Stryke
Force 1 : Out of Their League
by Dark
Lord Priapas
Fisherman’s
Warf was usually a normal, everyday place for the shipping industry of Captiol
City to conduct business both domestic and foreign. During the regular to and
fro of the business day, the docks were a buzz with small boats and larger
ships that studded the dockside. They unloaded their cargo and opened their
cranes to swing back and forth from dock to ship and then back again.
Longshoremen and other dock workers made a fine living off of the business of
bringing outside goods to Capitol City. The night time, however, had begun to
bring out the worst kind of element which only spread like a cancer through the
body of the local gentry.
Mr. Ken
Turgesen was a businessman first and foremost. He had operations all over the
east coast and quite few over the west coast of the country. Markets for his
type of business were opening up more and more toward the interior of the
country and Turgesen had to stay on top of the burgeoning market in order to
support the weightiness of his empire. That’s always the way it was, the bigger
the baby, the more it took to feed it. This meant that new markets were always
desired. His criminal empire had managed to survive despite the rapid growth
and Captiol City sat upon the Swan river like a great ripe apple ready to be
picked. This master criminal was most obliged to pick it. Little problems like
nosy super heroines who tried to stop his nationwide progress, were of little
concern.
He had
amassed quite the organization, with over 20,000 henchmen employees to carry
out his nefarious instructions. He also had amassed several specialized
employees and allies in many fields, be they science, the dark arts or
multi-dimensional beings and so on. The henchmen and assistants whom he had
brought with him to Capitol City had given him as much warning as they dared
about expanding into Captiol City.
“The Strike Force 1 has been keeping that
city clean for five years now... “ they told him. “They’re not just bimbos in
bikinis.”
He told
them. “Any time a man builds a log cabin in the wilderness, he first clears a
field and then establishes his house. The Stryke Force 1 is merely a mess that
has to be cleaned up. I think I know how to whittle those mighty oaks to the
ground.”
Faith
Eaves had been the leader of Stryke Force 1 for five years now, ever since
their inception by the Mayor’s private crime prevention unit. Stryke Force 1
consisted of herself, Gold Stryke and her two students; Silver Stryke and Bronze
Stryke. They had been especially trained in
several martial arts programs, ballistics and other crime prevention
training which they had implemented in the successful prevention of both major
and minor criminal activity throughout the city. They were especially known by
their sonic abilities which they used to subdue all and any who dared to bring
their dangerous intent to Capitol City. They were well known and respected by the populace as strong, independent women
who protected the city as its resident super heroines.
Faith
was a stunning, light brown haired brunette with large dark, brown eyes,
sensuous lips and Northern European facial structure that had allowed her to
qualify to win the Miss Kansas beauty contest at the tender age of 18. With a scholarship
to Rhodes Trident college and degrees in criminal science and abnormal
psychology, she had been the perfect candidate to lead the Mayor’s special task
force. Her lovely beauty and knock out body at 36-24-36, standing five foot
nine inches tall and also a star gymnast, as well, didn’t hurt her chances with
the political leaders. Smart, stacked, and in the prime of her womanhood, she
was also a fan favorite with an internet following and merchandising sideline.
Her
star students who joined her in the act of battling crime were Lizzelle Drake
(Bronze Stryke), a stunning bright red headed girl with long, down to her waist
waves of auburn hair. Her lovely face had large green eyes and a button nose,
underlined by full, pinkish lips. With creamy, almost naturally blushed skin,
ample 35c size breasts and a slightly heavy shelf like rear end, she was the
fantasy object of many a lonely Capitol City citizen on a cold winter night.
Lizzelle’s
comrade was the slightly smaller Vietnamese heroine known as Samantha Trang
(Silver Stryke). She had large, dark almond shaped eyes and a more squat
figure, but by no means smaller breasts and hips, and with her genetic make-up
one could have sworn there was a Brazilian influence in her family tree. Her
long, straight black hair finished off the “dangerous Asian girl” look that she
had used so effectively to send fear into the hearts of bad boys everywhere.
They had both studied under Gold Stryke and had become a matter of excellence
in their own right.
*******
Senator
Aaron Chatelain had a desk full of papers and a work load he hated to consider.
He would reflexively glance out of the window of his 12th floor office and view
the panorama of a clear, sunny day over the Capitol City skyline. He loosened
his tie at his collar and wondered to himself if there wasn’t someone somewhere
who could get him out of this workload. There weren’t enough cups of coffee
during the workday or pints of beer after hours to make up for the daily
stresses of dealing with the city’s constant needs. She was big and beautiful
for sure, but also extremely high maintenance.
His
desk intercom suddenly beeped to life with a call from his secretary out in
reception. BEEEEP! Went the buzzer and he snapped the call button with grateful
speed. “What is it Miss LeGroin?” he asked.
“Senator,
Miss Eaves with the Mayor’s task force is here to see you, but she is not
expected.”
He
smiled to himself and said quickly, “No! No! It’s fine, please show her in.”
With that he rose from his desk and straightened his Pierre Cardin Business
shirt.
Within
moments Miss Faith Eaves appeared at the door and entered with a big white
smile and an offering of a handshake. She wore a velour green dress and Steve
Madden ankle boots. She was, of course, stunning as ever with her beautiful
face and shiny, baby fine hair.
“Senator,
so good to see you again,” she intoned.
“Miss
Eaves, it’s been a while.” He replied, waiting for the door to fully close.
Once it did the two professionals met in the middle of his office. They hugged
each other tightly and pressed their mouths together in a sensuous kiss.
She
held him closely, running her hands though his thick black hair and he pulled
her in tightly to his own body with two hands fully engaged in holding her
finely rounded buttocks.
“Senator!”
She said with mock surprise. “You certainly do have a way with the
constituency!”
He held
his lover close and said, “I’ve missed you since Wednesday.”
“It’s
only Friday, dear.” She said and smiled back at him.
They
had known each other for quite a while now, and had become very close both
personally and professionally. Faith and Aaron were publicly known as a couple,
she with the Mayor’s task force on crime and he, of course, a famous Senator.
But Aaron Chatelain knew nothing of the double life his lady lead as Gold
Stryke, even though they had been at several public functions at the same time.
Gold
Stryke had an excellent heroine outfit that hid well her secret identity and
she added little personality differences to the role so as to throw off those
she knew from having a lucky guess. If he had known she was Gold Stryke, the
Senator may have had quite a few things to say on the matter, especially since
he had it in mind to make Faith his wife.
They
sat down together on the nearby couch in his office and continued to exchange
body fluids for quite sometime, and then Faith had to inform him of why she was
here today.
He told
her, “You are my heroine! I was getting brain dead from all this work on a
Friday. Sitting here wishing and hoping I could go outside to play.”
“Sorry,
love.” She began. “I am going to have to work tonight. I wanted you to know.”
“Are
you kidding me? Can’t the mayor get himself some other analysts sometime?” He
said with great disappointment.
“It’s
important.” She told him with that super serious tone she used when she had no
other choice but to serve her office. “The word on the street is that Ken
Turgesen has targeted the city. He’s flooding the financial sector with
laundered bills and trying to establish a drug trade here, just like he has
done on both coasts.”
He
looked at her with quite a bit of concern over that news. “You’ve got to be
kidding? That guy puts a strangle hold on an economy wherever he goes. I have a
dossier on him that fills two file folders in the basement store room.”
She
nodded. “He’s bad news. It’s as though he likes to find cities and towns who
have no troubles and then creates them so he can profit from the mess.”
“OOOohhh....”
He groaned. “And YOU have to do this on a Friday?”
“I
know...I know....” She told him with a kiss. “I will make it up to you...you
know I always do.”
He took
a heavy sigh. “Yeah.... I know..... it’s just .... that I....”
She
placed a French cut manicured finger on his lips and told him in a whisper.
“You know I only have eyes for you.”
They
kissed and held each other for a few more minutes and then Faith said her
goodbyes and left. Aaron sat on his couch ignoring his workload, looking out
onto the late afternoon sky and said to himself, “Damned criminals.....”
*******
The
docks were a lonely, silent place to be in the middle of the night. Warehouses
stood like large ancient wood and cement structures that had observed the
passing of a million days, a million night times. The river ran just below them
in a slow, massive dark body of water which undulated and pulsed with the drive
of currents from a nearby delta attached to a larger inlet body of water. The
pylons that held the docks aloft were gently splashed by fits of small waves
that caressed their wooden exterior and the spotlights that peppered the
boardwalks cut through the darkness with continual static beams of orange,
yellow and white. Off in the distance, on both sides of the river, one could
observe the skyscrapers and buildings that surrounded the area with their
random security lights across their faces indicating the myriad of windows and
floors in each office building.
Tonight
there was an unusual amount of movement up and down the dock area. It wasn’t
movement that indicated the regular business attitude, but was one of
subterfuge and hidden motives. Half a dozen men all dressed in army type boots,
with camouflage pants and pockets full of tools and weaponry darted in and out
of the maze of flood lights that provided security to the boardwalk. They also
wore balaclavas on their heads and faces and very brief black wife beater tops.
Their hands were gloved in black leather also and they made great haste as they
darted back and forth from shadow to light and then back again. Some men had
back packs strapped across their backs and others carried ropes and chains,
while still others had big metal plates with electronic equipment that was
difficult to operate and implement.
Mac Jefferson,
their manager, had worked for Mr. Turgesen for ten years now, and he was
considered an old professional at handling these types of affairs, despite his
thirty something age. He silently ordered the men to go here or go there with
signals and nods and slight throat noises as they assembled the business for
the evening. Mac stood six foot six and was cut deeply by his constant
attention to weight training and his health reflected his dedication to
nutrition. He was wealthy, for sure, but few knew of his vast personal wealth
so as not to connect him to the underground dealings of Mr. Turgesen. He had
been especially chosen for his management and organizational skills in leading
a team of men for such a job as this and he was proud to accomplish the feat.
Chauncey,
one of his men carrying the large metal squares that were being set up atop the
corners of the warehouses, stopped and whispered to Mac, “I don’t get why we
hafta have all these sound equipment stuff, boss? It don’t make no sense.”
“It’s
got something to do with Quimby’s plan for tonight, okay?” Mac assured him in a
whisper as they worked to set up another heavy metal plate with multi-wired
electronics. “Why do you think we had to drink all those chemicals he gave
us.... fuckin’ shit tasted like ass!”
“Quimby?
That freak from the left coast?”
Mac
nodded but didn’t look up as he continued to work with Chauncey to set up the
metal pallet. “Yeah... he’s freaky... but with some mad skills, my man... we
follow Quimby’s instructions... Mr. Turgesen is gonna treat us right. Okay?”
Chauncey
began screwing in a plate top as Mac Held it in place. “He’s always giggling
like a monkey or something..... and the damn big eyed glasses he wears.... I
dunno, who lives like he does? Bow ties and lab coats alla’ time.... and ya
know he’s dateless!” Chauncey chuckled.
“We got
women right and left... who cares about Quimby?” Mac added and then signaled
that the plate was in place and ready to go. They then moved on to another
rooftop corner and assembled another plate. The other two teams that night were
also busy placing the metal palettes and then checking to make sure that they
all faced each other across the roof tops and had slightly different angles and
heights. Once they were done, they quickly and stealthily snaked away into the
night for phase two of the operation.
*******
Stryke
Force 1 stood together on the roof of a skyscraper across from the docks which
was separated by an interstate highway. They were all decked out in their
Stryke Force outfits and ready for battle. Gold Stryke’s shiny, light brown
hair tossed gently in the evening breeze and her face was covered with her
golden domino mask which covered the eyes and top half of her lovely face.
There was a golden bodice that extended from her waist and then up to her
sweetly rounded breasts, leaving her shoulders bare, except for the long sleeve
bullet-proof gold jacket she wore, which was open, and ended at the waist.
She
wore low cut golden, boy shorts on her rounded hips that ended just at the
bottom curves of her derriere, and there was a white sash tied around her hips
that covered the top part of her shorts, which was knotted at the side and then
flowed freely in a long trail down her thigh. This sash helped to conceal the
small belt she wore which had pockets full of tools and weapons for use during
battle. Her white, thigh high boots covered the most of her legs and sported
four inch high wedge heels. These heels and souls of her boots also carried
compartments for weapons and tools.
Bronze
Stryke and Silver Stryke also had the same outfit configurations, but with the
corresponding metallic designation. Whatever was Gold on Gold Stryke was Bronze
colored on Bronze Stryke, who had dark red gloves, boots and sash. Silver Stryke
had dark blue boots, gloves and sash other than the corresponding silver metal
colors for the rest of her suit.
Gold
Stryke’s opera style gloves were also white but included special clasps around
her wrists which had been developed by the Mayor’s special task force science
department for disabling any criminal element they may come in touch with.
These wrist clasps were a bit large, metallic in appearance, and produced ear
splitting decibels of sound that were designed to knock out and render unconscious
anyone daring to resist arrest by the Stryke Force 1. The technology had indeed
come in handy, as Stryke Force 1 had a reputation for always getting their
charge. Be they male or female, those who chose to oppose Stryke Force 1 always
ended up on the wrong side of the law.
“It
looks pretty quiet.” Bronze Stryke told her partners as she peered out over the
roof corners of the high rise building across from the docks.
Gold
Stryke looked out and over the ridge of the roof wall also and shook here head
slightly. “Nothing is ever as it seems, let’s keep that in mind.” She told
them.
Silver
Stryke cleared her throat slightly and whispered. “Gold, you seem a bit more
tentative about this one .... I mean more than usual.”
“It
shows, huh?” She responded while nodding. “I do have some rather disturbing
news about all of this, and I am a bit hesitant to tell you...”
Bronze
chirped up and requested. “We can take it, Gold... what do you know?”
Gold
Stryke stood up from her crouched position and placed her hands on both of
their shoulders. “I have done some heavy research on this Turgesen thing....
and it appears that wherever he goes... super heroines like us....
disappear.... and they don’t come back. You remember the Eaglettes... from the Maine
area?”
They
both nodded.
“They
have been missing for two months now. Word is they were last seen dealing with
Turgesen and his expansion efforts.”
Bronze
and Silver both gasped in shock. “Not the Eaglettes????” Spat Silver. “They
were like the all American ..... red, white and blue super group.”
Gold
nodded. “I am afraid so... and that’s only the beginning... I have counted in
the files over one hundred and fifty missing heroines all across the country
since we began here in Capitol City. ... heroines like... Moltana... for
instance...”
“NOOOO!”
Bronze and Silver gasped in horror. “She was super strong.... and
invulnerable....and she had all that fire and lava.....surely there is a
mistake!”
Gold
shook her head. “Nope. And it has been two years now.”
“Do
they all have some connection to Turgesen?” Asked Silver.
“That’s
the main thread.” Gold nodded with an expression of dire warning. “Wherever he
goes. Heroines lose. And now he’s coming for us.”
“We’ve
never lost!” Bronze protested. “You have us too well trained!”
Gold
smiled and ran a hand over her curly auburn hair, “I appreciate the loyalty,
sweetheart. I really do. But, I want both of you to be extremely careful as we
go out tonight. These scum lose and lose and tend to always show up again
because of the legal system we are sworn to uphold and protect.
But.............. heroines lose only once. And then it’s over.”
“You
know how one stops a bully, Gold?” Silver said with a bark. “You bloody his
nose, and he goes away.”
“Yeah!”
Bronze agreed with a fist pump.
“Okay,
okay...” Gold cautioned them. “Don’t run on adrenaline, use your heads. Think
two and three moves ahead.... got it?’
“We got
it.” Silver assured her.
“Okay,
team. Let’s go bake some cookies.” Gold said with a smile.
*******
Mac
signaled for two of his comrades to come over to the spot beside the warehouse
wall where he had been scanning the area and looking at the roof tops of the
surrounding city scape for any sign of the Stryke Force 1. Paco and Running
Bear, both dressed in the fatigues and balaclavas that they all wore, crouched
low from their own hiding place and quickly swung their bodies as they trotted
silently across the space between warehouses that separated them from Mac’s
position. They reached his spot where he was crouched in the darkness and
hunkered down to listen to his instruction.
“Okay,”
He whispered. “Got your special ear plugs?”
They
both silently nodded from behind the black ski masks.
“Paco,
you act like the leader and show the instructions to Running Bear. Turn on the
lights, make it conspicuous, but not like you aren’t hiding. Stryke Force 1 may
be women, but they haven’t survived for so long by being stupid. You gotta make
it look real so they will bite for the bait.”
“Got
it.” Whispered Running Bear.
“When
they show up, throw the nearest crowbar or hammer at them and then run. You two
are the fastest, so you gotta lead them into the triangulation... we need that
speed to work for us!”
“We got
it, Patron.” Answered Paco. “But, what if they don’t show? We ain’t seen
nothing yet... and it’s getting late.”
“Oh,
they’re here.... somewhere.” Mac assured him. “I can feel it.”
