Megaton vs American Idol/Lana Powers

something i threw together between comissions over the last few months. thought it would be fun to write a superheroine catfight. hope to do more some time, and open to suggestions and criticism

“And what exactly is the problem now, Powers?”
Lana Powers fidgeted awkwardly under the gaze of her gym coach. She was a stereotype in and of herself, a highschooler with messy, dark brown hair that got in her face. Her bangs were only kept at bay from poking herself in the eyes by the black-rimmed glasses she wore, and her skin was a shade that suggested she had some unknown, darker minority lurking several generations in her past. She wore jeans and old sneakers, and a baggy red hoodie she kept on constantly these past few months.
“I just… don’t need to take off my hoodie, that’s all,” she muttered meekly in reply, shuffling her sneakers on the gym floor as the other girls watched in amusement. Everyone else wore the standard gym uniform, shorts and jersey-like tops or tees, making her stand out all the more.
“Nobody else seems to have a problem with the uniform, Powers. What exactly makes you so very special?” the coach persisted.
“Well,” Lana said with a perky tilt of her head. “I had a weird run in with my science teacher a few months ago. See, we were messing around with his research project, which I THOUGHT was just in developing new ideas for an electric car or something, but found out way later it was for weaponizing some energy source he’d invented. He sprung the idea of testing it on me, but you know, not in the bad way where he just shoots me with it, but stuck these gloves on me… no, gauntlets, I guess. But yea, he sticks em on and they strap onto me, giving me superhuman powers like punching shit, only they don’t really come off. So it was ok to wear this through health class, but if it’s ok with you, teach, I’d rather leave my super identity a secret, okay?”


Then she stopped daydreaming. “I um… I have a weird birth mark there…” she mumbled to her teacher, avoiding eye contact. Powers or not, she was a pretty crappy liar. It was her status as already being a freak at school that kept this from sticking out too badly.  She was unpopular, didn’t like wearing popular or trashy clothes (they were usually one and the same), and kept to herself. She wasn’t even one of the science geeks, just above average intelligence and needed the extra credit from her science professor. If she were smarter, maybe she could help him figure out how to get the power gauntlets off, or come up with a better way to hide them.
“And I’m not special or anything, it’s just…. I don’t think that it’s important that everyone dress up for gym, is all.”
The gym coach kept up her sour expression and looked ready to give her a final warning to when a booming came from the distance outside, and the ground rumbled beneath their feet, a minor earthquake that caused everyone to have to reclaim their footing. “What in the red white and blue hell?” grumbled the coach before there was a loud crash, the wall of the far side of the gym suddenly gaining a large hole in it as a tall figure barged through it.
The woman lifted her head and shook her body like a dog, shedding the leftover dust and rubble that clung to her largely bared body. She stood comfortably over six and a half feet tall, a no part of her even allowing the thought that she showed any sign of weakness. Sharp green eyes, a firm jawline, black hair straight (if not a bit dirty) just above her shoulders, broad shoulders, a full and outthrust chest, hard flat abs, thick sturdy legs, a skimpy black outfit that showed off a farmer’s tan. Nothing on earth would whole-heartedly want to fuck with this woman. There would, of course, be those who would want to just plain fuck her, but the handful who could survive it would be lured in by the cleavage- baring, thigh-hugging black leather outfit that seemed so popular with heroines and villainesses alike.
The woman grinned, her face marked with a small, seemingly useless streak of chamoflauge on each cheek, and a headband wrapped around her forehead, another around the bulging bicep of the arm that held the large duffel back. People gaped on, most unnoticing of the bag itself being partly open, a large wads of bills inside.
“SO sorry, little ladies,” she chimed casually. “You know how police can get. They’re squishy and fragile and all, but annoying enough that you might as well avoid em, and this was the only shortcut to the ol’ base I knew about. I’m sure you understand.”

“Fucking Megaton,” Lara hissed under her breath in the locker room, slipping away while everyone else was distracted. She ditched her hoodie and went to work with the supplies from her backpack. “She has a figure that can pull off that kind of slut suit. And a body that doesn’t have a way too identifiable scar from falling off her tricycle as a kid…”
Lara threw on her makeshift hero disguise. She decided early on a traditional superhero outfit wouldn’t be very practical to drag around, so she’d made do with using her own unpopularity to her advantage. She’d swiped a spare cheerleader outfit some time ago and tailored it a bit to be less recognizable. She slid on the red and blue low-cut top and short skirt, a pair of thick boots (practical ones, not those hooker boots), and tied up her hair behind her in a cute set of ponytail. She put a bit of pink lipstick over her full lips and a very brief, quick application of makeup. She adjusted her top to make sure the push-up bra was in place, and that the diamond shaped hole was perfectly placed to expose as much of her breasts (namely cleavage and sideboob) as seemed casually legal.
And there! She was disguised! American Idol was her tentative name in the news, but it wasn’t something she was in love with. Just couldn’t come up with anything better. But her alter ego was working wonderfully. Nobody noticed the dorky girl in the hoody, so the slutted up cheerleader with the eye-drawing rack would be her polar opposite, like in those teen movies where the nerd gets a makeover. Then she has to infiltrate a frat and learns about herself or something. She didn’t watch a lot of those… but either way, if the disguise didn’t get them to avoid putting two and two together, the “over here!” tits window would keep them from studying her face too closely.

But Megaton... she was big leagues. Lara had beaten up plenty of thugs and muggers, and she knew there were mutants and wizards and aliens out there with actual powers. She even tangled with a few of them, but tried to keep her crime fighting fairly mundane leveled. Megaton was a majorly powerful bitch, apparently a former military trainee who had been hit with some experimental bomb. The radiation or whatever was involved gave her exponential growth in her strength and size (everywhere, it seemed, based on her DDD cup rack), but had also done odd things with her hormones and brain waves. In short, she was a normal, very strong woman, but now and then her mind and body would shift into a semi-primal state of rage, greed and ferocity, a vicious alpha female who raged and did whatever she wanted until some hero or massive military force put her down.

"And lucky me, I get to play 'massive military force' today..." She sighed. If she did come out on top, it would be good for her popularity. It might also bring down a new arch enemy, as these things tend to do, but... she couldn't just ignore it.
Megaton held a pair of screaming girls up by the hair, grinning proudly to them. "Well, not a total loss. I did pick up a pair of sexy little hostages in the process."
BOINK!
Megaton barely registered the feeling, pausing before looking at her feet. A dodgeball. She turned and looked up the bleachers, where small-time hero the American Idol stood, tossing another dodgeball up and down in her hand.
"Sorry, tons of fun. That means you're out," Powers said proud and loud (another reason she wasn't recognizable). "So why not sit on the sidelines until the police comes to take you home?"
Megaton laughed at her, dropping one of the girls and cracking her knuckles with one hand. "Oh, you should have killed me with that free shot, not made a fucking pun." She reared back her hand and whipped the remaining blond hostage at AI, flying screaming through the air.
"It wasn't so much a pun as a rhetorik, I guess OHFUCKINGHELL!" Powers panicked and threw up her gauntleted mitts, grabbing annoying gossip bitch Becky Winters out of the air. She looked dizzy when Powers set her back down, maybe short an inch or so of hair, but alright.
"Oh wow... you just saved me..." Becky muttered, looking in surprise at AI... and was she blushing.
"Lez out later, promise," AI insisted with a frown, turning back just as Megaton was barreling up the bleaches, smashing each seat beneath her feet as she went.
"Ok, big guns time is now!" Powers thought, he gauntlets glowing a bright green within its various tubing and fortified glass. She clenched her fists and clapped her arms together, giving off a violent subatomic shockwave that blasted out as a green laser beam into Megaton, hurling her back across the entire gym and through the wall.

"Oh please, let this be a short anti-climax," American Idol whispered under her breath as the rubble fell over the hole in the wall. Her bracers blinked their green light, indicating it would be able to uphold the thin barriers that would provide her super strength and protection, but her trump card (the power beams) would be out of the game for a while until its mini-generators repopulated it with quasi-matter... or something. Again, she didn't actually make them...

"I'm gonna hang your naked ass up a flagpole for that!!!" raged the voice on the other side of the wall.
"Nope, that's not melodramatic enough," Powers sighed, hopping down from the bleachers in one go. She had to distance herself from the crowd of other teens before they got hurt or started asking questions. She hopped out of the hole in the wall, looking around for the propelled villain... and finding nothing.
Megaton had leapt up to the roof, now hurling herself and swinging a beachball-sized hunk of concrete at the heroine's head. The improvised weapon shattered into debris against American Idol's head, knocking the teenager to the pavement with a loud grunt, which was in turn drowned out by the smashing stone. The barriers made by the gauntlets saved her from dying on the spot, but still stung as it acted more like a genuine suit of armor than invincibility. A blow to the helmet won’t crack your skull open, but it will still leave your head rattling around plenty.
She was downed and groaning, holding her head when Megaton stooped down, grabbing her by the hair Powers cried out in pain, lifted clean off her feet by the powerhouse villainess as she shook her, body flopping like a rag doll as she tried to hold her scalp to reduce the pain.
“No more laser suckerpunches out of you, super tart” she growled, winding up and hurling Powers several blocks through the air. By the time she opened her eyes felt the wind in her hair and was sailing over the rooftops, and shortly thereafter she felt herself landing roughly on a rooftop to a skyscraper and bouncing a few times before stopping, wind knocked out of her and her ribs and scalp sore, but long run… probably ok.

