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Super-Sister #5: A Blast From The Kryptonian Past free porn video
Super-Sister #5: A Blast From the Kryptonian Past
By Heather St. Claire
"In Smallville one day, the people blink is disbelief as they see a girl
dressed in the super uniform of Superboy, patrolling in his place! You
will be even more amazed to enter the privacy of the Kent home to find a
daughter living with mom and dad! Yes, the most freakish twist of fate
imaginable changes the boy of steel into a lass of steel, when Clark Kent
becomes...Claire Kent, Alias Super-Sister!"
June 15, 1949--From the diary of Claire Kent: These final months of high
school have been the most difficult and painful of my life. Everything
seemed so normal just a few weeks ago. I was going to class and hanging
out with my steady boyfriend Pete Ross and my neighbor and best friend
Lana Lang; rescuing people in distress and battling crime in my alter-ego,
Super-Sister. If anything was causing me anxiety, it was the question of
what the future might hold. The end of high school felt like the end of so
many things. That was true to an even greater degree than I realized.
Things seemed to unravel The Langs went to Egypt during the break. Lana's
father, Professor Lewis Lang, is a real adventurer. His scientific
exploration has taken him around the globe, but he and Lana's mother have
always been drawn back to Smallville, where their families have lived for
generations.
Right after the Langs returned, I sensed something was different. Lana and
I have been inseperable since we were tots, and that's been even more true
since I changed from a boy into a girl three years ago. Her friendship,
along with the Kent's love and support, allowed me to negotiate my
transition with as much ease as I could have hoped for. If I wasn't in
class, helping Ma around the house or out with Petey, you could be sure I
was with Lana. So you can imagine my surprise when Lana suddenly didn't
have time for me. Every time I tried to talk to her at school, she was too
busy. If I tried to phone, her parents said she wasn't available.
"I'm sure she's just busy, dear. I know she's making plans for college,
and she's probably helping her father catalogue the things he brought back
from their trip." That was ma, trying to reassure me, as we prepared the
evening meal together. Pa sure loves his pot roast.
"I suppose you're right," I replied, but my uneasiness remained.
The following Friday night, Pete and I were on our way to the movie when
we spotted Lana through the windows of the diner. She was with a boy I
didn't recognize. "Let's go say hi," Pete suggested.
The fella who was pressed tightly against Lana's side in the booth
appeared to be in his early twenties. He was muscular and wore a faded,
grease-stained jacket over a dirty t-shirt. Lana had been totally absorbed
in him, but finally glanced up when she sensed someone standing over them.
"Oh. Claire. Pete. Meet Tony. He works at the garage over on Pine Street."
Tony smiled, nodded slightly, and said, "Pleased tametcha." Pete and I
exchanged puzzled looks. Although no invitation was forthcoming, we slid
into the booth across from Lana and Tony.
Lana didn't look like the Lana I had known all my life. She was wearing a
sweater so tight she should have outgrown it years ago. I tried to make a
joke of it: "Did you leave your sweater in the dryer too long, Lana?"
She just took a big gulp from her coffee and said flatly, "Hilarious,
Claire."
This was the first time I had ever seen her in a skirt that fell above the
knee--WAY above the knee. She was wearing a lot of makeup. And she was
smoking! Tony shook a Lucky Strike from the pack sitting in front of him
on the table. Lana pulled the cigarette free and placed it to her lips.
She leaned forward as Tony lit a match and touched to the end of the
cigarette. Lana took a deep drag, tossed her head back, and exhaled a
plume of smoke.
"Lana!" I exclaimed. "I can't believe you're smoking! It's not good for
you!"
She shook her head and sighed wearily as she tapped ash into the tray
sitting in front of her. "Oh Claire, you've been a good friend, but
sometimes I think the girls are right. You ARE a goody-goody. Doctors and
baseball players advertise cigarettes; how bad can they be?" I was
speechless. She took a few more drags from the Lucky before stubbing it
out. She then folded her arms in front of her and looked squarely at me.
"Claire. You know I've traveled the world, I've seen amazing things. You
grew up in the big city, right? Are you really going to be happy forever
in this god-forsaken place? Don't you have any dreams? I'm going to
college this fall. What are you going to do?"
