[Fonk]

Phew! I'd like to see that one, too! 😮

[Fonk]

Mmmmm, she can dance for me anytime! ;D

[Fonk]

Oh no! Poor Dyna – but great writing, Mr. Dimples, sir. ;D I'm hanging on every word.

[Fonk]

Yes… ;D

[Fonk]

That's nice work. ;D

[Fonk]

That's very cute! Thanks for posting!

[Fonk]

That was good stuff. Thanks for taking the time to work on it!

[Fonk]

Happy birthday to her indeed! She's easily one of the most stunning women around.

[Fonk]

More English!

—————–

Marco didn't say anything. They went back to their car. Cleo sat in the passenger seat and they went on their way.

"Come on, don't look like that! Everything's fine!"

"Did you have to kill the truck driver?"

"He had seen something he shouldn't have. It might not be fair, but it was destiny."

"Yes, yes…"

Cleo put her feet back on the dashboard, with her legs spread. She stretched, causing the dashboard to make cracking noises again.

"Mmmm, I'm so horny! The feeling of power I got when his head deformed in between my thighs, it's so good!!!!"

She stroked the insides of her muscular thighs, moving progressively closer to her sex. She ended up stroking herself through her wet G-string. Drunk with power, she contracted her vaginal muscles on the two fingers that she had put into her vagina until it hurt. She knew that she could crush one finger, she'd already done so. She wanted to feel an object, something, anything, fill her sex.

Out of the corner of his eye Marco saw her pull a dildo out of her bag. It must have been twelve inches long, and very thick. Cleo started to caress her vulva with the impossible device. She sighed and thrust the plastic object in with a moan of pleasure. Marco dared not look, but he had Cleo's left foot in his peripheral vision. Her feet were making little somersault movements, stretching the leather to the point of rupture. After several minutes, Cleo emitted a growl, followed by a long, muffled cracking which indicated that the imposing dildo had not been able to resist her pleasure.

"Ohhhh, it's so good!!!!!" she sighed to herself, ejecting three pieces of deformed and sticky plastic from her vagina. "Having said that, we've got some work to do, eh Marco?"

"Er… yes," he said embarrassedly. Cleo rummaged in her bag again and produced a mobile phone.

"Hello, Nefertiti?"

"…"

"Yes, everything's fine, except we had some problems on the motorway. We were followed."

"…"

"No, no, no worries!"

"…"

"Yes! Of course he told me! You know, when girls weighing 135 kilos ask a question, in general, guys weighing 70 kilos prefer to reply!"

"…"

"Well, it's going to sound incredible… Tinguely!"

"…"

"OK, I'll wait for your call, we'll be following the roads from here on out. We're getting off the motorway soon."

"…"

"To Lausanne, in about two hours."

The little TT went through the toll booth and arrived on the roads around Jura. Twenty kilometres or so later, Cleo's telephone rang.

"Yes…"

"…"

"OK, we're here. Tomorrow morning, nine o'clock." She closed the phone, put it in her bag and turned to Marco. "There's been a change of plan. Mr. Vaud is going to join us tomorrow morning, he's postponed the meeting. He will arrive at Lausanne's aerodrome tomorrow morning." As Marco didn't say anything, Cleo looked at him slyly as she added, "That means we're going to spend the night together!"

The last few minutes had profoundly troubled Marco: on one hand, the prospect of spending the night with this model of femininity seemed like a chance he could not have hoped for… but on the other hand, when he saw the crushed bits of plastic rolling around the footwell, he wondered if he would be capable of having an erection, in case their relationship became intimate…

They made it through customs easily enough, with the inevitable sticker for the windscreen, and finally arrived at Lausanne. They chose a hotel next to the lake.

Cleo seemed to be in a carefree frame of mind. Marco was somewhat astonished when she hired one room for the both of them. They dropped their bags inside before Cleo decided to do some shopping in town. Marco followed her like a pet. They looked so improbable as a couple that most passers-by couldn't stop themselves staring. They must have been asking themselves what could attract that large, athletic girl to that skinny runt. Cleo went into a high-fashion shop and bought herself a black suit. The jacket only had one button, forming a very open cleavage. The skirt was too long for her, so she asked for it to be cut to just 3cm longer than the jacket, which would leave most of her thighs uncovered. The girl at the counter looked offended but didn't say anything. They arranged that the suit be delivered to the hotel in the evening. She also bought a pair of seamed stockings and a black silk G-string. The panoply was complete with a pair of shoes with stiletto heels. They were made of black leather and consisted of two horizontal straps on the front of the foot linked by a vertical strap that went a small way up the leg, showing off the arch.

