The Facility, Part Three by Seldom Felicia goes out for a night on the town, with bloody results. Blood, gore, violence, a little sex, all that jazz. If it ain't yer thing, don't read it, if it is, enjoy. This one is quite violent. If you like the violence and don't particularly care for the plot and some tender sex, feel free to skip to Section III. And please, try to remember, I'm not going for realism here. I don't think the CIA is actually involved in a conspiracy to build an army of genetically engineered muscle-babes (too bad). That's quite beside the point. Parts one and two are, I believe, in Miscellaneous 4 of The Valkyrie's excellent library. Some notes for any of you that care: Approximately six months pass between parts one and two. The "plot" (such as it is) was not developed well in those stories, but I hope to remedy that in part three. This takes place about a year later. Tonight will be Felicia's first experience outside the Facility. Randy Goats (hey, I like to have fun with names) is the surviving ex-convict we first met in part two, now Felicia's permanent mate. Sorry about the long wait, but I hope it's worth it. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- FELICIA -- Feminine Elite Licensed Indestructible Controlled Ideal Agent Section I - Director's Chair "Ah, Mr. Forster. Pleasant evening. Good news, I hope," Facility Director William Harkin looked up and remarked as Doug Forster entered, a binder under his arm, his lab coat a little the worse for wear. "How is that jaw of yours?" Harkin referred to Doug's swollen, discolored jaw, the product of a minor dispute with Felicia's ex-convict boyfriend. Doug favored Harkin with a wry smile, responding, "Not too bad. Had worse. As for good news, I'm afraid I haven't got any." He tossed the thick binder onto the director's desk. "Here's the psychologist's profile for Felicia for the past six months. And her latest physical results. Along with the reports I'm sure you've already read regarding her performance in the arena and special ops training. Everything but the physical looks pretty grim. She's no longer responding well to training, her violence index has gone down, and her sadism seems to have abated somewhat. In short, she's just not enjoying her work. Lack of job satisfaction, the psychologist calls it." "Well, well, not to worry," the director responded with a quick smile. "After all, we've only got another two hundred years to get her in top shape, right?" Doug gave him a severe, humorless glance. "That's not true, and you know it. You've got CIA bigshots breathing down your neck to get Project FELICIA past the trial stage, don't try to deny it. Good assassins willing to work for our government are so hard to find these days; they're hoping for some good, quick results here. If we can get Felicia back to her old wonderful self and pull a major operation, say wipe out a group of terrorists or assassinate a mid-East oil sheik, we continue to get funding. If not, Felicia gets cancelled. Permanently." Harkin winced. "I know, I know. But you say yourself she's not ready for that kind of a mission; she still needs training. Ah, shit, we don't need her giving us these problems. We can come up with our own problems without her help. I assume, since you've brought this report filled with crap I don't want to hear, you've also thought of a solution. Well, Doug, spit it out." Now Doug smiled. "Of course. I thought you'd never ask. Well, sir, Felicia wants out. So, I say we give her out. Drop her off in some mid-sized town in Maryland or Virginia, let her have a night out, and bring her back. Likely as not, she'll release some aggression, bring her sadistic tendencies to the fore again, and come back better receptive to our training. After all, what could a girl like Felicia learn from a night on the town but how much humans deserve to die?" "Mm-hmm. That's not a bad idea. Except for the recapture bit, of course. That could prove difficult. But I like it. Work on it and let her out tonight. Make sure it's somewhere that can't be connected with the CIA. Your job depends on giving me what I want, and I want her back ready, Doug. All joking aside, no more of these delays." "Yes, sir." Doug retrieved his binder and walked back towards Felicia's quarters, muttering, "Now how am I going to get her to come back..." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Section II - Felicia and Randy "Hiya, Doug," Randy greeted Doug cheerfully. "Come back for some more?" He rubbed his hands together and grinned mockingly. "Ah, shove it, Randy. Where's the monster?" Randy bristled. "Hey, mister, careful how you talk about my girl. I coulda done a lot worse than that love tap on your jaw." "Yes, Neanderthals always were quite willing to settle their problems with violence. Probably why your kind died out. Now where is she?" "Goddamn punk," muttered Randy. Raising his voice, he responded, "Probably in her work-out room liftin' weights or something. I don't get it. Why does she work for you people? Why she doesn't break your disrespectful little neck, kill the lot of you, and break outta here is something I'll never understand." "Loyalty is programmed into her, lucky for you, Mr. Goats. I think it's right next to the sequence for violent and sadistic tendencies. Thank you, I think I shall talk to my prize experiment now." Doug wandered off in the direction of Felicia's work-out room while Randy watched after him, thinking how good it would feel to really rub that asshole's face in a pile of shit. Randy went back to reading his book, enjoying all the hospitality the U.S. Government had to offer. After a short time, he glanced back up and saw Felicia walking back with her arm around Doug. Her six-foot one frame stood about even with Doug, but her wide, massively muscled figure dwarfed his. Her arm, draped casually across his shoulders, could just as casually snap his spine like a twig and toss him out with the trash. She had the body and the disposition for it, although lately she seemed to be getting kinder, almost... gentler. Her mood swings were getting more frequent, and she seemed depressed a lot. Now, however, she walked back to Randy with a spring in her step and a smile on her face. Randy smiled back at her, ignoring Doug's smirk. Felicia lightly propelled Doug towards the door, with an affectionate, "Get outta here, before my savior has to teach you another lesson in respect." He lost no time in striding out the door, locking it behind him. "So, gorgeous, what's up?" he asked her as she settled her considerable bulk into his lap. He had trouble breathing in this position but didn't complain, as it brought her hugely muscled ass in contact with his stiffening cock. Her right arm circled around the back of his head, resting the hand on his shoulder. Her face hovered inches before his, hot, sweet breath whistling gently through deep red lips. Her sweat dripped over him in small, salty rivers, her muscles straining against the skin. He loved the way she looked after a good workout, and her intense musky smell turned him on. "Guess what? They're gonna let me out! Just for the night, but still, I get to see the real world! Like on TV! Ooh, I'm so excited!" she bounced slightly in his lap, making him wince as pain shot through his bruising legs. "That's great, beautiful. Jesus, I wish they'd let me out sometime." Felicia's baby face fell into a pout, her eyes expressing great sympathy. "I'm sorry, baby, I guess I never thought about that. They don't even give you a pass like the guards. You're locked up like a criminal here. I always thought you were happy here with me." She flexed her buns, forcing huge, mountainous muscles deep into his thighs, enveloping his cock through the pants. "Oh, I am, Felicia, I am." He kissed her cheek. "I love you, and I hope you have a great night tonight." He smiled, showing his sincerity. "I will, baby. But first, I'll