The Story of Christina McCallister, Part 1
[Tuesday, 24 June 1997 09:36] Last updated by :: [Thursday, 15 May 2014 10:58]
The Story of Christina McCallister, Part One
Route 675 wound through cities, countries, and alien nations of unknown parts. It laced a winding path through central Maine and upper parts of New Hampshire and Vermont.
From desolate barns to fields stretching for eternity; from sky-reaching buildings to small homely diners; and from business to home route 675 brought travelers, tourists, and business men from and to their destinies.
Early morning of June 15, ‘98
Christina McCallister was driving home from a late night with her boyfriend Chris Credence, the local pool shark and ex-marine. Only eleven miles on a stretch of 675 lie between her and home and bed. Her jet black Nexus raced along the winding road at speeds in excess of 80mph; the new speed limit in ‘98. She was never one for breaking the sound barrier. She wasn’t speeding, and she was maintaining the street very well. So why in God’s name was this iron gray unmarked police car following close behind? She easily fingered the officer in pursuit two miles back when he pulled out from behind some small shrubs. Why was he following her?
She glanced in the mirror again, briefly catching a glimpse of her own tired eyes while spying the pursuing car behind her. She was an incredibly attractive girl and wouldn’t be surprised if the officer was just harassing her.
Long blonde hair like golden sun spilled down her perfect shoulders, framing a beautiful and flawless face. It was arrow-straight and soft as silk and glistened when catching the sunlight rays. Her eyes were deeply haunting, penetrating, and able to melt any man with a single look.
She wore a white blouse and tight black jeans. Her figure was stunning and deservedly worthy to be proud of. She was physically fit, well built for her age of 23. She wasn’t very muscular, but her body was firm and faultless in every way, impeccable in every nook and cranny. She was well tanned by the summer sun to absolute perfection. Not one centimeter of skin had been untouched.
Her every facet emanated beauty and grace. And that grace was momentarily blemished as her impatience with the car pursuing her peaked. He would occasionally tailgate, drop back, and tailgate again. Christina flipped the mirror up so as not to be blinded by his headlights.
And just at that instant he flashed his high beams once. Christina was unsure of what to do. He continued flashing and approached her again, the nose of his car seemingly in her trunk. She eventually decided to pull over. She had broken no laws and although a bit uncomfortable in this circumstance, she was not worried about getting a ticket.
A tall man stepped from the iron-gray car and approached, flashlight gleaming in her back window.
“Hello officer.” She said, looking into the black shadow behind the blinding flashlight he shined in her face. “Is there something wrong?”
“Yes ma’am, I’d like you to step from the car please.” He beckoned with his hands, backing away from the door.
“Officer, I …”
“Please ma’am, step out of the car.” He spoke with a deep authority, a menacing tone.
As she got out she noticed he wasn’t wearing a uniform. Instead he wore a midnight black blazer and mauve tie, crimson slacks and a dark green trench coat. She ignored his off beat wardrobe, more concerned with who he was. She immediately knew her first mistake was stepping from the car. He was wearing black gloves.
In the gleam of his flashlight she saw graying hair slicked back over a high forehead and a sweeping mustache. His expression was emotionless. His eyes were dead cold, the eyes of a mannequin.
“Ma’am, my name is Jess Jericho. I work for the FBI.” He flashed a badge in her face she barely saw before he re-pocketed it. The flashlight lowered, and his black eyes swept over her entire figure, lingering on those long perfect legs; the curves of her skin against the tight jeans she wore.
“FBI?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
“Things, ma’am. Strange things. We’re investigating the recent disappearance of a fully loaded truck transporting petroleum along this stretch of road to the Gamin & Mills Plant on exit 56.”
“What does this have to do with me?” she asked, puzzled.
“Ma’am,” Please stop calling me ma’am, she thought angrily. “To where and why are you traveling this road during these hours? It’s a bleak time of the morning to be out driving around now.”
“I’m on my way home from my boyfriend’s.” she told him, growing impatient with this asshole and wishing he’d leave her alone. “Why am I being interrogated like this?”
“Ma’am, I have probable cause to apprehend you under a suspicion of fowl play. Would you open your trunk?”
“The trunk, ma’am, the trunk! Open you damned trunk!” He pushed her against the car, stepping in against her, those silk strips of hair brushing his cheek. He smelled her perfume; an exquisite scent arousing his every desire.
Her struggle was brief; she didn’t know what hit her or why she was assaulted like this. Her first instinct was to scream, but he stifled her lips with his agile hands, slapping one over her mouth and the other around her neck.
He wrestled her to the rear of the car and with one swift blow knocked her to the cold ground unconscious. Switching of the ignition and taking her key chain, he unlocked the trunk and threw her in, slamming it shut hastily.
Jess Jericho then proceeded to get in the car. He started the ignition, threw the car into drive, made a wide sweeping U-turn, and drove off into the gray sky of a slowly dawning horizon.
Later the same day …
“What do you mean she never came home?”
Chris Credence stood baffled, framed in the door leading into Lisa Flessenger’s warmly furnished apartment. Lisa was Christina’s roommate and best friend.
“I thought she was staying the night with you …”
In Lisa’s voice was a shock just as easily disturbing as Chris’.
“No, she left around one this morning. Said she had to get home. Needed sleep before today’s photo shoot.”
“That’s today?” Lisa asked.
“Yes, we’ve been planning this day for months. Have you forgotten? Today at five.”
“Why didn’t she just stay over your place?”
Lisa, come on. Do you think we’d had gotten any sleep? Five hours in bed last night was phenomenal. I’ve never met anyone like her. So where the hell is she?”
“Beats me.” Lisa shrugged her shoulders. She was a small girl with flaming red hair and startling green eyes. Her beauty was the equal of Christina’s, but she always had the more sexy voice. She wore nothing but a silk shirt, revealing a disturbingly gorgeous body. But Chris was not concerned with her ravishing attributes. Christina was just as lovely, and she was missing.
“Can I …” he thought, not wanting to ask, but needing to at the same time, “… use your phone?”
“Sure.” Lisa backed up and Chris swept by her.
He was short and built like a brick shit house; thick muscled arms and a barrel chest. He was ten years older than Christina. His black hair was combed neatly back over his ears. Chris had a fetish for neatness.
Christina had no family, just Lisa and himself. No one would know for sometime had something happened to her. He thought as he dialed, Christ I hope nothing happened.
The line rang, crackling into life, and somewhere in the back of his mind was a harbinger of doom fearing the worst.
Chris always trusted his instincts. He was an ex-marine, trained in bloody combat and skilled in dealing with death. Loss was nothing uncommon to him, but he had long left behind any trace of the service. His photography was his life. And without Christina he knew that life would be barren and empty.
He fingered the engagement ring in his pocket, fumbling with it in his trembling hands. Shit! Why didn’t he ask her last night? God damn it!
A voice on the other side answered.
“Springwater Police Department. How may I help you?”
“Yes,” Chris stuttered, “I’d like to know if there were any … automobile accidents reported in the ten hours …”
“Please hold.” The bodiless voice left the line. Static twittered meaningless gibberish on the empty connection.
Oh Christ please don’t let there be any!
“Yes sir,” the voice returned, “there are no accident reports in my records. Just a recovered stolen car found on Rt.675 near exit 56.”
Oh thank God, Chris breathed.
