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Deep Down Inside - Part 30 - Battle of Kerch Strait III

Written by circes_cup :: [Saturday, 05 October 2013 18:14] Last updated by ::

Warning: This is adult literature.  If you’re not of a legal age to read this stuff, don’t.
Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction.  No semblance between the characters described here and real individuals -- living or dead -- is implied or intended.
"Crush them," she said, recalling Tammy's instruction.  "Hmm.  I wonder how I should do that?"
Louisa directed her superhuman eyes to the landscape below, assessing it with far more power than even the latest spy satellites could.  The view from here was expansive.  If it has been any other situation, her mind would have needed many hours to assess everything her eyes took in.  But Louisa was in combat, and the machine inside of her seemed to relish this.  It accelerated her mind to an unreal speed.  The images passed before her at a lightning pace, and her mind processed the imagery with tactical precision, examining tens of thousands of objects -- both relevant ones and mundane ones -- in an instant.  
"Periscope," Louisa said to herself, casting a glance out over the Black Sea water.  What the hell is that doing there?
The landscape below her sped by in a blur as the supergirl raced toward the sea.  The moist smell of salt tickled her nose for only a moment before she plunged beneath the waves, "flying" at many times the speed of even the fastest torpedo.  A submarine was indeed down there, and a biggie too.  A glance at the markings on the superstructure made clear that the boat belonged to her enemies -- fair game, she smiled.
Louisa had been the only supergirl not to participate in the cruise ship rescue, and as a result, the sheer size of this boat was something of a shock.  As she lay her heads on the nose of the submarine, she realized that it was city block or more in size, an enormous mass of dark steel.   The boat was doing perhaps 20 knots underwater -- a good clip. 
She should have been intimidated, she realized, by the sheer momentum of such a massive object at such a massive speed.  Hmm, she giggled.  This is a nuclear-powered behemoth, perhaps thousands of tons, squaring off against little old me.  Or I should say, little old SUPER me.  Oh well, she sighed to herself, I guess it will be no contest.  
Hands planted firmly on the nose, Louisa felt her familiar flight powers kick in.   The submarine's propeller screws screamed in protest as Louisa effortlessly applied thousands of tons of flight force against the submarine.  It slowly shuddered to a halt.  
But that wasn't enough for Louisa.  She casually doubled the force she was applying, and the sub, despite the furious action of its propellers, was soon being pushed backwards.
Inside, she could hear the panicked shouts of the crew as they tried to comprehend what was happening to their boat -- why the frame was groaning, the propellers whining, and the speedometer showing negative speed.
Remembering that submarines have microphones, Louisa spoke.  "Come on guys, pedal harder!"
The boat's propellers screamed in futility.
"Wow you guys are lame!  What's the problem?" she asked.  "Oh, I know.  You pissed off my Ukrainian friend!"  She gave the sub a dismissive shove, and boat turned sideways as it tumbled away from her.
A loud sonar "bing" went out, followed by a whooshing sound.  Hundreds of feet away in the murky water, normal human eyes wouldn't have seen it.  But the x-ray image in Louisa's mind was perfectly clear: they were firing the torpedoes.  
The weapons raced toward Louisa, and she smiled a their approach.  Extinguishing her flight skills, she swam with unparalleled grace toward the first of the torpedoes, and soon had it in a bear hug.  Not programmed for this behavior, the weapon fished about wildly, searching for its target, but Louisa hung on all the while.  As the moments ticked down, Louisa wrapped her legs around it as well.  
The much-anticipated explosion was delightful.  Scorching gases warmed her skin and the supersonic shrapnel tickled her most private, feminine parts.  The concussive shock wave -- enough to shatter any steel hull -- sent a breathtaking reverberation through her, even as her body went through pleasurable convulsions of its own.  "Wow," Louisa thought.  "Full-on combat is so much fun!"
The second torpedo was courteous enough to wait several moments to explode.  She sought it out too, and experienced the whole parade of sensations over again.  
Louisa floated in momentary bliss before rallying herself for the final assault.
Scanning the underwater gloom, she found the submarine pointed straight away from her.  They were making a run for it.  "Tsk, tsk" Louisa shouted at many times the volume of their sonar.  "We're just getting started!"
Approaching the boat from behind, she greedily ran her hand over the hull.  The nuclear engine was just beneath her now.  
