Lethal Princesses
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
Bethany and Denise defeat an entire criminal army


AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters of Bethany and Denise are borrowed from author
Hero141. Many thanks to him for giving me the opportunity to use the beautiful
characters he has created.

AUTHOR'S NOTE II: This is sort of a prequel to my story "Bethany."

AUTHOR'S NOTE III: This story is very graphic and violent. You have been
warned.

* * *

The red Mercedes convertible pulled up to the dilapidated warehourse. The
woman behind the wheel looked at her companion. "Ready, Bethany?"

"Fuck yeah, Denise," grinned the woman in the passenger seat as both female
beauties got out of the vehicle. Both girls were hyper-muscular, massive,
highly trained bodybuilders with massive, bulging arms, huge thighs, round and
steel-hard asses, and armor-plated eight-pack abs. Despite their size and
muscularity, they were also very feminine, with natural and gravity-defying
double-D breasts, slim wasp waists that were thinner than the average man's
waist, long silky jet-black hair, and faces that were elegant,
high-cheekboned, and model-like.

Bethany's long black hair was perfectly coiffed and went down to the middle of
her back. She wore only a pair of skintight black workout shorts, a lacy black
bra that barely contained her huge double-D's, black leather gloves, and
knee-high black leather boots with razor-sharp six inch stiletto heels. Her
high heels brought her height to 6'9", and she weighed in at 315 pounds of
female muscle. Denise was even bigger at 365 pounds. The lethal seven inch
stiletto heels attached to her knee-high white boots brought her height to an
even seven feet. A long, sleeveless, elegant white dress and elbow-length
white silk gloves completed her outfit. Her dark hair was pulled up in a
fashionable bun. Both women had skin that was tanned a very deep and dark
brown. Denise's tan looked especially impressive in contrast to her all-white
outfit. Both girls also wore a large amount of expensive perfume, adding to
their femininity.

The two women were the primary enforcers and assassins for a massive crime
organization with influence around the world. They were on a mission to
ruthlessly eliminate all their competition. Right now, they were targeting the
empire of powerful drug lord Rex Morton. Bethany and Denise had already
assassinated many of Morton's mid-level henchmen and blown up several of his
distribution centers. Now, today, they had come to this warehouse to deal with
a weapons dealer named Bannister, who was one of the primary suppliers of guns
to the Morton organization. They were going to send a message to the
world...sell weapons to Rex Morton and face a gruesome death at the hands of a
pair of brutal muscle bitches.

Denise and Bethany nodded silently to each other, two ultra-skilled female
assassins on the hunt. Denise headed towards the front of the old warehouse
while Bethany slipped around back.

An armed guard stood by the back door, making frequent glances at his watch,
evidently eager for his shift to be over. With the grace, agility, and silence
of a cat, Bethany snuck up right behind him. "Hey, baby," she whispered in a
sultry voice.

The man whirled around in alarm. He saw just one thing - Bethany's gigantic,
leather-gloved fist coming at him at blinding speed - before the huge fist
smashed into his skull, instantly annihilating his entire head into an
explosion of blood, brain matter, and shards of bone. As the now headless body
slumped to the ground, Beth simply laughed.

The guard at the front of the building was smoking a cigarette, his weapon
carelessly placed on the ground beside him. Denise walked towards him, her
high heels clicking. As he looked up in surprise, she held her finger to her
lips, winked, and gave him a dazzling, seductive smile. Her gigantic upper
arms were more muscled and defined than any man's, and their tan looked an
extremely dark brown thanks to her white dress and white elbow-length silk
gloves. Her appearance had exactly the effect she desired. The man stupidly
forgot about the potential danger and began drooling over her perfect body, a
raging erection becoming visible in his pants.

Denise suddenly threw her massive body into a series of blindingly fast
cartwheels towards him, executing half a dozen cartwheels and covering the
full distance to her victim in less than one single second! She wore no
panties underneath her dress, and her wet cunt was visible as she was upside
down, though of course only for milliseconds each time, so fast were her
flips. Before the guard could reach for his gun or cry out for help, she
kicked him in the face, ripping the side of her long white dress. Her
razor-sharp seven inch stiletto high heel drove straight into the middle of
his forehead, causing his skull to explode in a shower of red and brown goo.
She giggled as the gory mess ran down her knee-high white boot.

Denise and Bethany met inside the warehouse. Each woman was now armed with a
Thompson submachine gun - weapons they had taken off the corpses of the men
they had killed. Bethany looked at Denise's torn dress.

"High kick, Beth," Denise explained.

Bethany grinned. "Ready for the next part?"

"Fuck yeah." Both girls clicked off the safeties on their guns.

In the main room of the warehouse, Bannister and fifteen of his henchmen were
at work, stacking boxes, checking inventory, and counting money. They were
caught completely by surprise when Bethany and Denise appeared, pointing
weapons at them and looking like perfectly trained female commandos.

"How the fuck did you..." began Bannister.

"Shut up," snarled Denise.

