I would like to share to you this story. I just hope I will personally know who created this story. Any Sexy babe vs. Hunky beefcakes site is not complete without the Katrina adventures.
It was after practice, and they were out behind the locker rooms by the pool. Scott and Chris were standing with beautiful Katrina. The well-muscled swimmers towered over her. They were wearing just their Speedo trunks, showing off their broad, tanned chests and shoulders. Katrina was wearing a skimpy bikini – not as appropriate as a one-piece for swim practice, but she didn’t care.
At first it looked like they were chatting amiably with her. They smiled; she smiled back. Then the conversation turned. It was in the guys’ body language – they started to hover menacingly toward her. They had a wicked look in their eyes, and they started to touch her. Katrina shoved them away and rebuffed their advances, but they didn’t stop. She backed up against the wall. Strangely, there was no fear in her eyes – she looked confident.
Scott and Chris had painted her into a corner, one on each side. The lust was bulging in their swim trunks. At that moment, in the blink of an eye, Katrina reached forward and grabbed them both by the balls. She squeezed with savage strength, crushing their nuts with fierce determination. Scott and Chris cried in agony, but there was no one else around to hear them.
Katrina continued to grip their packages, laughing with glee at their misfortune. She cried, “You guys are toast!” Their knees buckled at the same time, and they fell to a kneeling position. She followed them down, never releasing her hold. They clawed at their groins, clutching their attacker’s wrists, but their efforts were futile. The guys were surprised that this smaller girl could do this much damage to them. Even Katrina was surprised at her own strength; she wondered why the muscular guys couldn’t fight back. It was as if Katrina had some special power over them.
As she knelt there, Katrina started to twist the guys’ balls in a sickening, circular motion. They choked and gasped, their hunky bodies quivering in pain. Their dicks were standing at attention, and it looked like they were starting to shoot off some of their juice. They fell on their backs, writhing in tortured spasms as the attractive blonde girl in the bikini utterly defeated them.
Katrina tightened her death-grip on their family jewels, showing no mercy to her victims. She looked down and saw the warm, moist fluid spilling from their stiff cocks. Then, with one, clean motion, Katrina slammed the heels of her palms into each guy’s crotch. Their legs kicked in the air, and then fell back to earth with a thud. Their bodies ceased to move; they were out cold, unconscious and in shock.
Katrina stood up, brushed off her hands and knees, and looked down dispassionately at the two hunks she had just nearly castrated. “Men!” she spat with disgust and walked away.
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At the beach that weekend, Katrina was bodyboarding with her friends. She was having a good time, trying to forget the incident by the pool earlier in the week in which she’d come close to killing two of her classmates with her bare hands. ‘I don’t know what got into me,’ she kept saying to herself. ‘It was like I had superhuman strength!’
So Katrina tried to put it out of her mind and relax. She came back from the waves and, without toweling off, lay down on her beach towel to soak up the sun.
“I’m going to get something to eat,” her pretty friend Caitlyn announced. “Anyone want to go with me?”
“I’ll go,” Katrina said, feeling a bit hungry herself. The two girls got some cash from their wallets and walked across the sand toward the concession booths on the pier.
“That was really cool what you did to Scott and Chris last week,” Caitlyn said to Katrina. “You showed those guys who’s in charge.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Katrina said meekly. “I’ve been trying to forget about it, though. It felt weird. It felt almost TOO powerful.”
“I don’t think so,” Caitlyn disagreed. “So, you kicked their butts? No big deal.”
“That’s not it,” Katrina said. “Kicking their butts wasn’t what bothered me.”
“Then what bothered you?”
“Honestly?” Katrina hesitated. “I felt that . . . How do I put this? I felt that, if I’d really wanted to, I could’ve killed them.”
“No way!” Caitlyn laughed. “You mean, literally KILL them DEAD?”
“Yeah,” Katrina said, realizing her friend didn’t believe her. “I felt like, all I had to do was use a bit more strength, and I . . .”
Caitlyn guffawed. “You can’t kill a man just by hitting his balls, can you?”
“I never thought so, either,” Katrina said, laughing along with Caitlyn. “But they were just BULGING there in those Speedos, looking so VULNERABLE! All I had to do was twwwwiiiiiist, and they were at my mercy! And while I was twisting their balls, somehow I just KNEW it: I said to myself, ‘Katrina, you could kill them now if you want.’”
“Maybe,” Caitlyn said skeptically. “After all, you knocked them unconscious and sent them to the hospital.” She smiled at her friend. “Katrina, the Killer Babe!”
“Stop it!” Katrina blushed.
The two girls walked down the pier and bought greasy burgers and fries. As they stood there, they attracted a lot of attention from the guys. Both women looked stunning in their bikinis: Caitlyn wore a red number and Katrina a stringy black one. Their hair was still damp from swimming in the ocean, and their bodies glistened in the sun.
“Look how beautiful the ocean looks!” Caitlyn exclaimed, pointing beyond the pier. “Let’s walk around the side and take a look.”
Caitlyn and Katrina moved behind the concession stand and leaned against the railing of the pier, admiring the way the sun shimmered on the waves. As they stood there alone enjoying the ocean breeze, Katrina heard footsteps from behind. She turned and saw a young man standing behind Caitlyn. He was tall and had an imposing physique for someone his age. He seemed to brush up against Caitlyn, who tried to dodge his body. The man attempted another touch.
“Go away!” Caitlyn yelled at him. But the guy wasn’t discouraged.
“Hey, girls!” he said in a throaty voice. “Wanna take a look at this?” Katrina and Caitlyn tried to ignore him, so he moved around to the side. To their shock, the man was dipping his skimpy swim trunks, exposing his engorged dick. “Take a look at this baby!” the exhibitionist slobbered.
“Eww, get the fuck away, you pervert!” Caitlyn cried. “Let’s go!” Katrina turned to leave, but she looked back and saw Caitlyn wasn’t following her. The exhibitionist was holding her by the arm. “Let GO of me, asshole!” she said as she fought his grip.
“Who are you calling a pervert, bitch?” the man said, his eyes looking wild.
Katrina ran up to the man. “Let her go, or I’ll kick your ass!”
