Note: Daphne Orgone was one of the most refreshing new voices in superheroine fiction when she debuted June 27, 2005 with her Yahoo RPG Bronze Babe and Friends, and then with her blog – witty and even wise, as you’ll see here in this archive, posted here just in case the original vanishes into cybernowhere. I miss her. I hope she’ll return some day. –B.T.E.

The Adventures of Super Daph

I'm just your average drop dead gorgeous invulnerable super powered young teenaged girl, honest. Actually, I'm very few of those things, but I am interested in what you might think of my writing experiment

If you could peer far enough into the night sky, you'd see a star in any direction you looked. When would you sleep?

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Welcome

Hey guys and gals and welcome to my little piece of the world wide web where I can let my hair down and tell all. See, here’s the thing, although I try my best to fit in with everyone else, I’m not. I’m different and always have been. Oh sure, in some ways, I’m just like any other teenaged girl. I have feelings and issues and I can go to pieces over stuff that no sane mature human being would give a hoot about. But, well, if you prick me, I don’t bleed. Matter of fact, you can shoot me or run me over with a truck and I still won’t bleed.

All this sort of makes my life complicated, and I decided to write this little blog to try, like therapeutically to sort things out sometimes. Sometimes, well, I need that, like someone to talk to about things, things that I can’t just talk to anyone about, at least not, well at least not all the time, on account of, well, its like.. you know that old comic book, Richie Rich? The one about the poor little rich kid? My dad collects them, only, well, its sort of like that. Its kind of wacky to feel sorry fro someone who’s got it better than most other people, and yet, having a few advantages doesn’t make you happier, necessarily, nor do they necessarily make up for the disadvantages.

Anyway, enough of this for now. I gotta head out now and do some stuff before school. I’ll try and write some more tonight.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

I hate gym class

I hate gym class

Yesterday was a perfectly example of why.  I’m sort of freaky about my body, on account of I’m not exactly made like most other girls.  Oh, the pieces and parts are all the same, at least superficially, but the thing is, there’s all sorts of weird stuff about me that I’m sure somebody’s gonna notice.

The biggest things are without doubt my boobs.  They’re big, at least for my height, but they’re like overly perky.  In fact, they’re not at all natural looking at least in my view.  Quite honestly, they’d probably look great on some porn star, but girls my age don’t usually have breast implants.  I don’t, but it sure looks like it sometimes, because they don’t sag right.  Mom says I’m making too big of a deal out of it, and them, too but I could swear that one of the other girls was staring at them the other day while I was getting dressed.

There’s other stuff that’s sort of weird about me, too, but it doesn’t like jump out at you like they do.  For example, there’s the whole body hair thing.  I don’t get razor stubble.  I don’t even own a razor.  Mercifully, I don’t have a whole lot of body hair, but when it does come time to get rid of it, the best way I’ve found to deal with it is with a mirror and a whole lot of staring on my part, until the whole heat vision thing kicks in.  Talk about tedious!!!

Anyway, what happened the other day, there’s this girl, lets call her Jane.  That’s not her real name, but she sort of looks like a Jane.  I’ve known Jane for years, and while we’re not exactly best friends, we sort of get along ok, and when she told me she really wanted to impress a guy, and … why I don’t know, but she figured she’d do it by being super basketball chick, I figured I’d try to help her out.  I got Jane the ball … a lot, and I got her the ball where she could score some serious points.  Its not all that hard when you can move way faster than any of the other girls and can pretty much throw the ball wherever you want it to go to do things like that.  So Jane like scored oodles of points, and I figured things would be great.

Well, I was wrong.  By the time class was over, Jane was all sweaty and gross, and I was getting dirty looks from just about everyone, except for the coach.  I know the budgets are tight and all, but girls gym classes ought to have women coaches.  Coach Collins is a nice guy, but, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from having X-ray vision, its that nice guys get hard ons too, and so when he came up to me at the end of class and started to talk to me about trying out for the basketball team, lets just say it was sort of hard to keep things in perspective. Like that clipboard thing really works.  He was real persistent though, and in the end, I agreed to try out for the team, if my parents would agree.

But then, when we started to get dressed, Jane kept looking at me.  It was, well, creepy, almost, the same way it feels when I’m out, not as me, but the costume and kicking some bad guy butt.  Only then, well, I’m sort of asking for it, using my body as a weapon so to speak.  No one stops when a 5’2” blonde in glasses and a sweatshirt yells stop, but you’d be amazed at how different it is when I wear something tight and clingy.  But there’s a big difference, because when I’m wearing a mask along with something flashy, I don’t really care what’s going through the perv’s mind in the last few seconds before I take him down.   With Jane, well, things were creepy, because I wasn’t used to it at school.

Usually, at school, I’m pretty non-confrontational.  Its sort of part of the whole secret identity thing, but I got a feeling, at least in Jane’s case, that may sort of have to change.  I was working on some kind of smart remark, something wittier than “what are you looking at?” but by the time I figured it out, she was gone.  The whole thing was just plain weird.

Friday, October 28, 2005

Supergirls make mistakes too

Supergirls make mistakes too

OMG, I can’t believe I finally made it home.  Tonight has been one of the most difficult ever, at least in the terms of being a superheroine.  Lots of times being plain old Daphne is tough, but usually, well, lets face it, if I’m not trying to hide what I can do, usually anyway, everything is just plain easy as … does “pie” sound to old fashioned.  Scratch that thought:  writing and trying not to sound like a ditz is pretty hard too, but I digress.

Tonight, after my family hit the sack, I got up, slipped into my costume du jour and went out to try and practice saving the world.  I say practice, because, well, unlike in the comic books,  all the real big stuff is sort of beyond my reach.  I mean, I’ll be damned if I know how to stop a hurricane or cure global warming, and, well, I might be able to stop wars and stuff, but not without hurting a whole lot of people, and, for better or worse, that’s something I don’t like doing.  Which is sort of what happened tonight.

As I said, I’m pretty much practicing the whole superheroine thing, picking up what I can from movies and from guys like Jeremy, who are like comic book encyclopedias.  I’m not exactly financially independent either, at least not yet, so my costumes usually consist of some relatively inexpensive clothing that I don’t really give a hoot about and a mask.  Tonight it was jogging shorts and a tank top, just to let you know what sort of stuff I’m talking about.  I may have the powers of those Kryptonian types, but I don’t have the budget or the wardrobe.  Maybe some day….

I’m digressing again.  Tonight was the night I was supposed to practice flying.  I’m pretty good at getting up and staying up as long as I keep moving, but things like turns and landings are still sort of rough, so I got to be real careful where I do it.  So I’d planned on jogging out of the subdivision and flying on over to the old racetrack where I could practice in peace and quiet.  They closed it down years ago, so there’s like no lights, no people, lots of open space, and no one cares if I mess up the grounds with rough landings.  

So, I’m  just about to take off when my superhearing picks up a scream.  A split second later, I think anyone could have seen the woman’s face in the back of the van, but, well trust me, I don’t think just anyone could have did what I did next.  I jumped on, sprinting until I caught up  to the van and grabbed the little ladder on the back.  Thinking back on it, I know I should have just like ripped the back door off and rescued the girl, but at the time it didn’t seem like that clear of a thing.  I mean, who knew, could be the driver was taking her to a hospital or something, and maybe I’d misread the whole situation.  So what I did was climb up on top and slip down into the passenger seat to have a little chat with the driver.  Civilized and thoughtful, right?

