One of the terrorists, a husky blonde who was already chest-deep in the muck, spoke to Katrina in English. “Please! Get us out of here! Don’t let us drown!”
Katrina was mildly amused that they wanted her help. “Sorry, pal. I can’t help you. When you treat the forest with disrespect, it has a way of biting you back!” She crossed her arms and watched the five men helplessly flail in the wet mush. “This is what you get for trying to burn down this beautiful island!” The men groaned dejectedly as they sank deeper and deeper into the quicksand. They were up to their armpits now, their broad shoulders just barely above the surface.
At first Katrina thought she’d just watch the helpless men drown, but then she got a better idea. With a mischievous grin on her face, Katrina kicked off her running shoes and climbed a tree hanging over the pit of quicksand. Several thick vines hung from a bough that stretched over the men. Katrina climbed out on the bough, careful lest she fall in herself. She tested one of the vines. “Yep; it seems strong enough.” She lowered herself on the vine, climbing down several feet until she was suspended above one of the men. Then, with a playful kick of her bare foot, she pushed the man’s face under the quicksand. Little bubbles emerged on the surface as he went under, never to reappear.
The blonde dude was shocked. “You just drowned him! I can’t believe how cruel you are!”
“I know,” Katrina giggled. “I’m a real bitch, aren’t I?” Next Katrina climbed further down the branch to a different vine. Again she descended the rope-like vegetation, placing herself directly over another man. He tried to stretch out his hands to grab her foot. Katrina could feel his fingertips brushing the gold anklet she wore. “That tickles!” she squealed. “Here; try to grab my foot!” Katrina offered it to the drowning man. But she was only teasing, because when the man finally placed both hands around her ankle, Katrina suddenly pulled her foot away. “Gotcha!” she said. “You thought I was gonna save you! Too bad!” Then, placing the sole of her foot right on the man’s face, Katrina gave him a shove that propelled him into the abyss. He splashed around a bit when he went in, but a minute later there was no sign of life.
“You guys are sooooooo finished!” Katrina said to the remaining three. She found another vine and slid down it to hover over a guy who was barely keeping his head above the quicksand. “Another one bites the dust!” she sang as she lowered her foot and gently placed her toes on the man’s face. He wept for mercy, but Katrina coldly pressed her foot down and sank him, plunging him to his death.
The fourth man was a bit harder to reach. Katrina had to swing on a vine to get near him. As she swung past, she kicked him in the head and sent him under. The man sloshed around in the swampy gunk, eventually declining from view forever.
“Now it’s YOUR turn, blondie!” she called to the English-speaker. He was almost completely under. Katrina climbed down a vine and extended her legs. She wrapped her feet around the man’s head and began to pull him up. The man had just gone under, so he inhaled deeply when Katrina rescued him.
“Thank you!” he coughed. “You saved me!”
“Really?” Katrina had the man hanging by his head with her feet pressed together. “Who said I was saving you?” She dipped the man under again, holding him down for more than a minute while he struggled. Finally, she pulled him out again.
“What – what – what are you doing?” the man stuttered and coughed.
“I’m TOYING with your life!” Katrina answered, dunking the man a second time in the quicksand. This time she kept him down for more than two minutes. Finally she yanked him out, and he took a deep, raspy breath. His head was covered in mud. He started coughing and spitting up dirt. “So attractive!” Katrina said. “Well, it’s been nice knowing you. I gotta go now.” With that, Katrina dunked the blonde guy for a third time. This time, she didn’t let him come up for air. She held him under as he twisted, his head caught between her feet. She could feel the man struggling for life, fighting for his very existence as she drowned him. Slowly but surely the man’s movements decreased. He blundered around a bit more beneath the surface before the quicksand finally grew still. Katrina split apart her feet and felt the man’s weight fall away as the body submerged to its final resting place. She withdrew her feet and said “yuck!” when she saw all the mud covering them. “I’m going to have to clean my anklet now,” she observed as she looked at the heart-shaped charm still dangling there.
Katrina found a small brook and cleaned off. She headed back toward the fires, dismayed at the damage they were causing as they spread. She got a pleasant surprise when a sudden downpour burst from the sky. The rain quickly squelched the small fires, reducing them to a smoking memory. ‘Perfect timing,’ she thought as she watched the rain extinguish the last flames.
With 32 bad guys dead by her hand, Katrina was pretty happy with her progress. That is, until she got an encrypted call from Laura back at GSL headquarters.
“Katrina,” Laura said with urgency in her voice, “What’s taking you so long?”
“But Laura,” Katrina said, “I’m trying as hard as I can! There are so many of them, and you told me to be stealthy and kill them quietly. You wanted me to use my bare hands and my body as much as possible. It takes time to do it that way!”
“I understand,” Laura sympathized, “But we don’t have a lot of time. We have reports that the Red Sword might abandon its island base soon. You have to finish the job as quickly as possible! Don’t worry about what I told you. Yes, you should still be as stealthy and quiet as possible, but don’t let it stop you from completing your mission. We need you to terminate ALL members of the Red Sword within the next 48 hours.”
“Forty-eight hours!” Katrina cried. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Do whatever you have to do. Don’t limit yourself to hand-to-hand combat, if that helps. Just make sure that every man on that island is dead within the next two days. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Katrina said, hanging her head. Laura wished her well and ended the communication. Katrina was baffled. It seemed like an insurmountable task to achieve in just two days, but she had no choice. Those were her orders.
A few hours after the call from Laura, Katrina prepared for her killing spree. She knew she had the skills to do a lot of damage to the terrorists, but because she was so vastly outnumbered, she was afraid she might not make it out alive.
It didn’t take long for Katrina to get dressed for the day’s job. She put on a new bikini, a sleek, blue swimsuit with racer straps. Then she placed her long, blonde hair in a ponytail with a red rubber band. Finally, she slipped on her running shoes and put on her charm anklet. She was good to go.
Katrina trekked several miles to reach the Red Sword compound. The perimeter was heavily guarded even though the main buildings were further away, so when she came to the outer fence she hid in the bushes and waited to see what was happening. She saw two sentries approach from the north. Katrina improvised a trap for them, fashioning a loose knot out of a thick vine. She tossed the knot in their path. When the two sentries eventually stepped over the knot, Katrina yanked the vine and pulled the knot tight, trapping their feet. She tugged the two men into the bushes with her.
“Hi, guys,” she said to the terrified men. “You two are quite a catch!” The men tore at the vine circling their ankles as they desperately tried to escape. Katrina grabbed one man, shoved him onto his back, and jammed her crotch down on his face. “You like my new bikini?” she asked as she started to smother him with her pussy. Katrina roughly took the other sentry and shoved his face into her cleavage. The man’s arms flapped around as his face was buried in Katrina’s luscious tits. “YOU get to check out my top,” she said to the man suffocating in her breasts, “and YOU get to check out my bottoms,” to the man pinned under her hips. “Tell me what you think of this swimsuit. How does it taste?”
Katrina was surprised to find that the sensation of the two men pressed against her body was very stimulating. “Ooooh, this feels kinda kinky!” she said. She rolled her pelvis around so that the man underneath was in a more satisfying position. “Yeah, that’s it!” Katrina’s cunt was tingling and dripping wet now. “YES! More, more!” she clamored as she rutted her juicy womanhood all over the guy’s face. At the same time, she squeezed her tits together over the other sentry’s face. “You, too! Keep your hot breath on my boobs!” Katrina started to take the roller coaster dive into ecstasy. “Oh, yeah! Yeah! Oh, you guys are killing me!”
The men could hear Katrina’s cries of ecstasy while their own cries were stifled by her body pressed tightly over their mouths. They sucked for air, but they couldn’t catch their breath. The man between Katrina’s legs inhaled, but all he could sense was the musky fragrance of Katrina’s honeypot. The wet stuff was seeping through her bikini bottoms as her passion rose. He wriggled beneath her crotch in a hopeless attempt to break free from her powerful legs. Realizing that there was no chance of escape, the man pulled down his swim trunks and started to wank himself. The guy trapped in Katrina’s tits came to same conclusion: she was his conqueror, so it was best to stop fighting. He, too, grabbed for his dick to pleasure himself before it was too late.
Katrina was sweating and shaking as her first orgasm ripped her apart. She threw her head back and roared savagely. Panting but still wanting more, Katrina shifted her weight and squeezed the two sentries closer and tighter to her skin. Although her eyes were almost closed, she could see the two men masturbating. “Yes, that’s right! You guys do that! Beat yourselves to death!” Katrina bounced and rocked on the doomed men as she satisfied her lust. She felt another orgasm coming on – “Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!” – and tried to increase her pleasure by finishing the smothering. She took the man between her melons and viciously pressed him flush to her skin. “I’m gonna kill you first! Kiss my tits and die! Yeah, kiss ‘em and die! I wanna watch you choke to death on my tits!” The man started jerking. His breathing had stopped long ago; now he was in the final convulsions of death. His swollen cock was flailing about as his hands became limp and fell away from it. Rapid blasts of semen shot out as the man gave up and checked out. He was nothing more than a useless piece of meat to Katrina now, so she threw him aside.
