SOMEWHERE, BUT ONLY SOMEWHERE IN THE CARRIBEAN:

Naked under her form-fitting dive suit, Kiki Vale remained in the open water, fascinated by the display of whales in the midst of mating.

Her suit was gray with a hint of deep blue and she didn’t attract undue attention as she watched the beasts swim
past only a few yards away. The material fit her body tight enough to show her musculature and even her nipples which the cold seawater erected into fat nubs.

Kiki suddenly remembered why she wanted to swim this close.

Extending his penis ten feet out of the long slit in his
underside, the male rotated his massive body sideways, using little wriggles of his tail and fins to get up close to the female who used the same sort of movements, getting her featureless opening in place for the searching, tapering organ that bobbed between their bodies. Due to their anatomy, the beasts could never see what they were doing, and their despite their being warm-blooded as Kiki herself, their giant-scale efforts at sex were distant, awkward and brief.

They grunted and murmured and squealed as they ground their
giant bodies together.

Beholding all this, Kiki felt a warmth between her legs, felt a tugging in her womb. Her breasts felt warm, swelling as inner passion fired her unique physiology.

The bull’s excess semen jetted into the water in a grayish cloud as he withdrew his organ, righted his tremendous bulk in the frothy water and swam free.

Kiki watched the whales depart, thinking about what she had just seen. She felt jealous of the animals and their
freedom to come and go in the world. ICU2 owned her, putting her here in this beautiful but dangerous sea, using her as bait to lure Maxim.

Minutes passed as she bobbed there alone beneath the surface, watching the swirl of semen dissipate with the current.

Her giant breasts, filled with air-crammed pulmonary sacs, kept her safe underwater for an hour. The image of the whale’s impossibly big penis stirred powerful mating urges in her own human body and the swirl of conflicting feelings about sharing that body with someone else distracted her so
deeply she didn’t notice the raft above her when she made her ascent.

Then, she was nabbed.

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION: “A”:

Nothing was committed to a computer.

The conference was TOP SECRET.

The sound-proof room and all in it were assumed to be checked out by security. The director of ICU2 was in
charge of the briefing.

Not that he said much.

The two people in the room with him shouldn’t have been
alive to see what he revealed. But before the bombing or afterward, they were unusual individuals.

The parade of photographic slides showed the life of Kiki Vale from her conception all the way to adolescence.
Only a third of the slides showed her external form. The rest of the pictures consisted of video scan clips from the miniscule cameras inside her body. The bio-engineers had been very busy; Super-Agent Vale now had extra organs, and her natural organs had evolved, turning more efficient. Pain would abate more easily, pleasure would have added dimension and endurance, her overall energy had increased and the marvelous elasticity of her tissues would give her a body resistant to age and many kinds of injuries.

The ICU2 director was a champion at remaining vague while
appearing to say much.

His audience, which consisted of only two people (or more
accurately, the bodily halves of two people) watched and
listened passively in the dark. Indicator lights on a
cyborg form pulsed or glowed steadily while inside a compact transparent chamber, a tiny hominid figure paced with rat-like footfalls. They were barely human.

Nothing was repeated. The slides were destroyed at the conclusion of the briefing.

“May we see our daughter’s tissue sample, now?” Mr. Norbert Vale, Kiki’s father, one of the earliest successful cyborgs still in existence, spoke in a synthesized voice from a grille at what remained of his midsection.

An assassination attempt via bomb had cut him in half. What was left of him got around in a mobile, fluid-filled tank replete with filters to replace his missing and damaged organs and systems. Hairless, pale, he viewed the world through a self-cleansing bubble. Segmented tentacles allowed him to manipulate exterior objects and remote sensors gave him a 360° range of vision and hearing. He hadn’t been able to turn his head in years.

“Norbert’s right,” Mrs. Myrna Vale peeped, waiting for a quiet moment to get her two cents in. “We’ve been through so much already. Kiki is the only part of us that can live
a normal life. If she isn’t healthy and happy, we
certainly can’t be...isn’t that right, Norbert?”

Mrs. Vale had been even less fortunate. She had lived for
a while after the explosion, but contaminants added to the
bomb materials meant she would not recover. ICU2 had more
or less downloaded her mind. Enough tissues of her body had survived the deadly explosion for ICU2 to clone her, but
something had gone terribly wrong, and the new Myrna Vale had come out of the process a homunculus, only six inches
high. She rode around in a Plexiglas enclosure attached to
Mr. Vale’s bio-carriage, her tiny voice amplified by
speakers.