*******
Stryke
Force 1 made their way into the warehouse district from under the interstate
and snuck into the alley that lead from the side entrance for truck deliveries.
Their rubber souled boots made their approach as innocuous as a group of stray
cats. Gold motioned them to each take a counter position to her own, one to the
left and south, and the other to the right and west. Together they moved as a
team, spread out, but keeping in the same visual range as they made their way
passed the darkened warehouses.
Gold
looked out over the passageway between two of the buildings and saw the light
of a lone lamp burning in a room three warehouses away from their position. She
turned and silently nodded to her teammates, and then pointed to her own
eyeballs and then to the roof tops in a : “Watch the upper deck” motion.
Bronze
and Silver both nodded their understanding and scanned the rooftops for
movement. There was none. Gold then motioned for them to follow, at their
distances, as she made her way toward the lone lamp she had seen. There was a
tightening in her throat that she was experiencing, which she found worrisome
and uncharacteristic for herself, and she didn’t let on to her comrades that
this condition usually resulted from her innate intuition warning, which she
knew was rarely wrong. Dismissing it as merely the result of too much study
into the reports of demised heroines, she pushed her concern backwards into her
mind and forged ahead with all the professional confidence she had become
assured and comfortable with.
Taking
up a position outside of the warehouse near a window, Gold moved slowly to peer
inside. Bronze and Silver took up positions within view of their leader but at
a good distance to create the usual secure “bubble” around them all. If anyone
planned to sneak up on them, it would be only ONE of them, and the others would
have enough distance to react to the attack. It was all part of the strategy
that had been so successful for them.
Gold
looked into the window, with barely a part of her forehead cracking the window
pane visage and there in the warehouse, with some type of rolled out plans
placed upon a table, were two men wearing balaclavas and military camo
fatigues. One man was directing the other as to something upon the map and the
other would then discuss it with him.
“What
have you got, Gold?” Silver whispered into her ear mic.
“Men in
ski masks, gloves and boots... looking over some blue prints... it looks like.”
She responded with a whisper into her own ear mike.
“Nothing
suspicious about that....” Bronze sweetly whispered to them both as she
maintained her position at the end of the warehouse keeping an eye on the
surrounding boardwalk and the rooftops for surprise attacks.
Gold
surveyed the room from where she could see and took note of the doorways and
windows in the surrounding walls. “Bronze, head east about twenty feet, there
is a door that looks like it could be easily picked. Silver, take the opposite
point down the wall you have staked out, there is a window that looks to be
half opened.” She instructed them.
“What about
you, boss?” Bronze asked while scanning the area.
“I’ll
be taking this window.... get to your positions and make sure you can enter. Be
quick, and remember, there are only two of them..... that we can SEE!”
Both
Bronze and Silver made their way to their designated positions and then secured
their opened entrances. Silver, by checking the ease of the window for opening,
and then sliding it carefully up. Bronze extracted a small tool from one of her
pockets and deftly picked the door lock with little trouble.
“Code
4.” Said one.
“Code
4.” Said the other.
Gold
had stood ready and waiting for their signals, with her position secured and
with a mighty shove of the window before her, she gave the order “advance!” and
then crashed through the glass with a mighty blow.
Shards
and slivers of glass blasted forward into the room as Gold made her explosive
entrance. Silver and Bronze also entered from their positions at the same
instant and threw Paco and Running Bear into a momentary panic. They looked up
and then behind them as the heroines blasted into the room and they suddenly
realized that they were instantly surrounded. Following their instructions,
they both grabbed something heavy, Paco a nearby crowbar and Running Bear a
ball peen hammer, and they tossed it at Gold and Bronze.
The
heroines dodged and rolled to avoid the deadly weapons but Silver was upon the
two men in an instant before either was able to make a run for it. She jumped
the entire distance between herself and Paco and landed feet first into his
lower back. This sent him flying into his partner across the table as Running
Bear turned to make a run out of the door Bronze had entered. Both men landed
in a clump on the floor of the warehouse as the heroines closed in on their
position.
“Hold
it right there, boys!” Gold ordered them as she arrived on the scene with a
jump and run. “You two are obviously up to no good, give it to us straight what
these blue prints are, and we’ll see to it that the law takes your cooperation
into account.”
Using a
fake, “Speedy Gonzales” Mexican voice, Paco responded as he slowly rose from
the floor. “We don’t know not-ing about no blue prints, senorita!” And with
that he dashed for the door, heading straight for Bronze who had closed in behind
Running Bear, who himself was now in a crouched position also on his own feet.
He saw Paco’s dash and moved in time with him, swinging around quickly and
bowling over the taken by surprise Bronze Stryke. She fell backwards as they
literally ran over the girl, stepping on her chest and head as they made their
way out.
“Agghh!”
Bronze cried out as the men trampled on her chest with their heavy boots.
Gold
didn’t waste a minute and lunged at the men as they tried to escape. She got
Paco around the waist and tripped him up with her legs within only a few feet.
They both fell toward the door. Running Bear, leaped and jumped out into the
night as Paco was taken down, but Silver Stryke was right behind him and with a
mighty leap tackled the Indian before he had gotten three feet out of the door.
They tumbled and spun on the boardwalk as Running Bear struggled to get away
from the heroine, who threw punches and kicks in close range with each dodge
punch and attempt to counter from Running Bear.
Paco lifted
up his torso and tried to swing a backwards fist at Gold who had tumbled and
spun with him for a few feet after her own tackle move. Gold avoided his clumsy
attack easily and landed two quick right-left combinations to his chin and
solar plexus which he had left wide open.
He fell
backwards and Gold grabbed his white wife beater as he hung in her grip. She
snarled down at him as she stood above him, “You really picked the wrong town
to try this sort of thing,punk. Do you know who we are?” She snapped.
Bronze
suddenly appeared behind Paco, out of his line of site, and still hurting from
her trampling she swung the previously thrown hammer at Paco’s head and said,
“We’re Stryke Force 1, you bastard, and we’re your worst nightmare!”
Paco
instantly pulled up his wife beater and slid down to the floor as Gold was left
holding nothing but the white cotton muscle top, and as he did this, Bronze’s
hammer connected with the side of Gold’s head. BRAKKKKK!
Stars
and lightning storms erupted in Gold’s vision as the pain from her temple
wobbled her a bit and she grabbed hold of her forehead. “Aggghh!” She cried
out.
“Oh,
GOD!!!” Bronze screamed and she quickly grabbed hold of Gold’s arms in order to
inspect her injury. “Gold, oh honey! I am so sorry!”
Paco
made the most of the situation and rolled, jumped and scattered like an
escaping cat out into the night. Holding one side of her head, Gold pointed and
ordered Bronze, “Get him! Forget me!”
“Right!
Right! Of course!” Bronze agreed with some reservation, but she did as ordered
and headed out into the night after Paco.
Gold
held her head and groaned as she felt the full impact of the hammer on her
skull. Her vision was blurred and she headed slowly forward to help her team,
despite her temporary incapacity.
Silver
was having the usual regular time with Running Bear as she connected with every
punch and kick she attempted, sending him rolling and sliding across the
boardwalk. But with each punch and kick the Indian only turned and tried to get
away. Silver found it a bit unusual that he seemed reluctant to fight, but she
kept after him anyway.
Paco
made good progress at leading Bronze out into the triangulation area that the
team had set up ahead of time, but she was just as fast as he was and at a full
sprint tacked him again in the open area between the main warehouses. They
toppled and tossed and spun across the boardwalk, trading punches and kicks
along the way in a furious display of battle training that was not for the
faint of heart.
Bronze
got an advantage at one point and flattened Paco against the wall of one of the
buildings, she then peppered him with slaps and punches and kicks which made
him cover up in defense. To her surprise, she was suddenly grabbed from behind
by another pair of hands. She ducked, spun on a heel and clipped the person
behind her with a swinging leg. He went falling sideways and landed with a
thump. Bronze looked up, and with a bit of a stall, noticed three other men in
the same regalia closing in on her. They all looked big and vicious and carried
heavy iron rods or metal tools.
Paco
grabbed her from behind in a bear hug and the man on the ground threw his arms
around the heroine’s legs. “Aggh! Let go you bastards!” She protested. The
biggest man of the approaching group, the one they knew as “Mac” closed the
distance between them and threw a hay maker into Bronze’s midsection.
Unable
to block his punch, she doubled over with a groan. “AAAGGGuuu!!!”
At that
moment Running Bear, battered and bleeding, came rocketing around the warehouse
side and plowed right into the whole company. They all went flying in various
directions. Silver Stryke was right behind him, but managed to leap and twirl
over the falling bodies.
She
landed in a three point stance next to Bronze who was rolling on the ground and
said, “Bronze? Getting a little in over your head, sweety?”
With
that the Asian powerhouse spun and twirled, summer salted and kicked, all the
while knocking larger, armed and burly henchman right and left. Bronze kicked
herself up off the ground and did a backwards tumble to face several of the men
who had begun to charge them again. Mac headed for the smaller red head and
drew back with a big fist to put her lights out while she concentrated on the other
attacking henchmen, but he found his arm being grabbed and pulled behind him.
Twisted
and pushed upward, Mac groaned and tried to look behind him to see whom it
could be that had so halted his progress. With a snarl and a nasty attitude
Gold menaced in his ear, “You’re not going to be using that arm anymore tonight
if I have anything to say about it.”
“Bitch!”
He spat at Gold. He then used his other elbow to swing backwards and try to hit
Gold in the head with it’s apex, but she knew the move was coming and dodged
while twisting the arm she held. She then brutally kicked him in the bend of
the knee, sending him to the ground.
“AGGGHH!!
Bitch! I will KILL you!” He shouted as he hit the ground twirling.
The
battle continued for quite a few minutes as the heroine trio countered the six
men who tried to keep them in the same spot as per their instructions. Bronze
held her own, emboldened by Gold’s obvious recovery, and Silver bounced between
men and walls and pylons and from roof cropping like a thing not truly of this
world. The men wanted to run and escape the berserker fighter but their loyalty
held them in the arena.
Gold
was privately surprised by how tough they all were. She landed some of her best
hits time and again and the men either did not feel the abuse or there was
something hyped up about their physical stamina that was per-fabricated,
unnatural. Whatever the case, the battle dragged on without interruption for
what seemed like an inordinate amount of time. Growing impatient with their
begrudging persistence, Gold began to decide that perhaps there was more at
play here than just everyday henchmen and it was time to find out some answers,
answers that were not coming forward as the battle raged on.
Mac
turned back to Gold once more and threw two boxing style rights and lefts as
Gold dodged and kicked, connecting each time, and not taking the larger man
down. He went all out to try and box, and kick and parry every move she made,
but all he did was get sweaty with the attempt. Gold‘s fighting style, with
multiple, simultaneous attacks, was impossible for him to penetrate and he began to become “antsy” while waiting
for her to make a certain move. Luckily, for him, he wouldn‘t have to wait very
long.
“Okay,
I have had enough.... “ Gold shouted. “Stryke Force 1, Code 12!” She ordered
with a shouting voice.
With
that, she reached for the sky with a closed fist and Silver and Bronze ceased
their own individual struggles and also reached for the sky with closed fists.
Behind
his balaclava, Mac privately smiled.
Stryke
Force 1's wrist clasps glowed white hot and an ear piercing sound much like
microphone feedback suddenly filled the night air. Gold and Silver and Bronze
Stryke had done this many times, and it was usually the way these things ended
as those they struggled against grabbed their unprepared ears and screamed,
only to collapse onto the ground unconscious. Gold stood proudly as she fired
up the sonic disruptor on her wrist, whose sound was caught by the metal palettes
that had been set up on the rooftops facing each other.
BEEEEENNNNDDDUUURRRRAAAMMMM!!!!
The
instant sound reverberated and slammed into the heroine’s inner ears with a
torrential force that disabled their own electronic protections.
“AAAHHHHH!!!”
Gold screamed.
“AAHHGG!!:
Bronze screamed.
“GHHaaaa!!!!”
Silver screamed.
And
then all three heroines collapsed upon the boardwalk into unconsciousness.
Their contesting counterparts all stood around admiring the view and trying to
catch their breath. The dock was eerily silent as they all stood around
admiring Quimby’s successful game plan. And they began to high five one another
in triumph.
Chauncey
angrily paced up to Mac and protested, “ This fuckin’ Asian bitch like to broke
my jaw!”
Another
man agreed, “She jumps off of the walls... throws a mean punch...she’s nuts!!!”
“This
red head liked to almost groined me, I didn’t think fightin’ dirty was their
style...” Said another.
Mac
nodded as he moved toward Gold Stryke. “Yeah.... “ He replied to them as he
took a toe of his shoe and placed it under Gold’s chin. He then turned her head
the other way with a slight kick. “They’re fighters... and this bitch here
almost twisted my arm out the socket.... we were told they were fighters.... we
knew it wouldn’t be easy.”
Running
Bear silently stepped forward and presented himself to Mac. He was bleeding
from his nose and ears, his shirt was covered in splotches of blood and his
head and arms were all scratched up and bruised. He didn’t need to say much.
Mac
gave him a “Damn, dude!” expression and shook his head. Then he turned to the
rest of the men and said, “Okay, men. Here’s the part where we find out why
Quimby had us drink all that crap. Grab yourself a stupid bitch and throw their
ass over the dock railing, ass up-head down.
Two by
two the henchmen grabbed a member of Stryke Force, one under the armpits and
the other would take a pair of booted feet and they moved over to the railing
that ran along the end of the docks, it extended about 12 feet above the dark
water below. Gold Stryke was placed over the railing with her hands hanging
over the water and her buttocks high in the air, her feet were resting on their
tops as her legs draped languidly over the boardwalk. Silver Stryke was placed
next to her, also with her buttocks prominently displayed and then Bronze was
fitted in closely next to her. Silently each heroine’s head hung unconscious
over the undulating water below, they were totally unaware of their current
helpless condition.
“Boris!”
Mac Called. And another man, carrying a backpack came rushing over.
“I have
it! I have it!” He assured Mac. Within moments he had extracted a small box and
some small bottles from the pack. He then opened the box and retrieved the
syringe that had been lying in wait within and then began to drain the bottles.
Mac
searched each heroine for some kind of clasp on the front of her shorts and
when he found it, he pulled the shorts down half way exposing their naked rumps
in the process.
“Get it
done. Get it done.” He told Boris.
Boris
then went from lovely backside to lovely backside injecting especially prepared
fluid into their blood streams. When each woman felt the prick of a needle, she
gave out with a little “AH!” of surprise, but remained in the twilight between
wakefulness and sleep.
“Okay
boys... “ Mac then told them. “Drag them over to the wall over there and make
‘em sit”
Paco
protested. “Patron, I have a knife.... let me slit the bitches throats while we
have them beaten....”.
“NO!”
Mac insisted. “You work for Tergesen, you do things his way... and his way is
to give Quimby his jollies....”
The
three heroines were then dragged over to a nearby wall and sat upright. Mac
then began to undo his trousers and he said to his men, “Let’s get Quimby’s
plan finished.... I’m just exhausted.... let’s get it over.”
The
other men also either un-zipped their trousers or opened their fly and then
each one pulled out his penis and began to stroke it into hardness. Gold,
Silver and Bronze Stryke sat quietly tweening, falling under the influence of
the special drug they had been injected with as the men all primed their
manhood for the next part of the plan.
Mac
said while vigorously stroking himself into hardness, “Remember, you have to
get them to swallow.”
They
all nodded and each man began to grow and stiffen. Mac spied the beautiful
sleeping face of Gold Stryke, and wanting pay back for his possibly torn
rotator cuff, he crouched before her, dangling his long, dark pole before her
slightly parted lips.
“You’re
gonna love this, baby. They all do.” He told her as he pressed his swollen
glands into her sweet, hot mouth.
As he
penetrated her oral cavity she seemed to come a wake slightly and her eyes
tried to open half mast. “MMmmm!” She protested weakly, then seemed to be
falling back asleep. “NNNGGnnn!” She protested again with heavy, sleep
influenced eyes, her lips forced into a large “O” shape as they struggled to
surround his girth.
Mac
began to slowly push back and forth across her tongue as he fucked Gold’s mouth
and he grew even more as she seemed to have no choice but to begin to
involuntarily suck on his enlarging manhood, her cheeks puffing out helplessly
with each stroke.
Mac was really hurting from the beating he
had taken, all the men were, but he pushed himself to make the final course of
the evening take place, and in moments, even with languid, sleepy movements by
Gold’s hands as they tried to reach up and stop the oral piston-ing of her
mouth, Mac was riding her like a steam train in only a few moments. He held her
under the chin with one hand and had a hand full of her hair in the other as he
steadied her for the moment to come.