Straddling the hull, she spread her legs wide until her sex was up against the massive steel.  The underwater gloom lit up in bright blue as a bolt of electricity formed between the submarine and junction of her legs.  Louisa let escape an indulgent moan from her lips as she began to drain the nuclear reactor of its life.  The girl's legs involuntarily convulsed in pleasure, sending a CRACK sound through the water as the hull caved in to the merciless power of her thighs.  
The immense power of the nuclear reactor flowed entirely through her clit, sending her into fits of ecstasy.  Thoughtlessly, she ran her clit along the steel surface, gouging a channel into it the width of a penny.  She laughed to herself to realize that the military's most formidable steel hull was nothing compared to the most sensitive part of her anatomy.
As the reactor was drained further, it responded by increasing its output.  Louisa gasped in surprise as the additional power surged into her.  Since she had just spent several days "filling the tank" at Tammy's favorite Ukrainian reactor, Louisa was surprised her body could absorb even more.  But apparently it could.  The sensation was as tantalizing as she could imagine.
Within minutes, the river of power flowing into her became a thin trickle, and Louisa knew that the reactor would soon be a useless hulk.  "Oh well," she sighed.  "Whatever will I do with all that extra power?" she asked herself as she ran her hands affectionately over the dark steel of the boat.  A mischievous smile crossed her face, and she swelled her flight powers exponentially.  
For Louisa and her friends, flight was simply the action of using her stored power to "push" against objects -- the ground, an air mass, even the moon.  And since those objects always stayed fixed, it was the girl that moved --thus, flight.  But Louisa knew that she could use this pushing force in more creative ways as well.  For example, why not "push" in two directions at the same time, such as the seafloor below -- and a submarine above.
Shorebirds scattered in panic as the dark nose of the submarine -- forty feet across -- erupted out of the water.  Beneath it, Louisa giggled as the massive object obeyed the whims of her overwhelming power.  Sheets of water cascaded off the boat as it left the sea beneath.  She heard the submarine's hatch door open on the  top side, followed by excited shouts.  The exclamations only grew louder, and before long, Louisa had received a comprehensive overview of Russian profanity that she only wished she could remember.
Louisa loved being this powerful.  In her arms was thousands upon thousands of tons of war ship.  But her flight powers were so damn strong, the boat was little more than a toy to her.  
Speaking of toys, she noted that the battlefield was approaching below. 
"DAMN IT!" the Eastern Coalition Commander nearly screamed, hurling the phone across the room.  "I need solutions, not excuses!"
His subordinates looked as though they had seen a ghost.  And in a sense, they had.  This woman of unreal beauty had left three of his five division commanders without divisions.
"Well," one of his Majors piped up.  "There is the ZBV3."
"The what?"
The Major hesitated.  "Mr. Thingy."
"Not Mr. Thingy!" they replied in unison.
"It might just work," the Major continued.   "A tactical nuclear weapon would be big enough to win the battle, but small enough to leave only a small patch of the area irradiated."
"How do we get her to sit still long enough to use it on her?"
"I don't think she's the target.   Fire it at the Ukrainian troops."
"Then how do we get rid of her?" the Commander asked.  And how do I enjoy her first, he wanted to add?
"You were the one that met her in person.  Isn't there something -- anything -- from your interaction with her that suggests a vulnerability?"
The Commander became lost in thought as he retraced his conversation with her.   A glint came to his eye as he arrived at the answer.  "Yes, she did mention something," he admitted.
Kryptonite bullets.
"L-baby, what are you going to come up with next?"  Tammy giggled out loud as she watched the enormous submarine fly toward her.  It was remarkable to see the cigar-shaped object fly, but even more so to see what held the behemoth aloft.  Louisa was tiny by comparison -- just a curly-haired speck on the back of the boat -- clad in the newly-issued blue and yellow against the warm ivory of her skin.
"What are you going to do with that thing?"  Tammy shouted.
Louisa motioned to the army below.  "You told me to crush them.  I thought it would be easier to do with a rolling pin!"
"Cool!  At least issue a final warning to the troops."
"Whatever you say, commander!" Louisa replied with reluctant obedience.  Then facing the ground below, she raised her voice.  "GET THE HELL OFF THE BATTLEFIELD UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE SMUSHED!"
Chaos erupted below as the enemy army looked skyward, gave up all hope of victory and fled their vehicles, foxholes and weapons batteries.  It was several long minutes before the swarm of activity on the valley floor died down and was replaced by depopulated stillness.
"And let the people out of the submarine," Tammy added with authority.
"OK, if you insist," Louisa groaned.
She gently lowered the boat to a hillside.  Stunned sailors quickly spilled out and fled.
