The Thrilling Adventures of Sarah Steele

An old story from the Patreon that feels like it deserves a spot here. It feels like it takes heavily from the Zhang-Oh and Ashley's College stories. A pulp novel of a heroine who goes around punching nazis in WW2. I just put up another chapter on the Patreon as well if you like the first, and there's even some art done on there of her.
https://www.patreon.com/sandcastles/posts?tag=sarah%20steele

Sarah Steele was a model American with a model's figure. She was a tall blonde, nearly 6 feet and nearly 30 years old. Her big chest and childbearing hips implied a housewife or a bathing beauty of her era, but anyone who implied that to Sarah got a punch square in the nose. She was a soldier's daughter, which left her with her mother's good looks and her father's right hook. When some Nazi agents had tried to take her hostage at a party in 1943, she taught them just how much keister she could kick with just a cocktail dress and a pretty face. The American army was quick to toss aside their "dames in the military" policy to welcome above the talented and deadly blonde who foiled the Axis' spies and agents over and over.

Sarah was spending the day out among the troops. Not everyone knew of her secretive contributions to the warfront, so today it wasn't by shooting or punching out foreign foes. She was done up in a cocktail dress, entertaining the boys with her beautiful looks and voice like a walking motivational poster for patriotism and blonde knockouts. When she finally left the stage, Colonel Parks was there waiting for her with his thanks... and her next mission's briefing. It was business time.

The general walked her to her trailer, where Steele stepped behind a changing curtain to get out of her show clothes. The colonel's eye kept being drawn to her curvy silhouette as she wrapped a new bra around herself. "So what are the nazis up to this time, colonel?" she asked in her silky voice as she slid on her silky undergarments.

The gruff man scoffed. "And here I thought this was top secret."

"It's always the nazis," she said dismissively. "At least when you come to me it is."

"Well, you're not wrong. The krauts got themselves a new kind of tank. It's codenamed the Juggernaut Panzer, or 'Tiny,' because they want to be cute about it. Biggest thing on treads we've ever seen, and big enough to be nearly unstoppable. It's enough to hold up to a crew of fifty and it’s too heavily armored for any known artillery to take it down. The fuhrer's ready to deploy it on the Ruskies in mere hours."

The colonel tossed a folder with some blueprints and documents onto a nearby table. One naked arm lifted up one of the sheets and held it up while her outline’s other arm drew a cigar from a nearby end table and popped it into her lovely lips. The tank would have been dozens of feet high, practically a small mobile bunker rather than a tank.

"You say 'nearly.' So how do you stop it?" Sarah slid her eyepatch neatly over the glass eye she wore to some formal events such as this. It felt more natural with it on, reminding Steele of her blind spots and keeping her aware of her surroundings and weaknesses.

"Best we've figured? Drop every American bomb we've got on it, or get someone inside to pull the brakes. Assuming they can get through and take out all the guards and engineers along the way."

“Lot of hands on deck,” Steele noted casually. “And a lot of hands means a lot of guns.”

“Does that change anything?”

"Not really. One thing might, though: who's this?" Steele stepped back out from behind her curtain smoking her cigar and wearing stylish thick black pants, and a buttoned-up shirt that subtly challenged the tensile strength of the buttons. She pointed out a slightly chubby woman with a bob cut and thick coat ducking behind the tank in one of the recon photos.

"Martha Owens. American photographer with a tendency to go where she's not welcome. It's gotten us some good intel."

"So a spy?"

"Hardly. She's a reporter. Snoops around to cover the war. Quite a fan of your work, apparently."

Steele chuckled and tucked the photo back into her briefing folder. "She has good taste. Looks like my type. Maybe I'll find out if she tastes has as good herself."

Colonel Parks cleared his throat. Apart from her skill in close quarters combat, there was always the other thing the officers mentioned about Sarah Steele: she was as patriotic as an American flag waving in the breeze, but also about as straight as one, given her record for chasing skirts.

On that note... "There is one more thing you should know. Madam Tigerin is reported to be in command of the Juggernaut."

Steele froze for a moment, but her expression remained the same. "Thank you for saying so, Colonel. I'll keep that in mind." She promptly (even a bit too firmly) shoved some papers back into her briefing report and stood up. "I take it my plane's waiting for me?" Parks nodded. "And Jimmy's the one flying?"

"He was our first volunteer."

"Lovely." Sarah pulled on a pilot's jacket and a pair of boots. "Then let's go break the fuhrer's new toy before some of my fans get impatient and come a'knocking.”

Jimmy Forks was looney by most accounts, but knew his way around a plane, engine and all. As far as Sarah was concerned, it made him the perfect co-pilot for her trip. The Ruskies had cleared the airspace for them, so the German planes had been shot down to give them an easy way to reach the Juggernaut. Their two-man fighter plane launched from the shores and was shortly over the massive tank; a thick and clunky looking thing with multiple cannons and guns mounted around it. Were it not on land, it almost looked like a tiny battleship rather than a tank.

"You think you got this one, Sarah?!" Jimmy called from behind her. He was a scrawny guy for a military man, but every man was needed in the war efforts. In Sarah's case, the women were especially needed.

The buxom blonde freedom fighter laughed loudly, either especially or amused or because she had to if she was to be heard over the propellers. "Jimmy, you've seen me shoot down the ghost of the Red Baron. You picked me up after I sank the battleship of the treacherous Madam Long. You even saw me come out of Project Ragnarok by the skin of my teeth. What's a big ol' tank going to do to me that they can't?"

The sound of machine gun fire rang out from below as Jimmy jumped. Sarah kept her cool all the same. "Shoot at us?" Jimmy offered uncertainly.

"That's a very good point, Jimmy. You get this bird out of here." Sarah stood up and made sure her parachute was in place; it was certainly on, but she never liked how the default setting of the straps squashed her tits. They were neatly tucked underneath her bosom this way, pushing them up and out slightly. "I've got a date with an old enemy."

The one-eyed celebrity ran to the edge of the wing and leapt off, leaving Forks to take over and dodge around the gunfire. She glanced back to see his wild maneuvers shaking the gunners rather easily. Whoever they had working the anti-aircraft guns were practically amateurs. Content he was as safe as he could be over a heavily armed invincible tank, she released the camouflage gray parachute as late as she could to avoid their attention. She drifted down while drawing the heavy, old-fashioned handgun from her hip, but directed her landing so that right before she landed, she kicked one of the nazi guards across the jaw and sent him tumbling off into the snow beside the tank. She touched down on the dense metal, removing her chute and knocking on one of the port holes with the butt of her gun. Another soldier (female, she noted) poked her head out, just for Steele to shove the backpack of her parachute into her hands. "Hold this," Steele chirped before she pulled the cord to deploy the backup chute. At the speed they were going, it was enough to yank the surprised guard from the hole screaming as the wind flung her off behind the tank, crashing down a hundred yards or so back. Sarah granted herself a little giggle before dropping down inside the tank.