“Mr. and Mrs. Vale,” the director began, “The human body
is a complex machine and always will be. Modern technology
has given us the means to amplify the body’s own defenses.
If you’ll follow me....”

A stainless steel tentacle rose up in a mechanical version of the “hold it, hold everything!” gesture.

“Follow you to where?” Mr. Vale sounded cranky. “Somehow I
get the feeling our daughter isn’t here. Well, tell me, just where is she?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Vale peeped, “Where IS she?”

“Forgive me, Mr. Vale...Mrs. Vale, but our Super-Agent’s
present location is classified. Highly classified.”

SOMEWHERE, BUT ONLY SOMEWHERE IN THE CARRIBEAN:

Veteran pirate Raoul “Le Singe” Boca had his hands full.

He cursed his rough, calloused seaman’s hands, wishing they were more tender, more sensitive. The nipples he had his fingers around rivaled his thumbs in size and were amazing to look at as they bent and twisted in his rough grip.

Wanton women were plentiful in the tropics, and he’d had them, but Kiki Vale was far sweet forced into sex than a hundred other girls had been as willing participants.
Round, squat, Boca’s body was a blend of fat and muscle bound in a profoundly black skin that due to poor breeding was terrifically hairy, earning him the French name for
monkey. With his Soviet paratrooper machine gun slung over his back, Boca stood on wide-planted feet as Kiki closed her flexible mouth first on then around Boca’s stout, odd, thick erection.

Boca and this pale-skinned, giant-breasted woman he’d caught swimming in the ocean were now below decks, not in either of the berths, but just inside the galley, out of sight except for Boca’s accomplices.

Catching the voluptuous white woman was a stupendous prize, and she’d gone along without a struggle in Boca’s dirty rubber boat. The trip to the cabin cruiser was slow and
peaceful with the outboard motor revving no more than was
necessary.

Her fellow agent, Wetherby, was shot dead as he exchanged
fire with the approaching pirates.

Under the gun, Kiki had stripped, much to the disbelief of
the pirates and gotten right down to pleasing the swarthy, hirsute giant.

In a tangle of English, Spanish, French and local dialects, he encouraged the mountain-breasted American woman to take more of his wide member. Boca’s reddish glans looked borrowed from the penis of a far smaller man or perhaps it hadn’t grown at the same rate as his shaft and root which was an astounding 5 inches wide, but only 2½ inches from top to bottom. To his unending shock and delight, Kiki worked her puffy lips over Boca’s unequal girth, getting the dense black monster down into her mouth with the faintest scrape of teeth.

“White woman...you suck better than Boca’s grandma....”

Boca hadn’t dropped his pants, only loosened his belt and
drawn down his zipper, knowing the dangers of having his
short, powder-blue pants around his ankles in case something unfriendly happened.

“Chuuuuuuuuupa! Chuuuuuuuuupa! C’est magnifique! Oh man,
fucking God, eat Boca’s cock some mo’ you white bitch--shit, dat’s some super treat you give.”

Her rigorous training at ICU2 had taught Kiki to look past the repulsiveness of friends or foes and give a scummy
criminal the same treatment she would a cherished lover.

Of course, Kiki being Kiki, that training hadn’t worked.

Miniscule neural enhancers inserted into her brain at ICU2 were the only things keeping her interested in satisfying the otherwise loathsome specimen with her now.

And those little specks of super-technology in her gray matter were being pushed to their limits, blanking out years of acquired taste in men.

Unglued with pleasure, Boca the pirate shuddered, taking his hands off Kiki to rub himself in mounting ecstasy.

“God damn dis big fat belly o’ me...it’s making it
hard to see you good,” Boca growled, tilting his head down trying to see past the black, hairy mound of his stomach.

Kiki’s head, unmistakable for its white hair, had once been visible, but as she sucked the freak penis ever deeper, her
beautiful face and snowy hair disappeared under the overhang of the pirate’s heaving, sweaty gut.

“Boca no can see you no mo’ Cheri...but Boca sure can feel you....AHHHHHHHHHHHH. Oh, Mon Dieux! Dat’s ‘nuff lickin’...
now swallow Boca’s black monster. Profundo!”

