Bird Woman: Naked Superhero Ch. 02

Yvonne flew high over the city of Oakland, scanning the neighborhoods below for any criminal activity. It was a clear, sunny and the warm wind brushed against her bare skin. She was a tall, naked Indian woman, 5'11" in height, with shoulder length black hair and a native brown skin complexion. Her build was thick and muscular, and the only thing she wore was a bird mask that covered half of her face.

Minutes later, she hovered over the congested streets of Chinatown, and spotted an old, battered Ford driving recklessly and erratically. It honked at pedestrians and cut in front of other cars, even running a red light. She swooped down quickly and followed it.

Near Laney College, the vehicle ran a stop sign and hit a young Asian man. The Ford sped off fast. She checked on the man and then asked a pedestrian nearby to call 911. Then she took to the air again and raced after the car. She hovered over the Ford's windshield as it headed into East Oakland.

"Stop the car!" she ordered.

The motorist, a middle-aged white man, gave her the finger and tried to run her over. Her big, bare ass and huge, muscular legs were inches above the glass.

"Pull over now!" she commanded.

He gave her the finger again and that's when she went under the chassis of the Ford and lifted it into the air, carrying it all the way to the police department downtown. When they arrived, she noticed he had passed out.

At home, she watched the news on TV and learned that the hit-and-run victim was hospitalized and was going to be okay. His parents thanked her for her help. She smiled and turned off the television. After working out with her weights, she showered and walked around wearing only a thong and flip flops. It was humid and sticky.

Her apartment faced another apartment building and a bunch of white guys in one of the opposite units took a break from a baseball game on TV and watched her. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she made a salad in the kitchen with her backside facing the window. She had a hip-hop CD playing and danced sensually to the music. It wasn't until later that she saw the men looking at her, and she quickly shut the blinds in embarrassment.

After dinner, she made some signs for the protest this weekend.

* * *

At eight-thirty that night, she stripped off the thong, donned her bird mask, and went up to the roof of the apartment complex. From there, she flew up into the dark, starry skies. It had cooled off a bit, thank God. She hovered above a Korean liquor store on Telegraph Avenue where she saw a group of masked men enter.

She swooped down and entered quietly. Two men had guns pointed at the cashier, an old Asian man who had his hands raised in the air, a terrified look on his face. He saw Yvonne but she put her finger to her lips. The third man was clearing out the safe and register. When he was about to bolt through the door, she blocked his path.

"Ah-hah!" she said sarcastically. "Caught red handed in the act! Drop the bag and the guns, boys."

"Go to hell, Bird Woman," the man with the bag said hostilely.

The eyes of the other men bulged out at her naked body, ogling at her large brown breasts with their big, dark nipples and at her giant, shaved vagina. She towered over the shorter men.

"Oh, Lord have mercy," one of them said. "Check out this sista's tits!"

The leader pointed the gun at her. "Get out of my way!"

When she didn't budge, he fired. The bullet bounced off her body harmlessly and he stared in awe. "What the fuck?" he asked.

She smiled. "It's cool to be a superhero, let me tell ya."

He fired again, but again, the bullet didn't do any damage. He kept squeezing the trigger angrily until the pistol was empty, creating a large cloud of smoke. Then she simply walked over to him and punched him twice in the face and he collapsed. After grabbing the bag of money, she threw it to the cashier.

Suddenly, the other two men jumped her and kept striking her with the butts of their guns. She fell to the ground, trying to shield their blows.

"C'mon, you big, dumb pussy," one of them said. "Show me your super moves. C'mon! You ain't nothing but a big cunt, that's what you are. . .go run back to your tribe."

They continued delivering hits to her head and back as she squatted on the floor. The other man checked out her large butt. "You like it in the front or the back, sista? Cuz if you want a one hundred percent Alabaman black man with a fifteen inch cock, I'm the one for you." They both laughed.

Just as the cashier was about to come over and hit them with a broom, Yvonne got up and punched them viciously. After knocking the guns out of their hands, she grabbed one of them and threw him hard against the wall, creating a huge crack. The other man locked his arm around her neck from behind, trying to choke her. Her breathing grew labored as he applied more pressure. Her bare skin was pressed tightly against him, sticky and smelling of peanut butter. As he continued to press down more, he tried to rip her bird mask off with his free hand. He was almost successful. But before he could do that, she elbowed him in the ribs with all her strength and he screamed in pain. Spinning around, she kicked him violently in the nuts with her big, bare foot. He collapsed to the floor, clutching his balls, howling like a wounded animal.

