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Zara Meets The Cave Monster by Atastretch
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Zara Meets The Cave Monster :iconatastretch:Atastretch 4 0
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Amy 2 :iconatastretch:Atastretch 15 10
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Meson Girl vs The Beast :iconatastretch:Atastretch 6 8
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Stretching :iconatastretch:Atastretch 15 23
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Alpha-Woman 2 :iconatastretch:Atastretch 6 14
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The Chinese Aerialist :iconatastretch:Atastretch 9 10
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May's Interrogation :iconatastretch:Atastretch 6 14
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Yuki's Drum :iconatastretch:Atastretch 10 22
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Yuki's Bridge :iconatastretch:Atastretch 11 8
Literature
Black Venus
Black Venus
-----------
By Atastretch
(A visitor to olden-day Paris witnesses a remarkable circus performance. This story is based upon descriptions and images of the act of a real performer, Miss Lala)
On a crisp day in January 1879 I left my lodgings and was afoot on the Rue des Martyrs, taking the air, when I chanced upon a poster proclaiming the wonders of the Cirque Fernando. The show boasted equestrian feats, clowns, flying trapeze performers and the like and, for some reason I cannot fathom, at that instant it held cordial allure that was beyond my inclination to resist. I bent my steps to the north, passing the Rue Condorcet and Avenue Trudaine, heading in the direction of the Boulevard de Rochechouart. Growing anticipation of some hours of engaging entertainment offered hope that I may perchance forget my troubles for a little while.
Cirque Fernando has its permanent residence in an imposing domed building at the Boulevard. I entered the antechamber, hoping that I had not miss
:iconAtastretch:Atastretch
:iconatastretch:Atastretch 7 5
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Yuki's Rack :iconatastretch:Atastretch 13 7
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Hypno-sis :iconatastretch:Atastretch 19 16
Hypno-sys scene by Atastretch
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Hypno-sys scene :iconatastretch:Atastretch 8 3
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Valencias Feats :iconatastretch:Atastretch 11 6
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May's Impact Conditioning :iconatastretch:Atastretch 12 5
Agent May's training by Atastretch
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Agent May's training :iconatastretch:Atastretch 4 1

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Activity


Zara Meets The Cave Monster
(Accompanying the drawing of the same name, a tale of a beautiful, fearless girl seeking adventure)

Half an hour after hearing the story that the old man had been telling, Zara was already trekking through the jungle. Her destination lay in a direction not often traveled and the path was for the most part heavily overgrown or non-existent. She swatted away the mosquitoes and pushed through a dense patch of bushes. She wore minimal clothing in the tropical heat and humidity, the thorny branches scraping against the bare skin of her arms, legs and waist. It was a five-hour journey to the village, but if what he had said was true - and she believed him - it would be worth it. Zara was finding day-to-day life crushingly boring. Fetch firewood, weave reeds, grind leaves, it was always the same. Now at last she had a chance to experience real adventure!

As she neared the outskirts of the village, she came upon a stream. After the arduous journey, she briefly considered washing the sweat and grime from her body and resting awhile but then she spied a woman washing clothes and her excitement got the better of her. Approaching the woman, after a brief salutation, she enquired about the location of the cave, the one of which the old man had been speaking, and the woman said that she would take Zara to it. Their path cut through the village and the woman chatted to her friends about this girl, who wanted to see the cave. Soon they were travelling as a crowd and just moments after arriving at the edge of the huge hole in the ground, the village chief himself stepped forwards and addressed Zara.

"What is your name and why do you come here?" he asked in a lofty tone.

"I am Zara and I have heard that there is a monster in this cave." she replied. She waited for a few seconds but no-one spoke, so she continued. "I have come to see this monster for myself." she explained.

"And how will you do this?" demanded the chief.

Zara turned, moved a couple of steps closer to the edge of the hole and looked down. One of many sinkholes to be found in this area of Borneo, it was a very large example. It was impossible to climb down the sides, as these were set back from the edges of the hole and quite inaccessible. Zara could see neither sides nor bottom of the hole, just blackness. She stepped back. "I will climb down a rope" she announced. "I will need the ropes of many men, tied together."

The crowd muttered excitedly amongst themselves but fell silent as soon as the chief spoke. "My best warriors are frightened to go into that hole." he declared. "The monster is very terrible and has killed some of our tribe at night." He paused for a few moments, then spoke again. "We will provide the rope if you will go into it."