Kiki did, dislocating her jaw and stretching her esophagus to take the man’s organ deep down into her gorge in a flood of saliva that dropped like horse lather on Boca’s toes.

“Dis American...she sometin’ else. She make Boca’s grandma
jealous! Open dat mouth yours, Honey. Open wide. Open wide for Boca’s ugly monster.”

Swooning, the pirate put his hands on the woman’s strong, pale shoulders. Those shoulders felt strong. In fact, she looked more than athletic. Powerful enough to put up a fight. Well, if she did, that’s what the Cubans were for.

“No girl ever been able to take big fat Boca that deep! For a fuckin’ white woman, you know you damned good. Boca like you, Cheri. Boca, he LOVE YOU! What kinda family you come from that let you turn into cock-sucking slut like dis?
You folks must be pretty fucked up, hien? If dey could only see you now!”

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION: “B”:

Mr. and Mrs. Vale, united despite the changes to their original bodies, traveled as a single unit behind the director. Mr. Vale couldn’t drum his fingers, but his nimble, stainless-steel claw clinked a fast tempo on the frame of his carriage, mimicking the tap of impatient
fingers.

*-----“I just know this crazy agency sent Kiki out some place where she can’t handle herself.”-------*

He didn’t say any of that out loud.

Inside her hamster-cage enclosure, Mrs. Vale read the text message and shook her head.

The area just ahead looking like a rifle range. The ICU2 director held up a halting hand and indicated the facility.

“We will be using live rounds for this test, of course.
Incidentally, the weapon involved in the test is the same
one currently in use by our troops around the world. It’s
big-time hardware to say the least...”

A harsh buzz signaled the major inside the rifle range.

“Initiate the test.”

The ICU2 director removed his finger from the button which connected him to the firing range. The staccato bursts of automatic weapon fire abated.

“TEST CONCLUDED.” An authoritative voice sounded over a
loudspeaker.

The Major with the assault rifle broke down his weapon as his target was removed from the range.

“Bring in the sample,” the director called.

The square yard of artificial skin looked liked ordinary, hardware-store grade neoprene rubber. Mr. Vale ran his stainless steel tentacle over the surface, marveling at the armor-piercing rounds imbedded in the material. Before he could show it over to Mrs. Vale, the sharp-pointed bullets dropped out one by one in a metal clatter, still warm to the touch.

“You used our child’s DNA to make this?” Mrs. Vale, hardly outraged, but still concerned, eyed the fleshy square of unique rubber, noting the tiny pores and the way the thick sample crinkled and stretched like human skin as Norbert
pulled and crumpled the sample.

Trained to hide his smile, the director turned in her direction.

“It’s time we stopped thinking of your daughter as just another agent, or even a human being. But as a sort of ‘vaccine’ against battlefield casualties.”

“Vaccine?” Mr. Vale screwed up half of his scarred face.

“The sample you have there is three years old and looks brand new,” the director said. “We haven’t been complacent, I can assure you both. Our latest experiments have improved this bio-engineered rubber significantly--however, our research is hitting a plateau. The applications continue to find new avenues, but as I said, the material can’t do everything we need it to do...
“We’re trying to perfect what has been named Material X---a synthetic fabric with many qualities of human flesh.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Mr. Vale asked. “Do you intend to...mutate our child to suit all these needs?” Mr. Vale asked. “Or is it my wife and I you’re planning to farm for your next breakthrough?”

“Norbert...think of what’s going on in the world as we speak,” Mrs. Vale said, “the director isn’t talking about making WEAPONS, only developing new means of keeping friendly forces safer.”

“Yup,” Mr. Vale said. “I saw the newspaper stand this
morning. Friends one day, enemies the next. You already
have my sperm banked and plenty of my wife’s eggs...”

“Norbert, honestly!”

“Now, Myrna...”

Breaking in before they could discuss it further, the director rolled his eyes.

“Mr. and Mrs. Vale, you’ve done your duty and we here certainly appreciate your...input. But now we turn to the next generation of bio-engineering.”

“Which is?”

“Another year of research--—and we’ll be able to fabricate Material X in vast quantities. Enough to augment conventional armor or replace it entirely.”