"Are you okay?" the elderly Asian cashier asked.

She nodded. "Did you call the police?"

"Yes."

* * *

The big protest was held on Saturday with a parade through downtown San Francisco, and culminating in a rally with speakers and lives music at city hall. A large banner over the stage read: SUPPORT ECO-RIGHTS FOR INDIGENOUS PEOPLES. Signs held by some activists read: NO MORE LOGGING IN OUR FORESTS, STOP ENVIRONMENTAL RACISM, SOVEREIGNTY FOR HAWAII, and STOP THE INVASION OF THE RAIN FORESTS.

After a group of Maori dancers left the stage, a bunch of Samoan dancers performed in front of the large crowd. Following that, Yvonne grabbed the microphone and introduced the next featured speakers, two members of an Indian tribe from the Amazon rain forest. When they were finished, Yvonne served as the MC again by bringing in a politician who spoke at length about the sovereignty for Hawaii movement.

As he talked, she scanned the audience and activists, seeing that most of the women were tall, thick, muscular, and dark like her. Some were Indians like herself. Others were Tongan, Tahitian, Eskimo, Aboriginal, Polynesian, and Pacific Islanders. She and her coworkers from the clinic were very happy with the turnout today. It was nice to see all that beautiful brown skin out there. And it was great to see people from other cultures and faiths as well.

A white guy with a shaved head, wearing an IMBEACH BUSH shirt kept staring at her, smiling flirtatiously. He was from one of the political groups, she forgot which one, but she had seen him at many other rallies. She paused for a moment before returning a friendly grin.

During her break, she bought some water and a burrito from a vendor and ate under the shade of a tree.

The bald guy approached hesitantly. "Can I join you?"

"Sure."

He put down his sign and sat next to her on the grass. "It's a great protest. Kudos to you guys at the clinic."

"Thanks," she replied, taking a bite from the burrito. "I saw you at the last few demonstrations. One was the anti-war rally at Justin Herman Plaza, the peace march at Delores Park, the one at UC Berkeley, and the rain forest event at Golden Gate Park."

"Right, right." He grinned flirtatiously again. "I remember you, too."

He was cute in his own way, she thought, with his pale, skinny frame, shiny bald head, and round-rimmed glasses. She had to admit she had a weakness for the nerdy scientist, bookworm type because that's who she was. He kept smiling. He's trying too hard, Yvonne thought. Relax and be loose, buddy. Still, the grin was slowly growing on her for some reason. But the thought of Will kept her from being flirtatious herself. She felt like a dog with a leash around her neck, constantly restrained.

"What's your name again?" she asked. "I know we've chatted before."

"Nathan."

She nodded. "I knew it started with either an M or an N." He was around her age, late twenties, early thirties. "You're pretty popular, Nate. Oooops, is it okay to call you that?"

"Absolutely. All my friends call me that. Yvonne, you said you're part Navajo, part Apache, correct?"

She nodded again, impressed. "Good memory. But I get mistaken for being East Indian, Latina, Asian, and Pacific Islander all the time." She chuckled. "It doesn't bother me. We're all brown anyway. . .so, Nate, what do you do for a living?"

An Indian rock band started playing on the stage.

He wiped the perspiration from his face with a handkerchief. "I'm a social worker at Kaiser."

"Cool. I'm a social worker, too, at a non-profit health clinic." Yvonne pushed her glasses up her nose. "Are you from the Bay Area?"

"Southern California. And yourself?"

"Born and raised in Oakland," she said proudly. One of her coworkers signaled her. "Whoops, break time's over. Nice talkin' to you, Nate. See you later."

The following Friday afternoon, her bird senses brought her to a gas station in West Oakland, near the BART station. The concrete was warm beneath her bare feet as she walked towards an AC Transit bus parked at the corner. Through the open door, she saw that the driver's seat was empty.

When she was just a few yards away, a young black man appeared in the doorway, pointing a rifle at her. "That's far enough," he said. "You ain't gettin' on this bus, lady."

Through the window, she saw another black guy aiming his rifle at the frightened passengers on board. There were fourteen people and half of those were teens and children. Three teenage boys stared at her in awe. "Wow, check out her body, y'all!" one of them said.

