Sunday, December 21, 2014

The Katrina Adventures (Part 4)

Katrina had said ‘one of her boyfriends,’ implying that she’d had a bit of experience at her young age. This made the man’s cock even harder. How dare SHE be the one to have all the sex, and HE was going to die a virgin? It bruised his macho pride to know that this young woman had had multiple sexual conquests, and he hadn't even managed to have one.

Katrina continued telling her story as the man began to fade from lack of air.

“We were in his bedroom, just fooling around, ya know? Oh, yeah – you don’t know, do you? Anyway, we got all hot and bothered, and pretty soon we were fucking like wild beasts. Nothing wrong with that, right? Well, except for the fact that his parents were in the room right next to us. He was making all these ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ sounds and rockin’ the bed like it was a bronco at a rodeo. I couldn’t let him keep up the noise and risk having his parents catch us, so I flipped him onto his back, pinned his arms and legs, and stuffed my hand over his mouth so he would stop screamin’ like a fuckin’ banshee. Well, that move just about blew his little brains. He must’ve released about a quart of spunk into his condom right then. ‘Course, I didn’t have a big o, but guys are really clueless about how to do that, anyway. At least his parents never found out.”

The strangled man tried to listen to the whole story, but as Katrina was rambling on, he pitched into the dark abyss. Katrina felt the man’s cock bump into her crotch; it seemed to be punching out about a quart of juice of its own. She lifted her hips slightly to let the dead man’s ejaculation finish, then smiled down at him as she took away her hand from his crushed throat.

“Well,” said Katrina, “I guess that’s the closest you’ll ever ‘cum’ to the real thing!”

Katrina silently snickered at her lame pun before leaving the dead virgin. She slid down to the bottom bunk and found another young man fast asleep. Using the same technique as before, she quietly hand-choked the man to death while straddling him. In fact, Katrina repeated the procedure throughout the length of bunk beds, silently snuffing the men in their beds. An entire row of bunks was filled with men who had gone to sleep, never to awake again.

Katrina had now wiped out half the sleeping soldiers in that building. The rest of the men were dozing in sleeping bags scattered about the floor. Katrina made her way to the first man in a sleeping bag and considered kill methods.

“Hmm,” said Katrina, “This guy’s on his back, so how about a nice trample?”

Katrina kicked off her shoes and positioned herself for the move. It was hard to judge where his family jewels were inside that sleeping bag. With a single, short jump, she landed on top of the sleeping man with one foot over his mouth and the other on his crotch. The man bolted awake and grabbed Katrina’s ankle. He couldn’t make a sound. A painful explosion erupted in his groin as Katrina’s powerful death-energy surged through her foot and into his balls. She shifted her weight so as to trample his manhood and brutally crush it under the sole of her foot. The power of her trample was extraordinary, and it only took a few seconds to finish off the man. He lathered up the inside of his sleeping bag with his dick porridge and succumbed to the deadly trampling.

Katrina stepped off and went to the next man in a sleeping bag. He lay on his side with his back to her. Katrina quickly took the sleeping bag, zipped it all the way up, and stuffed the man inside. He woke up and tried to make a surprised noise, but Katrina lay down on top of the bag and kept him still and quiet. She stretched the fabric of the bag tight over the man’s face and cut off his oxygen. A few minutes later she was rewarded with a warm, wet feeling seeping through the bag where the man’s cum blasted out. The man instantly stopped moving – he had asphyxiated. Katrina left him wrapped up in his sleeping bag, letting his dead body stew in a puddle of its own sperm broth.

The next man in a sleeping bag shifted around, leaving a large opening in the top of the bag. Katrina secretly slipped inside behind the man. She grabbed him from behind and stroked his cock. It immediately swelled as the man hummed drowsily. Before the man could figure out who was responsible for the pleasant wake up call, he felt himself being tugged down into the bottom of the bag. Katrina then reached through the man’s legs and clutched his balls. With a terrible, smashing grip, she delivered the lethal handshake to his vulnerable gonads. She cupped her hand over his mouth so that the scream was muted. Finished with him, Katrina emerged from inside the sleeping bag and proceeded to her next prey.

Katrina continued to invent nasty ways of killing the men in their sleeping bags, strangling some and asphyxiating others inside the bags. Others received a fatal nut crush, which was a particularly fast way to kill a guy. The men who slept on their backs got a two-footed trample as their method of execution.

It took a long time to complete the job, but when she had finished, Katrina had silently wiped out a room of fifty sleeping men. The assassin girl took one look over her shoulder before she left the room.

“Sweet dreams, boys,” Katrina winked as she exited the dormitory.

Katrina knew that it was a stroke of luck to find so many Red Sword goons asleep at the same time, and that her luck would soon run out.

“They probably sleep in shifts,” said Katrina. “Even in the middle of the night, I bet most of them are still awake.”

Katrina moved to the next building, which looked like another dormitory. She pulled out her submachine gun and quietly prepared to step inside. She threw open the door and jumped inside, her gun ready to fire. But Katrina didn’t shoot: instead, she gaped at what she saw inside.

Dozens of women were inside the dormitory. They were startled when Katrina entered the building. They huddled together in fear, shaking and quivering. The women stared at Katrina with terror in their eyes.

Katrina lowered her machine gun; these women obviously weren’t Red Sword soldiers. From the way they were dressed – in revealing, sluttish dresses and skirts and fuck-me high heels – Katrina knew immediately that they were prostitutes.

“Don’t panic,” said Katrina, “I’m not going to hurt you!”

Most of the women didn’t seem to speak English, and kept cowering fearfully. One woman who looked about Katrina’s age stepped forward.

“You’re not with them, are you?” asked the young woman in perfect English.

“A terrorist? No way,” said Katrina. “I’m here to kill them all.”

The woman smiled and turned to the other women, translating Katrina’s words. The prostitutes’ fear slowly melted away when they realized they had an ally in Katrina.

“My name is Jia,” said the English-speaking girl. “Please excuse us; we thought for a moment that you . . . when you came in here with that gun . . .”

Katrina threw the gun strap over her shoulder and smiled. “I thought there might be a bunch of those Red Butt guys in here, and I was ready to blow ‘em away. That’s all.”

“You must be the warrior woman they always talk about!” said Jia. “They tell each other stories about the lone woman who killed hundreds of their soldiers. I thought it was just a story or a myth. It always seemed to get them excited; it made them. . .” Jia made a spraying gesture near her groin. “But I never thought the stories were REAL! Is it true?”

