The tethered twin-rotor heliovator dropped in the darkness from the silent Airborne Acropolis with its sole occupant: Sheila-X, the Atomic Slut of the Broad Squad. The first part of her mission, the rescue of Sheila-9, her partner Sheila-27, and the Fay that they were escorting, was complete.
The incapacitated agents and their charge were on board being cared for by the best women in medicine. The audio-visual experts were spooling the tapes from Nine’s hidden television camera. The replacement Fay, who Sheila-X herself would escort, had yet to be chosen. The lookouts said there were no monsters in sight.
That meant that Sheila-X had about an hour to temporarily satisfy her hyper-radioactivated libido.
She leaped out of the heliovator and pressed a stud on her wrist radio to launch the car back up to the airship’s spacious gondola, suspended underneath three tremendous blimps. "I’ve touched down and am headed into town,” she transmitted.
“Roger that,” the Acropolis’ comms officer replied and the airship lifted to cruising altitude.
She stayed on the better-lit streets so the radiant pink haze that always surrounded her wouldn’t draw unwanted attention. Looking for a place without too many bystanders, she found a quiet, mostly empty coffee house. Keeping her pheromones in check with a moment’s meditation, she entered.
The place was dark except for the small stage where a guitar and bongos accompanied bad poets. She hurried toward a table near the stage where the lighting would hide her glow and asked for a black coffee.
Almost every man turned to watch her, attracted by her turbocharged pheromones. Sheila-X wanted sex and on some level, every ball-filling cock-swelling man there knew it. If she hadn't needed to be quick and keep a low profile, she would have considered taking on the entire table of likely Korean War vets, probably no older than twenty-three or twenty-four. The bongo player was the best candidate amongst the single men.
X directed her libidinous aura at him, caught his eye, and shyly looked away without looking away. He abandoned the stage and stumbled to her side with an aching erection.
“I would do anything to have you.”
“I know,” she said, touching his face. “I want discretion. Where can we go?”
“The changing room down that hall. I’ll meet you there from the backstage.”
The bongo player dashed away just as the waitress brought X her coffee. She took a sip and handed the girl a five. “Buy a new beret and forget that you ever saw me.” The Slut sauntered to the opened door to find the man presenting his throbbing, hard cock in his palm.
She spit in her hand and stroked him. “Are you sure you want to do this? I'm going to make you cum so hard you won’t be able to get it up again for a year.” She wasn’t exaggerating.
He pawed anxiously at her tight, knee-length black pencil skirt. X pulled it up above her hips, tugged her black-and-white striped tights down, and bent over a table.
Pulsating veins threatened to burst away from the taut surface of his rock-hard cock and he rubbed his tip, percolating with precum, between her hot-honeyed pussy lips. His first jab struck a spark that traversed his shaft and shocked his balls into the safety of his belly.
Sheila-X sighed and quietly moaned at the man’s savage thrusts. With her Broad Squad training, she could cum on demand, or demand when he could cum. This one was good, if not overly eager, and so she let nature dictate her orgasm.
Bongo-man fucked her ever harder, desperate to climax. Right after she allowed her own orgasm, he shot once into her cunt before a slutonium wave slammed him onto the floor where he lay with his cock repeatedly spouting into the void. “You’ll stop in a minute or two. Thanks for the fuck.” She squeezed out a glop of pink-glowing semen which sizzled on the floor until it was no more than a smoldering stain.
That orgasmic wave and the several that followed had also penetrated the walls and the rest of the men within range where they, to their wonder, unexpectedly ejaculated as well.
She pulled her tights up, left, and shouted into her wrist radio while running to the drop-off point.
~~~
Before Sheila-X, The Atomic Slut, there was a woman with a Valium habit and a fiancé who suddenly disappeared. “The Program,” she was told, would help her to cope with what they described as hysteria. The men that approached her had badges and dressed like any Federal agent on the television, only they weren’t from any government entity.
The Program was concocted by a cabal of appliance, cosmetic, and apparel manufacturers intending to create the ultimate ultra-feminine consumers: women who would spread their legs on demand and spend their husband’s paychecks. The men who conceived the project easily obtained the needed hundreds of thousands of dollars of funding.
“Every nation in the world is too busy fighting monsters,” the cabal was reminded. “Nobody will pay any attention to what we’re doing until it’s too late.”
The world was indeed fighting monsters. Gojira stomped Tokyo four years ago, in 1954. Top Minds debated as to whether the monster that the West dubbed Godzilla was awakened by nuclear test blasts or if those blasts’ radioactivity mutated some innocuous creature back into a prehistoric state. The consensus was that it couldn’t happen again, and so the saber-rattling atomic tests continued.