Powers boosted herself up to all fours, huffing some air back into her lungs but hearing more smashing distant below. She leaned over the edge, seeing Megaton stalking her up the wall, fists and fingers slamming handholds into the wall as her muscled arms hauled her up after her. It was a good 10 stories down, high up but at least Megaton had some work to get to her.
"Dammit," she groaned, but at least she was focused on fighting her rather than some squishier normal person. "Gotta think fast." Powers browsed over her assortment of super powers, but decided to stick with a classic maneuver. As Megaton's head came into view, Powers was standing there waiting with a leg drawn back, kicing to launch dust and dirt into her eyes.
"I'll take an antihero point for that one, if it means keeping my head" she excused in the back of her mind. Megaton gave a sharp cry and clutched her face, leaving her blind as Powers leapt up and performed a spin kick to slam her in the face. A chunk of the rooftop cracked and gave way under her strong strong grip as Megaton tilted back a bit. Powers went for another, but this time Megaton caught her by the foot as it hit her in the chest, falling back up taking her with her off the roof.
The two fell down towards the streets,Megaton blinded and swinging long, hard blows at her. Powers took a few to the chest and jaw, bouncing her head and tits around, but dodged the worst of the unaimed shots. Powers grabbed Megaton by the hair, swinging a fist rapidly into her face adn trying to mount herself on top of her to keep her aimed at the ground, so she would hit it full blast.
There was indeed a massive crash as over 200 lbs of muscle smashed into the pavement from 10 stories up. And that was not counting Powers. It was  a combination of the sound of flesh colliding and a cracking of pavement, leaving a crater about 4 feet deep at its center and easily 12 feet wide. The impact hurled Powers off of her foe, bouncing wildly away, but Megaton's loud groaning clearly showing she took the brunt of the impact.
Powers shook out her head, laughing a bit as the adrenaline still rushed in her from the freefalling brawl. "Ha! Had enough, big guy?" she huffed, standing up but having to lean on the wall after a second whens he got dizzy.
"Urghh... gonna milk those super tits dry when I get my hands on you," Megaton groaned, starting to stand up slowly, leaning on her knee.
"Ok, no time to rest after all," Powers sighed, rushing at her and leaping to deliver a crushing blow across the face. Megaton's head bucked, but barely bruised let alone bleeding for all the beating she'd taken. Blasted through two walls and dropped off a roof, and the muscle bitch still looked good.
Megaton was knocked back to rest on one arm, but grabbed Powers around the neck with one massive hand. She lifted her up and slammed her head by it repeatedly into the pavement. Her nose crashed rapidly into the hard ground, cracking it with her face in spreading fractures. Her face itself remained largely in tact, if not dirtied, but the pain still shot through her teen tender face plenty.
"DIRTY! CHEATING! TRAMP!" Megaton snarled at her, hurling her to the ground like a frustrated ape. She raised a boot to stomp on her head, but Powers rolled aside by instinct when the attack let up. Megaton's boot damaged the pavement in the alleyway further, Powers lashing up and grabbing hold of her opponent's hair. She swung it hard into the nearest wall, Megaton's head slamming through the brick. She wound up to slam her head down again, but Megaton's thick arm reached out around her shoulder, grabbing and smashing Powers' head through the wall after her. She was almost face to face with the villainess again, apparently their necks and up inside someone's kitchen as a random housewife nearby screamed.
Megaton snarled and slammed her head forward again, and Powers felt no hard impact of steel or concrete this time, but a swelling sensation at her head. She realized she was submerged in the kitchen sink, as well as the fact that the kinetic barriers of the gauntlets didn't do much for drowning. She gurgled and struggled, spitting out bubbles under the water and clawing at Megaton's iron grip.
Realizing that wasn't getting her much of anywhere, Megaton still grinning madly down at her, Powers leaned into her dunking, grabbing the hole in the wall she was pressed through and shooting a kick into Megaton's knee and making her lose her footing.
Powers spent a moment rising to gasp for air when Megaton grabbed at her aching knee joint, then turned and grabbed the edges of the kitchen sink, ripping up the sink and its entire counter space before turning and swinging it as a crude club, smashing Megaton across the face and sending her tumbling through the alley and into the streets. Civilians and cars sped and swerved away from the action, Powers catching her breath a moment before rushing after her, wet hair whipping behind her.

Megaton was rising dazed from the streets when Powers came sprinting after her. She leapt up and braced a foot on the overgrown she-beast’s thigh and a knee on her breasts, supported by the villain’s bulk as she started to swing away with a barrage of punches to the face. Megaton’s head whipped back and forth. There were no bruises or blood showing on her inpenetrable skin, but the winces and grunts of pain told Powers her amplified bombardment was doing a number on her all the same.
Megaton reached up when she got used to the shocks of pain, throwing up her arms to grab Powers by the shoulders. She yanked on her arms, pulling straight out to stretch the limbs outward.
“If I can’t beat you to shit, I’ll tear you to pieces!” fumed the villainess, pupils changing visibly changing size as her chemical-ridden brain was going more and more berserk as the possibility of loss entered the recesses of her mind. Powers screamed out as her arms felt ready to come out of her sockets, thrashing and writhing a bit to try and dislodge herself. When that failed, she thought fast and swung her legs up, using Megaton’s grip like parallel bars to hook her thighs around Megaton’s neck. She twisted and flung Megaton off balance, tumbling into a truck and banging her head on the door.
Powers rushed after her while she was leaned up against the truck, dragging herself up by it. That was how it appeared, at the time, she’d tell herself. Really, Megaton wasn’t grabbing support, but a weapon. She let out a giant snarl and swung her hips, digging her fingers into the tanker truck and smashing Powers across the face with it. It shattered at the impact, hurling Powers away and utterly soaked.
The stink gave it away quickly. “A beer truck,” she groaned in her dazed and battered brain as she laid out on the sidewalk sticky and wet. “Wait til I have to explain this to mom…” She barely got a hand on the pavement to push herself up when Megaton was already back on her, discarding the remains of the vehicle. When she stood up on shaky legs, there was a sound of tearing wood. She looked up to see Megaton wielding an entire telephone poll, swinging it like a club to smash Powers cross the face. Spit flew from her mouth, stumbling to one side awkwardly. She struck again, thrusting it forward to ram Powers in the belly. She huffed and doubled up, wet ass sticking out under her skirt. Worse still, her legs spread out to let her balance in this awkward stance, and Megaton lowered her giant weapon before swinging it upward. Powers’ eyes went wide and her mouth hung open in a pathetically silent squeak, choking as the telephone pole swung like a rising hammer into her teen pussy.
She fell to the ground paralyzed in pain as Megaton threw her weapon aside and stood over her, raising a booted foot and smashing it down onto Powers’ guts before one more between Powers’ legs for good measure.
A high shriek left the heroine as she spasmed under her pussy stomp, Megaton’s teeth bared in a wild grin. “That’s what I like to hear! Scream, blondy! Tell me how much it hurts!”  She grinded her heel into her, Powers fearing even her barrier wouldn’t hold up to stop her pelvis from being crushed between her foot and the sidewalk. Powers threw desperate kicked up at Megaton’s thighs and legs, even landing a pussy shot of her own in her desperation, but adrenaline and super skin let her grin and bear it, even as it stung Megaton’s own tenderized body as her powers seemed near their own limits.
“See? Not all of us are such lightweights. Now let’s see if I can’t pop that little hero cherry of yours… and the REST of you while I’m at it!!” Megaton raised her boot for another curb stomp that would turn any other human into an indistinguishable blood stain. Powers felt her life flash before her eyes, mind racing between prayers, tactics, and regrets in wardrobe as her skirt and soaked panties did not allow much for fans to imagine.
But a few panicking brain cells collided. Her cunt could be hurt even under the barrier when it was hit hard enough. She couldn’t hit with enough power to match Megaton’s raw power or endurance, but…
She didn’t have time to check the meter on her gauntlets, just throwing up an arm and grabbing hold of Megaton’s crotch. The villainess hesitated a split second before trying to continue, only for the gloves to glow and give a freshly recharged explosion of kinetic energy. The last blast to the pussy had Megaton howl in pain just before flying backward and through an entire office building before landing on the ground, holding her smoking crotch that was seared down to her underwear. Powers distantly wondered what it was about super underwear that never burned or blew off, but she ignored it for now as she limped after her.
Megaton still squirmed and groaned, rubbing her burned and aching thighs and cringing weakly. She felt her hair pulled, yanking her into a sitting position so Powers could kneel behind her and wrap an arm around her throat. “Can suck up all the bullets you want, chunky,” she huffed, arching her back to pull the hold harder and mash her boobs into Megaton’s shoulderblades. “But even us supers gotta breathe.”
The brutish woman gurgled and grabbed at her with her big ape hands, but couldn’t get the power or leverage to do a thing beyond pull Powers’ hair. Powers felt her struggle for a few minutes before even her super lungs gave out, going limp and drooling messily over Powers’ arm.
“Gross,” she grunted, standing up and staggering back as police finally dared to approach. “Take em away. She’s harmless, for a while.” She knew about Prometheus Island, the place off the coast where they had special gear to contain all sorts of super villains. It worked great, and it had to, because Powers shuddered to think of the sorts that could get loose if it failed.
“Thank  a lot, Idol,” one of the officers said, and Powers had to blush and smile back.
“Thanks,” she sighed, starting to walk off before he spoke up.
“Don’t mind me sayin’ so, you’re a real hero, ma’am,” he said with a charming smile. “They all say Major Muscles is a sellout, and Magnum Man’s a nut ball, and Righteous is a good doll but she’s kinda preachy… But you, you’re a real favorite down at the force.”
She was bright red now, shuffling her feet. “Well…. Thanks. That kinda means a lot to me…” Better than Major Muscles? She had to wonder how she stacked up to the other female heroes like Amazonian and She-Beast, but she felt sure he counted them too.
She gave them a proud little salute before walking off, not too quickly in case they had more compliments for her. It was all the same for the cops, because in her mind-numbing soreness and exhaustion, she didn’t notice the tear in her skirt from all the beatings it took, and that the beer-soaked panties were wedged right up her ass crack for all to see as they watched her go.
“Like I says,” the cop smiled and shook his head, tucking that mental photograph away for later. “A real favorite.”

Spy Harder

**recent commission, customer wanted a one-sided beat down. not my favorite setup, but I can write it. Kind of like writing the delusion of hope into the loser's perspective, though**



Amanda Pines entered the hotel, presenting her fully prepaid registration to the clerk. Nothing out of the ordinary about her at a glance, apart from a particular rare beauty about her. She was preened and primped with extreme effort, finely done makeup and hair and reasonably expensive clothes. A fine fur-lined coat covered most of her body apart from some boots and slacks on to keep out the cold winds of a New York winter. Nothing out of the ordinary, especially for another American traveler.
Of course, Agents Pines wasn't necessarily a normal traveler, beneath her cover. She went upstairs, entering her room and reviewing her schedule as she shed her winter clothing. The cleaning staff was supposed to be working this level about now, but she'd seen that the usual worker would be delayed from car trouble. It left Room 158 without a cleaner for the day, but Ilsa wouldn't be expecting this. It was a perfect chance for Pines to launch her ambush and stop the crooked commy spy once and for all, quickly and quietly.
Pines granted herself a look into the full-length mirror attached to the closet. She wore her trusty form-fitting catsuit underneath it, hugging her slim and sexy 5'8, 112 lb figure tightly enough to leave nothing to the imagination. A healthy and well defined body; slim waist, long legs, well-kept hair and makeup, a tight ass, and perky, shapely C-cups. She was the envy of girls half her age, and she knew it. A part of her adored it, and while her suit was ideally chamoflauged as a dull black, left no loose bits to leave skin samples or clothing fibers to identify her with, and provided minimal friction to her movements, she loved most of all was the faces she got on distracted targets and henchmen who got a look at her.
She flashed herself a winning smile at the mirror and walked briskly and quietly out the door to her room. She knocked lightly on Ilsa's door. "Housekeeping," Pines called softly.
"Come in," responded a clear, American-sounding voice. Pines still recognized the voice, swinging the door open and bursting in. Ilsa awaited her inside, a gun raised at her. Amanda was ready for such an occurance, a quick slam of her palm hitting the side of her pistol and pinning it to the wall, a twist of her wrist spiraling it out of Ilsa's grip.
Ilsa shook a strong wrist to break her hand free from Amanda's grip rather quickly. The girls took a half pace back, regrouping and giving Amanda her first good look at the Russian agent.

