you're
right, dear. You've been right all along."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and nodded, satisfied. "Well,
Steve, that's the first intelligent thing you've said since we started talking
about ANYTHING."

I swallowed. It was not only that my throat was dry. The thought of how
powerful Linda was now made me feel weak on my feet. "OK. I was wrong. Now you
have everything you want. Money, power. That's it, right?"

She laughed. "Ha ha. No! I haven't even STARTED. I have everything YOU wanted.
Every time you've lied to me I just executed one of YOUR wishes, for myself.
Except for being irresistible to girls. I don't go for girls, and ONE man is
MORE than enough for me! But I don't really care about any of that. What I
really wanted was to understand YOU better."

"Linda! But I would never have --"

She looked down at me sternly, with a completely superior expression. "Are you
SURE you want to finish that sentence? I shut you up before you had finished.
My 'super' memory tells me you were saying 'I would be so ....' So, what,
darling, what would I 'be'? Is that something that I might think is more
appropriate for YOU?" She sat down at the keyboard, fingers on the keys. "Do
you want to tell me? Should I try to guess or 'make' you tell me? Or shall I
get started on my OWN plans first? What do you think, darling?"

I stared at her, wide-eyed. What should I say?

"But ... darling, what about what I want? Doesn't that count for anything?

"What YOU want? So, NOW you're ready to tell me what you want?" She paused,
fingers ready at the keyboard. "I'm waiting ... darling ... I'm waiting and
ALL ready for ANYTHING."