S.W.R. – The Battle on Buck Owens Boulevard
Written by LustMonster :: [Monday, 26 December 2016 16:46] Last updated by :: [Thursday, 12 January 2017 10:04]
Highway 99, four kilometers south of downtown Bakersfield
The blizzard of lead did not let up as the two super beauties approached the barricade.
Commander Barbara Wallace risked a glance to her right, so she could watch her sexy lieutenant lean into the heavy blasts of machine gun fire as she strode resolutely forward. The Commander felt a curious blend of jealousy and horniness.
My lieutenant is anchoring like it is no big deal!
Invulnerable as they were, each muscle goddess weighed a little over one hundred kilos. The fusillade of steel-jacketed lead should, by all rights, be blasting them backward the way they had come. Until very recently, it would certainly have been doing that to Wendy. The Commander had awareness and control (well, near control) of her own ability to anchor herself against extreme external forces such as explosions or heavy gunfire, but until now she had chosen not to use it in Wendy's presence. Before the episode with the abandoned excavator, her lieutenant had never manifested the ability or appeared to have any knowledge of it. The Commander had been content to keep it that way, at least until she felt confident that her subordinate could tamp down the rampant horniness that the power produced as a rather annoying (but also very delightful) side effect.
But Wendy DeKalb wielded the ability now with apparent ease as if she'd known how for years. As far as the Commander could tell, her lieutenant did not seem to be anywhere near falling down on the ground in the throes of uncontrolled orgasm.
I wish it was that easy for me!
The Commander turned her attention forward, looking again at the span of metal scraps heaped underneath the highway overpass. Small gaps in the barricade belched thunderous streams of heavy rounds that blasted against the muscle goddesses' bodies (and occasionally their heads). It felt good, damn good. Too fucking good. The heavy lead slugs impacting the Commander's chest, abs, and thighs were erotic enough by themselves. But tapping the invisible energy around her to maintain her footing against the constant blasting force drove her lust to even greater heights.
The Commander felt her traction slip and her body driven backward for a fraction of a second as her mental hold on the anchor flagged.
The Commander concentrated.
The world around her became slightly transparent. Through it, she could glimpse surfaces. Blasted, uneven surfaces and jagged outcroppings, all in shades of gray, or possibly colors beyond the rainbow of the real world. It was as if she was viewing a vast rock wall in every direction she looked, even above and below. Brilliant points of light peppered the seemingly limitless expanse.
One of those points, the one the Commander was most familiar with (and the only one she felt comfortable making contact with anymore), fueled her anchoring power. She refocused on it, strengthening her mind and body's attachment to its seemingly limitless current.
Just that one point. None of the others! NEVER again, oh no …
A dozen steps ahead, Wendy reached the barricade first. She sighed with relief as the gunfire suddenly stopped. Truth be told, her approach through the intense hailstorm of lead had not been as easy as she had made it look. The constant barrage of projectiles trying to rip apart her body made her horny as hell (as such things always did), and this recently discovered ability to maintain her balance against all that blasting force dumped even more fuel on her raging lustfire. She had no idea where she was drawing the power from or how it worked, although the strange glimmers and shadows in her vision while she used it must be clues of some sort. But doing it felt so fucking good! A few more seconds tapping that weird power, and she would likely have fallen down on the ground in the throes of mind-blowing orgasm. That would have been rather embarrassing.
Wendy could hear shouting and banging coming from somewhere ahead of her within the barricade. Whoever had been manning the guns were evidently beating a very hasty retreat. The viciously grinning lieutenant slipped one hand through the smoking gun port and gripped the hot barrel of the chain gun. With her fingers sinking into the squalling steel, she gave the whole thing a mighty yank, tearing the weapon right off its mount and pulling the helpless metal mass straight out of the gun port.
The Commander came up behind just as her lieutenant completely extracted the now mangled remains of the machine gun. "Here, have a gun," Wendy shouted over the sounds of disintegrating steel as she casually tossed her superior the whole jagged mess. As the Commander proceeded to crush it against her own massive chest and rip it to pieces with childlike pleasure, Wendy sank her fingers into the edges of the gun port and tore the wall wide open.
The two of them stepped into the messy, dimly lit interior of the barricade. Their muscles were pumped. They were very hungry to exert their colossal strength against anything standing in their way. The Commander closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to reign in this unseemly battle lust that was threatening to consume her.
