The Ultimate Superheroines Forum

The first chapter of this story was originally posted about eight months ago, then the author deleted it for no good reason. With the request of some forum members, the author is reposting it, albeit, a newly revised version.






Flare Girl

Chapter One


Happy hour began early that day. I always drove downtown, to my seaside bar, because the drinks were better there than they were in the suburbs off the island. There I was, watching the Deadtrope Poets lose yet another baseball game, when the programming was interrupted by a newsflash. Flare Girl, again. What was she doing now? I thought. Then I saw it, right on the strip outside the bar. The beautiful blonde had landed on the boardwalk, and she just stood there for a moment. I turned my head, gazing at her through the windows. It was surreal, to see the superheroine standing there, in her costume, like something from a dream. Her wavy, yellow skirt shimmered in the sun, revealing a pair of young, fit thighs. A gold star was printed on her stomach, and her tight, orange halter shirt stretched over her lithe frame. Her long, blonde hair shimmered generously down her back, below the white belt that cinched her slender hips. For a moment she turned from her side profile and looked into the bar, and I saw her bright blue eyes and her sweeet, innocent face. I saw her velvet, red lips, full of color. She turned away, and I thought her eyes lingered, for just a breath, on mine.

There was a large groan, like metal being rendered, and I saw the metallic thing approaching Flare Girl from down the street; my feelings of awe at seeing the marvelous superheroine were replaced with fear. Flare Girl’s yellow boot-heels left the pavement as she soared into the air and out of sight. I couldn’t see the action, but watched on the television as Flare Girl made her fierce attacks, her cutting razors of light slicing into the monster. I began to feel the same indifference that I always felt when Flare Girl was fighting. She never seems to face much of a challenge, or she just makes it look so easy. But even after her famous move, the metal monster was still standing, and I could hear it, creaking above us.

The monster attacked her. It thrusted its long, pointed spears at her, and she dodged them, but Flare Girl was clearly on the defensive now. When she tried to attack, she was met with a jab, which she had to quickly deflect. My eyes looked up at the television screen. There was now an anguished, surprised look in Flare Girl's eyes, as the camera from a nearby helicopter zoomed in. Apparently, the monster had struck her. My indifference was turning back into fear now. The metallic beast towered above the bar like King Kong, and only the fragile figure of a girl kept it from destroying us. I could only listen now- I heard an explosion, and the television turned to static. The patrons were glued to the windows. The street was vacant. Everyone had fled, or were trapped inside their buildings like us. A girl, I thought. In a short, yellow skirt. With nice legs.

I heard a crash from above. Then I saw the shadow, like an approaching storm cloud, as the giant thing fell over the street, and we were lucky that some invisible hand had guided its fall away from the roof of the bar. I heard the cacophonous noise as the giant thing crashed into the pavement. Then the noises stopped, and there was a dead calm. Fearfully, a few patrons ventured out into the street, and there was some noise about Flare Girl. Yay! More praise for Flare Girl. I wanted to get back to my Poet’s game, but everyone was heading out to the street and I heard screams. I left my stool and went out into the street, exiting through the bar's swinging double doors.

There was Flare Girl, lying helpless in a pool of blood. Some sharp piece of metal had been wrenched in her stomach, and she had obviously broken part of it off to save herself. But the bluish metal was still there, sticking out of her orange blouse, her blood oozing from it. Flare Girl was lying on her back and staring blankly up at the sky. There was blood running down her jaw. The giant metal monster lay crumpled in the street before her. Although I knew nothing about her physiology, the wound seemed deadly, even to her.

Although I was the last to care about someone like Flare Girl, it pained me to see the beautiful superheroine lying bloodied in the street with all these idiots standing around with their cell phones snapping pictures of her. Whether it was compassion, which I have little of, or the instinct to do the right thing, I will never know. I went down the street and drove up in my car, honking the voyeuristic crowd aside. I picked up the dying superheroine in my arms and carefully set her in the luxurious cushions in the back seat. She bled all over the leather upholstery. I sped through town, looking at Flare Girl in the mirror, who seemed frightened.