show you a great afternoon!" She kissed him long and deep, her strong tongue probing far to the back of his throat. His tongue played with hers, playfully shoving it back into her mouth. Their lips sucked and wriggled against each other as their wrestling tongues exchanged saliva. Breaking off the kiss, Felicia stood up, easily lifting Randy's huge six-five body into the air with her arms. She pressed his chest into her huge, firm breasts, pulsing his body against them with the tremendous strength in her arms as she carried him over to the bed. Tossing him onto the bed like so much luggage, she jumped on top of him, straddling his stomach with her titanic, steel-hard thighs. She ripped off his clothing, tossing the shreds to the side, in an effort to press her own naked body into his. Wriggling against him, she wrapped her thighs around his pelvis, slipping his stiff cock far into her hot, dripping pussy. She rhythmically tensed her legs, pushing him deeper into her while she grabbed his head and kissed him more deeply and passionately than before. He quickly exploded into her pulsing vagina, moaning in pleasure. Lightning fast, she reversed positions on him, taking his cock all the way into her mouth and wrapping his head in her oak-like thighs. Velvet skin pressed into his ears as her legs forced his face deep into her cunt, wetting him in their combined fluids. His tongue licked her cunt lips gently, slowly probing deeper into her muscled pussy. Her thighs pounded into his skull in intense pleasure and her sucking pressure on his cock increased. Both of them began pulsing harder and faster, her massive arms slipping under his butt and pressing him painfully far into her mouth. They both erupted at the same time, she drenching his face with her steaming-hot cunt-cream and he shooting another load of cum into her mouth. Swallowing, she rolled off him, sated. They lay side by side in their reversed position, breathing hard. "Damn, that was quick," she said. "I guess we haven't done that in too long." "Yeah," he said, wiping her hot cream off his face. "It has been too long. But now I'm ready for something a little different." He smiled at her and crawled down until he lay on top of her, his face inches above her heaving chest. He bent his head and gently licked around her nipple until it grew hard and projected out from her mammoth breast. He did the same to the other, licking and fondling her huge, firm breasts until she gave a low moan. Her thigh came up to his cock and rubbed its rock-solid muscles until he grew hard again. He stopped sucking on her nipple and kissed her gently on the mouth, their tongues meeting and playing in the middle. She grabbed his ass in both hands and rubbed his cock up and down her washboard abdominal muscles. He continued fondling her breasts until she stopped kissing back and rubbing him against her. He broke off the kiss and looked down at her gently sleeping body, her thick arms still pressing his middle against her stomach. Snuggling down, he lay his head on her firm, gently rising breast and fell asleep on top of her. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Section III - People Suck, So Kill 'Em Drip. Drip. Drip. Small droplets trailed out of the hypodermic needle as the lab-coated geneticist extracted it from a clear solution. He smiled over at Felicia. She glared back distrustingly. "Don't worry, Felicia," he said. "Just a little something to help you relax tonight. It releases inhibitions, rather like alcohol, only without the side effects. It's got some hormones in it as well. You'll like it." He brought the needle over to Felicia's bare arm, inserting it carefully through the rippling muscles. Press down on the plunger, withdraw needle, insert back in case. God, what a geek, Felicia thought. She looked around the roomy interior of the dark van, heart beginning to beat a little faster. A driver to her front left, security guard in the passenger seat. To her left, a sniper with equipment, right, lab geek. Behind, two more security guards, both armed with tasers and 9mm Berrettas. Bulletproof glass on the windows, armored doors and roof, bomb- shielded bottom. Training and senses kicking in, she scanned through the tinted windows into the dark night. One human, male, fifteen meters to the rear. One cat, female, in a tree twenty meters in front. One squirrel, gender unknown, being chased by the cat. No wind. Ambient temperature, a humid 28 degrees Celsius. Her heart raced now, the old familiar sensations jump-started by the hormone serum. Without conscious thought, all four of her limbs jumped to action independently. Each leg looped out and hooked the driver and passenger, squeezing slightly, tearing their chairs from the floor and ramming against each other. A sickening snap accompanied the breaking of their spines in her massive, rock-solid thighs. Meanwhile, her left arm whipped out, holding the sniper in a one-armed headlock. She squeezed harder and harder until his skull cracked open between her biceps and forearm, spilling blood, bone, and brain onto her left side. Her right hand caught the lab tech around the throat, easily lifting him out of his seat. "Now you die, geek," she growled. She rammed his body into the roof of the van, his neck crunching in on itself and his skull cracking on the armored ceiling. Blood spilled down over her right arm. Her sex drive kicked in at full intensity, her own hormones raging in her thirst for blood. Small rivers of hot cum began to run out between her inner thighs, spilling onto the bodies of the men eternally resting between them. Whipping around, she grabbed the taser guns out of the hands of the rear guards. Wires jumped out of them into the face of the one on the right. The guns had been specially modified to take down the muscle-bound fury, pumping out more electricity than any mere human could stand. Every synapse in his forebrain fried instantly, leaving a useless vegetable in place of a man. Felicia dropped the taser triggers and grabbed the arms of the last man left alive. With a terrifying feral grin, she wrenched his arms outward, popping the joints from their sockets. Steadily increasing the terrible pressure, she laughed at his screams and pathetic squirming. In a tearing sound too horrifying to describe, his arms ripped free from his torso, blood and tissue spilling out onto the van's floor. His blood pumped over her arms as she reached down to his stomach, tearing it open while he still lived. Blood and gore drenched her bare torso and arms, running down over her hips. Slowly calming down, she unhinged her tremendous legs from around the dead driver and guard, blood dripping all over the nearly destroyed interior of the van. She burst out the right side, not bothering to open the door. Reinforced metal tore at weak points and flew out onto the ground. Her huge muscles strained against satin skin, every gory peak defined under the streetlights. Her huge chest heaved in and out, large firm breasts ending in excited, discolored nipples. The man walking on the sidewalk turned, startled, and stopped dead at what he saw. Felicia stood at her full six feet one inch, muscles fully flexed, red gore mixing with cum and running onto the ground and dripping from clenched fists. His lips quivered and his knees grew so weak he nearly fell. He started blubbering and trying to speak, ineffectively backing away. She easily overtook him, and he closed his eyes and sobbed into his fists, expecting this gory apparition from hell to end his life. Instead, he felt a bloody arm gently close around his back, her other hand pressing his face lightly but firmly into the valley between her left bicep and breast. Frightened, he looked up into her beautiful round face, and was shocked to see tears running down her face. Her right hand stroked his head and her left held his butt, firmly pressing him into her wet crotch. Blood