Ilsa was shorter but significantly bigger than Agent Pines, for better or worse. She was 5'4, and 250 lbs, and had a lovely face with thick dark hair, and most resemblances ended there. Ilsa was a full figured woman, plenty of muscle even if it was mostly buried under a few layers of dense fat. Her tits were huge, almost spherical E cups, soft and with a low enough cut on her suit to show them jiggle with almost any movement. Her arms were widely built, though the muscles only showed much when she flexed, and thighs and belly were far wider and meatier than Amanda's. While Amanda was poured into her costume like a liquid, Ilsa's body barged inside of her outfit and demanded it make room for her.
 When she confidently cocked her hip, placing a hand on her side, just above her buttock, her own catsuit bulged in reaction to contain her broad body. "Cute. Is this the best the Americans  have to stop me?" she grinned broadly.
"It's all we need for a lousy spy like you," Amanda insisted, maintaining her confidence. Ilsa was bigger than she'd expected up close, but she was still a trained secret agent. She'd fought bigger targets, usually armed. She rainsed her hands in a flexible martial arts stance, while Ilsa strut after her with at least as much confidence as the American agent, big hips wiggling with her stride.
Amanda lashed out with her fingers extended stiffly, a thrust trying to stop the fight quickly with a jab to the throat. Ilsa surpised her as she easily batted the hand away in mid-strike with her forearm, Amanda taking a desperate swing with her other hand at the Russian's head. She halted the sloppy move just as easily, both arms raised and ready as she swung her big hands inward to box the American's ears. A nasty pop went through Amanda's head from the move, knees getting weak as her nerves reacted poorly to the whole experience. She caught herself on the wall, leaning on it and wincing painfully as she held her head. It was more than enough of an opening for Ilsa to swing a meaty fist up into Amanda's belly, knuckles sinking into her shallow stomach and beating the wind right out of her.
"UHFFF!" Amanda wheezed, holding her belly and falling to her knees. She coughed some air back into her lungs while Ilsa towered over her, laughing loudly down at her. "Puny American barbie doll! Is U.S. so short on soldiers they send street walkers to fight me?"
Amanda growled lowly, pulling herself back to her feet. More infuriatingly, Ilsa LET her. She stood with an almost impatient posture that goaded her on. Ilsa wasn't going to be afraid of her, she'd have to make her learn to be.
Agent Pines was only mostly upright when she blindsided Ilsa with a horizontal kick to the leg, connecting with her beefy thigh. Ilsa barely budged, her juicy tits wobbling more than her tree trunk legs. Ilsa took a moment to look down at the stunned American agent, grinning before she took her by the hair, her hefty hand pulling her closer to her as Amanda flailed and screamed at the painful pull. Ilsa yanked her head under her arm, locking a meaty arm around her head and snaring her in a headlock.
Pines was begrudgingly forced to face their size advantage up close, her face pressed up against Ilsa's chubby side as a brawny limb pushed down on it. Ilsa fought for breath a moment before swinging her smaller fists into Ilsa's sides, a wild spray of punches to try and deter the meaty Russian. Her fat sides wobbled from the hits, Amanda worrying at first that the blubber was outright absorbing them before Ilsa let out a frustrated snarl, twisting her body to slam Amanda's head into the nearby wall. The American saw stars and stripes as she hit the carpeted floor, taking some tiny amount of pride in the fact her attack had at least aggrivated Ilsa, or hurt her if she was lucky.
Ilsa, meanwhile, was grinning over her. This was the agent at her best, and after a few hits like those, she looked spent. She wanted to toy with the American, break her body and her pride some more.
"Come on, super girl! This the strength of your precious country?" she goaded, waving her hands out invitingly. Amanda dragged herself up to a knee, holding her head. She threw a punch for Ilsa's big belly, bouncing off and getting a rather tiny grunt out of the dark-haired Russian. Amanda's spirits sank as it felt like her fist had barely even penetrated her hated enemy's natural padding. Ilsa flashed her a mouthful of teeth and a cruel booming laugh before grabbing Amanda by the wrist. The sheer power in her fingers made Amanda give a shout, body quivering in a jolt of pain as Ilsa twisted it, bending her arm so the rest of Amanda's body had to twist to follow.
"AHH! AHH! AHH!" she pleaded wordlessly, the pressure strong and steady on her arm in Ilsa's grip. Utterly at her mercy, Ilsa grinned down at her. She stepped over the American girl, straddling her body a moment before her big body came crashing down. Ilsa's big round ass hammered into her lower back, smashing Amanda to the ground as her slender body couldn't possibly hold over 100 pounds more than she weighed, especially in her condition.
Amanda did her pancake impression on the carpent, modest tits crushed under her ribs as she flopped pathetically. Ilsa's center of weight was apparent, as her huge ass enveloped and spread out over the skinny agent's own toned bum, as if devouring it as the weaker of its kind.
"Have I mentioned I love American girls?" Ilsa gloated over her as Amanda groaned and moaned as she grabbed for anything to pull herself free or arm herself with. But her firearm, and even the bedstand and tables, were too far for even her long lanky arms. "You all make such beautiful noises when you're in pain! Just like eeevery other yankee who comes after me!"
Ilsa was facing Amanda's feet by now, so she grabbed the taller girl's long sexy legs, bending them up until her pelvis left the mat. Amanda let out another groan as her slender back was agonized, not helped by Ilsa having still pinned her down with her grand backside. Amanda's legs were bent backward and upward, mimicking a boston crab hold from pro wrestling but practiced enough in hurting and killing to make sure the pain was real.
When she felt Amanda was satisfactorally pained, thigh and calf muscles stretched near their limits, Ilsa shifted her position, hooking her legs out and wrapping them around the American beauty's. While Amanda's were long, tight and slender, Ilsa's body once again outdid and overpowered hers, her fat but solid limbs crushing them towards her back. It wasn't much stronger than Ilsa's brawny arms, but the legs that had taken Amanda's leg sweep like a summer breeze were sturdy as could be. They supported a body like Ilsa's, after all, on top of the excess training and exercise under her (very wide) belt, so the combined weight made her legs not even consider budging against the puny might of Amanda's.
"I could do this all day, American," Ilsa smirked. "Tell me. Make Ilsa laugh. What is it you were trying to do when you found me."
"I won't talk," Amanda growled, clearly more spirit than power behind it.
"Good! With lovers and prisoners, Ilsa likes screams more than talk anyway." She leaned back, arching her chubby body until her tits looked ready to quit their current position and explode right out of her catsuit. It also served to yank her legs back further, getting another feminine howl out of Amanda.
Amanda seemed to only have the strength to claw and beat on the carpet, Ilsa using her new angle to admire herself in the mirror, much like Amanda had minutes earlier. The difference was, naturally, that she had a prize to pose with, and the original poser was now buried under 200+ pounds of Russian plus-sizedbeauty.
"Come now, princess," Ilsa said when she was done preening. "Much more time to play!" She unwrapped her legs from Amanda's, which fell like lifeless stumps to the floor. Amanda was panting, finally able to get a breath in that wasn't quite so forced or part of a scream. Ilsa stood up over her, patting Amanda's ass condescendingly.
"Come come, on your feet for Mama Ilsa!" she urged, and when Amanda's body failed to obey, whether her mind did or not, Ilsa grabbed onto her hair with a rough fistful. Amanda let out an "AIEEE!" of pain, skinny body writhing at another shocking jolt. Ilsa used her other hand to get a grip on Amanda's catsuit, just below the waist, and tugged up hard with a hefty grunt, reminding Amanda distantly of one of those strong man contests or weight lifters.
It came to her why, as she felt herself whizz through the air. She saw briefly in the mirror that she was horribly accurate with her association. Ilsa had lifted her clean off her feet, and lifted her with no minor effort, but still completely over her own head like a dumbell. Amanda flailed and screamed in surprise, then in fear as she realized just how far down it was between her face and the floor.
"Oh, you want down!?" Ilsa laughed loudly, clearly sweating but only just so with the force of lifting and balancing the invading American. "Ilsa can help with that!"
She swung her arms down and let go, abruptly smashing Amanda down on the bed. She hit hard and bounced clean back off the springy bed, not once but twice before settling on her back, staring agape at the ceiling splayed out like a corpse.
"No time for bed, sleepy girl!" Ilsa grinned, suddenly appearing in her line of sight. It was getting incredibly strange for Pines to keep seeing the shorter, thicker girl appearing over her. Then again, the last time she was above her was when she was being lifted like a rag doll, so maybe it could be worse.
Ilsa wrapped her thick gorilla arms around Amanda's slender waist, lifting her up off the bed in her strong but loose grip. She pulled Amanda sharply into her, bearhugging the skinny American into her bigger body. Amanda cried out painfully, Ilsa recklessly wrecking her back with the hug as none of thestaff would be there to overhear them. She lifted Amanda up higher, the American agent able to rest her head briefly on her shoulder. Ilsa made sure even her long legs wouldn't be touching the ground at the angle, concentrating the pain of her squashing grip right into Agent Pines' back.
Amanda's face went red and wide-eyed from the cracking in her spine as Ilsa played chiropracter on her. She slapped at Ilsa's back, for leverage at first to minimize the pain, the clawing and thumping her fist between her shoulder blades. Even that couldn't budge the burly Russian, as she swung herself in one direction, leaving Amanda's spindly body to buck along with her and snap to a halt in the iron grasp, giving another jolt through her spine. Ilsa's belly wobbled aginst hers, like miniature slaps to Amanda's own tight and slender stomach.
"Aghhh!!" Amanda howled out, managing to get her body back to an angle where she could get her hands between her and Ilsa, shoving at the shorter thicker woman's chest. It ached her back further, bending herself like that as her hands sunk into Ilsa's impressive tit flesh like shallow quicksand. Ilsa smirked confidently at her struggles, getting nowhere fast in the sturdy arms of the Russian. Amanda tried to grab at her biceps and shove them outward, but they were all but set in stone, her biceps twitching a bit but unrelenting in the squeezing.
Desperate for a way out, Amanda had nothing more to prove. She brought her painted nails up in a quick rake across Ilsa's face, the beastly strong woman letting out a sharp surprised growl as releasing one arm to hold her face and the red marks that lashed across her eyes. Ilsa's eyes watered, but she still held on tight to Amanda with her remaining arm. Amanda shoved and kicked at her, pushing away with both hands... and STILL she barely moved! Ilsa was still keeping her captive with one arm to her entire body! She was fighting a miniaturized mountain of a woman!
With all her might, Amanda ripped her body from the blinded Ilsa's monstrous grasp, panting and muscles screaming at her in agony. She had to escape. Regroup. Try another approach! Anything to get away and fight another day! Her body was beaten, and her catsuit was stretched and starting to get torn from her being tossed around so frequently. Her throat was sore with screaming and groaning, head was throbbing from all her deprived oxygen.
With Ilsa still fighting blind, but wiping up the last of the reactive tears as her face was twisted in more rage than pain or fatigue, Amanda cursed the broad woman's endurance. She tried to pad her chances of escape by swinging a kick at her. "Go DOWN you fat bitch!" she huffed desperately, her foot swinging up between Ilsa's thighs... and staying there, as her meaty thighs got in the way and slowed the blow a split second enough to slap shut around her leg. Amanda looked with her mouth wide open in shock and horror, realizing she was trapped on one foot with her long slender leg caught in Ilsa's beartrap of a pair of legs.
"Just what I'd expect of cowardly American cowgirl," Ilsa spat, opening her eyes up fully again to leer at her prey. Amanda's heart sank as they met eyes, the fury in the Russian's and the despair in Amanda's making it more than clear who would be walking away from this matchup.
Ilsa slammed a fist down onto Amanda's knee, getting a pained scream from her as her body tried to double up, locked in her awkward one-legged dance to stay up. Ilsa grabbed out at her standing leg, ripping it out from under her and forcing Amanda's body to obey gravity and slam backward onto the carpet, banging her shoulders and skull against the ground until she swore she could see little canaries spiral around her eyes. Still, her leg was crushed and twisted in Ilsa's snaring thighs, fat legs devouring her limb like a toothpick as her body jiggled with every twist of her figure.
"Tell me that's not all, American! Tell Ilsa you've got more fight left in you! Tell me you're not as pathetic as you look right now!" Amanda was on her back, writhing miserably and looking ready to cry from the constant agony brought on by the dominant Russian dom. "Get up!" Ilsa barked, finally parting her legs enough for her foot to fall weakly to the mat, marked with a bit of sweat from Ilsa's crevice. "Take your beating and PRETEND you are self-respecting woman!" She put a sharp stomp to Amanda's ribs and belly, making her curl up weakly.
Ilsa grabbed her hair, trying to rip Amanda to her feet as she'd demanded like her blond strands were painful puppet strings. When all Amanda did was sob, she reached her feet and collapsed the second Ilsa let go, only managing to get to her knees and stay there. She crawled on all fours backward, like a cowering dog until her back hit a wall. Ilsa marched after her, big feet and weight thundering the floors as she moved, adding to her intimidation. She grabbed Agent Pines by the throat, shoving her semi-upright against the wall as her nails traced against the skin of her neck.
"Now one more time, please." Ilsa flexed her fingers against Amanda's throat, lifting her another few inches off the ground. Her weak legs flopped like noodles in the breeze to try and get under her, but  the angle was bad enough as it was for her long legs to try and find purchase. "What are you doing here?"
Amanda's training and resistance broke almost instantly at this point, so broken and beat up now that she just wanted a chance to survive her enounter withthis Russian monster of a woman, proving herself superior to her in every way she could think of.
"I'm here on a counter-terrorism mission!" she blurted, teary-eyed and struggling for air in Ilsa's vicious grasp. "We found you were in the city and wanted to thwart you from any assassination attempts on the diplomats meeting tomorrow."
"I am not here to kill your diplomat," sneered the Russian. "Is just what I wanted you to expect." When Amanda gave her a dumb, dazed, half-lidded stare, she grinned.
"Is like I said. Ilsa just lovs to hear American girls scream. Especially your high and mighty agents." Ilsa hit Amanda's face with a loud cracking slap that rattled her head. She gave a  mighty swing of her arm to toss Amanda to the ground like a used up toy, letting her flop ragged to the ground choking and spasming. She stood over Amanda, putting her large foot down onto Amanda's neck. She gurgled and choked under the woman's superior weight, feeling Ilsa lean into it with enough force that she could her feel her brain cells sputtering as she blacked out, but only just enough to do that. Still, Amanda could register enough flexing of her calf muscles and the held back pressure that it seemed Ilsa could crush her neck as easily as an elephant at this position.
"I do not have to kill you, Yankee slut. And for now, I won't. But this is your warning. Once. If I ever run into you again. Spot you on my mission, ee you on a street, hear you in a crowd... I will find you again, and I will end you. Much worse than I did tonight. Longer, more painful, much more... final." A derisive wad of spit his Amanda's face moments before her last conscious breath. "Remember this. Stay out of my way, pigdog."