Well, it should have been anyway, but my tank top got stuck on the top of the car as I tried to slip into the window, and by the time I finally got in, it was too late.  What happened was pretty nasty, bad enough that even I felt the collision pretty hard.  Bastard ran the van off the road and smack dab into a tree.  He was dead as a doorknob,  pretty much made into human hamburger.  The woman in back, I got her out and left her at the nearest Emergency Room, but I don’t know if she’s gonna live yet.  She looked pretty bad, and in my experience, humans are real fragile.  

I wanted, really wanted to hang around and find out, but talking to the cops is something I’m really not big on, not after the time one told me he was gonna bring me down to the station for questioning and THEN, after we’d been like talking for ages out on the street, decided he needed to frisk me for weapons in the backseat of the car.  Talk about a jerk.  Anyway, even if I didn’t have school tomorrow, hanging around the hospital all night wasn’t gonna work, so I guess I’ll just try and see if it makes the news tomorrow.

Its sleepy time now for me, now that I’ve exposed myself as the bumbling idiot that I feel like.  I just hope, hope that I don’t dream about those poor people.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Super Basketball Girl

Super Basketball GirlToday was a good day, or at the very least it was loads better than last night.  School was… well it was school, not much to write about, but until about three o’clock the whole thing was pretty uneventful.  Go to class, get bored, try to pay attention, get distracted and wait for the bell.  That little cycle happened through a half dozen classes and unless I was going to write about what the distractions were, there’s just not a whole lot to tell.  Today’s distractions were relatively boring, even by my standards, so I’m going to let them rest.Basketball tryouts were at 3:30, though, and they at least were somewhat more interesting than the run of the mill stuff, I think.  I already told you about how I got suckered into trying out, and yeah, if you cut out the bs, the real reason is cause I have just a ferocious time resisting a cute guy, even and old guy when he asks me for something.  It’s a serious character flaw, especially in a girl like me, and I’m working on it, but I also know that you gotta recognize your issues to deal with em, right?So why did Coach Collins want me to try out?  Well, even I’m not dumb enough not to think that the guy liked the idea of watching me run around in shorts.  It sounds conceited, but lets face it, even in sweats with my hair a mess and all,  I still get guys staring at me eventually, and the more of me they can see, the weirder it gets.Its almost like another superpower really, although its not exactly one I find useful.  Most of the time, and you may not believe this, but its just a royal pain in the neck.  People want what they can’t have, and I think that’s why guys want me, and its also I think sort of why I want them, but that’s like a whole nother topic which will make a post all by itself.  Back to the whole basketball fiasco.The other reason Coach Collins must have wanted me was because I’d made a fool out of myself in gym class the other day, and he must be convinced he’s got like an assist machine in the making.  He’s right of course, on account of, I can pretty much outplay anybody, but I’d already decided how I was going to handle it.  Playing the complete dork wasn’t going to work.  I’d blown that already, so’s I was going to have to figure some other way to make sure I didn’t end up spending my life on the basketball court instead of out fighting crime, or even, let me just wish, having a social life.I decided it was best handled a different way. I shot the ball.  I shot the ball everytime I got it, and I shot it way, way off.  And when I did throw in a few passes, they were off target rockets or ridiculously high lobs that were never gonna work.  I didn’t want to hurt anyone.  By the time the practice thing was over I felt sure Coach was gonna tell me, thanks but no thanks.  I was dead wrong.  I made the team.Second string point guard, sure, but the girl ahead of me’s a senior, so I gotta feeling I’m going to have to figure out something or I’m gonna be facing the same problem next year.  This year, at least, basketball’s gonna just be one more pull on my time.Speaking of time, there’s one thing about this whole basketball thing I didn’t mention.  Coach picked two of us, both younger girls and told us he wanted both of us to come out for pickup games on Saturday mornings with some guys he plays with.  Now if he’d said that to me alone, I know for sure I’d have gone running right then, but if there’s two of us, it sounds more legit, huh?  I think I’m actually kind of looking forward to the whole thing, in a very weird sort of way.  As far as the girl’s team goes, it does kind of give me something “normal” to do, normal being sit on the bench, but still.  And the pickup games, um, well, I’m gonna make a little confession here.One of my secrets is, I sort of like having big sweaty men with their shirts off around me.  It’s not exactly something I’m proud of, but the fact is, I think I got at least the sex drive of any normal girl, maybe more, but its like really really frustrated.  Its ironic and really a whole mess.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Could someone explain to me how guys minds work?

Could someone explain to me how guys minds work?

I may be superhuman, but I’m definitely not capable of understanding the way guys think.  I thought I was, and to be quite honest, I thought I was better than most girls, on account of, not only do I have some good friends who are guys, but I also tend to be a little bit more capable of observing them than most girls.  I mean, its not something I do often, but I have looked into the guy’s locker room, and I also tend to hear things that other girls can’t sometimes.  None of that makes me understand how they work, though, and sometimes it can be really frustrating.

Ted is the perfect example.  He’s not exactly what you’d call a hunk, but the guy is seriously sweet, absolutely brilliant and not at all hung up on himself.  I guess you’d call him a geek, cause he does the whole glasses, pocket protector and chess club thing, but he’s also seriously interesting to talk to.  I’ve known Ted for like ages, and we even played together when we were kids and stuff, but the whole puberty thing kind of put this wall between us and I’d just about given up on hanging out together when he started acting all funny around me a couple of years ago.

Then, this morning, he blew me away.  I was just minding my own business in chemistry class when the teacher announced that we had to have partners for her latest experiment, and up out of the blue pops Ted, grinning and telling me he thinks we’d make a great team.  Me?  Ok,  granted I expected I’d end up with a guy for a partner, given the girls in the class, none of whom I’d consider exactly a friend, but I didn’t expect Ted to be the dumbass with a hardon who was willing to risk his grades by choosing me as his partner.  I’m not only a klutz, but I’m also not exactly what you’d call a brain.  I suck at science, and often have to have things explained to me like dozens of times.  Ted knew that as well as I did, so right off the bat, I knew his line about us being a great team was absolute horse shit.

Of course, I may not be a brain surgeon, but I’m not stupid.  Ted was sporting a serious boner, so if it was anyone else, I’d at least have been able to chalk up his sudden interest in me for hormones.  Only thing is, this was Ted, and the idea of Ted trying to get in my pants was like way beyond what I could imagine.  Ted didn’t make moves on girls, not even the girls who threw themselves at him, which I got to tell you, there have been a few.  The guy’s not exactly Joe stud, but anyone with any sense knows he’s gonna make a mint someday.  I know for a fact that Cecilia joined the chess club just to impress him, and she’s not the only one, either.  There’s like a whole gaggle of girl-nerds who’d drop their shorts for him in a split second, if he asked.

I’m sort of an outsider in school.  Most of the popular girls won’t have anything to do with me, and while the guys in that group sort of sniff around, the socially savvy ones figure out that I’m like poison as far as the popular girls go.  The nerds are sort of a different story, although it’s a bit more complicated.  I try real hard to keep up with some of them, but its not like I’m gonna ever make a debate team or be able to keep up with any of the science clubs or anything.  As much as I hang out with anyone, I sort of hang out with them, though, on account of they’re a lot less likely to make fun of me being not so bright, and, because as long as I don’t dress like an absolute tramp or pay too much attention to the guys when  they act goofy, some of the geeky girls are more tolerant.  It gets weird sometimes, but I’ve got some girlfriends among them, sort of anyway, and a couple of them even know things about me that no one else does.

