The Facility, Part Two by Seldom Felicia kills four in the arena, more out of it. Blood, gore, sex, violence, insanity, death scissors, muscles. If it ain't yer thing, don't read it. If you do read it, and like it, gratify my writer's ego and send me e-mails of praise. If you don't like, tell me what you think I could have made better. I value your suggestions, really. They'll be in my pile of "Things to do for the coming millennium." If you like my general style of writing, send me requests and I might actually write them up. I'm sorry, Kandor, I'm afraid I borrow a lot of ideas and ter minology from you, especially your story about Chrissy (see CHRISSY BORED IS CHRISSY DEADLY). ------------------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------- FELICIA -- Feminine Elite Licensed Indestructible Controlled (not yet!) Ideal Agent Felicia stalked over to the plexiglass partition slowly and fluidly, every huge striated muscle defined in different positions along her walk. She had grown significantly since mashing poor Peter into a pulpy mass of deceased bone and tissue. Now standing at five-eight, two hundred and fifty pounds, her muscles somehow still seemed to fit her big-boned, broad body. The muscles were much denser than on a normal human, of course, for Felicia's genetically engineered body was programmed to be intensely powerful by combining density with huge muscular growth. Bending her head forward, she looked through her brown bangs at the scientist standing at the control console. Monitors showed Felicia's various vital signs, along with the vital signs of five males Felicia had yet to meet, as shown by the fact that they were still alive. Digital lights blinked on and off seemingly at random. The scientist, Doug Forster, turned around and glanced at Felicia. She smiled slowly, revealing even white teeth. He smiled back briefly and turned around to adjust more controls. "Hmm, now, Felicia, it appears that the capture team has brought back five fine specimens for you," he said. "Four recently released violent criminals, all over six feet tall, well-built. One slightly smaller than average, underdeveloped, five-foot seven-inch tall accountant. He will be your target. You may dispose of him last, if you wish. He will not be armed. The four 'bodyguards' will each carry a modified Uzi full machine gun, a semi-automatic Beretta pistol, and a survival knife strapped to their socks. Only the target need be terminated, the rest you may incapacitate at your discretion." He snorted derisively. "Not that you've ever left anyone alive in the arena. Hey now, is that really necessary? You should be paying better attention to your instructions." This last was directed at Felicia as she began to rub her full, voluptuous body up against the plexiglass partition. Her enormously developed, firm breasts flattened slightly under the weight of her body, the nipples becoming larger, harder, and more disco lored. Her lips pressed firmly into the glass. Her tongue darted out playfully against it, then flattened against it in a long, wet streak as she dragged her mouth along the glass. "Why don't you come in here and stop me?" she demanded, then stuck her tongue out again. "Really, now," Doug muttered disapprovingly. Pressing more firmly into the glass, she rotated her hips impressively to bring her hairy wet crotch fully against it, her mound leaving sticky streaks across the transparent surface. Without even fingering herself, she managed to rub against the glass harder and harder, leaving more creamy streaks across a wider area. She stretched along the glass, huge sinewy muscles crackling over heavy bones. Her grinding became more insistent, her lips and tongue and pussy practically attacking the partition and bulging it inward, though not nearly to its breaking point. Finally, her rotating, grinding, and streaking reached a small orgasmic climax. Hot cream pumped out of her pussy still pressed firmly against the glass. She moaned softly, then smiled. She stretched her thick arms far over her naked body, arching her back and making her huge breasts stand out even farther. Doug smiled amusedly at this erotic display, then grabbed some Windex and a roll of paper towels, opening the door separating the two sides of the room. Stepping toward Felicia and the heavily streaked glass, he prepared to wipe her viscous cream and slimy saliva off the plexiglass. She caught his hand as it reached towards the soiled spots. Quickly, she tore the roll and bottle out of his hands and tossed them to the far corner. Her brawny arms engulfed his body, easily drawing it close to hers until her solid breasts and erect nippl es dug painfully into his chest. Her insanely powerful, rippling