Soon, a very long, sturdy rope had been put together and carefully checked for strength. It was securely tied to a nearby tree and the other end dropped into the darkness. The chief's voice interrupted the excited chatter of the villagers. "I will give you an axe, a parang and bamboo armour to protect you from the cave monster."

Zara smiled. "Thank you chief but I do not need these things." Then abruptly she took off both pieces of her animal skin clothing, her bracelets and necklaces, even her hair ties, until she stood naked as the day she entered the world.

This caused gasps of admiration from almost everyone in the tribe. From some it was because of the fully revealed beauty of her lovely form. Others were in awe of her bravery in agreeing to approach the cave monster in his lair. But all were amazed by her determination to face the monster in this totally defenceless state.

Zara was already at the hole and easing her way down into it. She winced as her breasts were momentarily caught on the edge, scraping over the rough rocks. Descending the rope, she was letting herself down hand-over-hand and gripping the coarse fibres between her feet to support some of her weight. Her eyes were gradually becoming adapted to the gloom and she could make out ledges on the sides of the walls around her, though she could still not see anything of the cave floor. She noticed that the hole was not vertical and that, as she lowered herself, she was approaching one of its sides.

Zara's arms and shoulders were already aching with effort and her hands and feet hurt. She began to regret her impatience, perhaps she should have rested for a little after her tiring journey through the jungle. And climbing back up this rope was going to be extremely taxing. Suddenly a movement below caught her eye and all other thoughts disappeared. There was something on one of the ledges! It was big but it moved fast. In an instant it was gone but Zara was sure she hadn't imagined it. Was it the monster? Some distance below, the rope dangled very close to ledges on the same side.

Zara quickened her pace, despite her fatigue. On a level with the ledge where she'd seen the movement now, she saw no sign of life. This ledge, as many of the others, seemed to be backed by a crevice or small cave mouth. Continuing her descent, she was now very close to the side of the sinkhole, almost close enough to reach with her leg.

Suddenly, a huge form sprang out of the darkness behind the nearest ledge and raced towards Zara! She froze as it stopped at the edge, roaring deafeningly. The beast was almost the size of an elephant, covered in bright green scales and had an enormous mouth, fringed with large, sharp teeth. Its big eyes glared at her, its long, thick tongue lolled hungrily from its mouth and its nose wrinkled in anger at her intrusion into its domain.
It was so close that Zara could feel its breath on her skin and smell the stench of rotting meat emanating from its mouth.  

Recovering from her surprise, Zara smiled, hung by her left arm alone and extended her other until she could gently touch the shaking monster on the nose with the tip of her finger...


Atastretch
May 2019
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Amy 2
-----

(Once again you are called upon to assist Amy in her efforts to develop her muscles.)

I was working on the computer one afternoon when the door opened and my flatmate Amy stood there. She was quite a sight, red-faced, dripping with perspiration and dressed in a tight, very skimpy light blue bikini, which appeared to be made of cheesecloth and held onto her body with threads. I tried not to stare. "Are you busy?" she enquired, frowning slightly. Her breathing was heavy, making her impressive bosom rise and fall rapidly and bulge rhythmically over the top of her bikini.

"Not particularly." I lied, looking at my watch. It was 3pm. I had a lot of work to finish but I could do with a break, especially if it afforded the opportunity to admire Amy's fantastic body for a while.

"Come with me." she invited, turning to give me a spectacular profile view of her lovely shape, framed in the doorway for an instant. I followed her out and was greeted by a hot blast as I left the room, closing the door after me to keep the air conditioning in. I had been in there for hours and had forgotten what a scorcher today was. It was slightly cooler downstairs but as we walked through the cellar door the temperature reached a new high.

"Why is it so hot in here?" I demanded, gasping as I breathed in the oppressive air. I could feel the sweat already trickling down my face.

"I've been working out in here for three hours" she replied, "and I'm afraid I might have warmed the room up somewhat." She grabbed an almost empty bottle of water from a shelf, looked at it in disappointment and gulped down the remainder thirstily.  

"Well hurry up, before I die of heat exhaustion, what did you want me to do?" Amy walked over to a big, cylindrical punch bag hanging by a chain from a heavy-duty hook in the ceiling. Below it, on the floor was a pool of liquid, which realised afterwards was probably her sweat. Reaching up and gripping the chain, She hopped off the floor and gripped the bag between her thighs. Letting go with her hands, she leaned back, lowering her upper body until it was horizontal.  