Cecilia isn’t exactly in my inner circle, but she’s friends with some of them, and Ted’s sudden move made sort of freaked me out.  In general, I turn guys who are friends or even friends of friends down flat, cause I don’t need the trouble.  I’ve gone out with a few of the older guys, but if there’s like ANY connection with my friends, protecting my secret identity, and preserving my sanity and my friends makes me run like hell.  But Ted, for all his skinniness, his awkwardness, I’d always thought Ted was seriously cute and he’s just the kind of guy who NEVER seems to ask me out.  

So I was like seriously nervous when we started going through the details of the project, on account of I really was sort of hoping he might, and yet at the same time, I was dreading how it all might come down.   Of course, that only made it harder to follow the instructions, and when the fire started, I was like completely oblivious.

When Jessica screamed, instead of looking at the notebook in front of me catching on fire, I turned to see what in the blazes she was looking at, which gave the fire time to catch to my blouse.  Ted, god bless him, was like a knight in shining armor, although a seriously dorky one with all the wrong sort of weapons.  He grabbed my upper arm and at the same time started batting at the flames with his other hand.

As hairy as that was, things got even freakier when I got sent down to the nurse on account of the teacher was sure I must have serious burns or something, because my wrist was all black.  I avoid the school nurse like the plague, much like I avoid doctors of any sort, so it wasn’t like she knew me from Adam.  And the woman was like seriously freaked out when I showed her I wasn’t hurt.  After what seemed like an eternity, I finally convinced her to just send a note home to my parents, but by the time I got out of the nurse’s office, it was lunch time.

The minute I walked into the cafeteria,  I got the glares from a whole table full of girls, including Cecilia.  I did my best not to antagonize them, got through the line and headed over to the far side of the room just as Nicki Noriega came over to me.

“I can’t believe you did that…” Nicki said, grabbing me by the arm and all but shoving me into a seat.  “Cecilia’s going to make your life hell, girl.”

“Did what?” I asked in confusion.

“Don’t play stupid with me, Daphne.  Ronnie told me the whole story, about how you caught your blouse on fire just to get Ted, and she told Cecilia, too.”

I blinked, not quite certain what was going on, not to mention why Nicki Noriega, who dressed like a biker chick and hung out with the druggies was suddenly throwing herself into this mess.

“I didn’t, I didn’t catch myself on fire on purpose…” I blurted out, but Nicki cut me off.

”It doesn’t matter, Daphne, because not only does Cecilia think you did, but coincidentally, Ted just told Cecilia he didn’t want to be her debate partner anymore.  Dropped her like a hot potato.”

“I…..” I stammered, but Nicki stood up then and cut me off.

“Listen, Daph.  You and I, I know we’re not exactly buds, but Cecilia Smith is one class A bitch, and I know how she can spread rumors.”

“What sort of….?” I began, but Nicki was gone by then, back to her circle of friends.

Lo and behold, just then, with Cecilia and her gang still shooting mean looks at me, Ted came up and sat down right next to me.

“Are you ok, Daph?” he said reaching for my arm.

Instinctively, I started to draw it back, but once he got a grip, I relaxed and let him see it was all ok.

“Yeah, um, I’m fine, Ted.  Just, um a klutz is all.  See, the black stuff washed off.”

Ted smiled and my heart started pumping.

“Good, Daph.  I was worried about you.  Uh, listen, I was kind of thinking, maybe we ought to work on the experiment stuff after school.”

I shook my head, but before I could blurt out about basketball practice, Ted was moving on.

“Or better yet, how about Friday night.  My big brother’s having a party out by the pool, lots of his college friends and all, and we could relax some and then I’ll explain the rest of the project to you then.”

My eyes widened, and I barely managed to get the words out.

“A pool party?” I said, suddenly realizing what that meant.  “I don’t I mean.. I don’t..”

“Don’t what, Daphne?” Ted said grinning, although it was a very strange sort of grin and his voice sort of quivered.  “Don’t want to work on the project or don’t want to be with me?”

He had me there, got me right where it hurted with that combination of suaveness and vulnerability as he expected me to reject him.  I bit into the meal he’d offered me with my mouth wide open.

“No, Ted, that’s not it, really, its just, um, its Cecilia. Why….”

“Cecilia?” Ted exclaimed, but before I could explain, he had it all figured out.  I told you he was smart didn’t I?

“Cecilia is a bitch” Ted said as he leaned over, “and if you’re smart, you won’t worry about her.  I couldn’t deal with her anymore as a debate partner, not because she’s not good, but because she’s, well, she’s just plain mean.  I’m talking about you, me, a party full of college kids, and …”

He leaned over even closer and I got lost in those eyes of his, even through his glasses.

“Listen Daph.  We’re not tight like we used to be, and I regret that, but I’m asking for you to do me a favor.  I need a date to the party, Daphne, and I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”

“Why?” I stammered.

He smiled.

“Because, I like you Daphne.  Is that good enough?”

“Um…” I began, “no, not um if….”

“Chill, Daph” he said grinning.  “Ok, I do want to have a hot chick on my arm just to get my brother off my back, but  you’re not.. I mean, I can talk to you.  We can have fun with it at the same time.  If you don’t, if you don’t want it to….”

Finally I got up the nerve to speak up, really speak up, before he said what I knew he was going to say.  

“I’ll go, Ted” I said smiling, “if you promise to stop giving me that look..”

“What look?” he said.

“The little hurt puppy look…. It makes me feel like a real bitch, like I ….”

“Then I’ll smile, Daph” he said grinning.  “We’ll have fun, and if the party’s lame we can skip out or whatever.  As long as I make an appearance, I don’t care, and I really do want to spend time with you.”

By the time the bell rang, I was on cloud nine.  Could it really be happening?  Did Ted really ask me out, not just because he thought he could get lucky with me, but because he actually liked me?  I hoped so, I know I really wanted that, and Ted was, well, I’ll be quite honest with you, I didn’t at all mind the idea of making out with Ted.  If I thought, well, if it was possible to go all the way with a guy, while he might not be the most physically imposing sort of guy, I’d put Ted up at the top of the list.

The rest of the day went by, but I was pretty much on cloud nine.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Self Pity is really depressing

Just thinking about Ted must be getting to me.  Last night after I finished writing, I had some pretty vivid dreams and let me tell you, they weren’t anything that’s possible in reality.  I’ve heard that its, at least on some level, a biological thing for women to fantasize about getting overpowered and taken by a guy, but I doubt I react to rape fantasies like most other girls.  When I woke up this morning and remembered, I broke out crying almost immediately as I realized just how screwed up my sex life, both real and imaginary was.

And I guess waking up that way kind of messed me up all day.  To start with, for some unimaginable reason, instead of the baggy clothes I normally wear to school, I slipped on a pair of tight jeans and a t-shirt, not bothering with either a bra or a jacket and ducked out before my parents could see me and remind me.  I haven’t dressed like that for school in years and now that the day is over and I’ve got some perspective, I guess I realize why.  I’m going to pay a price for it; I just don’t know how high its going to be.

  As I walked into the school parking lot, the first guy I ran across dropped his jaw and by the time I got into the building, there were probably a dozen similarly lust stricken adolescent guys lining the route I’d taken.  At the time, I just didn’t give a shit.  I made my way to my locker, remembering just in time to be gentle with the lock and started putting away my books.  I felt his breath on the top of my head a split second before I felt his hand on my shoulder, and by the time he tugged on my shoulder to turn me around, I somehow had enough sense to let him.

