StrykeForce 1: Out of Their League

Samantha could feel the increasingly smothering liquid heat as the truck rear rose and began to pitch. "NNNNAAAWWW! NNNAAAWWW!" She screamed, tossing her hair and futilely trying to roll around in the garbage like a great worm as she attempted to escape the rapidly encroaching, searing heat that was so intense that it grabbed her heart in abject panic.

"NNAAAAWWWW!!!NNNAAAAWWWW!" She screamed again and again.

The rear of the truck rose and rose until it had reached a stopping point and all of the interior garbage had emptied and fallen into the flames. A column of smoke rose high and into the sky as the trash was turned to ash. Andrew told the men with hand signals that he believed they had gotten all of it. The truck then lowered the rear lift and pulled about ten feet away from the dangerous heat.

Andrew took a look inside the back of the truck to confirm that it had emptied itself and ran around to the front cab. "You got it. Looked like a pretty good haul you had there, too." He told the driver.

"We had built it up all day yesterday... couldn't get here in time before you closed."

"Come on by anytime." Andrew told them.

The men gave him a salute and pulled away and left the yard.

"Nice fellas." Said Andrew while checking them off of his manifest.

And the column of smoke from the incinerator wafted up from the smoke stack for another hour or so as the incinerator consumed its first contents of the day.

*******

Large, heavy clouds were splotched across the late afternoon sky. Rain was soon to come, along with the changing tone of the weather. Faith knelt in her garden digging and planting away, happy that soon her babies would have all the nourishment they needed from mother nature. She wore dark blue capri pants that hugged her figure and allowed her the full freedom of movement she required to work in the garden. One her feet: regular flip flops for around the house work time. One her head: she had the usual bandanna that pulled her hair backwards and was tied in the back.

She wore a long sleeve, button down blouse that had the sleeves rolled up on her arms all the way to her elbows. The bottom half of the shirt was rolled up as well and the ends were tied together just below her bra-less breasts. The cooling air of the approaching evening made her "eraser head" nipples just a little hard, just a little sensitive and when they rubbed against her shirt as she moved, she privately enjoyed the small amount of pleasure.

It was all the pleasure she could allow herself these days as she furiously worked to set aside the disaster that the lives of Stryke Force 1 had quickly become ever since they had come up against the "brick wall" of Mr. Ken Turgesen's operation. It had been two weeks now since their glaring, humiliating and all too public defeat had hit the internet and also found its way to her past employers.

She had money, but what she would do for work now, was still up in the air. She also had still not spoken to Lizzelle or Samantha about any possible future plans. Thinking about the future of Ken Turgesen loosed upon Capitol City, was a thought she constantly pushed aside and into the back of her mind. But the thought rarely stayed there for long.

The increasingly cooler breeze came rushing through the plants and trees of her backyard and made a calming "rushing" sound. It blew little strands of hair into her eyes and she removed a gardening glove which she wore on both hands, and brushed back the hair with the back of her hand. She looked around her garden as it flowed and pitched with the slightly forceful breeze. The garden was quite the beautiful monument to her years of work on it, and she at least could be satisfied about that while suffering the dark pain in her soul.

The back screen door of her house casually swung open, and into the garden walked the six foot two figure of Mac Jefferson. He was clean shaven and had a small earring on one lobe. He wore a very expensive, black pin stripe suit with a black shirt and a gold tie. Over the suit he wore a tan trench coat like an old school detective. He calmly walked right up to where Faith was kneeling in the garden.

When she saw him, knowing that no one was at home with her at the time, she was trapped momentarily between action and panic, as seeing this man walk from within her house and into her private garden was the absolute last thing she had ever expected. She rose from her spot as he approached her, with a look of surprise and confusion that she tried to keep in check. Then, all of a sudden, she could sense there were other men behind her, closing in on her position. She surmised that they must have scaled the cement wall that surrounded the entire back of the house.

On her bare midrift, and her face, she could feel little small sprinkles in the breeze as the rain began to fall from the darkened clouds in the sky. A small metal ball, with an iris in its center silently peeked over the cement wall.

With frozen eyes on Mac and a choke in her throat she forced out, "Wh-who are you men??? What are you doing here?" She then removed her gardening gloves completely and tried to get ready for anything. She knew the men had surrounded her, but turned and quickly surveyed them anyway just to keep things like secret identities as safe as she could.

Mac walked up to her and shook his head, "No, no, no...." He told her as he reached up for her bandana. "Don't lie, Faith. The time for lying is past." With that he pushed the bandanna off of her head and it fell to the ground at her feet. When he did that, an electric charge ran through her body that she found hard to deny.