“I’m saving you, Flare Girl,” I said. “I am a man with means. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her golden skin had turned pale white. I knew there wasn’t time. I had to take her to Project Z.

I brought Flare Girl into the Deadtrope Island warehouse and found the place occupied by only one of the lab scientists, a young prodigy named Kernitz. A shy, neck-bearded virign, he was a leading expert on exobiology. His interest seemed piqued when I informed him who I had in the car with me. He wrapped his arms under her shoulders and helped me pull her limp body out of the car. We set her on the ground, and I closed the aluminum door to the warehouse. If there was any time to be discreet about Project Z, it was now; no one knew the income I had earned from my property and casualty insurance franchises were paying for it.

“I can’t believe she’s here, Art,” Kerntiz said.

“She’s injured, Kernitz. She needs our help,” I said.

“Art, that pole, it pierced her body. I don’t know what we can do for her. She’s Flare Girl. Can’t she heal?”

“Flare Girl,” I knelt beside the injured superheroine. “Are you able to heal?"

“I don’t know,” Flare Girl whispered, forcing air through her lungs. “I need sunlight.”

“I’ll put her under a UV lamp,” Kernitz said. “To start. I need to get this metal out of her without killing her. I could cauterize the wound, if I knew how. And I don’t know what organs were damaged, or how to repair them. You should have taken her to the Mayo Clinic. This is a science laboratory. I’m not a medical doctor.”

“You’re an expert in alien biology and that makes you a doctor. We don’t have time, Kernitz. Get her under the lamp quick. I’ll try and get Bloch and Frankel here.”

We lifted Flare Girl, Kernitz gently cradling her shoulders as I held her ankles, and we carried her onto a steel table in one of the specimen staging areas. Kernitz had prepped the table with paper towel, but the paper was quickly soaked with her blood. Kernitz grabbed the UV lamp out of closet and plugged it in. He turned it on, and its artificial rays focused over Flare Girl’s body, although I doubted they would do much to heal her. It was imperative that we got that pipe out of her, although it would be difficult to undergo any procedure on her extraordinary body safely, even with a laboratory that specialized in alien biology.

I left Kernitz, the shy introvert, alone with Flare Girl, and trusted he would stick with procedure. Then, I walked across the floor of the warehouse from the lab to the office, where I sat down and immediately began to dial a number.

I heard a supercilious voice with a German accent answer on the other line. It was Bloch. He had never heard of Flare Girl, apparently, and was very busy. He nearly hung up the phone. Just another insurance prospect, I thought, as I began to persuade him to leave his work and help with a much more pressing matter. Bloch had no emotion to appeal to.

“Flare Girl, if she really is that important, and deserves my attention, and is of any interest to our work at Project Z,” Bloch said, “will, I suppose, excuse me from my important work at the moment. However, I will hold you responsible for any work or time lost, since you are the financier of this project. Frankly, I think it is unorthodox that you would take such a direct role in this lab’s proceedings, or demand something of this nature from us, to save a girl. Surely, there are other agencies that can deal with this problem.”

“I understand, Dr. Bloch. But I was there. I saw her. And I know that no other agency is as well-equipped as ours, with you heading our research. I’m afraid your ingenuity and talent at Project Z is the reason I brought Flare Girl here. I trust you have the ability to take care of her.”

“Of course,” Bloch said. “I’ll be there soon.” There was one emotional appeal that worked on Bloch. Now I needed Frankel, a quick-thinking and solidly-built tech. I dialed his number, but it went to voicemail. I sat in the little, air-conditioned office room wondering. My liability, should Flare Girl die on my premises, or perhaps be accidentally killed by our intervention, had never been considered. I now began to think of my own commercial liability policy on this building. Was there an exclusion for superheroines? I hoped Bloch and Frankel would arrive soon.

The phone rang and it was Frankel.

“Got your message. Be there in ten minutes.” The line went dead. I trusted his word.

I walked back across the floor to the laboratory on the other side. Kernitz had done something. He had peeled off the heroine’s torn halter shirt, and she lay bare-breasted on the table, still wearing her skirt and boots.

