Hailstorm

by Sean Porter

* * * * * * *

A quiet street in a typical suburban neighborhood. Large, beautifully constructed homes stand proudly behind perfectly manicured lawns as a small child peddles a tricycle down the sidewalk. Idyllic, peaceful tranquility reigns.

Until a strange and provocative figure invades the scene. Six feet tall, unmistakably female, clad in a tight and revealing outfit of purple lycra. The figure strides menacingly up the walk to the front door of the first house on the block. She doesn't ring the bell or even try the knob; with one powerful kick the heavy door is smashed in, hinges ripped and deadbolt snapped apart. She moves unhurriedly through the house, leaving as soon as she knows it's empty. She glances at a big screen TV, knowing how easily she could carry it away, but that's not what she's after.

She moves from house to house, some empty, others occupied. A few men, but not enough. Never enough. She takes no notice of their protests, simply taking what she wants and moving on. Their efforts to hinder her, whether verbal or physical, are so feeble that it would require concentration on her part to even acknowledge them. Some of them own guns, but those wouldn't harm her even if the imbeciles knew how to use them.

She knows, of course, that she is setting off several very expensive and reliable alarm systems, and as she makes her way down the block she smiles at the thought of an impending stand-off with whatever pathetic rent-a-cops will soon be arriving to deal with her.

"But that will be only the beginning," she smirks to herself.

By the time the so-called 'authorities' arrive to apprehend her, she has nearly given up. She really should have looked for some place more urban, more densely populated. But you have to start somewhere.

"Somewhere else," she thought to herself with a disappointed pout, eyeing the single security car pulling up to the curb. She casually sauntered across the lawn toward it. A short, balding middle-aged man clumsily extricated himself from the driver's seat and raised a ridiculously small gun at her as she approached. "Halt!" he said, trying to sound imposing. She wondered if he had ever fired that gun, even in training.

"Halt?" she snickered. "Who talks like that? If you were a real man, or even a real cop, you would have shot me already." She took three more steps, and suddenly his pistol was nestled in her impressive cleavage. "Not that it would have made any difference," she snarled.

"You're under arrest," he stammered, as if reading from a script. "Turn around and put your hands on the hood of the car."

"Whatever you say hun," the vixen purred, and did as she was told. The security guard, to his credit, held the gun on her with one hand while his other patted the skin-tight fabric which clung to her curvaceous frame. "As if I could be hiding anything under this outfit," she chuckled.

"Put your hands behind your back," he countered, reaching for his cuffs. But the next sound to reach his ears was the deafening wail of crumpling metal. Her hands were pressing down on the hood of his car, pushing the iron down around the engine block. In the next second, she had reached down under the bumper, lifted the front end of his car off the ground with one hand, and flipped it over. It landed in the middle of the road, upside-down, with a sickening crunch. Shattered glass flew in every direction.

With one long stride, she stepped toward the vehicle, raised her leg, and slammed her foot down into the center of the rear bumper. The car bounced and skidded across the road, up the lawn of the house across the street, and crashed through a huge picture window into the living room. It seemed to happen almost in slow motion. Blinking, the guard turned his astonished gaze from the car to the woman, who now stood with her hands on her hips, patiently awaiting his next move. Gulping, he pointed his gun at her and pulled the trigger.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding," she growled, inspecting the smoking hole in her costume, just above her left breast. "Do you think I enjoy shopping for outfits like this?"

He gaped at the small hole, and at the creamy, unblemished skin visible through it. "Wh--who are you?" he whispered.

She reached out and grabbed a fistful of his uniform. He felt it bunching under his armpits as his feet left the ground. Her outstretched arm held him motionless in midair.

"My name is Succubus," she said in a calm, seductive voice. Her arm lowered slightly, enough to bring his lips to hers. He climaxed instantly, his body shuddering as a wet patch spread over the crotch of his grey slacks. "Go tell your friends."

She hurled him through the air, thoughtfully aiming for the soft-looking bushes which lined the house across the street. She overestimated his weight, however, and he bounced off the stucco wall first.

* * * * * * *

Richard Keller shook his head and flipped the channel again. "190 channels and nothing on," he quipped.

His wife failed to laugh at the joke, probably because it was about the five hundredth time he'd used it, and it was already an old one when he'd started. He glanced at the barbell she was currently benchpressing. An impressive amount of weight for a normal human being, to be sure, but nothing that would tax his Hailey to distraction. She'd heard him. He shrugged.