The man slapped his dick back into his swimsuit, forming a noticeable ridge. He let go of Caitlyn and went up to Katrina. “Is that a THREAT, little bitch?” His fists were clenched; this guy was ready to go ballistic. “Come on and show me what you got, then!” The man thumped his pectoral muscles like some kind of comic book caveman.
Katrina put her hands on her hips and stared into his eyes. Caitlyn waited to see what her friend was going to do; she thought about calling for help. But before she did, Katrina calmly stepped out of her flip-flops, took a solid stance, and – faster than the man’s eyes could track – hauled off with a kick to his groin. The shattering blow made him stagger a bit. He immediately came back at Katrina, running at her with his fists flying. Katrina blocked his jabs with her left hand and used her right hand to put a massive uppercut into the man’s abdomen. The man grunted – ‘ooomph!’ – upon impact. He started to double up, but Katrina didn’t relent. She wheeled back and gave him another ferocious blow in his well-defined six-pack. The pervert grabbed his belly and groaned. He looked like he wanted to puke; his face was turning pale. Then, with studied precision, Katrina leaned back and jabbed her leg straight into his already-busted gut. The kick was so hard it knocked him against the wall of the building. He crashed into it and froze, holding his hurt belly, trembling like a leaf. All his muscles seemed to be in spasm. Then two things happened simultaneously: blood began to trickle out the corner of the man’s mouth, and a noticeable wet spot spread out in his Speedo trunks. Still clutching his abs, the man toppled forward, face-planting onto the wooden planks of the pier.
Caitlyn stood with her hand over her mouth. Katrina was shocked, too. She knelt down by the prone man and rolled him onto his back. Little droplets of blood and semen stained the floor. The man’s eyes were rolled back into his head; he didn’t move.
“Is he . . . dead?” Caitlyn asked anxiously.
“I don’t know!” Katrina cried. “I think so!” She felt his wrist for a pulse. “I think I killed him!” Then, without thinking, Katrina put her arms under the man’s back and squatted. With an effortless heave, she lifted the much bigger man and carried him to the railing of the pier. Katrina tossed the pervert over the edge, watching him splash into the bluish-green turmoil below. She turned around and looked at Caitlyn, who was now even more horrified.
“You just dumped him into the ocean!” She was dumbstruck. “You just killed a man and dumped his body into the ocean!”
“I didn’t mean to kill him!” Katrina said. “He was threatening you! He tried to hit me! I just fought back; I didn’t think this would happen!”
Caitlyn walked to the railing and peered over the side into the waves. There was no sign of the lewd man. She paused together with Katrina, staring into the sea for a long time. Finally, Caitlyn spoke up. “Well . . . I guess it was self-defense. And,” she looked around, “nobody witnessed anything.” She smiled at Katrina. “You just got away with murder! Congratulations!”
Katrina wasn’t so sure it was something to celebrate. “What’s happening to me? How can I kill men with my bare hands?”
“You’re just one bad-ass chick,” Caitlyn said. “I envy you!”
The two girls walked down the pier toward the sand. The whole time, Katrina felt like someone was following them. She looked over her shoulder a couple of times and saw a woman walking a few paces behind them, but Katrina couldn’t tell if she was trying to follow her . . .
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Months later, Katrina celebrated with her friends on graduation night. By now she’d almost forgotten about the fight with Scott and Chris, as well as the pervert on the pier. Nothing in the interim had tempted her to use her lethal skills, and she was glad for it.
“I’m going to use the restroom, guys,” Katrina said to her friends. She went down the hallway and found the restroom. Katrina entered and looked at herself in the mirror. Unlike most 18-year-olds, she was happy with what she saw: a young, strong, athletic woman with disarming good looks. Feeling playful, she flexed a bicep. Looking at herself, she wondered what she’d done in life to become strong enough to beat up a grown man. She didn’t work out any harder than the other girls in her class. Her diet wasn’t special. Heck, she’d even dropped out of the one martial arts class she’d taken. ‘Why I am like this?’ she pondered in front of the bathroom mirror.
Just then the doors of the toilet stalls behind her burst open. Two large men leaped toward Katrina. She spun around and kicked at the guy on her right. The tall heel of her sandal pegged the man squarely in the groin. He keeled over and grabbed himself, whimpering. Katrina punched out the second man. With a loud ‘whack!’ her fist struck his chin. The man’s head snapped backwards. His eyes rolled back into his head as he crashed down to the tile floor, knocked out cold.
The first man was still trying to soothe his flattened nuts when Katrina grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. He made gagging sounds as she throttled him. “Who the fuck are you?” she demanded. “Tell me or I’ll kill you!”
“That’s enough, Katrina. You can put him down now.” Katrina swiveled her head and saw a woman calmly walking toward her – the same woman who was following her at the pier that day she killed the exhibitionist!
“I’m not putting him down until you tell me what’s going on,” Katrina said, still choking the life out of her victim. “Explain it to me or this guy’s a goner!”
“I’ll explain it to you all in good time, Katrina,” the woman said as she raised an odd-looking gun in her hand. “For now, I’m going to shoot you with this tranquilizer dart so that you’ll be easier to handle.” Thhoot! The woman fired the dart gun at Katrina.
“Owww!” Katrina yelped as the dart stuck her in the side. She immediately felt the effect of the sedative as it entered her bloodstream. She wasn’t able to hold the man any longer, and released her grip, dropping him onto the floor. Katrina swooned as consciousness began to fade.
“Don’t worry,” the woman said. “You’ll be fine. I just can’t have you beating up on my people, Katrina.” Before the woman finished her sentence, Katrina crumpled to the floor. The light faded . . . Her last memory was of the woman walking toward her . . .
. . . . Katrina awoke with her skin perspiring. She tried to raise her head, but it felt so heavy that she left it on the pillow. She then tried to move her arms, but they didn’t respond. Her legs were the same. Fighting off the hangover, Katrina finally raised her head and looked down at her body. She was strapped into a hospital bed!
“HELP!” she yelled in a dry voice. “Help me!”
The woman who’d fired the tranquilizer dart at Katrina ran to her side. “Good! You’re awake! You slept much longer than I thought you would. I used the standard dosage; maybe it just means that your physical condition is not as great as we thought it was. Oh, well – we’ll rectify that in your training.”
