★Memorable Author: [El_Roy_1999] And Tomorrow...The World! •22pp•

[El_Roy_1999]

Here we go:

Moments later, the first table was flying at the young men.
It all had started quite harmlessly, but had quickly degenerated into insults and attacks. The men had approached the dancers and had made it clear that men like Washington were not welcome here. Washington had looked at them and asked:
"Why?"
This had prompted one of them to hit him squarely in the face. Now, if he hadn't enjoyed a couple of drinks, the whole thing might have been over in a second. After all, Washington was an excellent fighter. However, as it was, he caught the fist right to his jaw and stumbled backwards, spitting out a line of blood. He sighed and added:
"That's all the reason you got? Fine by me."
He lifted his fists, ducked under the next blow and jabbed at the young man's head, surprising him with the sudden riposte. The others howled and joined in, quickly surrounding him.
Or rather, they tried, but suddenly, one of them found himself lifted high in the air. As he screamed, the others turned around and only now realized that the dance partner wasn't just tall, she was also strong.
Holding the man above her head in her outstretched arms, she growled:
"Leave us alone. Now."
Instead of doing the rational thing, they charged, somehow feeling provoked by the sudden flare of emancipation in the ballroom. Gladys threw the man at his comrades, sending them sprawling on the ground. Meanwhile, Washington had managed to grab his initial aggressor and had twisted his arm, holding him tight. He grinned:
"Not so tough now, aren't you?"
Sadly, the management decided that it needed no brawl in here. The young men's friends also joined the fray. Oswald got up, struck the first comer with his knuckleduster and shouted at the band:
"Play is something quick! We want to dance!"
Yorkow jumped to his feet, grabbed a bottle and threw it at the first bouncer coming into sight.
This would be a night to remember.

[El_Roy_1999]

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[El_Roy_1999]

Due to the intoxication and the numerous blows they suffered, it was hard for everybody to reconstruct what had actually happened. Bruised as they were, they still seemed to have enjoyed it. Washington had a vague recollection of people trying to gang up on Gladys, only to find themselves picked up and thrown. There was a strange notion of a flying piano and of the following musical crash. Also, he thought he had kissed her at some point, but maybe that was just a fantasy.
Oswald had suffered a lot at the hand of the bouncers. He was quite certain that they were just as trashed, but he still found his arm covered in bruises and a weird pain in his leg. A visit to the medic showed him a stab wound that somebody had stitched without much talent and hesitation. Oddly enough, he had no idea how that had happened, but he could remember Gladys downing several shots of booze, which might account for the weird scenes he remembered afterwards. There was music in it, also a lot of emotion. Weird.
Yorkow had taken the opportunity and made short work of the attackers before climbing on stage and grabbing the fiddle one of the musicians had left. It had been a long time, but he had seized the opportunity and made the wood sing.
Gladys just had a monumental headache. Her head felt as if wrapped in cotton and her mouth tasted as if something had died in it. She was forced to stay in bed, angry at herself and vowing to never drink again. When Washington came to visit, however, she blushed and was unable to say why. There was a feeling, though.

[El_Roy_1999]

Before any of them could clear their minds, there was an alarm. Groaning, they clambered to the briefing room. As they sat down, they exchanged unhappy glances, hoping for a false positive. The Captain strode in and waited for them to shuffle to attention. He sighed, aware of what had happened the night before. He said:
"I'm sorry to say, but there's work to be done. Eat some aspirin, get rid of your hangover and get ready for battle."
The soldiers managed to get ready and he continued:
"The Master is on the hunt again. His troops have raided several ships on international lines and have stolen the merchandise. They have made credible threats to the sailors and they now refuse to do their jobs. France, Great Britain and the United States have offered to provide escorts for ships, but this is proving to be highly ineffectual. For now, there haven't been any killings, but the Navy is looking for volunteers to take the risk."
Oswald asked:
"What's that got to do with us?"
"The higher-ups have suggested a new line of action: As far as they are concerned, the Master is planning to establish his organization as a political entity, using Cuba as their base of operations. They plan to pressure the League of Nations to accept this by restricting trade."
"So?"
"So we need to find out about the Master."
Oswald looked at the rest of the crew:
"I don't get it."
"Everything hinges on him. The plan is to make somebody join the operation, infiltrate it and give us data on his ulterior motive."
"Didn't we settle on World domination?"
"We're not sure about that. Besides, our time is running out. We wouldn't want him to join forces with our competitors, so we need to, let's put it like a reporter: 'dig up some dirt' on him."
"So it's a spy game now?"
"Exactly."
"Now I get it."