Amanda woke back up in her own hotel room. It was not hard to imagine that Ilsa had figured out where she'd come from and had an easy enough time carrying her back. There was no trace of Ilsa when she did some more reconossaince, and the diplomats at the city were indeed left alone. But whenever the Russians were involved, the once fearless Agent Pines would always find a way to back out of the mission, fearing what might befall her if a particular counter-agent was on the scene.

Ninja vs Hit-Women

-Gotta be a better title for this... but from the same customer who requested Whore Wars, a real favorite to write. This one turned out being a bit longer and more character-oriented than planned, but still plenty of kink in there-

The mercenary women had been at the village for some time now, and it wasn't a pleasant experience for anyone. The villagers were tired of their harassment, probing questions, and general chaos and property damage they brought with them. The mercs themselves were tired of having to expose themselves to the Asian bumpkins of this two-bit town, but there were stories about this place. And if they were true, pressuring some foreigners with strongarm tactics would give them countless better payoff than genuine life-threatening work.

And so there they were, tucked away in their fully-equipped base camp in the mountains of Japan when the troop of fully-uniformed highschool girls walked in on their camp of armed soldiers, goons, toughs, and seedy brutes of various caliber. Allison, not genuinely the brains of the outfit, but a lieutenant when the real heads weren't around, approached the startled girls as they reached the large clearing where they had pitched camp during their thus-far fruitless search.

"Hey there, girlies," she grinned. Al was a fit woman, and liked to make that abundantly clear to others. She had short straight blond hair, tanned skin and a flattering chamo tank top (though the practicality could be questioned) and cargo pants. She smiled as she spoke and had a long casual stroll to her walk, but the semi-automatic rifle over her shoulders, arms resting across it like a scarecrow, did little to inspire a trustworthiness. The position continued to enhance her appearance, emphasizing the tightness in the muscles of her arms and abs, and her hefty breasts behind her top. "What brings a few kids like you so far outta your two-horse town?"

"Two horses? That's generous," scoffed one of her thicker girls sitting on a crate of supplies. "Would have thought the poor slant-eyed bumpkins woulda eaten any horses already." A few of the other hired guns laughed, but Allison motioned for them to quiet down. The schoolgirls were clearly edgy, shaking and tensed up until they looked like a bunch of spooked jailbait rabbits in short skirts.

The girls seemed cagey at first, looking around the heavily armed camp before one of them spoke up. "We're on a field trip. We're just... hiking," one managed to get out.
"Oh, good!" Alison chimed and smiled a bit wider. "Then you're from around here! See, my girlfriends and I have gotten ourselves a bit lost."

The schoolgirls did not relax whatsoever. They'd heard, either firsthand or through their parents and faculty, that the American women had been asking about the temple. It was an old memorial of sorts, not everyone clear of its purpose in the old days, but you didn't mess with old traditions in their society.

"I don't know," the schoolgirl started, fidgeting a bit. "We're... not that sure how to navigate the mountains so well..."

"Oh, but there's the easy part," Al smirked back at them. "See, we've already found the temple. We've excavated a good chunk of it, but we can't seem to find what we're looking for." The speaking schoolgirl went quiet, and her classmates fidgeted a bit more. "So if you kids can just show us what we're looking for, we can just get out of your hair."

"No way, you old cows!" One of the girls finally spoke up, and louder than any of them so far. It naturally got their attention. A gun cocked somewhere among the band of mercenaries, and several got into ready positions. Allison kept a straight face, but her smile had diminished at the very least. "We don't have to tell you anything!"

The other girls seemed to catch her confidence like an empowering virus. "Yea! Leave us alone already, and quick stinking up our town with all your foreignor sweat."
"Seriously, does it just pool up in big rivers in your cleavage by your saggy tits?" one giggled, getting into the taunting.

"Yea, show some decency with those things."

The head spokes-schoolgirl smiled a little at the taunting, but tried to keep herself serious. "So there! We're not going to tell you anything."

Allison felt a vein bulging in her head somewhere, but kept a sharp, steady tone. "Look... we heard there was a treasure in your little Jap crap hole, and we're not leaving until we find it."

"Well too bad! Looks like you'll have to drag your big American asses back home empty handed and pay for your fatty McDonalds some other way."

Generally pretty level-headed, Allison would only take so much putting down of her figure. A hand came off of her gun and lashed out like a snake, taking one of the girl by her long dark hair and dragging her a few paces forward. She shrieked in surprise, fear, and pain as Allison swiftly pulled a knife from one of the pouches on her pants, whirling it quickly before brandishing it at the other girls.

“Don’t know? Oh, you’ve got to know if you’re a virgin, little one. Or do you need mama Alison to check for you and find out?”    Makoto gave out a tender squeak as the schoolgirls grew more tense, all heads turning when the tension was swiftly penetrated with a sharp, angry shout.