Finally,
sweaty and ready to drop himself, Mac felt his scrotum tighten and then he
exploded into Gold’s mouth and down her throat with the contents of his
chemically altered, manly body fluids. “MMMmmMMM!!” Gold coughed and spat as he
copulated and choked her air off. Mac then stiffened, and squeezed with all his
might to empty all of his seed into Gold’s unprotected tummy, his crinkly bush
closed off her nose and threatened to suffocate her. Her eyes rolled in her
head as she felt the spasms and fluids draining into her.
“GGGnnnnAAAwww!”
She protested again.
Mac
then pulled free of her mouth with a wet pop sound and watched as Gold seemed
to deflate with the release of tension. Her lovely mouth and chin, were slick
and wet with his effluence.
“Thank
you, beautiful.” He told her while trying to relax and feeling the brain
effects from his just having cum. “I guess this means we’re married now.”
Bronze
and Silver fared no better as other henchmen used them in much the same
fashion, emptying the chemically altered semen within their bodies into each
heroine’s bloodstream by way of forced oral copulation. They too could barely
defend themselves as they futilely mewed and groaned in protest while the men
ejaculated into their young, hot mouths. Weakened hands and arms were raised
and attempted to grip and push the men away, but were met with slaps and
stronger grips that kept the hands from succeeding at their attempted defense.
Within
mere moments, each heroine had fought and fallen to the misogynistic game plan
of the evil genius Quimby by way of Mr. Tergesen’s henchmen. They would be left
to their fate, their heads lolling in half sleep, their mouths coated with the
creamy living deposits of the henchmen they had fought, and their blood streams
now filled with an insidious, incomprehensible cocktail of chemicals and drugs
whose long term effects could only be a matter of conjecture.
“That’s
all of it, boys.” Mac told them while standing triumphantly over the sleeping
beauties. “Tergesen: 1, silly Super heroines: 0
The men
then left the heroines there, sitting on the docks, with their chins resting on
their chests, their “cooing” mouths slightly “ooooing" and “aaahhing"
as they slept... and the police were called.
*******
Faith
was busy on her knees in her large backyard garden. Dressed in jeans, her usual
gardening shirt and flip flops upon her feet, she busily dug and trenched the
dark earth with a various arrangement of gardening tools. Her lovely hair was
pulled back from her face by a bandanna that covered her whole head and was tied
in the back. She wore no makeup, and hadn’t even dressed in much else in the
last three days as she busied herself about the garden.
It was
something she always did to relieve stress. Garden work took her mind off of
many of the things that troubled her, be they small or large issues. For the
last three days, however, she had practically re-planted the entire garden. It
was all she had done, except perhaps to constantly feed her face in an attempt
to quench the driving hunger in her tummy. She didn’t know why the hunger just
wouldn’t go away, and a large part of her inner being seemed to be at war with
her desire to want to find out.
She had
taken three days off from work in the wake of the horrible happenings at
Fisherman’s Warf, and wanted to be nothing but normal, everyday and free from
the fact that for the first time Stryke Force 1 had been beaten by an
adversary. Surely, it was her fault, she admonished herself. She had not
prepared the team for what had happened to them, despite the impossible job of
having them prepared for everything and anything. But she had done a fine job
for the last five years, and wasn’t happy with losing. She wasn’t happy at all.
Her
front doorbell rang and she frowned at the prospect of visitors. But she pulled
off her gardening gloves and wiped her cheek with the backs of her hands and
headed for the door. Upon opening the door she was surprised to find the
smiling face of Senator Aaron Chatelain and her father, Louis Eaves, Senior.
“Aaron!
Dad! What are you two doing here?” She said inviting them into her home.
She
kissed them both and gave her dad a big hug. “What’s this all about,
gentlemen?” She asked.
“You
haven’t answered the phone in three days.” Aaron told her, placing an arm
around her waist. “And I can see you have been gardening.”
“Honey,
I gotta.....” Her dad motioned.
“Of
course, Dad. You know where it is....” She told him pointing to the hallway
where the lavatory was.
Aaron
leaned in and gave her a lover’s kiss, which she ordinarily loved, but this
time she undeniably found it annoying. He said to her, “Gardening? No phone
calls? No work for three days?”
“I’ve
been taking a break.” She told him with lowered eyes.
He
reached up and placed a hand on her head, pushing her bandanna down and off of
her hair, allowing he hair to fall forward around her face. She found his
forceful removal of her bandanna uniquely arousing as it caused her another
annoyance, and she had wanted to tell him to stop and NOT remove it, but had
only sighed and let him have his way. As it happened, there was an unusual
twinge deep within her lower body.
“Why
are you lying to me?” He asked. “Tell me what’s up while your dad is still in
the john.”
“The
director is quite upset with the whole office, I thought I would give him his
space. That’s all.” She responded and patted him on the chest. “Let me fix you
boys some lunch.” She offered, musing that since her hunger wouldn't go away,
she might as well feed her face again in front of her father and lover while
operating in a normal, everyday function.
He
watched her with suspicious eyes as she made her way to the kitchen and then he
looked out of the large patio door at the exterior garden. “Holy crap! Woman!”
He exclaimed. “Have you been building the hanging gardens of Babylon?”
She
snorted a small, quiet breath at the annoying comment and spoke to him in the
other room as she fixed lunch. “You know I always garden.... to relieve
stress.”
He came
around the corner of the kitchen door with a look of shock and amazement and
stated. “Stress, yes.... but what the hell is bothering my baby to THIS
degree?”
She
suddenly snapped at him in a move that even surprised him and she spat “Aaron!
Please! I am just fine!!!!” Then she stopped what she was doing and took a deep
breath while looking down at the counter top.
He came
up to her and held her arms with his hands and gently said, “Your dad’s
flushing the toilet. Tell me quick. I took off today from the office just to
come check up on you.”
“I know.
I know.” Faith told him with a nod. “Turgesen pulled off a major job down at
Fisherman’s Warf. No one is sure just how it happened, but it was the very
thing we were all trying to prevent. We’re all feeling frustrated... “
“...and
ineffectual.” He said, finishing her thought. “What about the Stryke Force 1?
Didn’t they have your intel on the operation?”
“They
did... they did....No one is sure just what happened. No one has heard from
them since Friday night....” She told him with searching eyes.
He
leaned in close to her as though to whisper as they both heard the bathroom
door open and her father returning to the room. He whispered, “I was sent a
report from legal, a police report.... it had some amazing things to say about
what happened to Stryke Force 1. It may help to know that they are still in
operation....”
She
gave him a shocked look, and then glanced to see if her dad was within earshot.
She was very worried that Aaron had been given a police report about the way
the team had been found; beaten, woozy, and with their shorts pulled down
around their hips. They had been left like the drunken bums on the bowery for
the authorities to find. How much did he know?
“I can’t believe you would have that
information, Aaron. Who would have....?”
“I’ll
tell you later.... “ He motioned as her dad could be heard approaching. “But
your superhero ladies had their asses handed to them Friday night, that’s why
your boss is so upset.”
She
looked at him with a pause and her mouth fell slightly open at his rendition of
events. The words cut like a dagger through her gut.
“Okay,
okay... you two,” Her dad began as he entered the room. “What’s all this
intense whispering about?”
“Dad,
have a seat at the table, I am going to make us all lunch.” She said with a
kind smile.
“You
young people.... “ Her dad mused. “You think you have to keep things from the
old folks... but we’ve seen everything.... when ya gonna get that?”
“Sorry,
Louis.” Aaron said to him while taking a seat next to him. We didn’t want to
spoil your surprise party.”
Louis
Eaves snorted and responded, “Government! Haven’t you got some everyday
citizens to spy on somewhere?” He joked.
Faith
returned to the table forcing a smile and trying to keep a positive expression
and not let on to the turmoil deep within her. They all had salads and
sandwiches with iced tea and chatted about any number of things that concerned
their everyday lives. Aaron wasn’t fooled, however, as he watched his long
time, beautiful and svelte future fiance’ stuffing her face with enough food to
feed his whole staff.
*******
Lizzelle
Drake had a rather unusual personal life, as her closest friend and lover was
also a trained athlete who had been in the Olympics a few years past. But the
odd thing to most was the fact that, although not related, the two of them
looked weirdly like sister and brother. For most people it was an odd thing to
find a brightly red haired girl who’s boyfriend was himself a long haired red
head with a face full of lightly sparse freckles.
She had
called him on Saturday morning, with a face full of tears and shame, greatly
distressed at the events of Friday night, but had simply told him, in a lie,
that a younger cousin who lived across the country had been killed in an auto
accident. She just couldn’t bring herself to face the world after Stryke Force
1 had experienced its first humiliating defeat. She still felt the bumps and
bruises from the battle, still tasted the foul acrid linger of strange male
penis on her tongue, but it couldn’t compare to the foul taste of defeat which
she had never known before.
Arnold
had spent the next three days comforting her, lying with her and holding her
crying, upset form in his arms until late in the night. He had never seen her
like this, and he wondered beyond his own good sense if indeed there was more
going on here than the tragic death of a child.
Wednesday
morning she seemed to be in a bit better spirits, and he made her some eggs and
bacon to wake her up with the delicious smell. She appeared in the kitchen with
her hair all messed upon her head and a sleepy, worn out expression on her
face.
“That smells great...” She murmured. “I hope
you made fifty pounds of it.” She joked.
Arnold
chuckled at the comment, but little did the young man know that it was a
strategically placed comment meant to hide her intent at raiding the
refrigerator once more like she had done everyday for the last five days. It
concerned him to see her packing it in like she had. It was behavior he had
never seen her perform before. Usually, when she was upset, the moment didn’t
last but until the next morning, but this time, he had been entreated to stay
for five days. Not wanting to pester her, he had allowed her to simply wade
through the difficulty and he had been there to hold her and smooth out the
rough edges.
She
walked over to him and gave him a long, deep kiss and then said, “ Thank you
for being here, I really needed your help these last few days.”
He
wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close and asked. “What is
it about what has happened that has made you such a bed bug? Huh?”
She
smiled. “You mean the constant sex?”
“The
constant need to put something in your mouth.... if not my tool... then a bread
stick...” He half joked.
“I’m
ravenous... that’s all....”
“Are
you preggers?” He asked with concern.
“Oh,
no.... “ She told him. “I am just recovering from a real shock is all...”
“Uh
huh.” He responded with disbelief. “You can tell me anything, you know...”
“I
know.”
“Usually
when you’re going to town on me, I can relax and let go..... but gotta tell
ya.... you gotta little scary a few times there...... you never gave head like
that before....”
She
nodded and silently agreed. “Can we go and do it again?” She asked with
pleading eyes.
“What
about breakfast?”
“Fuck
breakfast. Fuck me.” She flatly told him.
Usually
this kind of moment was a friendly, loving and play-filled instance which
Arnold and Lizzelle could both laugh and giggle and have funny sex play with.
But the look in Lizzelle’s eyes gave him a bit of a chill and he silently
nodded his cooperation. He took her hand and lead her back into the bedroom,
with her walking behind him holding his hand. And as he did he couldn’t deny
that the strange moment seemed like a walk to the death chamber.
*******
Samantha
Trang and her family lived high up in the hill country section of Capitol City.
The palatial mansion housed three generations and 19 members of her family.
Behind the affluent address, was a tall pagoda type building she used as a
temple and place to meditate when life got to be too much. Today, Samantha
spends her fifth day in silent yoga style meditation as she attempts to deal
with the disastrous results of Stryke Force 1's last mission.
Her
silent reverie was interrupted by the quiet shuffling of age old, yet familiar
feet. Seeing her distress, her grandfather, a wise sage far into his 90's,
joined her in the pagoda. As he sat down on the bench within the inner room he
quietly regarded Samantha as she sat in lotus position upon the plush rug
covered floor.
“There
is much distress within you , mayfly.” The old man intoned.
Sam
lifted her eyes and turned to the old man and said, “Grandfather, if I speak with
you on it, I fear I will not be able to tell you the truth. It is not my wish
to attempt to insult you..... with fabrication.”
The old
man, dressed in a long flowing robe of deep blue with small gold oriental
highlights, and a long handled pipe between his lips nodded his understanding.
“This has much to do with the Stryke Force 1, does it not?” He asked.
She
looked around with questioning eyes and asked him, “Grandfather, I beg you....
no one else may know what you know....”
“Do not
be alarmed, mayfly. It is only I who am within earshot.”
She
shook her head. “My shame... it is too great.” And then she closed her eyes and
attempted to go back to her meditation.
“Failure....
is often a stepping stone to greater success....one must not fear it.... one
must embrace the chance for larger growth.”
Without
looking his way again she lifted her eyes and peered out into the surrounding
hills. “A great crime has been perpetrated against my person.... I fear its
effects may have altered me in ..... some unknown way...”
“You
now insult your grandfather....” He mused.
“Yes...
I apologize... I do know the way... and it is an offense to me.... I cannot
hold out against it...” She told him with a heavy sigh.
He
nodded. “No man knows fear, mayfly... until fear comes to him.... yet fear
exists long before a man is born. Once fear arrives... it is a matter of what
is within one’s self .... in order to deal with it. Many things are like this.
Many things are just as fear is..... nothing is new but the man.... or the
woman herself.”
“This
day, Grandfather. I should be dead. I should be lifeless and at the bottom of
the river. But I am not, and yet others before me may have met similar fates.
I, and my team, were spared for something unseen.... something unknown which
comes our way.....” She said while still looking out into the hills.
Her
grandfather merely sat, puffing on his long pipe and listening.
She
continued. “This fear.... this new fear... for me.... comes with a heavy price
I am not sure that I can pay.”
He
pulled the pipe from his lips and nodded. “Were you to face a mighty dragon,
with mighty jaws and a fiery breath.... and not feel the heat of his flame?
..... would you not find your skin ravaged ... perhaps for all time .... in
order to bring about his downfall? This is a decision that has already been
made..... and one that must be seen through to its victory..... or defeat.”
She
slowly turned and faced the old man while still sitting before him. “I do not
enjoy defeat, Grandfather.”
He
shrugged his shoulders and replied. “My little mayfly, which of us truly
enjoyed being removed from the womb?”
*******
Quimby
was a scientific genius who had few peers. His large, potato shaped head had a
little tuft of black hair upon its rounded point. He wore big, black rimmed
glasses that made his eyes look like magnified black saucers surrounded by the
whites in his sockets. Barely sporting a neck, his shoulders rested just below
his bulbous head, and the rest of his torso fanned out from shoulders to bottom
in an unusually grotesque rolling, churning “bowling pin” of fat. His short,
fat legs always dangled from any stool or seat he took and it was a marvel to
many just how he managed to keep his rotund body from tipping over.
But
Quimby’s body was not the main interest for Ken Turgesen’s organization. His
main concern was the other-worldy like genius of the man despite his almost
frightening addiction to several types of perversion. Turgesen had found that
the price to be paid for Quimby’s genius was his fulfillment of his most base
fantasy desires. Once discovered, he had run with the concept and his
organization’s growth had gone through the roof as a result.
“OOOoooooOOOOOOOOOoooooo!”
Quimby cooed as he sat within his lab which was a part of the temporary
headquarters of Turgesen’s encroaching organization. He sat looking through
photographs he had printed out from the internet, and with each pass of a
photo, he spoke an amazed, “OOOOOooooOOOOOooooo!” in response.
On the
same Wednesday after the routing of Stryke Force 1 at Fisherman’s Warf, Mac
walked into the lab from the outside hallway, having been instructed to meet
Mr. Turgesen himself there. He heard Quimby cooing to himself loudly and
giggling as well and wondered to himself what all that crazy shit could be
about. Never having been too far into the temp lab before, he stopped to take a
look at one of the side walls.
What
the Fuck? He asked himself, as he saw an entire wall of women’s hair color
boxes all lined up and stacked on top of one another as though they had been
put on display for sale in a drug store. They were curiously only brunette
colors.
Bizarre
behavior by Quimby had become an expected thing by everyone who knew him for
only a short amount of time, but this even caught Mac by surprise. Oh, hang on.
He told himself. There’s chemicals in that stuff. Yeah, he’s cannibalizing
chemicals. He surmised.
OOOooooOOOOoooooo!”
Went Quimby once more, and Mac turned to see what Quimby was up to. Walking down
rows of tables with beakers, Bunsen burners, notebooks and other weird science
stuff all on display, he finally reached the “pumpkin” like scientist at the
end of one of the back tables.
“Yo,
Quimby.” He called out. “What’s shakin’, my man?”
Quimby
turned with a start and crouched as though he had been swung at with an unseen
disciplinary ruler. He regarded Mac with huge, almost alien like eyes behind
his large lense glasses and broke forth with a crooked smile.
“OOOoooo
hello, Mac!” He said with too much enthusiasm.
“Mac!
Mac! Is this the Gold Stryke?? Is this the girl who leads the Stryke Force 1?”
He asked as he held up an API photograph of Gold Stryke between his two chubby
hands.