Billy Jensen was sort of a legend on campus for any number of reasons.  One reason was his body, something I couldn’t possibly miss since his bulging pecs were basically at my eye level.  Unlike most of the girls, I knew something else about Billy’s body.  His muscles weren’t the only thing enormous about him, and I expect that rather freakish part of his anatomy had a lot to do with his other problems.  Billy was basically a freak, a monster of a guy who seemed to lack the sort of self critic at times.  He scared the living daylights out of girls, although to be fair, I don’t think he really intended to most of the time.

I don’t have one, but I’ve seen enough of them to have a theory that guy’s dicks are probably the biggest influence on their daily routine, way beyond their brains.  And Billy had a whopper, the biggest I’d ever seen, including that thing Marky Mark wore in that movie.  Again, I’m no expert in biology, but it seems to reason that when the blood rushes to something that big, the brain’s got to suffer.  And whether it was a result of repeated trauma, or just an added handicap, Billy was not the swiftest guy to begin with, and remember who’s telling you this.

“Heya, doll” Billy said as I looked up, way up to find his goofy and yet still menacing face.

If I hadn’t known Billy since we were both kids, I don’t want to think about what I might have done.  I was pissed, horny, but still pissed, and playing with a so called big strong man might have been too much of a temptation just then.  But it was Billy, and seeing as I knew him, it was a lot easier to see the vulnerability there, and I’m a sucker for vulnerability.  He was putting on a show and he was desperately trying to come onto me, but underneath it all, I could see just how pitiful he was.

I didn’t hurt him, at least not the way I could have.  I just reached up with a seemingly tiny hand and spun him around, pinning his big body against the locker with my hand before I stepped in and pressed my boobs against him, just hard enough to knock the breath out of him and pin him, leaving my hands free to roam those big muscles of his.

“You shouldn’t do that Billy” I said smiling up at him even as I squeezed his butt and then pressed his swollen crotch against my leg.  His diaphragm was pretty much being crushed by my boobs, and the only sound that really came out of him was a sort of whimpering sound, but the throbbing thing against my thigh told me he was still enjoying himself.  I don’t know that I would have done next, but it’s a fair bet I’d have regretted it even worse than what had already happened.  Thankfully, it was at that moment that Cassie’s voice broke me out of the daze I was in.

“Daphne!!” she shouted as she ran down the hall towards me.

My head twisted, and a split second later, I backed up, letting Billy slip to the floor.

Cassie, was still running towards me when the tears started flowing from my face, but I was gone long before she made it across the hallway.

I skipped the rest of school today, and spent a great deal of it on top of a water tower, alternating between crying and staring at my cell phone as the messages started to rack up.  I couldn’t answer it, didn’t want to talk to anyone.

All day long, I pretty much meditated over my predicament and wallowed in self pity.  I’m a freak.  A superficially desirable one, maybe, but when you get down to it, an incredibly dangerous and unstable freak whose pretty much doomed to a miserable and lonely life.  All my life, even before hormones gave me urges which simply can’t be satisfied, I’ve hurt people, and more often than not, its been the people I love most.  My dad’s back still goes out at times, and even my mom’s got ribs that ache when the weather gets cold.  Billy was lucky.  I probably scared him a bit, but I don’t think I really hurt him.  Other guys, granted mostly bad guys, but human beings nonetheless, they weren’t so lucky.

I can count the number of real dates I’ve had in my life on one hand.   However, I’ve long since lost track of the number of sad and pathetic quasi sexual encounters I’ve had with criminal types out on the street.  Its sick and it makes me feel bad afterwards, but fact of the matter is, I’m pretty damned horny, and I need someone to practice with.  And since I’m not going to risk hurting good people, why not practice with the criminals.  Thing is, while I keep trying, each and every encounter is incredibly frustrating, both physically and emotionally.   I’ve sworn off playing with the bad guys a half dozen times, but the thing is, I gotta have some outlet, and messing with an attempted rapist in a dark park is way more healthy than what happened with Billy for example.  

I don’t care what you hear about women and sex and relationships, I think I really need both, and I don’t think either one is ever really gonna work out for me.  Sex …, well, in a conventional sense, its just never gonna happen.  Without getting really gross, I just don’t think its physically possible for soft male flesh to do what it takes.  And even without intercourse, a guy’s pretty much risking his life making me squirm.  Sexual frustration is a real issue for me, and its connected to, but at the same time, wholly distinct from the whole loneliness and relationship thing.

I mean face it, what kind of a relationship can I have with a guy?  I have tried to figure out how it might work.  Bottom line is, though, when sex enters into the equation at all, the whole thing gets all messed up.  Last summer was a perfect example.  The guy was into me and I was into him, and while I didn’t tell him everything, he was willing, hell he was ecstatic about just making out and he didn’t even complain about the bruises and stuff.  But the more we messed around, the worse the relationship angle got.  I wanted it too, but the more we did, the closer we got physically, the farther apart we got emotionally.  Joey started to get obsessed with me, and yet, at the same time, he got more and more pitiful, like a puppy who’s willing to do just about anything to get petted.  That’s cool at first, but after awhile, I could tell I was screwing up his life, and I really didn’t like what it was doing to me either.  I broke it off with Joey, and I stopped answering his calls, but it still bothers me.  Did I screw him up permanently?  

Guilt is really a pretty nasty thing for me, because, well, I have a whole lot of things to feel guilty about for a girl my age.  The physical stuff, that’s bad enough, but emotionally, I know I’ve hurt an awful lot of people as well, and the only way I can avoid doing that entirely is not to relate to people at all, which I’m not willing to do, at least not yet.  Its not just sex, only that’s the biggest part of it at the moment.  Even my closest friends, even my girlfriends I keep sort of at a distance, and I know somewhere, they resent me as much as I resent them.  

All in all, I spent most of the day contemplating my own navel, which is pretty freaky, but when I’d done soul searching, wallowing in my own misery, I still pretty much ended up with no real answers, except to keep trying.  I mean, what other choice do I have?  Near as I can tell, suicide, even if I could bring myself to do it, its just not an option.  

The only real option I do have is to keep trying what I’ve been trying, building walls around this part of my life and that one, and trying to make each little enclosure the best it can be.  The whole crime fighting thing, sometimes I think its really dumb, but I hope, I want to believe that somehow, eventually I can find some sort of satisfaction there that will help me deal with the rest of my life, which pretty much sucks.  And the personal stuff, well, I keep hoping that will get better too, and it might.  I have good days and bad days.  Today was, well, today pretty much sucked, but tomorrow might be better.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

The Party

Ted picked me up for the party tonight and things went a whole lot better than I expected.  From the moment we got into the car, Ted was talking to me like, well, sort of like partner or something, on a secret mission.  Want to guess what the mission was?  It was pretty much a question of teaching his brother’s obnoxious friends a lesson, and while it was pretty weird to be used like as a weapon or something, it was pretty cool the way he described it all to me and included me in on it.  

See, Ted’s brother is like a major jock.  He’s not really dumb, but you wouldn’t know it, and he’s always on Ted’s case about being a nerd who’s never going to get a hot chick.  Well, enter Daphne, hot chick to end all hot chicks, the girl to once and forever get Fred off Ted’s back.  Ok, so it was pretty corny, but it was fun, and working it all out with Ted as an accomplice was even more fun.  Or at least talking about it was.

Doing it got a bit hairy at times, but I’ll  give Ted credit, he handled it pretty well for a guy.  Basically, my job was easy.  Flash the flesh and hang on Ted, making sure to let every one there know that I was interested in him.  Like that was going to be hard to do!  I think I played my role pretty good, too, because on the few times I left his side, some of those college girls started sniffing at him as if they were wondering what I could possibly see in him.

