"Hey there! Where you at girl?" Mary asked, bringing Linda back to her senses. She had been looking beyond Mary, out into space -- literally. She was looking through the cafe walls, beyond the buildings of Metropolis University, right on out into outer-space.
"I was just thinking about home," Linda said, then she laughed. "Funny huh? I mean, all my friends and family are right here, and I never felt so free and happy as I do right now, but I feel like my heart is tugging me home."
"You better put a leash around that heart of yours, 'cause nostalgia ain't none of what its cracked up to be," Mary said with her finger pointed right in Linda's face, making her quiver and nod her head in agreement. "This is your new home now! Hell, you've been here a year already -- how can you even remember your old home? From what ya've told me, why would you want to remember it?"
"I don't know," Linda replied quietly, but she didn't want to tell Mary that just being with her made Linda feel a little like she was back at home.
Back in Argo City, Linda (or Kara) had been just barely a woman at 17, and that meant she had two strikes against her. Her native culture was strongly patriarchal, and extremely disciplinary towards its youth. These traditional attitudes became all the stronger with the intense pressures of a doomed society, so that even Kara's father, Zor-el who loved her more than his own life, would strike her without thinking if she disobeyed him.
What a surprise it was when she arrived in Metropolis, where women and men were nearly equals, and the professors never talked down to their students. Linda had always dreamed of such a place, but she could never quite get used to being told to think for herself and assert herself.
"Oh, shit!" Mary suddenly cried out, causing Linda to jump up in her seat.
Everyone in the cafe seemed to jump at once, when a young bearded man, who looked a little too rough to be a college student, came charging out of the men's room waving a knife in the air.
Hurrying after him was another man, also waving a knife.
That's what everyone saw.
Everyone but Linda, that is.
Linda was stunned by the sight of this second man, who had long dark hair, and an imposing chin. He wore an old black jacket that had long since lost it's shine, fashionably torn jeans, and a sparkling white t-shirt, no design. He looked so much like many of the young, angry men she remembered from back in Argo City that she couldn't take her eyes off of him. His eyes were fearless and fierce. His body was rippling with energy. And his boorish, simple clothing showed impeccable taste, she thought.
Even the sound of his voice transfixed her, when he cursed at the bearded man: "Stay where you are, pussy, and get what's coming to you!"
Apparently the bearded man wasn't listening as closely as Linda was, because he tried his best to get away.
He ran straight towards Linda.
Mary and everyone else scattered, clearing an escape route for the pursued man, but Linda just stood there, doing exactly as she was ordered. She stood right there, as both men charged her way, and she got what was coming to her.
A knife to her neck. The bearded man, in desperation, grabbed her, pressed the blade of his knife to her throat, and he held her between himself and the other man, the man Linda had fallen in love with in a heart beat, who stopped only a few feet away and stared into her eyes.
She felt her knees go weak and her palms wet with perspiration. Maybe these were normal reactions for someone in her delicate situation, but she was not feeling normal feelings.
"Stay the fuck away from me, or I swear I'll kill her," spat the bearded man right in her ear.
Suddenly, the other, wonderful man seemed to have forgotten his anger, and Linda searched his eyes. Was he as taken by her as she was by him? Or was he just worried for her safety, like he'd be worried for any other woman whose life was threatened? There was a third possibility that never occurred to her.
"Leave her alone . . . please!" Linda heard Mary yell.
Linda tore her eyes away from her loved one and sought out Mary. "Don't worry, Mary. He won't hurt me."
Then she felt the knife dig into her throat, and the bearded man spitting into her ear, again. "That's right, honey, if everyone doesn't back off right now, I'll gonna cut you so hard and so fast that your head'll fall right off. Won't hurt a bit."
Everyone took a step back, including her dream lover, the man with the concerned eyes. He caught the bearded man's attention, directed it towards his knife, and lowered it to the ground.
"Wise move, Sam," the voice spitted into her ear again, and Linda felt herself being pulled backwards.
Sam, Linda thought will irrational glee. She loved the name, and she repeated it over and over in her mind. Sam. Sammy. Samuel. Samu-el.
"Now we're just gonna walk slowly out of here, pretty girl, into my car," the man who wasn't Sam whispered in Linda's ear. Then he spoke more loudly for everyone to hear, "And don't anyone think of following us, if you hope to see her alive again!"
Linda felt her heart aching as she was pulled away from Sam. She saw the desperate, concerned, furious, defeated look in Sam's eyes. She hated that look. It did not fit him at all. She wanted to see the brave, confident man she saw just a few moments before.
Then, without really thinking, she knew what to do. She pretended to slip or trip over something. Her would be captor was startled, and in an effort to avoid cutting her neck accidentally, he dropped the knife.
When Linda looked up, her brave hero was on top of him, pounding his bearded face with fist after fist until Sam's hands were bloody, and the bearded man lay writhing on the floor.
"Oh my God, Linda! Are you OK?" Mary cried out as she helped Linda off of the floor.
Linda felt weak and just a little dizzy, but she nodded, "Yeah, I think so."
"Oh, God, you are so fucking lucky Linda! You should be dead right now."
Linda didn't feel so lucky. She glanced over at Sam, feeling a little sad because he seemed to have forgotten all about her. He was talking to a policeman, now, who had just arrived at the scene. Sam didn't even look at her once.