"Nobody here!" Wendy exclaimed as she whipped her head around to take it all in. She was mildly disappointed that there was no one around to fall down on their knees before her goddess-like power.
"Gee, you think they would have hung around and welcomed us with open arms," the Commander responded dryly. "Let's—"
The Commander was interrupted by indistinct shouts and the sounds of heavy things banging together, coming from somewhere else within the barricade. More shouts, then some words became distinguishable:
"… leave the prisoners! Fuck it! KILL them! Kill them now, then meet me at …"
The remaining words were drowned out by more sounds of clanging metal.
"Prisoners!" Wendy exclaimed. "Where …?"
The Commander snarled as she bunched up her fists in front of her and plowed toward the voices, completely ignoring (and tearing right through) minor inconveniences like thick walls, support beams, or the various heaps of junk strewn about the place.
Wendy followed her Commander, reaching her arms out to add to the general destruction for no good reason but because it felt so damned good. There was more shouting ahead - a deep male voice cursing at someone in heavily accented English mixed with something else.
"Faen ta deg! Go on then, shoot us! Feigt drittsekk …"
The Commander skidded to a stop. She stared at the corrugated metal wall, then closed her eyes. Wendy watched her superior with great curiosity as the massive redhead seemed to gaze at the wall through closed eyelids, breathing slowly, her arms stretched out toward her sides, fingers splayed. Suddenly the Commander shot one arm forward and charged at the wall, smashing through it at a spot just a little to the left of where she had been staring.
Wendy followed her through the new hole in the wall. She found herself in another room. The Commander was standing with one arm still outstretched, her hand crushing the middle of an automatic rifle. A man standing next to her still had his hand on the grip, so it was being crushed as well. The man stared at the bloody mess in shock, then started to scream.
Against the wall, on either side of the hole the Commander had just created, two men stood in ragged fatigues bearing insignia that the Commander did not recognize. Their arms were raised above their heads, and their wrists and ankles were shackled to the wall. The two prisoners were very tall and extremely muscular. They looked like gods. No, they looked like stereotypical Vikings. And they appeared to be identical twins.
Still holding the gun (and the hand of the man who had wielded it) crushed in one mighty fist, the Commander gestured toward a door on the opposite side of the room. "Lieutenant, head that way and retrieve the other guy. And anyone else you might come across, though I believe you won't find any."
Wendy nodded and barreled through the now-locked door, not bothering to make any attempt to unlock it first. Behind her, the Commander touched her finger to her ear, activating the tiny comm unit stuffed deep into her ear canal. "Sergeant, send a squad to my location. Four prisoners to pick up. At least one needs medical attention. Prepare an individual holding cell for each."
She let go of the crushed rifle, and the gunman sank to his knees, weeping incoherently as he cradled his mutilated hand. The two prisoners just gaped at the scantily clad muscle goddess, dumbfounded.
Crashes and shouts from somewhere nearby indicated the lieutenant's continued pursuit of the gunman's buddy. Then Wendy's voice piped up in her earpiece: "Got him! On my way back. Nobody else around as far as I can tell."
The Commander turned toward the shackled prisoners and gave them a lingering look. They were indeed a very handsome pair, even in their present scruffy state. Judging by their physical appearance and the language of their earlier curses, they were a long way from home. Very interesting.
"You two, hang tight. I will free you once my men arrive to take you into custody."
The two gorgeous men just gazed at her through those amazing blue eyes.
Damn, I could lose myself in those eyes...
Wendy returned with the second "bad guy" at the same time as the squad of soldiers in full battle uniform arrived. The Commander made quite an impressive display of ripping the prisoners' shackles apart to free them. One of them grinned broadly and said something to the other, and the Commander heard her own name mixed in with the foreign words. The other man also smiled. The Commander glared at the man who had spoken.
"You know who I am?"
The Viking nodded happily and spoke in thickly accented English, "You are Barbara Wallace, Commander of the Special Weapons Research Station of California. We have come here to find you!"
The Commander took that in, thought for a moment, then responded, "Well then, we have a lot to talk about. But I do not have time for this now. You two will accompany these fine soldiers back to our convoy. We will continue this discussion later." She gestured to the soldiers, who produced handcuffs and proceeded to secure all four men. One of them had already had a temporary field dressing around his mangled hand, and he was clutching it with his other hand and sobbing. The soldiers led the four men out of the barricade, leaving the two muscle goddesses alone again. Then the question that kept tugging at Wendy's mind burst free.
