Mata Cleans Up Casablanca
by Dreadnaught
Mata Hari and friend get sent on a mission to Casablanca.



     Heads turned on the deck of the small cruise ship as she
strode by, and numerous eyes followed her. She felt them all, and
loved their attentions. She knew their owners couldn't help
themselves. 
     The tall, svelte but voluptuous blonde breathed in the fresh
sea air as she toured the small ship. The soft breeze blew at the
light fabric of her summery, colorful dress, the sun beat down on
her parasol, and the clicking of her high heels on the wooden deck
alerted the male passengers of her approach. Then they couldn't
take their eyes off of her. She knew the effect she had on them.
Her outfit was generally unrevealing, but that was all the better.
She knew she tempted and tantalized all the men merely with her
presence. She would sometimes give them a lingering smile as they
stared, or pause along the deck and lean slightly over the railing,
savoring the beautiful day and the sight and smell of the fresh
ocean wind. And she would chuckle as the female companions of the
men who appreciated her would express their discomfort with loud
throat clearings or try pulling their men off elsewhere. They can't
help themselves, ladies, she would think. They're only men. They
can't change their inherent weaknesses.
     On the way back to her cabin, she passed a couple of the
ship's officers. They both bowed slightly to the lovely blonde,
tipping their caps, all smiles. She smiled and breezed past them,
instinctively feeling their peering eyes fixing on each inch of her
shapely, curvaceous figure from behind, deluding themselves with
the belief she didn't know they were watching her. Fortunately, she
loved the attention, loved being watched by men. She knew the real
power that gave her.
     Entering her rather spacious cabin on the liner, she closed
and locked the door behind her. She sat on the edge of her bed,
easing her feet out of her heels, and opened her purse, removing
the message she had received two days ago from her purse along with
the decoded version she had written herself. The best place to
carry top-secret documents like these was her purse. She knew few
men would be brave enough to try searching a lady's purse while she
was carrying it. She also knew her own abilities would insure no
man would try and succeed.
     She read her written note.

                                            June 28, 1916.

     You are to proceed to port at once. You will find you have
been booked passage on the cruise ship "Jeanne D'Arc" to
Casablanca. Germany is attempting to provoke a rebellion in
Morocco, to require France to divert troops to quash it. The one
man who is the major obstacle to this plan is the sultan's advisor,
Salim Khalif. His pro-French influence has swayed the sultan into
appeasing his people's anti-colonialist inclinations.
     In Casablanca you will meet your contact for this mission at
the docks, Sigmund Stein. He will take you to the hotel Khalif will
be staying at. Your objective is to capture him for questioning and
secret deportation to Germany. Your reward will be waiting upon
completion of the mission.

     Taking the two sheets of paper into the bathroom, Mata Hari
dropped them into the sink and struck a match. She thought deeply
as she watched the papers catch and begin to burn. Mata disliked
having to work with men; their weaknesses were universal. Easily
distracted by her considerable charms, they often displayed very
poor judgement. Weak, cowardly, inept, all the men she had been
forced to work with, and she knew Stein would be no exception.
Still, she had her mission, and her reward was waiting. That was
all she needed. She washed the smoldering remnants of her orders
down the sink and began to prepare her plans. 

     All eyes seemed to be on her as she descended the ramp of the
small boat onto the docks. Her every step seemed like poetry to the
men scrutinizing her, every time the warm, dry breeze caught a wisp
of her dress and lifted it slightly and revealed a bit more leg
caused several sharp inhales. Mata appreciated the attention but
chose not to play for it now. She had business to attend to.
     She strolled down the dock looking for her contact. She'd know
him when she spotted him, since he was probably a copy of all the
other contacts she'd ever had.. ah, there he was.
     A nervously fidgeting, skinny, pale man stood looking
awkwardly around the port. He seemed to jump when he found Mata
standing next to him. "You must be Sigmund."
     He gaped in awe at the buxom, beautifully statuesque blonde,
and Mata found herself sighing internally. Another one, she
thought. "Uh.. yes, I am. Yes," he stammered. He looked around
anxiously, unwittingly attracting attention by his jitteriness.
People began to stare at the couple.
     Mata whispered urgently, "Calm down. We do not need the
attention you're drawing." Then she smiled and offered him her
suitcase. In her normal voice, she said, "Pleased to meet you.
Shall we go? We have many sights to see."
     Mata could not suppress her giggle as she deftly handed him
her luggage, only to find it weighed rather more than he had
expected. He nearly dropped it on his own foot before he grabbed it
in both hands. He gave her a shocked look as he realized the
trouble he was having lifting something she had carried easily in
one hand. "Huh, men," she laughed effervescently. "Come, Siggy,"
she commanded. He scurried after her as she strode off.
     "Did you get rooms in the hotel where Khalif is staying?" she
asked.
     "Er, yes," he puffed behind her as they headed through the
crowded Casablanca streets. "You were just in time, too. He's
departing for Fez tomorrow morning."
     "Excellent!" She allowed him to catch up to her slightly
before picking up her pace again, smiling devilishly as Sigmund
struggled along behind her.

