The Expedition headed for home.
Sergeant Amy DiCaprio hunched over the steering wheel of the lead van. Her fatigues hung a bit loose on her curvaceous body, as she had run out of backups to replace the outfit that had been recently torn off by a pair of lust-crazed superwomen. She had to nab something from Supply that was not properly suited to her hourglass shape. Amy made a mental note (yet again) to bring considerably more spare fatigues on future sojourns with the Commander and her equally delicious lieutenant. She had the feeling she would be consuming them at a steady pace.
The driver’s side door to Amy’s immediate left rattled in its frame. It was a quick-and-dirty door replacement, just good enough to last until they returned to base. The steering wheel was not quite perfectly round, due to the sergeant’s excessive grip on it a few hours ago. The deformity had shocked her deeply when she noticed it, enough that she had nearly driven the Expedition’s lead vehicle right off the road. After straightening the truck (and herself) out, she had gingerly bent and kneaded the wheel back into a roughly circular shape, feeling a distinct thrill as the steel underneath the vinyl wrap squealed under her newfound strength. Am I becoming super strong like my darling goddesses? She already possessed their invulnerability, which was pretty damn amazing all by itself.
The Expedition was returning driving on the same side of the highway it had arrived on, so the roadway ahead was clear of obstacles. With no roadblocks for the massively muscled lieutenant Wendy DeKalb to gleefully obliterate, she had to settle for riding shotgun in Zero Zero One’s cab, with her hand resting on Amy’s thigh. Well, not just resting, but gently massaging and squeezing. The fidgety lieutenant could never hold still.
Sergeant DiCaprio glanced down at Wendy’s hand again and bit her lip. She was damn horny again and trying very hard to ignore it and keep her mind on her driving. Dammit, sergeant, focus! But she could not complain. She had to admit she craved the muscle goddesses’ lusty attention. Every time either one of them touched her, the feeling was beyond electric.
Beneath her undershirt, buried between two massive breasts, a sky-blue crystal hung from the sergeant’s neck on a makeshift chain. Its soft glow was completely hidden within its cocoon of soft titflesh.
The comm unit in the dashboard chirped, then broadcast the rumbling voice of the Expedition’s mighty Commander Barbara Wallace. “Lieutenant! You had better not be distracting my sergeant while she is driving. She has banged up that truck enough already.”
Wendy quickly slid her hand up to grope one of Amy’s big breasts through her shirt, then drew it away. Sergeant DiCaprio moaned softly and bit harder on her lower lip.
“No, Commander! Not distracting her at all! I’m a good girl …”
“Uh huh. I heard that moan. If you cause her to wreck, I’m going to, well, hmmm, I’m going to cut off your supply of peanut brittle for a month.”
Wendy gasped. “That’s MEAN!!!”
Beside her, the sergeant grinned.
“It’s a damn good thing you have at least one weakness, lieutenant. Now, if you please, report to Zero Zero Three. I wish to bring you into this interesting conversation I am having with our new guests.”
“Yes, Commander!”
Amy breathed an audible sigh of relief. Wendy glanced over at her and stuck out her lower lip in a mock pout. Then she grinned evilly. “I’m coming back later to test your willpower even more,” she said in her evil villainess voice.
“I heard that, lieutenant! Get your muscly ass back here on the double.”
Wendy quickly opened the van’s passenger-side door. She slid off the seat and hopped out of the vehicle and down onto the ground, not fazed by the fact that they were traveling at a good clip. Her feet blasted little craters in the asphalt as she instantly halted her forward momentum and propelled herself toward the rear of the convoy.
For some reason, the Commander had rearranged things so that her “mobile office” was now in the back of Zero Zero Three instead of Zero Zero One. Something to do with the fact that just about every van in the convoy was now packed with cocoons on their way back to Base so they could be cracked open and their prisoners revived. The unique configuration of Three’s cargo area allowed the Commander to retain at least a small office in which she could set up her favorite desk and chair.
