Tales of Jenine, Chapter 1
Entry to Casablanca… the Beginning
IN THE ATLANTIC FIFTY MILES OFF THE COAST OF MORROCO
The converted flat-bottomed coastal steamer rolled heavily in the deep Atlantic swells, the motion uncomfortable for even the seasoned sailors who stood watch on the bridge. In addition to those hardened seamen, a dozen men from the Fatidah, desert-loving men who were far less familiar with the sea, were perched up in the lookout positions, all of them craning their necks upward as they searched for the aircraft that was to meet them. All except for the ones who kept hanging over the rails in misery as their stomachs emptied themselves. Again and again.
Captain Spurling walked nervously back and forth across the bridge, swearing softly under his breath as he glanced impatiently at his watch for the tenth time in less than five minutes. No doubt about it now, the plane was definitely late!
He was very worried now, a natural worrier by nature, his mind already imagining the invisible radar beams that could be reaching out even now from the shore installation to reveal his ship's location. The sabotage at that radar installation had been guaranteed to down the station for only five or six hours. Yet that attack had taken place more than six hours ago! If the Moroccan technicians were efficient at all, assuming enough of them had survived the attack, the station should be coming back up on the air right about now.
Spurling was on his hundredth pace of the bridge when one of the lookouts suddenly cried out, pointing his arm excitedly upward to point between two large cumulus clouds. Following the man's arm, the Captain's unaided eyes were able to see a red streak that grew brighter and brighter as it headed directly toward them. Staring at it as it raced closer to him, moving at incredible speed, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, instinctively aware that this was no ordinary plane. He had fought on the Egyptian side against Israel in two wars now, and he knew how even the fastest fighter aircraft looked in flight, how they took many minutes to cross the sky, even at supersonic speed, when they were that high. Yet this glowing object managed to cross half the sky in only a few seconds! Zooming directly over his ship at extreme altitude, the faint reddish trail slowly turned into a white vapor trail as it descended and approached the opposite horizon. Then, just before it dropped below the horizon, it made an incredibly fast turn, reversing its course in less than a second. Spiraling down toward the storm-tossed ocean, it wasn't long before the indistinct dot at the leading edge of the vapor trail began to take on a definite saucer shape. His eyes wide open in astonishment, Spurling saw that the vehicle looked like something right out of a cheap 1950's sci/fi movie!
He swallowed hard as he finally accepted that all the rumors were true; he now knew that the Fatidah were indeed working with aliens! He had heard about the aliens, through rumor only, but enough to know that they were an radically violent race. Many of the Fatidah had died while trying to work with them, the tendency of the Fatidah to betray their companions had been poorly tolerated by the aliens in their midst. The penalty for putting personal wealth ahead of their cause, even the penalty for simple failure or incompetence, had been violent death.
Feeling a growing sense of anxiety, Spurling found that he couldn't take his eyes from the glowing saucer! It was similar to the objects that so many people had pursued over the years, calling them UFO's or Flying Saucers. Yet there was nothing 'unidentified' about this craft. The envelope he had opened a few hours before had told him that this craft belonged to a space-faring race known only as the 'Arions'.
Every man on the ship was now staring in fascination at the saucer-shaped craft as it approached their ship, the vehicle skimming very low above the waves. Spurling's eyes grew larger and larger as it flew close enough that he could finally determine the size of it: my God…it was HUGE!
His own ship, large for a coastal freighter, was nearly 400' long. Yet the saucer was even larger than his ship, easily 500' in diameter! If this was supposed to just be one of their landing craft, how big were the Mother Ships? Shaking his head in disbelief, he finally regained his composure enough to call for All Stop. The engine room bells jingled in response as the old barnacled hull quickly lost way to begin rolling even more uncomfortably on the large swells.
At the same time, the sound coming from the saucer grew much louder as it approached. The high-pitched humming sound made his head hurt as the craft loomed just over his ship and a bit to starboard. It stabilized its hover, floating motionless just above his ship. Simply hovering there for several minutes, Spurling growing increasingly anxious as he waited for it do open a door or dock with his ship... something! Anything!
Suddenly, just as he was debating trying to walk out on the deck to signal it with a light, he saw rays of blue light appearing beneath the dark shape of the saucer, the bright beams outlining a hatch that opened slowly. A sudden bright beam of yellow light shone from what had to be an incredibly bright interior, the beam lighting the foredeck of his ship like a spotlight. And in the middle of that bright beam, a long metallic stairway silently began dropping down toward the deck of his ship!
Despite his growing anxiety, Spurling was impressed with the alien's control of their craft. The massive saucer seemed to adjust itself to the movement of his ship, following even the largest rogue swells as if it were riding on them itself as if it were auto-stabilized. The base of the ladder, in fact, was soon perfectly stationary as it rested against the rusted deck of his ship.
Taking a deep breath, Spurling began to walk forward from the bridge, most of that distance being under the curving edge of the giant saucer. He felt an almost oppressive weight on his shoulders as the massive dark craft hovered over him, his teeth aching from the high pitched hum of the alien machinery. Machinery that he knew had to be some kind of anti-gravity field.
His suspicions were confirmed when he passed directly under the center of the saucer, his feet suddenly feeling so light that he had to grab the railing to keep his balance. Fortunately, the low gravity field was fairly narrow and his weight soon grew back to normal and then greater than normal as he approached the opposite third of the craft. Struggling to stay on his feet as his weight increased, he felt increasingly uncomfortable as the humming vibrations made his entire body ache. Glancing again and again at the monstrous dark hulk of the spacecraft, he was afraid that it would suddenly drop down and crush him. It was just so fucking BIG!
Gritting his teeth from the irritating noise and the strain of walking under increased gravity, he moved ever closer toward it, climbing up the ship's stairway to join the bosun and his First on the raised foredeck of his ship. The two of them were holding the bottom of the shiny metallic stairs that had descended from the alien machine. Glancing at his bosun, Greg, and then at his First, the men exchanged quick and painful looks with him. The high-pitched vibrations and increased gravity were obviously uncomfortable for the rest of the crew as well.
Spurling's eyes suddenly followed his First's upward as someone or something began moving down the ladder. They weren't sure what to expect, neither of them believing the rumors they had heard about the beautiful female Arions. Stories that sounded like the impossible fantasies of a young man.
Whatever the creature was, they could see that 'it' was holding a very large gray box, one that was maybe three feet on a side. Watching as the box moved lower, they soon recognized that the 'creature' holding it was actually a very attractive young woman, perhaps 5'4" tall and in her early 20's, her body looking very human and extremely pretty. She looked just like an Earth woman, dressed in what looked like a pair of faded Levi 501's and a pink T-shirt. Glancing back at each other, they grinned as men are prone to do when spotting such a pretty young woman. But even more than that, their first view of an alien from the infinite reaches of outer space didn't turn out to be some bug-eyed monster with green skin and mottled tentacles. Their view was instead that of the most beautiful dark-haired woman they had ever seen. The rumors had been true!
Stepping back as the raven-haired beauty neared the bottom of the stairs, Spurling wore a big smile; the impolite glances from his wandering eyes hardly lost on the woman as he greeted her.
"Welcome aboard," he said in a strong voice. "Is this the 'object' that we agreed upon?"
Jenine looked down at the filthy rust-covered ship beneath her, ignoring the rude man and his wandering eyes. She paused briefly near the bottom of the stairs, the muscles of her neck and shoulders working a bit now as she entered the high gravity field, her arms supporting the bottom of the large box. Three large Terran men rushed up, apparently to take the weight from her. A small smile crossed her face as she hesitated for a moment, remembering what her Division Leader had told her about these Terrans, about how pitifully weak they were.
Yet these men seemed to be very eager and they certainly looked strong enough to hold such a box. Besides, they knew what she was bringing them and they would know how much it massed, how much it weighed on this world. Yet they were only Terrans. Shrugging at the impossibility of their holding such a weight, but deciding to test them anyhow, a twinge of cruel pleasure excited her. Smiling sexily in response to their leering grins, she reached her arms straight out to effortlessly hand it to them. After all, it was their ship and they appeared to know what they were doing. Or not.
Spurling stared at the woman, increasingly puzzled as he watched her slim body flexing in some very unusual ways. He noticed how her arms suddenly looked far stronger than he would have expected for such a young woman, her biceps stretching the thin cotton of her shirt, her shoulders flexing ever more dramatically as she extended her arms further and further out to hand the huge box to his men. He suddenly remembered the rumors that he had heard about these aliens, about how unbelievably strong they sometimes were. He suddenly felt a dreadful premonition! Deciding to play it safe, he shouted to his deck crew. "HOLD IT, men. You need to use the hoist! That box is far too heavy for you to lift!"