“Yeah, it’s true,” said Katrina, blushing modestly.

Jia jumped up and down and clapped her hands.

“Then we’re free!” said Jia excitedly. She told the other women the good news, and they, too, became excited.

“What have they done to you?” asked Katrina.

“Terrible things,” said Jia in a low voice. “They gathered the whores from our village – most of us against our will – and took us to this place. They said that their boys were too . . . what is the word? Horny? They said their boys needed a way to relieve their sexual tension. So they took us here and imprisoned us. We are their slaves. Every day, three or four times a day, they send in a brigade of men. They are brutes! They treat us like animals and they rape us. They give us very little food and water. If we try to escape, they shoot us. Last week they lined up six girls and shot them dead, just to entertain themselves. But those six girls are in a better place than we are. They promised to kill all of us when they’re bored with us. We hoped for that day, because it meant we would be free. But we knew that, after they killed us, they would go back to the village and gather up more girls – even girls who are not whores like us. Soon all the whores would be dead, and they would have to take ordinary women away from their families and enslave them. It’s . . .”

Jia broke down and began to sob. Katrina put an arm around her to console her. Anger seethed within Katrina’s bosom.

“They’re not going to hurt you anymore,” vowed Katrina. “I’ll see to that. But I could use your help in the process. Jia, do you think these women can help me destroy the men?”

Jia didn’t even bother to translate the question. “Oh, of course! We’ll do anything! But we have no weapons . . .”

“Oh, yes, you do!” said Katrina as she cupped her hands over Jia’s tits.

Jia gasped, then smiled in realization at what Katrina was saying.

“Your bodies are the deadliest weapons in a female’s arsenal,” said Katrina. “Just do what I tell you, and it will work out fine. Now, when are the men going to be here?”

“About ten minutes,” said Jia. “What do you want us to do?”

“Do you have a long rope?”

“Outside the dormitory,” said Jia. “We’ll go get it!”

Jia asked one of the girls to fetch the rope as Katrina instructed them.

“Just act normally,” said Katrina. “Let them think it’s just another night in the brothel. Wait until I give you the signal.”

The girls understood; they trusted Katrina to deliver them from this wretched place. When the girl returned with the rope, Katrina set about tying it to a far wall and creating a series of loose loops along the entire length. She strung the rope along the length of the wall at the head of a row of cots. At the sound of footsteps and male voices, Katrina hid herself under a pile of blankets as the whores scattered about the room. A second later dozens of men burst in.

The young bulls licked their chops as they eyed the whores lustfully. Their requisite cherry-red swimsuits were bulging in anticipation of their cruel conquest. The men dispersed through the room, each one taking a woman in his meaty hooks, forcing himself upon her.

Katrina watched the whole debauched spectacle from beneath the blankets. With outrage growing inside, she saw the men rip off the women’s clothes and shove them down onto the cots. The men started to slide off their skimpy swim shorts as they mounted the women.

“They don’t seem as scared tonight,” remarked one man.

“Yeah,” said another. “Maybe they’re starting to like it!”

“It’s about time they got used to it,” said the first man. “We’ve been banging them four times a day for the last two weeks. You’d think by now these bitches would loosen up a bit and get wet.”

“Dirty whores,” said the second man, “They don’t get wet because they’re afraid we’re gonna kill ‘em. Dumb sluts are right, of course! We’ll kill ‘em when we’re bored with ‘em. We’ll kill ‘em when we want a new pussy to fuck.”

The men laughed as they plunged their huge cocks into the women. They pumped roughly and without passion – they were just fulfilling a physical need. The girls pretended to enjoy it, smiling and writhing along. This surprised the men and made them ecstatic.

“Hey, you’re right!” called out one man as he humped the woman smiling beneath him. “I think they’re starting to enjoy it!”

The men didn’t understand why the women were all smiling, but Katrina knew. She continued to watch, not wanting to let the men continue their torment of the girls, but waiting for the right moment.

“Right when they cum,” said Katrina. “Right about . . . NOW!”

Katrina’s voice echoed through the dormitory. The girls could hear it above the loud moans of the near-orgasm men. The girls swiftly reached behind their heads and under the cots to pick up the long rope. Each girl slipped a knot over the head of the man on top of her. The men looked surprised by the sudden appearance of a rope around their necks, but they were too deep into sexual nirvana to stop fucking.

Katrina threw off the blankets covering her and gripped the end of the rope tightly in her hands. With a mighty yank, she tugged the rope taut, closing all the loops over the men’s throats.

Dozens of men suddenly found themselves choking in mid-fuck. They struggled to remove the rope squeezing their necks, but it was impossible to do. Some men tried to jump off the cots, but the women wrapped their legs around their backs and held them down. The women seemed to be enjoying it: they embraced the men close to their breasts, holding them down as Katrina strangled them with the long rope.

The men gyrated and wriggled. Most of them still had their cocks inside the women. They were about to go over the top right when Katrina yanked the rope, and there was no turning back. Even though the men were getting strangled, they couldn’t cease their bodily functions. They were desperate to survive and desperate to cum at the same time. A tiny corner of their primal brains seemed to associate survival with spreading their seed, so the men tried to jack the women full of man-milk.

The women wouldn’t give the men that satisfaction. They slid the men’s dicks out of their pussies, letting them flop around hopelessly. Some of the girls even grabbed the throbbing third legs and squeezed them to stop the flow of spunk. The men were dying in agony. Their lower bodies bounced around as they began to shoot their loads. White juice splashed over the girls’ bellies as they looked into the eyes of the asphyxiating men. The girls smiled at them and taunted them, blowing them kisses as they watched their cruel tormentors receive poetic justice.

Katrina happily kept the rope as tight as can be, constricting the men’s throats with her superior strength. The men continued to jiggle and juggle in the cots, their cum squirting everywhere as they strangled to death. It took a few minutes to snuff them all out, but Katrina finally did it. Dozens of Red Sword men lay dead on top of the whores with their sexual discharge moistening the women and the sheets. The women extricated themselves from beneath the bodies, kicking and punching the dead men in the process.

The girls got dressed. Jia ran up to Katrina, wiping a man’s spunk off her tummy.

“Thank you!” said Jia. “Thank you for letting us help you kill those evil men! It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It was almost . . .”

