S.W.R. – Expedition, Part 4
Written by LustMonster :: [Tuesday, 05 July 2016 13:41] Last updated by :: [Thursday, 20 October 2016 23:37]
Route 223, twenty-five kilometers southeast of Bakersfield
The “Destructress” called a halt to the convoy when she encountered the tanks.
Four abandoned flatbed tractor-trailers sat axle-deep in the dirt beside the road. The tanks, chained down two to a trailer, looked surprisingly intact. It was very likely they could be salvaged and converted to electric drive.
If her lieutenant did not get her hands on them first …
Commander Barbara Wallace stood with her hands on her hips and grinned as she gazed at the huge war machines and thought of her subordinate muscle goddess. Lieutenant Wendy DeKalb had a particularly strong fetish for crushing poor helpless tanks using her unstoppable muscle power. The horrid sounds of tearing steel and wailing armor fueled her lust to greater heights and turned her into a voracious tank-devouring beast.
The Commander’s Special Weapons Research Base had over a hundred tanks stockpiled, but only a few dozen had gone through the refurbishment process with new electric motors and hyper-efficient hydrogen fuel cells, so they could be used in the current petrol-deficient climate. The rest were lined up inside several large warehouses, awaiting their turn to be upgraded and brought back into service.
At least a dozen, however, had met a much grimmer fate: succumbing to the wanton destructlust of “Entropy Girl”, AKA her luscious lieutenant.
Guards with the unfortunate duty to be watching over these warehouses had standing orders to beg the super muscle goddess to please, please, please not mangle the merchandise. (What else were they going to do, shoot her? That would just turn her on even more.) If that failed, they were to inform the Commander immediately. At which time, the Commander would bring up the feed from the appropriate security camera so she could watch her lusty lieutenant pound the poor machine into pudding – and vicariously enjoy the delicious destruction, her own muscles pulsing with excitement and the arms of her chair getting crushed beyond recognition.
The two muscle goddess were more alike in some ways than the Commander cared to publicly admit.
Now here they were: tens of kilometers from the Base, the huge Expedition nearing the southern reaches of Bakersfield, and the Commander had stumbled on these delicious Wendy snacks served up on platters.
She thanked her lucky stars that she had been the one running ahead of the lead vehicle and clearing the road of abandoned wreckage, instead of her lieutenant. She wasn’t sure if Wendy would have had a crater-blasting orgasm right there in the middle of the road before or after totally annihilating the tanks, but she was sure both events would have happened in very close proximity.
“Ma’am, is everything all right? Why have we stopped?”
The voice of her staff sergeant chirped in her tiny embedded earpiece. The Commander touched her finger to her earlobe to activate the microphone.
“All is well, sergeant. I have encountered some abandoned military hardware here that is worth salvaging intact. Stand by while I drag this tasty prize out of the dirt.”
“Oh, I think I’m gonna love watching this!” The Commander could hear the lusty excitement in her sergeant’s voice. The busty blonde sergeant adored and muscle-worshipped her Commander, and the latter had come to enjoy taking particular advantage of the situation. In the shattered, post-Event world of 2044, quaint rules about fraternization involving officers no longer mattered (at least as far as this Base Commander was concerned).
The truck cabs looked ravaged and useless, so the muscle goddess amused herself by tearing them away from their trailers and ripping them apart into piles of jagged scrap. Leaving them in neat piles beside the road for eventual pickup by the Expedition’s recycler trucks, she turned her attention to the four flatbed trailers and the prized tanks on top of them.
The Commander did not want to spare any of the empty cargo vans to carry the tanks, so she would have to arrange a checkout and refurbishment of the trailers, then have them hooked up behind suitable trucks in the convoy. Therefore, she would need to be careful when hauling this lovely loot, and pull them nice and easy. The trailers’ tires were all flat, partially sunk into the hard desert soil of the road’s shoulder, and had baked in the desert heat for years (if not decades). They would not hold up well for even the short trip from where they currently sat.
“Have the convoy proceed slowly,” the Commander said, her command transmitted through her earpiece’s mic back to her sergeant. “Arrange an equipment recovery team and tow vehicles to meet me. Inform them there are four dual-axle flatbed trailers, each one twenty meters long, carrying two Abrams tanks. Trailer gross weight at least one hundred thirty tons.”
