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Deep Down Inside - Part 41 - … and Another Dam Breaks

Written by circes_cup :: [Saturday, 22 March 2014 14:25] Last updated by :: [Saturday, 22 March 2014 16:09]

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PART 41 - … and Another Dam Breaks

 


 

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.

 


 

Plot Synopsis Up to This Point:

Four female postgraduate students in New Mexico (Vicky, Tammy, Louisa and Kim) are living depressing lives fraught with personal and professional failures.

One day, driving through the lonely new Mexico desert, they are commandeered by aliens. Turns out, the aliens would like to come back one day and mine the our earthly sphere until it's Swiss cheese. But in the meantime, they need a little help mapping the earth's geology and occasionally subduing its population. And who better to help with that than a handful of local females, recruited involuntarily? The aliens soup them up with some supernatural abilities and turn them loose. These supernatural abilities include not only absurd strength, but also being absurdly attractive, with the sexual appetite to match. The part of their body that pack's the greatest punch are their breasts, which store enough power to level a city.

Vicky is the leader of the four. She could have any man she wants, but she pines after the heart of the one man who knows her better than any other: Jared. She wants his respect, and hopes that this will lead to a deeper companionship.

Earning Jared's respect means doing superhero stuff, and to that end, Vicky has enlisted the services of her friend Ethan, who heads up the group's command center.

Speaking of superhero stuff, the girls achieved their biggest accomplishment yet in Part 38, The War on Drugs. In that chapter, the girls nearly brought the illicit drug trade to its knees.

But as soon as this was achieved, the aliens returned to begin their sinister mining. When the aliens arrive, they control every aspect of Vicky’s thoughts and emotions, and she, in turn, controls the remaining three girls. The four of them obliterate anything that stands in the way of the of aliens and their diabolical plans. In Part 39, the girls eliminate a warlord’s encampment on the Central Asian steppe that had the misfortune of lying over some enticing ore reserves.

After the aliens leave with their first haul of ore, the girls try to atone for their misdeeds by saving the Mexican City of San Pacian in Part 40. They save the city from many perils, including a flood.

Now, the aliens are back again, and they mean business. Vicky will try to resist the onslaught of mind control that the aliens unleash on her. She succeeded in holding back the waters above San Pacian, forming a dam with her supernatural powers. Now she must form an wall of mental strength against the aliens. Is that a dam she can sustain?
 


 

"What do you mean we can't convene a meeting of the UN General Assembly?" Tamara was nearly shouting into the phone, as Vicky writhed in pain on the floor. "Do you even understand what I am saying? Any country that tries to resist these aliens will die a swift death … . No, I'm not making this up … . No, I'm not making threats. … . No, you don't understand. The aliens are coming, and the only thing they can do is get out of the way. We need to let every government in the world know this … . No, I'm not a head of state … . No, I'm not an appointed representative. Being a supergirl isn't enough for me to get an audience with a few governments? … .. Look, I'm just trying to do the right thing … . Fuck."

She slammed the phone down in frustration.

Vicky tried to smile. "You did everything you could. At least I was able to deliver the message on the show."

An hour later, the four girls watched the broadcast. There Vicky sat, back in the same interview chair where she had described her Sober Is Sexy Campaign so many weeks ago. There was the same interviewer too.

"So you're not here to talk about the so-called War on Drugs?" he asked.

"No, I'm here to talk about something else – something very frightening. Alien mining craft are coming to this world, and we don't know how to stop them. They will extract whatever they want. Entire cities will be obliterated."

The interviewer chuckled nervously, but at the same time, he seemed to grow a little bit paler. "But you can stop them right? You're invincible."

"The aliens made me what I am – gave me the power that I have. But I represent but a small fraction of the power they possess. To them, I am more of a trinket than a potential threat."

The interviewer, for the first time since Vicky had met him, was at a loss for questions.

"The aliens … " Vicky felt a pang and nearly keeled over. "Want some ore that sits under the Pacific Ocean. They are going to come and take it. And nobody is going to stop us."

"Us?"

Vicky hung her head. "I'm not just any trinket. I'm their trinket. When they come, we will serve them. And we will cut down whoever stands in our way."

A palpable chill came over the broadcast studio, Vicky remembered, when she voiced those words.

The interviewer seemed to struggle with surreal nature of the conversation. "These aliens – assuming they exist – uh, exactly how big is the hole they intend to dig?"

"A hundred miles across."

"Surely the military forces of the earth will resist them, even if it means using nuclear weapons!"

"Don't you DARE," Vicky nearly screamed. The impact of her voice rattled the coffee mug on the desk.

The interviewer, startled, inched his chair backward.

