The customers and staff of the First State Bank knew that it was a day like no other when Suprawoman alit upon the sidewalk just outside the building’s majestic glass doors. She strode inside with the graceful gait of a divine Olympian. Her trademark uniform of blue and red sported a waist-length cape and a silver-white emblem on her chest. Though oddly and noticeably, she wore nothing on her feet.

Everyone parted before her, as Suprawoman walked slowly but purposefully towards a teller window. She neither spoke to, nor looked at anyone. Some wondered if she had an account at the bank. Some hoped or feared that she was there to stop a crime. Some lusted for her. All gawked at her.

“Excuse me, please. Coming through. Excuse me.”

The branch manger pushed firmly but politely through a throng of astonished onlookers. Normally, her stylish business suits, high heels, and striking features grabbed people’s attention and allowed her to facilitate her way through any situation. But now, no one even noticed her.

Finally, with an audible grunt, the manager broke free of the crowd. She took a calming breath, straightened her jacket, and made her way over to the branch’s esteemed guest. As Suprawoman unhurriedly approached the nearest teller, the manager stepped up beside her.

“Welcome to First State Bank, Suprawoman. It is an honor to have you here, and a pleasure to serve you. And though we do have a strict policy requiring our customers to don footwear, we, uh, will happily make an exception for you this time.”

The manager smiled nervously. Suprawoman turned to face her.

“I need two things. The first is money for my Mistress.”

“Money? For your, uh, mistress? Oh, well, do you, uh, have an account with us from which to make a withdrawal?”

Suprawoman’s hand shot out and encircled the manager’s upper arm. She effortlessly lifted the woman a meter off the floor and let her dangle there like a child’s doll.

“Mistress commands me to bring her money. Get me money now.”

“Get her money! Get her money now!”

All of the tellers dove into their drawers and began shoveling bills out of them, as all of the customers took a large, collective step back. A moment later, a pile of bulging sacks lay at Suprawoman’s feet.

“There, we’ve given you money. You’re all set. You can let me go now and then be on your way.”

“That is the first thing. I need something else.”

“What, uh, what else do you need?”

“My Mistress wants a toy.”

“A toy? I don’t--”

“A barefoot toy. You will do.”

“What? No, I--”

Suprawoman flexed her arm that held the manager. The contraction shook the woman right out of her shoes.

“Be quiet. Look at me.”

The manager did as she was told. She looked at the beautiful face before her. Immediately she was drawn to Suprawoman’s bright, bold eyes. She almost said aloud how gorgeous they were. But before she could, she saw them suddenly glow crimson. Terror gripped her, as she recognized one of the awesome powers Suprawoman possessed: fire vision.

But as quickly as it had appeared, the crimson glow faded. And then, just as quickly, the glow reappeared. In rapid succession, Suprawoman started and abruptly stopped her fire vision, causing a localized strobing effect that only the manager could see.

The manager’s fear melted into amazement and bemusement. She didn’t understand what was happening. All she knew was that she couldn’t look away from Suprawoman’s brilliant eyes and the rhythmic pulses that emanated from them. Everything else in the room grew distant and faint, until only Suprawoman’s eyes remained. She felt herself sinking into a spiraling tunnel with those flashing, irresistible eyes at the center of it. She could no more pull free of it than she could from the iron grip that held her aloft.

“You are Mistress’s barefoot toy.”

“I, I…”

“You are Mistress’s barefoot toy.”

“I...am Mistress’s barefoot toy.”

“You will obey Mistress.”

“I will obey Mistress.”

“You will serve Mistress.”

“I will serve Mistress.”

“Sleep now. You will awake when Mistress commands you.”

“Sleep now….”

Suprawoman drew in the now sleeping manager and cradled her in one arm. With the other arm, she reached down and grabbed the tops of the money sacks. She had what her Mistress wanted. Above her loomed the building’s glass dome ceiling. She looked up at it, tightened her grip on the sacks, and covered the manager’s head with her other hand. Then, with the barest flexing of her legs, she leapt skyward and was gone from sight before the showering glass hit the floor below.


- The End -