The hallways of the Los Alamos Nuclear Lab in New Mexico were filled with police and security guards. There had been a break-in the night before, the last of several that had taken place over the past month. It was thought that sensitive information, valuable for terrorists, had been taken from one of the buildings. Santa Fe Police Bob Porter was sweating bullets in the office of the new Alamos Security Chief, John Carey, who was disgusted by the ineptitude of the local cops.


"What's worse is that you depend on that big-chested bimbo Wondra to do your job for you, " he said after shouting out a string of obscenities. "She may have super strength, but her brains aren't much of a match. In each of the cases a woman here, at Los Alamos, gave security information and password clearance to some guy that they said they fell in love with. Where is this Casanova? Even if Wondra finds the guy, she will probably will run off with him!"



At that moment Wondra, who had read about the robbery in the newspaper, walked into the room, hearing the last comment. Monica's long and muscular body, her large breasts tucked into a gold halter top, her curvy hips and shapely thighs wrapped in gold hot pants and calf high boots stopped the conversation. Police Chief Porter looked at the ground, embarrassed about what had been said. "So this is what you think, Mr Carey," Monica said with scorn, planting her hands on her curvy hips and jutting out her impressive chest. "Yeah, I have heard about you," the crew-cutted officer said, looking her up and down as if she was selling her body on the street, "and you would make a better model than a super heroine."



"I assure you that I will stop these break-ins and bring in this Casanova, as you call him. Women are as capable as men of containing their emotions and acting with courage," Monica said, trying to keep calm but fuming inside. Police Chief Porter kept his mouth shut as Wondra shook her head of long raven-black hair and left the room, slamming the door behind her. "Well, let's see if the vaunted bombshell is as good as her word," snapped Carey, looking at the Police chief.



Outside in the hall Wondra bumped into a secretary, a tall, green-eyed red-head wearing a black mini-skirt that accentuated her killer legs. The woman signaled Monica to follow her into an empty room off the hall. She said her name was Betty and then whispered in Monica's ear. "A man came in yesterday named Christof. He had a lot of questions about my job. He sweet-talked me into meeting him for a date. He was very handsome and charming. I told him to come to my apartment late tonight, after work, around 8 p.m." she said. "Have you told the police yet?" Wondra asked, thinking that it would have been better if Betty hadn't. She would show that arrogant Carey what a superheroine could do.



"No," the woman said, "I saw you and I so admire you that I wanted you to know first. Should I tell the police now?" "No," said Wondra, thinking for a moment and then looking at the woman with determination, "I want to talk to this Christof myself. He may be harmless. Or very dangerous: give me your address."



"Good luck," Betty said to Wondra after giving the Santa Fe Avenger the information she needed. As the beauty walked away, Betty looked enviously at her hourglass figure and long legs, her piercing brown eyes and thick black hair. It wasn't fair, she thought, for a woman to look like that and have super powers. But her new boy friend would take care of that: he was going to neutralize her forever. Betty felt her breasts tingle with pleasure -- they always did when she thought of him. She flipped open her cell phone and made a call.



"Yes sweetheart," she said with a smile, "Wondra will be at my place tonight, expecting to interrogate you. But you will be ready with a trap she will not be able to resist. After you take her, you and I will go away together." She laughed into the phone.



Monica wanted to surprise Christof, so around 7:30 p.m. she flew into the window of Betty's ground floor apartment in a quiet suburb of Santa Fe. "It would be best if I question this guy first," Wondra told Betty, "leave for around a half hour. Things should be cleared up by then."



At 8 p.m. Wondra heard a knock at the door, but before she could say a word she heard two guys, who had climbed through a back window, creep up from behind, holding pads that smelled as if they were soaked in bottles of chloroform: they were going to put Betty out. "Sorry that Betty isn't here to meet you, I guess I will have to do," snapped Wondra with confidence, immediately turning around and planting herself in battle stance. The men wore black ski-masks and went for her immediately. She pivoted on her right leg and kicked one in the head, sending a pad flying into the air. Another tried to grab her arm but Monica gave him a quick karate chop in the neck, sending him off to dreamland.



The guy who was still awake picked up the pad and attempted to push it into her face. Monica laughed at his clumsiness and boxed his ears. He hit the ground wriggling in pain. "You guys are pretty easy to take care of, " Wondra said with a giggle. Monica figured she would call security soon. But she wanted to find out which of them was turning women into love-struck traitors.