Inside the tank was a long metal hallway with pipes, valves, and various moving parts along the walls. Sarah scoured it briefly before determining the front of the vessel being the control room... which meant sweeping around first would be the safest bet, in her experience. Getting to the command center and blasting their leader was a blow to morale, but it also gave the enemy a nice, one-exit room for them to corner you in at full force. Better to keep that element of surprise while she could.

As far as Steele was concerned, things went pretty routinely for a while. Darting through the halls, she caught a pair of wandering guards off... well, offguard. She socked one in the jaw, which bounced his head off a pipe and even with the helmet, he dropped to the ground. The other went for his gun, but Sarah caught his reaching arm and kneed him in the groin. He doubled over with a winded grunt, letting Sarah bash the back of his head with the butt of her gun. "Sorry, boys! No autographs," she quipped.

A third soldier turned a corner, another blonde woman this time. It would have struck her as odd, but Steele knew that Madam Tigerin preferred a regiment of female guards. As the nazi raised her rifle, Steele aimed quicker and shot the weapon from her hands. The woman stared at her emptied hands for a moment before looking back at Steele, who shrugged with a playful smile. The female guard clenched her emptied hands into fists and charged at her, but Steele ran to meet her midway down the hall. Steele let the guard strike first, dodging around her punch and grabbing her by the wrist. Steele then spun the guard around to slam her chest against the wall, and while she was winded from that, the blonde American rammed her own breasts into the guard’s back to knock even more air from her, dropping her unconscious to the ground. The U.S. sure liked it when she brought some in alive; sometimes they’d talk, but mostly it made them look good in the press.

Most the tank made for a quick cleanup. A chokeout here, a skull into the walls there, a trick shot with her pistol way over there. It wasn’t even the full fifty that the briefing had implied, and there were less than a handful of casualties before she had most of the troops variously secured. She didn’t hear the gunfire outside the tank anymore, which she hoped was because they had stopped firing rather than because the damned machine was so loud about everything. She was only particularly surprised when she checked the engine room: a pair of mechanics quickly surrendered at gunpoint, but they weren’t the problem. As she cuffed them away from their controls, there came a snarl from further in the array of pipes and levers. “Don’t go back there,” the female mechanic warned, but Steele shushed her and readied her gun as she stepped further back into the room.

A few paces in and the a gurgling cry came from beside her. She whirled around and readied her gun, but the zombie’s head collided with the bars of its cage to fall short of her by several inches. Sarah frowned and gestured her gun at the gnashing, shriveled up corpse on legs. “Zombies. You nazis really are getting desperate, aren’t you? I’d say I thought better of you, but...”

“We only have the one. The scientists are working on-”

A quick shot rang out as Steele blew its head off. “Correction. You only have none. I’m sure the boys back home will be glad to have a nice long slumber party with you all, but I’ve got  a few more of you sneaky goose steppers left to clean up.” She took a deep breath, knowing well that those last few would be the most difficult of all.

Sarah Steele finally approached the command deck, according to the blueprints and the German signs she could still read. She sighed and braced herself again. The best of the guards and Madam Tigerin herself would be in there. They would know if their guards hadn’t reported in on time or if someone sounded an alarm, but otherwise they might not have noticed her intrusion. It was a longshot, but it should be her last stop on the Juggernaut before she could cripple the thing. Time to drop the stealth mode and go in loud.

Sarah booted the door open and immediately leveled her gun on the first target that caught her eye. Her shot caught one of the elite female guards in the arm and sent her to the floor, but the rest of the Nazis swarmed her. They grabbed the wrist of her gun arm, but Steele gave them every fist, foot and elbow she could. She lost track of just how many were wrestling with her before they brought her down to her knees.

One of the feminazis kicked Steele in the stomach, getting a grunt out of her before a woman's firm voice cut in.

"Well well! Look what the Americans brought to us! Such a pretty little package!" Sarah Steele's good eye glared up hatefully at the figure standing at the head of the room.

The command deck was wide, with a narrow plated window in the front to permit the driver and attendees to see. An elaborate set of dials and levers sat in front of said driver, who appeared to be a simple German soldier. There was a copilot's seat, but rather than the epitomous copilot, Martha Owens, the curvy reporter Steele had seen in the photos was tied up there. The elites around the room were indeed all women; Nazi uniforms and paraphernalia on them, but bright red emblems of tigers marked them as an even dozen of the direct underlings of Madam Tigerin.

The Madam herself was a white woman with hair as red as fresh fire tied into a fireball of a bun. She was in a German commander's coat, bearing broad shoulders and a pair of medals on her big breast. Some of those that survived her claimed that they had made her chest in a nazi mad science lab just so that she could hold many more medals in the future. She wore meticulously clean uniform, dotted with small details to show her as more than a standard officer in the ranks that only other officers and Sarah herself might notice. The uniform was so so precise that the high skirt, tall black boots, and snug top were exactly as long as they needed to cover everything distracting, but nothing more.

"Guten tag, Debra," Steele replied with a low, cold tone.

Madam Tigerin scoffed jovially. "You insist so on calling me by zat name. Zat little girl is no more, and only ze Madam Tigerin remains. Why must you alvays hold such a grudge? I only laid hands on your fiancee once."

"Long enough to brainwash her into trying to take me out."

"Then you still chase her geist, Sarah Steele," the woman grinned with evil glee. "How is Penny anyway?"

"Fine," Steele replied like a teenager trying to avoid talking to her parents. Tigerin had been being a sabotage program that Sarah had cut off, but not before she had kidnapped, tortured, and brainwashed Steele's childhood sweetheart and fiancee, Penny Lincoln, and turned her into a sleeper agent. It took all of Steele's skill and training to subdue Penny without killing her, and the boys at the lab that were containing her weren't reporting much progress in deprogramming her.

"Zat bad, eh? None can escape ze spell of ze Madam, after all. It is my genius that provides zis new era of revolutionary technology that revives the glory of Germany.”

"Funny how you'd use 'revolution' to describe your tyranny," Steele shot back, rolling her eye. "Listen. You know you're found out. Just put this thing in park, put on your blinker, and I'm sure you'll find yourself in a maximum security prison rather than under a few feet of topsoil. Maybe your list of war crimes will take them so long to read that you'll be able to spend the rest of your life there before they can try you."

Madam Tigerin laughed heartily, slapping a hand on her thigh as her ladies laughed along with her (the driver focuses responsibly on the road they were steadily running over). "Such a silly American! Did your woman take your common sense when she took your eye, or are you simply zat blind? I have a dozen of my top girls here; my uberfrau! Easily more than enough to bring you before the fuhrer himself, or dispose of you however I please."

"Well... you better check your math."

With one sharp pull of her arms and twist of her body, Steele sent the two guards holding her arms flying to the floor of the command center. They landed clumsily on their backs, surprised by the sudden outburst as Steele drove a fist into each of their chests. Their breasts wobbled in their tight uniforms as they let out a quick, choking cough, the wind and fight knocked out of them. “Ten,” Steele updated quickly as she threw herself into the rest of the elites.