     Mata turned the key in the lock and opened the door to a
luxuriously appointed hotel suite. "Perfect!" she declared. "Siggy,
you may set my suitcase on the bed."
     He panted and puffed as he lugged her case into the room and
onto the bed. "Phew! What did you bring, a machine gun?"
     Locking the door behind her, she chuckled at him. "Hardly,
just some of the necessities a woman needs when she travels. Bit
too heavy for you, was it?"
     Sigmund tried to stand up straight and tall, only to face pain
as he stretched his muscles. His face involuntarily twisted into a
grimace, much to Mata's amusement. "Ugh," was all he managed to
say.
     "Glad to hear it," she laughed. "Besides, I hardly need a
machine gun for what we're doing. Kidnapping one man doesn't seem
like much of a challenge."
     The skinny man eased himself gingerly into a well-cushioned
chair. "It isn't?" he groaned.
     "Handling men was what I was trained for, Siggy. Believe me,
I have many, many weapons in my arsenal for that purpose," she
grinned slyly.
     He tried to avoid salivating as he spoke. "I'd heard that
about you. Mata Hari, the legendary female spy. I'd heard you could
seduce any man on the planet. I.. I hadn't really believed it,
until now.."
     "Siggy, Siggy!" she interrupted with a smile. "As much as I
appreciate your compliments, we do have business to attend to."
     "Oh.. oh yes, of course. Of course." He made a rather feeble
effort to control his desires and his hormones.
     "Now, I assume you've kept our friend Mr. Khalif under
surveillance?"
     "Yes. Yes, I've been watching him for a few days now."
     "..And?"
     Mata sighed as he tried drawing his attention off her luscious
body and back to the matter at hand. "What? Oh! Um, well, he
occupies most of the floor directly below us. As I said, he and his
entourage are leaving for Fez tomorrow morning."
     "Ah. So we indeed do not have much time to strike." Mata
mulled the matter over for a moment, choosing to interrupt
Sigmund's lascivious thoughts once it seemed his attention was
rivetted on her protruding breasts. "What about his guards? How
many does he have?" she demanded.
     "Huh?" Sigmund ricocheted back to reality once more. "Oh, he
has three. Hassan, Abdul, and Rakim. At least those are the three
he seems to favor. They guard him night and day."
     "Is there any point in the day when they leave him unguarded?"
     "Well, there is a point in the evening when two of them go for
dinner, but apart from that.. Uh, I don't suppose they go to the
lavatory with him, but you never know.."
     "I see." Mata thought for another moment, then smiled. "We
don't really have the luxury of waiting for the precise moment to
strike. Ah well, three bodyguards will add to the challenge."
     "I.. I don't understand," Sigmund said as he examined the
amused blonde quizzically. "How can we get past them?"
     "You mean how can I get past them, Siggy. You won't be
involved. You would just get in my way."
     "I still don't see. You were uh, planning to seduce four men
at once?"
     The girl laughed. "Ha! Hardly. I have other means at my
disposal."
     "Hmm.. like what?"
     "Siggy, you have been so busy looking at my breasts and trying
to see up my dress you've neglected to see many things." She
seductively strode up to him, balling a fist and flexing her arm.
"Look at this." 
     As she flexed, a hard and firm bicep sprung to life and her
very attractive frame suddenly seemed immensely more powerful. Her
arm was not huge, but the muscles were very solid and pronounced
without distracting from her femininity. Mata smiled sweetly. "If
necessary, I will batter my way past them."
     "Wh.. what?"
     "You heard me. I have been trained in several different
fighting forms, Siggy. I am more than capable of defeating a
considerable number of men in unarmed combat."
     Sigmund just sputtered. He was overwhelmed. "B.. batter? You?
Three bodyguards?"
     Mata's grin lit the room. "Feel," she instructed, taking his
hand and placing it on her arm. The bicep felt like brick under his
fingers, and he reacted very predictably. His eyes widened in
surprise, and the crotch of his trousers began to bulge.
     "Believe me, Khalif's guards wouldn't stand a chance."
     "I.. I believe you.."
     "Good boy," she cooed, shrugging his hand away and lowering
her arm, turning away and immersing herself in thought. "Still,
that would not be the best way, so we should leave that option as
a last resort. It would be better to try and kidnap Khalif unseen,
so as to minimize the chance of suspicion of a German connection.
In this case stealth will make a better weapon than force."
     The thin man was still in awe, and having difficulty hiding
it. "I a.. agree. But how can we get past them?"
     The blonde amazon needed no more time to work out a plan.
"What time do the guards go for dinner?"
     "Uh.. around 7. But remember, one always stays behind.."
     "No matter. Excellent, that gives us a half hour to observe
them. Siggy, your job will be to keep that guard occupied."
     "What? How?"
     Mata giggled. "Oh, I'm sure you can keep him fixated with your
dazzling conversational skills."
     Sigmund bristled uncomfortably. "But what will you do? Khalif
will surely call for his guards when he sees you."
     "You think so?" With a broad smile, Mata swept her suitcase
off the bed and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind
her.
     Sigmund waited for her to emerge, puzzled, impatient.
     When the door opened, he saw the most stunning sight he'd ever
been fortunate enough to witness. The girl had changed into a
wonderful red silk outfit. A relatively thick top clung to her full
breasts and part of her broad shoulders, but revealed her bare
midriff. A very skimpy bottom covered her crotch but not much else.
A very thin and sheer wrapped skirt covered but very daringly
revealed her long, sexy legs. Her blonde hair was tied beneath a
flat red hat, from which a veil was drawn over her face, revealing
only the sultry, piercing eyes. Red stiletto-heeled pumps completed
the striking image.
     Mata posed provocatively as she emerged, resting a hand on her
hip. "Do you still think he'll call his guards, Siggy? Would you?"
     A small trickle of saliva fell from the corner of his lips as
he stared at the beautiful, enticing girl. "N.. no.. oh my.."
     "Good. Now, if you can control yourself, we have much to do."

     Twenty minutes later, Mata and Sigmund were hidden in the
shadows at the end of a wide, long passage. The windowless hallway
was lit only by flickering lanterns. It was thickly carpeted, and
had several large marble statues along its length.
     The two spies wore identical black cloaks, covering themselves
from head to toe. They were no different from the standard robes
worn by Moroccans.
     At the other end of the corridor was a large pair of wooden
doors. Three large, bare-chested men with wide, billowing trousers
stood before the door.
     "The black one is Rakim," Sigmund whispered. "The bearded one
is Hassan."
     "Hmmm," Mata mused.
     "What are you thinking?" A tone of dread had crept into
Sigmund's voice.
     "I'm thinking I have beaten three men in the past. It would
not be a difficult thing to do again."
     "Speak for yourself," he quickly replied. "I think one of
those monsters could kill me bare-handed."
     "Oh, no doubt," Mata smiled. "But don't worry, Siggy. I
wouldn't dare ask you to fight one of these brutes. If it comes
down to it, I will take them myself. Just make sure to stay out of
it. A man as puny as you would just get in my way."
     Sigmund grumbled disparagingly at the girl, then checked his
pocket watch. "It's almost 7."
     Almost as if on cue, the black guard and the bearded guard
exchanged brief words with their younger associate, then came down
the hallway towards the two spies. They walked past, unaware of
their presence. 
     "Excellent," Mata murmured. "On to the next phase. Remove your
robe, and keep the guard distracted."
     "Wh.. what am I supposed to talk to him about?"
     "I don't care. The weather, the birds and the bees, anything.
Just make sure he's distracted. And signal me if the others
return."
     As Sigmund began to remove the black robe, Mata began quickly
and quietly to make her way, unseen and unheard, towards the doors.
Sigmund didn't get the chance to ask exactly how he was supposed to
signal her.
     The guard didn't notice the black-clad figure stealthily
moving through the shadows behind the large marble statues towards
the doors he was guarding. On the other hand, he did notice the
unimpressive little man appear at the end of the hall and begin to
wander towards him. "You're not supposed to be loitering around
here," Abdul barked.
     The little man continued to slowly approach him. "Oh, uh.. I'm
not, not really. I.. I'm sort of lost.."
     Abdul snarled and began to approach him. "I don't care, no one
is allowed in this area!"
     "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know," Sigmund spluttered as the
guard towered over him. "Uh, can you tell me the way to the docks?
I really do not know Casablanca very well at all, I'm afraid.."
     The guard's eyes, flashing with annoyance, didn't catch the
brief glimpse of Mata's shadowy form as she opened the doors
silently, just enough to slip through.

     In the large room behind the doors, a lavish carpet covered
the floor from wall to wall. A large window had its blinds drawn
against the still-blistering early evening sun. A large, heavy
table had four matching chairs drawn around it. At the end of the
table sat an olive-skinned man, in a suit not that different from
Sigmund's. A khaffiya was drawn around his head and shoulders as he
busily wrote amidst a stack of papers.
     Khalif didn't notice the movement in the room with him until
after the doors were shut behind the black-robed figure. "What?!"
he spat. "What is the meaning of this intrusion, woman? Get out
before I call my guards and have you thrown out!"
     "Oh, I don't think you'll do that," a silken female voice
replied in a sultry whisper.
     Khalif was stunned by the voice alone. "Wh.. why not?"
     "I am here for your pleasure, Salim Khalif. I am yours
tonight."
     The woman had been slowly walking across the room towards him,
and as Khalif watched her, she moved her hands down to part the
long, black robe. Her stride brought a long, smooth and luscious
leg from beneath the folds of the fabric. The man was transfixed.
     Mata smiled as she slowly peeled off the robe and let it drop,
knowing the advisor's attention was fully fixed on her lithe,
seductive body. She began her dance.
     Khalif sat in awe, watching this strange, beautiful woman come
towards him, hips swaying, her muscled abs rippling sensuously. She
came very close to him as she began her exotic, enticing belly
dance. Her skimpy costume covered very little, and seemed to reveal
all, of her alluring, captivating physique. Mata smiled behind her
thin veil as she watched the man respond to her undeniable charms.
     Her hips gyrating ever more quickly, she turned and faced away
from him, grinning at the little gasp he emitted as he admired the
firm, tight buns, and the long, curvaceous legs. Turning back to
him, she saw the lustful look in his eyes and knew he was hers for
the taking.

