Wiredd

Prelude: The Beginning

Annika "Anastasia" Marshall was staring at her body in the mirror, thinking. She was twenty-two years old, but physically barely looked 17. Her breasts were too small in her opinion, barely a C cup, and her pussy rather generic; not terribly tight, but not loose, not the prettiest thing, but not hideous either, just plain. Her hips were sleek and firm, courtesy of years of sports; swimming, basketball, volleyball, softball, and soccer, and her ass was downright tiny...but her waist did nothing to show any of this off. She was the exact same width at her shoulders as she was at her waist. She felt like a damn freak. The other girls on her teams were all like demi-Goddesses, they were so fucking perfect.

They also all knew it, too, and went out of their way to make it clear to Annika that she didn't compare to them. She already knew that she didn't, but their reinforcing the concept didn't do her any favors. It also didn't help that they were the school sluts....and she was the school pity party. Nobody wanted her like they wanted her teammates. Not even the lesbians or bi girls wanted her. She was just too plain. She wasn't ugly, she was actually quite pretty in her own opinion, but still, nobody wanted her.

She was still staring at herself when without warning, the lights flickered and went out. She jumped, shrieking involuntarily in surprise. Her feet hit the tile of the locker room again, and she slipped ungracefully and bit her tongue hard when her tailbone impacted the floor. Her eyes watered in the darkness and she groaned through gritted teeth, "What the fuck....damn it all..." She heard thunder rumble outside, and belatedly remembered it was supposed to storm today. Then the thunder rolled again, and a third time. It was really whipping up a fury outside, though she never knew. She was still in the process of trying to get to her feet and find her clothes in the pitch darkness when the first lightning bolt hit the side of the school, right above the locker rooms.

She could only dimly remember the minutes that followed that. All she knew was that the air started smelling....hot, of all things. Like burnt eggs or something. Then she got shocked when she touched one of the lockers, and while she was sucking on her sore fingers, a shock shot up her legs from her feet, standing on the damp floor. She groaned involuntarily as the shock shot up her legs and tingled her pussy; Oh God if only she could put that feeling in a bottle. Then the thunder and lightning stopped, and the air was dead silent before literally all hell broke loose. The roof of the locker room tore open and she screamed. She didn't know it at the time, but a tornado had dropped down on top of the school and was turning the facility into nothing so much as a pile of broken brick and metal. She dropped to the floor, scrambling to get under the hard metal benches that she knew were bolted down. She only just managed to get there when the lightning started again.

Almost as if it had a mind of its own, the lightning shot about the locker room like a living thing, electrocuting everything it touched with unimaginable power. Annika wasn't aware of this though. Beneath the metal bench, she was writhing on the floor, clawing at her skin, glowing from within as if she were a light bulb. Her mind world in total incomprehension as orgasm after orgasm tore through her body, raping her senses with pleasure that she hadn't thought possible. It seemed to go on forever as she lay there, screaming in the fury of the storm as her average body was slowly, inevitably blessed to be, as she would later find out, extraordinary.

However, in the moment, as far as her senses were concerned, Annika was being fucked senseless. If she'd been asked at the time, she would've sworn on a stack of Bibles that a 7-inch dick was stretching her pussy to its limit, and delicious, hot loads of sperm were filling her desperately hungry womb while her body responded in kind with an unending stream of mind-shattering, reality-defining orgasms.

Ten minutes later, the storm finally calmed, but the damage had been down. Annika lay, senseless on the floor of the ruined locker room. Cum pooled beneath her ass on the floor, steaming, and sparks crawled along her skin as she whimpered incoherently on the floor. Her glowing, sparking skin tightened over her body, her baby fat burning away. Her breasts expanded, swelling and blossoming as if she'd been pregnant several times, until they finally stopped at a full, perfect DD cup, standing proudly out from her faintly muscular chest and not sagging in the least. Her stomach, which had already been flat but still had some baby fat on it, was now as hard as a washboard, and a six-pack was clearly visible. Her arms likewise lengthened slightly, the bones popping and cracking audibly as her muscles swelled and tightened as though she'd been body-building for weeks. When the sparks finally stopped, and the glow faded somewhat from her skin, who Annika had been was gone. In her place lay a woman of impossible physical perfection, a Goddess. Annika didn't know it then, but that freak storm had changed her life forever.