Yeah, in case you’re wondering, I got hit on too, but you know what?  I wouldn’t have expected not to dressed in a bikini, and it was kind of cool to at least have it being done by college guys and not high school kids or criminal types.    The only thing that really freaked me out was this one girl who came on stronger than most of the guys, but hey… I was just playing a role, right?  If I do ever mess with a girl, I can tell you, its going to have to be someone a little less clingy than she was, though.  I’m not all that sure about girls.  In some ways, well, they really don’t push my buttons like guys do, but when you really get down to it, I’m not sure it’s the guys that push my buttons as much as the way I think about them.  I mean, let’s face it, I can see where, from a physical perspective, with me, I’m not sure there’s a whole lot of physical difference.  Mentally, emotionally, maybe so, but, well, I can see where … um.. I’m digressing.  Back to the party.

The one sort of disappointing thing about the whole party was that Ted tried to go drink for drink with me for awhile.  Not a great idea, and by the time I realized he was doing it and stopped drinking, it was sort of too late for him.  I can get tipsy, and there were probably lots of times when my speech was slurry and all, but my body burns the stuff off really fast, and poor Ted, he didn’t have that little advantage.  By about ten thirty, I was all but propping him up, which in a way was sort of fun, but also got old and put a downer on what otherwise would have been a pretty incredible night.

So, when the party kind of shrank and that girl suggested we hit the hot tub, I didn’t protest, and I’m pretty sure Ted was by that time quite incapable of protesting.  It was a bit lukewarm for my taste, but the bubbles were kind of cool, and it was a pretty neat way to let Ted feel me up without being totally disgusting.

Granted, the conversation was a bit freaky, but it didn’t seem to bother Ted all that much, and before long, I was just relaxing and letting Ted enjoy himself pressing up against me while everyone else talked and drank.  I’m pretty sure that some of the other guys, and maybe even that girl might have owned some of the things that bumped up against me too, but it was all good, I think.

When Fred and his date got up to leave (and there was like no doubt  they were not going to sleep), I sort of half carried Ted up to bed, pretending to have a much harder time than I really did with it.  I guess its not the way most girls think about a hot sexy date, but then again, I’m not most girls, and I’ve made guys pass out by kissing them anyway, so why should I get hung up if they can’t hold their booze?

Thing is, in Ted’s bedroom, I did a little exploring.  At first, it seemed pretty, well,  I don’t know, guyish.  I mean, lots of debate trophies, a few pinups, and not much in the way of style.  Then I noticed his bookshelf.  The guy was a serious reader, even if he’d only read half of what was there.  I got excited, thinking maybe I could figure out more about him from what he read, and so I started checking it all out.  

Know what I found?  Well, Ted had this whole little section of stuff about WonderWoman, Supergirl and whole bunches of superchicks I’d never even heard of.   Plus, he had books, honest to goodness books, not just comic books, but, it was almost like a collection of books where the covers all had women on them, and from the blurbs, I could sort of figure out a common theme.  The guy had a thing for strong women, like women with superpowers and stuff.  Do I have to tell you I was intrigued?

Ted was still snoring, so I took the liberty of giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before creeping out of his room and heading back home.  I walked, rather than flew, mostly because I wanted to like have a chance to try and digest the whole night, and especially what I’d learned from Ted’s bookshelf.  

It seemed pretty clear Ted was into Supergirl types, but I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.  On the one hand, it might just be some sort of thing he got off on, and yet, on the other hand, it was entirely possible he might also be able to be a real help to me, if, for example, I wanted to let him know about me.  I’m not really sure which possibility got me more excited, nor could I exactly figure out how they might work together, but, well, lets just say, just looking at those books on his shelf, somehow it made me feel a whole lot better about myself.

Honestly, it wasn’t until I was typing this stuff up that I realized, maybe Ted’s fantasies, whatever they might be about superpowered women might not be a good thing.  What happens if the fantasies don’t live up to the reality?  I mean, how would I measure up against all those girls with the impossibly long legs and hair that never gets messed up?  

Fantasies are one thing, and reality is a whole different kind of thing.  I mean, in the comic books, not only do girls not have periods and stuff, but they also don’t get bitchy, they don’t flirt with other guys, and I seriously doubt that Wonderwoman ever stayed up late at night typing onto a blog about her insecurities.  In lots of ways, I may be up to snuff, but I’m pretty sure, even if I don’t need airbrushing, that I’ve got enough emotional and mental flaws to throw a monkey wrench into things.

I’m going to go to sleep now, I think.  Tonight has given me a whole lot to think about.

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Saturday Morning with Cass

Ted didn’t call today.  I’m pretty upset about that, even though I guess he might have a hangover or be busy or whatever.  But I still wish he’d call me.

This morning, I told Cassie about a lot of things, including Ted, well, most of Ted, and all about this blog.  I think she’s a bit surprised by Ted, but she’s like not going to say too too much until we see how it goes.  The blog, on the other hand, she thinks that this is like a real monumentally stupid idea.

I respect Cassie’s opinion.  She’s really really smart, but I don’t agree with her on this one and I think  I’m going to keep writing.  Cassie’s always convinced there’s a conspiracy in everything, and she painted this picture for me of like hundreds of guys drooling over every word I wrote and waiting for the day to expose me as a fraud when I eventually go public as a superheroine.  No offense to Cassie, but I think she’s off on this one.

For one thing, I don’t really think this blog is all that sexy.  I think about sex a lot, granted, what girl doesn’t?  And if every teenage girl’s diary was all that exciting, wouldn’t they all be besieged by horndogs?  Seriously, if a guy’s gonna get aroused by what I write, I’m almost flattered.  Way more flattered than if he gets a woody from looking at my body, anyway.  The bod’s not something I’m responsible for, it just is.  This blog, this is like something I work hard at and if a guy likes it, maybe its like he likes the real me, not just the package I’m in.   Ya know, it might even be cool to meet guys like that, knowing that its not just the way I look that makes him like me.

And for another thing, I honestly don’t think anyone reads my little diary here.  I mean, I’ve posted like seven things, and the only comment I got was some spam thing about financial investments that I’m sure was put there by some computer.  Its not like I’m letting the whole world know about me, and besides, I didn’t even put down what state I live in.

Now, granted the whole idea of leaving an electronic record of my thoughts as a teenager which could be used against me later is a little disturbing.  But who am I kidding?  I may save the world or something someday, but there’s no way I’m ever going to get elected to public office or anything.  Frankly, the only way I think I’d really get into trouble with this blog is if one of my friends, or heaven forbid, a guy like Ted was to get ahold of it and take offense to what I’d said.  Not likely, given that no one else is reading it.

Cassie’s one of the very few human beings who knows all about me, and I can’t tell you how much I value her opinions, but on this issue, I think she’s wrong.  

Now, what Cassie is probably right about, on the other hand, is that I have like absolutely no business playing on the basketball game.  The risk of me screwing up is just way too big, and she also made a real point about it not being fair.  I’m still chewing on it, but I think I’m going to find a way to get off the team.  I don’t want to just quit, but I’m also not what sure what it would take for the coach to throw me off, either.  I’m gonna think about this some more, though, later on, after I go play in his pickup game thing.  That ought to be a hoot, anyway.  Sweaty guys pushing and shoving and pressing up against me.  What more could a girl want?  A little phone call from a not so sweaty guy, maybe, would be nice.  

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Even Supergirls get the blues

Cassie was right about the basketball thing, which doesn’t surprise me at all.  To be honest, I’m not all that sure I wouldn’t have wiped the court with those guys even without superpowers, but when you consider that watching the other players was sort of like watching a movie in slow motion, it ended up being downright boring at times and tedious like you just wouldn’t believe.

