Martial arts champion Zara destroys two British cops 
by heynow50000



(The character is based on UK martial artist Zara Phythian - in looks and
abilities. Clearly, Zara isn't any sort of a villain, so no offence or malign
is intended!)

The car sped through the night along the dark highway. At the wheel was Barry,
an old but faithful driver. He'd been with the owner of the vehicle for many
years. The owner was lounging on the back seat with a girl. The owner's name -
Jimmy Briggs. Briggs was one of the biggest crime bosses in the UK. Odd, then,
that the car wasn't filled with hired muscle - big lugs with automatic weapons
whose job it would be to protect this 'Mr Big' character. But the girl with
Briggs was a one-woman army on her own. Not that you'd know it by looking at
her. She was tall, 5'10; a face like a fashion model - beautiful, high
cheekbones, perfectly symmetrical face. Her outfit - a tight, black sleeveless
party dress, very high above the knee and flat, knee high, lace up boots (kind
of like the sorts worn by boxers and wrestlers) - showed off her athletic,
muscular, fit body. Her arms were nicely muscular as were her legs. She looked
confident, capable and deadly.

The car pulled off the highway and moved down a quieter, darker minor road. A
little along the way, the car's way was barred by a stationary police car, its
lights on. The car pulled up, just short of the police car. Jimmy Briggs
sighed heavily.

"Shit, local plod. We've got that gear in the boot, can do without the coppers
pushing their noses in. Barry - get us out of this."

Barry went to reverse the car but, just at that moment, a car slowed down to a
halt behind them. It seemed to be a regular, family saloon. Looking in the
rear-view mirror, Barry could see there looked to be a middle-aged couple in
the car. No threat, but now no way to reverse down the road, either.

"Boss, no go - we're blocked in."

Briggs sucked his teeth. He slowly looked at the girl next to him, raising his
eyebrows at her, seemingly asking her a question. She seemed to understand the
wordless question, slowly smiled and then ran her hands up and down her torso,
seemingly in excitement. Barry turned in his seat.

"Boss, I'm not much with my fists, but I'll give it a go."

The girl leant forward and patted Barry on his shoulder and shook her head,
while smiling sweetly. She then turned to Briggs and delicately kissed him on
the lips.

"Won't be long, darling," she said, opening the door and swinging her gorgeous
legs out. Slowly drawing herself to her full height, she began to slowly walk
down the road towards the police squad car. With the two sets of powerful car
lights lit, the scene was as plain as day, despite it being the middle of the
night. The two police officers, who had been sitting in their car, now saw
this amazing vision walking towards them. They'd been about to approach the
car's driver, but now were confronted with this amazingly beautiful woman. She
looked like she'd been to a high-class nightclub or a sassy dinner party. They
both exited the squad car and walked towards her. Midway between the two cars,
the girl stopped, slowly folding her arms and watching the two cops. The
comparison between the three physical specimens was striking. The girl: tall,
muscular yet slim, athletic and leggy, all shown off by her turn-on outfit.
The two cops couldn't have been more different: the first cop, a sergeant, was
old. Looking to be in his late 50s, he was short and didn't have much of a
physique to speak of, save for a little pot belly which hanged over his belt.
The other cop was much younger, probably in his early 20s. He was a little
taller than the sergeant, probably about 5'7. He looked like an egg on legs:
narrow shoulders atop a round, barrel like torso. It was a hot night, and both
officers were in their shirt sleeves. The young cop's shirt was tight around
his body and, as he walked, the barrel rippled and flopped. The belt of his
trousers was fighting to keep his massive gut under control. No muscle, just
fat clearly filled out the cop's uniform. The two cops now stood in front of
the girl, the young cop wheezing from the effort of heaving his heft out of
the car and across the 10 feet of roadway. He was clearly massively out of
shape. The girl looked both cops up and down and, maybe unconsciously, licked
her lips. The cops felt her eyes bore through them and over them and felt
uncomfortable yet aroused. The sergeant spoke first.

"Miss, can you sit in our squad car, please, while we speak to the other
occupants of your vehicle?" The girl said nothing, staring at the two officers
in turn. The cops shifted uneasily on their feet.

"Miss, do you understand me?" the sergeant asked?

"Do you speak English?" asked the lardy cop.

Still no response.

"Smith, take her to the squad car while I go to speak to the driver." The
sergeant looked at the young cop and motioned her to take the hot girl to the
police car. The young cop went to take the girl by the arm but, as he was
about to put his hand on her sleek yet muscular forearm, the girl loudly
tutted and slowly shook her head. She had a natural authority in her manner
and the young cop instinctively stopped in his tracks, his powder white,
chubby hand hanging in midair.

