Strength in Numbers: Pt 2 The Good Girl Ch 50
50. TALK SOFTLY ... AND CARRY A SUPER FAST SIX YEAR OLD
They had meant to get away early but got distracted.
Ned blamed the double bicep pose. Susie blamed his libido.
Jess was something of a reluctant traveller. Persuaded that she was a ‘key’ part of the Beaumont team, she contented herself in the back seat with a laptop and wireless transmission.
For a 15 hour drive with a six year old, a decision was made to spend the night in Wichita. It had some benefits.
Susie wasn’t convinced about the security of her phones – landline and mobile – and even her email. Ned supported her and the day before had purchased two pre paid cell phones: messages left on their normal numbers would be returned on their pre pays.
This they did to the Omaha police and Nebraska State Governor’s office.
At a ‘resort’ type motel outside of K.C., Susie met an FBI courier carrying a small envelope.
It contained a disc of the ‘supergirl’ and her latest efforts – this time recorded by the Feds who were watching the State cops not do a very good job of watching the anti-heroine from a distance.
Unhappy at being forced to relinquish the laptop – just as she anticipated an email from Clay – Jess left the motel with her father to search for a take-out while Susie studied the latest video offering.
Susie had to admit to surprise at the quality of the recording taking into account the camera was over half a mile from the scene. The ‘supergirl’ was no longer in her outfit and wore a tee and jeans; barefooted; no bling or watch or even bra. The tee was tight – of course – her massive arms on show; size obvious in her chest, lats and back, not so much in the traps or width of shoulders. Her quads gripped the jeans but otherwise were not unusual. It was the size of the arms that didn’t quite match. They just seemed so much bigger.
The location was a rural block, but not what would be called a farm. More a house set on a few acres with a water tank behind. No animals, implements or farm utilities. No sign of her own car or a second person. Just plain-clothed State Troopers in an unmarked Ford sedan: two of them and approaching middle age.
The video showed the massive girl walk from behind the house, see the surveillance vehicle about three hundred yards to her left and then ‘move’ toward it. Susie best described it as a ‘move’ because it occurred at lightning speed, beating the camera operator who arrived at the surveillance vehicle maybe a second after she did. She could be seen talking to the driver as the second trooper jumped from the car. The girl stood back and the driver jumped out, each door flung open, both men backing away from the vehicle.
The girl squatted and lifted the vehicle from the front, driver’s side corner. Her left hand under the grill, her right in front of the wheel rim. She lifted it up so that it was pointing above her at a 45 degree angle and, bending her legs, pushed her body forward as the car curled into the air, turned over and landed on its roof forty feet away.
Turning back to the stunned troopers, she gave a double bicep flex. Susie reckoned maybe 19 inches, maybe 20 at max. A good size; well out of proportion to the rest of her solid muscularity.
She walked toward a trooper, her hands on hips, looking to the eyes of the strong-woman, as though she was tensing her arms. The trooper, fearing the worst, turned and ran. In a blink she was in front of him; hands on hips, laughing. He ran off to the right. She seemed to hesitate then – blink – there she was again: in front of him; hands on hips; laughing.
The trooper tried it one more time. This time she let him run for ten seconds before catching up with him within one. He slumped to his knees.
While she ran around the first trooper; the other had scrambled to the upturned car to retrieve a shotgun. A wasted effort. The girl didn’t even give him a chance to aim it. She sped to the car, grabbed the gun – flinging the trooper to the ground – and snapped the barrel from the firing mechanism. As he tried he stand she pushed him on his back and then straddled his face with her knees either side of his shoulders with her ass on his chest. Susie’s instinct was to fear that his skull would be crushed, but his legs just kept kicking.
The other trooper, reinvigorated, must’ve held the same thought as Susie. He rushed at the girl, shaping a martial arts kick at her head. Again a wasted effort. She caught his leg and threw him to the ground. That hurt.
The girl concluded her face sitting and, standing, moved back to the car. With both hands she pushed it up onto its side then onto the wheels. Again she stood in her pose with hands on hips maybe even talking at the troopers who were trying to come to their senses. Susie wanted to know what was said. She grabbed the prepaid cell and pushed in a number. Giving a pre arranged call sign, she waited while she was put through to the Omaha State Commander.
The Commander couldn’t help her with details but would arrange for the troopers to be available the next morning. At most they were bruised and a little shaken but otherwise unharmed. Susie returned to the video. There was little else. The girl waved to the troopers and headed inside. They then drove back to town for a check up and debrief. In the end it was all harmless fun. Something she might’ve done herself as a fifteen year old.