(...)

Flare Girl: Chapter One

Continued

The other two scientists arrived, abandoning the other important work they were doing across the island on a different specimen, as Bloch grudgingly informed me. He had went into the laboratory area and grabbed a smock. I then stood with Bloch, Kernitz, and Frankel, who was still wearing his heavy metal band t-shirt. We were huddled in a corner of the warehouse floor away from where Deadtrope's famous superheroine lay dying, having won, then lost to the metallic monster that had fatally wounded her.

The warehouse floor wasn’t air-conditioned like the converted laboratory space and it was hot and humid where we gathered. When I had purchased the warehouse, there was no climate control at all. After converting part of the warehouse space to a science laboratory, I spent a lot renovating the newly constructed laboratory, but put little work into the surrounding warehouse floor, which was used to store supplies for the lab, and hypothetically, to house a large specimen. However, I had purchased an expensive crane for such a purpose, which hung in a dark corner.

Thankfully, not a penny was spared in designing the lab space, and Flare Girl could rest comfortably. The temperature in the lab rooms could be carefully controlled, specified to one hundredth of a degree. The specimen area was set at a cool 72.35 F.

“The metal obstruction will be removed," Bloch said, "but we risk exsanguination. Therefore, it is paramount that she heals quickly. Frankel has informed me that Flare Girl has the power to regenerate, aided by the sun. I see that Kernitz used a UV lamp, but we can do more to activate her regenerative abilities. We do not have the science, or the medicine to treat her ourselves. She must do it on her own. But I believe we can motivate her, and that motivation just might save her. What do you propose, Kernitz?”

“We’ve studied regenerative species, like Flare Girl, if she falls into that genera,” Kernitz responded. “What we know about them is that they have special cells similar to our T-cells, which are able to fight off threats to physical structures the same way our body fights off internal infections. These cells can regenerate whole structures rather quickly. In theory, they could rebuild Flare Girl’s arm, were it severed. We don’t how these cells work in Flare Girl’s body, if she has them, but there may be a specialized organ in Flare Girl’s body that manufactures these cells, which was damaged by the metal spear. That’s why her restorative powers aren’t working now, at least, theoretically, with the limited amount knowledge we have about regenerative species.”

“And if this special organ were damaged, Kernitz, what we would do? Is it safe to say there is no hope for Flare Girl?” said Frankel.

“She might have a reserve capacity to produce these ‘peril cells,’ as I call them, somewhere else in her body. We examined a regenerative specimen after the invasion of ’42, a being that Flare Girl fought, actually. Flare Girl’s powers had decimated the creature, however, when we examined the tissue samples, we learned that its cells were still trying to rebuild the tissue, even when separated from the body. As you remember, we watched as the peril cells had practically reconstructed the organ before it became unstable. My conclusions were that the supply simple ran out, otherwise the organ might have been sustained.”

"Assuming she has this capacity, her body is probably too parsimonious in dispensing these reserves,” Bloch interjected. “It will wait until the point of death to release them. That's what I meant by motivation. We need to motivate her to release these cells en masse, using extreme means if necessary.”

"So if we trick her into thinking she has reached the end point, before she actually reaches it..." Frankel said.

"Then her reserves will rush from every corner to save her. Her whole regenerative system will attack with maximum force. The cells will restore their regenerative organ, and the body will heal at a rapid rate, preventing exsanguination. Her body will continue to heal herself, and she will be as good as new," Bloch said.

"How do you trigger her ‘peril cells’, if they even exist? What are you saying, doctor?" I said.

"We need to make her fight, Steelman, or we need to bring the fight to her," Frankel said.

"Whatever you do, do not harm her," I warned.

"We might have to," Frankel said. He tossed the cigarette he had been smoking on the floor of the warehouse and squished it under his toe. It left a black smudge on the polished floor. Kernitz looked at me seriously. Bloch smirked. All their PhDs and I had an A.L.A. from Deadtrope Community College. I couldn't argue this point. I just hope that whatever they did to her would work.

