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.