No-one seemed to have followed them during that time, and they had a great meal next to the illuminated lake before returning to the hotel. Cleo undressed in front of Marco, seemingly exhibiting no embarrassment. He couldn't help but admire her muscly, powerful body. He had seen what those muscles were capable of, so when she went off to the bathroom (marble, of course), he was fascinated by the undulations of the muscles, which seemed to have a life of their own under her bronzed skin. He went to the small pile of abandoned clothing on the floor and had to pick up the silvery G-string, filled with Cleo's wetness, and to bring it to his face to drink in her smell. She had left long, thick traces of juices on the G-string's gusset and Marco felt irresistibly attracted by their scent. All of a sudden he felt his neck prisoner of a powerful claw and, at the same time, his feet leave the floor. He found himself suspended two feet from the floor by Cleo, who was holding him by a hand.

"Drop that right now!"

"Er… sorry… er… I… I… I don't know what came over me.."

Confused and ashamed to have been caught red-handed, Marco did not know what to say. Cleo herself found the justification.

"I know that my pheromones are powerful. Men can't usually resist them," she said, opening her hand. Marco crumpled at her feet. She stood in front of him, legs slightly apart. He could see her shaven sex. She lightly passed a finger between her lips, and caressed her clitoris for an instant. Then she turned and again walked into the bathroom.

"Come with me."

He followed her. It was at that moment that Marco's telephone rang. He fished his phone out but didn't have the time to pick up.

"Give that to me."

She took the handset and placed it between her butt cheeks. With one contraction she had broken the plastic casing. Two more contractions and her mighty glutes were causing cracking noises. When she unflexed her muscles the remnants of the phone fell to the ground. She took them with her into the vast shower.

"Wash me."

His fingers filled with soap, Marco passed over all of Cleo's muscles. He was bewitched by the softness of her skin, the smoothness of her body and the power that he felt in her muscles, harder than marble, palpitating underneath. The scent of the girl, her simple presence near to him, made him her slave.

"You have no idea of my power," she said, stretching sensually. "Nefertiti and I owe our strength to an intense daily regiment, but mostly to the power of the gods of ancient Egypt. Our father was a scientist who became an expert in the history of the Pharaohs, but he was also a famous biologist. He was able to isolate particular genetic traits from certain mummies he examined. His knowledge of hieroglyphics told him that these mummies were the sons of humans and gods. He used his work to create us, my sister and me. He wanted us to represent the ultimate achievement of the human being; its highest level of perfection…"

"And…"

"And I think he achieved his goal. We have IQs higher than any genius, we are stronger than thirty men. Our reflexes are hyper-fast." She paused. "Dry me off."

He obeyed, dabbing delicately at her perfect body with a thick towel. She brought him to the bed. She was delicate and powerful at the same time.

"Lick me," she ordered.

When she had come into his mouth, she swallowed his penis, making him ejaculate within a minute due to her skilful sucking. Masterful caresses brought on a second erection almost immediately. She impaled herself on him, crushing him with her weight. He was trapped under her, unable to make any movement without her allowing it. Her sex palpitated around his, crushing it gently, bringing it almost to ejaculation, which she prevented at the last moment. When she decided the time was right, she let him ejaculate into her. This lasted most of the night, her caresses reviving his erection when even he himself thought it would be impossible. Her grip around his penis choked it until it hurt, then relaxed. Cleo's orgasms multiplied. Her wetness trickled down his sex, mixed with sperm. He ended up falling asleep, spent and in pain.

Next morning, when he woke up, Cleo was pacing up and down the room in her black G-string. She slipped on her stockings, and then the black suit. The miniskirt just about managed to cover her butt. She didn't put a bra on, instead opting to slip the black jacket on. The neckline left the tops of her breasts on show. She threw the clothes he had been wearing yesterday at his head.

"Hurry up, I'll phone a taxi."

