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Deep Down Inside - Part 26 - Alec

Written by circes_cup :: [Saturday, 11 May 2013 21:47] Last updated by :: [Saturday, 11 May 2013 23:19]


Part 26 - Alec


Warning: This is adult literature.  If you’re not of a legal age to read this stuff, don’t.

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction.  No semblance between the characters described here and real individuals -- living or dead -- is implied or intended.


Plot notes:


For a complete plot synopsis up to this point, see the previous chapter.

In Part 24, a former rugby team has been recruited to serve as the girls' household help -- a task the guys have come to enjoy.  One of the guys, Alec, has taken a shine to Tammy.  He goes to her friend for advice on how to get Tammy's attention.  And he receives a suggestion: watch what makes her happy, and delight her in unexpected ways.

In Part 25, Tammy disappears for several days to reload on power.

Now, she has returned.


Alec watched appreciatively as Tammy strode out to the pool.  She was clad in a one-piece bathing suit that clung particularly well to the firm protrusion of her bust line, but also managed to taper in and hug her thin and toned waistline.  

Alec tried not to stare, but it was hard to ignore the woman's physical perfection.  His planned conversation with her was going to be harder, he realized, than he had expected.

As she approached, he noticed that there was an extra spring in her step.  Whatever she had been missing the other day, she had clearly found it.

"Still got aches and pains?  Kinks?"  Alec asked.  Too forward, he scolded himself.  Saying hello would have been a good idea first.

"Oh hey."  She had seemed only dimly aware of his presence.  "I'm sorry, what did you ask me?"  Her eyes were blue, wide and pure-- glaciers of innocence.

"I uh... before you left, you said that you were having trouble getting the kinks out."

"Oh, THAT."  Tammy stretched as she stood, perhaps newly reminded of her discomforts.  The motion left her fantastic breasts jutting unapologetically in front of her.

Alec involuntarily felt something starting to jut in front of him as well.

"Aches and pains indeed," she admitted.  It's even worse now.  I got zapped pretty good."

"What do you mean?"

"These," she said, running her hands up the sides of her mammaries. "They absorb power -- tons and tons of it.  Those lightning bolts Louisa used to tear apart the prison in Pakistan -- I absorbed many, many times that."

"Oh."  Alec wondered how a normal human was supposed to react to that information.

"Getting zapped really my muscles tense -- in a good way, mind you, but still tense.  Why do you ask?  You got any suggestions?"

"In fact, I've got something better that suggestions.  At least, I hope it's better."

"Do tell," she said, her baby blues sparkling.  Her smell, like jasmine flower, was intoxicating.  The nearness of her angelic face, framed in the shimmering light of her blond hair, sent a tremor through him.

Alec took her hand to lead her through the cottonwoods.  The touch sent another little tremor to follow the first.

In the middle of the cottonwoods stood a cabana.  Alec lifted one of the canvas flaps to reveal a massage bed with crisp linens over it.  Scented candles burned on the periphery.  Brass bowls had been placed for decoration as well, filled with water and the petals of roses.  The canvas walls of the structure flapped in the gentle desert breeze.

"You set this up?"  Her voice was touched.  "For me?"

"It was the best I could do."

"On the contrary, I'm..." Tammy's voice appeared to be caught in her throat.  "I'm flattered.  But what do I here?"

Alec pointed at the massage table.  "You relax.  I do the work."

"I didn't know you were a masseuse," she said, stepping inside.

"I wasn't.  And, technically, I'm still not.  But I did take 40 hours of classes while you were gone."

"But I was gone only for four days."  She traced a finger along the edge of the bed, her hips producing an inviting sway as she walked.  "How did you pack in 40 hours?"

"I found one place that offered a 5-hour class in the morning, and then another that offered the same in the afternoon.  And then I would practice at night."

"Wow...." She turned to face him across the bed.  "For me?"

"Tammy," Alec approached her.  "You're one of the most beautiful, powerful women in the world.  You'll have to get used to people doing exceptional things for you."

"Well, OK" she smiled buoyantly, slipping her arms through the armholes of her one piece suit.  "What did you say your name was again?"

Tammy's prodigious, perfect mounds sprung free of their covering.  Alec gulped nervously -- a reaction that she clearly detected.

"Come on," she giggled, her voluminous tits rising unapologetically from their confines.  "I know this is a question that you can answer.  Name."


"Well done," she purred, slipping the one-piece down across her rigid abdominals.  "I'm sure you've seen a naked woman before?"

"Not one like you," he replied.  "Not one that's perfect."

Tammy beamed as she laid down on the table.  "Well, then maybe we'll both enjoy this."