Mac
took a look at Gold Stryke, smiled a bit, nodded and told Quimby, “Yeah, that’s
the bitch.”
“OOOooooOOOooooO!”
Quimby cooed again with almost a quiver of his whole body. “She is sooooo
bea-you-teeeee-fullll!” He dragged out with a bizarre, guttural sound in his
voice.
“Yeah,
she’s hot shit.” Mac agreed. “I’m the one who nailed her. Got her filled up for
ya just right.” He said with an assured nod.
“OOOOOooooOOOoooo!
You? You got her yourself?” Quimby asked with a smack of his crooked lips.
“Yeah,
aint no thing.... once your reverb knocked them stupid... we gave 'em the
shots... then the tube steak boogie.... was like any other time, bro. I done it
in and out of prison.”
“NNNoooooooo
waaaaaayyyy!!!! Noooooo wayyyyyyyy!” Quimby dribbled out with astonishment.
“You see this picture?” he told Mac holding up the photo again for him to see.
“Yeah.....
dude, you need to chill.” Mac cautioned Quimby.
“No!
No, you don’t understand.... her hair is shiny and brown.... her face is like a
European beauty.... look at those legs!!!! Hmm hmmm hmmm!”
“Quimby....
there’s women like that all over the world, man.” Mac said shaking his head.
“But
YOU humiliated her! Heeeehhhheeeeeehhheeeeeeheee....”
Mac
shook his head again and rubbed the back of his neck. “I did the job I was
hired to do.”
“But
YOU’RE a BLACK MAN!!!!”
Mac
froze and raised an eyebrow. “......say what?”
“You
see, Mac.... one of my favorite fetishes is the violation of the beautiful
super heroine by the the raging bull stud black man...like you!” He said
smiling.
Mac
took offense and stepped back. “Quimby! You CRAZY talkin’ like that to me?”
“You....you
are the black adonis.... the mighty big black di....”
Mac
raise up a hand to stop Quimby’s next word and said with an amazed expression.
“Dude, you need to chill on that kinda language, man. I realize your haid is
always on the fuckin’ internet when you not doin’ the science thing..... but
this shit is wack, bro!”
“But
all white women love big black....”
“NO!
No, that shit is just fetish bullshit.... get that straight..... and it’s all
about stretching your dick by yourself. It ain’t real, man. People is people,
who the fuck cares what color they are???? Get your head straight, jacko!”
Quimby
looked perplexed and confused and asked, “You ..... you mean you really don’t
mesmerize all the girls????”
“Quimby,
if I do.... it’s got nothing to do with the fact that I am black! I suggest you
knock that shit off!”
“I’m....
I’m so sorry, Mac.....” Quimby said while looking to the ground in shame and
confusion. “I never meant to make you angry..... I just..... um, get ....off....”
Mac
stood with his hands on his hips shaking his head lightly. “I know, dude. I
know you spend too much time alone.... never with no real woman.... damn fetish
sites..... it’s a fuckin’ unreal world, man.”
At that
moment a familiar and commanding voice interrupted the current conversation
from behind one of the adjoining tables. “I’m glad to see you understand,
Mac.... it’s important we keep the team all on the same page.” Mr. Turgesen
informed him as he stepped forward into view.
Mac
seemed a bit surprised and sheepish to see the big man suddenly in their midst
and he took a few steps backward and tried to explain, “Oh, Mr. Tergesen, I
didn’t realize you were here, sir... you know I was just trying to set Quimby
straight on a few issues....”
“Yes,
yes... I heard enough...” Tergesen replied. He was flanked by two large men,
one on each side as he made his way forward. Ken Tergesen was a big man at
six-foot-two, but more of a desk jockey, a money man than the athletic Mac or
the super cerebral Quimby, and he wore an expensive pin striped suit with a
silk tie and vest. His hair was slicked back with gel and he wore thin silver
rimmed glasses. In his hand was a small cigar which made little steams of white
smoke as he spoke and motioned with his hands.
“Quimby
is special in many ways, Mac... and I think you sense that... he does the job
for me.. and his return is my allowing him to run wild with the fetish
thing.... it’s just business.”
Mac
nodded his understanding. “Yes, sir... I just took a little offense at some of
his language....”
Quimby
piped up with a solemn expression. “I...I am sorry, Mac.”
Turgesen
continued, “He’s not very ‘P.C.’ by today’s standards.....” He said with a
moderate understanding. “But then he doesn’t have to be as long as he does the
job.... still, Quimby try and be more sensitive will you?”
“Yes.....
sir.” Quimby responded and looked toward the ground in sorrow.
Mac,
trying to help Quimby back up off of the emotional ground, referred to the
photos Quimby held of Gold Stryke. “He likes the leader.... I think he has been
having a little too much private fun.... right, Quimby?” Mac said trying to get
a smile from the crestfallen scientist.
Quimby
looked up at Mac with a slightly embarrassed expression and said, “Hmm hmmm
heheh you know me too well already, Mac. Heeehheee.”
Turgesen’s
men made little movements of impatience and snorted a bit as they stood beside
him, and Turgesen himself cracked a smile, but then pushed to get down to
business. “I want you guys to know you did a great job with this first part of
the plan. I see a great potential at removing these so called 'do gooders’ from
getting into my business in the future. We got a little beat up, but that’s
part of the price we pay. Quimby, what’s your next move?”
Quimby’s
eyes lit up and suddenly it seemed he was into another gear altogether as he
instantly became more analytical and serious. “Oh, I have just the thing for
phase two. Special battle suits and a layout for the surrounding grounds that
will remind many of war tactics from Vietnam.”
Turgesen
chuckled at the idea. “Sounds..... ambitious.”
Mac
looked to Turgesen with a “Aint this guy too much” expression and shook his
head in amazement.
Turgesen
smiled and bit into his cigar as he settled back to listen to what Quimby had
to say.
Quimby
continued. “We will spread more dis-information among the contacts who feed
these heroines their intel. They will believe that the old, abandoned amusement
park is being 'commandeered’ to be used as a new base for your operations, Mr.
Turgesen. With a new crew for Mac, one that hasn’t been so abused by the Stryke
Force, there will be fresh muscle..... and they will be wearing a special suit
I have designed for up close hand to hand battle.”
He
turned and opened a nearby drawer underneath one of the tables. He then
extracted what looked like a green overcoat with long sleeves. The coat had
little tubes running the length of it which could be easily seen as fiber
re-enforcement.
“You
see...” Quimby said. “The suits will seem to be made of tougher fibers to
handle the combat, but instead they secrete a colorless, orderless gas which
the heroines will inhale as they fight Mac’s men. The men will be immune, as
they were to the semen cocktail from last time, so they will have full
capability for deep breathing.... which happens anyway during this intense
physical exertion.”
Mac
inturrupted. “Do we have to drink more of that crap you give us? It tastes like
death!”
Turgesen
added. “Yes, Quimby, isn’t it possible to make things a little more tasty for
them this time. I have gotten lots of complaints about these chemicals you are
feeding my men....”
Quimby
again became apologetic. “Oh! Of course..... of course..... it seems I can do
nothing without upsetting someone.....damn..... I will cover the taste with
high fructose corn syrup.... just like professional cola producers do.”
“But
isn’t that stuff poison?” Turgesen asked.
“Only
in the long term....” Quimby assured him. “Thousands die every year from the
effects of HFCS in the public food supply, but because the effects are mostly
long term, it seems death comes as a result of old age..... but your men, will
only be ingesting this for the purpose of defeating the super heroines..... and
humiliating them, of course.”
Mac
shook his head. “I am NOT crazy about all these chemicals, sir.”
Turgesen
grabbed Mac’s shoulder gently and re-assured him. “Mac, you have the best medical
coverage there is, when this is all over, we’re gonna clean you up... I
promise.”
Mac
nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“I have
a detailed report I will turn into you before the day is over,” Quimby told Mr.
Turgesen. “Once you have given the go-ahead. Then Mac can present it to his
men....”
Turgesen
nodded. “Okay. Now what humiliations have you got planned?” He asked with a
humorous fascination.
“OOOOooooOOOOoooOOOOoo!”
Quimby again cooed. He turned and grabbed a remote control and pressed a few
buttons. Then opened another drawer. As he did, in response to the remote,
there were a half a dozen or so small, metallic balls which floated into view
from all around the lab, and they hovered in a haphazard formation all around
the five men. On the walls behind Quimby, several monitors came to life and
revealed the viewpoint of the metal balls, who had cameras in their shells but
seemed to move about without any discernible power source or locomotive
capacity.
“This
time,” Quimby said. “The humiliation goes public.” And he then pulled out of
the drawer a small “pigs” snout with a
string attached to it, which he held in one hand. In his other hand, he held a
head band with artificial “pigs ears”.
Mac
questioned. “A pig snout and ears?”
“Oh
yes! You turned them into little suckling piggies last time.... but no one
knew.... we’ll do it again this time.... and everyone will get to see what
little suckling piggies the Stryke Force 1 really are!
HHHEEEEhhhheeehhhheeeee.....hhheeeeeehhheeeeeee......(snort-snort)”
*******
The
hour was late, long after most citizens of Capitol City had fallen asleep on
the Craig Ferguson Show. The sky was star speckled and clear, with a light
breeze blowing in from over the river. The interstate highway was freckled with
late night travelers whose car and truck headlights silently scanned the
surface of the cement ramps on the turnpike. Few but the most powerful persons
in this town were aware of the imminent cancer that had now begun to infect the
city.
It had
been a month since the defeat of the city’s proud heroines, though only a few
in the know had any knowledge of their humiliation at the hands of Turgesen’s
men. Strike Force 1 had been able to recuperate, re-train and re-assert their
courage and confidence for another try at stopping the criminal organization
threatening every citizen. For Faith, Lizzelle and Samantha it had been an
uphill climb to bring themselves back from a crushing defeat of body, soul and
spirit. But they had managed to eek one out. The problem was that their hunger
had never abated, they had never been able to find an answer to the constant
nagging in their gut that they simply HAD to put something in their mouths.
Embarrassed
by the prospect of having to explain to the science team just how they had
managed to be injected with chemically altered semen, they had passed on
getting some type of medical check up and had opted instead to tough it out and
hope that the effects would dissipate over time.
Sadly,
Quimby’s science had seen to it that certain sections of their brains which
control hunger, desire and thirst would never shut off when satisfied. This
resulted in many sleepless nights, poor combat practice drills and almost ten
pounds of additional weight on their bodies. For the subjugated heroines, there
truly seemed to be no way out without some type of outside help. They had
decided finally, after much struggle, to seek the assistance of the science
team.
Unfortunately,
their decision came too late before their snitch intel system had informed them
of the intended plans of Turgesen’s organization. Uncovering the hidden info
from low-life, Johnny no-nose, down in the seedy parts of town, the team had
informed their command of their intent to suit up and go after Turgesen’s men.
Begrudgingly, the director had agreed, and Styke Force 1 was back on the prowl.
The old
abandoned amusement park stood silent and somber in the night. The rides no
longer spun and turned, the lights no longer flashed and jangled for winners of
the giant Teddy Bears. The roller coaster, long silent and still, no longer
climbed to great heights and then fell with the pull of gravity and the sound
of clackityclackity wooden tracks. Instead the ground was often dusty and
covered with dew. There was a fog which surrounded the stands and rides on
almost a nightly basis, which barely stirred before the morning sun would warm
it all away.
Tonight
was a night like any other night as the closed park sat silently, awaiting
government paperwork to raze it all and flatten it into a parking lot. The
difference was that tonight, two teams with much different objectives for the
city as a whole would meet here on these grounds. And when they did meet, in
close personal combat, away from the eyes and ears of the sleeping city, the
fate of that city would be decided before sunrise.
Capitol
City University sat just across the street from the old amusement park. It’s
many buildings covered a wide campus which had many proud graduates who had
long since moved on to other places and careers. Tonight, upon the roof of one
of the tallest university buildings, stood the threesome heroine team known as
Stryke Force 1. Bronze Stryke stood looking through a gun site on a high
powered rifle which was set up on a tripod. Gold Stryke was busy adjusting the
settings for the gun clamps and Silver Stryke was busy looking over the park
across the street for any and all movement.
Bronze
pulled her eye away and said, “Looks perfect. I should be able to hit almost
anything from here. Not to brag, you understand, but I AM a crack shot.”
Gold
stood from her crouch while finishing her adjustments and replied, “Yes, that’s
why your assignment to operate this sniper rifle tonight. Because your going to
create problems for our adversaries that they will not be able to solve easily.
Remember, listen for my call if I need you to start picking them off.”
“Got
it, boss.” She told Gold. “Everyone likes the game plan.”
“You
bet they do.” Gold retorted confidently.
Silver
then spoke up, “I don’t see anything. Even with the infra red lenses.” She said
taking the glasses down from her eyes. “Do you think Johnny was wrong.... could
he have been fed the wrong information? We could be in the wrong spot....”
“No,
no.” Gold assured her. “This is the night.... this is the place.”
“Okay.”
Silver responded and nodded her confident approval.
“Now
listen to me, both of you.” Gold told them directly. “We’ve had a bad time of
it.... and we’re still hurting. But tonight we put this all behind us. Tonight
we punch Turgesen right in the nose. We’re Stryke Force 1. We win. Understood?”
They
both smiled and nodded their understanding with proud and appreciative eyes to
their leader.
Mac
looked out onto the grounds of the park from his hidden spot behind the haunted
house ride and radioed his man Peoter with the mic and ear piece combination
under his dark green, full coverage rubber head mask. “Peoter.... see anything
yet?” He whispered.
Peoter
looked out with his infra red lenses across the expanse of the park. He was
high up in the park lights on top one of the small walkways where workmen used
to repair or replace lights. He had a back pack full of electronic gear and a
switch box. He also had a full, dark green body suit that hid his body heat
from detection. The suit, like all of the twenty men Mac had brought tonight,
was ribbed with the gas tubes that Quimby had installed in order to
oderless-ly, and invisibly gas the young heroines that would be engaging them
tonight.
“The
grounds are clear, sir. They must have not taken the bait.” Peoter responded.
“Oh,
they are here .... somewhere....” Mac responded. “All other units, report.”
One by
one each unit of men responded over the inner ear microphones. Mac would have
to wait. None of the units reported any activity.
Bronze
Stryke looked over the grounds, back and forth, through her rifle site from her
roof top perch. “Nothing yet.” she radioed to Gold and Silver.
Gold
and Silver snaked and darted their way through the surrounding neighborhood and
brief wooded area that led to the park’s perimeter. They had separated and each
headed for per-arranged points of entrance along the edge of the exterior
fence. Gold had opted for an entrance point hidden by the delivery entrance gates
which had a labyrinth design of gates and passage ways well hidden by
surrounding brick walls and high dividers. Silver had cutters in her belt
pocket for clipping the fence behind the restaurant in much the same manner as
old World War two soldiers may have done when escaping a prison camp.
They
both had little trouble accessing these entrance points, and before anyone knew
it, they were inside the park and using their best cloak and dagger skills to
skulk around the walls and displays with silent, stealthy intent.
“Silver.... are you in?” Gold asked over
radio.
“Check.
I have achieved the objective.” Silver whispered into her own radio set. “I am
still having a problem with these damn nose filters.... they just aren’t made
for an Asian, I am afraid.”
“Keep
'em in. We can’t assume anything.” Gold re-assured her.
Mac was
beginning to get impatient, his damn green suit was way hot and the internal
heat just seemed to build the longer her wore it. He wanted to rip it off of
his body and throw the whole damned thing away, but his loyalty to Turgesen
held him back.
He felt
the tubes in his leg pocket, tubes no one else knew about and briefly
remembered his instructions from Mr. Turgesen. The tubes were filled with a
special metallic based chemical that had been used a few years ago to defeat a
heroine named “The Gypsy Queen” back on the west coast. They were used for
spraying into the breath of a person who inhaled the chemical, but seemingly
felt no effects. Quimby had prepared the concoction to atomically bind itself
to a person’s inner nasal walls, so that they could be tracked by satellite no
matter where they would go.
The
whole episode was long and drawn out, but it allowed the organization to not
only discover Gypsy Queen’s true identity, but to cause her a string of “bad
luck” by throwing unexplainable difficulties in her path with each step she
took. Her battles with other villains and social deviants became more and more
ludicrous as the bad guys watched in amusement as Gypsy Queen suddenly seemed
more and more inept in battle.
Eventually,
Quimby tired of making the former heroine a laughing stock before her enemies,
and Turgesen pulled the plug on the project, permanently placing a “plug” in
Gypsy’s mouth in order to stop her ability to cast enchantments. De-powered,
she was then disposed of in the usual Turgesen way.
Ken had
pulled Mac aside after their meeting with Quimby and said, “Mac, he’s a little
too obsessed with this one this time. I think he might go rogue on me over
this, so I want you to take Stryke Force out this time... don’t let there be a
third round... like Quimby is expecting.”