The Commander inspected the nearest trailer and found a huge chain looped around a heavy beam across its jutting tongue. She uncoiled the chain, then dug her feet deep into the asphalt as she gave the trailer a series of increasingly strong tugs, rocking the tires out of their deep ruts until she was able to pull the entire trailer off the shoulder and onto the road. The metal creaked and groaned, but held its shape admirably.
Turning her back to the trailer, the musclewoman heaved the thick chain over her shoulder and began to pull the great mass of armor and steel onto the road.
The Commander smiled as the lead vehicle of the Expedition slowly approached. She could see her grinning sergeant at the helm. The blonde beauty’s eyes were wide and fixed on the Commander’s huge rippling leg muscles as the latter hauled the massive trailer like the world’s strongest mule.
“Ma’am, can you just stand there like that for a few minutes, while I stare at you from here and drool like an idiot?”
The Commander laughed and responded through her earpiece, “no sergeant, but we’ll definitely find a good use for your drool later. Halt and stand by while I fetch the remaining trailers. Let’s get them fixed up and hooked up ASAP.”
“And sergeant, please do not let the lieutenant know ...”
“Too late!” A happy muscle goddess in a cherry red leotard bounded onto the scene, her hands waving wildly in front of her. “I already heard! Tanks! A bunch of them! SQUEEEEEEE!!!”
The Commander just slapped a hand to her face, closed her eyes, and moaned, as the sergeant broke into a fit of giggling over the comm link.
The lieutenant wandered over to one of the tanks, which was likely feeling the tankish equivalent of abject terror. She put one hand gently on its thick armored hide and caressed it lovingly.
“DOWN, girl!” The Commander stood behind her salivating subordinate, hands on her hips. “These are not for demolishing.”
Wendy made sad puppy-dog eyes as she continued to stroke the thick armor that promised so much delightful howling when crushed and ripped.
“Look at it, Commander,” the lieutenant moaned. “So big and heavy and crushable. Come on, you know you want to ravage it too!”
“Lieutenant! That’s enough! Report to mobile command immediately. I will join you there shortly. We have important work to do!”
Looking crestfallen, Wendy shuffled off toward the Expedition’s lead vehicle, which contained the Commander’s mobile office.
A half hour later, satisfied that the recovery crews had all eight tanks well in hand (and special plans for two of them set in motion), the Commander returned to the Expedition’s lead vehicle and climbed up into the cab, settling her massive body into the passenger’s seat.
“Sergeant! Did I mention that I’m happy to have you back as my driver? I thought you might be out of action for a while.”
Amy blushed and smiled. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m pretty tough. I can take a licking— oh dear, bad choice of words …”
“We’ll see about that, sergeant,” the Commander growled as she casually peaked one pussy-crushing bicep.
The blonde moaned softly. Then she glanced out the window at the road ahead and remarked, “you’ve been doing the lieutenant’s job very well.”
“Roadblock clearing definitely invokes a certain mindless pleasure. I will endeavor to relieve my lieutenant of such drudgery more often. By the way, did the drone record my little outburst a little while ago, shortly before I found the tanks?”
Amy grinned. “It sure did, my fearsome Destruct— er, ma’am!” A giggle escaped her full lips. “Now everyone will know your deep desire to wipe out the entire planet.”
“Erase that outburst from the record. I don’t want my troops thinking I’m as bad as— Oh, hell with it! Disregard that order. We have more important matters to attend to. How close are we to the 99?”
“Roughly 5 klicks, ma’am. We just passed the turnoff to someplace called Weedpatch. Ma’am, many of the trucks in our convoy are reporting nearly depleted fuel cells. We really should recharge soon.”
“Very well. Let’s set up camp and begin long-range recon of the city. Rig for recharge and deploy defense teams. One line on the ground on each side, and one in the air, pattern Alpha Victor. Concentrate GMU search patterns along a direct line toward Bakersfield, track width ten kilometers, with a bulge northward to encompass Weedpatch. My gut is telling me that we will find more caverns and more abbies. I plan to poke those hives with some really big sticks.”
The Commander flexed one huge arm again, then languidly stretched it behind her sergeant’s neck. Amy gazed at it dreamily, struggled for a second or two to restrain herself, then gave up and descended upon it with ravenous fingers and tongue. The Commander just sat and gazed out the window at the desert landscape and the abandoned agricultural buildings just off the road.