[El_Roy_1999]

Ruth watched as the air-dock workers unloaded the cargo holds of the airships. Crate after crate emerged from the holds. Clerks were swarming around, jotting down the various contents and filing them. At the same time, refueled dirigibles took off, either to bring in new spoils or to distribute the "liberated" wares. The size of the operation was staggering. Apparently, the Master was now distributing equipment and material all over the world. She had asked why, but the explanation had turned out to be long-winded and technical. Apparently, it had something to do with helping people in need help themselves, but she found it harder and harder to concentrate. Hilde's work was excellent. Her tremendous aggressiveness allowed her to out-fight any of the sparring partners and the strength training she was putting herself through was paying off.
She now sported a thoroughly honed, rock-hard muscular body, with little to no flab. She was still lightly built to allow for the speed she craved, but the strange oriental techniques Jacob's people had taught her meant she was able to shatter bricks with her bare hands and to smash watermelons with her kicks. The last feat was especially impressive, since apparently, a head was about as hard as one of these fruit.
She had forced Hilde to join her training regimen and the older woman was responding acceptably to it. She wasn't really motivated, but Ruth pushed her and finally forced her. Hilde, on the other hand, was amazed by the effect of her psychological method. Every brutality made her even prouder. Slowly, the pair was realizing they were lovers in their own strange way.

[solitariodude]

  that last bit was certainly a twist

[El_Roy_1999]

Finally, she couldn't bear it anymore and asked:
"Master, I'm fully aware that we are now trying to help these people and that this is all furthering your plans, but I really need to fight someone."
Jacob looked up and said:
"Now is not the time. It won't be long, but right now, we are building trust. We can't show aggression outside of the liberation missions of our airships."
"That is no longer a challenge. They all surrender when they see us."
"There's a saying: Fear makes fighting unnecessary."
"Exactly. I have spent all this time to become a better fighter and now there's no one up to me."
"Rejoice, then."
"With all due respect, but wasn't your concept to employ people at what they are best at?"
The Master seemed to turn into Jacob for a moment:
"This is not what you were called for."
Ruth stood up. The other students were rather shocked. Seeing her in her full glory was impressive to say the least. She seemed to radiate an aura of domination and control.
"This is what I am now. If I do not do what I do best, what should I live for?"
The Master, his composure regained, said:
"I will find something. Trust me."

[El_Roy_1999]

Gladys, Oswald and Yorkow followed the nurse through the gardens of the splendidly beautiful and elegantly designed neurological clinic. Everything was spick and span, the lawn was perfectly trimmed. It wouldn't look out of place on a golf course. Gladys was strangely aware that her parents' mansion was nearby. She hadn't seen them in almost a year and their contact had been minimal. She occasionally wrote them letters, but everything was thoroughly censored. She was a little ashamed of her having neglected them. She'd ask Oswald whether she could visit them later on.
The group passed several men and women in wheel chairs or sitting on benches. They all wore the white pajamas and the patterned dressing gowns that seemed to be normal around here. Most of them had a calm, distant expression, which probably came from the drugs they received.
Eventually, they reached a gazebo in which a slim, tired man sat. He had just pulled out a cigarette and was fumbling with the lighter. He seemed distracted and confused. Oswald shot the nurse a look. She nodded silently.
He gave the older man a light and said:
"Sir, do you have a moment?"
The man only now seemed to realize that they were there and replied hazily:
"I have all the time in the world."
"Thank you. We're agents in charge of the Master's investigation. You appear to have been in contact with one of his companions. Can you give us any information on her?"
The man sighed, then answered:
"I wish I could. It is as if I had a black-out. Everything is gone. Everything. I woke up and I was as if I were a new-born."
"Isn't there anything you can tell us?"
"I'm sorry. I wish I could."
Oswald sighed. This was pointless. You had the Bureau's former assistant director in front of you and he was useless. What could he do? He looked around, hoping for an inspiration, when he suddenly followed the assistant director's gaze.

He'd have to ask Gladys for a big service.