"Um, Commander, how did you know which part of the wall to smash through?"
The Commander just stood silent for about ten seconds, lost in thought. Then she replied, "That is a small part of a much bigger conversation we need to have. I put it off far too long. I promise we will have it on our way back to base. Until then, let us focus on the task at hand."
Wendy nodded, biting her lip. Then she said, "As I was looking for that guy, I noticed that the other guns in the barricade were wired up to fire by remote. I think the two baddies we found were running the whole show."
"Yes, that will be another interesting conversation. I will need to dust off my manual on interrogation techniques, I guess. Unless they feel like talking freely."
The Commander's head swiveled on her massive neck as she took in the great mass of scrap metal all around them.
"This is some good scrap, lieutenant. If possible, I'd like to collect it before our Expedition heads home. I am sure it will grieve you severely when I order you to help me clear this whole mess off the road. It's blocking our vehicles— NO, DON'T DO THAT!"
The little girl who could level a city hopped up and down like the world's most muscular pogo stick, her hands clasped together. The Commander dropped her hands from her ears, then clasped them together and slammed them into the nearest wall with a shattering CRASH.
"Oh, don't start the party without me!" Wendy cried. Then she crouched down, forming her whole body into a meaty wrecking ball, and propelled herself into the opposite wall.
The two muscle goddess spent a delightful half hour smashing everything in sight, reducing everything to finely shredded rubble lined up alongside the highway.
After their earlier run-in with the blasting chain guns, the annihilation of the barricade and overpass proved to be too much for even the Commander's self-control, let alone her eternally lusty lieutenant's. The two muscle goddesses ended up making insane love deep within the newly created rubble pile. They reduced most of it to something like fine glittery sand that filled the air around them like a great dust storm.
A short time later, the path was reasonably clear and the six-vehicle caravan was able to proceed north. The two-woman wrecking crew preceded it on foot, resuming their road-clearing duty with more gusto than ever before. There was still surprisingly little to actually clear, but what there was ended up sailing far to either side of the highway, often in big cartwheeling chunks.
When the lead vehicle reached the Buck Owens Boulevard offramp, the convoy halted.
The Commander touched her finger to her earlobe. "Sergeant, make camp and deploy all defenses around the convoy, but maintain guards on our guests. The lieutenant and I are heading down into the city. Don't be surprised if we stir up a hornet's nest."
"Yes, ma'am! Looking forward to a bang-up battle, ma'am!"
The Commander smiled and turned to her lieutenant. "Our lovely sergeant is spoiling for a fight."
Wendy returned the smile. "So am I!" She flexed a huge bicep and licked it.
"Based on our recent surveillance, I expect to encounter a lot of abbies, a lot of cocoons stashed away, and little else. The city's population will have fled or been imprisoned in the cocoons. Come, lieutenant. Let's go prove I'm right."
The Commander walked toward the offramp. Her lieutenant followed. Their progress was slowed by a considerable amount of wrecked cars, which they took their usual delight in demolishing.
They descended the long offramp, which curved to the right as it neared ground level and terminated at Buck Owens Boulevard. A smaller barricade had been set up here some time ago, but no delightful sprays of gunfire greeted them. Wendy carved her way through the middle, though it would not have taken much effort to climb over it.
They found themselves standing at an intersection and facing two of the city's most famous landmarks. Directly ahead of them, a wide arch spanned the roadway, with the word BAKERSFIELD stretching across it. It had definitely seen better days. Some of the letters were faded or on the verge of falling off, and one of its supporting towers looked like it had barely survived a head-on collision with a truck. The burned-out remains of the truck were still partially embedded in the structure.
To its right stood a large building resembling an opera house from the Old West. It had indeed been a country music hall, with a large sign on a pole high above the parking lot identifying it as the Buck Owens Crystal Palace. Like the arch next door, the place was run down and seemingly abandoned.
"So here we are, lieutenant: the one hotspot in the city, according to the thermal signatures picked up by the drones."
Wendy and the Commander stood side by side, hands on hips, facing the music hall. The lieutenant's lips stretched in a smirk. It had not escaped her notice that this particular pose seemed to invite trouble, usually in the form of some ultra-destructive force(s) attempting to rip their sexy bodies to shreds.
Disappointingly, no such forces were ravaging them at this very moment.
"They're here, lieutenant. My Spidey-sense is tingling like mad."