“It’s too damn quiet around here,” the Commander said after a few minutes, ignoring the busty blonde now slobbering all over her upper arm. She continued to gaze out the window. “No abbies, no people, and still no bodies. Where the hell are the bodies?”
“Beats me, ma’am,” the sergeant replied after she had finished varnishing the Commander’s triceps with her lashing tongue and her mind had clicked to the fact that her Commander had spoken.
“Last time the base received a food shipment from Bakersfield was over a month ago. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Let’s start drone reconnaissance of the city, visual and infrared. I need to retire to my office and discuss upcoming plans with my lieutenant. Record all feeds from the recon drones and send them to my desk for later review.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Amy resumed her upright position behind the steering wheel, her hunger for bulging slabs of Commander-meat sated (for now).
The Commander spun on her seat and slid down to the ground through her open door. Amy watched her depart. She could not help enjoying the site of all those incredible muscles flexing and rippling all over the Commander’s arms, back, and buttocks. It took much willpower to keep from reaching out for one last grope of her Commander’s incredible figure.
The lieutenant was sitting on one of the visitor chairs at the Commander’s large desk, her elbows on the desk’s granite surface and her chin nestled in her cupped hands. She looked up at the Commander as the latter strode around the desk and settled her bulk in her sumptuous leather chair.
“I’m sorry I—”
“Stow it, lieutenant! I confess I came pretty close to tearing into those blasted things myself when I first encountered them. They really do look crunchy.”
Wendy brightened, and a smile stretched across her lips.
“You showed up unexpectedly to greet me and my new tanks. That would seem to indicate that you tired of your squeaky toy. Did you kill it?”
“No, Commander! But I definitely wore the poor thing out. I’ve got the abbie well restrained now, and the bio-nerds are having fun examining it.”
“How did you restrain it, lieutenant?”
“Um, I’m not sure you want to know ...”
Wendy grinned, and the Commander rolled her eyes. “You made creative modifications to the truck, I imagine.”
The lieutenant nodded, still grinning. “That monster’s not going anywhere! But it’s quite easily accessible for study.”
“Very well. Good work, lieutenant. I am quite curious what you have done to Zero-Six-One, but that will have to wait.” The Commander drummed her fingers on her desk for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.
“I have ordered the convoy to set up camp here, long enough to recharge all our fuel cells and perform a thorough aerial recon of Bakersfield. I’ve also ordered a concentrated ground scan between here and the city. We’ll follow that up with a circular sweep around the city itself.”
The lieutenant nodded. Her fingers started drumming on the desk’s granite surface as well. The Commander saw that and grinned.
“Eager to get out there and pound on abbies, lieutenant?”
Wendy nodded, causing that long lock of raven-black hair that nearly covered one eye to dance against her cheek. “Beat up abbies, crush tanks, I just need to do something!” She flexed her arm muscles and admired them. Her Commander admired them too. Then she made a snap decision and stood up.
“Come with me, lieutenant. I have something to show you. I am sure you will find it quite amusing.”
As the Commander led her lieutenant out of the convoy’s lead van, she tapped her earlobe to activate her comm link. “Sergeant, please have Arsenal Zero-Three assemble and transport one Papa India unit to Zero-Zero-One.”
The two ladies stood next to the van they had just exited, the Commander’s arms folded under her chest as usual. Wendy just stood and fidgeted. Then she bent down, plunged her hands into the asphalt, and dug out a fairly good size chunk of road. She amused herself by slowly crushing the heavy mass between her fingers.
“I just can’t take you anywhere nice,” the Commander said with a smirk. Wendy just started humming as she completed the decimation of the helpless asphalt. She had just started to bend down to grab another big hunk, but the sound of an approaching vehicle interrupted her and saved the road.
A large four-wheel-drive ATV with a small pickup bed pulled up next to them. The soldier driving it saluted the two women smartly, then said, “pizza delivery! Pepperoni and extra garlic.”
The Commander strode over to the rear of the ATV and lifted the boxy contraption out of the pickup bed. She set it down on the ground, then ordered the soldier to return to his normal duty. The young man drove away somewhat disappointed, as he had hoped to be able to stay and watch whatever it was the Commander was about to do with the strange device.
“Er, what is it?” the curious lieutenant asked as she eyed the thing.