     Outside, Sigmund was not having such an easy time.
     "I am telling you, little man, if you do not leave now, I will
throw you out!" the bodyguard informed him firmly.
     "Oh please sir, I am but a humble traveller. Surely you can
spare but a moment to tell me some of the more important areas of
the city?" Sigmund was starting to sweat. He obviously couldn't
keep this guard busy much longer. How long did he have to keep the
guard occupied, anyways? Mata hadn't told him.
     The guard growled down at him as he prayed..

     Khalif sat slack-jawed as he watched the dancer. Her body was
perfect, her every move exquisite. He watched her stride slowly
towards him, her round breasts, slim hips and waist, long legs, all
mere inches from him. A sweet perfume added to his arousal, the
silk of her wraparound miniskirt brushing against his hand as she
walked around him. It felt so soft and sheer.. 
     The man could contain himself no longer. He shoved his chair
back and let his desires overwhelm him. He took the blonde dancer's
arms firmly in his hands, pushing her back against the table. 
     "I must have you," he urgently hissed, pressing tightly
against her to let her know the full extent of his arousal.
     He heard her light laugh behind the veil and looked,
entranced, into the light blue eyes. "You honor me, my lord.. but
let us not be so hasty. I will be a much greater prize if I prolong
your pleasure, will I not?"
     She gently but firmly took his hands from her, guiding him
around to face away from her. She then pulled him back against her.
Her legs entwined with his, one hand came around to caress his
chest, the other headed for his engorged penis, which throbbed
painfully in its confined space in his trousers.. he moaned in
rapture. Then the hand which was carressing his chest moved up,
towards his neck..
     And in an instant his ecstasy was gone. That hand had thrown
itself around his neck, and her powerful arm was now crushing his
throat. The hand that had been stroking him below was helping
solidify her hold on his neck. Her legs had shot up and wrapped
around his middle, her ankles locking together before him and
crushing his ribs painfully. He was overcome with shock, then
instinctively tried crying for help.
     His cry never emerged. He quickly found he could not draw
enough air to scream. How could this woman, who had been very
successfully seducing him just a second earlier, have the strength
to render him so helpless?
     "Just where I wanted you, Khalif," a voice purred in his ear
as he began to get lightheaded. His struggles to pull the girl's
arms away from his neck were having absolutely no effect. "Don't
fight me. The more you struggle, the more pain you will cause
yourself. You don't have the strength to get free."
     His eyes began to glaze over, his gasping attempts to breathe
becoming weaker and weaker, as did his struggles to pull her strong
arms away. Mata smiled as her victim began to slip into
unconsciousness. "I'm sorry I don't have the time to play with you
more. That's it, go to sleep, little man.."
     Khalif's arms dropped limply to his sides, and his head
slumped forward against the intense pressure she put on his
windpipe. Mata released him almost instantly, keeping him on his
feet, and gently taking him over to his chair and sitting him down.
Now all she had to do was get him out of here.

     Sigmund protested as the guard placed a heavy hand on his
shoulder. "You are leaving now!" Abdul barked.
     "Really, I must insist you unhand me, sir!" The bodyguard did
not comply. Instead he firmly guided Sigmund down the hall, away
from Khalif's chamber. He was beginning to panic when he was
suddenly given good reason to be very nervous.
     Khalif's other two bodyguards were coming down the hall
towards them.
     Rakim stopped and addressed Abdul, while Hassan moved on
towards the main doors. Sigmund knew he could do nothing to stop
the three large men. "What is this?" Rakim asked.
     "A pest! He claims he is lost and wants directions." Abdul
brought himself down low enough to yell in Sigmund's face. "He can
get them at the front desk!"
     Rakim snorted amusedly, then spun around as the shocked voice
of Hassan came from the open doorway. 
     "What is this?!"

     Hassan could not believe the sight that lay before him. A
beautiful blonde, clad in a fiery red, virtually nonexistent
dancer's costume, stood over Khalif, who was slumped back in his
chair, obviously unconscious. Despite the veil covering most of her
face, he could sense exasperation as he walked in. What was going
on here??
     "Wh.. what have you done, woman?!" He tried to mask the shock
in his voice unsuccessfully. He glanced back over his shoulder to
see the other two bodyguards join him, equally alarmed by what they
saw. At least he knew now he wasn't hallucinating.
     The statuesque blonde faced them, and began slowly walking
around to the other side of the long table. "Gentlemen, you will
leave now," she instructed them quietly. "I have business with your
master. I will not let you interfere with it."
     Hassan swallowed back his uneasiness. "Who do you think you
are? We have sworn to protect this man. We will kill anyone who
threatens him. Even a woman." The three men moved into the room to
confront her.
     The girl seemed amused. "Who am I? I am a woman unlike any you
will ever meet, my friends. Let me demonstrate." 
     As the astonished men watched, Mata slowly raised her long
leg, leisurely kicking it up, her foot high above her head in an
amazing show of poise and balance. The men were still appreciating
her grace when she dropped her leg swiftly, her high-heeled shoe
coming down hard on one of the heavy wooden chairs. It smashed to
splinters under her foot.
     The men gaped in disbelief. The show of strength had precisely
the effect Mata had hoped it would have. The trio of bodyguards
quickly and obviously lost most of their confidence. The youngest
one, Abdul, began backing towards the doors in terror of the
powerful amazon woman.
     "Would you still challenge me?" she asked.
     "W.. we have no choice," Hassan timidly replied.
     "Just because you are strong does not mean you can resist us,"
the black bodyguard, Rakim, added hopefully.
     Buoyed by Rakim's support, Hassan felt somewhat more
confident. "We are three. You are but one woman. Fight us and we
will kill you!"
     Mata smiled in anticipation. "Very well. But I will warn you
now, I do not plan on dying on this fine evening." She remained
where she was and adopted a loose fighting stance.
     Hassan and Rakim exchanged puzzled, worried glances. Hassan
swallowed deeply, turned and moved slowly towards her. He reached
towards her, planning to seize her in his strong arms, render her
helpless in his strong arms, and eject her with a minimum amount of
fuss.
     His plan was rudely interrupted by the toe of her shoe
slamming into his stomach. Hassan felt as if he had been stabbed,
the pain was so intense. He cried in pain and bent around her foot.
     Mata quickly shifted forward, next to the guard. She smoothly
performed a turn on her toes, raising her leg and landing a kick to
the small of the big man's back. He grunted and grabbed at his back
as he stumbled forward, dropping to his knees.
     The veiled girl then spun around and sent her lovely leg
rocketing up once again, this time kicking the charging Rakim right
in the face. "Ummmph!!" he grunted as the shapely girl's foot spun
him around and floored him.
     Abdul stood with his back to the doors, unable to move, both
fascinated and horrified by the scene that was playing itself out
before him. He knew he should jump in the fight as well, but he was
terrified. A woman of such strength, such power.. she could not be
natural. She must be a demon sent to take their souls. She would
defeat them with her bare hands and destroy them utterly. 
     Mata whirled on Hassan as he clambered back to his feet. He
turned to face her as she cocked her fist. Her punch clipped his
jaw with a whack. He gasped in pain as he staggered back against
the table.
     Shaking off the pain as quickly as he could, he reached down
to his scabbard and began to try to draw his dagger. The blonde
amazon quickly took his upper arm in a steely grasp as he
unsheathed his weapon. Her free hand quickly punched him in the
stomach as he tried to free himself. "Oooooh!" the big man cried,
bending in two. He saw his dagger drop to the floor at the red
heels of the amazon, who quickly kicked the weapon across the
carpeted floor, out of reach. Then he saw stars as Mata brought a
fist down hard on his shoulders. Hassan again sank to his knees
under her powerful blow.
     She had no time to react before Rakim was on her from behind.
The black man quickly wrapped his arms around her and began
crushing as he locked his grip. She grunted lightly under the
pressure. "Hassan, I have her! Get up!" he called to his stunned
companion frantically as she began to struggle.
     Abdul watched from his vantage point. Demons do not surrender
so easily, he thought to himself. He still could not force himself
to run. There was very little point, anyway. She would take his
soul whether he hid or not at this point.
     Hassan grumbled as he slowly stood before Mata. Rage boiled in
his eyes. "You will pay for what you have done to us, woman," he
vowed in a low voice.
     Behind the veil, she grinned as she ceased struggling in
Rakim's grasp. "You think so?" Her right leg came up and around in
a graceful curve, the side of her high-heeled shoe smashing into
Hassan's face at the temple at the height of her kick. "UUUNGH!" He
sprawled across the table awkwardly. 
     Rakim's eyes bulged with a mixture of astonishment and fear as
he felt Mata's expand under the grasp of his arms. She flexed the
solid muscles of her arms, and the bodyguard quickly found his grip
slipping loose as she raised her arms. "No... oooof!" the man
grunted as she got herself free enough to drive an elbow back hard
into his gut. His hold on the blonde dropped completely, and she
quickly spun on him, both fists knotted together, the punch
blasting into the side of his chin. 
     Mata allowed herself a smile of satisfaction as she watched
Rakim bounce off the table heavily, to the ground. "It's a pity the
advisor doesn't have a few more bodyguards like you. Then maybe
you'd actually stand a chance," she taunted.