With her shiny brown hair falling to the sides of her face, Mac held her head with both hands and pressed his mouth to hers in a passionate kiss. The kiss confirmed to her whom he was beyond a shadow of a doubt, and the fact that he had spoken to her by her first name, had made a small depressed storm begin to build within her. He knew who she was. He was here surrounding her with his men. She was defenseless.

Her lips made a little pulling gesture as he pulled back from the kiss and it left her mouth slightly open and hungry looking. She watched him with a mixture of alarmed and lustful eyes. He said to her, taking her by the hand as though he were an old friend or lover, "C'mon. I want you to come with me." Then he turned and walked casually with her into the house. His men, still wearing their balaclavas, followed right behind them.

He lead her to the luxurious couch in the living room, where she and Aaron had spent many a happy weekend night watching movies or enjoying a sports event on the television. He directed her to take a seat and as she did he slipped in beside her, placing his arm around her back and hugging her in close. Her face was only inches from his own as he gave directions to his men to begin whatever instructions they had planned at this point. Each man unrolled a large black, duffel-bag which they had carried under their arms and then took off toward different rooms within Faith's home.

She watched him silently, with tensely concerned eyes. He turned to her face and forced his mouth on to her own in a passionate kiss. He began groping her swollen, stimulated breasts, as though they belonged to him, her firmly rounded buttocks, as though they belonged to him, and cruelly used her mouth, as though it belonged to him.

Faith could only murmur and mewl helplessly as he fondled and groped her at will. To her chagrin, her sex became a flame of fire and began frothing like a geyser at his forceful administrations. Deep within her person, she had a dark contrast of shameful self recrimination mixed with a rapidly exploding sexual desire.

She could hear the men rifling through her house, emptying the silverware in the kitchen, taking jewelry from her bedroom, and opening drawers in every room as they filled their sacks with her personal valuables. The entire time Mac forced his sexual will upon her and she could only find a decision within herself for full compliance to his needs. His tongue was a hot poker in her mouth and his forceful, kneading hands on her yielding flesh sent waves of pleasure through her needy body.

His men smiled as they watched Mac make short work of the heroine on her own couch. They told him before hand, as they arrived to pick up Gold Stryke and bring her to Mr. Turgesen himself, that Mac must be cautious and wear his balaclava in order to protect his identity. But he had assured them that he was about to give a lesson in how one owns a woman, and he would have nothing to worry about. From the way he manhandled the former beauty queen and crime fighter, his men felt a special added assurance in Mac's ability to lead them in the future.

Outside, there was heat thunder and a rushing wind that began bringing the rapidly approaching storm. Another small, metal ball with a camera lense came zzzziiiiippppp-ing down toward the house from out of the approaching storm clouds.

After long moments of Mac's grinding and fondling and lighting an explosion of desire deep within Faith's breast, one of his men suddenly appeared beside them. "Boss?" The masked man quietly asked.

Mac pulled his tongue from Faith's pulping, wet mouth and without letting her go from behind her back, he replied, "Yeah..... watcha got?"

Her face was inches from his as she watched him with sleepy, adoring eyes. Her cheeks were flushed with desire and slickly wet from the mix of their saliva.

The man produced a box, not unlike a metal safety deposit box, with a combination lock on the front center. "It's a box we found in her closet. Hidden pretty well, must be important." He told Mac.

Mac turned to her and said, "Open it."

She looked into his eyes, which made her slightly cross her own due to his close proximity, searching for some sort of reprieve from the man, some sort of mercy. She knew what the box contained, and what it meant for her father's retirement age, and she hesitated.

He took her wrist gently, the one on the hand which was lying on his chest, and he admonished her again with a slightly casual manner that belied the truth of the situation. "Go on, open it." He said nodding.

She pressed her lips tightly together and wanted to tell him to go to hell and leave the money she had saved for her father alone. But instead, she reached up and turned the combination nob three times, opening the metal box. She then settled back again against his shoulder and placed her hand back upon his chest. She said nothing.

The man looked inside and saw two stacks of thousand dollar bills, which he surmised must be about ten thousand dollars. "Yep," Mac agreed. "Put that in a special bag for ME. I am going to make a trip to Vegas this Christmas."

"Yes, sir." The man replied and moved off to follow directions.

Mac turned to her and saw her frustrated expression at what he had just had her do. "Shame, shame," He told her while wagging a finger. "Don't you superheroines know that it's a Federal Crime to have more than five thousand dollars in your home?"