It was a few moments, however, before he turned his gaze back to the television to continue his fruitless quest for entertainment. They'd been married for 12 years, and he no longer experienced an uncontrollable urge to tear her clothes off every time he glanced at her, but she was still a sight to behold. At 37, she was still frequently mistaken for a college student; her flawless features and long, golden hair were the stuff wet dreams are made of. She had a chest that could make a man sprain his ankle on his brake pedal, and a waist to make a bikini model sick with envy. But only her husband knew the whole story.

As a young girl, Hailey had been diagnosed with a bizarre growth disorder; her body responded to physical strain with astonishing efficiency. Whenever her muscles were taxed, they harnessed as much energy as her body could produce and immediately became stronger. She baffled several doctors before an expert finally enlightened her parents as to what was going on. He thought he could correct the problem, but when he admitted that there would be no harmful side effects, the decision was made to allow Hailey to continue through life with muscles that would develop themselves as needed to meet any challenge.

For that decision, Richard Keller would be eternally grateful. His wife could curl a thousand pounds, fold a jeep in half, crush a golf ball or lift a house. In short, she could fulfill any of the million supergirl fantasies he'd ever had, look incredibly sexy doing it, and enjoy it as much as he did. Having a husband who appreciated and enjoyed her unique gift, instead of being shocked or disgusted as so many other guys had been, was a dream come true that never faded for her. And the fact that her strength was their little secret, never to be shared with anyone else, was like an aphrodisiac for them both.

At first Richard had wanted her to keep getting stronger and stronger, to continue pushing her body to its ever-expanding limits. This wasn't exactly a chore, since Hailey enjoyed "working out" and got a thrill from using her strength in new ways. But after a certain point, it got a little tiresome, not to mention futile. After all, there was no earthly reason why she should need to be able to lift, say, the Great Pyramid in Egypt, or any practical way to do it if she could. The day she benchpressed three tons, they both decided she was as strong as either of them could ever wish for.

For now, she was benching only 600 pounds, a mere trifle. Her muscles barely registered the weight, and she kept getting distracted by Richard's endless channel-flipping. Why couldn't he decide what he wanted to watch and just watch it? Her shapely mouth curved in a half-smile. Maybe she'd give him something to watch...

She gently set down the barbell next to her bench, and walked over to Richard's chair. Standing between him and the television, she folded her arms sternly.

Her husband playfully leaned over as if trying to see around her. She glanced over her shoulder. "What are you watching, some cheesy superhero movie?" Prancing on the screen was a tall, buxom woman in a ridiculously bad spandex outfit.

"Actually, this is the--" But he got no further. Hailey bent at the waist and gripped the base of his reclining armchair. The heavy piece of furniture rose smoothly from the floor in her outstretched arms, with her adorable husband in it. She now had his full attention.

"Turn off the television, dear." He did.

"Your darling wife has finished playing with her little 600-pound toy. Now she wants to play with you."

Needing no further invitation, Richard slid off the chair and wrapped his legs around Hailey's slender waist. As he playfully kissed her neck, she let the chair drop back to the floor and carried him into the bedroom.

* * * * * * *

"911 Emergency. Okay sir, where are you exactly? I see...and is she still there? Yes, we know about her. No, do not try to detain her yourself. We will have a unit out there as soon as possible. Are you alright? Good...just get away from there if you can. Yes.

"Yes, you're right. We're sending multiple units."

* * * * * * *

Hailey rolled over and giggled. Richard pursued her relentlessly, his large hands pawing her sensuous curves as he peppered her stomach with kisses. She scooted back, making him chase her, until her back was against the head of the bed. He smiled mischievously at her, reaching for a drawer in the nightstand. She pretended to be helpless to resist as he produced two thick cords of rope and tied her wrists to the bedposts. She allowed him to slowly kiss his way down the length of her naked body, her arousal intensifying with each touch of his loving, lusting lips. Finally he stood up on the bed, looking down at her, his cock hard and throbbing just inches away. She leaned forward, trying to take him into her mouth, but he pulled back, remaining just out of reach. She moaned and whimpered, as if desperately needing him.

At first she had been a little uncomfortable with incorporating her strength into their love life, but as Richard shared more of his fantasies with her, being completely open and vulnerable, she felt privileged to be able to please him in this way that no other woman ever could. And over time, she herself felt more and more pleasure in her strength, until it seemed impossible that she could have ever enjoyed sex without indulging and reveling in it.

Playing her role to the fullest, she strained and tugged against the flimsy ropes, her voluptuous body writhing and contorting with feigned effort. Finally, making it look as though it took every ounce of strength in her body, she snapped the cords with the slightest tug. She moaned with pleasure and pulled her man toward her, taking his throbbing cock into her hot, wet mouth.