"Never mind. Let's go in and have a loo—"
One of the building's large windows burst outward in a hail of glittering shards. A shrieking abbie poured itself through the window's frame and landed on the parking lot. With talons clacking noisily on the asphalt, the thing charged straight at the two muscle goddesses. Wendy grinned and stepped forward, stretching her arms in front of her with her hands clasped together. When the trampling terror was in range, she swung her arms like a thickly muscled baseball bat and smacked the abbie's flank hard enough to make the beast literally explode in a cloud of abbie bits and pieces.
"Just one?" The lieutenant blasted her muscles in a sexy pose and moaned in fresh arousal. "Come on! I want more. MORE!"
A few seconds of relative silence. Then a deep rumble issued from the music hall, and more windows shattered. The columns supporting the building's wide exterior balcony shimmied and cracked. Exterior walls bulged. Then the whole damn building burst at the seams as a huge throng of shrieking abbies issued forth from within its undoubtedly hellish bowels.
The battle maidens crouched down, their fists held before them, ready and eager to play. The vicious grins on their faces would have split their heads in half if they stretched any wider.
It was almost as good as wild crater-blasting sex.
Abbies swarmed around and over the sexy muscle goddesses. Talons and spikes stabbed. Mandibles gnashed. Tentacles wrapped around bulging thighs and arms. The women were lifted off their feet and yanked in every direction like rag dolls being fought over by rabid dogs. They let themselves be flung around for a few minutes, reveling in their invulnerability. Abbies madly fought over them, ripping delicious muscle bodies free from crushing mandibles so they could attempt to bite them in half with their own. At one point Wendy found herself flying through the air and crashing into one the supporting towers of the Bakersfield arch that the tower and one end of the arch collapsed completely on top of her. She laughed deliriously as a fresh swarm of abbies dug furiously into the rubble, each one trying to claim the meaty prize for itself.
From within her own pile of abbies, the Commander yelled, "playtime is over, lieutenant! Smash these things now!"
Wendy grinned. She agreed with her Commander: it was definitely time for the tide to turn.
With a mighty battle roar, she rose up on her feet, with the arch rising up above her and great chunks of the tower rolling off her massive body. She shot her arms upward and sunk her fingers into the steel frame of the arch. Yanking backward, she ripped the arch free from its remaining support tower. Then she began to spin around on her feet, spinning the great arch around her like the blade of a rotary lawn mower. Faster and faster she spun as the arch-blade smashed through the waves of screaming abbies, slicing them into crunchy cutlets. About one-third of the arch broke off and sailed in the direction of the Commander, who caught it and began using it to beat the snot out of the wailing monstrosities surrounding her.
Wailing monstrosities continued to pour out of the wrecked music hall, far more than could possibly have fit inside the building itself. Huge talons clattered noisily on the ravaged ground as the abbies poured onto and over the sexy battle maidens. Once there, the beasts flew into the air or exploded into shards as they came into contact with punching fists and kicking feet. Consumed with battle-induced destructlust, Wendy grabbed whatever was handy to smash against the flood of creatures. Great chunks of the arch, the buildings, even the ground around her became weapons to smash and bash the target-rich environment. Elsewhere in the melee, the Commander did likewise. No way was she going to let her lieutenant out-smash her and have all the fun!
As the tide of attacking abbies thinned, the Commander started to work her away toward the great rubble pile that was still oozing the nasty creatures. Behind her were great heaps of carnage. The muscles goddess was visibly panting, not from exhaustion but from the extreme battle lust that threatened to smash her wavering self-control. She could hear her lieutenant screaming in lusty battle fury at the top of her lungs as she decimated her own horde of mutant bugs.
"Lieutenant! Wrap it up and get over here!"
There was a great crash from the Wendyward direction, then she burst through a wall of abbie chunks and skidded to a stop next to her Commander. The lieutenant was also panting visibly. The Commander looked past her delicious companion and saw twitching talons and tentacles protruding from an enormous chunk of the parking lot that had been ripped up and then brought down hard on a whole group of particularly unfortunate abbies.
"MORE," she moaned. But the flood had stopped, and all was quiet again, save for the occasional creaks and crashes of the newly created wreckage all around them. Wendy clenched and unclenched her fists. Her nipples (like those of her Commander) were so erect they threatened to burst through the fabric of her leotard.
The Commander put her hands on her hips and stood to face the ruined music hall. "There must be one hell of a cavern under there. Follow me."