“Thank you.” he replied and hung up.
“Why didn’t you report her missing?” Lisa asked.
Chris turned on her quickly, raising his thick arms in a gesture of hopelessness. He ran a hand through his black hair.
“Someone needs to be missing 24 hours before you can report them missing.” Chris corrected her. “It’s only been 12 hours since she left this morning.”
He breathed a deep sigh, thinking in silence about what to do. Where could she be?
“I’m going to take a ride.” He said, pointing off into some distance while walking towards the door.
“I’ll go with you.” Lisa said.
Just then a thunderous knock crashed against the front door. It shuddered in its frame, as though some demon from hell were trying to break it down.
Lisa jumped, startled from the powerful knocking on her door.
Chris approached the door, glancing through the peep hole while reaching for the knob. He saw two men in black suits and nicely pressed shirts wearing blood crimson ties and green trench coats. They were nicely groomed and looked like twins.
Chris opened the door slowly.
The two men towered over him, both well above six foot tall and heavily muscled beneath that business attire. They were twins, identical in every way; slick red hair, trimmed mustache, and a diamond earring in their left ear.
“Yes, can I help you?” he asked.
They stood with palms folded in front of them, cold expressions like stone on their rock edged faces. Chris surmised both men to be at least as strong as three average athletes. They were immediately a challenge to him, menacing in every way.
“I’m Scott Gypsy.” said the man on his left, extending a hulking hand to shake. “And this is Kevin Gypsy, my brother. We’re with the bureau of federal investigation. We’d like to ask you a few questions.” He flashed a badge with a lightning stroke of his free hand.
Chris accepted the handshake and offered his own to Kevin, but Scott stepped through the door and pushed past him taking Kevin with him. Chris backed off, respecting not only their credentials as federal officers but also their incredible size.
“Sure.” He answered, “What’s this all about?” Chris glanced over to Lisa who shrugged again. This was her apartment. Why were they here?
Scott looked around the apartment, his gaze falling on every facet from the kitchen to the cobwebs in the corner. Kevin stood, palms crossed in front like a military officer, behind Lisa. His eyes focused on her unbelievable figure; the eye inviting curves and flawless skin beneath the silk night shirt she wore. He felt warm inside, desire building as he skimmed her every attribute. She was the most incredible woman he’d ever seen.
“We’re looking for a Christina McCallister. Do you know her?”
Chris was immediately drawn to Scott’s question, forgetting about Kevin’s wandering eyes on Lisa.
“Yes, she’s my girlfriend. Why? Has something happened to her?”
“No.” Scott held up a hand of assurance. “Nothing. Has she any family? Any next of kin?”
“No …” Chris paused, confused completely. “Why these questions about Chrissy? Has she done something wrong?”
“Has she any friends?” Scott asked, ignoring his question.
“Just me … and her.” He said, looking toward Lisa again whose fabulous body was still drawing the attention of Kevin Gypsy.
“And she is …?”
“Lisa Flessenger.” Lisa said quickly. “I’m Christina’s best friend. Is she OK?”
“Thank you.” Scott said with no compassion. “You’ve helped us a great deal.”
He nodded curtly to Kevin.
Chris turned to Lisa.
“No …” he spat out but was cut off as Scott quickly wrapped his strong hands around his throat and mouth and wrestled him to the floor. Lisa stifled a cry as Kevin landed a swift blow against the back of her neck.
She crumpled in a useless heap.
Chris tried to wrest the powerful grip which held him solidly on the floor. He grabbed at Scott’s wrist, but his attempt was futile. Kevin was on him in seconds, landing a crushing blow into his stomach. Pain-fire stole away his breath, the only source of his strength, and Chris lost sense of reality.
A second blow to his head left him swirling in black oblivion.
Mid-morning June 18, ‘98
“Good morning.” said a cool voice in the darkness.
Christina McCallister awoke slowly from the deep pit of sleep. She had the slightest clue where she was and what had happened to bring her there. Bright light penetrated the blackness, and she opened her eyes, blinded and weak.
She didn’t know where the bodiless voice came from. She only knew she couldn’t move. She looked down and saw the iron belts clasping her wrists, ankles, and chest to a steel operating table of some sorts. She was at a standing level, the bed tipped forward so she could look into the eyes of the source of that deep voice.
“Good morning.” he said again. He approached her casually. He was a bald man somewhere around fifty, wearing a white lab coat and off beat tie. He sported a light tan beard over a stark white face. And the rest of his skin was equally pale.
“Who are you?” Christina asked weakly, still numb and unsure of what had happened. She thought she was dreaming. Was this some unknown nightmare world she had found in her sleep? Where was this place? What was this place?
She looked around. Her assumed prison was a small cubicle room with cold metal walls; four of them. It was stuffy with little oxygen and dreary, a thundering silence her only clue that she was alive. And she wasn’t sure of that either. Maybe she was in hell.
“My name is Jarod Pincott. This is my lab. And your prison for the next several days.” He smiled, as though this were an every day thing for him. Now she knew she was dreaming, yet she didn’t feel as though she were asleep. She felt wide awake not, threatened by this menacing figure named Pincott who held her prisoner.
“What do you mean prisoner? Where the hell am I?” She wriggled in her shackles, fear welling inside her. Her blood prickled as she thought she felt something squirm through her insides.
“Christina” He smiled again, rubbing his hands together as though preparing for a feast. “You are my destiny. When I look at you I see success. I see untold fortunes of scientific research. You will be my guinea pig.”
“What?” Now this had gone too far. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you some fucking sicko!?”
This time he laughed.
“Oh God no. I’m a genius. And you, with no family or next of kin, will help me achieve the status of a God.” A devilish smile spread across his face. “There is no one to miss you. No one to come looking for you. Just a macho boyfriend and best friend. And I’ve already taken care of them.”
Christ, he was a sicko!
“You bastard! You have to let me go. This is against my rights! I didn’t consent to some freak experiment! Let me go.” She wrestled with her shackles again, a useless attempt. Her silk tresses fluttered around her beautiful face. Pincott caught himself watching her sweet figure as she struggled against the bonds. He was amused by her struggles with the two inch thick iron belts which held her secure.
She wore only the white blouse she was abducted in, and it did little to conceal her perfect chest and did nothing to conceal her absolutely stunning legs. Her skin was beautifully tan, an immaculate golden brown soft and
faultless. She was gorgeous.
“Please stop resisting. You’ll see I’m actually making you better. Life will be better for you. A good paycheck. A new name and identity; a better one at that. And although you will remain absolutely stunning as you are now, no man will ever take advantage of you.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t want to stay here. What have you done with my friends?” She was furious with this madman, this sick bastard pig who kept her here. The more pain which boiled through her nerves while she struggled against her bonds the more she realized she wasn’t dreaming. This was reality. Some sick, deranged reality.
“Christina.” Pincott reached into his snow white, lab coat pocket and pulled out a large needle, the point capped. It contained a purplish liquid. “I’m going to inject you with my new medicine. It will make you a better person. You’ll work for us and our agency.”
“What? What agency? What liquid?” Her eyes widened in stark fear. “Let me go you fucking quack!!”
“After the injection you will sleep. In your bloodstream this medicine will evoke a fierce energy. It will feed your heart in turn pumping the concoction throughout your entire body feeding every muscle. Don’t worry. They won’t grow. You won’t be a thick, mass of bulging muscle.”