The ICU2 director took back the sample of fabric, holding it up to show the dimples from the rifle rounds were almost invisible. “It isn’t flame-resistant yet...and we’re having difficulties making it as flexible as we need to cover the variety of vehicles. There is also the problem of making this material adhere to say, the hull of a naval vessel. Obviously, we want to do more with this than make rubber rafts a shark can’t bite through. Recently, we have rediscovered a lost experiment...

“He was created around the same time as Kiki. We don’t know who his donors were, but a small part of his makeup was spliced from your wife’s DNA.”

“You mean I have a son?” Mrs. Vale squeaked. “Kiki has a real live brother?”

“Not as close as that, I’m afraid. Just a few ordinary characteristics. Probably only straight hair or height.”

“Well, what more can you tell us?” Mr. Vale asked. “You practically own our family. Have you...found a...mate for her?”

A long silence.

“Mr. Vale, I’m not at liberty to give out such information. Suffice it to say, a remarkable male specimen has attracted our attention. He’s ideologically confused, of course, but I’m confident he will warm up to Kiki, seeing as she is also genetically engineered. We are hoping this man--—well, SUPER-MAN, would be more accurate, will find Kiki irresistible—“

“Say! You’re trying to pimp my daughter, you big—“

Preservative fluid frothed in Norbert’s tank.

“Norbert! Maybe our daughter has fallen in love for the first time. You know how isolated she was growing up...how different her body was. No one took her seriously.
Kiki had phases, complexes...she’ll feel more important being in a serious relationship. ICU2 took care of us, dear. How could we deny Kiki the satisfaction of growing up to be more than a pretty face? Not that it’s any of our business, but can we be allowed to see...this...super-man?”

“Unfortunately no, Mrs. Vale. He’s with the enemy. We have only an incomplete code of his DNA. He sent it to us as proof of his existence...a sort of taunt...so much was missing, we quickly concluded he had left gaps. The omissions must hide any specialized adaptations he must have. It was our science team’s hunch that he possesses rapid healing. He is a prodigy, bred for intelligence. I can’t tell you anything else, but I can show you computer simulations of what he looks like.”

“Oh, do hurry, Mr. Director---”

“Myrna...shush.”

“By the way, Mr. and Mrs. Vale, he calls himself ‘Maxim’, maybe you’ll understand why. It’ll take a few moments for the images to print up, and please try to remember---these are only computer simulations based on an incomplete sample. Just a few moments-—“

“Ah...” The ICU2 director sat up straighter in his chair. “This is Maxim at five years of age—“

“Ohhhhhhhh...look Norbert, isn’t he adorable?”

“Sure. Cute kid. Say, why isn’t he wearing clothes?”

“Norbert! DNA samples don’t include wardrobe-—“

“Well, Myrna, they could have covered up his---“

“Here is Maxim at ten years of age...“

“Isn’t he handsome, Norbert? So straight and strong and athletic...and oh, just look at that--!”

“What IS this Maxim, Mr. Director, some kind of freak? I think he’s got faulty DNA--—will you just look at him? How does he walk around will so much-—? “

“Oh, footle, Norbert, you’re just jealous!”

“Yap, yap, yap, Myrna...yap, yap, yap.”

“And now here is Maxim at puberty--—the science team has read extremely high levels of testosterone. The muscular physique in the simulations is accurate according to...the research.”

“Wheeeeeeeew!” Mrs. Vale reeled in her enclosure, putting a hand to her cheek as she blushed. “Oh, I think Kiki will definitely want to make friends with HIM.”

“Come on, Mr. Director...he couldn’t possibly be hung like...THAT!”

“The research supports the conclusion that Maxim’s sex organs are abnormally large and active. Maxim was not a ‘dead-end’ experiment. He was made and meant to pass on his genes to a new generation. We had a pheromone synthesized from Maxim’s sample.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“When Kiki was exposed to it, her own hormones skyrocketed. She produced several ripe eggs in a single month. We had to...inhibit this reaction. But, she was smitten. We didn’t show her any of these images. ICU2 hopes that if spies obtained anything personal from Kiki, that Maxim will be similarly affected. Maxim may grow careless and let his guard down. And then, a UNION, to put it discreetly.”

“Did you hear that, Norbert? A union. Oh, God...he looks sooooooooo potent.”

“Oh, poop! I’m thinking about our little girl, Myrna...his...THING might hurt Kiki. This has got to be a joke.”