I mentioned that her body was fantastic. Well, it wasn't just perfectly proportioned and beautifully curvy, it was exceptionally fit as well. She was subtly muscular yet very lean and toned, the muscles of her torso and all of her limbs being well defined. I found it extremely attractive and quite a turn-on. Now here she was right in front of me, her thighs bulging as they gripped the bag and her abdominal muscles straining powerfully as they held her upper body in this stressful position. Twin ridges of muscle were thrusting up through the smooth skin of her belly, the deep groove between them extending from her sternum to just above the long slit of her navel. Her lower abdomen was flat, aside from the undulations of more abdominal muscles. I noticed that, like her face, her abs were reddened as if she'd already been exercising them.

"Can you grab that bat off the wall?" she asked rhetorically. I took hold of a full-sized cricket bat, which hung by a loop of string from a nail. "Now, turn it so that the "V" side is down and hit me in the stomach with it."

"What?!" I exclaimed incredulously.

"It's called abdominal conditioning." she explained, matter-of-factly. "It helps to toughen my muscles up, when they're hit whilst I'm tensing them. You did say you'd help me..."

I orientated the bat as she'd instructed and brought it down just above her navel area with a clunk. I expected it to make a slapping noise but then reflected that the bat was making contact between its v-shaped surface and the opposing ridges of her muscles. "A lot harder than that, please." said Amy in an impatient tone.

Soon I was hitting her pretty hard, much harder that I'd thought anyone could take and still keep a straight face, as she was doing. Her abdomen was going redder though, and she was sweating quite profusely with the strain of tensing her muscles to hold her torso horizontal. Every time I hit her, her breasts wobbled, a delightful effect, especially since I could see so much of their lovely curves around the edges of her little bikini top.

"Stop a moment." she said, after what must have been about five minutes. By this time my shirt was soaked with perspiration and I'm sure my face as well as hers must have been flushed with the heat. I was amazed that she'd managed to maintain this position for so long, especially with me beating on her like this. Her abs must be incredibly strong. I looked at their powerful bulges. "You see that tin of paint, there?" She gestured toward a bunch of stuff in the corner. Wondering why she wasn't coming down from the bag yet, I walked over and touched the handle of a large, unopened can of gloss black paint. "Yes, bring it here, would you?" It was heavier than it looked but I picked it up and went back to her. Was she going to rest her head on it, to take the strain off her stomach muscles, I wondered?

"Pass it here." she said holding both arms out. Incredulous, I watched as she took the weight of the can on her chest, stabilising it with her hands. The heavy tin squashed her breasts down and spread them outwards, making them seem double the size. But the effect on her abdominal muscles was almost as dramatic; they'd looked impressive before but now they bulged out even more, the groove between the sweat-soaked, reddened ridges swallowing up her navel and extending well below it. And I could see her lower abs much more clearly now, I noticed that the reflected light from their glossy curves shimmered, revealing that the muscles were vibrating with the awful strain they were under.

How she was doing this after five minutes of punishment I couldn't fathom, yet she was indeed maintaining her position, even with this increased weight. "More batting, please, and harder and just below the navel this time." she instructed, her voice sounding strained. I set to it, using the same force as before at first, then gradually harder and harder. She seemed to be able to take it, though her face was really red now and the trembling that started in her lower abs was spreading to the rest of her belly. Her breasts had stopped wobbling, as they were squeezed almost flat by the weight of the paint tin and bulging out from beneath its base.

It must have taken enormous core strength to maintain that position but a couple of minutes later she was still doing it. My forceful blows to her poor stomach were accompanied by grunts now, Amy's trembling was a lot worse, her tummy was a noticeably darker red and the sweat was just pouring off her glistening body onto the floor.

Suddenly, biting her lip, she moved her hands to the handle of the can, hooked her thumbs through and lifted it vertically, off her chest, until her arms were straight. Thinking that she'd at last had enough, I stopped hitting her. "Keep going - harder!" she gasped, then slowly began to lower the can behind her, keeping her elbows locked straight. Amazed, I complied, beating her tummy frighteningly hard every couple of seconds. I was sure she'd let me know if I was doing it too hard. The grunts were getting louder as I increased the force of the blows. They were now interspersed with gasps, as the can moved further and further from the punch bag, increasing the awful leverage of its heavy weight. I watched amazed as her body changed, the breasts had returned to their normal impressive shape, though still bearing faint imprints of the ridged edge of the can base. Her straight arms, corded with muscle and sinew as they took the weight of the can, moved slowly towards the horizontal, stretching her lovely, voluptuous breasts so that they moved higher and higher on her chest and strained harder against the little bikini top.

