Something else catches my attention as I follow the flight of the screaming guard with my eyes. It’s a chopper, and it’s pretty close. I immediately forget about the people in the lobby and stand up. In the end, there are millions of people in the city and not so many helicopters, so the toy-sized aircraft is more interesting to me.
I quickly see where it’s going: the roof of a building a few blocks down the road. I focus on it and smile as I find out that I have the super sight many journalists speculated that my sister had possessed. The roof must be a good half a mile away but still I can see everyone on it in full detail and even zoom in and admire the patterns in their clothes. There are half a dozen people and they are obviously waiting for the chopper to pick them up. It’s not hard to conclude that this is all because of me.
I take a couple of steps towards a close by building and stoop forward, resting my heavy breasts on its roof as I rest my chin on my folded arms in a cute way. The building is suffering, but I determine that it will hold, so I forget about its structure and zoom into the roof again. The group shifts as the chopper approaches and I get a full view of one of the people in the back for the first time. My heart fills with glee when I easily identify Jay!
Yeah, I know Jay is supposed to be a celebrity popstar for teenagers, but well, I just turned 21. Actually, I think he’s my age. I’ve never been a snobby intellectual when it comes to music, so his catchy tunes appeal me as much as to the legion of fans he has. And he’s so damned hot!
I did not know he was in town. Otherwise I would have made sure to stop by his hotel and try to catch his eye. I typically do not have too many problems with that and I would not have had too many problems to make myself available either.
My recent changes have made things a little bit different though, so my plan is no longer to catch his eye but to catch him. After all, what’s the point on being an all-powerful giantess if you cannot get a hold of your favorite popstar?
So, it’s decided: Jay will be mine. Now I just need to decide how.
My first reaction is to remove myself from the building I’m resting at and to walk towards the roof where he is. I restrain myself before starting to move though. Being a giantess has plenty of advantages, but stealth is not one of them. If I start moving to the roof too soon, the chopper might never land in there. And I’m pretty sure that Jay and his entourage will see me and will get back into the building. It would not be entirely impossible to get him out of there unscratched, but it would be harder.
So, my first decision is easy: I need Jay to get into the helicopter, and the best way to do that is by remaining motionless. Once he is on it, I “just” need to pick the chopper from the air. I don’t have a plan for that. At least not yet. But after having seen all my sister accomplished in her few hours as a giant, I’m convinced that it’s well within my possibilities.
I stay with my head rested on my folded arms as I observe the scene in the roof in Full HD. The chopper lands and the six people close to the heliport need to make an effort to stay on their feet as a result of the wind from the rotor. They are so puny!
A side door opens and Jay is the first one to climb on. Then three more people get inside. The other two wave their hands and then head back to the roof access. The helicopter starts lifting. I don’t move yet. I need to wait just a couple more seconds. As they pass, the chopper gets far enough from the roof that it won’t be immediate for it to land again. My cue. I stand up and face the avenue. I take a first step down the road, an SUV getting crushed flat under the ball of my right foot.
The helicopter is getting higher. I could run after it, but I decide against it. Running is not sexy. Instead, I start strutting again.
I keep my stare fixed on the helicopter so I’m not looking where my feet land. I can only guess what I’m stepping on by the feeling under my soles. Whenever it feels like tinfoil I know it’s been a car. Whenever the feeling is spongy I know that one or more often a few unlucky people were in the spot where my foot has broken the asphalt into yet another footprint. And I learn about a new scenario: tinfoil plus mushy. I guess it must be a car with occupants.
I realize the chopper is getting out of my reach. I know I can solve that by blowing it out of the sky, but that is more than likely to end up with Jay hurt, and I don’t want that. I frown as my eyes keep glued to the aircraft in the distance. Then I feel pressure building behind them.
I stop, somewhat concerned since I guess what’s coming. Don’t misunderstand me: I’m as excited as a girl can be about the possibility of having laser vision, but I don’t want to use it yet. I’d rather not turn my celebrity popstar of choice into ash.
I’m not on time to look away from the chopper by the moment the pressure relieves. I wait for the worst… but it does not happen. The helicopter is hit by whatever energy I projected from my eyes, but it is not disintegrated, as I expected. Instead, it gets engulfed by a blueish halo and gets stopped on its tracks.
I’m so surprised that it takes me a couple of seconds to realize that what I shot from my eyes was not a deadly laser beam but actually what I can only describe as a tractor beam. The chopper’s rotor is still turning, but the aircraft is not moving an inch. I stopped it on its tracks… just with my sight!
I decide to test my theory of the tractor beam and will to move the chopper closer to me. It does, even if just by a few feet. I cannot prevent it anymore and I let out a loud laugh as I slap my tight butt with my right hand.
“I’M A CERTIFIED GODDESS!” I say for all the city to hear. “NOT EVEN EILEEN KNEW SHE HAD THIS ONE!” I add. I’m sure most of the people that are hearing my words do not know what the hell I’m talking about, but I don’t care.
I cannot feel more powerful and sexier than I feel right now, so I pose like that. Spreading my legs so that they span the eight lanes of the avenue I’m standing at, I place both my hands at my hips and push my chest and head out a little. Then, I focus on the helicopter I’ve trapped in my sight.
I keep the aircraft in place, swearing that I can feel its pathetic efforts to break from my eyes’ grip. Then I zoom in and delight when I see the panic of the tiny people trapped inside. I want to see them from up close, so I slowly start dragging the chopper towards me.
It does require focus! It is certainly more demanding of me than what it would have been to just pick it up in my hands. I guess it’s all a matter of training. I’ve been picking things up my entire life and this is the first thing I capture with my newfound power. I still manage to keep my hold on it and pull it all the way down the avenue and towards my waiting figure.
I switch my new power off when the chopper is right in front of me. It shakes for a second, first. Then it tries to pull up, away from me. I easily abort the attempt by firmly grabbing the aircraft from below, closing my delicate fingers around its little frame. If it could not escape from my tractor beam, there is no way it’s going to break from my physical grip.
The rotor is still on, which is annoying. I solve that by simply extending a finger from my free hand and letting the rotor blades break into it. Then I lift the fuselage up and peek through the windows. I smile at the six occupants of the helicopter, but I can see from their reaction that they are anything but happy to see me.
I don’t care of course. I only care about getting my popstar idol out. Using my free hand, I break the helicopter in two as if I were breaking an eggshell. Dropping the top part a couple hundred feet below, I look down at the six very shocked people inside.
Without warning, I stretch my free hand and then turn the one that’s holding the chopper upside down, using my wrist to gently shake the six people on the aircraft out of it. Four people fall into my palm, bounce and finally find a resting spot in its soft skin. I turn the broken fuselage up again to see that the pilots did not fall because they were wearing their seatbelts. I do not care about them so I just drop the fuselage with them attached to it. For once, wearing the seatbelt has been counterproductive for safety, I think. In the short time I’ve been around my presence is changing many things people took for granted.
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