Message-ID: <6036eli$9712012245@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: pjurado@aol.com (PJurado) Subject: Gen 13: Face-Off Chp.1 by PJ (M/f, rape) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19971202003201.TAA16896@ladder02.news.aol.com> Gen 13: Face-Off by PJ warning. adult content. Chapter 1 Miguel Santiago sat quietly at his desk, reading a report on the inset computer screen installed within its surface. Soft, warm sunlight poured from a window to Miguel's right, illuminating his brown skin and glossy black hair. One of the double doors to his office opened, admitting his beautiful secretary, Carmen. "Sir, Security just picked up a spatial disturbance in North America, at the location where we lost our recovery team and the gen-active test subjects," reported the young woman. "Did they get a firm lock on the females?" inquired Miguel as he looked up from his screen. "Yes, and they detected the cybernetic signature of John Lynch," replied the raven-haired assistant. "So, he did betray me," muttered Miguel darkly. "Get back to Security. I want three assault teams after the gen-actives, capture if possible, terminate if capture is impossible." John Lynch sat at a small workstation, typing furiously on a keyboard as he scanned the Matrix for information. Caitlin Fairchild loaded a fresh magazine into one of Lynch's auto-pistols as she sat cross-legged on a twin bed, then she began disassembling an assault rifle for cleaning. Roxy Spaulding lay on her stomach upon another twin bed, drinking soda while watching "Broken Arrow" with Muerte. "When are we leaving this shit-hole town?" asked Roxy petulantly, her skin covered with a thin sheet of sweat from the heat outside. "As soon as I figure out how to get Aztechnology off our trail," replied Lynch while he continued to gather data from the Matrix. "Haven't they given up on us by now?" asked Caitlin. "They'll never give up until they either capture us or kill us. They'll be especially eager to get me since I betrayed them," answered John with a grimace. "Let's leave the country then, go to Europe or something," suggested Roxy. "That's not a bad idea, actually," admitted John. "Let me see what I can schedule." John worked on his terminal for the rest of the day, while Caitlin went over all of their remaining gear and Roxy restrained her natural impulse to shop or go clubbing. Muerte sat in a lotus position on the floor, meditating. It was late at night, when Roxy had finally fallen asleep and Caitlin was watching CNN, when Lynch spun around in his chair, his eyes narrowed with alertness. "An aircraft is coming, military grade," growled John. Caitlin tossed Lynch his rifle, then shook Roxy awake, pressing a pistol into the sleepy girl's hands. A dull roar grew steadily closer as a bright light filled the hotel room's only window. Lynch rushed to the side of the window, then carefully peeked from behind the thin drape. "Aztechnology assault chopper, coming right for us," hissed John. Caitlin ran to the other side of the window, crouching low as Roxy hid behind her bed, pistol shaking in her small hands while Muerte knelt beside her. "This is Lt. Guererra commanding Aztechnology Special Ops. You will discard any weapons and come out with your hands up. If you do not comply in ten seconds, I am authorized to open fire and terminate all four of you," declared the Aztech officer over the helicopter's PA system. "Fuck that," snarled Lynch before he shattered the hotel window with his rifle and fired a long burst at the chopper's windshield. Tracers slapped against the bullet-proof glass, provoking the helicopter's gunner to open fire. Gun pods on the chopper's wing stubs flared hotly as they released hundreds of rounds at the hotel building. Glass shattered and holes burst along the walls as bullets tore into the team's room and ravaged the interior. Lynch maintained a steady stream of fire, quickly replacing spent mags with fresh ones. Caitlin bit her lower lip, then charged out the shattered door of the room, standing defiantly in the helicopter's search light. A gun pod locked on the tall, slim girl's form, spitting out a loud stream of bullets. Caitlin staggered slightly under the assault, her green jumpsuit tearing in several places, revealing her flat belly and graceful arms. Caitlin crouched down, then jumped towards the hovering chopper, her shoulder length red hair billowing in the wake of her ascent. Caitlin landed on the nose of the chopper, then she quickly jumped again to the aircraft's right wing stub. She tore the gun pods from their mounts, then let them drop to the ground below while she punched her way inside the vehicle's passenger bay. The chopper began a slow dive as Cat neutralized the crew, then took over the pilot's chair just as the ground filled the cockpit view. She yanked back hard on the control stick, barely pulling the craft out of its fatal descent. Caitlin carefully landed the chopper in the hotel's parking lot, then shut off the engines before leaving. "Good work, Caitlin," nodded John with a smile before he hugged the panting young woman. "Thank you, sir," replied Cat as she returned John's hug, her arms tight around his waist. "Now what do we do?" asked Roxy behind Lynch, her short black hair whipping about her face from the chopper blade's backwash. "Santiago will keep coming after us unless we neutralize him. We go to Azlan, to finish this once and for all," declared John. "Great plan," retorted Roxy, her eyes rolling upwards to heaven. Dr. Walsh