"Which one of you is the lady's man?" Wondra asked with a smile, planting her hands on her hips. "I am," a man said as he walked through the open door. He removed his ski mask, revealing a handsome face, with black hair and piercing blue eyes. Monica felt her breasts tingle with pleasure -- he was quite attractive, his body slim and well-built. But he was not good-looking enough to let go.



"Well, here is one gal who can resist you," Monica snapped. She walked up to him and pushed him off his feet. He landed with a thump against the wall. She heard a groan of pain and figured the battle was over. "You are obviously a lover rather than a fighter," Monica said, tossing her long black hair arrogantly, "now I call security and have you guys taken away." She strolled to the phone.



Suddenly Monica felt something softly hit her back. She reached back and pulled it off -- it was a small adhesive pad. "Is this the best you can do?" Monica laughed. Suddenly more of the pads were landing on her gorgeous body, sticking on her large breasts and muscular thighs, smooth arms and shapely calves.She couldn't remove all them quickly enough. Monica was beginning to feel unsteady on her feet, her legs wobbling as if they had been turned to jelly. She couldn't help but think of man's touch, of having men caress her and possess her.



"What in the world?" Wondra said, turning her head to see Christof and another large man, who had come in after him, smiling. They were tossing more of the pads at her swaying body. "Feeling weak and sleepy, Wondra?," said Christof, as he walked towards her, "these pads are filled with a combination of quick-acting anesthetic and aphrodisiac. Your skin absorbs it instantly. Time to fall in love and tell us your secrets."



My only chance is to take them out, fast, thought Wondra. But her reflexes were slowed by the powerful drugs. She managed to kick Christof away with a foot to the stomach, but she slipped and fell after the exertion. "Uhhh..." Monica groaned as she hit the ground. She immediately got to her feet, but the superheroine was wobbling badly, her head beginnng to nod with dizziness between her huge chest, which was covered with the pads. She was becoming more and more turned-on, dreaming of man's touch.



"Why are you doing this?" asked Monica weakly, trying to shake her head clear of sexual fantasies and regain her strength. "Terrorists want to take bomb-making material out of Los Alamos," responded Christof, slyly keeping the weakening heroine's attention on him, "and you are the only thing stopping them. I have been hired to neutralize you by possessing you." "Well, I will resist and defeat you," said Wondra, trying to look him in the eye with defience.



A moment later a thick pad soaked in chloroform covered her mouth. The strong arm of the other man curved around her small waist, holding her body tight against his.



"Uhhhh....uhhhhh....mumphhh.." Monica cried, writhing and wriggling with all her strength in the vise-like grip. But the sweet-smell of the chloroform overwhelmed her. Her eyes slowly flickered as she was gently lowered to the floor, the pad firmly pressed over her mouth and nose. Her breathing began to slow...she was becoming very sleepy.



"You are as powerful as you are beautiful," said Christof, "I must make sure you are completely docile." He looked at the struggling beauty in front of him, her long legs and large breasts covered with a thin coating of sweat. Most of the pads were slowly sliding and dropping off her creamy skin. "I will resist ...you...evil...must not let...nuclear secrets out of Los Alamos," snapped Wondra, unconvincingly. Christorf signaled the man to hold her firmly around the waist as he slid her gold hot pants down to her knees.



"UHHHH...uhhhhh....uhhh." screamed Wondra, wildly tossing from side to side, trying to slide out of the man's grip around her waist, her hands too weak to break the pressure. "It will all be over in a moment, Wondra," said Christof, "do not fear, it will not hurt, it will only give you mind-numbing pleasure." He deftly slid two small pads into her vagina and slid her gold hot pants back on. He placed his hands on her golden boots and pressed them tightly together, so Wondra could not remove the pads. "This is the same mixture but laced with heroin," he said, "once it is absorbed into your body you will tell me all I want to know."



Monica's eyes opened wide in horror as she bucked and kicked as hard as she could to escape the vile drugs. But as desperately as she twisted, the Santa Fe Avenger was held tightly around the waist. Her hands were pinned behind her and Christof held her legs together, watching expectantly. Suddenly, Wondra felt a warm explosion in her body: waves of sleepy pleasure flooded her senses. She felt soft and weak all over; her mind was filled with dreams of seduction. She wanted man's touch; she lived only for man's touch.