"Let her GO!" accompanied the woman bursting from the trees, swinging an arcing kick that slammed into Allison's back. Her body bucked forward, shoving her chest into Makoto and losing her grip, sending the girl stumbling back towards her friends.
Merc and student alike turned with varying reactions to the woman who was standing where Alison had been before she stumbled several paces holding her sore back. She was Asian like the schoolgirls, but clearly fully grown, if not shorter than the majority of the mercs. She was dressed in similar but slightly more casual clothing than the girls' uniforms. A fairly snug pair of shorts, sneakers, and an old shirt with their school's logo on it. The clothing alone was enough to show she was not only more prepared for the hike than the girls, but in notably better shape than either of them. She had long dark hair and slightly more tanned skin than most of the girls, but it didn't show too much with her heritage. She was clearly a senior to the girls, perhaps a college student or just a fairly young teacher.

The mercs regained their composure from the surprise attack after a few seconds but not prepared or certain enough to raise their weapons any more than they already head. One more body among a few startled natives, after all. But Allison was pissed, arching her back to thrust her chest out and stretch her top further and growling lowly at the newcomer.

"The hell, psycho bitch?" she demanded with a snarl. The woman struck what Al took to be a martial arts stance, arms and legs spread just slightly apart and at the ready.
"I don't think I care for how you're speaking to my students," she said sternly, locking eyes with Allison. "If you want to pick a fight, try it with someone who's your own age. I'll take each of you on, one on one."

"You keep your nose out of our business," sneered one of the other fatal femmes. "And we're naughty girls, not some garage band. I don't recall taking requests."
"Yea," Allison growled lowly. "And I don't care how many little over-achiever medals you mighta gotten in your little gradeschool slapfight club, but you haven't got shit on the action we've seen."

"Girls, get out of here." Ami Sato was a gym teacher for their school, but more particularly the karate instructor and advisor for the judo club. The girls respected and admired her, and her orders were enough to drive them into action, starting back into the woods down their trail.

"Get them!" one of the mercs barked out curtly, the rest of the thus-far largely nameless women rose and went after the girls. The furthest and fastest of them was surprised when her feet were quite suddenly no longer underneath her shapely hips, a swift leg sweep from Ami being kind enough to relocate them for her and send her crashing into the dirt. The one behind her found the collar of her trench coat (the only garment on her upper body) grabbed by Ami and yanked down, smacking a knee into her forehead. She joined the first hit-woman on the ground, dazed but only for a few moments. Ami would have to hold the line long enough for the girls to get out of range, at least. Let them get to safety and find some help. She gave a quarter turn to shoot the flat of her upper foot into the bigger of the downed women, knocking some wind from her to keep her down.

But there was still the vengeful Allison behind her. The chesty blond reached into her cleavage and pulled out a set of knuckle dusters and palming them into place. Ami was about to busy herself with a third approaching merc (the other starting to wizen up enough to fan out around her) when Al suckerpunched her with an extra lining of brass between her knuckles and Ami's ribs, the air rushing from Aki's lungs and rattling her chest. She huffed and shuddered, her legs starting to give way immediately. Al gave a vicious knee to her back, toppling her into the dirt where the less-winded merc managed to dogpile onto her, keeping her down with hammer blows to the back of her body and head.

It was more than enough for the rest of the band of killers to overtake and herd or drag the schoolgirls back to their camp site.

"Well, good thing teach here showed up to save you, huh girls?" gloated one of the commanders in the team. The woman was another to flaunt her appearance, but almost contrarily to Allison. While her skimpy attire showed her lean muscle and generous chest, Selina was marked all over and proudly so. Her hair was composed of clearly unnatural shades of purple and deep black, and much of her legs, arms and neck marked with tattoos. Skulls, flames, vulgar cartoons, a "Front entrance" sign with an arrow on her inner thigh. Blending in with them was the occasional scar, some even incorporated creatively with the tattoos. By just wearing low-hanging cutoff jean shorts and a tank top small and tight enough to pass for a sports bra, she showed off her assorted minor mutilations enough to sacrifice her looks for some bad girl cred.

“If she hadn’ta sprung into action… well, you mighta gotten off easy.” A pair of the hitwomen held up Ami with her arms behind her back, the teacher wincing but open enough to glare back at her captors. With a casually practiced motion, Selina drew a pair of knives from her belt loops. “Well, just means we got one more little girl worth persuadin’…” Ami sweat a bit at the sight of Selina moving in on her, brandishing her knives and relishing the teacher’s expression, licking her lips with a studded tongue. She pressed the knife down against her belly, just lightly enough to make her tight tummy recoil from its edge. Instead though, Selina gave a fine, quick cut up her body, slicing clean between the center of her bra and shirt in one go. Both slid off unsteadily, to the jeering laughter of the rest of the mercs.

“Aww, what cute little mosquito bites you got there!” Selina gloated, brushing the flat edge of her knife across her nipple, getting it hard with the smooth cool metal and making Aki squeal and blush. She grabbed one of her teats roughly, squeezing and molding it like her stress ball while the restof the mercs joined in on the mockery.

"Check her out, girls! She's about as stacked as the little girls here!"

"Wait! I think she's even smaller! Strip another of the girls and mash em together, and let's find out!"

"Fuck, are you sure you're a teacher? Not just some student with a fake ID or something?"

"I'd believe she's really a man in disguise, with tiny tits like that! Or is that from the steroids you took to get to be not TOTALLY pathetic?"

Selina didn’t bother with her knives for her shorts, grabbing them and pulling hard until they tore clean off the teacher, leaving her just in her clean white panties. Soon those were stolen as well, torn to unusable ribbons and then grabbing Aki’s jaw to stuff them into her mouth. “See?” Selina grinned at her brightly. “This is what happens if we don’t cooperate.”

Allison turned to face the girls while the rest of the mercs toyed with Aki further. “Hope we all learned a real valuable lesson here, little ladies. First of all, no running from us. We’ve chased fugitives and other pussies like that across borders, so no point in that. Second, we’re not leavin’ til we find some of that treasure we keep hearing about. Three, we’ve got a lot of really armed, really BORED girls back there, ready to get off to just about anything we can find to distract em.”

The schoolgirls fussed and whispered desperately a bit, but made no further action. Al saw them as just about ready to cooperate.  Selina shoved Ami into a pack of mercs, starting to grope and drag her down as she thrashed against them.

“No please, don’t!” yelped one of the students. “We’ll take you there! We’ll show you all we know! Just don’t hurt Aki-sensei anymore!”

“Finally!” Al sighed, throwing up her arms and waving to the troops. They reluctantly backed off from the teacher, at least until the students proved cooperative.

"Well come on. We've got a hike to take, right?" Allison waved the girls towards the woods, leading them towards the mountain cave/temple in question. Selina came along and dragged the teacher behind her by the arm, weakly resisting but most of the fight banged out of her. If she got especially fussy, Selina gave her a sharp spank to her bare ass to humiliate her back into submission.

The girls led them to the cave, Al immediately dispatching a team inside. Not much was in there in terms of valuables, trinkets and vases and carvings here and there. After a half hour or so of searching and hearing fractured stories and myths on this place, Al was getting frustrated. The girls kept murmuring and whispering to consult eachother on stories about the place, but it was a small thing added in there that got her ticked off.

“It’s ok,” one of the girls whispered, just loud enough that Al could eavesdrop on it. “Big Sister will be here to save us. She won’t let us get into any real danger. She’ll chase these creeps away…”

At this, Al growled and rose up from her seat on a stone near the cave’s  entrance. “Look! I’m sick of you little shits wasting our time! You cunts waste time? We waste PEOPLE! I don’t care if I’ve gotta blow up every other little Jap in your dirt farm to make the last one talk, we ARE gonna find this treasure!”

The girls huddled together as Allison went on raving. “You think this is cute or something? Your big sis is gonna stop us? Ain’t nobody here who can do shit to us!” She swung the butt of her rifle, smashing a random vase to all but powder. “Sis gonna stop us from THAT? Where’s her big damn vengeance for that, huh?” She actually raised her weapon and shot up a row of old carvings in the wall. “Or is Gramma gonna come fuck us up for that? Or Baby Brother getting mad if we do this?” She kicked over a statue into a pedestal with another vase. “Well I’m pretty damn-!!”

Alison hesitated when she heard a dull thud from the direction of the wrecked artifact. She turned and found a scroll bound up tightly on the cave floor. Old, dusty... some markings she couldn't recognize on the outside, but an important look to them. Clearly a label of some sort, and if her luck was paying off, it meant "map."
"Finally, something worthwhile in this place. One of the girls back at camp should be able to translate this shit."
The schoolgirls fretted behind her as Allison signaled her girls to herd them and their teacher back out. "This should be all we need. Move out, get this scrap back to camp. Rest of you, keep at it, in case this cave's got any treasure of its own."
The girls, Al, and her goon squad left, the ten or so lower girls still at work half-heartedly searching and digging about the old temple. As they left the cave, the torches and lanturns inside suddenly went out, just behind her as she reached the mouth of the tunnel. It gave her pause, as did the dull thunk that came from inside the cave shortly after. There was a flash from a pistol going off, making her spin around to face the darkness inside. There were shouts of confusion inside, but nothing more discernible than a “Hey!” or “Who’s there?” before another smacking noise or a sound of breaking rock before silence.

The mercs inside seemed to give up on waiting and guessing, opening fire as a crackle of radio cued them to eachothers’ locations, still hitting nothing. Allison signalled her girls to stay put with the students, but sending in a pair of girls to move in and grab a pair of night vision goggles from some nearby equipment. They entered cautiously, the goggles lighting up the hall of the simple old temple to show a few of their girls unconscious on the ground, but no sign of an attacker or how they had been disposed of. As they went in deeper, though , they heard a whishing, like a frenzied wind, and the sound of steel on steel. Finally, their girls were fighting back.

They rushed ahead for backup, seeing a figure moving too quickly to keep a good look at between the goggles and its speed. What helped less still were the silvery flashes, light bouncing off something smooth, shiny, and fast. One quickly identified it as a sword, as wherever it went, the state of the art weapons the girls trying to fight the figure carried were quickly being demolished.  Strong steel, and very sharp, clearly. The two new girls sweat it out as the figure leapt out of sight a moment, only to land right on the ground in front of them. It leaned forward close to them, a cute Japanese girl’s face recognizable this close. Boobs wobbled on their motion detectors in a loose top around her almost unrealistically perky chest, classic ninja attire scantily covering her body. Classic might have been a strong word, since it really passed more for a sexy kunoichi ninja from some action or gag manga than anything genuinely stealthy. Loose revealing clothes, and fishnets just visible under her shorts.

“Hiya!” she chimed merrily, unphased by their aggressive appearance or heavy weaponry. “I’ve got a message for your boss, ‘kay?”