Steele threw another punch at another guard, the German girl blocking it and slugging Steele in the stomach in return. They weren’t the pushovers she’d mowed through in the halls. Even if they didn't measure up to Steele one-on-one, they were at least somewhere on the ruler. Another guard grabbed Steele's arms from behind, struggling to contain her so her partner could come in for another shot. Sarah swung her head back to bang her skull off her captor's nose, stunning the female guard before shoulder tossing her clumsy body into her attacker.

"Nine," Steele counted off as the two crashed into each other, spinning around to bring a boot bashing across another's face as she tried to get the jump on her. "And eight! Suddenly your numbers aren't quite adding up, Deb."

Madam Tigerin growled angrily shoving one of her nearby elites. "Get her! Shoot her now! Just make sure zat the fuhrer can recognize her corpse!"

The guard looked at her in surprise. "But, Madam, the armor. If the shot ricochets..."

"That was an order! Not a question!"

The guard leveled her rifle, but a clear shot was nearly impossible with another seven guards trying to subdue her and blocking her view.

One of the bigger Nazis present lead a charge on Sarah, barreling towards her with two girls more behind her. Even ganging up on her, Steele was aware of her surroundings and not fighting against the momentum of an ambush. She caught the arm of the big one as she tried to bearhug Steele, throwing a quick fist into her face to knock her off balance. She pulled her arm and tripped her to the ground before lunging at the other two. They both threw punches at her, Steele catching one my the fist in her palm and the other pelting her in the chest. Sarah's chest bounced within her shirt, but she took it like a Barbie doll made of concrete. She twisted the arm of the first girl to bring her to her knees, just to grab the other by the neck and slam her head into the nearest console of dials and knobs. With both properly subdued for the moment, she grabbed each in a headlock and squeezed until both of her powerful arms and big breasts had a head squashed between them.

"There goes seven and six," Steele warned. The guards gagged and struggled, but couldn't escape Steele's iron grip. The big woman got up to her knees and snarled, trying to charge Sarah again but she briefly boosted herself up, suspended for a second on her two struggling captives to land a perfect kick to the big guard's jaw and topple her to the ground. "Make that five. Man, nobody can count today," Steele laughed. "That's strange, huh?"

She suddenly released her captives, the two Nazi guards dropping to the floor limply as Sarah dodged the sudden shot from the waiting guard's rifle. The noise rang through the room, the combatants disoriented but still fighting on as the bullet pinged off the armor wall and blew some sparks out of a piece of machinery. Steele shoulder-checked one of the startled guards, tackling her into the wall behind her and clocking her out with a hook to the jaw. Another of them caught Sarah's shoulder and spun her around, slugging her in the mouth as she turned.

"Bunch of bratwurst bitches are gonna start to make my makeup run if you keep hitting me like that," Steele snapped back before taking her uniform by the collar and headbutting the guard out. "Hope these three are your good ones, Tiger!"

Steele ducked behind another console to avoid another shot for her head. It was a close call, knocking a few strands of blonde loose behind her, but this time the bullet bounced around and hit the riflewoman in the leg. The guard went down with a yelp, wincing and holding her leg as another guard loomed over Steele with a baton swinging over her head. Steele ducked past her, and with one swift motion drew off her own empty gun belt. The guard turned to swing the club again, but Steele caught it with her tightly drawn belt and bounced it back. She whirled the weaponized garment and locked it around the guard's neck before pulling down hard, forcing her to fall back into the seat behind her. Steele gave it a quick tug to tighten it around her neck and the chair, able to dust off her hands and leave the woman to gag and struggle as she was essentially leashed to the seat.

The last guard standing rushed at her, Steele's own heavy pistol raised. The gun clicked as the guard couldn't figure out the complex safety that Steele had specially made for when others inevitably borrowed her gun. "Always the drama queens, you Nazis," Steele sighed, rolling her eye and stepping forward. The remaining guard tried to pistol whip her, but Steele caught her by the wrist and kicked her in the stomach. The guard grunted and doubled up from the shot to the breadbasket, Steele plucking her gun from her hand before driving her elbow down over her head. The guard slumped to the ground Steele pulling the belt from the last guard's neck to let her fall in a similar heap. Steele pulled her belt into a loop around her waist, sloppy but in a roguish kind of way that Sarah Steele owned and ran with. She leveled her gun at the final target in the room: Madam Tigerin.

The Nazi commander glared back at her, unintimidated as click came from near her feet. Steele looked down to see the wounded guard with the rifle aiming unsteadily at Sarah. "Put down your weapon," the guard panted.

"You're still fighting," Steele noted with an impressed raise of her eyebrow. "Not many can take a shot to the leg and stay fighting."

"Drop it or I shoot," the redheaded Nazi girl warned more firmly.

"I'll dodge," Steele excused quite casually, as if being shot was not something she wanted to discuss right now. "But you come a lot closer than most." Steele rubbed a few strands of her hair in her fingers, indicating the near hit from earlier. "You're a good shot. Bet you're a good shot even with the bum leg. You need that fixed?"

The elite blinked at her quizzically. "Wilma!" Tigerin snapped at her. "Shoot her!"

"We're real keen on defectors in The States," Steele offered. "One who worked with their top scientists, can take a few shots, and still shoot like a pro? They'd be fighting over you too much to care what you've done here."

"Wilma!!" But the guard was clearly listening as Steele grinned at her, even with a light bruise here and there on her pretty face.

"You set it down, we patch you up, and we lead the psycho out here and I tell them how cooperative you were back at command.

"Wilma, I swear on the fuhrer's glory that if you do not-!"

The elite complied and tossed her rifle out of reach, holding up her hands. Good. Steele thought she was awfully cute, for a Nazi who tried to shoot at her. Steele reached her free hand off to one side, opening a hatch and sliding Wilma a first aid kit that she gratefully got to using.

"That sure looks like zero to me," Steele said, nodding at Wilma while advancing on Madam Tigerin. "Time to stop the Juggernaut and put an end to you."

Tigerin looked briefly furious, but then her glare turned into a grin. She held up her hands helplessly. "Very well. I surrender. I cannot take the famous Sarah Steele in a head on fight, and you are similarly famous for taking prisoners. I accept your offer to come quietly."

"After you make me work for it and everything," Steele scoffed. "Make your man there stop this monster of yours."

Tigerin gave a curt order and the pilot started to slow down the truck as he messed with the complex controls. "Though I would have thought you would want me to come back alive as it was," the Madam mused, eying Steele coyly. "After all, who better would know how to undo what happened to your fiancee?"

Steele actually hesitated before she stepped down to the control area. She kept the gun leveled on her nemesis while starting to untie Martha. "You alright?" she muttered.

"I'm fine," the reporter replied brightly. "They just grabbed me and tied me up rather than slow their mission. If you hadn't... watch out!"