     Abdul's heart and mind raced as he watched the fight proceed.
Whoever, whatever she was, this demon-woman was an amazing fighter.
The other two bodyguards were not going to be able to lay a hand on
her to stop her. How could he save himself? Even more, should he?
As he watched her, he found himself attracted to this sultry,
mysterious female. The idea of her taking his soul was not as
unappealing as other forms of death he could think of, after all..

     Sigmund stood from the place on the floor where the bodyguard
had brusquely shoved him as they gathered into the room, closing
the door behind them. What could he do now? He knew Mata was now in
great danger. He blindly flailed away mentally, trying to come up
with some sort of scheme to save her.
     Soon afterwards, he began to hear cries of pain from behind
the doors, mixed with the sounds of a scuffle. The fight Mata had
predicted had started. Was she really going to be able to take on
those three brutes? Despite her self-confidence, he had his doubts.
She was outnumbered, and the men seemed huge to him. He had to do
something.
     He rushed to the doors, trying to push them open. They were
unlocked, but he couldn't budge them. What was holding them shut?
The sounds of the brawl continued as he pushed futilely at the
doors.

     Abdul stood frozen, keeping the doors shut behind him as he
cowered against them. He seemed aghast as Mata noted him, throwing
a flirtatious wink in his direction.
     She then confronted Hassan as he unsteadily got to his feet.
The scantily-dressed dancer shot a long leg up, kicking the man in
the kidney. The bearded man gasped and wrapped his arms around the
pain that shot through his middle. Paf, Mata's fist sent him
reeling back as she threw a crisp right to his chin.
     She turned back as Rakim yelled a battle cry. With his dagger
raised high over his head, he charged the veiled amazon. Mata met
him, grabbing his arm with both hands as he brought the dagger
down. The big man grunted with the exertion of trying to free
himself, to get himself loose from the crushing grasp she had on
his arm and strike her down with his blade.
     Mata kept his arm immobile as she stepped up to him, lifting
her knee solidly into his stomach. The wind loudly exploded from
Rakim's body once, then again as she repeated the move. Rakim
dropped the dagger as he stumbled away from her, clutching his
abdomen in agony. The girl quickly kicked the dagger away, under
the table. 
     Then she found herself being spun around, to face Hassan and
the onrushing punch he threw at her face. She ducked the wild
swing, and let her fist rip into the man's side, right under his
ribcage. "Aaagh!" he yelled, continuing to be amazed by her
strength. The guard was helpless to stop Mata as she stood back a
step and pivoted around, kicking out to her side. Her foot slammed
into his chest with a dull thud, and he shot back several steps
before falling flat on his back, stunned.
     Rakim was met as he straightened up by a vicious backhand slap
from the seductive female fighter. His head rocked with the blow,
and he had a brief, fleeting glimpse of her eyes before she shifted
to her side. They burned with a strange mixture of joy and
bloodlust. Then he quickly doubled up around her shapely leg as she
kicked him in the stomach.
     "Hhuuff!" the black man wheezed as Mata's kick blasted the
wind from him. She moved beside him, hitching him under the arm,
and expertly flipping him over her hip. Rakim crashed to the floor
and lay for several moments, trying to collect his strength.
     As both her opponents were very slow getting up this time,
Mata took the opportunity to tease them. Posing with her hands on
her hips, she grinned. "Impressive for a girl, hmm? Believe me,
boys, you will never be in another fight like this. I suggest you
enjoy it as much as I am."

     Abdul stared at the she-demon as she taunted her adversaries.
How a beautiful, alluring body such as hers could hand out such
punishment to the men with such ease was beyond him, but then, the
ways of the gods were supposed to be mysterious.
     He became aware of something trying to open the doors behind
him. He stood where he was, hands behind him, keeping the doors
shut. Probably more demons, seeking their way in to assist the
girl.. No. He would not allow them entry. If this woman was sent by
the gods to collect their souls, she would have to defeat them or
be defeated by herself.