“What are you doing?!”
“You’ll look just like you do now.” He continued, ignoring her every plea. “You’ll just have the strength of five average men. We will erase every memory of your previous life. We will then train you to be a killer; a killer trained to defend your country at any cost. You’ll be a killing machine.”
He took a step closer, anticipating the moment to stick her. He plucked off the cap and squirted a stream of purple medicine into the thin air. He tapped the needle.
“No you sick …!!!” She screamed.
She was cut off as he covered her mouth and buried the needle into her throat; into her carotid artery.
Seconds later she blacked out.
Pincott tossed away the needle in a sterile trash bag and approached the main door. He pressed a few buttons on the keypad, and the huge iron doors parted, a grinding hiss of incoming air filling the room as they opened. He closed them behind him in the same fashion.
He took three steps and approached the second barrier, a monstrous gate with inch thick steel bars. Unlocking the gate with a few minor coeds on another keypad, the gate swung back.
Pincott hastily closed the gate and approached the main exit. He pressed a thumbprint against the pad beside the door, and it opened.
“Thank you Mr. Pincott.” said a female computerized voice as the thick armor-plated door swung back. “Have a nice day.”
The guard outside stood before him, armed with an automatic rifle. He wore black coveralls and a military beret with an insignia on the front of a green flag.
“Lieutenant Miller.” said Pincott. The guard saluted, and he returned it. “Do your duty. No one is to pass this entrance. No one. She’ll wake up in about ten hours. I’ll return then.”
“Yes sir.” The guard paused. “Will she remain secure upon awakening, sir?”
“Yes Lieutenant. There’s about seventy inches total of thick, armor-plated metal in all confining her to that room. I’m sure even the belts,” he laughed “will keep her secure. She won’t be that strong.”
“Yes sir.” said Miller.
Somewhere near 5.30 that evening
“Lisa.” A disembodied voice called, shaking her. “Lisa. Wake up. It’s Chris. Chris Credence.” He shook her awake. “Come on Lisa. Bloody wake up already!”
His persistent whispering eventually paid off. Lisa slowly returned to the world of the living. Her lovely eyes flickered open, bringing life to that sweet face.
Chris brushed aside the long tresses of flaming red hair that fell in her face. She glanced up at him, tired and dazed.
“What happened?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. We’re in some kind of holding cell. Those two guys somehow managed to kidnap us right from your apartment. Remember? Who the hell were they?” Chris clenched his fists, anger welling up inside.
“Damn if I know.” Lisa replied, rubbing her swollen head.
“Well,” he looked around the small prison cell. “We’ve got to find some way out of here.” He saw one iron door leading out into God knows what. It seemed that would be the only way out.
Why were they locked in here in the first place? Chris immediately resorted to his training. He had no other choice but to survive. The Gypsy twins said they were federal officers. They even had credentials. Crooked, maybe? Maybe the bureau was corrupt in some parts. He was grasping at straws.
“Lisa, listen. I’m going to get us out of here.”
“I hope so. Why are we here? What did those men want?” Her eyes filled with tears, streaming down her blushed cheeks. She wasn’t accustomed to being held captive against her will. She wasn’t ready for this. What had she done to deserve this.
Christ, she could hardly think. Her head filled with pain; a deep throbbing pain in her temples. She sat on the cold stone floor, head in her hands. Chris sought furtively for some idea of escape from this hell.
A click … The iron door fell back and a short, gruff man entered.
He wore a nicely pressed pin-stripe suit; gray with a navy blue bolo tie. He wore snake skin boots which looked out of place on this short, little man with thinning brown hair atop a pudgy head. As he entered Chris caught a glimpse of light beneath his jacket. He was carrying a weapon; a firearm probably loaded.
“Hi folks.” He spoke lightly, almost as though their state of mind did not concern him. Almost as though he didn’t care who or what they were; only that they were his prisoners. “How are we feeling today?”
“Pretty low down.” Chris replied. “How would you feel to be assaulted by two overweight, underpaid professional wrestlers, knocked unconscious, and locked away in a prison cell for no goddamn reason?!”
“Tsk, Tsk.” He chuckled, pursing his lips. “Naughty. Naughty. I am your host. Is that any way to speak to your host for the evening?”
“Little pudgy boy.” Chris said, flustered but maintaining his focus on the little man. He used poignant insults instead of fierce profanities, hoping to upset his new found opponent. Fowl language would get him no where.
“Ha!” the little man laughed. “You fucking jerk, I could kill you right now.” He pulled out the piece, a .45 caliber automatic pistol with a silencer. “You are here for a reason. If you could see past your own incompetence you’d see the glory of this whole situation. You probably think you’re surrounded by freaks in a highly guarded facility. But you’re wrong.”
“What ?” Chris asked, baffled by the little man’s response to his insult. “What are you talking about? All I know is we’ve been locked up for no reason!”
“There is reason though. Look!” He pointed out the door. “No guards! We’re not terrorists. We know what we’re doing. We’re making this a better country; a more peaceful place to live and raise a family. We have goals. Your purpose here will be revealed.”
He pointed the pistol at Chris’ head; the barrel pressed against his right temple.
“No, please.” said Lisa.
“But … I’m not going to kill you. You have purpose. You will be the first test subjects in the hunt. You will be killed by the hunter we have created. She will dissect you.” He smiled, letting it sink in.
“OK.” he sighed. Chris had enough. It was time for action.
Like snake lightning Chris’ right hand swept up in a streaking arc and struck the little man’s wrist holding the pistol. His fingers closed over the wrist with crushing force. The little man gasped in pain, but he didn’t react fast enough.
Ripping through silence like a screaming sword Chris’ other hand shot out with a deadly knife edge and buried itself deep into the little man’s throat. He fell back against the wall, gasping for air. His crushed larynx was useless. Chris unleashed again with his right knife edge slicing across the little man’s right eyebrow. His head smacked back against the wall with a sodden splat.
Chris landed a final blow with a double knife edge against his chest, crushing the little man’s lungs. He collapsed, dropping the gun with a loud clatter.
Chris picked up the weapon and reached for Lisa.
“Come on.” He said, taking her hand.
She was stunned in silence. The little man lay crippled against the wall, defeated easily by Chris with deadly accuracy and smoking speed.
They ran from the cell down a narrow hallway.
No time to lose.
Same evening around 6.00
Christina woke up an hour earlier then Pincott had expected.
She was still strapped to the operating table, lying in a supine position on her back. The blinding light had been switched off, and the dim ceiling light cast an eerie incandescent gleam across the silent room.
Christina looked around. No one was in the room with her. She was alone. For the first time she realized the skimpy attire they had left her with; just her wrinkled blouse. Her fabulous body was nearly completely nude. The eerie gleam from the ghostly light above cast shadows across her bare skin.
Her breasts were firm, the nipples hard from being pressed against the cold iron of the belt which crossed her chest. The iron shackles on her wrists and ankles were ice cold as well. A tingling sensation swept through her skin.
What had he injected her with? They were going to make her stronger? She found the idea arousing; the idea of being stronger but just as beautiful with no rippling muscles. But the idea of them forcing it on her was not arousing. And that feeling helped quell her temporary passion. But a deeper passion did burn within her; a passion to be stronger than any of them who held her captive.
She desired a profound strength great enough to help her escape.