“Your buddy just spanked himself all over the place as he died,” Katrina said to the guy nuzzled against her snatch. She caught her breath and got ready for her third and final orgasm. “Are you ready to do the same? Come on! Let’s see you spank it and die!” The sentry was almost dead, anyway. He was on his back, thrashing and bucking as much as she would let him. “Keep it up! Oh, I love it when you do that!” The feeling of the big, muscular man trapped between her legs losing his fight for life was unbelievably sexy to Katrina. The combination of humiliating AND killing a man at the same time made her surge with lust. “Keep fighting! Oh, yeah! Rub your face against me!” The orgasm overwhelmed Katrina right as the man’s juice started leaping out of his cock. “Oh, yeah! Yeah! We’re cumming at the same time! Ahh!! You’re dead! You’re dead!” The man made a tremendous jerk as he snuffed out. His gooey spunk pooled up in his bellybutton. Katrina continued to get off on his face. “Oh, yeah! Yeah. Yeah. Mmmmmmmmm . . . .” She rolled her damp bikini bottoms around on his nose and mouth. Finally, when she’d had enough, she rolled off of him.
Katrina was covered in perspiration. She had worn herself out by killing the two sentries with her body. “I can’t keep doing this,” she said, “or I won’t have any energy left for the rest of the attack.” She looked at the two dead guards, lying there with semen covering their tanned skin. “Well, it’s not such a bad way to go!”
Katrina took a few moments to collect herself, then prepared for the next part of the assault on the terrorist compound. She’d have to make it over an electrified fence first. “Easy!” she said. She took a running start and, with a bounding leap, jumped clear of the fence. On the inside of the compound now, Katrina knew there would be more sentries circling the fence. She hid behind some trees and waited for the next guards. A short time later, the new rotation of sentries passed by, this time with three men. “Hmm,” Katrina wondered, “How am I gonna waste ‘em?” Her body was still lusting for more smothering kills, but she knew she had to suppress the urge because it was too exhausting a method. Then she had an idea . . .
Katrina followed the three sentries as they circled the fence. She ran parallel to them and hid behind a rock, waiting for them to get close. When they were right next to her, she flew out from behind the rock. She kicked one of the guards, sending him flying several yards directly into the electrified fence. The fence sparked and smoked as his body hit it. The man screamed and convulsed as he got electrocuted. Fried to death, the man’s smoldering corpse dropped to the dirt.
The other two guards went for their guns, but Katrina knocked them out of reach. She punched the guy on the left in his rippling six pack, causing him to grunt and double up. Turning to the guy on the right, Katrina kicked her foot into his bulging crotch. He grabbed his nuts and yelled bloody murder. Katrina then karate-chopped the guy on the left again, once more in his abs. The man spat out a tiny bit of blood and dropped to his knees. The lethal blows had done him in.
The guy on the right was still protecting his balls when Katrina slammed her foot into them again. The collision sent the man two feet into the air. He came back down to earth like a brick. While he lay moaning on his back, Katrina dusted him with a last, fatal kick between the legs. His body jumped and then made some small spasms, but those were the last movements of his life.
“Now I can move deeper into the compound,” Katrina reasoned as she crept forward. She walked for a long time before coming across more guards. There was a group of about six men sitting around, drinking. One of them got up to relieve himself. He retreated into the bushes, dropped his red Speedos, took out his wand, and urinated. Katrina snuck up behind him and, using just her hands, strangled the poor bastard. His piss flew wildly all over the place. “Grrrkkk!” was the only sound the man made as the girl in the bikini choked him to death. All he wanted to do was take a leak, and it ended up costing him his life. Katrina quietly set his dead body down and picked up his AK47.
Katrina counted five men. They were lazily hanging out in the shade, getting drunk on some homemade brew. They hardly had their wits about them. ‘What am I gonna do with these drunk bastards?’ she wondered. She thought it over for a few minutes. ‘Oh, what the hell! I’ll confront them!’ she decided.
Katrina took the AK47 in her hands and stepped out of the flora. “Nobody move, or I’ll blow your balls off!”
The five intoxicated men weren’t sure what they were seeing. Maybe it was a hallucination? One of them decided that the bikini girl with the gun must be real, and he jumped to his feet with his finger on the trigger of his AK47. Before the terrorist knew what hit him, Katrina raked him with gunfire: Blam-blam-blam! He danced around as she mowed him down, blood spurting from his chest and belly. Katrina took her finger off the trigger and let the smoke clear. The four remaining men looked at their wasted friend, twitching and dying in the grass. “Now put down your guns before I do the same thing to you!” Katrina ordered them.
The four men complied, lowering their machine guns and raising their hands. “Don’t shoot us!” one of them begged.
“I’m tempted to blow away every last one of you,” Katrina said as she set down her own machine gun. “But I’m more sporting than that. Let’s go hand-to-hand. Come on; show me what you’ve got!” She put up her fists.
A tall, chiseled hunk stepped forward, laughing at Katrina. “You’ve got to be kidding! You’re just a girl! You can’t stop us!”
“Try me!” Katrina stood her ground as the tall man hurled himself at her. She sidestepped him and let him crash into a palm tree. When the dazed man turned around, Katrina kicked her foot into the man’s throat, pinning him against the tree. His hands tried to peel away her foot, but to no avail. He looked panicked and fearful. “You were saying . . . ?” Katrina calmly asked the pinned man. She swiftly stabbed her foot harder against his throat. It made a grisly ‘crick’ sound as it was squashed under the sole of her shoe. When Katrina pulled her foot away, the annihilated man slid down the trunk of the palm tree, landing in a seated position with a vacant death stare on his face.
“Anybody else want to insult me?” Katrina asked. The three guys backed away. Katrina moved closer. She set her eyes on two of them. Standing just inches from them, she reached down with both hands and grabbed the two men through their swim trunks. They cried ‘nooooo!’ as the girl clutched their hard bulges. The men writhed in their places as Katrina’s deadly grip murdered them. She felt her hands suddenly grow moist, and noticed that the two boys had creamed their Speedos. They fell slack in her grasp as they died from the devastating cock-crushing. With a nonchalant push, Katrina knocked them down and stepped over them. “The last guy is getting away.”
Katrina picked up a heavy rock and threw it at the escaping man. It glanced off his head, stunning him and knocking him to the ground. Katrina walked up to him. He was trying to crawl away. When he heard footsteps, he rolled onto his back and waved his hands at Katrina, saying, “No! No! Please! No!”
Katrina stood astride the prone man and said, “Don’t just lie there, begging for your life! Get up and fight like a man!” The man hesitated and slowly rose to his feet. He stood there and clenched his fists, but he knew he was facing certain death. Katrina kicked the man so fast and so hard in the balls that he didn’t even see her leg move. His body hurtled airborne and crashed back to earth with a thud. He rolled a few times before coming to a stop, dead as can be. “That’s EXACTLY how a man should fight!” Katrina said.
The score was now Katrina 43, Red Sword 0. She still had a long way to go before the terrorists were defeated. She kept moving until she found a fresh water stream. Bending down to take a drink, she heard some voices nearby. She crept closer to take a look.
Here was another encampment of bad guys. They looked like they were preparing lunch; a large stew pot simmered over a low fire. Katrina counted ten men – too many to fight at once. She had to find a faster way to neutralize the threat. She looked at her surroundings. “The rain forest has a way of supplying some interesting surprises.” Spotting a cluster of mushrooms under some shady leaves, Katrina got an idea. The mushrooms were a highly poisonous species. Katrina picked a big handful of the fungi and mashed them up in her hands. To create a diversion, she found a heavy stone and tossed it on the other side of the encampment. The sound surprised the men; they jumped to their feet with their machine guns and explored the source of the noise.
Katrina used the time to sneak into their camp to dump the mushrooms into their stew. She stirred the pot a few times, then retreated back into the bushes and waited. A moment later the terrorists returned. They proceeded to eat their lunch, unaware of the new flavor added by their enemy. It took awhile for the toxin to take effect. Katrina was getting impatient when she finally heard one of the men start to gag. She looked eagerly through the leaves and saw all ten men begin to clutch at their throats, their eyes as wide as saucers. “It’s working!” she cried.
The men spit out their mouthfuls, but it was too late – they’d already ingested too much of the deadly soup. They fell to the dirt, groaning and gasping as they held their throats. Katrina knew it was safe to emerge from the forest now; the men couldn’t move enough to reach their guns. She stepped into the camp and strolled around the ten guys who were writhing around on their backs.
“You bitch!” one of the men cried. “You poisoned us!”
“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” Katrina said coyly.
“We’re all gonna die!” another man cried.
“We’re all gonna die someday, baby,” Katrina said, “Some of us just sooner than others!”
“Help us!” one of them pleaded with her. “Help us!”
