Legacy – The Diaries (Part 3)

By Shadar

An alternate Earth’s story line…

Diary - Part Three

By the time I turned thirteen, my shoulders were broad enough to keep the top of Aunt Kara’s uniform from falling down, which was a great relief for mom’s worries. I wore the uniform proudly when Dad officially introduced me to the world. 

Despite his doubts about the effectiveness of the UN, dad believed in the concept of a world governing body. So he took me to the General Assembly, telling them that I would support the just causes of all countries as determined by the UN.

At the time, I didn’t understand all the nuances behind his words, so I said something really intelligent like: “Hello world… glad to meet you.”

There had been plenty of unconfirmed sightings prior to my unveiling, and innumerable reports and supposed pictures on the internet, but dad had never confirmed anything. So as you might imagine, the media went crazy when dad admitted he not only had a daughter, but that I’d been born and raised on Earth.

Everyone immediately started to speculate where I’d been born, who my mother was, where I went to school, you name it. The odds-makers argued there must be a secret Kryptonian woman around somewhere. Someone from the Phantom Zone. Or a human woman that dad had relations with while wearing Green-K (which just proves they don't anything about Kryptonite... you try to have sex when your sick as a dog and vomiting your guts out). Some wag even suggested that Aunt Kara was the mother and my fetus had been kept in stasis for all that time. The least likely guess was Diana, who called herself Wonder Woman, given that everything knew the Amazons were all lesbians.

Dad eventually confessed that it was indeed Diana. He also said I’d been trained on Themyscira, but that I wasn’t an Amazon.

That sent the press into a tizzy, especially the tabloids and internet, but it was just his way of deflecting attention – everyone started chasing Dianafor answers. Which was useless because she never talked to anyone except to spout her “peace on Earth” message about everyone getting along. The tabloids speculated endlessly about the ‘Super Romance’ and the internet sites speculated about super sex, going back to the months around my supposed conception time to look for seismic data suggesting a super-coupling. As silly as that was, they were using nine months for the gestation period – they didn’t know that Kryptonians are carried for eleven months.

While the hype swirled across the pages and screens of the world, we Kent’s remained a bland, ordinary small town family living in a nondescript bedroom community outside Metropolis. Just like dad wanted us to be. We didn’t warrant suspicion from anyone. But I already knew the news people or paparazzi would never stop searching for my secret identity, any more than they had my dad’s. I was determined to find a way to throw them off the scent, just as dad had done.

Dad kept me on a short lease until I was fifteen, focusing on natural disasters and not criminals, and then gradually let me do more. I became a feature on the front pages of the newspaper. I had a rescue of some kind every day. Some of them were biggies. Like that cruise ship that lost power in a tropical storm.

Life continued fairly normally otherwise in terms of home and school stuff. More or less like any other 15 year old girl.

That's when I started to work with Bruce Wayne. Batman to the rest of the world. He was a master at figuring out what criminals were going to do as well as crime scene investigation. He'd found ways to tap into police and CSI computers, not to mention the FBI. Dad gave him STAR labs report on me, but he wanted to see for himself. So I gave him a mini-tour of my abilities. He always looked at me funny... like he didn't fully trust me. I figured it was my age and gender -- after all, he and dad were the best of friends. Bruce had an antiquated sense of gender roles, and he wasn't comfortable with the fact that muscular strength was my big thing. Punching out the bad guys and all.

Bottom line, he knew what to do with me. But I sure learned a lot from him. He was kind of like an Uncle, always giving me advice -- unfortunately, often when I hadn't asked for it.

  Dad gradually let me handle more and more situations on my own, not just environmental problems. I started to take on the real bad guys. Terrorists, murderers and master criminals.

He also required me to work out in his Fortress twice a week, hoping I’d put on some muscle. He thought I was too skinny. He’d built massive machines that could tire out even Kryptonian muscles, and they sure worked on mine. But mostly, we used to spar a lot. He figured that if I could stay in the fight with him, I could take down anyone.