Wendy arrived at the rear of the vehicle, entered the door (without ripping it off its hinges like the Commander always insinuated that the lieutenant wanted to do - the nerve of the Commander!), and leaped up into the small metal-walled room.
The Commander was seated at her desk. Across from her sat the two beautiful musclemen who they had rescued from imprisonment inside the barricade. They had on military-style t-shirts and pants requisitioned from Supply to replace to replace the extremely tattered fatigues they had on before. One chair remained available, so Wendy nabbed it and sat down. With muscles flexing, still feeling restless, she tipped the chair backward and rocked back and forth on its hind legs.
“Lieutenant, allow me to introduce Ulf and Sven Henriksen, former soldiers in the Norwegian Forsvarets Spesialkommando. As you have likely guessed, they are identical twins. And, as it turns out, distant relatives of mine.”
Wendy’s eyes lingered appreciatively on the two men who looked liked Viking gods, and her lips stretched into a grin. They both looked back at her, not bothering to hide their evident admiration of her massive muscles and prodigious chest.
“How distant?”
“First cousins twice removed, lieutenant. Grandsons of my great-grandfather’s sister.”
The lieutenant tried to wrap her mind around that. The sight of the two hunky men and her very delicious Commander in the same room was making it rather difficult. Wendy leaned forward, propped her elbows on the desk and her chin in her hands, and studied the two men closely. Her expansive chest squished between her thick forearms.
Ulf, the closer of the two, stuck out a massive hand. The lieutenant responded in kind and allowed his hand to swallow hers. The man brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. The Commander guffawed as she observed her unstoppable tank-crushing lieutenant actually blush. Sven extended his own equally impressive hand, and the cycle repeated.
“Is that why you’re here?” she asked after reluctantly retrieving her hand from Sven’s grasp.
“Yes,” Ulf replied in thickly accented English. “We have traveled far to join your army. Commander Wallace is a legend!”
If the Commander had rolled her eyes any harder, they would have rolled up her brain and optic nerves into a taquito. Wendy’s grin threatened to split her head in half. Oh, this is going to be fun!
Wendy was taking a great deal of pleasure from the two gorgeous soldiers’ rapt stares, even more than usual. Leaning over the desk, she slowly bent one arm, blasting that bicep into a towering peak. It met up with her thick forearm. Anything trapped in between would have been crushed out of existence.
“You like?” she said huskily.
The men and the Commander nodded, then the redhead muscle goddess caught herself. She scowled and grumbled, “lieutenant …”
Wendy grinned savagely, picked up Ulf’s hand with her free one, and spread his palm and fingers across her swollen arm boulder. She leaned back in her chair again, and the Norwegian muscleman followed, his chair wheeling in the lieutenant’s direction as he clasped her bicep tight.
“You should see how this bicep ripped through a foot-thick steel wall not too long ago,” Wendy moaned, almost in a whisper. “We have the video in our archives. Better than porn …”
Ulf’s tongue nearly fell out of his mouth as he groped Wendy’s massive bicep. Behind him, the Commander momentarily forgot to be annoyed about her lieutenant’s flagrant distraction and gazed hungrily at Wendy’s cunt-crusher peak.
After half a minute of hungrily gnawing on her knuckles, the Commander snapped out of her reverie and decided it was time to drag this derailed train back on track.
“Lieutenant! Back off my men.”
“Your men?” Wendy retorted, still grinning, as she slowly pulled her arm away from the Norwegian. His brother Sven, who had scooted his own chair over to Wendy’s free side and had started reaching for her incredible muscle-packed thigh, retracted his own hand with obvious disappointment.
“My men,” the Commander rumbled. “Besides …”
The redheaded muscle goddess scooted her chair forward, set her right elbow on the desk, and sucked all the air out of the room with her own mind-blowing curl. The flesh-covered bowling ball brought gasps from men and lieutenant alike.
Dammit, Wendy thought. Is the Commander getting even bigger? Unfair!