If removal of her bathing suit had given his manhood one reason to yearn, running his hands over her superhuman body gave him many more.  He had never touched or even imagined a woman so toned and well-defined.  His oiled hands slid over the muscular landscape of her back -- peaks, ridges and valleys made of shifting, living steel.

Her flawlessness was unnerving.  How could a woman one one-in-a-million beauty and the strength of thousands be satisfied by his amateur massage strokes?  Alec began to wonder whether this was all a big mistake.  Maybe some small talk would fill the space.

"You were just in the Ukraine, right?"


He tried to press and knead each muscle --- but beads of sweat on his temple evidenced the difficulty in doing so.  It felt more like massaging solid rock than massaging a person.

"Did you hear what's going on there with the power?" he asked.

"Try me."

"Apparently, they had a massive power outage this week..."

Tammy giggled, mysteriously.

"... and the country's infrastructure has been somewhat weakened as a result.  The Russians are taking advantage.  Their army is pressing across the Kerch Strait."

"The Kerch Strait?  What the hell is that?"

"It's on the border between the two countries."

"Kerch Smerch," Tammy sighed.  "How do you even keep track of all that foreign political stuff is anyway?"

Alec ran his hands around the side of her midriff, parallel to the lower ribs.  Her abdomen was hard, like the trunk of an oak tree.

"I used to have some business dealings in that region, and also with the Bulgarians."  Alec noticed that his diction had dropped to a mumble.  "The dealings didn't end very well."

"As in, somebody has some unfinished business with you?"

Alec smiled.  "Yes, that's pretty much the case.  But I'm going to deal with it."

The blond goddess sighed as his warm hands slid down the small of her back.  Standing near her head, he pressed his oiled hands into the junction of her lower back and her pelvis.  His hands ran over her unrelenting glutes -- so firm that he almost sprained a finger when he forgot to tuck it in.

"How does the massage feel?" he asked.

"Exquisite," she moaned.  "My skin is so much more sensitive that it was before my transformation.  Every touch of your hands produces countless little electric tingles, like a thousand microscopic fingers all working together..."

Alec slid his hands again over the landscape of oiled granite.

", you're really good, Alex."

He smiled inwardly at the comment.  He was so happy to hear it, Alec didn't even bother to correct her on the name.  

"So, does everything in your body feel exquisite?"

Alec moved to her thighs, bearing the entirety of his weight against these, the largest muscles of her body.  It was like massaging two marble columns.  

"Pretty much.  Every touch feels better.  Food tastes better.  Even the desert air smells better."  She inhaled deeply, releasing a contented sigh that made Alec's chest ache with desire.

Alec ran his hands in circles around her thighs.  Their supple curvature seemed to pulsate with immeasurable power.

"Tell me more," he prodded.  He actually wasn't sure he wanted to hear more about her body.  Her physique was already intimidating enough.  But he needed something to distract him from flawless, velvet like skin over which his hands slid.

"One of the best sensations of all is when I use my muscles.  You know that pleasant feeling you get after a good workout?"

"Sure, like after a hard rugby game."  Alex ran his hands down her forearms, dreading to hear exactly how much power lay between his palms.

"We get that pleasant workout feeling right away, while we're using our muscles.  And we get it much more intensely too.  Can you imagine what it's like being three thousand times stronger than a man?"


"Neither can I.  That seems pretty puny to me now.  That used to be our strength level -- right after our transformation -- but then Vicky enhanced us AGAIN.  Now, I'm ten thousand times as strong as you."

Alec warily kneaded her triceps, trying to imagine how the strength of ten thousand could reside inside of them.

"And when I use my muscles, it feels ten thousand times as awesome."

He tried to imagine how anyone could feel anything with ten thousand times the normal human intensity.  Ecstasy would be part of daily life.  Alec applied forceful, languid strokes to the nearly unyielding muscles of her shoulders.   "With that kind of strength, how am I able to massage you at all?"

"It's a two-person job," Tammy laughed.  "You have no idea how much I'm forcing myself to relax."

Something -- an animal, maybe a person -- moved outside the walls of the cabana.  It was a crunching sound, like feet on the rocky sand.  Alec held his breath.

A jackrabbit scurried away into the bushes.

"What are you scared of?" Tammy laughed.  "I just got through explaining that the woman you're straddling is a small army.  It not like anyone is going to attack us in the cabana."

"Sorry-- old instinct.  It has to do with my, uh, unfinished business back in Eastern Europe."

"What the heck did you do?"

"Before my rugby days, I had fallen in with a pretty bad crowd.  Some very wealthy and bad people hired me to steal artwork from museums -- and some of it was priceless."

"Well, no wonder somebody is upset with you."