Jia blushed and put her hand over her mouth in a gesture of shame. Katrina laughed; she knew that Jia and the others had gotten a kick out of kicking off the men.

“Don’t feel bad,” said Katrina. “I enjoyed it, too. It was self-defense.”

“Are we free to leave now?” asked Jia.

Katrina sighed grimly. “I’m afraid not. There are still a few hundred of these assholes on the base. I have to annihilate the rest of them. It’s not safe for you girls to leave yet.”

“Maybe we can help you kill them!” offered Jia, again blushing at her eagerness to join the battle.

Katrina pondered the offer. “Well, I don’t want to put you at risk. But if you think the girls are up to it, it might help me.”

“We’ll do anything you tell us,” said Jia. “You’re the bravest warrior of all; we know you can defeat these stupid men.”

“Thanks,” said Katrina. “I’m glad you have confidence in me. Now, where are the other men right now? Are there any large groups of them in one place?”

“Many of them are sleeping in the other dormitory right now,” said Jia.

“I already wasted those guys,” said Katrina nonchalantly. “Any others?”

“Well, there might be a lot at the movie theater,” said Jia. “They go there at night to watch dirty movies and . . .” Jia made a jacking off gesture with her hand.

“Sounds perfect,” said Katrina. “Can you show me the way?”


Jia led Katrina to a building not far from the brothel dormitory. Sounds from a film could be heard outside. The volume was quite high, and Katrina and Jia distinctly heard a woman’s voice moaning with pleasure.

“Why do they need to watch pornos if they have enslaved hookers?” asked Katrina, bewildered.

“They are the horniest boys ever,” said Jia. “They could fuck ten times a day if their leaders would allow them.”

“Let’s go behind the screen,” said Katrina as she led Jia to the back of the building.

Katrina made Jia hide in the shadows and stay low as she entered the cinema alone. She was in a small space behind the movie screen. The screen was basically a large tent canvas stretched from the floor to the ceiling of the building. The sound of the movie blared from a couple of speakers nearby; Katrina listened to the dialogue.

“Oh, come on in, big boy!” a woman’s voice moaned. “Come on in and fill me up with your love meat!”

Although Katrina couldn’t see it, the movie screen showed a voluptuous blonde woman with her legs spread wide apart. Her glistening pussy lips were filling the center of the screen. The porn actress was caressing her massive clit, coaxing the audience as she played with her throbbing glans. The camera zoomed in on the woman’s cunt, showing a close up as she masturbated.

Throughout the theater, Red Sword soldiers were enjoying the show. The men reclined in their seats with their feet on the chairs in front of them, their hands working their erections, their voices rumbling in contentment.

“Oh, come on!” came the voice of the actress. “Give it to me! You know how bad I want it! Oh, come on! Fuck me like a whore!”

The men moaned ‘yeahhhhh’ as their masturbation matched the intensity of the woman on the screen. They wanted to shoot their spunk all over the screen in front of them, to hose down the larger-than-life pussy of the porn star.

At that moment, with the vast image of moist womanhood filling the movie screen, Katrina took out her knife and tore through the canvas. She made a large, vertical slit that coincided with the celluloid image of the pussy. Stepping through the hole in the screen with her laser gun in hand, Katrina opened fire on the masturbating men.



Katrina raked the front row of the movie theater with laser gunfire. The men sitting there felt their chests and guts burn as she nailed them. Their peckers released their juice right as the lasers penetrated the men’s bodies. The dead men slumped down in their seats, smoke coming from their bellies and chests and jizz dripping from their still-solid pricks.

At first, with the light dancing over the canvas, the men couldn’t tell what was happening. As beams of light erupted from the screen, they were dazzled and confused and remained in their seats, whacking off.



Katrina mowed down the second row of the theater with automatic fire from her laser gun. Some of the men had their wanking finished prematurely as Katrina zapped them in the balls. Men screamed as their packages were fried by the intense beams. Others got drilled in the center of the chest, killing them instantly but allowing their ejaculations to finish even in death.

By now the idiot men realized something was wrong with the movie they were watching. Men leapt to their feet and tried to reach the exits, but their running was inhibited by the red swimsuits around their knees and ankles. They tripped over each other and fell. They were also slowed down considerably by the thick poles hanging between their legs. Men ran bow-legged to the door, their rigid peckers swaying in the air.

Katrina took aim at a group of men with their backs to her as they headed for the exit.

“Ooh, I just LOVE those tight buns!” said Katrina as she aimed her laser at the young studs’ firm asses.



The men felt the lasers shoot them in the butt. Like a chain reaction, the ass-shooting made their cocks stick out straight and begin to ooze. The men stood there with their hands grabbing their wounded butts, even as their dicks were releasing large amounts of cock punch.

Katrina saw drops of white stuff falling between the men’s legs. She fired again, this time shooting the men in their backs. The men yelled and slammed into the wall of the building. They’d been laser-fucked first through the ass and now between the shoulder blades, and they all but dead now. Their naked bodies slid down the wall together, leaving a trail of sticky spooge there as their cocks slimed it up. The men crumpled to the floor, their bodies still sizzling a little from the laser shots.

Several men were trying to reach for weapons as they backed out of the theater. They aimed their machine guns at the screen and fired. The shots tore through the canvas just over Katrina’s head. She returned fire.



A bunch of men with machine guns was wiped out instantly, the laser shots slicing through their muscular chests. They fell backwards onto the floor with their dicks pointing into the air, pumping out white honey as the men snuffed it.

Katrina had turned the movie theater into a bloodbath. Masturbating men everywhere were spilling their wads for the last time as Katrina gunned down the young hunks with her laser gun. The men had come to watch a porno flick and have some good wrist action, but it ended in death for all of them. Laser beams kept shooting out of the image of that cunt on the screen – it was as if womanhood itself were punishing the men. They were caught in mid-wank and blown away. Some of them never saw Katrina; they died thinking that somehow the silver screen pussy had shot them. It killed them for being horny; it killed them for being lewd; it killed them simply for being male.

And they died like all the men of the Red Sword did: kicking, screaming, and creaming.

Katrina laughed as she finished off the last man in the movie theater, zapping him with a laser blast to the bellybutton. He grabbed his extended cock with both hands as he sank to his knees. His charred navel emitted smoke as he knelt there. A majestic volcano of spunk blasted out of his cock. He then he fell forward, planting his face on the floor and kicking out his legs.