* * * * * * *

Succubus grinned with pleasure at the wide circle of police cars and SWAT vans that surrounded her. Finally, a worthy audience. Not exactly a challenge, true, but at least her abilities would now be properly demonstrated. Every direction she looked, automatic rifles were loaded and leveled at her. She could already feel the delicious sensation of those armor-piercing rounds lightly peppering her skin.

She turned toward the largest of the news cameras pointed at her and spoke in a loud, clear voice. "I am Succubus. I am not here to take over the world or destroy all life on this planet. You have little to fear from me unless you insist on trying to prevent me from getting what I want. And what I want is simple: men. Young, virile, as many as possible. As long as I have a big, hard cock in my cunt, I'll be no trouble." A few technicians scrambled to edit the footage as it went out live. "So," she continued, reaching for the collar of her skin-tight costume, "any volunteers?"

As she slowly and deliberately tore her costume apart, the cameramen looked at each other uncertainly, unsure of whether to keep filming, and the multitude of police officers stared in awe, wondering whether to accept her invitation. Her perfectly proportioned body was now completely exposed, her bronzed skin glistening in the sunlight, her shaved cunt obviously moist and ready for action. She licked her lips and let her eyes pass from man to man as if devouring each of them in turn. Within seconds, a large, well-built young man had dropped his gun and was tearing off his shirt as he ran to her. She eyed his muscular build appreciatively, helping him tear off his pants and greedily handling his impressive manhood. By now the live feeds had been turned off, but none of the cameras had stopped rolling. Succubus laid down on her back, her legs spread wide, offering herself to the stud. Wasting no time, he sank his huge cock into her, thrusting fast and hard.

The gorgeous amazon purred appreciatively and arched her back. But after only a few thrusts, the young officer began to grunt and shake, his body convulsing. His eyes rolled back in his head; his moans grew louder. As his buddies watched helplessly, he let out a climactic scream, then collapsed.

Succubus casually lifted the huge man off of her with one hand, tossing him back to his friends. "Not bad, actually," she smirked. "Who's next?"

A voice cried out, "He's dead!" "She's a killer!" warned another.

"Sure," she calmly replied. "But what a great way to go." She gazed around the circle again. "No more volunteers? Fine...I'll take my pick." She quickly darted towards the line of cops, tossing a police car aside. She grabbed another young man by the collar and kissed him deeply as she tore his pants away. His dick became instantly rock-hard, and she wasted no time in impaling herself on it. He moaned with pleasure and pain as she rode him violently, her bucking hips slamming him into the hot pavement.

"Take her out!" came the order, and the guns nearest her immediately started firing. She cooed and purred as the rounds bounced off her supple flesh, her hands cupping and rubbing her own breasts as she let the pleasurable sensation wash over her. But only a moment later the man beneath her was dead as well, and she moved on to the next.

* * * * * * *

Hailey moaned and gasped for breath, unable to think as another orgasm ripped through her body. Richard's tongue continued its relentless assault, sliding in and out of her pussy, then stroking roughly against her clit before tracing small circles around it, then back inside again, even deeper than before...

She gripped the thick steel poles tighter, feeling them compress slightly in her grip, and tried not to exert too much force. She knew how much he loved it when he made her cum so hard she broke their custom-made industrial-strength bed, but they really were expensive to replace. Still, she had lost count of how many orgasms she'd had, and each one was more intense than the last. She gritted her teeth as another rushed over her. The wail of warping metal echoed off the walls as she twisted one of the poles out of its sockets. "AHHHHhhhhhhhhhhh...oh god, Richard...nnnnNNNNNNNN..."

She'd had enough, he knew, and his cock was once again as hard as the steel she was torturing. Still, it was difficult to pull himself away from her delicious pussy and once more plunge himself into its sweet oblivion. He came quickly, sending her over the brink one last time again, and they collapsed into each other's arms, their sweat mingling as they panted for breath.

Hailey tossed the twisted pole to the floor as Richard examined the space it had left in the headboard. "That's only four," he chuckled. "Still plenty left, hun."

"I know," she sighed. "Oh shit, Richard, I can't believe you. That was so fucking good..."

He grinned and gently kissed her shoulder, wondering for the millionth time at the limitless power of the muscle beneath her soft skin.