Which made her wonder – again - just how old is this ‘supergirl’?
Susie reran the disc another two times. She paused and zoomed in the best she could as the girl lifted the hurled the car, then pushed it back on its wheels.
The effort did not seem ‘continuous’ – that is, performed in the one motion as would be the case by a McAdam woman. Each component of the car throw seemed to have its own elements of effort then rest then effort and rest again. Susie began to suspect that the girl was not all that strong. Sure it was all relative, she can lift and throw a three ton car twelve feet in the air for forty feet. Maybe she was five hundred times stronger than the average teenage girl – making her a true ‘super’ girl – still it was not in the league of Susie let alone Jess.
There was one more thing that Susie stumbled upon in her last look at the recording. Again, the zoom in and it was quite revealing. As the girl grabbed the shotgun in both hands to break it, she grimaced as if the effort of snapping the barrel from the firing mechanism taxed her strength. That seemed to suggest she was even weaker than the effort on the car as only a few tons of pressure would be needed on the gun. As there was only the rear shots of her with the car, it was impossible to compare with precision.
She could’ve been reading too much into it but the more she thought about it the more convinced she was that the girl would be no match for her strength.
Speed is something else.
“So what’d you guys get?”
“Something’s got her interest. She’ll be here in a sec.”
Ned dropped a box of wrapped burgers, fries and bottles of drink on the table next to the laptop.
“And what’d you discover with that disc, babe?”
“She’s strong but I reckon we’re a fuckin’ lot stronger.”
“She doin’ strength stuff was she?”
“Tossed a car maybe forty feet but that may be ‘bout as strong as she gets.”
Nothin’ really. Just tormented a couple of troopers. She didn’t hurt ‘em, ... although ...”
“Although, she is real fast. Blink of the eye stuff. Don’t ask how she does it.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting.”
Jess had returned to the room.
“Watcha lookin’ at darlin’?”
“Just some plants, we’re doing a science project on genetics. We have to grow plants.”
Such was the extent of Susie’s interest in that subject.
“Jessica, darlin’, would ya be able to do somethin’ real important for mommy?”
“Do we eat first?”
“No, it’ll only take a minute, then we eat. Okay?”
“Can ya come outside ...”
Jess and Ned followed Susie. It was dark and quiet.
“... now see that street light down near that little park?”
Susie pointed to a fluorescent light about three hundred yards away.
“What I want ya to do is get to that light pole as quick as ya can – full pace.”
“Mommy, I don’t know.”
“Well, when I try to run too fast I always break the ground when I start. I don’t like to do that.”
“Look, start on the asphalt here. It’s already worn, ya can’t hurt it.”
“And go at your top pace, then stop and wait for my wave and do it again to come back. Got it?”
“Whenever, you’re ready darlin’.”
Jess steadied herself and with a ‘whoosh’ was gone. Susie watched the light pole. The young girl appeared there just as her mother counted to ‘two’.
Susie grumbled. Ned quizzed her.
“Bit slow was it?”
Susie waved and Jess returned. Perhaps a little quicker, breathing a little heavy. That was some effort.
“I told you mommy, I said I would crack the pavement.”
Susie shook her head. There was a small crater about six inches round and an inch or two deep through the top of the asphalt. It was just another pothole in a pock-marked car park.
“I wouldn’t be too worried, darlin’.”
“Can I eat now?”
“We all will.”
Susie took the effort to explain to Jessica what the stunt was about and how important it could be to run very, very fast to chase the supergirl.
Chase was the operative word. The girl would only have a fraction of Jessica’s strength.
Jess understood the seriousness of the project and her role in it. Susie was impressed at her intelligence and commitment and (as was all too often the case) resigned to the girl’s singlemindedness as the Muscle Miss commandeered the laptop after their dinner. The adults didn’t care. Even with sharing the driving it was still a long day. The food made them tired. They wanted to get to Omaha by lunch. A definite early start.
They found the troopers in an interview room. A hot coffee in hand, in good spirits, not visibly injured.
Susie couldn’t vouch for their mental condition, though.
She wore an indigo skivvy, a garment that gripped tight to every muscle above her hips. Her charcoal trousers or slacks were of a reinforced material, the appearance of leather but five times more durable. Again, the fabric squeezed over her quads and calves, pushing into her low cut boots. Braless, small waisted, massively muscular, Ned told her she looked just so damn fuckable.
It was not the look the appearance the troopers expected, however. They acted as if they’d seen a ghost. Forget the blonde hair; those arms, those muscles, all came back to them as she entered the room.