"Against the wall! All of you!" ordered Bethany. The men looked at each other
helplessly, then complied. She smirked as she looked at them, noticing that
several of them were sporting bulging erections underneath their pants.
Apparently they were turned on by girls with guns.

The two women looked at each other and nodded. Then they opened fire with
their machine guns, pumping their helpless male victims full of large holes.
They roared with laughter as they shredded male flesh into paste. Two men
tried to run. Bethany and Denise each killed one with single, perfectly aimed
shots to the backs of their skulls, showing off their expert markswomanship,
then resumed slaughtering the other men, continuous streams of lead flowing
from the barrels of their weapons until they clicked empty. Fifteen men lay
dead on the warehouse floor, blood everywhere. Only Bannister was still alive.
He wet his pants, knowing the girls had saved something special for him.

Denise held up her submachine gun, flexing her huge 27-inch biceps in the
process, and gave her Thompson a kiss, while Bethany puckered up her full lips
and blew the smoke away from the barrel of hers. "Guns are so much fun, aren't
they, Beth?" said Denise.

"Fuck yeah," grinned Bethany. "I love the smell of gunpowder and ventilated
body parts in the morning."

Bannister dropped to his knees. "Please!" he begged. "I'll give you anything
you want! Just don't kill me!"

Denise laughed. "Now why would we agree to that, when we could just kill you
and TAKE whatever we want? Anyway, we're not really here for something that
petty. We're here to send a message, that anyone who sells weapons to Rex
Morton's organization will die."

"Okay!" shrieked Bannister in a high-pitched voice. "I won't sell any more
weapons to Rex Morton, I swear!"

"Well, of course you won't," said Bethany. "You'll be dead."

At that, Bannister jumped up and began to run. Denise quickly and expertly
reloaded her machine gun and took aim, but Bethany said, "I've got this."

Bethany spun around, her long, black, perfectly coiffed hair whipping through
the air. Then she threw her body into a series of standing back handsprings in
the direction of the fleeing Bannister. Both Bethany and Denise could backflip
faster than any man could run, and she closed the distance between herself and
her victim steadily as she elegantly backflipped. Bethany executed one
perfect, lightning-fast handspring after another, with a grace and femininity
that would put any female Olympic gymnast to shame. She caught up to him
easily, crashing into him and knocking him down. Bending over his struggling
form, she viciously backhanded him across the face, stunning him and ending
his wriggling. She effortlessly picked up the 180-pound man with one hand
while flexing her enormous 27-inch biceps. She brought him back over to
Denise, putting him on the floor in between the two women.

Denise and Bethany embraced, pressing Bannister between them. The two huge,
harder-than-steel female bodies simply crushed him into pulp with a sickening
CRUNCH! When the two girls pulled apart, all that was left of their male
victim was bits and pieces of red-covered flesh and bone!

"Men are such fun toys," giggled Bethany.

"Too bad they break so easily!" laughed Denise.

The women finished their work quickly, Bethany collecting money in a bag,
while Denise wrote DON'T SELL WEAPONS TO REX MORTON on the warehouse floor in
Bannister's blood. Then both lethal princesses gathered up weapons and
ammunition and headed back out to their car.

* * *

TWO WEEKS LATER

Over 200 men had died at the lethal hands of Denise and Bethany. Some were
outright members of Rex Morton's crime organization, others were weapons
salesmen who hadn't gotten the message written in Bannister's blood quickly
enough. Most of the gun merchants had been shot to death by the girls with
their own products, some men being barely recognizable as human corpses after
having 40 or 50 bullets pumped into them. Morton's henchmen had usually been
decapitated, punched, crushed, or kicked to death by the two pretty ladies.

There was terror and chaos all because of the actions of two women. Some of
Morton's henchmen attempted to go into hiding. Bethany and Denise tracked down
and slaughtered them all. One man took out a full-page ad in the city
newspaper announcing that he was retiring from the crime organization. It did
him no good, as his headless corpse was found on the doorstep in front of his
house the next morning. The weapons dealers had become so terrified of the
girls that they had adopted a policy of opening fire on any vehicle that they
even suspected of belonging to the Morton organization.

Rex Morton himself, naturally, tried to fight back, but how can you fight what
you can't even see? As the body count grew and his profits shrank, he became
increasingly desperate. Finally, he got what he thought was a break. His
henchmen ambushed two men who were servants of Denise and Bethany. One servant
escaped, but the other was taken to Morton's headquarters for interrogation.
The captured servant was tortured until he told all he knew, then
unceremoniously executed and his corpse dumped in a junkyard.

The servant who had escaped drove to Bethany and Denise's mansion as fast as
he could in his battered old jalopy so he could warn his bosses. Little did he
know that his comrade who had been captured, tortured, and executed was
actually the lucky one...

Denise and Bethany were out by the pool. There was gymnastics equipment set up
outside next to the water. Bethany was on the balance beam, while Denise stood
on a large square mat, practicing her floor routine.