"If you put that hand on me, I'll break it." She spoke quietly, her voice dark
and lush and sexy, dripping with sex appeal and menace. The two cops were
non-plussed: had they heard her correctly?

"I beg your pardon, miss?" asked the fat cop.

"If you put that hand on me, I'll break it."

Now, to hear such a hot babe threaten to break a cop's hand with such
effortless superiority might have usually led to laughter from the cops, or
anger, or incredulity. But not now. The cops looked at her and they knew she
wasn't joking or making an empty threat. She looked like she thought she could
do it. And, now they took another look at her physique (the fat cop especially
looked at her longingly) they thought she looked extremely capable and
dangerous. She broke the moment of silence.

"You should both turn round, get back in your squad car and clear the road. Do
it now. Do it now and you can go home and see your kids tonight. If you don't
you'll be extremely sorry." She still spoke quietly but with a voice that
demanded to be obeyed. "Move." Now she raised her voice a little and this
seemed to wake the cops out of their baffled and scared silence.

"Miss, we don't want to have to arrest you but if you continue to obstruct us
then we'll have no alternative." The sergeant moved towards her, while the fat
cop instinctively placed his other hand on his nightstick hanging from his
waist-stretched belt, his other hand still inches above her forearm. She now
focused solely on the sergeant, her stern expression stopping him in his
tracks.

"If you try to arrest me, I'll break every bone in your body. Don't think I
can't, because I can and don't think I won't, because I will."

There seemed to be a Mexican stand off, with both officers warily holding
their ground but no longer advancing on this quiet, menacing, super-fit woman.
Back in the car, Briggs and Barry watched: Barry nervous, Briggs noticeably
relaxed. Barry looked at Briggs nervously:

"Are you sure about this, boss? They'll murder her."

Briggs grinned and shook his head heavily: "Oh no they won't. What they don't
know is that they're already dead."

Back outside, no-one spoke. The sergeant, no longer advancing on the girl,
broke the silence.

"What's your name, miss?" He spoke politely, courteously. He clearly
appreciated the risk she posed and had decided to play for time, giving him
time to think out the next moves.

"Phythian. Zara Phythian. Ever heard of me?"

The sergeant hadn't, though the name sounded exotic. However, the young cop
reacted immediately, before checking himself. The cop, despite being in
shockingly poor physical shape, had a major fetish for fit, muscular,
aggressive women. Sure, he knew all about Zara Phythian. He knew she was - is
- a major hottie. Also, she was a very skilled martial artist, stunt woman and
actress. That said, he hadn't noticed much new news about her on the internet
for the previous 12 months. So, this was what she was up to now ... ... Zara
smiled, as she could see the fat cop knew about her and she guessed how and
why he did. She also guessed, from his trying to mask his knowledge, that his
penchant for alpha females was a secret.

"I'll sweeten the deal. Go now and I'll give tubby here an autographed 8 by
11. Something for you to jerk off to, fatso." She grinned sweetly and cocked
her head to one side. "Got a girlfriend?"

The fat cop reddened but didn't answer. He was so confused: utterly turned on,
totally afraid and now massively ashamed that his fetish was coming out.

"I'll bet you have a girlfriend, sure you do. Probably wide in the seat and
deep in the gut. Not like me, eh?" She winked and then loudly slapped her
hands on her own torso. It sounded like someone slapping a firm joint of meat.
"You can't see them but you can hear my abs - they're like bricks." She
prodded the fat cop in the gut, he was that close to her, still frozen. Her
long, elegant finger almost disappeared in a fold of flab.

"Jesus, you're one massive fat bastard."

"Right, that's enough of that. Miss, I'm arresting you for ... ." the sergeant
started to speak as he now reached for his handcuffs. That's as far as he got.
The fat cop was drawing his ASP then there was a flurry of action. Taking her
right hand, she drove the palm of the hand into the nose of the fat cop. There
was a burst of blood and the cop fell backwards, his nightstick now out of his
grasp but held to his wrist by a loop of leather. Almost simultaneously, she
back hand slapped the sergeant. The force from this bitch slap knocked the
sergeant off his feet. Within 3 seconds, both cops were on the floor, bloody
faced and hazy-headed. Zara stood over them, hands clenched into fists by her
sides.