Steele reacted like lightning, expecting the double cross and catching Madam Tigerin's incoming hand by the wrist. It fell short of hitting the American heroine, but she opened her hand and blew a coppery red dust into her face. Steele screamed sharply as it burned her eyes and nose, staggering back and rubbing at her face. It was enough to bring a normal woman to her knees, while Steele was just temporarily blinded on her feet with the irritating burn keeping her eyes shut.

She heard Madam Tigerin's booming laugh echo off the insides of the tank. "I said I couldn't beat you in a head on fight," she gloated as she strode up to Steele. The blonde put up her fists bravely, getting her back to a wall, but Tigerin simply sidestepped and nailed her in the ribs with a high kick. "So I von't come at you head on."

Steele cried out as her side ate the hit, swinging blindly back at where she'd hoped that Tigerin would be. The German officer easily dodged around the concerningly close swing, punching Steele across the cheek. "And they say zat it is the Nazis who don't know when to stop fighting," she sneered, landing another hit to Steele's chin that made her bite her lip. A bit of blood ran from it, but Steele struck out and caught Madam Tigerin by the uniform. She looked shocked at the woman's speed and fighting instincts, the blonde pulling the top of her uniform over the villainess' head. She ironically found herself blinded by her own garment as Steele send wild and vicious swings pelting into her head and chest.

The screaming scientist finally yanked back hard enough to slip out of her top, just her tight black bra left above her waist. She tried to ignore Wilma and Martha's snickering behind her, the blushing driver keeping the tank going at reduced speed to maintain the ploy from earlier. "How did you...?!" Tigerin hissed before Steele interrupted her.

"Throw all your tricks in my eyes you want. You still stink to high heaven," the blonde bluffed.

Tigerin snarled with fury and went over to the driver, shoving sharply at the controls. Despite his protests, she leaned on it as The Juggernaut made a sharp turn, sending the unexpecting Steele tumbling to the steel floor and sliding in their direction. Tigerin cut her off by stomping on the blonde's big chest, getting a sharp cry of pain from Sarah as she drove her sharp heel down against her breasts.

"Your struggles are the flopping of a fish on the dock," Tigerin growled at her. Steele grabbed at her ankle to try to lift her off, but Tigerin pulled it free and booted her across the face to put her down again. "And your cries of pain are music to my ears. A shame I couldn't record them in my lab... like your fiancee’s."

Steele let out a wordless snarl and shifted to one side, throwing her heavy boot straight up into Madam Tigerin's cunt. The feminazi let out a husky grunt in reply, hands going between her legs with a look of shock and revulsion from the pain that pulsed in her pussy. Steele raised her boot again, this time kicking Tigerin in her chest. It left a dirty bootprint across her pale breasts, but also threw her back into the controls. The tank jerked back in the other direction, the winded Tigerin sent tumbling along the floor with Steele sliding right behind her. She didn't need to see where to go if they were all sliding the same direction. The driver tried to straighten out the vehicle again to save his boss, but Martha leaned over in her bound position and kicked him in the hand whenever he got close to the controls.

The mad scientist hit the far wall with a wince, propped against it when Steele slammed into her bodily. She straddled the Nazi mad scientist and sent one fist after another into her face. The German cowered behind her hands at first, but the power behind the blonde's blows kept knocking their way past them. Seeing that she was trapped and outmatched, even against the blinded agent, Tigerin managed to shove Steele off of her and crawl away on all fours. Steele heard her fumbling and caught her by the ankle, dragging her back over and her big breasts making comical squeaking noises as she was dragged along the floor.

"You're not going anywhere," Steele said with a slightly mad grin that made even the Nazi shudder. Sarah Steele was not only a dangerous woman in her own right, but she was a direct victim of some of Madam Tigerin's experiments. She was her own evils coming back to haunt her.

With a terrified scream, Tigerin slipped out of her boot and dove for the other side of the room. Not bothering with the door, she popped open a secret compartment and slid down the escape hatch. Anything to get away from the furious Steele's wrath.

"She is gone," Wilma reported for the blinded Steele's sake.

Steele nodded with a small frown. "Yea. Sounds like her. The escape hatch, right?"

"How did...?"

"Really good memory. And I saw the blueprints before coming." She touched the nearest wall and felt her way back towards the others. Martha had managed to wriggle out of her ropes by now, and handed a loose canteen of water to Sarah to help wash out her eyes at last. "Could you ladies radio in that I need a pick up for three..." She rubbed the water from her eyes, looking right at the engineer at the wheel. He hit a few switches, stopping the tank in its tracks and holding up his hands. "Make it four. And a whole lot of knocked out and confused Nazis who are gonna be real eager to answer some questions."

"Should we go after her?" Wilma offered, nodding towards the trap door.

"What, Tiger? Nah," Steele smirked as she rubbed some blood from her nose. Looks like it would be some more coverup makeup before her next show. "The woman just drove into the middle of the Russian front and then jumped out with no shirt and one boot. She won't get far, and there's going to be a ton of troops to find her and hear her accent. Assuming she doesn't freeze her tits off first." She reached over to help Martha with the radio before going to finish patching up Wilma's self-inflicted leg wound.

The report came out great in the end. The ultimate result of the Nazi tank was a handful of men crushed or blown up before they dropped a huge stash of scrap metal off to the Russians. They were allies and all, but the colonel made sure that Steele removed a few key parts to cripple The Juggernaut where it was. Martha's report from behind German lines proved valuable and got the army to act fast on the intel. Wilma spilled her guts and after some fact checking and healing, she was welcomed in as a very capable sniper for the Allies. Madam Tigerin was, in fact, found and captured in a nearby Russian village, half frost-bitten and having to swallow her pride and go to them to avoid freezing to death.

Steele got a bit of rest while she was shipped back home. She had a little before her next show to heal and take a breather... and catch up with some people. She visited the little mental hospital in Oregon on the way home, given clearance to visit the underground facility: the experimental one dedicated to finding cures and saving victims of the Nazi super weapons. Steele was allowed into the secured room with the glass in between it, dressed up for the occasion as she sighed and braced herself.

A woman was walked in carefully by an orderly and sat in a chair on the other side of the glass. The copper-headed woman looked around wearily, her body and hospital gown showing a kind of imperfect sterility of someone who was cleaned by someone else.

"Hello, Penny," Steele said evenly into the microphone.

"Hello, Sarah," she replied. It got the blonde to smile softly, progress from 'American' like she'd used just a month ago.

"What do you remember, Penny?"

The redhead shook her head a bit dizzily. "Not much..." She had been brainwashed to attack President Roosevelt, and when Steele had stopped her, Penny had stabbed out her fiance's eye. So there were still some gaps...

"I just remember that I think I owe you an apology."

Steele smiled and slid her hand through the small hole in the bottom of the glass. Penny gave a shaky grin, but slid a weary hand through to hold it. "Close enough."