“How can I possibly help you?” she asked. “You’re all sucking on the Grim Reaper’s nipples right now. You boys are history; there’s nothing I can do.”
“Yes, you can!” The man making the plea pulled down his shorts, exposing his rigid cock. “Please . . . get me off!”
Katrina looked around and was flattered to see that all ten studs were whipping out their pokers. “Wow – are all of you guys turned on by me?”
“Yes! Yes!” they said as a chorus. “You’re a sex goddess! Please hurry!”
Katrina considered their request. They didn’t pose a threat to her anymore; what the heck? She still had some time to spare. “Why not?” she said. “But ONLY with my foot; I’m not giving anyone a blow job!” Katrina stepped up to the first man. “Okay; let’s get going!” The man eagerly took one hand away from his burning throat and placed it on the girl’s ankle. He felt her heart-shaped charm dangling there, and it drove him wild. Before Katrina could even place her foot on his dick, the man shot a load of cum that hit him in the chin. He sputtered, gagged, and then fell dead. “Wow, that was quick!” Katrina remarked. “All he had to do was touch my anklet! Talk about premature ejaculation problems!”
“My turn!” another man yelled. Others hollered their objections, but Katrina thought he was kinda cute, so she stepped over to him.
“You wanna feel my toes on your cock, the toes of the woman who killed you?” Katrina said enticingly to him. The man pointed to his lips. “In your mouth first?” He nodded yes. “Okay.” Katrina brushed her shoe against the man’s cheek, then with agonizing slowness slipped off her trendy sneaks and let them tumble aside his face. Her warm toes caressed his lips. The man opened his mouth and darted his tongue in an effort to lick her toes. “Ah-ah-ah!” Katrina teased him, pulling away her toes. “Not yet!” She rubbed the arch of her foot all over his face as he inhaled her salty, sweaty, yet feminine scent. Katrina plunged her toes into his mouth, and he lapped them up. His hands left his choking throat and went for his cock. All it took was a few shakes and the erection became a gusher. His eyes rolled back into his head and his body shivered as the cum squirted all over his bare chest. Katrina felt the man’s tongue stop moving. His lips fell away from her toes. “Oh, I guess you’re dead!” she said blithely. “Who’s next?”
“Me, me!” the men begged. “Hurry! I don’t think I’m gonna make it!”
Katrina went to the next man. She gently placed the sole of her bare foot on his throbbing rod, caressing it with slow strokes. She rubbed the taut skin with the finesse of a geisha, giving the condemned man fits of pleasure. He couldn’t take more than a couple minutes of Katrina’s foot job; he thrust out his hips and creamed. Then, with nothing left to live for, he fell dead with Katrina standing triumphantly on his dick.
There were still seven poisoned men begging for “last rites” from killer Katrina. She enjoyed sending them off with a bang, but she had to do some triage. “It looks like some of you guys are going to pack it in before you cum,” she said as she noticed one man convulsing in violent death throes. “Oh, well. I’ll just do as many as I can before you all meet your maker.”
The fourth man asked Katrina to step on his fat prick. “Please, hurry! I don’t think I can – grkkk! – I can’t – ackkk!” He clutched his throat as the poison began to kill him. Katrina quickly stood on top of the man, trampling down his package with her bare feet. She shifted her weight from side to side, causing his cock to roll around in a satisfying rhythm. Katrina curled her toes under and saw the helmet of his pecker protruding from beneath her feet. She could tell from the little globule of juice at the tip that he was about to blow. Sure enough, with Katrina’s heels rocking back on his balls, the man shot jets of smack onto his belly. At the same time, he made gurgling and gagging noises. “Arrghhkkk!” The man’s tongue fell from his mouth and his head tipped to one side.
“Dead,” Katrina flatly declared of the man under her feet. “Now it’s your turn!”
She pointed to a fifth man who looked like he was desperately clinging to life. All she did was touch the tip of her toes to his cock, and the man orgasmed. His seed shot everywhere as he jerked over to one side and fell lifeless. “That’s the way to fling yer spunk!” Katrina said.
The sixth man was struggling to survive, gasping for air and writhing on his back. Katrina placed her foot on his erection and started to rub. She increased the tempo as he got closer to nirvana. “That’s it – you’re almost there!” she encouraged him. Then, with a sudden lurch, the man seized up and stopped moving. His body trembled with tiny spasms, and then his eyes rolled back into his head. He was dead before he got to shoot the cannon. “Oh, shit,” Katrina said. “You were so close, too!”
Katrina was about to set her foot on the seventh man when he said to her, “Not your foot. I wanna cum between your tits!”
“No, thank you,” Katrina said. “I don’t want a pearl necklace today.”
“Please – it’s my dying wish,” the man begged. Katrina looked into his eyes and, despite her desire to keep a safe distance from male spooge, she relented and lay down on her back, rolling the man on top. She pressed together her breasts to form a tight valley for the man’s long shaft. She methodically started to thrust her boobs back and forth against him, rutting him slowly at first and then faster near the end. The man moaned with pleasure; when he let out a loud cry, she knew he was finished. His cum trickled down her clavicle and onto her throat. The poison killed him right at that moment. He became dead weight on top of her, so she rolled him off and forgot him.
“Yuck!” she exclaimed as she wiped off the cum from her bikini and skin. “I don’t know why I agreed to do that!” Finished cleaning off, she looked around at the last four men. These guys weren’t going to make it to heaven – Katrina watched them keel one by one before her eyes. She probably could’ve satisfied one or two more of them before they died, but she didn’t feel like doing it. Instead, she got her kicks by watching the remaining men suffer horribly as they died unfulfilled. “Ha, ha! They died with their peckers pointing up!” she said as they stiffened in more ways than one.
Katrina 53, Red Sword 0.
Katrina was in a bad mood now. She didn’t know why; maybe it was PMS, maybe it was fatigue. But she felt like slaughtering a bunch of men, killing them by the dozens in brutal fashion. “No more Ms. Nice Girl,” she said. “I want to get this job finished. I want to humiliate these bastards and watch them die!” She picked up a couple of machine guns and a dagger and headed straight for the main terrorist complex . . .
When Katrina got to the main buildings, she saw a sea of men in red swimsuits. They seemed to be aware that an assassin was taking them out, but they didn’t comprehend the magnitude of the massacre. ‘Look out, here I come!’ Katrina said as she ran for the base.
Four guards kept watch at the main gate. Katrina snuck up from behind and immediately slit the throat of one man with her dagger. He gurgled and spat blood as he dropped to his knees, mortally wounded. The other three guards turned and shot at Katrina, but she had already jumped over the men to land behind them. She shoved two of them down. The third was ready to shoot her, but she threw her dagger straight into his flat abdomen. The guard wrapped his fingers around the blade as blood trickled from his mouth. He wheezed, coughed, dropped, and kicked.
The two men Katrina had knocked down were back on their feet and ready to shoot her. She leveled her two machine guns at them, one in each fist. Blam-blam-blam-blam! Katrina’s machine guns nailed the two guards in the balls. They flew backwards and collapsed in a pile.
Katrina calmly waited to confront a team of terrorists who’d heard the gunfire. She hid her two machine guns behind her back as a line of ten guys came at her. Expecting to see men attacking, the terrorists didn’t react quickly enough. ‘It’s just some blonde chick in a bikini and sneakers,’ was all that registered in their pea-sized brains. Big mistake: Katrina whipped out the two machine guns from behind her back and fired. Blam-blam-blam-blam! She wracked the line of ten men with a nasty fusillade of ammo. Their guts and chests ate lead. Amid the hazy smoke, the men did a death-jig as Katrina gunned them all down.
Katrina cautiously peered around the corner of a building. Another group of ten terrorists was walking in a line towards her. ‘What now?’ she wondered. Katrina looked up. ‘The roof!’ With a tremendous leap, Katrina jumped onto the roof of the building. She quietly traversed the roof so that she was behind the line of men. She got in position and jumped down, landing on her feet directly behind the last man in the line. “Over here, boys!” she called to them. They whipped around, but Katrina already had her machine guns aimed at them. The last guy in the line was seriously fucked: Katrina filled him full of holes. The shots passed through him and killed the next guy in line, too. When they both toppled over, the eighth guy was staring down the barrels of her guns. Blam-blam-blam-blam! He bit the dust hard, and so did the seventh guy right behind him. And so it continued: Katrina shot them all down, punching holes through all ten bad guys. “Ten little Indians,” Katrina sang as she stepped over the neat row of dead hunks in Speedos.
Katrina 77, Red Sword 0. ‘Nice body count,’ Katrina congratulated herself as the men began dying in droves.
A couple of armed men spotted Katrina. They saw her through the window of a building. Katrina quickly ran past from right to left, crossing in front of an open door. They rushed to the door to fight, not realizing that Katrina did a reverse flip from left to right that sent her above the doorway back to the other side of the door. She stood there with her back pressed to the wall, waiting for the two bad guys to come. They scuttled up to the doorway. They got down flat on their bellies and inched forward, guns first, ready to shoot around the corner at the girl who just ran past the door . . . from right to left . . . Well, they THOUGHT they saw her run from the right side to the left side . . . Where the hell did she go?