Mind you, I don’t actually think I’m a great basketball player or anything, but the guys really didn’t seem like they were interested in guarding me as much as trying to cop a feel most of the time, and they sure didn’t seem to be trying very hard to try to keep up with me.  I know, it probably is just the fact that I’m so much stronger and faster, but I really don’t think that’s all of it. I did my best to keep it honest, really I did, including letting some of the cuter guys knock me to the floor and block shots and stuff, but it wasn’t like I was going to let my team lose.

When we got done, I was almost as covered in sweat as everyone else, just not my own.  And I saw Coach Collins sitting on the bench trying to catch his breath, I sort of jumped on the opportunity to tell him I was quitting the team.  I don’t think, between staring at my chest and panting from exertion, that he even heard what I was saying.

“My face is up here, Coach” I said grinning to try to take the sting out of it.  After all, the guy was sitting down and its not like I’m not used to that sort of thing.

“I’m sorry, Daphne” Coach said looking up.  “You, uh you want to quit the team?  Why, Daphne?  Is it me? Is it something I did?  I promise you, I wasn’t staring…”

“Right” I interjected, trying not to laugh at him.  “Look, I stuck my boobs in your face, ok?  That’s not it, Coach, and you don’t need to sweat like a sexual harassment thing, ok?”

He looked pretty stunned, but there might have been some relief there as well.

“But why Daphne?” he said, giving me that pitiful look that so many guys give me, the one that I have like a hellacious time resisting.  But this time, I was determined not to give in to the temptation, in spite of the way that helpless pitiful guy thing always made me feel.  I might not be as smooth as, say Lauren, but could fight fire with fire, and turning the tables shouldn’t have been all that hard to do.

“Coach, um, listen, I’d really rather not go into it, like, well, I mean, you can probably tell that I can play and all, but its really not that much fun for me to play with girls, and… I’m going to go out on a limb here, Coach.  I know it sounds pretty dumb, but I just really don’t want to play on the team.  I… I’d rather not get into it, can I just like tell you it’s a personal, um a female thing?”

Yeah, that confused the daylights out of him, but just to make sure I had him really where I wanted him, I took a deep, slow breath and gave a sort of a pout.  Seriously, it looked like his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets for a moment as they watched my chest rise and fall.  My nipples had been doing their thing since I saw the look in his face, so between my basic shape and the thin wet cotton of my t-shirt, I was pretty sure I was giving him a nice show.

“I’d still like to play on Saturdays, though, Coach…” I said and made sure I made eye contact with him when he finally looked back up at my face and pulled my shirt up a bit, exposing my abs.  I’ve got a tiny waist and a pretty svelte soft looking tummy if I don’t tighten it up. “Its, um, more fun, playing with you, you know.  You’re so big and strong, and the way you move on the court, it makes me feel good, like, um, like I’m really learning, I mean.”

Would you believe he bought that?  If ever there was an example of how absolutely hopeless a man gets when faced with a pretty girl, I think that was it.  It wasn’t my first choice of a way to handle the whole thing, but it sure was the easiest.  In a way, I think it felt like more of a power rush than I get from superstrength to sidetrack him like that, and I know it felt way smoother. Honestly, I felt standing over him that I pretty much could have talked him into anything.

I didn’t really come down from the high until I checked my cell phone and saw there was still no call from Ted.  What’s with the guy?  Did he think he’d be too eager if he called me back the next day?  Or maybe I was too much for him, or he just got bored with my conversation.  That, as much as I don’t like to admit it, was a really good possibility.  I’m not exactly the smartest girl, and since I really did try not to tease Ted except when it was part of the game, maybe that’s what was wrong.  

It was only three o’clock in the afternoon and since I didn’t really have anything else to do, I decided to go for a fly.  I usually don’t do that much during the day, between school and not wanting to get spotted, but I really needed the fresh air, so why the hell not.  I slipped into the empty girls locker room, pulled out my mask and pulled of my big sweaty t-shirt before taking off.  

In case there are any horny guys out there reading this, I guess you ought to get a blurb or two about how I feel about clothes.  I like them just fine, and they definitely serve a purpose as far as keeping people’s eyes from popping out, but its not like I really need them, and when I fly or even run fast, I tend to be pretty hard on them.  So, this afternoon, I basically just kept my shorts and sports bra on.  Although it was tempting to take that off too, I  didn’t.  My boobs don’t hurt when they bounce like some girls, but it isn’t exactly comfortable either, and if I accelerate fast enough, they sort of do get a little achy at times.  Plus, this way, if I did get spotted, at least I was a little less likely to cause a car wreck or something.

What I really need is some sort of great costume or something, but like I mentioned, I’m kind of hard on clothes, and stuff like that, superheroine outfits, at least the ones that can handle me, don’t come cheap.  My bras, for example, get worn out in like half the time of my moms.  Some of its neglect on my part, I guess, but I think there’s something about the way I’m put together that does it too.  They get real worn around the nipples, usually, even if they don’t pop before that.  Someday, I’m going to really figure the whole costume out, but for now, I pretty much strip down a lot and put on a mask.

I flew over the wildlife preserve for awhile, then headed up to a safe altitude and practiced in air turns and stuff until I was sick of it, all the while thinking about… you guessed it, Ted.  Finally, I just couldn’t take it any longer and I headed over towards his house.  I spotted his house from about 2,000 feet up and bit my lip before risking landing on his roof.  Not only was I afraid of getting spotted, but landings are still not my forte, so when I landed with only a tiny thump and one broken shingle, I felt pretty relieved.  From then, it was just a matter of really focusing my Xray vision and trying to hear what was going on down there.  My hearing is pretty good, but its not like I can tune out the background noise that well, so I was pretty much just watching.

It only took me a couple of seconds to find him his bedroom.  But what he was doing almost made me fall off the roof.  Ted, my Ted, the guy I’d been contemplating baring all to, had his arms around some girl.  Me, the  girl with an invulnerable tummy who’d never had a stomach ache in her life, I was suddenly confronted with an agonizing pain that made me bend over and lose my focus on him.  I slid down the roof, catching myself just before I hit the gutters and launched myself into the air.

I probably did really mess up the roof then, and might even have knocked out some windows or something with a sonic boom, but just then I really didn’t care.  My heart was broken and moreover, I was mad, way too mad to hang around for even a minute longer for fear I’d do something I’d really regret.

I flew around for another hour or so, fast and furious, before heading back to the gym, picking up my clothes and going home.  I didn’t even speak to my Mom when I came in and headed right up to the computer to type this.  I’d intended to write some really really nasty shit about Ted, but now that I’ve gotten this far, I just don’t have the energy.  I think I’m gonna stay in my room tonight and not even answer the phone.  Maybe today was just a bad dream, or maybe, maybe I will answer it if it shows up as Ted on my caller ID, just to give him a piece of my mind.

Um.. bye now.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Saturday Night Fishing Trip

My quiet little Saturday night was not, as I’d hoped, interrupted by a phone call from Ted.  Instead it was my bud Lauren, and, as usual, she talked some sense into me pretty quickly and got me out of my funk.  Lauren’s been my friend for ages, knows about my whole supershtick, and more to the point, is also always real good about figuring out ways to put my powers, along with anything else either of us have got, to good use, sometimes in some really incredible ways.  She’s got an awesome fashion sense and she’s smart, but not at all flashy about it.  And appearance aside, ‘cause I have these superpornstar genes that kicked in early and don’t seem to have quit, she’s also like way more mature and savy when it comes to guys.