It was too much information to process for Katrina. “Where am I? Why do you have me tied down?”
“I can’t answer the first question because it’s a secret,” the woman said. “We have you tied down because we don’t want you to hurt yourself or run away or something dumb like that.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Laura. I’m going to be your mentor here.”
“Mentor? For what?”
“This is a lot for you to absorb so soon after waking up,” Laura said. “All you need to know is that we don’t mean to harm you at all. In fact, we think you’re a very special girl, Katrina, and we want the best for you.”
That sounded like something her mother would say, reminding Katrina of home. “Where’s my mother? Have you told her where I am?”
Laura looked at her sheepishly and said, “No, I’m afraid not. We can’t do that.”
“I don’t understand what you want! What do you want with me?” Katrina moaned.
“Since you seem to be alert and wanting more information,” Laura said, “I’ll tell you now. I work for an international organization known as the Global Security League, the GSL. Like-minded nations have developed it as a secret expeditionary force for covert paramilitary operations. We’re recruiting you to help us.”
“Me?” Katrina said. “But I’m just an eighteen-year-old girl!”
“Hardly,” Laura said, taking a seat next to Katrina’s bed. “You’re a very special young woman with unique talents that you’ve already started to discover. I know because I’ve seen them with my own eyes. Your classmates Scott and Chris? I watched you thrash them within an inch of their lives. And that man who was harassing you at the beach? I saw you kill him and toss him off the pier.”
“You were following me that day!”
“Yes, Katrina. The GSL has been following you for many years. Like I said – you’re very special.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have a hyperkinetic physiological condition known as Lesch’s Syndrome.”
“Is it a disease?” Katrina asked worriedly.
“Not at all,” Laura laughed. “I have it, too. It’s a very rare condition, happening only about once a decade on average, and only in women. No one can explain it. Some say it doesn’t exist. Others call it magic. Whatever it is, it endows a woman with incredible strength, speed, endurance, and flexibility. You’ve probably already noticed this yourself.”
Katrina was excited now. “Yes, I have! All my life, I knew I was different. I always thought that something must be wrong with me, so I tried to hide it. When I was little, the boys would tease me, and I always had to stop myself because I knew I could knock their heads off! Tell me more about it.”
“Well, it’s different in everyone. Some say they have a ‘sixth sense,’ an extrasensory perceptive ability that gives them deep insight into their surroundings. Some have exceptional vision and hearing. Others report the ability to feel a certain . . . ‘energy,’ for lack of a better term, that they can channel through their arms and legs. This energy can be used to lethal effect – it can kill an opponent when applied with proper force.”
“I have all of those!” Katrina said.
“That’s a good sign – it means you’re not one of the weak cases of Lesch’s Syndrome. The last woman we brought here several years ago didn’t meet our needs. You, however, look like you’re going to be a star. We just need to develop your innate abilities. It will take some time and training. It won’t be easy. But when you’re done here, you’ll be practically invincible. You’ll be a warrior. You’ll serve as an elite operative for us.”
Katrina was smart enough to know the implications of her gift. “Does that mean you’re not going to let me go home?”
“Not for some time,” Laura said gently. “I’m still here twenty-one years after they abducted me when I was your age.” Laura watched Katrina’s expression fall. “It won’t be so bad. We’ll give you opportunities to connect with your loved ones.”
“But I was supposed to go to college.”
“You’ll get a better education with us. And a better income, I might add.” Laura winked at her. “Let’s just say that I don’t have a problem buying anything I want.”
“My mom. My friends. I can’t leave them!” Tears started rolling down Katrina’s cheeks. She became defiant, squirming in the straps. “I won’t do it! Let me out of here right NOW!”
Laura said calmly, “Don’t forget, Katrina, that there were witnesses to the murder you committed on the pier. If you want to go home, you’ll face charges of homicide.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” By the serious look on Laura’s face, Katrina knew they would have her prosecuted. Katrina stopped struggling in her straps. The tears continued to fall. “That means I have no choice. I have to do what you want. I have to stay here, away from my family and friends!” She cried ruefully.
Laura moved in and wiped the tears away with a tissue. “I know. It’s a difficult life. But it’s a rewarding one. You’ll see. Trust me.”
Katrina looked into Laura’s eyes. Something told her that this woman was a friend. “Okay. I’ll do it.” She sniffled. “But what if I’m no good?”
“You’ll be the best there is. There is a long and honorable tradition of women warriors,” Laura said. “Some say that Joan of Arc was one of us. Who knows for sure? But we’re a rare breed, and women like us have a duty to share our gift with the world. I’ll be with you the whole way, guiding your development. Just relax for now, get healthy, and soon we’ll start your training.”
Her head was spinning, but Katrina somehow knew that this was her destiny. All her life she knew she was different, and now it was all unfolding before her eyes . . .
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Training was intense. From sunrise to sundown, Katrina learned to focus her inner strength. She took flexibility and gymnastics classes that taught her how to do triple back flips on a tightrope. She studied all kinds of martial arts, refining her fighting skills and reflexes. She jumped from three-story buildings and landed on her feet. She broke steel bars with her bare hands. She increased her running speed, breaking world records that could never be shared with the outside world. She practiced every conceivable physical sport and exercise time would allow, becoming proficient in all of them.
It didn’t stop with physical training. Katrina was tutored in standard academic topics like mathematics, natural sciences, and history. She also had a decent load of military strategy and tactics courses. After several months of mental and physical exertion, pushed to the brink of exhaustion, Katrina sat down to discuss her progress with Laura.
“You’re almost ready for your first assignment,” Laura told her.
“Almost?! What more could I possibly learn?” Katrina took a long drink of water.
“Oh, there’s a lot more you could learn,” Laura said. “But it’ll have to wait. We’re going to need you right away.”
“But you just said I wasn’t ready yet,” Katrina said.
“You’re not, but you’re close enough. We need your help and it can’t be delayed any longer. You’ll have to give it a shot before the completion of your training.”
Katrina was suddenly nervous after gaining confidence during her daily routine. “What do I have to do?”