"I...I don't know." And it was true. I didn't have any idea what I would do
once I graduated. Part of me has felt the call of a bigger city, probably
someplace in the east, where I can be closer to more people in need of my
help. Yet the pull of the only place I've known as home is equally strong.
Tony broke the silence. "This scene is boring me, baby. Can we blow?" Lana
nodded. She seemed as eager to get away as I was. "Uh, do you have a
couple of clams? I seem to have forgotten my wallet at the shop." Lana
looked annoyed, but reached for her purse. As she laid a dollar bill on
the table, she said, "Think about it, Claire. Just think."
I could have spent a lot of time trying to understand Lana's behavior, but
at that moment, I realized I was going to have something far more
difficult to deal with. My super-intuition sounded a warning that gave me
chills: "S.O.S....the Phantom Zone has been breached....S.O.S."
"Petey? Can we skip the movie tonight? Would you mind taking me home? I'm
not feeling well." He nodded and we left.
Pete, who now knows my secret identity, already realized what was
happening when I appeared to freeze in place to listen to the mental
warning. "What's up, hon?" he asked.
"Trouble. Big trouble. I'll have to tell you later." I hurried off to
change. But the warning had come too late. Danger like I had never
encountered before was heading my way. I prayed I would be able to find a
way to stop it.
My Kryptonian father, Jor-El, had discovered the Phantom Zone just a few
years before the planet's fiery demise, an invention that won him a
coveted seat on the world's ruling body, the Science Council. He had
devised a projector that allowed a living being to be projected into this
state of nothingness; they would be able to see the corporeal world, but
be unable to interact with it. Joe-El persuaded the science council to
adopt the Phantom Zone as the form of punishment for the planet's most
dangerous criminals; previously, they had been exiled into space in
suspended animation.
I learned about the zone when the projector and a cache of Kyrptonian
weapons my father had shot into space landed on Earth. I was accidentally
trapped in the zone myself for a short time, until I learned that with
great effort, I could telepathically communicate with someone on earth. I
was finally able to let Pa Kent know what had happened, and he freed me,
but not before I learned the stories of the criminals imprisoned there.
Their crimes may have been diverse, but they were united by one feeling:
an intense hatred for my true father, their jailer. They never took into
account the fact that being imprisoned in the zone had saved them from
perishing when Krypton exploded.
I scanned the countryside for signs of any of the Phantom Zone criminals.
Not far from the drive-in theater, I spotted a car pulled over by the side
of the road; I recognized it as Tony's hot rod. His naked crumpled body,
his neck twisted and broken, lay beside it. Standing next to the already
cooling corpse was one of the most vicious of all the occupants of the
Zone: Faora Hu-ul. I involuntarily shuddered at the sight of her in the
flesh. She wore a black bodysuit of a mesh-like fabric, heavier than the
cloth of my own costume, and black boots. Her short dark hair was styled
in a way that was reminiscent of the 1920s flappers, a short bob. Her body
was lithe, athletic, and her face might have been considered beautiful had
she not worn her hatred for all males on it so plainly.
The time I spent in the Zone had exposed me to the innermost thoughts of
these criminals in a most sickening way. Some of them had taken a greater
number of lives--Jax-Ur had wiped out an entire inhabited moon--but for most
of them, killing had been a means to an end, usually riches or power. I
found no one else who delighted in killing for killing's sake as much as
Faora, who was driven by one passion and one passion only--her hatred for
men. She had been sentenced to serve the equivalent of three hundred Earth
years, one of the longest sentences of anyone in the zone, for the torture
killings of twenty-three men at a concentration camp she operated.
I gaped at Tony's body. "Well," I finally said. "That didn't take you
long." She laughed harshly. I Imagined Tony's last moments. I've never
shared myself sexually with a man, yet I can appreciate the intimacy, the
yielding which leads to the union of bodies and souls. But for Faora,
coupling with a man must represent an ultimate violation. How far did she
let poor Tony get before she killed him? Did he at least know a moment of
release before his life ended?
"You're nowhere near as bright as your father was, Kal-El, but I'm glad
you finally noticed the change in your friend Miss Lang. She was the
victim of my efforts at thought-control from within the zone. I hoped the
changes in her would provide at least a minor distraction for you, and I
was right."
"Where are the rest of them?" I demanded.