But the most amazing change in her body was the effect on her abdomen. As if rising in defiance to meet the blows of my bat, the ridges bulged yet higher, individual abs pushing up along their length, whilst the cleft between them deepened and lengthened further. Beside the ridges, the belly was no longer flat but was sinking in, as she moved the heavy weight further and further back. Her stomach was becoming concave, dragging the skin tighter over her ribs, making them more prominent. Apart from the jutting cords of abdominal muscle, her waist was becoming very thin. The tight waistline of her little bikini was now suspended above her tummy by her hip bones, leaving dark gaps on either side of the muscular central ridge.

Amy was now stretched right out and shaking badly with the tremendous strain to which she was subjecting her body. It was utterly beyond my comprehension, how she could do it. Think, she had already done three hours of strenuous training in this suffocating heat, then five minutes of this difficult, gut-wrenching position. Then she does a couple more minutes with this heavy weight on her chest, and now this extra leverage must be causing an excruciating strain on her abs, which must surely be in agony by this time. And added to all that, I've been beating her abdomen raw with increasing violence. How she could take these hard blows in her stretched-out position I couldn't imagine. Intrigued, I experimentally tried hitting her still harder, and lower down her belly. She grunted louder but didn't object.

Red-faced, maroon-bellied and shaking violently, with heaving chest and bulging breasts, Amy had endured this straight-armed position for over a minute now. She was groaning loudly and began shaking her head from side to side, spraying perspiration from her hair. It was as if she was begging herself to give up but bravely refusing. Then a few seconds later she cried out in pain or frustration and, with a heave, started to bring her still straight arms up. Excruciatingly slowly, arms shaking with the effort, they rose to the vertical and she lowered the paint can to her chest once more. I stopped using the bat and waited for her to straighten up. Nothing happened. "Do you want a hand?" I offered.

"Get the other can." she managed to say, in a tremulous voice. My mind went blank for a moment and I just stood there. "Get the other can." she repeated, in exactly the same tone. In a trance of disbelief, I went back to the corner and found an identical paint can to bring back with me. She had shifted the first can to rest on her right breast, so I placed the second one on her left, similarly squashing it flat as a pancake. As soon as I did that, her shaking intensified and she started a series of groans. She looked me straight in the eye and paused her groaning for just long enough to say, in a tremulous voice: "You're not hitting me hard enough. Please help me by hitting me as hard as you can."

If my face hadn't been, like hers, red as a beetroot by now, I swear I would have gone pale. Body still impossibly horizontal, arms straining, she managed to lift the heavy cans from her breasts, whilst I started slamming the bat into her defenceless belly again. The wood was sinking considerably deeper into her lower abdominal muscles now and she was wincing with each impact. As I watched my target and steadily ramped up the force of my blows still more, her belly once again began to collapse into a deep concavity, as she lowered the cans, arms shaking but still perfectly straight, behind her head.

Even after I saw her straighten out with one paint can, I would have bet a million dollars that she couldn't possibly do the same with two of them. Yet there she was, increasing the terrible leverage on her body by the second. Looking back, one of the most incredible things was that she didn't sag for an instant below the horizontal position. Her self control, her strength and endurance were astonishing. She was shaking horrifically now, yet her arms were only halfway down to horizontal. Her breasts were wobbling high in the bikini top, bulging up as if to pull out of their confinement at any moment. I could see that her nipples were becoming erect, only just covered by the upper edge of the thin, saturated cheesecloth. She was crying out with the strain on her abs and arms and with the violent beating that I was giving her belly.

Her tummy continued to sink in and her ribs bowed out more and more until she had finally lowered her shaking arms into the horizontal, maximising the effect of the weighty cans on her tortured body. And then somehow she just froze herself in that position, in an unreal rigour of agony, strength and willpower. I diligently continued to build up the force of my blows, until she managed to find time between her cries of anguish to yell "Harder!" in an unmistakable rebuke. Shocked at her unbelievable request, I decided to abandon all caution. I swung the bat fiercely time after time, the thuds of the blows growing louder and echoing around the inferno of the basement.