He knew
Mr. Turgesen was right, for Quimby himself had asked Mac in a private moment if
he thought Quimby could ever get Gold Stryke for himself. Mac had laid it out
for Quimby as best as he could, telling him that in this life there are some
things you can have.... and some things you can’t.... he would have to wait for
another time... another heroine.. as Mr. Turgesen already had plans for Gold
and her team. He had already made arrangements for their removal ... their
permanent removal.
Quimby
didn’t like this, and he pouted like a spoiled child for quite a few days. Then
all of a sudden the tantrum was over and Quimby was his old self, or so it
would seem. But Mac didn’t trust it.... his intuition told him that Quimby had
solved the situation to his own comfort, and Mr. Turgesen might actually have a
big problem on his hands in the near future.
“Don’t
worry, Mac.” Turgesen told him. “I’ll handle it. I’ll handle it.”
He took
a deep breath as he thought on these things, and looked around the abandoned
park with impatience. I hope you’re right, Mr. Turgesen. He mused to himself.
Suddenly
Mac’s radio beeped in his ear. “Boss.” Peoter whispered. “I got something on
the infra red lens.”
Mac’s
interest shot up. He took a few steps to look out into the park. “Watcha got my
man?
“Damndest
thing.... across the street....” Peoter reported.
“Yeah?”
“I got
a hot body on the roof.... looks like they have a sniper rifle.... I think.”
Mac’s
spine tingled. “That’s it! Damn! These chicks are ballistics trained, too.
Damn!” He spat.
Peoter
used his magnifier to bring the image in closer. He saw what appeared to be a
young woman peering through the site of the gun barrel and moving slightly from
side to side. Instantly he knew what to report.
“She’s
scoping us out, boss. She gonna be drawing beads on us.”
Mac
nodded. “No, shit! Damn smart bitches! See the other two?”
Peoter
scanned the park but saw nothing.
“Negative.
Just the one on the college building roof.”
Mac
decided to begin the evening’s festivities and called two of his men over
radio, “Kajhi.... Yoshiro... I got a bogey on the roof across the street.
Packing a sniper rifle.”
“Yes
sir, we have it.” The small radio augmented voices answered back.
“Peoter,
start some noise. Get her attention on the park.” Mac ordered. “It’s time to
play!”
Peoter
pressed a few buttons on his control panel and the park became alive, part by
part, section by section. Darkness was replaced by bright lights and moving
rides and circus music, long thought dormant by many.
Gold
and Silver froze in their silent hiding positions and for a moment were quite
shocked to see the park systematically coming alive. Silver whispered over the
radio, “Gold?”
“I see
it.” Gold responded, tensing up for anything and everything that might be
coming their way. “Bronze, report.”
“The
whole park is coming alive.... someone knows we’re here.” Bronze reported.
Gold
nodded. “Indeed they do... indeed they do.”
Curiously,
both Gold and Silver noticed the sudden appearance of small, metallic hovering
balls that hummed with the sound of internal gyros. They wondered what the balls
were, but quickly dismissed them in in favor of greater, more immediate
threats.
“Hurry!
Hurry! Hurry!” Shouted an automated carnival barker who stood a good ten feet
tall and waved a hand in the air. His red and white striped suit hearkened back
to a more innocent time. Multiple streams of carnival music at different levels
filled the night air as millions of lights came to life with sparkle and flash
to show the way to the good times to come.
Gold
stood flat against the side of one of the walls of the spinning cups ride,
looking back and forth in anticipation. Silver did the same about fifty yards
away but behind the ball pitch stand.
“Bronze?”
Gold whispered.
“Nothing
yet.” Bronze responded.
“Nothing
over here by the fun booths either.” Added Silver.
Just as
she had said that, there was a buzzing sound from around the corner of the wall
next to her and almost as quickly there was a small phalanx of six or seven
remote control helicopters that came sailing around the bend, they all began
firing bee-bees at Silver with their small, rotating machine gun turrets
attached to their landing skids. Puh-ting! Puh-tang! Went the ammunition as it
ricocheted off of the adjoining wall.
“Aggh!”
Silver grunted. She then ducked out of the way and into the open area in front
of the booth.
“Silver!”
Gold called out with a terse command.
“I’m
under fire..... remote control copters...” She said while rolling and jumping
and spinning out of the way.
Gold
tried to look toward the booths from her position, but her view was blocked.
“No sonics unless you’re in close hand to hand!!!” She ordered. “Don’t get
sucker punched.”
“Hold
your position... I’ve got this!” Silver offered as she pulled three small
shurikens from the pockets of her hidden belt and tossed them the way of the
flying copters. They struck and exploded with more force than necessary as the
toys then ran into each other in a conflagration of flames and then crashed to
the ground. BUDD-DUUUDD-DUUDD-WOOOMPFFFF!
“I got
'em!” Silver reported. More little metal balls silently dodged and darted into
view and then disappeared around a corner. She began to wonder just what role
they played in all this.
Gold
smiled. Then Bronze piped up in the radio. “Gold, I have two enormous things
coming your way.”
Gold
looked around her, listening carefully, she could hear clown laughter somewhere
in the mix of carnival music. “What’s their twenty?” Gold requested, watching
small metal balls hovering just out of reach. They then harmlessly buzzed away.
“45
degrees to your left, coming up fast.... looks like giant ..... balloons.”
Bronze told her while looking through the gun site.
“The
whole park has been rigged!” Gold reported. “Silver where are you?”
Silver
had hardly had time to think as the copters had crashed before her, almost
instantly the ball pitching booth had fired its cannons of baseballs and a few
caught Silver by surprise. TOOTP! TOOPT! TATAT-TAT-TOOPT! Went the sailing
baseballs. She was hit with glancing blows but then dropped to the turf and
rolled to avoid the other two dozen or so that sailed high over her head.
“Confirming
your hypothesis.... I was just fired upon by the booth! But I’m code 4!”
Gold
went around her corner wall and viewed the oncoming ten foot balloons, they
were both clowns with grotesque smiling faces and sporting machine gun looking
arms under their balloon hands.
“Bronze!”
She ordered. “Don’t shoot these things, I got 'em ... they could be filled with
exploding gas.”
“Copy.”
Answered Bronze.
Gold
then somersaulted into view of the on coming balloons, who seemed to be rolling
on hidden wheels beneath their bulbous clown shoed feet. When they sensed her
movement, they opened fire, but not with bullets.... instead the shells
exploded all around Gold in various colorful explosions of paint. PUK-CLAGH!
PUK-CLAGH! PUK-CLAGH!
Gold
heard metallic laughter as small metal balls hovered and then darted away.
Rolling
and tossing in the dirt, under the firing line of the clowns, Gold reached into
her belt for her own throwing knives and then briefly stood and tossed them
forward as she then disappeared behind another wall. The blades rended and tore
the plastic bodies and immediately made deflating sounds as their inner gas
support escaped into the atmosphere.
PPPPUUUTTTTHHHLLLAAAPPPPPPP-TISSSSSSSSssssssss........
Gold
mused to herself: I don’t smell helium, but there is something.... some kind of
gas. She quietly watched from around the side of the building as the balloons
collapsed in a plastic heap.
Bronze
then called out again, “I have three live ones coming your way, Gold. Around
the other side of the building you are next to.”
“Copy.”
Gold responded. She then prepared herself for the on coming live adversary by
placing herself at the center of the wall between the two sides, thus making it
impossible for the men to make a sneak attack. She then fired her sonics at the
ground, creating a cloud of dust at both sides.
DDDDEEEEDDRRRUMMMMBBBUUUUTTT!!!!! The sonics sounded as they dug up the ground.
“Now
you can start firing, Bronze!” She ordered. “But only arms and legs, we don’t
want them killed.”
Again,
quickly moving metal balls hovered into view, and then quickly shot away.
“Copy.”
Replied Bronze as she prepared to draw a bead on one of the men sneaking around
the side of the building.
Silver
had rolled out of the way to avoid the cannon fire of the base balls, only to
have a hidden seesaw trap come springing up out of the Earth with huge spikes
headed for her face. “Aggh!” She grunted again, but then spun and tossed and
somersaulted out of the way.
Instantly,
from out of nowhere four large men in green body suits and full head masks
tacked her from all sides. They all rolled and tossed in the dirt as Silver
punched and kicked her way within the mass of bodies, her wrist sonics working
in tandem with her hand work in order to augment the severity of her punches.
“GAGH!”
“PPOOT!”
“PLAGGHHHH!”
The men grunted with each well placed connection.
Metal
balls spun and hovered above them in the air.
As the
men approaching Gold appeared on one side of the wall, they ran into the cloud
of dust she created and temporarily lost their visual bearing. Bronze beaded
one of them and fired a round into his leg. PIT-YOW!
“AAAAAGGGHHH!!!!!”
The man screamed as he hit the ground. The others were startled and lost their
focus for a second on Gold, which was just enough time for her to appear out of
the cloud of dust, kicking and punching each man off of his feet.
“KAAAIIGGURAAAAA!”
she screamed as she plowed into the men.
“I’m
hit.... I’m shot!!!!” The man screamed into his ear piece as he rolled on the
ground.
Mac
heard his cry and called out to his men, “Kajhi! Yoshi! I need that bogey on
the roof! We’re getting picked off. “
“We’re
almost there, boss!” They replied with a heavy breath as they began scaling the
building on the back side of Bronze’s position.
“AGGGHH!
My knee! My knee!” Called out one of the men wrestling with Silver as his knee
exploded from the sniper round Bronze had fired. Silver didn’t stop to
rubberneck as she took advantage of the other men’s sudden tentative attitude.
She spun her legs beneath them and cut them down as their feet were taken out
from under them. Each one spun and tossed and fell on his head as Silver
performed her maneuver with a loud, “KAAAAiiiiiii!!!!”
“Kajhi!!!!
Yoshi!!!!” Mac called out with a bit more anger as he heard another man go
down.
“Dammit!”
he spat as he headed out of his hidden command position and began to trot out
in to the park to get more involved.
Gold
hit one man in the neck and kicked another in the ribs, then she turned and
grabbed a third man who had newly appeared and pulled him by the shirt as she
ran backwards, ducked and rolled, then tossed the man over her head in a judo
roll.
“GHHHAAAA!”
He yelled as he was tossed in the air by powerful legs. He then landed in a
heap upon the ground with a grunt. BUNPH!
“OOhhhgg!”
He sighed.
Curiously,
Gold quickly pulled three small balls from a pocket and slammed them into the
ground. As the men worked to regain their footing, the balls exploded into dark
clouds and obscured their view. When the clouds quickly dissipated, Gold had
disappeared.
“Mac!
Mac! One man reported into his radio. We got ninja tactics happening here...”
Flying
metal balls circled the area and then quickly disappeared.
Mac
nodded his understanding. “Not surprised. Not surprised. I am on my way!”
Silver
had done the same once the group assaulting her had been tossed all around the
grounds in the immediate area. A cloud of smoke had appeared and Silver had
disappeared before them. They all stood around trying to see where the Asian
dynamo had gone. They tensed and looked about with wide, searching eyes. The
man who had been hit, lay on the ground groaning and holding his exploded knee.
“She’s
gone, boss!” they reported with a bit of fear in their voice. “We lost her!”
“Don’t
worry, boys!” Mac said with bated breath as ran to join the fray. “They won’t
go far!”
Kahji
and Yoshi reached the top of the college building at the opposite side where
Bronze was set up and they silently motioned to each other to quickly and
quietly take her down. Yoshi pulled out a black jack from his fatigue pants
pocket and showed it to Kajhi. Kajhi then nodded and showed Yoshi a strong
knotted fishing net that he had in his back pack for just this type of
situation. Slowly the two men separated to take opposite angles on the sniper.
Two of
the men looking for Silver began to move off, steadily backing their way to a
nearby wall , careful of any surprise attack. One man’s suit exploded on his
upper arm as he was hit with a sniper slug. PITUI!
“Agghhh!”
He screamed and grabbed his arm.
Then
the other man next to him also had his upper arm explode. PITUI! “GHHHAAAAA!!!”
He screamed as he too grabbed hold of his injury.
Silver
had ducked out of the way of their vision for only a few minutes before she
again engaged them, spinning and kicking from out of nowhere.
“KAIIII!!!YOOUUUUUU!!!!” She yelled, tossing small smoke bombs and exploding
shurikens as she approached. The men ignored the projectiles and smoke and
jumped to tackle her as she landed. Three of them did just that as they grabbed
legs and her torso.
“Here’s
something new for you, boys!” She offered. Then she grabbed their backs with a
claw like motion and her finger tips began to quickly glow. From her finger
tips suddenly ran a row of sparks, much like a lit gunpowder trail, which
snapped and sparkled and circled each man’s torso. They then ended in small,
yet powerfully contained explosions. BAD-dah-DOOM!!!!!
“GHAAAA!”
The men screamed as they were tossed into the air.
Floating
metal balls encroached to catch the action and then retreated out of view.
Gold
watched from a hidden position as the men coughed and gagged from the smoke
screen she had left behind. Then one man tried to move away, seemingly to get
aid for the man who had been shot, who still writhed and twisted in pain on the
ground.
She
called out to the man, “Hey! Over here!”
He
looked up and when he saw her waving toward him, he made an angry bee-line for
the heroine. She moved back to disappear behind the building as she saw him
charging, but her heel caught something she felt only slightly. Alarmed, she
ducked and twisted and rolled on the ground as a hidden door on one of the
walls responded to the trip wire being hit and flew open to fire a wall of
darts in her direction. TYOOO-TYOO-TYOO! They passed over her and as the man
charging her appeared from around the wall, he got a body suit full of the
darts instead.
“GHHHAAAA!!!”
Gold
went to sit up from her roll to see what had happened to the man as he had been
hit, but suddenly a rushing wind of weight fell upon her from behind and she
crashed headlong into the wooden wall of another exhibit. BUCK-CRAAASSSSHHH!
“You’re
not going anywhere, bitch!” The voice said as they rolled into the interior of
the amusement ride.
She
grabbed him, and tossed him over her head without even having seen who he was,
and he turned in the air, spun and then landed on his feet like a cat. She
turned and looked up at her assailant. She instantly knew just who the man was.
She remembered quite well and she snarled at him with angry teeth.
“I know
who you are.... you bastard! I know what you did to me!!!!”
Mac
looked her dead in the eyes and said with a nod, “It’s ON!”
Ziiiippppp!
ZZZZoooooopppPPP! Went the metal balls as they flew around the men and women in
combat. Silver pulled a small pistol from her boot at hipside and shot one of
the annoying balls. It exploded and dropped to the ground in a heap of slag.
The other balls all Zzzziiippped! out of range.
One of
the men in the green suits came riding up to Silver from out of nowhere with a
golf cart full of explosives. He jumped from the cart just as he tossed in a
small lighter, the cart blindly made its way toward Silver’s position. She ran
a few fast steps and then jumped forward into a another fun booth where she could
duck behind the wooded barricade. The cart collided with the wood and exploded
in a conflagration of black, orange and red hot death. It lit up the night.
BAWHOOOOOOSSSSSSSHHHHHH!
Silver
avoided the explosion by ducking low, but then anticipated the follow up of
charging men and jumped, then crashed through the back of the kiosk. The kiosk
now erupted in flames and smoke as it caught fire from the golf cart exploding,
and a column of black smoke began to rise toward the sky.
Silver
landed behind the kiosk in a crouch and then had every intent of re-establisig
her attack upon the group of men she had been battling. However, her small
booted ankle was suddenly caught up by a tungsten steel cable noose snare that
had been laid out on the ground like a rabbit trap. It caught the Asian
completely off guard as she was pulled off of her feet by the noose, and a
recoiling “fishing line” type spinning reel pulled the cable that held her foot
up, up into the lights.
“Aggghh!”
She spat. As she was surrounded by the enveloping smoke of the explosion
drifting in her direction from gentle breezes off the east coast. Upside down
and spinning out of control she fired blindly at the cable with her sonic
disrupter, hoping to sever the cable that held her ankle high and out of her
reach. The cable, however, bowed and wobbled but resisted the sonic attack.
Silver spun and dangled and swung back and forth about five feet from the
ground, she bent at the waist trying to reach her ankle while pulling some
razors from her waist belt.
Gold
had been the first to aggressively attack Mac as he moved backwards under the
full force of her brutal, anger filled attack. He blocked and parried with each
thrown fist, kick and spring jump she threw at him. But the double attacks were
too much to handle as he might block a fist but not the simultaneously thrown
kick from her booted foot, and visa versa.
He
steadied himself and tackled her midsection as she tried to advance on him a
second time. They hit the ground turning and punching and kicking, but Mac held
on despite all the pinpoint accurate connections that Gold riddled his body
with. He picked her up and then turned in a twist and threw her against a
nearby wall.
“GHAAA!
