Sheila, Part Two
by Mr. Squish
Or, where the muscle grows and the population shrinks


Please send any feedback or thoughts to mistersquish@yahoo.com. Hope you

likey.

Sheila ignored the rumbling sound; it meant nothing to her at the moment. She
was in a blood fury and the intense smell of fear surrounding her drove her to
punish more. She could taste the pain in her mouth, how she longed for it. The
first boats had been fun, but really what lay ahead, the mere possibility of
crushing entire cities with the monstrous might of her growing muscles kept
her in a continuous high.

Sheila was closing the distance on the fleeing boats, their small engines
giving their all to outrun her, but she realized she could close the distance
even faster another way.

The policemen had no idea what they had gotten themselves into when they
answered the marina's call. Now they knew and they wanted no more. Their
weapons had no effect on the rampaging she-hulk and she showed no mercy in her
onslaught. Her eyes burned with a frightening fury and her muscles were more
powerful than anything these cops had seen before. She had torn through the
bulk of their protective fleet in minutes and she wasn't at all tired. She
wasn't going to stop until she had sunk them all, killed everything in her
sight. The men knew this and tried to drive her out to sea where maybe the air
force or the navy might be able to bring her down with their potent weaponry.
This was their plan anyway. Behind them a behemoth strode ever closer, coated
with a sheen of seawater, sweat and blood.

Suddenly a ray of hope crackled through over the radio, "Attention all units,
give way to the air support, break off engagement, help is on the way." Little
did the operator know that the engagement had been broken by the one party
already, the other, though, was having difficulty letting go. The men,
momentarily relieved, turned their attention back to the terror at hand, but
she had gone. Disappeared, a bubbly froth indicating her aborted wake was all
that remained.

Sheila had seen the planes, still miles away in the distance; her eyesight too
had intensified. They looked to be well-armed, and as powerful as Sheila felt,
she was incredibly cunning, and used her lethal mind to its fullest advantage.
She was no mindless beast, but easily the most formidable creature on the face
of the earth. She had slid underwater, was all, under the boats and the weak,
frightened police. She had let her powerful arms and legs propel her through
the water far faster than if she had run. She was now ahead of the police and
their crap boats.

She swam and swam until she was near the farther shore, having changed course
away from the deep sea and certain ambush. The cool salt water felt good, it
both soothed and charged her muscles; the sea grit washed away lot of the
sweat and gore that had built up over her several massacres. Sheila popped her
head up, a large and stunning periscope, and surveyed the territory. The
police boats were now miles and miles away, chugging toward her, steadily,
though they didn't know it. The attack planes had soared off beyond into the
far distance, tracking her, assuming that she had either fled or swam off to
sea.

Something brushed against her foot, her legs tensed and she ducked down under
the waves she had stirred up to take a look. It was a battered husk of a
submarine, long abandoned. The torrent below the water her powerful body had
kicked up must have broken it loose. Sheila grabbed it, it felt cold and
heavy, a perfect gift for the warrior goddess, a new weapon with which to
carry on her battle. Her fists were deadly enough, but a titanium club nearly
fifty feet in length would be a thing of near perfect destruction, especially
when being swung by the two rippling battle beasts she called arms. She left
it be for the moment. Sinking it where she could find it easily enough.

All she needed to do was wait. She heard the feeble pull of their engines
against the strong current, though they looked as though they should be speedy
and tough, the police cutters were anything but, especially up against a force
as savage and quick as Sheila. She swam deliberately under the rough water
toward the meager fleet, quietly and confidently until she was beneath them.
Then she rose deliberately, her juggernaut fists punched through the bottom of
one boat, its shattered corpse being peeled apart mercilessly by her powerful
arms as she reached her full height, a hundred and twenty feet tall. Chest
high in the water, her powerful upper body shredded the first boat, bits of it
rained on the other panicked craft. Again the police opened fire with
everything they had. Bullets pounded Sheila from every direction. They tickled
her steely hide, caused her insides to tremble with pleasure.

