Bionic Man v. Insatiable Amazon
By Elrohir
It's not a superhero story.


It was my first business trip to the West Coast, and after wrestling my
carry-on bag through three airports, two taxicabs, and the hotel lobby, I was
ready for some relaxation. As soon as I got settled in, I headed for the hotel
bar, which to my chagrin was packed with traveling business people in the same
situation as me. I was looking for a place to light when I saw her, sitting on
a stool at the corner of the bar. She was a tall woman with platinum shoulder
length hair, wearing a long-sleeved purple shirt dress that clung to her upper
body but flared out at her hips and ended well above her knees. Her legs were
crossed, causing the skirt to ride up high on her thigh, and what a thigh it
was! Shapely and very muscular, it tapered down to a gorgeous diamond-hard
calf, which she was using to twirl her stiletto heeled shoe around and around,
the calf muscle flexing lasciviously with each circuit. More than one guy in
the crowd was checking her out, at least one of them clearly mesmerized by
that twirling foot: he was almost visibly salivating, a growing monster
tenting his flannel business suit pants.

I watched as she lifted her heavy 32-ounce beer mug to take a drink, her bicep
flexing mightily, her dress sleeve stretching so tight it seemed ready to
burst. My jaw dropped, and it was just at that moment that she caught my eye.
Her eyes smiled at me with amusement as she drank, and after she took the mug
away from her face she continued to stare at me with that amused expression.

Some years ago, I would have been too intimidated to respond, but today that
was all the encouragement I needed: I waded through the crowd to stand at the
bar next to where she sat, pretending to be intent on getting the bartender's
attention, but of course he was ignoring me. She looked at the gin merchant
and drew his gaze to her as if by telepathic command, waving him over to take
my order. I suspect he probably had been keeping one eye on her since she'd
sat down. I asked for my usual gin & tonic, turned to her and said "Thanks! I
probably wouldn't have been able to get a drink for quite a while if you
hadn't helped me."

"My pleasure!" she said sweetly. "You just have to know how to get a
bartender's attention."

"Well, I'm not really equipped for that, the way you are." I smiled slightly,
hoping the compliment wasn't too forward.

"Oh, I don't know" she said, looking into my eyes, "you got my attention the
moment you walked in."

She winked, and I knew the game had begun. I approached it with a confidence I
hadn't had until recently, because I knew that if I could convince her to go
to bed with me, I could make her mine, at least for a while. You see, due to
recent dramatic changes in my life, I've become something of a superhero in
the sack. I am a slightly less powerful version of the Six Million Dollar Man;
call me the $38,000 Man, or the Almost-Bionic Man.

Okay, so I'm not really even almost The Bionic Man: That's just the nickname
several of my past girlfriends have given me, independent of each other. You
see, 2 years ago I was in a motorcycle accident which caused a number of
injuries, the worst of which was severe damage to my groin, so serious that I
was left completely impotent, and had to have penile prosthetics implanted.
These particular implants are two bladders inside my corpora cavernosa that
are connected by a small pump in my scrotum to a reservoir containing a saline
solution, placed behind my abdominal wall. The implant surgery left me in pain
for a couple of weeks (although they gave me some good drugs for that), but
after I healed the implants felt quite natural.

Now, whenever I want an erection, I reach down to my scrotum and squeeze the
pump several times, and VOILA, instant hard-on! ... And it will stay hard
until I hit the release valve which allows the solution to flow back into the
reservoir. I can, therefore, generally control my staying power, although of
course staying hard and not coming are two very different things. Being able
to control my erection has, however, led to such confidence that my ability to
forestall climaxing has improved greatly. I can usually hold out until after
the woman I'm with climaxes, sometimes more than once, if they're up for that.
Sometimes, too, I really get into a zone where I just want to go on forever
without stopping, which has had both good and bad results for the women
involved, depending on their temperament and sensibility. Some women can't
come during intercourse, so if I sense them becoming bored, I finish my
business as quickly as I can and dive in to finish 'em off with my tongue,
which is usually successful. Revolted at the prospect of eating your own cum,
you say? Don't knock it until you've tried it!

Anyway, I was looking forward to getting this one into the sack even if her
killer body did, in fact, kill me! Her personality and body radiated both
power and grace, both of which I hoped she would use on me in order to bring
herself pleasure. I wanted her to make a meal of me.... Little did I know,
however, how ravenous she would be, and that I would be almost totally
consumed before she was done.