The mighty redhead dove into the rubble pile like it was a swimming pool. Arms and legs moving so fast they were nearly a blur, she cut her way downward like a buzz saw, with a huge cloud of sawdust and metal shards erupting above her. Wendy leaped into the cloud and giggled when she landed right on her Commander's back. She literally rode downward on her superior's massively muscled back as if the latter were a descending elevator platform.
The two of them suddenly dropped into a vast space and crashed down amidst an avalanche of rubble. There was not much light to see by, just what manage to spear in through gaps in the wreckage surrounding the hole they just made, as well as other holes that must have been the abbies' original exit points.
They looked around, and the Commander saw what she had expected to see: cocoons. Many cocoons. A vast sea of them in all directions. Disappearing into the darkness and likely far beyond.
"Bakersfield, population underground," the Commander muttered.
"How are we going to get all these out?" Wendy asked, a plaintive edge in her voice.
"We're not, lieutenant. They will have to stay put until we can mount a sufficiently large recovery team to retrieve them."
"From here I don't see any of the nasty dark ones, but they could be here too, further in."
The Commander sighed. "Yes, lieutenant, that bone-chilling thought occurred to me as well. At the moment, there is nothing we can—"
A loud crash resounded from the darkness behind the two battle maidens. They turned. Wendy clenched her fists again, and her muscles ballooned. The Commander just stood erect, her chest thrust out, fists on her hips.
It came at them like a freight train, smashing into their bodies so fast they did not have time to anchor themselves (which was not an instantaneous process). Wendy found herself blasted into the cavern wall just above a nearby field of cocoons. She hit the wall so hard her body actually embedded itself a meter into the solid rock. Chunks of rock and earth exploded outward around her and rained down on the cocoons below.
Some protruding part of the giant thing struck the Commander at an angle that sent her body rocketing skyward like a golf ball. She crashed straight through the cavern ceiling and the wrecked building above. The huge wailing monstrosity (at least twice as big as the abbies they had encountered so far) lifted its head, and two bulbous globes that must be eyes followed the sailing Commander's path. Then the giant gathered itself and leaped. Its tremendous bulk shot straight up through the hole that the two women had made on their way down and disappeared in the rubble above.
Blasting her mighty arms backward, Wendy propelled herself out of the cavern wall and landed catlike on her feet. Then her massive thighs propelled her in a mighty leap straight up, following the path of the great beast that had surprised them.
When she emerged from the top of the wreckage, Wendy saw the immense abbie grab the Commander with one pair of mandibles, give her a fierce shake, then fling her against a nearby concrete boulder so hard that it shattered into a mist of fine rubble. Then it charged into that rubble for another attack.
Wendy leaped again. While in mid-flight, she beheld something remarkable.
The great creature reared back on its many talons and shot something from the middle of the hideous protuberance that served as its head. A glowing energy beam formed a narrow cone, its point seemingly down the abbie's throat, and the wide end completely enveloping the Commander's super muscle body. It lifted her high into the air. The Commander flailed her arms and legs, punching and kicking at the air around her. But there was nothing for her to punch or kick against. She could not break herself free.
Wendy landed square on the creature's back, and her legs locked around its heavily scaled neck. Her huge leg muscles bulged with power as she squeezed, and she raised her mighty arms, fingers laced together into a meaty wrecking ball, to rain unstoppable destruction down upon the brute's ugly head.
The energy beam disappeared after Wendy's combined fists plunged deep into the thrashing abbie's skull for the third time. Her legs slowly scissored shut, holding her tight on the great bucking bronco. She could feel the thick bones of the beast's neck snapping and breaking between her thighs and found it an especially powerful turn-on. Her mighty thighs came together, completely severing the head from the body.
The Commander fell on her sexy ass, then got to her feet and brushed herself off. "Good job, lieutenant. I just hope you did not destroy whatever is inside it that emitted that beam. We need to study it. That damn beam had me effectively imprisoned. The new prison sphere back at base might already be obsolete before you even get a chance to play with it."
Wendy smiled as she stood erect and started wiping abbie carnage off her own body. The beast's head slumped in front of her: a new trophy for her mighty muscles to gloat over. "I figured you'd want it, Commander! I think I just smashed its brain, not the beamy thing. Ewwwwww …" She made a show of wiping icky stuff off her hands, forearms, and thighs.
At least she is not as squeamish as she used to be, the Commander thought with a brief smile. She's turning into quite the warrior. Poor dear!
"You think this one was, like, an abbie 'queen', Commander?"