The three men heard the Captain's order, but they ignored it in their enthusiasm, all three of them grinning like idiots as they rushed forward to take the box from the alien woman, even though it didn't look like it was heavy enough to require all of them. The box was obviously mostly air, the slim but pretty woman they saw before them maybe able to lift 30 pounds or so, probably less now that her arms were holding it straight out in front of her. Despite the obviously light weight, they all grabbed at it eagerly, standing directly beneath the three-foot wide box. Their main motivation wasn't truly to help her, but to simply get a better look at such a gorgeous woman and perhaps impress her with their rough gallantry; they had been at sea for a long time! Reaching up toward the stairway above them, they slid their shoulders and arms under the gray box, feeling the weight beginning to transfer from the woman's outstretched arms.
They were immediately astounded as the weight just kept growing and GROWING on their shoulders! Suddenly, all three of them were trapped under the box; their legs bending under the massive weight as the woman ever so slowly released it. Bit by bit, they bent downward, work-hardened tendons and muscles straining and finally tearing as they screamed in pain! Ignoring their frantic cries, the woman just smiled sweetly at them. Then, just as she felt their bodies collapsing under the weight, she let go of the box completely!
The massive weight immediately crushed the men's bodies to the deck with a force that made the entire ship shudder! The gruesome sound of splintering bones and the squeal of bending deck plates was clearly audible to the rest of the deck crew, the unfortunate men's bodies crushed lifeless beneath the massively heavy box, their soft flesh serving as nothing more than a wet bloody cushion for its fall, the steel deck dimpling slightly where one corner of the box struck it!
Jenine looked down disgustedly at the crushed men, a funny crooked smile on her face. So, these Terrans really WERE as weak as she had heard! These three large men had been crushed beneath a box that weighed less than 70 kurlik, a weight an eight year old Prime child might play with under a yellow sun! Sighing, she stepped off the stairs while reaching down to casually grip the smooth ends of the box, her model slim body flexing gracefully while easily lifting it up to reveal the crushed gore that lay on the deck beneath it. Walking carefully to avoid stepping on the bright blood that flowed across the deck, she walked lightly and casually forward, her intensely blue eyes squinting briefly as she scanned through the rusted deckplates to find the underlying support beams. Given the way the deck was bending beneath the weight of the box, the heels of her boots making depressions in the metal, she wanted to keep her feet directly above the supports.
While Jenine didn't say anything to the men, she was quietly shocked at how fragile this entire ship and these men were, astounded at how primitive the ship's construction was. Her remarkable eyes sparkled brightly as she narrowed her eyelids, homing in on the metal itself to quickly discern that it was made only of a primitive iron-based metal. She hadn't seen anything made of that stuff since her last visit to the Terran museum on Aria. At the time, she had thought she was looking at antiquities, not current technology!
Meanwhile, on the other side of the foredeck, Spurling was feeling ill as his eyes moved back and forth between his three badly crushed men and the alien woman, the hard tight muscles of her slim arms flexing surprisingly large while lifting the box, her firmly distinct buttocks, very shapely and feminine, stretching her jeans almost to the ripping point. Even though he had known that some of these aliens were reputed to be immensely strong, it was really something else to see such a model-slim and wonderfully attractive young woman effortlessly carrying around what had to be many metric tons of dead weight. Watching in amazement as the woman finally set the box down, he felt the deck resonating slightly under his feet from the soft impact, now certain that this had to be the weapon, surrounded as was required by more than a foot of pure lead shielding on all sides.
Turning back to look at his crushed men, his eyes met those of his First as he looked back up after examining them. The slow shake of the First's head sent a wave of nausea through Spurling's body—he felt himself getting REALLY sick now. Three good men had been killed and the mission was less than five minutes old. Damn the bad luck. And damn these bloody Arions!
Despite knowing exactly which man was nominally in charge here, Jenine ignored him while standing on the other side of the deck, looking down at the gray expanse of water that stretched out from the ship on all sides. Her racing thoughts were not visible to the men as she finally turned around, following her own agenda as she walked coolly around the deck, her eyes squinting just a bit as she looked curiously at each of the seamen, scanning their bodies up and down as if they were transparent, which of course they were to her. She finally paused to study the bosun, his dark skinned body looking so different from the rest of the men, his physique almost equal to that of an Arion male. Finally, a real man!
While Greg appeared to be the first 'normal' man she had seen, Jenine could hardly know that he was a curiosity among sailors, a serious bodybuilder who crewed on long sea voyages, his heavy weights stored up here on the foredeck. He often competed in amateur contests when in port and between berths, his small cabin nearly filled with trophies from his many wins.
Finally turning away from Greg to speak to the Captain for the first time, Jenine's voice was soft and rich but with a definite accent, an accent that sounded like an insane mix between Russian and French. Accenting her words, she slowly reached up to grab the top of the Captain's shirt, her shoulder barely flexing as she effortlessly lifted the huge man upward until his feet were dangling uselessly a few inches above the deck.
"So, Captain, you disobeyed our instructions in that you don't have the equipment on this deck to handle the weapon as was required of you. In addition, your men obviously can't deal with a little weight themselves, at least if those three men over there were any example. Did you not know that you were to be visited today by an Arion Prime? Did you not know that your life continues only as long as it pleases me to allow it? I should truly kill you now for disobeying our instructions!"
Jenine saw the fear in the man's eyes as she held him high over her head, the little act that she had been told to practice obviously impressing him. Yet she didn't feel nearly as confident as her voice and actions indicated.
This was, after all, her first mission to Earth, her first mission anywhere. And she knew exactly how many of her fellow Primes had already died on this filthy planet, mostly at the hands of those damnable Velorian Protectors.
Glaring at the man as she abruptly set him down, her instructions to make a strong first impression having been properly fulfilled, she turned to gesture toward the weapon.
"So Captain, it seems you would have your guest carry her own cargo; I had thought you Terran men treated your guests, particularly women, better than that. But since I have to do all the work, why don't you at least tell me where you wish me to store this weapon and I will replace the strength of your pitiful men with my own. I will only require one crewman to help me… that one." She gestured towards Greg.
Spurling glared back at the alien woman as he straightened his shirt, her deep brown face and light gray eyes barely visible as her long dark hair blew across them. His mind was still in shock from the violent demise of his men and the effortless way she had lifted him over her head. He had truly felt weightless in her grasp. Momentarily unable to speak, he could only stare stupidly and a bit angrily at the alien woman, part of his shocked mind realizing that she was actually very pretty, the features of her model's face beautiful enough to belong on the cover of Cosmopolitan or some similar place of public honor. Yet the fact that she had just proven to him that she was stronger than perhaps hundreds of men shocked him into silence. Life among his own kind had never prepared him for the wild juxtaposition of awesome power and stunning beauty he saw standing before him. The fact that the girl looked young enough to be his own daughter didn't help matters at all.
The bosun, Greg, reacted more quickly, his understanding and appreciation of physical power having been honed by competing in dozens of bodybuilding contests. He was no stranger to strong women.
Turning back toward the Captain, he asked, "Shall I find a place below decks, Captain? Perhaps where we normally carry the contraband?" Spurling could only nod sourly.
Walking over toward the weapon, he stretched his muscular arms as he prepared to help the woman carry it. Yet after pausing to stare down at the box, he suddenly realized that even his powerful muscles weren't going to be much help. The Russian military markings clearly showing the weight: 3300kg. Nearly four tons of dead weight!
He was still staring in amazement at the box when the woman walked up behind him, her small hand gripping his shoulder very firmly while forcibly turning him around to face her, her right hand reaching out to shake his in the way she had been carefully trained.
"By the way, my name is Jenine, and you are?"
"G… Greg… my name is Greg."
He found he could barely speak, the firm shape of her perfectly round breasts were so visible under her thin T-shirt now as the wind flattened the soft fabric against her body, her small soft hand holding his increasingly firmly, her handshake suddenly becoming painful enough that he couldn't help but wince.
Greg, like the rest of the crew on this filthy coastal freighter, had been hiding out at sea for over two months now, a very long time for these men to be without a woman. As a result, Greg realized that he was not reacting well to being so close now to such an attractive young woman, a woman who was barely more than a girl, her age perhaps eighteen years at best case.
Jenine did not miss his appraising look, watching his eyes hesitate as they traveled from her chest to her arms. Remembering her training about Terran men, Jenine simply took charge once again.
"Well, Greg, I certainly hope you aren't overly intimidated by strong women. I understand that many of you Terran men are. But since you obviously care about your own body, you can at least understand the concept of my strength, even if you could never experience it. In any case, since you Terrans are all so ludicrously weak, I guess I'll have to move this myself. But I could use your guidance when we go down any stairways. I've noticed that the passageways and ladders of your ship are very narrow and steep. Besides, in case I slip, you might be able to help me: you look a lot stronger than the rest of the men on this ship. How much can you lift in this light gravity?"
Greg knew with certainty that he was MUCH stronger than any other man on board, his pride in being able to bench press an incredible 200 kilos was what kept him working out so hard. Yet he had no idea what he was supposed to do with over 3300 kilos!