Sheila laughed; the laugh of a bully, of a sadist, of a powerhouse that cannot
be stopped. "You puny, puny, men. My fists turn you to jelly. My arms crush
your craft like little toys. My legs tear through steel cables like
shoestrings. Who are you to stop me? You and these pussy little peashooters?,"
Sheila waded to the nearest boat, bouncing her pecs in powerful delight as the
little bullets bounced off harmlessly. She reached out and grabbed the large
machine gun turret, ripping it free with one mighty pull. She battered it
against her barrel chest, as if punishing herself for being so naughty. With
each blow, the gun tore and crumpled and fell to pieces. She tossed the
remaining scraps into the foam below. "Weak, puny, inferior, impotent,
harmless. You want to see some real guns, get a load of these." Sheila blasted
an insane double biceps pose, the muscles peaking like never before. "This is
the sort of damage real guns can do." She kissed her gorgeously engorged right
python, her tongue dancing across its titanic peak, "Show them how strong,
baby." She extended her arms wide and pulled the police boat against her
chest. Men ran from the deck, jumping overboard. Sheila sucked in deeply
pulling one of the men through the air toward her luscious lips. She opened
her mouth deeply and let him fall in. He fought, punching at her tongue. She
chewed him up, savouring his struggle and salty taste. She swallowed his pulpy
remains, enjoying the feeling of him sliding down her throat.

Sheila looked down at the boat in her formidable grasp. She smiled wickedly,
as if surveying an over-stuffed dessert platter, blood dribbling from her
chin. Her thick sensual tongue darted out, licked her lips dry, then settled
back inside to wait. The other men onboard did their best to flee, but
Sheila's tongue was fast, shooting out and wrapping up the deserters with
frightening accuracy. She enjoyed each and every taste, every struggling
mouthful. The flavor of their pain was delicious and Sheila was quickly
becoming a gourmet. Before she knew it, she had finished off the crew. All
that remained was their stupid, flimsy boat.

Sheila flexed her arms and began to crush it like an accordion. She pushed her
hands together as the boat offered what little resistance it could, but its
frame was as helpless as a watermelon trying to stop the progress of charging
rhinos. Within moments, it exploded into a million pieces. Sheila was left
with fragments in her fists, which she lightly brushed clean against her
rippling chest. Only two boats remained, though many of the policemen were
floundering about in the water. The boats and their lack of firepower didn't
interest her, not nearly as much as this pool of appetizers. With each bite,
their weak little lives fed her power. Sheila gorged, grabbing the men in her
massive fists and shoving them into her blood-lusty maw. "Mmm, mmm, mmm, man
meat, is there anything tastier?" She felt herself growing more with each man
morsel. She was lost in a feeding frenzy when she realized that the other two
boats were getting away. Well, they were trying to, anyway.

Sheila filled her lungs with air and disappeared beneath the waves. She
reappeared a minute later directly in the escaping boats' paths. They tried to
make a hard turn to avoid her mountainous torso but failed, crashing hard into
her eye-popping breasts, splitting their bows; the men who fell into the water
were instantly scooped up and devoured. The crippled boats attempted to
retreat, pushing their engines into a full reverse. Sheila caught one, before
it got very far, again holding it lengthwise across the girth of her bulky
chest. Her chest and mouth glistened in the moonlight, stained red with blood.
She feasted further on the remains of the wrecked boat's crew, before
executing a breathtaking display of her growing strength, folding the steel
and wood boat in half, then raising it over her head and slamming it down on
the other boat, cleaving its victim cleanly in two. She dropped the leftover
boat carcass and fished the last of the men from the sea.

The power coursing through her naked and unstoppable frame was driving her,
fueling her need for more. She was a true predator, primal, feral and fine.
Her reflection in the water under the vibrant moonlight was stunning. She
stood marveling at what she had become: a warrior goddess, a beautiful woman
in Herculean form. Though her height didn't seem to have changed, it was clear
that she had become even denser and more awesome than just hours earlier. Her
neck was thicker, her waist too. Maybe it was the sudden intake of red meat,
who knows?

Sheila called out as she strode to the shore, "Who's gonna stop me? Not these
pathetic bitches, I ripped them apart with my bare hands." She stopped, looked
around, the world was still as if holding its breath collectively, waiting to
see what would happen next. She hit some poses, feeling the sexy muscle of her
brobdignagian body. "I am power! You are my toys and my playthings! I will do
what I want! Crush what I want! Eat who I want! Your walls cannot contain me.
Your guns cannot stop me. I will destroy! I will feed! I will rule! You will
serve me! I am your goddess! You are my maggots! I will make you weep at my
very sight!"

Sheila inhaled fully. Looked at the shore beckoning her, twinkling
flirtatiously. It was so close she could taste it. She flexed her traps
menacingly, feeling how tantalizingly thick they had become. The water lapped
at her waist, pouring in and out of her mound, making her nipples pop, the
night breeze keeping them aroused. She slapped at her iron-plated abs and her
full belly. The sound echoed through the night. Sheila the massive, Sheila the
mountain of muscular fury, Sheila the unstoppable was coming and she didn't
care who knew it.

End of Part Two