"Certainly possible. We still have a lot to learn about these things. Anway, I've seen enough. There is no more the two of us can accomplish here by ourselves. Whatever is down there, we need to leave it all behind, return to base, and prepare a full recovery force. Let's go."
The Commander steeled herself for the expected argument regarding the possible dark cocoons and the likely suffering captives within. But no such argument was forthcoming. Her lieutenant simply picked up the giant abbie head and stood next to her superior, looking around at all the carnage and destruction. Wendy looked rather silly with the giant jaws hanging open above her head. It brought to the Commander's mind a monster in some really old low-budget movie she had watched a while ago. She had to fight to suppress the fit of laughter that threatened to well up within her.
The two triumphant battle beauties turned and headed out of the ruins the way they had come in. At first, Wendy carried her beastly trophy above her head, its massive jaws snapping open and shut with each step. But soon the little girl took over, and the abbie head became a source of a most unseemly amusement. Digging her mighty fingers into the joints where the lower jaw met the upper, the lieutenant began to work the monstrous mouth like a sock puppet.
"RAAAAARRRR!!! EAT YOU ALL UP!!!" **Poke** **Stab**
The loopy lieutenant gnawed at her Commander's delicious body with the giant fangs as the latter tried (and mostly failed) to stay calm and cool. The Commander was still high on accumulated battle lust, and it was damn tempting to grab one of those huge fangs and ram it right up her own …
The muscle goddesses turned a corner and found themselves facing yet another tide of abbies. However, this mob completely ignored the gawking duo. It just rushed past them from who-knows-where, in a continuous stream of clacking mandibles and talons before hooking a left turn and heading up the highway offramp that the busty heroines were heading for.
In the distance, up on the highway where the Expedition vehicles were parked, the sounds of battle boomed and crashed like a violent thunderstorm.
"Holy CRAP!!!" Wendy shouted.
The Commander broke into a run, injecting her massive body into the stream of mutant beasts, sending abbies (whole and in large chunks) flying left and right as she battled her way up the offramp. Wendy dropped her gruesome trophy and sprinted behind her superior, weaving side to side so she could add her own unstoppable fists and thighs to the destruction of stampeding monstrosities.
They crested the top of the offramp and the battle came into view. The Commander skidded to a halt, her feet digging deep ruts in the asphalt. The lieutenant smacked right into her Commander's wide, muscular back before she managed to come to a complete stop as well.
The two of them gaped at the unfolding battle. They just stood there, because their assistance was evidently not needed.
Soldiers in full battle armor, along with armored robot infantry, massed around the parked vans and obliterated the oncoming abbies with uncanny precision. The howling monstrosities hurled themselves forward, only to become reduced to blazing chunks of mutant-meat by the soldiers' heavy rifles and/or wrist-mounted energy beams. Their coordination was exquisite - no beast managed to get its deadly talons near any of the parked vans.
The two newcomers stood at the top of the offramp and watched the battle with undisguised awe. Eager for a better view, the Commander dashed forward and leaped on top of one of the vans to get a better view of the action. Her ever-loyal sidekick quickly joined her there. From their excellent vantage point, they cheered their soldiers on and enjoyed the fireworks.
While some of the armored soldiers surrounded the vans on the ground, others soared through the air in a roughly circular formation, picking off attacking abbies from above as opportunities presented themselves. The mechfighter suits did not actually fly. Instead, they were propelled through the air through the air by brief thrusts from energy beams emitted from their wrists and the soles of their feet. A skilled soldier could use the beams to shoot himself upward and/or sideways, then briefly switch the emitted beam from repulse to incinerate just long enough to take out a target or two. Then as he began to fall, he would switch one or more of the beams back to repulse and shoot himself heavenward again.
One such soldier slowly came down from above and settled gently on top of the van next to the Commander and her lieutenant. This particular mechfighter had a most noticeable hourglass shape to fit nicely around its shapely occupant.
"What the fuck are you two just standing around for?" the statuesque mechfighter boomed at them with an electronically amplified voice. "Lazy good-for-nothing BUMS!"
The Commander grinned and turned to face the mechfighter, who had steel fists firmly planted on wide steel hips. The muscle goddess raised her hand and hooked a thumb toward the city behind them. "Sergeant, we had our fun back there! I am sure that you believe you and your clown posse were all righteous ass-kickers here, but my lieutenant and I took out at least a hundred times this many, with nothing but our bare fists! And you should watch who you're calling a bum. I could flatten you with a mere twitch of my wrist."