The arrival of Jessica behind her mother would not have helped. Ned convinced his daughter to go ‘soft’: a white (sleeveless) blouse, buttoned in the middle, straining against the lats and pecs, a mid-length navy blue skirt, dainty white shoes and a little red bow in the tied back hair. The paradox with the muscularity of her arms and legs was confronting. She looked so cute; so hard.
Susie was unconcerned with the men’s psyche. She was already focused on her meeting with the supergirl. A statement had to be made up front: it demanded attention.
“Thanks for meetin’ me boys. I’m Susie Beaumont. A Federal employee you might say.”
“Ah, hi, umm, Sam Gallo, this here’s m’partner Willy Tomlin.”
The closer trooper had introduced himself. Susie made the effort to shake their hands – firm, as they would expect – she was the ‘good’ supergirl.
Jess was harder to explain. The men kept glancing at her. Under instruction, the young girl kept smiling back. She rattled them.
“And guys, this is my daughter, Jessica. As ya can see, she’s a chip off the old block.”
The troopers didn’t respond.
“So ... can you guys tell me what the girl said to ya, like, I saw the recordin’ and how she ran ya ‘round and threw the car ...”
“Ya wanna know what we was talkin’ ‘bout?”
It was Sam. Susie guessed he’d taken leadership.
“... Yeah, there’s just a coupla things ...”
“Ma’am, we weren’t there to fraternise, I mean, she’s come out, sped to the vehicle, then ...”
“No, Sam, thanks, I get what happened. Perhaps I need to explain better.”
Susie sighed. Then smiled; willing her voice to sound soft.
“What ... we’re tryin’ to do here ... is ... build a profile of the girl.”
“Ma’am, can I ask ya personal, straight out?”
“You related to this girl?”
“No, look I know what ya thinkin’ and yes I’ve got super-strength, as has Jessica ...”
The troopers looked at the girl with a bow in her hair.
“... but it’s nothin’ to do with this supergirl. We’re not aliens or mutants or anythin’, it’s just how things are.”
Willy kept going.
“Ma’am I don’t wanna be rude but this here’s freakin’ us out. Like, my wife struggles to lift a washin’ basket and now ya sayin’ we got here a coupla of women who can toss cars around.”
“Ah, okay, yes, umm, that’s what we got.”
“And me too, mommy, I can throw a car.”
Willy shook his head in feigned disgust. Sam was more direct.
“I think we’ll be needin’ to speak with our commander, Ma’am. I’m sorry. But I’m sure you’ll understand.”
Susie nodded her head. Saying nothing, she ushered Jess out of the room ahead of her. Ned was in the corridor.
“What’d you get?”
“Two parts of fuck all.”
“Yeah, told ya I should’ve done it.”
“Thanks, Sherlock, but I’m not convinced. I reckon if they got anythin’ they would’ve gushed it out.”
Ned turned and walked toward the squad room. Susie looked at Jess.
“Guess it’s you and me, darlin’, workin’ it out for ourselves.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No darlin’ ...”
Susie squatted in front of Jess and half whispered.
“... the weak men know they’ve failed. It’s our time now.”
Jess nodded and smiled.
Ned agreed that there was a danger in him travelling with Susie and Jess to find the supergirl. The obvious weak link, the mutual fear being that she could use her speed to get to Ned and harm him before the strength queen and her princess could catch up. No. It was ‘Supergirls Only’ on this ride.
The directions to the homestead sent them north along the western side of the Missouri floodplain. Ten minutes out of town they detoured and found what they were looking for. There were no other cars or obvious sign of life; the Feds were hidden somewhere. On instruction Jess left her shoes in the car and hand-in-hand they began the two hundred yard walk toward the small house.
Susie saw the door open. The girl appeared and in a blink she was standing three feet in front of them. Hands on hips. Smiling.
“Hi, y’all, watcha doin’ here?”
“Hi there. My name’s Susie Beaumont. This here’s my daughter, Jessica. We’re up from Texas and we’d like to join ya for a chat if we can.”
“I’m Sallyanne, most folks call me Sal. But I’m afraid I’m not really up to chattin’ today. Maybe another time.”
Sallyanne wore a large white singlet. Nothing more. It covered her breasts and her ass. Her muscularity apparent, her speed already demonstrated.
“Sal, can we go inside? I’m not a cop or a narc.”
“I don’t think so, lady, and before ya start thinkin’ of using those big muscles of yours, ya might remember that I’m packin’ some pretty powerful ones of my own.”
Sal gave a single bicep flex of the left arm. She was big, like a massive bodybuilder, maybe the same height as Susie or a little taller. A very pretty face with unkempt raven hair; in another life she could well have worked as a teen model.