* * * * * * *

The next morning it was all over the newspapers. "Homicidal Super-Woman Eludes Police." "Eighty-One Dead In Bizarre Orgy." "'Succubus' Issues Ultimatum: Give Me More Men Or City Is Doomed."

On TV, the news programs didn't quite know how to cover it. Sex and blood usually meant a sensationalistic treatment, but there was so much at stake that it was hard not to be somber and grave. This one woman had easily overpowered the entire city police force, and she didn't sound worried about going up against the army. Could she be the greatest threat the nation had ever faced?

From their comfortable living room sofa, Richard and Hailey Keller watched the reports with trepidation. Image after image of the deadly vixen flashed on their screen, some blurred so as not to show anything explicit. After almost an hour, Hailey flipped the set off decisively. She turned to her husband.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

Richard couldn't respond.

"Tell me it's not my job to stop that bitch."

How he wished he could. The last thing he ever wanted was to see his wife in danger. And the last thing he ever thought he would have to worry about was anything having the power to harm her. But this woman...the authorities had no answer for something like her. Hailey might be the only person on earth who did.

"Honey...maybe they'll work something out..." But even he didn't believe his weak reply.

"You know it just as well as I do," Hailey said softly. "She's a supervillain, just like in the movies. And I'm the closest thing to a superhero we've got. Richard, I have to try." She looked into his eyes and saw fear. "Please, you have to help me try."

* * * * * * *

It had been a decade since Hailey had had any reason to try to increase her strength, and even then it was only to please Richard. This was entirely different. No one knew exactly how strong Succubus was, but judging from the news footage a large vehicle was like a feather to her. And bullets didn't hurt her. That was a concern.

"How can she be bulletproof?" Richard asked. "I mean, it doesn't really matter how strong you are; if you're human bullets will still be able to hurt you, right?"

Hailey bit her lip. "I imagine my muscles could become strong enough to stop bullets, but they would still pierce my skin, I think."

"But what if you got shot in the face? Or the kneecap?"

"Well, Succubus doesn't use guns. And hopefully the cops will recognize that I'm on their side."

Richard resolved to find out as much as he could about Succubus...where she'd come from, how strong she was, her abilities and weaknesses if any, and, he hoped, exactly what the hell she was. Meanwhile, Hailey mapped out a plan for getting stronger, fast.

"I want to increase my strength by ten times every day. In a week I'll be ten million times stronger than I am now, and I'll be ready to go up against Succubus."

Richard was awed. "Honey, even if your body can handle that kind of improvement, how could you possibly push it that far? Ten million times what you can lift now? There's nothing on earth that weighs that much!"

"No," Hailey responded, "but I don't need to lift that much weight. I just need to exert that much force."

While Richard struggled to imagine what she could mean by this, Hailey descended the stairs, down into her weight room to get to work.

She headed straight for the bench in the center of the room, running a beautifully manicured fingernail along the thick bar which rested above it, waiting to be pressed. "Not until I add a little more weight," she murmured with a smile.

It had been a while, but this wasn't complicated. Whatever she wanted to be able to lift, she just needed to try to do it, and her body would respond. She eyed the imposing stack of the specially made weights Richard had given her as a wedding present. Each one six inches thick, two feet across, solid iron. What a guy. There were sixteen of them, stacked to the ceiling, in addition to the eight already on the bar.

According to Richard, each disc weighed just under seven hundred pounds. They weren't labeled, which wasn't surprising...wherever Richard had got them, he probably hadn't mentioned that they were for working out. Who knows what he'd told them.

Hailey certainly wasn't qualified to gauge their weight. The more of them she tried to lift, the lighter they felt. "And today," she giggled, "I'm going to lift all of them."

She purposefully set about sliding one plate after another onto the ends of the 15-foot-long, six-inch-thick bar. It had been reinforced somehow, with titanium or some other expensive alloy that escaped her memory. Richard had let it slip once that the bar actually cost him more than all of the gigantic weights. Even so, she wasn't sure it could hold all of these at once. She would have to position her hands as far apart on the bar as she could, to reduce the strain. She slid some of the discs in close to the center, leaving a small gap for her head and shoulders. Finally she was ready.

At least eight tons, she calculated as she slid beneath the obscenely loaded rack. This would be almost three times as much as she had ever lifted before. She reached up and gripped the bar, her fingers barely encircling half of its circumference. Nine plates to her left, nine to her right, and six directly above her, three on each side of her face. Gritting her teeth and taking a deep breath, she pushed up.

Oh. Shit. That was heavy.

Really heavy.