“Kiki isn’t a child anymore, Norbert. And it isn’t nice to mock people with large body parts...you know how many problems Kiki had with her figure...immature people staring and groping. Maxim must be a very interesting person. He is still growing, isn’t he, Mr. Director?”

“Maxim must be using what we call inhibitors. These micro-mechs can roam around inside his body, shutting off and turning on normal glandular functions. Again, these images are nothing more than computer simulations—“

“Well, I don’t want any horse-cocked terrorist fooling around with my daughter. Stop this mission, have Kiki recalled. Like I said, this has to be a joke!”

“I’m afraid it isn’t, Mr. Vale. And now, here’s Maxim at what we believe is his current age--—”

“Oh, God--—Maxim is COLOSSAL. Do you know his whereabouts, Mr. Director?”

“Classified, Mrs. Vale.”

“Myrna--—now what?! Do you want Kiki to get romped by some dangerous test-tube mutation?”

“Norbert, neither of us can enjoy making love the way we used to. If Kiki has a chance to be with a man and change him and help save the world, we shouldn’t be against that.
She’s all we’ve got left---our only remnant of normalcy.”

“Yeah, yeah. But Maxim’s the enemy. Dangerous.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Vale, we have trained Kiki for years to protect herself. And ICU2 has used every technique at our disposal to make sure she comes back alive and avoids being brainwashed.”

“Brainwashed, huh? Tchhh--—I don’t think it’s her BRAINS that are going to get hosed down, Mr. Director.”

SOMEWHERE, BUT ONLY SOMEWHERE IN THE CARRIBEAN:

The suction Boca felt on his penis was incredible.

Kiki’s beautiful face was masked and muffled by the overhang of the pirate’s belly; nonetheless, he saw what Kiki was doing in his delirious mind’s eye. The sucking noises were more than loud enough for him to hear, exciting his balls, making them climb as close to his root as the fat around his genitals would allow.

“Oui, oui! Keep up that suckin’, white woman...make Boca blow his load!”

She had one hand on the base of his erection, but slid her fingers away when she engulfed the last few inches and closed her lips tight around the hairy foundation of the pirate’s flesh-club. His aching, aching testicles bulged on either side of her chin, the skin stretching tight, revealing the ovoid shapes in a black web.

“Boca come three time, maybe! Boca gonna be tired.”

The knuckles of his toes cracking as they curled, Boca dipped and tottered when his orgasm hit him like a bomb going off.

Down deep in Kiki’s esophagus, Boca’s steaming semen poured in draining spurts.

Boca’s huge, long buttocks, exposed by his drooping pants, tightened and loosened in a fairly comic display. Pumping, he let the convulsions run their course and then slowly, slowly pulled his erection free of her gorge and muttered a
voodoo prayer.

Mean laughter behind him.

Two other pirates, Ramoz and Pablo stood a fair distance back, watching the big fat sea-robber do his barbaric
business with the white woman while keeping an eye on the
other boats in the vicinity.

King of Nassau was their boat now, and in true pirate fashion, they were enjoying the spoils.

Kiki.

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION: “C”:

“Director...an urgent call--—Surveillance Section.”

“I’ll take it in my office in two minutes, thank you, Miss Donatelli.”

Hurrying, the ICU2 director stepped into the office, secured it, sat and gazed up at the array of monitors suspended from the ceiling.

The micro cameras in Super-Agent Vale’s body were sending back some engrossing, but damaging images.

“Are you getting these, Director?” a patched-in female voice came over his desk speaker.

“That’s affirmative.” The director flipped open a control board on the desk. The big red button was marked ABORT, but it really meant KILL. And it could. The signal would go through with the King of Nassau equipped with a hyper
antenna to redirect the signal into Kiki’s body and detonate the explosive materials.

“Our agent is being tortured, Director.”

“Hold it, Section Chief, let’s not misread what’s going on.”

“None of the men we’ve I.D.’d match our intended target.
It’s not Maxim.”

“I can see that,” the Director said, inching his finger
closer to the deadly button, all the while aroused by the
crystal clear pictures. Kiki was more sexually charged than he ever imagined. The camera in her tongue and the other near her cervix were sending back some fantastic scenes.
“Director...do we abort?”

“That’s a negative. Repeat...a negative. This is what she was trained for. The targets with her are just punks. She has been augmented to deal with this kind of thing.”