She wondered for a moment if the effects of Pincott’s medicine had taken control yet. She wondered if her strength had increased as he said it would. Against these inch thick iron shackles the strength of five average men would never be enough. But she had to try, just to satisfy her burning passion. Imagine being stronger than any man. The idea sent shivers through her enchanting body.
Clenching her fists, Christina pulled up slowly against the shackles which held her wrists to the table. She didn’t expect them to snap or even relent their grip. And they didn’t.
She grew fierce and pulled with greater force, slowly increasing her strength in the struggle. The room filled with the sound of moaning metal. She closed her eyes and strained with every ounce of strength she supposedly had. The iron shackles easily ripped, torn from their bolts like melted cheese.
“Oh wow.” She gasped, suddenly breathing very heavy. Her chest heaved with every breath, and her firm breasts pushed against the iron belt across her chest. Not taking a second to regroup and think, Christina stretched her arms out to her sides and pushed her breasts against the iron belt with one heavy breath.
The iron bolts on each side broke free with a loud crash while the iron belt screamed in twisting agony, unable to resist the incredible strength her expanding chest exerted.
“Ooooo …” she cried softly, unbelievably aroused while pleasure cascaded through her trembling body. “That felt good.” She sat up slowly, relishing the feel of her blouse brushing against her nipples with every shift in weight. She felt her breasts as they rose and fall beneath each deep breath she took. She felt as though she were about to climax in seconds.
She looked at her arms, feeling the power that coursed through her body; the power that was giving her this super strength. She now felt far stronger that five average men. Pincott must have underestimated his medicine and its results.
She caressed her bare legs with her trembling hands, reaching down for the remaining shackles that held her ankles. When she took the iron in her grasp she squeezed, and it ground between her fingers like soft clay. Ecstasy rippled through her whole body as she effortlessly tore away the final bonds.
“Ooooo … God …” she cried out softly as she climaxed in slow, orgasmic fits right there on the table. “Oh yessssssssss …” She hissed like a passionate, unyielding rattle snake. She ran her fingers up beneath her blouse and caressed her heavenly body, ravishing herself in throes of sexual ecstasy. It was a ballet of strength and desire.
She had masturbated before but had never experienced such an intense feeling of overpowering sexual passion in her entire life. Slowly, delicately she sat up on the table and looked around. How on earth would she get out of here?
Yes she was strong; super human strength coursed through her every muscle, but the exit was far greater a challenge to any amount of strength than those iron shackles had proved.
Her body still alive from the passion of her escape and increased strength, Christina felt for a moment as though she could accomplish anything. She felt her arms, the power ripping through her skin in dizzying rivers of strength.
She even felt strong. She tensed herself and approached the huge iron doors, bolted shut by an air tight seal. She ran her fingers over the cold iron assuming it was more than likely at least three to four inches thick. Her strength was not enough likely to even menace the iron doors. But with several deep breaths to ready herself for the challenge, Christina felt a burning desire to use her strength to try.
She braced a petite hand against each door near the air tight slit where they met. With a deep breath, Christina pushed against both doors with everything she had, Her small, feminine arms grew rock solid and trembled with exertion. Her firm breasts pressed against the solid iron while she pushed with all her strength. Her entire body shuddered with pleasure and exhaustion.
She stepped forward with her left foot and leaned against the huge doors, applying incredible amounts of pressure. Slowly, inexorably, a small gust of air escaped from between a small crack between the doors, licking her heaving chest and tickling her. The air was icy cold and startled her.
Christina stepped back from her struggle to see the source of the breeze. She had broken the air tight seal. A small canyon was left between the iron doors where she had bent them out and away from each other. She had never realized the huge doors even moved. But somehow, with her phenomenal strength, Chrissy had split them apart slightly.
At this point she was so turned on again through realization that she was strong enough, so pumped with strength and energy from her struggle, that she felt like a goddess. She was still the image of startling beauty she had been, but her muscles throbbed with a stream of super strength. She ran her fingers through her silk blonde hair, pushing it back from her face, and braced her fingers in the small crack she had made between the doors.
“Oooo Chrissy, come on. You can do this.” She breathed heavy. “Nothing can stop you now. Nothing.” She exerted her every ounce of strength against the doors in an attempt to split them apart further. Closing her eyes, Christina threw back her head and ground her teeth together, breathing heavy and crying out in strain.
“Arrrgggghhhhhh!!!!” she screamed. The huge iron doors at first began to slowly twist back, grinding and crushing inward on themselves. Jagged canyons in the iron formed through both doors as they were easily pushed apart, hopelessly crushed. The room filled with sounds of screaming metal as it twisted and bent like molten steel. Christina stood framed between an empty diamond shaped opening she had made by pushing the iron doors apart. Unaware of the unstoppable strength coursing through her arms and her success, Christina continued pushing even though she had ripped open the doors enough to escape.
“Oh God …” she cried as pleasure streamed through her trembling body in rivulets. She strained further, struggling to speak, “Ooooooooo. I am sooo strong!” Orgasmic rivers burnt within her as her body, pumped with oceans of super strength, as she thrust her chest out against her blouse, arching her back. As she declared her unbelievable strength, Christina’s muscles pumped with enough power for one last push against the helpless, yielding doors. The iron walls bracing the doors, unable to resist her super strength, easily ripped and split, rent asunder and burst beneath the incredible force. The iron doors, now both useless, twisted piles of wreckage, fell away with no support and crashed to the cold metal floor.
Christina clenched her fists and stood transfixed by the devastation, breathing heavy. Her eyes were wide in amazement. Not only had she pushed apart the iron doors, but in her ecstasy of strength, Christina had also rent apart the entire wall of her prison. What phenomenal strength she possessed, and it only aroused her further. And her confidence blossomed as she saw the next barrier, the reinforced steel gate with inch thick steel bars. She almost laughed as the pleasure of knowing she could wrench these bars apart with one arm shot through her like ocean spray across a jetty.
To ravish her sexual arousal further Christina intended to do just that. She was a right handed girl so she seized a inch thick steel bar in her left hand, took a deep breath, and pulled slowly with all her strength. Mountains of pleasure erupted within her as the incredibly hard steel bar bent easily, unable to withstand her super strength. As the bar twisted and moaned in helpless surrender Christina continued pulling the useless strip of steel closer to its neighboring bar.
She enclosed her fingers around both steel bars. The straight and the bent, and still she pulled. The straight bar bent just as easily. The first bar she had rent apart snapped free from the gate. It ripped apart like soft clay; like thick, melted chains. The second bar began stretching uselessly as well by the time she wrapped her fingers around a third. Both steel bars pulled apart like mozzarella cheese, easily ripped asunder by her irresistible strength.
The third bar bent slowly as she pulled, still holding the three all together in her hand. She knew the steel gate could easily have bent apart quickly. But Christina savored her strength, slowly pulling it apart with one hand; one bar at a time. She could feel the great force of all three twisted bars she held as they tried in futility to resist her strength. She was incredibly aroused by the feeling of these steel bars trying to hold back from being pulled apart.
Still she slowly pulled them apart, relishing the orgasmic delight that rocked her body, knowing these bars could do nothing but bend. Her arm trembled as she reached the fourth bar. She grasped it and squeezed, compressing the four bars in her fingers into one solid mesh of crushed steel. Agonizingly slow, the fourth bar inexorably began bending, screaming in useless protest. Soon all four bars ripped free, stretching and tearing like play-do. She cast them aside, looking at the gate. It now stood with four of the inch thick steel bars missing, easily ripped from the gate by her super strength.
