I'm Back

I was finally ready to move on. I was finally beginning to adjust to a relatively normal life with relatively low super powers.

I lost almost all of my power exactly as I got it: Very rapidly, and without any warning or explanation. When I got them, it was during puberty while I slowly changed from a girl into a woman. I think that they were just dormant before that point, but I was always born with them. Just me and nobody else. I never learned why it happened, and I haven't really bothered to try and find out.

I just enjoyed every second of it and didn't ask any questions.

I was basically Supergirl, except my power level stayed consistent without any need for solar radiation, I didn't have any weaknesses, and my strength worked a LITTLE bit differently from traditional super girls. I was able to lift ten millions of tons of weight because my body weighed TWENTY million tons. I was technically "flying" at all times in order to prevent my incredibly dense body from sinking into the earth, but it became second nature pretty quickly. I didn't even realize that I was doing it most of the time. This did, however, mean that my strength was always at 100% and there was no way to "go easy on people," as if I could magically turn down my strength like an oven dial. If I waved my hand, anything in that hand's path would either get pushed out of the way or break, no matter how slowly or "gently," the movement was. But, this was no issue. I just learned to always be wary of my surroundings. Like, whenever I had to pick something up without breaking it, I closed my hand EXACTLY as tightly as I needed to and not a single millimeter more, and then I locked my fingers into that exact position. Again, this quickly became second nature, too.

But yes, I was basically Supergirl with no weaknesses. I could lift the great pyramid of Giza. I could stand in the middle of a nuclear blast and feel nothing more than a mildly uncomfortable burst of heat that only lasted a second. I could move at hundreds of times the speed of sound. I could FLY at hundreds of times the speed of sound. I could create hurricanes with my breath. I could incinerate things with my heat vision. I could see things in slow motion. I could hear for miles. I could SEE for miles. I could see through walls.

And on top of all of that, I was SUPER hot, even without my powers. I had a face that could make any man melt, an incredible chest, slim waist, and pair of finely-sculpted round hips.

Once my transformation into a mature woman was complete, I learned very quickly that sex felt fantastic, and being super meant that I never had to worry about any dangerous guys or deadly STD's. I quickly became addicted to the thrill of fucking any guy that I wanted, without even asking for permission. I just did it, and the fact that I could just do it was intoxicating. Legally speaking, I technically raped hundreds of men over the years. But personally, I don't see it as rape, because I was so irresistibly sexy that they always enjoyed it, even if I technically never asked for consent and half of them got really freaked out and tried to make me stop. They still pumped buckets inside of me, so clearly I could force them to enjoy it regardless of their uncertainty. Hell, I was so good in bed that I could make a man cum twice in five minutes, which isn't supposed to be biologically possible. That's how hot I am.

And then, one day in the middle of the afternoon, I suddenly felt my powers get cut in half. I could feel it in an instant. My brain was suddenly only moving at 50% speed. I was only half as strong as I used to be, only half as durable as I used to be, half as fast, etc... And then my powers slowly declined more and more each day. I suddenly got cut off from something. And without that "something," everything began to fade very, very rapidly.

My powers never reached zero. But, by the end of the decline, I had lost 99.999995% of my power. Instead of being able to lift ten million tons, I could only half a ton, putting me slightly under the strongest men in the history. Instead of being nuke proof, I found that small-caliber bullets hurt like hell and left painful welts on my skin. I could still see and hear much better than an average person, but it was no longer nearly what it used to be. I had also lost the ability to fly altogether.

I always felt a deep sense of sadness for what I once had, but I slowly began to adjust to being a more normal girl. I still wasn't FULLY normal. I was still able to live the same free and impulsive lifestyle that I always enjoyed while at full power, but I could no longer do whatever I wanted with top-level Olympic weightlifters (not that I did much of that anyways), and anybody who owned a gun for self defense could actually leave a few marks on me. So, the thrill wasn't the same as it used to be. I could still do almost anything I wanted, but it was no longer effortless. My powers were on life support, and that made the joy of being super fade more and more over the years of losing most of my powers.

As more and more time passed, the idea of my powers ever coming back became more and more abstract. I never lost hope entirely, but I just kinda... moved on.