Vicky's face contorted, before her voice returned – quieter now, and scathing. "Don't you dare touch them. I am warning you now: if some navy is stupid enough to send a boat out onto that water, I will send it to the bottom of the ocean. If I see a single dingy out there, I will tear it apart. Plank. By. Plank. And the people inside it, too."

"This is not the same Vicky who sat in that chair several weeks ago to talk about getting addicts to quit drugs."

"Maybe it's not," she replied, her voice shaking. "You have no idea the forces that have been unleashed inside of me. Mustering the independent will to make this announcement was hard enough. As the aliens approach, my ability to do even that will disappear. There will be no second announcement."

Then, she turned to the camera. "I am pleading with you all. Stay out of my way. I don't want you to get hurt. But there is nothing, nothing I can do to impede the control they have over me. When we discard our usual uniforms, that will be your only sign they have seized our minds for their purposes. We will dress ourselves in bikini's of dark steel – black and grey and red. When you see that, stay the hell out of our way."

 


 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Vicky moaned into her hands. Through the slits in her fingers, she could see Jared on the other side of her massive dining room table, shifting uncomfortably. "It hasn't even happened yet and I already feel like a piece of shit."

"Vicky," he ventured. "You have so much potential. You brought the Mexican drug trade to its knees. You've given thousands of addicts a new shot at life. You singlehandedly accomplished what entire governments struggled to do without success for 20 years. You saved an entire city from perishing under a wall of water."

"Thanks," she said, opening a "V" in her fingers and staring at him through wet eyes.

"But this other stuff – it for real – aliens, mining?"

"As real as all the powers I have."

"Surely, there is a way to stop the madness. Surely you can find something."

Vicky's lips quivered. He believed in her, she realized. But his faith was misplaced. "Jared, I can't find anything. When the aliens arrive, it's like I'm not even myself anymore."

"I'm sure you can figure out something!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "You need to find a way to be strong."

"I wish I was--" Vicky began. But then, blinding agony hit her. She stumbled up from the table. "Please, help me to the bathroom."

He did so, supporting her under the elbow as they ascended the stairs to the bathroom, which was adjoined by her massive walk-in closet. Hunched over in pain, she stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

"I'm surprised you're going to the bathroom," Jared shouted through the door. "Kim told me that you girls never had to answer nature's call anymore."

The sound of shuffling could be heard through the door before it opened again. When it did, Vicky was standing straight, with perfect posture. Her face was stolid, her eyes hard.

"Not nature's call," she said. "A different call."

She was wearing dark steel.

 


 

People on the streets of Phoenix cowered as the most terrifying air force in the world – four female figures, all clad in dark steel – announced their departure with a series of fifteen sonic booms. As the desert sun descended, they rose.

The figures adopted a ballistic flight path toward the Pacific, their incomparable speed turning them into minuscule dots in only a breath.

Although Vicky's super vision could well have observed the frightened reactions of the people below, she didn't bother to notice. Her attention was solely on what lay ahead. They bore through the clouds like bullets, layering on additional acceleration even as they descended towards the water.

She had no idea what ore the aliens wanted here. She didn't care. The patch of ocean itself was unremarkable – just deep aquamarine as far as they eye could see. It was empty-

-except for the enormous fleet of warships.

Seeing the ships down there made her furious. They intend to interfere with my wonderful aliens, she felt herself thinking. She imagined their bullets and their rockets firing upward at an alien craft, and her mind recoiled from the thought.

"Fools," Tamara seethed. "You had done so much to warn them. Maybe we should tell them one last time to clear the area."

But the suggestion, once vocalized, send a searing pain through Vicky. NO, NO, NO her insides screamed back. The time for warnings was over.

At that moment, all the conflict, all the guilt, washed away from her mind. She was no longer Vicky. She was a weapon.

She slipped her hands under the sinister dark-ochre-colored cabling of her steel suit, and cupped her breasts. Within the grasp of her palms was enough destructive power to level a large city a half dozen times. Her purpose became refreshingly, delightfully clear.

Vicky licked her lips as she surveyed the warships below. She didn't notice what flags the boats flew, or what they were named. Maybe they were from one country, maybe from several. It didn't matter.

Some of the ships had big guns. Others appeared to have landing pads for planes or helicopters. It wouldn't matter.

"What are the ones with the flat decks up front?" Kim asked.

"Who cares?" Vicky replied. "They will all look the same at the bottom of the ocean."

 


 

Before Vicky knew it, she was rocketing downward. Oddly, nothing rocketed back up at her. The must have seen me on their radar, she knew. But perhaps they didn't think I was serious.