"Right."  Alec slowly worked the tendons of her neck, which was about as easy as massaging bridge cables.  "One day a wealthy, bad guy hired me to steal artwork from another wealthy, bad guy.  That's when things got unpleasant.  I thought it was all going to blow over three years ago, but it didn't.  I got a phone call the other day.  I need to go fix the mess before it spirals out of control."

Alec flipped the supergirl gently over on her back and began leaning all his weight into her shoulders.  He laid a sheet over the rest of her frontside in the hopes that this brain would allow his brain to function.

"I sincerely hope that you have not been so nice and massage-y with me because you want me to go out and eliminate the guys that are mad at you," she challenged, looking up at him.

"No, not at all," Alec replied quickly.  "I just need to clear up a misunderstanding, that's all.  Besides, you're like a rock star right now.  The world loves you.  None of you deserve to be associated with international art theft."

Tammy's deep pools of blue seemed to agree.  "Exactly.  I'm getting a dozen requests a day from people who want to settle scores with other people.  We're celebrities now.  We're heroes.  We're not mercenaries or negotiators.  People need to work out their own shit, just like before-- you included."

Her confrontational approach didn't bother Alec.  He agreed with her.

He placed his hands on her temples, jealous that his fingers got to travel where his lips could not.  He became lost in her high cheekbones, flawless complexion, pert nose, and those full, inviting lips.

He finally mustered his voice.  "There's one thing though..."


"I'm having an awesome time right now.  I was just hoping that I could take a little memento of you with me, something to remember you by while I'm away."

Tammy smiled as she twirled a finger around several strands of hair, and then yanked.  

"Good luck, Alex," she smiled, handing him the golden lock.


"Missing something?" Tammy asked.

It pained Alec to be leaving.  She was in a tan knit sleeveless top showing off a merciless amount of cleavage, and a mini skirt that stopped halfway up the thigh.

"Missing my cell phone," he replied.  "I've been looking for 45 minutes and if I look any longer, I'll miss my flight."

"Are you on a cloud-based thingy like iTunes?"  Tammy pulled her tablet computer out of her bag as she spoke.

"Yes, but how does that help?"

"Come here, buster."  She cleared a seat for him and handing him the tablet.  "Punch in your user name here..."

The sweet smell of jasmine returned to his nostrils as she leaned over him to guide his finger on the tablet.

"...and then punch in your password here..."

Alec wished more than anything that he could linger here with her, so close to her fragrant, wonderful body.  He wished he could miss his flight, or even miss a hundred flights.

"... and then the website uses the GPS on your phone to find it.  See?  It's in your special little cabana," she giggled.  "Here, I'll grab it for you."

In a blink, she was gone, leaving behind only the rustling of the window blinds. And in other blink she was back, a blond streak racing across the estate grounds before it gracefully launched into the air, landing on the second floor patio with the delicacy of a butterfly.

"Wow," he remarked.  "I had no idea you could move like that."

"I know.  You men sometimes seem to struggle in the imagination department.  Come back soon," she pecked him on the cheek.  "I'll need one of those spa treatments again before long.."


"Somebody has a boy crush!"  Kim chided.

Tammy quickly closed the blinds and turned away from the window.  She had been gazing distantly at the gates of the estate, where a taxicab was pulling away, bound for the airport.

"I do NOT have a boy crush," Tammy groaned returning to the sofa.  "A crush happens when you want someone and you can't have them.  When I want someone, I always have them."

"But you're ATTACHED," Kim persisted.  "I can see it in your eyes."

"Bullshit," Tammy retorted, a bit too earnestly.  "Who do you think I have this attachment to anyway?"

"What's-his-name," Kim replied.  "Mr. Backrub.  I've never seen you so sad or worried or whatever as when he walked out the door."

"Mr. Backrub or Alex or whatever doesn't mean anything to me.  He did something very nice for me, which I really appreciated.  And in return he got to run his oily paws over my naked body."

Kim laughed.

"But that was it," Tammy insisted.  "It was a transaction.  I could care less about him.  That's the nature of being a supergirl, isn't it?  We don't have to give a shit about anyone."

"You don't have to give a shit about him, but I think you've chosen to."

"No, actually, it's the opposite.  He's involved in some dark cloak-and-dagger shit with stolen artwork and I told him to sort it out himself.  After all,I need a scandal like a hole in the head.  The world loves me now.  Did you hear that they are selling little Tammy dolls in the toy stores now?"


"They've sold like 100,000 of them this week alone.  I've got a $200,000 royalty check for letting someone use my likeness on dolls and shit.  It's sitting on the dining room table.  I made more money in a week than I did in five years of part-time waitressing jobs, and you know how much effort it took me?"  Tammy didn't wait for an answer, but instead formed her fingers into a zero.