Christina was so turned on at this point she could hardly contain herself. Luckily for her, although she didn’t know, the walls were entirely sound proof. Her hands fell below her blouse, touching herself for a moment. She gazed at her own body, mesmerized that she was still so perfectly beautiful and sexy, and yet still so incredibly strong at the same time. She cried out in whispered gasps through her shuddering breaths, feeling waves of pleasure crash over her.
Using her strength to rip open the steel bars was not enough to satisfy her though. It turned her on so drastically that Christina needed to take it a step further. She stepped through the shattered gate and approached the armor plated door. It was latched shut by a powerful sealed lock inside the huge door itself which Christina could not see. This lock was unlatched only through thumbprint identification. Christina knew none of this but what did it matter anyway.
“Could this Pincott be anymore cautious?” she asked herself. She had already broken apart his two other exits easily. Underestimating the effects of his medicine, Pincott would never had expected Christina to be this strong. He probably thought all these locked doors would be enough to contain her. She smiled, thinking to herself how wrong he had been.
The huge iron door was braced on either side by thick armor plated steel walls at least three inches thick. There was a small window in the iron door shielded with a sliding metal door that was latched from without. The window was built low into the door, just below Christina’s chest level. This was the ultimate chance for her to see just how strong she was. She wasn’t sure if she could do it, but the image in her mind aroused her so much that she needed to lean against the wall and recollect herself. She took several deep breaths, caressed her abdomen beneath her blouse to contain the sexual excitement within her, and approached the door.
“OK Christina. You can do this. Nothing can stop you.” She breathed heavy, preparing for the incredible exertion she was about to undertake. She proudly pushed out her chest, stepped forward with her right leg, leaned against the iron door, and braced her hands on either side of the window at her chest level. “Oooooo Christina, if you can do this it’s going to feel soooooo good …” She took several deep breaths through her mouth, closed her eyes tight, and pushed against either side of the window with all her strength. She did not exert herself slowly this time. It was a sudden burst of strength.
She cried out in short winded gasps as rockets of sensation bombarded her very being. She was so incredibly strong. She felt the thick armor plated door resisting her strength, but she only felt a weak attempt on its part. Suddenly a deep groaning sound erupted from the inside the door. Her arms shuddered as a result of her terribly challenging endeavor. Could it be she wasn’t strong enough to rip the thick iron door in half?
And then she cried out a startled “Ohhhhhh …” as she felt the huge door succumb to her super strength. Passion welled up within her, and she felt herself getting very warm between her legs as she easily ripped the iron door in half. It was sudden. She pushed either side of the ripped door apart quickly like it were melting cheese, screaming in agonizing pain as it shredded to pieces, unable to resist the force which torn it in half. She was framed by the melted door, each exquisite hand grasping torn and mutilated iron in its super grip. Her arms pushed out from her sides further, and she cried out again.
“Oh yes!!” The three inch thick steel walls on either side of the door succumbed just as easily, splitting apart as she pushed against them. She closed her eyes and growled like an unstoppable beast pushing apart the impenetrable steel walls, relishing in the infinite strength that rippled through her unimaginably sexy body. Orgasms upon orgasms ripped through her. She exhaled deeply, purring like a satisfied pussy cat. “Oh Christina, so strong. Nothing can stop me.”
She felt her arms, the skin trembling beneath her touch from such exhaustion. Christina stepped through the twisted ruin of the steel wall and armor plated door she had ripped in half like a piece of paper.
Lieutenant Miller stepped out from the shadows, aiming his automatic rifle at her, prepared to fire if need be.
“Freeze! Don’t fucking move, you freak!” He aimed low, ready to pummel and tear that absolutely perfect chest to bloody ribbons. “Don’t make me shoot!” He approached her slowly, yet he still kept a healthy distance. He gazed in disbelief at the phenomenal destruction this disturbingly sexy woman had admonished against her prison. How could someone so perfectly gorgeous have such amazing strength? She was a blonde goddess. Her arrow straight blonde hair fell in her face as she looked angrily at him. It was damp from the sweat of her exhaustive feats. Her body, a deep golden brown and stunning in every curve, was damp as well. Those beautiful legs glistened in the over head lights, moist and flawless. Her cleavage was thoroughly displayed for her neck line had fallen open somewhat, and those lovely breasts pushing so firmly against her blouse were shimmering with sweat as well. The white blouse stained with sweat dropped off her shoulders a little.
Christina looked at this threat to her life. How would she survive this? She clenched her fists tightly, took a deep breath, and pushed out her chest. With such super human strength, who knows; she may well be invincible too. She took a step forward, facing the loaded weapon and the enemy who wielded it. She readied herself for the killing blow.
“Go ahead,” she said between deep breaths. “I dare you.”
Miller could barely contain himself. He was ready to jet cum all over his shorts from being so turned on by this super woman. He felt himself nearing a climax without even being touched. He eyed the wasteland of twisted steel behind her. She was so fucking strong. He had watched her tear that iron door and steel wall apart like it was nothing. That was nearly enough to make him cum.
But he couldn’t allow this monster to escape. Pincott had warned him. They could always find another test subject. Another victim.
He opened fire.
Christina breathed deeply, pushing out her chest, as each bullet struck her firmly. Sparks jetted through the hall. The clash and clang of ricocheting bullets filled Miller’s ears. As he watched on in stupefied horror, each bullet he fired bounced off that gorgeous chest as if striking an impenetrable wall. The rounds tore into her blouse, ripping it to shreds. Her chest heaved, and Christina smiled as she saw her super strength enhanced by absolute invincibility. She grew more aroused and smiled as Miller threw down his pointless weapon, his only means of defense against her.
“Your weapon is useless against me. I’m too strong.” She pouted with her lips and caressed herself in front of him. She ripped off the tattered remnants of her bullet torn blouse and cast them to the floor. She stood naked, her supremely beautiful body damp from the sweat of her exertions.
She picked up his gun and held it against her firm breasts. “Ooooooooo baby, that feels so good.” She purred and pressed the rifle against her chest. It bent and groaned as Christina crushed it against her breasts. She ripped the rifle in half and threw the pieces aside and caressed her breasts for him. She smiled as Miller, unable to withstand it, climaxed in his pants. “Oooooo was that too much strength for you? I see you made a mess.” She was so turned on by this. She felt herself nearing another climax as her super strong body trembled beneath waves of pleasure.
Miller was frozen where he stood. He couldn’t move. He had just jetted cum in his shorts and already his penis was getting firm again. The impressive bulge pushed out against his black coveralls. Christina approached the helpless guard and ran her fingers gently over his broad shoulders and down his muscular arms. He couldn’t move. She seized his collar with both hands and tore his coveralls in half, ripping them from his body slowly. She relished in the ease with which she tore the fabric from his rippling body. He stood in nothing but his cum soaked briefs.
Electricity shot through him while she ran her fingers through his chest hairs and over his abdomen muscles. She caressed his biceps, rock hard muscles flexed to the breaking point from endless arousal.