Katrina stepped down from the screen and walked through the aisles of the theater. She stepped over the bodies of dead men and almost slipped on the semen coating the floor.

“Yuck,” said Katrina as she scraped the slime off the bottom of her shoes. “Is that why movie theater floors are always sticky?”

All the men in the movie theater were dead. Katrina walked back to where she’d left Jia.

“What happened in there?” asked Jia excitedly.

“I came. They came. I conquered.”

“Did you kill them all?” asked Jia, trembling with excitement.

Katrina displayed her laser gun proudly across her breast. “I fried every last one of them with this little baby right here.”

“Good job!” said Jia. “Now we have to kill the rest before they find out what happened.”

“Now you’re thinking like an assassin girl!” said Katrina brightly.


The volume in the movie theater was so loud that no one in the camp heard the battle taking place inside. They all thought it was just another action movie. Katrina and Jia were able to sneak away from the theater undetected.

“Where are the leaders of this group of morons?” asked Katrina.

“That building over there,” said Jia as she pointed to a low structure. Four guards stood outside.

“We’ll have to take care of them first,” said Katrina. “Jia, get three of your girls and hurry back here. Quickly!”

Jia raced off. In less than a minute, she was back with three more women.

“I want you four to act as decoys. Draw the guards’ attention. Use sex as bait if you have to. I need to sneak inside that building and kill their commanding officers.”

“We understand,” said Jia.

Jia and the other three women walked out of the shadows and approached the guards. They bristled at the sight of the whores.

“What are you doing out of your quarters?” one of the guards demanded.

“We got lonely,” said Jia coyly.

The men immediately let down their guard.

“You couldn’t wait for the next brigade, huh?”

“No,” said Jia, “We just had to have some manhood stuffed in us right now!”

Jia curled her finger seductively at the men, harkening them into the bushes. The four guards dutifully followed, their packages pounding in their red swim trunks.

“Good work,” whispered Katrina as she moved for the door.

Katrina slipped inside the Red Sword officers’ quarters. It was completely dark; all of the men were asleep. She counted six doors, and then opened the first one.

Lying on the bed was a big, brawny man. Katrina tiptoed toward him. She silently moved in for the kill, when suddenly . . .


. . . A loose floorboard squeaked loudly as she stepped on it. She cringed and stopped in her tracks as the officer stirred awake. The man rubbed his eyes and peered into the dark at the silhouette in his room.

“GUARDS!” the man shouted as he jumped out of bed and lunged at Katrina.

Katrina raised her laser gun and pulled the trigger. All that came out was a sound like a dying motor. She looked down at the display panel on the gun and saw a flashing light.

“Great time for the battery to die,” said Katrina as she tossed aside the laser gun.

The hulking officer charged at Katrina, picked her up, and threw her across the room. She crashed into the far wall, her back slamming into the wood. She massaged her shoulder as the man came back for more. He punched Katrina in the face, drawing some blood at the corner of her lip.

“That’s it,” said Katrina, “No more fucking around!”

Katrina jumped to her feet right as the man grabbed her by the throat. He began to squeeze her with all his might, but Katrina slipped her arms inside his and broke his grip on her neck. The man looked surprised by Katrina’s strength.

“I know you,” said the officer. “I know who you are!”

Now there was fear in his eyes. The other five officers rushed into the room and watched as the bikini-clad assassin backed their comrade against the wall. The man took swings at Katrina, and she dodged all of them. His back against the wall and Katrina sending him an icy, deadly look, the man cried for help.

The other five officers rushed Katrina. She calmly spun around, drawing her dagger from her thigh sheath. She flung it at one of the attacking men, impaling him in the gut. He grabbed the fixture on his abdomen and sank to his knees, whimpering and coughing as his life ebbed away.

Two more officers ran at Katrina. At this time, Katrina noticed that all of the officers were naked.

“They sleep in the nude,” Katrina thought as she prepared to fight the next two officers. “How cute!”

The two officers stopped right in front of Katrina. As she faced them, she felt an arm wrap around her neck from behind – it was the first officer she had confronted and backed against the wall.

“I’m . . . going . . . to deal . . . with you . . . later,” Katrina wheezed under the pressure of the first officer’s chokehold.

With deft precision, Katrina took the first officer’s arm and wrenched it downward, breaking some bones in the process. The big officer wailed in agony as he rolled on the floor.

Katrina turned her attention to the two officers who stood before her. Their hard-ons were wagging impressively between their legs as the men took a fighting stance. They charged simultaneously, throwing punches and kicks that Katrina easily deflected. She grabbed the leg of the guy on the left and yanked it into the air, flipping him onto his back. She then grabbed the arm of the guy on the right and flipped him over as well. Now the two men were lying stunned on the floor. Katrina jumped into the air and landed on the men’s balls, crushing them with the soles of her shoes. The two officers screamed and grabbed Katrina’s ankles as they writhed beneath her lethal feet. Their manhood was being trampled into nothingness; combined with Katrina’s powerful death-force, the men had no hope. The other officers watched in awe as their two associates were trampled to death.

Katrina stepped off the two dead officers and looked at the other three. “Who’s next?”

One man reached for a handgun on a desk. Katrina zoomed toward him and grabbed his wrist, bashing his hand against the desk so that he dropped the gun.

“Nah-ah,” said Katrina, “If I don’t get a gun, then you don’t get one, either.”

Three officers all converged on Katrina, pouncing on her and trying to smash her between them. She elbowed all of them, sending the three men flying backwards through the room.

The officer who had tried to grab the gun was lying on the floor nearest to Katrina. He tried to crawl away, sliding backwards on his bare ass, shaking his head as the deadly girl approached him.

“Don’t kill me!”

“Too late,” said Katrina.

Katrina kicked the man once in the gut. His abs were turned inside out by the ferocious kick; it sent him into terrible convulsions. He arched his back as blood began to trickle from his mouth. The man’s dick jiggled as it stood straight up, unencumbered by clothing. As the man went through his last spasms, a hot spurt of white cum flew into the air from his jiggling member. The droplets fell back and landed on his belly, right where Katrina had delivered the fatal kick.

An officer picked himself up and flung himself at Katrina.

“Yaaaaaah!” he cried as he ran.