     The sexy blonde dancer stood over him as Hassan staggered his
way back up to face her. "That's it, little man.. I have more pain
to give you. Come and get it."
     Growling, he stood and threw a punch at her veiled face. She
danced back easily out of the range of the devastating blow. He
prepared to deliver another, never seeing her kick coming. Her foot
smashed into his face with the force of a steam train, her high
kick sending him spinning around, rolling off the table to the
floor to moan in agony.
     Mata turned to find Rakim upon her. His hands slipped inside
her arms, locking around her throat and beginning to squeeze. "I
have you now, woman," he hissed as he tried strangling her.
     Her fists shot up and came crashing down, one on each of his
shoulders. "Unnnhgh!" he grunted, his legs going wobbily under her
blows. As he released her, she wound up and hurled a sharp right to
his eye. The punch knocked him around and down against the table.
He desperately tried clinging to it for support as he felt the
bruise around his eye begin to swell shut.
     Mata quickly strode up and lifted a long leg, bringing her
foot up against the back of his neck as he kneeled against the
table. She put the pressure on and began to crush his throat
against the table's edge. "You were saying?" she asked amusedly as
the black man began to gag and flail his arms uselessly as he
choked. The sole of her shoe kept him where he was. "I think you
were saying how strong I was, weren't you? Shall I prove it by
choking you to death, little boy?"
     Mata kept her foot on Rakim's throat for precious seconds, all
the while listening with pleasure to his weakening chokes and
gagging as he fought uselessly for breath. His arms clambered with
less and less strength as the blonde crushed his windpipe against
the table. She only let up as Hassan began making his way rather
feebly towards her once more. Then her high heel was gone from the
back of Rakim's neck, and he gasped and sagged face-down to the
floor.
     "Back for more, my plaything?" the veiled girl snickered as
Hassan stumbled towards her.
     He snarled. "I am no woman's plaything!" He shot a looping
punch at her chin.
     "That's where you're wrong." She easily ducked the blow, and
punched him solidly in the gut. He stepped away from her, fighting
the urge to retch. "I am playing with you, little man. I could
knock you out whenever I want. But inflicting pain, watching a man
fall to the fists of a mere girl, is much more fun, don't you
think?"
     Her humiliating dismissal of him enraged Hassan. He roared in
frustration and prepared to throw another punch, only to find his
roar becoming a bellow of pain as the long-legged dancer kicked him
in the midsection. He wrapped his arms around the point of her
foot's impact, just underneath his ribcage, and grimaced in agony.
     "But don't worry. You'll have time to deal with your bruised
ego. When I knock you out, you won't be waking until morning." With
a broad grin beneath the veil, Mata wound up for a punch. Whack,
her fist crashed into his face and sent him reeling back, to knock
against the chair the sultan's advisor was sleeping in. The big
man's impact sent Khalif slumping off to his side to spill onto the
floor.
     Hassan looked down at him, horrified. "Be careful, clumsy. You
wouldn't want to step on your master, would you?" He looked up at
the blonde amazon just as she punched him in the jaw.
     "Unnggh!" Mata's punch sent the bearded guard wobbling back
against the wall of the great chamber. He somehow managed to come
up with enough strength to stay vertical.

     Sigmund listened to the horrible cries of pain and sounds of
fighting from the other side of the door with growing panic. It
sounded like Mata was putting up a good fight, but how could she
hope to triumph without his help? What's more, what was blocking
the door? He pushed frantically on the doors with little effect.

     My God, she is going to win, thought Abdul. The female demon
was smashing the bodyguards around as if they were nothing. Both
men looked tired and badly beaten, with bruises and blood flowing
from cuts on their faces, battered noses, torn lips. It was only a
matter of time before they capitulated to her physical superiority.
He would be the only one to survive. If only he could hold out
whatever was trying to push its way into the chamber, and let
Hassan and Rakim appease the she-devil with their self-sacrifices,
perhaps she would let him live..

     Mata's punch blasted Hassan back against the wall, and she
whirled to find Rakim staggering his way towards her. "You are
persistent, little boy," she smiled. Her shapely right leg came up
as she balanced on the toes of her left.
     She snapped a quick, punishing kick into the side of his face.
Rakim cried in pain and stumbled a step back as the leather of her
shoe sent droplets of sweat and blood flying. "But you can't win.
I have fought bigger men than you before. Sooner or later, they
have all gone down."
     The girl stepped up, her fists at the ready. She threw a sharp
punch to his chin with her right. The punch snapped his head
around, but Rakim stood his ground firmly, his legs locked. A
pause, then Mata connected with her other fist, the short punch
knocking the black man's head around to the other side. He again
maintained his footing.
     But as his face came around to face the amazon, it was obvious
how much damage she had really done. His eyes were glazed, and he
began to wobble slightly. "And your time is now," she noted
gleefully.
     The sultry dancer pivoted slightly around, then launched
herself off the floor, one long leg flying up with tremendous power
to slam into Rakim's face. "Aaaunggh!" he screamed as the girl's
immense kick spun him away from her and launched him onto the
table. He skidded a few inches across its surface and came to rest
in a bloodied, battered, unconscious pile.
     Hassan watched in shock as Mata's leaping kick destroyed
Rakim. He cringed slightly as she turned back to face him. He
couldn't read her true expression through her veil, but sensed the
pleasure and satisfaction she had received from beating the big
man. Her words put that beyond a shadow of a doubt. "Impressed,
little boy? Or scared?"
     Hassan tried putting forth a brave face as she slowly stalked
towards him. "I.. you don't scare me, woman. He was weak, he
deserved to.."
     "You are both weak," she interrupted with a laugh. "And you
are lying. I know the idea of a girl who fights better than you
frightens you. It does every man."
     "Not me!" Hassan cried, amassing his remaining strength and
launching himself at the beautiful woman. He swung madly, aiming to
end the brawl with one mighty blow.
     She dodged the punch easily, and kicked him hard in the
stomach. "Unnnff!" Hassan grunted, bending around her curvaceous
leg. 
     "Liar," she smiled. "Very well, we shall test your bravery. I
will prolong your agony, my friend, to give you a chance to fight
me. We will see if your courage stays when you realize you don't
have a chance."
     Hassan snarled as he recovered from Mata's kick. "I will never
surrender to a woman!" He stepped menacingly towards her again and
again was met with a kick to his stomach.
     He gagged and gasped as the pointed toe of her shoe slammed
into his gut. He nearly sank to his knees with the power behind the
kick, but managed to stay upright. Her voice sounded amused. "Then
attack. Show me how a real man fights. Your friend certainly didn't
show me much."
     Rage boiled in his blood as he straightened back up to find
the woman bouncing lightly before him on her toes, her fists ready.
He yelled and threw a punch, his fist flying through the space
occupied a moment before by her veiled face.
     Mata popped back up after ducking his punch, and sent a punch
of her own straight into the bodyguard's face, paf. Hassan groaned
sharply and staggered, almost slipping. 
     Mata contentedly waited for him to recover from the blow. "Not
very impressive.. can't you do better?"
     "Aaargh!" Hassan cried madly, once again shooting a wild punch
at the girl. Again she dodged underneath it, driving her fist into
his bruised ribcage. The big man screamed in agony and reeled back.
     Again, the dancer was happy to wait for him to recover as she
taunted him. "Has your courage waned yet, little man? If you wish
to surrender now, that's fine. Is a girl too much for you?"
     Rage and pain twisted Hassan's face into a horrid scowl.
"Unnh.. never!" he growled weakly, again doing his best to land a
punch.
     This time Mata stood her ground, raising a well-muscled arm
and blocking the punch. Then she took his arm in her steely grip,
slammed another punch to his stomach, took his arm and pulled and
twisted. Hassan flipped over at her feet, flat onto his back.
     He looked up to see a sensuous pair of legs fill his vision.
"When you are in too much pain to continue, I will finish you, as
I have your master and your companion. Do you want to be beaten by
a woman?"
     Hassan snarled, feebly struggling to his feet. The girl stood
off, waiting for him to stand. Once he had done so, she was on him.
Her fist slammed painfully into his face and sent him tumbling back
several steps. The pain she was inflicting on him was quickly
becoming overwhelming, but he refused to yield.
     Mata stood in her fighting stance, the red veil hiding her
face except for the gleaming eyes. She waited for him to attack.
     Ducking under his ineffectual roundhouse punch, the blonde
punched him in his kidney area, her fist tearing into the tender
region of his body like a spear. Hassan screamed in agony and
stumbled back against the table, almost dropping to his knees.
Every fibre of his being was on fire with pain.
     "You could save yourself so much pain if you would acknowledge
my superiority, little man. Or do you want the girl to carry on
hurting you?"
     Hassan tried to voice a snarl as he straightened up, but
before he could, Mata fired off a sharp punch to his face. "Unngh!"
The punch spun his head away from her, and when he faced her again,
her other fist landed on his chin. The big bodyguard staggered away
from the shapely girl and her powerful punches, his knees buckling
threateningly, blood flowing from his face, bruises throbbing
menacingly.
     "Say it," she encouraged. "Say 'You are too much woman for me.
I can't hope to fight you.'" To add emphasis, Mata kicked him
solidly in the stomach. The air blasted out of Hassan's battered
body as he doubled up around her foot. 
     His face dripped blood, purple bruises covering most of it,
twisted into a tortured scowl. He was only able to hiss out one
word between his battered lips and loosened teeth. "Never.."
     "Defiant to the last." The dancer swung, her fist mercilessly
pummeling his face, thwack. Her punch froze him in place and sent
his eyes rolling back in their sockets. Paf, her second punch shook
his head as it tagged his jaw. Like a puppet with its strings cut,
he slumped forward, falling against his sexy female opponent. She
caught the unconscious man easily and held him up. "It's a pity
reality has to be so painful, isn't it?" Mata laughed as she let
the man she had knocked out drop at her feet.