[Fonk]

En anglais, maintenant.

———————

Cleo wove in and out of the Parisian traffic. Marco saw the towers of Notre-Dame and the Saint-Michel quarter fly past. They left the Sorbonne on the right to charge into a maze of narrow roads up to the Orléans gate. Cleo headed for the ring road, taking them south. She looked in her rear-view mirror more than was necessary, but once they were on the motorway she seemed more relaxed.

"I thought that the car would be more discreet than the train, after the incident at the station."

"You think there was someone else on the train?"

"I don't know, but I didn't feel like finding out," she smiled. Her fingers tapped a tune on the steering wheel. "It's not bad, this little car! Responsive, cute, everything…"

"You're a good driver."

"Oh, I manage! Mr. Vaud insisted that I take some race-driving courses. I chauffeur for him sometimes."

Marco looked at the slightly bent arms that drove the car in a precise yet relaxed way. He saw the sensuality of the discreet movements of the muscles under the skin that resulted in slight changes in direction. He felt secure in the hands of those muscular masses capable of lifting fifty times his own weight. At the same time, those thrilling forms, filled with life and power, ignited a sexual excitement in him that he had never experienced before. His gaze lowered towards the massive thigh that almost brushed the gearstick. He stopped on the one-sided battle between the fabric of her stockings, which was stretched to the maximum by her quadriceps, slightly contracted now they were at rest. The contrast was startling, reassuring, bewitching…

They had been driving for around fifty kilometres when Cleo spoke again.

"Hey, we're being followed!"

"Are you sure?"

"Let's find out…"

She slowed down a little. The black BMW behind them did the same. After a few kilometres, she accelerated brutally. The BMW did not let them out of its sight. She did it again, twice. After the third time, the BMW passed them. Cleo spotted that there were four people in the car. Less than ten kilometres later, the German car let them past.

"As soon as we find a place, we're stopping."

"Why?"

"I want to choose where I fight them. Anyway, we can't let them follow us like that, and I want to know who they work for."

"OK. I saw a sign, there's something in ten kilometres."

"With a petrol station?"

"No, just a picnic area."

"Perfect. I hope there's no-one there."

A few minutes later, the little TT was pulling off the motorway. Cleo had taken care to use her indicators to make sure they wouldn't lose the BMW. The picnic area seemed deserted. She pulled in to park. Less than two minutes later, the BMW stopped a few metres behind them, on the other side of the road. Cleo restarted the car and parked in front of the other.

"When I get out, get into the driver's seat and be ready."

"OK."

She started to walk towards the black car. Marco slid into the driver's seat. When she had nearly come up to it, the two doors on the pavement side opened at the same time. Two men got out, the rear passenger holding a pistol. Everything after that happened so quickly it might take a while to describe. Cleo gave a punch to the plexus of the man in front, winding him instantly, and at the same time delivered a roundhouse kick with her left foot that hit the second's wrist, making him drop his weapon. She grabbed the first man by the neck with her right hand and stuck him against the door. She roundhoused the second guy again, spinning in the opposite direction, and hitting his temple. She trapped his head between her foot and the BMW's roof. He struggled with all his might but the pressure held him firmly in place and he couldn't escape. During this, she hit the first man twice with her left. He started to spit blood. She struck him a third time, above the plexus in the rib cage, but with the tips of her fingers this time. Her fingers went all the way into the man's thorax. He stiffened for a moment. She jerked her hand again and it went into the man's body completely. The man spasmed. His wide eyes stared fixedly at the dark beauth who was killing him. She moved her hand around, which had disappeared up to the wrist, and drew out a red bloody mess. She held it in front of the second man's head, who was still vainly trying to move her foot. The pressure on his head was so strong that a small indentation had appeared on the roof of the car. She smiled and let the man go. He had just enough time to stand up. Cleo had lifted her right leg above her head and brought it down, hard, on her adversary's head. He was torn apart by the one blow, in a cracking of broken bones.

However, the second rear passenger had gotten out and gone round the back of the car. He had opened the boot and brought out a submachine gun. Cleo took a pace toward him, grabbed the weapon's barrel and took it out of his hands. She then took it in both hands. The metal groaned and the wood cracked until she had bent the gun into a U. She threw it to one side.