"And you don't want to get mixed up in something that could sully your image," Kim offered.

"I'm enjoying been an A-list celebrity.  And don't get me wrong, I like the guy.  But if Mr. Backrub needs to sort out some shit from his past, he can help himself.  He said he'd take care of it, and I believe him.  Old art heists aren't my problem."

"Just out of curiosity, did he say what painting was causing all the trouble?" Kim asked.

"It was a Renaissance piece -- the Denial of Peter, or something like that.  I don't really remember.  Like I said, Kim, nice guy, great backrub.  But that doesn't mean I'm attached to him."

And at that, a distant cock crowed.


"This isn't doing anything for me," Tammy admitted, climbing out of the water and onto the rocky desert shore.  

"I was hoping it would clear your head," Kim admitted apologetically.

Tammy stared back at Lake Powell, silent except for the gentle lapping of waves against the shore.  As she watched, the waves hitting the shore briefly increased in size, the gentle lapping transforming to a breaking crash of water.  It was the wake from the girls' recent swim, belatedly catching up to them.  For Tammy and Kim, a casual swim meant moving through the water at three times the speed of the powerboats, sending the boats bobbing helplessly under the force of the waves the girls generated.

The girls had swum the lake's 185-mile length three times now, and Tammy was not the least bit winded.  In fact, her muscles had exhilarated at the labor, rising to the challenge and savoring it.  A happy workout-induced bliss now pervaded her body.

But her mind was somewhere else.

"It's only 8:30 in the morning, and you're already antsy and distant again.  What's eating you?"  Kim's patient almond eyes almost sparkled in the desert morning light.

"He hasn't returned.  He hasn't called.  Nothing, no sign of him.  I keep going over and over it in my head again.  I can't believe he would just disappear on us.   Was he scared of me?  Did something else come up?"

"You're talking about Mr. Backrub?"

"Yes."  Tammy seemed lost in the reflected oranges and blues of the lake.

"I thought he didn't mean anything to you?"  Kim chided.

Tammy's eye's were on the ground.  "He doesn't.  Or maybe he does.  I don't know anymore."


Tammy cast her friend an impatient look.

"And you're wondering why he hasn't returned." Kim mused.  "Whenever you were around, that man's face positively lit up.  He wouldn't leave you unless he was forced to."

"I know.  He would have gone to the ends of the earth for me.  Something isn't right."

The girls silently studied the play of desert colors on the rippling water.

"He did nice things for me.  And I want him back here, back with us."  Tammy's shadow drifted across the landscape as her body ascended.  "I'm going to bring him back.   And I pity the soul that tries to get in my way."


The cold of the concrete floor enveloped Alec, numbing his mind in ways the pain had not.  The interrogation had been endless, made worse by the fact that he honestly didn't have the answers.  He had come here expecting to be able to sort it out; instead, they were tearing him to pieces.

In his tortured vision, he saw that one of his captors was now standing beside his crumpled form.  Polished black shoes filled Alec's field of view before one of them impacted his ribs.  Pain once again raced throughout his gut.

"For the last time, the painting -- where is it?"

"I've already told you everything I know."  For Alec, every word was a struggle for his bruised and abused body, but he persevered.  "I don't know what they did with it after I delivered it to the meeting point.  And that was three years ago."  

He smelled the cigarette smoke again, felt his shirt being lifted up, and then felt the searing pain as a butt was pressed into his torso.  Twenty such burns were already on him, but each new one elicited a scream as loud as the first.

"About now, I bet you're hoping that we just kill you and be done with it," said the Bulgarian accent of the captor who appeared to be in charge.

Alec struggled to turn his head and see the face of the man towering over him.  One eye wouldn't open, already swollen and bloody from the earlier beating.  The other eye saw the man's frame silhouetted against the fluorescent bulbs of the ceiling.  Alec secretly agreed with the man's statement: death right now would be a blessing.

The Bulgarian accent continued.  "My friend, do not get your hopes up.  We aren't going to kill you now.  First, we're going to torture you some more.  Then, we're going to send photos of your fucked-up body to your family...."

Alec's cell phone somehow appeared in his field of view.  The man was holding it in front of Alec's face, as if to explain exactly what was going to take the photos, or exactly how his captors would find the email addresses of his family.  The man's thumb depressed the power button, and the light of the start screen flooded Alec's vision.

"And once we send the photos to your family, we'll read you the desperate heart-broken pleadings of your family before we kill you."

Alec strained at his bindings anew, and screamed as best he could given the phlegm and blood in his throat.