She pursed her lips again and gave him a frustrated look, but still had no verbal answer. He then went back to pressing his sexual advantage as his men looted her home.

"OOOmmmmOOmm!" Faith moaned as he once again forced his tongue deep within her mouth and groped her lusciously curved behind.

After what must have been a half an hour or so, Mac's men returned with all they could take from Faith's belongings. They would have to return later for the bigger stuff. By this time, Faith was woozy and lust filled beyond anything she had ever felt and her body was pliable and compliant to any and all administrations that Mac desired.

He pulled her up off of the sofa and placed his arm around her waist again, guiding and controlling her body and she wobbled and swooned under his control. "Bring a Salvation Army truck tomorrow and clean the place out.... get as much as you can." He told his men.

He then directed her outside to the street where his men had a van waiting, and Mac had a limosene with a driver who had been waiting the whole time. The storm now raged with aggressive drops of water and he directed Faith into the rear seat of the limo. With a slap on her behind, he followed her inside.

Once inside, on the passenger seat, he pulled her in close for another sensual, woozy, lust filled kiss and then slipped his hand between her legs to get a full feel for the hot, wet mess her sex had become in his hands. He stroked and rubbed her sex while he deeply kissed her. The limo started up and pulled away from the curb with the van following close behind.

Faith, with her shirt now fully opened revealing her stimulated, swollen breasts and attractively flat tummy, could only undulate under his controlling touch. She moaned and cooed and made little throaty sounds as he ravaged her body. "MMmmmNNNNnnn! OOOmmuuunnnn! Oohhhggggfffuuukkkkk!" Nothing mattered but the licking, sucking and gentle love biting of his tongue; the thrilling feel of his powerful hands over her body.

The car and van made their way onto the nearby interstate highway and blended in with the quickly moving traffic. The storm washed and buffeted the limo as it made its way. Mac then pulled away from the swooning former heroine and looked deeply into her eyes, he loved that her breasts were so exposed and vulnerable to him and yet she did nothing to prevent whatever he may decide to do.

He looked into her foggy eyes and said, "I want to tell you something, Faith Eaves." His mouth was only an inch or so from hers and she could smell and taste the breath of the man. "Mr. Turgesen has a crazy science dude who comes up with a lot of the stuff that has defeated heroine's like you all over the country. He came up with a chemical that Turgesen wanted me and my men to drink that changed the makeup of our semen and was supposed to effect your brains somehow. I think that worked, for the most part.

But, he also had these green suits with a colorless, ordoless gas that was supposed to be leaking out so you could inhale it deeply during our battle. That might have worked a little, too, making your team less of a fighters than you could be. But, here's the thing.... I'm the only one of us whose cock you sucked...... I'm the only one you fought and fucked.....and yet here you are, under my control.... unable to save yourself."

He then kissed her lightly on the lips and continued. "I didn't drink anything I was given by Quimby, the scientist. I just told Turgesen I did. I hated the stuff. It tasted like ass. I hate things that taste like ass, you know?" He said casually.

She nodded her agreement. "Yes, I know what you mean."

"I also disabled the gas in the green suit. Didn't use it. Didn't want it....... the bottom line here miss superheroine, is that it was all ME. No chemicals..... no gas..... just a man who was better than you...... and here you are..... kissing me like a whore with my hand in your snatch.....because you just can't get enough of it..... enough of ME"

She watched him with serious eyes as he went quiet and waited for her response. Despite her love for Senator Aaron Chatelaine and her desire to be his future wife, she also knew that this strange man, who had beaten her, abused her, whose name she didn't even know...... was dead on correct. She just couldn't get enough of this man. The man who now massaged her sex freely and without reserve, in the manner that she had taught him, and caused her a pleasure deep within her that she ravenously felt a need to satisfy.

She waited a few moments, looking deeply into his eyes as he continued to massage her sex and she asked, "Where are you taking me?"

He nodded. "To be eliminated."

She gave a bit of a gasp, then lowered her eyes. After a moment she looked back up again and asked, "Will it be..... painful?"

"Of course." He replied as he pressed his mouth to hers once again in a deep tongue kiss, his hand upping the rate of massage on her vibrating, soaking hot quim. She moaned and pressed her naked chest into his.

The car and van continued on down the interstate toward the horizon and the glorious setting sun. The clouds had opened up and now dropped buckets of water on the travelers. Water covered Mac's limo with wave after wave of wet wash as the limo made its way toward its final destination while passing through the November rain.

All the while a small metal ball ziiiiiiiipppped through the rain behind the car. Silently waiting. Silently watching.