Bethany, wearing only a lacy white thong and knee-high black leather boots
(she wanted to make sure her breasts were tanned the same ultra-dark brown as
the rest of her body) executed a dazzling aerial cartwheel, her 315 pounds of
female muscle landing heavily but perfectly on the four-inch wide wooden beam.
She was capable of these perfect landings despite the 6-inch stiletto heels of
her boots! Her huge, firm, brown double-D breasts bounced as she flipped. She
then performed a standing back tuck and landed on the beam in a full 180
degree split. Pressing her massive body into a handstand, she spun around on
the beam, her huge wrists able to support her 315-pound weight easily, and
swung her legs apart in yet another full split as she continued her handstand
spin. Finally, she elegantly got back to her booted feet, gracefully walked to
the end of the beam, and performed a standing tumbling pass of a back
handspring followed by three consecutive split-leg layouts.

Denise wore a black skintight one-piece leotard that clearly displayed the
outline of her eight-pack abs and gravity-defying double-D tits. Knee-high
black leather boots with 7-inch high heels and long black leather gloves
completed her outfit. Standing at the corner of the mat, she hurled her huge
body into a powerful running tumbling pass. She did a roundoff, three whip
backs, two back handsprings, and a double pike flip. As soon as she landed,
she immediately spun around and went into a standing tumbling pass of two back
handsprings, four consecutive whip backs, and finishing with a double full
twisting layout. She landed perfectly despite her 7-inch stilettos.

The servant stood at the edge of the pool and cleared his throat nervously. He
had a raging erection underneath his pants as a result of watching the girls
do their gymnastics.

"What is it, Max?" demanded Denise as she addressed the servant. "This had
better be important if you're going to interrupt our gymnastics practice."

"Oh, it is, Mistress Denise," said Max. He explained what had happened.

Bethany and Denise looked at each other and winked. "Good work, Max," said
Bethany. She spun around and dismounted the balance beam by doing two standing
back handsprings into a double salto, landing neatly on the ground.

Meanwhile, Denise elegantly backflipped across the mat over to the servant.
"Yes," she said. "I think you deserve a reward. Take off your clothes."

"Yes, Mistress Denise," said Max, a dumb, goofy grin appearing on his homely
face. He quickly stripped, revealing a flabby, weak male body that looked
scrawny and pale next to the two muscular, tanned women.

Denise grabbed his boner and began giving him a rough hand job with her
leather-gloved fist. Although her long leather glove covered up most of her
forearm, her forearm muscles were so heavily developed that every movement she
made caused clearly visible rippling underneath the leather. "You like that,
baby?" she giggled.

"Ohh yesssss," moaned Max. "Your wrists are so big, your forearms are so
thick...no wonder your hand jobs are soooo amazing."

Denise laughed. "Yes, I have arms like a man. And you have weak, pathetic,
scrawny ones like a girl." Her tone suddenly became hostile as she stared into
his now-frightened eyes. Then she put all her strength into a quick squeeze,
instantly crushing his cock into paste with her superhuman wrist strength!

Max's mouth opened in a silent scream. The pain was so sudden and horrific
that he almost passed out. Denise bitch-slapped him several times across the
face, the rough leather of her gloves opening nasty cuts on his cheeks, to
bring him back to reality. When he could finally speak, he squeaked out,
"Why?"

"Because you're a fucking IDIOT!" snarled Bethany. "When they captured your
partner, you should have shot him to make sure he couldn't tell them anything!
Then you should have gone somewhere other than here in case you were
followed!" She pressed a red button and immediately six more servants came
out. "You five, go outside and make sure no one followed this retard here! And
you, go get my long black leather gloves," she ordered the sixth servant.

"Yes, Mistress Bethany," said the servants in unison. Max watched in terror as
they went off on their assignments, wishing he was one of the good ones,
wishing he was one of those who hadn't fucked up. He continued to quiver as
Bethany held out her huge, dark brown forearms with ultra-defined muscles and
the servant covered them up with the long black leather gloves.

"Now bring us a hammer and several big nails," Denise ordered. The servant
bowed submissively and hurried back into the mansion. At that, Max began
trembling harder than ever and looked around wildly, trying to see some avenue
of escape. Bethany looked at him and smirked.

"You can try to run if you want," she said. "But you've seen us in action.
We're so much faster than you it's not even funny. We wouldn't even have to
run to catch you. We could catch you just by doing back flips." Max, knowing
it was true, hung his head.

The servant reappeared with the hammer and nails. Denise grabbed Max and
carried him over to the wall of the mansion. She pinned him to the wall with
one gigantic arm, ignoring his helpless struggles. "Nail his hands and ankles
to the wall," she ordered the servant.

Max let out a high-pitched cry for mercy. Denise shut him up with a brutal
punch to his face with her free hand, breaking his jaw and knocking loose half
of his teeth.

"Yes, Mistress Denise," said the servant. He avoided looking into Max's
terrified eyes as he did his dirty work, but he couldn't block out Max's
screams of agony as the nails pierced his flesh.

"Good. You may go now," said Denise.

"Thank you, Mistress Denise," said the servant, glad that the muscle bitch's
wrath was focused on someone else. He bowed, picked up the hammer, and quickly
disappeared back into the mansion.