An orange extension cord and a power tool entered Alec's field of view -- a handheld jigsaw or some such device.  If he hadn't found the resources to scream his lungs completely out earlier, he found them now.  A sickening buzz filled his ears as the device came to life.

Alec felt his shoes being removed.  Then it hit -- an agonizing pain in his left foot followed by the smell of his own blood was it poured out over his clothes, the saw blade, the floor.  They were taking his toes off, one by one.

Alec had counted two of his own toes dropping to the floor when an overwhelming roaring sound consumed the warehouse.  Even with the pain of his foot coursing through him, he managed to turn his head awkwardly to see the roof of the warehouse undulate and shake.  It was apparently being subjected to monstrous winds -- perhaps a tornado, or several.  

Moments later, a SCREECH marked the aluminum roof tearing free of its free of its framing, floating upward as a punishing wind beat down on Alec's face.  The roof floated away to reveal the night sky.  

Alec watched his captors look up in confusion and trepidation.  Floating in the skies above was a woman, her blond hair billowing in the wind. She was surrounded by a firmament of stars, which cast her in a cold, unforgiving light.


Tammy tossed her tablet computer away as she slowly descended through the open ceiling.  Alec belatedly put the pieces together -- the program, the one they had used to find his phone in the cabana, she had used it again.  And this time, she used it to find him.

"Payback," she exclaimed from above.  "There's an app for that."

Alec heard the sound of a dozen guns being cocked.  His stomach churned in dread.  He had seen her withstand the blows of a knife before.  But none of the men at the estate had ever seen or heard of the girls withstanding more.

The guns erupted all at once, a horrible chorus of bangs and pops directed upward.  Alec squeezed his eyes shut.  The only thing worse than losing his own life would be losing hers -- the woman who had brought more elation to his heart, his groin, his mind than any other possibly could.

After perhaps a hundred rounds, the gunfire finally stopped.  An acrid smoke filled his nose and Alec slowly opened his working eye.  She was standing there, her clothes shredded by the gunfire.  But otherwise she was her usual unharmed, gorgeous self.  

Two of the men closest to Tammy drew knives and prepared to lunge at her from behind.  In one moment, she seemed barely to acknowledge their presence.  In the next, her body twirled into a combination of karate and aerial ballet, her leg completing a full roundhouse kick in the flash of an eye.  

Tammy landed perfectly on her feet and locked her attention back on Alec.  Beside her, two bodies crumpled to the floor, headless.  The assailants had been nothing more than a momentary distraction.

Alec felt himself hoisted up by hairy, male arms.  A sharp poke against his adam's apple turned out to be the harsh sawtooth blade of the jigsaw, ready to slice his life open.

"Another move and he dies," rumbled the brawn that held him.

"He belongs to me," she seethed.  "Release him and I'll let you live."

The jigsaw, its blade less than an inch from his throat, roared viscously to life. With death a hair's breath away, Alec hoped that Tammy would back off.  Sure, she could come and tear this guy apart too.  But if this guy's body slumped the wrong way, if his arm even twitched in the throes of death, it would be curtains for Alec as well.

"Back off, Tammy," Alec insisted.  "They're crazy enough to do it."

And yet, Alec saw only calm on Tammy's face.  She surveyed her surroundings dispassionately.  Her eyes darted back and forth, up and down -- not like a person in a fight, but more like a person standing in front of a vending machine wondering which snack to buy.  She wasn't trying to decide whether to take this guys, he finally realized.  Her superhuman body could handle these guys in a dozen different ways.  She was trying to pick which one to use.

Finally, Tammy's face grew solid, her choice apparently complete.  She thrust one arm toward the circuit breaker, far off in the corner of the building.  A blue bolt shot out from the box, feeding into her.  The building went dark in an instant as Tammy drank up the entirety of its energy.  Lights flickered off, the air handling unit grumbled as it ceased -- and the jigsaw at his throat fell silent.

In the darkness, the smell of jasmine tickled Alec's nose.  She a had come close.  

He felt a hand whip through the air toward his captor.  A sickening SNAP sounded from the man's upper arm, and the man's grip on Alec instantly eased.  Another series of snaps emanated from his neck, and the captor's body fell away entirely.  

The man's embrace was replaced by a more feminine one: a single arm around Alec's ribcage, a firm mound bearing forcefully into his back, wisps of golden hair spilling across his shoulders.  He felt the ground leave his feet, and soon felt the upward rush of wind as she carried him skyward.  Below, he saw for the first time the site of his detention -- a warehouse, now missing its roof, surrounded by cargo and industrial machinery.