Katrina held out her arm, stock-straight. The man’s throat ran right into her outstretched hand. His war cry was immediately silenced as he made an audible gulp. Katrina lifted him up with one hand, his toes dragging against the floor. The man tried to pry away Katrina’s fingers.

“You have to do better than that,” said Katrina as she crushed the man’s windpipe with a loud ‘crrrrrick!’ She tossed his corpse to the floor.

An officer was trying to sneak out the door when Katrina grabbed him by the shoulders from behind. She turned him around and slammed her fist into his gut. The man doubled up and clutched his stomach, yearning for some relief from the pain. He fell into a ball on the floor, moaning as he contemplated his last few seconds of life.

Now only the big officer with the broken arm remained. He was still rolling around on the ground, holding his useless limb. Katrina picked up his head and stuffed his face between her tits, smothering him. He resisted for some time, but in a few minutes his struggling ceased. Katrina watched a massive load of jism spill from his cock and knew that the man was gone. She let him fall and stood up.

The six officers were dead. Katrina removed her dagger from the belly of one man and slid it back into its thigh sheath. She exited the officers’ quarters and began to look for Jia.

“Jia?” Katrina called out in a whisper. “Where are you?”

There was rustling in the bushes nearby. Katrina got ready to fight the four guards the women had seduced. To her surprise, she didn’t need to fight anyone . . .

. . . Jia and the other three girls emerged from the bushes, smiling and smeared with blood.

“Jia?” said Katrina. “What happened? Are you all right? Where are the four guards you distracted?”

“We did more than distract them,” Jia giggled. “We killed them!”

Katrina giggled, too. “How did you do it?”

Jia and the other girls held up bloodstained daggers. “With these! We got the boys to drop their pants. They thought they were going to get laid. They were wrong! We teased them and played with them, making their cocks grow big. Just when they were ready to fuck, we cut off their cocks and slit their throats.”

“Well, I’ll be,” said Katrina in amazement. “Good for you! Thanks for helping me out.”

“You’re very welcome. Is there anything else we can do?”

“Possibly,” said Katrina. “We’re almost done here. I just need to get to my backpack with all my equipment. I left it near your dormitory.”

“Then let’s go!”


Katrina retrieved her backpack, weapons, and equipment. She told Jia and the other women to keep a low profile and stay out of danger. They seemed a little disappointed that they couldn’t join in on the action, but they agreed to stay behind.

Katrina consulted her map and decided that her next target should be the power generating station. It was a small plant that supplied just enough electricity for the Red Sword base. She slipped inside and looked around.

There were two groups of men: a handful of workers and guards who were standing around inside the actual turbine room, and another team of technicians inside a control room. Katrina headed for the first group of men. She hid with her back pressed against the pipes and conduits, keeping out of view. She tiptoed closer and looked for a way to get them. There was a long electrical wire running by her head that had thick insulation on it. She ripped it down. The place where the wire had been severed was a sparking mass of exposed copper cable. Katrina took the insulated part of the wire in her hand and pulled, gathering a long coil. She stepped out from her hiding place and stared down the men.

“Hi there, guys,” said Katrina, the electrical wire sparking at one end. “Wanna play catch with me?”

The men stared at her, confused by her sudden appearance and the profusion of electrical wire in her grip.

Katrina swung her wrist over her head and whipped the electrical cord like a lasso. Then, with a generous toss, she released the wire and threw it in the direction of one of the men. The idiot caught the sparking end of the wire in his hands.


The man’s hair stood on end and flames shot out his ears. A strong electrical current coursed through him and burned everything inside. He cooked.

Katrina pulled the cable back as the other men ran for cover. Without hesitating, she threw the wire again, cracking it like a whip. This time the frayed wire struck a man right above his Speedos in the bellybutton. This new umbilical cord was nothing like the original: it sent fire and smoke out his back and his mouth as he electrocuted and died.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Katrina kept snapping her electrified whip at the scurrying men like a dominatrix from Hell. She tracked them all down; there was nowhere to hide. Within moments she had managed to nail every single guy in the turbine room. Smoldering corpses twitched on the floor.

Katrina turned to the control room. Three technicians were inside, stunned by the attack. They would’ve run away, but their only exit was blocked by the young woman with the hot whip. Katrina stepped inside the control room.

“I’ve come here to shut down the power,” Katrina told them. “Party’s over; lights out.”

One of the men reached into a drawer and pulled out a handgun. In the time it took him to raise and aim it, Katrina picked up a chair and hurled it at him.



The leg of the chair hit the man in his gut, penetrating deep inside. Blood trickled from the wound. He toppled backwards and fell dead on his back, the gun clattering out of his hand.

The other two men stood paralyzed with fear. Katrina smiled at them; she was getting that feeling of delight again, the sensation she felt when she had a man cornered and he knew it meant imminent death.

The men made a mad dash to escape. As the first one tried to slide past Katrina, she grabbed his head and shoved his neck between her thighs. She also grabbed the second man and thrust his face between her boobs.


The man between Katrina’s thighs was on his hands and knees, scraping the floor as he tried to get out. He felt her silky smooth inner thighs collapse on his throat. There was an abnormally loud crunching sound as Katrina smashed his neck. The man instantly fell dead. She kept him clasped in her thighs, however.

The man in Katrina’s breasts was fighting for a chance to breathe. She simply hunched her shoulders forward so that her mountains flooded his face. He sucked. He squirmed. He flailed. He died.

Having offed the last two technicians, Katrina let their corpses fall to the floor. She walked over to the control panel and looked for a way to cut the power.

“They don’t really teach you how to do these things in Super Agent school.”

After fiddling with some switches, Katrina hit the jackpot. The turbines shut down and all the lights went out. Now it was just a matter of getting her night vision goggles and setting to work. . .


Around the Red Sword base, men reacted to the power loss by arming themselves and fanning out in groups to protect the perimeter.

Katrina searched through the contents of her backpack and found her night vision goggles. GSL had equipped her with state-of-the-art goggles: they looked like sleek sunglasses rather than the usual bulky devices. She slid them on and was immediately able to see her surroundings more clearly. Teams of soldiers were suddenly visible to her in the dark, their green shapes easily seen with the goggles.

“Now I know where you all are,” said Katrina.

Katrina chose her weapons. She threw her submachine gun over her shoulder and strapped a belt around her waist that carried extra ammo clips and a handgun.