"I can't help but think that I've seen you somewhere before ... " I said
honestly.

"Why, what an original line" she said sarcastically. "I bet you tell all the
girls that." She winked again, signifying she was just yanking my chain a bit.

"Hey, it's not a line!" I said with mock hurt in my eyes. Her whole look
struck a chord with me, like I had lusted after her before, somewhere,
although I know we'd never spoken before""I sure would have remembered that. I
paused for a moment, searching my brain for the recollection.

She looked at me with that amused expression again. "Actually, I think I can
help you"""

"GOT IT!" I exclaimed, a little too loudly. "Your name is Rachel, isn't it?
You were a contestant on Hollywood Game Night over the summer, right? You're
even wearing the same dress!" How could I have forgotten that dress, that
body, those lithe movements, and that classically beautiful face?

"Bingo!" she laughed. "It's my best look, don't you think?"

"I can think of at least one I'd like better" I said quietly, blushing. Was I
really saying these things?

She leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Well, bucko, if you play your
cards right, I might let you see that one as well ... but be a gentleman or
I'll break you in half, understand?"

My face fell, and I became weak in the knees. Knowing just the right words to
use, she had excited me and at the same time cowed me. "Yes, ma'am" I said,
solemnly. I heard Drooling Guy at the nearby table say something like "I bet
she told him to buzz off" to his tablemate, apparently having misunderstood my
serious expression as disappointment.

She must have heard it, too, because she reached into her purse and with a
flowery gesture withdrew a hotel room key card. She handed it to me and said
quietly, "Room 417 ... in twenty minutes. Pay for my drink." She slipped off
her stool and headed toward the door without waiting for me to answer. As she
passed Drooling Guy, she smiled and blew him a kiss. "Maybe you'll be next!"
she said sweetly, winking. He turned beet red and grabbed the sides of his
table. From his tortured expression I was sure he must have been coming in his
pants.

As soon as she left the room, several guys who had seen what had just happened
burst into applause. I bowed ceremoniously in thanks, then laid a twenty and a
five on the bar for our drinks and tip, and walked out by myself, several
catcalls following me. I hurried to my room and freshened up as much as I
could before the twenty minute appointment time. Stopping outside the room, I
pumped my love pillar up to its full height and firmness. I knocked, heard her
say to come in, and then fumbled with the keycard in the reader twice before I
got the door open.

She was sitting in the middle of the loveseat across from the bed with her
legs crossed in the same sexy way she'd sat earlier, and her arms were out to
her sides, draped along the top of the seat back. She was wearing only a white
lace bra and panties, and white high-heeled shoes. "I hope you're ready to
play" she said seductively.

"You would have sent Hollywood Game Night's ratings through the roof, if you'd
worn that outfit on the show."

"I did wear it for one of the producers, but (she pouted her lips) he
CLUEBOOMED a bit prematurely, and there was a lot more than just confetti all
over the floor, afterward. I made him clean it up."

"I can imagine!" I breathed. My erection might have been artificial, but my
excitement was real ... too real for comfort, at that moment: I was fighting
to keep it under control, and I was afraid what she might do to me if I
failed. Would massively spewing all over myself in front of her constitute
"not being a gentleman"? I took a deep breath, hoping I wouldn't have to find
out the answer.

She rose up from the loveseat and walked over to me. She slipped off her bra
and panties and let them fall to the floor. Standing there in just her high
heels, she was almost a foot taller than me. She placed her hands on my
shoulders and looked into my eyes, smiling. "Relax, baby. Whatever happens,
it's all good, and ... " she looked down at my bulge "from what I can see it's
going to be really good!" Then she kissed me, gently, sighing with pleasure,
her hands lightly on my hips, knowing just the way to calm me and inspire my
confidence to return. Our kiss became deeper and deeper, until she sighed
again and gently broke away. She unbuttoned the placket of my golf shirt and
gently pulled it off over my head, then she unbuckled my pants and let them
drop to the floor. "Slip off those shoes and step out" she ordered, and I did
so. The head of my engorged meat pole had pushed its way above the waist band
of my boxer briefs; she bent down and lightly kissed it, then hooked her
thumbs in the band and slid the briefs down my legs, dropping them to my feet,
and I obediently stepped out of them.