I adjusted my position, to be able to maximise my swing. I was surely hitting her lower belly as hard as I could now. I don't know if it was that, or the immense tension in her abdominal muscles, or the unbearable fatigue of exerting such strength for so long, but Amy began to let out a series of screams, getting louder each time, her purple face a mask of agony now. Tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes; her neck tendons stood out corded and drenched, as she strained her head forward, as if attempting to pull herself up. Her whole body was now shuddering as if she was having a fit and the sweat was pouring off her. Sweat pooled in the depressions in her belly and splashed up each time the bat impacted. I kept expecting her to pass out, or to collapse to the floor exhausted, but she had been holding those cans in that position for an incomprehensible two minutes now.

I was getting really tired and badly needed to rest - but I couldn't be the one to give up here! I swung the bat yet again, as hard as I could. I wanted to make sure I'd done everything this amazing woman had asked of me. I suddenly had an idea, adjusted the bat in my hands and brought it down edge on, the wood sinking even deeper than before into her ridged muscles. Amy roared and her body convulsed, but she somehow held her position.

I got about six more blows like that in, whilst Amy's tears streamed down her cheeks. She was screaming like a woman possessed all the time now. Then suddenly she went rigid and silent. Next instant she took in a huge, deep breath and her body gradually began to rise. Her heavily weighted arms were still straight, yet she was commanding her exhausted abdominal muscles to do a sit-up! It seemed totally impossible, yet with strength beyond reason, her body was responding. The shuddering began again almost immediately, worse even than before. Rising only a few inches, Amy stopped and screamed defiantly. I landed another powerful blow on her abdomen, causing her scream to change to a guttural grunt.

Next moment, still shaking horribly, she took a second enormous breath. She was rising again, terribly slowly, so I made an extra effort and whacked the edge of the bat deep into her abdomen, an inch above her bikini line. She let out a deep, inhuman cry as, with an audible snap, her bikini top failed under the strain and flew off. Those delectable breasts, nipples fully erect, burst into view, glossy and shimmering as they wobbled tautly with the violent shaking of her body. With that, I dropped the bat, I couldn't continue. With the shock of my last mighty blow, Amy had sagged back a little but she immediately took another deep breath and ground herself forward again, screaming all the way to the top.

Quickly relieving her of the paint cans, I wrapped my arms around her soaked, almost naked, convulsing body and tried to help her down, but her legs remained locked tightly around the punchbag. "What are you doing?" she croaked weakly, "haven't finished yet..."

She pushed my arms away and, with a deep groan, lay back into the horizontal position again, still shaking. "G-get on." she said. She was crazy. Without hesitation, I lifted my leg over her body and straddled her belly, then raised my feet from the floor. We immediately dipped slightly and Amy let out an intense scream as her tortured abs were brutalised beyond their limits. I could feel her ridge of abdominal muscles thrusting up into my crotch as I goggled at the sight of her shuddering bare breasts right in front of me. Unable to control myself any longer, I reached forward and gripped her two hot, gleaming breasts in my hands, feeling her hard nipples digging into my palms. I squeezed them and looked at Amy's face. Her mouth was open and flecks of foam were at its edges. Her eyes were wide open but as I watched their irises rolled upwards, leaving her eyes completely white, She was making a gurgling noise but those incredible abs still held us up.

Without thinking, I leaned forward to kiss her, supporting myself with my hands on her breasts, which bulged through the gaps between my fingers. What I didn't realise in the moment was that my passionate urge had shifted my centre of gravity considerably forwards, increasing the terrible stress on Amy's abs yet further. I felt them react by leaping up painfully into my crotch, tilting me even further forward. Amy screamed deafeningly as her abs were strained almost to breaking point. Unable to resist the downward force any longer yet still determined with her last vestige of strength to do so, Amy's upper body sagged more, in turn causing me to lean further forward. Amy screamed louder, held us up for a second then fainted, spilling me to the ground.    

Atastretch
February 2019

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Meson Girl vs The Beast
-----------------------
By Atastretch

(Against all odds, a badly injured Meson Girl carries out her mission, rescuing scientists from a terrible peril.)

"It is absolutely imperative that these scientists be protected!" concluded The Big Boss, thumping his fist down on the desk to emphasise the importance. There was no need, I knew my duty and he knew that he could rely on me to complete any mission successfully. I pulled my tummy in, stuck my chest out, clicked my heels together and gave the sharpest of salutes.