gazed intently at his computer display, watching columns of data scroll down the screen. The glowing characters gave his face a menacing appearance as he looked up from his work to stare hungrily at Copycat, who lay unconscious within a stasis tube. Her young body was naked within the large glass tube, floating in clear, viscous green fluid. The scientist's leering eyes lingered on her small, budding breasts, tight belly, and thin bush of red pubic hair. A second stasis tube held Sublime, while yet a third held Walsh's newest subject, a Hispanic girl code-named Foxfire. Dr. Walsh finished compiling his latest test data, saved it in his database for further study, then locked the lab's doors with a touch of a button on his console. Smiling in lewd anticipation, Walsh walked to Copycat's tank, then punched a sequence into the access pad beneath it. The green suspension fluid drained out of the glass tube, then the capsule hissed open, the glass receding downwards. Copycat remained comatose as Dr. Walsh picked up her light body and carried her to one of his examination tables. He laid the nude girl carefully on the cold metal, then he ran his hands up and down her flesh, his lips trembling while he caressed her young tits and slim thighs. Copycat coughed loudly, spitting out vestiges of green fluid from her lungs. She opened her eyes slowly, then turned her head to look at Dr. Walsh. "What..what happened?" asked Copycat weakly. "I've been performing some experiments on you, isolating your gen-factor for duplication," replied Walsh distractedly, his hands prying the girl's legs apart, exposing her tiny pink pussy. "What are you doing?" inquired Copycat dazedly, her brain foggy from the after- effects of stasis. "Just examining you. Lay back and relax," soothed Walsh before he lowered his face over Copycat's crotch, pressing his mouth into the soft folds of her labia. Copycat gasped in shock, her legs trembling as the doctor sucked loudly on her cunt, his tongue probing her little vagina roughly. The young girl grasped the edges of the examination table, biting her lower lip to stifle her moans while Walsh devoured her pussy, his cold lips chewing on her delicate petals of warm flesh. The scientist slid his left hand up Copycat's smooth stomach, wrapping his fingers around her right tit, crushing it in a strong grip. A groan escaped Copycat's mouth, perspiration glistening on her pale brow as she closed her eyes, her crotch on fire with helpless lust. Walsh lapped his tongue up and down her quivering slit, tasting her musky sweetness, then circling around her tiny asshole, covering the orifice with his mouth before sucking on it desperately. Copycat moaned deeply, her cunt becoming wet with her juices, her small breasts heaving with each gasping breath. Walsh licked the insides of the naked girl's firm thighs, biting the tender skin, leaving small tooth marks on her young flesh. Copycat writhed under the doctor's wanton touch, her skin gleaming with sweat while she wiggled her hips, her pussy melting from sensual heat. Dr. Walsh backed away from the moaning young girl, unfastened his trousers, then discarded them on the floor. He climbed up onto the polished examination table, then rammed his erect cock into Copycat's small cunt, shoving it deep into her warm belly. Copycat groaned loudly, her tiny hands pressing weakly on Walsh's chest as he pumped his member into her womb, his meat caressing the moist walls of her vagina. Copycat's slim legs lay spread apart limp and trembling while the doctor fucked her slit, his hips shoving forward mechanically, irresistibly, forcing his rod deep into her young stomach. Tears dripped down Copycat's cheeks as she lay helpless beneath the horny man, her pussy invaded by a thick, insatiable pole of lust. Walsh's crotch slapped obscenely against Copycat's, wet, squishing sounds marking each thrust into the naked girl's dripping cunt. With a low grunt, Walsh climaxed, shooting his load into Copycat's warm depths. The scientist slowly removed his cock from the sobbing girl's pussy, then cleaned the head in her batch of pubic hair. Walsh took Copycat's right arm, then pulled her into a sitting position. Ignoring the nude girl's tears, Walsh kissed her forcefully on the mouth, his lips enjoying the taste of her sweet skin. Breaking away slowly, the doctor pulled lightly on Copycat's lower lip with his mouth, then brushed back her sweat- drenched hair. Walsh dragged Copycat off the examination table, then led her back to the stasis tank. "Please..don't put me back in there," begged Copycat, her lips quivering with fear. "Nonsense. The stasis treatments are curing your multiple personality disorder, you didn't suffer one episode while I fucked you," smiled Dr. Walsh benevolently. "No, don't!" protested Copycat as the doctor shoved her inside the tank and closed it quickly. The naked girl beat her small hands ineffectually on the thick glass as fresh green fluid gushed out of vent ports, swiftly filling the tube. Copycat gulped in mouthfuls of the thick, clinging fluid, her lungs burning until they adjusted to the oxygen- rich substance. Waves of drowsiness washed over Copycat's terrified mind, lulling her back into unconsciousness. Dr. Walsh licked his lips, the taste of Copycat still lingering in his mouth. He made sure that the girl was safely back in stasis, then he left to write his report and inform Mr. Santiago of his success. *************************** -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /