Super Hot Chick 2112
by X-Writer
The year 2112. It struck Cyleria Kr'stan as somewhat odd that they were still even going by that numbering system for the years . . . twenty one twelve, 2112 . . . and it was weird to think about how the calendar systems had changed just since 2102. For instance, before that, they didn't even have the Green Return Time system!
But there wasn't much time to think right now. Life in 2112 meant always moving, moving, moving from place to place, never stopping for long. Thinking profoundly usually had to be done as multi-tasking. Cyleria Kr'stan was on the way to an important board meeting in Italy. From her home in Old Titty City, she wondered what the fastest way to get there would be.
“The fastest route is the underground bullet train to Venice,” said Salvadir, her possible future employer. The sight of his face was coming up on the square screen of her QuickTouch. Quickly, she put the screen away, so that the QuickTouch would shrink back into being a two-inch black stick, and then she stuffed it underneath her shirt and between both boobs.
Venice, Italy. She had to go all the way from Old Titty City to Venice for this interview. The fastest way was obviously by train. She still had to eat and go to the bathroom, but there was no time now; she'd have to wait till she was on the train.
Cyleria walked outside her home. There was something nice and old-fashioned about living in a two-story home down at ground level. Looking up at the sky, she saw the moon in between the famous sight of the five tallest towers of Old T.C. The moon in the sky was visible . . . and it was staggering to think that there were over 200 people living and working on that moon every day, while she was down here, a mouse at the street level . . .
No matter. The cars were all flying down the road, some moving 100 mph., some moving 50, depending on the lane. She knew better than to try to walk through the road. Sticking to the sidewalk, she walked quickly through the crowd of walkers, trying to get to the subway station.
She used her QuickTouch. “Where's that subway station I'm looking for?” she asked, and she extended the two-inch stick to a full six inches, then pulled out the glass screen. Instantly, there was an aerial map image on the screen of where she was, with a red circle around the nearest subway station, 3.4 miles away.
So she ran, and she ran, but there was one other thing she wanted to know. “Superheroes,” she said. “Tell me about the superheroes.”
Superheroes. Pictures and videos quickly flashed across the screen, for two seconds at a time. At the bottom, the message “IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?” was written. A green check-mark icon indicated YES. A red X indicated NO. It was up to her to press one of those two with her thumbs . . .
YES, she pressed, once she got to the sight of Super Hot Chick.
Super Hot Chick. Alicia Perkison Breasts. Born in 1987. Became Super Hot Chick in 2008. Thanks to Randy Addelson and Chris Sands for helping to coin the name Super Hot Chick. Died in 2055. Survived at that time by two children and five grandchildren.
The QuickTouch showed her more. It showed her Super-Chick fighting Ice Lady and Mrs. Crow, back in 2008, a whole other time. It showed her a naked Super-Chick battling a naked Impostor at a ball game. It showed her Super-Chick in an all-black costume, which began to come apart as she tried to tear away at it.
Relevant newspaper articles from that time period came up. Articles about how she had gotten her powers. Articles from later decades, once all the wonder of what she looked like naked had died down – articles about exactly how she'd gotten those powers, from a falling meteor.
A small rock fell in between Cyleria Kr'stan's two breasts, and became stuck there.
She gulped. She wasn't sure what to do. She looked up at the sky. There was the usual traffic of flying cars up above, passing right through her view of the Sun . . . that same sight she always saw at this time of day, with the Sun getting covered and uncovered three times per second by the shadows of flying vehicles . . .
So where had that fallen rock come from?
No matter. She kept on walking down the street, noticing that other people were just as immersed into their QuickTouches as she was.
But the rock was still between both breasts. So she pulled on her shirt a little, almost exposing her cleavage for a second, to make the rock fall down her shirt. It then slid down her right leg and hit the ground.
But what if that rock were to have given you powers?, she wondered.
No time to worry about that: she had a subway train to catch.
The next half hour went by like normal. She got through the subway station. She paid the ?53 for her ticket, then used her QuickTouch to check her remaining account balance from her bank account. She was down to her last ?350. 350 sorkas – or “sorx” – couldn't last her that long.
“All right, folks, let's get one thing straight!!” yelled a crazy-looking man in an all-green costume. Cyleria had almost made it to her bullet train, but this lunatic was holding up the place before she could get all the way there. “I want some of your sorkas, and I want it now!!”
It was horrible. Cyleria was actually seeing it happen, in the subway station. A man was holding up a small crowd of rich folks with an old .50-gauge light-amper. The small metal weapon might have looked like a kid's toy, but she knew that one pull of its trigger could amplify enough light to fry a human being.
This was a trick that had been around for thousands of years. The robber was actually making his victims strip naked, and give him their clothes, so that they would be too embarrassed to go to the authorities.
But something new began to take over Cyleria. She began to feel more mighty. More powerful. It hit her very quickly that she had possibly gained new power – even if only for so short a time as one hour – for an important reason.
So she ran to the robber, and noticed that she had dashed there within a second. She backhanded him in the face. He dropped his light-amper. She was feeling amazingly confident now. She held up both hands, ready for a fight.
The robber, who so far had not finished hurting anyone, now ran away, right into the subway train. She followed.
A man in an all green outfit? Who could this person be? She was determined to find out; she chased after him, into the first boxcar of the subway train.
Inside, she saw the sight of a long aisle to walk down, surrounded by dozens of rows of seats. Lots of passengers were getting seated.
The man in green was getting away. But never mind that . . . Cyleria noticed dozens of glass screens hung up across the walls. They were showing a hidden camera's image of her.
Cyleria was wearing a black shirt, and black mini-skirt, going down halfway to her knees. The sight on the screens was correct, and was playing live! The camera slowly looked down her body. It zoomed in to her perky breasts.
She grumbled as she noticed that the crude close-up was playing identically on all the TV screens at once. She ran on down the aisle, but the image on the screens had frozen on her amazing breasts.
“Change the image!” she yelled.
So the image changed! A different camera had a perfect angle of her ass! She grumbled again, looking around for where the cameras could be.
Finally, she saw the TV screens show the sight of her tight mini-skirt. The camera angle lowered itself, looking upward, to gradually start to look up her skirt, revealing a lot of shadow, the skin of her upper legs, and, finally . . .
. . . lavender panties.
She gulped. She couldn't believe that someone, whoever it was, had just done that to her with the cameras and screens. On the big glass screen, the shape of her vagina lips were visible through her panties. The camera then switched to a purple lens, and then the shape of her vagina, in all its parts, was a lot more clear.
But she still had a bad guy to track down. Running quickly, she chased him down to the end of the first boxcar, where a metal wall led the way to the next one over.
Eeesh-oom, came that familiar sound of metal doors opening just before her body could hit them. The doors then closed behind Cyleria, and she walked on. She wasn't quite sure where the bad guy had gotten to by now.
Here, in this new boxcar, she could indeed see a dozen more glass screens on the walls, showing her as she walked around . . . but now it was different. Now she was naked on the screens.
“What?” she asked.
She looked down at her true self: fully clothed. Then she looked back up at the TV screens: there, she was naked. She waved her right hand around; the same movement followed on the TV. She groped her right breast with her right hand; the same movement followed on the TV. Just to be sure this wasn't a trick, she examined her pussy on the screen.
Click! There was the sound of a photo being taken. Indeed, there was her bare pussy, a still frame of it, and now that still frame was being played across the entire train.
“Surprised?” the man in green asked. She spun around, and found the man, typing on his QuickTouch, grinning diabolically.
“Are you . . . are you hacking the screens?!” she asked.
“Yes,” he admitted. “Because now you will be too embarrassed to pursue me! So you'd best just leave now with your dignity!”
The man in green ran off again.
But Cyleria wouldn't have it. She chased after him.
A mighty chase continued, while, on the screens, the image of her naked ass came back. The green man – who had the name MANTA written on his back – kept running, and typing.
Soon, every screen around her was showing a different image, all taken from pornography. Some screens showed different ladies stepping into a shower. One screen showed a girl taking off her two-piece bikini in a changing room. One showed a girl blowing a kiss to the camera and gladly dancing around while stripping. Another screen showed a girl in a bikini at an outdoor beach, getting her bikini strings violently untied from the back, and getting both pieces of her bikini pulled off completely.
Well, that sure would be a lot to distract the normal citizens. But Cyleria was overcome with new powers now. She leapt forward and pinned the guy to the ground in a second.
“What is it?” she asked. “Do you have stolen money? Stolen purses? Drugs?”