"Are you sure you are OK, Linda?" Mary asked again, looking at her carefully.
Linda looked back at Mary and nodded her head, again.
"I can't believe you got away with just this little scratch," Mary marveled.
Linda's eyes opened wide, and she gasped. "Scratch? What scratch?"
Mary consoled her, "Don't worry, it's nothing."
"He cut me?" Linda seemed panicky.
Mary touched Linda's neck and showed her a tiny drop of blood on her fingertip. "See? It's nothing. It's not even worth putting a band aid on."
This time Linda wasn't acting when her legs gave out beneath her. She felt her heart suddenly race and her mouth dry up. "What happened?" she asked to no one in particular. "He could have killed me!"
"Shh," Mary said, consoling her as best she could. "It's over now."
Linda looked in her eyes and shook her head. "No, no. He really could have killed me!"
Then Linda felt a strong hand on her shoulder. It was him, Sam. She looked up at him, caught between an irrational feeling of love that swept over her, and the sudden terror of knowing how close to death she had come. She didn't know which feeling made her feel weaker just then.
Sam glanced at Mary. "She OK?"
Mary looked back at him suspiciously, but she was polite. "I dun know. I think she's in shock."
Sam helped Linda up, and she immediately leaned into him, closing her eyes, clinging to him.
"Linda?" Mary asked, surprised. "Come on, I think maybe I should take you home."
But Linda clung tightly to Sam. Maybe she couldn't even hear Mary's voice -- at least she didn't respond to it.
All she could feel was Sam's leather jacket, smooth against her finger tips. She felt Sam's breath in her hair. She felt Sam's reluctant arms come around her and hold her.
And she felt the rising erection of Sam's dick, even through layers of clothes, brushing against her hip.
"You were very brave back there . . . Linda, right?" Sam asked gently, though he was awkward at gentleness. It didn't sound right. It almost sounded like he was teasing her.
But Linda didn't notice. She whispered, "Thank you. Thank you very much for saving me."
"Hold on, there, girl!" Mary said sternly, trying to get her friend's attention. "He didn't save you. Damn, he and that other guy nearly got you killed!"
"Hey!" Sam objected. "I never meant to hurt anyone, except that killer -- yeah! He's a killer. He killed two of my buddies, and I wanted to make sure he paid for that. But the last thing I wanted was for your friend Linda to get hurt."
Mary ignored him. "Common, Linda, let's go home."
Linda shook her head. She felt weak and scared, and she just wanted to hide. She wanted to hide in Sam's arms. She wanted to escape into his life, wherever he lived it. She wanted him, whoever he was.
And she sensed that he wanted her, too. It was not just a subtle feeling. It was hard physical reality.
"She obviously wants to be with me right now," Sam told Mary. "Maybe she needs to take a short walk to help her get over this, then I'll take her home."
Take her to Sam's home, that is. And then just take her.
Linda was shocked and confused, but she was never confused about that.
In fact, walking with him like this felt oddly familiar.
Sam was very sweet for a while. He understood that Linda had just gone through something traumatic, so he was gentle with her, holding her in a half embrace as they walked under the setting sun, away from the college, and towards his home in Metropolis. He couldn't resist letting his hand wander, feeling the side of her breast, or the curve of her ass.
Linda liked the attention, and she was thrilled that he was excited by her.
At the same time, though, she was troubled by what nearly happened. What was wrong with her? She felt very weak, even for an earth woman, and she knew from her cut that she was vulnerable. She couldn't hear beyond the normal human range, and she couldn't see through anything thicker than paper.
What happened? Would she ever get her powers back?
Sam lived in a dirty, uncared for studio apartment, out of character with his good taste in clothes. He hung pictures of beautiful women on his walls, all of them nude, all of them in compromising positions. Upon seeing them, Linda crossed her arms in front of herself. Another wave of dizziness swept over her, and she had to reach out to Sam for support.
Beer cans were lined up around the room, like they were decorations. Carelessly tossed among them were a few trophies -- she couldn't tell what they were for.
Linda noticed a tray of kitty litter, so she knew there must be a cat around, but she couldn't see him anywhere.
Laying out in the center of the small apartment was a double bed, unmade, with sheets that couldn't have been cleaned in weeks. Linda didn't want to look at it. She didn't really want to look at anything in this room, which seemed so hostile to her.
Except for Sam, whose arm sheltered her, and who looked at her warmly. Maybe a little too warmly. The arm that sheltered her also explored her, brashly stroking her breast through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra, so he had easy access to her nipple.
She wasn't wearing her Supergirl uniform, either. She almost never wore it under her clothes, anymore, because it was impossible to hide while trying to be fashionable. Instead, she kept it folded up in her purse.
"My purse!" Linda cried out, as Sam's hand tried to slip under her shirt. She pulled away slightly.
"What about it?" he asked with a hint of amusement, perhaps thinking that Linda was gonna try to play a little hard to get, a little too late.
"I left it in the cafe," she replied, backing away slowly from Sam, who was walking towards her, even though she was only a few inches away.
"We have to go get it," Linda insisted unconvincingly, as Sam backed her into the wall. She straightened up instantly. Her eyes were captured by the eyes of her predator.
"Why? What's in it?"
That shut Linda up. She couldn't tell him that.