"Can I finally do this now?"  Louisa shouted to her friend in the sky.
Her friend nodded.
Louisa picked the submarine up in the middle and held it perpendicular to her flight path-- like an enormous cigar-shaped wing.  Flying to the front of an abandoned column, she let the boat loose and "pushed" it forward with her massive flight skills.  The boat slammed into the ground with an earthquake-like BOOM.  It then rolled down the battlefield like an enormous rolling pin.  
The boat's protruding tower immediately snapped off.  Under its terrible weight, vehicles were flattened and artillery was folded like broken twigs.  Fuel and munitions exploded under its juggernaut progress, while rocket launchers broke to useless bits.
Louisa performed a lazy aerial loop, joining her blond friend high in the skies.  Below them was utter destruction -- the tank column Louisa had torn apart with her hands, the artillery Tammy had torn apart with her beams, a shattered air force, and now this -- a battlefield's worth of equipment rolled under like cookie dough.  She motioned toward battlefield.  "Satisfied?" she asked.
"Not yet," her friend replied dryly.
A look of frustration washed over Louisa's face.  "After all that, you're not satisfied?  I'm getting sick of being your little dutiful little assistant here, Tammy.   When is this going to end?"
"You're getting sick of me?"  Tammy's eyes were deep in thought.  "That's good.  That's very good."
"Is this the end?" the Eastern Coalition commander asked.  "Are you here to kill me?"  He heard feminine footfalls on the floor behind him, and smelled an enticing scent.  Although, it was a different scent than the one he remember.
"Not really," replied a woman's voice, slightly lower than the blonde's voice had been.
Turning, he saw a brunette, every bit as ravishing as the first supergirl, and even wearing the same blue-and-yellow uniform he had seen Tamara wear in battle.  He remained still, hand resting on the holster of his gun.  
"There's dissension in the ranks...." the girl sighed, "...the girl ranks.  Our leader of this little expedition has become a real drag, and diabolical too.  Even this, "she motioned toward the television monitor with an image of the submarine on it, "is not enough to satisfy her."
"You want me to get rid of the blond," he observed.
Her only response was a devilish smile. 
"I could use some help with that," he admitted.  "She's not easy to kill."
"That's why I came," she said, placing a cardboard box on his desk.  "I know you'll know what to do with these.  But be forewarned, do it quick.  She's really fucking hot, and you're just a man.  The the more time you waste talking to her, the less... brainpower.... you'll have."
He opened up the box and viewed the contents.  The brunette was right.  Killing her was more important than experiencing her charms.  He would need to be disciplined.
"Tell her I'm ready to see her."  His voice was gruff, strong.  "Tell her it's about a surrender.  That should bring her running."
"Good, I'm leaving to go back to Phoenix.  Finish her, and no one else will stand in your way.  You can colonize this stupid Strait to your heart's content."  The stunning brunette floated upward.  In a blur, her body exited through the office window-- the one that hadn't been broken by the previous visit.  Its glass shattered explosively as her silhouette danced off into the sky.
The Commander glanced down again at the box -- bullets, coated on their tips with an unusual green.  Without sending it off for testing, he already knew what is was: Kryptonite.
"You wanted to see me?"  the blond girl asked as she strode into the enemy Commander's office.  She remained in her blue and yellow uniform this time.  "What the hell happened to your other window?"
"Uh, blew out when a shell landed nearby."
"What am I here to talk about?"
"Kryptonite -- same thing that killed superman in the comics."  He tossed a bullet her direction. 
She caught it and glanced at the green substance on the tip.  Her face contorted in fear.
While she took stock of the threat, he leveled his gun at her.   His finger went to the trigger, but hesitated.
God, she's beautiful, he said to himself.  The panic of the moment had widened her eyes into rapturous pools of blue.  She breathed laboriously, heaving her chest up and down slightly and undulating her exposed midriff. 
No, he told himself.  Kill her now.  He glanced at her once again, to take in her beautiful physique one last time before ruining it with his weapon.  The graceful lines of her taut legs, the liberal swell of her hips...
Maybe just a little taste of her charms-- maybe that wouldn't risk too much.  After feeling her lips against his, after feeling the softness of her skin, then he would kill her.  Surely he would.  A revised plan formed in his mind.  He motioned toward the door.  "Walk".
A helicopter was waiting for the two.  They boarded.