Most of the new California Island’s taller structures crumbled after the accidental explosion of the San Andreas bomb. Then, Los Angeles was stomped by its own giant amphibian, which was simply referred to as “The Beast,” not long after.
The woman who was designated as “X” grasped the back of her hospital gown while walking with a group of men wearing starched white lab coats or expensive black suits.
The room was stuffed with the blinking lights, clacking sounds, and reeling tapes of several computer banks, each performing almost a thousand calculations per second. Four operators sat in front of a console with hundreds of lighted switches. In the middle of the room was a six-foot upright steel platform with a huge, uncomfortably close columnar device aimed at it.
The twenty-foot glass Wenmore-Kestinghouse Fem-a-tron hung from a high ceiling with hundreds of wires leading to the console and the computers. A low base hum and the flashing lights from several torus rings that lined its twitching shaft meant that the device was turned on.
“Please disrobe,” they told her. When she hesitated out of modesty, they assured her that their sunglasses prevented them from seeing her in a state of undress. The lab-coated men strapped her to the platform without apologizing for how cold it was and tipped it back at a forty-five-degree angle with her feet in the stirrups.
From there, she noticed a picture of then-Vice President Nixon on the wall and thought it odd that there wasn’t one of President Eisenhower. Of course, not long after, Nixon did become president after Eisenhower’s assassination.
A ball gag was placed into her mouth. She closed her eyes and held her breath as they smeared her vaginal opening with jelly and inserted a long white tube. “Test the beam focuser,” someone with a clipboard said, and test subject X squeaked a muffled exclamation when it vibrated.
A technician opened the twin spherical chambers at the base of the Fem-a-tron and used tongs to carefully hang sacks of refined slutonium, the radioactive material that made the Fem-a-tron possible.
The lab coat with the clipboard nodded at a black suit who nodded in return.
“Commence slutification!”
The humming got louder and the rings’ lights flashed from white to pink, lingering pinker after each iteration. The shaft repeatedly drew back and thrust forward with increasing speed as it drove the crackling magnetic moment of the slutonium radiation.
At first, the sympathetic vibrations of the beam focuser that was wedged between her legs led X to believe that this would not be an unpleasant process. Then an overhead light swung to red and a klaxon sounded.
“What’s the problem?” a suit asked.
“The pressure is building too fast.”
The Fem-a-tron's shaft thrust faster and more lights stayed pink.
“Slow it down!”
“I can’t! It’s too close!”
“Redirect resources!”
“It’s drawing power faster than we can subvert.”
“It’s off target!”
The whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of the shaft wobbling between the rings got louder and faster.
“Re-aim!”
“I’m trying!”
The first premature ejection of slutonium plasma from the bulbous tip struck the woman squarely on her face, followed by two more on her chest as a technician physically grabbed hold of the Fem-a-tron's pulsating shaft to jerk it into place. He was shocked loose when a blast of the feminizing particles enveloped him which, to everyone’s amazement, didn’t make him any less of a man.
“We’re on target!”
A beam of pure slutonium radiation struck the focuser and the woman screamed through her gag as bones vibrated apart and instantly reset themselves. Her legs lengthened and her hips widened. Pain was replaced by discomfort as her breasts swelled and lifted from her chest with pert nipples that followed you across the room. Her rump rounded and a four-pack formed at her newly waspish waist.
Discomfort was replaced by pleasure. The woman moaned and shifted herself to get the beam to hit her just right. “Yesh!” she slurred as saliva dripped from her open mouth and evaporated in the steamy pink haze that was swaddling her.
“What’s she doing?” one of the clueless men asked.
She thrust her hips to meet the beam head-on, moaning as it penetrated her, causing a feedback wave. Watching her skin glow quite literally through the radioactive slutonium haze almost distracted the men from their growing erections.
Her climax set the haze ablaze and she emitted her own violent slutonium wave, shattering the device and making every man there cum in his pants. Too weak to stop her, they could only watch helplessly as she freed herself and fled.
“It’s not my fault that the machine erupted so quickly,” the clipboard-man said. “It happens to a lot of scientists.”
Several undergarment manufacturers withdrew their support from the cabal’s project. “Women who look like that will only drive us out of business!”
Once the Broad Squad heard the news about a woman who glowed in the dark and left a trail of impotent cum-pliant men behind, they recruited, nurtured, and trained her to become Sheila-X, the Atomic Slut!
~~~
Sheila-X returned to the investigation of Sheila-9's downfall, rewatching with disbelief the television tape that Nine’s camera recorded.