The uneven bars were set up close to the house. Denise grabbed the lower bar,
her massive forearm muscles dancing as if they had a life of their own as she
gripped, and used her upper-body strength to hoist herself up. The huge but
graceful woman began performing an uneven bars routine that would have made
any petite female Olympic gold-medal gymnast jealous. As she swung around and
around, she repeately kicked the helpless Max, her razor-sharp seven-inch
stiletto high heels ripping his body and creating dozens of gory, bloody
wounds. She brutally kicked him again and again, breaking his ribs and
mutilating his stomach and intestines. Both Denise and Bethany roared with
laughter as their male victim howled in pain and begged for mercy. Finally,
Denise finished her routine by releasing herself from the top bar and
executing a double salto in midair, landing perfectly on her high heels, her
365-pound bulk shaking the whole pool area and sloshing the water.

Bethany and Denise then took turns unleashing devastating uppercuts into Max's
already brutalized groin area with their leather-gloved fists. The
superhumanly powerful blows simply pulverized everything in their way. The
first hit by Bethany smashed both of his testicles into paste. Denise's first
blow then drove deep into his gut from below, shredding his intestines. One
horrific strike after another from the pretty girls broke his bones and
pulverized his internal organs. Finally, Bethany rammed her fist so deep into
her victim that she reached his heart. She grabbed it, yanked it out, crushed
it into bits with a single squeeze of her gigantic fist, threw the pieces onto
the ground, and stomped on them with her high heels.

A servant ran back to the pool area. "No sign that anybody followed the
idiot," he reported. "The other guys are still scanning the area."

"Good," said Bethany. "Now clean up that mess."

The servant looked at the gory remnants of Max and tried not to throw up.
"Yes, Mistress Bethany." He got to work cleaning up the pieces of the idiot's
corpse while Bethany and Denise headed back into the mansion.

* * *

"We don't let our servants know too many details about our operations," said
Denise. "For obvious reasons." She rolled her dark brown eyes, still pissed at
the stupidity of Max.

"Yes, but the captured servant knows where this mansion is and surely told
them," Bethany replied. "Even though he was tortured, he got off too easy. I
wish we could have tortured him to death for betraying us. Rex Morton's
interrogation team is a bunch of schoolgirls compared to us."

"You think Morton will try an assault on this place? It'd be suicide. We can
take out a small army just by ourselves, and we have hundreds of servants
ready to die for us. Plus we've killed so many of his men already."

"Maybe he will. Maybe he won't. But I think it's time to go straight for the
jugular. We've smashed his criminal empire into pieces. I say we assault his
headquarters tonight. Hit him before he can hit us."

"Bold and aggressive, Beth. I like it. So a two-woman assault, just you and me
versus Rex Morton and his army. The odds sound pretty fun. Anyway, bringing
men on the attack would just slow us down."

"Agreed. Come on, let's go over the details in the war room."

* * *

THAT NIGHT

The unmarked white van stopped a few blocks away from Rex Morton's
headquarters. A servant named Skip was driving. Bethany and Denise were in the
back of the van, fully dressed and armed for combat. Each girl was dressed in
a skintight black leather catsuit with plunging necklines to show off the
cleavage of their double-D's. Black leather gloves and knee-high black leather
boots with razor-sharp six-inch stiletto high heels completed their outfits.
Their long jet-black hair was pulled up into buns.

Bethany was armed with an M-14 sniper rifle, a machine pistol, and a short,
straight sword in the style of a Roman gladius. Denise carried an AK-47
assault rifle, a crossbow, and a long, elegant Japanese katana. Both women
also had night-vision goggles and walkie-talkies.

Skip waited by the van as the girls got out and readied their gear. He had an
erection in his jeans. Bethany, turning to him, noticed and snickered. "Is
that a Snickers bar in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

Skip blushed with embarrassment. "Sorry, Mistress Bethany. I'm just...just
attracted to girls with guns." Skip was a small and unathletic man, and quite
bad with guns from the few times he had tried using them. He had seen
firsthand what expert markswomen and warriors Bethany and Denise were and was
very turned on by it, his attraction to girls with guns a way of compensating
for his own ineptness with them.

Denise laughed. She and Bethany were both used to impressing men with their
weapons skills, whether they were with guns, bows, or swords. "Maybe we can
have some fun with him after the mission if it goes well. Now just wait here
with the van. Keep an eye on the front entrance and warn us if anyone comes.
Beth and I should be back in a couple of hours. That's about how long it
should take to exterminate a small army."

"Yes, Mistress Denise," said Skip. He climbed back into the van as Denise and
Bethany stalked off into the darkness.

* * *

Rex Morton's headquarters was an enormous, towering, gloomy old mansion built
vaguely in the style of a European castle. The mansion had been built for the
eccentric tastes of a 19th-century business tycoon. It had been passed down
from generation to generation until the last owner had died with no heirs.
Through his criminal connections, Morton had acquired the house from the bank.
Isolated and fortified, he had turned it into his headquarters, thinking that
it would be very safe and easy to defend. That may have been true with regard
to ordinary cops or criminals, but no place was safe from Bethany and Denise.