In only minutes, it had dropped them off at a remote encampment.  He watched the blond take in her surroundings as the thump-thump of the helicopter receded into the distance.  Piles of ammunition, armaments and machinery lay neatly assembled on the forest floor, all carefully camouflaged.  In the middle of them all, an enormous piece of artillery, likely bigger than anything the blond had seen before.
"What is this place?"  she asked, bewildered.
"It's the Ukraine's worst nightmare.  Enough equipment to field a second army equal to the first.  And the centerpiece," he pointed, "a tactical nuclear weapon."
"A what?"
He rolled his eyes.  "Why is it that the Ukraine's most deadly soldier doesn't know shit about soldiering?  Didn't they teach you anything?"
"A tactical nuclear weapon is designed for the battlefield.  It packs about 20 kilotons --- enough to obliterate your friends down there, but not enough to stop us from using the land after we conquer it.  And it's fired out of a standard piece of artillery, like any other shell.  That means delivery is instantaneous, and it's already been aimed."
"Oh," the blond said quietly.
"And just to make sure you behave, I set it on a dead man's switch."
"A what?"
The General rolled his eyes again as he held up a remote control for her inspection.  "If I let go of this button, then the weapon fires."
"Oh."  She seemed confused.
"Let me make it very simple for you.  You kill me, and my body won't be able to hold the trigger down any more, which means the weapon fires and detonates a nuclear bomb over all your buddies." 
The fear which had spread across her face before the helicopter ride now deepened.  This was working perfectly, he smiled to himself.
"Now," he scowled.  "How much mercy I'm going to show on your pathetic army depends on how you behave from here.  Do what I tell you, and I'll simply roll my army in to take possession of the Strait.  Get feisty on me and I'll kill you with this," he motioned toward the gun in his right hand, "and I'll kill all your Ukrainian friends with this."  He motioned toward the dead man's switch in his left.
"What do you want me to do?" she said softly.
The General took a step toward her, placed his lips only inches from her own.  "I have a little itch to scratch."  He motioned down at his waistline.
"Oh."  The woman understood, defeated.
The blond gently undid his trousers and dropped them to his ankles.  She got down on her knees.   His cock was slowly hardening, and she slowly stroked her lips once over it.  He strained against the inviting warmth of her tongue.
Then, she eased him downward into the soft earth, and slowly climbed on top of him.
Her top came off first, setting free two magnificent tits that actually rose once free of their constraints.  Next came her bottoms, which she gently slid down over her wide hips and shapely thighs.  Her body was perfectly toned, free of any blemish -- peerless.  And her face, now so full of humility and fear, made his cock strain harder.  
She lowered herself onto him.  And he gasped in shock at the tightness of her vaginal embrace -- tighter than any virgin.  
She began to stroke him.  The motion was more fluid and powerful than anything his cock had ever experienced.   A delicious, slippery heat flooded his manhood.  Her vaginal muscles worked with the precision of a symphony, and he soon felt a growing bliss that he previously never could have imagined.  
He also felt the wetness of a tear fall from her face to his.  It felt doubly good to know he had her beat.
"Can I ask you one teensy weensy favor?"  Her eyes were wide with supplication.
He didn't respond, but instead eyed her critically.
"Your last pistol teased only my right tit."  She placed a finger on the barrel of the gun and began slowly moving it.  "My left one is feeling a little bit lonely."
What was she suggesting?  These were kryptonite bullets!  But his thought process was cut off by another deft stroke of her pussy, and before he knew it, the gun was over her dark nub.
"It's amazing how these steel barrels are nothing compared by my super nipple -- when it's turned on."
The Commander heard a slight CRUNCH and realized that the gun barrel had split, subjected to the other-worldly forces of her aroused nipple.  He tried to remove the gun but could not.
"Ohhh, that feels good," she purred.  
"Why are you playing with that gun?  Its bullets could kill you."
"Let me ask you a question.  I happen to know a ton about minerals.  Have you ever heard of a commercial application of Kryptonite?  Have you ever hear of a mine that extracts its ore?  Or a market price?"
He shook his head.  Where was this going?
Her breath was hot as she lowered her lips to his ear.  "That's because it doesn't exist."
The breathtaking woman produced the bullet he had tossed to her back in his command center.  A delicate nail scraped across the surface, flaking the green away.  "Fingernail polish," she explained.  "From the Urban Decay line."
Her blue eyes seemed to study him as the truth sank in.  Her sex stroked his cock gently, and a delighted smile washed over her face.
"There it is," she remarked.  "I love that look-- the look of confidence fading from your eyes."