And I did, stay in the fight that is, mostly by using my smaller size and greater flexibility. I could usually get out of his holds and tease him by flitting around just out of his reach. But he'd eventually connect with that massive fist of his and knock me for a loop. He wasn't holding anything back. Even if I was just a girl.

He claimed Aunt Kara hadn’t been interested in working out and that was part of the reason she didn’t survive her encounter with the Anti-Monitor.

Aunt Chloe provided another perspective, filling me in on stuff about Aunt Kara's private life that nobody else knew. Apparently she'd had gone through a lot of changes during her nineteen years, starting with living in an orphanage. I couldn’t imagine that. After that, college, guidance counselor, soap opera star and then back to school again to get her masters. Then, just when she was really getting her life sorted out, that Anti-Monitor bastard had killed her.

She could have gotten away, but then the Anti-Monitor would have killed dad. She gave her life for him. That made her a real heroine. Even more, if she hadn’t died saving dad, I never would have been born. All of which meant I had an obligation to honor her name.

I told dad I was even more determined to carry on her legacy because she’d died for him.

I’d never seen him shed a tear before, but he did now as he hugged me for a really long time and told me how proud he was.

Then he sent me back for a second round of training on Themyscira. He said I needed to learn advanced combat techniques, and the Amazons were the best at that.

Mom said dad was also interested in my taking advantage of the opportunity to bond with my birthmother. I could tell she wasn’t happy about that, but dad is like that. He has a heart of gold, but he doesn’t always think through all the consequences. And he doesn’t have a clue how women think.

Instead of being angry about being sent to away this time, I figured it might be kind of cool to have two moms. And since everyone on Earth thought Diana was my mom anyway, I’d always had to play along with that idea. So I figured… what’s the big deal?

I worked really hard on Themyscira, and I quickly became the champion of my class, mostly because I was stronger than the Amazon girls. I actually started to get along with a few of my classmates this time, which was cool. I’d never had a girlfriend before; just Jeremy and Robert.

Everything was going really well, and then I got my first period. The other girls in my class and all the older Amazons made a really big deal out of it, saying I was the first girl in my class to become a woman.

That seemed kind of cool at first, but then it got very weird when they started inviting me to these rituals that only adults could attend -- I was no longer a girl in their eyes. They even refused to let me go back to the girl’s school and said I had to move into the Royal palace with Diana and my grandmother, Hippolyta.

Grandmother had always been mean to me, treating me like I wasn't really an Amazon, so I refused at first. But Diana made it clear it wasn’t my choice.

Their adult rituals were pretty strange, and I’m not going to go into all the details, but suffice it to say that I figured out what being a lesbian was all about. I guess I’m just not wound that way, so after a few embarrassing moments, I stayed away from those ceremonies.

Diana said that was OK given I was only half Amazon, but I could tell she was disappointed. Grandmother just sniffed and said obviously I was just a "man's child".

After hearing that, was really ready to return to Earth. I missed Jeremy and Robert as well as my mom and Aunt Chloe. So when dad came for one of his weekly visits, I told him that the Amazon rituals were really orgies and I had to attend now.

That was a huge exaggeration, for the Amazons are actually very discreet, but it worked. Dad and Diana had a long argument about what I’d said, but in the end they both agreed it was time for me to go. I obviously wasn’t destined to be a true Amazon.

I celebrated my fourteenth birthday when I returned to our fair city of Silverdale, and Jeremy and Robert were invited. They’d been worried about me, given I’d disappeared without warning, but mom had made up some story about my going away to private school for a while. They didn’t buy that and just figured I was out roaming around the universe or something.

I was 5’9” now, which made me taller than either of the guys. My body had also filled out enough that Aunt Kara’s old costume fit me fairly snugly now. Not that I let the guys see anything but my Ugly Betty at first. But after the first time they saw me on TV, they went on and on about how good I looked. Which I figured out pretty fast meant older and sexier.