"Ah, I can dead lift about 270 kilos, press 200 and curl about 85. But I don't think that's going to help you very much with that cargo!" Shrugging his shoulder toward the box, he watched a look of disgust momentarily crossing the young woman's face again as her eyes scanned his muscular body, She was clearly disappointed by the difference between his powerful physique and what he had just described of his actual strength. Shrugging her slight shoulders, she casually reached down to grab the box, smoothly and effortlessly lifting it with both hands. Tossing the four tons across one feminine shoulder as if it was an empty cardboard box, only the soft ripping sound from her pink T-shirt reminded him that the box was vastly heavier than she made it look.
Jenine sighed softly again, disgusted that such a fine looking man was actually so damnably weak, wondering if he would be any help at all when she really needed him. Yet despite her concerns, she casually shrugged her other shoulder at him as she silently pushed him ahead with her free hand, motioning for him to guide her down the steep stairway. Greg scrambled down the ladder ahead of her while she began backing down the steps, his hands guiding her feet since she could not look behind herself with the huge box on her shoulder, holding the railing tightly with her other hand to keep her balance. Opening his hands wide, he surrounded her calves with them, squeezing her tightly as he guided her feet from one step to the next. At the same time, he couldn't help but to marvel at the astounding flex of her beautifully rounded calves as they filled and then expanded his large hands; they were so warm and round, yet at the same time, they were incredibly firm, far firmer than his own muscles. The popping sound of the cotton threads in her jeans confirmed that those rounded calves were straining the fabric whenever she transferred the massive weight from foot to foot, her calves growing larger than he would have believed, the steel steps bending dramatically under the otherworldly stress from her foot.
Meanwhile up on the deck, Captain Spurling stared upward as the long stairway slowly retracted back up into the spacecraft, the alien ship humming so loudly for a brief moment that he had to cover his ears. Forced to his knees as the localized gravity field increased, he was barely able to lift his head upward to see the massive ship soaring upward as if it was weightless. Then, as he stared in amazement, it accelerated almost too fast to track with his naked eye. Only the glowing red trail of ionized air revealed its presence as it raced across the sky at tremendous speed, disappearing behind the distant storm clouds in a matter of seconds!
With his ears ringing, Spurling struggled back to his feet and turned to follow the young alien woman and his bosun down the stairs. His primary concern now was to make sure the weapon was well hidden in case Customs decided to inspect him when he entered port. It would take far more than the usual bribe to explain why he had a Russian nuclear warhead on board his ship: and this one was from a retired SS-9 missile, a ten megaton weapon, the largest missile warhead ever developed!
Meanwhile, Greg was leading Jenine downward through the tight corridors of the ship, walking backward while watching in amazement as she easily shifted four tons of dead weight around to fit it through doorways, her muscles often flexing large enough to remind him of his girlfriend, Gisele. Yet Gisele was a big woman, a pro bodybuilder, her weight forty pounds greater than the woman in front of him. The alien woman had looked so very slim when she had been standing on the deck, yet she was now displaying muscles that would have been judged as being impressive on the stage of any bodybuilding contest!
It didn't take much of a detective to realize that Jenine's muscles were not behaving anything like a Terran woman's. The degree of expansion he was observing had to easily be three or four times greater than any other woman he had seen. Still, the way she could look model slim one moment and pumped up like she was ready for posing a few moments later was beyond his imagination. Yet her incredible strength was hardly an illusion and the powerful flexing of her body was making short work of her overly tight cotton T-shirt and jeans, the seams from both of them now ripping open. Smiling appreciatively, Greg found he was gradually enjoying a better and better view of her perfectly tanned body through the growing rips and tears.
Staring at her arms as she lifted the heavy box around yet another tight corner, her hard-peaked biceps having long ago torn the sleeves of her pink T-shirt apart, he saw that the rounded definition of her baseball-sized biceps was more impressive than he had ever before seen on any woman. She was so strong that the huge box looked as if it weighed maybe 20 or 30 pounds based the way she was slinging it around.
It took nearly half an hour of his guidance and Jenine's muscles, but they finally got the huge weapon four decks down into the ship. Greg was standing behind her now, her body momentarily blocking the narrow corridor ahead of him as she leaned over, shifting the box to balance it on her back. Greg was further astounded as she leaned over and began tearing the half-inch thick deck plates beneath her feet with just her bare hands, her fingernails gouging deep grooves in the hard steel until she could get a grip on it. At the same time, she showed incredible control, balancing the massive weight easily on her shoulder as she lifted plate after plate, eventually creating an entrance to the hiding place Greg had shown her.
By this time, he was hopelessly lost in staring at her cute backside, her knees locked tightly in place, her feet spread outward to press against the walls of the corridor, her body leaning all the way over at the waist as she supported the massive weight with just her strong back. His eyes were drawn further downward to a large tear in the back of her jeans as it opened up to reveal the firm curve of her ass, a momentary yet tantalizing flash of moistness visible between her shapely thighs.
He had heard rumors of these Arion women, everyone had. Stories of their super libidos, stories about how these women sometimes enjoyed making it with Terran males. He hadn't believed any of them. In fact, if it wasn't for SuperFemme and her daughter Xara, the two aliens that were most visible on TV news, he wouldn't even have believed they existed. But if those cute blondes were flying around on Earth, then it wasn't TOO hard to believe that a sister race of theirs also existed. The real problem was to understand what such a super woman would find desirable in a Terran man.
Imagining once again the kind of strength, not to mention the kind of manhood, that would impress such a woman, he suddenly felt more than a little inadequate. Still, a brief image of her strong hand wrapped around his throbbing erection filled his mind while his fantasies were tempered by the reality of those same hands ripping steel deck plates apart as if they were made of wet clay. Yet standing here with just such a super woman, a super girl really, he couldn't help but think that she was enjoying showing herself off just a bit, her big steely grey-blue eyes often turning to catch his as he stared at her. A little smile started to cross her lips whenever she caught him staring between the growing rips in her clothing, that same smile emboldening him such that he began to stare at more than just her amazing muscles.
Partly to give herself more freedom to work on the deckplates, but perhaps also to allow Greg a better view of the increasingly visible expanses of dark skin, she leaned forward to set the box on a particularly well-supported section of the deck before returning to her bare-handed excavations.
Greg was leaning too far forward now, lost in the passion of trying to get a better view of her body as he watched her back muscles flexing, the incredibly tight musculature of her shoulders and upper back revealed through her shredded cotton top. He felt a surge of warmth and arousal, his body responding wonderfully under his sweat pants as he saw her fingers slowly bending the half-inch thick steel plates, making those plates appear as if they were actually made of soft plastic. He felt himself getting very aroused now, her beauty and the awesome raw POWER of her feminine body staggering him as she did things that he had only dreamed any woman could ever do, things that properly belonged only in his wildest fantasies of SuperFemme and her gorgeous daughter Xara, the white teenage girl who could fly, the one who had been featured on CNN so much lately!
The more he watched this woman, however, the more he saw that she was straining, the sweat starting to run down her long arms, her breathing growing much faster and deeper as she suddenly seemed to be working much harder than she had earlier. He was wondering what he could do to help her when a sudden rogue swell nudged the bobbing ship, the motion of the ocean pushing his body forward a bit to lean against hers, his dramatic erection, suddenly unhindered by his loose sweat pants, sliding into one of the tears in her jeans, pressing upward between her firm buttocks!
He felt her firm glutes immediately flexing tightly around him, his hard erection suddenly held in a grip of soft steel as he tried to move backward to correct his mistake. But she wouldn't let go of him, the soft firmness of her cheeks holding him far too strongly for his Terran strength to overcome, her warm yet powerful intimate embrace almost making him cum, his body trapped so wonderfully by this soft/firm/moist yet ever so intimate part of her body.
"So, you've noticed that I'm getting a little tired, haven't you? I guess you're right, my arms are starting to really feel this. I haven't worked this hard for a long time. Would you mind muscle fucking me while I work to bring my strength back up to full power? And don't worry, I'll be careful not to hurt you."
Greg had no idea what she was talking about, her words and accent still sounding strange to him, but the word 'fuck' was pretty clear - he was a sailor after all! Besides, his manhood was already going crazy as it was held so firmly between the warmth of her gorgeously rounded steely buttocks.
He suddenly remembered the wildly athletic lovemaking that he and his girlfriend Gisele had always enjoyed, their little contests of strength often lasting for hours until one of them had finally been overpowered, Gisele often as not the eventual winner. He knew from that experience that he would not need to hold back any of his strength with this woman. Reaching down, he inserted his fingers between her tight cheeks, pulling outward with his full strength until he barely managed to spread them enough to pull himself free. His hands continued downward to tear energetically at the already weakened seams of the fabric, tearing the back of her faded 501's completely open. His own sweatpants were down in a second - blue-water sailors having the least need for foreplay of all men - his manhood sliding between the woman's moist lubricated thighs in seconds, quickly finding the hot moistness of her labia. He held himself firmly in one hand as he guided himself forward, proud that he was far bigger than most men, also surprised and shocked a moment later to find that he could barely spread her nether lips. Shocked that despite his considerable strength and his wildly hard erection, despite the copious fluids emerging to welcome him within, that he lacked the simple strength to enter her!