She looked down at Tony's body with as much concern as the average person
might have shown a dead bird. She stroked her chin thoughtfully before
giving the corpse a hard kick, sending it tumbling into the ditch. "If
you're looking for any of my compatriots, don't bother, Kal-El," she
purred. "The breach in the zone was brief, only allowing me the
opportunity to escape. I've already gone to the cave where you've hidden
the Phantom Zone projector and disabled it. In due time, I might let some
of the others come and play with me, but only after I've established my
rule over this backward planet."
"As for you, Kal-El!" she cried. "I am ashamed to call you a Kryptonian,
and a fellow female! You have adopted this ridiculous, backward planet as
your own and embraced their antiquated gender stereotypes as if you
actually believe them! Yet you are mightier than all of them put together!
I still want to offer you an opportunity for redemption. I don't know why
I'm doing this. If you were still male, I would have already killed you by
now, but since you have joined the superior gender, I want to give you an
opportunity. We could rule this planet together...enjoy untold riches and
absolute power. We could even remake this into a New Krypton. Wipe out
these inferior humanoids and start fresh with a superior race. Only this
time around, the women will rule, and men will be our slaves."
"You're talking about genocide."
"Of course I'm talking about genocide, you imbecile! But you actually have
emotional attachment to them, don't you? How pathetic!" She paused, then
declared, "Well, if you're not going to be of any help, at least stay out
of my way while I rebuild this backward town of yours." She streaked
toward the center of town, with me on her tail. My heart sank as she came
to a stop above Smallville High School. She slowly glided to the ground,
alighting just in front of the building's main entrance.
"This place of indoctrination and subjugation must go!" she cried. "Get
out now, or die!"
Faora launched herself off the ground and hovered about a hundred feet
over the school for a moment before plunging directly into it. Screaming
students were already scurrying from every possible exit, including the
first story windows. There was a tremendous crash as she slammed into the
second story. Bricks, broken glass and pipes, dust and plaster scattered
everywhere. I trailed behind her, not quite able to catch up. I realized
to my horror that she was a grown woman and a trained fighter; she had the
physical advantage against me.
I scanned the building quickly with my x-ray vision and saw that all but
two people were out safely. Faora continued to slam into the building with
her body. She was a living battering ram. One of those still inside was
Lisa Davis, one of my fellow seniors who was in charge of the after-school
babysitting program. She was huddled in the closet of the room where the
youngsters gathered, shielding a terrified boy with her own body. "Lisa!
Get out now!" I cried.
"I can't Super-Sister! Bobby's too scared to move!"
"Compassion for a child? How touching!" Faora exclaimed as she slammed
herself into the walls and floors next to the classroom where the after-
school care took place. I tried to stop her, but she was too fast for me;
a rain of rubble showed into the room; I could hear Lisa and Bobby's
muffled screams. I frantically clawed through the wreckage. Within moments
I recovered the battered and broken body of Lisa Davis. Her face was
horribly bruised and swollen; a quick check with my x-ray vision revealed
massive internal injuries. Bobby, who she had been shielding, only had
superficial cuts and bruises.
The entire memory of my relationship with Lisa flashed through my mind in
an instant. She had come to Smallville as a freshman, and I always thought
she was sweet on Clark, but I never acted on those feelings. After I
changed, she was kind to the 'new girl' at first, but soon joined those
who pushed me to the fringes of the school's social circle. The fact that
I replaced her on the cheerleading squad last fall after she broke her leg
didn't help our relationship. But in recent weeks, she had drawn closer to
me, and I sensed she was sorry for her meanness. She was enrolled at
Kansas State in the fall and in the last conversation she and Claire ever
had, she made me promise to write to her every week.
I asked her what her major would be, and she laughed and said, "Oh, I
don't know. If I go for any career, I'm sure it will be teaching. But I'm
probably going for my M.R.S. degree!" It was an old joke, describing a
girl more interested in coming away from campus with a husband than a
diploma. None of that wouldn't have surprised me with Lisa. She did love
children, and I knew she looked forward to being a wife and mother
someday. Her shattered body lay in my arms because of her instinct to
protect one that had been entrusted to her care.
