Xochitica 

Juanita Prescott was working in her lab when she heard a knock at her open 

door. She looked up and smiled as she recognized Dr. Martinez at the door. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting, Ms. Prescott,” Dr. Martinez says “but I had 
just a few more questions for my project on families from Mexico and 
Central America. Do you have a minute?” 

“Certainly, Doctor,” Juanita replied. “Anything for a colleague.” Although 

she had only met Dr. Martinez yesterday, the visit had been so pleasant 
that she felt like she had known the elder researcher like one of her own 
family – which he happened to be researching. He claimed that he had 
traced 
her ancestry all the way back to the time when Spaniards had first landed 
in the new world. 

However, Dr. Martinez was not alone this time. He had two young men with 
him this time and, judging by their grim faces and style of dress, these 
men were anything but fellow academics. 

Her suspicions were confirmed when one of the men turned and closed and 
locked the door behind him. “Is this the one?” the other man, dressed in 
what appeared to be a very expensive suit and tie, asked Martinez. 
Martinez’s personality seemed to have changed in the presence of the other 

two men. He was obviously frightened of them, and he appeared to be sorry 
for Juanita as he looked at her briefly. 

“Yes, this is her,” replied the doctor. “I have traced her ancestry all of 

the way back to the last days of the dead city of Xoticlan. She definitely 

carries the blood of the priestesses of Xochitica in her veins. 

“Are you crazy?” erupted Juanita. “I was born in California for God’s 
sake! 
I don’t even speak Spanish!” 

Dr. Martinez looked at her sadly. “There is no mistake. Your bloodline 
goes 
back to the time when Aztecs ruled. You are the last living link to the 
Goddess Xochitica.” 

Juanita recoiled in horror. So yesterday’s visit was just a ruse to verify 

who she was. And to think she trusted this man! But the man with the suit 
was impatient. He spoke to Martinez. “Well? Let’s get this over with.” 

“Get what over with?” asked Juanita, but the men ignored her. 

“Are you sure there isn’t another way?” pleaded Martinez. “This is very 
dangerous. I really don’t know if I can control the Goddess once she is 
summoned. There’s still a chance we can get what you want some other way.” 


The man in the suit was unwavering. “No. I want to know where the treasure 

is buried, and they say only Xochitica knows where her city is now. 
Besides, I am sure that an Aztec Warrior Goddess would make an excellent 
employee for my organization.” 

Juanita now looked at the men as if they were all crazy. Dr. Martinez only 

sighed and opened is valise. Whatever was in there, Juanita wanted no part 

of it. She drew back even farther and felt herself bump up against the 
workbench behind her. 

But it was no use. Martinez spoke a few words in an ancient tongue and 
threw a bit of powder in her face. Juanita collapsed to the floor. 
Martinez 
pulled out what looked like an Indian blanket and spoke to the two men. 
“Undress her and lay her down on this.” 

Juanita could only watch as the two men moved to comply. Although she was 
conscious, she had no control over her body and perceived everything 
through a haze as if it was happening to someone else far away. She 
couldn’t lift a finger to resist the men as they took off her lab coat, 
blouse, shoes and slacks. She wanted to tell them to stop as they pulled 
off her undergarments with a familiarity that she did not at all approve 
of. 

She was afraid that they might molest her, but they arranged her nude body 

on the blanket as per Dr. Martinez’s instructions. Still, she did not like 

the way they leered at her and she wished she could lift her arms to cover 

herself. 

Dr. Martinez, meanwhile, had been pulling other artifacts out of his 
valise 
and now proceeded to arrange them around her body, all the while chanting 
in that strange, ancient language. Juanita felt that she could almost 
understand what he was saying, but when she tried to grasp the meaning of 
the words, they flitted away, always just out of her reach. 

Martinez then turned to the men. “There’s no turning back, now. It’s time 
for the sacrifice.” The man in the suit merely nodded to his companion who 

pulled a jar of red liquid out of his jacket and gave it to Martinez. 
Martinez, for some reason, didn’t look happy. 

“Where did this come from?” he asked. 

“Does it matter?” the man in the suit replied. 

“Yes, it does,” replied the doctor angrily. “The blood has to be fresh. 
And 
it has to come from a man. If this is from a woman, then Xochitica will be 

angry.” 

“Then we’ll just have to give her what she wants” said the man in the 
suit, 
pulling a gun from his pocket and pointing it at Martinez. 

“No, you fool!” uttered Martinez, but the man had already pulled the 
trigger and shot him. Martinez fell across Juanita’s body, blood seeping 
from the bullet wound and over her. And that was the last thing she 
remembered. 

Where Juanita was there now rested a woman with long black hair and blue 
skin. She had an elaborate headband and necklace, as well as beaded bands 
on her arms, wrists and ankles. Her feet were bare, as was her chest. Her 
only concession to modesty was an elaborate loincloth which nearly 
extended 
to her ankles. This was Xochitica. 