He didn't let that stop him from stroking himself through the wonderfully firm soft slipperiness of her upper thighs, knowing that the strongest muscles of her remarkable body were now holding him, and holding him tighter than any vagina he had ever felt before. Her wonderful musky fragrance was like the most wonderful perfume, the aroma of a truly aroused woman, a faint scent of honey and flowers also filling the air around him. Inspired by the scent, his body seemingly floating on air, he struggled mightily to enter her, his need becoming almost desperate now. He again found that she was still far too tight for him.
Instinctively reaching down, he slapped her gorgeously tight ass with his full strength, squeezing his fingers into her firm glutes as best he could, the girl's legs suddenly opening wide as he heard the sharp pop and bang of splintering rivets from the walls beside him. The high-pitched scream of over-stressed steel soon filled the corridor, the sound coming from the girl's feet as she spread her legs wide open in response to his obvious need, the steel walls bending outward as she used her powerful legs to open her body to him.
Greg responded by running his hands over the curves of the incredibly smooth skin of her thighs and hips, his fingers tracing the flexing curves of her steel-hard muscles, thrilled by the contrast of the softest skin he had ever felt as it covered muscles that felt for all the world as if they were the result of a master sculpture, a master who worked in warm steel. Tracing inward, her slippery wetness coated his fingers as her copious moisture worked its way well down the inside of her gorgeous dark-skinned thighs. She spread her legs further yet at his silent urging, the thick steel walls of the narrow corridor bulging out more than a foot on each side now, his hands sliding back down to strongly grip her impossibly firm glutes. He was staggered as he saw how the reinforced steel walls of the corridor were no match for the strength of this super girl's legs, that they were no contest either for the strength of her arousal!
She was finally almost doing the splits in mid-air, her long legs deeply imbedded in the mangled steel of the corridor walls, reaching nearly straight out to her sides, her nearly gushing love canal now opened wide enough to allow a Terran man such as himself easy access. His strong body did not fail either of them this time as he thrust his pride and joy strongly forward, Jenine's soft cries of pleasure encouraging and exciting him as he stroked his throbbing manhood deeper and deeper into the tightest vagina he had ever known!
At the same time, his hands slid upward, moving under the remnants of her torn T-shirt, his fingers gently tracing upward across her perfectly flat stomach, his hands opening to cup her firmly rounded breasts. Her nipples shocked him with their size as his fingers traced across them, even as they astounded him with their hardness. This woman indeed was a stranger to his race, a super girl just like that blonde named Kara'Lynn that he had seen on TV so often.
Old fantasies of Kara, of SuperFemme, suddenly filled his mind, his wonderment at having once seen a picture of her in a somewhat delicate moment, her image captured by an astute paparazzi while her thoughts had clearly been drifting during a photo session, her body apparently following her thoughts. That image thrilled him even now as his fingers traced over the equally large nipples of a girl who was perhaps the equal of SuperFemme, his hands holding nothing back now as he showed her the true strength of a strong Terran's hands, a bodybuilder's hands. Her soft sighs continued to encourage him as he held her the way he had always imagined SuperFemme would want him to.
"Oh, God...yes… that's so nice, Greg. Hold me tighter yet; show me that I chose you well. Show me ALL of your strength!"
With that encouragement, Greg put every toned muscle in his powerful body to good use, her sex getting wetter and tighter as he used his powerful pelvic muscles to thrust himself into her to the hilt, all twelve inches of his manhood, his huge muscles flexing as if in his hardest workout. His orgasm immediately rushed out to envelop him as her sex suddenly held him almost too tightly for him to move, her own body shaking violently as he saw her hands ripping the steel floor apart once again as if it were merely tissue paper. The sight of her small powerful hands working the heavy steel, her muscles flexing so fluidly and so sexily under his hands, combined with the wonderful soft tightness of her vagina… it was all too much for him, and his body responded overwhelmingly, his orgasm suddenly exploding inside her.
Jenine had sensed the man's impending release. Despite her young age, she was experienced enough to discern that Terran men were not that much different from Arion men in that regard. Biting her lip in concentration, she worked to prolong him, holding him even tighter by constricting her labial muscles around the base of his manhood, using strength that had no analog in a human woman. Her normally soft love petals were now impossibly firm; gripping him so tightly that it was impossible for him to cum until she wished him to. Her uniquely intimate embrace, the embrace of a true super girl, worked to prolong the peak of his wild orgasm until his need was almost painful, his strong body finally overcoming even her tightness as he cried out in pleasure and pain, his hands lifting and squeezing her tits with unrestrained strength, his powerful arms and back lifting her body from the floor as he thrust himself into her with the strength of his powerful arms and back. Smiling to herself, Jenine felt him exploding so hotly inside her, the super-sensitive nerves of her vagina letting her enjoy every curve and ripple of his manhood. Perhaps it wasn't going to be as lonely here on Earth as she'd first feared!
It was several minutes later before Greg was able to think clearly again, finally feeling Jenine's body relaxing a bit. Yet her legs still dangled above the floor, her hand slowly reaching back to shove him away so hard that he landed on his ass five feet down the corridor. He saw her own strong fingers now replacing his manhood, her hands moving so fast and so powerfully that they seemed to blur, first one and then three fingers disappearing so deeply between her nether lips, the back of her legs turning to sculptured steel as the steel walls groaned again, her high pitched cries growing much louder as they echoed down the corridor. The steel deck heaved beneath him as this super girl finally found her own satisfaction, pulling her legs from the distorted steel of the walls as she collapsed forward onto her knees, legs spread to the side, leaning forward to place her forehead against the floor, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, her fingers now moving too fast to see, a small reddish glow lighting up the inside of her shiny moist inner thighs!
It was nearly five awesome minutes later before Jenine finally climaxed for the last time, her powerful orgasms having surged again and again as Greg had begun to wonder if she was truly insatiable, her small powerful body shaking the entire ship like a leaf in the wind. Finally turning her head around, her moist tousled hair stuck to her sweaty face, her ruined T-shirt now merely sweat-soaked strips, she gave him a faint smile of thanks.
Walking forward, he knelt beside her again, embracing her as she turned her head toward his, his fingers moving her long wet hair to the side as they shared a kiss, an Arion Prime and a human man, impossibly finding that they could share their sexuality in this way.
"God, you made me feel so STRONG again, Greg. I'm sorry I had to push you away, babe, you were incredible. All by yourself, you drove me to the very brink of orgasm, and when I'm cumming I don't have enough control over myself and I didn't want to hurt you. And look what you've done for my strength!"
With that comment, she flexed her amazing right arm, a round ball of steel rising upward that was nearly as large as a softball. Reaching down to apply her hands to the steel once again, the deck plates yielded to her renewed strength as if they were made of the thinnest plastic, her hands moving easily and freely again, her strength obviously restored by their little encounter.
Captain Spurling stood in the darkness at the end of the corridor behind the two of them. He had been there since the start, watching his bosun's amazing sexual display, then watching the alien woman pleasuring herself with such power that he had seriously feared for the structural integrity of his ship. He was now shocked and incredibly aroused, the smell of flowers and sex wafting along the corridor to fill his senses, his body almost out of control as he breathed the sweet nectar. He finally saw the young girl's body flexing so powerfully again as she worked on the deck plates, her sweat-soaked clothing little more than torn rags now, the steel plates of his ship bending noisily up from the floor.
He continued to stare as Greg walked forward to lean against her back again, unaware of his staring eyes, his passionate kisses finding hers, his hands traveling under her T-shirt once again, this time to feel her astounding muscles flexing as they bent and tore the steel, her body flexing so gorgeously, so much like the pictures he had seen of SuperFemme, as she finally created a large enough opening for the weapon.
Finally standing up again and stretching, Greg's hands moved to begin massaging her strong back, his hands caressing her shoulders as she finally bent over to lift the massively heavy weapon once again, his hands feeling her shoulders turning into sculptured steel as she lifted the weight. He hardly dared to breathe as she then slowly lowered it beneath the floor. All the while, his hands continued to caress her nearly bare shoulders, feeling her muscles working at superhuman levels as she quickly bent the thick steel plates back downward to cover the hiding place. She finally paused, the plates all bent back down flush with the floor.