And close up she looked more of a sixteen or seventeen year old than she did on video. Her voice, a high toned Delta accent, added to the impression of youth.
“I know ‘bout your super-strength. That’s fine, we’re not too shabby on that front either.”
“I see ya girl’s got a bitta muscle on her ...”
Sal squatted in front of Jessica, the singlet rearing up and opening out at the same time. Susie wondered why she bothered.
“... so missy, that’s big arms for a little girl. Where’d ya get these?”
Jess stood with her arms at her side, as Sal reached and felt the upper arm, Jess tensed and flexed the muscles so that the bi’s and tri’s expanded as one. The girl’s grip was forced away. She seemed stunned.
“Hoo wee, they’s like knobs of steel those muscles.”
Susie was also little stunned. The first time she had noticed Jess flex since the unexplained increase in their strength; on exertion, the usual bulky mounds of muscle appeared serrated and cut, cables of veins forced into the skin. When relaxed, the typical appearance resumed.
For her part, Sallyanne pushed her luck. She raised her right hand and with her thumb and fingers either side of Jess’s mouth, squeezed her cheeks.
“I think, missy, y’all might be a bit cheeky.”
If it was meant as a show of superiority, it failed. Jess pushed at the supergirl’s left shoulder. She spun off her feet and landed face down about eight feet away. Susie strode to where she lay; the girl stirred and shaken, her naked ass sticking up in front of them.
“What the fuck was that?”
“I don’t think Jess took too kindly to ya grippin’ on her face.”
Susie grabbed the girl by her upper arm and lifted her to her feet, brushing dirt and grass off the singlet. Susie wanted to feel the hardness of the muscles.
“I guess she’s a little stronger than she looks.”
There was no ‘give’ in the skin – it was as if stretched over stone – unsurprising to the touch of a McAdam woman. Still, Susie was curious.
“She’s a strong girl, Sal. Doesn’t mean ya harm, but ya might wanna respect her space.”
Her arms returned to her side, Jess said nothing; her glare said it all.
Susie feigned concern for Sal’s shoulder as she felt the flint-hard pec and dropped her hand to feel the left breast. At the same time her other hand, under the guise of straightening the singlet, felt the girl’s right buttock.
“Hey lady, I’m up for anythin’ but y’all might wanna get ta know me first.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to be fresh ...”
The touch-up was edifying. The bum cheek was ‘soft’ compared to her own – still hard by ‘normal’ standards but not achieving the rounded rigidity of the McAdam derriere. On the other hand, the bosom was typical of that size. Maybe a B to C cup, there was not the firmness that many bodybuilders develop. And no way as firm as Susie’s own double D’s. The supergirl intended on finding that out for herself.
“... umm, anyway do ya wanna head inside?”
With a wide smile, Sallyanne ran her hand up Susie’s abs and without any attempt at pretence, fondled at the left breast.
“Well why not, honey, I might find something for the little girl to watch while we big girls get more comfortable.”
As she spoke she continued to feel the pecs, then the delts and down the upper arm. Susie made no effort to tense or flex.
“How old are ya, Sal?”
Susie regretted it as soon as she said it.
“Why I’m old enough for you, lady...”
She moved her hands to her hips, tensing her upper arms, her face now a scowl.
“... What? Y’all got big muscles ya think ya too good for me? Well I’m fuckin’ super strong, lady, watch this.”
The girl sped to Ned’s car. Susie ran after her with Jess following, unsure of what to do.
Susie watched as the girl seemed to lift the back of the car with one arm, swinging it around so the front grill faced Susie who had stopped eighty feet short. The broad smile returned – the effort seemed minimal – and as if she aimed the car and hurled it into the air with the power of just that one arm.
The sedan did a complete somersault. At first Susie pushed forward but then realised the throw was directed to where she had been, ran backwards in an effort to catch the car before the shocks had to absorb the fall.
It didn’t work.
As the car performed its turn it picked up speed and momentum, no longer would it land where Susie was but maybe ten foot further behind. Susie realised this late and as the car reached her, she lost balance falling backward under it. She failed to take any strain of the fall; the only pain she felt was embarrassment.
Jess’s tone was quizzical, not concerned. The young girl knew her mother could catch and lift the car with ease. This must’ve been a plan she was unaware of.
“I’m fine, darlin’ ...”
Susie wiggled out from under the engine, careful not to lift the chassis. Her top filthy from the dirt and oil - her breasts having rubbed across the sump - she sat up to see the supergirl in the same spot - checking on the health of her prey.
“... I slipped that’s all.”
