First Encounter, part 2
by Dusty Bottoms,  junkbond@hotmail.com
further adventures of an incredible agent



II.

    It had been too easy, really. It was nice in a plain, simple way. 
She waited in the treetops, green rubber suit glistening in the 
moonlight, and ruminated on her latest exploits. The bodies of the men 
she had destroyed so far had been soft and pitifully weak. She had no 
idea why so many women were dominated by brutish, almost beastlike 
men....so far she had found them weak and fit only for a bit of fun. 
    Where did she know of other women though? Up until this night her 
interactions with other people could be counted on two hands, besides 
the doctors at the institute. The information and basic loathing she 
felt for these clumsy and bestial creatures was nearly innate; she could 
not remember where it had come from. Her brow furrowed in thought. There 
was so much she didn't know, even about herself....a sound came from 
below her. Footsteps. 
    
    
    A sound came from above him. Frank spun on his heel, his gun barrel 
going skyward. A dark shape, a bat, pinwheeled through the sky above. He 
sighed and mopped his brow with a hankerchief. 
    "Damn," he said to himself. "This is weird. We should just cut outta 
here." 
    The hankerchief slipped out of his hand and fell to the earth. He 
sighed again, knelt to pick it up, and stopped suddenly. A shoe was 
poking out of the bushes to his right, about ten feet off the path, half 
hidden by the gloom. 
    Frank stood and checked around himself in all directions. Clear. He 
trotted over and knelt once more, this time intending to find out the 
identity of the fallen man. He turned the prone form over, and his eyes 
widened in shock. It was a man he almost recognized, but the shape of 
the man's head was all wrong. Near the jaw, and the back of the skull, 
where the neck connects to the head itself, deep depressions could be 
seen in the bone. Bulges marked where pressure had forced bone and skin 
and flesh upwards and downwards, making the overall shape of the head 
resemble something out of a cartoon. It looked as if he had been put 
into a head vice and crushed. 
    Something small and hard pressed into his back and he froze. 
    "Shh, honey, don't say a word." 
    A woman's voice. Throaty, sultry, yes, definitely feminine. But 
commanding. 
    "Now, stand up. Slow. Or  I'll shoot you." 
    Frank did as he was told. His mind reeled, trying to find a way out 
of the situation that had suddenly gone out of his control. 
    "Umm, that's more like it," the voice said. A body pressed against 
him, and even through his suit jacket he could feel the form of his 
attacker. Firm breasts touching his lower back (Frank was a large man, 
even bigger than LaSalle). 
    "Okay....my, you are a big one, aren't you?" the voice continued, 
and suddnely he felt a hand snaking its way around his side, down, down, 
past his waist.... 
    "Uh-" he began. 
    A stunning blow smashed into his head, and the world went gray. He 
shuddered and sagged to his knees. His captor knelt with him, as her 
pressure to his back remained constant. 
    "I said quiet!" her voice was stern, but not devoid of a mocking 
tone. "Now, I can be nice about this, or I can be nasty. Very, very 
nasty. You don't want that. Believe me. I can do things to you...." her 
voice trailed off into soft chuckles. "Well, I can make you make your 
friend look like he went to Club Med." 
    The hand continued its course. Frank shook his head clear and 
glanced down, just in time to see a black rubber covered hand slide 
under his belt and into his khakis. 
    A warm, moist mouth closed over his right earlobe. At the same time, 
the gloved hand gripped him in a light but commanding grasp. Her tongue 
trailed slowly over the lobe, and her breath was quick and heavy in such 
close proximity. His heart rate increased, and he relaxed involuntarily. 
The right hand began to pull him this way and that, and he was at his 
full length almost immediately. The glove made the woman's grip soft and 
cool, somehow very slippery. Her hand and mouth both moved on him 
expertly, and in less than a minute he felt as though he would come. 
    "You like that?" She whispered to him. " I know you do. Well....." A 
smile was evident in her voice as her left hand crept up to stroke the 
left side of his jaw. "...I have a confession to make. What would you 
say if ....oh, wait. I told you not to speak. Don't say anything or I'll 
snap your neck like a twig, okay? Believe me, I can; I'm more than 
strong enough. Now, I am a newly trained agent of the federal 
government. In fact, I was raised from childhood with the express 
purpose of performing operations like this.  Now, after I'm done with 
you, I am going to break your soft little body to pieces, okay? I'm 
going to smash you into a bleeding mess. I will smash your bones into 
powder and crush the life right out of you. I can do this because I have 