They went back to the lab. I strolled across the floor and sat in my office. I pulled up yesterday's edition of the Deadtrope Journal and began to read the same words I had read yesterday. I could see them in the window, across the floor, huddled around the table. My mind began to wander. I wondered if I the back door to my house was locked. I had rushed this morning into the office. We were acquiring a regional P&C firm in California, and it was a very busy time to take on extracurriculars.

"Art...Art?" It was Kernitz. He stood in the opening to the office. I don't know how much time had passed.

"What is it?” I said.

"I don’t know. We got the metal out of her body, and the bleeding stopped. But, she doesn’t look well. I don’t know if she’s recovering or not. You better come over here, Art.”

I dropped the Journal and darted across floor back to the laboratory space, darting into the staging area where Flare Girl’s helpless form was still lying. My middle-aged body was halted by the brief sprint and I caught my breath. I stared down at the superheroine. The sight of her wasn’t as nearly as macabre as it had been. She was no longer bleeding and the table had been cleaned. There was a red line across her stomach where the metal projectile had pierced her, but the wound had clotted and her skin appeared to be healing. I had butterflies, realizing that Dr. Bloch’s trick had worked and bringing her to Project Z wasn’t hopeless after all. But then I looked at her face. Her pretty blue eyes were pleading with me, and I noticed some bluish marks around her neck that I hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” she whispered. “My body...”

“It worked, Flare Girl,” I said. Bloch and the other scientists left the small lab area and went out into the hot and humid warehouse floor to coalesce. I was alone with the superheroine in the quiet room. Her shrill whisper pierced me like a frozen gust in the climate-specified chamber.

“I’m dying, Art,” she whispered. “The wound was too great... damaged...organs. You can’t –” Her breath couldn’t sustain any more notes. I could see her lungs collapse in her chest. She drew another harsh breath.

“What can I do, Flare Girl?” I said. I bent beside the table and looked at her youthful face. It pained me to see such exquisite pain and despair on it. I wish I could have my memory erased of just that moment, as that fearful look in the superheroine’s eyes would haunt me forever.

“My skin... heals...quickly. But...the sun won’t help me now. “It’s... too late. I’m...sorry.” She drew another tortured breath. I didn’t dare look at her uncovered breasts. Kernitz, that pervert.

“You can’t die, Flare Girl,” I said. “You mustn’t. Deadtrope needs you. I need you. You probably saved my life and everyone else’s life at that bar today. The monster could have destroyed us. There must be some way to save you. You’re too important Flare Girl. This just can’t happen!” I threw my arms up in frustration. Her blue eyes were tearing up, pleading with me. Then, as if some happy sprite flitted past her face, her fearful eyes turned liquid and clear, and I thought I saw a coloring of hope in her cheeks, which had turned white and deathly pale, amidst her peril.

“I see it,” she exclaimed, ignoring her pained body. “Your aura, Art. It’s all around you.”

“What?”

“Your aura. It’s... beautiful.” Her lungs collapsed again and she panted for breath, wheezing. I realized now that the metal must have pierced them in some way. Although her incredible skin had healed smoothly and invisibly over the wound, it left the damage to her failing organ intact.

“What is it? Flare Girl? What aura?” I was at loss to understand the words that she had sputtered. I wasn’t aware of any aura that I have ever had, other than Old Spice and the stench of happy hour cocktails.

“Come closer,” she moaned.

“Hmm?”

“Art, please!” The exhalation forced her into another wheezing episode. “Clo...ser,” she panted. I bent over the edge of the table towards her, marveling at her beautiful, young visage. She was so perfect. I knew there must be a way, that she couldn’t possibly be defeated by some blunt instrument. She was Flare Girl.

“Co.. m...eee...clos...e...rrr,” she mumbled. I bowed my head lower towards her, grasping the edges of the table. I stared at her plush, velvet lips, which had regained their vibrant red hue. Then, she using whatever strength she had left, she grasped my temples and pulled me into her lips, and kissed me deeply. I felt her soft, receptive lips moving against mine, and was completely taken aback. Kissed, by the famous Flare Girl! Even so, I kept kissing her. Something demanded it.