Laura sat next to Katrina with a laptop. On the screen was a presentation with a lot of data and photos. “There’s a terrorist organization that we need you to take down.”
“An entire terrorist organization? All by myself?”
“Yes,” Laura said plainly. “We told you that you’d usually work alone.”
“I know,” Katrina said, “I guess I didn’t realize . . .”
Laura suddenly got stern with Katrina. “Look: this is your job. We’ve trained you well for it. You have physical abilities that no one can match. You have fighting skills beyond compare. You can do this. Now don’t start getting cold feet, do you hear me?”
Katrina nodded.
Laura continued with the presentation. “The group is called the Red Sword. They’re a bunch of lunatics who’ve built a small army on a tiny island in the southwestern Pacific Ocean. They’re heavily armed and looking for an excuse to fight somebody. We need you to stop them.”
“Why not just bomb the island?” Katrina asked.
“Silly,” Laura chastised her, “Your courses should’ve taught you better than that! The world powers can’t simply bomb an entire island without raising some eyebrows. Everything the GSL does has to be kept secret. Fortunately, small infiltration missions pass under the radar. That’s where you come in. You’re to find a way to get on the island. Once there, we want you to terminate all members of the Red Sword. Use stealth as much as possible. Be merciless.”
“How many members of the Red Sword are on the island?”
“We estimate about 200 on the island itself. There may be more of their operatives located in the countries surrounding the island. In fact,” Laura said as she handed Katrina a plane ticket, “you’re flying to the Philippines tomorrow. You’ll target the Red Sword members stationed there first, using them to get you to the island.”
“Piece of cake,” Katrina declared. “I’m ready.”
“Good,” Laura said. “As always, if something goes wrong, GSL will disavow all knowledge of you. Once the mission begins, you’re on your own. No commandos or reinforcements to back you up.”
“I know the rules,” Katrina said as she stood up to go to her quarters to catch some sleep before tomorrow’s flight.
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The Philippines was a bustling carnival to Katrina, who’d hardly traveled outside her hometown before. She checked into the hotel in the port city where she was to stage her attack on the Red Sword base. Katrina wandered around the town for a couple days, not recognizing anyone. Finally, on her third day of reconnaissance, Katrina spotted three men who matched the intelligence photographs. They were milling about on the docks, loading supplies into a fishing trawler. Katrina watched them sail out of the harbor a few hours later.
The next day, the three men returned in the fishing boat. Katrina waited for them to disembark and head out of sight. She snuck on board the fishing boat, concealing herself like a stowaway below deck. A little later the three men returned, again loading supplies onto the boat. Katrina hid until the boat was well on its way toward the island base of the Red Sword.
The three terrorists were all big men, muscle-bound and pretty full of themselves. They strutted around the boat like peacocks, showing off their bare chests and chiseled bodies by wearing no shirts. They wore meager excuses for swimsuits in a shameless display of their bulging manhood. In fact, Katrina had learned, all Red Sword members wore this uniform on their home island. It was part of their macho culture, apparently. It gave new meaning to the ‘sword’ part of their name.
Katrina quietly waited until one of the boatmen went below deck. He was looking through some of the cargo when Katrina leapt from her hiding place and grabbed the man by the throat. She spun him around and pressed his back against the wall, choking him so hard that he couldn’t call for help. Katrina looked down and saw that the man had become aroused by her attack – his tight trunks were filled with his erection. The man’s eyes were afraid – despite his best efforts, he couldn’t release Katrina’s hold on him. Katrina calmly set her mind to the task; she knew what she had to do. Balling up her fingers in a fist, she cranked back her right arm and let the guy have it . . . once . . . twice . . . three times, straight in his throbbing package. The man’s screams were stifled by her chokehold. His face screwed up in pain with each impact of the girl’s fist. On the third blow, Katrina had directed all her power into the hit. It killed the man instantly. He fell limp in the chokehold. Katrina looked at his swim trunks and saw that his cock had slipped over the top. It was squirting milk even though the man was already dead.
Katrina was mesmerized by the dead man in her grip – it was the first kill of her career as a covert operative. The initial reluctance she had about killing him gave way to a brief pang of guilt. From her training, she knew this would happen. But when she remembered that these men would kill her if they could, the guilt began to fade. At this point, it was war, and she had to fight for her survival. The guilt gave way to confidence in her abilities as a fighter. Strangely, her confidence was matched by an inkling of sexual arousal; she had a vague feeling of lust now that she’d killed this man with her bare hands. ‘What’s going on with me?’ she wondered. She would’ve held his body there longer, studying the way his wick was covered with cum, but she heard footsteps. She quickly hid the dead guard under a tarp, but she didn’t have time to hide.
The second terrorist stepped into the cabin carrying an AK47. When he saw Katrina there, leaning against a box, looking gorgeous in her yellow bikini, he just smiled. This guy was another behemoth. He had a hairless chest that displayed massive pecs and was a perfect V-shape. The man lowered his machine gun; this young, blonde woman couldn’t possibly be a threat.
Katrina smiled back at him and curled her index finger at him in a “come hither” gesture. He eagerly rushed forward, ready to eat Katrina for breakfast. As he stretched out his paws to take her, Katrina fired off a kick that pounded the man’s balls. He stumbled backwards while she jumped up and attacked. The man was howling in pain, grabbing his gonads, when Katrina started punching him in rapid succession in his abdomen. The man had a washboard stomach, but it couldn’t withstand the onslaught of Katrina’s superhuman fists. Whap-whap-whap-whap-whap! Katrina dealt swift death to the man. A trickle of blood oozed from his mouth as he tried to hold his gut and his nuts at the same time. The moment the blood appeared, Katrina noticed his shaft start spewing juice. He shot his load into his tight shorts as he died.
The pilot of the boat heard the fight below deck and was about to radio the base when Katrina emerged holding an AK47 on him. “Touch that radio and you’re shark bait.” The man didn’t speak English, but he got the picture. Katrina pointed at the small island on the horizon, then pointed to her chest, indicating that she wanted him to take her there. “Red Sword island,” was all she said to him, knowing that the brute might understand a few words. The man nodded and kept on a course for the island.