There! He did it again! Since they'd issued me with this ridiculous new uniform, every time I saluted him, his eyes widened slightly and his adam's apple lurched. I suppose his reaction was understandable, the garment hardly covered any of the front of my body, it barely concealed my nipples. I was convinced that it was too tight, especially for my breast size, but they insisted that it was correct. How they expected me to fight properly in it I don't know. Mind you, I have to admit that it helped distract my opponents on more than one occasion. The leg cut-outs were so high above my hips that it made my legs look like a giraffe's. Yet at the same time the front of the waistline was so low that, for the first couple of days I wore it, I had to keep checking that it hadn't slipped down a few millimetres, which would have made it positively indecent. And the way the material strained, my breasts bulged around it when I stuck my chest out like that, well, I had to feel sympathy for him.

He cleared his throat: "Begin your mission immediately, Meson Girl. Dismissed!"

I left the office and hurried down to the underground car park. Hopping into my Meson Vehicle, I set the guidance system to take me to the local zoo, just fifteen minutes away. I had learned at my briefing that the scientists worked at a research and development facility within the city's zoological gardens. They were involved in genetic experiments of some kind, though that was the extent of my need-to-know knowledge. Why D.R.E.A.D. should want to kidnap them I did not know, I only knew that it was my job to prevent it. I would take them to a safe house until the threat was past.

At this time of night, only security lights and a few windows of the research block were lit. Stepping from the car, I saw and heard nothing except sudden stars and the sickening crunch of something hard and heavy crashing into the back of my skull.

I awoke hazily, my head pounding, then suddenly jerked back to full awareness when I recalled what had happened. My eyes snapped open and I sat up. I was in a glass room, maybe twenty feet square, and my arms were tied extremely tightly behind my back, elbows touching. A closed door separated my room from a similar one, in which huddled two bespectacled men dressed in white lab coats. I recognised them immediately as the scientists I'd been sent to protect. A third glass-walled room seemed to be empty. It adjoined the scientists' room on one side, separated again by a closed door. I could see now that these three rooms were made up of glass partitions that divided a forty foot square room into quarters. In the remaining quarter sat a dozen men; one other stood before them - I recognised him as a senior D.R.E.A.D. agent.

How could I have been so careless? How could our intelligence be so wrong? D.R.E.A.D. had already made its move!

Many of the men were gazing lustfully at me. "Ah, Meson Girl, nice to have you back with us!" said the agent. "We've been waiting for you to awaken so that you too can enjoy our little demonstration."

"Hey!" called one of the men, grinning in my direction. "Nice mesons!" Most of the others laughed with him. I smiled, mostly in pity for the poor moron. Did he really think it was the first time I'd heard that one?

As the laughter subsided, the D.R.E.A.D. agent turned to his audience. "Gentlemen, "he announced, "you are about to witness a display of power and ferocity never seen before. What these scientists have accomplished is remarkable. It is ironic that they should be destroyed by their own creation, but so it must be. Their work is done, D.R.E.A.D. alone possesses their secrets and we will sell them today to the highest bidder amongst you. Imagine, if you will, what could be achieved by an army of these creatures, when a single one can do this..."

The agent spun slowly on his heel and made the extravagant gesture of a showman toward the third, empty room. A second later, a door opened in the far side and something entered.

I blinked. Although I had not known what to expect, this was probably the last thing I would have expected to see. I could hear gasps coming from some of the seated men. Through the corner of my eye, I could see that some of them were rising to their feet and backing away from the glass.

The animal was a fully-grown male Siberian tiger. A magnificent creature, it must have been all of nine feet long. Its markings were exquisite, it looked like a perfect specimen. It flowed further into the room with easy grace and strength, powerful muscles seething beneath its gorgeous fur. It padded around silently on its huge paws for a few seconds, turning uncertainly in the middle of the room.  

"Don't be alarmed, gentlemen" re-assured the agent quickly, "that glass is extremely strong, you are in no danger."

My mind was racing. What would happen if the door between the tiger's room and the scientist's room were to open? How could I possibly save them?

Next moment, I froze, my eyes riveted to the open doorway through which the tiger had just entered.  

Another beast was slowly coming into the room. I say "beast" because I could not tell what kind of creature it was. It was big - very big. It reminded me first of a grizzly bear, yet it also had an indefinable, eerily human look about it. Although it walked on four legs, the front paws moved awkwardly, as each was tipped by four enormous claws, curving inwards like sickles with nine inch blades. It had thick, light grey fur and its overall shape was similar to that of a gorilla, in that the hindquarters were small compared with the massive muscularity of the front end of its body. The thing must weigh four or five hundred kilos, I guessed. It paused, regarding the tiger emotionlessly with eyes that seemed to sparkle with intelligence. The tiger's nose furrowed as it snarled at the beast, revealing canine teeth almost three inches long. With a deafening roar, the huge cat suddenly launched itself, a terrifying vision of ultimate ferocity.  