Chapter 2

When she was next aware of herself, Annika found herself in a hospital, hooked up to machines like she was some kind of cyborg or something. She was confused, though, she felt fine. Actually, she felt better than fine. She flexed her muscles slightly, then yelped in surprise as a static shock trembled across her skin, leaving her gasping, surprised by how.....good it felt. It felt like a miniature orgasm, not like a static shock. She smiled and flexed again, but nothing happened. She looked at the wires attached to her arms from the machines, and then at the machines. Something seemed odd to her, not quite right, but not something she could put her finger on.

She sighed and started to lay her head back, then froze. She sucked in a breath, and her eyes bugged out in surprise as the front curve of her breasts pushed up into view before dropping away again as her lungs contracted. She felt a chill go through her body, and looked down. Even in the medical gown, her breasts were visibly bigger. At least a DD cup! She didn't know how long she'd been unconscious, but there's NO WAY she had been unconscious long enough to grow that much! "No fucking way...." She slowly slid her legs up, entranced by the smooth, perfect skin stretched gracefully over visible, firm muscles. What the hell was going on? This wasn't her body....was it? She looked at her arms, then looked again and raised them up, flexing and watching, now thoroughly freaked out, as biceps half the width of her arm flexed powerfully. She shivered with the feeling of strength that rippled through her body.

She shut her eyes, then yelped in surprise as another static shock, far more powerful, skittered across her body. Her eyes flew open and without knowing why, she whipped her head towards one of the machines and concentrated on it. There was a crackle and she felt a sudden rush shoot up her arm and tingle her chest, and the machine buzzed, sparked, then went dead.

Alarms started going off like crazy, and the door crashed open and several nurses poured in with a doctor in tow. Her eyes widened in surprise and she shrieked, struggling in the bed. The restraints around her ankles snapped like tissue paper, and one of the machines hooked up to her right arm whipped around, anchored to her by the wires, and shattered against the wall. She froze, and the doctor only hesitated momentarily before snapping to one of the nurses, "Four cc's of Methaqualone, stat!" One of the nurses nodded and shouted her acknowledgement, and before Annika could react, the nurse was plunging a needle into an IV tube. Annika stared at the tube, frozen, waiting for something to happen....and nothing did. The doctor and nurses all looked at each other, visibly at a loss, and Annika swallowed drily, "Um...Hi. I'm...Annika, I think. Sorry about your machine...what are you doing to me?" The doctor, a semi-balding man probably in the 43-45 range and kinda' hunky, frowned and folded his arms with a confused expression, "Apparently we aren't doing anything, Ms. Marshall."

So apparently, I was a medical mystery, a medical miracle, or both. Two months after waking up in the hospital, and nearly half a year after the storm, modern medicine still couldn't make heads or tails of what had happened to me. The storm had completely destroyed the school, which, while it left all my other classmates and peers happy, turned out to be some kind of freak accident for me. Apparently the storm had been one of the worst in our states' history, with the highest lightning strike per-square-mile recorded, ever. As a group of scientists whose names I couldn't remember later explained to me, apparently the equivalent of two-hundred quadrillion BTU's of electricity had been unleashed in that storm – enough to power not one, but TWO cities for an entire year. And as far as modern medicine could tell, my body had somehow absorbed almost all of it, leaving me supercharged with electrical power and mutated into something somehow beyond a simple human being. Aside from the visible physical changes, I could lift upwards of 3 tons without straining, my skin was bulletproof, I could absorb kinetic energy from any impact, and generate crude directed-energy blasts from my hands in the form of pure electricity. Basically I had somehow been transformed into the female version of that old Greek God....oh wait was his name....Zeus? The guy who could throw lightning bolts and all that. Amongst the more amusing side effects of my transformation though was the fact that any time I unleashed my energy, or absorbed additional energy (which apparently I could absorb almost every known form of energy except anti-matter energy), it was a sexual experience for me.