thighs gently surrounded his middle, easily pushing her big pussy into his limp crotch, staining the front of his lab coat with hot cream. Her massive biceps and vascular forearms could easily crush his puny body to a splintered, bloody pulp against her ridged abdomen and padded chest. Yet he merely stood there with apparent unconcern and waited for her to loosen her bearhug somewhat. He brought his hands up to her nipples and started massaging them, while leaning forward to briefly kiss her sweet red lips. "This display gets you nowhere, you realize, and only delays the time until you enter the arena," he said. "I'm sorry, Felicia, but I have a wife, and children, and a dog, and while she may not be as attractive as you to some people (my wife, I mean), she's as beautiful a woman as I need. So please, let me go, let me clean this up, let's get this exercise over with so you can go back to masturbating in your room and I can go home." She looked vaguely disappointed, but quickly brightened and came back with a comment of her own. "Mm-hmm. Mr. Noble, can't-wait-to-get-home- to-my-family and be loyal and loving and caring. Very admirable. You're sick, you know that? You're about to let me into a room where I will brutally torture and kill five men, one innocent, for my own amusement and your precious CIA training. And yet here you talk to me of getting our job done and being faithful to your pretty wife. Well, so be it." She kissed him, more forcefully than he had kissed her, before releasing him. "But first I get to have a little fun." She smiled evilly. Before he could see what was coming, she had grabbed his head in a unique hold using her left arm. Her swelled bicep pressed hard into the top of his head, his ear nestled in the crook of her elbow, while her forearm pressed gently against his lower jaw under his chin. "So, clean it, Doug. Lick it up!" she laughed. To let him know she was serious, she flexed her arm until she felt his jaw about to crack under the pressure. Tears of pain welled up in his eyes. She gave a short laugh to punctuate her evil smile and pressed his face hard against her spunk. He licked it, feebly at first, then with increasing vigor as he realized that this was the only way he could stop this. She brought his face all over the area her crotch had smeared, letting him lick it up but occassionally rubbing his face in it. Sweat gleaned on Felicia's vascular, massively pumped body and she began to pant slightly as she felt the familiar pleasure of dominating a man set in. Harder and harder she pressed his face into the glass, threatening to break his nose if she pushed more even slightly. He swallowed and licked, licked and swallowed her sweet cum until the glass was streaked only by their saliva. "Good enough," she said, and released him. "God you're a mess. Here, let me help you with that." She licked all the cum she had smeared on his face in one fluid, dripping wet motion. Slightly dazed, he walked back into the control room. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------- "Thirty seconds until training level four initiation," the harsh voice grated over the loudspeaker. The five men all had different reactions to their current situation. Most were mildly afraid yet slightly curious. All but the accountant were hardened killers, and wielded the Uzis with at least familiarity, if not practiced ease. They had suddenly awakened in this dirt-floored, rather small arena with a loudspeaker telling them that their lives depended on protecting the accountant. That had been three minutes ago. Two of them had debated just shooting the little man and trying to bust out of this weird place, but the other two quickly convinced them that it might be smarter to play along until they figured out what the hell was going on. As for the accountant, he just glanced from one of the ex-convicts to the other with glazed and frightened eyes. To his credit, he hadn't fainted, but he did look like a timid, caged animal. To their great surprise, he had asked the largest convict to give him a Beretta and survival knife. "I know a little about weapons," he said bashfully. "Well, whaddaya know," the largest had said with a grin, "here you go. I hope you know what you're doing." He shook his head and tossed over the requested weapons, which the small man had picked up and checked briefly. The largest criminal was impressed. "I guess you do," was all he said. Now, the grin was gone, replaced by a taut, watchful expectation as they looked for any openings into the room. "Ten seconds to training level four initiation. Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, initiate training level four. Have a nice day!" A door opened on the side of the arena to the right of the men and a large object streaked out of it. Startled, the ex-convicts took a little while to aim their automatic weapons. The muscle-bound, beautiful fury pounced on the first man before he had time to pull the trigger. Snap! went his neck as she bent it around nearly in a complete circle with her bare hands. His lifeless body fell to the ground with a thud. Similarly, the second man met his demise before pulling the trigger. This time, she did not bother snapping his neck. She merely punched him with one massive paw. His jaw instantly broke and her fist traveled through his brain-pan, quickly mashing his brains against the opposite side of his skull. His body flew twenty feet before crashing into the opposite wall and sliding down, leaving a clear wet trail streaked with red. By this time the other two had regained enough sense to begin shooting. Unfortunately, one of the ex-convicts was between the largest man and Felicia. When the huge man released his rain of lead death upon Felicia, it instead ended in the torso of the third man to die, nearly ripping him in half. He continued firing brief rounds at her, but somehow she dodged with a swiftness only thought to belong to NFL linemen. Soon, she was upon him as well, and quickly disarmed him, bending the barrel of the Uzi in half and tossing it away. Now that all the weapons were disposed of she could move more slowly, and did, pushing up against the big man and rubbing her chest up and down his body. He looked down appreciatively at her big chest, for a moment forgetting his fear. Now this was a real woman! He gazed admiringly at her rippling biceps, now preparing to grab his barrel chest in a bearhug. He had always approved of large women, bedding big-breasted six-foot tall Scandinavian women when he could. But this deadly ball of fire, here was a woman to be admired and desired! Felicia jerked up in pain as a spasm of fire shot up her left shoulder. The accountant! But he wasn't supposed to be armed! No matter, she had gotten clumsy and forgotten about him, storing him away under "to do later". Clearly, he was armed, and amazingly had remained cool enough to fire a round that nearly succeeded in piercing her heart. More shots rang out from the pistol, but already Felicia was on the move. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, she spun, dodged, whirled, and finally pounced on the panicking little man. His finger continued to pull the Beretta's trigger even after all the ammunition had run out. His fear was evident in his eyes and hard breathing as she came upon him, lightning-fast. But he was almost as fast and a lot more quick-witted! He drew the knife from his sock with a smooth, practiced motion almost faster than the human eye can track. Felicia, however, as has been noted, is not quite human. She saw the knife as it came to bear on her leaping form. Even so, she narrowly avoided having her neck impaled on its point, managing to twist away in a fraction of a second so small any other life-form would have missed. The knife edge flashed by the side of her neck, missing by a hair- breadth. Her heavy body slammed into the accountant's light one, throwing them both hard to the solid-packed dirt floor. Stretched out on the wriggling, futilely struggling little man, she smiled admiringly down at him. "Holy shit, you're a brave mother fucker, ain't you?" she breathed. Confiscating the knife from his weak grip, she plunged it into the dirt between his legs not a centimeter below his crotch. "I have unfinished business, little man, but I'll deal with you later." Leaking blood from the shoulder, but otherwise unhurt, Felicia got up and ran to the dazed large ex-convict. He smiled at her, and, chuckling, she smiled back. "Like what you see?" she asked. "Hell yes!" he responded. "You're fuckin' gorgeous! But, uh, what's with the killing and weird room and shit?" He felt around her huge muscles, running his hands along the velvet skin, finally finding the bullet wound in her shoulder. She gasped a bit as he touched that. "Ooh, sorry love, looks like you've been a bit winged." "Yeah, genius," she said. His smile got broader. She decided she rather liked this one. His hand gently massaged the huge muscles around the wound, bringing down the fiery pain a bit. "Mmm," she moaned, "what's a nice convicted killer like you doing in a place like this?" "I dunno," he said. "One moment, I'm all set to goin' about the serious business of being an honest citizen, the next I'm here with Franco, the rapist, son of a bitch! And Skippy, veteran of an inner-city gang; not to mention that two-bit thief turned cold -blooded killer 'Jack the Kevorkian'. And now you? What the hell is going on?" "If you