“…nothing can top this mighty boulder,” the Commander growled with savage pride. Hands reached out and groped the Commander’s upper arm. The lieutenant pouted as the nexus of her defeat flexed monstrously before her admittedly admiring eyes. Then she sat up straight as her face took on an expression of fresh amusement.
“So, um, how did you guys end up hanging from shackles under a highway in Bakersfield?”
It was Sven’s turn to roll his eyes. “I must tell this embarrassing story again?“ he groaned.
“Oh, did I miss all the good stuff? Why didn’t you invite me to the party sooner, Commander?”
“We do not have time to go over it in detail again, lieutenant. You and I have other things to discuss. Suffice it to say that these two brave men went through hell and back, making their way over a period of several years from northern Europe, which is apparently much worse off even than the former United States. Their unfortunate run-in with some local bandits resulted in their capture just before we arrived. Not without a fight, however, as the two remaining bandits that we took into custody described to me after some gentle persuasion.”
“What’s going to happen to them?”
The Commander raised her hand in reply and punched a button on the console in front of her. “Sergeant Franks, has Medical finished patching up our two bandits?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” a gruff voice responded from the console’s speaker. “But that hasn’t stopped their complaining.”
“Well, this should.” She punched another button. “All drivers, immediate halt.”
There was a brief lurch as the van they were riding in slowed to a stop. The Commander punched the first button again.
“Sergeant Franks, prepare a pack with three days’ worth of supplies for each bandit, then let them go. See to it that they do not try to hitch a ride on another vehicle as we depart. Order the convoy to resume as soon as the bandits are safely away.”
“Yes, Ma’am!”
The Commander smirked as she saw the surprised look on the faces of the Norwegians and her lieutenant.
“Special Weapons Research Base is not a correctional facility. That is not our job. Surviving out there is punishment enough for those two. Now then…” The Commander turned in her chair to face the two Norwegians.
“Despite our Expedition’s full load, I have managed to shuffle things a bit to secure roomier accommodations for the two of you in Zero One Four. You are dismissed.”
The hulking soldiers rose and extended their hands again. The two superwomen shook each of them, then the men turned and briskly exited the van. The Commander resettled herself behind her desk and waved her lieutenant to one of the other chairs. Then she reached into a desk drawer and retrieved something wrapped in cloth. She set it on the surface of the desk in front of her and carefully unwrapped it.
Wendy’s eyes widened as the two crystals came into view.
They were a semi-transparent light blue, measuring roughly two inches in length. Wendy thought they looked like shards that had broken off something much bigger, their surfaces rent with little cliffs, valleys, and jagged protrusions. Little holes penetrated all the way through them in places.
The Commander picked one of them up and held it out to Wendy, who reached forward and gingerly took it.
“When I found you in the rubble, lieutenant, that was inside your clenched fist. I am giving it back to you now. Please keep it someplace safe.”
Wendy stared down at it as visions of that moment flashed through her mind. They were her earliest memories: a jumble of sights, sounds, and sensations that still brought her no closer to understanding her own history. Flat on her back inside a crater, surrounded by the smashed remains of what had been a downtown city block. Looking up at the sky, at the bright blue the same color as this crystal. At the massively muscled form of one Barbara Wallace, reaching one arm down to take hold of her hand …
A tear welled up in one eye. She brushed it away with a fingertip.
“What is it?” she finally managed to ask.
“I do not know for certain, but I believe it is tied to your powers. As this one is to mine.” The Commander held up the other crystal between thumb and index finger. She turned it slowly so that its many sharp edges glinted in the bright overhead light.
“They seem to be as invulnerable as we are, lieutenant. I discovered that by accident while fighting my way out of my own personal crater long before finding you in yours.”
“I still don’t remember anything from before! When you were reaching down to lift me up, you looked like a rescuing angel. That was the moment I was born.”
Wendy was interrupted by the lurch of the van as the Expedition began to move again.
“How do we even know my real name?”