been trained since eight in vigorous physical exercises, experimental 
drug therapy that has had profound effects on my muscularity, and 
martial arts training that shames most action stars. You will not live 
much longer, so enjoy this, baby." 
    Her mouth resumed its work and her hand increased its rythmn. He 
struggled against it, but it was inevitable. Her hand tightened and 
realeased, squeezed and released, until finally he came in a great 
spasming flood. 
    And suddenly he was free. He stood and spun around, eyes wide. 
    She stood before him, hands on her hips, feet wide apart. Her suit 
glinted in the faint light, and he was awed for a moment by her beauty. 
He faked left, then lunged forward and grasped her by her shoulders. 
    The woman laughed lightly and stepped back. Her own hands came up 
and crossed over his on the top and outside. She bent her arms at the 
elbow and brought them up, and then grabbed the sides of his neck 
tightly, with his arms intertwined with her own. 
    "Oh, okay, here we go, baby," she purred. With that, she 
straightened her arms with an explosive movement, and both of his 
forearms snapped with harsh crunching sounds. He mewled in pain and 
stagged back, a bit. 
    She held on still though, and only smiled gorgeously at him. 
"Ummm....that's nothing, sweets." She leaned forward and kissed him full 
on the mouth, her moist tongue briefly exploring his mouth which was 
open, trying desperately to collect as much oxygen as possible. Finally 
she broke the kiss. 
    "Sorry, baby, but I kind of enjoy this, and I lose control of myself 
a bit. But I do have the piece of mind to do something like this....oh, 
just so you know, this is going to hurt. A lot." 
    She snapped his useless arms down and back at the same time, using 
her grip on his neck as leverage. His shoulders seperated with a low 
popping sound, and his voice was taken away by a sudden overload of 
pain. She released him entirely, and he staggered back a step or two. 
    He swayed in front of her, and she actually tapped her foot and 
chewed on the end of one black gloved finger as she thought. 
    "Hmmm...there are so many ways that I could hurt you. I have been 
trained for years in the fine points of torture, so I know what will 
hurt you and what will kill you." 
    She stepped forward and placed the tips of her first and second 
finger on his chest, just under his collarbone. She licked her lips at 
him mockingly and then gave a quick, sudden, but very slight jab on this 
point. A hollow booming noise sounded within him, and a flower of white-
hot pain blossomed in his chest. He screamed weakly and grabbed his 
chest. 
    "That manuever I learned from a monk from Mongolia," she mocked. "I 
hate to tell you this, but you are already dead. Only emergency surgery 
can save you now. That little stab sent a concussion wave through out 
your chest, and caused every major artery to rupture. When they do your 
autopsy, it'll look like a bomb went off in there." 
    She struck a double bicep pose in front of him. Not overly muscular, 
but awesomely toned, she was a vision in her green suit and vinyl 
glaoves and boots, a vision of pain and pleasure. Frank tried to speak, 
but all that came out of his mouth was a thin trail of blood. 
    "You see, I am trained intensively and given enhancement drugs at 
regular intervals. It has started an actual metabolic change in me, and 
I am now as strong as roughly ten men." 
    She blew him a kiss, stepped close to him, wrapped one hand around 
his belt, and lifted him two feet into the air with no visible sign of 
effort. 
    "Ten BIG men," she added and chuckled. She put him down, wrapped her 
arms around his chest and hips, and knelt, her knee against the small of 
his back. 
    "My muscles have destroyed you, baby. You were stronger than the 
others, but far from a  match for me. I have crumpled your body into a 
dying mass, and now I'm going to snap your spine. You will feel the 
pressure exerted on you by me, and you won't believe it is possible. But 
it is. It will increase until your backbone shatters into powder. So, I 
bid you goodnight, sweet prince. It's been fun." 
    She blew him a kiss, and slowly pressed down with her arms. His back 
bent around her slim but powerful leg, the muscular thigh digging into 
his skin. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound emerged. 
    She laughed aloud again, and pushed down suddenly. His sternum 
exploded from the force of her pressure, as well as his hip bone. His 
vertebrae cracked and cut his spinal cord in six places; the life fled 
his body like rats from a ship. 
    She sighed, stood, and hoisted his body above her head, and tossed 
it fifteen feet into the brush, safely out of sight. She ran her hands 
through her fiery hair, down her body, and rested them on her hips. 
    4 down, 2 to go, she thought merrily. 

to be continued.