It was basically a metal cube about a meter wide, sitting on four large rubber casters. A thick hose emerged from one side, leading into the side of a large metal tube that was clipped to the side of the box. The Commander pulled the tube out of its clips and hefted it in her hands. It looked like a somewhat stubby rocket launcher.
“Stand over there,” the Commander ordered, nodding toward the side of the road.
Wendy skipped gaily to the indicated spot. She hoped that the thing was super deadly and explosive. Her delicious muscle body craved the excitement.
“Okay, let’s see if I can remember what Mr. Brody told me about this thing...” She fiddled with some controls on the side of the tube, and a loud whine emitted from the box, slowly rising in pitch.
A small group of soldiers had wandered over from several of the large armored vans down the line and clustered along the side of Zero-Zero-One, eager as always to watch the two muscle goddesses showing off their unstoppable might.
The Commander brought the huge gun up and sighted through a protruding eyepiece directly on Wendy’s chest. She waited for a few heartbeats, then thumbed a big red button on the side.
Something black and viscous streamed out of the gun’s wide barrel and cascaded against the lieutenant’s slowly heaving chest. Then the thick goop spread along her arms and down her body. It completely encased her legs and feet, then spread a little further to root her to the spot. The stuff instantly hardened, turning Wendy into an ebony statue of herself.
The Commander set the big gun on top of the metal box, then folded her arms under her chest again.
Wendy experimentally nudged her arms and legs, very carefully at first. The stuff was amazingly strong, stubbornly resisting her cautious movements. She looked down at her own body, admiring her muscles which showed quite clearly through the hardened goop that covered her in a steel-hard layer several inches thick.
Then she snarled as she flexed her muscles, making her whole body bulge with incredible power …
The dense shell blasted away from her body in huge chunks. The lieutenant roared her triumph and blasted her muscles outward in several mind-blowing poses. Then she started to walk. The stuff still covering her feet and the ground immediately around them ripped two chunks of asphalt out of the road. She rose upward nearly a foot as she happily stomped around on her new asphalt Birkenstocks.
“I AM ROADZILLA! RAAAAAAARRRRR!!!”
The luscious lieutenant stomped harder, blasting the asphalt and black goop off her feet and ravaging the surface of the road beneath her. The nearby soldiers applauded and wolf-whistled. A few surreptitiously recorded the action using the cameras built into their personal datapads, for future enjoyment in private.
“As I feared,” the Commander declared, “this prototype Immobilizer Unit is not yet strong enough to immobilize a rampaging lieutenasaurus. We will continue to be plagued by at least one member of the species for the foreseeable future.”
More cheers and laughter erupted from the nearby soldiers and from Amy, who had stepped out from the lead vehicle’s cab to watch as well. Wendy continued to stomp around like a big-titted kaiju, laying waste to an imaginary city one meter high (and a real road beneath her feet).
“It should prove more effective against rampaging abbies, though. Mr. Brody promised that he would be able to reduce the size of the immobilization fluid generator so that it can be worn on one’s back.”
“That was fun! Shoot me again!”
The Commander did so, and Wendy entertained the crowd with another display of super muscle power and childlike imagination.
They repeated the exercise two more times, then the big metal cube wheezed into silence.
“Sorry, lieutenant, that’s all it’s got.”
“Awww!” Wendy brushed off bits of black crud that were still stuck to her body. One remained stuck to the peak of her left bicep, and she made a show of slowly licking it off. Then she eyed the depleted immobilizer hungrily.
“Now that it’s given up the ghost, can I smash it?”
“No, lieutenant, it just needs a refill. I would like to keep it for more tes—
Ah, cheer up! I think I hear dessert coming.”
There was a rumbling sound in the distance, growing steadily in volume. This was soon accompanied by a metallic clanking. Wendy turned and looked down the road toward the rear of the convoy. And saw …
Tanks. Two of them.
They approaching the muscle goddesses and the cheering crowd that was now quickly growing as more soldiers and civvies raced forward to join in the festivities.
Sergeant DiCaprio sidled up next to the Commander and pressed her fingers against one massive arm as she watched the lieutenant stand there gawking at the approaching tanks like Veruca Salt in front of the opening gate of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.
Smoke belched from exhaust pipes, indicating they were being propelled by their original diesel engines.