     Outside, Sigmund heard the sounds of the struggle fade, as
voices indistinctively began to converse. What was going on? He had
to force his way in there somehow! He pushed even more frantically
at the doors, which still refused to budge.

     Mata stepped over the body of Hassan, towards the one
remaining man. "It's your turn now."
     Abdul stared in awe and terror at the seductive woman who had
easily knocked out the other guards as she stalked him. "No,
please.. leave me be. I.. I have no desire to fight a devil."
     She stopped in the center of the room, seemingly surprised. "A
what?"
     "A devil."
     Mata stared at him, then burst into light laughter. "I've been
called many things before, but never that! Why would you think I'm
a devil?"
     Abdul strained to hold the doors shut as he spoke. "No mere
woman could fight like you. You must have been sent by the demons.
They gave you the form of a desirable woman to charm us into
submission, and when that did not work, they gave you the strength
of five men to defeat us in combat. No, I will not fight you and
wind up like the others!"
     Mata smiled and giggled as she resumed her approach.
"Interesting theory, I must say. You're wrong, though. First, I am
just a 'mere woman'. Watch." Reaching up, she pulled the veil
loose, revealing her lovely face. Abdul stared at her as though
hypnotized. "I've never needed mystical powers to defeat men
before, only the fighting skills I've always had." She slowly
advanced towards the captivated bodyguard. "And you WILL fight me.
You have no choice. I'm not going to let you walk out of this
room."

     Even the faint voices seemed to fade into silence behind the
closed door. One last chance. Sigmund backed hastily away from the
door, prepared his shoulder, and charged. He slammed heavily into
the door and through, into the room.

     Abdul was frozen in fear as the beautiful, deadly woman walked
slowly, deliberately towards him. He glanced over at his still-
unconscious master, and the other two bodyguards she had beaten
senseless. Despite her denial, he still had no doubt in his mind
she was a demon. He had no chance if he were to try fighting her.
What could he do..?
     His thoughts were interrupted as the door suddenly slammed
against him from behind. The sudden shock sent him tumbling
forward, towards the she-devil, as something fell into the room
behind him.

     Sigmund fell heavily to the ground, just as he observed what
had been blocking the door, one of the guards. He toppled towards
Mata as Sigmund hit the floor, his shoulder pounding with agony. He
tried to ignore the pain, to call out to Mata, to warn her..
     But the warning stopped in his throat as he watched the girl
react with amazing speed to the guard's approach by tagging him
heavily with her fist. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he
would never have believed it.

     Mata stopped Abdul's uncontrolled approach with a hard left to
his chin. Her punch stopped him cold. She stepped up and raised her
foot to his middle, falling back and sending him flying over her.
He crashed onto his back behind her, the wind knocked out of him.
"I told you that you'd have to fight me," the girl told him with a
wry smile. "Think you can handle a she-devil?"
     Abdul rolled over as quickly as he could and scrambled to his
feet, desperate to get away from the female fighter. Mata left him
no escape as she kicked him hard in the face.

     Sigmund stared in amazement as Mata stepped up to the
bodyguard, lifting her long, shapely left leg up high, her red high
heel blasting into the side of his face. "Oooomph!!" the man
yelled, the dancer's solid kick spinning him away from her and
dropping him heavily. Sigmund's jaw almost hit the floor. What a
kick! "Try not to bleed on my shoes, little man. Demons have just
as hard a time as mortals getting blood stains out," Mata
delightedly teased her downed male opponent.
     As he gaped at the lithe, curvaceous female spy, Sigmund was
overwhelmed by the combination of beauty and strength she
displayed. Nothing she had told him had prepared him for this!

     Mata watched with glee as her high kick dropped the guard onto
his face. As he dazedly tried to recover and crawl back to his
feet, she intervened and took his arm, pulling him up. "Let me
help. I can't very well beat you while you're face-down on the
floor, can I?"
     Terror flashed across Abdul's face as the blonde turned him to
face her, just before she punched him sharply in the jaw. His head
snapped back and he stumbled back against the table. The sexy girl
sent a perfect kick right into his stomach, forcing the wind from
his body with a strained "Oooommph!" As he bent violently over,
Mata closed in.

     Abdul had never felt such pain in his entire life. The she-
devil's foot felt like a sledgehammer as it exploded into his
middle. He wanted to scream out his surrender, but could only voice
his agony as he bent in two around the latest blow she rained on
his inadequate male body. His eyes clenched tight, he doubled over,
wracked with pain.
     He heard the girl's taunting voice even as he felt her strong
hands come down on him. "Oh, did that hurt? Oh well, no one ever
said fighting demons would be easy."
     He felt her hands pull him away from the table, turn him
around, then he felt himself being flung forward, the powerful
female hands sending him sprawling..

     Sigmund watched, stunned, as Mata effortlessly spun the big
bodyguard around and whipped him past her, sending him flying into
and over the table, sliding across it, to crash down on the other
side of it. She was handling him as if he were nothing!
     "Put your tongue back in your mouth, Siggy," she said as she
turned to face him for a second. "There are flies around, you
know." He did a quick double-take, but kept staring at the awesome
woman, more intensely than ever.

     Mata quickly moved around to the other side of the table to
confront the young guard. He lay where she had tossed him,
hopelessly trying to shake off the effects of her beatings. He
pleaded frantically as he saw her approach. "No, please, please..
you are too strong! Just kill me, take my soul, but stop punishing
me!"
     The long-legged blonde smirked as she advanced towards him.
"At least you're more realistic than your friend," Mata noted. "I
will not take your soul until we're finished, little boy. Do you
want your soul to be one of a coward, afraid to fight a woman? Or
would you rather it were one of a true warrior? Get up and fight
me!"
     She grinned with anticipation as Abdul groaned and struggled
his way back to his feet. "Very well, woman.. I will give you a
fight! Arrgh!" He charged at her.
     He had just reached her, his hands reaching for her throat,
when she lifted her knee into his middle. "Uuunkkh!" The man's feet
almost left the floor.
     The shapely amazon pulled her fist back and sent a crisp punch
into his face, whack. Grunting in pain, Abdul stumbled drunkenly
away from her, narrowly avoiding dropping to the floor. She stayed
with him, a second punch from her other fist knocking a mist of
sweat and blood off his face as it connected solidly to his chin.
He reeled back, collapsing onto his back near the large curtained
window.
     "You call that a fight?" Mata mercilessly teased him.
"Warriors do not find themselves flat on their backs at the mercy
of a girl's fists, little man. Am I too much for you?" She looked
down on the badly battered man with an evil smile, daring him to
face her again.