After listening to me whine for awhile, commiserating with what jerks guys can be, and completely validating my feelings of despair and helplessness, she lifted me up and slapped me around, knocking some sense into me really quickly.

“Daph” she said, “I don’t mean to rain on your parade, and if you really want to sulk, that’s ok, but your missing a couple of things.  One, you don’t know the whole story, and two, whatever the whole story is, you of all people shouldn’t be acting like some helpless little wallflower who’s afraid to go out and get what she wants, whether that’s teaching Ted a lesson or getting him back.  You’ve got the looks, not to mention a few other things that pretty much put you in charge whenever you want to be.”

“Uh.. yeah…” I said .. “but ….”

“Don’t say it, Daphne.  You’re self reinforcing, and this isn’t really anything you need my help for.  Confront the guy, Daph.  You don’t have to say how you saw the girl, just say you did and demand to know where things stand.  If you don’t like his answer, for whatever reason, its not like he’s not going to have to take it.”

“Lauren…” I said slowly, “maybe you’re right.  Only, well, I don’t think I want to do it tonight, ok?”

I couldn’t actually see Lauren’s grin, but I heard it right through the phone.

“More than ok, you blonde ditz.  You and I are going to pain the town a bit tonight.  Well, maybe not really, but I’m getting picked up by this guy in about an hour and I promised him a date for his friend.”

“Lauren!” I exclaimed in exasperation, but she knew I’d do it, and so did I.

“You’re spending the night at my house and I’m at yours.  We’re talking seniors here, Daph, and I’m not going to argue the inevitable.  You know you can’t tell me no on this one.  I’m sneaking out at ten, and I’m meeting Jed across from the firestation.  Don’t dress like a schlub, Daph.”

“Classy” I retorted with a giggle, even as I got up and started planning my outfit.

At five after ten, I met Lauren, and despite the fact I was wearing jeans, it was pretty clear she didn’t think I was dressed like a schlub.  Lauren had in fact inspired me to turn over a new leaf and try something she’d been trying to get me to try, although up until now, it had languished in a drawer.  It was basically just a little bitty tube top, but the look on Lauren’s face told me that, on me, at least, it was going to be devastating.

I’ve mentioned that I’m sort of big up top.  In fact, I’m big enough that it’d probably be pretty obscene for me to wear the thing to begin with.  But on top of my size, my boobs, like the rest of me are sort of denser than other people’s, and both gravity and the relatively weak fibers of the little top really only have a minimal effect.  Consequently, while boobs my size should have been squished by the thing,  what happened when I put it on was really more like the thing was painted on.  I didn’t give, the fabric did, and the result was, at least from the way Lauren reacted, pretty amazing.  

Lauren had seen me in all sorts of clothes, and even seen me without any, so’s honestly, its not like I think she was suddenly amazed by what I looked like, not really.  Really, I think it was more like astonishment that I’d wear something like that out.  I’d expected some sort of reaction, but when Lauren didn’t say anything for like an eternity, I slipped on the jacket I’d brought, leaving it open, but at least covering my shoulders.

When the guys got there, I was glad I’d put on the jacket.  For one thing, Lauren’s not exactly a schlub herself, and, at least in my opinion, is a whole lot prettier than I am.  I’m more dramatic, but Lauren’s got soft curves, not in your face, gravity defying ones like I do, and I’m pretty sure it would have really messed things up if I’d made her date stare at my superhuman torso all evening.  Even with the jacket, both guys did their share of staring, but they stared at Lauren too, and since she had the personality to go with the looks, pretty soon, I felt a lot better about the whole thing.

The guys?  You want to know about the guys?  Well, let’s just say, honestly, they looked good enough, but between Lauren’s looks and personality and my looks alone, they pretty much were overwhelmed and outclassed.  Lauren, and to some extent myself, we sort of ran the show, and the guys did what we told them, which basically meant while they supplied the transportation and actually got us into the party, after that, it was more like they just got their kicks off of having gotten such hot dates.

Lauren and I basically held court for a gaggle of guys, with Lauren doing most of the talking.  I chimed in every once inawhile, but for all that I was feeling pretty good, I was still distracted and mostly I just watched how Lauren handled things.   She’s an artist, really, the way she can bounce from guy to guy, all of whom were desperate to make an impression, and I really liked just watching her work.  But these guys were smooth, and eventually one of them managed to make enough of an impression that she started ignoring everyone else.

That left me holding the attention of the rest of them, and unlike Lauren, I didn’t find playing queen bee all that easy or satisfying.  I could have picked any of them, and let me tell you some of them were pretty hot, but I sort of felt sorry for my date, so he’s the guy I asked to take me out for some air.  I knew from the way he was looking at me what he wanted, but I don’t think he really expected me to be half as easy as I was about giving it to him.  Honestly, now that I think about it, it was probably pretty mean of me to do it to him, but its not like he didn’t want it or wasn’t going to enjoy it.  I was feeling sort of like a rebel, anyway, so as soon as we got a little privacy, I reached for his hand and let him make his move, just using my eyes to let him know I wanted it.

He wasn’t half bad, really.  The way he put his arms around me was pretty smooth, and he kissed pretty good too.  The guy was a lot more confident than I’d expected, and his big body felt good against mine.  Course, after a couple of seconds, things got a bit beyond him, but by that point, I’d pretty much taken over.  Any doubts about my taking the lead were over when I kissed him and started rubbing up against him.  When his knees gave out, I grabbed his butt and kept him there, exploring his mouth with my tongue and his back and behind with my hands.  After awhile, though, when I realized seemed to be struggling, I stopped the kiss to let him catch his breath.  It was only then that I reached down and touched his thing, which seemed like it was ready to burst out of his jeans.  I guess that was a bad idea, because his eyes closed and he came right then and there in his jeans.  I sighed, tousled his hair and gave him a real quick kiss on the lips, grinning as I told him to go clean up and I’d meet him in a couple of minutes so he could take me home.

By the time,  I found Lauren and her date of the moment, my guy was looking a whole lot better, although he was sort of droopy.  I did kiss him goodnight,  but it was just sort of a cursory sort of thing.  Frankly, I think we’d both gotten what we wanted out of the night, and neither of us expected to do it again, not that I think he didn’t want it.

Overall, it was a pretty good night. I scratched an itch and more importantly, got reminded  that I’m pretty capable of taking care of myself socially, even though I’m not nearly as good as I am at doing it in other ways.  I was still thinking about Ted, and yeah, I was still worried about him, but lets face it, my heart might be broken if he was sleeping with this chick, but it wasn’t going to kill me, and I still  had the fishing tackle to land just about any of a million fish out there.  Ted was a fish I’d like to hang on the wall, I think, but its not like I couldn’t fill up an ice chest whenever I wanted.  Granted, they weren’t worth stuffing, but they made pretty good eating.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Much Ado about Nothing

I’d planned on confronting Ted today.  In fact, I’d sort of begun to work it all out in my head, how I’d do it I mean.  But sometimes things like that don’t work out, and today was one of them.  Sunday mornings my dad plays golf and Mom usually goes out to breakfast with some of her friends, so I was just hanging out in front of the TV, sipping a diet coke and channel surfing.  Why diet?  Not because I’m worried about calories or sugar, really, but because I actually like it better and because its like the only thing I could find in the frig.

Anyways, I’d just about despaired of finding anything worth watching when I noticed the light blinking on the machine.  No big deal, right.  I mean no one ever calls me on the land line, its always  for my parents.  My cell phone is my life line, really, and I don’t think I’ve even picked up the home phone in years.   But that light kept blinking at me, and eventually, I went over to the machine and listened.