“No . . . I have THIS!!” he yelled, aiming his right hand at her to blast a yellow laser her way.
It struck her in the shoulder, and she screamed “No!” from panic. But soon, she saw the truth. The yellow laser cut through her clothing, but hadn't gone deep enough to hurt her skin. So he aimed the yellow laser from her left shoulder to the lower-right part of her shirt, to slice open a tear. She grabbed at her shirt. The yellow laser continued to slice lines in her clothing, with the next one aiming to cut the larger piece of clothing in two with a diagonal line. Soon, two thirds of her shirt were falling off. Another horizontal line did some more damage. Finally, she realized that her shirt was done for completely, and her bare boobs were seen.
Now that she was out of her shirt, her breasts bounced around. Her shirt had given her breasts comfort and protection; bras separate from the shirt had become obsolete long ago. Screaming, she covered up with both hands, but realized that her bare essentials were being seen.
“I'm doing this to prove a POINT,” the maniac screamed. “Underneath all this present day, this 2100, this 2112, really, we are all just bare, naked animals.”
She just couldn't believe that he had forced her to stay topless like this. “In fact!” he added. “While we're at it, why not go ALL THE WAY!” And so he aimed the yellow laser at her again, but set the power to fives times what he had done before, catching her entire body and more in the enormous blast of light. Gradually, he saw it happen: he saw her pants break away and disintegrate, piece by piece. He let go of the trigger to his weapon. The pants still continued to sizzle into a million small black dots. Then they were gone completely. She still had her panties, but those too began to sizzle away, and then they fell off to the ground. Now she was completely, one hundred percent naked, all her clothes incinerated.
“You shoulda been toast by now!!” he yelled. “You should be hot as a Surk-Coil engine right now!”
“But I'm not,” she said boldly, stretching one hand all the way to his neck from a far distance. Still naked, she stood with both feet apart on the floor, and tightened her grip on him. “I guess I'm getting more powerful. Like a superhero or something.”
“Wow, then, I bet you'd make a great f-”
Zhoom! Still keeping a grip on him, she flew right through the ceiling of the subway train, and flew right through the several feet of dirt beyond! Soon, she flew through the surface of the ground, and up into Old Titty City!
Still holding onto the criminal, she would not stop until she had set him down at the police station. Even though she was still naked, she had to do this: she could not let him get away with all the stuff he wanted to do.
It was quite a sight, flying at the ground level of Titty City. Cars flew down their magnetic routes, as they always did. She flew above those cars. People walked down the sidewalks, but nobody ever crossed the streets on foot – arch-shaped bridges connected the sidewalks on both ends, narrowly missing the fast-moving cars. As the cars flew down the street, the wind caused skirts to fly up, as women nearby were climbing up and down the stairs of the arch-shaped bridges.
So Cyleria flew above the magnetic cars and roads, and the sidewalk-bridges. Flying a little higher, she saw that the criminal she had captured was now screaming like a scared child, begging to be let go. Cyleria couldn't believe it – she was the one who was naked. So she left him at the doorstop of the police station, and flew away.
Up on a rooftop, she stopped to ponder what to do. Nearby, the city's drones flew through the air, conducting routine surveillance. A drone stopped as it drew close to her. It flew closer, inspecting again, and again. She was naked – on a public rooftop!
“That's a 1034A,” the drone machine said loudly. Down below, on a giant glass screen, a naked picture of Cyleria on the rooftop – taken by the drone – appeared, and caused much oohing and ahhing among men.
“I'm gonna have to do something about having a costume,” she decided out loud. “If I'm gonna be a superhero . . . might as well go all the way!”
So she spent the next hour designing a costume. She gathered supplies from nearby stores, still naked, then returned to the roof afterward to put the costume together.
Red and black hair dye. Red nipple paint. The name SUPER HOT CHICK written over the skin of her left side.
The costume was complete.
Forgetting the board meeting in Italy, she leaped off the roof, outstretching both hands to fall to the ground. She saw all the buildings, the flying cars, the rooftops . . . and then she began to fly right through the city.
And she knew that her life would be different from 2112 on. No longer would Old Titty City be a place where crimes went on, unpunished. No . . . there was a new protector here now . . . a new lady to call herself . . .
SUPER HOT CHICK.
The End