We'd found this out about two weeks past, when I'd "thrown" my first lightning bolt. It had ripped through the side of my target – a hummer – as if the thing were made of paper. But releasing the energy from my body had brought on an immediate and startling full-on tantric orgasm. The only time I could remember cumming harder was during the storm. I guess now I could ejaculate by expelling my energy. Weird. Another odd side effect was that apparently I could lactate – that is, produce breast milk – in copious amounts on-demand. Unable to explain why I could, the doctor's hadn't bothered to test how much I could produce, but the last time they'd had me produce any, I'd put out nearly a gallon of pure, electrically charged, healthy milk in less than two hours.

Apparently that was a record, although for some reason they weren't willing to put me in any record books. Something about the books were meant to be a record for human achievements or something. So what, I wasn't human now? Because I was a freak or something? Whatever. I honestly didn't care that much, I was just sick to the teeth of being poked and prodded and being told what a miracle of science I was. Science had nothing to do with my apparent transformation. Personally, I thought it was God's way of giving me a second chance when I should've died, and in that second chance, finally giving me some justice for all the years of bullying and taunting I'd endured in school. Now, I was the one all the boys wanted. I was the one with the perfect body, and I was the one on the top of everybody's "do" list....even the girls, which was a bit odd at first, but I got used to it.

Time went on, though. It was December 2010 now; they'd rebuilt the school to at least functioning conditions before summer had ended. On a whim I'd broken out – well, more like I just walked out, it's not like anybody could stop me – of the hospital, and finished the school overnight. I figured if I had these powers, I may as well use them, right? Turns out I'm also fast. Really, really fast. As in, almost light-speed fast. I personally didn't think I'd been moving any faster than normal. I mean, from my perspective, nothing was different, except now I was perpetually sexually supercharged and felt like a fucking GODDESS, but aside from that I was still just plain old Annika. I missed my family though. For safety reasons, I'd been placed in protective custody, and I 'd been told that they were in the process of building an underground bunker for me, designed to allow me to exist comfortably in an environment where my new powers weren't endangering anybody.

Just as well, I suppose. I didn't want to hurt anybody, but I'd been given these powers for a reason, and I had made it clear to the cadre of scientists studying me that I would only cooperate with them as long as I chose to, and if I wanted to leave, ever, for any reason, then I would leave. They were none-too-happy about it, but they also knew that they had little choice in the matter. As soon as I started putting myself back out in the outside world, though, it quickly became overwhelming.

Every time I set foot outside my bunker's entranceway, I was always bombarded with a new frenzy of paparazzi questions. At least they had the courtesy to come up more or less new material every day. I thought it was kinda' funny, and told them as such, but they kept at it. Who was I to them, though? A freak? A celebrity? Did it really even matter? I was just a simple girl inside, who had been blessed to be transformed into a God-like being by a freak of nature. I still wanted simple things; a boyfriend, an apartment, a college education, maybe even one day a husband and a family. But could I actually have any of that? The only way anybody was safe around me was if they were grounded against my electricity. A constant, low electrical current was always running across my skin, and I occasionally discharged by accident. My discharges typically weren't any more destructive than a violent static burst, but they were physically uncomfortable to experience, as I understood it. How had this even happened, really? I'd gone from a simple girl who just wanted to be loved for who she was inside.......to a God-like freak who still wanted the same thing, only this time, I was the most famous person in the world, but people still didn't really care about what I wanted.

At least, that's how I felt until he came into my life. His name was Charles Lindenwood, and he was the sweetest, most unassuming guy I'd ever met. Girls at his high school called him "Knight" for some reason; apparently he was almost unnervingly polite and gentlemanly, though from what I'd been able to find out, he had never shown any interest in dating any of the girls at his school, though many had practically thrown themselves at him. It had been a week ago, when I'd been giving a presentation at his school about the dangers of being around wet or metal objects in an electrical storm, that we'd met. I remembered it like yesterday, and hadn't been able to stop thinking about it ever since.