Ashley's World War II Adventure

so remember the Ashley stories going around? The ones of the college girl beating up her bullies? Well the commissioner put in a request where they're factory workers during World War II where they stop nazi spies based on the bullies. It was a weird, fun romp.

It was another day at the assembly line for the girls. It wasn't all bad, and besides, someone had to do it while the boys were all away overseas. World War II had changed things for a lot of people, and if getting jobs was all they had to do, Ashley, Kimmy and Samantha counted themselves as lucky.

The place had its benefits, to be sure. They were treated better than expected at the factory, and Sam had taken a liking to their foreman Brad. Brad had even offered the girls invitations to a party that was going on that night. He was a friend of a friend to the hostess Gabriella Stein, a fairly famous singer (famous enough that even Kimmy had heard of her on the radio) and occasional movie star from down South. It was a short show by Gabby and small band of backup singers in a "support our troops" sort of performance followed by a general cocktail party. Brad had been given some spare invitations to offer to his employees, and they'd been working hard in the relatively short time they'd been at the factory.

Sam was overwhelmed, but Ashley was quick to accept the three invites for her. They cleaned up for the night in their classiest dresses, meeting up in their cab and grinning over how good they looked.

"Wouldn't think we were a couple of factory workers, would you?" Ashley boasted meagerly. She's straightened her blonde hair to hang down her back over the open skin between her shoulderblades.

"Yea, real Cinderella stories," Kimmy giggled, lightly elbowing Samantha in the side. "As long as someone ends up with a prince." She'd pulled up her mild curls into stylish bun (even if it took the mousey girl some help from Sam to do so).

"He's a foreman at the same factory, not a prince," Sam insisted, but she still blushed. The curvy young woman filled out her bauge-colored dress nicely without looking too big.

"Sure, sure," Ashley complied, still smirking at her teased friend. "Just when you end up as Mrs. Foreman, don't forget to slide a few cushy promotions our way."

The girls giggled as their cab parked, quickly paying and making their way into the hall where the shindig was being held. They arrived with plenty of time to mingle, so Sam was quick to find Brad among the guests. They hit it off just as quickly as he got her a drink as Kim and Ashley found themselves a spot to hover near the snack table, chatting with random local celebrity types. Their main concern remained giving Sam her space to work while still giving her thumbs up or waves for encouragement when she glanced their way. She didn't have to do it very much, since Brad seemed very focused on her.

Their conversation had to come to a stop as Gabriella's show began. She was in an elaborate and glittery dress that showed a tasteful amount of skin (perhaps a bit much for the time) and hugged her shapely and perky bottom. She introduced her backup dancers (though not her band itself), going through Megan, Bunny, Kasey, Meredith, and Ali. Ashley scoffed at the overly made up and glitzy girls, They looked like they hadn't worked a day in their lives and gotten spoiled for it. Kimmy discretely ordered the scowling Ashley another cocktail.

The show was brief, and they started serving the heavier food as Gabriella and her group started to drift off into the crowd. Samantha appreciated the excuse to turn back to Brad, but they didn't go for long before the curvy lead singer approached them.

"Oh, Brad! You made it!" Gabriella gushed, drawing the young foreman into a welcoming hug. "So good to have you here to support us all."

Brad smiled politely and nodded, gesturing towards Sam. "Yea, a lot of the other management was busy with overtime, so I brought a few guests. This is Samantha."

"Oh, then you must work over at Brad's factory."

"Yea, me and some friends," Samantha nodded with a polite smile. She wanted to be just rude enough to suggest there wasn't much conversation here so she could get back to Brad.

"I had a hunch. You didn't seem like the college type,"

Sam's cheeks burned hot, but she glared back at the smiling singer.

"Oh, don't blush, dear. It make those chubby cheeks of yours stand out." Gabriella smiled as if she were being rather helpful. "And you could stand to skip the main course tonight, by the looks of it. Though that might just be the cheap dress making you look..."

Samantha wasn't what you'd consider your magazine model figure, but she had some very supportive family and friends. Gabriella might have expected her to clam up or run off crying, but Sam had grown up with a mother and father who had told her she was pretty however she looked.

She also had a brother who told her how to hit someone who gave her trouble. Samantha stepped up and shoved Gabriella sharply in the chest, the songstress' back hitting the nearest table with a clatter. "What the hell is your problem?" Sam snapped at her, Gabby staring at her in surprise as people around them muttered and turned from the racket.

Brad stepped in and carefully took Sam by the shoulder. She stood ready to throw down if Gabby made another move, but she saw the various people staring and played it off with a charming laugh. "Clumsy me," Gabby chimed. "Still getting used to these new shoes I suppose."

A few dismissive laughs came from the crowd before they went back to their conversations. Brad excused them and led Samantha off away from the crowd of guests. "Are you alright?" he asked carefully.

"Me? Oh, I'm fine!" Samantha huffed, still rather red. "I'm just not about to put up with that kind of talk to my face."

"It's not going to be a problem, is it?" Brad asked warily. He was ready to drive her home if it was going to become an incident, more for her sake than his. Samantha caught it in his words, not a threat but an offer. She sighed and shook her head, not wanting to ruin this classy night with him.

"No. I'll be fine. I'm just going to cool it with my friends a while, okay?"

Brad smiled and let her go, catching up with family or other locals while Sam went to report in with Kimmy and Ashley.

"Lucky she backed off," Ashley snorted, sipping another glass of champagne. "We had your back if she threw down."

"Just give me an excuse," Kimmy added, their smallest friend puffing up her modest chest and adjusting her dress. "I'd take her for you."

"Really, Kim, it's fine," Samantha sighed, picking a glass off another tray. "It's over with."

"Aww, and I'd been reading all these books about judo lately," Kimmy said with a mock-pout.

"Those are spy novels, Kimmy," Ashley corrected calmly.

Samantha chuckled and downed her glass in one go. "Well, I'm going to freshen up. Be right back." She excused herself to the ladies room, washing her hands and fixing her hair after the brief conflict. She was too caught up in her own look to notice who walked in and out of the bathroom.

"Careful you don't break the mirror, now," Gabriella teased as she walked up to the next sink over and washed up her hands. She didn't bother checking the mirror, as if she knew she still looked fabulous without even looking.

"I don't need your big mouth right now," Samantha replied dismissively. "I got friends waiting for me."

"Yes, I saw," Gabriella noted. "I didn't peg Brad for a chubby chaser."

Samantha gave a sigh, mostly to avoid growling instead. "I didn't mean him. I brought other friends with me."

"Oh, I can see why. Oldest trick in the book: bring a lot of girls uglier than you to look that much better." Sam took a deep breath, which seemed to confirm for her that you can only shoot steam out of your nose in a cartoon. "Really though, those two girls? Surprise the draft board didn't get them for looking like a bunch of flat-chested boys."

Sam slammed her hands down on the sink and turned to face her. "Okay, seriously? What is your deal!? If you're trying to say something, spit it out?"