The boat nestled up to the dock. There were five men waiting there, all wearing the same red swim trunks and nothing else. Some of them were armed. Katrina took a deep breath and let the boat pilot dock the fishing boat. He went onto the deck and tossed a rope to the men on shore, while Katrina hid behind the opposite side of the cabin. She could hear the skipper say something to the other men; he sounded like he was warning them about Katrina. She climbed to the top of the cabin. From that height she could see the five men plus the skipper heatedly discussing the situation. ‘Here goes nothing,’ Katrina said to herself as she leapt from the fishing boat onto the dock below.
Katrina landed atop one of the armed men, knocking him down to the deck. While he was still lying prone, she quickly took his head in her hands and twisted, snapping his neck with a loud ‘crrrack!’ She took the dead man’s AK47 and aimed at the other two armed guards. Blam-blam-blam! She shot them in their bare chests, sending them flying off the dock and into the water where they floated like dead fish.
The other three men faced off with her. Katrina set down her machine gun and ran at them full bore, spinning through a double flip. She punched at one man and hit his jaw. He staggered around as Katrina kicked the second man in the chest. Katrina returned to the first man and grabbed his head, ramming it into the second man. The two clunked together, knocking them onto the wooden planks. Both men were specimens of physical strength, and they seemed to be confused by their inability to stop this female dynamo. One of them managed to get back on his feet, but as soon as he did, Katrina planted a roundhouse kick on his chin. He turned to jelly, his knees buckling. Right as the man was about to fall, Katrina sent a straight-leg kick into his groin, sending him flying ten feet through the air. The man hollered ‘AHHHH!’ as he soared, clutching himself. When his back slammed onto the dock, his whole body seemed to quiver. His legs kicked a few times, but all of a sudden he fell still. He was dead with both hands on his groin.
The second man got up and took a swing at Katrina. She deflected his arm and twisted it around, pinning it behind his back. With her free hand, she reached under and between the man’s legs, taking a firm hold of his pride and joy. The big stud couldn’t comprehend the pain that suddenly befell him – he shrieked like an animal. Katrina scrunched his balls between her fingers, using her magic death-power to annihilate the man. The man coughed and gurgled and his body shook in millions of tiny spasms. Death was quick: as Katrina gave him one, final squeeze, he gave up the ghost and crumpled in front of her. She kicked him aside and placed her hands on her hips as she stared down the last man – the boat captain.
The man had watched his burly buddies get whacked one by one by this girl, and he wanted no part of it. He turned tail and dove off the dock, splashing in the water as he tried to swim away. Katrina adjusted her bikini top and dove in after him. She easily caught up to him. She reached out and grabbed his swim trunks, tearing them and yanking them off. Next she placed her arms around his chest and her thighs around his midsection. They floated together like that, with Katrina on the man’s back. They splashed wildly in the water as the man tried to get away. Nothing could save him, though. Katrina squeezed with her powerful thighs, collapsing the man’s midsection under immense pressure. She kept the man’s face underwater so that he’d drown if he tried to breathe in. The man fought in her clutches, clawing and scratching. His lungs burned as Katrina wrung all the oxygen out of them. He finally had to draw a breath. When he did, all he got was a mouthful of seawater. He sucked it down and started gagging. Katrina kept him in the vise of her thighs, crushing him without mercy. Her feet were crossed at the ankles, dangling just about at the man’s crotch. She could feel his cock swelling even as he suffocated and drowned.
“How weird!” Katrina said as the long, stiff appendage tickled the arches of her bare feet. She’d had enough: she applied one, last, massive squeeze to the man’s ribcage, snuffing the life out of him. The boat skipper released a mouthful of bubbles as he exhaled. Down below, he also released a load of semen. Skipper was a dead bastard now. Katrina released her hold on him, and he sank into the seaweed.
She swam back to the dock and clambered topside. Back aboard the boat, she observed its cargo: food, medicine, ammunition, weapons, fuel, and household items. “About the only thing they don’t have is clothing,” she noticed. “I guess those swimsuits are all those guys need in this hot climate.”
Katrina gathered up her small backpack filled with equipment. It was going to be an extended mission, requiring several nights’ stay on the island. She would have to live in the shadows, hiding from the terrorists as she completed her deadly work.
Katrina rinsed off the salt water with fresh water and then dried herself with a beach towel. She hopped up and down on one foot, trying to dislodge the water in her ears. “I hate it when that happens!” She slipped off her damp yellow bikini and put on a new one. This one was a red-and-orange floral print outfit with a matching sarong skirt that went nicely with her smooth, tanned skin. She wrapped the sarong low around her tantalizing hips and clipped it in place. Katrina then reached into her backpack and pulled out a gold anklet with a small heart-shaped charm attached to it. “To remember my family and friends,” she said as she snapped it around her ankle. Finally, she was going to need some footwear as she hiked through the rocky and thorny jungle, so she slipped on a pair of ultra-hip, high-tech running shoes without socks. She tied her shoelaces and admired how good her long, lithe legs looked with nothing but that shiny anklet and those shoes on them. Katrina was ready to go: she left the fishing boat behind, heading for the thick forest just onshore.
As she made her campground that evening, Katrina recounted the day’s events in her mind. It had been a very successful start to the mission: she had already killed eight bad guys. She wasn’t entirely happy with her technique, but she knew she’d have a lot of practice very soon. “In fact,” she said, “I’m going to go hunting tonight for guard patrols. There should be plenty of them to wipe out in the dark!”
Katrina rested and drank some water; she would need to be hydrated for the night’s adventures . . .
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Katrina climbed into a tree and perched herself at a good vantage point over the trail. She could see two flashlights up ahead. The men talked to each other as they came closer. Katrina waited for the precise moment. When they were almost directly beneath her, she jumped down from the branch into their path.
The two stud-boys were startled by Katrina. They just about pissed in their Speedos.
“Hi, boys. Let’s play!” Katrina said. As the men reached for their AK47s, Katrina grabbed the guns by the barrels and flung them into the dense jungle. Disarmed, the two guys didn’t know what to do next. Katrina quickly kneed the man on the left in the crotch. He doubled up in pain. She then punched the guard on the right in the nose. His eyes crossed as he dropped to his knees.