But he wanted to make sure she stopped talking, so he filled her mouth with his tongue.
She couldn't even think about the purse now, as wave after wave of sensation filled her body, exciting her, paralyzing her.
Finally Sam went for her shirt, lifting it quickly, while still kissing Linda, muting any possible objections. Far from object, Linda made his job easier by lifting her arms.
Off came the shirt.
And off came the wig.
Linda didn't even notice until Sam paused and stared at her in awe and recognition.
"What?" she asked a little panicked, thinking she knew exactly what.
He shook his head, and said, "You look so familiar."
He took a step back and looked her over, the blonde hair, the stunning face, and the round, firm breasts.
"Damn, you are hot!" he said. "You look just like one of the Penthouse Pets Of The Month from last year, I think, but I can't remember which one."
Linda sighed, and he interpreted that as an invitation to escalate -- not that Sam would have waited for an invitation, anyway, she thought.
He nearly swallowed her nipple, sucking it hard, making Linda gasp, as he fumbled with her shorts and panties, pushing them down together until they stopped at her sneakers. She slipped her feet out of the loose fitting sneakers, and he slid her garments completely off, leaving her completely naked, except for a pair of socks.
Then, to Linda's shock, Sam grabbed her shoulders roughly and tossed her on the bed. She hit the firm mattress with a smack, sending a concussion through her not- so-super body that was almost painful, but strangely exciting.
Sam grabbed her legs and forced them open, making Linda gasp with surprise. Her eyes were half open with anticipation. She wanted for him to touch her, to taste her, to tease her with his tongue. That was the kind of love- making she had become accustomed to, since she had landed on earth a year ago. Good old fashioned intercourse was forbidden, because of the harm a pussy-of-steel could do to an ordinary man's dick.
But Sam did not know about that. He dove right in, and started pumping away, putting all of his strength into each thrust.
Linda cried out and shivered, stunned by the impact of this man's dick, which bottomed out deep inside her, and rubbed against her pussy, which was not yet ready for him. At the same time, his chest crashed down on her's, making it hard for her to breath smoothly, and his chin bumped against her cheek. All of his force was concentrated into an instant, like a boxer, who concentrates the full weight of his body into every punch.
But after several seconds, Linda's pussy started flowing, and adjusting to his size. In her growing excitement, that pain started feeling good. Really good.
She could hear his excitement growing. She could feel it, too, as he started fucking even faster and harder.
She tried to meet his thrusts with her own. Now, she couldn't get enough of him fast enough. The aching in her pussy now expanded to her belly, as though a pressure was growing within her, like the warning tremors before an earthquake.
She threw her head back. She might have said some thing or even cried out, but she wasn't aware of it. Her whole body convulsed and twisted, and tears squeezed from her eyes, as she came hard, more intensely than ever before.
The wonderful assault on her body continued for a few more seconds, almost making her come again, when Sam slowed and pushed in as deep as he could, moaning something, and then unloading his passion.
Linda felt so very, gloriously weak, now, immobilized by the aftershocks. She felt totally at peace, totally in love. She wanted to kiss him and hold him. She felt so close to him after what they just shared.
But he just rolled off and lay beside her.
He must have been exhausted, she thought, after all he had done most of the work.
"Damn!" he finally said, "you are so fucking hot!"
She reached out and held his hand. He didn't object to that, and she was happy.
But it lasted for less than a minute. Then, Sam sat up and started getting dressed.
"Sorry, babe, but I forgot something. I have to go."
Linda looked confused.
He continued getting dressed and didn't look at her, "I'll be back in an hour or two, ready to fuck your sweet pussy again."
Linda sat up, saying, "But ...", then trailing off into nothing. That's what she suddenly felt like: nothing.
Then suddenly she saw his eyes change, just for a second. He almost looked kind.
"Hey, babe, I'm really sorry, I really have to go. Make yourself at home. Do me a favor? I've got a full fridge. Make something for when I get back. You know, nothing too fancy. Maybe some spaghetti or hamburgers."
Linda nodded, though she had never used a stove before in her life.
She heard him pouring something in the other room before he left. "Hey cat, come an' get it! ," he yelled, and a small patched cat appeared from under the bed and ran into the other room.
Then Sam was gone.
She was all alone. Except for the nameless cat.
She slipped into her panties and walked into the other room. The cat looked up from his food and they just stared at each other.
Then Linda whispered to him, "Sorry little fellow, I'm the new pet of the month."
"Mary!" Linda cried, and she hurriedly removed a pair of chains from the door and let her best friend inside. "I'm so glad to see you!"
Mary stepped inside, and she glanced around at Sam's immaculately clean apartment, decorated in Linda's own, unusual style. The skin on Mary's face was tight, and her eyes bloodshot from hours of worry. "Well you'd never know by the way you've been hiding out in here. Are you okay?"
Linda nodded. She had a strong impulse to just grab Mary and hold on to her tight, but she didn't, because Mary felt uncomfortable about being touched.
"Thank God!" Mary smiled and sighed in relief. "I've been looking all over for you. I thought that maybe . . . oh, I'm just glad you're all right. I just wish you called. Did ya forget your own phone number?"
They just looked at each other for an awkward silent moment, with a hundred words and a hug or two just dying to break through the silence, but they held back.