"Now, I know that you fat-arse cops can't fight your way out of a soggy, paper
bag. I read that you do what ... .2 days worth of "unarmed combat" training a
year?"

Zara snickered. As she said 'unarmed combat' she made the little inverted
comma signs in the air with her hands, showing her contempt for what passed as
fight-training in police college.

"I do that amount of training in a day. Along with a lot of heavy weight
training, stamina work, gymnastics, modern dance and ballet. Dance and ballet
are incredible for core strength and flexibility."

She slowly circled the two, prone men.

"Let me tell you what I can do. I have black belts in seven separate martial
arts, including 3rd Dan in Tae Kwon Do, 2nd Dan in kickboxing, 3rd Dan in
Shotokan Karate and a 2nd Dan in San Ryu Du. I have been the World Martial
Arts champion for 13 occasions. I used to use these skills to teach but that
really didn't pay. Then I realised that the big money was in providing skilled
muscle for the less well-intentioned."

The two cops were quaking with fear - they knew they didn't stand a chance
against this Alpha female and that they were in the last minutes of their
lives. She spoke again.

"I could have killed each of you with my bare hands within a few seconds of
contact - but I didn't want to do that. I want to play with you. I want to
fight each of you - separately or together - woman to man." The fat cop wasn't
moving, he was in too much pain from his broken nose. He was also utterly
turned on and was lusting after her, even as he lay slumped there. She sensed
this and smiled at him, almost with tenderness.

"Oh, I see what you're thinking. Ok, tell you what. I'm going to give you an
even bigger treat."

With that, she unzipped her little black party dress, letting it fall to the
floor. Underneath, she was wearing a sports bra and very tight, lycra briefs.
Her whole body was now on display. She was really an incredible physical
specimen - tanned, taut, firm, hard muscle everywhere. Rock hard abs, a true 6
pack. She even did a little twirl for them, pirouetting like a ballerina,
showing her hard granite-like calves and quads, tight hard rock-like glutes.
Awesome shoulders and biceps. She now stood, hands on hips.

"Ok, who's first? Or both together? I've a feeling that fatty there would
prefer to watch, right tubs?" She winked at the fat cop and it was true, he
was still making no effort to move. The sergeant had stood up, though. She
watched him, again looking him up and down, gauging what threat he posed; she
smiled, practically no threat. He was still unarmed. She nodded her head
towards his ASP, hanging from his belt.

"Tell you what, old-timer. As you're game enough to try to fight me, I'll let
you draw your truncheon. Won't make any difference - I'm still going to kick
the shit out of you - but at least it'll give me a scintilla more of a
challenge. I wish there were more of you fat fuck cops here to deal with. Oh
well, two will have to do." She looked again at the fat cop and took care to
check out his groin area - oh yes, he was enjoying the show. "I'll get to you
in a mo, sweetheart."

The sergeant had drawn his nightstick and held it in the 'en garde' pose,
raised over his shoulder while he held out his other arm in front of him. She
still hadn't adopted a fighting pose, her hands still on her hips, leaving her
whole body exposed to his blow. This was just how contemptuous she was of the
trained policeman and how utterly confident she was in her ability. She slowly
raised her left leg and held it at the chamber, her folded, muscular leg at a
perfect 90 degree angle to her tall, strong body. She then began to throw
shadow kicks at the sergeant starting slowly but getting faster and faster.
She was doing this effortlessly, with perfect form, smiling all the while.
With every move she moved a little closer to the sergeant with her hard,
booted foot, until the boot was brushing his face. She then stopped, dropped
her leg and looked at the cop coldly.

"That's what you're dealing with, my brave sergeant. I think you can see that
you don't stand a chance. And I think you'll see that your colleague has got a
massive boner."

It was true, the fat cop was almost exploding in his trousers. This was the
girl of his dreams doing all of those things he loved to see women do - and
what his fat, frumpy, lumpen girlfriend couldn't do.

Now, the sergeant moved. He swung at her once, twice, three times. Each time
she ducked, dodged and weaved; under, over, around the clumsily wielded
nightstick. This went on for just a few seconds, but the sergeant was turning
red in the face, partly from his being unaccustomed to physical exertion and
partly from the humiliation of this girl, who was probably less than half his
age making a fool of him. He stopped, panting. She stood still and looked at
him.

"Fucking pathetic. You've got to be joking. That's it? That's all you've got,
old-timer? You don't deserve to be a policeman; if you can't fight an unarmed
girl, what right do you have to pretend you can defend the public?" She shook
her head and again, licked her lips.

"Do you have a family?"