Her strength seemed to leap up from some hidden well towards me. She drew her hands around my neck and pulled me to her sharply, almost yanking me off my feet; I had to shift my position over the table. She kissed me passionately. My hands instinctively felt for her breasts, were which were as soft and firm as I could have imagined them.

Flare Girl kept kissing me and running her fingers through my hair. I felt her little, soft tongue gyrating in my mouth, felt the smooth skin of her large, pert breasts, her hard nipples popping out between my fingers. How I dared even touch them; they seemed like sacred artifacts. But Flare Girl was begging me with her eyes to touch her. She let go of me, and I ran my hands all over her smooth, firm body, pivoting over the table so I had more access to her. I squeezed her nipples felt my way down to her hard, flat stomach; her wound had all but disappeared. Her strength returned, pulsing through her young, tight body like she had never been defeated that day.

(...)

Flare Girl: Chapter One

Continued

The sexy superheroine moaned softly as I fondled her precious, young body. I pushed her skirt up, revealing her a set of gorgeous thighs, and I was lost in them, squeezing them, kissing them, worshipping them. They were so smooth. Then, I saw the yellow panties she wore, an orange star on the front of them, spun from the same stretchy, shimmering fabric as her uniform. I suddenly became aware of what I was about to do, to this powerful personage, and I stopped myself. Then I looked back at Flare Girl's yellow panties, nestled over her crotch. The texture of them looked so soft, silky. Flare Girl spread her legs, bending them at the knees.

"Pleasure yourself, Art. Please. I can offer all the pleasure you want."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Do hurry." Flare Girl smiled, a row of perfect white teeth, her blue eyes glittering. I was lost again, so incensed with arousal I couldn't stand it. I pulled beautiful youth’s bikini down her legs, and crawled on top of the table. I unfastened my slacks and pulled them down. My blazer and tie I dumped into a pile next to the slacks on the floor. I looked at Flare Girl for one more sign of approval, then I moved on top of her, gripping the edge of the table above her head. Her eyes lit up in delight. I felt myself go into her, smothered by her warm, moist flesh. Every thrust was a dream. She was so young, so firm. I felt something tug at me, like I had never felt from any woman before, squeezing me with rhythmic tugs. I felt a splash of moisture. Flare Girl was moaning, lifting her body off the table. I wanted to cum so badly. But I didn't want any of this to end. I had ways to keep myself erect, tricks I learned throughout the years. I used them all now, as Flare Girl's rhythmic pussy begged me to cum.

Flare Girl came first. Her moans echoed through the small room and all her muscles convulsed at once. She squeezed me tightly and I had no choice but to obey. I felt my hot semen pour inside her naked womb. Flare Girl's muscles were still twitching. Her thighs jiggled as they shook. The muscles in her stomach, which was now completely healed, spasmed under her skin. Flare Girl was grasped the sides of the table, taking short, shallow breaths, her chest rising and falling in jerky movements.

I felt her wet cum all over my cock as I slid my briefs back on. I got off the table. Flare Girl was still cumming. And I had had her. Me, of all people.

But all of a sudden Flare Girl sat up. She pulled her panties back over her legs and pushed her brief little skirt down, which hardly came four inches down her thighs.

"My uniform. Art."

"Yes, I said, coming out of my trance.

"The uniform they cut off. I need it back."

"Of course," I said. Then I noticed the men who had congregated outside the lab, looking in through the windows. Kernitz had a permanent blush on his face. Bloch still had his evil smirk. And Frankel had split. No idea where he was, using the restroom, perhaps. I still felt like I had been in another world. I felt my erection returning. Left to my own devices, I would have been with her all night into the morning.

“Uhhh... need anything, Art?” Kernitz said. I realized I was still in my whitie-tighties. I took my slacks out of the pile, straightened out my shirt and tucked it in.

“Her clothes,” I said, coming out to meet the scientists.

"They're in the sink," Bloch said. I went back into the lab and into another room where the wash basin was located. I saw her orange halter shirt hanging there, in pieces. I also saw something else. A cable, with grippable handles attached to either end, lying in the sink. A garrote. Then I remembered the bluish marks on her neck, which had by now vanished. I was horrified. I raced back out to the men, where they were still standing, chuckling at me, and confronted them with it.