"You need to back up a bit now if you don't want to get burned," she warned Greg as she turned around, the strips of her wet T-shirt parting to frame her firm breasts, her arms pumped up nearly as large as Gisele's when she was preparing for a contest. Pausing for a moment, he reached up tenderly to pull her wet tousled hair from her face once again as his lips softly brushed hers, her soft smile his immediate reward. Lost in her kiss, he didn't notice her eyes moving to meet those of the man standing behind him, his thoughts immersed in the beauty and power of her body. Reluctantly, he released her and backed up a few feet.
Smiling sexily at him, she crossed her arms to lift her torn T-shirt off. Greg was suddenly wildly aroused again as she stood in the corridor, eyes closed, her hands cupping and lifting her gorgeously bare breasts, her hands closing about them as she pressed them so tightly together. He suddenly saw the impossible sight of a blue electric arc as it flashed between her nipples, a soft CRACK filling the air.
Turning around to face away from him, she now crossed her arms behind her head as she stretched backward, then forward. Greg was nearly blinded a moment later as a bright actinic violet glow lit the corridor. Looking down, he was shocked to see the floor in front of her suddenly glowing white-hot, the edges of the steel plates flowing together to form a seamlessly welded floor. Two violet beams from her eyes traveled all along the edges where she had torn the floor apart, welding the steel together. Soon, most of the floor was glowing white-hot, the girl sinking to kneel directly on the white-hot steel, the sweat dripping from her body bursting into little steam clouds as it struck the hot steel. Her hands began to blur as she used them to sand the welds down, making them look old and worn.
Several minutes passed before she was satisfied with her work, reaching outward to sweep some dirt and debris over the spot, rubbing it into the still glowing steel with her hands, making it look like the rest of the floor.
She finally rose back to her feet while brushing the dirt from her hands, turning back around to face Greg, reaching out to embrace him gently while her eyes looked over his shoulder again to meet the man whose eyes she had held before, the longing and lustful eyes of the Captain. She giggled softly in Greg's ear as she stared behind him, the Captain's jaw looking so humorous as it hung open in amazement. She touched her moist lips to Greg's ear, whispering to him.
"Well, I guess I should thank you for the strength you 'gave' me, I hope I didn't hurt you too much. If you ever decide you'd like to do that again, you know, to make me stronger, just let me know. I can always use the energy, any time you feel up to it. In case you didn't know, we Arions get a lot stronger when we're aroused that way!"
With that incredible offer echoing in his mind, she drew away and quickly pulled her torn T-shirt back on, sliding past him to head down the hallway. Greg was too astounded at her words to even speak. He barely heard her speaking with someone else, inquiring about where she could take a shower. The intimate whispered invitation from this super girl had totally blown his mind, he hardly dared to imagine that she could want him anytime HE was interested! My God, would there ever be a time when he WASN'T interested?
He finally came back to his senses, turning to run after her, responding to the promise of an available woman the way sailors have responded to loose women for centuries. Their long shared shower exhausted his fresh water ration for the entire week, the walls of the shower bent such that the door never did close properly again.
CASABLANCA HARBOR ENTRANCE
The half-day trip to the entrance of the harbor was very eventful for Greg and Jenine, her body seemingly insatiable as she deeply appreciated his increasingly weak yet still enthusiastically erotic attentions. His body was finally totally exhausted and depleted as they came within sight of land. At the same time, she was approaching the peak of her own strength, the exhaustion of his body contrasting with the bubbling energy of hers.
During all this time, even while feeling occasional vibrations coming from deep inside his ship, Spurling had paced the bridge, staring over the horizon toward his destination. He was very nervous, worried about the lack of the usual radio traffic from Casablanca to other ships as they approached the harbor entrance. They finally approached the harbor entrance, the gunboats visible as always, patrolling just inside the harbor entrance, his lookouts carefully describing their movements. He was still trying to convince himself that they would see him as just another tramp steamer coming in to pick up a cargo. Unfortunately, he was not having much success convincing even himself. Something was wrong here!
He finally went to the rear of the bridge and radioed the harbormaster, requesting and receiving a routine berthing assignment. He felt a little better when that dialog seemed to proceed normally. Maybe it was just his nerves acting up. Feeling more confident, he radioed for a pilot to meet them at the marker.
However, when he turned back around and lifted his heavy glasses to his eyes, he was shocked to see that the gunboats had moved closer toward them. They were now outside the harbor entrance, his path nearly blocked by the two of them, their deck guns uncharacteristically trained on his ship. The First Mate was also staring at them through his glasses, reporting in an excited voice that there were unusually large crews on the decks of both gunboats, many of them dressed in American-style clothing, not the military uniforms or Arabic dress common to this area.
"Captain, they are definitely waiting for us," the First finally said flatly. "There are a LOT of extra people on those two boats. They must know what we have on board. But how, unless they can read minds? We were definitely outside radar coverage at the time of the transfer!"
"Well, we can't run for it, that's for sure." Spurling said in disgust. "Those gunboats are a lot faster than we are."
He quickly considered several dangerous actions, including ramming through them while sailing into the harbor at full steam, when a sudden wild thought came to him. Turning to look out the window, he watched Greg talking with the alien woman, her appearance so scandalous for this conservative part of the world. Very little of her torn and ragged clothing still covered her, in fact one breast was mostly visible to him even now as she leaned forward over the rail. Taking a deep breath, he walked outside the bridge cabin to call down to them.
"Greg, would you bring your young girlfriend up here? Maybe she can help. I'm afraid the federales here are definitely on to us!"
Upon hearing the Captain's urgent request, Jenine nearly floated up the stairs, Greg struggling to keep up with her, her young body seemingly ready for anything, his body nearly exhausted from her unceasingly intimate demands. The girl had proven to be insatiable.
Spurling quickly pointed out the problem to her, her sparkling gray eyes narrowing for a moment as she stared at the two gunboats blocking the harbor entrance about 600 yards ahead of them. Turning her body gently in another direction, he also pointed out the aging ex-Soviet jet bomber that was now circling around far behind them, the aircraft apparently trying to cover their line of retreat. Jenine's clear eyes took it all in, her combat training making her next actions clear and decisive.
"Ok, Captain, it looks like I'm going to have to sink or disable the gunboats. Do you have anything on board that can take out that aircraft while I handle those ships?"
Spurling shook his head. "Can't do it. We're completely unarmed except for rifles and small arms. It would have been too suspicious if we had taken any heavy weapons on board at our last port."
He paused. "And even if we could handle the bomber, how are YOU going to sink two armored ships? With your bare hands?"
She lifted her strong-looking hands in response, his eyes drawn to the steely tendons of her wrists and the backs of her hands as she opened and closed them.
"Yes, with these very hands, Captain, with just my bare hands and my eyes. They are the only weapons I will EVER need to fight Terrans!"
With that, she moved back a few steps before turning to face all of the men on the bridge. Every eye stared at her as she crossed her arms across her chest, her hands ripping slowly downward to remove the remains of her T-shirt, her bright gray eyes holding the Captain's as she suddenly stood nearly naked in front of him and his entire bridge crew. Her only remaining clothing were the criss-crosses of two strips of narrow black fabric, barely sufficient to cover her inhumanly large nipples.
She slowly stretched her arms and legs, bending away from them to flex her back from side to side, her body rippling and flexing in completely impossible ways. Yet the promise of her immensely strong muscles were still only hinted at beneath her smoothly tanned skin, her true powers about to be released in combat. Every eye was fixed upon the gorgeous super girl as she stood nearly nude among them, her young nubile body literally glowing with power, her exotic appearance wildly contrasting with the dingy and dirty look of the hardened terrorists who surrounded her.
She finally turned to give Greg a little kiss and hug before walking rapidly from the bridge, his hand momentarily caressing a soft breast as she slipped past him. She didn't hesitate for even a split second as she leaped over the bridge rail, the fifty foot fall to the water seemingly of no concern to her, her athletically slim body slicing through the water's surface while barely leaving a ripple.
Everything was quiet for nearly three minutes after that. The men on the bridge too shocked and too aroused to even talk to each other, yet not one of them had the slightest idea what this alien woman was up to. Then, suddenly, one of the men cried out in rapid-fire Arabic, pointing excitedly at the closest gunboat. All eyes followed his to see the water around the hull boiling upward as massive bubbles of air erupted on the surface. They suddenly heard the distant but still frightening sound of the ship's collision alarms!
Jenine had covered the 600 yards to the nearest gunship in only a few minutes, staying under water the entire way while scanning the armored hull with her remarkable eyes, looking for the most vital spot, the one directly beneath the main engine room. Swimming deeply beneath the ship's hull, she began scratching her fingernails against the rough barnacled steel plates until she could get a proper purchase on one of them, eventually working her fingers deeply into a weld as she began to tear the massive plate loose. The water suddenly began rushing eagerly inward toward the engines, a riot of huge bubbles rising along the sloped hull at the same time. The muted sound of watertight doors closing rang throughout the hull as they were slammed shut, the well-trained crew working fast to contain the unexpected flooding.