"Yes," he replied. "A wife, a daughter and a son."

"Pictures in your wallet?" He nodded. "Give them to me." He didn't respond
immediately, but rather he went to raise his nightstick again. Clearly, Zara
had had enough of this for the moment, so she threw her right leg up in a
perfect straight-legged high kick, straight into his nose. He staggered
backwards, she moved on him and roundhoused him in the gut. The air left his
body, he began to fall forwards. She wasn't done with him, grabbing his right
arm and turning her body into his, executing a perfect judo throw. As he fell
onto his back, she acrobatically straddled his chest, executing a perfect 180
degree split on his frail body. She immediately drew her fist back and held it
inches above his throat, ready to strike. She rabbit punched him in his
throat, he began to choke and splutter. She powered herself off him, using
only her strong, muscular arms in a gymnast move, now in a perfect handstand.
She then crouched down again, roughly turned him onto his front and frisked
him. She found his wallet in his back pocket, took it out and stood up,
turning her back on both cops. She whistled when the found what she was
looking for.

"Your wife is as ugly as sin," she snickered. "Ahhh ... what's this? This must
be your son?" The sergeant had stopped choking now but made no effort to get
up. She was holding a picture of a heavy set, smiling young man in the uniform
of an Army private.

"Ahh, he's a soldier? He looks as big a sack of fat shit as your partner
here." She threw a disdainful look at the fat cop. "I got into a fight a few
months ago in Colchester. I sent two Guardsmen to the hospital, along with two
Military Policemen and three female civilian cops who tried to arrest me. They
couldn't believe how buff and tough I was!" She found another picture, this of
a beautiful teenage girl, probably 18 or 19 in a white karate gi, with a black
belt.

"Ah, your daughter looks a much better fighter than any of you. Good for her.
She's a black belt?"

"Yes, black belt in karate and in taekwondo."

"Awesome. You know, sarge, that in that case, your daughter could easily knock
the stuffing out of you? Happened yet?"

"No."

"It will." She chuckled. "Rather, it won't as you won't be seeing your family
ever again. I might, though, maybe pay them a visit."

The sergeant slowly got to his feet. Zara did nothing to prevent this, rather
she stood there, head cocked to one side, watching him struggle. As soon as he
was standing, she struck. She kicked him in the back of each leg, just once,
but the sound was sickening, that of bone breaking. The sergeant fell to the
ground, screaming. Zara seemed angry.

"Damn, old timer. Your bones are as brittle as a 90 year old woman's. I only
applied 25% of my power there, I wanted just to hurt you as I had a great
combination planned. Now you're back on the floor. You've got no fight left,
look at you."

She was right, the sergeant was a heap on the ground. Zara looked at the fat
young cop.

"How do you want me to finish him off?" As she asked, she did a double bicep
pose. The muscles popped under her smooth, silky tanned skin. The fat cop
practically drooled. She smiled and leant down to him.

"Kiss my bicep." He did as he was told. She playfully slapped him in his fat
face.

"You're next."

She lifted the sergeant up, her muscular body taut with the effort. She placed
one arm around his neck, the bicep now flexing aggressively.

"I think I'll strangle you."

The sergeant pawed at her arm, his weak hands and arms no match for her
superior upper body strength. She shifted him round, so he was now facing the
fat cop. The sergeant's eyes were terrified. A line of scum was forming around
his lips, the oxygen to his brain cut. He stopped moving, she let him drop to
the ground. Dead, stone dead. She leant down to the younger cop.

"You like alpha women, don't you? You love the idea of a beautiful woman with
a buff, killer body who can turn you inside out. Ever had one?"

The fat cop shook his head. She looked him over, letting her eyes run over his
corpulent, weak torso.

"Ok, I've got an idea. You've got a fetish for women like me, oddly I have a
fetish for guys like you. Big, soft, weak guys I can easily control. I
sometimes go out to nightclubs just to pick up these guys. I drive them crazy
at the club, I usually bust some moves, just to show my athleticism,
flexibility and strength. These are guys who'd break out into a sweat opening
the cardboard box on an oven-bake family sized pizza. Then, I take them home
and I put on a show for them. Then, I break them apart. Sometimes, I use just
my fists or just my feet. Other times, I wrestle them. I love the moment when
the pleasure in their eyes turns to terror. It's just such a great feeling, to
be with a guy who weighs twice what I do and he can't do a single thing to
stop me. I just love being so much harder, in every sense of the word."

(end of part one)

(feedback and comments to heynow50000@yahoo.com)