"Oh, Super-Sister," she moaned. "It hurts so much. It--" we were already
airborne, but it was too late. She convulsed, closed her eyes, and her
heart stopped. I raced to the hospital anyway, but they confirmed what I
already knew. Lisa was dead.
I fought back tears as I turned to Chief Parker. Tony and Lisa were dead,
but I still had thousands of other lives to protect. "Super-Sister?
There's a call for you from the headmaster at the girl's reformatory. She
said it's urgent."
I hurried across the street into the police station and picked up the
phone. The headmaster had an unusual proposition from one of the girls in
her charge, Leslie Luthor. Luthor promised she would help me defeat Faora,
no conditions asked, if I would bring her to Smallville. I thought for a
moment. Of course, it was likely it was a trick, but what else could I do?
It would be easy to recapture Luthor if necessary. I launched myself
toward Beloit and soon found myself face to face with Luthor, like me,
born male, and like me, transformed into a female, though in Leslie's
case, it was by her own hand--an out-of-control experiment designed to cure
her baldness. The lush red hair that fell to her shoulders testified that
the process had worked, but oh, the price.
I noticed that Luthor wore the same gray dress that the other girls in the
industrial school wore. But while most of the girls had dresses that were
ill-fitting and worn, Luthor's looked like it was brand new and had been
custom-made to fit her generous curves. I was curious, but said nothing.
There were more important issues, like the fate of my town, and maybe the
world.
"Thank you for this opportunity Super-Sister," Luthor said with a nod. "I
won't let you down. In case you're wondering why I'm doing this, please
remember, this is my world too. My parents and sister are still on the
farm at Metropolis. I want to make sure they're safe." I nodded but
remained silent as I picked up Luthor and leapt into the sky.
I brought her to her former workshop, which I had once more equipped for
scientific research. The broken Phantom Zone projector lay disassembled on
the workbench. I felt ashamed of what I was about to admit. "Lex...Leslie. I
can't figure out how to repair it. I think you're the only person alive
who can do that."
Luthor smiled. "I'm sure it will be child's play, Super-Sister. Now, go
hold that villainess at bay while I get to work."
I streaked back toward town, hoping to catch Faora by surprise. Now that
she had leveled the school, she was starting in on the downtown. I
monitored the situation with my telescopic vision as I hurtled toward the
center of my beloved community. I watched with horror as she marched the
mayor and town council out of the City Hall, all tied to each other by a
length of sturdy rope. She led the town's leaders into the center of the
square where they watched her pound the statue of town founder Ezra Small
to rubble.
"Enough worshipping of males and denigration of females!" she cried. She
circled the men in an angry whirlwind. One moment, they were stripped to
their underwear; another flash, and they were all clad in dresses no doubt
removed from Mabel Parker's shop. She had smeared their faces with makeup
and put wigs atop their heads; the effect was clownish, almost ghoulish
with the chalk-white face paint and bright red lipstick she had used.
"Gentlemen! Time to find out how the other half lives!" She laughed
lustily and turned toward Lana, who had stood watching the spectacle with
hundreds of other frightened townspeople. "Child!" she said, handing her
the rope. "Parade these fools through the streets. Let them serve as an
object lesson to other arrogant males!"
"Enough!" I cried, striking Faora from behind as I plunged earthward. She
slammed into the ground, but immediately sprang up and turned on me.
"Kal-El?" she said with a sick grin. "I'm so glad you want to play!"
Before I could react, she grabbed my cape and flung me into the cupola
that sat atop the roof of City Hall; the bell came crashing to the Earth
along with the shattered remains of the tower. I picked myself out of the
rubble, realizing that if we stayed put, the entire town would be leveled.
I fled, hoping that Faora would follow. I wasn't disappointed.
"Oh Kal-El! Don't let them think females are cowards! Come back and
fight...like a man!" I am sure Pete and I were the only ones who understood
her irony.
I came to a stop over the nearest mountain range. I glanced down at the
spot where Shar-La had transformed me from male to female more than three
years ago. It seemed like the perfect spot for what needed to happen. I
alighted and called up to Faora: "I'm ready!"
She landed and we stood face to face. I waited for her to make a move. I
must admit I was surprised when she slapped me. Hard. It stung so much, I
had to fight back tears. "I'm not surprised the son of Jor-El is weak,"
she snarled. "I am saddened that becoming female has weakened him even
more." She lunged at my breast and tweaked my nipples with as much might
as she could. I stood my ground.