She was pushing up against the bar with every ounce of strength she had in her, and it wasn't moving. Not even budging. The feeling of trying to lift something and not being able to was completely foreign; she had forgotten about it completely. She grunted and forced herself to press even harder. Her face turned purple; her arms and chest burned. She had never imagined anything could feel so fucking heavy.

Finally she gasped for breath and let her hands drop. An involuntary moan escaped her lips as she massaged her overtaxed shoulders and biceps.

And then she felt it. Her muscles pulsating, energy flooding her body as if she was coming to life. The rush of adrenaline, followed by a steady warmth, both comforting and strangely erotic. She smiled and reached up again.

The bar rose slowly and smoothly into the air. She brought it forward slightly, watching it with detached interest. It was still heavy, but heavy like a full suitcase, she chuckled, not like a damn geological formation. She couldn't believe this was the same weight she had been straining against a minute ago. Her muscles pulsed and rippled with delicious effort as she lowered the bar as far as she could, until the innermost of the plates touched her hardening nipples. For a brief, breathtaking moment she struggled with it, but with a soft grunt she pushed the weight back up again.

"One."

Back down again. The metal felt so good against her nipples; why was she still wearing her shirt? Back up. "Two." She felt so strong; this was nothing. "Three." Her breasts were quivering, lifting from her chest and straining her thin t-shirt with each rep. "Four." She grinned and increased her pace. Down, up, down up, it felt like a toy. It felt like air. "Nine." She tried to imagine not being able to lift this, and laughed out loud without breaking her rhythm. "Twelve." Warm wetness between her thighs. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling, relishing her own unstoppable power. "Twenty."

She stopped. There wasn't much point. She was easily three times as strong as she had been five minutes ago. But her goal for the day was ten.

She slowly rose to a sitting position, holding the weight out in front of her. Her abs burned pleasurably in response. Standing up, she switched her grip and began to curl the massive amount. Her biceps thrilled to the challenge, surging with strength. Each rep was easier. In order to work her legs too, she began to do a squat along with each curl. Her sleek thighs and shapely calves rippled with effortless power as she lowered and raised herself, while her biceps rapidly pumped the eight tons up to her chest, then back down below her waist. "So...strong..." she muttered to herself, feeling more than a little aroused. She had forgotten how erotic it felt to increase her strength by so much in such a short time. Just the knowledge of how much weight her body was manipulating was a turn-on, and the physical pleasure of her muscles adapting and overpowering so much tonnage was nearly overwhelming. Again she felt fluid dripping from her pussy, running down her thighs...she focused on the sensation, sliding a hand inside the waistband of her shorts. It didn't occur to her to realize that she was now curling over sixteen thousand pounds with her left hand. She was completely lost in sexual bliss, a flaming ball of pleasure and power building deep inside her. She spread her legs wide, crouched in a low squat as her hand moved faster and faster over her sensitive clit. Impulsively she tore away her shorts, unleashing a steady flow of sticky juices over the cement floor. At last she climaxed, screaming desperately as her body exploded in ecstasy. The gigantic weight felt like a child's toy as she clutched it to her chest, barely able to keep herself from slamming it into the floor.

Finally opening her eyes, Hailey stared in bemusement at the thick layer of her cum which coated the basement floor, and at the imprints of her fingers in the titanium-alloy barbell. She carefully set it back in its place, then turned to the doorway to see Richard standing there. He was completely naked, his dick tantalizingly long and hard. With a wicked smile, Hailey slowly walked toward him. "So," she whispered, "now that I'm ten times stronger, what can I do for you?"

* * * * * * *

The next few days took on their own surreal routine. Hailey would leave the house about mid-morning, the basement weight room no longer suitable for her needs. She refused to tell Richard where she was going, promising only that he would get a private demonstration "when the time was right."

This left Richard plenty of time to dig up everything he could find on Succubus. There was no shortage of information; the question was just how much of it to believe. There were the news reports, which were at least trustworthy but seldom shed any light on anything other than the obvious...

ARMY HAS NO ANSWER FOR SUPERWOMAN

---- In what is becoming a familiar scene, the being known as 'Succubus' routed a military attack unit yesterday. Eyewitness reports are claiming the superwoman withstood countless rounds of armor-piercing ammunition, and merely laughed as she was fired upon by rocket launchers and tanks. She then proceeded to lift an Abrams tank entirely from the ground, deforming it severely in her hands, and hurled it over a mile. One hundred seventy-two men were killed, most after being subjected to sexual contact with the woman.