dripped onto him, along with pieces of flesh, and he nearly vomited. But he continued gazing up at her until her quiet crying subsided. She looked down at him, and quickly withdrew her gory arm. "Run," she said, nearly in a whisper. Then, more firmly, "Run!" The pedestrian was not the bravest nor stupidest of men, so he instantly took off, futilely trying to wipe the bloodstains out of his clothes and wondering what had just happened and damn wasn't that the strangest dream ever? Felicia looked off after him, wiping her tears away into the blood on her forearm. Clenching her fists, she looked back at the van. "Why?" she asked, walking over to it. Then she kicked in the front door, the force of her superhumanly powerful blow nearly rolling the van over. "Why, motherfuckers? Leave me alone!" She stalked off, pausing to wash off in Rock Creek. Presently, Felicia found herself walking into the outskirts of a strange downtown. Most of the buildings looked abandoned, and those that weren't were locked up tighter than a forty- year-old virgin. She kept to the sides of the street, staying in the shadows. People, most drunk, walked by her without a second glance, though she cut a striking figure, especially naked and wet. As she walked by a dark alleyway, she heard a voice coming out. "Come on, fucker, give us your wallet now and we'll kill you quickly." Curious, she walked in to see what was going on. Her powerful night vision focused instantly, identifying four young men armed with knives surrounding a well-dressed middle-aged man. The four attackers didn't notice her entrance until the businessman gave a fearful glance, then a surprised stare. "Hey, we got ourselves a big bitch here!" one of the young men exclaimed. "Hell yeah, Jerry, lesse what we can do with her!" Forgetting about the businessman, the four youths circled around Felicia, knives at the ready, grinning at her huge breasts and flexed muscles. "Jesus, Jerry, check out her tits! They gotta be big as a fuckin' city!" Felicia stared at "Jerry", who seemed to be the leader of the group. As he circled her, she circled with him, keeping her body sideways to him and her eyes staring straight into his. He feinted, but withdrew when she didn't dodge one inch. "Now die, pigfuckers," she growled. Lightning quick, her left foot pivoted around her right leg and slammed into the boy behind her, the force of her kick snapping his neck instantly and hurling him ten feet into the side of the alley. Her left foot landed expertly next to her right, her spin continuing as she picked her right foot off the ground and repeated the kick to the next youth in a clockwise direction. Her foot slammed into his back, neatly snapping his spine, rendering him paralyzed from the waist down. She grabbed the third boy in a bear hug and easily lifted him off the ground, squeezing with her huge biceps and forearms, compressing his chest into her firm breasts. "You like these tits, boy? Die by them!" she commanded, increasing the pressure. Her breasts snapped through his rib cage, breaking them one by one. Her arms continued constricting until his spine snapped, and she held him there, blood dripping out of his mouth, until he stopped breathing. Then she dropped his lifeless body to the ground. Jerry had nearly made it to the exit of the alley by the time Felicia caught up to him. "Not thinking of leaving, were you?" she asked. "I think you're scheduled to die!" She lifted him straight over her head, one hand on his neck and the other in his crotch. She held him there while he wailed, begging her not to kill him. Her lips twisted upwards in a cruel smile as she lifted her right leg, flexing her huge thigh. She brought his back crashing down onto her thigh, breaking it easily. She lifted his still-living body over her head again, twisting it in various horrendous ways with her fully-flexed arms. Bones popped in and out of joints and skin tore with wet rips, spilling blood onto her massive arms. His body was slowly pulverized into a mass of blood and tissue mixed with bone fragments in her huge arms. Finally she dropped the corpse, turning to face the frightened businessman, looking like an angel of death: beautiful, powerful, and gory. "Th-th-th-thank y-y-you," he stammered out. "Wh-wh-who are y-you?" "Felicia," she responded, thrusting her dripping hand out. More than a little apprehensive, he shook the gory weapon. "I wouldn't recommend walking through here again. Seems a bit dangerous." "Yeah," he breathed, relieved. His hand remained engulfed in hers, seeming puny by comparison. He stared at her proud, thrusting breasts and large, erect nipples. She noticed, chuckling, and brought his hand over to rest against one. She rubbed his hand over her huge breast, his hand barely able to cover the areola. "All right," she said. "Get outta here. I have unfinished business." She brought his hand down to her dripping wet, hairy crotch and glanced at the boy whose back she had broken but still remained alive. Shuddering, he quickly retrieved his hand from her grasp and hurried out, on to whatever appointment he needed to keep badly enough to rush through this neighborhood in the middle of the night. She turned to the moaning, paralyzed thug. Lowering her huge body down onto his, she placed her huge, wet crotch onto his bruised and broken back. Her calves reached out to lock around his neck, cutting off his oxygen. She ground her pussy into his broken back, the wet cunt lips leaving hot, slimy trails on his purplish skin. She moaned and began increasing the tempo of her heaves into his back, ignoring his attempts to breathe and snapping her calves up and back, wrenching his head and dislocating several vertebrae in his neck. His jaw shattered under the relentless onslaught of her huge, diamond-hard calves. Her humping increased to the point where his spine snapped completely loose, his body containing no more structure than a rag doll. Her calves compressed around his skull, crushing it to gory powder. She came with a scream of fury and triumph, tearing his body in half with her powerful calves and thighs. His torso tore completely free of the lower half of his body in her huge legs, her flooding crotch spraying cum all over his butt and lower back. She bit her lip and smiled, looking over her shoulder at what she had done. "Oh, yeah, I'm back," she said, and laughed. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Section IV - Club Rules Kyle rolled over, snorted into his pillow, and gradually came to a groggy awareness. The time, 11:30 at night, barely registered, though the red digital readout fairly burned into his eyes. Goddamn, he thought, this has got to be the worst fuckin birthday ever. At 28 (as of today), he felt his life a failure. He lived above a women's clothing store, giving ugly middle-aged women makeovers day-in and day-out, making them feel beautiful, or at least normal, once again. Today was no different; his fucking boss wouldn't even give him the day off, and it was a Saturday! Chrissake, by the end of the day, he didn't even have the energy to go out and get properly smashed. Jesus, what a life, he frequently groaned. And now, just waking up, he could hear his shower running. What kind of dumb-shit burglar takes a shower in the middle of a break-in? he wondered. Christ, just what he needed, to get robbed by the biggest dumb-fuck in the goddamn state. What the hell, he thought, might as well see what the asshole wanted. Maybe Kyle could go get him a beer or something. Fucking hell. The shower stopped running. Kyle froze halfway to the bathroom. Jesus, this is it, he thought. Last night of my fucking life. Well, at least it's on my birthday. Lends a nice sense of irony. Good to know the universe has a sense of humor. After standing there for several minutes feeling dumb, he decided to turn around and get back in bed to wait for his end there, at least be comfortable. The