Groggily, Alec turned his head to see a red flashing light approaching.  It was the top of a radio tower.  He soon felt his body being laid atop its wireframe maintenance perch, hundreds of feet above the ground.  

"I'm sorry you had to come for me," Alec groaned groggily as his body slumped into the wire frame platform.  "This wasn't your problem."

"Shut up," she chided.

"I mean, I could see you doing it for a boyfriend or a lover.  But I'm just another guy in your entourage -- one of many."

"Shut up." Her voice was pleading this time.

Safe now, Alec felt himself drifting into a stupor.

"Did they torture you badly?" she asked, placing a finger gently on his bruised eye.

"Yes," he said, his voice weakening.

"It's been so long since I felt pain, I can't even imagine what you endured.  How did you get through it?"

Alec didn't answer, but instead slumped over, nearly unconscious.  He felt the strength going out of him.  Keep your fists closed, he implored himself.  Don't open them, don't let her see.  She'd laugh.  She'd think it was pathetic.

"I'm serious, Alex.  How did you keep your hope alive?"

Alec's exhortations to himself were no use.  In his delirium, felt his fingers separating from his palm.

"Oh my gosh."  Tammy's voice broke.

As the stupor continued to overtake him, Alec felt his fists unclench further to reveal their contents-- the golden lock of her hair.  

"You got me through it, Tammy," he admitted.

Eyes drifting shut, Alec heard a stifled sob, and felt her warm quivering hand on his cheek.

"Stay up here," she instructed, as if he could do anything else.  "I need to deal with the bad guys down there."

"There are three dozen of them down there," Alec cautioned, forcing his eyes open slightly.


As she floated away, Alec knew he should have been scared of the precipitous height of his perch-- a deadly fall for any man.  He knew he should have reminded her to remove his wrist bindings, so that he could navigate the platform safely.  But he ignored all of these items, consumed instead by the image of her face as she had turned to leave.  Suffused by the light of the red beacon, it reflected a terrible, fiery fury.


The leader of the gang of mercenaries wasted no time on indecision.  Their captive gone and a bullet-proof superwoman in the area -- it was time to flee.  But getting out of there was not an instant process. One of the guys who she killed also happened to be one of the drivers -- an idiot who dressed like GI Joe with layer upon layer of camouflage shit riddled with unnecessary pockets.  The clothing of he and his headless buddy had more compartments than a tackle box, and it took five minutes of fishing through their garments to find the car keys.

Now, through desperate screaming and pointing, he nearly had his three-dozen men assembled in the vehicles when he heard a soft voice behind him.  

"There's no rush," said the feminine whisper.  "They can't escape me."

The leader turned to see the superwoman standing next to him, her flawless face only a foot from his own.  The blue of her eyes, which had earlier seemed captivating and alluring to him, seemed that way no longer.  It was now the blue of a blow torch.

The leader's mind froze in a combination of fascination and dread.  He heard the first SUV tear out in a shower of dirt as the others started their engines.

Then she was gone.   In his peripheral vision, he saw a streak of blond hurtle into the air and tuck into a somersault.  It landed next to a forklift about thirty yards in front of the first van.  A second vehicle entered the driveway and rapidly followed the first.

The next moment was perhaps the most awe-inspiring of the mercenary leader's life.  The woman grabbed the forklift by one of its metal forks and hoisted it into the air--  6,000-kilogram object and she was holding it one-handed.  It didn't look like the weight even challenged her!

Despite the physical peril they all were in, he couldn't help but notice: she was magnificent.  Her clothes, which had been shredded in the earlier gunfire, hung limply around a body that any mortal soul would be envious to possess.  Breasts that were large enough to ensnare any male eye also seemed absurdly firm, barely constrained by the shreds of her clothing.  The muscles of her arms and shoulders were slim and yet well defined, flaring to handle the crushing load.  Her abdomen seemed chiseled from solid rock.  Her trim waist led down full and wide hips.  Muscular thighs and an ass of rounded rock were as intimidating as they were inviting.  

She was an engrossing sight to behold.

With the forklift still held unbelievably aloft, her scowl seemed to deepen as the first van approached.  Taking the fork in both hands, she planted one foot perpendicular to the driveway, and bent her leading knee slightly.

Holy shit, the leader remarked to himself.  She's playing baseball.

As the SUV neared her, she swung the heavy machinery like a bat, producing and enormous CRUSH.  The front of the SUV exploded in a wave of debris.  It was as if the vehicle had collided with a brick wall.  In fact, it was far worse.  Propelled by the force of the impact, the SUV flew backward and collided with the van that had been following it, turning both vehicles into accordions.  Perhaps someone in those vehicles could have survived that impact, but surely many had perished as well.