It went on and on. But aside from her incredible strength, invulnerability, and voracious and lethal sexual appetite, he could her nothing about Succubus from journalistic sources. However, several thriving internet communities were offering theories on her origin, genetic makeup, and--most interestingly to Richard--weaknesses.

Some of these sites bordered on complete fantasy, while others seemed dedicated to worshiping the evil creature. One even featured a sign-up page where a devoted fan could add his name to the list of men willing to offer themselves to her.

But others were more useful. One university professor offered a detailed analysis of Succubus' similarity to characters in Greek and Roman mythology, right down to her seeming inexplicable need for sex with lesser beings. Another site speculated on the theory of evolution and suggested that she was an example of favorable mutation.

Each day Hailey would return home in the afternoon, looking stronger and sexier than ever, and announce that she was starving and horny as hell. After a quick but filling meal, which Richard quickly learned to have ready and waiting, they would make love as many times as possible. The first time was always fast and hard, Hailey screaming and tearing the bed apart as Richard did his best just to keep up. But after the initial whirlwind would come tender affection and prolonged pleasure, each of them pleasing the other slowly and thoroughly, building up to climax after climax late into the night. Hailey's attentions to Richard were mind-blowing in their multiplicity and intensity. Whether she was sliding his sensitive shaft between her firm, silky breasts or taking him deep into her hot and hungry mouth, she could always get him hard again no matter how many times he had cum. And Richard loved nothing more than returning these favors by lovingly worshiping every inch of Hailey's rapidly developing body, kissing his way along her long, luscious legs, over her round breasts as they rose and fell in time with her gasps of pleasure, down her hard, rippling stomach and finally sinking his face between her thighs for as long as she could stand it. But in the end she would always seize him beneath his arms and pull his body to hers, needing his hard cock to satisfy her deepest needs. Over the years he had developed incredible stamina, but this week pushed him farther than ever before.

* * * * * * *

It was time.

At last Hailey had completed her inconceivable regimen, and was ready to take on Succubus. But first, she had a promise to keep.

She had instructed Richard to meet her here, at a remote construction site where she had done most of her working out during the past few days. The foreman was an old acquaintance, and when she had explained to him what she wanted and why, he had laughed heartily, thinking she was joking. When she gave a small demonstration, of course, he had stopped laughing and promptly announced to his crew that they all had the week off.

She watched Richard pull off the highway into the dusty parking area. She assumed a suitably heroic pose as he got out of the car, wondering what his reaction would be.

She was wearing her new uniform, which she hadn't really spent a lot of time on. It was just a one-piece swimsuit, actually--plain white, simple design--but every superhero needs an outfit. She had added a thin black belt and knee-high boots, white also, and she thought it looked reasonably comic-bookish. The suit was cut low in the chest to show just a little cleavage, but not too much...the heroes weren't supposed to be as slutty as the villains.

Richard clearly liked it. He was jogging up to her with a surprised grin. "Wow, you look fantastic!"

She smiled and gave him a small kiss. "Glad you could make it. Sit back and enjoy the show."

Richard shrugged and settled himself on the ground as his wife jogged a short distance away, to where a large crane was parked on level ground. With a knowing smile, Hailey bent at the waist, wiggling her perfect ass at Richard, and wedged her fingers under the massive vehicle's treads.

With a slight creak, the entire crane began to rise from the ground. Richard gaped in complete astonishment. Even though he had known she would be this strong--much stronger, he reminded himself--seeing it in person was mind-boggling. So much weight being effortlessly lifted by a human being, let alone his small, shapely wife, simply looked wrong. It was as if tricks were being played on his eyes.

But this was no trick. His wife smoothly raised the enormous vehicle up over her head, then balanced the weight on a single hand and waved to him with the other. He gulped and waved back.

It was then that the huge iron hook, which hung from the crane's arm on a heavy-duty chain, began to lower slowly toward the ground. Shocked, Richard looked up at the cab and realized for the first time that there was someone in the vehicle. But Hailey had clearly anticipated this, and was extending her arm to reach for the hook as it came down toward her. Finally it was in her grasp, and she placed her small hand over the top of the thick, curving metal.

"Okay," she called to the driver.

A moment later, the crane began to retract the hook back up. A look of concentration settled on Hailey's beautiful features as she balanced the crane in one hand while keeping hold of the hook in the other. Her elbow bent, she was obviously applying more and more force to keep the hook in place while the crane was attempting to reel it back in.