"But your disgruntled friend gave this to me.  Was that just a big joke?"
She bit her lip in delight and nodded as her pussy gave him another heart-stopping thrust.  "I just wanted to see what you'd do-- whether you'd get your hopes up, whether you'd get greedy and try to have me too."
Her hand slowly depressed the trigger of the gun.  It went off with a POP.  Instantly, a delighted moan escaped her lips, even as a searing pain shot down his arm.  The bullet, having found no path forward against invincible breast flesh, has exploded in the gun.  Burns and shards of metal tore at his hand and forearm. 
He yelped in pain.
She didn't seem to care. "You're smart -- no doubt about that," she continued.  "But I am more powerful than words can describe.  No amount of smart stands a chance against me.  I could be dumb as a post and your army would still be in tatters today.  Now I finally get to see that bright spark in your eyes fade away as you realize how invincible I am."
The Commander looked involuntarily at the artillery launcher -- the tactical nuke.
"Oh, that," she yawned.  "Let's take care of that too."  A blinding blue beam escaped her pointed finger.  The end of the barrel glowed blue before it began to sag.  The cylindrical barrel quickly collapsed, like a cake without yeast.
The Commander returned his gaze to her, barely keeping his rage in check. 
She seemed notice the anger in his face.  Raising and lowering her pussy a single time sent another wave of pleasure through him.
"Fine," he snarled.  "You've got my surrender.  Get off me and I'll deactivate the warhead.  With what you just did to the barrel, there's no point in firing that gun.  It would just kill us both."
Her perfect teeth shone as her lips parted for a smile.  "No, baby.  I don't want your surrender.  Your troops are running for the hills already.  We're going to finish what we started."
She gave his cock a deft reminder of her warm, slippery embrace.  She motioned with her chin at the remote in his hand.  "Remind me how that switch works?"
"If I release my thumb, it fires.  You want us both to die?"
Her pussy slid down his cock again, sending another delightful shiver through him.
"I wouldn't be so sure about the 'both' part," she laughed.  "I think a nuclear blast would be quite enjoyable-- for me."
Her warm, slippery insides began to stroke him faster, and he began to feel a pressure building.
"Oh, and one more thing.  I've screwed like a hundred guys with this body.  And one thing I've noticed -- when they came, every single one of them spasmed...."
She felt delightfully good to him, irresistibly good.
"... and when I say spasmed, I mean their hands opened and closed.  Yours will too."  She directed an eye toward the dead man's switch.  She lowered her head next to his and raked tongue over his earlobe.  
"See what I'm saying, baby?" she whispered.  "When you go boom, it goes boom.  I can't wait to feel the eight-thousand-degree heat.  I've never had it that hot before."
"My hand won't spasm."
"There a list of a hundred guys that would say otherwise," her feminine voice purred.
 Somehow, he knew she wasn't lying.
She pulled up now, letting the tightness of her pussy dance over the head of his cock.  "But you don't have to die," she continued.  "If you decide to cut off our little tryst and de-activate the bomb, I won't stop you.  All you need is the discipline to pull out of me."
The Commander felt a lump in his throat forming.
"You CAN bring yourself to do that, can't you?"  She smiled as she slowly slid down the entirety of his shaft.  "Sex with me is awesome, but it isn't worth dying for.  Is it?"
The Commander turned his hips to exit her, and felt the delicious massage of her pussy as it slid back up.  Maybe just a little bit longer, he told himself, as his body involuntarily thrust in again.
A mischievous smile crossed her lips.  "A little bit conflicted, are you?"
The Commander grabbed her by the ribcage and pulled his hips back, but stopped as the head of dick reached her labia.  The were so tight it was unreal, and the seemed to massage him with a mind of their own.  Unthinkingly, he found his hips thrusting upward yet again, burying his shaft in the depth of her.
"I had no idea, until I was in this body, how little willpower men can have."
"Fuck you," he replied swinging a round house punch at her.
It was a mistake.  Her jaw was hard as iron.  His hand stung from the blow.  
"I love a feisty guy.  It's such a turn-on."  She raked her fingernails lightly down his chest, sending his senses into conniptions.  Hooking her heels under his legs, his cock again thrilled at the sensation of sliding deeper into her.
"I can stop this whenever I want," he snarled.
"Then do," she invited, raising her hands away from him as if he was hot to the touch.
Leave her now, the Commander told himself.  This could get you killed.