As Susie stood and began to brush down her slacks, the girl arrived in front of her, smiling.
“Ya tryin’ to fuckin’ kill me?”
The girl giggled.
“I just wanna play a bit. See how strong y’all think ya really are.”
“Ya don’t need to throw a car on me to do that.”
“Y’all okay aren’t ya? Might have big muscles, lady, but ya ain’t as strong as me, I don’t reckon.”
Damn. Not what Susie wanted to hear.
Sallyanne walked toward Jess and squatted in front of her – a step and half back from last time.
“Y’all a strong little girl, I know that. Reckon ya can lift the front of that there car?”
Before Jess could answer, Susie intervened.
“Oh yeah, Sal, she can lift the front tires off the ground, she’s that strong. Not like you but, she’ll need ta use both hands, won’t ya darlin’?”
“I can use both hands, mommy.”
“You’ll need to darlin’, ‘cause it’ll be a difficult lift as the car is real heavy.”
“I know that.”
Susie crossed her fingers.
Jessica stood in front of the car. Placing both hands under the grill she adopted a stern look. She bent her legs and looking as though she was concentrating hard, tensed the muscles in her arms and legs.
She maintained the look, the tension, as the front of the car moved away from the ground then the tires lifted. An even, gradual lift, Jess stopped when she stood straight with her elbows in front of her chin. By now the engine was almost above her. She then reversed the process, returning the wheels to the ground.
“Oh well done, well done!”
Her mother squatted and gave Jess a hug – a much deserved hug – silently feeling the omnipresent pain of her daughter’s affection.
“Can I get a hug too, missy?”
Susie said nothing and watched as Jess, on a high, offered her usual hug to the shoulders of the supergirl.
“OWW! AHH! STOP! STOP!”
“Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean ... I forgot.”
“Oh, shit! That hurt.”
Susie moved to Sallyanne who was rubbing the left shoulder.
“Ya know, Sal, ya mighta hurt that shoulder more than ya thought earlier and throwin’ that car ‘round just made it worse.”
If she was hurt she recovered quick. The supergirl’s smile returned; her look one of mischief.
“So what else y’all do?”
“Like can ya run quick? I mean real quick.”
“Ya know I can’t, ya saw that.”
“What about the young’un?”
“Call me Jessica.”
“Okay, what about Jessica. She run quick?”
Sallyanne spoke to Jessica herself.
“Okay, Jessica, what about runnin’ out to that shed down yonder?”
Jess followed the direction of Sal’s arm. Susie helped her along.
“About a mile and half, Jess, ya can do it without too much of a rush.”
“Yes, I don’t need to run flat out?”
“Fast, not flat out.”
Jess balanced herself and set out. A dust trail tracked her progress to the shed. The effort completed in about fifteen seconds. Sal nodded her head.
“Now that looks real fast to me.”
“That’s what ya wanted?”
“Sure. Now ...”
The girl faced Susie and pulled the bottom of her singlet out with each hand, raising it above her waist. The shaven mound glistened as it felt the mid-morning sun.
“... with ya little girl away, the big girls can play.”
Susie glanced to see Jess standing near the shed awaiting the signal to return.
“Don’t be worried about her, honey, she ain’t gonna see me.”
“Um ... ya know Sal, another time, another place ...”
Sallyanne pushed up to Susie – eye to eye – the older woman took a step back, the younger woman a step forward.
“I gotta feelin’ y’all weren’t just wantin’ to know how damn hard I am.”
“No, honey, I think ya might be a bit kinky for a big hunk of muscle sex.”
“Um ... yeah.”
The girl was pressed up against the older woman, her legs straddling Susie’s right thigh, the right hand starting again at the abs – this time pushing downward, inside the top of the slacks.
“I picked ya for someone who didn’t like underwear. I like that. Show’s ya hot. Show’s ya want it.”
Susie was reluctant to take control, she had no idea where this was going; best to let the girl do the driving.
“Yeah, darlin’, I’m up for it. But not here; not now.”
The girl’s fingers found Susie’s clitoris. It was going hard. She was getting damp.
“Mmm, a big bodybuilder clit. Yeah, had them before. That’s what y’all are, aren’t ya honey? A big leso bodybuilder, come to check me out. Come to see if ya stronger than Sallyanne.”
“I told ya, Sal, I’m here to talk. This just ain’t the place to do it.”
“How much can ya lift, honey, two hundred pounds, four hundred pounds? These big muscles might lift a lot I reckon. But not as much as me.”
Sallyanne dropped a finger down to the labia, her strength pushing against the resistance of the trousers, Susie gushed as the finger went into her.