“Flex them for me.” she whispered. He, unable to resist her, did as she said. His biceps pumped into two impressive, iron hard mounds. She caressed them, feeling their strength as they grew to their limit. “You must be so strong.” She whispered, blowing short, tempestuous breaths into his ear. “Your muscle is so hard.” She gasped from arousal, not only from the rock solid strength of his muscles also but from knowing she could crush them with a finger.
“Oooooo …” she kissed him lightly on his lips, the very demonic fire of irresistible desire. “You’re so hard.” She caressed his groin, teasing the trembling penis with her wandering fingers. His breath grew hard, and his body quivered. He stared in rapt fascination into her burning blue eyes, so hot they burnt with icy flames. Her body was so fucking hot. Her skin so soft and golden brown on every inch of flesh. Just the way her sun blonde tresses spilled down her naked shoulders was enough to drive him insane. He recalled this heavenly body ripping apart three inch thick steel walls and armor plated doors like they were tissue paper. His penis twitched again and again, nearing a second climax.
His knees got weak as she kissed him again, her fingers tempting further his stiff manhood. Slowly, delicately, she brushed her fingers over the bridge of his cock’s head while nibbling his lower lip. The penis stiffened quickly, turning into a stiff, iron shaft, trembled like a jolting quake, and spat buckets of cum in spastic agony. Miller fell to his knees, practically unconscious from exhaustion. She laughed and pushed him back to the floor, a helpless victim of her irresistible sexual charms.
She looked both ways down the hall, seeking some means of escape. Either way would prove hazardous with various obstacles. But there wasn’t an obstacle she could think of that could stop her. An army of the strongest men would be useless against her. She was so strong she could rip any wall, barrier, or door in half like it was nothing. And she assumed there wasn’t a weapon powerful enough to harm her.
She was super strong, super sexy, and absolutely unstoppable.
Fifteen minutes later …
“Now what do we do?” Lisa asked in a whisper.
“I have no clue.” Chris replied.
Shrouded in darkness, they had the slightest idea where they were going. They had followed the winding hall for at least ten minutes. The dark silence of the iron hall penetrated their very being. They half expected some demon to lunge out from no where and rip them to shreds.
“Where the fuck are we?” Chris asked himself, feeling along the cold iron wall for support and comfort. Each hollow step they took was soundless. The blackness of their surroundings was terrifying; a pitch, midnight black hell impenetrable by any means.
“Look.” Lisa’s gasping voice broke the silence.
He saw it. A steady streak of white light brushing against the wall ahead, as if freedom lurked around the very next corner. He broke into a swift step with Lisa close behind, petite fingers grasping his shoulder for dear life.
When they rounded the corner they found a small door leading into an unknown abyss. The light spilled through a single window in the door. Chris prayed to everything holy that it wasn’t locked. He readied the pistol and reached for the handle. It turned easily.
With painful slowness he pushed it open into God knows what hell awaiting them on the other side. Chris and Lisa entered a large room; something that resembled an auto repair garage but far bigger. Cars were lined along both walls; jet black Mercedes, parked in deafening silence. A series of garage doors lined the far wall on the opposite side where they entered. The light streamed in through glass windows in every door.
Lisa hastily made for the garage doors, but Chris stopped her short, sensing the danger of this ominous place.
“Wait. We still don’t know where we are. Those doors could lead anywhere.” He whispered, careful not to be heard even by the huge toolboxes that surrounded them in the garage.
“They lead outside!” she gasped. “That’s all that matters now! Outside and the police! We’ll call the police.”
Chris nodded, understanding her impatience. But he was still leery of the parked Mercedes and the abounding silence; the almost purposeful simplicity with which they found this garage and escape route.
“I think we should wait.” he whispered. “It’s to easy.”
“I don’t fucking care! I’m calling the police.”
“Lisa wait …” Chris reached for her as she went for the doors.
Suddenly the dead black Mercedes parked along the silent wall came to life, headlights staring into their eyes and the engines grumbling loudly. They started inching forward. Chris quickly counted four.
Shit! They were in for it now.
“Welcome.” Said a deep voice from the dark hall behind them.
Double shit! They’d been followed all along. This was a trap. Chris had a gut feeling they were about to die and he didn’t like it one bit. He readied the .45 caliber pistol he’d stolen from the little pudgy man back in the cell.
“Lisa, stay close.” She wasn’t panicked, but the fear in her eyes was doubled by the threat surrounding them. Three Mercedes and a deranged lunatic behind them. What were they going to do?
“You’re escaped has delayed the program. You were to be hunted by the test subject, not by the assassins.” The disembodied voice stepped from the shadows into the blinding light of the headlights. He was nothing more that a silhouetted nightmare against the headlights. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Jess Jericho, the commander of this seek and destroy mission. I’d like for you and the pretty lady to return to your cell immediately until further notice.” He beckoned to the empty space around him. “There’s no escape. Nowhere to go. Surrender and do as I say.”
“Fuck you.” Chris said strongly, preferring to face death rather than surrender his own life to a man he didn’t know. He raised the pistol and aimed for Jericho’s face. Three rounds fired from the Mercedes behind him, and Chris fell face first taking Lisa with him.
“Big mistake.” Jericho said lightly.
In seconds Chris heard squealing tires, realized the Mercedes were heading for him, and grabbed Lisa, pushing her aside. “Lisa run!” he screamed over the winding engines. Suddenly the first car leapt forward and raced for him.
Lisa dove for the shadows. Jericho stepped silently away into the surrounding blackness outside the headlight’s gleam. Chris jumped to his feet, aimed and fired at the speeding car. Sounds of shattered glass filled the garage, windshield remnants splattering across the pavement. The car swerved as the driver’s head exploded into a swampy mesh of blood, bone, and brain watering the black leather seats crimson. Chris buried another five rounds into the car as it ripped a swath of destruction through the standing toolboxes and lockers along the wall, smashing them to tiny, mutilated bits.
The smoking hood crashed into the wall, compacting on itself into a mangled mess of broken steel. The ruined car stood silent, a mashed pile of useless scrap metal for the junkyard. Chris did not celebrate. The second car was racing forward, determined to finish what the first could not do.
Chris aimed and fired again but nothing happened. His ammo was spent. The pistol had only been half loaded. In the security of the shadows Lisa watched on in stupefied horror as Chris faced the grim reaper. At the last instant he leapt onto the hood before it hit him, crashed painfully into the windshield, painting jagged broken lines across the glass like shattered spider webs, cavorted over the roof and onto the cold pavement behind the car as the brakes squealed, and the car ground to a stop.
The driver threw the car in reverse and backed into Chris as he rose. A great thud as the bumper smacked into him, and Chris tumbled back gasping for air. The car engine died and both front doors swung open. Two large men stepped out, one with red hair and the other black. Chris held his chest for a moment, taking short breaths, but within the seconds the two men reached him, Chris was prepared for combat.
He was a strong man. The red head thug quickly swung his right arm in a swooping blow to the face. Chris ducked, grabbed his arm as it screamed by with his right hand, landed a savage blow to the midsection with his left, and then snapped the attacking arm behind the thug’s back. He wrapped his free arm around the thick neck of his attacker. The black-haired man grabbed the red head’s shoulders and pushed against them both with disturbing strength. Christ fell back, the red head on his chest.
He kicked the thug off as the second attacker grabbed him by his shirt and hoisted him up. Chris quickly clapped his arms across the man’s head, crushing his cranium with his solid biceps. The man dropped Chris and stumbled back, holding his ringing head. Chris jumped into the air like a cat and landed a swift spinning back kick to his chest. He crumpled into the car behind him like a sack of potatoes.