Her consternation, though, was obviously not due to any effort required to resist the force of the crane. Rather, her greatest difficulty was keeping the crane itself balanced against its own pull. Eventually she had to lower it gently to the ground, her knees bending gracefully until the treads were once again resting on the dirt and she could straighten back up. Still, she needed only the strength of one arm to hold the hook in place. The crane's motor was beginning to whine with effort.

After another moment, she reached up and placed a hand as high as she could against the side of the crane. Clearly, it could still tip over if it pulled hard enough against her immoveable arm. She seemed to have stabilized it now though, and soon the crane was pouring on all the force it could muster. Richard watched in awe as his wife's smooth, feminine arm, still not showing any sign of strain, held the hook in place as the heavy chain above her began to crack and groan.

Hailey gave him another seductive smirk as her arm began to straighten, allowing the hook to rise a foot or two. Then she smoothly pulled it back down again, drawing a loud wail from the motor. Suddenly Richard realized that the chain links were not going to hold, and tried to call out, but a loud snap drowned his voice as the chain finally gave way. Several of the huge links tumbled down toward Hailey's head. But she had anticipated even this, and smiled as she caught them easily.

She wasn't done, though. Strutting casually back to Richard, she held up the massive hook with its oversized chain. It looked even larger up close, the individual chain links almost the size of her torso and the hook at least a foot thick. Standing directly over him, Hailey began to push it together, closing the hook into a circle. The metal moaned loudly, but the feat seemed to require no effort whatsoever from Hailey; she simply smiled placidly as her hands overpowered the solid iron. Adjusting her grip, she then pulled it back apart, restoring its original shape, then pulled farther until the hook was more or less straightened out.

Next, she placed her hands on the center, where the iron was thickest. She was holding the former hook out in front of her at arms' length, her elbows locked. With one hand on top of the metal and the other beneath, she moved her hands together, compressing the iron between her palms. Within seconds the foot of iron separating her hands was reduced to about an inch. Still she showed no effort, smiling like a fashion model the entire time. Richard's dick was so hard he was afraid he would explode at any second.

Still she wasn't done. She let the mangled hook drop to the ground and grabbed one of the chain links. With one hand she tore away the chain on either side, leaving just one loop of iron to play with. Placing her hands at either end of it, she began to twist. The loop curved in on itself once, twice, three times. To her it appeared easier than playing with playdough. Now the twisted metal was twisting around itself again and again, until she was holding nothing more than a lump of iron. And still she kept twisting it, twisting a solid mass of iron over and over. For the finale, she held the disfigured lump against her stomach, and with one hand, slowly, smoothly flattened it against herself.

As she was finishing, the crane driver came walking toward them. "Thanks Frank," Hailey said with a kind smile.

"No, thank you," Frank replied. "Now you get that Succubus bitch good."

"I will," Hailey grinned. Frank gave a nod to Richard and left.

"Wow," Richard gasped at last when they were alone. "Honey, that was...unbelievable..."

Hailey smiled and extended her hand. "Thanks. You like the outfit?"

Richard gripped her soft hand and felt himself lifted easily to his feet. "Love it!"

Pursing her lips and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Hailey softly asked, "Wanna take it off?"

They made slow, passionate love right there in the dirt, their bodies intertwining and rolling back and forth, kissing as if it might be the last time.

* * * * * * *

Hailey wasted no time. The next day, as soon as it was reported where Succubus had appeared for her daily assault on the male population, Hailey was off like a shot.

For a short minute, Richard paced nervously back and forth across the living room. Then, telling himself there was no way he was just going to sit and watch it on TV while his wife risked her life, he ran to the car and followed.

As usual, Succubus was drawing as much attention as she possibly could. Standing naked in the center of a city block, surrounded by overturned cars and cracked pavement, she was grabbing every man she could get her hands on and literally fucking them to death. Some seemed to go willingly, others were just too slow or too stupid to get out of her way. None of them lasted longer than a few seconds.

Hailey walked slowly and (she hoped) confidently toward the evil seductress. As she watched, Succubus impaled herself on another hard cock and simply sucked the life out of her victim. She seemed to enjoy it, but each man she raped just left her wanting more. Finally she raised her glazed eyes and saw the white-clad heroine striding to meet her.

"Oh, a woman?" she growled. "Not usually my thing. But you're pretty attractive, aren't you? Alright, come here and let me have a taste!"

Her voice was sultry and sweet; her eyes seemed to see right into Hailey's deepest longings. Hailey felt her nipples growing hard as she came closer. She knew she want to land the first blow, but her enemy wasn't threatening her yet. Just leaning forward for a kiss...

