First Encounters, 2nd generation III
by Dusty (junkbond75@hotmail.com)
more of Sonya's unbelievable adventures


          Party Crashing III

  Sonya made her way quickly down a new corridor, its steely sides 
flashing alongside her sleek, black rubber clad form. Her musculature 
flexed, allowing maximum movement with minimum of effort. She rounded a 
blind turn, and found herself face to face with an equally suprised gray 
jump-suited guard. 
  With hardly a pause at all she pounced on the hapless man. She grasped 
his shoulder in her steely one handed grip, her green eyes flashing. 
With a casual flick, she sent him flying backwards into the wall. He 
rebounded forward, stunned, and she stepped into his bounce, her iron-
like left arm extended in a clothesline. Her forearm struck him in the 
throat, and his feet flew up from under him. He landed on his back with 
a heavy thud, his 250 frame shocked by the smaller woman's extreme 
power. 
  Without a second's loss, Sonya flipped in a silent cartwheel, and 
landed on her knees astride the guard's stunned form. Her kness were 
aside his middle ribs, her curly blonde locks tickling his face and 
throat. He struggled, but she easily pinned his hands down with her own. 
  "Mmmm," she moaned, "a big, strong man who just got his ass kicked by 
a girl. Did you think that possible? Believe it, it is!" She flexed her 
hand muscles and the man's knuckles popped out of joint. 
  "Arrgh!" he groaned. "Please stop! How can you...Arghg...please..." 
  She grinned evilly, her pouty lips twisted in glee. "That's right, 
baby, beg! I like it when a big strong man begs me to stop hurting him 
with my little female body." 
  She leaned down and kissed him full on the mouth, her velvet lips 
working over his own, her moist tongue dancing lightly across his lips 
and into his mouth. She felt him respond almost immediately, a bulge was 
forming underneath her latex-suited weight. She worked the kiss for a 
long time, licking and probing. She broke it finally, and then began 
kissing and sucking on his neck. She worked around to his left ear, and 
began speaking softly as she licked and kissed it. 
  "Umm, that's right, I know you like it, don't you, baby? A smaller, 
beautiful woman that is twenty times stronger than you. I can make your 
pathetic little body do anything I want. There is no way you can stop 
me. Do you believe that?" 
  He only nodded. 
  "Good, it'll make this easier." She began to writhe on top of him, her 
latex suited body grinding down on him and his throbbing member. "Mmm," 
she moaned as she continued to hump him, "I could take that out and 
pleasure you in more ways than you can imagine," she sighed. 
  He only nodded. 
  "Or," she cooed in between licks, "I could wrap my steel like body 
around yours, flexing my incredibly strong female muscles. You body 
would be crushed, your bones would snap and be ground to powder. Which 
shall it be?" 
  Before he could answer, she slid her legs beneath him and locked her 
ankles together. She slid her arms under his, and laced her fingers 
together behind his neck. 
  "Ummm," she moaned, "I'm afraid it's going to be that second one. 
Sorry, this is really going to hurt, lover." 
  With that, she violently flexed her thigh and bicep muscles, muscle 
definition showing through the thin black rubber in stark contrast to 
her smooth, creamy skin. The gaurds squealed, just once; his eyes bugged 
out and no less than 30 different bones snapped like dry twigs at once. 
Her muscular thighs dug into his midsection and collapsed his lower rib 
cage; the boned shattered with a series of muffled pops. Her inner arms 
pushed against his chest, smashing his internal organs into paste. Her 
thumbs dug into his cranium and shattered the bone there, her interlaced 
finger smashing his neck bones into powder. She kissed him one final 
time as his final breath stole out of his dying body. With featherly 
lightness she rolled backwards in a somersault, rolling to her feet with 
no apparent effort. She brushed her hair from her face and reguarded her 
handiwork. 
  "Well, thanks for the fun, tough guy." 


  A short ime later, she came upona steel door. Quickly accessing her 
memory files, she decided that it could only be her second objective; 
the 2nd computer room. She grasped the upper frame of the 600 lb door 
with one hand, and with a savage jerk, she tore it from the wall. It 
tore free with the scream of shearing metal. After that, she heard the 
purr of muffled gunfire from inside. With no pause, she danced inside 
with the speed of a tigress. 
  She dipped forward into a series of flips. Her flying feet and hands 
made whoosing noises as she moved across the room; with each flip she 
caught a view of the guard firing at her, a huge man with an automatic 
pistol. 
  The gaurd couldn't believe it. The door got torn right out of the 
wall, and in comes this spinning, flipping, gorgeous blonde in a rubber 
suit. She was moving so fast he couldn't get a bead on her, firing where 
she had been a split second earlier. In a flash she was on him, her 
curly locks flying. 
  Sonya straightened from her flips directly in front of him. She used 
her momentum to strike his wrist--his hand broke with a snap and the gun 
went flying across the siazable room. She then pivoted on her right leg, 
and brought her left up in a blurring spin kick, her booted foot coming 
around with a whoosing crunch to impact with his shoulder. The man's 300 
lb form took to air, smashing into the wall nearly ten feet to his 
right. 
  "You bitch-" he began. 
  "Now, now," she purred as she stepped lightly in front of him, "Be 
nice, or I'll have to hurt you." 
  He reached out with his right hand, and she seized it in her left. 
With a quick tensing, it was shattered. 
  He wailed beofre her, both her arms at her sides. She had raised her 
hand, caught his, crushed it, released it, and returned her fisted hand 
to its resting place on her smooth hip so fast he wasn't sure she had 
actually done it. 
  With mounting terror, her lashed out with his left, and her right hand 
repeated the action, her latex gloved hand grinding his bones to powder 
in an instant. 
  "Ohh, you whore..." 
  Her brow furrowed. "Okay, asshole, no I'm really going to hurt you. 
I'm going to really punish your big manly frame with my little lady 
fists. I'm going to pound you to death, and there is nothing you can do 
to stop me!" 
  She wound up and released a barrage so fierce the man could not 
believe it even as he was dying. Her latex gloved hands became two 
blurs, smashing into his midsection in differing blows: punches, chops, 
palm thrusts, knuckle punches, and backhand slaps. Her flashing arms 
created a constant whoosing sound, nearly drowned out only by the 
cruching, snapping impact sounds echoing through the man's chest. 
  "Whaaaah! Keyaaaah! Whooo-aah!" she cried, her fists smashing the man 
to paste. 
  Soon, it was only the force of her blows that kept him up. As her 
flurry increased, his dead feet rose from the ground, and she suspended 
his 300lb frame solely from the power of her devastating blows. She 
finished the attack with a tremendous right uppercut, her arm whisking 
through the air with an evil hiss. His body, still in midair and now 
bulging in strange places, the midsection a strange series of valleys 
and gleaming bones peeking out of the gray jumpsuit, was dealt this 
finishing strike. The dead guard's jaw was smashed to paste, and his 
form flew up from the force of her deadly attack. His body struck the 
twelve foot ceiling and sailed away from her in a gentle arc, where it 
eventually smashed into the wall of computers, destroying them. 
  Sonya was actually a bit winded from the force of her attack; the 
guard had foolishly angered her, and had paid for it with his miserable 
life. In forty seconds of sustained attack, she had dealt his body more 
than two hundred superhumanly powerful strikes, each designed to kill by 
itself. The idea that the man was so easily smashed by her female power 
excited her, she paused only long enough to brush her hair back, look 
over her helpless victim's prone form, and run her gloved hands over her 
ample bosom, pausing there for a self-indulgent squeeze. 
  Hmm, she thought. I love my job. (to be continued)