a Superheroine’s sensitivity

        The flight test was a relief, a momentary respite from the constantly peering eyes.  They had gone out to a clearing, branches snapping under her feet as she walked, then Dr. Vanaver had set up his radar gun and all she had to do was jump and be off.  Up past the tops of the trees she was out of their sight, though the sensor she clasped in her hand told them where she was.  She felt good doing her loop-de-loops and dives and ascents as if she were once again in the night sky over her favorite pond out past Thomasville.  Though now it was a sunlit afternoon and she could see Atlanta way over there in the distance, the buildings clear and familiar.  She tried to guess where her apartment was.  She longed for it to be even just two months ago, when she and Elly, comfy in their pajamas, would watch TV over popcorn.

        With regret she came back down, then moving a few feet over the watchers, did various positions, on her back, upside down, showing how body position affected her flight, finally hovering spread-eagled, looking down at them past her toes and the fluff of her pussy hair, feeling her lower lips open, knowing that they could see right up inside her.  Then, as instructed, she descended to the ground and uprooted a tree, wrapping her arms and legs around it, feeling the rough pine bark against her inner thighs, scraping her breasts, feeling the sap sticking against her.  With a little upward motion of her stomach muscles the tree was torn up from its home.  She unwrapped herself and carried it in her arms up and away to a gully a hundred feet away where she laid it down.

        Oddly her innards sensed sad vibrations from the tree, as if it were in pain.  As the team ran up behind her she looked down at the prostrate pine, then, though this wasn’t in the protocol, she flew back to where it had been uprooted.  She stuck her hands and feet into the earth and easily displaced several cubic yards of stony but rich Georgia forest soil.  She flew back to retrieve the pine and carefully guided it into its former hole.  Then, once again as the team ran up to watch, she stood on the ground next to the tree, holding it gently with her hands to keep it upright, while packing the displaced dirt back in with her bare feet and with their now dirty toenails.  No ordinary human would have the strength to keep the tree upright or pack the dirt tightly enough, but the nude girl’s motions were gentle and tender like a little girl planting a tiny seedling.  Colonel Mike and Ms. Danby looked at each other and smiled.  This girl was a real sweetie, good-hearted and gentle and sensitive; which was lucky for the rest of the world.