“Ahem,” Katrina cleared her throat. The men’s heads quickly swiveled in the opposite direction. To their horror, they were at eye-level with a pair of trendy women’s running shoes and a sparkling, gold anklet. Their gaze traveled up from Katrina’s feet, slowly taking in her tanned, athletic legs, her skimpy blue bikini bottoms, her sensuous bare belly, her ample breasts, her luscious lips, her sparkling eyes, and her playful blonde ponytail. The two AK47s in her hands didn’t escape their attention, either. “Looking for someone, boys?” Katrina asked. They were frozen in fear at her feet.
“AHHHHHH!!!” the two bad guys screamed.
Katrina shot them into the dirt, their erect cocks humping the ground as their bodies flopped and bounced from the close-range machine gunning. The image of sexy, deadly Katrina standing over them in her bikini was the last thing they ever saw, but it was enough to make them cream their shorts as they twitched and died.
Katrina crossed the field to a large warehouse-type building. As she was about to enter the building, she heard a twig snap behind her. She hit the deck right as a massive shower of bullets flew over her head. Katrina rolled and rolled, spinning around to defend herself. “You boys want a shootout?” she yelled as she lay flat on her belly, “I’ll give you a shootout!” Katrina’s two machine guns spat fire as she swept them across the row of bad guys shooting at her. Their chests and bellies exploded in the same color as their swimsuits. Ten large, muscle-bound men with machine guns suddenly found themselves teetering on their feet, their impressive physiques perforated by the girl. They crumpled over, dead. “Gotcha!” Katrina said with a cheeky grin.
Katrina set down her empty machine guns. She wouldn’t need them inside the building, anyway: it was a bomb factory filled with explosives, so guns were a no-no unless you wanted to get blown up.
She slid through the door and immediately found herself next to a short man guarding the entrance. She grabbed him and muzzled his face with her boobs. “Mmmphh!” The man struggled between her breasts as Katrina hauled him into a broom closet and shut the door behind her. She looked around and saw a large roll of plastic cling wrap. ‘Perfect,’ she thought, taking a long sheet of it. Katrina wrapped the plastic around the guard’s face, pulling it tightly so that he had no air to breathe. She then went down the length of his body, binding him snugly inside the transparent plastic so that he couldn’t move. When she finished enveloping the man, she propped him against the wall. He looked like a living mummy: his face was smashed in an expression of terror and his limbs were immobilized. The man sucked for air, but all it did was make a little dent in the plastic where he inhaled. Katrina watched the man slowly asphyxiate, noticing that his dick was growing even as he suffocated. After a few minutes, a large, wet stain oozed around inside the plastic near his groin. The man’s body became still – he had finally asphyxiated. Katrina cautiously opened the door to the broom closet and stepped outside, leaving the bagged guy for dead.
Katrina slithered around the building, avoiding the larger patrols of guards to prey on the smaller groups of men. When she saw two unarmed terrorists make the mistake of passing near her hiding place, she stuck out her leg and tripped them up. They fell face-first. Katrina dragged them under the table by their legs, reached into their Speedos, and fiercely took hold of their balls. She crushed them between her fingers, sending her death-energy into their groins, and the men were instantly silenced.
Four men scrambled up a ladder; they thought they heard something on the floor above them. As the first man reached the top of the ladder, he saw Katrina waiting for him. Before he could alert his three companions, she picked him up by the throat and tossed him against the wall. She did the same thing to the next three guys. Now all four men were nursing their bruises, cornered in a small workspace with the lethal lady.
“When you’re ready to fight, let me know,” Katrina said to them, hands on her hips.
One man jumped up and charged at her with a dagger. Katrina grabbed his wrist and squeezed, causing the dagger to clatter to the floor. She began wrestling with the strong man, countering his moves with her agility. She twisted her body around and fended off a chokehold, shoving the man down. She jumped on top of him, pinning his arms with her legs. “You lose,” she said to the man as she reached behind her back and pummeled his abs with her fist. The man grunted with the first blow, coughed with the second blow, and bit the dust with the third blow.
Another man recovered and was ready to fight. They tumbled and toiled together, scratching and clawing away. Katrina drew a tiny bit of blood as her fingers scraped his skin. The man grew weary after a few minutes of wrestling with the much stronger woman, and Katrina was able to knock him down. She clutched him in a deadly figure-four, choking him with her legs. As she squeezed her victim, she saw the third guy get up and charge her. He karate-kicked at Katrina’s head, but she grabbed his ankle and threw him off balance. The man fell on his butt as Katrina yanked him toward her. She spread open his legs, made a fist, and punched him right in the family jewels. The hit was good enough to kill him; he instantly ceased to move, killed by the girl’s ball bust.
Katrina concentrated on the man in the figure-four. He was starting to go. She looked down and saw him masturbating. “That’s a sure sign that they’re almost gone.” She scrunched him tighter and watched him turn ashen. A moment later, the dude jerked off and died between Katrina’s legs.
Now there was just one man trapped in the room with her. He got on his feet as Katrina backed him into a corner. “What’s the matter?” she taunted him, “Are you afraid of an eighteen-year-old girl?” He nodded yes. “You should be,” she said. Thinking over the fate of this coward, Katrina said to him, “I’ll give you a chance. Here,” she said, pointing to her taut abs, “Give me your best shot, right in the belly.” The man inched closer. He clenched his fist. He was about as strong as the average Red Sword member, so it wasn’t inconceivable that he could throw a good punch. The man reached back and slammed his fist hard into Katrina’s belly. She didn’t budge. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” Disappointed, she pushed the man back a bit. “Now let me show you how it’s done.” The man stood, paralyzed with fear. This was it; this is how his life would end. An eighteen-year-old blonde girl in a bikini was going fuck him up. Katrina bent her knee into the air and, with a whooshing wind, socked the man with a powerful kick to the belly. The man flew backwards ten feet, slamming into the wall. His wide eyes slowly looked down at his abdomen, which now bore the imprint of the sole of Katrina’s running shoe. He clutched his gut as he slid down the wall, blood dripping from his mouth. His insides were jelly. He dropped onto his butt, finished off by the assassin chick.
Katrina was about to descend the ladder when she heard some voices. She ran to the railing of the loft and looked down. Four Red Sword guards were pacing around on the floor having an animated conversation.
“She’s gonna kill all of us! We should abandon the island right now!” said one man.
“Nonsense,” another said. “She’s just one girl; we can kill her.”
“Are you insane?” cried a third. “That one girl has killed almost half our troops. She’s a mutant or something, I tell you! She has the strength of a thousand men!”
“I don’t believe in superheroes,” the fourth man said. “Nobody is invincible. We’ll catch her sooner or later.”
Katrina stifled a laugh. She noticed that the four men were standing under a large cargo net. She studied the characteristics of the net and concluded that it was a good bet. Carefully taking the pulley rope in her hands, Katrina leveraged herself against the railing of the loft with her feet. When the moment was right, she lowered the net, causing the cargo net to collapse over the heads of the four men below. As Katrina yanked back on the rope, the net rose and the apertures constricted, seizing the four men by their necks. Their bodies dangled from the net as they hung several feet in the air.
“What were you guys saying about catching me?” Katrina called to them. Of course, they didn’t answer, because their throats were getting squeezed in the net. The four men dangled helplessly in midair, their arms flailing and their legs kicking in a futile attempt to break free. They made some horrific gagging sounds as their air was cut off. Katrina giggled as the men’s swim trunks started to swell. “That’s what I was waiting for,” Katrina said gleefully, “Let me see you spunk your trunks before you choke to death!” The men obliged her by pulling down their swim trunks and grasping their cocks. Their wrists flicked madly as they tried to beat off before they strangled. Katrina was soon rewarded with a fireworks show as the four men simultaneously shot their cum into the air. Their bodies started convulsing in their nooses; Katrina laughed at the way their dicks jiggled as they suffered in the throes of death. “Look at you guys, flopping around like a bunch of wet worms! Men die so unattractively!” The men began to hang limp in the net Katrina had used to dispatch them.
When the four men were no longer alive and kicking, Katrina went downstairs. The floor beneath the hanged men was slick with their spunk. “You guys really pasted the place,” Katrina remarked. She made a mental count in her head, ticking off the four men freshly killed and dangling above her. “By my count, that’s Girls 100, Boys 0. I’ve rubbed out half the men on this island,” she said. “The girls are kicking butt! You boys are DEAD!”
Katrina came upon a large room where a dozen Red Sword baddies were working. There was a large window into the room, so she peered inside to have a look. The room contained a cornucopia of terrorist toys: guns, explosives, and poison gas canisters. The twelve men appeared to be packing up; apparently the order had been given to abandon the island, and they were taking their precious materials with them. “Oh, no, you don’t,” Katrina said.