Flipping the cover over the ABORT button, the Director sat back and watched. It was hard to tear himself away, but he had an appointment elsewhere in an hour.

SOMEWHERE, BUT ONLY SOMEWHERE IN THE CARRIBBEAN:

Grinning, the two Cuban escapees held their pistols at the ready as the boat rocked. Ramoz traded a grin with Pablo.

Dizzied by the experience, Boca wiped the sweat from his yellow eyes and checked his penis to make sure it was still attached.

“As grand as you are, I tink is time for Boca dock his black pirate ship in your cove, Cheri.”

Boca didn’t wipe the deep-throat saliva from his erection; he swirled the clinging whitish goo up and around his glans, intent on using the spit as a convenient lubricant.

“The next part little tricky, Cheri...Boca don’t know how fat your boyfriend is, but Boca’s belly gonna be on toppa yours for a while...and your titties are muy grande. Dis
no fun if we shaped like normal people. Dis gonna be
pretty freaky job, even for Boca!”

Wary of some tricks, the two Cubans behind him took a quick look around, heedless of their madly beating hard-ons.

As far as they knew, the coast was clear.

Kiki looked Boca in the eye as she reclined on the deck and parted her thighs for him.

Hawking for a full three seconds, Boca brought up some more
saliva and spat on his glans. He rubbed the white woman’s
trimmed labia majora then probed into her with his hand, finding her wonderfully roomy. He licked his fingertips free of her juices and mumbled more voodoo prayers.

Adjusting the gun on his back, he hunkered and then knelt and then scuttled forward, lining up his huge, flattened-out erection with her vertical opening. Humping his body along like an elephant seal, he got close and then docked his tiny glans well under the thrusting bud of her clitoris and pushed slowly, delving his gross organ into her.

“Cheri Blanca...Boca he goin’ in you...and dere ain’t nada you can do ‘bout it. You can scream, you want to.”

The two Cubans stole another look around and focused their
rapt attention downward at the pirate’s bobbling glutes.
As he thrust, the hairy black slabs of fat and muscles drew together, lengthening his butt-crack, making his pants slip farther down his body.

“Mmmmmmmmm—Waaaaaaauuggggggggghhhh!!!” The unsurpassable sweetness of woman flesh sealed itself around his monster like none ever had before.

Then it happened.

The neural implant in Kiki’s brain rang the lemons.
She suddenly realized where she was and what was happening to her.

Screaming in disgust, she surprised Boca who, instead of pulling back out of her, threw his crushing weight onto her, trying to wrestle her into submission.

Bio-electric currents, amplified my micro-ware in her body, made her muscles ramp up in strength. Her pliable vagina tightened around the man’s invading erection, constricting it painfully, giving Boca a few moments of unequalled pleasure before the agony started and he couldn’t pull out.

Something sharp and narrow which felt to the pirate too much like a needle not to be one, jabbed him in the bulb of his imbedded penis, parting his meatus, slithering down the length of his urethra and into his pelvis.

The pirate’s drooling mouth turned into an O.

Now it was Boca’s turn to scream, but his voice was gone.

Panicked, the black giant thrashed, sliding on his sweat-sheened limbs, unable to get up in time while the flexible weapon that had pierced his phallus to the core, drove to
the utmost. Boca miraculously withdrew his wide, freak erection, horrified to see the thing that had attacked him was still protruding from his piss-hole, lengthening as he
backed up.

Hoisting her legs, Kiki kicked him free, the lengthy tube still trailing from her void, pulsing angrily.

His peerless cock suddenly shrank to an infantile size, limp and still under attack from a long, slender tube whose other end ran freely from the white woman’s gaping vagina.

Fumbling for his machine gun, Boca was ultimately freed of the invading tube. It whipped like something out of a horror movie, spewing silvery fluid.

Boca collapsed, giving the stunned Cubans a chance to use their pistols. Pablo shot first, but the bullet didn’t penetrate her skin, sticking there like a thorn without drawing blood. Ramoz fired second, his bullet bouncing off her to hit Boca in the huge mound of his belly as he writhed. He turned over, still trying for his compact machine gun.

Kiki got it first, unfamiliar with the workings.

Pablo shot again, swearing in Spanish as the bullet came whizzing back at him, missing him. Ramoz clutched his arm and wheeled.