The red head smashed into his from behind, pushing him against the hood of the Mercedes, burying his fist into Chris’ side. Chris grunted, swung back his right elbow, and landed a crushing blow to the red head’s right ear. He spun about viciously and grabbed his throat, twisting red like a rag doll, slamming him into the parked car with a loud thud. Suddenly the echo of screeching tires, and Chris realized the final car was racing for him, aiming for the kill.
He spun about and saw it screaming towards him. He dove sideways from the path of the oncoming car. The red head screamed in terror, his blood curdling cry filling the garage. The car smashed into him, plastering his bloodied, splattered corpse into the parked car behind him; a permanent fixture for the black leather seats. Both cars, bent and twisted, skidded across the pavement into the shadows beyond the light.
They whistled to a dead halt and stood in smoldering ruin. Chris quietly approached the mangled Mercedes. Safe in the shadows, Lisa crouched and watched. Suddenly the driver door shot open, blasting Chris in the knee, and he crumpled down into a useless heap. Lisa screamed as the iron cold muzzle of a gun pressed into her temple, forcing her to stand.
“Get up.” Said the familiar voice of Jericho.
Immediately Lisa saw the infamous Gypsy twins step from the automobile and seize the paralyzed Chris, yanking him to his feet as he grimaced in pain. “Game’s over.” Jericho said. “You all die …”
“Jericho.” Called a loud voice from behind. “Don’t kill them.”
A bald man in a white lab coat stepped from the shadows. He ran his right hand across his mouth, feeling his smoothly shaved chin, and pointed to Lisa and then to Chris.
“They’re our only hope now.”
“Pincott, what are you talking about?” asked Jericho, furious that his fun had been spoiled.
Jarod Pincott eyed the smoking ruin of the two twisted cars, the hulking Gypsy twins, and Jericho, his own face a mask of twisted madness. He grabbed the wrist of Jericho’s hand holding the pistol and the two men locked gazes.
“The girl has escaped.” He paused, letting the knowledge sink in. “Our medicine had a far more profound effect than we expected. Those armor plated thick steel walls you proposed to secure her away? She ripped them apart like wet toilet paper.”
“Oh Christ.” Jericho’s faced turned gray, shadows and lines creasing his already aged complexion. “What do we do now?”
“Keep these two alive. I’m sure she’d return for her boyfriend. And of course who’s more important in anyone’s life than their best friend?” he smiled, glancing down at Lisa.
“I see.” Jericho motioned to the Gypsy twins. “Our bargaining chips in the game.”
Chris was pushed to the ground beside Lisa, and they looked worriedly at one another. What the hell was this Pincott talking about? His girlfriend Christina was here? Was that what had happened to her? Had she been abducted by these madmen as well?
“I just hope the Superior has the hope we have.” Pincott brushed himself off and returned to the shadows.
Jericho and the Gypsy twins took Chris and Lisa and led them into the shadows to follow him.
Ten minutes earlier …
Christina stepped from darkness. She had left behind a giant warehouse, shrouded in shadow, and found herself surrounded on all sides by towering, electrified fences. It seemed there was no escape from this hell.
In the distance she saw a huge bolted gate sealed with a metal sign that read no trespassing. She felt her arms, still pumped with inhuman physical strength, and knew she could easily rip the gate apart with her teeth if she wanted. Nothing could stop her. The only problem was getting to the gate without being seen.
She wasn’t naked any longer. She had stolen a uniform shirt from a stashed wardrobe she had found in the warehouse. So she wouldn’t attract as much attention had she been nude still. But it was only a shirt. And it was a snug fit. And she would attract some attention. A great deal actually.
The bottom of the button down shirt just barely reached below her fanny. Her gorgeous, long legs were absolutely bare. The golden brown skin would do little to keep all attention from her. And her faultless breasts pushed a bit firm against the shirt. The top three buttons couldn’t snap across the lush curves. Her sun blond hair dripped like silk lava down her shoulders and across her chest.
She started for the gate.
“Stop!” a voice cried out. “Hold it!” Another cried.
She was fucked. She knew it. She glanced around at her attackers who must have melted out from the wood work because she swore she saw no one before she left the warehouse. On her right were five very large men armed with automatic rifles aimed towards her face. They were all dressed in the same coverall uniform as Miller, the security guard.
On her left were three camouflaged jeeps, each with an over zealous driver ready to crush her to death beneath his wheels.
The five men approached her cautiously, whispering to one another. She could hear barely their inaudible warnings to one another. Warnings that she had been changed into some super assassin, and they must attack with precaution.
“Ma’am, we’re going to ask you to kindly surrender yourself. Mr. Pincott is very worried about you. You must return to the lab.”
“OK.” she said lightly and purred through her teeth like an insatiable pussy cat. “Make me.”
She winked at the man closest to her. Her right arm snaked out like a streak of dragon lightning and seized the barrel of his automatic rifle. “Shit!” he cried.
“Ooooooo baby. “ she smiled satanically. “This is what I’m going to do to your dick, asshole.” Slowly she squeezed her fingers and the steel barrel turned to mush, easily bending and twisting in her super human grip. He watched in awed terror as his weapon was rendered useless by this beautiful woman. She ripped it out of his hands, held the bent rifle against her pushed out breasts, and effortlessly tore it in half, tossing the remnants aside.
“Kill her!! Fucking kill her NOW!!!!” screamed another. She knocked his gun aside as it spat wild fire in all directions, seized his throat, and buried her knee into his stomach. He crumpled uselessly. The two men behind her buried the butt of their rifles into her back, pounding and pounding. Their gun butts crumpled to dust, and the steel weapons bent and broke against her.
She turned on them, still holding their fallen comrade in her right hand. With her left hand she grabbed one by his collar and then the other. The two other men stood baffled by how easily they had been stopped. With an incredible burst of strength, Christina hoisted all three men into the air and held them for all to see. The two in her left hand struggled uselessly while the man in her right hand screamed a muffled cry of distress to his two comrades.
“Do something!” they leapt forward and both wrapped their heavily muscled arms around her from behind. Their applied strength resulted in a double bear hug that could crush a small tree. But Christina only smiled.
“Ooooooo boys, is this the best you can do?” she grunted with effort. Inexorably she expanded her chest with a deep breath that slowly split the large arms around her apart. The two men shuddered in fear. While lifting the three men higher, she broke the bear hug, and the two men stumbled back. With little effort she threw her arms out and the men in her hands cavorted through the air like rag dolls, crashing helplessly against the electrified fence.
Showers of blue sparks lighted the empty sky as their flesh melted and burnt beneath the unrelenting fire. The air was filled with the smell of smoking flesh and charred skin. The three lifeless bodies crumpled down, ashes and bones.
Breathing heavy, fists clenched and arms pushed out at her sides, Christina turned on the remaining two men who were exhausted from their efforts. They motioned for the jeeps to attack, leapt to their feet, and ran for their lives from this unstoppable goddess.
The first driver floored the gas pedal to the floor and ripped a smoking path with his screaming wheels behind as the jeep sped for Christina. He readied for the impact. Christina did not know what to expect from this attack, but she threw her hands out before her, took a deep breath, and tensed her entire body. She stepped into the blow as the jeep crashed full impact into her outstretched palms.