door to the bathroom opened behind him, and before he could turn around he felt a huge hand clamp around his throat and lift him clear off the ground. Making gagging noises, he dangled for several moments before being tossed roughly onto his bed. He turned around to look at his strong assailant, and gasped. There stood the biggest woman he had ever seen in his entire pathetic life. Six-one from huge feet to brown hair, rippling with the largest set of muscles he had seen on anyone, male or female. And she was definitely female. Huge, firm breasts jutted out from rock-solid pecs, and he tentatively identified them as at least a GG-cup. He looked up at her face, and even in the dark he could see its beauty, the round face and full red lips highlighted by the streetlamps outside his room. "Wha, wha, wha, who?" he stammered out. "Happy birthday, Kyle," the vision stated. "My name is Felicia. You're going to dress me and give me a makeover. I've always wanted one, like I see in the magazines." She tossed one of his many glamour magazines over to him. His mind raced around, then locked on one thing: muscles and all, she was the most beautiful, erotic creature he had ever seen. "Uh, um, okay," he said. "Lemme get dressed." He fumbled around his room putting on jeans and a nice shirt. Ready, he let her out the door. She had to turn sideways to fit through the frame. Even so, her mammoth mammaries had to squeeze through, bouncing slightly. Once downstairs, he let them into the clothing section. "So, uh, I guess you want a dress, huh?" She nodded. "Right," he muttered. He knew what he'd like her to wear; he had just the dress. No woman had been able to fill it before; they kept it on display as a kind of joke. It was extremely low cut, with GG-cups and spaghetti straps, showing a lot of breast from both the side and the front. It was cut large around the butt, though from her huge, muscular ass he thought it might fit a bit snugly on her. The dress barely went below the ass, as it was designed to show a LOT of leg and cleavage. Panties would be visible to whomever was looking slightly below waist-level. Apparently, Felicia didn't plan on wearing panties. She snatched the large dress from out of his grasp. The material looked flimsy and the dress small in her hand. She brought it over her head and tugged it down her body until it fit snugly into place. Her huge breasts strained against the front, threatening to tear a line and expose even more cleavage, the GG-cup seeming small in comparison to her gigantic tits. The spaghetti straps fit over her broad shoulders, showing off the mountains of smoothly flexing muscle that were her deltoids and biceps. It fit very tightly around her abdomen, the layers of flat, packed muscle showing through the thin material. Her butt fairly exploded into enormous glutes, every muscle sharply defined in the fabric. The dress stopped just below the tops of her gigantic thighs, glimpses of hairy snatch visible at the bottom. Kyle gulped. "Very, uh, very, uh, sexy," he croaked. She smiled at him. "Now for my makeover," she said. She took off the dress and lay it on a nearby rack. Shaking his head, he gulped out, "Of course." He led her over to the racks of makeup facing an array of chairs. Her naked, muscular body fell into one and it creaked as it strained to hold her weight. It was designed to withstand large stresses, but even so, it looked and sounded ready to collapse. Kyle grabbed the makeup he thought he might need and professionally lay it on the table in front of Felicia. He pulled out the lipstick. A bright, ruby red, he thought, would do perfectly on her. He lay it on thick, not sparing any. He continued applying makeup, giving the most enthusiastic and heartfelt makeover of his life. When he finished, he stepped back to gape in awe. She was even more beautiful than before! Thick ruby lipstick, a very faint blush on the cheeks, mascara, and dark eyeshadow. She was dressed and made-up to kill, literally, he thought. She brought her left arm around the back of his body and firmly drew him to her until his mouth was six inches from hers. Her hard body and enormous breasts pressed into him, his erection pounding furiously for release. She stuck her tongue out until it rested on his lips. He sucked it into his mouth, traveling along her long, wet tongue until it tickled the back of his throat. His lips met her moist red ones, and he exploded in his pants as she hugged him tightly to her in a long, passionate kiss that nearly cracked his ribs and left him breathless. She easily tore open his pants and ripped off his underwear, shoving his throbbing cock deep into her exposed pussy. She took his head and shoved it into her massive cleavage. Huge breasts closed around his ears and gently massaged his head as her pussy gently massaged his cock. Before long, he again exploded inside her. The squeezings of her vagina on his cock became harder and painful. He cried out, but her breasts closed around his face, shoving him harder in until his head lay between huge granite pecs. He could feel an orgasm gathering inside her as her tremendous thighs snapped together, instantly crushing through his pelvis. He screamed, the vibrations in her pecs increasing her sexual pleasure. The pecs flexed around his head, squeezing his trapped skull into an unrecognizable bloody tube as her legs tore his body in half up the middle in a deadly grapevine. He was dead long before she reached her orgasm, cum and blood mixing in a steady stream between her legs. His body tore right up to the trapped head, what was left of his skull oozing out of the valley of her huge pecs and firm breasts. His headless body lay in a bloody gory mess on her abdomen, each half ending in a leg wrapped around her own far larger one. She smiled, stood, and stretched. Surveying the blood and gore dripping off her body onto the floor, she said, "God, what a mess. I wish they were made stronger, like Randy." She toweled the blood and tissue off her body, not wishing to ruin her makeover with another shower. She put on the dress again and headed out, looking for a night on the town. Lawrence Yale, Assistant Director at InstaCaff Coffee Services. 34, Harvard graduate. Scrawny. Already starting to bald. And at this moment waiting alone in line outside Red Hot, Silver Spring's latest and greatest everyparty spot. He'd been waiting nearly an hour and a half in the three block-long line and was within ten minutes of the front. This better pay off, he thought. With a $25 cover charge just to get to the balcony, he didn't think it would. He jerked his head up, cracking it against brick as a huge hand propelled him backward to smash his body against the wall behind him. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, then gasped as he saw the body that hand was attached to. In two-inch heels, she stood fully nine inches above his five and a half foot frame. Gigantic breasts and erect nipples straining to tear through the thin fabric of her dress lay directly in front of his eyes. Above him, large glistening red lips curled in a half-smile. "Hey. Got a date?" she asked. He looked to the left and right of him, but the other people in the line busily studied their shoes. So much for help from Silver Spring's friendly residents. "Uh, uh, well, no," he gulped out. He was beginning to have trouble breathing, her huge hand crushing his chest against the wall. Realizing this, she withdrew her hand, allowing him to breathe and step forward a little. "Well, you do now," she said. "I'll even let you pay." "Yeah, um, thanks," he stuttered. His mind whirled. Her arms were nearly twice as big around as his waist, and each of her breasts were much larger than his head. Her round face fairly shone with health, beauty, and well-applied makeup. He had always been attracted to larger, dominant women, but she went beyond his wildest imaginings. She pushed her