Katrina shoved the guy on the left against a tree. He was helpless because he was still suffering from the crotch-bust. “What a nice belly you’ve got,” Katrina said to him. “Too bad I have to destroy it!” Like she was punching a punching bag, Katrina rattled the man in the bellybutton. He vibrated like he was in an earthquake. Katrina kept thumping his exposed belly, tenderizing him from the ribs down to the navel. She noticed his swim trunks swell with passion. “Funny time to get hard,” she said to him. “Well, I’m not gonna let you cum!” Katrina sent a powerful uppercut into the man’s tight belly, causing shockwaves throughout his body. The man’s arms flapped out at his sides – he was finished. He spat up blood and started to slide down the trunk of the tree. As he slid into the dirt, Katrina thought she saw a big wet spot form in his red trunks. “Huh! You came anyway!” She watched him twitch and kick the bucket right there.
The other man came from behind and grabbed Katrina’s neck. She flipped him over so that he was now supine on the jungle trail. As he tried to get up, Katrina jumped on top of his chest. She had him pinned now. The man tried to throw his weight, but it didn’t seem to do anything. “Nice try, but you can’t escape!” Katrina taunted him. The man wriggled underneath her. She stood on top of him in a victorious pose. “I bet you never thought you’d get whipped by a girl!” The man was a hearty young buck, but even his muscular frame was no match for Katrina’s strength. She slid one foot onto the man’s throat, pressing down on it with the sole of her shoe. She stretched out with her other leg and trampled his dick underfoot. Katrina stood like the Colossus of Rhodes, crushing the hapless man in two places. She shifted her weight from one side to the other, first stomping hard on his prick, then digging into his windpipe. The alternating trample was too much for him. His hands clutched her ankles as he tried to move her from that deadly stance. After a few minutes like this, Katrina could feel the young stud start to lose it. His body shuddered and writhed as he entered the throes of death. He was strangled at one end, dying of asphyxiation; at the other end, he was getting killed by the vicious dick-trampling. Either one alone would’ve been enough to kill him. With a last, mighty jerk, the man jacked his cum-wad onto his bare belly and simultaneously kicked off. Katrina stepped down from her victim, who looked dead but happy. “Two more down!”
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The next night another patrol headed for Katrina’s hiding place. They had beefed up the patrols after finding all the corpses littering the island. Four brawny bullies in tight swimsuits marched down the trail. When the time was right, Katrina ambushed them.
“YAH!” she yelled as she leapt from the bushes and placed a flying kick in the first man’s chest. He tumbled and rolled. Katrina didn’t waste time; she fell on him and plunged her fist straight into his gut. The man grunted like he’d been tackled by a linebacker. Immediately the man coughed up blood – he was history, killed by a single blow.
The other guards fired their machine guns, but Katrina was too quick and they missed her. She sprinted off the trail and into the dense foliage. The three men pursued her. They passed right by Katrina without spotting her crouching in the plants. Katrina popped out from behind and grabbed two guards’ heads. She bonked them together, knocking them out. The first guard turned to shoot, but Katrina kicked his gun away. The man stood there without a clue. “What now?” Katrina teased him. As the man turned to run, she slid in the dirt and wrapped her legs around his. With a twist of her body, she dropped him. The man screamed and begged for his life, but Katrina didn’t let him continue. She covered his mouth with one hand and, with the other hand, jabbed his meaty package. The man spurted his seed into his red swim trunks just as the lethal punch obliterated him. He convulsed like a whirling dervish, kicking up fallen leaves until he no longer moved.
Katrina returned to the two men whom she’d just knocked out. They were a little groggy and still lying on their backs with their heads touching. Without hesitation Katrina jumped on one man and wrapped his throat between her thighs. She began to press her legs together with all her might, choking the stud-boy. He made a lot of sounds like ‘erk’ and ‘ack’ as he faced the fact that this was the end of the line for him. Meanwhile, the other man looked like he was regaining consciousness, too. Katrina first kicked off her running shoes. Then she placed the soles of her bare feet against the other man’s neck, pinching it. Katrina had two bad guys now right where she wanted them: she was thigh-choking the first one and foot-choking the second one. The two hunks battled vainly under her pressure. Katrina just giggled and enjoyed their struggles – she was beginning to have fun killing these guys! They lingered for a few more minutes before they started to lose everything. “Oh, here they come!” she giddily announced to the night air as the dying men both reached down for their swimsuits. They started to whack themselves silly, pumping and thrusting as much as they could. The one that was getting foot-strangled came almost immediately. His one-eyed monster shot out blobs of white fluid. Right after, the man perished between the soles of Katrina’s feet.
Katrina looked over her shoulder to see how the other guy was doing below the waist. “Almost there?” she asked him – but of course he couldn’t answer, because he was asphyxiating between her thighs. She leaned back and watched him wank himself like crazy. Just when it looked like he was about to blow, his whole body seemed to tense up. Tiny tremors radiated through his toned muscles – this was the end; he was done for. The poor bastard bought it before he could get sexual release. His stiff one was still sticking up straight with his hands around it, even though the rest of his body was slack and dead. “Aw, you poor man!” Katrina said. “I thought you had a chance to make it, but you weren’t fast enough to the draw! That sucks.” Katrina dismounted the two dead males and surveyed the damage: another four patrol guards snuffed out in the night, their dead bodies haphazardly strewn across the ground. Katrina slipped on her running shoes and walked back to camp, satisfied with another day’s work.
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Katrina knew that sooner or later she’d have to mount an attack on the terrorists’ base. But the timing had to be right – if she were greatly outnumbered, she might not survive. For now, she was satisfied to pick them off as they searched the jungle.
At daybreak the terrorists discovered yet another one of their patrols had been wiped out by an unseen foe. They were furious. This time they sent out a patrol with ten men – they were determined to catch the men responsible. (Of course, they still didn’t know it was a lone woman!)
Katrina spotted the ten guards on patrol. They looked pissed off and ready to shoot anything that moved. Unbeknownst to them, Katrina climbed her way into the treetops and found a sturdy vine to hold. Once the line of men was in range, Katrina jumped from the branch like a female Tarzan, swinging low into the path of the oncoming patrol. “YIIIIIAAAAHHHHH!” she cried as she hurtled toward the men.