The Commander flexed her muscles proudly, her biceps and triceps ballooning larger than bowling balls. Inside her battle suit, Amy DiCaprio could not suppress a low moan. She wanted dearly to reach out and grope those muscles again, grind against them. But the mechfighter suit presently encasing her would greatly diminish the experience.
Behind the Commander, Wendy gasped. "Oh crap, my head! I left it behind …"
The lieutenant leaped from the van's roof and dashed back down the offramp, detouring from the straight path yet again to kick abbie remains into smaller pieces.
"Her head?" Amy asked as she gazed down at the receding lieutenant.
"Yes, sergeant, you know our lieutenant. Always losing her head." The Commander stood with her arms folded under her chest and scanned the scene. Around her, the battle was quickly petering out as the stream of abbies coming up the offramp had become just a trickle. Many of them had been unlucky enough to encounter the stomping Wendyzilla along the way, suffering terminal collisions with her fists or feet as a result.
The sergeant gazed down at the scene around her, very satisfied with the results. She barked out orders, and the soldiers briskly switched roles from defenders to clean-up crew, clearing carnage from around the vans so they would have room to turn around and depart. The Commander continued to stand and appreciate her very capable staff sergeant. It required considerable willpower to refrain from peeling that armor off her and using her as a moaning sex toy right then and there. Fucking invulnerable now! Oh, the fun we're going to have …
A short time later, the mechfighters were stowed back in their carriers, the soldiers had returned to their respective vehicles, and the sergeant had removed her own battle suit and re-donned her fatigues. After finding a place to stash Wendy's ugly trophy, the three women climbed into the cab of the lead vehicle. Wendy scrambled across the Commander's lap and planted herself in the middle. Her hands were already pawing at her flanking companions' thighs as Amy, biting her lip, powered up the huge van and swung it around in a big 180-degree circle. The van could not exactly turn on a dime, and the tires on its right rode up on some of the debris that had been shoved to the side of the road. The abbie bones and chunks of armor crunched loudly under the massive wheels nearly as deliciously as if the lieutenant had been out there stomping it to bits. But right now that lieutenant was in the cab with only two things in mind: the delicious bodies to either side of her. The Commander, utterly consumed (like her lieutenant) with that crazy battle lust that simply was not going to dissipate all by itself, had abandoned her usual businesslike demeanor and was fighting her lieutenant for prime Amy real estate.
The lead van proceeded down the road, passing the other vehicles in the convoy as they lined up to make the same U-turn and follow their leader. For perhaps half a minute, Echo Alpha Zero-Zero-One manage to chart a reasonably straight southern course along the recently cleared northbound lanes of Highway 99. Then the huge van began to swerve from side to side. The remaining vans matched the swerves in the mistaken belief that the lead vehicle was avoiding obstacles on the road. Then the driver of Zero-Zero-Two caught a clue and ceased his swerving, a big grin spreading across his face. Just in time, too: Zero-Zero-One suddenly made a dash directly toward the center divider. Its right front corner scraped against the old battered concrete, then the van screeched to a halt. The driver side door opened. No, the driver side door exploded. It shot sideways as if it had been blasted out of a truck door cannon. The helpless chunk of metal sailed hundreds of meters, then cartwheeled across a ravaged parking lot until it embedded itself in the burned-out hulk of a UPS truck. Not far behind came two lust-crazed muscle goddesses, each carrying one end of a screaming, moaning staff sergeant.
Two pairs of unstoppable hands tore the sergeant's fatigues away in shreds. When they reached a bare patch of parking lot, the Commander slammed her end of their delicious chew toy down on the asphalt so hard that cracks radiated outward from the busty blonde's invulnerable body. Her lieutenant slammed her end down likewise. Then the two strongest and horniest women in the Republic of California (as far as they knew, anyway) dove in for an earth-shattering feast.
Several hours (and several parking lot craters) later, the convoy resumed its southward progress, with its lead vehicle missing its driver-side door, and the driver staring dreamily ahead, her lower lip caught behind her upper teeth. Sergeant Amy DiCaprio, wearing her one remaining backup outfit, had just one thing on her mind: returning to base and spending some more "down time" with the two mighty muscle goddesses. She gripped the steering wheel tight as she willed herself to pay attention to the road ahead.
Where her fingers squeezed, the strong metal within the vinyl-wrapped steering wheel began to deform. Just a little bit.