Before she knew what was happening, their lips were touching, then pressing together. Intense pleasure was coursing through her body; she was shaking; she couldn't think. She knew she had to pull away but would she ever feel this good again?

Finally she broke the kiss and staggered back. Shaking her head to clear it, she looked up and realized that Succubus, too, was heaving deep breaths and staring back at her in amazement.

"Damn, honey...what are you?"

Hailey cleared her throat and sneered. "My name is Hailstorm. I'm here to put a stop to this."

Succubus laughed, although hesitantly. "Oh, I don't know about that darling..."

But she got no further before Hailey unleashed a blow to her stomach which knocked her back 30 feet into a parked car. Instantly her face transformed into a mask of rage. She rushed back at Hailey and threw a punch at her face. Instinctively Hailey caught the punch as it came at her. Both women froze.

"Interesting," Hailey chuckled. Blocking the punch had been more of a challenge than, say, stopping a train would have been, but not that difficult.

But Succubus quickly recovered and pounded her other fist into Hailey's stomach. She hadn't been expecting it, and was knocked back a few steps. Her face showed no pain, however, and Succubus was wincing. Hitting those abs was like hitting a brick wall.

Hailey had no doubts now. She reached out and grabbed her adversary by the collar, hurled her through the air. Succubus slammed into the side of a building and dropped to the ground.

"Damn, honey..." she said again, coughing. "Would I love to fuck you..."

"I'm flattered," Hailey said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "but I think I'd rather kill you." She reached down and pulled Succubus to her feet again.

"No..." Succubus whispered, recognition dawning in her eyes. "What I need is the man that fucks you. And he's here, isn't he?"

Hailey shook her head, but out of the corner of her eye she suddenly realized she saw Richard's car swinging around the corner. Involuntarily she gasped, "Richard! No!"

In the split second that she took her eyes away from Succubus, the venomous vixen locked her lips over Hailey's again. This time the kiss was much more intense, their tongues wrestling as their bodies shook once more with pleasure beyond either of their wildest dreams. Hailey felt herself blacking out, but couldn't pull away. Her body convulsed in a mind-blowing orgasm and she collapsed to the ground.

As though through a fog, or as if she was dreaming, Hailey watched Succubus stagger towards Richard's car, obviously overwhelmed with pleasure herself. The superbitch tore away the metal roof of the vehicle, then yanked off the door. Hailey felt powerless to do anything, as if she had been drugged. Succubus was tearing off her husband's clothes; she was licking her lips as she straddled him; she was sighing with pleasure as his thick, hard shaft slid deep into her cunt.

Succubus was fucking her man.

From somewhere in her throat, Hailey heard a voice, barely recognizable as her own, roar out. "GET YOUR FILTHY CLAWS OFF OF MY HUSBAND!!!!!"

She was staggering to her feet, lunging toward the car. It was hard to keep her balance. She fell to her knees. Succubus was moaning and gasping; the car was shaking. Hailey couldn't see Richard's face. She forced herself to get up again, shook her head to clear her vision. The sight of Succubus' body, naked and perfect, glistening sweat and shuddering with pleasure, straddling the man she loved, filled her with burning fury. Her vision was literally turning red. She screamed with rage again and ran toward the car.

Richard's face was contorted with pain, but he was still alive. Hailey barely registered this before her hands closed around the bitch's throat. She had no plan, no strategy; she was insane with hate. If Succubus' throat had been a telephone pole, it would have been splinters inside of a second. But it was stronger, and she writhed and wheezed as her face began to turn purple. But still her hips kept thrusting against Richard. Hailey squeezed harder, trying to pull her away from her husband, but her thighs were locked tight around Richard's hips. Succubus was blue now, and getting paler. She obviously could no longer draw any breath at all, and yet her hips were bucking harder than ever. Richard moaned; he couldn't take much more.

With a loud roar, Hailey poured every ounce of strength she had earned over the past week into her hands. She watched the life slowly leave the evil face before her, and, turning her head, she saw color returning to Richard's face.

Tossing aside the lifeless body of Succubus and ignoring the cheers of the crowd around her, Hailey carefully gathered her husband into her arms and whispered into his ear, "It's okay. She's gone now."

"I know," he breathed.

If she was a true superhero, Hailey mused, she would gracefully fly up into the air and carry her man back to her secret hideout. Unfortunately, she had to drive their roofless, doorless car through the debris-strewn street and back to their humble home. "Oh well," she smiled. "At least I got the villain." Richard smiled at her from the passenger seat, looking much better already. She hoped he would be ready by for her the time they got home.

* * * * * * *

The End.