"How many men do you think are there?" whispered Bethany as the two muscle
chicks stood just out of sight of the front entrance.

"Maybe fifty. Maybe a hundred. Maybe more. Whatever it is, the number should
be a pretty even match for us," Denise laughed.

The front gate was well guarded. Two men with assault rifles stood on watch
just outside the gate, while two more men with shotguns were on guard just
inside it. Watching over them all was a twenty-foot guard tower with three men
up top. One carried a sniper rifle, another manned a communications center,
and the third stood behind a .50 caliber machine gun.

Bethany looked at her watch. "8:59," she whispered. "Should be just about
time."

Sure enough, a minute later, the radio man spoke into his device, "Front gate
reporting. All quiet, no problems. Next report in one hour. Front gate out."

Denise tried not to giggle. "Damn, they are predictable, just like you said,"
she whispered. "Now we have a whole hour before they'll know anything's wrong.
Let's do it."

Bethany attached a suppressor to her sniper rifle and took aim. Denise
silently drew her katana. The girls nodded at each other.

The radio man in the guard tower spoke to his companions. "Man, I sure could
go for a bacon cheeseburger and a cold beer right now. Don't see why Morton's
so paranoid, doubling up the guards. Sure, we've been getting hit all over the
city, but only a suicidal fool would dare attack THIS place."

"I'd be paranoid too if I were Morton," said the man with the sniper rifle.
"You never can be too careful." He turned to the third man. "How about you?
What do you think?"

The man standing behind the machine gun opened his mouth to speak, but before
any words could come out his head suddenly exploded in a fountain of red and
brown goo.

The radio man reached for a button. The other man raised his rifle, trying to
take aim. Neither made it. There were two more head explosions as Bethany's
high-powered bullets did their lethal work. She smirked at her markswomanship.
Three shots, three perfect kills.

Meanwhile, Denise had launched her massive body through the air in a front
tuck somersault as soon as Bethany had fired her first shot. Silent and
graceful as a lioness, she landed perfectly on her high heels, her sword
already ready in her gloved hands. Before the two men outside the gate could
even react, she had decapitated both of them with a single swift swing of her
weapon.

The last two men had heard only the faint, suppressed shots of Bethany's rifle
and were unsure of what was going on. They raised their shotguns nervously,
unable to find any targets.

One man's skull suddenly exploded, blood and brain matter flying everywhere.
Denise had shot him in the head with her crossbow. Simultaneously, Bethany
hurled her sword through the air. The blade lodged in the second man's chest
all the way up to the hilt, driving straight through his heart and sticking
out his back.

Denise smirked. "Too easy. I was hoping for more of a challenge."

"Maybe we'll find one later. Maybe at least a few of these pathetic worms can
at least pretend to fight like men." Bethany readied her sniper rifle. "Like
we planned. We go around the outside of the mansion, clearing as we go. I'll
go clockwise, you go counterclockwise, we meet at the back."

"Right. Good luck, Beth." The two sexy female bodybuilders gave each other a
quick kiss on the lips, then parted on their separate missions.

Denise took out a steel arrow from her quiver and loaded it into her crossbow.
The tips of her arrows each had several wickedly curved and sharp spikes,
ensuring the goriest of wounds with each hit. It was not long before she saw
her next victim. She calmly nailed him straight through the heart with a
perfectly aimed shot. He had never even seen it coming.

She found six more victims on her way, expertly killing them all with single
shots from her crossbow, alternating between making head and heart shots,
almost making a game of it, so superior was she to her male opponents.
Meanwhile, Bethany killed six victims of her own, her M-14 rifle again doing
its lethal work. Six shots, six kills.

The girls met at the back door and quickly filled each other in. "I'll go in
through the front door," whispered Denise. "We can kill them faster that way."

"Okay. Good luck," whispered Bethany. She looked at her watch as Denise
bounded off swiftly but silently, graceful even in her high heels. It was
9:10. In just ten minutes the muscle bitches had slaughtered twenty men
without breaking a sweat, and still had another fifty minutes before anyone
would notice that the guards hadn't checked in.

Denise opened the front door with a key she had taken off the corpse of one of
the men she had crossbow-shot to death. Two men were just inside, their backs
to her. She simply wrapped a huge arm around each of their necks, then gave a
quick jerk, breaking both of their necks.

Bethany unlocked the back door and slipped inside. In the first room, a man
was standing with his back to her, opening a liquor cabinet. He suddenly felt
a fiery pain in his chest. Looking down, he saw the tip of a sword sticking
out of his front side. Giggling, Bethany withdrew the blade from where she had
stabbed him in the back. His corpse collapsed to the floor, his heart pierced.

She heard voices in the next room. Slinking up to the door, she pressed her
ear against it and listened.

"How long does it take to get some booze..."

"If he's not back in a minute, I'm looking at his cards..."