She pushed me backward until I banged up against the closed door, and grabbed
the back of my head and kissed me deeply, her tongue wrestling mine into
submission. Suddenly she put her hands under my armpits and in an incredible
show of strength lifted me a few inches off the floor and pinned me against
the door, grinding her hips into mine, her sex up against the base of my shaft
while her lower abs compressed the head. She ground herself back and forth
against my helplessly suspended form, her nipples hard as pencil erasers as
she they rubbed against my chest. A moan escaped me: She put her lips next to
my ear and whispered "You like that, don't you?" I nodded furiously. "Don't
you dare come before I tell you! Don't, or I'll have to hurt you, understand?"
Again I nodded, unable to speak. I might be able to stay hard for a long time,
but it was going to be hell holding back that inevitable explosion.

Still she ground herself into me, whispering smoldering phrases into my ear
like "Mmm, it feels so good to crush that big, hot cock. It really makes want
to come ... I bet it really makes you want to come, too, but you'd better
not!" I could only grunt in response: I was struggling so hard, willing myself
not to come, my muscles began to shake with the effort. My face became a mask
of ecstatic agony as the incredible stimulation threatened to overwhelm me.
The exquisite torture seemed to go on forever, until suddenly she whispered
"Oh! What's happening to me? Oh God, baby, I think I'm coming ... Oh yeah, oh
yeah, OH YEAH! OOOOOH!" Her body vibrated against me as those fabulous muscles
trembled with her contractions.

I reached up and grabbed onto her shoulders, trying to hold on, feeling them
rippling with power as she effortlessly held me up and kept me pinned to the
door even as she continued coming. "OOH YEAH!" loudly burst forth from her as
her every muscle contracted in one last mighty contraction, crushing my body
against the door and crushing my cock between us. It was more than I could
take: My cock exploded, a pink volcano erupting hot white cum. "UUUUUGH!" I
cried, the massive release shaking me to my core. "UUUUGH!" I cried again, as
my cum cannon fired off another salvo. "UUUUUUUUUUuuuh ... " I moaned, as all
the energy left my body. I collapsed limply in her grasp, my flaccid arms
draped across her arms of velvet-covered iron and my head lolling over her
shoulder. Still she kept me pinned and suspended, as she chuckled into my ear.

"Damn, baby, you just CLUEBOOMED all over me!" She laughed. "I hope it was
worth it."

"It WAS worth it," I croaked, "even if you have to kill me."

She laughed, and gently lowered me until my feet were on the floor. She smiled
and looked into my eyes. "It's not as bad as all that" she said sweetly. "I
was just joking about hurting you, just wanted to pressure you a little. You
just have to lick up all your cum until I say you're done." She grabbed the
back of my head and bent me forward until my face was lodged between her
breasts, and I began to lap up my own cum as if it was mother's milk. She
moved my face to the underside of one breast until it was clean, then to the
other one. Then she forced my face down to her rippling abs, where the bulk of
my salty spooge had landed, and I vacuumed it all up as best I could, then
licked up the residue. "Mmm ... " she sighed, and then pushed me down to my
knees and forced my face into her moist, fragrant pussy. I slurped her juices,
licked her labia, and sucked her clit for all I was worth: a low, feline growl
began to emanate from deep within her as she worked my face back and forth
between her nether lips, forcing it farther into her, until I was unable to
breathe. I sucked and licked her clit even more furiously, in hopes that she
would come before I passed out; her growls became louder, and she shook my
head back and forth vigorously until suddenly she shook with contractions,
flowing as she came, drenching my face and nearly drowning me. Her iron thighs
reflexively closed around my head and flexed massively; in agony, I lost
consciousness before she finished climaxing.

I must have only been out about 30 seconds or so, because when I came to, she
was picking me up by the armpits like I was a ragdoll. She looked down at me
and exclaimed "Damn, baby, you're hard again!" I was in no shape to tell her
that due to the prosthetic implants I was hard STILL, and at that moment it
seemed to be a moot point, anyway. "Mmm mmm mmm," she hummed, "I'm gonna get
me some of that!" She carried me over to the bed and dropped me onto it on my
back, then swung up onto the bed and mounted me in one fluid motion. She rode
me slowly at first, building her arousal, and mine. She gradually increased
her pace until after a very long time she was riding me furiously; I was
amazed by her incredible stamina. After what seemed like forever, she suddenly
stopped: She placed both her hands behind her head, showing off her massive
biceps and beautiful breasts, and then she started thrusting her hips forward
and back, her six-pack abs contracting mightily as she did so.