Slowly opening the heavy door to the room, Katrina leaned inside. The men didn’t hear her. Spotting a pistol on a nearby table, she picked it up. She raised the gun and aimed it at one of the canisters of poison gas. Bang! She fired off a shot that pierced the pressurized vessel. Deadly gas immediately started hissing as it escaped. The men in the room ran for the door, but Katrina slammed it shut behind her. It was an airtight door, so there was no way for the gas to leak through. She held the door shut with all her might, even though there were twelve men on the other end pulling on it. She leaned around and peeked in the window, smiling at the doomed men. “Getting a little stuffy in there, boys?” she said. The men breathed in the toxic fumes and started to gag. They coughed, wheezed, and spluttered as they choked on the lethal gas. They gave up trying to open the door and instead scratched at the big window. Their pathetic cries were barely audible through the thick glass. Katrina leaned forward and kissed the glass with her lips. She waved to the men and said saucily, “Bye-bye!” The men started dropping like flies. One by one, they slid down the window and out of view. Through the hazy air, Katrina counted twelve dead men littering the floor. With a twinge of girlishness in her voice, Katrina said, “Sweet dreams, boys!”
Katrina rounded a corner and ran smack into a hefty young man. They were both surprised to see each other. Before he could react, she kneed him through his Speedos and wasted him. “Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she quipped as the hunk fell dead with his hands on his balls.
Katrina stepped out the opposite end of the building and noticed a stream of men marching toward the beach, carrying various supplies with them. They were heading for a large ferry and loading it up. She crouched behind a stack of boxes and waited for her next move.
A few seconds later, a man stopped in front of the stack of boxes and began to lift one. Katrina stood up behind him and grabbed him in a chokehold, lifting him off the ground. “Where’s the ferry going?” she asked.
The man gurgled as Katrina loosened her grip on his throat a bit. “Gkkk - To the other island!”
“What other island?” She squeezed him a little tighter.
“Grrrck – the other island – gackkk – to the east of this one. Gkkkk!”
“Is there another base there?”
“Urrrgghh – gmpph – Yes! Another – grk – secret – gkkk – base!”
“When does the boat leave?” Katrina strangled him harder.
“Grrrck – Tonight!”
“Thanks,” she said as she twisted her arm around the man’s neck, crushing it with wicked intensity. He gasped and gagged for a second as his windpipe made nasty crunching sounds. His legs kicked wildly, causing his rubber flip-flops to fly off his feet. His toes curled up as his body stiffened at the onset of death. Katrina felt the man fall dead in her lovingly lethal embrace. She dropped his body into an empty box and closed the lid.
“I’ve got to make sure that boat doesn’t leave tonight,” she said as she watched the Red Sword baddies haul crate after crate onto the ferry. “Unless,” she said as an idea struck her, “I’m on the boat when it leaves!”
Katrina waited until dusk to make her move. She circled around to the far end of the beach a fair distance from where the ferry was docked. Kicking off her running shoes and leaving them in the sand, she waded into the water. Katrina dove under a wave and began to swim her way to the ferry.
The ferry had several gun turrets hanging over the side of the deck, each manned by a single Red Sword gunner. Under the falling cover of darkness, she climbed an access ladder on the side of the hull, emerging from the waves and making her way up to a gun turret. She quietly climbed into the turret without alerting the man stationed there. Dripping wet from her swim, Katrina snuck up behind the man and cupped her hand over his nose and mouth. “Shhhh!” she whispered to him, holding her finger up to her lips.
“Mmmmmph!” came the man’s stifled yell. But Katrina just shushed him again as she observed the situation. The man’s hands gripped her wrist as he tried to remove her smothering fingers. No use – Katrina tightly covered him, preventing noise from escaping. It also kept air from entering, and the man began to turn blue, his eyes bulging and turning red as the blood vessels broke. “Mmmmmph!” he repeated without effect.
“Shhhh, I told you!” Katrina hissed at him. “What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever been killed by a female assassin before?” Deprived of oxygen, the gunner asphyxiated and slouched dead in his seat. Katrina tossed him aside and kept a low profile, waiting until the ferry pulled away from the dock.
After the boat was well on its way to the neighboring island, Katrina left the gun turret to explore. The ferry proved to be an ideal place to engage the men in hand-to-hand combat. There were plenty of corridors, decks, and rooms, most of them empty except for an occasional pair of terrorists.
Her first stop was the men’s restroom. Katrina slid inside and counted three men: two were standing and pissing into the urinals; she could see the feet of the other one from under the stall. The one in the stall seemed to be moaning softly; the other two guys were puzzled.
“Hey, man,” one of them said over his shoulder. “What are you doing in there?”
“I’m jacking off!” came the honest reply from the dude in the stall. “I caught a glimpse of that chick who was wiping us out. Man, I haven’t seen a woman like that in years!” He moaned as he spanked himself.
“What did she look like? Was she hot?” the urinal man asked.
“Incredibly hot! She had this rockin’ body, smooth, tan skin, long, blonde hair, and she was wearing this awesome bikini! I saw her from a distance as she was machine-gunning a bunch of our guys. Man, if she wasn’t such a cruel bitch, I’d like to fuck her hard!”
The other men finished pissing, shaking the drops off their peckers as they elongated from their friend’s story. The two men started rubbing themselves, too, as they continued to stand in front of the urinals. “Yeah, me, too!” one of them said. “If I saw that blonde slut, I’d like to shove her against the wall and screw her brains out!”
“Now’s your chance, big talker!” Katrina stepped inside and revealed herself. The urinal men glanced over their shoulders.
The man inside the stall called out to his pals. “Hey, what’s going on out there? That sounded like a woman’s voice.” The two men at the urinals didn’t answer. Their mouths hung open, watering at the sight of the girl walking towards them, stripping off her bikini. Now totally naked, Katrina went over to one of the guys standing at the urinal – the one who hadn’t said a word – and immediately punched him in his washboard tummy, icing him. He grunted ‘oooof!’ and slid onto the cold tile floor, his dead body turning just as cold.
“Now,” Katrina said seductively as she pressed her body against the other man at the urinals, “you were saying something about getting shoved against a wall and having brains screwed out?” The man’s back slammed against the tile wall as Katrina pressed her body into him. She pinned his arms with her hands and started rutting and grinding her body against his, thrusting her pelvis in a viciously lewd manner into his package. Her tits slapped against his bare chest, and she looked into his gaze with a wicked fire in her eyes. The man’s cock was hard, and at first he enjoyed Katrina’s pumping hips. But then the ferocity of her humping started to hurt. The pain of her body crushing him against the wall was intense; he tried to scream, but all that emerged was a feeble wheeze. “What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to screw me against the wall?” Katrina continued to bang the hapless bastard, her pubic area flattening his cock. She could feel drops of semen drip from its head. “I think you’re ready to die, big guy,” she cooed into the man’s ear. The sound of crunching bones echoed in the restroom as Katrina banged him harder and faster. “This . . . is what . . . you wanted . . . isn’t it?” she panted as she became a sweaty blur against his skin. The sensation of the man’s solid cock pressed against her mound made Katrina moan with orgasmic pleasure. “Oh . . . oh . . . yes . . . yes . . . YES!!!” The man was nothing more than a six-foot dildo with legs to her. He shook like an electronic vibrator, giving Katrina a roaring orgasm. The man started to pump his smack all over her belly. He jerked and bounced as the lethal sex fucked the life out of him. “YES! Oh, I fucked you to death! I fucked you to death!” Katrina threw her head back and let out a very feminine moan as she felt the man spill himself and snuff out against her “rockin’ body.” Shivers traveled down her spine; she caught her breath as the orgasm subsided. Finally, she looked at the man she’d just screwed against the wall and laughed, releasing his arms and letting his dead body collapse on the floor. “It was good for me; how was it for you?”
Katrina turned her attention to the man who was still sitting inside the stall. She tore open the door and stared him down. His red swim trunks were down around his ankles, and his fat prick was cradled in his hand. He was furiously beating himself off, trying to cum before the girl got him. “No! No! No!” he cried as the naked assassin strutted up to him and picked him up by the shoulders. “No! No! No!” he kept pleading as his hand moved more desperately over his cock.
“I always said that men are a piece of shit,” she said as she tipped him over and dunked his head into the toilet. Katrina sat down on the man’s shoulders and kept his head under water. Her cunt was still wet, and it slipped and slid over the man’s back. Even though he was about to drown, he kept working his dick in an effort to cum. As Katrina rode his back in boredom, she felt his body tense up as he climaxed. She looked under him and saw his milk dripping from the end of his shaft. As predicted, the last bubbles floated to the top of the toilet bowl as the man exhaled and drowned beneath the deadly operative. Katrina left the dead man’s head in the toilet and said with disinterest, “Looks like you’ve been flushed, pal!”
Katrina’s stamina for killing was seemingly endless. She was slipping on her bikini when another man entered the restroom. He looked around in disbelief at the scene: two men lying contorted and dead next to the urinals, and another man’s legs sticking out the bottom of a stall, his head trapped in the toilet. The man made eye contact with Katrina, his mouth hanging open.