"So . . ." Mary said, breaking eye contact. "Why all the locks on the door? The neighborhood's not all that bad. Hell, my neighborhood back home is worse than this. Are you trying to keep Sam out?"
Linda laughed almost desperately.
"Hey, no joke. The guy is scum."
"Please . . ." Linda said, and looked away.
"A few of my friends say that Sam's a pusher."
Linda looked confused.
"Yeah, you know, pushes drugs."
Linda shook her head to deny it, but really she had no idea.
"Do you love him?" Mary asked.
Linda wanted to say yes, but she couldn't. She felt something like love, but she knew it wasn't the real thing.
"If you don't love the creep, then why are you throwing your life away for him, girl? You've missed a week of classes at school. If you miss much more, you'll never make it up."
Then Mary startled Linda when she put a hand on Linda's shoulder. "And you don't look so good, neither. I've never seen you look so unhappy and sick, like he's sucking the life right out of you."
Linda couldn't meet Mary's eyes. She didn't want to have this conversation.
"Oh! You haven't seen Sam's cat," Linda said, suddenly, too desperate to change the subject to even try at subtlety. She rushed into the other room and scooped the cat up. He was still half asleep when she returned. "Isn't he really cute?"
"The guy uses people," Mary said, with eyes hard and penetrating, almost mesmerizing to Linda, forcing Linda to look away. "He's living off of your dependency. He's playing you like a game."
"Pet him, Mary," Linda said while very gently, very affectionately touching -- "him". Suddenly, she realized that "he" didn't have a name. She wasn't even sure "he" was a male.
Mary sighed, and decided to try something else. "OK, Linda," she said while reaching out to touch the cat, but she retreated when he hissed at her. "Can we sit down while we talk?"
Linda nodded and led Mary into the living area, where they sat down side by side on the sofa.
"So what's he like?"
"He doesn't usually hiss like that, I --"
"Dammit, Linda, I'm talking about Sam."
"Oh," Linda said, and then shut up again.
"What's he like in bed," Mary said with an edge of teasing.
Linda smiled, feeling a little more comfortable. "Oh, he's ... wild. He says I make him crazy. He thinks I'm pretty."
Mary nodded. "That just proves he's not blind, Linda. How does he make you feel? Do you like it wild?"
"Oh, yeah, it almost hurts, but, you know, it feels so good," Linda said, while still petting the cat.
"Then why do you look so fucking unhappy?" Mary said, shocking Linda. "What do you do afterwards? Do you sleep in each other's arms?"
Linda shook her head.
"Does he ever make you feel special? Does he ever do anything for you? Or does he make you do everything for him? Hell, Linda, does he have you doing his laundry, cooking his food, cleaning up after him?"
Linda couldn't speak. She pet the cat desperately, cooing him, cooing herself, but she couldn't hold back the tears anymore.
Mary was right, Linda finally admitted. Mary had stayed for almost an hour convincing her, consoling her, and encouraging her to leave Sam right away and come home with her. But Linda couldn't do that. She couldn't just walk out on Sam without at least saying goodbye. Mary said that saying goodbye wasn't a good idea. Call him, she said, Say goodbye from home. Linda couldn't do that. Then let me stay with you, Mary insisted, until he gets home. Linda couldn't do that either. She still loved Sam, and she couldn't treat him bad. But she knew Mary was right. She had to leave him. Loving him was killing her. He was as bad for her as Kryptonite.
So she waited there in the living room, stroking the cat, comforting him, saying that everything was OK, the way that she wished someone would comfort her right now.
How would she tell him? She didn't have a clue, and that was bad. This was so hard to do, but it was almost impossible without a plan. She would tell him right away. No, she would tell him after having sex. He was much less irritable then. That was it. It was decided. Tonight, in bed.
"Tonight," She whispered to the cat. He was her witness. "Tonight."
"Heeey baby!" Sam yelled out, full of cheer, when he walked through the door that night. His right hand was tucked behind his back. Linda tried to see what he was hiding, but her vision wasn't what it used to be. She may even need glasses, the way things were.
"You look really happy," Linda said, almost as a question. Sam only smiled a few times since Linda had known him, and it was usually a wicked sort of smile. But this smile was genuinely happy.
And he expressed his pleasure in a most wonderful way when he produced a single red rose from behind his back and held it out for Linda to take. He didn't warn her about the thorns, and the flower looked like it had been twisted off from a plant in somebody's garden. It wasn't even a very pretty rose, having signs of decay on the outer petals. But Linda didn't care about that. All her sadness, all her desperation, and all her fears seemed to wash away when she held the flower in her hands. This was a sign that he loved her. It wasn't much, but it was something. For almost a week she had been begging for a sign of his love, or even just a hint of affection, and now she had it. He just didn't know how to express it very well most of the time, and maybe he hurt her at times, but if he could do something this nice, she could forgive him. She had to forgive him. She couldn't help it.
"Oh, it's beautiful!" Linda cried, and she tried to kiss him.
But he moved away, as if kissing her would spoil his good mood. "Guess what happened today! That sonofabitch who killed some of my buddies -- you know, the guy who almost shredded your throat in the cafe. Well, the cops fuckin' put him away, and they threw away the key!"
Linda tried to share in Sam's excitement. "Oh, that's great! No one was safe with someone like him around."