But Jenine wasn't going to give them the opportunity to save their ship. Twisting her petite body to the side, she began to work her way up the side of the ship, the awesome grip of her fingers peeling back a 3-foot wide strip of hull plates as she moved upward, the inch-thick steel bending and tearing apart in her immensely strong hands. Alarm bells were ringing all over the ship as she finished tearing the hull apart and popped her head above the surface. Swimming alongside at fifteen knots, pacing the ship, she saw that it was turning to head toward the rocky shore. She suddenly realized that the Captain was going to try to ground the ship. That could possibly leave their deck armament in working order, something that would not do at all!
The remaining steam in the ship's ancient boilers had been committed to its final use as the single huge screw began to cavitate in the water, the ship now at the best speed its flooded engines could provide. Jenine knew that she had only one way to stop this ship, she had to stop the propulsion. Taking another deep breath, she dove downward, swimming up behind the ship like a homing torpedo, her body tossed around by the cavitation of the huge screw. She finally reached the massive spinning blades, reaching forward to grab the swirling bronze with her hands, her body instantly joining the screw in its rapid rotation. She knew that she had no hope of stopping the screw, for unlike the Velorians, she had no flying powers with which to anchor herself. But she was an Arion, and she quickly formed her own unique plan for how to remove the propulsion from this ship.
Wrapping her long legs around the center of the screw, she squeezed her arms and legs inexorably closed, the soft bronze of the propeller giving way easily beneath her Arion strength. Muscles of a young woman born on a distant star now flexed without restraint as the massive blades distorted in her arms, their ability to propel the ship diminishing rapidly as she changed the pitch of each blade, bending the massive blades inward. The screw began to vibrate more and more as she twisted each blade, her efforts stopping only when they were all feathered, twenty tons of bronze now spinning around uselessly, thrashing and cavitating in the water as the ship tilted more and more to the side.
Letting go of the twisted mass of bronze that used to be a ship's screw, she swam back to the surface just as the ship finally capsized and began to sink.
Stroking powerfully towards shore, she was just starting to climb up on the huge rocks when she heard a loud BOOM from a shore battery firing on the other side of the harbor. A huge plume of water rose beside the old cargo ship as it suddenly began to turn around in the wide channel. Squinting her eyes in sudden anger, two reddish beams tore through the air like angry laser beams, the distant gun emplacement instantly erupting into a mass of sparks as her alien energies heated the gun's armor.
Yet despite such a superpowered assault, the gun fired again, the resulting plume of water even closer to her ship this time. Realizing that her eyes didn't have enough power to damage such an armored weapon from this distance, she blinked them back to normal vision and looked around herself for some kind of weapon. The only things that looked even vaguely useful were the huge blocks of granite piled along the shore.
Quickly tearing the tiny top of her black swimsuit off, knowing that she always felt strongest when her breasts were completely bared, she reached behind herself to grab one of the huge boulders. Lifting it behind her back with her right arm, bicep bulging, she turned to stare right at a man who suddenly appeared. He pointed a camera at her, a soft whir coming from the device as he began to furiously snap her picture again and again.
Unconcerned about what this Terran thought or what images he captured of her, she leaned backward and then thrust her arms upward with incredible power, her petite body a maze of flexing muscles as she performed what should have been an impossible feat even for an Arion Prime. She threw ten tons of granite upward into the air with such force that it sucked the photographer from his feet, his camera landing on the rocks as the rapid flight of the boulder sucked his body along a hundred yards behind it to splash into the harbor.
Jenine watched in satisfaction as the huge boulder flew true, traveling more than a half mile upward, arcing across the bay to finally land directly on top of the gun emplacement, its arrival greeted by a massive explosion. Feeling smugly satisfied with her accurate aim, she flexed her calves to propel her body into a surface dive out into the waters of the bay, her powerful legs carrying her nearly two hundred yards through the air before she slipped beneath the surface. Gliding underwater for another hundred feet, she finally rose back up to take a look around and to get her bearings again.
She had just reached the surface when she was greeted with another loud boom, the four-inch deck gun on the second ship firing this time, a bright burst indicating a direct hit on the side of her own vessel. She was quickly alarmed as she saw the barrel slowly tracking to the left, knowing immediately that the next round would hit the ship's bridge, the very place her super vision suddenly told her that Greg was standing. Gasping in anger, not wanting to lose such a capable lover as Greg had proven to be, she began furiously kicking her legs, swimming with her arms and legs, her speed through the water rapidly accelerating to nearly a hundred knots, her body developing enough momentum to finally 'fly' upward when she reached the gunboat, her feet landing just outside the bow.
Swinging herself lithely over the rail, she dashed forward desperately to throw her nude body between the smoking gun barrel and her ship, blocking the shot at the last possible moment. Her small body disappeared in the cloud of smoke and fire that belched from the barrel as the cannon fired for the second time.
The immense impact slammed into Jenine's stomach, the four-inch shell throwing her body more than five hundred yards up into the air. She tumbled out of control, end over end. Gritting her teeth, she forced her attention away from the sharp pain in her stomach and began flailing the air with her arms, trying to guide her fall back toward the water, wishing for the hundredth time that she had the flying powers of a Velorian or Kryptonian woman. She finally splashed awkwardly into the water, sinking deeply beneath the surface as she began to kick with all her strength, the water surging around her long legs and arms, her body accelerating to more than one hundred knots once again as she swam back toward the gunboat. Exploding through the surface of the water, she soared upward from the rippled surface of the bay, her momentum carrying her high enough to land on her bare feet in the middle of the gun deck.
She saw the gun trainer's arm moving downward once again, already commanding the next shot. Her legs blurred as she accelerated across the deck, her body moving almost too fast to see, quickly thrusting her body toward the end of the gun once again. This time she arrived before the shot was fired and slammed herself against the open end of the barrel, her left breast sliding partially inside it, the hot steel gripping her as she 'screwed' her soft chest deeply into the sharp rifling. She dug her fingers into the steel barrel at the same time, determined to hang on during the violent explosion she knew was coming.
She didn't have to wait long, an immense blast of heat and a violent impact crashed against her chest when the gun fired, the armor-piercing shell racing down the barrel to impact directly against the invulnerable softness of this super girl's left breast, dimpling her lovely flesh inward until racing steel met the impossible firmness of the muscles that lay beneath it. Arion physiology quickly proved to be stronger than Terran weaponry, Jenine's full breast proving to be more indestructible than even a Navy cannon. The high-explosive shell burst against it, all the energy forced inward against the barrel, her breast screwed far too tightly into the rifling to be removed. Still, those massive energies had to go somewhere, and that somewhere was not going to be through the chest of this alien femme.
Instead, the breach at the other end of the cannon shattered, exploding open, the flying shrapnel killing the gun crew outright and sweeping their bodies from the deck, several additional propellant charges setting off a secondary explosion that killed most of the remaining people on the gun deck.
In spite of her Arion physiology, Jenine cried out in pain, her breast tightly jammed into the rifling, her upper body glowing red-hot. The massive steel barrel started to bend upward as she flexed her body in an effort to relieve the pain, the three-inch thick gunmetal squealing and distorting from the simple yet powerful forces being exerted on it by her chest and arms. The gun barrel was soon twisted sharply upward as Jenine finally pulling herself from it, one hand massaging her aching breast as she wiped the powder and shattered metal shards from her chest. Despite the pain, she was pleased to see that her soft skin bore only a few red marks, the weak Terran weapon having failed to truly injure her. The rapidly healing bruise on her breast was the only true discomfort she had sustained.
Suddenly remembering the second gun, Jenine ran quickly across the deck to wrap her arms around the barrel, squeezing her arms tightly to her chest as the hard steel of the gun slowly collapsed against her body, the barrel squashing and deforming as it was pressed with nearly immeasurable power into the deep cleavage between her breasts, the flattened barrel rendering the gun instantly useless.
Relaxing a bit now, she dropped down to land cat-like on the steel gundeck. Turning to face the bridge, she suddenly felt little stings all across the front of her body, her head thrown violently backward as those stings moved up across her eyes, forcing her to close them instinctively. The unpleasant stinging continued as she forced her eyes back open, ignoring the impacts striking her eyeballs, suddenly realizing that she was being attacked by small arms fire. Feeling a surge of anger, her gray eyes blazed with the heat of a distant sun, her hands holding her breasts tightly once again to help her generate her powers. She lashed out angrily with her heat vision, two hellish beams instantly incinerating everyone on the upper decks of the ship.
An oily cloud of gray smoke that had recently been a small army of men rose slowly from the ship, the metal railings and stairways of the ship sagging under their own weight as they glowed cherry-red from the massive release of energy.
Satisfied that the small arms nuisance had been permanently removed, Jenine now turned to grab the gun mount, the steel groaning horribly as her nude body exploded once again into a maze of tight hard muscles, the gun mount reluctantly and noisily tearing loose from the deck. The men on the highest deck level, the bridge, stared down in disbelief as this young indecent looking woman, barely five-foot-four in height and bare from the waist up, lifted the five-ton gun mount over her shoulders, her eyes meeting theirs as she smiled so warmly at them.