After several years had passed, I was finally ready to move on. I was finally beginning to adjust to a relatively normal life with relatively low super powers.

And then, 50% of my power came back all at once. I could fly again. I was stronger and more indestructible than I would ever practically need to be, again!

Unlike with the decline of my powers, the RETURN of my powers did not lead to a slow return of my old mannerisms and lifestyles. That came back VERY quickly as it dawned on me that I was back. I started lifting small mountains with my bare hands. I jumped into an active volcano. I knocked over and entire forest with my breath. I flew to the moon. I flew to the sun.

And then, I started to recall how intoxicating it was to use this power to do whatever I wanted with any man I pleased.

All of the memories quickly grew more and more vivid, until I decided that I needed a strong guy, and I needed him immediately. So, I found a nice guy who was 6'6" and nicely muscular with broad shoulders. Rather than my usual approach of walking up to him, flirting with him, asking to go somewhere private and then, ahem, ADJUSTING my plan depending on his answer, I just ran in there, snatched him at super speed, took him somewhere more private and then immediately started stripping him naked and getting him ready before he even understood where he was or what was happening. There was a strong fire inside of me, and that fire quickly blazed even MORE out of control when he started to do the usual "confused struggling" routine. Instead of almost being able to put up a fight like I was used to (the key word here being "almost"), I couldn't feel his struggles at all. I felt so powerful, so absolute. And he felt so weak and tiny...

I spent the next two straight hours in a manic, animalistic state, jumping from one perfect man to the next, never saying anything other than some variation of, "Yeah, keep struggling," or "What the fuck are you gonna do? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO??" I was absolutely out of control. I just kept on pounding men's dicks with wild abandon until they lost consciousness, then I'd take off to find the next without ever taking a break or calming down.

I went through twenty men and eight orgasms. It was only while trying to build up to my NINTH climax that I, like... suddenly snapped out of it and returned to reality. I was riding a hot German boxer that I, again, snatched up from a gym somewhere nearby. His rock-hard dick (despite having already shot its load once already) felt nice inside of me, especially with the added ability of looking down at the lovely body it was attached to. He didn't look like one of those grotesque body builders with a cartoonish level of muscles and skin that looked like oily leather. He was built more like a Hollywood action star, with muscles that were just... NICE! That's what he was. He was very, VERY nice indeed... I eventually noticed that his pretty face was covered in a look of pure confusion. In his mind (and also technically according to most laws), he was being raped against his will, but my flawless body was quickly wearing down his mind, making him love it and desperately want more, which only made him even more confused and uncertain about how to feel.

For the first time in two hours, I said something that wasn't something along the lines of "What the fuck are you going to do," or, "Give it to me!!"

Instead, I chuckled and said, "You look like a guy who's never been physically AND mentally raped by a hot superhuman before!"

"P-please stop..." he spoke, barely above a whisper. Clearly, he was still in denial of the fact that he absolutely loved being one of my sex slaves of the evening. I smirked decided to humble him a little bit, leaning over him and kissing him passionately while seductively pumping my hips gently up and down his shaft, my flawless round breasts dangling in front of his chest all the while. He reacted with immediate, intense panic as my overpowering beauty made him fall sharply in love with me, like he was just hit with a magic spell that he's terrified of being under, yet utterly, UTTERLY powerless to resist.

He struggled and thrashed around furiously, trying to get away from me, and with the same futile results as the last several times. It was, again, utterly intoxicating to feel how laughably weak men were compared to me now. As his breathing increased and he was clearly about to cum for a second time, I couldn't help but grin triumphantly and whisper into his ear, "Good boy..." The resulting orgasm wasn't reluctant or foced. He truly wanted to give me everything. In that moment, he loved me. It was only after he came down from it that he snapped back into his usual state of fear, confusion, and conflicting emotions.

"You feeling better now, sexy?" I asked with a smug grin after his breathing had finally returned to normal.

"How... how are you doing this...?" the man finally asked the question that the previous nineteen men were also wondering, but were never given enough breath to speak. "What are you...?" His voice carried a tone of pure, primal fear but also pure, primal adoration and worship. As always, I was 100% intoxicating.

What am I? Honestly, the only answer that felt right to me was to simply say, "I'm back."