“Sheila-9 had been trained by the best,” X noted, “and yet even she was overwhelmed by his distilled masculinity. Is Sheila-27 on this recording?”
“Wait and watch.”
The original plan was for the Broad Squad to double-team this reputed Soviet menace known as the Red Rogue. The Fay that she was guarding, Fay-Twelve, was found as a quivering mess, begging to be fucked again. Nine’s partner, Sheila-27, was not in the view of the camera. “Nine had no choice but to take him one-on-one,” the captain said.
Fucking a man down was Sheila-9's specialty. She wasted no time and tugged at the hidden strands that made her skin-tight Fiber-K bodysuit fall away and compact itself into her wristband. The super clingy, super stretchy fabric and her futuristic silicone breast implants had been custom-designed just for the Squad.
As she stood there wearing nothing but Fiber-K thigh-hugging boots, matching fingerless arm-length gloves, and glistening pubes, she watched as his own formfitting outfit was sucked into a similar band.
“He’s gorgeous,” somebody said.
And familiar, X thought.
They watched Nine scrutinize her masked opponent from his broad shoulders to his tapered waist to his small, round glutes. His muscles were defined, and his skin was flawless and mostly hairless.
The Broads’ eyes tried to take all of him in but his cock demanded the most attention. It lifted and wove like a large snake that was ready to strike; they half-expected it to hiss at Sheila-9.
“He’s a mutant,” the Atomic Slut said under her breath. Like me.
“I don’t care how good you smell or how impressive your cock is, I’m going to fuck you into oblivion and take you in!” Sheila-9 was heard on the tape.
Normally, those wouldn’t have been empty words. The original Broad Squad was a collection of women FBI agents who Hoover fired in the nineteen-forties. They were scooped up by another clandestine government organization until they went rogue and a wealthy benefactor known as “HGB” funded them.
Their abilities went beyond elementary seduction and garnering information from pillow to pillow. Their bodies and minds were sexual weapons. While the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, the way to his mind and soul was through his cock. Controlling one head controlled the other.
Sheila-9 taunted him on all fours, wriggled her butt, and with a sultry voice said, “Come and get it, tiger!” He was on her and in her with a single pounce, pounding her pussy from behind. An involuntary moan escaped her throat as his strong, sinewy cock slithered in and out of her muscular cunt.
The Slut and the Broads watched her rock back and forth to match his thrusts. “Look at her face already!” the captain exclaimed. “Can he really be that good that quickly?”
Nine’s moans came closer together and louder. She vigorously shook and tried to crawl off, but he grabbed her hips and thrust harder.
“Yes!” she shouted to the dismay of those watching.
After only a few more terrible plunges, Sheila-9 fell forward, panting, with blue-black spunk leaking from between her legs.
“Did she cum? I couldn’t tell!”
Nine lay panting on her belly. “I won that round, Monster!” She turned to see him grin beneath his mask. Next to his limp cock grew a second, just as hard and throbbing as its brother had been. Scared yet determined, Nine rolled over and spread her knees. “I don’t care if you have a dozen of those!” She felt the limp cock bounce against her thigh as the second one impaled her.
Initially, she steeled herself against his fiery onslaught but she yielded to the ecstasy all too soon. Before she could counter his moves, he changed his pitch and rhythms and without losing a thrust he made her climax again before her previous orgasm could subside.
She gathered her wits and used every trick in her cunt to bring him to climax and it worked; he withdrew his darkly-stained limp cock.
Sheila-9 considered whether to fight or flee when she was distracted by Sheila-27 crawling toward them. “More, more, more,” Twenty-seven croaked. Nine turned again to the Red Rogue and watched as a third compelling cock sprung from his loins. She understood then what her sister meant. “More,” she whispered.
“No!” the Broads watching the television implored, but they already knew what the outcome would be. They watched in horror as Sheila-9 succumbed to orgasm after orgasm until her opponent roared and short-thrust his inky essence into her.
He pulled out and stood, watching their fluids flow onto the ground. He nudged her with his foot and trudged away, no longer interested in this quivering, spiritless toy.
~~~
The Fays were women with exceptional, natural empathic abilities who could soothe monsters like their namesake did, and guide them away from populated areas. The first discovered Fay was as an early member of the Broad Squad, and The Squad subsequently sought and recruited more of them.
The replacement Fay walked onto the bridge of the Airborne Acropolis and presented her credentials to her captain. “Welcome aboard, Fay-O.” This Fay’s designation was unusual. The others were numbered, as were most Sheilas. Lissome Fay-O was in her early fifties and carried herself like a Hollywood star, wearing the Fays’ uniform gown of figure-flattering, white, flowing, fairy-like fabrics.