Just then they heard a muted humming: a lorry pulled up beside them. When it saw a bloody man on the ground and another in pieces, it accelerated quickly and left.

The third man profited from this diversion to try and make his escape. Cleo didn't give him the satisfaction. She jumped on him and put him in a full Nelson. She broke his neck like a twig. The driver abandoned his car and fled to a nearby wood. Cleo caught him at the edge of the trees. She turned him with a flick and gave him a hook to the face that made him fly back two metres into a tree. Without giving him time to breathe, she pinned him against the tree with her right foot on his neck.

"Who sent you?"

"No-one!"

"Tell me or I will crush your neck."

She put a little more pressure on, making the man cough.

"I don't know his name."

"As you wish!"

A little more pressure. The man's respiration was hot and difficult. He coughed harder.

"Do you want to die?"

"Arrrgghhh…. Kof, kof… yes, yes… wait!"

"Oh, that's better. Well?"

"He's… Jean… Tin… Tinguely…"

Cleo pushed with her foot, crushing his larynx. He spat up blood that trickled over Cleo's shoe and stocking. She pushed harder and his head sank onto her shoe, only held up by skin and muscle. She let go and the lifeless body slid down the length of the tree. She returned to the Audi and sat next to Marco.

"Come on, we have to find that lorry. I hope the driver hasn't spoken to anyone…"

Cleo stretched out on her seat, forcing her leather miniskirt a little higher up her legs, and put both feet on the dashboard. While giving due attention to the driving, Marco watched her wiggle her toes, which made little waves on the supple leather of her shoes. He also saw traces of blood drying. Her exciting, shapely feet were weapons of mass destruction.

"Are you alright? You look a bit ill."

"It's… it's just that I'm not in the habit of… Doesn't killing people affect you?"

"It's complicated."

"Complicated?"

"Yes, it's my job. Well, no. My job is security. But if I have to be radical… so, are we going to catch this lorry?"

He heard a squeal from the dashboard side. He took a quick glance and saw that she was putting weight on her feet.

"Oops!" she said, smiling, and relaxed her pressure. He hardened.

"How much do you weigh?"

"Ah! Ha ha!! That's a question you should ever ask a lady!" She paused. "But I'm proud of it: 135 kilos of muscle, for five feet ten!"

Marco was stunned. She weighed more than twice as much as he did.

They found the lorry.

"You have to get level with the cab, and stay there."

"OK."

She spread her legs a little and hitched up her skirt, revealing the tops of her stockings and her G-string. She moved to one side and started to touch herself. She quickly stuck a finger in her already wet vagina. She moved it in and out a few times before removing the shining finger and sticking it in her mouth, where she sucked on it greedily. The driver saw everything, especially as she was looking at him suggestively. Marco had been doubting he would let himself be convinced to stop, after the carnage he had witnessed.

"You think it's going to work?"

"It always works… Pass him and drive slowly in front. We'll stop at the next service station."

Soon they found one.

"Park in the HGV area, a bit away from the others."

"OK."

"Make sure he parks so that our car is hidden from the other lorries."

"OK."

The truck driver stopped near the TT. Cleo got out, adjusted her skirt and climbed the ladder to the cab. The door opened.

"Does it bother you if my husband watches?"

"No, but… what was that in the parking earlier?"

"Nothing, I made love to a guy and his friends thought it was their turn. They fought me…"

The driver relaxed.

"Oh, right! I was this close to calling the cops."

"You were right not to do it!"

She sat in the vehicle, her legs dangling.

"Lick me!" she ordered.

He turned his head and put it between her spread thighs. They closed around him. They were so large that the driver's head almost disappeared between them. Cleo smiled at Marco and started to squeeze. After a few seconds the driver started to gesticulate, trying to get free. His cries were muffled by the vice which was compressing his head. Cleo seemed to be enjoying it. A few seconds more and you could hear crackings. His head began to deform, becoming progressively oval. A few seconds later the crackings were more intense. The man had stopped moving, then had two or three spasms, then nothing. She kept up the pressure for a few seconds before opening her legs. He fell to the seat of the cabin. Blood ran from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears.

"I could have made his head explode like a melon, but I've got nothing to change into!"

[Author]

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