Where the heck did they find fuel for them? Wendy wondered briefly. Then she stopped caring, and slowly strode forward to meet the oncoming behemoths. The Commander strode up behind her. She apparently had developed mind-reading powers, for she said, “I’m told the techies concocted some fuel from the same stills they’ve been using to make their lovely road brew. Just enough to let us play with these beasts for a few minutes. Now stand right there. I have an announcement to make.”
The Commander turned to face the crowd, then shouted in a deep, booming voice:
“Ladies and gentlemen! As you all know, my lieutenant here is prone to excessive shows of strength at times.”
Cheers and laughter erupted from the crowd. The Commander swiped a hand from side to side to shush them.
“It is time to publicly discipline her. Corporal Cho, please maneuver the tanks into position.”
Wendy hadn’t even noticed the corporal’s arrival. He stood next to one of the tanks, grinning and holding some sort of remote control device. He thumbed a control on it, and one of the tanks rumbled forward, passing the two muscle goddesses and stopping a few meters beyond. Working another control, he made the other tank spin in place until it had its back turned toward the back of the other one.
There was a huge chain coiled neatly on the back of each tank.
“Stand directly between the tanks,” the Commander ordered.
Wendy struggled to suppress the absolute glee that threatened to take complete control of her face. She pursed her lips in a mock pout and made her signature puppy-dog eyes as she shuffled to the requested position.
The Commander walked to one of the tanks and grabbed the chain. Uncoiling it, she clamped the thick shackle around Wendy’s wrist. Then she repeated this for the other tank, fastening that chain to her lieutenant’s other wrist. The raven-haired muscle goddess experimentally tugged on the massive chains, making the tanks lurch a few inches toward her. Pout forgotten, she grinned savagely.
Thank you, she mouthed silently to her wonderful Commander.
Rolling her eyes, the Commander walked away from her chained subordinate and frequent lover. Rejoining the still-growing crowd of onlookers, she put her hands on her hips and spoke in a deep-chested rumble that quickly shushed the crowd.
“My lieutenant’s muscles are about to be tested against the might of these huge battle tanks. After she is torn apart, I want quick disposal of the remains. Understood, sergeant?”
Sergeant DiCaprio could barely suppress her laughter, and the rest of the crowd didn’t even try. “Uh, yes ma’am! I will clean up the gore right away, ma’am.”
“Then fire these babies up and let’s get this gruesome show over with. We have an Expedition to get back to. It will be a minor inconvenience to lose my occasionally useful lieutenant, but c’est la vie.”
The Commander folded her massive arms under her equally massive chest, bit her lower lip, and watched as the two tanks revved their giant diesel engines by remote control and began to move ponderously away from each other.
Wendy absolutely enjoyed feeling the massive machines trying to tear her arms right off her body. She exulted in the ease with which she could bend her arms against the immense forces trying to stretch them straight. Her huge biceps exploded upward, and she engaged in oral sex with one massive peak as soon as it moved within range of her lips and tongue.
Then she slowly brought her arms together, dragging the struggling tanks within reach of her savage fists.
The lieutenant bellowed triumphantly as she stood over the pulverized remains of the two battle tanks. “These pathetic machines tried to tear me apart! BUT I AM VICTORIOUS!!! NOTHING CAN DEFEAT ME!!!”
A deep voice boomed, “I WILL DEFEAT YOU, VILE VILLAINESS!!!”
A green blur plowed against the exulting lieutenant. The Commander’s huge arms wrapped around Wendy’s waist as the latter was lifted off her feet and propelled backward. Huge thighs pumping, the mindlessly horny Commander carried her lieutenant at incredible speed right through the mangled remains of the tanks and into the desert beyond.
A thunderous boom and a great rising cloud of dust and pulverized rock betrayed the incredible lust the Commander was taking out on her luscious lover, their wild sex blasting a new crater in the distant landscape.
The gathered soldiers gawked and cheered. Base credits were exchanged, settling bets on how long the tanks would survive this little show, and whether or not their mighty Commander would be able to control herself afterward. Sergeant DiCaprio collapsed on the asphalt, overwhelmed by all the incredible muscle power she had just witnessed.
Amy fervently hoped to lure both muscle goddesses to her own quarters sometime in the near future. Their incredible bodies deserved so much worship, and she was so very eager to provide it …