     Abdul's legs collapsed out from under him as the she-devil's
mighty fist smashed him backwards. He lay flat on his back, the
room spinning nauseatingly around him, the bruises on his face
swelling painfully, the moisture of his fresh blood leaking down
from his puffed lips.
     He was more convinced than ever his opponent could not
possibly be a mere mortal female. Every terrible twinge of agony
seething through his body told him so, and at the moment they spoke
very loudly.
     As the spinning room stabilized slightly, he looked up to see
the beautiful blonde demon towering above him. He heard her
taunting words as if they were far away, only catching bits and
pieces of them until he concentrated on interpreting them. "Are you
getting up, or do I have to go down there to finish you?" she asked
with a diabolically seductive grin.
     He had to try. He knew this demon was vastly more powerful
than he, and had chosen such a delectable female form to humiliate
him. Still, he did not want to die cowering beneath her, giving her
the obvious sadistic pleasure she was getting from pummelling him.
     Gasping, he put the last gasps of energy he had remaining into
struggling his way to his feet. The room tilted menacingly and his
aching body protested violently. "That's better," he heard a sweet
female voice giggle. "Ladies do not like to be kept waiting.. oh,
my mistake. She-devils."

     Across the room, Sigmund could only sit and stare as the tall,
curvaceous blonde awaited her opponent as he feebly tried to stand.
The pain from his aching penis almost masked the pain of his
bruised shoulder as he watched her every move. Her strength and
beauty was incredibly arousing to the German agent.
     He watched and began to salivate down his chin as Mata closed
on the bodyguard. He began a wobbly windup, trying desperately to
aim a punch at her head. The girl shot a solid punch to his
stomach, stopping him before he could throw his own punch.
"Hoooomff!" Abdul cried, his face twisting in pain. 
     "Your time has come, little boy," Sigmund heard Mata tell the
guard with a teasing voice. "I hope your soul is prepared."
     She punched him in the gut once more, sending him staggering
back a step, bent in agony, his arms wrapped tightly around his
midsection. Her arms came up to balance her expertly as she snapped
a high kick into his face, and Sigmund's erection nearly exploded
in his pants. He imagined the big bodyguard seeing stars as Mata's
kick staggered him back against the window.
     Abdul swayed unsteadily as the blonde dancer closed in again.
Again using her arms for balance, she kicked her right leg up high,
bringing it to her left and up in a graceful arc. At the high point
of the roundhouse kick, her foot landed with a dull smack against
the guard's cheek. "Unnnggh!! ..Aaaaaah!" Abdul screamed as the
amazon's kick spun him around and through the window with a loud
crash, ripping the curtain down. The shattered glass following him
out of the room. A dull thud came from outside.
     Sigmund almost panicked once again. "Mein Lieber Gott!" he
cursed quietly, forgetting the pain from his shoulder and engorged
penis as he stood and rushed over to the broken window. He stood
alongside Mata as he looked out and down, about ten feet into a
lavish garden where the bodyguard lay silent and still.
     "Is.. is he dead?"
     Mata smirked. "I doubt it. I've found men are very fragile,
but not quite that bad!"
     "But he's not moving.."
     "Of course not. Would you, after a beating like he received?"
     "No.. I.. that was amazing. I.. I had no idea a woman could..
you.. you are incred.."
     Sigmund cringed visibly as Mata's hand came up, only to gently
cover his mouth. "Siggy.. Siggy, calm down. We will have time for
this later. Right now, we have to get Khalif out of here. Fights
always attract crowds."
     "Oh.. right."
     He turned quickly and followed Mata as she went back to the
unconscious advisor. "How do we get him out of here without being
seen?" he asked as the girl took Khalif's arm and lifted him out of
his chair.
     Laying him down on the floor, Mata looked around the room and
sighed. "There's nothing here to hide him in. We'll just have to
carry him out and hope we don't run into anyone before we get him
back to our room."
     "Okay.. do you want me to take his arms, and you take his
legs?"
     Mata beamed a smile at the smaller man. "When I said we, I
meant figuratively." She took Khalif up in her strong arms as if he
were a child, his limp legs and head dangling as she lifted him
with ease. 
     She frowned slightly as Sigmund's eyes again bulged at her.
"Come on.. later, I said! Go and see if the hall if empty!"
     Sigmund snapped back to reality with her harsh words. He ran
over to the doors, opened them slightly and peeked out. "All
clear."
     "Good." The well-muscled girl carried the man over
effortlessly and followed Sigmund out of the room. "Try to keep
your eyes open and off of me until we're safe, would you please?"