Descending to only feet above the water, she extended her fists in front of her and barreled toward the side of the largest ship at several thousand miles per hour. The thick steel hull raced up to meet her.

She hit the ship in its midsection. In a flash, she was through the boat and out the other side, a yard-wide gash receding behind her.

As she looked over her shoulder, she realized that her puncturing of the boat would hardly stop it. The boat continued to remain upright, steaming forward. Of course, Vicky thought to herself. It has bulkheads and compartments and such, to stay afloat. She banked a 25-G turn – far tighter than any jet could handle – and shivered with anticipation. The boat, with all its reinforced steel, was a fragile plaything to her. She couldn't wait to break it.

This time, Vicky approached the boat head-on. This time, she spread her arms wide.

The bow of the ship was perhaps two feet of this steel, which she took on her forehead like a soccer player heading a ball. Her skull against the steel of the ship was of course no contest. She passed through it like is was made of sea foam. The spread of her arms caused a six-foot-wide gash and she penetrated bulkhead after bulkhead in blistering succession - BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG.

Exiting the stern of the ship, she turned to examine her handiwork. The boat was sitting strangely in the water now, the bow lower than the stern. It was listing significantly to one side, and she could hear desperate sirens wailing. Then, several BOOMS rose up from the vessel, and Vicky belatedly noticed the smell of explosive on her skin. She must have penetrated several weapons magazines during her flight through the ship.

The explosions seemed to further destabilize the ship. Before her eyes, the bow plunged further, and soon its deck slipped below the surface of the water. Vicky's laughed to herself. She didn't know the first thing about ships and yet she was by far the best naval weapon ever invented.

The other three girls were hovering far above, but they were connected to Vicky telepathically. Communicating with them was as easy as thought. She glazed at the assembled naval forces below, and then touched the minds of her girls, unleashing them.

 


 

Kim and her two companions fanned out in a deadly triangle and descended on their targets, not bothering to avoid the volley of missiles that rose up to meet them. Kim reveled in the gentle warmth of hot gasses that would incinerate any lesser being, in the delicate tickle of shrapnel that would have reduced any aircraft to confetti.

Stopping in front of one vessel – perhaps a heavy cruiser – she heard the rat-tat-tat of its full array of gatling guns, and then felt the massive bullets begin a dance across her body.

"If you think those guns are big," she whispered, "get a load of these." She pulled the dark steel of her uniform aside and felt her breasts spring proudly free. She gently massaged them and felt the now-familiar upwelling of unimaginable power. Giving her bosom a slight squeeze, two blinding bolts erupted forth.

The beams didn't damage the ship. They obliterated it. BLAM BLAM BLAM when the beams as they cut the massive ships to shreds.

The ship's superstructure simply vaporized under a hail of Kim's lightning. The hull was severed – cut clear through – in twenty different places. The fragments were as seaworthy as cinder blocks. Kim smiled as they disappeared beneath the surface. Where one a vessel as long as two city blocks had floated, now there was only open water, and debris.

Another ship was firing its weapons at her. Kim roared in fury.

Having witnessed Vicky's own experimentation with sinking a ship, Kim decided to leave nothing to chance. She accelerated to a blistering speed, dipping slightly below the water to become the fastest torpedo on earth. Shortly before she reached her target, she began a series of tight barrel rolls, tracing a circle only twenty feet wide. When she arrived at the ship, she barrel-rolled all the way down the length of its hull. Like a sewing machine without thread, she punched a hole every fifteen feet – THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD.

The ship had been designed to suffer the worst that naval combat could offer, but nothing on the order of what the young dished out. But the time she reached the stern, the bow had already angled steeply down into the water. Moments later, the ship shuddered deeply, and was gone.

 


 

"Destroying them one by one is lame," Louisa giggled as she and Tamara descended on a half-dozen hostile warships. Perhaps two million tones of naval weaponry floated below them. It was enough to topple the armed forces of a small nation. But to the girls, they were nothing more than playthings. It wasn't a question of who would win. Just a question of how to make it the most fun.

"Do you have any ideas how we could take all six out at once?" Tamara responded.

"I was thinking of one thing," she replied mischievously. "Come on, follow me!"

Louisa dove straight down into the water, followed by Tamara – making two splashes that rose several stories in the air.

Beneath the surface, Tamara found that Louisa was traveling at Mach 3 – sixty times faster than anything had ever traveled underwater before. Their path took them in a full circle around the targeted ships. The currents caused by her rapid circles threw the ships off course, forcing their bows counter-clockwise even as they tried to steam straight ahead.

Louisa accelerated her underwater laps around the ships, with Tamara following easily behind. From Mach 3, the girls sped up to Mach 10 – one hundred and twenty times faster than anything had ever traveled underwater.