The night vision glasses gave Katrina a major tactical advantage over the terrorists. She was able to spot them and plan her attack without being seen or heard. She selected a particularly vulnerable squad of men that was huddled behind a concrete wall at the eastern edge of the base.

The infrared images of four men illuminated Katrina’s glasses. She skulked towards them from an oblique angle. When she was right behind them, she took action.

Katrina kicked out at one man and delivered a crushing blow to his back. He practically snapped in two. His body swayed and fell forward, knocking down one of his comrades.

The other two men spun around and lowered their guns, but Katrina already had them. She unleashed a thunderous punch to the bare abs of one guy and, using her other hand, whipped her dagger out of its thigh sheath and flung it at the second guy.

The ab-punched guy coughed and gurgled as his insides ruptured. He collapsed, holding his mortal injury. In seconds he’d be coffin material.

The dagger flew through the air and stuck the other man right between the eyes. He fell dead immediately.

The man who’d been knocked down was back on his feet and ready to shoot when Katrina dove and slid between his parted legs. She moved so quickly that when the man fired his gun, the bullets shot through empty air. By the time he realized that the assassin chick was underneath him, it was too late – he was a goner. Katrina reached up and snatched his hanging fruit, squeezing them together in vise-like grip. The sudden grab caused him to jerk his load right into his red shorts. The man yelped in distress, but his agony was short-lived. He fell to his knees, his hands covering his groin, and expired right there.

Katrina stood up and dusted off her hands. She yanked her dagger out of the man’s forehead, wiped the blood off on his skivvies, and put it back in its sheath. In a matter of minutes, she knew that more soldiers would converge on her location, having heard the report of gunfire. She grabbed a hand grenade from one of the dead terrorists before hopping over the wall to wait.

A noisy group of men descended on the scene. They found four of their buddies sprawled out dead.

“What the hell happened to ‘em?”

“Looks like that assassin bitch got ‘em,” said one man.

“She’s a real slut, ain’t she?”

“Damn right. If I get my hands on her, I’m gonna. . .”

Right then there was an explosion just a hundred yards away – Katrina had tossed the hand grenade to create a diversion. The men flinched.

“Over there!” one of them yelled. “You two stay here; the rest of you come with me. Let’s check it out.”

Most of the men hurried away to investigate the explosion. The two that stayed behind gawked at the dead men around them.

“Look at this guy,” said one of the guards. “He’s got a load of cum in his shorts. How do ya suppose that happened?”

“Dunno,” said the other guard. “I heard that a lot of her victims are found that way. Don’t know if she makes ‘em whack off before she kills ‘em, or it just happens as she’s doin’ it. Whatever it is, it’s fuckin’ eerie.”

“You don’t think,” said the first guard as he looked nervously in sidelong glances, “she’s anywhere near us, do you?”

There was a chilly pause before the second guard answered him: “Nah.”

Katrina jumped down from the top of the wall and landed right next to the two guards. The whites of their eyes shone in the dark as they petrified with fear. They groped for their guns. Katrina ripped both machine guns out of their hands and tossed them over her shoulders.

“Your next best option,” Katrina told them, “is to run like hell.”

The two men turned and tried to run away, but Katrina simply grabbed hold of their red swimsuits and held them in place.

“I never said it would work,” said Katrina as she pulled both men to her chest.

Katrina swung her arms up, crooking one around each man’s neck. She lifted them up until they were several inches off the ground. With both men now in an unbreakable chokehold, she let out a low laugh.

“Ah, boys will be boys,” said Katrina with a note of amusement in her voice. “They like to play hard to get with me. But they’re never hard to get – just HARD.”

Although Katrina couldn’t see it, her prediction was correct: the two men getting their throats wrung were erecting massive monuments to Katrina in their Speedos. They spent the first minute or two of their asphyxiation scratching at Katrina’s arms, trying to pry them off their throats. When it was obvious that their efforts were futile, they changed strategy and reached for their dicks. They slipped off their cherry red swimsuits and began to manipulate their mushrooming man-tools. Katrina felt their arms hammering away.

“You Red Sword guys really need to meet more women, you know that?” said Katrina.

The men in her grasp steadily worked themselves to a heated state. Their oxygen-starved lungs sought relief, but Katrina pressed harder on their throats.

“Almost there?” asked Katrina.

The two men responded with violent shivers and jerking hips. They banged their butts against Katrina’s waist as their jerk-off jamboree went into autopilot. Screaming blobs of white honey hurtled out of their fat shafts. As the sticky stuff started to drip in smaller volumes and their hard-ons became less hard, the choked men surrendered their lives to the deadly woman. Katrina could hear the men’s rubber flip-flops slapping against their heels as their feet twitched. Soon thereafter the men’s muscles stiffened until they were as straight as a board. The tension in their sinews then released as the men went limp. When their flip-flops slipped off their feet, Katrina knew they were permanently defunct. She heaved them aside.

Katrina adjusted her special shades and scanned the horizon. Men were gathered near the center of the compound; she would need more diversions to scatter and divide them. Fortunately, the hand grenades proved to be an excellent tool for the job.

“I bet I can get some more at the armory,” said Katrina as she hustled toward the building that housed their weapons and ammunition.

Katrina skulked around the corner of the arms depot, careful to avoid notice by the two guards at the door. She climbed atop the roof and stood directly over the place where the men were stationed. Aiming her jump perfectly, she touched down right between the sentries.

The two men turned toward her to shoot. A 180-degree roundhouse kick prevented them from firing at her, as she punted away their machine guns. The unarmed men sensed that the situation was dire, but not much else registered in their brains in the second before Katrina pummeled them. Her left leg slammed into one sentry’s crotch and her right fist struck the other’s taut abs. Both men blasted backwards from the attack, touching the respective parts of their bodies that had been annihilated. They crashed into the dirt and rolled around. Their bodies became jumbles of tremors; they groaned in agony for several seconds before the onset of death.

Katrina opened the door to the armory and stepped inside. Two men were gathering weapons. They turned and saw Katrina. They made a vain attempt to load their guns as Katrina picked up a crate of rifles and threw it at them. The heavy box struck them and knocked them down. It landed on top of the chests of both men, trapping them underneath so that their lower bodies stuck out.

The men were straining to lift the large crate off their chests when Katrina attacked them. Their crotches were exposed and vulnerable as they lay trapped under the crate. Katrina calmly stepped between the first man’s legs and planted a solid toe-kick in his balls. He howled in anguish as his legs bent up, then slowly slid to earth again. He was finished.