The man in the front of the line didn’t stand a chance. The last thing he ever saw was Katrina’s foot bearing down on his face. She kicked out at the guard’s head, which bore the brunt of her leap. His head snapped back, making a grotesque cracking sound. He was the first man from the patrol to die – Kill #1.
The nine men behind him were knocked down like a row of dominoes, with each successive man pinned underneath the beefy guy in front of him. Katrina let go of the vine and made a feline landing on her feet directly behind the last man in the column. He was still flat on his back, trying to figure out what just happened, when he looked up and saw Katrina standing there. The dumb fool didn’t connect the dots to figure out that Katrina was the one who leapt from the trees and attacked them. He extricated himself from the domino pile and turned toward Katrina, smiling so as to ingratiate himself with the sexy girl in the yellow bikini. The moron took one more step and was greeted by a nasty karate chop from Katrina right in the throat. He gagged and grabbed his crushed windpipe. Blood started to dribble from his mouth as the guy dropped to his knees. He knelt there for a second, staring up at the bikini girl and wondering, ‘Why did she do that to me?’ He didn’t live long enough to figure it out – he toppled over and promptly expired. Kill #2.
The other men were now back on their feet. They were aware of the presence of Katrina and two dead members of their search party. These guys – though not too swift – managed to put two and two together to realize that Katrina was the one responsible for the reduction in their number. They pointed their machine guns and fired at Katrina. Blam-blam-blam-blam!!!! The gunfire shattered the tranquility of the tropical forest, but Katrina had already made a dash to safety. She sped through the bushes out of harm’s way while the guards continued to fire in all directions. Katrina had run away in a blur, and the men had no idea in which direction she sprinted. They split into two teams of four and chased her into the thick forest.
Katrina crouched patiently in the shadows as one of the groups of men passed her. When the last terrorist dude went by, Katrina pounced. She put him in a chokehold and covered his mouth. While the other three men continued forward, Katrina silently strangled the man. He didn’t put up much of a fight. His dick grew several sizes the whole time. Eventually the guy’s Speedo trunks were damp with his ejaculation. He twitched in Katrina’s arms and then surrendered to death. She quietly set him down on the ground – Kill #3.
Katrina tiptoed behind the first three men. Whenever the idiots thought they heard something, they’d stop in their tracks, crouch, and listen. Problem was, so did Katrina. She gained ground on them. Finally the blonde, bikini-clad assassin threw her body onto the back of the man bringing up the rear. She wrapped herself around him like she was riding a horse. The man in front of him heard the attack and turned around with his machine gun ready, but realized he couldn’t shoot without hitting his buddy. So he just stood there, mouth agape at the sight of Katrina on the guy’s back. Katrina didn’t let him stare – she kicked sharply with one foot, her toes digging into his six pack. The man doubled over. Katrina then kicked him again. This time, the blow was too much: he winced in agony and let out a grunt as he fell and became Kill #4.
Katrina was still clinging to the man’s back when his other pal charged at them. Katrina pushed both feet forward so that the goon ran right into them. The impact knocked the air and saliva out of him; he stumbled backwards and landed on his butt in the bushes.
Meanwhile, Katrina brought down her heels and smashed them into the loins of the man whose back she was riding. She kept digging her heels into his swim trunks, like a cowgirl with spurs digging into a horse. The man couldn’t bear the pain of having his swollen package repeatedly pounded. He fell face-forward, spilling Katrina off his back and onto the ground. The man rolled around on the ground, holding his ruined manhood in his hands, moaning. When he rolled onto his back, Katrina put him out of his misery by stomping on his balls. The man died straight away – Kill #5.
The one Katrina had knocked into the bushes was trying to crawl away. He backed away from the woman as she slowly approached him. He was sweating profusely, shivering with fear. He knew at least one word of English: “No, no, no, no!” Katrina smiled wickedly as the man begged for his life. He knew he was doomed. He covered his balls and his erection with both hands in a vain attempt to shield them from Katrina. Her solution was to give the man a powerful chop in the belly. “Ooofff!” the man grunted and reached for his gut. With the man’s groin now exposed, Katrina placed a thunderous punch between his legs. His arms and legs flung out on impact, and the man instantly turned to rubber. He fell limp and slumped over dead. Kill #6.
“Now that this team is finished,” Katrina said, “I have to find the last four men.”
It didn’t take her long. She could hear the dimwits rustling in the forest from a mile away. Once again, Katrina snuck up on them from behind. They were all crouching behind a tree, lying in ambush for her. Little did they know that the deadly chick in the bikini was right behind them.
“Ahem.” Katrina cleared her throat. The four men spun around. Katrina grabbed all four of their machine guns and ripped them out of their hands. She twisted the metal barrels with her bare hands, crimping them and rendering them useless. The men watched in awe as Katrina tossed aside the weapons. “You’re gonna have to beat me fair and square,” she said to the four dolts.
The four looked at each other, then charged. “YAHHHHH!” they cried as they ran full-tilt at the smaller woman. Sure, she’d just bent the metal of their guns with her bare hands, but how strong could such an average-sized woman be? They soon found out . . .
Katrina swept her legs under one of the men, knocking him to the ground. She then kicked out with her right foot and sent another man spinning out of control. The third man got a quick punch in the abs that almost made him puke. And the fourth guy simply got the old knee-in-the-crotch technique. He hobbled around holding his smarting nuts.
“What else ya got?” Katrina challenged them. They charged again. Again, Katrina kicked and punched them into submission. A kick to the chest here, a box on the jaw there, and the men were once again victims of the girl’s superior fighting skills.
The men stupidly kept coming for more. It was a spectacular display of hand-to-hand combat by Katrina as she kept pummeling the four men in a dizzy melee of fists and feet. The men’s butts were being kicked left and right. Despite the punishment Katrina was dealing out, they staggered on their feet and made one charge after another. Bruised and bleeding, their male pride was the only thing that kept them fighting.