Sam looked at her kind of funny, as if she didn't have a clue about anything. "Yeah, well, I'm so fuckin' happy that I feel like celebrating."
Linda smiled.
Sam looked in the kitchen. "Hey, you didn't cook any dinner."
Linda's smile dropped like a rock. She had forgotten about dinner, while she had planned her departure tonight, but she couldn't tell Sam that. Not now.
Sam was in such a good mood he wouldn't let that little detail spoil it. "Hmm, that's OK, I wasn't thinking of eating in anyway. How does my little pet feel about a little dinner and dance?"
Linda's face lit up like a bulb. She was so happy she couldn't contain herself. Her whole body shivered, as she wanted to just reach out and hold Sam tight.
Her emotions burned so brightly that they even warmed Sam's heart, while hardening another part of his body.
"You are so fucking gorgeous, you know that?" Sam said. "You're as hot as any of those babes in the magazines."
It wasn't exactly what Linda had hoped to hear, but it felt really good all the same, knowing that maybe it was the biggest compliment that Sam knew how to give her. "Thanks," she said, as she averted her eyes shyly.
"You know. . ." Sam started as he reached into his bureau. "We've got more than an hour to waste before we can go out tonight," he said, returning with a camera in his hands. "How would you like to be a centerfold for a night?"
She surprised herself by nodding quickly. Was that really what she wanted to do, or would she do just about anything to please him?
No, she suddenly realized, it was what she wanted to do. She wanted to be smothered by his attention. She wanted to lose herself in his fantasy. She wanted to see the desire in his eyes. She wanted to feel sexy.
And that's how she felt right now, as she sat on the bed, quickly down to just panties and a bra. Sexy.
Sam wasted only 3 exposures of 36 so far. He took one picture when she removed her blouse. One picture for her skirt. And one for her pantyhose. He was saving the rest for the good stuff.
"OK," Sam said, like a director on a movie set, "Keep strokin' your cunt, but with your other hand squeeze your tit through the bra. Keep looking at the camera. Yeah, that's it. Mmm. Now, squeeze it a little lower. No,no. Squeeze it so the tit comes out, and I can see your nipple. Yeah, yeah, that's fuckin' hot!"
Linda felt a little embarrassed at first, but then she was just feeling really hot and excited. She wanted to take her soaking panties off so bad, and touch her pussy directly. But she knew Sam was as eager as she, and he would get around to it soon enough -- as soon as she was so hot she couldn't take it anymore!
For the moment, he just wanted to take those pictures and tease her along. The flash blinded her, when Sam captured the unveiling of another nipple on film.
"OK," he said, "Off with the bra completely."
Linda struggled with it for a second, and Sam impatiently grabbed it and tore it off of her body in a tremendous yank, the impact scratching her back and arms, and shaking her body, making her feel totally awake and totally excited.
Sam was losing patience now. At first, he truly seemed to be trying to take good pictures, but now any artistic desires he might have had gave way to simpler desires. "Let me see you naked now."
Linda eased out of the panties, and lay back down on the bed, her face flushed red, her whole body tingling, and her glistening pussy shining up at Sam's face.
Sam tossed the camera onto the floor and kneeled between her legs at the end of the bed. He grabbed Linda's ass with both hands and plunged his tongue into her. Linda gasped in surprise. Sam licked all around, and when Linda started to moan, he finger-fucked her while he sucked on her clit.
Linda cried out in total joy. Sam had never seemed to care about how she felt before, but now he was doing this just for her, out of his love for her. "Oh, Sam . . . oh" Her fingers buried in his hair. Her feet resting on his shoulders. While his expert hands and tongue worked on her pussy. Then, unexpectedly, one of his fingers slipped into her asshole, fucking her there, too. Her whole body was on fire, tingling, electric. She was lost, all of her fears washed away, and her love growing stronger, stronger, no longer pining away . . .
"FUCKING BITCH!" Sam yelled as he struggled to break free.
In the next moment, Linda's whole body came crashing down from the bed onto the floor. She didn't feel any pain. She didn't even notice that she was off the bed. She only noticed the anger in Sam's voice.
"What's wrong, Sam?" She asked in daze.
Sam sneered at her. "You bitch! Why the fuck were you squeezing my head so hard?"
Linda shook her head. "Oh, Sam, I didn't mean to."
"Come here, cunt. I'll teach you to get rough with me!" Sam grabbed Linda's hair and lifted her head up to his dick. Linda didn't fight him. She took him into her mouth. He twisted her hair in his fingers so it hurt. "Have a taste of your own medicine," he said.
Linda felt torn inside out, first feeling wonderful, and now feeling terribly guilty and weak. Sam had been making love to her, making her feel like she was in heaven! And she paid him back by hurting him with a sudden burst of strength. All she wanted to do now was make up for it. She wanted to make Sam feel as good as he had made her feel just a minute ago. She wanted to make him forget what she had just done to him. She wanted to make this the best blow job he'd ever had. She sucked on his dick with care, licking his full length, and circling his dick with her tongue, caressing him with her mouth.
But Sam wasn't feeling slow and gentle at the moment. He grabbed Linda's head firmly and started pumping hard, further than Linda could handle. He fucked her mouth violently, slamming into the back of her throat. She would certainly have vomited if she had any food in her stomach. Finally he came, and when the saltiness filled her mouth, Linda just wanted to spit it out.