“We had some really rough sex in here,” Katrina said by way of explanation. She then took her bikini top and used it as a garrote, wrapping it around his neck and strangling him. “Just your standard bikini strangle,” she whispered in the choking man’s ear. “Nothing really special about it. You can squirt in your pants before you die, if you want.” The man’s cock didn’t seem to take interest in the idea. “Suit yourself,” Katrina said as she tightened the noose. The man fingered the bikini around his throat, opened his mouth for air, and let his tongue hang out. He was tall, but his toes dragged against the floor as strong Katrina lifted him. His eyes rolled back and his muscles flexed and relaxed in rapid jerks; his feet wiggled around, causing his flip-flops to slide off his feet. Katrina sniffed – it was the telltale scent of semen. “Hey! You creamed after all!” The man twitched once or twice more, but it was all over for him. Katrina released the bikini from his neck and let him crumple to the floor.
She looked back at the four, fine specimens of masculinity arrayed in death. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.” She slipped on her instrument of death – her bikini top – and quietly slipped out of the restroom.
Around the corner Katrina heard two men approaching. She waited for them in a crouching position. When they went around the bend, Katrina swept out her leg and tripped up the men. They crashed onto their backs, dazed. Before they could get up, Katrina stepped on top of them, pinning them by pressing her bare feet into their necks. “Thanks for serving as my doormat,” she said to the prone guards, who struggled to lift her feet off their throats. The men were unsuccessful; their air was cut off. They strained under the force of Katrina’s foot-strangle, their demise growing imminent. “Are you boys looking up at my crotch?” she mock-accused them. Sure enough, the men could look straight up Katrina’s sexy legs and see the damp patch on her bikini bottoms. “You boys LIKE looking at my crotch, don’t you?” she said playfully. “Can’t you see how WET it is? Can you SMELL the feminine fragrance? That’s from KILLING guys like you!” Katrina threw her head back and moaned. “Oh, killing boys just turns me into a bitch in heat! Now it’s YOUR turn to serve the bitch! Die for me! Die beneath my feet! I want to see you lose your load and die with my toes pressed into your throats! DIE!”
The two men were goners. They felt their erections reach peak altitude as Katrina’s toes dug into their Adam’s apples. With no hope left of surviving, the men made a final attempt at ecstasy by slinging their stiffs. Within moments, both guards were shooting blasts of sticky spooge onto their bellies. Their eyes rolled back into their heads, and Katrina could feel the men dying beneath her feet. “YES! I love that feeling, that moment when you let go of everything and let yourself slip into the dark abyss of death! Oh, it’s so good, isn’t it?” The men couldn’t answer her – they were already gone.
Katrina stepped off the dead men’s throats. “Oh, you guys are toast,” she said offhandedly. “I’d love to stick around, but I’ve got more men to kill.”
Death came quickly for four, unsuspecting guards who stumbled upon Katrina as she hid in a closet. She dispatched the first man with a swift kick to the balls, busting his crotch so badly that it killed him instantly. He fell dead with his hands on his crushed nuts.
A second man ran into a deadly flying kick that practically knocked his head off. His neck broken, he wobbled around, dead on his feet, before toppling.
A series of furious karate chops to the abdomen stopped a third man. He was immobilized by the pain of Katrina’s fists continuously pounding his bellybutton. He danced around on his feet, hopping a little with each blow. Finally, with a savage straight-fingered jab, Katrina stabbed the man in the guts. Her fingernails plunged a few inches into his belly; when she withdrew them, they were dripping with blood. The man grabbed his bleeding stomach and tottered. Then, with a great lurch, he dropped sideways and landed on the floor where his limbs jerked as he suffered in death.
The fourth man made an attempt to flee, but Katrina jumped into the air and wrapped him between her thighs in a flying scissor lock. They fell to the floor together, with Katrina still clutching him between her legs. The man’s neck was getting squeezed by her strong thighs, and there was nothing he could do but wait for the inevitable. Katrina distractedly looked at her fingernails as she waited for the man to die in her grip. A minute later, his windpipe shut down, the guard gave up the ghost and fell limp between her legs.
Katrina knew they were nearing the second island base, and she didn’t have a lot of time. “I’ve got to kill them all before they get off this boat.”
Katrina made her way toward the ferry’s helm. She sneaked through a deserted corridor and ducked into an open doorway when she heard voices approaching. When the voices drew nearer, she leapt from the doorway and delivered a flying kick to the head of one of the terrorists. His neck snapped instantly. The second terrorist lowered his AK47 at Katrina, but she was too quick for him. She yanked the gun from his hands and rammed the butt into his face. The man staggered backwards and fell on his ass, his nose badly bloodied.
“No, no, no!” he pleaded as he sat there holding his broken nose. “Don’t!”
Katrina lifted her foot high into the air, and with a tremendous blow, stamped down on the man’s crotch. He yelled bitterly and shook from head to toe. Katrina had the ability to kill a man with a foot to the crotch, and that’s just what she was doing to him. The man squirmed under her bare toes, his frenzied fingers clutching her ankle. Katrina now stepped onto the man’s package with both feet, trampling him with her entire weight.
“Say bye to your balls . . . and your life!” said Katrina.
“Ggghhkk!” The man gagged uncontrollably, his body now completely prone and twitching. His twitching grew more rapid and sweat began to roll off his skin. Katrina felt the man make one, last thrust with his hips, followed by a hot, wet sensation burgeoning under the soles of her feet. Now that the man was dead, it was safe to lift up a foot to inspect its underside.
“Ewwww!” said Katrina. “You boinked my feet! What a kinky fucker!”
Katrina stepped off her victim and wiped away his gunk. She picked up the two machine guns, slinging one over her shoulder and carrying the other at hip level. She quickly reached the helm. Ducking behind a corner, she spotted five guards lined up outside the door. They were all big, buff Red Sword bad guys with broad shoulders, bulging swim trunks, and submachine guns in their hands.
Katrina jumped around the corner with her AK47 in tow. Blam-blam-blam-blam-blam! The five men had no idea what was happening; they never saw it coming. Well-placed bullets ventilated the five men right in their highly defined abs as Katrina swept her machine gun across their bellies. The big guys sort of hopped on their heels as their guts got acquainted with Katrina’s version of the feminine touch. They slammed in unison against the bulkhead wall behind them, making a hollow ‘dong!’ as their hefty bodies struck metal. They looked down in disbelief at the red-stained holes they’d just received.
Katrina watched as the five guards ever so slowly slid down the wall, their hands holding their once-proud six packs. They sank like five ships going under the waves – and Katrina could tell that their masts were definitely upright. The five dead meatballs hit the floor and slumped over, never to look surly again.
Katrina noticed the neat splatters and trails of blood they left behind on the wall that marked the exit wounds and their descent into death. “Cool,” she muttered.
Katrina was about to run into the helm when a whole mess of Red Swordsmen rushed forward through the door first. Katrina took an AK47 in each hand and started firing before they could. Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Katrina raked them up and down in a fluid motion so that the first piece of male cannon fodder got his balls blown off; the second got the area just below his navel shredded; the third took several slugs directly in the bellybutton; the fourth got his midsection demolished; the fifth got shot in the heart; the sixth had his chest annihilated; the seventh got an unwanted tracheotomy as bullets slipped through his throat; and the eighth got it right between the eyes.
Eight dead studs crashed into each other and piled up in the doorway, their lives prematurely ended by a chick in a blue bikini holding two machine guns. Katrina smiled with satisfaction and moved for the door. She kicked the dead men aside so that she could pass.
The guards inside the helm started shooting at Katrina, but she quickly dropped and rolled, tumbling into a crouch with her guns blazing, one to the left and one to the right.
“AAAAAAHH!” An armed guard on the left bellowed as he got shot out of his swimsuit.
“UNGHHHHH!” An armed guard on the right grunted as he got blasted out of his briefs.
Men charged at Katrina. She stuck out the barrel of her gun and impaled the first man to run at her. The gun made a sickening squishy sound as it sank into his navel. He grabbed the weapon planted in his belly and collapsed into a dead heap.
Katrina wheeled around just as a second man rushed forward. He rammed into her and knocked her down to the floor. They rolled around and struggled with him on top. Finally, with a burst of energy, Katrina rolled the man over so that now she was on top. She quickly took the man’s head and shoved it into her crotch. The man let go muffled screams as he vainly shoved and pushed against her body. Katrina had him in her death grip now: he was smothering, dying miserably in her pussy.
Katrina looked up and noticed one remaining man in the compartment. He looked husky, but very young and quite terrified by the massacre taking place. At first Katrina thought he might try to attack her while she smothered the other man, but she quickly realized that the young terrorist had no intention of fighting. He stood there with his hand down his swim trunks, working his swollen rod. He stared in awe as Katrina continued her smothering.
“You want to watch and wank?” said Katrina as she kept the pinned man beneath her crotch so that he inhaled nothing but sex fumes.