“You guys are really tough,” Katrina lied to them. “I don’t think I can keep this up!” She lulled them into a false sense of advantage. The beaten males stumbled their way at her again. Katrina zapped one with a punch to his gut. She knocked another one silly by flipping him over her shoulder. She kicked away the third guy and pounded the fourth guy to the ground. “Okay, guys: the party’s over. Time to die.”
Katrina waited for the first man to get back on his feet. He came at her with a feeble lunge. She kicked out her foot and straight-legged the guy in the balls. “AHHH!” he screamed as little drops of cum squirted out the top of his Speedos. He flew backwards and landed dead on his back – Kill #7.
The next man on his feet rushed at Katrina, trying to take her by surprise from behind. She lowered her shoulders and lifted him onto her back. Katrina then flipped him over so that he was spread-eagled on the ground. She dropped to the ground and got him in a scissor hold, compressing his lungs with her thighs. His arms flailed as he tried to reach back and hit Katrina. All he could manage to do was touch the flexing muscles of her thighs as they constricted his air. Turning blue and losing, the man spanked off some jism while he waited to die. Seconds later he was history – Kill #8.
The last two men were both getting on their feet and rubbing their sore bodies. They knew they couldn’t run away. They knew they couldn’t beat this woman. All they could do was stand there and wait to see what cruel method she would use to dispatch them. Katrina strode toward them, looking sexy as ever in her skimpy yellow bikini. The men just stood there – their fate was sealed. Katrina put both hands forward and grabbed the two men by their throats. She lifted them off the ground and held them in the air, dangling them like a couple of playthings. “Let’s see,” Katrina mused, “which of you am I going to kill first?” The men’s eyes darted at each other apprehensively. They made severe choking sounds as Katrina squeezed them. “I’ve got an idea!” Katrina said. “Since so many of you Red Sword bastards seem to enjoy a good squirt before you die, why don’t we have a contest to see who can jack off the fastest? First one to yank off gets to die first.” The men didn’t see anything wrong with her proposal – they were dead, anyway – so they might as well enjoy a parting cum-blast. They reached and slid down their swim trunks, taking their taut joysticks in their hands. The two men whacked off with abandon. It was like an Olympic event: Two Minute Freestyle Masturbation! They whipped their willies feverishly while Katrina asphyxiated them. The guy on the left was winning the race: Katrina could tell because his toes were starting to curl and his eyes were rolling back. “I think we have a winner!” she said right as the man’s cock sent a heroic stream of cum into the air. Crrrricckkk! Katrina quickly crushed the man’s throat between her fingers, abruptly ending his young life at its highest point of pleasure. She dropped him like a sack of potatoes – Kill #9.
Katrina placed both hands around the last man’s neck. “Come on, slowpoke! You don’t want this to drag out, do you?” The man kept beating it as fast as he could. His feet dangled six inches off the ground and kicked furiously. The man’s hips started thrusting as he reached the apex of arousal. Just then his milk started to pump. With the same, sickening ‘crrrunch,’ Katrina crushed the man’s throat right at the moment of orgasm. He twitched and thrashed in her deadly grip, his seed flying wantonly. “Ha, ha! You’re totally fucked!” Katrina laughed as the man bit the dust in her hands. She tossed him into the dirt where he continued to twitch a little even in death. He was Kill #10.
Katrina had literally decimated the latest patrol. The death toll now stood at 24 only three days into the mission. But there were still hundreds of terrorists to kill . . .
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Katrina sat idly by her crackling campfire. She was deep in the forest, far away from the Red Sword base and the guard patrols. She was mentally planning her attack on their compound when she heard the sound of crackling fire that wasn’t coming from her campfire. She climbed a nearby tree for a better vantage point.
In the distance, Katrina could see several small fires burning in the forest. They were too close together to be caused by an accidental lightning strike. “The terrorists must be trying to burn me out of the forest!” Katrina jumped down from the tree. She was pissed off in a big way. Katrina knew how rare tropical rain forests were these days, and she wasn’t about to let a bunch of fascist terrorists destroy another one!
She tore off the light jumper she wore in the cool evenings, revealing her sexy black bikini. She put on her hip running shoes and sprinted down the trail toward the flames.
After about twenty minutes of running, Katrina approached the scene of the crime. A group of eight Red Sword goons, some with flamethrowers, was scorching the jungle in an attempt to smoke out their enemy. “Well, they got what they wanted – here I am!” Katrina muttered to herself as she went in for the kill.
The men were lazily torching the trees and plants around them, setting fire to a verdant slope. Katrina focused on one man, a straggler who was much further away from the rest of the gang. “He’s all mine,” Katrina said. She scrambled out of the darkness. Through the smoke and haze, the man didn’t see her coming. Katrina wrapped her arm around his neck and turned off the man’s flamethrower. “You shouldn’t have done that!” she scolded him. The man tried to cut loose, but Katrina put him in a sleeper hold. He wriggled around and hollered pathetically.
Some of the other men heard their buddy and ran to his aid. When they saw Katrina holding him, they weren’t sure what to do. Katrina took the hose of the flamethrower in one hand and pointed it at the other men. “You guys are TOAST!” she yelled to them, igniting the fuel. She waved the nozzle in their direction, sending a long stream of burning fuel right at them. The two men nearest to her were consumed by fire. They ran around in circles, their bodies completely ablaze, as Katrina burned them up. Both men fell to the ground. Flames leapt from their bodies as they died a horrible, fiery death.
The other men saw their pals get gruesomely incinerated and ran away in terror. Katrina gave them a head start – she knew she could catch up to them. She still had a hold on the man whose flamethrower she’d hijacked. “Thanks for letting me borrow your toy,” she said to the guy as she shoved his neck between her thighs. Then – snap! – she twisted her legs and broke his neck. “Now you won’t be able to hurt the trees anymore.”
Katrina peeled away and jogged down the trail, listening for sounds of the other flamethrower operators. She could hear yelling in the distance, so she followed the noise. A moment later Katrina came across a clearing in the forest. She was about to step into the clearing when she realized what it was. “Whoa!” she exclaimed as she teetered on the edge of a large pool of quicksand. “That was close!” Then she saw where the yelling originated: the other five men were trapped in the quicksand! “Sucks to be you!” she said to the men as they struggled to pull themselves out.