"Dammit, I'll go check on him." Footsteps approached. Bethany quickly stepped
back and hid. The door opened and another man walked in. His mouth opened in
shock and fear as he saw his friend's bloody, dead body. Before any sound
could come out, however, Bethany swung her sword, decapitating him. She caught
the head in midair before it could fall.

In the next room, three men sat around a table covered with playing cards,
poker chips, and junk food. Suddenly, something flew through the air and
landed on the middle of the table. It was the decapitated head. The men looked
up in horror.

Bethany was standing there, her blood-soaked sword in her leather-gloved right
hand. "Hi, boys," she said sassily. "Mind if I cut in?"

One man stood up and opened his mouth to yell. Bethany hurled her sword at
him. The blade lodged right in his throat and he was dead before he hit the
floor. She then executed a lightning-fast front layout flip towards the
remaining men. Landing elegantly on her stiletto heels, she kicked one in the
face as he was trying to draw a gun. Her kick was so powerful that his head
simply flew clean off!

The last man knelt on the floor, begging for mercy. Showing him none, she
kneed him in the face, releasing a massive spray of blood, knocking him down,
and doing tremendous damage to his facial bones. She then did a handstand on
his throat, her 315-pound bulk easily crushing his windpipe.

Denise heard the sound of a television in a nearby room. The busty brunette
peeked inside. Five men were seated on couches and chairs, watching a
basketball game. She drew her katana and grinned.

They had numbers, and guns. She had surprise, and a sword. They stood no
chance. In less than three seconds she burst into the room and sliced all five
men to pieces with a dazzling, superhumanly fast combination of fluid sword
movements. She laughed at the scene of gore and death and licked the blood off
her katana.

Denise continued to make her way through the mansion. Rounding a corner, she
almost bumped into a man. Before he could react, she grabbed him, placed his
head between her huge, steel-hard thighs, and gave a single quick squeeze,
crushing his skull like a melon. Not even giving the body a second glance, she
kept going until she came to an enormous ballroom. Peeking inside, she noticed
a machine gun nest perched on a second-floor balcony that overlooked the
ballroom. Two guards manned the .50 caliber machine gun.

Meanwhile, Bethany, going through the other side of the mansion, came
face-to-face with an armed guard. She backflip kicked him before he could even
begin raising his gun, decapitating him with the force of her kick-flip.
Tossing his body and head into a closet, she continued on down the hall. She
heard whispering from a room as she passed by and peeked in to investigate.

A man and a woman were seated on a loveseat, making out. They looked up in
surprise as Bethany entered.

"You're...Beth...how did you...get in..." the man stammered, obviously
familiar with her reputation.

She simply smirked, then dashed across the room with blinding speed for
someone of her size, getting right in their faces before they could move.

The woman suddenly drew a gun from underneath her miniskirt. Bethany kicked it
away with a quick flick of her booted foot. Meanwhile, the man was cowering
like the chickenshit he was. She looked down at him in disgust.

"You pathetic, cowardly worm," she snarled. "Your girlfriend's more of a man
than you are. At least she tried to put up a fight. She earned a quick and
painless death." With that, Bethany picked up the woman by the throat with one
hand and used a flick of her enormous wrist to break her neck. Dropping her,
she turned back to her male victim. "You, on the other hand..." Bethany
suddenly performed an expertly aimed karate chop on him that destroyed his
vocal chords without killing him. "Now you won't be able to scream,
cocksucker," she sneered. She then punched him in the stomach, her huge,
leather-gloved fist ripping deep into his gut and creating a massive hole. She
yanked out his intestines, threw them on the floor, and left him to die a
horrible death.

* * *

In his office on the fourth floor of the enormous mansion, Rex Morton paced
back and forth nervously. "Call the front gate," he ordered his personal
assistant.

"But, sir, they check in every hour on the hour. It's only 9:37."

"Just do it. I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Yes, sir." The assistant bent over a radio set. "This is HQ calling Front
Gate. Come in, Front Gate." He looked up in shock and alarm. "No answer!"

"I KNEW it!" said Morton. "It's those two muscle bitches, Denise and Bethany.
Only they could be that good! Well, they may be good, but I'm better. Call in
all the men. Well, all that's left, anyway." Knowing that Bethany and Denise
had already had 37 minutes to do their lethal work unseen and uninterrupted,
Morton guessed (correctly) that many of his men were now dead. But he still
had dozens of other henchmen. There was no way two girls could defeat them now
that he knew they were coming... could they?

* * *

Denise found a back staircase, wanting to sneak up on the machine gun nest
from behind. Reaching the second floor landing, she suddenly stopped in
surprise. The hallway was criscrossed with red laser beams.

She grinned. Lasers couldn't stop someone with her physical abilities. She
raised her muscular arms, then performed a roundoff followed by a series of
back handsprings down the hall. The brawny brunette elegantly flick-flacked
safely through the laser maze, with a grace and speed that not even the best
Olympic gymnasts could match. She landed perfectly past the end of the lasers
on her high heels, then continued on her way to her target.