“We ain’t doing anything for you,” one of them grunted, but it was half-hearted at best, clearly shaken up to be so close to the girl who just shredded about a dozen armed girls from further distance than this and faster than they could react. Where were those other girls anyway…?

“Oh, you don’t have to actually say anything…” The ninja raised her katana and gave a few sharp, precise slashes…

Allison bit her lip outside the cave, watching the entrance. Either her girls would report back with a body, or she’d blast the attacker once she left. She got neither, wholly, as the majority of the squad came running and screaming from the cave. All of them were in panties, at most, more of them stripped nude by quick and clean katana strikes. Orders, duty, and treasure were suddenly a lot less important when you were naked in the woods without a change of panties anywhere nearby.

Al looked over the fleeing naked underlings and growled, but the schoolgirls had to giggle. “Take the girls back to camp! Put everyone on alert! Get our eyes open, people!” Her team started to scramble, some amused by their teammates’ fate but mostly starting to panic, and following orders felt like the next best thing to just fleeing the scene entirely at this point. Al shoved the schoolgirls at a troop to escort them back to camp. She left the teacher with a team to guard the cave exit and blast anything that moved to come out. She went off to set up her own attack and try to regroup her women before they resorted to panic and started spreading rumors about ninja  ghosts, based on what the recon team was shrieking about.

The mercs kept their weapons aimed at the temple entrance, hands shaking at the unknown threat inside. Seconds drew on with no noise at all from the cavern, doing little to help the soldiers' rattled nerves. "Psst," one of the girls in the rear hissed out quietly, only one of the mercs turning back to face her.

Katsumi smiled behind her, holding the rear goon around the neck tightly. She was slumping slightly in her grip, clearly choking silently in the sleeperhold. The noise, it seemed, was not what she'd intended to make. It was either a muffled shriek for attention, or simply a gurgling sound of the start of her collapse.

"Didja know there's a rear entrance to this place?"

The girls spun around, guns raised in panic but another quick flash of steel and their weapons were knocked aside or their chambers sliced clean off their firearms. Some gaping, all stunned, some even trying to fire their useless weapons, they were easy pickings for the perky ninjette.

"HYA!" Katsumi’s leg flew almost straight up, practically a cheerleading maneuver except that it cracked nimbly into one of the shorter mercs in the chin, hurled clean off her feet backward. An eyeful of the tidy white thong under the skirt of Katsumi’s ninja outfit startled them back into action, unprepared for melee combat so simply rushing her with a flurry of fists. The little ninja was already on the move, swishing between a pair of the girls and giving a double elbow backward. It struck their necks, hitting their nerves to numb them and drop them both in one shot. She caught the arm of the tall Spanish girl in front of her, cutting off her attack and leaving her wide open for a quick, precise punch to the throat, making her gag and crumble under the blow.

One managed to grab hold of her dark pony tail, the young ninja giving a yelp in surprise just before she swung her heel backward, a sharp shot going right into her groin. The assailant went down with a gurgling feminine groan, falling to her knees holding her groin comically. Katsumi took the position to swing her hips back, her toned little butt slamming into the merc’s face. Effectively knocking her out with a butt bump, Katsumi spun and whipped a high kick that smacked across the last two mercs’ faces, stunning them as they staggered away on their off footing. Katsumi leapt after them, flipping in the air before spreading her legs wide enough to rest one thigh on each girl’s shoulder, squeezing her legs together tightly to crack their heads together. She cartwheeled back off of them and dusted off her hands when she landed upright.

“Hi, coach! You okay?” she chimed, waving to Ami, the last woman standing at the entrance.

“I’m fine,” she asserted, plucking up some of the scrapped clothes that had fallen off the foreign troopers and forming a makeshift cover for her skin. “But the girls…”

Kitsumi nodded with a fearless smile. “No problem. They won’t know what hit ‘em. Just get out of sight and I’ll get everyone out of this okay.”

Ami smiled a bit weakly at her. “Your grandfather really teach you that well?”

“He was the best,” Kitsumi smiled, doing a running leap and landing in the treetops, zipping off along the branches.

A pair of edgy mercs stood at the edge of the treeline, watching the path closely. It was the only clear way to walk down from the temple, and they had shotguns ready to open up on the path at the first movement, one further down than the other in case the first missed. The first of the girls watched tensely, wholly unaware that her teammate was already being incapacitated. Kitsumi hung upside down from the tree above her, arms hugging around her target’s head and smothering her silent in her firm, faintly sweaty tits. She struggled, but her arms were tangled up in Kitzumi’s hug and powerless, soon fading into blackness. Kitsumi slid up behind the further merc, barely catching Kitsumi’s movements in the corner of her eye. She spun to fire on the ninja, but as she leveled the big weapon, Kitsumi’s palm smacked into the bottom of the barrel, sending its muzzle flying up to smack its wielder in the face. She grunted and stumbled back into the tree, holding her nose and shouting. “Now, idiots! Now!”

An ambush within the ambush, a trio of girls leapt out from deeper in the trees. Kitsumi gasped, having miscalculated as the four girls dogpiled her. She stunned one with a boxing of her ears, but the biggest of them, a chalk white-haired brawny Russian, barged in and grabbed her around the body. Kitsumi pushed at the Russian’s thick arms, unable to grapple free before she lifted Kitsumi off her feet, effectively body slamming her into a nearby tree. The little Jap huffed as the wind was smashed right out of her, the Russian holding her up by her neck as the other two moved in, slamming a fist into her belly apiece.

She groaned as the Russian grinned maniacally at her, Kitsumi’s expression full of pain and frustration before she was able to stab her fingers into the Russian’s wrist. The nerve strike made her drop her, holding her arm as Kitsumi headbutted one girl, simultaneously lashing out her leg to kick the other in the chin. Both girls staggering, Kitsumi bobbed to one side to avoid the Russian’s punch, cracking the tree behind her and only further hurting her hand. Kitsumi grabbed one of the stunned girls by the hair, twisting it to send her spinning out of control to her other side, absorbing the next punch of the Russian with her own face in an unwilling sacrifice for the ninjette, dropping her like a rag doll and warning Kitsumi not to let the white-haired woman catch her again.

The Russian growled in frustration as Kitsumi grabbed the belt off one of the girls in a swift movement, the last two goons of The Russian taking swings at her themselves. She slid on her knees between them, quickly working to bind their wrists together with the belt. While they struggled in confusion to break out of it, Kitsumi banged their heads together and kicked them into a tree, arms tangling up in the branches and hanging like silly scarecrows.

The Russian’s pale skin was red with anger as she bull rushed Kitsumi again, but she was prepared for the move this time, with her back aching to remind her. She flipped upward before she reached her, grabbing a thick flexible branch and yanking it down after her. She angled it perfectly to slide down the Russian’s pants, suddenly yanked up off her feet in a what looked like a cruel trick of nature. The branch held her up by her panties in a wedgie, thrashing for balance or something to grab onto, but nothing in her reach. Most aggravatingly, not Kitsumi. “Going to kill you, little twerp…”

The ninja wandered nearby, free of any threats as she picked up one of the shotguns nearby. “You know… these things are kind of handy. Especially if I want to stay out of your reach…” The Russian went pale again as she aimed it at her.

“Wait… wait, you wouldn’t!” she blurted, shocked to find herself powerless. “You are nothing to us! The others, they will crush you!”

“We’ll see. And you’re right. You’re just so cute when you’re scared, I wanted to see it again.” The Russian just had enough time to straighten her expression before the butt of the gun hit her face, conking her out. She dusted off her hands and scoped out the area, making a head count of how many to come back and account for. One last one remained for her to find, however.

Selina grinned wickedly from her hiding spot in the deepest of the shrubs, near the cliff side of the mountain. Her bright tats and hair dye were tucked neatly behind the greenery to hide herself as she silently drew one of her beloved throwing knives (the ones with the “fuck you” painted on the handles). She took careful aim, having all the time she needed to line it up with Kitsumi’s heart and then let it fly.

The knife whizzed through the air, causing the ninja to lean back almost horizontally very suddenly. Selina grinned as it stopped when it reached chest level, only to be sorely disappointed when Izumi rose again. The throwing knife was wedged neatly between her tits, perky enough that the tension between them caught the blade harmlessly as it flew between her cleavage.

"Dropped this," she chimed, smiling at the surprised Tasha. She plucked it up in two fingers, whipping it back at the merc. She didn't have the time to dodge, allowing it to cut perfectly along her clothes. She rose from her cover with a yelp, clutching at her big boobs as they bounced eagerly out of her top, which was quite quickly removed from her person. She started to run but Kitsumi caught her by the hair, whipping her around and landing her belly over her knee. It took a bit of wind from her, but more concernedly, Kitsumi yanked down her pants.

“This is why we don’t play with knives!” she scolded as she started rapidly and viciously spanking the tough gal. She screamed in shock and pain, thrashing under her for a good two-dozen spanks before she was released. She ran as soon as she could, not bothering to pull up her pants. She also didn’t have time to wonder where her second knife went to, but found out anyway when Kitsumi took another knife she’d pickpocketed off of her, whipping it after her to get another shriek and then her pants and underwear dropping off of her.

“Tell your friends!” she called after her cutely, waving at the naked tattooed girl. “Ooh, that’s a dandy place for an Elmer Fudd…”

“Just got off the radio, Queenie!” one of the girls at the next outpost called over to her. They were positioned in a small clearing, easy access to the woods and roads in the area. Queenie was a tall, hot black beauty, toned all over and sporting a small but springy afro. A tank top left open a tight little canyon of cleavage, her rack partly lost to sheer muscle, but cutoff shorts left lots of leg and a gorgeously bulging ass to compensate.

“What’s shakin’, sister?” she asked, always one to try and bring back the 70’s for some reason. The girls had stopped asking.

“Lost another half dozen on the path,” the hench-wench reported worriedly. A few shrill cries of surprise and pain came from up the mountain, making her wince in the general direction of the lone scouts caught unprepared. “Maybe… a whole dozen…” Her big black boss did not look pleased to hear it, rather than afraid as the noises grew closer.

"That's it!" Queenie went over to one of the larger crates in her outpost, whipping off the top. It was big enough to hold a body, but what was inside technically only made them. She reached in with one hand and yanked out a full-fledged gattling gun, a muzzle wider than her face with multiple barrels. Her muscles bulged into action at heaving up the hefty weapon, the long string of bullets feeding out of one side trailing behind it. Even at its enormous weight, she hefted it into place with one arm before snatching it with the other. She stood readily with it, the other mercs momentarily mesmerized by her strength before turning their attention back to the woods.