“’O?’ As in, the original?” First Officer Sheila-56 exclaimed.
“I’m just me, dear,” she replied, calming the Broad with her voice and mind.
“I’m so excited to meet you,” she said with more reserve.
“Show Fay-O to her cabin, Fifty-six,” the captain ordered. “Fay, once you’re settled we’ll have you see to our stupefied agents. Then we’ll meet in the War Room.”
~~~
Fay held her sister’s hand and felt what she felt. “She was overwhelmed by his lust and…his scent?” Fay-O looked at Sheila-X. “His pheromones. Primal. She might have been able to control herself, maybe even dampen his radiating lasciviousness, but she was caught off guard. There’s something else…curiosity? No. Awe.” O gasped a drawn-out breath. “The pleasure…the fuck was good, so very, very good.”
“What do we do to help her and the others?” Sheila-X asked.
“Fay-12’s mind is already reaching for mine. Once I help her recover, we will work together to bring back Sheila-9 and Sheila-27. They have strong sexual psyches, too strong to let a little cum weigh them down.”
Sheila-X still had the oddest feeling about the Red Rogue and took the captain aside to review the tapes again. “Stop there!” she shouted at the A/V technician and squinted at the screen. She asked for a magnifying glass and verified the heart-shaped birthmark above his left pec.
“I know who he is…was…” X blinked back a tear. “His name is Julian. He disappeared six months before The Program slutified me. He was my fiancé, and I know how we can stop him.”
~~~
The Rogue wasn’t hard to track down and the Airborne Acropolis quickly jetted there.
“Are you sure that Sheila-9 and Sheila-27 are up for this? We have several other Sheilas on board who haven’t been compromised.”
“Captain, I assure you that these Broads are the best choices,” Fay said. “They are familiar with the target and are no longer compromised in any way. Along with extensive masturbation therapy, Fay-12 and I empathically reinforced that they, and not some man-monster, are responsible for their orgasms.”
“Nevertheless, I’m keeping Sheila-56 on standby.”
Sheila-X was the first to come down the heliovator. The briefings from Nine and Twenty-seven didn’t begin to describe how effective his pheromones were. Her atomic pussy juices began to trickle out but that was okay with her – she liked it that way. She only needed to inhale once to know for sure that this slavering monster really was Julian.
She retracted her uniform, stood naked-ready wearing only her thigh-high boots and gloves, and wafted a small sample of her own formidable femininity toward him. He snorted, snarled, and turned at her.
“I fuck!” he growled and stripped himself down to his boots. His pythonic phallus transformed from rock hardness to throbbing flesh and back again.
Sheila-X called him by name and tried to reason with him but his only response was several cock-shots of inky goo which she easily dodged. “He’s not rational. Bring down the Fays,” she said into her wrist radio.
X surrounded herself with a pink slutonium aura as she leaped into the Red Rogue’s arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. His focus was entirely on her then, as she expected. “If my pussy feels as good to you as your cock does to me, we’ll be doing this for days!” she taunted and ripped the mask from his face.
“Your eyes!” she huffed as he thrust, staring into black, lifeless fish eyes. “My God, what did they do to you?”
His only possible answer was to thrust harder and faster. X clung to his neck and hung on for dear lust. As much as she loved and respected the other Broads, she came to understand how they had been broken.
The rest of the angelic team quickly descended from the airship.
“Sheila-9 stands naked and ready,” the first Broad declared with her hands on her hips and her bodysuit whisking itself away.
“Sheila-27 stands naked and ready,” her partner echoed in only her boots and gloves.
The empathic Fays shielded them all from the monster’s carnality and showered them with confidence and love.
“Sheila-56 stands ready on board,” the captain declared, “as do the rest of the crew of the Airborne Acropolis! We have our cameras trained on your position. Go fuck the monster over, Broad Squad, and Godspeed!”
“Fifty-six, put your clothes back on,” the captain’s voice was heard before the com-link was broken.
The Fays guardedly approached from a distance to contain the monster by quieting it with empathically projected peace, even as Sheila-X provoked the man with an emphatically protracted piece. The other Sheilas distracted him by enticing him to relinquish one fuck in favor of another, and the surrounding four encroached from a distant yet ever-tightening circle.
Even as his first cock depleted itself, his second emerged, arose, and plugged her barely abandoned box. Sheila-9 and Sheila-27 heard and felt the siren call of his phallic aberrations but stood their ground, waiting for their cue.
Despite being the best back-to-back banging she’d had since becoming The Slut, X resisted his pheromonic calls to cum and unceasingly denied her own orgasm, edging herself until the time was right.