"No, bitch, suck it all up. Swallow it. Lick it clean."
And Linda did. Somehow.
Sam let go of her hair, and she fell back flat on the floor, and she couldn't help it, she started crying. How could he treat her like this?
"Yeah, go ahead, cry. That will teach you to play rough with me." Sam said, as he zipped up his pants. "And forget about that dinner and dance. I'm not in the mood anymore."
Sam disappeared out of the house.
"What is this, Grand Center Station?"
"Central," Clark said as he walked into Sam's apartment. "Grand Central Station."
"Give me a break," Linda said bitterly as she led Clark into the living room area. "I've only been on this world for a year. Have a seat."
Clark eyed Linda carefully. "I would ask you how you're doing, but it's quite obvious."
Linda looked away, ashamed to meet his gaze. "Hey, I asked you to give me a break . . ."
Clark shook his head. "Not a chance. You've got to give yourself a break. Dump this guy."
"How did you know about Sam?"
"Mary called me at the Planet," Clark said solemnly, taking hold of Linda's hand. "She's very concerned. At first I wasn't too worried. I mean, what kind of serious trouble could a super-girl get into? But then she told me that someone cut you . . . so I came down here right away. Is it true? Have you lost your powers?"
Linda nodded. "Sometimes I feel a quick burst of strength. Sometimes I can see through paper and clothes."
"Wow!" Clark was amazed.
"But I'm afraid I've lost them forever," Linda said, sounding sadder than she realized.
"Oh, no, no, you'll get them back," Clark said without hesitation. "I've gone though similar spells myself, but I've never lost my powers completely or for more than a minute or two."
"You've never told me that!" Linda said with a sudden touch of anger in her voice. "I could have used some warning. I almost got killed because I didn't know about it."
Clark looked a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Kara, but it's . . . it's just not the kind of thing I like to talk about. Besides, I didn't think it would affect you."
Linda eyed him curiously. "Because?"
"Because, well, you're a girl. A woman. I thought it was something that affected only us superguys. Besides, I didn't think the reaction could be so extreme."
"So . . . it's a sexual reaction?" Linda pushed.
Clark nodded. "Partly, though it not predictable. Sometimes sex can even make me feel stronger -- as if I really needed any more sexual energy in bed!"
Linda smiled at this.
"But sometimes . . . an attractive woman can send me into a daze. I remember this one time when I was doing some charity work. I was carrying people around Metropolis, $200 per trip, and all the money went towards some charity or other. Many of the people were women. Many were attractive. Some even seemed infatuated with me. But one woman was different.
"She was dressed all up in country garb, like the women in Smallville. But she looked really good in it. I mean she looked hot, even in plain clothes.
"About halfway through the trip she started to move around in my arms. You know how I hold people when I carry them in my arms, right? Well, she tried to make the most of it by rubbing her ass against my shorts. Then her shirt came completely open. She made it look like an accident, as though a button snapped, but it was no accident. When I pretended not to notice, she grabbed my head and gave me one hell of a nice kiss. She even reached down with her hand to feel if I had a hard-on."
"Well," Linda said naughtily. "Did you?"
"Nope. That's the funny thing about it. I thought I'd be as hard as a rock. Harder, even, considering how she turned me on. But nothing. And she was pretty disappointed, too, no doubt thinking that I was unfazed. Little did she know how close she came to killing herself. Maybe me, too. I was so stunned by . . . her, that I had lost control and we were plummeting towards the earth. I don't think she knew what was happening. She probably just thought the ride was over and I was coming in for an exciting landing. But somehow I composed myself in time.
"I called the rest of the charity event off, under the pretense that some emergency was taking place, and I had to be there, but really I was just shaken up by what happened - - by what almost happened."
Linda nodded. "That must have been pretty scary, having you power's stripped away like that."
Clark put one arm around Linda's shoulders. "You should know. It was pretty scary, but not as scary as what you're going through. You have to leave him."
Linda squirmed in his half embrace. "It's not that easy," she said evasively. She didn't want to talk about it. "I mean, what's so bad about being a normal girl? What's so bad about being like everyone else."
Clark nodded. "True, I've had the same fantasy. Not having to worry about saving the world, not hearing people's cries for help when I'm home reading a book, and not having to lie all the time about my powers. But there are good things about having powers, too. Sometimes it feels wonderful."
"I've never thought so," Linda said, looking sad, like a little girl who didn't fit in at school.
Clark smiled. "Never? Sometimes I think the only times I've seen you truly happy was when you were flying around, saving people, showing off."
"I never showed off," Linda smiled shyly, wondering if Clark really knew what he was talking about.
"Bullshit. I've seen the way you've teased some of the attractive men you've saved, even though it really wasn't an appropriate time to do it."
"Oh, you liar! I never do that!" Linda looked genuinely stunned.
"Bullshit again. You even flirted with that reporter from channel five, who just wanted to interview you."
"That's just your opinion. You just think whenever a girl is being friendly she's flirting."
"No, I don't. Friendly is friendly. I just get suspicious when a girl wears skin tight costumes that show her nipples clearly through the fabric."
Linda shrugged. "You can only see the nipples when . . . they are hard."