Katrina stepped to the second man and kicked him in the crotch, too. His legs shook mightily from the fatal ball busting. His toes flexed a few times as they made involuntary muscle spasms after the man died.

Katrina located a stash of rocket-propelled grenade launchers. She grabbed one and took a few grenades to go with it. She slipped out of the armory and looked for a good place to fire the weapon.

There was a low hill just outside the depot that served her needs nicely. Katrina shouldered the grenade launcher and fired one grenade toward the north end of the base and another grenade toward the south end. There were a couple of concussive blasts as the small missiles blew up.

“That should catch their attention,” said Katrina.

Now the center of the base was almost deserted as Red Sword soldiers rushed to confront the cause of the grenade blasts at opposite ends of the compound. Katrina waltzed right into the central square of the base, using her night vision glasses to spot signs of trouble.

With her night goggles, Katrina saw a pair of soldiers racing to investigate the blasts. She concealed herself behind the corner of a building to ambush them. When they fell into her trap by running around the corner, she tripped the first guard, who pitched forward and landed spread-eagled in the dirt.

The second man followed right behind the first; Katrina drew her dagger from her thigh sheath and quickly slit his throat. The man clutched his neck as he nose-dived and bit the dust.

The first man was still on the ground, slightly dazed, as he rolled onto his back. He was staring up at Katrina, who had a handgun pointed at him. His eyes opened wide when he realized he’d been tripped by a young blonde babe in a bikini who was now pointing a handgun at him. He would’ve liked to ponder his predicament a bit longer – the bulge in his shorts revealed this fact – but he didn’t have the chance. Without a word, she squeezed the trigger. The bullet shot the supine man in the chest, killing him instantly. A wet spot appeared as he filled his tight, red swimsuit with spunk. Even though the man had been shot dead, the mound between his legs kept rising and falling in rhythm with the waves of cum.

“I wish I knew how they did they even after I kill them,” said Katrina in amazement. “Horny even in death!”

A few minutes later, Katrina noticed a squad of men marching in her direction. She quickly ducked into an open doorway and waited for them to pass. As they trudged by, she jumped out and followed them. A pair of men bringing up the rear heard footsteps behind them. They turned around. Fists flew at them, pounding their bellies with the force of a locomotive. They grunted and dropped, spitting blood through their teeth. They lay side by side, jinking in their shorts as they bailed out of this world.

The next two men in the column heard the noise and spun around. They didn’t understand what happened to them, but they found themselves in Katrina’s clutches, her hands scrunching up the fronts of their Speedos. The assassin reduced their beefy packages to a pulp. Although the two men didn’t think they were sexually aroused, they were surprised by the last sensation that passed through their dying bodies: that of warm waves of spunk squirting out of their wrecked manhood.

Katrina stepped over the crumpling hunks and was about to grab the next pair when a voice from behind startled her.

“Lookout! There she is!”

Katrina whirled around and saw eight men with machine guns standing just a few yards away behind her. The eight men who’d been marching along turned around to face Katrina with their weapons drawn.

“Think fast,” said Katrina to herself, “or you’re a dead Super Agent.”

Caught in between, with just a few nanoseconds to spare, Katrina hit the deck. The crossfire erupted with insane intensity. Katrina had ducked just in time, causing the dimwitted Red Sword gunmen to open fire on each other.

A hail of bullets between the two sides cut down every man. Eight men on one side got their chests and guts ripped with machine gun fire; eight men on the other side found themselves newly perforated by bullets. They all wilted and fell in bloody disarray, their lives cut short by their own ineptitude.

Only one man was still alive; he was moaning and stretching his hand out to Katrina.

“Please. . . save me!” he groaned.

“No way,” said Katrina. “It’s my job to dust you guys.”

“If you won’t help me,” the wounded man said, “then at least finish me off.”

“Gladly,” said Katrina as she took the man’s head and forced it into her cleavage.

The man jiggled in her respectably round tits, his face lost between the mounds. The gunshots probably would’ve killed him alone, but the tit-smothering Katrina gave him sped up the process. In a matter of seconds, the man asphyxiated between her fleshy knockers. Katrina let him slip off and join the rest of his dead pals.

“I don’t have to worry about the last guard patrols,” Katrina convinced herself. “Who cares if a few dozen of these Red Sword guys are still here? Their leadership is dead, their base is destroyed. I think it’s time to go home.”

Katrina was about to make a call to GSL and ask to be picked up for the ride home when she noticed green shapes moving through her field of vision. Her night vision glasses had picked up several dozen men converging on the main square of the compound. She saw them creeping through the trees at the edge of the square, their weapons drawn as they circled her position. She was surrounded.

“I’m totally fucked,” said Katrina. “I’m gonna die now!”

Katrina threw a clip into her submachine gun as she looked around for cover. She ducked behind a building and peered around the corner at the line of advancing soldiers.

“There are too many of them! There’s no way out! And Special Forces won’t be able to get here in time to save me!” Katrina began to sweat. “I’m a dead bitch!”

Katrina began thinking of ways to escape. Maybe she could try running at the line of soldiers and jumping over them? But then she would have her back to them, and they would get a clean shot at her as she ran. She had few options. The outlook was grim.

“I will NOT let these Red Sword dumb-fucks kill me!” said Katrina with determination. “I’m not going down without a fight!”

Katrina peeked around the corner again at the advancing troops.

“What? There are MORE of them?” Katrina saw a second line of green figures in her night vision glasses, moving in behind the first. But somehow these figures looked different. They looked . . . smaller . . . thinner . . . more feminine.

“Jia!” cried Katrina.

Katrina recognized them immediately: Jia and the rest of the whores were sneaking up behind the Red Sword guys. And the whores were armed to the teeth: Katrina could make out the AK47s and Uzis carried by the green figures in her night goggles.

The Red Sword soldiers were closing in on Katrina’s position. They were about to step out of the forest and into the open square when gunfire erupted. Loud blasts of machine gun fire filled the night air, followed by piercing screams.

Brrrrat-a-tat-tat! Brrrrat-a-tat-tat! Brrrrat-a-tat-tat!