The Goddess sat up and pushed the dead doctor off of her with effortless 
ease. Then she stood up and addressed the two men. “Which one of you has 
summoned me?” she asked in a voice which seemed to reverberate within 
their 
skulls. 

The man in the suit stepped forward. “I did” he said with a smirk. He was 
quite pleased with the way things were going. 

“LIAR!” shouted the Goddess. She flung out an arm at him and he was 
impaled 
on a bolt of deadly energy. His charred corpse flew across the room, and 
collapsed in a heap against the far wall. “No man can summon me! I only 
serve the women of Xoticlan! Men are only fit to serve me!” 

This last was directed at the last surviving male in the room, who had 
already turned to flee. But he had forgotten that he had locked the door 
and was frantically pulling at the doorknob, whimpering in terror. 

Xochitica waved her hand and the man found himself lifted off his feet and 

was floating back toward her, still whimpering. She gestured again and his 

clothing fell from his body. She lowered him to the ground and then swept 
her loincloth aside. “You will know the joys of serving Xochitica. You 
will 
die happy in the knowledge that you have served your Goddess’ needs.” 

The man was far from happy, but Xochitica did not notice his discomfort as 

she lowered herself onto him. She began a slow, rhythmic lovemaking that, 
as the pace increased, made her more and more satisfied and the man more 
and more hysterical. 

When she climaxed, she closed her eyes and flung her head back, screaming 
her pleasure to the heavens. The man, however, was dehydrating beneath 
her, 
becoming a mummified corpse as she drained every drop of fluid from his 
body. 

With a sigh of satisfaction, she stood once again. Then she heard a voice 
behind her. “Is this a private party or can anyone join in?” 

Xochitica whirled around and saw a woman standing in the doorway. It was 
apparent that she had forced the locked door open. She had blonde hair and 

was clad in a white, form-fitting garment that covered her arms and torso. 

It was decorated with golden lightning bolts. 

Xochitica smiled. “At last, a worthy opponent.” And she flung out her arm 
with the same energy bolt that killed her first victim. To her surprise, 
the woman dodged the bolt and responded with one of her own. 

The Goddess did not dodge this bolt, but planted her feet and let it hit 
her squarely in her chest. “Is that the best you can do?” she taunted the 
blonde woman. 

The taunt seemed to have unsettled the blonde, but she increased her 
efforts. Xochitica laughed as she absorbed the energy being thrown at her. 

Then she crooked her hand in a beckoning gesture and she was rewarded with 

a look of uncertainty as she tapped into the woman’s energy source and 
started to drain it from her. 

The flow of energy increased and heat radiated from the point of impact on 

the Goddess’ chest, causing the liquid in the flasks on the nearby 
laboratory workbench to boil. 

And then, as soon as it had begun, the flow of energy stopped. The blonde 
woman collapsed to the floor. Xochitica moved over to her and looked down 
at her on the ground. She waved her hand and the woman’s eyes snapped 
open. 
The Goddess smiled as she read the woman’s concern in her eyes. “Oh no, 
you 
can’t move. I’d be surprised if you had the strength to do anything at all 

after I took all of your energy from you.” 

She let that sink in and delighted as she saw the woman struggle for 
control of her limbs. Xochitica continued. “I wanted you to be awake as I 
took my pleasure from you. Before I killed you. Before I continue what I 
started so many centuries before!” 

She leaned over the blonde woman and pulled the garment from her body 
delighting in the sensation that peeling such a tight-fitting fabric from 
her body would produce. When her breasts sprang free, she fondled them 
absently while pulling the garment further down her body. 

The blonde woman was still watching her with growing fear in her eyes as 
the blue-skinned Goddess continued to caress the woman’s nude body, 
massaging her breasts, running her hands down her sides and pushing her 
hand between her legs to fondle and arouse her still immobile body. 

Then she leered at the paralyzed woman as she spread her legs apart. And 
she swept the loincloth aside again and watched as she saw the madness 
grow 
in the woman’s eyes as her genitalia changed from that of a woman’s to a 
man’s – and continue to grow. 

And she grinned as she kneeled before the woman and began to push the 
impossibly large organ against her nether lips, watched as she finally 
shut 
her eyes tight and willed for the madness to stop. 

And suddenly, it did. Xochitica suddenly stopped and looked up, gasping as 

if she was running out of breath. For the blood that had been spilled to 
summon her had dried in the heat of her battle with Lightning Girl, far 
earlier than Xochitica had anticipated. With the drying of the last drop 
of 
blood, Xochitica once again vanished from our world. 

And Juanita Prescott returned, her unconscious nude form dropping across 
Lightning Girl’s body where it lay on the floor. 

Lightning Girl, still weak, lifted herself up and looked down at the 
innocent woman who was almost her killer. And then she took a look at the 
rest of the room. “This is going to take a lot of explaining” she thought 
to herself. 

She never noticed the mark on Juanita’s left breast, too symmetrical to be 

a birthmark. The mark of Xochitica, patiently waiting until the next time 
blood was spilled in her name.