“How much ya lift, Sal?”
“How much? Well, ya saw me throw this car. No, I can do more, much more.”
“Biggest I done? I did a dual loco, diesel coupled together. Maybe what, two hundred ton. Just got it up. Couldn’t get under it, but I was happy with that. That’s supergirl stuff. Two hundred ton, honey. Can y’all do that?”
“Sal, I know ... I think ya made ya point ... um ... we can’t go further unless I undo my pants and I ain’t doin’ that, so ...”
“Okay, okay, your loss ...”
The hand came out, the middle finger wet with her juice. Sal put it in her mouth and watched Susie as she sucked while withdrawing it.
“... That’s one thing I reckon we got in common, honey, we like the taste of that girl cream.”
Susie walked around the girl and waved to Jess who reappeared before another word was said. In any event, Sal still held the conversation.
“You’re a real quick girl, Jessica. Ya know what y’all remind me of?”
Jess shook her head, Sal again squatted, this time six foot from Jess.
“Y’all remind me of the gators I used to see down home. ‘Cause a gator can run real quick in a straight line ...”
With her index finger Sal dug a straight fifteen inch line in the dirt.
“... but they can’t turn quick round rocks or trees ...”
She drew wavy lines across the straight one.
“... so I learned myself to run real fast straight and real fast crooked. Young’un, you gotta learn to run crooked.”
Jess was emotionless. Sal, proud of her analysis, straightened and faced Susie, both women with hands on hips.
“So, honey, I think we worked out that I’m a whole lot stronger than y’all and maybe a fair bit stronger than Jessica here. So why don’t ya cut the crap and tell me how ya daughter came to lift two ton of car off the ground.”
Susie shrugged her shoulders.
“You ain’t tellin’ me you were born that strong, Sal? Ya might’ve outrun a few gators but if ya were always that strong you’d never need too.”
“Yeah, but ya missin’ the point, honey. Y’all gotta see that ... I’m the super strong one here. ...”
She paused and smiled as if to make the point.
“... I’m the one askin’ the questions. Y’all got that?”
“I know ‘bout the experiments at Falstaff, Sal. I know that they, they selected you and took ya there and pumped ya fulla chemicals. Then ya saw ya muscles grow and ya got strong. Tell me ‘bout all that, Sal. Tell me ‘bout it.”
As Susie spoke the girl turned away but as the final words were uttered she swung around; the scowl had returned: a fierce menacing look.
“I’ll tell y’all fuckin’ nothin’! Understand, bitch!”
Sal leapt at the car. Shattering the window of the driver’s door, she grabbed the door frame and in one motion tore it from the hinges and hurled it at Susie standing a bare six feet away. The older woman had no time to move; the force of the door striking her face knocked her back but as she tried to steady, her boots slipped giving the impression she’d been felled by the blow.
Jess wasn’t going to wait for a command. As her mother hit the dirt, she hit the supergirl like a missive, tackling her and sitting on her abdomen, pinning her arms at the elbows. Sal screeched and screamed her resistance but couldn’t budge Jessica an inch.
There was no need for haste. Susie took her time before walking to the prone girl, her legs thrashing, giving the FBI Spycam a real good shot of her cunt lips. Susie grabbed each ankle and defying the girl’s response with ease, held them in one hand.
“Ya know the trouble with those experiments, Sal?”
The girl didn’t answer, continuing to squirm and cuss.
“They only grow ya muscles and ya strength. Look at Jessica, here. Her hands, her wrists, her ankles, all bigger than yours: even now. Her strength is an all-of-body thing, not just her muscles. Everything she has is strong. That’s why she’s always gonna win.”
“And she’s fuckin’ heavy. Let me up!”
Susie motioned to Jess to get off which she did without question. The girl was still sneering but the spirit seemed beaten.
“And you, lady, I hit ya with that door but y’all don’t have a fuckin’ scratch.”
“It’s not ‘bout me, Sal, it’s ‘bout you.”
“Fuck you, bitch.”
“Ya gotta death sentence. That stuff they stuck into ya killed a dozen others. Ya not one of a kind, Girl, ya the only one who’s not dead.”
Sallyanne stared back at Susie, after a few seconds she shook her head.
“Fine, your life, what’s left of it.”
“What ya want?”
“Tell me who’s behind this. Who’s usin’ ya strength.”
“Bullshit. Who took the footage of the robbery? Who put it on the ‘net?”
The supergirl smiled.
“Y’all wanna know that? Ya gotta fuckin’ catch me.”
And with that she was gone.
“Go Jess! Go!”