They waited a few seconds until a snapping of a twig sounded behind them. Queenie turned, aimed and fired her hefty weapon before the others had raised their semis, opening fire with a practical cloud of metal. Trees blew apart and bushes shredded apart, any animals slow enough to linger cleared out quickly. The gun clicked to a stop after a solid thirty seconds, Queenie’s laughter only just audible when she had run out of ammunition. She grinned smugly at the wreckage, nothing able to live through that hail of bullets.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the clearing entirely, Kitsumi burst out of the woods, Queenie swinging her heavy weapon towards her. The bulky weapon wasn't easy to aim, especially close range, so she simply swung it like an awkwardly built club. Kitsumi twisted and spun around it, backhanding a fist to crack across her proud black jaw.

For all her strength in holding the weapon up, it turns out this did little for Queenie's endurance. She spun wildly on one foot, the weight of her weapon making her spin all the quicker as it pulled her along. She did a full rotation before collapsing on the ground from one punch. The other girls watched stunned as Kitsumi turned to face them, grinning proudly and giving a motion for them to come and get her, playing off their fear and panic once again.

This batch was slightly more seasoned, Queenie being a bit more selective and elitist about her company. Only the tougher of the girls were worth her attention, and so her comrades would not be so easily shaken up.

"What? That all you've got?" one of the mercs jabbed at her, relaxing the aim of her gun. This close a range, they'd be better off with their fists anyway, especially with her talent for misdirection and how fast she had been moving so far.

"I've got plenty more," Kitsumi smiled brightly at them, adding a wink. "Wanna come see where I'm hiding it?"

"Yea, right. We're not takin' no shit from some bimbo ninja wannabe!"

"Bimbo?!" Kitsumi frowned, leaning forward with her hands on her hips to make her boobies bounce. "Wannabe? I'm the real deal, missy!"

"Well you look fake as your tits, sister," the merc sneered back, looking to her comrades for some supportive laughter.

Kitsumi blushed and pouted angrily before leaping for them, a blaze of speed fueled by anger as she launched a drop kick straight into the chesty merc taunting her. She huffed and went tumbling head over heels for several dozen yards, head bouncing off the ground and her tits with two bare footprints on them in bright red, and they looked like they would never stop jiggling.

While Kitsumi got her revenge in, the six other mercs around her suddenly had her ripe for the picking. One slammed her big boot onto Kitsumi’s stomach, holding her down for the others to rain stomps down on her. She covered up and shrieked frantically, slapping away what blows she could but taking far more boots than she wished.

“Ha! Not so big now, you little twat!”

“Strip her down! Let’ s see how this puny cunt fights naked!”

“Screw that, I just want a peak at those tits. Lookit em!”

“Lookit THIS!” Kitsumi snapped back, whipping her hand suddenly to toss a fine handful of dirt into their eyes. The small cloud blocked their vision if the literal dirt in the eyes didn’t, the girls shouting in surprise. Kitsumi slammed two heels right up into the groins of two of the girls, doubling them up so she could spring herself to her feet with her hands. She bounced off one of their backs, delivering an elbow drop to the other’s neck and dropping her down flat.

Two more mercs stumbled after her blindly, only to bump into eachother. They couldn’t have seen it coming when Kitsumi threw herself into them, spinning like a top at close range with her arms tucked in. They got their wish of testing her tits, as the firm jugs smacked them each in the face twice, toppling them into a powerless pile together.

Two of the better off girls grabbed her arms from behind, pulling her back from her attack. “Hey! Leggo!” Kitsumi whined, but they grabbed at her legs next. They hoisted her up, moving her towards a fence post with her legs spread, clearly intent on crotch-busting her right on top of it. Kitsumi cringed at just the idea, protecting her baby-maker by shoving one of the girls’ heads forward, slamming into the post first and losing her grip on her. Kitsumi got one leg on the ground, then spun like a drill in the last girl’s grip, smacking her clear across the face with a kick and tossing her into a tent that collapsed around her.

As she kept dealing with the mercs, a threesome more returned from their scouting job, shocked at the sight of most of the girls down, most of them injured. Kitsumi quickly noted Catalina, a Latina with a skull and crossbones bandana, one of the curviest bodies she’d ever seen (talking a figure 8 here), and probably more importantly, a big-ass flamethrower. Kitsumi recalculated her plan, but one of the girls she’d stunned with the cunt punt before grabbed her by the ankles, still crawling from the low blow.

“Cat! Smoke her!” she shouted out to her commander. Catalina’s eyes lit up and grinned wickedly, raising her weapon that sparked to life. Kitsumi wriggled her foot, but she had a death grip on her now. She instead quickly stomped on her fingers, getting loose enough to slide her sweaty foot out and flip backward, springboarding off her previous captor and flying out of the flamethrower’s range. It still caught the two mercs from the first wave, if just barely, making them scream and panic as they tore off their clothes to escape the ongoing fire.

“Shit, sit still. Don’t make me have to work for this,” Catalina growled, aiming a few more belches of fire from her weapon at Kitsumi, but missing the Japanese girl as she ran like a squirrel across the clearing. The other girls had no intention of getting in the way of her weapon after the other girls were charred nude and collapsed nearby, Kitsumi finally whipping something in her direction. Catalina torched it regardless, not thinking it might be a large homemade firecracker. It blew off in her face in a spray of wild blue and red sparks, hurting her eyes and dropping her weapon to rub the dancing lights out of them.

Kitsumi landing on the shoulders of the blinded pyro, balancing acrobatically and reaching down her shirt. She grabbed hold of her bra, leaning back like a bizarre upside down wedgie, pulling the bra up from her shirt and across her throat. With a bust line like Cat’s, this was no small feat, and no minor weapon. Cat gagged and her tongue lolled out, grabbing for the garment turned choking-hazard, but Kitsumi shoved her feet into her back, blacking her out with her own brassiere. She snapped it loose with one sharp tug, the other two henchwomen getting their sight back to see not just Queenie, but Cat already taken down without their noticing. Kitsumi grinned toothily at the, showing them the huge, hot pink trophy she’d ripped off Catalina’s chest, then throwing it to the ground between them like a dueling glove.

The girls were naturally wary, looking to eachother before slowly approaching from either side, Kitsumi staying still and letting them do just that. They lunged together, Kitsumi leaping up to do a perfect mid-air split and kick them both in the tits. Both stumbled back holding their chests, Kitsumi flipping one at random to the ground and somersaulting in the air, plopping her shapely butt onto her face and bonking her out on the ground. The other came after her with a vengeance, just turning and raising her legs to catch her belly, flinging her over her head like an accidental acrobat. The thug was unfortunate enough that her attack landed her groin-first on the fence post, cupping her groin and mouth hanging open, as it would for the next several minutes, even when she managed to drag herself off of it and into the dirt.

By then, Kitsumi had already rubbed her few new injuries and bolted off into the forest again.

The camp had a simple pair of mercs visible, keeping the girls in line but, to their own muted admittance, being insignificant should Kitsumi get through a force that thick. The girls were out in plain sight as well, open and innocent and excellent bait for Regina. Reggie was the team’s best sniper and sharpshooter by far, and perched up in her position higher up the mountain with her sights on the campground. She was rather thing, and had a short dark ponytail, suspenders over a formal blouse, and stood a few inches even over the brawny Russian with long legs rarely used for anything outside of the bedroom. Reggie let the other girls do the walking, running, and getting their shit kicked. She sat on the sidelines, waiting for the perfect shot in what she knew to be the perfect spot, pretty green eye glued to the scope.

“When you look that closely…” Reggie jumped in surprise, turning around to the voice. “It’s a lot harder to see what’s around you.” Kitsumi stood not 10 feet behind her, and she’d never heard a thing. Reggie was a sniper by preference, but she was great at it, and to that end she knew her big bulky rifle would be nothing at this range, even without seeing Cat and Queenie’s results.

“Take it easy there,” Regina urged her, holding her hands up with the rifle aimed harmlessly off in a random direction in one hand.  “I obviously can’t take you in a fair fight, girlie. This job ain’t worth my hide. You want the girls? Take em and I’ll leave here. Never see my lovely mug again.“

Kitsumi folded her arms huffily at her, eying her suspiciously. “Welllll… do you promise?”

Regina grinned. “Of course I promise.” Kitsumi nodded, letting the tall woman start to walk off. She only got a few paces when she ducked and grabbed for the long spear resting by her perch, swiping it for Kitsumi. “Dumbass Jap!” she sneered, using her long body and longer weapon to slice at Kitsumi to hide behind her reach. Kitsumi leapt back from it out of range, kicking the spearhead so it flew up out of control, leaving Regina’s grip and landing stuck deep in the stone nearby.

“Shit,” Regina cursed, leering at her weapon. She took a swing at Kitsumi, but her blow was clumsy and unprepared. Kitsumi caught her wrist, spinning her away and kicking hard into her back. She stumbled forward and hit her head on the stone wall of the cliff, holding her head before realizing she’d landed on something. She looked down to see her long legs managed to straddle the weapon she’d just lost, the spear’s shaft resting phallically between her thighs. It barely touched her, thankfully.

…until Kitsumi walked up behind her, kicking its end hard to make it quiver like a freshly fired arrow or, more accurately given Regina’s perspective, a vibrator. She went wide-eyed, mouth hanging open as Kitsumi walked away from her, grabbing at the weapon but even her weight unable to stop the shaking, shivering weakly on top of it. Her pants dampened thickly shortly after Kitsumi left, noisily orgasming over her weapon and collapsing into a heaving heap against the cold rock.

The two last patrols watched the camp edgily, not hearing back from most of the troops beyond the occasional echo of shouts from up the mountain. Kitsumi bounded over one of their heads from the treetops, landing noiselessly between them. She sprang up and lashed her legs around the redhead guard's neck, swinging her hips to drop her backward to the dirt. She clawed at Kitsumi's legs, but she twisted her thighs and squeezed them tight, pressing down on an artery to knock her out. Her brunette counterpart heard the struggles in time to turn and aim her pistol, but hestitated enough with caution about shooting her teammate or hostages. She decided to take her chances, but Kitsumi zipped towards her, zigzagging around her shots and slamming her with an elbow, making her stumble and sweeping her legs out from under her.

"Here. Found these." Kitsumi tossed the distressed and undressed schoolgirl an outfit she'd lifted off of one of the KO'ed hit women. It was baggy and a bit more risque than the other girls were wearing, but better than nothing, and she quickly slipped it on. The girls excitedly peppered her with questions, but she waved the girls towards the woods. "Later, later," she urged. "Your teacher's safe. Just get back to town for now. Hmm... 26, 27..." She counted off on the last two mercs, nodding to herself. "Excuse me a minute."