body up against him, shoving huge breasts into his face and pinning him against the wall. He felt her hot, wet crotch settle onto the bulge in his pants and start rubbing slightly, making him explode. Her cream slithered over his crotch, soaking right through his slacks and covering his genitals in a hot bath. "You like this?" she murmured. "Just be my date." "Yes, of course," he moaned, not wanting her to stop. One of her muscular hands slid around to hold his butt, pressing him firmly against her thigh. She held him like that, rubbing the front of his pants against her granite thigh occasionally, for the eight minutes it took to reach the door. They reached the door and Felicia released him long enough to pay the $50 cover charge at the door. The gorilla opened his mouth to say something snide about her but snapped it shut when she gave him a terrifying glare, her cold green eyes promising a painful death should he foolishly say anything. Heavy techno music thumped loudly in the dimly lit, red murky interior. Couples danced and collided with people trying to thread their way through. They merely bounced off Felicia, her hugely muscular body not giving an inch to peer pressure as she bulled a way through for herself and her date. She found a table in the corner and brushed the trash from its recent occupation off the top. She sat him down next to her and gently lowered her bulk into the sturdy chair. "So, what's your name?" she shouted into his ear. "Larry, Larry Yale," he shouted back. "I'm an Assistant Director at InstaCaff Coffee Services. What's yours?" "Felicia," she answered with a smile. "I'm a homicidal psychopath." He laughed, slightly uneasily. "Um, maybe this isn't a question I should ask, but why are you here? With me, I mean. You're awfully pretty, and you can't be more than nineteen. You could have a date with someone younger, richer, and more handsome." Her smile grew broader. "You have some self-esteem issues you should work out. Yeah, I could, but I want to be here with you. Don't question it." He considered that, nodded, and smiled. "Okay." He turned his attention from her slightly parted red lips to her exotic green eyes, and saw slightly amused affection. She leaned towards him, and he leaned back, their lips meeting in a long kiss that became more passionate. She wrapped her thickly muscled arms around him and drew his body to her, pushing her slimy tongue deep into his mouth. Her knee pressed hard into his soaked pelvis, rubbing gently. Breaking it off, she leaned over to say in his ear, "Give me $100." His face fell, and he started to ask why. "No, I'm not charging you. If I were going to, it would be for a hell of a lot more than one hundred dollars. Just give it to me. Don't question me, I'm your wet dream." Confused, he reached into his wallet and pulled out five twenties. "Good boy," she said approvingly, slipping them into her deep cleavage. "Now, I have to go, but I'll be back. Don't leave without me." She stood up, towering over most of the dancers around them, and stalked off through the crowd. Felicia looked around until she found what she was looking for: a tall, gorgeous, scantily- clad blonde with enormous tits. The blonde was attempting to fend off unwanted advances from what seemed like all the single men at the club. Right now, one was sitting with her, and she was politely trying to get rid of him. He wouldn't take a hint. Felicia clamped a huge hand on his shoulder and easily lifted him to a standing position before tossing him off into the crowd and slipping into his former seat. The blonde smiled at Felicia, thinking that she finally found a suitable date. "Hi!" she exclaimed. "I'm Jenna. Lookin' for a little fun?" Her eyes traced Felicia's biceps rippling against skin from each movement. "I'm Felicia. Actually, I was wondering if you could do me a favor." "Anything, sweetheart, you name it." The blonde's eyes had found Felicia's huge breasts, each one as big as both of her own. Felicia pulled the five twenties from between her tits. "Oh, baby, I'll do you for free." Felicia smiled wryly. "Not quite what I meant." She handed the money to the blonde, who put it inside her purse. "I want you to entertain a friend of mine, you know, pretend you're interested in him. It shouldn't be for more than an hour or so, and you won't have to do anything but talk with him. For a hundred dollars, you could even make an attempt at being friendly. Anyway, later I'll come back for him, and maybe for you too." Felicia reached out and cupped one of Jenna's enormous breasts in one hand, giving it a light squeeze. Jenna's grin nearly split her face. "Really? I hope you do! Sure I'll do it." Felicia told her where Larry was sitting, and watched her bounce off, fleshy tits bobbing up and down enchantingly, ignoring the men around her. Felicia shook her head, amused, muttering "Ditz" affectionately. Standing back up, she headed off towards the bathroom. As she strode past the bar on the way, a face hit her solid right bicep and bounced off. Amused, she looked over to see who it was. The man was a little tipsy; it looked like he had had one too many for complete control of his faculties. "Whoa, you're big," he said stupidly. Regular fucking genius, she thought. She thrust her powerful right hand far into his pants, cupping his privates and squeezing them slightly. Smiling, she said, "So are you. Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back." His drunk friends clapped and howled from their spectator positions, the noise lost in the heavy techno thumping. He smiled and swayed back a bit, running his hands over her thick arm, wider across than his waist. She withdrew her hand from his pants and went into the women's restroom without further interruption. When she emerged from the bathroom stall, a tall oriental woman glanced over at her reflection in the mirror. The asian finished washing her hands and took a harder look at Felicia. Finally, she smiled. "What are you supposed to be, some type of fuckin' bodybuilder?" she asked. Felicia eyed her with approval. Her mouth parted slightly, big moist red lips looked capable of fantastic kissing. Slender arms extended from a fashionable red dress that artfully concealed full, firm breasts and enhanced her hourglass figure. Felicia took off her own dress and kicked off her shoes before responding. "Nah," she said. "I work out some, but most of this is natural. Come over, let me show you." The oriental took off her dress, brown breasts bobbing slightly. She walked over to Felicia almost in a daze and ran her hands down Felicia's muscled neck and over huge, mounded pecs. Her fingers traced around the sides of Felicia's mountains of breast meat and dug into the valleys of her abdominals. Looking up at Felicia's smiling face, she said, "My god, you're gorgeous. Fuck me." Felicia scooped up the oriental with her left arm as if she weighed nothing and planted a deep, wet, passionate kiss full on her mouth. Her right hand found the asian's wet pussy and started shoving strong fingers in and out rhythmically. Brown, lean thighs wrapped around Felicia's steely abdomen as the asian worked her way to a climax on the powerful right hand. Juice flowed onto the hand and dripped onto the floor as the beautiful oriental broke off the kiss, gasping, "Shit, you're great." Felicia smiled and roughly shoved the other woman's head far into her armpit, the trapped skull lost in her rapidly expanding biceps and pecs. "Let me feel your tongue and I might let you live," she said, emphasizing her point with a small flex of her bicep. She felt the oriental gasp into her armpit before beginning to lick up the sweat there. "Good, keep going." The long wet tongue slid over the huge striated arm and side muscles frantically. Felicia rolled her eyes to the ceiling and slimy rivers of cum started to stream from her crotch. Involuntarily her arm flexed even more, crushing