Above him, she blithely stretched her arms above her head, and sighed, her mammoth tits jutting out in blissful ignorance of what gravity is supposed to do the them.  The sunlight, hued orange from battlefield smoke, traced hard lines across her remorseless curves.  He felt his body straining for her again, melting into the bliss between her legs.
"Having trouble with your discipline, soldier?" she purred.  "Think how good it would feel, to explode deeply inside of me-- to let all that tension drain out of you, to explode and then explode again."
The edges of her lips curled into a smile.  "Your breathing is become labored.  How many years do you have left anyway?  You could live to be a hundred and never experience sex with another woman even close to my caliber.   How good would it feel to let yourself go....
No!  His rational mind screamed at him.  But just at that moment, he felt her nibble his earlobe, and a hot, breathy moan cascaded through his senses.
"The pressure must be building greatly in your loins.  You must be wondering whether maybe, just maybe, the sacrifice is worth it-- jetting yourself into my hot, tender pussy, feeling the superhuman dance of my muscles as they massage every last drop out of your hot, raging..."
No, his mind screamed!  You need to be strong. 
Her voice was honey sweet.  "No one else possesses such a flawlessness.  Skinny but athletic, packed with a world of power.  How many guys would die to be in your position right now?  No pun intended.  How many guys would want to be under a woman like this?  My pussy wants you so badly right now, want to feel the hotness of you cumming into me ..."
No!  His mind objected again.  But then he felt his fingers sliding over her abdominal muscle, with its incredible ridges and valleys.  His fingers then climbed up her ribcage, and spread wide for her huge, perfect tits.  They were so firm, so supple.  Engorged nipples felt hard as pinballs as his hands surrounded them.
"AAAAAAHHHHH!" her sweet voice purred as he stimulated her engorged nubs.  "Let yourself go baby.  Indulge yourself.  You deserve it.  You deserve it in the worst way."
He thrust into her, hard.  She reciprocated, pressing her pelvis into him until her labia rested on the base of his manhood.  A spiraling intricate dance of her muscle worked its way up his shaft.  His cock suddenly felt like a cobra being charmed up and out of its basket, mesmerized by the music of her pussy muscles.
Then he looked into her eyes -- deep pools of crystalline blue that invited him, wholly, greedily, into her. 
"OOOOHAAA!" he heard himself exclaim.
He was cumming.  His whole body clenched as thrust after thrust jettisoned cum into her.  His hips thrust involuntarily forward, over and over, and he felt more and more cum blast out of him.
And then, his body evacuated of its passion, peace.  The tension went instantly out of him, replaced with an ethereal, deeply satisfying pleasure.  Jaw, legs, hands -- everything relaxed.  
Somewhere in the afterglow, he heard a click -- and realized that his hand over the trigger switch had opened.   Then, he heard a soft, female giggle.  And then -- his sexual reverie still coursing through him -- he descended into hot and infinite blackness.
The flight back to Yalta -- and to Alec -- was half trip, half victory lap.  The battlefield below her was the picture of devastation.  No greater testament could exist to the level of overwhelming, goddess-like power the girls had obtained.  
The sumptuous villa that the enemy had used for a headquarters was below as well -- unharmed.  It now belonged to the girls -- a "summer home" approximately thirty times the size of the home in which Tammy grew up.  Dmitri had gladly become its caretaker -- a small price to pay for continued access to the girls.  He waved at Tammy from the front porch.
Banking her flight to the west, Tammy exulted.  This is how it should be, a voice inside told her.  Everything that stands in your way, you crush.  Anything you want, you take.  You four are goddesses who will one day subjugate the earth.
But as pleasurable as that realization was, it was also disturbingly alien to her.  As she descended over the main square in Yalta, she saw that cheering crowds had assembled for her.  The adulations coming from below were gratifying, in a more genuine way that the injected feelings of dominance had been.  How did I begin to desire the subjugation of all how resist me, she wondered?  Is that really what I am becoming-- on overlord?  And why is the yearning for this growing in recent weeks?
Maybe it's not a big deal, Tammy told herself as she slowly descended into the cheering crowd.  What do I owe these people anyway?
But then she saw the continued flickering of the lights -- a sign that Vicky or Kim was drawing on the power plant.  And that infernal nature show was playing on the TV in the cafe again.
" ... and thus the fish and the anemone have entered into an unthinking but ingenious relationship: the fish produces sustenance for the anemone, and in return, the anemone's powerful defenses keep the fish safe from predators.  There are many examples of this type of relationship in the natural world-- a relationship called symbiosis."

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