The young man nodded to her, slowly stroking himself.
“Fine with me,” said Katrina, “as long as you realize that I have to kill you next.”
The young man started to beat himself more rapidly. “Oh, no . . . Don’t! Don’t kill me! I’m unarmed!”
“Unarmed? You look like you’ve got a pretty big gun in your shorts.”
Katrina fought back as the man trapped in her snatch wriggled and writhed. He was sucking on nothing but the ambrosia that seeped through her bikini. His whole frame twisted as he tried to work free and breathe air. Katrina giggled as she held him down, choking him on her feminine juices.
“Ha! Look at him!” said Katrina. “He’s suffocating in my cooter! He can’t breathe at all. He’s kicking and flailing, but it’s no use. I’ve got him right where I want him. He’s gonna die soon. Oh, what a great way to go for him! You, on the other hand . . .”
Katrina glared at the young man who was now pounding his cock. He couldn’t contain his lust: the sight of sexy but deadly Katrina, her golden skin, her slender legs, her luscious boobs, her honeyed hair – it all made him weak in the knees. “Oh, please, no! Please, don’t!” he said.
“You,” said Katrina ominously, “I’m not gonna kill you this slowly and nicely. I’m gonna do a quickie on you!”
The man beat himself so furiously now that he was on his tiptoes, angling for ecstasy. “No, no, no!”
“Yes, yes, yes!” said Katrina. “So you’d better hurry and launch that rocket, because I’m coming for you next, and I won’t wait for you to cum!”
The man buried in Katrina’s pussy began to lurch in short, sharp spasms. He was done for. Katrina rolled her pelvis around so that she could jack him harder and get every last bit of pleasure out of his death. “Yes, he’s finished! Oh, I love it! Yes!” An animalistic orgasm swept over Katrina, and she growled as she snuffed out the man beneath her.
When Katrina stood up, she began her prowl towards the young dude wanking himself. Terror flooded his eyes as he shook his head in rejection of her advance. He slapped himself harder and faster, hoping to achieve climax before she got him. His cock stood magnificently tall, its tip touching his bellybutton.
Katrina leaned against him, pressing her skin to his. She smiled devilishly. Without warning, Katrina reached down and grabbed the young stud by his pride and joy, yanking him into the air with one hand. The man howled in pain as Katrina dangled him by his cock. The squeeze was so tight, he felt himself beginning to black out. Nevertheless, the sensation was vaguely pleasurable, and he raised his hips one, last time in an effort to ejaculate.
Like soft soap squirting from a dispenser, the man’s seed began to spill. Katrina watched the fluid wash over her squeezing hand.
“You’re dead,” said Katrina flatly.
The man shrieked as Katrina crushed his tube. His hands tried to release her grip while his legs kicked wildly several inches off the ground. More spunk flowed from his dick. The stud-boy was writhing and jerking now as Katrina’s special death-energy wracked his entire body. His muscles began to tense up; his legs stiffened and his toes pointed downward, causing his untied running shoes to slip off his feet and clop on the floor. He made a pathetic gagging gurgle, as if strangling his cock somehow strangled his throat, too. Even more spunk shot out in waves. Katrina laughed as she watched the stuff drip down her hand.
“I think I squeezed it right out of you!”
Suddenly all of the man’s muscles went slack. His head and shoulders rolled backwards, and his arms fell limp at his sides. He hung there in Katrina’s grasp, defeated and killed. She dangled him by his dick like a game trophy for a minute, then unceremoniously flung him through the window of the wheelhouse and into the ocean.
Katrina wiped the cum off her hand and picked up her machine guns – just in time. Five more gun-toting Red Sword bad guys were reluctantly inching toward the helm. Katrina hit the deck and leveled both weapons at the fretful boys.
Five more terrorist dudes sucked lead. They jerked and thrashed as deadly machine gun fire struck their bare chests and bellies. They fell to the floor, squirming and groaning.
“Arhhh, I’m hit!” one yelled.
“She fuckin’ got me!” cried another.
“Unnhhh, my guts are burning!” wailed a third.
“Aw, man! She wasted us real good!” moaned a fourth.
The fifth guy didn’t make a sound – he was already dead. Katrina stepped gingerly over the squirming men.
“You boys didn’t stand a chance,” taunted Katrina. “You hesitated too long, and this chick was ready for ya. And I’m a crack shot!”
The men continued to roll around and groan. One of them scrambled for his gun.
Blam-blam-blam! Katrina’s machine gun wiped him out before he could reach it.
“Dumb move on his part. Anyone else wanna go for his gun?” Katrina smirked at the double entendre of her remark. “Maybe you should reach for your OTHER guns!”
One of the wounded men frowned and said, “Aw, there’s no way! It hurts too much! I couldn’t possibly jack off even if I . . .”
Blam-blam-blam! The man was interrupted by Katrina’s machine gun blowing him away.
“Anyone else want to turn down an opportunity to masturbate?” said Katrina to the remaining two men.
The last two men immediately started whacking their willies. It was a hasty race between ecstasy and death.
“Oh, it looks like you’re the winner!” said Katrina to one man whose manhood was starting to pump milk. He smiled weakly, wondering what he got for winning the race. Katrina immediately trampled his balls with her toes, sending her death force into his nuts and the rest of his body. He shot one, last gigantic stream of cum as he kicked off.
“And it looks like you lose,” said Katrina to the other man, who was still working his rod. “Good news is, second place looks a lot like first place.” With that, she dug her heel into his throbbing package and killed him before he could spurt.
Katrina counted the dead men strewn around the passageways and compartments of the ferry. “By my count, that’s 150 dead Reds. That means there must be another fifty still on this boat.”
Katrina threw the ship’s engines to idle and headed for the crew compartment. There, she figured, were the remaining fifty terrorists on the boat.
When she arrived in the crew’s quarters, Katrina found all the bunks empty.
“That’s weird,” she muttered. “Where the hell are they? There was no one left on the island, so the others must’ve boarded this ferry. Unless . . . unless . . .”
Katrina ran back to the helm of the ferry. She grabbed a pair of binoculars and focused them on the lights of the island ahead, the island that supposedly housed a second secret Red Sword base. Many lights flickered along the shoreline; a sinking feeling hit Katrina.
“There are more than 200 of these Red Sword dorks,” she said. “I can tell even in the dark. There must be at least twice that many on this new island. Damn! Why would Laura tell me there were only 200 of them?”
Katrina had no way of contacting Laura back at GSL headquarters unless she returned to the original island and found her satellite radio. She thought about turning the ferry around, but that would attract too much attention. Although she could probably swim the long distance back to the island – Katrina was an excellent swimmer – she felt her only option was to go forward to the new base and risk the threat posed by hundreds of pissed off Red Swordsmen.
The supply rooms on the ferry provided Katrina with some needed equipment. She found a wetsuit in her size and put it on. Although it was made for a man, it fit snugly and comfortably. She gathered up scuba gear – tank, fins, and mask – and looked for weapons. She strapped a diver’s knife to her thigh and picked up a spear gun. She was ready to swim to shore.
There was a splash as Katrina jumped off the ferry’s ladder into the dark ocean. She got her bearings and headed for a part of the shoreline that didn’t appear to be crawling with terrorists. The water got more and more shallow as she neared the beach. She was floating into a sandy-bottomed cove when she heard voices and splashing somewhere ahead.
Katrina poked her head out of the water. In the surf of the cove, three young men were playing catch with a coconut. They were Red Sword guards who wore the requisite red-colored swimwear. Katrina watched them cavorting along the beach without a care in the world.
“Just like little boys,” said Katrina. “How pathetic.”
Like a shark in the waves, Katrina swam toward the unsuspecting men. One of them was in deeper water where his toes barely touched the bottom. The coconut flew in his direction, and he leapt in the air to catch it. He scooped it out of the air just as he splashed into the water. He came up for air.
“I caught it!” he yelled to the others. Treading water, he threw the coconut back to his pals.
In the dim night, Katrina could make out the man’s legs swirling in the water as he floated in place. She positioned herself beneath him. Then, with the strength and swiftness of a shark’s jaws, she tugged him by the ankles and pulled him under.
The surprised man flailed about as Katrina deftly maneuvered his neck between her thighs. She held him down, floating just beneath the surface. The man’s eyes blinked with astonishment. He tried to loosen her grip on his neck, but that didn’t work against someone with Katrina’s unique physical condition. His face rubbed against the smooth, black, neoprene surface of Katrina’s wetsuit. His lungs burned and ached to take a breath. He was drowning . . .
Back on the shoreline, the man’s two buddies looked around.
“Where’s Deke?” said one man.
“He was swimming right over there,” said another. “Where’d he go?”
“Maybe a shark got him.”
“Or a mermaid!”
“I’ve got goggles; I’ll swim over there and look for him.”