The third message was from yesterday morning, and yeah, it was Ted.

“Daph… its me, Ted.  Uh, I know you’re probably off somewhere, but I wanted to tell you, um, I really had a great time last night.  Really, I know it was kind of weird and all with my brother’s friends and stuff, but it was really awesome to be with you.  Uh, I’d like to talk, Daph.  My cell phone number is …….”

It took me an eternity to put my jaw back in place, but once I did and got my thoughts together, I cleared the stairs in less than a second and swapped my nightshirt out for a t-shirt, a pair of shorts and took my time getting into a pair of running shoes as I debated, and then finally decided to take the t-shirt back off and slip into a sports bra.  The t-shirt went back on, as did a fanny pack for my cell phone and keys and I headed over for Ted’s house, jogging at a pretty leisurely pace so’s to get my thoughts together.

Ted’s brother was in the kitchen with a couple of his friends, and a quick scan of Ted’s bedroom revealed he wasn’t there.  After another minute or so, I spotted him out  by the pool, lying on a lawn chair next to.. you guessed it, that skinny chick I’d seen him with the night before.  I was cool, not mad, but cool as I walked around to the side of the house, hopped over the gate and walked back to the pool.

Ted looked up and his eyes got wide immediately.  I, on the other hand was cool as a cucumber, and all together.

“Heya Ted” I said, flashing him a grin even as I turned to face my nemesis, letting my grin stay there.  “I don’t think we’ve met.  I’m Daphne.”

I expected awkward, or maybe just friendly, or I don’t know what.  But not at all what I got when the girl, jumped up and charged me, grabbing me by the hand and hugging me.

“Daphne, I’m sooo glad to meet you.  Ted’s told me all about you, and I’ve been dying to meet you.”

My dazed and confused look didn’t seem to stop the girl, but Ted must have caught it, because he was up in a flash.

“Daphne, meet Lisa.  Lisa, Daphne.   Lisa’s .. uh.. well’s sort of hard to explain.”

I guess Lisa figured something was odd when I turned to face Ted just a bit too fast to seem natural.  

“I bet…” I said, but Lisa’s laugh cut me off and I twisted my head back to catch her grinning as she stepped over to the ice bucket.  I decided to ignore her, for the moment and turned back to Ted, putting my hand on my hip as I covertly glanced at his crotch and then noticed the sweat on his forehead.

  Ted was, well, there were some really great things about his tall and slender body if I’d cared to think about them, but at the moment, I didn’t.  I was really studying him, trying to figure out just how much of that sweat was from the sun, how fast his heart was beating, that sort of stuff.  It was my bud Mendel’s idea, really, that if I figured out how to read the signs, I could probably learn stuff from them, but, well quite frankly, I haven’t yet figured out how to tell if a guy’s lying to me.  Ted was nervous, but I couldn’t tell why.

“I thought you knew about Lisa…” Ted said finally, when my stare probably went on too long.  I’d actually been debating trying to make him sweat with a little heat vision, but I’m not all that good about controlling it and didn’t want to kill him, at least yet.

“No, Ted. I didn’t” I said.  “You honestly thought, what, that I wouldn’t care?  I got it,

Ted, or I guess I do now.  Only, how come Lisa couldn’t be your little arm candy?”

Lisa giggled behind me, but Ted didn’t respond at first.  He actually looked scared and I could hear his heart thumping aster, and that’s kind of weird, because I hadn’t touched him yet.  Still that told me a lot.

I waited, and then when I got tired of waiting, covered the few feet between us in a blur and tapped Ted back down onto the chair with a fingertip.  He let out a loud groan as he slammed into it and I stepped over, trying to think of how I’d tell him off.

Lisa rescued him before I could get a word out, though.

“No offense, Daphne, but one, he’s not my type, and two, I thought his little plan was about the stupidest thing I’d ever heard, even from him.  Seeing you, though, I see why he tried it.”

That made me grin, but I was still pretty pissed when I turned back to Lisa.

“Besides,” she said grinning, “I think it might be a little gross to have his stepsister pretending to be his girlfriend, don’t you?”

Ok, right then and there, I was pretty much floored and must have turned beet red as Lisa handed me a glass of lemonade.

“I can loan you a suit, Daphne if you want to hang out” she said, obviously still amused, but at the same time, being friendly enough.

I did take the suit, which didn’t exactly fit, and eventually ended up putting my t-shirt back on over it when it became obvious that I couldn’t expect to have a decent conversation with either of them without it.

I spent the afternoon out by the pool, talking with Ted and getting to know Lisa.  After while, Fred and a couple of his friends came out too, and it was pretty cool.  In case you’re wondering, I did not kiss Ted goodbye and, apart from that one time, never even touched him.  I did give him my cell phone number though.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Family Dinner

Sunday night is family night with the Orgones, and tonight was no exception.  Mom and Dad are really great people; raising a kid like me was not exactly an easy thing, even though my powers didn’t really entirely get too freaky until puberty, I was never what you’d call a normal kid.  Although I wasn’t doing things like lifting cars as an infant or anything, my strength was always way out of whack with what it should be, and even my senses were over the top.  Try getting a kid who couldn’t be vaccinated into school and you’ve got only the tip of the iceberg of what Jonathan and Martha Orgone had to deal with.

Puberty really messed things up even worse, too.  Just like every other kid my age, I’ve sometimes thrown tantrums, and, well, at a certain point, there’s limits to what human parents can do to keep their feeble control over a girl who they can’t lock in her room.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m basically a good kid, but I also have needs that I don’t really think most girls have on the same level, and I definitely have ways to get them that most don’t.  At a certain point, I think both mom and dad knew that I was going to do what I wanted to do and all they could really do was try to make sure I had all the right information and stuff.  They certainly don’t pry like some parents, even though they know I often fly out of my bedroom window and stuff.

Honestly, at times, I wonder who’s the parent and who’s the kid.  Dad, for example, had a real rough time when I started to fill out.  Its not like he’d ever do anything, but its also not like he could hide the fact that he got turned on by me.  He started freaking out, and I got pissed, which only made things worse.  Eventually, mom stepped in and forced us to work it out, but its hard.  Really, that whole episode was one of the biggest times I really saw how fragile my parents were, and after that, as much as I know it hurts both of us, Dad and I have had a whole lot more distance.  Mom’s the one I can talk to some, but I scare her too sometimes, and I generally try not to upset her.

Nevertheless, I think both of them knew something was up with me tonight at dinner.  I got Dad staring at me in a funny way a couple of times while I ate my asparagus and Mom was shooting him those looks, sort of like, behave and I’ll take care of this later.  Me, I was happy, and chattering pretty incessantly, about nothing and everything.

It wasn’t until after we’d done the dishes and Dad was out walking the dog that Mom made her move and hopped onto the couch with me.

“Ok, Daphne” she said, “are you going to tell me  why you’re smiling like a Cheshire  cat.  Dad’s, uh …”

“Dad’ll be fine, mom, after you two get some alone time.”

Mom blushed a bit and shook her head.

“Honestly, Daphne, you’re right, but he is worried about you, too and so am I.”

I shrugged and sighed.

“It’s a guy, mom” I said.  “Just a guy, and before you go there, it’s a guy I have not been messing with.  He’s like a friend, only, um, well, I’m going to behave with him, Mom, cause I think he really likes me.  Not just the packaging,  but me.”

Mom smiled, but I could tell she was forcing some of it.