live, I'll explain it to you," she promised. "Now, you go and sit like a good little boy, I have to take care of the bravest man I've ever met." His eyebrows raised, he let her go from between his arms. He watched, puzzled, as she stalked over to w here the accountant lay shaking, his adrenalin spent. "Looks like I've got a bit of a problem," she said. "I don't really want to kill you, hell, I admire you, but I don't think I'll lose too much sleep over it. No problem!" She dropped down on him, smothering his face in her huge chest. Even through his shock, he could feel himself amazingly attracted to this gigantic, vascular woman! His cock grew, becoming evident even through his pants, pressing hard against her massive, pumped thigh. She rolled over, scooping his body up in her steel thighs and rubbing his face harder into her breasts. Her nipples tore gouges into his cheeks as she became ever more aroused. Pheromones and sweat started pouring out of her skin, making her flush and pant. Her tongue slithered over the top of his head, slicking back his hair. His erection grew more prominent, and she tore off his pants and underwear with her free hand. She slid his pelvis between her thighs and engulfed his cock in her gently pulsing pussy. Her hand pressed harder into the back of his skull, mashing his bloody face into her firm breast. A sickening crack indicated the dislocation of his jaw, which she heard with a squeal of delight. His nose broke under the pressure and began bleeding profusely. She rubbed his dislocated, swollen jaw over her other breast, smearing blood. Meanwhile, her inner thighs humped him deeper into him, beginning to grind his pelvis against her hairy bush. Her diamond-cut calves wrapped around to the back, pressing firmly into his butt, forcing him deeper into her cunt. Her reverie was stopped by the feel of cold steel on her neck. She opened her eyes to see the huge man standing over her. "Sorry, gorgeous, you can do that to me all you want, but it looks like you're going to snap him like a twig if this keeps up. I can't let you do it, even if you are the most beautiful woman I've ever met." "You pathetic fool," she growled. "I have to kill him, and nothing you can do could stop me. You should have stayed where I told you to." Continuing to mash the accountant against her dripping pussy, she released his skull from her crushing grip. Her hand grabbed the big man by his wrist, easily forcing the knife away from her throat. There was no surprise in his eyes, indicating that he already knew and accepted that she was far stronger than he. No false bravado or machismo there! Merely self-confidence. He must have known that he couldn't stop Felicia, but needed to try to help the poor little man anyway. Felicia's other hand closed around his throat, constricting until his air passages were completely cut off. He clutched futilely at her forearm, trying to escape her deadly grasp. He struggled valiantly, but gradually became weaker until he finally passed out. She held the grip until he turned blue, then released him by tossing him a few feet as if he were no lighter than a rag doll. She could see by the rise and fall of his chest that he could still breathe, weakly. She brought her concentration to the little man stirring against her chest, his pelvic bones emanating sickening grinding noises from her crotch. He was close to release; she could feel his orgasm swelling quickly up his cock. Smiling, she clamped down on his penis with unbelievable force, mashing his cock to a bloody pulp and trapping the load he was about to shoot inside his own cock. In spite of his delirium he screamed terrifyingly and came to full attention, crying against her bloody, huge, firm breasts. She unlocked her legs from around him and stood up, bringing him up against her with one meaty paw. She supported him with her left arm across his back, holding him up against her wide, muscle-bound body, his face buried in her deep cleavage. Felicia brought her right hand down to her dripping cunt, fingering herself briefly to increase the flow of cream. She sniffed her soaking fist approvingly and licked. Extending one long, slime-dripping index finger, she tilted his face up and kissed him d eeply. His dislocated jaw moved painfully as her lips moved against his, her tongue sliding deep down his throat until he could no longer breathe. Extracting her tongue and breaking off the painful kiss, she slammed the dripping index finger far into his mouth, disregarding his screams and swollen jaw. She pumped the finger in and out, finally bringing her middle and ring fingers into play, finger-fucking his bruised and battered jaw. His pain and screams of anguish increased her horniness, and