My cock was slammed back and forth inside her; I could swear I felt it tapping
her swollen clit with every thrust. She went BUMP, BUMP, BUMP, her abs flexing
in time, moving me up the bed a little with each stroke. Her eyes were closed
and her head tilted back, making her look like a goddess as she concentrated
on each thrust. I think she forgot about me as she focused totally on
extracting the maximum amount of pleasure from my member. Another low, feline
growl rose from deep within her as she approached completion, and suddenly she
began thrusting furiously, grunting with each stroke so that it sounded like
"UGH-UGH-UGH-UGH-UGH!"

She began clenching with each furious stroke, and it drove me over the edge. A
long, dying moan exploded from me as what little cum I still had rocketed out
of me and my cock dry-heaved with contractions. I collapsed there under her,
being spent and completely drained, but she was oblivious to my demise as she
powered herself toward the apex of a massive climax, thrusting away with
abandon at the captive human dildo inside her, which remained hard despite its
depleted condition. Now that my own orgasm had receded, my poor abused organ
became extremely sore as it continued to take a pounding from this fearsome
amazon. The soreness became such that I was grunting in pain with every
thrust, but she took no notice, lost in her own ecstasy, her head still thrown
back and her eyes closed. A loud growl rose from within her as she neared the
edge, then suddenly she erupted mightily when she reached it and went over,
roaring like a lioness, her entire body shaking, her massive muscles
contracting with each spasm.

She gradually came back to herself, still perched on top of me, quietly
savoring the relaxation of those exquisite muscles as the tension left them.
Suddenly she remembered that I was there beneath her: She looked down at me
and smiled, playfully pinching my nipples and saying "Thanks, baby!" like I'd
just held a door for her or picked up a piece of paper she'd dropped. She
unceremoniously rose up off me, slipped off the bed and went into the bathroom
and closed the door.

I took the opportunity to gingerly reach down to my scrotum and open the
release valve and then squeeze the fluid out of the penile prostheses and back
into the reservoir, allowing my Johnson to finally relax. It was raw and sore,
but I was so spent that I had no problem falling asleep immediately. I barely
noticed when sometime later Rachel slipped into bed behind me and wrapped her
incredibly strong arms and legs around me. Even were I not exhausted, I
wouldn't have been going anywhere.

A little while later, Rachel must have figured I'd rested enough, because she
woke me by kissing my neck. I groaned, but she quickly got my attention by
gently rolling my nipples between her fingers while murmuring in my ear "You
were SO good, baby, you were a freakin' MACHINE! It was so good for me, I just
gotta have some more ... you ready?" Even though I knew I'd be sore, I was
becoming ready. I reached down and began squeezing the pump. For once she took
notice of what I was doing. "Hey, what's going on, there?" It was then that I
revealed my secret: in a way, I WAS part machine. She was fascinated by it,
made me deflate it and then pump it up again, then SHE deflated it and pumped
it up again. She made it as hard as possible, then began slowly stroking it
with her hand. She laughed when I gasped and my eyes closed, the intense
pleasure overwhelming me.

She soon mounted and fucked me into oblivion once again. I held on as long as
I could, but when she again began clenching and furiously pounding me like a
madwoman on the way to her own nirvana, I lost it. I exploded and collapsed,
then watched in amazement as she continued fucking me at a delirious pace
until she again shook and roared with satisfaction. This time, however, when
she was finished she very gently released me and then SHE operated the release
valve, deflated me and squeezed the fluid back into the reservoir. She lay
down beside me and watched me fall into a deep sleep.

Sometime later, I awoke to the feeling most normal men recognize as morning
wood, but it startled me because with implants that doesn't happen. I looked
down my body to find she had pumped me up and taken me into her hand. Slowly,
gently, she began deep throating as much of me as she could. I moaned, and she
chuckled through her nose while she continued expertly blowing my cock and my
mind. After only a little while, however, she rose up and slowly lowered
herself onto me, enveloping my meat sword to the hilt. I was still sore, and
embarrassed myself by whining up at her, "Rachel, please, I don't think I can
... ."