the merely human skull into her side. The crunch of the skull fracturing brought Felicia back to the moment and she released the asian, who slumped to the floor, unconscious. Still smiling, Felicia brought her hot, wet crotch over the asian's impressive chest. Roughly grabbing one of the big tits, Felicia shoved it far into her cunt. Strong pussy muscles mangled it instantly, nearly ripping the fleshy tit off the asian's torso. Felicia repeated the maneuver on the other breast, and this time during her climax her tight vaginal canal tore the breast right off in a spray of blood and adipose tissue. Slowly coming back to reality after her climax, Felicia dropped the bloody tit into a toilet and flushed. With her awesome arms, she easily folded the body in half, giggling at the crunching noises the spinal column made as it snapped in several places. She shoved the beautiful but mangled corpse into a ventilation duct, careful to make sure no blood showed. She cleaned up the bloody floor and washed herself off, looking in the mirror. Her face still glowed in made-up perfection, big red lips glistening and black mascara enhancing startling green eyes. "My god, you're gorgeous. Fuck me," she told the mirror, and kissed her reflection, leaving a huge smear of red lipstick on the reflective surface. The club still thumped in technosplendor, ignorant of the massive, beautiful, sadistic predator in its midst. The aforementioned predator went to the bar to fulfill its promise, and more. She slid up next to the drunken admirer from a few minutes before and waited for him to turn and notice her. One of his friends broke into a grin and gestured at her until he turned around. He smiled. "Oh, it's you. I wondered if you'd come back," he said, his speech a little more slurred than before. "Of course," she replied. "You didn't think I'd miss a chance to play with that huge cock of yours, did you? Dance with me." She dragged him off into the smoky interior all the way to the dance floor, his drunken grin the last his buddies would ever see of him. He laid his hands on her sides, feeling the layered armor of her muscles flex and flow. She wrapped huge arms around his shoulders, engulfing them between massive biceps and thick, vascular forearms. She pulled his body close to hers, nearly burying his chest and neck in the deep valley of her firm breasts. She smiled down at him and slowly brought her glistening lips down to his own, smothering him with her big, moist lips. Her right arm descended to his butt, cupping it and easily lifting him off the ground and pulling him tighter into her muscular body. She maneuvered his crotch beneath her own steaming, dripping cunt. His long cock sprang free after she gently urged the front of his jeans open. Pushing harder into his ass, she shoved his cock into her hairy bush and sunk the hard rod far into her hot, wet pussy. It hungrily ate at his cock, powerful vaginal muscles pulsing and manipulating him to an incredible orgasm. She stopped dancing and held him tight, nearly crushing his comparatively small body into pulp as she lost control of her powerful muscles during her orgasm. He gasped as she finally let him go. She did not allow him to catch his breath, though, before roughly grabbing his upper arm and hauling him back into the murky depths of the club toward a discreetly placed stairwell in a corner. Using one arm she easily lifted him into the air as if his body weighed next to nothing and marched up the stairs with him. At the top of the stairwell, she brushed by an attendant asking to help them. On second thought, she turned around, grabbed him around the neck, and demanded, "Where is there an empty room? Tell me, before I crush the life out of your pathetic body!" Shaking, he pointed an unsteady finger several doors down the hallway. Felicia slammed her smiling, drunken, barely comprehending captive against the door, not even bothering to open it before smothering his face with her hot, moist lips. She pressed her abundant tits against his chest and rubbed up against him, her large hard nipples digging painfully through his shirt. Her steely quads mashed the lower part of his unresisting body against the door and threatened to snap his bones like toothpicks from the sheer force of their assault. Regaining control for a moment, she threw open the door and casually tossed him the ten feet to the bed. Her muscular overdeveloped body launched itself through the air with unexpectedly fluid grace and landed straddled over his middle, the bedsprings squealing in protest and several breaking. She tore his clothes off in a frenzy and shoved her steaming slick cunt down on his large pecker with overzealous force, nearly snapping him in half against the bed. His mouth opened to scream in pain only to be instantly filled by fleshy tit meat and hard nipple. Her hips bucked down into him, slamming him repeatedly into the bed as she built to another shuddering violent climax. Her hand slammed his head hard against her unyielding tit and he blacked out from the intense pain and pressure. He awoke to a pounding headache and a slight bruised feeling in his pelvic region. He looked around briefly before the sudden movement forced him to close his eyes against the pain. He hadn't seen the utterly gorgeous, criminally violent psychopath. He breathed. And again. Ah, it felt good. No bruised ribs. God, though, what a fuck! Or couple of fucks. He attempted to open his eyes again and winced, finally bringing them wide open with a tremendous effort. He stretched his arm out and it quickly bumped into a hard and unyielding barrier. Looking to his sides, he saw those huge barrels of thigh meat spread out on either side of him. Now that he thought about it, what was his head lying on? It was rather hot and damp, and too hard for a pillow. He turned around in bed, and there she was smiling down at him over those mountainous, bruising breasts in full pumped-up muscular glory. He glanced down at the bed, then looked up again into her hairy wet snatch. Propping himself up against her relaxed thigh, he rubbed her slick, hot cunt lip between his fingers, the glistening fluid still pumping out in small streams. "Nice pussy," he managed with a weak grin. "Meow," she responded, and he laughed a bit. She brought a huge hand down near his head, and he flinched away from it in fear, but she merely brought it into her clit to cover his own hand and shove it far deeper into her wet, slick cave. Her huge pussy had no problem swallowing both their hands whole with room to spare. He pressed his hand against the vaginal wall and felt the pulse of huge, deadly muscles gently contracting and expanding in post-orgasmic activity. His attention turned back to her lovely round face as she spoke. "You're good." "Thanks, I try," he responded. His hand explored deeper up her tunnel, the juices running thickly over his hand as his entire forearm disappeared into her pussy. He ran his other hand over her vascular forearm, tracing powerful muscles that flexed seemingly subconsciously. She began speaking again. "Hmm, I was just remembering the first man I took. His body was so weak. It crumpled easier than a soda can between my thighs. His blood and screams mingling with my juices, oh, it was so erotic." Her hips started humping up and down and her pussy muscles clenched down on his forearm, trapping it in a satiny slick vice. "But that wasn't the best. You know what the best is? When you struggle. When you scream in pain. I love it when you cry out in terror but can't do anything about it, before my lips or breasts or biceps or thighs or calves close you out and end your life." The pounding of her luscious, hard mounded glutes into the bed increased in tempo as she continued speaking. "Just the feeling of bones crumpling in my muscular embrace, the dying gurgles of men, oh, how do I describe it? I can't! Now, boy, scream!" Her sadistic