Gabriella turned to her, the fake charming smile dropping to a sneer. "You want it straight? Stay away from Brad. He's an interesting fellow with a lot to offer us, and he doesn't need you weighing him down. And really, at your dress size..."

Sam was too mad to catch the use of "us." She was too busy bracing for that punch to Gabby's stomach anyway. The singer gave a big "OOOF!" and doubled over, surprised by the power in the hard-working girl's blow. She caught Gabby by the hair and pushed her back against the wall, flattening her eye-catching bottom out of shape.

“Ugh! You savage little creep!” Gabriella snarled, reaching out and clawing at Samantha’s face and arms but not doing any major damage.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish then!” Samantha snapped, throwing Gabby by her hair to the women’s room floor. She growled and clung to her purse that had landed on the floor in the tussle. Sam glared back at her, but Gabriella hauled herself back up and threw herself at her with an angry grunt. Sam's back slammed into the bathroom wall, but she caught Gabby in a headlock and banged a few knees into the singer's stomach while she was stuck there.

Samantha grunted from the blows, but she dug into her purse with one free hand. She let it drop, but her hand emerged while clutching a pair of brass knuckles. She was being absolutely schooled and humiliated by the bigger girl and she wasn't going to tolerate that for long. She slammed the metal weapon into Samantha's ribs, getting her to shout out in pain.

"Don't start what you can't finish, right?" Gabriella gloated, but the big girl caught her wrist as she pulled back for another brass-lined punch. She kicked Gabby in the stomach hard enough to make her fall back and crash through the open door of the nearest stall. Gabriella landed clumsily by the toilet, realizing that Samantha had held onto her knucklers and tossed them into the trash.

"Now you're just asking for it," Samantha threatened, pulling Gabriella up into a sitting position by her hair and pelting her with punches and slaps. Gabby couldn't do anything but shriek and grunt as she failed to block the repeated hits, at least until her back up entered the room. Megan and Meredith grabbed Samantha by the arms and pulled her off. It seemed like they'd wanted to break up the fight at first, but Gabby gestured sharply towards Sam. Bunny took her cue and slugged Samantha in the stomach. Kasey took her by the hair and pulled it backward, getting out a scream of pain from her. Ali, as one of the brighter of the bunch, stuck by the door and leaned on it to minimize any escaping noise and blocking would-be intruders.

"Wussy little bitch," Samantha growled, glaring at Gabriella just before Meredith punched her in the chest, briefly flattening her breast against her chest. Gabby pushed her fellow performers aside to slam a kick into Samantha's stomach making her jerk hard enough to fall out of the girl's grasp and drop to the floor.

"I'm not the one too proud to keep her mouth shut," Gabriella sneered down at her. "Get her, girls."

Samantha curled up as the girls proceeded to stomp and kick at her ribs and back. She tried to hold out for some kind of opening, but had no idea what that would be with these awful odds stacked against her at six on one.

Ali felt the door budge, followed by a knocking. "Occupied," she called back sweetly, snickering quietly and watching the beatdown. That apparently didn't sell, because a few seconds later, Ashley backed up and slammed her shoulder into the door. The force flung Ali away from the door and crashing into the trash can. The bin full of junk fell over on her as Kimmy and Ash broke their way in, quickly catching onto what was happening after the whole batch of backup singers went into the bathroom together when Sam had yet to come out.

"Going to the bathroom together?" Kimmy laughed sarcastically. "We're not going to make any progress if girls like you keep up the stereotypes."

"Pipe down, you little geek!" Bunny snapped. She turned to face the intruder, taking her eyes off Samantha right before Kimmy punched her in the nose. She wasn't the strongest person in the world, but the surprise and what she'd picked up from all those books made for a shockingly good wallop.

The singers all turned to deal with the interlopers, not quite realizing that Samantha was even tougher than she looked. She rose from her defensive ball to grab Megan by the ankle and trip her to the floor. She climbed on her back and took a handful of hair, knocking Megan silly with a quick thump of her forehead on the tile floor.

The bathroom broke into utter chaos as the entertainers were caught unsure which way to look. The accidental pincer maneuver made them easy pickings for Ashley and her friends, their hard work in the factory proving to be a much better workout than a song and dance routine every few nights.

Ashley dodged a wild slap from Meredith, grabbing her by the dress and using it as leverage to slug her in the stomach. Meredith doubled over holding her slender gut, but Kasey lashed out and grabbed Ashley by the hair. She let out a quick cry, but rather than panic and flail around like one of Gabby's girls might, Ash threw herself forward and shoulder tackled Kasey into the sink. She grunted and let go before Ashley shoved her back into Meredith, letting the two of them crash into a tangled mess on the bathroom floor.

Ali turned to face the smallest of the invading band, grabbing Kimmy in a bearhug from behind. "Not so fast, you little runt! Let the real women do their thing!"

"Unghh! Your thing involves dollar bills down your blouse! Lemee go!" Kimmy kicked and thrashed, not very strong herself but with a lot of fight in her. Ali struggled to keep her under wraps, succeeding for a while until her skull cracked into the dancer's chin. Ali's eyes crossed for a moment and she stumbled back, letting go by reflex as Kimmy spun around and kicked her in the stomach. It was enough to make her stagger back, bumping her head on one of the stall doors as she fell through. She landed perfectly on the toilet, by wild coincidence more than grace, and Kimmy stormed in after her to start bouncing her head off the walls of the stall.

Gabriella couldn't believe how bad this was going so quickly. She jumped over the downed Bunny and tried to make a break for the door, but Samantha grabbed at the back of her dress. "Where do you think you're going, dollface?" she demanded, pulling back on her flashy garment. Gabby tried to finish her escape, just to end up tearing her dress right off her body. She gasped and tried to cover up her skimpy underwear as the coworkers laughed at the humiliated star. Gabby growled and grew angry enough to overcome her shame, tackling Samantha off of Megan and the two tumbling across the floor. Ash and Kimmy approached carefully but quickly to assist, but Sam out-wrestled her quickly and caught her in a chicken wing hold.

She twisted Gabby's arm behind her back, forcing her up to the sink and turning on the faucet. She dunked Gabby's face under the hot water, getting her to wail miserably and spit out the water. Her makeup started to run instantly, and soaked her tits and bra.

"Get... get off of me!" she sputtered. "What are you doing!?"

"Maybe you should get a better look," Samantha snapped, holding her by the hair and arm and then mashing her face into the mirror. The solid glass held up fine, but her head bounced off with a dense thud and left a smear of makeup on the surface. Gabby was dazed from that alone, but when Sam turned and threw her through the door of one of the stalls, it crashed open and let her land head first on the toilet. With her curvy ass up in the air, her face in the toilet damp with sink water and wearing nothing but underwear and stained makeup, the girls had to pause and snicker at the scene.

"Wow, what even was that?" Kimmy laughed, her blood pumping and clearly looking a bit excited.