Chapter 3

"My name, as all of you know, is Annika Marshall. One year ago, I was just like most of you in this room; worrying about how to pay for my college bills, wondering if I'd get a significant other in my life, and dealing with school bullying. My life was changed when the Storm of 2010 struck my hometown, and destroyed my college while I was still inside. After a year spent in recovery and observation, I now stand as a living example of human miracle. But this is particular miracle is by no means my doing. In fact, based on my own choices in the moment, I should be dead." I continued droning on, describing the experience and going over the many scientific reasons why my choices for protection from the storm had been entirely stupid and actually probably would've caused my death, had I not been miraculously transformed. But my heart wasn't in it.

I'd given hundreds of these presentations, and it honestly got tiresome. It didn't help that everybody just stared. When I'd first started doing these things, I'd worn a custom-made, skintight rubber body suit to go out in public, and had then worn a regular suit over that. But that was unbearably hot; my electricity kept my normal body temperature at about 107 Fahrenheit, even in the winter. So later I took to just wearing my rubber body suit, which left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Of course, it covered everything from my neck-down, even my fingers and toes, leaving only my face and hair exposed, but still. When you're wearing something that is as tight on you as your own skin, you don't need to be showing skin to flaunt yourself. I wasn't thrilled about the concept, but I had little choice in the matter.

While I was trying to ignore the stares, I noticed something odd. There was one person who wasn't staring at some particularly part of my body. He was staring me right in the eyes. His own eyes were politely interested, and a calm, gentle blue that I found entrancing. His face was averagely handsome, but not outstanding – he wouldn't be cast in any movies or something any time soon, but his body would've been the envy of any male model. If I had to guess, I would've assumed him to be around 6' even, and barely an ounce of fat on his body. He wasn't overly muscled though, just definitely very fit. He caught my eyes and returned my stare, and his lips curved into a gentle grin.

I found myself smiling back; I couldn't help it! Instinctively, I looked between his legs as best I could from my point of view, and was amazed that they weren't totally tent-poled. He followed my gaze, then looked back at me and shrugged, and his grin just widened even further. Huh; he was actually flirting with me, not just leering at me like everybody else. I was definitely interested. Uh-oh. I felt my muscles shudder faintly, and knew I was starting to lose control. I was getting too distracted, and apparently, too aroused. I gently gripped the edge of my podium, careful not to simply tear the metal as I so easily could've, and sucked in an uneasy breath, trying to control myself. Too little, too late, I guess.

Chapter 4

I had to stop my presentation as I stood there, warring for control of my body and loosing. I felt my breasts release thick, milky discharge inside my rubber suit, and whimpered quietly at the raw pleasure. Then my stomach tensed, and I groaned loudly. I couldn't help myself at this point, I was too far gone in my body's involuntary self-pleasure. I pushed my legs together behind the podium, grinding my pussy on itself several times and cumming once, twice, three times in quick succession. My knees were weak, and I felt dizzy. I looked up at the guy who'd caught my attention, startled to find him watching me with a curious, not aroused expression. I smiled weakly and spoke into the microphone, "My apologies, I need to stop my presentation. Enjoy the rest of your day, and please excuse the interruption. God bless America."

I stumbled off the stage, and as soon as I was under cover of darkness, I pushed myself against the wall and let the orgasm come, biting my lip to keep from screaming in relief. The orgasm, or should I say, orgasms, tore through my body with all the force of that storm, leaving me senseless in their wondrous embrace. My fingers dug into the wall behind me, turning the concrete and steel into dust and scrap metal. The orgasms crashed through me in such quick succession, I lost count of how many hit me.

When it was over, I was curled up on the floor, panting and whimpering quietly to myself. The inside of my suit was saturated. Everything from my breasts down was a mess of milk and cum, and the rest of me just hurt. I finally sat up and sighed, leaning gingerly on the wall behind me. "Does that happen often?" I shrieked in surprise and jumped, stumbling to my feet and whirling to find the same boy from the audience staring at me with calm amusement.