"Please, just drop your weapons. Don't do this," she said calmly. "There are innocent people and children on board."

"We ain't gonna hurt them, Miss. We're just waitin' for the cops to come. They're bringin' us some cash. Then we're gonna take this here bus and git out of here, you dig?"

"Why don't you just take the money and the bus. You don't need to take these people hostage. They didn't do anything wrong."

"They're just insurance, lady. Like I said, we ain't gonna harm them, trust me. The only people gonna get hurt are the pigs if they do somethin' stupid."

Minutes later, the police arrived. One of them, an older black man with a mustache looked at Yvonne and said, "Stay out of this, Bird Woman. We'll take care of it."

"Like the way you handled the last botched hostage situation, Lieutenant?"

He glared at her angrily before taking out a bullhorn and saying, "You two gentlemen in there. I want you to carefully consider what you're doing. Now, we've got the money here. But please think about the innocent lives on board. Please try to be compassionate about this. It's not too late to lay down your arms and leave this situation peacefully."

The man at the doorway looked at him. "Thinking time's over, old man. We know what we're doin'. Give us the money."

The lieutenant sighed disappointedly, nodding to an officer. The officer started walking slowly towards the bus with two large bags. A big crowd had circled around the corner, watching intently. When he was several yards away from the door, Yvonne opened her mouth and emitted a deafening sonic ray. Everyone covered their ears. The gunmen on the bus dropped their rifles to do this, and she immediately raced on board and seized their weapons. The two men quickly dodged past her and exited the vehicle, running for their lives. Somehow, they managed to get past the SWAT team, heading down Mandela Parkway. Yvonne flew after them.

When the guys reached a truck depot, they tried to hijack an eighteen wheeler. She landed on the ground, creating two fireballs above the palms of her hands, and quickly hurled them at the men. One hit a guy squarely in the chest, and his clothes were in flames instantly, causing him to scream. A depot worker poured a bucket of water on him, extinguishing the fire. Squad cars arrived at the scene.

The second man ducked and avoided her fireball, running for cover behind a series of trucks. She ran after him. The man aimed a handgun at her and fired, stunned when the bullets didn't pierce her skin. He loaded another clip and kept shooting from behind a big semi, but she just continued walking towards him calmly.

"Why won't you die, lady?!" he yelled. "Jesus frickin' Christ!" His pistol clicked empty eventually and he flung it at her hard. She caught the gun perfectly, ripping it apart in two with her bare bands, smiling at him. She laughed sarcastically as he continued running under a bunch of trucks, making it to the other side of the depot. She simply flew over there and landed right in front of him.

"Beat you," she said, laughing some more.

He screamed like a man gone mad, running past some dumpsters. Before he could get far, she produced another fireball above the palm of her hand and threw it at him. His clothes ignited in flames and he tripped and fell to the ground.

"They should give Bird Woman a key to the city or something for all she's done," the bartender at Pyramid Brewery said. "Heck, she's been more effective than the cops."

A male patron nodded. "Not to mention more gorgeous looking."

"Oh, yeah!! Wouldn't mind if she kept my bed warm at night."

Yvonne walked right past them, grinning mischievously, and sat back down at a table across from her boyfriend, Will. He was also Indian, and was young and slender, with long black hair tied back in a ponytail.

He drank some more beer, then took her hand gently and squeezed it. "So how come you didn't return my calls?"

"Sorry, hon, I was busy this past week," she replied, thinking about the numerous stacks of paperwork at her office, not to mention all the crime fighting she had been doing. She felt obligated to defend the city and its citizens now, to seek justice for the victims of crime. The people depended on her.

He squeezed her hand tenderly again. "Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh."

Will noticed her untouched glass of beer. "You look preoccupied."

"Oh," she said, taking a long drink. "Lost in my own little world again."

He smiled. "A penny for your thoughts."

She squeezed his hand, returning a grin. "I'm dreading the piles of papers back at the clinic. I don't mind seeing my clients, I'll always be there for them no matter what. But it's the bureaucratic stuff that I hate." She sighed. "But enough about work. How's school?"

"Ditto that about papers." He shook his head. "I'm up to my eyeballs in essays and books. Enough about school. Let's talk about you and me. . .or rather, what we could do together back at my place."

She shot him a naughty look.