[El_Roy_1999]

"I'm not going to do this. That's not what I signed up for."
Gladys was really angry. Oswald made a sign for her to keep it down.
"For God's sake, van Roithe, this isn't some game. We need him to talk, he won't, so we make him."
"Yes, fine, but not like this. Not me. Can't you hide some ... courtesan for this?"
Oswald smiled upon hearing the term. Somehow, he kept forgetting Gladys wasn't one of the boys.
"We don't have time for that and I want as few people as possible to know of this. What we're doing here isn't exactly legal and probably not too healthy for this guy. Still, we have to do what we have to do."
"But ... this?"
"You don't know it yet, but your country will ask much worse from you before this is over."
He gave her a tired and blank look. She still hesitated. He continued:
"Besides, we're going to be around to look after you. We just want him to talk, that's all."
"I can't help it, but I don't like it at all."
"I know, but we don't have much choice."

[El_Roy_1999]

Ten minutes later, Oswald and Yorkow had managed to distract the nurse and had led her away. The gazebo was now out of sight and Gladys was happy to see that there was absolutely no one around except for the creepy man she was supposed to shock back to reality. She waited for the last remains of conversation to fade, then stood in front of the meager former agent. He stared at her intently.
Gladys swallowed and said:
"You've been looking at my arms."
He gurgled:
"Yes ..."
"They are pretty big. Do you want to see them? i feel a little ashamed about them. People say they're not very womanly."
He instantly seemed to lose his cool. Gladys felt repulsed by this pathetic creature.
"No, please do. I would really like to see them."
"Are you sure? I wouldn't want you to be disgusted."
He almost choked:
"Go ahead. Please ..."
She nodded, did her best to smile and began to unbutton her uniform jacket. However, the man interrupted:
"No, please, roll up the sleeves. I want to see."
She was irritated, but unbuttoned her cuffs and began rolling them up slowly. She revealed her forearms which she already considered quite enormous for man or woman alike, then reached her upper arms. Instantly, her biceps blocked the fabric. She hated when that happened. She always felt constricted by these clothes, but these were the only fatigues they had at this size. Since she had continued her training and increased the strain she put on her muscles, she had grown even bigger. She'd have to visit a tailor soon. She mumbled:
"I'm sorry, but it's so big I can't really roll it up."
With a sudden, awkward movement, she flexed inadvertently and instantly, the seams in her sleeve popped. She cursed under her breath.
"I hate it when that happens."
His mouth was now open and it seemed to stay that way.

[solitariodude]

And now the drooling starts

[El_Roy_1999]

Gladys grumbled and said:
"I'll have to mend it." She shot him a dismissive glance. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?"
"Quite ..."
"Well, then."
She took a miniature sewing kit from her pocket and added:
"This thing is standard issue, yet the guys keep forgetting it. It's actually quite useful."
Carefully, she removed her shirt and revealed the complex contraption that was her brassiere. The assistant director's eye began to tear. She took it off and laid it out, examining the popped seam. Her hands moved quickly as she assessed the damage, then she began working, her huge muscles working in smooth elegance. When she was done, she noticed that the older man had edged closer.
He whispered:
"Can I touch them? Please ..."

[El_Roy_1999]

The tall woman hesitated. This man was disgusting in his weak, sniveling lasciviousness. The idea of him touching her was atrocious. She narrowed her eyes and swallowed her pride.
"You may."
Immediately, his quivering hands laid themselves on her enormous arm. He gasped as he followed the ridges under her skin. He mumbled:
"Please, flex it. Flex it!"
With a practiced move, she extended her arm, rolled her fist and lifted it, almost carrying him with her as she squeezed her biceps into the swollen, rock-hard ball it became when contracted. He gurgled blissfully as his fingers tried to force the incredible resistance of her body. He fumbled with it and tried to squeeze her upper arm, but to no avail. Instead of becoming exasperated, he started to drool.
Then, in a moment of complete abandon, he craned forward and licked her skin.

Instantly, Gladys exploded into fury.
She grabbed his insolent face and screamed:
"What are you doing?"
With a sudden motion, she lifted him up, his feet dangling helplessly as he rose a foot off the ground and tossed him on the hard wooden floor of the gazebo. He landed with a crash and splintering, but she was upon him. She straddled him and was about to sink her hammer-like fist into his face, when the others ran to her and tried desperately to hold her.
The dazed man gasped and said:
"No, don't stop her. Don't ... I remember! I remember!"
She hit him anyway, almost crushing his jaw.