Sheila-X rocked them over and onto his back where she took control of the cadence and pace, blocking his repeated attempts to grab her bouncing boobs with repeated slaps to his hands, arms, and face. The diversion worked and she forced another nut to bust.
Out of breath, the Rogue squeezed his eyes and some of the blackness in them faded.
“Julian?”
The monster-man huffed and rolled Sheila-X onto her back. When his third cock erupted, she baited and teased him. X lifted her ass from the ground and rubbed her slit against his shaft but thwarted entry with her atomic cock-blocking muff muscles. “Do it!” she finally cried out and opened wide.
He gasped louder than she did as she dominated the previously indomitable monster meat. With amazing athletic skills, The Atomic Slut countered his thrusts, rolled, and pivoted so that she was again the top, making him watch her ass shake and quake every time she dropped onto his groin.
The rumbling in his cock warned her that he was about to cum and she leaped away at the last second. His face and chest were soon coated with layer upon layer of his blue-black spunk.
Both the Rogue’s toxicity and his stamina were weakened by the rapid back-to-back-to-back ejaculations and he collapsed. He was able to think more clearly and feel more human, which was evident to the Fays, one of whom empathically quashed his monstrous half while the other fished his human side out from the depths.
Sheila-X suspected that he wasn’t totally spent and waved her cunt over his face. Sure enough, a phallusified tongue snaked out of his mouth and into her radio-overactive twat. She didn’t know what the monster within liked, but she knew what the man Julian did – it was time for phase two.
X repositioned herself, leaving his tongue thrusting and twisting between her legs so that she could jam a finger into his backside. His mutated prostate was just as responsive if not more than she remembered. The dick tongue in her pussy and the three cocks between his legs instantly responded.
The Broads saw her hand signal and sprung into action. Shelia-9 and Sheila-27 each swallowed a cock and Fay-12 sucked on his third. The Red Rogue bellowed when Sheila-X's pussy spit out his tongue but he was stifled again when Fay-O sat on his face and took it between her cheeks.
The Atomic Slut opened a padded case to retrieve the specially designed double-ended glass dildo, one with embedded lenses to concentrate her slutonium rays. She strapped it on and the team maneuvered him into position so she could piston the glass dick in and out of his welcoming bowels.
X’s denied orgasms swirled within her libidinal energy force as she fucked her former fiancé. Her pink slutonium aura glowed stronger and emanated farther away from her body than it ever had before. Her eyes first glowed pink and then a violent violet.
“Cum in the hole!” she shouted to warn the team to run and take cover. The dildo lasered her orgasmic radiation waves directly into the man-monster, causing four simultaneous powerful and drawn-out ejaculations. The pinkness enveloped him and then faded as he collapsed into a pool of his disintegrating spunk.
The team raced to the Slut, who had unstrapped the dildo and warned them that it was still too hot to touch. The near-dead Rogue’s head was in her lap.
“Peg?”
“Yes, Julian, it’s me. It’s Peg.”
“Where am I?”
~~~
Julian was never a Soviet agent. He had disappeared when a covert US agency recruited him as a spy and to seduce women who had influence over influential men. They promised that he would be financially set for life, which appealed to the man engaged to the perfect woman.
However, they never told him that the process to make him irresistible involved radioactive proto-squids. As planned, his modified body produced such uber-masculine pheromones that women dropped their panties after the slightest whiff. However, after the first test subject succumbed, a monster was born inside of him.
His squid eyes were the most noticeable change until he became aroused. His four limbs and already impressive appendage were complemented by two additional writhing cocks between his legs and one in his mouth. The woman who volunteered to be his first test subject was left incoherently begging for more.
Once aroused, the monster was hard to control and so they kept him sedated unless he was needed. Julian Fisher no longer existed and the government agents were more than happy to let the Soviets take the blame for the villain that the newspapers had dubbed as the Red Rogue.
Thanks to the intensity of Sheila-X's slutonium wave, the monster was quelled enough for the Broad Squad’s scientists to break the monster loose from the man. X was glad that he kept his extra cocks but broke off their engagement anyway in favor of her career.
The crew of the Airborne Acropolis celebrated their victory. Fay-O enjoyed her time back in the field so much that she took a sabbatical from teaching. The Broads and Fay-12 were given time off before their next assignment: giant crawfish encroaching New Orleans.
“Your name is ‘Peg?’” Sheila-27 asked.
“It was. Why?”
“I was thinking about the coincidence, you know, considering…”
The revelers laughed at the realization and the Airborne Acropolis sailed into the sunset.