She spat as she hit the cement wall with her full body.
Mac
charged her to make another tackle but she hopped over his back like a cat and
kicked him with both feet into the wall behind her. He hit the wall head first.
“Guh-DAHHH!” He screamed and then held his
head in pain.
Bronze
called to Gold over the radio, “Gold, I have lost visual contact....”
Gold,
rushing to her advantage, said quickly, “I am engaged. Assist Silver!” And then
she leaped upwards and came down on Mac’s back with her elbow. BUD-Dow!
“Check.”
Bronze replied. She then turned her sight to Silver’s position to notice the
spinning, warbling heroine, attempting to slice her way free from her snare.
She could see a large group of men circling around Silver’s position, they held
long wooden boards, baseball bats and iron pipes. Her eyes went wide.
“Silver!
You are in code red!” She shouted while lining her sight to the approaching
men.
“Soot
the cable up top! Shoot the cable at the top!” Silver exclaimed.
Bronze
made her adjustments and drew a bead on the top of the light pole where the
cable had been extended from, and then she prepared to fire. Suddenly a
multi-corded fishing net slid quickly over her head and pulled her arms to her
side, ruining her aim.
“Aggh!’ She cried out in shock.
Stunned
by the fact that she was covered in a tight fishing net and was being pulled
backward from her gun, she looked around herself in panic. Unable to pull
herself free as the two men who had sneaked up on her suddenly, and
aggressively appeared, she snarled and cussed.
“Gah!
Who are you???? Get off of me!!!!” She insisted.
Kajhi
held her firmly in a bear hug as she struggled against the ropes and Yoshi
quickly, deftly and silently swung his black jack against the back of her
auburn haired head. CRACK!
Instantly
Bronze went limp in Kajhi’s grip and her head fell forward in silence.
“Boss...”
Yoshi reported. “Object aquired.”
Mac
heard the report of his man, but at the moment couldn’t have had more concern
beyond his current situation. He lay flat o his belly, gripping the ground with
his hands in frustration as Gold sat upon his back with his legs twisted in a
knotted wrestling hold, causing him great pain.
“AGH!”
He groaned, his hands reaching for some way to get the heroine off of his back.
The pain in his knees was beyond what he had ever expected from such a hold.
“Get off me, bitch!” He demanded.
Gold
grimaced and pulled tighter on her hold to cause more pain. The result was
successful as Mac groaned in response. “AAAAGGGGHHHH!!!" He reached back
with all his might, against the natural curve of his spine and grabbed a fist
full of Gold’s shiny brown hair.
She
grunted, “AGGGH!” as her head was pulled backward.
For a
long moment, Mac pulled and Gold pulled, both causing considerable pain to one
another. Gold’s face was red with pain as she was unable to stop his pulling
her hair with great force. After quite few moments, she finally had to release
his legs before he pulled the hair out of her head, and as she did release him,
he swung around with his other fist and clocked her hard in the back of the
head. WHACK!
“GHAAA!”
She screamed as she fell forward from the momentum.
Silver
worked furiously at reaching the snare that held her ankle, but the wobbling
cable gave her no resistance to work against and she missed with her razor,
once, twice and three times. Before she was able to continue, the group of men
with boards, bats and pipes appeared from within the billowing black cloud of
smoke. She gasped and aimed her wrist sonics at the approaching group. The
braces glowed with white intensity and let out an electronic cry as they
connected with two of the approaching men, knocking them backward with a
violent thrusts.
BUZZZZZUUURRRAPPPP!!!
The two
men groaned as they flew backward. “GGGAAARRRR!”
The
other men, however, six in all, had no trouble ignoring the plight of their
comrade and charged Silver as she hung swaying and spinning from the cable.
They swung their bats, pipes and boards with full force as the heroine grunted
and spun helplessly with each offense.
“Take
this, bitch!” They offered as each man took his turn over and over and over
again to bludgeon the body of Silver Force. Pak! Dutt! Pak! Buh-takkk! Crack!
Powt! Dant!
Silver,
overcome with the immense pain of their group attack could only grunt and groan
as they gave her the “royal pinata” treatment. Eventually, after several
minutes, a deftly swung pipe put an end to the assault as it connected with the
back of Silver’s head (BWANGGGGG!) and she instantly went limp and hung
unconscious, and helpless.
A
silver metal ball bounced and jumped nearby, there was a slight cackle of
joyful laughter that could be heard coming from within the metal casing.
The men
took a break, breathing heavily and hurting from the battle, collapsing on the
ground or bending over to place their hands on their knees. “Boss... “ They
reported over the radio. “Object aquired....”
Gold,
rolling and spinning and then placing her hands flat on the ground, kicked up
and backwards, fully expecting her attacker to continue his pursuit. Guessing
correctly, Mac was hit full in the chest with her high heeled boots and her
powerful legs slammed her feet into his torso with explosive results.
“GHaaa!”
He grunted as he spun backwards and landed flat on his back. But he didn’t wait
for another round of sparring and quickly rolled over and bounced backwards
onto two feet.
Gold
had jumped in the air and was coming down full force when he rolled out of the
way and instead of finding herself planted in his chest, she had to land flat
footed upon the concrete ground. This took a few seconds for her to recover
from the momentum and reflex her thighs for the next attack, but it would be
too late. Mac charged and tackled her around the waist sending them both
through the wooden wall of the Tunnel of Love ride. Bucka-kkkaaakktttt!
Wood
splinters filled the air as Gold cried out in surprise, “Oooohhh!” With the
force of Mac’s charge and the plowing through of the wooden wall. They rolled
and spun on the ground, kicking and punching.
She hit
him in the forehead and drew blood from a vicious cut which then leaked freely
with dark red blood flowing down his face and over his shoulder.
“AGGH!”
He groaned and then went into a boxing stance where he jabbed her twice
straight in he mouth, then followed with a quick upper cut to the jaw. PAK! PAK! Spak!
She
wobbled backward with a dizzy look in her eyes under the attack and Mac
perceived a weakness in his opponent he hadn’t counted on. She quickly
recovered and then jumped from a standing position with both feet and one fist
directed at his charge. Her booted feet connected in two different spots on his
chest and she immediately followed with a one-two combination punch which
snapped his head backwards twice, and he dizzily sauntered backwards, stunned
for the moment.
Pressing
her attack, she ducked to the ground and threw her legs under herself with the
intent of clipping Mac off of his feet. But he jumped up at the last moment as
her feet passed beneath him without making their intended connection. He landed
as she tried to regain her balance, and he threw a haymaker to her head that
snapped her head backwards with a wet, ugly sound and caused her to flip over
backwards one, two, three times before landing on her feet in a crouch.
Sensing
his continued attack, she pushed herself up with her powerful legs and jumped
forward. Mac was in full charge by this time and as she lifted from the ground,
he again tackled her around the waist, doubling her in two as her legs and arms
flew forward with the opposite momentum. They then crashed through another wall
(BRAKKK-ATTA-COWWW!), this time one a bit more re-enforced than the wooden one,
and they fell a good 12 feet downward.
Landing
inside of a dimly lit, very narrow cement alleyway, one with a small track on
the ground for delivery vehicles to roll upon, unseen by the general public of
the amusement park, Gold took the brunt of the landing. WHUMPH!
Mac
benefitted from Gold’s finely shaped female form to avoid having to deal with
the forceful landing of a twelve foot drop onto concrete and metal track. He
smiled as he regained his feet while watching Gold writhe and moan upon the
ground. The metal track had bucked right into her spine as she landed and her
head had bounced with an ugly thud upon the cement.
As Mac
rose up to see if the fight was over, Gold suddenly encircled his legs with her
own and then reached up with a closed fist and popped him a good one right in
the nuts.
“OOOOHH!
Bitch!” he shouted.
She got
back to her feet instantly and began buffeting him with punches and kicks,
which he could not avoid, as the hallway was no more than three feet wide and
made the close battle conditions between two cement walls, a very close and
personal matter. PAK! PICK! Kak-krack!
Mac’s
head pitched back and forth under the force of her attack, but then he answered
in the same manner and began to backhand her full in the face with closed
fists, cutting her nose and sending blood splattering across the cement walls.
PAK! SPAK! GuTA--TTAAACK!
She
backed into the wall stunned, and Mac saw his moment in her dazed expression.
He grabbed the heroine by the back of her head with a fist full of hair, and
with his other hand he plowed forceful punch after forceful punch into her
midsection.
PUH!PUH!PUH!
echoed through the chamber as he buried his fist deep into the softness of her
female belly. She could only grunt and flail about helplessly with each punch.
“Guh-OOOOOOOhh!”
“Guh-OOOOOOOhh!” “Guh-OOOOOOOhh!”
Then
Mac threw a powerful uppercut, with everything he had left, in one punch,
connecting with the heroine’s unprotected jaw, which he now suspected might
have some “glass” influence. PRAK-KAKK! echoed through the hallway as her head
snapped backward in an ugly, uncontrolled movement and then slammed into the
wall behind her. It then immediately bounced forward and “butted” Mac straight
in the forehead, which opened another wound which burst open with a quickly
flowing stream of blood.
“GHAAA!!”
he screamed while holding his head.
The
world spun for Mac, and he could see nothing in his vision but red and felt
nothing but the pain of what might be a concussion. He closed his eyes in pain
and staggered around in the low level lighting, waiting for the next salvo from
Gold. But to his surprise, it never came.
He
turned and looked about him with clouded vision and blood streaming from his
head wounds only to see the collapsed body of Gold lying on the narrow cement
floor beneath him. She lightly groaned, moved her legs in small, sleepy motions
and brought up her hand to feel her head as she grimaced in half-sensate agony.
Mac saw
her condition, and despite his now unparralleled respect for the fighters of
Stryke Force 1, he grabbed the zipper at the top of his body suit near his
throat and un-zipped it to his crotch.
Silver
and Bronze had been brought to the center of the Amusement park where there was
a wall filled with advertisements and logos of sponsors who once did business
with the park. Their unconscious bodies where tossed upon the ground at the
wall by the men in the green suits and full head masks who had bested them.
Ropes
were brought forward and each of the heroines had her ankles bound tightly with
double slip not ties. Then the men hurriedly bound their wrists behind their
backs, wrapped rope around their upper bodies tying their forearms tightly to
their sides, and then they wrapped several layers of rope around their knees,
finally knotting them with complex ties. The entire time, the pretty heroines
of Stryke Force 1 slept with their chins resting comfortably on their chests.
Mac
slipped between Gold’s thighs and held her upper body like a lover. She felt
his presence and slightly opened her eyes in a dazed state of confusion. She
could clearly feel the force of the man below her waist as he lay atop her,
which was now completely nude as Mac had removed her shorts, shield, and laytex
panties.
With
his face close to hers, she could smell his breath, feel his cheek as it
brushed hers. “NO... no.... don’t...” She whispered into his ear.
“Yes....
oh, yes.... “ He whispered closely into her own ear. His tone was dark and low
and deep.
“Not
... right... you... can’t...”
“Oh,
yes... yes I can.... “
“Pay
for this....”
“No....
no, I don’t think so....”
“Yes!”
“No,
no....”
“Heroine.....
heroine.... you mustn’t....”
“SHHH.....shhhh....”
He directed as he told her to stop her protesting.
“No!”
“Yes...
shhhhhhh.....shhhhhh....” He whispered while adjusting his hips.
She
went quiet for a moment, as if in response to his direction, and then broke the
silence as he entered her with a full on thrust. “OOOMOMKMMMMMGGGHHHHOOOOOHHH!”
She moaned loudly while arching her back as he led her in place while
penetrating her sex.
The men
outside, who had finished binding and rendering the rest of Stryke Force 1 into
a hapless state, could hear the sounds of Mac grinding himself into Gold’s
temple of virtue and they looked at each other with questioning eyes.
“Uh...
Boss....” One of the men asked into his mask microphone. “Are you ... okay?”
Mac
grunted between thrusts, as Gold writhed and gasped beneath his animal
dominance of her body. Mac responded to his men, “Ugh! .... you ....ass....
holes..... can UGH! turn off the ...... UGH! Speakers...... grunnnn.... for
this UGH! next part...... jack holes!” His voice was full of outrage and
disgust as he took umbrage at the prospect of having to instruct his men in
their actions on this matter.
The other henchmen could hear Mac breathing
heavily and grunting as he spoke. They could also hear Gold moaning in orgasm
right next to Mac’s microphone in his mask. They looked at each other and
nodded silently. They each turned off their mic and speakers in their own
balaclava’s and then as a group they began to unzipp the fly in their
respective suits.
Once
they had massaged their manhood into full hardness, they crouched before
Lizzelle and Samantha, one by one, taking the heroines chins in their hands and
pushing the bulbous heads of their manhood into their hot, young mouths.
Discombobulated
and groggy, both girls groaned and slightly opened their eyes as their mouths
were used in a licentious and illegal way. As each man came he deposited more
of the chemically altered seed from his body into the belly of each girl. Much
to their surprise, as they each ran a train on the girls, the girls became more
and more alive. Their faces changed with an attentive, hungry desired look.
Before
they were all done, each girl had a bemused, deeply satisfied look upon her
face and a chin and chest full of copious amounts of male sperm. Their bodices
were then pulled down, causing their nicely shaped, well rounded breasts to
pour out of their costumes and over the tops of their clothing. The jacket
shoulders were then pushed backwards, also revealing their sexy, well formed
shoulders.
The men
then, almost in a clinical fashion, massaged the semen into each girl’s swollen
breasts as she cooed and “ahh-ed” at the slick, creamy feeling. The girl’s
mouths showed little strands of white-ish cum like strains of spit between
their gums and tongues as they each moaned and murmured under the men’s touch.
The
hallway where Faith and Mac had fallen was dimly lit. It had a few sparsely
spaced, cage covered low level lights placed upon one wall. They hummed in low
level “buzzing” which, until today, had been the apex of their daily, hidden
existence. Gold sat back against Mac’s chest in the stillness of the hallway.
Her head was back and resting against his shoulder, her hands loose and flaccid
at her sides. She struggled mightily to breathe.
Mac sat
behind her, a rubber insulated cable from the nearby wall had been ripped out
of its place and twined around his wrists. He had taken the cable and produced
a slip knot configuration which he then slipped around Faith’s muscled throat.
With each hand he had tightened and pulled the two ends of the cable tightly
enough to cut off her air, but not tightly enough to cause her to slip into
unconsciousness. She groaned and choked as he pulled on the cable, but was
unable to offer any other resistance.
He
whispered in her ear with bared teeth. “This is what happens..... this is how
it goes....” He began as he wrapped the cable around his fist to produce a
better grip. “No matter how good you are..... now matter how much you work.....
train.... prepare..... there is always someone who will be better than you.” He
then tightened the cord again.
“EEEnnnGGGNN!”
She whimpered helplessly.
Mac
then continued. “You had a good run.... yes, you did.... but you lost,
baby....”
“GGrrrnnaaahh....”
She weakly protested.
“Yes,
you did. And I am the man who is proud to have beaten you... not just once....
but twice now.”
He
placed his hand on her naked, wet and sloppy sex, and she groaned from its
soreness. His fingers ran over her distended lips and removed some of his manly
essence from its deposited place. He then gently ran his wet fingers over her
lips. She gently hummed her disapproval, (MMmmm!) but never lifted a hand to
stop him. He reached down and touched her private place once again.
He
whispered in her ear in low, soothing tones, “Put your hand on mine. Show me
how you pleasure yourself. How you like it.” She made a little face of
disapproval, but then slowly followed his command. Together, they stroked her
vaginal lips for quite a few minutes.
The
lights in the hallway, all the way down to the next amusement ride, hummed and
buzzed in the silence. Faith groaned weakly several more times disturbing the
silence with a soft, gentle nudge.
The
masked men outside brought forward a black back pack that had been supplied by
Quimby. In the back pack were several items, the pig snout and pig ears that he
had requested to be placed upon them once they had been tamed and broken.
Each
sleepy eyed, tightly bound girl, was approached and a string was pulled, a
snout placed upon her nose and the string pulled around her head. Then the men
took the head bands and placed them on the tops of the girl’s heads, which then
made them appear to have pig’s ears. The heroines may have protested these
actions, but they were too busy sleepily rolling the semen around in their
mouths and enjoying what seemed to be pure ambrosia to their senses.
Mac
stood behind Faith, slowly pulling her shorts back up her berthing hips until
he pulled them a bit too tightly at the apex of her loins and then gave her a
slight wedgie. She flinched and moaned slightly. He then grabbed her wrists and
pulled them behind her back. Taking hanging ends of the rubber covered cable,
he then pulled them tightly and bound her wrists together. She groaned and made
little sounds of protest, but never said a word as she patiently waited for him
to render her helpless.
“The
noose around your neck is a slip knot....” He told her as he went about his
work unrestricted. “If you try to pull free of your wrist ties, you will
strangle yourself.”