A puff of dust and an eight inch crater was evidence of the young girl’s commitment. She too was gone.
Susie looked back on the car. The base of the door had hit her flush on the right side of the face. The large dent at the bottom of the frame was testament to the strength of the supergirl’s throw.
The house exhibited a rustic charm - to be kind. Susie was not interested in appearance. She wanted something. She knew it would be there. Whatever it was.
A DVD on a table titled ‘Sweet 16’.
That had to be good. Other recordings? No. Camcorder? No. Used condoms? A couple.
It’s right to think that the girl will demand of a guy that if it ain’t on, it ain’t on.
Susie shook her head.
The intuition of a teenage slut playing through, Susie doubted a condom could ever be a Sallyanne priority. Rather, it may be the sign of a more mature reckoning; someone profligate and now anonymous.
Susie grabbed the disc. Walking outside, Jess was in the middle distance - walking toward her.
The supergirl was nowhere in sight.
She didn’t need to ask. Jess’s demeanour said it all. Not least of all her attire.
The blouse was torn, the ribbon gone, the skirt split. The supergirl had run into the thick wooded land west of the floodplain, Jess taking on the challenge with all her extreme speed.
Problem for the little girl was just that. She lost sight of Sallyanne, whose experience in the bayou country meant it was natural for her to weave at pace; added to the simple fact that she knew where to go.
Jess realised it quick: she was lost and needed to withdraw. From where Ned sat in the FBI surveillance trailer in Omaha, the damage to the undergrowth made by Sallyanne was obvious. But that was no help to the four and a half foot girl. Jess had returned along the massive gash she had made in the vegetation. The virgin scrub pristine no more.
“Darlin’ can you do somethin’ with that door?”
Like a little fembot, Jess altered her course on command and headed for the car. Susie needed to respond to a call of nature. She walked to the back of the house. Passing the bedroom she stopped to look. Everything perfect in its place, almost as they it hadn’t been used for weeks. She opened a wardrobe. Men’s clothes: trousers, shirts and a US Navy officer’s blue dress tunic. The four stripes of a captain on each sleeve under the five pointed star.
Might explain the condoms.
Flicking through the drawers of the dresser and bedside tables revealed nothing.
The bathroom was also spotless. While sitting, Susie could reach the bottom vanity cabinet.
There were needles – used and unused – and a vial with a brand name. Norma Hellas. Some form of steroid.
“Why the fuck would that girl need this shit?”
Maybe it wasn’t for her.
Anyway, no needle would pierce her skin. It must be for the captain or someone else who lived in the house or stayed over.
Taking the disc, Susie otherwise left the house as she found it. She watched Jess put the finishing touches on her job with the door. The dent at the bottom had been straightened out. It looked like she’d ‘welded’ the door to the frame.
“This is the best I could do.”
“You’ve done very well, sweetheart. Thank you.”
Susie bent and kissed the girl on the forehead. Jess was pleased.
“Mommy, why did you take the disc?”
“Evidence, darlin’, the police may need it.”
“And why did that girl touch you like she did?”
“She’s tryin’ to see if I had a wire. Remember? Daddy and I talked about me wearing a wire so the FBI could hear us.”
“She seemed like a naughty girl.”
“I think she’s just a bit confused darlin’. Lonely and confused.”
Susie ushered Jess toward the car.
“C’mon let’s see daddy.”
Ned had left the van and returned to the motel. He texted Susie to tell her; there seemed nothing more they could do in Nebraska.
“Sorry ‘bout the car, Ned.”
“No matter, the Feds said they’d buy me a new one. I’m holding them to it.”
Susie waved the DVD in front of Ned’s face.
“I wanna see this.”
“Won’t be much good as evidence, you did an illegal search.”
“We’re not law enforcement, darlin’, I wanna find out more ‘bout that program not stick anyone in prison.”
“Fine, just checking.”
“Mommy, can I watch?”
“Might not be for general exhibition, darlin’, I’ll let ya know.”
Jess wouldn’t get to see it. As the adults watched, she contented herself with a television that only worked on one channel.
The recording started innocuous enough. There was a party. It looked like it was in the lounge area of the girl’s house. There was a cake and the girl was blowing out candles. She wore an unzipped sweat top and white tee over jeans. There was no audio but she seemed to talk to someone off camera, then took her right arm out of her sweat top and flexed.
“Nothin’ like she is now, Ned.”
“Yeah, 15 inches max. Maybe the treatment was only just taking hold.”
She pulled her top up and flexed her abs. Eight pack, very tight.
“It’s like she’s got ... a bodybuilder physique. Know what I mean, babe?”
