Mr(s). X

>You're up shit creek without a paddle, you tell yourself
>There's zombies all over the place and you're running out of ammunition, there's only so many rounds of electro-stim tipped 5.56 you have left before you have to resort to lethal means
>Thanks, eggheads back at command, it's not like you lost at least three female comrades to the Zeds
>Hear the familiar 'whap-whap-whap' of helicopter blades above the building, Thank the Mother above
>Suddenly, there's a crash and you're covered in plaster
>It's some kind of tube that opens with the hissing of escaping air, with its occupant stepping out
>It's massive, at least eight feet tall and only half-clothed
>Wide muscled hips, long legs, abs that look like something a bodybuilder would have... Breasts that put a Holstaur to shame with a face that has high, aristrocratic cheekbones
>Silver hair flowing down to its lower back, past its heavy jacket
>No mistaking it, she's another one of the damned Zeds, but she also has some heavy weapons Jinko looking claws
>Look, Lady, I'm pretty sure you're not going to find the Conan the Barbarian convention here
>Raise your weapon, tell her to stand down
>She just stares at you impassively, taking one thundering step forward
>Pump her full of the rest of your magazine, the clicking bringing you back to reality
>She hasn't even budged from another step, her claws retract as she pulls one of her arms up
>A half-second too late and you'd be turned into bright pink and red mush, along with the destroyed wall she just punched through
>Goad her on, try to get any reaction out of her
>Nothing
>This time you're a little too slow on the uptake, one gargantuan claw-hand grabbing onto your ankle painfully and swinging you like a Raggedy Ann doll into the wooden floor
>You can see a familiar trickle of fluid down her muscled inner thigh
>Oh hell no, not like this!
>Pull out your 9mm and take aim, but she grabs the barrel as you fire, nicking her cheek only
>Now she's mad

>You're trying to gasp for air when her vise-like claw digits close around your neck and lift you out of the small crater she made with you just moments before
>You're mere inches away from her face, those cold grey irised eyes watching you, surrounded by panes of black sclera
>A familiar crackling emits from a radio on her left jacket breast, you'd recognize that laugh from anywhere
"Ah, Lambda-046, I see you've met our newest asset. We do hope you won't mind pro-actively participating in our next experiment."
>You MOTHERFUCKERS, YOU SET ME UP
"It's no use crying over spilled milk, 046. After all, what use is an experiment if we won't receive some valuable data from it? Other participants have enjoyed previous ones with our other lines of Assets and our investors are very, very intrigued by '00' here."
>Start kicking and flailing, your boots smacking into her abs futility, she's not even phased by your protestations
"00, do shut him up for me. If it's one thing I hate more is a Negative Nancy."
>If it's one thing you'll never get over is how the Zeds have a sort of 'tasteless taste' or 'stenchless stink' about them as she pulls you in for a kiss
>Her tongue finds yours, extorting it in a dental wrestling match. Combined with the shortness of breath from her nearly choking you, you can feel your body relaxing and the strength leaving it
>The bastard Egghead laughs again
"Very good, 00. You may proceed to Objective Two."
>Before you can even begin to contemplate what he means by that, she punches through an adjacent wall, letting you see the former Chief of Police's wide oaken desk
>Thankfully, he's not in at the moment or he'd have to see what's about to transpire
>She drops you onto the table with a painful whud, protracting one of her razor sharp claws and slicing you from neck to belly, pulling off your kevlar and uniform
>The cold air and her massive size do nothing to help your third leg wake up, until you see the faintest trace of a smile from her

>00 grabs her jacket, tearing it off, you can hear the protestations of the egghead on the other side of the radio transmission
>Guess there was a camera attached to the thing somewhere as well, serves you right you sack of white jacket wearing virgin shit
>When she climbs onto the table, your blood freezes in your veins for a moment
>There was a something like a horrifying shade or ghost transposed over her body, if only for a moment
>But that fear disappears when she takes your cock into her mouth, sucking on it softly
>She's not very good, but her quiet resolute approach wins over her lack of technique and you're hard and twitching in no time
>Before you can try and reason with her, she straddles you, looking down at your smaller form as if asking permission
>She never gets the response as she sits down on your cock, the fluids of her pussy letting you penetrate as far as your erection will allow
>It's not exactly pleasurable, and there's a dull pain in your pelvis, having to support her weight, but then she does something that surprises you
>She lifts off of you so that only the tip of your glans is buried inside of her, only to plunge back down
>You didn't think she had the capacity to seek self-pleasure, but she continues to surprise you by altering her posture and speed, trying to find a rhythm
>Her emotionless mask begins to crumble ever so slightly as her breathing increases in pace, your cock flying in and out of her
>She folds her body on top of yours, her heavy breasts smothering you as she bounces faster and faster on top of you
>It was either your imagination, or her pussy was getting warmer, softer
>As if it were sucking at you while she fucked you
>You can see an almost sad expression of her face as she nearly roars, the fleshly walls of her pussy clamping down on you
>Shit, she's making you come
>Grab her copious ass cheeks and hilt yourself to the best of your ability, filling her with your hot man-grit
>There's a groan of wood below you

>It's not the desk that gives way, but the floor beneath both of you
>You're a buck eighty-five after lunch, but you have no idea how heavy 00 is, or the desk for that matter
>But your mind is racing as you're sent crashing to the floor beneath yours, the desk falling away from both you and the massive Zed-woman
>She hugs you tight and switches your body positions so that she takes the brunt of the damage from the fall, retracting her claws so she won't slice you to ribbons in the process
>You're just laying there, on top of the new asset zombie that the egghead sent after you
>Your erection showing no inclination of going down, still buried inside of her
>Then you do something that surprises both of you
>Steal a kiss from her, her lips not having time to firm up this time before you give her a love peck
>Her response is wrapping her legs around your midriff, as if telling you to fuck her even more

---

>They never found you or what you found out later was designated as Project 00
>Even after the organization declared the city a massive failure and launched tactical nukes at it
>The Lilim and their benefactors were pissed, of course, but you hardly think that matters now
>You're a dead man, according to all records, completely off the map
>The snow is falling on your lodge, deep in the mountains outside of where the city used to stand
>Over time, you taught 00 how to speak again, and in turn she's grown more and more self-aware
>After some weeks of non-stop copulation, she began to manifest the spectral claws freely, and you're beginning to think that her jacket was repressing something inside of her
>But, the truth of the matter was
>You don't care, you will become the Adam to her Eve
>And you will create a new world for each other