"Which is most of the time," Clark finished, "probably because you get so excited by teasing all the boys who just stand around, mouth agape, looking at you like you were a goddess, when you swoop down and stop a crime."
"Oh, stop it!"
"But don't worry, I'm sure their dicks are as hard as your nipples. They can't help it, because they are wondering if you are wearing anything under that extremely small miniskirt you wear -- because they never seem to see any white."
Now Linda looked really embarrassed. "You know?"
"Oh, you do a great job of hiding it, by crossing your legs slightly when you fly, and being careful whenever the wind blows. Every once in a while you let people have a glimpse, but never long enough for people to be sure what they saw. Maybe you don't even know, but guys are always talking about it, speculating. They even have a news group on the internet called alt.sex.supergirl.skirtflirt, which is dedicated to revealing the truth, preferably with a photo as proof."
Linda's face was completely crimson. She was caught. "I'm . . . I'm sorry."
Clark shrugged. "Oh, don't be sorry. It's not like you are running around naked or anything like that, and seem to get a real kick out of making people guess. But what I don't understand is: why did you think you could fool me?"
Linda teased him right back, "Maybe I just thought you'd never look."
Clark straightened his collar. "Why wouldn't I look? Sometimes it's hard not to notice things when you've got x- ray vision."
"It's hard, all right," Linda said with admiration as she looked at Clark's lap.
Clark sat up straight. "Hey, I thought you lost your powers."
Linda nodded. "I told you my vision comes and goes, depending how I feel."
"So how do you feel?"
Linda sighed and thought about it. "I feel OK right now. You've really cheered me up. Thanks."
"You're welcome. But you know what will really cheer you up, don't you? Dump this asshole, you'll feel much happier, and your powers will come back."
Linda shook her head, and all the cheer left her eyes.
"Why not?" Clark said quietly.
She shrugged. "I think I love him."
"I don't think it's love," Clark said, uncomfortable. He didn't like that she used the L-word.
Outside, someone was unlocking the apartment's door.
"And if it is love, it's a love you can do without."
"Hello, Sam," Clark said politely.
"Who the fuck are you?" Sam replied, knowing instantly that Clark was an enemy. He had a six sixth sense about enemies, like animals can sense natural disasters, and like dogs can sense fear. Maybe that sixth sense even told him that he'd better not mess with Clark, because Sam kept a safe distance.
Clark glared at him. He had been willing to be give Sam the benefit of the doubt, a chance to prove himself, but that chance was already gone, and Sam failed miserably. Clark stood up, and Linda thought Clark had already lost it. He was gonna punch Sam's face right through the wall.
But Linda quickly stood between them. She gently held Clark back with a hand to his chest, and said to Sam, "This is Clark, a friend of mine."
"Yeah," Sam said to Clark, cautiously angry, "well, Linda's my friend now, so go find another friend."
Clark couldn't believe what a prick this guy was. What the hell did Linda see in him? Clark wanted to teach him a lesson. He also wanted to kill him. The only problem was that he couldn't do both at the same time.
Before he could act, Linda urged him aside, into the kitchen. She kept a hand on his chest all the while, as if to restrain him. She felt his muscles twitching under the shirt. She was amazed that she could hold back the power of a hurricane with such a gentle touch.
"Please, Clark," She whispered. "Don't hurt him."
Clark shook his head. "I can't just stand here and watch him keep on hurting you."
Linda nodded. "I know, I'm sorry . . . I'll leave him"
Clark relaxed slightly, but he was still skeptical. "When?"
"Soon," Linda replied.
"Not good enough. You told Mary you'd leave him, too, but you didn't."
"It's not easy, Clark. Maybe I think I can change him. Maybe I can teach him how to love."
"Maybe you don't want him to change, Linda," Clark replied. "Maybe you like the way he loves."
Linda shook her head, partly to deny Clark's charges, mostly to shake the thought right out of her head, in case it was true. "No, I don't like it, Clark! But I can't just leave him. I can't hurt him that way. I have to feel right about this."
"Ok, Linda. I'm sorry. It's just that it hurts me to see you being hurt, and I keep thinking how easily you could stop the pain." Clark paused, feeling helpless and frustrated. He seemed about to say something else, but he didn't.
Instead, he hugged her, hoping his embrace would give her back a little of the strength she had lost.
After saying goodbye, Linda led Clark to the door.
Clark hoped that Sam would be just outside the kitchen, so Clark could worry him before he left with a subtle threat, but Sam had retired to the living area and was watching the TV, so Clark left without a word.
Sam was not really interested in the TV show he was watching, even though it was sweeps time, and the episode was advertised as "the TV event of the year!" No, Sam was just waiting for Clark to leave.
Was he afraid of confrontation? Linda wondered. Nah, he was just being practical. Whether Sam won or lost a fight with Clark, he might end up in jail.
So he picked a fight with Linda, instead.
"Who the fuck is `Clark'?" Sam yelled, suddenly only inches from Linda's face.
Linda realized that Clark might have heard the outburst even without his super hearing. But he didn't come running back. Linda had to fight her own fight, now.
"He's . . . a friend. He helped me get settled when I first came to America." Linda replied, struggling with the lie that was her secret identity.
Sam didn't like the sound of that at all. Clark was more than just a friend. And Sam knew there was a secret. He could sense it just in the way Linda averted her eyes and struggled with her story. Maybe they were even former lovers, he thought. He got that feeling from the way they looked at each other.