Then, before they could react, she casually tossed the massive gun and its mount upward, her sweet smile greeting each of them, one of the men instinctively waving back at her as she dropped down into the gaping hole she had created in the deck. His smile suddenly turned to a look of terror as the sky darkened above him, his eyes looking upward a scant second before the massive gun mount landed directly on top of the bridge.
Jenine began working her way deeply into the armored ship, tearing her way through two more thick walls, her fingernails digging through the steel like it was mere modeling clay. It took her little time to reach her goal - the armory of the ship. Ripping open the door with her powerful arms, the tortured steel screamed so loudly that the two frightened sailors who worked in the armory had to cover their damaged ears, both of them backing away from the mangled door. They were shocked as a nude woman stepped through the doorway; her gorgeous body the last thing they had expected to see!
Jenine smiled reassuringly at both of them, her real intentions the opposite of what her cutely dimpled smile promised. Looking around herself briefly, she reached down to grab two of the four-inch shells, her strong fingers tearing the steel casings open before she poured out the explosive, a cloud of it pasting itself to her wet bare skin while most of it piled up on the floor. She opened another dozen shells the same way, the powder piling up over her ankles, her hands smearing it across her moist body. She was now feeling both incredibly strong and incredibly horny at the same time. Somehow, this unrestrained use of her powers was making her buzz, the body rush almost more than she could contain.
Picking up yet another of the four-inch shells, she suddenly had a wildly insane thought, noticing how much it resembled the approximate size of her lover back on Aria, the man she had promised to marry when she returned. A wild longing filled her, the memories of the last night they had spent together, when they had made love in the dark on the soft moist grass outside her military barracks, their bodies so in tune with each other, their strengths complimenting their bodies as they had made love until the sun rose the next morning.
Subsequently, the spaceflight to Earth had been long and lonely. Jenine had been the only Prime on the old cargo ship, the regular crew being a downtrodden and resentful bunch of Betas, their primary mission seemingly that of making her as unhappy and lonely as they were.
Yet despite the loneliness of a long spaceflight, the stratification of Arion society clearly prevented a young Prime female like herself from seeking comfort in the arms of a male Beta, although it was not unheard of for a male Prime to seduce a particularly cute Beta female during such a voyage. However, such liaisons did not last long. A Beta female's physique, while significantly tougher and stronger than any Terran's, was still no match for the passionate attentions of a fully aroused Arion Prime male.
Bringing her thoughts back to the present, she gave the terrified men one additional reassuring smile as she inserted a fuse to arm the shell that she was absently holding, her thoughts drifting softly as she remembered what she had left behind. Remembering the explosive ejaculations of her Prime lover. Unfortunately, neither of the men realized that her smile was simply there to reassure them that they wouldn't feel a thing when they were blasted to bits.
Leaning back against a table, she closed her eyes as she gently stroked the live explosive shell down her body, tracing it through the deep cleavage of her young breasts, thinking of her lover so far away, remembering the immense power of his body, of his manhood, of the awesome power of his unleashed passion. Such thoughts swirled through this lonely woman's head, her seduction of the human male back on the ship having increased both her energy and her nearly constant state of arousal. His enthusiasms had definitely entertained her, but he most certainly had not satisfied her.
Tracing the rounded steel shell down over the perfect flatness of her stomach, she began to ease her legs apart, the cold steel in her hands moving closer to her sex, her longing forcing her onward. She knew the two unworthy Terran men were staring at her in lust, but it didn't matter, she was too lost in her own passion, a sensual body rush coming on, her thoughts only of her lover so many light-years away. Squeaking with unrestrained pleasure at her memories of their final wild lovemaking, she scooted herself up to sit on the metal table, her strong hands guiding the warm steel of the shell between her thighs, stroking it lovingly as if it was attached to her lover. She was suddenly so wet that her fragrant fluids pooled between her parted thighs on the table, her sex literally gushing with desire and longing, her mind now back on Aria, visualizing her lover standing before her, his powerful manhood pressing forward with Prime strength, his steel opening her flower. She began to cry out with joy as the pointed tip of the shell began to ease her nether lips open the same way, the slippery wetness guiding it inward, her body seemingly drawing it into herself. Her sex spread wide, the four-inch diameter of the shell still well within the limits of a woman whose ancestors were Velorians, women who were capable of mating even with the Gods!
Her strong arms began to move back and forth, simulating the feel of her distant lover, imagining it was his manhood that was now pleasing her. She threw her head backward and closed her eyes as she pictured his face before her, his curly black hair and ever-present smile warming her. She threw her long raven hair over her back, her cries of pleasure coming faster and faster now, most of the long shell disappearing into her petite yet powerful body. The wild tingling came faster and hotter now, her hands moving faster and faster, her body slipping out of her control, her thoughts desiring only the pleasure of her imagined lover. Arching her back, she pushed her breasts upward as her nipples exploded into a wild fire of arousal, her hands pressing inward on the powerful dildo now with far too much strength. Finally, her climax was upon her, her screams bursting the eardrums of the men sharing the tiny compartment, her powerful exertions shaking the entire ship, her right hand smashing against the end of the shell in her passion.
Frantically grabbing another shell, she squeezed it against the first one, her thighs closing un-gently around both of them. Looking up through her tousled black hair at the last moment, she held one Terran man's eyes with hers, feeling herself getting really aroused from what she knew was about to happen. He was only a Terran, yet the wildly aroused, pained and terrified look on his face thrilled her, it made her nipples grow harder and harder. The softness of her chest now disappeared completely as her steely muscles flexed more strongly, the power of her normally feminine breasts finally eclipsing the hardness of even steel as she leaned further forward, compressing the second shell between her rounded breast, her steely nipple exerting itself against the fuse, her awesome thighs gripping it. Reaching down with her arms, she grabbed her knees while reveling in the erotic sensations of her flesh, her hard nipple now approaching diamond hardness, the steely muscles underlying her breasts now working so hard. She suddenly flexed her gorgeous biceps to their full size, that immense power drawing her downward as she held her knees, her taut nipple suddenly exerting many thousands of pounds of force against the detonator of the trapped shell, the first shell still inserted so deeply inside her, the detonator of that shell smashing up against her cervix with equal power. The world suddenly turned to whiteness around Jenine as her screams were lost in the violent explosion of an entire warship's arsenal!
Captain Spurling had watched in fascination as the first gunboat had sunk, the long rip the girl had made in the side having defeated the system of watertight doors. It was only minutes later when two shells plumed the water dangerously near his own ship, establishing the range from the shore battery. Turning the ship frantically, he waited for the next salvo, hoping he could change course rapidly enough.
Yet just before the shore emplacement was expected to fire again, it had inexplicably exploded. The shore battery was still exploding when he was knocked from his feet by a direct hit from the remaining gunboat, the shell striking just a few feet above the waterline. At least he knew what to do about that. He ordered a crew of welders over the side to perform an emergency repair.
At the same time, he watched a brief flurry of activity aboard the only remaining gunboat in the harbor, a small explosion visible on deck, and then a long period of quiet. He had no explanation for ANY of that. He was still staring at the ship when his eyes were dazzled by a tremendous blast, the entire ship disappearing in a white flash, pieces of torn metal raining down all over the harbor. Gasping in shock, he knew that the gungoat's magazine had exploded so deeply inside the ship. It must have been the Arion woman once again!
He felt a wild joy, despite having no idea if she could have survived the explosion. He didn't care any more. Screaming with wild enthusiasm, he called to his crew, ordering the helm back to starboard, toward the center of the harbor. The entrance to the docking quay was now open to him, the threats removed. He was supremely confident that the small arms hidden on his ship and his well-trained and fanatical crew would be easily able to handle the local police force.
He gave his orders. "Forward one-third, steer for the channel entrance. Casablanca is OPEN to us!"
A cheer rose from every corner of the ship, the men's joy at unexpectedly defeating two armored gunboats overwhelming them - everyone that is but Greg. He was worried, not knowing how invulnerable Jenine really was nor what had happened to her in the violent explosion of the second gunboat. He somehow knew that she must have been right in the middle of that explosion. Fortunately, for the sake of his Terran ego, he would never have suspected that the explosion was instead right in the middle of Jenine!
As Greg was worrying about her safety, Jenine was tumbling high over their heads, her body blown upward nearly a mile into the blue sky, her inner thighs tingling wildly, almost painfully, from the sudden explosion that had occurred at the peak of her own climax. It had been an incredible blow, far more powerful than she had expected, even more powerful than the violent conclusions to the lovemaking that she remembered so clearly with her distant lover. In fact, it was so powerful that she was momentarily disoriented, the explosion that had begun so intimately inside her had been the sharpest and strongest she had ever felt. A burning pain filled her sex, and her head was dizzy and spinning as she tried to look down at herself, suddenly afraid that she had been injured. If she hadn't been so strengthened by her wild arousal, she knew she would probably be dead right now!