Once she had gone limp and groggy, Christof signaled that Wondra be placed on her back on the bed in the adjacent bedroom. He held her legs as she was lifted. "She will not be any trouble now. I have to find out how to remove her powers," the sexual mastermind said to the other man, who was holding her heroine's hands above her head, which was cushioned on her long black hair. Wondra's head nodded up and down: she was sleepy and delirious, anxious to answer any question that would bring her man's touch.



"What is your most sensitive erotic area, beautiful one?" whispered Christof in her ear. He was beginning the process of hypnotic seduction. "My breasts," answered Wondra softly, "when man controls them I am enslaved." The other man rolled down the gold halter top, to reveal the woman's amazing chest. Christof smiled and quickly took some small pieces of silver foil out of his pocket -- he carefully wrapped her nipples with the thin metal. Small electical charges shot into her nipples and spread through her massive breasts, creating soft, throbbing vibrations that stimulated her to a sexual frenzy. Christof began rubbing the foil and then fondlingWondra's breasts. Her nipples grew harder and harder, poking through the foil; her eyes flickered open and closed.



After a few minutes the helpless maiden of might arched her back, hissing in complete submission, "OOOOhh....OOOOhhh yes...I am yours...Christof...I love...you...must have your touch." "Than answer this question: how do I take away your power forever, Wondra?" he asked. "Remove my golden bracelet, that takes away my powers. If I lose my virginity I lose strength forever." "So if I take you now you will become helpless?," asked Christof. "Yes, will be like any other woman," said Wondra, deep in an erotic dream.



Christof signaled for Monica to be chloroformed for a moment, to keep her groggy. He slid the bracelet off her arm. Wondra fought to stay defiant, but soon moaned softly and subsided completely into Christof's power, her eye-lids drooping. She spread her legs wide in submission. "Go get Betty," he said to his confederate, "Just to make sure I will remove Wondra's power once and for all before we leave. Than we make put each woman out. We will take Wondra many times tonight to guarantee that her stength is gone." The man nodded and got up, looking down with a sneer at the groggy Wondra. The bitch is done for. Los Alamos will be easy to raid now -- the nuclear material will be theirs.



"This will be a pleasure," said Christof, sliding down his pants, "to take you and make a cool million from my employers, the terrorists of Berdai." He slowly rubbed Wondra's erect nipples with his nails, making Wondra groan with pleasure as he began to scratch them harder and harder. "I love..Christof...must be his...forever," she whispered. He leaned over and kissed Wondra, who responded with enthusiasm, placing her arms around his body. She was his compliant girl friend, helpless to resist his commands.



"That is just what I wanted to hear," said one of the men who had been knocked out by Wondra with a karate chop earlier. He had been faking unconsciousness, stretched out on the floor. Jumping up, he pulled out a gun and shot the other two men. He signaled for Christof to put up his hands.



"I am working undercover with the C.I.A." the agent said, "we had to learn who you were working for." Wondra groaned on the bed, her arms and legs gliding impatiently over the blankets -- she was awaiting man's touch. "Put back the bracelet and remove your evil tools," the C.I.A. agent ordered. Christof reluctantly removed the foil and placed the bracelet back on Monica's arm. The effect was almost immediate: her eyes snapped open and, re-energized, Wondra nimbly jumped to her feet with a single bound. Embarrassed to see that she was exposed, Monica placed the gold halter back over her magnificent chest.



"Thank you.. agent?" Wondra said."My name is Alex James, Wondra," he said, not hiding his appreciation for the brown-eyed, black-haired gold clad beauty standing before him, "and I will keep your secrets. As for Christof and his goons, they are guilty of working with terrorists. They will be talking to no one for a long, long time, so they will reveal nothing."



Monica looked at Alex James as he removed his ski-mask: he was a broad-shoulded man in his 30s, with brown hair and eyes. She felt her breasts tingle with pleasure, much as they did when she was around Richard Arden at the University. She shook her head and prepared to leave. "You will take care of these monsters," she said, wanting to get away from Alex James because he made her feel weak and sexy. She had had more than enough of that tonight. "Yes and I will tell Carey in Security that you were instrumental in landing these guys," James said. Wondra smiled and left, knowing that she had found a valuable friend in the fight against the forces of terrorism.

end.