Katrina kept her victim wedged in her wetsuited thighs as he kicked and flailed. His oxygen depleted quickly. He sensed the terrible fate that awaited him and practically screamed under water. His mouth opened and an explosion of bubbles burst forth. Seawater flooded his lungs. He spluttered and gagged. His jaw stretched wide as he strained for air that didn’t come. There were spasms and twitches as his muscles involuntarily fought for survival. Moments later, lifeless eyes stared back at Katrina as the man slipped into unconsciousness and death. She let go and he spiraled to the bottom.
The guard with the goggles was swimming toward Katrina as she lay in ambush for him. The water was dark and filled with silt, making it difficult for him to see below. Katrina, however, could see his silhouette passing on the surface above. When the man passed overhead, Katrina silently kicked her fins and began to swim toward him, careful not to rise too fast. She was slightly below and behind him now and gaining ground. The man changed directions and began to double back. Through his goggles he suddenly saw a facemask looking back at him. Katrina unsheathed the knife strapped to her thigh and slashed it upward, plunging it into the man’s exposed belly. He opened his mouth to scream, but Katrina used her other hand to grab his hair and keep his head underwater. The man kicked and splashed, clutching the blade stuck deep into his abdomen. Blood flowed in billowing clouds. Katrina twisted the knife. His whole body shuddered and splashed in the water, reluctantly surrendering to the lethal wound. Katrina yanked him under, and the man sank with the knife still stuck in his belly.
The last of the three coconut players stood on the beach scratching his head when neither of his mates returned. What would he tell his superiors? ‘Sir, we were playing catch with a coconut, and two of us got lost in the ocean.’ It was a bad situation for him that quickly got worse when a wetsuit-clad girl rose out of the waves and waded toward him.
“Oh, shit!” the man hollered when he recognized the female assassin. Perhaps he was aroused by the sight of Katrina, her tight body looking wet and dangerous in that scuba outfit, because he hesitated for a split second before turning tail to run.
Katrina’s spear gun sent a shaft directly through the back of the man’s skull so that the tip exited from his forehead. The man collapsed on the beach. Katrina slowly walked through the tide toward him, taking off her gear, fully expecting to find him lying stone cold dead on the sand. But he wasn’t . . .
“You’re not dead?” said Katrina indignantly. “But I shot you through the head with a spear gun!”
The man just sat there, blinking, befuddled. His fingers ran along the tail of the spear at the back of his head and the tip protruding from his forehead.
“Don’t you have a brain in that pretty, little coconut of yours, or is it just empty up there?” said Katrina as she knelt over him. Then a light bulb went on. “Oh, I know what happened! I’ve seen this on the Discovery Channel! You know, those stories about construction workers who accidentally get impaled in the head by a steel rod, and they end up being perfectly fine, except green looks red to them now, or something. That must’ve happened to you, too!”
The man continued to touch the spear in his head, a puzzled look on his face.
“Let me try something,” said Katrina as she straddled the dazed man. She took the tip of the spear in her hand, and with very soft pressure began to bend it. The man’s left arm immediately began flapping uncontrollably.
“Wow! Look what I did!” said Katrina excitedly. “Let me try something else.”
Katrina gently twisted the spear in a different direction. This time the man’s right eye began to wink involuntarily. She continued experimenting on him, making his body do things against his will.
“You’re just like one of those dogs you can scratch in a certain place, and their legs start shaking! This is hilarious!”
The man sat there stoically as Katrina pushed the spear again. This time, the man gasped. His mouth hung open stupidly and his tongue seemed to rise and fall like he was panting. Katrina felt something bump her in the crotch of her wetsuit. She looked down and saw a pyramid rising in the man’s swim trunks.
“Oh, boy!” exclaimed Katrina. “I found something good!”
Katrina applied a bit more pressure to the spear, and the man instantly wrapped both of his hands around his noodle. As it swelled in size, his whole body began to shudder and break into a cold sweat.
“You DO have something in that brain after all,” said Katrina. She looked up and down the well-defined muscles of the lad and said, “I should’ve guessed; you look like you were built for sex and not much else!”
Katrina found it difficult to remain crouched in the man’s lap because he was jacking himself off so violently. But she kept the pressure on that spot in his brain, giggling as he slapped himself silly.
“That’s it, boy!” Katrina encouraged him. “You show that sausage who’s boss!”
The man slobbered and grunted as his beastly orgasm began to start. He was spanking himself at full speed when the first drops of his hot candle wax started leaking.
“Now let’s see what ELSE we can find in that empty head of yours,” said Katrina as she took the spear in her hands and began to jerk it around roughly, scrambling the man’s brains.
The man’s swim trunks filled with sticky wetness right at the moment his orgasm peaked and Katrina pureed his brains. He convulsed as if his bones were made of rubber. His entire body bounced violently as Katrina destroyed his nervous system. Love sauce continued to fill his trunks. He fell onto his back and jiggled like a gelatin dessert. Katrina rode him and let his jumping hips bang into her crotch. She couldn’t feel the stickiness of his loins through her wetsuit, but the sporadic crash of his wood against her pussy made her smile.
“Mmmmmm,” hummed Katrina. “I like it!”
The brain-jumbled man gave Katrina a few more bumps to the crotch, but his spasms quickly subsided. He twitched in very small movements now; his coconut-tossing days were over. He lay there with the spear still sticking out of his head like a joystick Katrina had used to play him.
“So cute, so big, and yet so brainless,” said Katrina as she stood up and hovered over the dead man. “I think all men should have a control stick like that.”
Katrina dragged the man’s body into a grove of palm trees and covered it with fallen fronds. She looked around for a suitable place to sleep; it was going to be a tough day tomorrow with all those Red Sword bastards stirring up trouble.
“I just need some sleep right now,” said Katrina as she unzipped her wetsuit and stepped out of it. “Even a girl with superhuman strength gets tired.”
Katrina curled up and shut her eyes, hoping that it would be a long time before the Red Sword guys found anyone washed up on the shore . . . or buried under palm fronds.
Katrina dreamt she was being chased. Her legs felt heavy, filled with lead. They were catching up to her . . . closing in . . . she couldn’t make it . . . they were almost upon her . .
She awoke with a start and caught her breath. It was just a dream.
Dawn was breaking. Katrina’s shoulders sagged.
“Not another day.”
The truth was, even though she was an unparalleled killing machine, Katrina was human. She was tired. She was disappointed that Laura hadn’t given an accurate estimate of the Red Sword forces. Now she had to face an unknown but definitely much greater number of them. She longed to go home and be with her friends.
Katrina sat there a long time as the first rays of sunlight shone from the horizon. She might’ve stayed hidden there all day if it weren’t for the sounds of men approaching.
“Oh, why don’t these dumb guys give it a rest already?”
The search party drew closer and closer. Katrina ducked behind a cluster of palm trees. On the ground, several hard, green coconuts were scattered.
The Red Sword soldiers advanced, trying not to be noisy but failing miserably at it. They wore the same red swimsuits as all the others, but some of these guys had jaunty pith helmets on their heads.
“They look like they should be working at a friggin’ amusement park,” said Katrina when she spotted them in their helmets.
Katrina waited until one of the soldiers was almost next to her before she pounced. She clapped her hand over his mouth and quickly punched him three times in the gut. He made muffled ‘oof’ sounds with each blow. His eyes rolled around in their sockets and then he croaked and dropped.
Katrina picked up his machine gun and hid again behind the trees. Not wanting to make too much noise, she set down the gun and picked up one of the coconuts. As another man approached, Katrina hauled back and threw the coconut at him with the force of a cannon.
Clunk! The coconut hit the man in the pith helmet, knocking it clear off his head. He staggered on his feet a moment, then fell. Katrina wasn’t sure if the blow had killed him.
Another man heard the noise and rushed over. Katrina took a coconut in hand and launched it at him. The coconut shattered against his taut abs. The man doubled up and blood trickled out the side of his mouth: he was definitely a goner.
The Red Sword idiots gradually realized something was happening. They began to swarm and head for Katrina. She cocked her arm back and hurled coconut after coconut at the soldiers. Some she simply knocked out; others bought it when the hard fruit smacked into them like mortar shells. Men dropped left and right. They began firing their weapons and calling for reinforcements.
Katrina aimed for their pith helmets. “I’m going to knock . . . those stupid hats . . . off the heads . . . of every, last one . . . of you motherfuckers!” She paused between words to make a throw.
The tropical missiles were taking out quite a few bad guys, but the supply was soon exhausted. More Reds came at Katrina. She picked up her machine gun and fired at them, blasting a few of them right off their feet. A sea of men kept coming.
“What do I do now?” Katrina wondered.
Katrina turned and ran. She sprinted as fast as she could, which was considerably faster than any of the men chasing her. When she was a good distance away from them, she shimmied up a tall coconut tree and concealed herself among the leaves. She was sweating and panicking. Her skills were great, but not great enough to fight hundreds of men at once.
Katrina was weighing her options when she heard a sound nearby.
Katrina looked around, tore off a coconut, and got ready to throw it. “Who’s there?” she whispered.