Looking down, she was startled to see that her body was glowing white-hot, the glow concentrated between her thighs, yet reaching all the way upward to her shoulders, the force of the internal explosion having been turned to heat when it had proven unable to damage her soft yet invulnerable skin. Yet the painful burning that came from deep inside her sex proved that she was a bit more vulnerable to Terran technology than she had first thought. But God, what a RUSH that had been!
The dizziness continued to wash over her in several waves as she plummeted toward the water, the afterglow of her literally 'explosive' orgasm still making her body shake violently, her sex still tingling with wild tremors as her body finally smashed into the water. Fortunately, the shock of the cold water cleared her head, a cloud of superheated steam boiling around her for a moment as her skin cooled rapidly. She finally squinted her eyes to tune them into the Tachyon spectrum; her amazing vision peering through a mile of dirty harbor water to see the hull of the cargo ship as it steamed rapidly toward the harbor entrance. She began to swim toward it, soon topping ninety knots once again, a rooster tail racing across the surface as she shot across the bay, the plume rising into the air to mark her rapid progress toward the ship.
Reaching the ship, she leaped up to cling to the hull like a spider, her fingernails rending the steel, slowly climbing the vertical steel plates thirty feet straight up before landing lithely on her feet back on the bridge. Everyone's eyes turned to stare at her in amazement as she grinned back at them, so proud of her performance in her first Terran combat. She had defeated both of the gunboats in less than ten minutes. And she had done it with her bare hands, her eyes, and the power contained between her beautiful thighs!
Despite her failed attempt to satisfy herself, her body was still tingling pleasantly, a feeling of incredible power spreading outward from her chest, her nipples still so very erect. Smiling, she basked in the lecherous stares she was receiving from the men. She was the clear center of attention, everyone staring at her wet nude body, very aware of her engorged nipples, aware that the wetness between her legs was much more than simple sea water. As she had found earlier when exercising in the Gravimetic chambers on the ship, using her body to the max like this turned her on so completely!
For their part, this band of warrior wannabes had just learned that Terran military hardware was no match against the raw muscular strength of this gorgeous Arion woman. Many a prayer went to Allah to praise the fact that she was on THEIR side. With her, they could do almost anything. They were unstoppable!
The men silently appreciated their companion for several minutes as she stood proud and naked in their midst, many a fantasy lurking in the backs of their minds as their eyes met hers, most of them trying to figure out what to say to a totally unveiled woman who had just sunk two ships of war with her naked body. Yet they were all silent. Most of these men were of Arabic descent and the role of women in their culture was radically different from the role that Jenine was fulfilling in their team now. Their confusion was increased to the point where they seemed to have lost their wits, the contrast between her incredible strength and her immodest attire, or rather the lack of any attire, shocking them to silence!
The awkward silence on the bridge was suddenly interrupted when Greg ran excitedly through the open door, his eyes opening wide with surprise and delight to see his new friend standing there. Like the other men, he was shocked by her appearance, her body somehow stronger looking than ever before, her muscles still pumped up, her face so confident. It took him a few seconds to remember the reason he had dashed onto the bridge.
"Ah, Jenine! Wow… I didn't expect you back so soon!"
Turning to the side, he saw Spurling in a shadow at the back of the bridge. "Captain, we're in deep shit, that fucking bomber is heading our way, setting up for what looks like an attack run on us!"
All eyes turned to follow his pointing arm, all except Jenine. Nestling her warm body against his, she simply allowed him to guide her outside, acting as if there was no threat, no danger. Glancing casually upward toward the bomber, her body remained relaxed and calm as she melted her soft bare curves against his body. Turning to stare at her, he saw her squinting into the sun for a moment, her remarkable eyes obviously seeing far more than his. His concern was rewarded a moment later with a sudden stiffening of her body, her confident look turning to one of smoldering anger.
Releasing his hand, she quickly reached down to tear a ragged piece of steel from the deck plates with her bare hands, the metal screaming in protest. Staring at her in amazement, Greg watched as she shaped the steel like someone might shape a soft snowball, the tendons on the backs of her hands standing out like steel cables as her muscles flexed surprisingly large. The steel groaned softly in protest, her pert breasts pointing upward as she squeezed and shaped the metal so effortlessly.
She finally leaned backward a bit, her arm blurring into motion as she threw the first steel snowball at the aircraft, the range now little more than a mile. There was a funny crackling sound as a red streak of half-molten metal raced upward from the ship, the steel glowing and melting from the air friction, the long trail looking like a small missile as it arced toward the aircraft. She almost hit the cockpit on her first try, the red streak missing the nose of the aircraft by less than ten feet!
Jenine now started moving almost too fast to see as she ripped another ten pound chunk of steel from the corner of the bridge, quickly shaping it in the same fashion. She wound her arm up again, throwing it upward at hypersonic speed, the red arc moving toward the speeding jet. This one flew true, her judgment of how much to lead the aircraft exactly correct this time, a bright explosion of sparks shooting out from the nose of the aircraft as the bright red streak intersected it. Everyone above decks watched as the jet's wings wobbled wildly, one wing finally dropping as the huge bomber skidded into a wide uncontrolled turn.
Greg felt Jenine's arm reaching around his waist to hold him close once again, and he turned to stare in disbelief as this gorgeous super girl snuggled her soft moist body against his, her head leaning so softly on his shoulder. Turning his head slightly, he saw her squinting her eyes once again, tiny wrinkles at the corners indicating that she was straining. At the same time, he saw two faint narrow violet beams lancing out from her clear eyes to strike the bottom of the jet bomber; a rainbow of reflected light bouncing from the polished aluminum.
At the same time, a shout of dismay went up from the bridge as the aircraft slowly completed its turn and headed back toward the ship, bomb bay doors now visibly open as it resumed its bomb run. Greg felt Jenine's body stiffen while she watched it, both of them realizing that the threat had not been removed. Slowly lifting her head from his shoulder, he stared in disbelief as her hands reached up to hold her breasts again, the tendons on the back of her hands standing up much as they had when she had formed the steel into those glowing 'snowballs'. Yet it was only her soft flesh that she held this time, a glow lighting her hands from inside as bluish arcs seemed to jump between her protruding nipples. He saw her massaging herself more and more firmly, her arms exploding in steely curves. Stepping away from her, he stared in disbelief as her eyes opened wider, the violet beams radiating from her eyes suddenly turning to deep red. Snapping his head to the side, he followed the twin beams upward toward the bomber.
His eyes had barely had time to re-focus on the bomber when sparks began flying from the leading edges of the approaching aircraft, the distance now only a half-mile and closing fast. He watched as Jenine shifted the beams from her remarkable eyes to the wing-mounted engines of the jet bomber, her intense focus quickly rewarded as the leading edges of the wing and the engines suddenly blazed white-hot, chunks of glowing metal tearing loose to fly inside the engine intakes. The engines immediately exploded, fire spreading along the wing until the entire plane broke apart in a series of smaller explosions. Trailing a plume of greasy black smoke, it arced down to the surface, finally exploding across the surface of the ocean only two hundred yards from the ship.
Greg was shocked, not only from the violent crash but from Jenine's sudden reaction, her long arms wrapping around his neck, her kisses urgently seeking his, her beautiful gray eyes now passionate as they met his own. His hands instinctively reached down to hold her rounded buttocks, her breasts so very warm and firm against his chest, her legs suddenly lifting up to wrap around his waist as her slim body hugged his. He didn't care who was watching him now, his new friend was clearly in need of his manly powers once again. After all, it didn't take a frustrated sailor to know what this girl needed so desperately, what she needed right now. She needed to be loved!
All eyes stared at the two of them as he staggered into the navigation room with the woman's slim body wrapped about his, her small hands bending the narrow steel doorway wide open before reaching behind her to sweep the charts onto the floor. Her soft cries were clearly audible to the rest of the crew as he laid her on the table, her wild kisses traveling all over his face as he felt her urgent arousal and her desperate need to renew her powers once again.
Spurling walked calmly back to the bridge, forcing himself to ignore the two lovers as they trashed his chart room. Yet he was unable to truly retain his composure, crying out with wild joy as he looked across the harbor. His sensitive cargo WAS going to be delivered now. And unlike the fanatical members of the Fatidah on his ship, men whose rewards were destined to be in the arms of Allah, his reward was to be in gold! He knew that the long lost treasure rooms of the ancient kings of Persia were open to these Fatidah!
He sailed proudly and confidently into the harbor, the two sunken gunboats and that crashed bomber had been the only serious defense force at Casablanca. Besides, with this super girl for protection, her outrageous libido notwithstanding, what army could stop them now?
Casablanca was theirs for the taking!!
CHAPTER 2