hot cream slithered down her ropey abductor muscles. She pulsed her hand faster and deeper until her fingers started hitting against the back of his throat, bruising and bloodying it easily. Not wanting him to drown in his own blood before she was done with him, she stopped. She refilled her right hand with her own sopping cunt cream and brought her hand around to his butt. She slammed her hand far into his asshole, the cream lubricating it slightly. She buried her fist up his rectum and began twisting it around, moaning to his pained screams vibrating against her fleshy breasts. Blood filled up his asshole as her fist continued tearing up his insides. She could feel an orgasm induced by his pain begin to flood her. Quickly she tossed his battered and bloody body to the ground. Dropping down next to him, she engulfed his head between cream-streaked pounding thighs, which expanded to press thirty- six inches of steely muscle painfully into his neck and shoulders. She wriggled on top of his face until her cunt pressed firmly into his mouth, her muscular ass squeezing tightly against the top of his skull. Screaming, she let the orgasm literally boil out of her. Hot torrents of Felicia cum sprayed onto his face and poured down his throat. He couldn't swallow fast enough to breathe, even if her position had allowed him to. He breathed, swallowed, saw boiling hot cream pour onto his face even as her thighs and ass pounded harder into his skull. Her screams reached a peak as she felt his skull splinter under the tremendous pressure her superhumanly strong thighs pounded into it. Extending her legs, she shrieked in triumph as she rode out her orgasm, drowning any features the poor accountant might have had, spilling out onto the dirt floor and staining her thighs. His crushed skull oozed blood and brains onto her thighs, which became washed in with her cum and streamed onto the floor. Not even close to sated, Felicia jumped up and ran to the open arena door, bursting into the control room. Startled, Doug turned around to watch in horror as her fist propelled itself seemingly without effort straight through the bulletproof plexiglass. It didn't shatter, of course, but the rest of her followed her fist, crashing through the partition as though it weren't there. She grabbed Doug in one hand as if he were a rag doll, slamming him up onto the control console. The life signs on four of the monitors were flat, and very weak on the fifth. This went unnoticed, however, as she tore off his lab coat and the rest of his clothes and nearly crushed him to death against the console with her bare hand. Before Felicia could mount Doug and fuck him to lifeless paste in her desperate search for sex, tiny pinpricks of pain opened in her back. Tranquilizer darts from security rained into her back, bringing her down, slumping to the ground. The four security guards ran to restrain her, struggling to lift her tremendous weight off the ground. Her eyes opened and she laughed, easily shrugging off the effects of the tranquilizer in her adrenalin-enhanced state. Her legs opened and snapped shut, trapping the neck and head of one of the guards between her deadly thighs. She squeezed, easily snapping his neck. Her calves found a second guard's neck and ground it to jelly. Reaching behind a third's skull with her right hand, she mashed his face down into hers in a rough kiss, her tongue spearing to the back of his throat and nearly knocking out a few of his teeth. Her hand squeezed, effortlessly caving in his skull and mushing the gray matter inside until it oozed out from her clamped fist. Her hand still gory with strings of brain attached, she brought it over to tear the balls off the last security guard left alive and rammed them down his throat. She took his head and stuffed it between her breasts, deeper down until it rested between rock-hard pecs. She flexed her pecs and squeezed her breasts into him, grinding his skull until his brains joined the accountant's dried blood in her deep cleavage. Enough amperage to kill a horse pulsed through Felicia as more guards pouring in brought their shock sticks into play. She only managed to crush one of their windpipes before slipping into unconsciousness, the broken room a scene of death and destruction. Dead bodies and oozing brains decorated the room, along with the deep pads of her chest, her crotch, and her killer thighs. Clearing his throat as he surveyed this disaster, Doug said, "I believe she left a man alive out in the arena. Get him some medical attention. As for her," he smiled ruefully, "I guess she still needs a bit of training before we get that 'Controlled' bit right. Now, I need a break. I'm going home and seeing to my wife and family."