The jeep smashed into Christina as though it were smashing into a solid steel wall. The hood crushed like a ground sausage. Steel ripped like paper, headlights cracked and splattered in a haze of blinding glass, the inside of the jeep raced forward to meet the crushed engine, and the driver careened through the windshield across the split and shattered hood.
Christina caught him in one arm and stepped quickly back from the broken mess of the once jeep. It was a twisted, useless heap of scrap metal now. The jeep had stood no chance as it impacted full force against Christina’s incredible strength. With her mere hands Christina had stopped the blazing jeep in it’s tracks.
She smiled down at the helpless man she held aloft with one hand.
“Ooooo baby, it seems I wrecked your jeep.” She chuckled. “Sorry.”
She flexed her free arm into a small bicep pose. There was obvious no well defined muscle but her arm was steel hard and glistened with sweat. Her golden brown skin twinkled in the morning sun. Her entire body was tense and aroused, every muscle flexed and taunt. “Can you feel what these arms are capable of? You and your toys are no test to my strength.” She purred softly, running her bare leg up his thigh and lightly against his rock hard penis. He climaxed there in her arm, unable to resist.
She held him up high, drew him in close to her, and threw him back at least fifty feet like a snowball. Christina brushed back her damp, silk tresses from her face and turned against the final two jeeps whose drivers were more cautious. They had approached her slowly, aiming for the kill.
Each driver motioned to a man seated behind him. They ducked behind the seat and then stood up, each holding a small uzi machine gun, prepared to spit fire in her face. She stepped up to the jeeps, parked beside one another, engine idle, and smiled.
“You can’t stop me.” She ran her trembling hands over her breasts, tempting the men. “Nothing can stop me.” She placed a hand on the hood of either jeep and pushed with all her strength.
The men lost their balance and fell. The drivers floored the gas, stark terror streaming through them. The rear tires spun uselessly, painting the pavement with streaks of burnt, black rubber. Smoke whirled behind the jeeps as Christina easily pushed them both back, effortlessly resisting their roaring engines and screaming tires. She balanced her efforts, keeping the jeeps beside one another as she pushed them back against their will.
The armed men stood up, cocked the loaded weapons, and sprayed gunfire against her. Christina just looked up at the two men as they shot her, smiling while still pushing back the jeeps. The spray of gunfire struck her heaving chest with absolutely no effect. Each bullet bounced off her perfect breasts like they were steel. Each man emptied an entire clip of wasted ammo.
“See. Nothing can stop me.” she meowed loudly like a wanton pussy, incredibly aroused, practically at the point of climax. Using her strength was so sexy. So unbelievably sexy and arousing.
Suddenly the jeeps stopped. The two men fell back again, jarred from their seats by the sudden impact. Christina saw that she had pushed the jeeps against the brick warehouse wall.
“Ooooo darn.” She purred. “wouldn’t you just know it, something to ruin my fun. Tsk. Tsk. Well I don’t think so.” She took a deep breath and pushed her chest out, sucking in her gut. She closed her eyes and ground her teeth, and pushed her stomach and fiery warm thighs against the jeeps to feel the power coursing through her. She needed to be touched.
“Get out!” screamed one driver. Christina cried out in orgasmic delight, thrusting her head back as waves of pleasure washed over her. “Oooooo yesss.” She hissed.
The men fled for their lives in all directions as Christina climaxed in fury, pushing with all her strength against the warm steel of the jeeps. Both jeeps slowly compressed beneath the force. The hoods bent into deeply pronounced V’s, the engines below melted under her incredible strength with hisses and cries. She felt the hard steel fighting back with useless effort. It was so sexy to feel the steel resisting her.
The engine grates split and broke, the fans snapped free with twittering twangs as they spun their last spin, the entire engine crushed like a small ball of dried, old clay. The windshields shattered, the hoods broke into the driver’s seat, ripping the steering wheel and seats. The trunks split and bent as they were pushed into the unrelenting brick wall behind. The entire jeeps were sandwiched between the brick wall and Christina’s bare hands.
She cried out again in sputtered gasps. Ooooo’s and Ahhhh’s tearing from her quivering lips, through her clenched teeth. Still she pushed. The jeeps were nothing more then crushed steel pancakes, smoking and burning in beaten ruin. Slowly the brick wall crumbled inward, capable of resisting the pushing force of the jeeps but not the incredible strength of Christina’s fully pumped muscles.
Whatever stood behind the wall toppled into oblivion as well as her muscles maxed out with an unstoppable stream of strength. Orgasms rocked her still as she stepped back from the conquered jeeps and brick wall.
She breathed deeply and turned upon the gate in the distance.
She rushed for it, intent on escaping unstopped this time.
She seized the bolt, rivers of surging electricity coursing through her from the electrified gate. It did little more than turn her on. “Oooooooo.” She cried aghast. She ground her teeth with ferocity, closed her eyes, allowed the electricity to flow through her, and screamed in rage. “Arrrggggghhhhhh, fuck you!!”
She ripped apart the bolt, blue sparks showering down like icy hale storms. The iron no trespassing sing ripped in half like a sheet of tissue paper. The whole gate split apart with ease, torn and rent to shattered pieces by her pumped muscles.
“Ooooo how did that feel?” she breathed deep, framed by the broken gate. “See what happens? You can’t stop this strength.” She flexed her arms tight one last time, drew every muscle in her body taunt, and cringed with tension while another orgasm ripped through her. She made growling noises like an unstoppable monster, riveted by sexual tension. She looked quickly around, seeing no one in plain sight, and dashed off into the empty horizon.
To where she didn’t know.
Three hours later …
He looked out the ash tinted window, into a meaningless sun.
Hands folded behind his back, his black suit nicely pressed, and navy blue tie arrow straight, he stepped over to his desk.
He pulled up the leather chair and took a seat. Twirling a pen in his hard worked fingers, he pushed a small button that activated the intercom.
“Send him in.”
After a few seconds, what seemed to be part of the wall opened inward, revealing a doorway into utter blackness. A bald man, nicely dressed, entered and sat before him.
“Pincott.” the dark man behind the desk leaned across, his ice blue eyes burning into Pincott’s very soul. He folded his hands. “I understand our project has faced a small misfire.”
“Yes.” Pincott swallowed hard. “The girl escaped.”
“You have her friends?”
“Use them.” The dark man sat back, reclining in his leather seat, folding his hands behind him head. “Take further precautions. Inject the other girl with the backup. Use her to your advantage.”
“The backup?” Pincott was stunned. “The effects on McCallister were completely unexpected. She has achieved a super powered status. Nothing can stop her.”
“These effects were not anticipated?”
“No. She was to be stronger than five men. Her strength almost surpasses that of the US population. Of Bodybuilders no less!! And she is invincible. My men opened fire with no effect. She ripped apart a highly electrified security fence.”
“Invincible.” The dark man echoed. “And very strong.”
“Yes.” Pincott nodded quickly.
“Find her. She will be a valuable asset to the federation.”
“We will, but how do we stop her?” Pincott asked.
“Use your science.” The dark man laughed.
“Yes sir.” Pincott answered, hopelessness evident in his voice.
“And Pincott …” a deep pause. “Find her before the others.”
Pincott nodded and left.
The dark man sat back, musing on the success of his medicine. The scientists were succeeding after all. Soon the world would be his.
To be continued