“Your face matched a driver’s license record in our database, lieutenant, which then led to a birth certificate. Records scrounged from old digital sources around the country even as they were going dark. It was not a one hundred percent match, but I am recently confident you are one Wendy DeKalb, born July nineteen, two thousand fourteen in Santa Monica, California. Unfortunately, as I have told you before, no records exist that can lead us to your family.”
Wendy bit her lip. “The base is family for me now. You’re my family.”
The Commander could not help smiling as a brief flash of some silly old action movie, one that she and Wendy had watched together just before the Expedition had departed, flashed in her mind. That sexy actor – Vin Diesel was his name. His character was talking all the time about family.
Her lieutenant caught the smile and returned it. “You’re thinking of that movie, right? That guy was so hot! His voice …”
“Tell me about it.”
The two of them fell silent as each of them stared into their respective crystals and pondered their own histories.
“Commander, please turn off the lights a moment.”
The big redhead did not question the unusual request. She just waved her hand in a gesture that instructed the overhead lights to shut off. As the van’s cargo area had no uncovered windows, it was plunged into complete darkness. Well, almost complete …
“Good eyes, lieutenant. I never even noticed that.” The two of them stared even more intently at their crystals, which glowed faintly with an inner blue light.
“POWAH …” Wendy breathed. The Commander could just barely make out her lieutenant’s grin in the dim glow.
“Why are you giving this to me now?” Wendy asked after a minute or so of further crystal gazing.
“To be honest, lieutenant, I don’t know,” the Commander replied as she gestured to restore the room light. “It just feels like the right thing to do. The crystal is tied to you somehow. I bet even the Tsarina has one, stashed in her own jewelry cabinet or wherever. Perhaps that could prove to be a way of stopping her when that becomes necessary. More study is needed if I can figure out a way to have it done safely. Anyway, just don’t lose it, okay?”
Wendy smiled as she dropped her crystal into her leotard between her big breasts.
“If you’re going to keep it there, lieutenant, I suggest putting it on a good strong chain. It has a hole quite conveniently located for one.”
“Yes, Comm-”
The comm unit on the Commander’s desk chirped and an indicator lit. She punched a button on the console. “Yes, sergeant?”
“We’ve arrived at the Mojave Airport, ma’am. Do you wish to stop and collect scrap here, as you originally planned on the way out? We have four empty SSCATs available for the job. Seems a shame to leave them empty!”
The Commander grinned. “Yes, sergeant. The base can use all the metal it can get, and my lieutenant and I would enjoy the little diversion. Stop the convoy, and have the SSCATs meet us at the airport’s nearest gate.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Five minutes later the two muscle goddesses approached the main gate on foot. The fleet of four recycler trucks trundled along behind them, then parked in a line a (hopefully) safe distance away. The SSCAT drivers had watched the drone recordings of the lieutenant’s earlier demolition escapades and knew quite well what she was capable of. A swarm of surveillance drones was here as well, circling in the sky above the airport, high-resolution cameras ready to broadcast this latest orgy of destruction to eager viewers back in the Expedition. The Commander gazed up at them, then briefly scowled. She was pretty sure the Expedition had not brought that many drones along …
Wendy’s pulse quickened as she beheld the vast aircraft junkyard beyond the tall fence. The planes had been flown here at the end of their useful lives over a period of decades before the Event. Everything looked so delightfully crunchy!
“Ohhhhh, the gate is locked! I guess we can’t get in,” Wendy moaned as she gazed lustily at the sturdy padlock. She tugged hard on one nipple, yanking it right through her leotard. After she let go of it, the nanofabric healed itself around and over the swollen nipple in about ten seconds.
Hands behind her back, the Commander simply strode forward and walked right through the fence. Chain link scraped against her body as it snapped apart with loud twangs. Looking back over her shoulder, she calmly awaited her subordinate’s likely less efficient entrance. The lieutenant, to the Commander’s continued amusement and/or annoyance, did not believe in economy-of-action. The raven-haired battle beauty craved the maximum destruction possible.