What happened next was almost too fast to see. Like lightning, the beast pivoted to one side, whilst its fearsomely armed forelegs blurred through the air with an audible hiss. One met the big cat's face head-on in a downward sweep and the other arced upwards, below its body. With impossible violence, the tiger jack-knifed in the air, to fall with a spine-chilling scream just beyond the beast, blood spurting from its head and abdomen and entrails spilling to the ground. The beautiful animal thrashed frantically on the floor for just a couple of seconds before sagging lifeless into a rapidly expanding pool of its own crimson blood.

It had not even managed to touch its killer, which had already begun to lick the blood from its claws.

It was a few seconds before I could even move. I was totally shocked by what I had just witnessed. I glanced at the spectators in the next room. The agent was smiling with quiet satisfaction, all of the others wore expressions of terror. White faced, some had collapsed in a heap in their chairs, some had fallen quivering to the floor and others cowered against the back wall. One was trying in panic to leave the room by its only door, which seemed to be locked.

A movement drew my attention back to the beast. A glint in its eye, it had begun moving slowly towards the scientists, who were huddled, trembling, in the far corner of their room. Heart already pumping fast with adrenaline, I raced to the door between our rooms. Turning so that my bound hands could grasp the handle behind me, to my surprise I found it unlocked. I hesitated in the open doorway, still having no plan of what to do. The terrifying beast was almost at the door separating it from the scientist's room. Would it be able to break the door down? It certainly looked powerful enough to.

Rooted to the spot, I watched, horrified, as the beast reached for the handle, turned it and opened the door!

I yelled and beckoned at the scientists to come into my room but they were too terrified to move. It was not surprising, it would have meant moving closer to the beast before they could get to the door. There was only one thing for it. With heart pounding as if to burst from my chest, I ran into the room and positioned myself between the men and the beast. I turned to face the animal. It had stopped and was regarding us curiously, its head tilted slightly to one side. Blood stained its lips. Then it started to move slowly forward again.

Instinctively, I backed away, until I could hear the scientists whimpering right behind me and I could go no further. Almost naked, my hands tied behind me, I had never felt so defenceless. What use was my body as a shield against such a monster? The creature was almost upon me now, I could hear its rasping breathing and feel its hot breath. Just a couple of feet away, its bulk dwarfing my five foot frame, it stopped.

It slowly raised one forepaw, my eyes following those lethal claws. I was shaking and my chest, pushed fully outwards by the tight bonding of my elbows, was rising and falling with my rapid breathing. The beast extended one claw, which lightly touched my bulging left breast, just below the nipple. A shiver of dread passed through my whole body. Experimentally, the beast applied increasing pressure, slowly denting the trembling skin until the point tore into my flesh, gradually burying itself to one third of its length.

Though it was agony, somehow I prevented myself from screaming. I had seen that the beast had not attacked the tiger, only defended itself. It had a human element to it, I was sure. After all, it had known exactly how to open the door. It seemed inquisitive about my body, perhaps it held some residual human sexual interest. I resolved to be as passive as possible, so as not to provoke it.

As the creature slowly withdrew its claw, a rivulet of blood traced its way down my breast and between my abdominal muscles. I almost cried out but gritted my teeth and managed to limit it to a quiet moan. Then the beast lowered its paw and placed all four of the claws on the left side of my belly, two above the navel and two below. Sweat streamed down my face, stinging my eyes and I began to tremble violently. After what had happened to the tiger's belly, I was terrified. Every instinct told me to run for the door, but I knew that, however hopeless the situation seemed, I could not abandon the men behind me, it was my duty to save them, even if I should die trying. With terrible slowness, the claws dragged sideways and downwards across the smooth, wet surface of my heaving abdomen. At first they painfully scratched the skin, then excruciatingly cut into it, slicing quadruple slits deeper and deeper into my upper and lower abdominal muscles as they moved across to the right side of my belly.

I don't know to this day how I suppressed the scream. I felt that my brain would explode with the pain. I dared not look down at my poor belly but watched through a haze of tears as the beast raised its paw slowly to its lips to taste my blood.