While the old familiarity of the Three Musketeers was still there, I could sense a change. Hormones and stuff were getting in the way. We weren’t kids any more. That made a lot of things more complicated. Big things and little things.

Like mom insisting I wear a bra under my civvies, which I thought was silly; the last thing a Girl of Steel needs is support. What it came down to was her fear that my nipples were too pronounced.

I gave in after we had a big fight about that,but there was no way I was wearing one under my costume. Besides, there weren't any bras in the entire universe made out of Kryptonian fabric. Did she want some lesser fabric burning up to cover my chest in black crud?

So I won that one. Of course, what I didn’t tell her was that it made me feel really sexy to know that people could see my nipples under that skintight fabric. As Jeremy once said, they don’t call me the Girl of Steel for nothing.

My hair was getting really long by now and my eyes were big and so brilliantly blue that I had to hide them behind contacts when I was doing my Kara Kent disguise. The newspapers and TV all said that Supergirl was the most beautiful woman on the planet, the ultimate supermodel. An obvious exaggeration, I wasn't that cute, but the hype ensured that my pictures were on the front page of most newspapers at least once a week, and on numerous TV news and gossip shows each day. Of course, you could read some pretty wild stuff about me on the net. A lot of them involved Photoshopping my uniform away to reveal an astonishing amount of anatomical detail. If you know what I mean.

“Supergirl” had been the number one search topic on Google for the last year. The second most popular inquiry was “Supergirl’s boobs”, so I had a pretty good idea what people were staring at.

That's when I had one of my great ideas. Dad has always had this problem with bullets ricocheting off his steel skin and hurting people around him. He'd catch the ones he could, and shut down the shooter really fast, but sometimes, some guy with an Uzi, or even several of them, could fill the air with an astonishing number of bullets in a very short time.

A bullet hitting bone would explode, sending tiny fragments flying for hundreds of feet. A tensed muscle was even worse... the round would crumple but richocet away with most of its lethal energy intact. Relaxed muscle would dimple a bit and absorb a fair bit of the energy. The ultimate, of course, were my boobs. They'd dimple and absorb nearly all the energy, leaving the bullet to plunk to the ground a few feet away, spent. The big dimple and small shockwave that rippled across my boob were pretty visible to the naked eye, even if the bullet itself wasn't.

The implications were obvious. 

Mom laughed when I mentioned it to her, saying that was ridiculous, and then she saw I was serious and said "No Way. It would just encourage men to aim there."

I said that was the point. Public safety and all.

Dad turned red and backed mom.

Back in Bruce's Batcave, I puffed myself up and studied my profile in a mirror, and tried the idea on Bruce. He stared at me for a long moment, and then siad that while the concept was technically good (he knew all about armor and its effects), he thought it might be awkward to do. He said to give it more thought after I'd "matured". 

 I knew what that meant... he thought my boobs weren't big enough to pull it off.

I gave him my frosty look (the one I'd been practicing on guys who tried to hit on me), and he just shrugged.

He made me so mad sometimes, what with his complete lack of emotion. 

The paparazzi ganged up to try to find ways to stalk me around this time,  but given I could fly away at Mach 4, not to mention quickly donning my Ugly Betty, they didn’t have a chance. But still, growing up beautiful and my improving figure made it harder and harder to look plain and ordinary as Kara Kent. I kept my hair black and tied tightly back when I was doing the Ugly, along with the brown contacts and some blotchy makeup and toner to dull out my cheekbones. I even added a hint of bags under my eyes. While other girls were learning the art of making themselves beautiful, I learned the art of making myself less attractive.

Some teenage life that was.

Mom helped by buying me the dullest clothing she could find. Nerdy stuff, which really confused people given that I still hung out with Jeremy and Robert. They were sports stars at school, and cheerleaders seemed to hang off them, while I belonged to the chess club (I had a master’s ranking!) and worked on the school paper.

The guys helped me get a job as a trainer on the football team, wrapping the guys with tape and hauling their gear around. I was the only girl who had access to the locker room Jacuzzi's, but the guys acted as if I was just one of the team, walking around nude, whatever. It wasn’t glamorous, and I could undress anyone with my eyes, so that wasn't a big deal. But the trainer job made it possible for me to hang out with Jeremy and Robert.

They thought it was a gas when their teammates would talk about Supergirl, a constant subject, getting all google-eyed as they voiced some very x-rated fantasies. All the while, I was kneeling in front of them, using my x-ray vision to look inside the joints to figure out exactly what pressures or support to apply. Nobody could tape like I could, but I might as well have been invisible in my Ugly Betty disguise.

It was all I could not to giggle at some of the comments. I decided the factoid I'd read was true -- teenage boys thought about sex eleven times a minute.

For his part, Jeremy was astonished that nobody had a clue who I was, despite my face showing up on TV nearly every day. Part of that was due to a new discovery: I could change the look of my face slightly. I had to really concentrate to do it, but I could puff my cheeks up and otherwise change my expression enough to fool a careful observer. Dad said he’d read about people doing that in the Kryptonian archives: supposedly it was solely a female trait.

I kept practicing on the morphing thing, and I could eventually fool even mom. She told me that if I kept that up, I might not even need the whole Ugly Betty routine someday. 

Right... there was no hiding the fact that I was tall, ridiculously fit and flawlessly tanned, not to mention having an exotic figure. The only way to hide that was to use enough material in my Ugly outfits until I looked fat.  And strangely, I really enjoyed being able to walk down a street and not have to worry about anyone noticing me. Especially since every appearance I made as Supergirl turned into a glitzy media event. That got old real fast.

No, Ugly Betty was a part of me now.

That's when I asked Jeremy and Robert why they thought my Ugly Betty worked so well. I mean, anyone with half a brain could recognize my face, especially before I figured out that morph thing. 

Jeremy claimed that people were so obsessed with my bright, skintight uniform, those long legs, all that blonde hair, not to mention the cape and that famous ‘S’ on my chest, that they never really saw the girl beneath. Then he went on to say that my costume was so thin you could see a freckle under it, so it didn't really hiding anything.

I teased him about it, claiming that of course that was the whole purpose of the costume: to keep criminals staring at the wrong things while they tripped over their dicks. Men couldn't think with both heads at the same time, and most of the violent crooks I ran into were men.

Jeremy thought that was dumb. The way he saw it, a guy with a gun who's on a murderous rampage doesn't get turned on by looking at a girl. He's got too much adrenaline and hate in his system. Supergirl was just a short trip to a maximum security cell. They weren't going to be turned on... instead, they'd do anything possible to kill me and escape.

Although he did admit that the fact that I was showing a lot of skin and was really cute and bulletproof, all at the same time, kind of twisted a guy's mind around. Especially if they were used to using a gun to get their way.

That turned into a discussion of whether sexual arousal was controllable.

I claimed it wasn't -- I'd seen react to me in ways that defied common sense. Things they must have caught hell for from their girlfriends or wives. I wasn't sure if it was the fact that I was alien, or so powerful or just so attractive. Maybe it was just the 'S' thing.

Jeremy laughed, accusing me of being too full of myself. Arrogant. Of thinking I was so cute that nobody could resist me. Robert joined in, saying that being super-cute and super-strong, not to mention young, wasn't a human trait. So it was the alien thing. But he agreed with Jeremy that it wasn't irresistible -- just confusing. 

I shook my head, claiming that, in my experience, guys were so overwhelmed that they lost it, and that gave me a chance to take them down without a fight. I said no guy was immune to me. To emphasize my point, I told them the look would even work on them.

They laughed and said there was no way. We'd been friends since kindergarden. I mean, we hung out all time and they weren’t tripping over anything. They'd seen me naked lots of times.

Yeah, when we were eight.

So, of course, that turned into a dare.

I knew I was screwing up, but I couldn't resist proving my point. Dares were the foundation of our friendship. We'd never refuse one.

I said I'd prove it in Robert’s basement. Tomorrow.

I did my research that night -- hanging in mid-air over a strip club and watching through the roof to see how the girls worked the audience. That quickly got way too X-rated for me -- no way I was going there with the guys. So I rented Demi Moore's stripper movie and studied her moves. I was only going to strip down to my costume. 

Robert's parents went to a movie, leaving us alone. Nobody thought anything was wrong with that. We were just friends. Sex was the last thing we'd think of, particularly since I was still one of the guys, at least in his parent's mind.

I had my test panel; two guys who should be immune to me. Now was the time to find out if super sexy was a power of its own.

I put on some music with a pounding beat, and my Ugly Betty started to come off in layers as I imitated a stripper, tossing my street clothes at the guys as I stripped. I teased them with my legs first (I never wore those silly boots), then my long, blonde hair, dancing so close that I brushed it warmly across them, floating in mid-air as I moved close to them, almost touching. I unbuttoned my blouse slowly, teasing them with hints of the 'S', then one boob, then the other, my nipples so visible under the thin fabric. I twisted myself backward, the back of my head touching my heels, proving I had unnatural flexibility, my skirt rising enough to tease them with the mound of my red panties, then turning around to shake my ass, reminding them that I wore just a thong.  

Their mouths were hanging open by the time I straightened myself out to face them, tossing my long hair to send it flying, half covering my face, leaving one blue eye shining out from under it. A look I hoped was dazzling sexy.

They’d never been at a loss for words before, but they just stared at me now, transfixed, jaws dropping, not to mention shifting very uncomfortably in their seats and as turned on as a guy can get. I could actually taste their hormones on the air (sort of like a combination of sweat and musk).

They had all the signs: flushed faces, rapid breathing, moist skin and very warm body temps. The classic symptoms of surging hormones. Not to mention erections. Even weirder, I felt myself responding to them. A series of tingly goosebumps ran up and down my back and my nipples started to itch. They were tenting up under that thin fabric now.

That was when I realized I'd way overdone things.  Clearly, this was getting out of control fast. I mean, these were my brothers after all. Best buddies.

Before any of us did something we’d regret, I grabbed my clothes and flew out the basement window to cool down. 

So much for flaunting my super sex power. It was backfiring on me.

Things were a little tense between the three of us for a week after that, but we gradually fell back into the old groove of best friends. Nobody said I word, but obviously I'd won my dare. Yet strangely, I didn’t like the idea that my being Supergirl and sexy had briefly become more important than the three of us being just best friends. Hell, for years they’d thought I was just another guy.

Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse when the Silverdale High School cheerleading squad decided to adopt a variation of my costume as their uniform, except for having a different shape of ‘S’ for Silverdale. Jeremy and Robert, both of them football players, started dating blonde cheerleaders who looked and dressed a lot like me in their cheerleader uniforms.

I tried not to be jealous, especially when I saw them making out under the bleachers. I knew where a lot of that inspiration was coming from.

Then there were the back rooms during victory parties. There seemed to be some kind of unwritten rule about football heroes and cheerleaders getting it on after they'd won a game.  At our school anyway. I loved them both like brothers and I was glad they were having fun, but given the way those girls flaunted their uniforms, making it with the guys while still half dressed in it, this was getting way too close to home.

On the other hand, I told myself they were the lucky ones. Sex was easy for them. I figure I'll be a virgin to the day I die. I mean, invulnerable also means inviolate. And even if a guy could do it, I could really hurt him if I lost it, given my strength. I'd looked through walls and roofs to see enough female orgasms to know that there was no such thing as safe sex when it came to me.  

All in all, sex remained confusing for me. I can shake it and do amazing things to guys, but I'm not prepared to ground out all the energy I created. Or able. But if I could use arousal to safely disarm criminals and help save innocent victims, well, then it was just another power to use.

And I had learned one thing: Aunt Kara’s costume had some serious bada bling to it. Especially now that I had the curves to really fill it out.

I mean, if it had worked on the two guys who should be immune to me, God help the rest of the world.