smile turned into an evil grin, her emerald eyes flashed in delight as they witnessed the terror in his own eyes, and the hammering pussy muscles ground in on his forearm, snapping it in half with their irresistibly powerful pulses. They ground in on the broken limb, pulverizing it and drawing the rest of his arm deeper into her pussy. He started to pass out from the pain, but she stopped the pulsing of her pussy and slapped him roughly across the face. "I want you awake so I can enjoy your pain, fucker!" He moaned and her grin became broader. "Now you're getting the idea. Struggle a bit. I want to snap your resisting body into a thousand pieces. Amuse me, pathetic excuse for a mammal!" Her hand clenched around his shoulder and easily shattered it, blood and skin oozing between her perfect fingers. Her tongue flicked out and licked her smiling lips and she concentrated on drawing more of his arm into her cunt, the force nearly tearing it off. He shook a bit and started trying to break free of her deadly grasp. She merely laughed and snapped his ribs with her free hand, one by one. She lifted his body by the pelvis and smashed his hips using only the one hand. His body stretched between the grasps of her hand and pussy. Hot juices streamed out of Felicia's cunt; only the unbelievable pressure of her powerful vaginal muscles keeping his arm from slipping out in the flood. His trapped arm tore free in a horrendous, sickening release of blood and gore and she held him, minus one limb, high in the air with one arm, the hand rapidly compressing his pelvis to little more than a bloody tube. His head lolled and his eyes glazed over, his consciousness deserting him in the onslaught of such horrible pain and torture. Disgusted, she flung his gory body down on the bed next to her. She pulled the unrecognizable mess of his arm out of her pussy and threw it to a far corner of the room. Lifting herself off the bed, she walked around so her back was to him. She spread the vast expanse of her meaty ass cheeks wide open with her hands and sat on his head, letting the thick layers of muscle chew his head until it lay completely inside her anus. She let the gluteal prison snap shut and began suffocating his barely living body. Standing, she tensed her glutes tighter and tighter until she felt his skull give. Harder and harder her dense glutes crushed in on his head until blood and brains started running out in a slick stream, spreading over her asshole and staining his body. She arched her back and worked her asshole off on his smashed skull, nearly reaching another orgasm before hearing a knock on the door. Annoyed, she went to answer it, his one-armed body trailing behind her, the destroyed shoulders barely emerging from the thick pads of her glutes. Flinging open the door she looked down on the same attendant she had threatened not ten minutes before. He shrank under her glare and quaked at the sight of her massive lower body drenched in blood and gore, with a dead body trailing like some freakish tail out of her perfect ridged ass. He turned to run only to find a huge hand close over his face, easily dragging him into the room for his painful death. With one huge hand, she tossed him onto the bed. Reaching behind her and making a disgusted face, she popped the ex-drunk's gory carcass out from her enormous mounded glutes and tossed it over to land near the bloody, crushed remains of his arm. She turned back to the small attendant. His breathing was quick and shallow and he was in danger of hyperventilating. She slapped him lightly. "Come on, snap out of it," she said. "I'll tell you what. I am going to play with you. I will rub your helpless body over my lips and breasts and cunt. I will snap your bones and tear off your limbs when I feel like it. And there's nothing you can do about it. Now let's play." She lowered her enormous, hard, muscular body over him. Her thighs enveloped his lower body, her huge, rock-hard breasts pressed into his chest, threatening to break his ribs. She kissed him, slowly, passionately, her ruby lips hungrily snatching at his and smearing saliva all over his face. "I own you, little boy. And now I'll break you." She brought her left nipple over his face and jiggled it. He reached up with his mouth and caught her nipple in his teeth. He started sucking and biting. "Oooh," she moaned. She brought her other breast over his face and fondled it with her hand while he sucked on her right nipple. She tore off his pants, exposing his rock-hard medium- sized cock. Her hungry pussy found it and drew it in to her wet depths. Her pussy muscles stroked his penis and within seconds he came in her. She slowly dragged her huge breasts and erect nipples down his body. She rammed her lips down on his mouth, shoving her tongue into his mouth and down his throat. He started to gag. She withdrew her tongue and bit down, crunching through his jaw. The taste of his blood and the vibrations of his screams filled her mouth and she laughed. She continued down his body until her breasts hung just above his still-hard cock. She fondled her tits, squeezing them down around his penis and playing with them. She brought her breasts together, tighter, tighter, until his cock was mashed between them and started to bleed. He screamed. She quickly reversed position and brought her gory, cum-soaked, hairy bush over his face. She locked her thighs around his head and let his screams vibrate into her pussy. Her thighs pushed his head in tighter to her cunt and its lips slid aside, so that her pussy partially contained his head. She ground in harder. His head slid further into her pussy. He could no longer breathe. She allowed him to suffocate in her hot pussy, feeling his struggles getting weaker while she slowly climaxed, flooding his face and lungs with her hot pussy juice. His struggling ceased. She closed her thighs around his body and ground his body to a gory pulp between them. She smiled, then concentrated on her pussy. She contracted her vaginal muscles until she heard and felt his skull collapse inside her with a bony crunch. She straightened her legs out while keeping her pussy muscles tightened. His head tore free of his body. She shook her thighs and gory pieces of him peeled off. She reached into her pussy and grabbed the crushed remains of his head. She fucked herself with them, letting his brains mix with her cum and stream out onto the bed. Then she took out his head and threw it over to where her earlier victim's bloody remains lay. Emerald eyes burning with delight and playfulness, Felicia turned to the wall above the head of her bed. She punched through the soundproof barrier. Her fist encountered a head on the other side. She grabbed it and squeezed. The sound of a human skull squishing and the hot brains slithering over her closed fist made her smile and moan with pleasure. She brought her hand out of the hole. It dripped with gray brains and red blood. She tore the hole in the wall wider, revealing a shocked middle-aged man staring at his now-headless hooker. She climbed through the wall and kissed him. "Would you like your head to be smeared across my rock-solid breast?" she asked him with a smile. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the back of his head and smashed it into her chest, instantly pulverizing it against her huge breast. She wiped the gory remains of his head over her breasts, gasping when the warm squishy brains trailed over her huge nipples. She climbed back into her room, toweled herself off, and slipped the red dress back on. Her huge butt muscles, enlarged from her activities and the fact that she was enormously horny, tore the dress up the back, revealing the perfect ridged mounds of her ass. Her pecs, also pumped up, shoved her breasts harder into the already tight GG-cups, tearing a line down the middle and revealing even more of her impossibly deep cleavage. Smiling at herself in the mirror, she threw the bloody towels into the bathtub. She then surveyed the carnage of both rooms. Four dead, three men and one woman, all horribly mangled, two of which had suffered horribly before they died, all victims of Felicia's insatiable, sadistic sex drive. She killed because she got off on it. She loved what she did. No more unenthusiastic killings in the arena. Doug Forster's plan had succeeded. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Section V - Recapture Felicia exited the room smiling. She bounced down the stairs, feeling herself up as she did so. She knew she was incredibly sexy and enjoyed the feel of her huge, firm breasts and monstrously powerful ass. She looked up into the balcony. There, it looked like, was the head of the recapture team. Dressed in all black, dark sunglasses (in the smoky club, no less), and wearing an electro- magnetic pulse gun at his hip. The gun was designed to disrupt her nervous system, knock her out without hurting her permanently. Very inconspicuous, she smiled to herself. She looked around. Four more black-suited, serious-looking military types were stationed around the club, all looking for her. The head team member spotted her. She smiled at him and held up three fingers, signaling that she would meet him in a few minutes. He nodded solemly. Well, at least he wasn't too much of an anal-retentive asshole like everybody else at the facility, she noted happily. She ducked into the crowd, not easy for a six foot one immensely muscular beauty to do, and made her way over to where she had left Larry Yale and his big-titted escort. They looked like they were in a serious conversation. Felicia noted with satisfaction that she didn't look bored and that he was spending most of his attention trying not to focus on the blonde's enormous breasts. He was earnestly trying to pay attention to her, but it was hard when all he wanted to do was cup one of her breasts in both of his hands and suck on a swollen nipple. They hadn't noticed Felicia yet. She strolled over, reached over the blonde's (Jenna was her name, right? she thought) shoulder, under her dress, and squeezed Jenna's huge, soft tit. Jenna gasped with pleasure and turned around. "How's it going, guys? I miss anything?" Felicia asked with a smile. "Um, no, not much," Larry stuttered. "Don't let him fool you," Jenna replied with a smile. "We're having a great time. Larry was telling me about the caffeine business and I was just yakking about the hardship of dealing with pushy, asshole guys and worse dykes." "Lesbians, not dykes," Larry muttered. Jenna gave him a whatever look. "Sounds great," Felicia said. She whispered into Jenna's ear, "Unfortunately, I have to go, so you can go home now if you like." Jenna smiled at Felicia. "I actually kinda like him. He's nice and cute in a shy kind of way. I was thinking of letting him come home with me and making him late for work tomorrow. Who knows, maybe he could be my first boyfriend?" She smiled and batted her eyes at Larry, who blushed. Felicia, after a moment of stunned processing, finally said, "Yeah, sounds great. Hey, I'm glad you two hit it off. So, I gotta go. You guys should too. I mean it." She looked hard at Larry. "You remember what I said about being a homicidal maniac? I am. I'm about to start killing, and I would rather you two not be here. Now leave." Shocked and a trifle disbelieving, the new couple hurriedly left the club. Felicia wondered why she warned them. She sort-of liked Larry, yes, but she had sort-of liked Kyle the make-up guy, too. Were the drugs wearing off? she wondered. Why did she feel a small flicker of doubt, a tiny morsel of regret? She decided she would talk to Randy when she got back. But now, to the business at hand. The head recapture agent was not surprised when Felicia popped up right in front of him, seemingly from thin air. "Time to go home," he said. His name plate read Lavaro. "What's your first name, Mr. Lavaro?" she asked. "Teddy," he responded. He had long ago learned to like this nickname and was no longer embarrassed by it. "Come on, Felicia. We found the release team and are not amused. I think we should just destroy you. But my orders are just to bring you in. So come quietly and we won't have any trouble. By the way, it would greatly help if you could tell us where you left a mess, so we can clean it up quickly and efficiently." "Yes, sir, Mr. Lavaro. Teddy. Sir. Let's see, I left one in the bathroom. She's all bloody and crumpled up in the vent. I flushed her titty down the toilet." Felicia giggled. Lavaro's hand neared the pulse gun. "There are four more in the rooms upstairs. They were a lot of fun. Plus, four in an alley about three miles that way. And a guy living above Madame Fashion's Dress Shop, where I got this lovely, though torn, dress. That enough?" Lavaro nodded. Smiling, she reached for his neck but grabbed air. His gun was suddenly facing her right temple. "We are not scientists, Felicia. Now you have the count of three to about-face and present your hands for cuffing." Felicia pouted. "One. Two." Felicia launched herself into the air just as Lavaro fired. The pulse caught a clean-cut young man right in the face. He dropped to the floor. He would wake up in a few hours with a splitting headache and some memory loss, but no long-term damage. Unfortunately, his girlfriend, a pretty Goth with a bright future in accounting ahead of her, was not so lucky. Felicia landed on her head, neatly snapping her neck between powerful thighs. Felicia took off, running for the edge of the balcony. She launched off the edge and caught the hanging lights, causing it to swing wildly. Lavaro took aim and fired just as Felicia let go. The air where her head would have been had she continued her swing on the lights her hand now occupied. The pulse caused every nerve in her hand to fire at once, jerking her whole body and causing her to tumble down to the dance floor below. With cat-like grace she landed on her feet. The other agents began firing wildly into the screaming dancers. Felicia grabbed one in each hand, snapped their necks, and used them as a shield. When the agents stopped to reload, she flung the corpses at them and waded through the panicking crowd. Laughing, she twisted heads off of bodies and ground men and women to paste in her powerful thighs as she kicked them over and stepped on some of their skulls, smashing them into the dance floor. She reached one of the agents, a frightened-looking young man, and grabbed his head, forcing it between her granite thighs. She crushed his skull by flexing her quads, easily grinding it to bloody splinters. She ran superhumanly fast over to another agent and grabbed him in a tremendous bear hug, snapping his spine and crushing his ribs against her huge breasts. She giggled and gave his dead body a quick kiss before tossing it aside. Wheeling around, she dodged the third agent's reloaded pulse gun and knocked it out of her hand. Felicia grabbed the third agent and held her neck between her huge bicep and forearm. Lavaro came slowly down the stairs, gun aimed squarely at Felicia's head. In defiance, she grabbed a nearby cowering man and crushed his skull into her sweaty armpit. Blood and gore ran down her sweat-shined arm. "One step closer and I snap her neck," Felicia warned. Lavaro fired and Felicia flexed her arm, snapping the female agent's neck, before collapsing into an unconscious heap on the floor. Lavaro surveyed the carnage and shook his head. Agents were expensive to train. The big- brass CIA officials would not be happy about this. "Everybody out!" he shouted. The frightened club junkies ran out as fast as they could. He sighed and lifted his walkie- talkie. "Better bring in a fucking huge clean-up crew," he said into it, then looked down at Felicia's gently sleeping bulk. "More trouble than she's worth. They're gonna be sorry," he muttered.