Samantha rubbed her tender side, but chuckled with her. "They just felt like being bitches. Don't worry about it."

Ashley nudged Samantha's elbow with her own. "I'm not worried, but I'm thinking... give me a hand with these two!"

The girls got to work before they cleaned themselves up and stepped out of the bathroom. Samantha went to the nearest served and tapped his shoulder. "Sorry, but I think someone left a mess in the ladies room. Could you have somebody check on that?"

Kimmy, meanwhile, had propped a garbage can in the doorway to hold it wide open. There was already a small crowd forming to laugh at the stars of the night. They were all left face down in the bathroom stalls, several of their faces on or in the toilet itself as they were knocked out cold with their asses in the air. Sam went for some quick words and goodbyes with Brad before heading back to her apartment with her friends.

"Good first date?" Ashley asked, flexing the fingers that had hit Kasey a bit.

"Great first date," Samantha grinned.

Of course, the times being what they were, the trio had work the next day. They were late to bed with their after-partying from all that excitement, but fortunately, they had the late shift for their following day. It was a bit of a pain to be the only ones on the floor at the time, but there was a bit of bonus pay to help out with  the lousy hours. It was just the three of them that night, but they were only running some basic assembly lines that didn’t take much real work. It came to their lunch break eventually, if you considered 2 am lunch time. The few working conveyer belts went off while they went to get their lunchboxes, not realizing right away what sort of surprise was happening.

Gabriella entered the building with her duplicate key she’d stolen from the management office. The rest of her girls followed, some with guns at the ready but not seeing anyone there. Gabbie motioned them forward as she growled out some orders in German. Gabbie and her crew had been German spies from the start, the international Nazi taking up her alias as the songstress to capitalize on her beauty and stage presence. It would not only give her the excuse to travel the world, but get her access to all manner of places with her seductive abilities. Charming access off of Brad had been the initial plan, but Samantha and her friends had put a stop to that rather quickly (seduction was hard when you’d just had your head in a toilet). Some basic cat burglary later that night had secured the key, and tonight it was all set. Some minimal efforts and the source of American supplies would be eliminated, striking a blow for the Nazi forces.

Ashley stepped out of the bathroom,seeing the armed Kasey through the window to the work floor. She stared for a moment before darting back around the corner, out of sight and back into the break room with the rest of the girls.

"Uh, girls?" she said in a hushed voice as Kimmy and Sam were packing up their lunch boxes. "We have a situation out there."

"Situation how?" Kimmy asked, but Ashley gestured her to quiet down. She stepped out of the doorway as she heard footsteps coming. Kasey opened the door, frowning and aiming her gun at their table.

"So it's you two. Get down on-" The sexy spy (even in her common street clothes they were using to blend in) was cut off when Ashley threw her weight into the door of the break room. It slammed into Kasey's shoulder and sent her gun skittering across the floor. Kasey fell to her knees clutching her arm, looking up just as Samantha stepped forward and swung her heavy metal lunchbox right into her face.

Kasey woke up naked and tied up with some old cables in the corner of the cafeteria, the three girls who had kicked her ass looming over her. It didn't take too much to shake the details out of her while she was helpless, naked, and surrounded by working girls looking for an excuse to take their frustrations out on her.

"Gabby's going to the control room," Kimmy reviewed while Ashley finished gagging and blindfolded the naked Kasey. "She'll be setting the explosives there, but she's going to take a while. If she really know what she's doing, she'll be careful with that kind of stuff, and she'll try to make sure all of them are long gone before the charges go off. The others are gonna be on lookout, though, making sure nobody's getting in or out."

"I'll get Gabriella," Samantha confirmed. "I beat her before I knew she was a nazi. It'll be even easier knowing she's a bigger bitch than I thought."

"We'll find the rest," Ashley said, patting Kimmy on the arm. "We know this place better than they do."

"What about the gun?" Samantha asked, nodding to the weapon carefully left on the ground. "I don't know how to use that thing."

"Me either. We're about as likely to hurt ourselves with it if we don't know what we're doing," Ashley agreed.

"I can use it." The two turned to look at Kimmy who smiled like she did whenever she had a bright idea. Ashley still wasn't sure how an egghead like her ended up a factory worker. "Really. I read books about it."

"That's kind of different than using it, Kim..." Samantha warned, but Kimmy walked over, picking it up and popping the ammo clip out of the pistol.

"Trust me. I got this."

With their plan laid out, the girls split up. Ash and Kim went one way while Sam took the shortcut to the main control room where they switched everything on and off for the day. Gabriella was there fiddling with a complicated-looking device that must have been the bomb, a large triggering remote on the desk beside her. Gabby (assuming that was even her real name) was caught up in her work and knew her girls were out on patrol, so she wasn't paying attention when Samantha grabbed and threw away the remote.

"What the...? You!?" Gabriella shouted, turning from her work on the bomb to face the American working girl. "You've got some nerve trying to get in my way again!"

"And you've got some nerve walking in on my job," Samantha smirked back. She didn't see any gun on Gabby. She'd decided that the bomb was more important, the curvy spy needing both hands to operate the explosive properly and no room for a holster on her subtle street clothes.

"How did you find me?" Gabriella demanded, stepping away from her sabotage to approach Samantha with slow, aggressive strides.

"I followed the trail of toilet water," Samantha smirked. "And don't think your little girl gang's going to be here to back you up this time."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," Gabby grinned knowingly. She must have thought she still had the element of surprise on her hand. The spy drew a knife from her belt and lunged for Samantha, but that was one of the first things Sam had learned to defend against. She caught her by the wrist, throwing off the aim of the precise weapon into going wide. She twisted and locked the arm under her armpit, Gabby having just enough time to grunt before Sam elbowed her in the face, making her stumble and clumsily dropping the weapon.

Samantha half-tossed, half-shoved Gabby away from her, letting her back hit one of the iron walls of the control room. The spy tried to wind up a punch of her own, but Sam grabbed her wrist and pinned it to the wall. While Gabby tried to free it, Sam was free to pelt her in the stomach with a gut-busting hook. The curvy spy gave a heavy grunt as the air was knocked out of her, but Samantha just hit her with a few more shots to the breadbasket.

The other two coworkers hurried along the catwalk that oversaw the assembly lines, spotting the movement of Bunny on the level below them. Ashley gestured towards her when Megan turned the corner ahead of them. Megan looked up, too surprised to shout but Ashley responding first. She socked the nazi in the face, sending her falling flat on the catwalk. Kimmy jumped on top of her and aimed the gun at her face, getting Megan to freeze and raise her hands in surrender. "Into the broom closet," Kimmy insisted, jerking her head at the nearby door. Kimmy stepped off slowly, but Megan kept her eyes wide and focused on the gun in fear... until she saw that the clip was out of the gun. It had no bullets at all.

"Hey!" she objected just before Kimmy saw the understanding in her eyes. She swung a backhand with the empty pistol, smacking Megan across the face with it and knocking her into a wall. Ashley caught her by the hair and banged her head off the railing, knocking her silly into a heap on the ground.