“Cabron!” Ramoz blasted a hole in Pablo’s forehead and turned to finish the white woman, but by then she had pitched the machine gun at him, spoiling his aim.

Kiki didn’t yet know how to reel in the outhanging tube and had to ignore it for the moment. She had other weapons and other defenses.

“Kill the puta!” Boca groaned.

Leaping like a frog, Kiki jumped into the clear, shot again by the remaining Cuban, but saved by her elastic body. She came down hard on the gunman, slamming his head against the
boat’s railing. His chin met his chest with a snap.

Boca ran his hand down his body, screaming at his bullet wound and then again, unable to find his monster penis.

He stood, his foot sliding on something. Ramoz’ pistol.
Boca reeled to the gunwale, drew on Kiki with bleary eyes, fired without effect into her balloon breasts and then turned the gun on himself, falling backward into the ocean.

THE PENTAGON:

“Well, Big D., how did the Vales take the news?”

“It doesn’t matter what they think to put it frankly, Admiral. I’m sorry--—BEN.”

“Super-Agent Vale...I hate to say it, but she seems a little...what’s the word I’m thinking of...flighty. A little air-headed. Sort of the bimbo type.”

“She wasn’t bred for wits, Ben. When the ‘honeymoon’ is over, I have a feeling Maxim will tire of her and let her go. I’ve got our pumped-up cuckoo implanted with homing beacons, inhibitors, micro-chips, GPS trackers...the works. Maxim can’t find them all or remove them all. The surgeons have modified her reproductive system to do what we want it to do--—store Maxim’s sperms indefinitely.”

“Right, Big D., right.”

“When we get Super-Agent Vale back and decide it’s safe, we give her the necessary treatments and the offspring will be a consolation prize for a hazardous mission. Fetal tissue research follows. But...we will have to assume Maxim has cloned himself already.”

“One hell of a stud, Big D., have you thought of what you’ll do if he Maxim somehow defects to our side? Or if he turns really dangerous? Seems every jackass has himself long-range nukes on his to-do list. The “blob” weapon for deflecting incoming missiles--too risky.”

“The bio-engineers have cooked something up, Ben. It’s pretty technical.”

“Technical, schmechnical...your egg-heads modified one of my nuclear subs...and now the damned thing can’t submerge!”

“That sub will submerge, Ben. When we implement our latest
ballast technology. The vehicle itself is a breakthrough, you know that.”

“Sure it deflects torpedoes, but it can’t go down more than a fathom.”

“Our egg-heads are working on making the material semi-absorbent so the submarine will submerge, with adequate ballast or not. We just need time...and privacy.”

“In that case, I don’t need to hear about it. As long as those cameras in her body are working and sending back signals we can actually see, I can get all the details I want.”

“She’s well on her way, Ben. Super-Agent Vale should have made her descent to Maxim’s installation by now. The cameras are sending clear signals...at the moment.
Any sign of trouble and we...abort. As planned, Ben.”

“You have a self-destruct mechanism built in...”

“That’s affirmative, Ben.”

“Christ...I wouldn’t have gone along with this nutty mission, you know, unless you included such a thing. I can’t have any slip-ups.
“Uncle Sam doesn’t want any bullet-proof monsters or...flying balloon people turning against him. If these two genetic lovebirds knock boots and turn out a family, then the whole world could change. Well, Big D., I’m not planning on sacrificing some super-baby on the altar of technology.”
“Off the record, our side is going to catch hell for this eventually—the fetal tissue part of it. Heh! God-damned cold war ‘preversions’ are going to come back and haunt us, Big D.”

“Super-soldiers...or super-sailors if you prefer, Ben...they were an idea cooked up by the military in the first place. You’ve got your torpedo-proof, mine-proof gunboats. For frigates with seal-sealing hulls and undetectable subs...we’ve got to have Maxim. His growth and healing characteristics will speed up production by 300%. Super-Agent Vale’s genes simply aren’t as specialized—“
“Then it’s settled, Big D., get us this stud-boy, Maxim...boil him down if you have to, but I’ve got to come through on this miracle fabric for our fleet.”

“Ben, it’s taken care of....”

“And if it isn’t, I expect that self-destruct gizmo in her to go ‘POW’ with no ifs, ands or buts.”