Denise snuck up on the two men in the machine gun nest from behind. "Hi,
boys," she said casually.

Two heads spun around in alarm. "How did you get through the lasers?" demanded
the first guard.

"I back flipped my way though them," she laughed.

"I thought that only worked in the movies," said the second man.

"No, it works in stories too," said Denise. She suddenly punched him in the
chest, her gigantic leather-gloved fist going all the way through his torso.
She withdrew it with a squishing sound, leaving a huge hole. She then grabbed
the other man before he could move and simply ripped him in half.

Finding a button, she pressed it, turning off the lasers, then executed a
double back salto off the platform, landing neatly on her booted feet on the
ballroom floor ten feet below. She called Bethany on her walkie-talkie and a
minute later Bethany joined Denise in the ballroom. A grand staircase was
located at the other end of the room. The two female assassins headed upstairs
together, weapons at the ready.

On the second floor, fifteen men, armed with various assault rifles,
submachine guns, and shotguns, suddenly emerged from the shadows. Denise and
Bethany, though surprised, showed no fear. They knew that there was always a
chance they would be discovered. The girls calmly raised their weapons and
both sides opened fire.

Denise mowed down four men with a single long burst from her AK-47 before they
could even raise their weapons. Meanwhile, Bethany was firing her machine
pistol in one hand and her M-14 in the other, her wrist and forearm strength
more than sufficient to allow her to fire the heavy rifle one-handed. A burst
from her machine pistol sent three men to the floor full of holes, while at
the same time headshots from her rifle took out two more guards. The brawny
female warriors had been so fast and accurate with their firearms skills that
nine of their opponents had died before they could even get a shot off!

A few bullets from a submachine gun struck Bethany in the shoulder. "Ow!" she
said, stung but more angry than really hurt. She swiftly fired her rifle,
drilling the shooter in the heart. Then a shotgun slug hit Denise in her
stomach. She grunted and stepped back slightly, but quickly recovered and
turned the shotgun-wielding thug's brains into goo with a quick burst from her
AK.

Only four men were left alive, but not for long. Their bullets missed as the
women danced gracefully from side to side, making themselves more difficult
targets. Denise shot a man in the head. A shot from Bethany's rifle made a
huge hole in another man's neck, nearly separating his head from his body.
Beth then emptied her machine pistol into the third man's chest, turning his
torso into Swiss cheese, while Denise used a well-aimed long burst from her
assault rifle to literally cut the last man in half.

The girls looked at the gory scene with satisfaction. Fifteen men lay dead
courtesy of the female assassins' markswomanship, with blood, guts, and body
parts everywhere. "You okay, Beth?" asked Denise.

Bethany looked at the wounds on her shoulder. Her muscle mass was too dense
for the bullets to have gone more than a few millimeters deep. "I'm fine.
About the same harm as bug bites. How about you, D?"

Denise ripped open her catsuit, exposing her tanned, brown, armor-plated
eight-pack abs. "Didn't penetrate at all. My abs are harder than steel armor.
Don't know what that guy was thinking trying to shoot me there."

Bethany laughed. "It would take a whole platoon of soldiers with concentrated
fire to even have a chance against our bodies."

"Like this?" came a voice. A dozen men suddenly appeared on the second floor,
pointing machine guns at the women. A dozen more machine gun wielding men
popped up from the third floor. And looking down from a fourth-floor balcony
was Rex Morton himself, accompanied by two bodyguards.

Morton spoke again. "Very impressive. But I have you now."

Denise and Bethany showed no signs of fear. This irritated Morton to no end.
He was hoping to get the girls trembling and begging for mercy. "Drop your
guns!" he shouted angrily.

Bethany and Denise dropped their guns, but still did not give any sign of
alarm or panic. "You think you're tough?" Morton growled. "Well, even you
won't be tough enough to handle fire from two dozen machine guns, so you'd
better start showing some respect!"

The female bodybuilders looked at each other and nodded. Denise spoke. "Well,
you'll have to hit us first." With that, both girls suddenly hurled their
massive bodies into lightning-fast but ultra-graceful tumbling passes,
elegantly backflipping towards the gunmen. The men opened fire, but their
female opponents were so blindingly fast that most of the bullets missed, the
few rounds that found their mark doing only minor damage to the girls'
steel-hard arm and leg muscles and not even slowing them down.

Denise backflipped straight at the group of men on the second floor. At the
end of her series of backflips, she executed a triple full twisting layout,
kicking three men in the head with her razor-sharp high heels as she twist
flipped and splitting their skulls wide open. Blood, brain matter, and pieces
of skull bone flew everywhere. Drawing her katana as she rotated through her
flip, she landed perfectly on her feet and decapitated three more men before
they even knew what was happening.

Meanwhile, Bethany backflipped across the room, then finished her tumbling run
with an incredibly high and powerful double salto that propelled her huge body
high into the air and right up to the third floor balcony. She landed right on
two men, crushing their skulls to pulp underneath her high-heeled boots.
Extracting her stilettos with a squishing sound, she drew her sword and
decapitated the nearest man, then hurled his headless corpse at the mass of
other guards, knocking most of them down.