“She’s bigger now but.”
“Not that you actually saw her abs.”
“Hooley dooley, darlin’, never thought I’d see them again.”
After finishing the little poses, the recording changed angles. There was a man and woman, naked, the woman a massive build of muscle and the guy not far behind physique-wise. Recognition was instant: Angela and Cy Weatherby. Angela had an arm around his shoulder, the other hand massaging his hard-on. Both hammed it up for the camera. Again the recording seemed to stop and start. Now Cy and Angela were on the lounge itself, she on all fours, he giving her a doggie. That vision lasted about five minutes. Ned fast forwarded through it.
“I’m assuming we’re not wanting to watch that bit.”
“Seen it all before, darlin’.”
“We both have.”
The camera panned away to the face and torso of another male looking early middle age; waving at the camera as if not to show him. Ned reacted this time.
“Fffaarr out. Would not expect to see him.”
“Simon Birmingham. Remember? We met him at that bar in Galveston the day you bent up that car.”
“That guy was bald and pushin’ 50.”
“Simon’s only ‘bout 48 now, babe, but yeah, this explains it. He’s had more than a little nip ‘n’ tuck I’d say.”
“He looks hot, almost.”
“Mmm, might need to if he’s playin’ with a teenager.”
“What’s this then?”
The camera had been stopped and started again. It was a close in shot. Sallyanne looked naked, at least from the waist up, sucking on a good size cock.
“She’s gotta good muscled body, Susie, pity she never did the Club. She’s what they needed down there.”
“Somethin’s tellin’ me she might’ve. Dunno why, just a feelin’.”
Sallyanne hammed up to the camera which had closed in to about a foot. Then Angela appears in shot, feeling up the girl – her shoulders, her breasts – the girl starts to go hard at the cock, then, as if on cue, pulls back and points the head of the cock at Angela who is sprayed with a stream of cum.
Susie chortled with laughter.
As did the girl - who seemed to then squeeze out another couple of spurts, this time on her.
“Ya think that’s Simon’s, umm, ya know.”
“Don’t know, babe, is that all?”
“Umm, just forward a bit ... Oh, this looks interesting.”
“Funny, she’s wearin’ jeans.”
That’s all Sallyanne was wearing. This part of the recording showed her performing three strength acts – the effortless bending of a stainless steel bar (two foot long and three inches in diameter); lifting a small truck off its back wheels using one hand (again with little apparent effort) and the last scene at a different location. Now wearing that burgundy supergirl costume, she smiled at the camera, turned and tore the door of a large wall safe away from its frame.
“I reckon it’d take more than 200 tons of pressure to do that.”
“You’re the expert, Suzz.”
“She told us she could only lift 200 tons, I reckon that shows she’s stronger.”
“She did it easy.”
“Yep, she’s strong alright. She’s fast, she’s agile. She’s a national menace and I can’t do fuck about it.”
That was the end of the recording. Susie removed the disc and handed it to Ned.
“Darlin’ do ya want the laptop now?”
Jess said nothing. She turned away from watching the TV, opened the browser and began to type. Susie started to tell Ned of what the girl had told her – such as it was.
“Mommy, look at this.”
Jess had found a video on Youtube titled ‘Sallyanne benches 175 lbs at 112’. It only lasted 21 seconds but it was the Sallyanne they knew, benching 175 pounds for one repetition.
“When was that put up, darlin’?”
“Umm, three years ago.”
“So she would’ve been about 14 then. From what I can recall, benching 175 at that bodyweight at that age was pretty special.”
“Amazing isn’t it, Susie? This would’ve been before she went to Falstaff. She must’ve been naturally strong.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised. Any other videos like that, sweetheart?”
“Does it say who put it up there?”
“Umm, one word. Louisianapowerlifting.”
“She coulda been a state champ for her age, babe, maybe that’s what brought her to Angela’s attention.”
“Maybe, but, nah, I think she’s the little harlot. That’s what they were after.”
“Don’t discount it.”
“I think we should hit the road, babe, try and get back to Kansas City or Wichita tonight.”
“Can ya download that DVD to ya phone, I wanna send it to Jenna.”
“Sure, but ... you think she wants her mother to send her a video of Angela and Cy?”
“She’s a big girl, Ned. I wanna know if, err, it was Cy with Sal, if ya follow my drift.”
“So what if it wasn’t? Doesn’t prove it was anyone.”
“Or else it was Simon.”
“No, we saw four people in the video. We don’t know who’s recordin’ it. There could’ve been five.”
“Whatever. Just send the video.”
“Fine, you wanna torment your daughter? Be it on your scalp.”