"SHHHH!" she hissed. "This one is for you, baby." She looked deep into my eyes
as she gently and ever so slowly rose up and down on my inflated member, and I
soon forgot all about being sore. I was lost in her eyes, and she soon saw
that I was again in her thrall: She continued to ride me slowly, but now used
her incredible vaginal muscle control to clench and unclench around my
pulsating pillar of pud as she moved up and down. I was so mesmerized by her
and so overwhelmed by the intense sensations she was making me feel that I was
unaware I was unconsciously moaning with every stroke. Suddenly she laughed
and quickened her pace, clenching me so hard she was nearly lifting me off the
bed on each upstroke, still staring hotly into my eyes, consciously fucking me
toward an impending orgasm. I held on as long as I possibly could, but she was
riding me like a bucking bronco, and she quickly broke me: I cried out as I
exploded inside her, her pussy hold on me losing its grip slightly due to the
slippery overflow of cum flowing down my shaft. She settled onto me and began
rhythmically twat-milking my member until it had given up every last drop of
nectar, extracting more cries of ecstasy from me, until my love organ
dry-heaved its last. She leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead and then
lifted herself off me. She reached down and found the release valve, opened it
and squeezed the fullness out of both cavernosa until I was completely
flaccid. She waggled her glistening fingers in my face, and I licked every bit
of cum from them before I lapsed into exhausted sleep.

I awoke to see the dim glow of morning twilight coming from behind the window
curtain, and I was shocked to find Rachel had already enveloped me! I must
have been so worn out that I didn't wake up even while she was pumping my
passion pole into the ready position. I groaned. "Rachel, please!" I whined.
"I can't take anymore! Please!"

She slapped me, not hard, but enough to shock me and get my attention. "Be
quiet!" she hissed through gritted teeth. She was already thrusting up and
down and back and forth with abandon, all her muscles flexing with sexual
tension. "This one's mine, baby, and I only need one part of you right now."
She was pounding my hips into the bed, clenching and lifting me upward, then
back down. Then she changed to thrusting forward and back, slamming my abused
appendage against her sugar walls, then again returned to an intense riding
motion for a while. I was incredibly sore, but I knew better than to challenge
her: I was along for the ride whether or not I wanted to be, and eventually
there was pleasure to go with the pain. I soon came again, although I had
nothing left to expel. I moaned and collapsed under her, but she was far from
finished, riding my artificially hardened pole for all it was worth.

After what seemed like a painful eternity, she growled as she switched to
forward and back thrusting, frustrated, driving herself toward climax.
"GRRRR!" she growled again, as she grabbed the top of the headboard and used
it as leverage to thrust even harder, moving me up the bed every time she
slammed forward. I had to reach up and push against the headboard with my
hands to keep my head from being driven into it. My resistance was apparently
just what she needed: "YEAH!" she bellowed as her thrusting incredibly became
even faster and harder, and soon she came like a man, driving herself though
her climax without stopping. "Y AAAAAAH!" exploded from her as she powered
through to the end, the headboard making a cracking noise as her last massive
thrusts drove her to satisfaction.

As she made her last finishing thrusts, I felt rather than heard a sickening
POP inside my member. A feeling of liquid warmth spread through my abdomen as
my love pillar softened and collapsed inside her, then went completely limp
and slunk out of her, dribbling little drops of blood onto the sheets. She
looked down at me, dumbfounded, then giggled. "Oh baby!" she said with
amusement, "You've sprung a leak!" She slid off the bed and slipped on her
dress, then gathered up her other clothing.

"Dammit, Rachel" I cried, "You've busted my implants!"

She giggled again. "Oh! Well, sorry, baby." She blew me a kiss. "Call me when
you get 'em fixed. I just rented this room to fuck in, so you can stay until
checkout time, if you want." As she breezed out the door, she called over her
shoulder, "That was great, baby, thanks!"

I had six weeks to think about that night over and over again while I was
waiting for the surgery to replace my implants. The Urologist looked down at
me on the operating table just before they put me under, and chastised me in a
fatherly way: "I know you're still a young man and all, but maybe you should
pace yourself with this one, eh?" I only hoped I could ... . It would largely
depend on whether Rachel ever found me again.