Kitsumi jumped up and did another midair split, leapfrogging the incoming rocket. and whipping it under her. Her skirt flared up from the exhaust of the projectile, but it flew beneath her and into the woods harmlessly enough, peppering a few of the closer schoolgirls with rubble. "Town, remember?" she reminded the girls, who listened and scrambled for the woods.

Allison drew her full auto machine gun, knowing enough on the girl's speed to not bother aiming too precisely and opting to spray and pray. It worked admirably, but Kitsumi kept ahead of her hail of bullets, watching where the barrel went just beforehand. She charged as she dodged and flipped around the shots, Allison throwing the weapon away quickly when it clicked empty and Kitsumi drew close. Allison drew one of her knives, slashing it once the Japanese girl was in range. Kitsumi bobbed her headback, the blade sharp and fast enough to slice some of the hair from her bangs.

She used the dodging position to lash her hand out, grabbing Al's wrist to stop the knife hand and using it to pull herself upward for a headbutt. What the Jap wasn't counting on was the significant height difference between a tall American mercenary and a young, spunky Japanese schoolgirl. Her head clashed successfully into Allison, but bouncing right into her hefty cleavage.

Al’s tits bounced wildly as she backed up holding her chest. “Watch it, bimbo,” she snapped at her, rubbing her chest. Kitsumi shook out her head, splashing some sweat away gathered between Al’s tits and her own exertion.

“It’s not my fault they’re so big I can’t miss em!”

“Compliments won’t get you out of your punishment, cunt,” Al snarled, raising her fists eagerly. “You’re gonna pay for all you did to my girls.”

“Okay, one,” Kitsumi frowned. “They’re all alive. Just naked and scared, or unconscious somewhere. Two, it wasn’t flattery. I don’t see how you can stand dragging around those big fat udders. Seriously, do they just drag in the dirt when you don’t have a bra on?

Allison, as mentioned, prided herself on her figure and making sure everyone saw how magnificent it was. This comment did not go well at all, the blond charging in a fury at her, fists drawn back. Kitsumi bobbed aside from the blow, going for a counter strike but Allison’s attacks relentless, keeping her dodging too much to mount much for an actual attack. She danced between a flurry of blows before lunging herself forward, grabbing both of Allison’s arms in her tight grip. Allison’s muscles quivered, but falling short of escaping her tight grasp. She tried moving her legs for a low kick, but Kitsumi wove her legs within hers and shoved her body forward, her breasts bumping into Allison’s just below her own, so that the underboob of Allison’s rested on top of her cleavage line, the heat from both of their chests mingling together.

“Ugh! Get your dirty little mosquito bites off my actual tits!” Al grunted, trying to twist free from the ninja’s complex stalemate.

“You’re just jealous,” Kitsumi huffed in the tight trapping hold.

“Jealous!? They’re tiny! I’ve got a dozen girls on this team with tits that could SWALLOW yours.”

“Yea, but they’re all so fatty and saggy. They don’t have perkiness, like mine.” Kitsumi  made her point by bouncing onto her tip toes for a moment, boobs bouncing almost obediently upward with her and plopping on top of Allison’s. She growled lowly at this mild offense, glaring into the Asian’s smiling eyes.

“You think your tits are so hot? Prove it!” Al gave a smaller shrug of her shoulders, bobbing her bigger breasts free and mashing right into Kitsumi’s. Their folds and ripples overwhelmed hers, as if indeed threatening to devour hers like a monsoon.

“Bring it,” Kitsumi huffed back, meeting her gaze fearlessly. One merc left, and she’d be dispatched in a titfight. The girls grunted and struggled, squirming close together as their tits grappled and battered eachother. Allison had a clear advantage early on, her tits not only bigger and heavier, but her height a major advantage. She had to lean down slightly to hit Kitsumi’s tits, while for every counter attack she made, Kitsumi had to lean or hop upward, exerting more energy.

Allison had a maniacal grin on her face before long, seeing Kitsumi breathing heavier and putting more grunts of effort into her tit thrusts. “Getttin’ tired there, ninja slut? Those tits keep bouncing, but can you?!” She reached up and grabbed her shoulder strap to her top, removing it to bare her huge boobs to her weakening foe, then grabbed the cleavage of Kitsumi’s and forced her to bare them herself, going flesh to flesh with the little assassin.

But that was, in fact, her advantage. Kitsumi’s boobs bounced off of hers, giving her recoil to ride off of, but also to absorb huge amounts of the impacts she took. The scrape of her nipples and titflesh pressed in her bouncy little boobies, just to spring back into place when they left. Al was soon sweating herself, while Kitsumi kept her pace.

“No fucking way,” Allison panicked in her mind at seeing this revealed to her. Both of their tits were covered in sweat, bruises, and abrasions, and Allison was failing to take this in stride as well as Kitsumi was.

“Way. Now get out of my village!” The little Asian leapt upward, slamming her tits in a full-body uppercut to Allison’s rack. The smack echoed across the valley, and smashed her tits up into her own face, toppling Allison over to the ground, stunned and her tits feeling flattened between the surprisingly hard Asian tits and her own face and jaw. The pain and shame was so overwhelming that she broke into tears, holding her throbbing tits in stunned misery.

Kitsumi rubbed at her chest a bit tenderly, turning away and checking to the small bruises and scratches developing on them. Allison was on the ground, rolling miserably in tears as she cradled her beaten breasts. Also, furious. She charged at Kitsumi while she was turned, not satisfied with humiliating the ninjette, but wanting her dead now. She grabbed Kitsumi’s short sword from her belt, pulling it back to skewer the girl on her own weapon (mainly since Kitsumi had rendered all of her own useless).

Kitsumi spun as her weapon was drawn, whirling to dodge the stab from Allison as she flipped over, landing on her hands and swinging her heel upward to smash into Allison’s cunt. She went wide-eyed, mouth wide open as Kitsumi flipped back up, swiping it right out of Allison’s hands. “Thanks. I was about to get that…” Allison was stunned at the sudden turn, and a few keen swipes of her blade left Allison utterly nude before her. She gaped and turned to flee, Kitsumi grinning and giving her a slap on the ass with the flat of her katana. “Go on! Scram!” she barked at her, making the blond just run faster with tears of shame in her eyes and a sizable bruise on her tits and groin.

It was about the time she reached the path that the rest of the mercenaries were fleeing, gathering up their unconscious or weakened girls enough to flee the mountain trail. Of course, that didn’t go so well, given one last detail. The wall of schoolgirls and a single angry teacher was on the only safe path down, and they were not looking pleased with the groggy, beaten up mercs, wincing at an unavoidable punishment ahead of them…

Valkeria stepped out of her limozine, lowering her shades to scout the town at the mountain’s base. She stood out insanely in the simple village, wearing a suit expensive enough to buy out the entire town and still show off some cleavage, high heels that she walked on comfortably enough even in the mountains, meticulously treated blond hair, and makeup to keep up the image of her perfection. Her husband was an international spy, so let him by the subtle one. She wanted to be seen and to be the most gorgeous thing in anything’s eye.

“Keep the car going,” she said briskly to her driver. “This shouldn’t be long.” She went up the mountainside, where the last signal from the girls’ equipment was traced. If they were going to be a waste of her money, she might as well see what had done them in, eliminate them out of principal, and then see if any last minute evidence could be found on the site as far as this legendary treasure was concerned.

The campsite was fairly tidy, as if the girls had just up and disappeared. It was not the case, of course. All the she-killers were tied up and gagged, out cold by the treeline of their camp. Asses up, faces in the dirt, drooling miserably. Valkeria shook her head at the pathetic sight of her hired hands. “I am going to have to speak with your manager, ladies,” she sighed. “Not even a sign of the…”

She peered over and spotted it. The scroll, wrapped up neatly in a thin tube and stuffed bitterly into Allison’s ass. Vakeria grinned at this, walking over more chipper. “Well, not a total loss then,” she grinned. “Just means I won’t have to pay you since I’M the one who found it,” she reported to no one in particular, plucking it out with a satisfying pop. She made sure she had her gloves on before handling the parchment, popping it out and unrolling it.

“Look up…” she read aloud, hesitating. She reached for the revolver in her pocket as she peered up, but Kitsumi was already on the branch above her, dropping down and leaving Valkeria’s last sight as one of her brightly colored panties.

Valkeria hit the ground on her back, arms tangled up by Kitsumi’s knees to keep her from reaching her gun.

“You listen up,” Kitsumi said sternly. Valkeria glared up at her, nose and mouth muffled in her muff but eyes clear enough to look at the schoolgirl ninja with fury. She freed one hand enough to sock her in the ribs, making her wince but Kitsumi staying strong and on top.

“You’re going to leave my village alone.” Valkeria’s other hand clawed at her thighs, leaving rough red scratches over them.

“And if I ever see you again, I have friends. And swords. Lots of swords.”

Another sucker punch made her wince, but she felt Valkeria’s breathing getting much heavier, suffocating quickly in her feminine musk and the dab of chloroform she’d applied between her thighs.

“And they’re not so kind as me. I’m just having fun with you all cuz I was bored. But now we know how you work, and you’ll never get your ugly American claws on the treasure of our people.”

Valkeria’s eyes started to roll a bit as her sunglasses fell away, Kitsumi seeing her job was almost done. She rose up enough for Valkeria to let out some rasping breaths, legs and side stinging from the American’s counter attacks but she was all but out now. Kitsumi knelt down by her head, Valkeria fearing a finshing blow but Kitsumi lifted her up onto her knee, belly resting on the joint. Kitsumi made some quick rips to tear the clothes off the boss bitch, leaving her in just her underwear before she started to spank her. Valkeria wasted her last conscious breaths screaming, losing count quickly and well before Kitsumi was done. She had, naturally, been very naughty.

“Slapping No Jutsu! The Millionth Spank!” Well that didn’t sound good.

It wasn’t. She wound up and hit her ass with such strength that she went flying, a good hundred feet away and at least as high into the air, flailing, screaming and crying before she saw a large stone coming at her. She put up her hands, but landed neatly in between the stones of a shrine gate, landing on her belly so that she blacked out, only to hang there for hours for people to see and mock her, shivering in her position long after she came to and was found begging for help getting down with no evidence of how she had gotten up there. After all, Kitsumi was really just a legend, something made up by local pervs to scare off all those crooks who thought there was actual treasure in these mountains.