Through the agony I became aware that my wrists were vibrating. What was happening? I fought to clear my mind. My wrists were free! Next moment the vibration was at my elbows. One of the scientists was cutting my bonds! He must have found a penknife or something.

The rope fell away; I could only think of one course of action. No matter how big the animal, it has to breathe. Steeling myself, I crouched then sprang into a forward somersault. The beast had been quick enough to anticipate and react to the tiger's attack from ten feet away but not to my unexpected vertical leap from such close quarters. As I passed over its head, I reached down and clasped my wrists in my hands, encircling its throat. Suddenly jerked to a halt, my back against the back of the animal, I felt the wounds pull open as my body arched backward and stretched out. I screamed at last, in almost overwhelmng pain, and felt warm blood stream down my thighs.

Enraged, the beast reared onto its hind legs and began to lurch around, attempting to throw me off. I knew that I had to keep hanging on, it was our only chance. As we turned, the scientists came into my view, their white lab coats spattered librally with my scarlet blood. I shouted at them to run, so they sprinted out of the room, skirted the dead tiger and disappeared through the door. My abdomen was screaming at me to let go as, time and again, my slashed belly was agonisingly stretched by the beast, which behaved like a rodeo bull as it tried to dislodge me. The creature was waving its forelegs around but dared not grab at my hands, as its clumsy nine-inch claws might slit its own throat.

The bucking got worse as the beast panicked, feeling its air supply cut off by the 60kg I was applying to its windpipe. I was almost passing out from the pain when I realised that its struggles were diminishing. Then at last it collapsed. Crouching beside it, I put one foot on the back of its neck and, with my arms around its throat, I heaved with all my remaining strength for as long as I could without fainting, to ensure that it had taken its last breath.

I staggered to my feet, almost slipping over in my own blood. Glancing at the spectators, I could see that their room was still in complete chaos. With one hand on my belly, I stumbled after the scientists. They had unlocked an external door with the keycode and thoughtfully left it open for me. I soon caught up with them and we raced to the safehouse in my meson vehicle.


Atastretch
September 2018
It occurred to me to ask my followers (and anyone else who may be passing through here) what their favourite female strength scenes from movies are.

If you could provide a link to a video clip that would be great. Then we can maybe all discover exciting scenes which we never saw before! 

I'll kick off with the fantastic Rachel McLish from the film "Iron Eagles III":

deviantID

Atastretch
Atastretch
United Kingdom

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:iconmcgaston:
McGaston Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2018  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fave!  :thanks: :iconsparklesmileplz:
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:iconkrysnha:
Krysnha Featured By Owner May 13, 2018
Hello howare you hope you are alrigth
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:iconatastretch:
Atastretch Featured By Owner May 16, 2018
Still here!
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:iconkrysnha:
Krysnha Featured By Owner May 16, 2018
Ok, read the new storie, was good but i think your older works were better, specialy theone with one were many girls working out in the gym, and the trapecist girl was amaizing.
Love the idea of the interrogation but dont know didnt atract me
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:iconatastretch:
Atastretch Featured By Owner May 17, 2018
I agree about this one. What was the name of the trapecist girl story, I'm not sure which one you meant?
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:iconcoolyin:
CoolYin Featured By Owner Edited May 6, 2018
Yuki so far always does what she does in a "safe" environment, with people who love her and protect her if it gets dangerous. Maybe she can take a challenge against people who really want to hurt her and she has to take whatever they can dish out?
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:iconatastretch:
Atastretch Featured By Owner May 7, 2018
I wouldn't want to do that to Yuki, I'm too fond of her! Besides, I don't think she could survive any more than she willingly subjects herself to.

However, I am considering letting Agent May (from my "May's Impact Conditioning" story) fall into the hands of some inconsiderate people...
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:iconcoolyin:
CoolYin Featured By Owner May 9, 2018
I also want her to willingly subject herself to it, as a bigger, more risky challenge. I strongly dislike everything that involves kidnapping, rape and similar things.
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:iconatastretch:
Atastretch Featured By Owner May 18, 2018
I don't think Yuki would willingly put herself at the mercy of people who want to hurt her, she would have to be crazy to do that. Mind you, I suppose she has to be a bit crazy to take the risks and endure the pain that she does.

Maybe some other character might, do it, though.

Did you find "Alpha-Woman" and "May's Interrogation" distasteful? They were the only stories of mine that involved the heroine being taken against her will. 
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:iconkrysnha:
Krysnha Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2017
Hello how are you
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