Now, the movement of the girls was no longer causing simple currents. It was causing a vortex. The circular currents whipped the boats, hard, in a counterclockwise direction. Ships slammed violently into each other: SLAM, BOOM, CRUNCH.

Sirens on the ships wailed desperately. Torpedoes fired into the water, only to get caught in the vortex and detonate uselessly.

Louisa effortlessly doubled the speed of her laps, with Tamara accelerating to match. In moments, the exceptional speeds of the girls caused water inside their circle to assume a funnel shape. The ships now spun at twenty or thirty revolutions per minute, hopelessly snarled in the furious strength of the girls' movements. The walls of the vortex steepened, like water draining out of a bathtub.

{{ You make them look so pathetic! }} It was Vicky, speaking telepathically into the minds of her girls. {{ Finish them, my beautiful soldiers! }}

Tamara and Louisa put on a final burst of speed. Only moments later, the two million tons of military hardware succumbed to the other-worldly forces generated by the girls and their underwater flight. As their bows slid downward into the center of the vortex, the extreme force of the water spun the boats in violent, tight circles, quickly ripping them apart.

As Louisa and Tamara ended their circular revolutions and took to the sky, the vortex began to recede, and the funnel shape flattened. Within moments, the ocean surrendered its contents – anything that could float rose to the surface and spun slowly in listless circles. The rest was consigned to the deep.

 


 

Spinning lazily skyward, Vicky surveyed the damage below her. The fleet, or fleets, were in disarray. Two dozen ships had been torn to pieces and sent to their seafloor tomb.

But a half-dozen ships remained. Vicky eyed them greedily.

"What do we do with the rest?" one of the girls asked.

Vicky's voice took on the quality of iron. "The rest are mine."

The pack of remaining ships was fleeing the area. But it was too late. Vicky landed on the bow of smallest one, right next to the anchor chain. A gale of bullets pinged harmlessly off of her as she casually bent down to pick up the chain. Each link was probably hundreds of pounds, but it felt like nothing to her.

She dug her fingers into the metal of the chain and slowly climbed skyward. The chain rose skyward with her. And once the chain was fully taut, the bow of the boat began to rise out of the water as well.

Someone on the boat must have been very quick-thinking. Vicky felt the weight on the chain suddenly lessen, and she realized that someone was letting the chain out, trying to return the bow to the water. Nice try, she thought.

Vicky rose further still, and soon there was no more chain to let out. Her flight powers easily overpowered the force of gravity on the 300-foot-long boat, and its bow rose ponderously out of the water. Volumes of water sheeted off the vessel, and all manner of deck equipment tumbled away as the bow continued to climb. In only moments, the ship was entirely vertical, hanging from the anchor chain like a pendulum on a clock.

"DO I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION NOW, BOYS?" Vicky boomed to the fleet below. "ARE YOU FINALLY LISTENING TO ME?"

She swung the boat on it chain once, twice, three times. Each time it rose higher, like a person on a swing set gaining increasing momentum. On the fourth try, she accomplished her goal, swinging the boat in a full circle directly overhead. She brought it down on the largest of her floating enemies, collapsing its superstructure with a resounding BOOM. The boat folded like a beer can under a heavy foot. Bent-shaped, it slipped between the waves.

Her muscles were sore from the exertion, but they sang with pleasure as well. It felt so good to finally heft some real weight.

"DID YOU THINK YOU COULD STOP ME? OR EVEN SLOW ME DOWN?" she taunted. "COME ON! YOU DIDN'T EVEN PUT UP A REAL FIGHT!"

Vicky swung the anchor chain again, and her boat/mace came down on another vessel, blasting it into two pieces with an enormous CRUNCH.

By now, the boat at the end of her chain was in ruins, and large chunks of it had already broken away. She spun the boat in a wild, 360-degree circle, and then brought it down on the three remaining vessels, which were all conveniently arranged in a line. BLAM-BLAM-BLAM rose the frightening sound from below as the ships were reduced to scrap.

Casting her gaze around, nothing remained floating bigger than a broken lifeboat. "THERE," Vicky boomed to the horizon. "THAT IS WHAT YOU GET FOR FUCKING WITH ME!"

When Vicky rejoined her friends, her skin was flushed with the exertion of a good workout. But she was smiling. Thousands of feet below her toes, the ocean was littered to floating debris and bodies.

"Blast all of it away – the debris, the bodies, anything swimming below. I want the ocean cleared of all life, for 100 miles in each direction."

A sinister blue glow began to emanate from the hands of her three friends. Vicky smiled with satisfaction as the beams lept downward.

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