“Hey!” Wendy cried. “That was my job!” She reached forward, grabbed the padlock, and squeezed it so hard the steel spurted from her closed fist as superheated liquid. Then she grabbed fistfuls of fence and tugged. The heavy-gauge chain link ripped away from its supporting poles in one great sheet, accompanied by the wonderful popping sounds of steel stressed far beyond its limits.
Grinning, the lieutenant spun on her feet, winding the fence around her like tape onto a spool. Once she had a meter-thick thick layer of the stuff surrounding her body, she pumped her muscles and slammed her arms outward, sending gouts of fencemeat flying in all directions. Some of it impacted the Commander’s back and legs, bouncing away harmlessly. Wendy still had a big chunk in her hands, and she made a show of savagely tearing chunks out of it with her teeth, chewing it up and spitting it out with enough force to blast little craters in the weathered asphalt.
“My way was more elegant,” the Commander said simply. She licked her lips, however, as she took in the glorious sight of her lieutenant’s pumped body. She was so going to enjoy watching Wendy romp and play.
Past the fence, the two of them stood and savored the meal laid out before them.
Wendy clapped her hands gleefully. “So much to play with! Where do we begin?”
“They will all squeal and crunch with equal agony under your brutal assault, lieutenant. How about that one right there?” The Commander nodded toward the nearest derelict aircraft. She was more than content to let her lusty lieutenant lead the way, so she could enjoy watching her subordinate’s sexy body flex and bulge as she exerted herself in the wanton destruction she enjoyed so much.
Wendy strutted toward the doomed airplane with her hands clenched into fists and her muscles pumped. She turned her face toward one flexed bicep. “Ready to play, Leona?” Its peak thrummed in response. Then she turned toward her right bicep. “And you, Rita?” That one flexed happily as well.
The Commander laughed and rolled her eyes. “You named your biceps?”
“Of course! How else am I going to get their attention if I can’t call them by name?” Wendy snapped one arm out straight, and her fist disappeared into the belly of the derelict in front of her with a satisfying crunch.
Shaking her head, the Commander pumped her own massive muscles, then leaped on top the doomed airplane next in line. Her thighs and fingers worked their way into the aluminum skin and began to crumple the fuselage’s entire roof like a great big screeching accordion. Her own massive biceps (Georgina and Ginerva) bulged with the savage pleasure of wanton destruction.
Wendy’s fists flew, piledriving through the pathetic remains of the airplane over and over, sending scraps flying all over the place and filling the air with the crashes and squawks of shredding metal. The Commander had expressed some displeasure at her leisurely pace some time ago when she “dismantled” the old military base next to their new one. She was determined to show her superior that she could be an efficient wrecking crew of one when needed. Though it really wasn’t nearly as much fun!
“Lieutenant! Don’t scatter it all over. Make neat piles for the SSCATs to collect.”
“Yes, mother!”
Wendy turned toward another nearby airplane, a smaller model. Standing by its tail, she wrapped her monster arms around it and gave the whole assembly a brutal tug. It tore free from the fuselage, and she slammed it on the ground and quickly reduced it to scrap. Then she plowed her fists into the nearest wing and yanked a huge chunk out of it. Spinning around, she flung the whole mass at the Commander at the same time the latter had just torn the jet engine off her own plaything and was playfully batting it around in the air. The two makeshift missiles collided, then ripped around each other to slam against the muscle goddesses’ sexy bodies.
“Neat piles!” the Commander reminded her lieutenant yet again. They darted around the tarmac, kicking jagged scraps into various piles before leaping onto the next helpless aviation victim like a pair of lionesses pouncing on a wounded gazelle.
They had saved one of the choicest entrees for last: a battered old 747, leaning a bit to one side on collapsed landing gear. Wendy hopped up on one wing and made a show of flexing her muscles in various poses as she strutted toward one of the over-wing emergency exits. The Commander stood before its nose, ready and eager to tear the thing to pieces with her wonderfully unstoppable might.