[El_Roy_1999]

By the time the nurse had sent them away, Gladys had slipped her shirt back on, angry with Oswald for having forced her through this. At the same time, she was impressed by the effect she had on men. On one hand, this guy was clearly a distgusting pervert, on the other hand, she had noticed that all the other men shot her fascinated glances whenever they could. Well, not all men, some even seemed quite disgusted and somehow afraid of their status, but most somehow enjoyed looking at her.
The soldiers left the sanatarium and climbed in the car. Oswald asked:
"Did you get everything he said?"
Yorkow answered:
"Sure, but I'm not certain with the orthography. Your language has so few letters and there's really no telling what they're supposed to sound like."
Gladys interjected:
"Maybe we should have let some native speaker take notes."
Oswald shot her an angry glance, while Yorkow grinned. He added:
"Don't worry, I did a Berlitz course. For the army, it's always been enough."
She said:
"Give me the notes, I'll check that everything is correct."
"Have fun."
"What is this supposed to be?"
"That's a 'g'."
"My friend, that is not a 'g'. Not in a hundred years."
"Where I come from, we do them this way."
Oswald interrupted their little game:
"That's all very nice, but we have to act quickly. I'm sending a team to the house where this secretary of his stayed. Maybe they can find clues."
Gladys stopped jotting down errors and asked:
"I wonder whether the secretary was this woman we fought in South Africa?"

[El_Roy_1999]

Ruth was sweating. Even though she had adopted a thinner, ligher uniform than her usual leathers, the humid tropical weather made her feel as if she had been doused in water. At the same time, she was enjoying herself tremendously. Since she had arrived in Southern China, she had been fighting. Jacob had been true to his words. The place was a quagmire of fighting gangs, warlords and political agents trying to get the area under their control. The Master had sent her here to carve out a small island of stability, but that meant forcing the other factions into a cease-fire first. She only had a small group of elite fighters at her disposal and had already managed to make a lot of enemies.
Right now, she was breaking heads in an illegal casino one of the warlords used for funding. She had quickly disposed of the bouncers and was just jumping up on a large man in an ill-fitting tuxedo who tried to pulverize her with his fists. She wrapped her legs around his bull-neck and squeezed, all the while fighting off his attempts to free himself by sending her rock-hard fists against his hands. The colossus stumbled as she compressed his throat. She rolled herself up by her abdominals and looked at his reddening face:
"Enjoying yourself?"
The man gasped:
"I will kill you."
"I seriously doubt that. Surrender or I'll kill you."
"Never!"
"Is that your final word? Might be your last?"
She gave him another squeeze.
"Gah! I give up, please, please don't kill me!"
She hesitated. She wanted him to die. Just to prove that she could. On the other hand, he might still be useful. She lowered herself down and rolled on the floor, returning to a fighting stance. The man was gasping for air, his face still crimson. She walked to him and said:
"Swear you'll serve me."
"I swear. They told me about you. You're the Master's agent, Milady!"
"That's right. I expect you and your people to serve me well and I will guarantee their prosperity. If not, I will guarantee their burials."
Ruth squirmed internally at the corny dialogue, but this was what they expected.

[El_Roy_1999]

Later that evening, Ruth was enjoying the company of several young men and women. She had found them on one of the swimming bordellos that lay anchored on the river and were part of the growing empire she was carving out for the Master. Somehow, Hilde's treatment had unleashed all the repressed elements of her mind. It was surprising to see what she was doing now, comparing herself to her former state of mind. It felt so far away. Ever since she had joined the Master, she had become more and more confident and thus, liberated.
She grinned as a young woman, she had forgotten her name, sunk between her legs and began to lick her vigorously. For a second, she thought about crushing her skull between her thighs. The oblivious victim continued, lapping at her clitoris. In the end, Ruth let her live. She smiled as the orgasm began building in her. She gasped, still giving the woman's head a little squeeze, before rolling to her side, allowing one of the men to mount her. She had been surprised to find that she enjoyed both ways. As he rammed his cock in her, she grunted and moaned. She knew she was perfectly able to destroy each and every one of them, and this gave her a wonderful sense of superiority.
Occasionally, she made them worship her as their goddess. A bodhisattwa in a way. Not a very helpful one, but in a way ... She grunted. A bodhisattwa.