     The key jangled in the lock of the hotel room for a second
until Sigmund managed to get the door open. He practically fell
into the room. "Thank God we made it!"
     "Get out of the way!" Mata ordered behind him. She was still
easily holding Khalif in her arms, and as Sigmund jumped out of her
way, she carried him over and lowered him gently onto the bed.
     Sigmund breathed deeply. "I really need a drink," he
announced, slowly making his way across the room towards the bottle
of brandy and two glasses sitting on an end table. Behind him, he
heard the slight groaning of a man in pain. "Uuuuhhh.. ohhhh.." Oh
no, Khalif was waking up.
     SMACK. The sudden sharp sound froze Sigmund in his tracks. He
spun around to find Mata standing over the bed, massaging her right
fist. "There, that ought to keep him out for a while," she smiled
at him.
     "Y.. you..?"
     "Yes, Siggy, I punched him. Not the usual spy method, I know.
Perhaps a chloroformed pad would be more efficient, but I prefer a
tried and true method."
     "Oh.. oh my.." Sigmund felt the blood drain from his face,
into his lower regions.
     Mata smiled seductively at him and laughed. "I see you like
strong women, don't you, Siggy? Come here."
     He scurried to follow the amazing woman's command. By the time
he stood before her, he was trembling, his erection throbbing, his
eyes running up and down her splendid figure.
     "Does the idea of a barefisted woman fighter arouse you,
Siggy?" 
     "Yes.. yes, oh God, yes.."
     Mata flexed an arm before his face. "Feel my muscles."
     His hands quickly but timidly came up and ran over her
shoulder, the biceps and triceps, caressing them. They were not
tremendously large, but hard, very hard. Defined but very, very
feminine. "Oh Mata.. watching you fight that last guard was so..
so.."
     "Orgasmic?" she grinned. "I was playing with him, Siggy. He
never stood a chance. I have been fighting and beating men for a
long, long time. I can knock a man out with one punch if I prefer,
you know.. I'd just rather stretch it out. Men can't handle being
beaten by a woman. It's exciting for me to watch them try to deal
with it. It's fun."
     "Ohhhh.." Sigmund tried to embrace her, to draw her to him.
     "No, not yet," the seductive blonde smiled. Gently removing
his hands from her, she stepped closer and pressed a hand against
his screaming, throbbing penis. "That must be killing you by now.
Drop your pants."
     "Mmmm.. huh? Oh." He clumsily and frantically tried to undo
his pants, eliciting a smirk from Mata. She smiled as his pants and
underwear dropped around his ankles, his erect cock pointing
straight at her. 
     He began to step out of his pants. "No, stay like that," the
blonde instructed him. "Stroke yourself for me."
     Sigmund stood where he was, his hands grasping his penis, as
Mata stepped back, a sly grin on her beautiful face. She took the
red silk of her top, pulling it off, over her head. Her large
breasts flowed freely, bouncing lightly. "Watch me, Siggy.. don't
take your eyes off my body."
     He couldn't have, even if he had wanted to. He moaned with
pleasure and began to drool gently as she turned her back to him,
dancing slowly, the red high heels making her legs into awesome,
irresistible lines of female charm, her buns firm and round under
the skimpy red panties and see-through silk skirt, her arms coming
up in a classic double bicep pose. Overwhelmed, Sigmund felt
himself growing weak, his hands becoming moist as he stroked.
"These muscles knocked four men cold tonight.. how many others do
you think have succumbed to them?" Mata smiled back over her
shoulder.
     She turned back to face the feverishly aroused man before her.
She put one leg before her, pointing her toes, making sure his eyes
followed it up from the point of her shoe, up the sexy curves of
her calf and thigh. As his eyes came up, her hands started at her
crotch, carressed their way up her firm abs, coming up under her
full breasts, pushing them up. They were round and firm, the
nipples solid and erect. "Tell me something," Mata whispered deeply
as her fingers stroked underneath her breasts.
     "Oh God.. anything.." Sigmund moaned. He stroked himself and
gasped as the blonde brought her hands up behind her head, her
muscled arms and abs posed for him, her breasts wobbling from side
to side as she slowly gyrated her hips..
     "Your hands must be soaking wet," she grinned as she looked at
him. "Let me." She stepped towards him and kneeled as he quivered
before her. Gently removing his hands, she touched his penis
lightly, laughing as his body spasmed with her touch. Pointing it
upwards, she ran the tip of her tongue along the length of his
penis. 
     "OHHHHH!" Sigmund cried in ecstasy. His hands came down to
grasp her strong shoulders.
     "Slowly.. slowly, Siggy darling. I promise you will never have
an orgasm like this again, so make it last while you can.." Her
hands reached around and grasped his buttocks firmly as her tongue
returned to his cock.
     "Oh God, Mata, I want it.. I love your muscles, and your
touch.. OOOHHH!" Reaching the end of his penis, she flicked her
tongue over its tip. He writhed in her grasp.
     "Siggy.. tell me, why did Central Command want Khalif so much?
They don't send me unless they want to make sure something gets
done."
     "Ohhhh!! Oh God!" Siggy screamed as Mata took his cock into
her mouth, her tongue running gently and freely over the bottom and
sides, her lips grasping it, beginning to suck his juices. "He..
uhhhh! He's not Moroccan.. mmmm. He's.. ooooh! He's a French
agent."
     Mata's mouth pulled harder on his rock-hard penis as she
registered her surprise. "Hmmm?"
     "Mmmmh! Yes, there was a reward on him.. Ooooo! Twenty
thousand marks.. ohhh! Ohhh Mata!!"
     Her shoulders flexed beneath his hands as she pulled on his
manhood, more intensely than before, her hands squeezing him,
caressing his naked behind. The moist sounds of her intense sucking
seemed to fill the hotel room, mixing with his ecstatic cries.
     "We'll both be rich.. ohhhh! Mata, you are a goddess! I..
ohhhh!!"
     The blonde's lips clamped down, pulling the orgasm from him
with unbelievable force. Sigmund's eyes clenched tightly closed and
he screamed as the most intense pleasure he'd ever experienced
washed over his mind and body. His cum spurted into her mouth, and
she pulled every drop from him, sucking fervently. His hands tensed
on her shoulders, his cries filling the air.
     Her lips pulled on his cock until he had no more to give. He
began to slowly go limp in her mouth, and she gently released him.
His screams subsided into low moans, then to deep sighs. He
teetered unsteadily on his feet, his strength drained from him by
the orgasm, his clothing still down around his ankles.
     The blonde dancer smiled up at him, thick liquid dripping from
the corners of her full lips, then slowly stood before him in all
her magnificence. Her eyes met his.
     "Siggy, darling.. remember what I was saying earlier, about
being able to knock a man out with one punch?"
     "Mmmmm?"
     Sigmund didn't even have time to flinch, her fist came up that
fast. It was the last thing he saw. WHAM. He didn't even feel
himself fall. Everything went instantly black.

     Sigmund woke up slowly, feeling like he'd spent all night
downing schnapps. He wondered for a few moments what all the noise
was, before realizing it was two things; his head ringing and his
own loud groaning.
     Slowly he looked around. He lay on a bed in what looked to be
a hotel room. Naked. What the..?
     Then it began to come back to him, piece by piece. Morocco.
Khalif. The girl, Mata, the most desirable woman he'd ever seen.
Vague memories of seeing her fight.. was that a dream? No. She had
fought and beaten three men with her bare fists. She had carried
Khalif in her arms as if he were nothing. Seduction. He wanted her
so badly he could think of nothing else. Pleasure, incredible,
beyond anything he'd thought possible. Wait a minute.. twenty
thousand marks.. her fist.. damn!
     He sat bolt upright on the bed, and cried out with the pain
the sudden movement brought him. His head felt like the entire
British army was marching on it. As he stared intensely through his
blurred vision, he saw.. nothing. Nothing that was supposed to be
there, anyway. His clothes were gone. Khalif was gone. Mata was
gone. The sun, too was gone. It was night.
     Wait.. something was in his hand. Something moist..
     He looked down. A piece of paper was wrapped inside something
small and red. He pulled out the paper and examined the red object.
A very small, skimpy, wet pair of woman's panties. The ones Mata
had on.
     He slowly unfolded the paper and tried to focus his eyes on
the writing. It took a bit of effort. He remembered the punch the
amazon girl had k.o.'ed him with as he struggled to overcome its
effects. She was as good as her word. One punch, indeed. Finally
the words made themselves legible.

     Dear Siggy,

     I'll no doubt have been gone a few hours by the time you read
this. I've taken Khalif out to meet our rendezvous, and am on my
way back to Germany. I can use the 20,000 marks myself. After all,
a girl has to support her lifestyle somehow, doesn't she?
     I also wanted to thank you for the fun time. I've never been
to Africa before, and it's nice to know I've left a lasting
impression, at least on you and the three goons downstairs. You'll
find an icepack in the sink. It should take down the swelling on
your jaw. I'm sorry, darling, but it is a bit difficult to punch
someone out and not leave a mark.
     You'll also find your clothes are gone. I can't have you
following me too quickly. Relax and enjoy Casablanca, Siggy. And
who knows, maybe we'll meet again under different circumstances.
Meanwhile, in exchange for your half of the money, I've left you a
souvenir. You'll have noticed they're very wet. To tell the
truth, knocking you out with one punch was more than I could bear,
and was probably the simplest way for you to pleasure me. You see,
I've come to find beating men much more arousing than any form of
sex you care to think of. It's not often I bring a man to orgasm as
I did with you. Consider yourself special. Goodbye, and thank you
again for the fun and the money.

                                             Kisses,
                                               Mata.