Surveying the scene, she spied a third van beginning to pull away, seeking a different direction out.  She let fly the forklift as if she was throwing a baseball.  It impacted the moving van from the side, sending it rolling wheels-over-roof four times before it collapsed to a halt.

The remaining mercenaries opened fire on the blond in a new and useless barrage of bullets.  She walked, and did not run, toward her assailants, which only seemed to increase their panic.  An additional round of gunfire was dispensed, and this time she casually waved her hand through air, as if she were trying to capture fireflies.  

Then, she tossed the contents of her hand skyward - the bullets.  She had been fishing bullets out of thin air!

Too stunned to run, the leader watched the horrible spectacle continue to unfold.  As the first tossed bullets fell back toward earth, the woman cocked her index finger against her thumb and flicked the metal toward her assailants.  A sickening crack was heard, and one of the gunmen crumpled to the ground, a gaping hole in his forehead.  The leader realized only belatedly that her method was no more complicated that a college student playing Quarters, but the effect of her effort was far more precise than any gunfire he had seen.

As the other tossed bullets passed her, she cocked her fingers and flicked them too.  In the space of two seconds, a dozen more of his men were down, dead.

It wouldn't be long now, the mercenary leader knew.  He felt sturdy male hands shove him toward the open rear door of a van.  He heard the vehicle start up, and felt the jolt as it tore away from the compound.  The whole experience was strangely distant to him.  His awe at her power seemed to overwhelm his years of training and even his basic sense of self-preservation.  When he should have been peering out of the back window to see if she was following, his mind instead rolled the images over and over -- those muscles, that flawless skin, the beauty of her movement, and the cold, hard expression her angelic face.  His life force seemed so minuscule next to hers.  He was a buoy on the ocean of her will power.  He was nothing to her.

A wind kicked up around the fleeing van, quickly transforming from a shrill whine to a deep howl.  Outside the van, he could hear the large trees cracking, their branches flying past his field of view.  The sound of the engine told him that the driver was gunning it forward.  And he could hear the tires desperately kicking up dirt.  But looking at the landscape, he could tell the van was inexplicably being dragged backwards.  The insane wind was pulling them back -- back to her.


Only the sound of waves lapping the shore punctuated the evening silence of the beach.  Alec knew roughly where she had flown them, although he suspected that she was ignorant of the place.  To Eastern Europeans, Crimea was a well known resort area, but most Americans had never heard of it.  From the air, it must simply have looked like a quiet beach, out of the way of mercenaries and art thieves.

He could sense the worry in her breath as she leaned in for gentle kiss.  A wave of sensual delight danced across his mouth as she squeezed his arm.

"You're going to be ok," Tammy advised softly as she broke off the kiss.  "Temperature of 99, blood pressure 110 over 55, heart rate of 100."

"How do you know?"

"I squeezed your arm to get your blood pressure.  I kissed you to get the rest," she said gently.


"I'm a hundred times more accurate than the shit they have at the hospital," she advised as she surveyed his battered face.   "I'm not going to abandon you to some hospital with their crappy diagnostics."

"But how can you..."

"You men never cease to amaze me.  No offense, but you're inferior in every way, not least of which is your imagination."  She tore his shirt open, the buttons popping from the violence of the action.  His chest was a landscape of cigarette burns.  "Holy shit," she remarked.

"Look at my foot first," Alec groaned.  "My left foot."

She raised his pant leg.  Blood from his two severed toe stumps was everywhere.  It looked like he had dipped his foot in a red swamp.  "Oh my god, Alex," she whispered, "how could I have let this happen?"

He watched Tammy, illuminated by the light of the stars, bite the end of her finger.  She winced in pain -- the first time he had seen such an expression on her face.  Blood soon flowed from a cut the size of a pencil eraser.

She pressed her bloody finger down on his foot, and instantly, the pain of his missing toes disappeared.  He could see his blood stop flowing, and soon scar tissue was forming were red flesh had once been.

"There were rumors among the guys that you could do this--" Alec said between panting breaths, "--something Chad said.  I guess they weren't making it up."

As he lay supine, resting on his elbows, her bloody finger hopscotched across his body.  Everywhere it went, wounds healed and pain was replaced by a tingling warmth.  His bruised and shut eye received the treatment last: the swelling instantly receded.  

He opened the newly healed eye.  Her face was there - concerned, contented.  He felt the warm firmness of her breasts pressing against the frailty of his ribcage.  With the last of his wounds now healed, the grogginess of his pain began to clear.

"How many of them did you eliminate?" Alec asked.

"The cigarette burns were about twenty in number, and then your toes---"

"No, I mean the mercenaries.  How many of them did you eliminate?"