She grabbed me and flung me into the mountainside, which trigged a mini-
avalanche.
Faora was a master of the Kryptonian martial art of Horo-Kanu, which
utilizes the body's pressure points. I took a chance that she wouldn't
know anything about a simple earthly martial art. I reached back into my
boyhood; when I was about to enter school, Pa Kent had decided to teach me
judo. Ma had expressed her fears, given my super-abilities, but Pa
insisted I needed a non-super way to defend myself if I faced bullies. I
hit Faora with a flying elbow, which stunned her. I put a series of moves
on her, culminating me being atop her with her right leg caught in a camel
clutch, when I heard the sounds of a helicopter about to land on the
smooth plane that surrounded us. I smiled at the sight of Leslie Luthor in
the chopper, holding what I prayed was a repaired Phantom Zone projector.
"Luthor!" I cried out. "Now!"
I rolled off Faora and before she had time to react, Luthor hit her with
the beam that sent her back into the Phantom Zone.
As soon as the helicopter touched down, Luthor stepped forward to hand me
the Phantom Zone projector. I eyed her warily. "No tricks, Luthor?"
"None at all, Super-Sister. I'm a man....well, a person, of my word." She
chucked at the joke at her own expense.
But I was startled enough to drop the projector to the ground when Luthor
reached out and wrapped her arm around me.
When she grabbed me, I didn't react. When she pulled me toward her, I
didn't react. When she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against mine,
I didn't react. When she grabbed my derriere with her left hand, I still
didn't react. I can pretend it was shock, and that might have been true
for an instant. But if I'm completely honest with myself, I would have to
admit that I didn't pull away more quickly because I liked it.
I liked her rough, aggressive way of kissing, so different from Pete's
soft, gentle manner. I liked the feel of her soft lips against mine. I
liked inhaling her musky, girlish scent. I liked the feeling of her
breasts pressed against my own. I liked the fire this ignited in my groin.
And I had absolutely no idea, and as of this moment still have no idea,
what it all means. I still love Pete with all my heart and soul. But this
awakened something in me that I don't understand, and maybe I don't ever
want to understand.
I finally pulled myself away. "Luthor," I said grasping her arm. "We need
to get you back to Beloit."
She tossed back her head, her thick red hair waving in the breeze. "Of
course, Super-Sister. I gave my word."
I hurried back to Smallville to begin cleanup operations. I repaired City
Hall, then got down to work on the biggest job, construction of a brand
new high school. At my request, building materials had already been
delivered to the school site and the clearing away of the debris was
partially completed. I had talked with the school superintendent about
recreating the old school as closely as possible, but he had asked for a
modern building, something that would reflect the contemporary era the
students of tomorrow would grow up in.
I worked with a combination of speed and exquisite care. Claire Kent would
never be a student in these halls, but I hoped I would be leaving part of
me behind. When the structure was completed, I stopped to assess my work.
Principal Jenkins came up alongside me and said, "A brand new school. It's
beautiful, and it's already finished. Thank you, Super-Sister."
I pointed to a patch of bare ground in front of the building. "It's not
finished yet, principal. I just need a few more minutes."
I streaked off to a nearby nursery and soon was back with a colorful array
of wildflowers, which I planted in most of the barren area. I headed off
once more and brought back a large boulder which I carefully placed in the
center of the new garden. I went to work with lightning speed and
exquisite care, carving a relief of Lisa's face in the stone. Beneath it,
I engraved these words:
"The Lisa Davis Memorial Garden. In loving memory of Lisa Davis,
Smallville High School class of 1949. Her bravery and sacrifice will never
be forgotten." I stepped back to assess my work. I sensed Principal
Jenkins approaching me once more. Tears were streaming down my face.
Unashamed, I turned to him and said, "Now it's finished, sir." He nodded,
and I leapt into the sky and looked forward to a peaceful evening at home.
The End
NOTE: This story, and others in the series, is based on the 1960 Superboy
story, "Claire Kent, Alias Super-Sister." Clark is transformed into a girl
in the story, but it all turns out to be a "mental vision" projected by
the alien Shar-La. In this series, I assume the transformation actually
happened.
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