Katrina watched a row of men get nailed in the back by Jia’s girls. The men danced around as they were blown away by the vengeful prostitutes, who seemed to be venting all their anger on their enslavers. Uzis and AK47s emptied their deadly bullets into the line of men. Entire groups of young studs got wiped out in an instant, their bare backs and chests ripped with hot lead. All of their well-toned muscles shook as the whores gunned them down. All of the work they’d invested in shaping those muscular bodies went to waste as the irate girls killed them.

Men were flopping into the dirt everywhere. There was a profusion of arms and legs as stud-boys piled up in dead heaps on top of one another. The boys stumbled around and shot back, fighting desperately for their lives, but they kept getting shot right out of their flip-flops.

Four men fired randomly into the dense jungle, hoping to hit a few whores. But Jia and three other girls popped up from a different direction, firing their guns at the four men. The girls’ big boobs bounced from the machine guns’ recoil and they teetered precariously on their five-inch hooker heels. Some gritted their teeth and others yelled as they mowed down the four hapless bastards. The four men got their guts filled with lead. They flew backwards through the air, their arms and legs sticking out as they came down, dead before they hit the ground.

Another row of seven men was backing away from the forest and firing their guns into the trees when three chicks with machine guns opened up on them from an indirect angle. Three lines of gunfire raked across the seven men: one at chest-level, one at belly-level, and one at crotch-level. The seven men thrashed and flailed on their feet as the whores shot them dead.

As more and more men backed into the square and got closer, Katrina could see that many of them had bulging erections in their red Speedos. Apparently the heat of battle had caused a certain sexual side effect in the young men. They were staring down the gun barrels of a bevy of attractive, scantily clad girls, and they couldn’t help themselves. The whores’ blazing machine guns didn’t stem their lust; they only fed it. The men were facing an angry enemy – a bunch of women that they’d cruelly raped day after day – and they knew they were going to pay for it.

The girls charged into the square, backing the remaining men into an ever-smaller circle. The men were able to gun down some of the girls, knocking them backwards out of their high heels. But the brave women kept advancing and firing on the men.

“Anyone who thinks women are by nature non-violent should take a look at this,” said Katrina as she watched the enraged hookers shooting and killing man after man.

The shootout was an intense, close-range battle now: nobody had adequate cover, the men or the women. Both sides were standing out in the open, firing at will at each other from just a few meters apart. Both sides were taking casualties, but the girls were having much more success. The Red Sword boys were starting to cream their shorts when they knew they wouldn’t escape alive. When the bullets hit them, they would grab their cocks and yank them out of their Speedos, letting their juice splatter through the air as they jerked and went down. Men littered the ground. As they lay dying and jacking out their last bits of smack, the whore girls stepped on them with their five-inch spike heels, trampling their balls and their pricks as they walked ahead.

Waves of men were cut down by the whores’ machine gun fire. The survivors made a last stand, firing what ammo was left in their guns. When they were out of bullets, they raised their arms to the sky, hoping for the mercy of the women.

Katrina watched in anticipation, fingering a pussy that was moist from seeing so many men die so violently at the hands of young women.

“Who cares if they’re out of ammo?” said Katrina breathlessly. “Kill them, kill them!”

There was a tense pause. The girls stood there panting and sweating, their breasts heaving, their machine guns aimed at the surrendering men. The men were also sweating and panting, wondering what was going to happen next. The girls’ panties looked like they were soaking with juice; they wanted to fuck these men into oblivion badly. The men sensed it, and their red swimsuits began to puff up. The anticipation was too much for Katrina; she went over the edge and felt her orgasm sweep through her muscles.

“Oh, please kill them already! Kill them now!” Katrina panted as she pleasured herself with wild abandon.

At that moment, the whores charged the men, screaming a war cry as they ran. The men braced for impact; a phalanx of more than a dozen women landed on top of them, smashing them against the dirt. Legs and arms stuck out of the tumbling pile. The women trapped the men beneath them, inflicting every sort of punishment on them they could imagine. Some of the girls strangled the boys; others tried to rip off the men’s nuts. In the confusion, under the weight of so many women, some of the men choked as they smothered in a girl’s crotch or beneath her tits.

The writhing pile of flesh drove Katrina wild. She moaned ecstatically as she watched the girls kicking, beating, strangling, and smothering the men to death. The women were so caught up in the violence that their bras, panties, and high heels slipped off their bodies. Naked and sweaty, they tore the men to pieces. The men did the only thing they could do: they hosed down the attacking women with their final spurts of cum, sending sticky blobs of slizz all over the skin of the women around them.

Most of the men simply asphyxiated under the pile of girls, choking to death beneath their cunts, tits, and butts. But some of the whores still had their Uzis with them and were finishing them off by shooting them at point-blank range. They forced the men to suck down the barrel of the gun as they pulled the trigger and blew out their brains. Others got Uzis stuck up their asses, blasting their insides to smithereens. Still more men got their dicks blown off by close range gunfire. It was a mass killing of epic proportions. The torment they suffered at the hands of the women was breathtaking in its savagery.

When it was all over, the whores extricated themselves from the pile of dead men. The central square of the compound was littered with the dead bodies of young, male soldiers. Every last hunk at this base was now snuffed out. Katrina had killed most of them herself, but she never would have survived the final battle if it hadn’t been for Jia and the rest of the prostitutes.

Jia and the whores were bruised, naked, and soaked with blood and semen. They had waged the bitterest battle Katrina had ever seen, and they had defeated the men. A few of the whores had been killed in the gunfight, but most were alive and well. Katrina gave each one of them a hug.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Katrina told the women. “How can I thank you for your help?”

“You already have,” said Jia. “You set us free from this terrible place. Now we can go home to our families and try to forget the bad things they did to us.”

“Your actions won’t be forgotten,” said Katrina. “I’m going to tell my people what you did. I’ll make sure they find a way to repay you.”

“Go home now,” said Jia. “Your job is finished now. Go home and get some rest.”

“Thank you,” said Katrina as she picked up her backpack. “You, too. Take care.”

Katrina marched away from the terrorist base as Jia and the other women set fire to the buildings. Katrina called Laura on her communicator.

“Mission accomplished,” said Katrina. “Ready for pickup.”

Laura, back at GSL headquarters, was excited.

“We knew you could do it, Katrina!” said Laura. “We’ll have a team at your pickup point in thirty minutes.”

“I’ll be there,” said Katrina as she massaged her aching muscles. “Tell them to bring some aspirin, will you?”

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