He then
pulled the knot tight and asked, “Understand?”
She
grunted and then quietly nodded her understanding.
“Now,
march.” He instructed as he slapped her on the buttocks. Faith, Gold Stryke,
began to move forward as he lead her out of the hallway, past the silently
buzzing lights. Their heels and souls were the only sound each of them made.
The men
turned and saw their boss coming from around the amusement rides, with his
defeated heroine bound and marching before him. They silently smiled under the
masks they wore. Mac walked right past them, headed for the place where the
other two beaten crime figthers had been deposited and tied up, then injected
with chemically altered semen for the second time. He pushed Gold Stryke
forward and into the wall at the empty space between the two girls. She hit the
wall with a grunt. He then spun her around to face him.
He
placed his hands around her throat and began to choke her. Her face began to
turn red, and her eyes watched him with hate. “Admit it.” He demanded. “You
liked it when I fucked you.”
Choking
and struggling for air, she met his wild, feral eyes with her own and tried not
to respond. But he only insisted more, “Admit it.” He demanded again,
tightening his grip.
With
gritted teeth she eeked out, “Y-yes....yes....”
He let
her go with a satisfied “humph!” sound and then ordered her, “Sit your ass
down!”
Gold
watched him with disgusted, angry eyes but slid down the wall as she was told
and sat down next to her team mates. She watched him and his men with a
broiling upset in her deepest soul as they high fived and congratulated Mac on
his victory. He then returned to her with a pig snout and ears which he then
placed upon her as his men had done to her team. Mac then pulled her breasts
out of her bodice as well, and pushed down the jacket shoulders of her outfit,
too.
He
stepped back and admired his handiwork, bloodied head and body not
withstanding. “This isn’t the way I would have done it.” He told the silent
hero. “But I am not the only one involved in bringing you down.”
A sign
was brought forward and placed on Gold’s lap. It read: We are Stryke Force 1,
little suckling piggies who enjoy sucking cock.
Quimby’s
cameras then hovered around the trio, taking a multitude of photos of their
ridiculous condition in preparation for the special website that would go
public, and reveal to the world what had happened to them this night. The night
of their second defeat.
In his
lab, Quimby laughed and giggled like a madman as he watched Mac finalize the
defeat of Stryke Force 1. He especially enjoyed the humiliation of Gold Stryke,
whom he held secret hopes for becoming his private play thing.
“YES!YES!YES!”
He shouted to himself and raised his arms in victory as though his football
team had just won the championship. “Now is the time for the planning of phase
three!” He chuckled. He pressed another button on a remote and a view screen
changed to a remote location inside of one of the warehouses on Fisherman’s
Warf. A door slid away and revealed a silent army of twenty large androids that
Quimby had secretly built without Turgesen’s knowledge. They were nine feet
tall, and made of titanium steel. In their inner workings were the makings of a
dangerous weapon of mass destruction.
“HHHeeeeeehehehehehehe!”
Quimby giggled. “Soon, my little babies! Very soon, you will bring my Gold
Stryke to me!!!!!”
Mac
reached into his pocket, which was just above the knee of his military fatigue
pants, and he retrieved the small spray bottles that Mr. Turgesen had given
him. He leaned into Silver Stryke and sprayed the small amount of liquid into
her reserved, submissive face. She inhaled and gasped a bit, and then went
quietly to sleep.
Mac
then moved over to Bronze Stryke and kneeled down next to her. She watched him
with half closed, defeated eyes. He grabbed her chin and turned her pretty, pig
snouted face toward him. With no words, he smoked out the red headed beauty as
she inhaled the chemical from the past defeat of a heroine who had been just as
she was. Her large, cat like green eyes, went large and then silently closed in
defeat. Her head lulled to the side.
“And
this one is for you.” He told Faith, as he straddled her while she sat defeated
between her comrades. He pulled her chin up to meet his eyes and she almost
spoke something to him, but then went silent. He brought up the small bottle
and sprayed its contents into her face. She gasped and inhaled reflexively. He
watched her quietly as her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Mr.
Turgesen 2; stupid heroines ...... nothing.” He told his men.
Mac
stood and looked around him and his men at the destruction the battle had
caused. “Anyone want to put out that fire?” He asked the men as the fun kiosk
continued to snap and crackle with flames.
*******
Late
October was Faith’s favorite time of year. The coolness of autumn was in full
force, gently breezing away the dog days of heated summer, which was lasting a
little longer beyond the early days of September with each passing year. In the
late afternoons, the sun hung in the sky at just such a position and the light
had just such a color and angle, that it seemed golden next to the long shadows
that stretched from the trees, light poles and buildings of Capitol City.
Leaves in those trees were also changing into a plethora of browns, reds and golds
which brought an artistic element to the streets and the country side that
hearkened a message of the excitement of a new winter season to come, and the
end of bright, sunny days.
Faith,
Lizelle and Samantha all stepped out of the front entrance of the Federal
Building where the headquarters of the Mayor’s crime task force was located.
Faith wore her usual business day attire, with a light jacket to keep the
sporadic chill of the approaching winter months at bay. Lizzelle and Samantha
had also dressed up a bit for their meeting with the director. As they stepped
out onto the sidewalk, they wore stunned facial expressions that spoke volumes
about the results of their last meeting which they had just attended.
They
stood quietly outside the doors as other persons came and went with nary a
sound, nary a comment toward them. Faith looked out over the park across from
the building and regarded the various colored autumn trees. A breeze, now about
68 degrees cool, and just perfect for this time of year, blew past her lovely
face and several strands of hair wafted over her eyes and cheeks. She took a
deep breath, but knew little of what to say to her team.
Samantha
was first to speak up. “So.... what do we do now? Are we finished?..... Did the
bad guys really win this time?” She asked openly, regarding the park herself,
waiting for some kind of answer from anyone in earshot.
Lizzelle
moved over to Faith and put her hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.
Those bastards didn’t really have to post those disgusting photographs on the
internet. They’re sadistic assholes!”
Faith
shook her head lightly. “I wish it mattered..... I really do.... but the bottom
line is that we’re fired..... out of our government jobs.....”
“I wish
I had an answer for how we could all continue on, Faith..... “ Samantha added.
“We’ve
been complicit in causing the organization a great deal of embarrassment....
they can’t keep us.... we would have to be replaced anyway.....it’s all
public.....” Faith said while shuffling her feet and feeling the cool breeze on
her face.
Lizzelle
sighed. “The only upside seems to be that our private lives are relatively
untouched.”
Samantha
made a snorting sound. “Don’t be a fool, Lizzelle. They are keeping us alive
for another round of humiliation. They enjoy our distress. They are toying with
us.....”
Faith
nodded. “She’s right. We should all be dead. But we’re not.... and they are
just having fun at our expense.”
Lizzelle
grunted. “Do we have to be vigilantes now to stop them?”
“UUGGGhh!”
Samantha groaned.
Faith
responded, “Yes.... Stryke Force as we know it.... is over with. We would have
to re-invent ourselves..... go after them without government support.... but
it’s a waste of time if we can’t figure a way to stop them..... and
truthfully.... it would appear we cannot.”
“You’re
not giving up?”
“No........
just being realistic.” Faith told her. “Both of you go home. Get some rest and
try to recover from all this. We’ll meet again soon and talk about the future.....
we’ll be okay..... I promise.”
Samantha
turned to Faith and said “I cannot go home... my shame is too great.... I am a
whore.. a loser.... on the
internet....I have taken a room in an extended stay hotel.”
Faith
nodded, she understood about Samantha’s grandfather. “Call me on your cell....
let me know where you are.”
Samantha
hugged Faith like a sister and almost began to cry. Lizzelle joined them in a
trio hug and tried to console Faith by rubbing her back gently. They stood that
way silently for a long moment before disbanding and going their separate ways.
When they did, they cast long shadows in the late afternoon light that darted
in different directions across the sidewalk and street.
*******
Two
weeks passed and Stryke Force 1 had become a laughing stock to the local
citizens of Captiol City who, despite five years of protection from the group,
took a derisive attitude toward them in light of the “suckling piggies” and
pornographic photos that had been posted on the internet, and would exist
forever, somewhere in the electronic atmosphere. None of the former members
could go anywhere, even within their small neighborhood communities, without
being reminded of their public humiliation.
Lizzelle
had worked hard to try and cleanse her system on her own. Flushes and colonics
had filled her days when she had not been able to report to her usual day work.
Fortunately, “female problems” worked well with her employers when she tried to
explain her frequent missed work days. She knew she would have to face Faith
again, and Samantha as well, but none of the group had been in touch just yet,
and she knew in her heart and soul that the cut had been too deep for them all.
She knew that only time would heal the wounds they suffered, ..... and time may
be a very, very long stretch.
On
Friday, after several weeks of spending her days alone, unable to face ANYONE,
she went down to the local holistic center where she had been receiving her
colonic treatments. The attending doctor, Mai Ling, was very good and sensitive
in her job. She had been an holistic healer for almost ten years now, and
really knew her stuff.
Lizzelle
arrived about three in the afternoon for her treatment for flushing her system.
When she got there, there was another girl at the desk ready to assist with the
treatments.
“Where’s
Mai Ling?” She asked the cute, younger assistant.
The
young Asian girl regarded Lizzelle with dark, almond eyes that rested in a face
that was so angular, it almost seemed alien. “She has taken a three day weekend
to go and see her folks.” The girl, whose name was Akemi, responded. “I am most
capable of assisting with your treatment today.”
“Oh, of
course.” Lizzelle assured her. “I was only asking because we have gotten to
know each other so well.”
“Please
to come with me.” The young girl directed Lizzelle as they both went into the
rear of the offices where the colonic beds were located. Akemi assisted
Lizzelle with the removal of her shoes, slacks and panties. She then allowed
Lizzelle to lie back upon the treatment bed and then turned on some new age
solo piano music to help her to relax. Lizzelle rested back and began to feel
quite comfortable as the music filled her head with beautiful images.
“MMmmmm.”
Lizzelle murmured. “I so love this place. Am I hearing seagulls in the
background of that music?”
Akemi
chuckled. “Oh, yes, I believe so.” She then completed the application of the
lubrication on the rectal water tube.
“Ready
now?” Akemi asked her.
“Oh,
yes.”
Akemi
then parted Lizzelle’s luscious thighs and placed her feet in the stirrups so
that she could relax as the tube was applied. She then inserted the long
plastic tube into Lizzelle’s rectum slowly and comfortably.
“Oh...
you do that very nicely.....” Lizzelle told her as the tube entered her without
any discomfort.
Then
Akemi started up the water machine that would pump purified water into her
lower intestines with the purpose of removing the built up fecal matter and old
deposits of toxins and parasites that can stay with a person for most of their
lives if not dealt with early and often.
GGGGuuDDDssshhGGGGGuuuDDDDsssshhh.
Went the machine as the water was jetted up into her body. Immediately she
began to defecate and lose the fecal lining that had built up over the week.
“Now,
you just relax and I will be in the outer office if you need anything. You just
hit the call button.”
“I
will, thank you so much, Akemi.”
Lizzelle
was then left alone to listen to beautiful music and also to detoxify. She
watched the clouds on the horizon through the large picture window of the
treatment room and reminded herself that the rainy season was almost upon
Captiol City.
A man
wearing a balaclava and military fatigues stepped into view above Lizzelle’s head
and with one single brusk motion, pulled several heavy chains across her
breasts and then buckled them below the table.
Another
man, dressed the same, tackled her midsection and wrapped chains around her
hips and secured her to the table there as well. Lizzelle opened her eyes with
a start and began to fight to free herself the moment the men attacked.
“Hey!
What the hell!!!!! What are you doing????? Aggghh!” She spat as she struggled
against the surprise chaining of her body that the men had performed. When they
were done, she could hardly move as her arms were chained to the side of the
table, her back pressed against the bed and her hips held in place from being
able to be moved. This meant that the nozzle from the colonic bed was also
impossible to remove from its wedged station within her lower gut.
The
first man then appeared again and had a big fluffy rag in his hands which he
twirled and then shoved into the heroine’s mouth. He then tied it behind her
head.
“HELP!!!!!Akemi!!!!”
She called out to the lab assistant. “CALL THE PO--MMMFFFFFF!!!!!!”
She
tossed and struggled back and forth trying to free herself. “MMMGGGFFF!!!
MMMFFF!!!” She muffled out in anger.
She
watched them with angry eyes and a reddened face as they moved about the room.
Trying to topple the table she shifted right and left with a mighty force, but
the table wouldn’t move.
One of
the men put his hand on her shoulder and whispered. “We bolted the table to the
floor, that won’t work.”
The
other man then stepped forward with a bottle of liquid that looked for all the
world as if it were strawberry milk. He then opened the bottle, despite the
angry red head’s struggles and muffled protests and then began to empty the
contents into the water supply of the bed, down between her feet. When Lizzelle
saw that, she immediately knew it was bad news and began to scream.
“AAAWWWWWW!!!!
NNNAAAWWW!!! OOOUUUUU!!!NNOOOOOOO!!!!” She tried to warn through her gag. But
the men ignored her pleas as they emptied the contents of the bottle into the
bath.
Once
they were done, they calmly walked out of the room and closed the door.
Lizzelle looked down between her legs as much as her visual position would
allow and twisted her hips and flailed her legs in an attempt to dislodge the
nozzell from her rectum, but it was no use as she could not gain the movement
to slide away from the tube buried deep within her.
“AAAAAHHHH!!!!
HHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEPPPP!” She screamed over and over. But no one came to her
aid. When the pink liquid began to show in the tube and was being injected into
her body, she frantically twisted and danced and pulled against the chains with
all her might. But it was no use.
In the
outer office, Akemi made hot tea for the men and also served them biscuits from
the healthy food locker. They made room on the desk so that they could turn on
the big screen TV above on the office wall. They watched a cable sports show
and Akemi stood by serving them.
The
inner room, where the colonic bed was, was a rumble and tumble of noise as
Lizzelle tried to free herself from her bondage. She screamed and bucked on the
table and disturbed the men’s enjoyment of the sports show, and their afternoon
tea. They turned up the TV to blot out the noise.
“That
team isn’t going anywhere this year.” One man said.
The
other man nodded. “You just watch, that coach has a lot going on.... he’ll make
a winner.”
There
was louder screaming and bumping noises from the inner room and they both
looked toward the door with annoyed expressions under their masks.
“That
is one noisy bitch!” One man complained.
The
other agreed. “Yeah, but let her get it all out..... be over soon.”
After
about twenty minutes Lizzelle’s screams and protests had become little more
than mewling and whispering. “.....nnnnoooooo.......nnnooooooo....... can’t
beeeeeee....... can’t end....... nooooo......” She murmured as she rolled her
head back and forth in the lonely room, the approaching clouds her only
witness.
When
the sports show had ended, the men noticed that the noise had ceased from the
other side of the door. They looked at each other with questioning eyes. Then
they nodded to Akemi who stood close by. She nodded and then entered the
colonic room. The men waited, drank some more tea and had another biscuit.
Akemi
then re-entered the outer office and closed the door behind her. She nodded to
the men that it was all over. They finished their tea and then removed their
masks. They then rose and left the clinic, turning off the lights and locking
the door behind them.
*******
Silver
never let herself do anything without formulating more than one reason to take
action. The shame of her defeat, the second within a month, was the first, but
her blatant distrust of the enemy was another. She knew that this new enemy had
raised the bar on their entire organization and was quite capable of many
things once thought impossible. Shame was a good reason to go into hiding, but
protecting her family was just as important.
Therefore,
she rented a room in an extend stay hotel on the far east side of town, far
away from the mansion home of her family. She dressed down, as though she were
dirt poor and took the bus if she needed to run errands. The spartan existence
was also good for her inner soul, as it forced her to struggle just to live. It
cleansed her inner torture and re-invented her private life in order to make
her more invisible, safe from harm. Or so she believed.
Out on
highway 90 there was a road leading into town called Venture road, it had a
smattering of road side hotels, gas stations and a few grave yards. Silver’s
bus route would end two blocks down from her hotel. She would go and get her
groceries and have to walk them to the hotel, past a rather lovely graveyard
which had a circular road that ran around the entire piece of land. No one knew
her there, and no one bothered to ask. She stayed in her room, paid her rent,
and laid low from dangerous eyes.
At the
end of the week she had taken the bus to the grocery and then back and was making
her way down Venture road with several bags in her arms. On the road side was a
garbage truck, the kind she always saw, which had stopped about twenty feet
before the entrance to the hotel. Standing beside the truck were two men
dressed in hard hats, reflective vests and drab green jumper suits for the job
of sanitation engineers. Silver, Samantha Trang, walked passed the men with
nary a moment’s thought as she made her way to the hotel.