Five of the six men left on the second floor pointed their guns at Denise and
opened fire. She expertly deflected the bullets with her katana as she charged
them with incredible speed. The sixth man threw down his weapon and began
running away like a coward. Reaching her targets, Denise sliced and diced the
five men into pieces with several fast, fluid swings of her sword. She then
picked up one of the dead men's machine guns, took aim, and fired it
one-handed at the running man, pumping dozens of bullets into him and
shredding his flesh into paste.

Rex Morton couldn't believe it. How could two young women with swords defeat
an entire gang of men armed with automatic weapons? Knowing he had lost, there
was nothing left but to flee. "Come on, let's go," he said to his two
bodyguards. "Luckily I called the helicopter earlier."

Bethany chopped one man in half at the waist and slashed another's throat wide
open. Another guard dropped his gun and tried to surrender, raising his hands.
She just laughed, positioned her sword underneath his crotch, and jerked it
upwards, slicing him in half vertically from groin to head. The men she had
knocked down earlier were starting to get up. She cartwheeled to the nearest
one, cut off his gun arm, and yanked the machine gun out of the severed arm's
grip. Firing the machine gun one-handed, she pumped the remaining five men
full of holes.

Sexy Bethany turned to the one-armed man, who was standing there in shock, his
mouth open in a silent scream. Blood poured like a fountain out of the hole
where his arm had been. "Now that's what I call disarming a man!" she laughed.
She kicked him in the chest. Her booted foot went all the way through his
torso. She withdrew it with a squishing sound, revealing a huge boot-shaped
hole in his chest. For the coup de grace, she backflip kicked his head off.

Denise gracefully backflipped onto the third-floor balcony, landing next to
her companion. "How many is that now?"

"I lost count a while ago," laughed Bethany.

Suddenly, the distinctive sound of a helicopter was heard. The girls looked at
each other and nodded. Denise raced upstairs to the fourth floor. Bethany
looked down at the machine gun in her hand and grinned wickedly.

Rex Morton, his personal assistant, and his two bodyguards were gathered in
Morton's office on the fourth floor. They were the only men left alive in the
mansion. The crime boss smiled with relief as he saw his helicopter
approaching. "We'll fly to the secret hideout, gather whatever men we have
left, and figure things out from there," he declared. "Come on, let's get up
to the helipad on the roof."

At that moment, the helicopter exploded in a spectacular orange fireball.
"WHAT?!" screamed Morton. "How..."

One floor below, Bethany roared with laughter as she saw the results of her
handiwork. The perfectly aimed shot she had fired from her machine gun out the
third-floor window had nailed the chopper right in the gas tank. She kissed
the still-smoking barrel of her weapon.

"Never mind that!" said one of the bodyguards. "Now we use the secret tunnel.
That's why we spent half a million dollars having it made." He tugged a book
on a shelf and a hidden panel opened. Grabbing his boss, the bodyguard carried
him into the tunnel. The second bodyguard followed them. Morton's assistant
was last. Just before he reached the entrance, there was a whizzing sound
followed by a sudden, horrific pain in his right leg. Looking down, he saw
that he had been shot with an arrow. A second later, he collapsed to the
floor.

The door to the secret tunnel swung shut with a creak. There came the clicking
sound of high heels on a wooden floor. Denise stood there, holding her
crossbow. The helpless man began trembling in horror.

Bethany appeared next to Denise. "The others are gone," said Denise. "But not
to worry. This prick will tell us where they are, along with everything else
we need to know."

Waiting outside in the van, Skip heard screams in the distance. They were
clearly far away, but he could still hear the pure, icy terror and agony in
the cries. He shivered.

About fifteen minutes later, Bethany and Denise silently glided out of the
darkness, startling him. Both women were covered in blood and something that
looked like brain matter. "Everything good here?" asked Bethany.

"Yes, Mistress," said Skip. "Um...did it...uh...go well with you too?"

"Extremely," laughed Denise. "Morton escaped, but we slaughtered pretty much
his entire army, and we know where he is. Now grab some gasoline and help us."

The three of them splashed gasoline on the walls of the mansion until Bethany
said, "All right, I think that's good enough."

Denise loaded an arrow into her crossbow. Bethany took out a cigarette lighter
and lit the arrow's tip. Then Denise took aim and fired, setting the mansion
ablaze. The big wooden house burned brightly and quickly.

"Let's go," said Denise. The three of them headed back to the van. Skip
stopped suddenly when he heard distant screams, the same soulless cries of
agony and pure horror he had heard earlier.

"We didn't quite kill that guy after we were through interrogating him,"
smirked Bethany. "We figured we'd let the fire finish him off." Both brawny
brunettes roared with laughter, while Skip shivered again and gave thanks that
the muscle bitches were on his side...for now.

THE END

AUTHOR'S NOTE IV: If you want to see Rex Morton meet his gruesome end, read my
story "Bethany."

Comments, compliments, and constructive criticism encouraged.

silverstar222b@yahoo.com