"What is this?" I said, pointing to it.

"Oh, that's nothing," Kernitz said sheepishly.

"Dr. Bloch, do you know what this is?"

"You should ask Frankel. He's the one who did it."

"Under your fucking orders! Now what did you do, Dr. Bloch. Don't tell me you... strangled Flare Girl!"

"You fucked her," Bloch said.

"Why you sonofabitch!"

"Art, please!" Flare Girl cried out form the lab. She was sitting on the edge of the table, wrapping her arms around her nude breasts. I had my hand around the twisted doctor's smock.

"Give me my clothes. I'm naked," she said. I gave Bloch a sneer and I let go of his coat. I went through the open doorway and handed Flare Girl her cut up uniform. She did something to it with her hands, kneading the fabric between her fingers. Before long, the whole shirt was in one piece, and she placed it over herself, covering her body, the sight of which was still scrolling through my memory. She stood up from the table in her adorable uniform, with her fleeting skirt and her sweet cleavage opening out of the halter top, adorned in bright, shiny colors, with that gleam the fabric had. The more I stared at her in her costume, the more I wanted her. Never did I feel so completely lost in a woman, like I did with Flare Girl. I thought of all her sweet curves under her uniform, her sweet, smooth skin. Flare Girl caught my glance. She smiled at me, with her pretty blue eyes. She's just a girl, Art. Cool it, I thought.

But she wasn't just a girl. She held out her hand and I took it, and I walked with her outside, ignoring the judgmental looks from Bloch and Kernitz. We stood in the fenced in yard by one of the loading areas. Flare Girl turned to me with her intense eyes, scanning my features. I remembered that Flare Girl was known for being perceptive, even though I tried to hide what I felt, just then. Mask it under a masculine pretense. She saw right through me. I could hear the compassion in her voice as she started to talk to me. It was not the emotion I wanted to hear.

"I know it doesn't make sense but you saved my life."

"You have to leave, don't you. Will I ever see you again?"

"No. I have a duty, Art, to the people of Deadtrope Island. What happened today was frightening, not just for me, but for them. I have to reassure them that I am okay. There are many more dangerous foes I have to face, and I must face them alone."

"Why, Flare Girl? Why did you let me do that to you? And those scientists. I swear, whatever they did to you in there –“

"Don’t worry about that, Art. I know it seems cruel, what they did, but they were trying help me. Of course, what they did didn’t work. My skin began to heal itself the moment they moved that cursed metal. I don’t know what happened today, Art. I’ve never been... hurt like that.”

“And you’ll be stronger because of it, Flare Girl. But why. Why did you let me –“

“I didn't let you do anything. I made you. I can see it now, your healing aura. It’s something I’ve only seen on my home city, and in hospitals in my city, nonetheless. I don’t understand it."

“What aura? What do you mean?”

"I don't know. But you saved me Art. You drove up in your car, took me away from those vultures, and did everything in your power to save my life. It is because of men like you that I protect this island. Not those automatons taking pictures of me to get likes on their pages, but real men like you, who have courage, strength, daring, kindness. You are the people I fight to protect. You know why?"

"Why is that?"

"Because one day a man like you will come and save my back. And I won't have to hold this island up on my own."

I stared at the astonishing superheroine as she uttered her testimony. Flare Girl held me, and she drew her lips towards mine, one last time. We kissed, and I savored her sweet lips as long as I could, and then she turned, in her yellow skirt, raised one fist in the air and took off, darting like a yellow bullet through the sky.

End Chapter One

(...)

This is a great story. I remember reading it when it was first posted and really like both Flare girl and Art's character. Is there a sequel? I would love to see a sequel pitting Flare girl against a powerful opponent or a skilled fighter with a more drawn-out fight. Thanks for the story.

There might be a sequel in the works. I'm glad you liked the story. Thanks for reading! (Hope I didn't fuck up the edit. I lost the original version and had to re-edit the rough to post this one.)