"I don't know," she said distantly.  "All of them, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"I wasn't thinking about them.  I was thinking about you."

Alec paused, his gaze skyward up to the stars.  She rested her head on his chest, looking up when he spoke again.

"I feel really bad that you had to come out here and bail me out," he confessed.  "I'm crazy for you.  It's been obvious, I'm sure.  And I wanted to do nice things for you.  Now, I've done the opposite, and dragged you into a bloody fight."

"You don't have to feel bad.  Killing those men felt good.  It was... cathartic."

"What if someone finds out?  Wouldn't all this ruin your image as a celebrity-- the Heroine of the Gulf?"

"We girls have stopped caring about consequences like that.  We do what we want, and the world adapts.  I'll spin the story however I want."

He paused, wind from the Black Sea whipping his hair.

She peered into his face.  "You don't get it, do you, you adorable knucklehead?"

"I guess I don't," he said, confused.

"Here," she said, hoisting herself off his body and sitting up on her knees.  "See this scar from the cigarette?  It's actually in the shape of a T."

"Huh," he said.

"All the other scars are are completely healed, but I'm leaving this one.  Whenever you see this, I want you to think of me.  T for Tammy."

"OK," he chuckled.

"When you see it, let it be a reminder that you fought for my affection and won it.  And now I want you in the worst way, and woe be to the man that tries to get between us.  I came and fetched you from the sorry corner of the world because you make me happy-- and that I'll never let anyone take you away from me."

Alec was speechless with emotion.  He traced his fingers over the hands that had leveled a platoon of trained mercenaries without effort.  He ran his hands over the perfectly defined arm muscles that had transformed a forklift into a bat in a game of baseball.  His palms grazed the hourglass midriff that had deflected a hail of gunfire without a scratch.  His fingers grasped the nearly spherical curvature of the ass that has catapulted her three stories into the air.  His exploratory hands danced down the generous swell of her super-charged thighs-- muscles that had powered a five-hundred mile swim before breakfast without breaking a sweat.  Pulling his hands back up, he felt the muscular flawlessness of her back, her supple skin smoother than velvet.

"I'm in Guy Heaven," he admitted.

She pulled his body into her far harder one.  Firm breasts constricted the movement of his ribs, large nipples blossoming larger and with the hardness of steel.  Her breath in his ear was sweet and enticing, the distant scent of jasmine.  "I don't know if you realized this yet, but you won't be sleeping tonight."

"What if I don't measure up?"  He asked, in fear.  "I mean, I'm just a normal guy.  And I was just tortured. I'm dehydrated, low on nutritional intak--"

She silenced him with her bloody finger, tracing it over his lips and tongue.  "You will measure up," she asserted.

In an instant, he felt as though a dozen energy drinks had been poured down his gullet.  His senses came achingly alive, his heart raced, his cock strained in anticipation.

"What the--" he began to ask.

"Superpowered girls need superpowered blood.  Superior oxygen delivery, superior nutrient content, blah blah blah blah.  A few drops of that mojo and tonight you're going to fuck like a rock star."  

A delighted gasp escaped his lips as she lowered her wet sex over him.  She moaned needfully, a soft coo that enlivened his cock all the more.

Her pussy, exceptionally tight and yet exceptionally hot and frictionless, drew him deeply into her.  Alec groaned in ecstasy.

They did fuck like rock stars that night-- hour upon hour of mind-blowing lovemaking as his groin pumped load after unexpected load of his passion into her.


As the amber hues of dawn slowly crept across the sky, he felt his energy begin to fade.  Having cum twelve times, she withdrew mercifully, allowing him to rest.

In the gloom of dawn, the sound dozens of advancing Russian helicopters could be heard, was well as the BOOM of mortar fire closer to the Kerch Strait.  The Russians were pressing into Crimea, taking territory they had long desired.  And the locals, their military disorganized from weeks of systemic power outages, seemed unable to resist.  

Russian gunships tore overhead, firing rockets at military units to the west.  He pulled Tammy's powerful, indestructible body close.  In the company of any other, he would have been scared shitless.  But with her arm encircling him, and his head resting on her supercharged breast, he knew that he was surrounded by the strength of armies.  

He stared into the living, crystalline blue of Tammy's eyes.  Her gaze was distant and contented.  It occurred to Alec that she may not even have fully acknowledged the military menace that swept past them.  Such was the greatness of her power-- that missiles and mortars and worse were not enough to disturb her post-coital bliss.

He squeezed her gratefully.  Slowly, he allowed sleep to overtake him.  She exuded a confident warmth, which enveloped him even as the chill wind charged at them from over the grey and ruthless sea.

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