* * *

After shopping at the Laney College flea market, she rode her bike to volunteer at an indigenous arts and crafts fair at the UC Berkeley campus. It was another scorching, muggy day and she wore a tank top, tight, very short shorts, and flip flops. The shorts were like Daisy Dukes and her ass cheeks bulged out of them, causing numerous heads to turn.

After drying the sweat from her face and neck with a paper towel, she put her glasses back on and helped set up some booths and tents. Then she alternated between manning her friend's jewelry and art stand and doing some petitioning for a political organization she belonged to. As she standing near some tables collecting signatures, Nathan approached her with a clipboard in his hand as well.

He beamed at her. "Hey, Yvonne. What cause is that for?"

"Oh, hi. It's for securing funding to renovate a battered women's shelter. You've heard of Sisters of Color, right? In fact, I think I saw you at one of our workshops. It's a women of color group I'm a member of."

He nodded. "Oh, yeah, right. That was at Preservation Park, correct?"

"That was the one. I have a friend that's a member, too. Do you know Alicia Hernandez?"

"Everybody knows Alicia," she said, chuckling. "We all call her the octopus because she can multi-task so well, having her tentacles on so many different things at once. She's really cool."

"Yes, she is."

She nodded at his clipboard. "What's that for?"

"It's another save the rain forest in Brazil initiative. I'm working very closely with a local Indian group and we're planning a trip up north to protest logging in native territory. Are you going to that?"

"No, unfortunately I'm busy that weekend," she said disappointedly. "Otherwise, I'd love to go. So, have you had much luck getting signatures?"

"Uhh, I've got a decent amount. How about you?"

"Pretty good numbers."

Nathan shot her another flirtatious smile and asked, "Hey, Yvonne, want to grab a beer sometime?"

She blushed. "I've got a boyfriend, sorry. But we can have a drink as friends if you'd like."

"Sure, that's fine. . .would you be interested in being another type of friend?"

She paused, getting the message. "Uhh, no."

On Tuesday, Yvonne went on her morning run around Lake Merritt, and worked out at the gym afterwards. When she got home, there was a message on her cell phone. She listened to it. Will. Another booty call, she thought, shaking her head with a grin. Boy, is that man horny! We've been humping like rabbits and dogs and he still wants more.

She took a shower and walked around in nothing but a black bathrobe and flip flops afterwards. She was aware of the open windows this time but didn't see the group of men or anyone else looking at her. Yvonne took out the garbage, chatted with her next door neighbor briefly, before heading back to her unit.

She later stripped nude, slipped on the mask, and flew off from the rooftop again. When she reached San Francisco, she stood on top of the northern tower of the Golden Gate Bridge, taking in the breathtaking view of the bay on this clear, sunny day. Sailboats and ships dotted the water. Below her, she saw numerous cars whizzing up and down the bridge. A helicopter passed by her. Then another one. The second pilot flashed a cardboard sign that read: WHAT'S YOUR NUMBER, BIRD WOMAN? She waved at him.

Her next stop was atop the Transamerica Building, and from there she hopped from skyscraper rooftop to skyscraper rooftop. The tourists snapped pictures of her as she hovered over Pier 39, Fisherman's Wharf, and Alcatraz Island. She heard the usual whistles and cat-calls. At crooked Lombard Street, she stood next to some Japanese tourists and allowed her photo to be taken.

A black and white squad car stopped by. "Bird Woman, put on some clothes right now or I'm going to write you up!" ordered the cop.

She quickly flew away, returning to the northern tower of the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a good place to collect her thoughts and think. Someday she wanted to bring Will up here. Moments later, what appeared to be a small spacecraft zoomed by her, heading towards Marin County. She frowned, going after it.

The object went even further, going at a super fast speed, and eventually landed in a redwood forest near Eureka. The earth was damp and soft beneath her bare feet as she approached it cautiously. The redwood trees towered above them in this lush, green setting. The spacecraft was narrow and cylindrical and seemed to be able to fit one passenger only. When she was several yards away, it emitted a series of beeps and clicks, stopping her dead in her tracks. She studied it carefully. It was silver metallic and there were no markings or emblems on it.

The noises continued for a while and stopped abruptly. Suddenly, the cockpit opened slowly, revealing a creature that looked like a goblin. He was bald and his skin was blue, having two pointy ears and sharp fangs. He looked at her impassively, getting out. The alien was also naked and had one of the longest, biggest dicks she'd ever seen! Her mouth dropped wide open.