"Better move fast. Someone might have heard it," Ashley insisted. They stuffed Megan into the closet, letting Kimmy squeeze her little frame in with her to quickly tie her hands with her own top and gag her with an old cleaning rag.

While Kimmy was busy with that, Ashley had kept track of Bunny's steps. She started to come up the stairs to their level when Ashley rushed to intercept her. She kicked Bunny in the head with one of her booted legs. She didn't fall all the way down the steps, but her gun flew from her hands and down to the floor below. Bunny caught an arm on the railing, throwing a quick punch across Ashley's jaw. Her head bucked a bit, but didn't really budge her footing.

"Not a working girl, are you?" Ashley taunted before grabbing and pulling the spy's shirt over her head. She thrashed and flailed as her bra was exposed, trying to squirm out of her own top to see straight while Ashley drove a few knees into her stomach. She finally broke free, just for one more punch from Ashley to send her head snapping back and her body tumbling down the stairs into a heap.

Kimmy came back out of the broom closet, exchanging some thumbs up with Ashley.

"Hold it right there!" Ashley looked back to see herself quickly becoming surrounded. Ali was jogging down the lower level of the catwalk while Meredith was rushing along the one at the top of her stairs.

"Kimmy! You go low!" Ashley called, turning and rushing up towards Kimmy's current location.

The shorter worker nodded and ran for the guard rail, sliding her petite frame through the bars and violating a few safety codes. Especially when she landed right on top of Ali.

"Oww! Get off me, you little idiot!"

"Oh, sorry!" Kimmy actually did hop off of her and dust her pants off. "I sorta meant to jump down in front of you. Would have looked cooler that way. Maybe you shouldn't move so quick."

"Oh, I am going to especially enjoy destroying you," Ali growled, remembering the girl who had beat her up last time.

Ashley ran towards Meredith to intercept her. "No running on the platforms!" Ashley called mockingly to her. If the interrogation was right, she should be the last guard (assuming that Kimmy took out hers), so subtlety wasn't as important anymore. Meredith threw a wild punch at her head, but Ashley ducked under it and caught her with a quick uppercut. Meredith's teeth clacked together, rubbing her jaw as she threw another punch. Ashley blocked this one and kicked her in the belly this time, doubling Meredith over. They had gone through some basic combat training, but espionage and performing had been their group's focus so they wouldn't have to rely on actual fights.

Meredith wasn't entirely out of it, though, so she tackled Ashley around the waist. The thin blonde hit her back on the rails, but she jerked aside suddenly and slipped out of her grip. With no body in her way, Meredith found herself pushing her way over the edge of the catwalk. It was just a couple yards down to the next row, but she panicked and grabbed onto the railing. Her stomach leaned on the middle bar, leaving her in the perfect position for Ashley to sit on her back and smack her ass like a disobedient child. Meredith shrieked and kicked her feet helplessly until Ashley sat back up, giving one more smack to her butt to make her fall the rest of the way down, landing groaning and unconscious behind Ali.

Ali put up her fists and scowled at the shorter girl. "I know your tricks this time. I'm not losing to you twice."

"I could beat you up three times, if that would make you feel better," Kimmy offered with a smile.

Ali growled and charged for Kimmy, grabbing at each other's hair and shoulders. Ali shoved Kimmy's back against the railing, threatening to topple her over when Kimmy kicked her in the knee. The spy shouted in surprise and pain, letting Kimmy slide out of her grip and headbutt her in the chest. Ali staggered back clutching her breast. It left Kimmy enough room to grab the railing and balance enough to whip a roundhouse kick and nail Ali in the jaw. The spy/singer went spinning all the way around before she collapsed onto the catwalk.

"Woo! Power of reading!" Kimmy cheered to herself just before Meredith fell down next to Ali.

Samantha hurled Gabriella away from the wall and letting her crash into one of the low tables in the room. She crashed right through the flimsy thing, groaning and trying to push herself back up from her stomach. Samantha grabbed her by the legs, Gabby squirming as if fearing some kind of submission hold. All her crawling and wiggling made it easier for Sam to yank the stylish star's pants clean off.

"At least you krauts packed enough extra underwear for your trip to the US of A," Samantha taunted, smacking a hand on Gabby's pantied ass. Samantha angrily grabbed a coffee mug, blushing hard as she chucked it as Sam. She backed up but still took a light bruise to her arm as it flew off course. Gabby charged at her while she was distracted, but Samantha caught her arms again and twisted her around to face away from her. She yanked on Gabby's arms to bend them back, thrusting her breasts out and bashing her knee into the songstress' ass. She yelped as it hit her tailbone, bouncing her ass and chest as Samantha repeated the move several times over.

"Yaaah! You stupid American! My girls will come find me and shoot you so full of holes..." Gabby was about to continue her threat when a bell rang overhead and several sprinklers came on from the ceiling. "What... what's that for?"

Samantha smirked up at the shower of water that rained down on them. "It's the signal. It means the others took out your girls. So it's just you and me now." Samantha pulled up on Gabriella's underwear, wedgying it into the spy's impressive ass. She shrieked and flailed as Samantha even lifted her off her feet by it.

"Let me go! Let me goooo! Owww, my ass!" the saboteur whined pathetically.

"You asked for it!" Samantha lifted the wedgie up a bit higher, grabbed Gabby by her ass and shoved her back into the ground, letting her face and breasts bounce off the hard floor. Gabby was left laying there in the puddle, the water making her clothes stick to her skin. Especially the panties around her weakly wiggling ass.

The alarm attracted the police, and Brad was quick to arrive soon after. The heroic trio had their wet and stripped-down intruders (Kimmy was busy explaining to the officers that it was just to make sure they were unarmed).

"Way to go there, Samantha. You girls really did all this yourself?" Brad praised, getting a slight blush out of Sam.

"Yea, well they were nazi spies... just not GOOD spies," Samantha joked. The police were slapping the cuffs onto the girls, but when they undid Gabriella's ropes she made a run for it.

"Oh no you don't!" Sam barked and took off after her quicker than the police could react. She tackled the lead spy around the waist, dropping them both into the dirt beside the road. Gabriella tried to squirm free, shoving at Samantha's face. The bigger working girl just slugged her in the face, knocking her silly for a moment as she slumped into the grass. She moaned and rubbed her cheek but tried to bolt again. Samantha caught her by the hair, sitting on her back and smacking her ass. "You never learn, do you!?" she barked at her, letting her wet ass wobble for the amused and relieved group of Americans. She started to slap Gabby around the head and face, rattling her brains around enough for her to hang limply in her grip on her hair. Sam let go to let her face splat down into the mud.

It wasn't too long before local news heard about Samantha and the girls saving the factory. It went around as a patriotism piece farther and farther, until the girls ended up posing for a photo of them rolling up their sleeves in their work clothes for a "We can do it!" campaign poster.