“Ben, I’ve seen her in action. She can perform as expected.”

SOMEWHERE, BUT ONLY SOMEWHERE IN THE CARRIBEAN:

A week later, alone and bikini-clad in the stifling interior of the newly cleaned and outfitted
cabin cruiser King of Nassau, Super-Agent Kiki Vale
restlessly brushed her hair.

The neural device in her brain was back on track again and the unpleasant incident with the pirates was a fuzzy memory in Kiki’s mind that she was certain had come from watching a movie on TV.

Wistful, she finished brushing her hair and made her report to no one in particular:

“Hello! I’m back. And since I’m telling you this, you know like, nothing big and scary happened to me while you were waiting to find out how I’m doing.

“Freddy, the agent I usually go out on the boat with, well, like y’know he wasn’t THERE this time because we argue a lot and I think he comes from some dumb country where men don’t like being told what to do by girls and stuff. Instead, this really nice, cool guy who isn’t like from some little island came along and he hadn’t really seen me do my thing with my lungs and so I had to do it right in front of him, ‘cause like, I totally HAD TO--—and he Super-Duper FREAKED OUT.

“His name was Kris with a ‘K’ and that was soooooo coooool and a kinda nice name that made me think of Santa Claus, only Kris wasn’t like Santa Claus ‘cause like Santa Claus IS nice and everything, but he’s also Super-Duper fat and old and hairy and this Kris on the boat like totally wasn’t fat and old and hairy--—I mean not totally hairy--—Kris had this nice patch of hair on his chest which is okay for a guy if it isn’t TOO out there and thick and tangled and the hair thins into a funny little line as it goes down his tummy and over his...belly-button and down...to y’know where his white trunks start...”

Pausing, Kiki stretched, embarrassed by her reflection in the mirror. She was tall, the top of her head only a whisper from the ceiling. Most of the time on the boat was
spent above decks, but the time below was a ritual of ducking through hatchways and getting up slowly from a
seated position.

A tingle of arousal ran through her pelvis, warming and
moistening her vagina. She lowered a hand to touch herself between the legs but stopped, seeing herself in the mirror.

She felt younger, looked younger. But she felt more regressed than rejuvenated. And something, a big something, was missing from her life.

Sex was part of this mission. But ICU2’s version of sex.
Willing herself to forget, Kiki sat back down, turning
away from the mirror, trying to banish her mirror image with its flawless skin and enormous breasts which dominated
her athletic figure.

She had been made this way.

Struggling to keep her mind off sex, she resumed her report, but it came back to familiar theme:

“I mean, I like...LOVE Santa Claus and everything, but I like totally would NOT want to see Santa Claus with his shirt off, especially if he’s also wearing tight trunks, ‘cause that’s like tacky and wrong and Santa Claus is almost like GOD and junk and you should only look at God naked if there’s a picture of Him in church or something.

“Anyway...Kris was y’know, ‘boating’ the boat, because it was one of those boats with a motor and not sails...and it makes me really confused when someone says they’re SAILING in a boat when it doesn’t HAVE any sails.

“Isn’t that DUMB?!

“I don’t know how Kris did it, but he parked the boat and it didn’t like go anywhere which is weird because...it just IS.

“When he left the place where the boats that aren’t boating are, I was wearing this really cool, sexy bikini, but when we got near the spot I was supposed to dive down, I had to change into a wet suit.

“I didn’t WANT to take off the bikini, but the director said the wet suit for this mission was Super-Duper special, I couldn’t wear anything underneath it.

“Well, HE wasn’t in the boat, and I wanted to wear my bikini UNDER the suit, so I tried to put the suit on OVER the bikini, y’know...and I got this really ughy, yucky, wanna-cry-like-a-baby headache and almost fell over. I got it a whole bunch of times in a row and then I broke down and cried and took off the bikini so I was...y’know...NAKED and didn’t have anything covering my PLACE or my boobs and then put the suit on and this time, the ughy, yucky, wanna-cry-like-a-baby headache DIDN’T come, so that must have been the right thing to do.

“But I want the bikini too, so I fold it up and put in a little pack and take it along...just in case.”

Sighing, Kiki shut off the recording device, finding her hand between her legs, rubbing her crotch through the bikini bottom.

Maxim was near, she could sense that, but she wasn’t ready for him.

TO BE CONTINUED

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