When
she passed the men, one of them reached into his reflective vest and produced a
small dart gun. He then casually fired at Silver, hitting her in the neck. She
immediately dropped her groceries and grabbed her throat, then pulled the dart
out from her neck. The drugs from the dart instantly made her see tipple and
the two men converged on her as she wobbled and fell on the side walk.
Quickly
picking up the girl, whose eyes were now spinning in her head, they brought her
to the back of the garbage truck and tossed her into the back, covering her up
with bags, papers and boxes. They then re-entered the truck and pulled away
from the road. The truck then entered the nearby graveyard and found a quiet
place to stop and not look too conspicuous. Traffic out on Venture road was
sparse and they could park the truck in such a way that the back end was facing
away from the road.
Taking
some metal flexible cables from the back of the truck they pulled the sleeping
heroine from the trash and layed her in the grass, where they then wrapped her
tightly in the metal cables. They then gagged her with a big, fluffy rag and
wrapped her body in multiple layers of newspaper. They pushed her deep into the
garbage contained in the rear of the truck and then left the graveyard.
Andrew
had worked at the incinerator complex for almost ten years now, he knew the
business back and forth. Little ever happened there that was out of the usual
dump and burn, dump and burn. Today a trash truck that he had never seen before
came pulling into the yard and it made him a bit curious to see it. The two
fellas who drove the truck stepped out of the cab and greeted him.
“How
are you fellas today?” Andrew asked them.
“Oh,
we’re great. We have a job for ya from the local demo they are doing down on
Stokes and Winston. Lotta boxes, paper and stuff that can’t be recycled. It’s
all tainted....”
Andrew
nodded. “Okay, well let me take a look at the manifest.” He then went back into
the small office of the metal shed he had occupied for nearly ten years and
retrieved his clip board.
“Wha’d you
say the name on the order was?” He asked them.
“Trang.
Samantha Trang. I think she’s one of the formen on the job.” One of the men
told him.
Andrew
looked and found the name. “Oh, I see it. Okay. Yep, you fellas are good. Just
drive up to the port.” He said pointing to the incinerator dumper entrance
about fifty yards away. “And I will crank her up for ya.”
The
brakes hissed and squeeked as they started their way toward the fiery garbage
eliminator. The truck rumbled and swayed as it reversed itself and began to
back up toward the brick opening. Andrew walked up to the front of the truck
giving hand signals and shouts to the driver as to how best to back the truck
into port.
Inside
the mountain of garbage, Samantha began to awaken with an increasing feeling of
alarm. She was somewhere dark, covered with smelly, stinking garbage and she
couldn’t move her arms or her legs. There also was something tied around her
head and stuck in her mouth.
“NNNGGGGG!”
She grunted as she pulled and pushed on her bindings. “HHheeeennngggkkk!” She
called out but could only manage gurgled noise. “HEEEEEEENNNGGKKK” She
screamed, but her voice couldn’t be heard over the noisy operations of the
truck.
Andrew
told them, “Okay, you got it,” as they pulled up to the incinerator opening.
Then one of the men hit a button on a console and the truck rear began to rise
in preparation for dumping its ton of trash into the fiery furnace.
Samantha
could feel the increasingly smothering liquid heat as the truck rear rose and
began to pitch. “NNNNAAAWWW! NNNAAAWWW!” She screamed, tossing her hair and
futilely trying to roll around in the garbage like a great worm as she
attempted to escape the rapidly encroaching, searing heat that was so intense
that it grabbed her heart in abject panic.
“NNAAAAWWWW!!!NNNAAAAWWWW!”
She screamed again and again.
The
rear of the truck rose and rose until it had reached a stopping point and all
of the interior garbage had emptied and fallen into the flames. A column of
smoke rose high and into the sky as the trash was turned to ash. Andrew told
the men with hand signals that he believed they had gotten all of it. The truck
then lowered the rear lift and pulled about ten feet away from the dangerous
heat.
Andrew
took a look inside the back of the truck to confirm that it had emptied itself
and ran around to the front cab. “You got it. Looked like a pretty good haul
you had there, too.” He told the driver.
“We had
built it up all day yesterday... couldn’t get here in time before you closed.”
“Come
on by anytime.” Andrew told them.
The men
gave him a salute and pulled away and left the yard.
“Nice
fellas.” Said Andrew while checking them off of his manifest.
And the
column of smoke from the incinerator wafted up from the smoke stack for another
hour or so as the incinerator consumed its first contents of the day.
*******
Large,
heavy clouds were splotched across the late afternoon sky. Rain was soon to
come, along with the changing tone of the weather. Faith knelt in her garden
digging and planting away, happy that soon her babies would have all the
nourishment they needed from mother nature. She wore dark blue capri pants that
hugged her figure and allowed her the full freedom of movement she required to
work in the garden. One her feet: regular flip flops for around the house work
time. One her head: she had the usual bandanna that pulled her hair backwards
and was tied in the back.
She
wore a long sleeve, button down blouse that had the sleeves rolled up on her
arms all the way to her elbows. The bottom half of the shirt was rolled up as
well and the ends were tied together just below her bra-less breasts. The
cooling air of the approaching evening made her “eraser head” nipples just a
little hard, just a little sensitive and when they rubbed against her shirt as
she moved, she privately enjoyed the small amount of pleasure.
It was
all the pleasure she could allow herself these days as she furiously worked to
set aside the disaster that the lives of Stryke Force 1 had quickly become ever
since they had come up against the “brick wall” of Mr. Ken Turgesen’s
operation. It had been two weeks now since their glaring, humiliating and all
too public defeat had hit the internet and also found its way to her past employers.
She had
money, but what she would do for work now, was still up in the air. She also
had still not spoken to Lizzelle or Samantha about any possible future plans.
Thinking about the future of Ken Turgesen loosed upon Capitol City, was a
thought she constantly pushed aside and into the back of her mind. But the
thought rarely stayed there for long.
The
increasingly cooler breeze came rushing through the plants and trees of her
backyard and made a calming “rushing” sound. It blew little strands of hair
into her eyes and she removed a gardening glove which she wore on both hands,
and brushed back the hair with the back of her hand. She looked around her
garden as it flowed and pitched with the slightly forceful breeze. The garden
was quite the beautiful monument to her years of work on it, and she at least
could be satisfied about that while suffering the dark pain in her soul.
The
back screen door of her house casually swung open, and into the garden walked
the six foot two figure of Mac Jefferson. He was clean shaven and had a small
earring on one lobe. He wore a very expensive, black pin stripe suit with a
black shirt and a gold tie. Over the suit he wore a tan trench coat like an old
school detective. He calmly walked right up to where Faith was kneeling in the
garden.
When
she saw him, knowing that no one was at home with her at the time, she was
trapped momentarily between action and panic, as seeing this man walk from
within her house and into her private garden was the absolute last thing she
had ever expected. She rose from her spot as he approached her, with a look of
surprise and confusion that she tried to keep in check. Then, all of a sudden,
she could sense there were other men behind her, closing in on her position.
She surmised that they must have scaled the cement wall that surrounded the
entire back of the house.
On her
bare midrift, and her face, she could feel little small sprinkles in the breeze
as the rain began to fall from the darkened clouds in the sky. A small metal ball,
with an iris in its center silently peeked over the cement wall.
With
frozen eyes on Mac and a choke in her throat she forced out, “Wh-who are you
men??? What are you doing here?” She then removed her gardening gloves
completely and tried to get ready for anything. She knew the men had surrounded
her, but turned and quickly surveyed them anyway just to keep things like
secret identities as safe as she could.
Mac
walked up to her and shook his head, “No, no, no....” He told her as he reached
up for her bandana. “Don’t lie, Faith. The time for lying is past.” With that
he pushed the bandanna off of her head and it fell to the ground at her feet.
When he did that, an electric charge ran through her body that she found hard
to deny.
With
her shiny brown hair falling to the sides of her face, Mac held her head with
both hands and pressed his mouth to hers in a passionate kiss. The kiss
confirmed to her whom he was beyond a shadow of a doubt, and the fact that he
had spoken to her by her first name, had made a small depressed storm begin to
build within her. He knew who she was. He was here surrounding her with his
men. She was defenseless.
Her
lips made a little pulling gesture as he pulled back from the kiss and it left
her mouth slightly open and hungry looking. She watched him with a mixture of
alarmed and lustful eyes. He said to her, taking her by the hand as though he
were an old friend or lover, “C’mon. I want you to come with me.” Then he
turned and walked casually with her into the house. His men, still wearing
their balaclavas, followed right behind them.
He lead
her to the luxurious couch in the living room, where she and Aaron had spent
many a happy weekend night watching movies or enjoying a sports event on the
television. He directed her to take a seat and as she did he slipped in beside
her, placing his arm around her back and hugging her in close. Her face was
only inches from his own as he gave directions to his men to begin whatever
instructions they had planned at this point. Each man unrolled a large black,
duffel-bag which they had carried under their arms and then took off toward
different rooms within Faith’s home.
She
watched him silently, with tensely concerned eyes. He turned to her face and
forced his mouth on to her own in a passionate kiss. He began groping her
swollen, stimulated breasts, as though they belonged to him, her firmly rounded
buttocks, as though they belonged to him, and cruelly used her mouth, as though
it belonged to him.
Faith
could only murmur and mewl helplessly as he fondled and groped her at will. To
her chagrin, her sex became a flame of fire and began frothing like a geyser at
his forceful administrations. Deep within her person, she had a dark contrast
of shameful self recrimination mixed with a rapidly exploding sexual desire.
She
could hear the men rifling through her house, emptying the silverware in the
kitchen, taking jewelry from her bedroom, and opening drawers in every room as
they filled their sacks with her personal valuables. The entire time Mac forced
his sexual will upon her and she could only find a decision within herself for
full compliance to his needs. His tongue was a hot poker in her mouth and his
forceful, kneading hands on her yielding flesh sent waves of pleasure through
her needy body.
His men
smiled as they watched Mac make short work of the heroine on her own couch.
They told him before hand, as they arrived to pick up Gold Stryke and bring her
to Mr. Turgesen himself, that Mac must be cautious and wear his balaclava in
order to protect his identity. But he had assured them that he was about to
give a lesson in how one owns a woman, and he would have nothing to worry
about. From the way he manhandled the former beauty queen and crime fighter,
his men felt a special added assurance in Mac’s ability to lead them in the
future.
Outside,
there was heat thunder and a rushing wind that began bringing the rapidly
approaching storm. Another small, metal ball with a camera lense came
zzzziiiiippppp-ing down toward the house from out of the approaching storm
clouds.
After
long moments of Mac’s grinding and fondling and lighting an explosion of desire
deep within Faith’s breast, one of his men suddenly appeared beside them.
“Boss?” The masked man quietly asked.
Mac
pulled his tongue from Faith’s pulping, wet mouth and without letting her go
from behind her back, he replied, “Yeah..... watcha got?”
Her
face was inches from his as she watched him with sleepy, adoring eyes. Her
cheeks were flushed with desire and slickly wet from the mix of their saliva.
The man
produced a box, not unlike a metal safety deposit box, with a combination lock
on the front center. “It’s a box we found in her closet. Hidden pretty well,
must be important.” He told Mac.
Mac
turned to her and said, “Open it.”
She
looked into his eyes, which made her slightly cross her own due to his close
proximity, searching for some sort of reprieve from the man, some sort of
mercy. She knew what the box contained, and what it meant for her father’s
retirement age, and she hesitated.
He took
her wrist gently, the one on the hand which was lying on his chest, and he
admonished her again with a slightly casual manner that belied the truth of the
situation. “Go on, open it.” He said nodding.
She
pressed her lips tightly together and wanted to tell him to go to hell and
leave the money she had saved for her father alone. But instead, she reached up
and turned the combination nob three times, opening the metal box. She then
settled back again against his shoulder and placed her hand back upon his
chest. She said nothing.
The man
looked inside and saw two stacks of thousand dollar bills, which he surmised
must be about ten thousand dollars. “Yep,” Mac agreed. “Put that in a special
bag for ME. I am going to make a trip to Vegas this Christmas.”
“Yes,
sir.” The man replied and moved off to follow directions.
Mac
turned to her and saw her frustrated expression at what he had just had her do.
“Shame, shame,” He told her while wagging a finger. “Don’t you superheroines
know that it’s a Federal Crime to have more than five thousand dollars in your
home?”
She
pursed her lips again and gave him a frustrated look, but still had no verbal
answer. He then went back to pressing his sexual advantage as his men looted
her home.
“OOOmmmmOOmm!”
Faith moaned as he once again forced his tongue deep within her mouth and
groped her lusciously curved behind.
After
what must have been a half an hour or so, Mac’s men returned with all they
could take from Faith’s belongings. They would have to return later for the
bigger stuff. By this time, Faith was woozy and lust filled beyond anything she
had ever felt and her body was pliable and compliant to any and all
administrations that Mac desired.
He pulled
her up off of the sofa and placed his arm around her waist again, guiding and
controlling her body and she wobbled and swooned under his control. “Bring a
Salvation Army truck tomorrow and clean the place out.... get as much as you
can.” He told his men.
He then
directed her outside to the street where his men had a van waiting, and Mac had
a limosene with a driver who had been waiting the whole time. The storm now
raged with aggressive drops of water and he directed Faith into the rear seat
of the limo. With a slap on her behind, he followed her inside.
Once
inside, on the passenger seat, he pulled her in close for another sensual,
woozy, lust filled kiss and then slipped his hand between her legs to get a
full feel for the hot, wet mess her sex had become in his hands. He stroked and
rubbed her sex while he deeply kissed her. The limo started up and pulled away
from the curb with the van following close behind.
Faith,
with her shirt now fully opened revealing her stimulated, swollen breasts and
attractively flat tummy, could only undulate under his controlling touch. She
moaned and cooed and made little throaty sounds as he ravaged her body.
“MMmmmNNNNnnn! OOOmmuuunnnn! Oohhhggggfffuuukkkkk!” Nothing mattered but the
licking, sucking and gentle love biting of his tongue; the thrilling feel of
his powerful hands over her body.
The car
and van made their way onto the nearby interstate highway and blended in with
the quickly moving traffic. The storm washed and buffeted the limo as it made
its way. Mac then pulled away from the swooning former heroine and looked
deeply into her eyes, he loved that her breasts were so exposed and vulnerable
to him and yet she did nothing to prevent whatever he may decide to do.
He
looked into her foggy eyes and said, “I want to tell you something, Faith
Eaves.” His mouth was only an inch or so from hers and she could smell and
taste the breath of the man. “Mr. Turgesen has a crazy science dude who comes
up with a lot of the stuff that has defeated heroine’s like you all over the
country. He came up with a chemical that Turgesen wanted me and my men to drink
that changed the makeup of our semen and was supposed to effect your brains
somehow. I think that worked, for the most part.
But, he
also had these green suits with a colorless, ordoless gas that was supposed to
be leaking out so you could inhale it deeply during our battle. That might have
worked a little, too, making your team less of a fighters than you could be.
But, here’s the thing.... I’m the only one of us whose cock you sucked......
I’m the only one you fought and fucked.....and yet here you are, under my
control.... unable to save yourself.”
He then
kissed her lightly on the lips and continued. “I didn’t drink anything I was
given by Quimby, the scientist. I just told Turgesen I did. I hated the stuff.
It tasted like ass. I hate things that taste like ass, you know?” He said
casually.
She
nodded her agreement. “Yes, I know what you mean.”
“I also
disabled the gas in the green suit. Didn’t use it. Didn’t want it....... the
bottom line here miss superheroine, is that it was all ME. No chemicals..... no
gas..... just a man who was better than you...... and here you are..... kissing
me like a whore with my hand in your snatch.....because you just can’t get
enough of it..... enough of ME”
She
watched him with serious eyes as he went quiet and waited for her response.
Despite her love for Senator Aaron Chatelaine and her desire to be his future
wife, she also knew that this strange man, who had beaten her, abused her,
whose name she didn’t even know...... was dead on correct. She just couldn’t
get enough of this man. The man who now massaged her sex freely and without
reserve, in the manner that she had taught him, and caused her a pleasure deep
within her that she ravenously felt a need to satisfy.
She
waited a few moments, looking deeply into his eyes as he continued to massage
her sex and she asked, “Where are you taking me?”
He
nodded. “To be eliminated.”
She
gave a bit of a gasp, then lowered her eyes. After a moment she looked back up
again and asked, “Will it be..... painful?”
“Of
course.” He replied as he pressed his mouth to hers once again in a deep tongue
kiss, his hand upping the rate of massage on her vibrating, soaking hot quim.
She moaned and pressed her naked chest into his.
The car
and van continued on down the interstate toward the horizon and the glorious
setting sun. The clouds had opened up and now dropped buckets of water on the
travelers. Water covered Mac’s limo with wave after wave of wet wash as the
limo made its way toward its final destination while passing through the
November rain.
All the
while a small metal ball ziiiiiiiipppped through the rain behind the car.
Silently waiting. Silently watching.