Sam had heard part of their conversation in the kitchen, and he knew that Clark was getting to her. "Don't ever let him in here again."
Linda was suddenly upset, and she demanded with eyes wide open. "Why not? He's the best friend I ever had!"
Sam hated that look of defiance in Linda's eyes. It shot through him like electricity, making his hair stand on end and his muscles quicken. The smartest thing to do right now is to play it cool, a voice told him. Calculate. Tell her that you just can't stand the thought of her with another man. Give her something to cling to.
Perhaps if he had more time to collect himself. . .
He had had time to control his temper after he found out about Mary's visit several days ago, so he came home bearing gifts, winning Linda back. He knew how to be kind, when he needed to be.
But he didn't know how to tolerate that spark of defiance in her eyes. So he hit her. With a closed fist. Hard in the face.
Linda fell down, landing flat on her ass. Her eyes were glazed over, and she covered her hurting cheek with one hand. She wasn't crying, and she wasn't afraid. She was in shock.
Sam knew immediately that he had gone too far. He had hurt her before, but not like this. He had made her feel undesirable, and he had made her feel like she deserved whatever she got. But this time, he had made her feel abused.
"Oh, damn, Linda, I'm sorry," Sam said, looking like he was telling the truth. He tried to help her up. "I don't know what came over me. I just couldn't stand the thought of losing you."
Linda accepted his help off the floor, but she shook her head at his apology. "You hit me," she said, gazing at the ground.
"Yeah, but you forced me into it." Sam replied, instantly looking for a way to turn this around, somehow -- trying to make her feel that she deserved to be hit.
Linda finally met his eyes. "I forced you to hit me? How did I do that?"
Sam felt helpless, like a cornered animal, so he lashed out, "You're always plotting behind my back. First that shit with that black bitch from school and then with this `friend' Clark, who you've probably been fucking in the afternoon when I'm off at work. You're so busy fucking that the apartment's filthy as shit, and dinner . . . dinner always tastes worse than shit."
Linda took a step back, reeling from the venom in his words, but the venom only stung -- it didn't weaken her. If anything, it made her a little angry. "Don't say things like that about Mary, and Clark is a better man than you'll ever be."
Sam grabbed Linda by the throat and pressed her against the wall. He wasn't sure what he intended to do, but he was angry enough to do just about anything.
For a moment, Linda thought Sam was gonna choke her to death, as his thumbs pressed in hard, and she could barely breath. She tried to push him away, but he was too strong. She felt her face start to tingle, her vision fade, and her legs failing beneath her. Her eyes glowed with the horror of knowing what was about to happen.
But it didn't happen. Something was taking her over, taking control, weakening the pain, strengthening her muscles, deadening the immense sadness and fear in her heart. Maybe it was her survival instinct
For a moment, it was just barely enough to keep her alive. Her throat muscles were like steel cords in Sam's hands, keeping her wind pipe open, but still she was only barely conscious.
Until her lungs filled with fresh oxygen, and her mind started thinking clearly again. It had been a long time . . .
Sam was amazed by the transformation. Her eyes changed from terror to serene judgment. He squeezed harder, trying to regain control, but he had lost it. Amazement turned to shock, when Linda grabbed his hands in hers, like two vice- grips, and pushed him away.
Then they just stood there, three feet apart, staring at each other, trying to understand what had just happened and what it all meant.
Linda walked away, into the bathroom and locked the door. She wanted to ponder over things, make sense of it all.
She looked in the mirror.
She had a nasty bruise on her cheek, and her neck showed two blue spots. She looked like a stranger.
This is what love has done to me, she thought.
And that made her so angry, she punched the mirror, sending glass shards throughout the bathroom and the kitchen, which was on the other side. The whole apartment complex shook, and several car alarms outside were set off.
She burst out of the bathroom, not bothering to even open the door.
Sam, who was trying to unlock the bathroom door, was thrown to the floor from the concussion. He looked up at her like a frightened cat, wondering what she was gonna do.
Frightened cat, Linda thought, smiling slightly. She walked right past Sam, not letting herself see him, and she found the cat hiding in his favorite corner of the living room.
"Here, kitty," She whispered. "Here . . . Calvin," she suddenly decided on a name. He deserved a name.
When she walked back across the building, cooing Calvin. Sam was still laying on the floor, afraid to get up. Part of her hated to see him this way: weak, powerless, afraid. But a new part of her relished it. She stood over him. "I'm taking Calvin with me. You don't deserve him."
"Who?" Sam replied, barely able to even consider anything besides his own fate, which seemed uncertain at the moment.
"And don't even think of telling anyone about me," Linda said with a voice far more threatening than she was able to summon in her drama class at college. "Or . . . or else I can't even describe what will happen to you!"
Then Linda forgot about Sam. She shut his memory out of her mind and started walking home.
Part of her was shaking inside, afraid of the memories. She was afraid of the future, too, because she never really felt comfortable with herself or with her life. But there was nothing like a taste of hell to put it all in perspective.
Calvin meowed in sympathy.
"It's OK, Calvin. Everything's gonna be okay. I'm gonna take you to a new home, where everyone will love you," She said, smiling and rubbing his neck. "Everyone except maybe the University Housing Department, but fuck `em."