Mother In-Law – Security Guard (JIMP#22)

Mother In-Law & night security guard destroys a couple of intruders

I wanted to show my mother in-law show the full extent of her awesome leg strength.

The following story contains descriptions of sex and violence. If this offends you or if you are under the legal age of consent in your country do not read on. Any likeness to anyone dead or alive is purely coincidental.
(c) JIM P 2010
Two figures in black fatigues carrying heavy backpacks and wearing night vision goggles emerge silently from the dark desolate wood under the cover of darkness. Moving stealthily, they gain the cover of an old WWII pillbox. Once the simple squat concrete fort had been used to keep watch for German Commandos. Tonight the men in black use the abandoned relic to examine the facility it was once designed to protect.

Time was of the essence. The rest of the squad were engaged in a firefight pinning down a U.S. Black Ops team a few miles to the North on Dartmoor. Already the Devonshire Police had been instructed to close the surrounding area and keep away the Public under the cover of a ‘training exercise’. There had been reports that the USAF had taken off from Mildenhall, which meant paratroopers could be here soon unless the RAF could intercept them. The stakes were high; this was deteriorating into an ‘International Incident’. The U.S. President had given the British Prime Minister the cold shoulder over the activities on British soil but neither knew the real reason for this conflict.

Operating under radio-blackout, Mark could recall The Evil One’s screech ringing in his ears. “For God’s sake, get in there and destroy it before the Yanks get there. Do whatever it takes”. Although they had memorized the layout from maps and aerial photos, seeing the place from the ground gave a completely different perspective. Consisting of a seemingly haphazard arrangement of simple low brick buildings with asbestos corrugated roofs, the facility would be familiar to anyone who had seen a British forces base dating back to WWII. Long abandoned by the military since the 1970’s, a scrap merchant now used the site; the weeds and the elements had taken their toll. However what they want is beyond human sight.

There is an open expanse of ground between the pillbox and the nearest buildings. With a clear night sky and a full moon, any attempt to cross it was likely to be seen by any observer.

“Security guard at 4’o clock” Brad’s voice caught Mark’s attention. “Female. Squat and fat. Civie. Take her out. No witnesses” Brad told him, unnecessarily. The guard was heading away from their location. Stealthily they crossed the open ground to the closest building then split up. Keeping to the shadows of the derelict huts, Mark quietly followed the direction that the guard had taken. Seeing the beam of her flashlight lighting up an area just around the corner of a building ahead, he moved more cautiously. Peering carefully around the corner, he spotted her standing a few yards away faintly illuminated by the moonlight looking around with her torch.

With his night vision, he agrees with Brad’s assessment. Wearing a dark jacket and knee length skirt, the woman stood around 5’1″, and cut a bulky figure. From the back, a short thick neck merged into broad drooping shoulders from which her uniform jacket hung in straight lines down a shapeless wide back with very thick arms. Below the jacket, a knee-length skirt hung straight from very broad hips suggesting equally thick legs with short very large calves at the bottom and low-heeled shoes. As she turned, he caught a glimpse of a long broad chubby face with ruddy complexion, a double chin and a sort of matronly look. Her nose was large and thick, her cheekbones prominent, her mouth medium wide. Short almost shoulder length dark curly hair exposed a high forehead. Late fifties he guessed. If she was working a night shift, she couldn’t have young kids at home. He would be doing the National Health Service a favour by taking out this fatty.

The woman moves on with Mark trailing. Although she appears harmless, he has been trained to be cautious and not take things for granted. The way Vanessa should have in Paris [JIMP#14]. He pushes the extraneous thought to the back of his mind. He watches as she enters a more intact looking hut with light blazing out of the windows. Removing his night vision and backpack, Mark silently moved to the door and looked in. Obviously the guardroom; sparsely furnished with a few desks and chairs. With a note of unease, he spots a bank of black and white monitors lining one wall in front of a desk. CCTV They could have been caught on tape. They will need to be destroyed. The fat woman is standing in front of a large window at the side of the hut overlooking the front gate to the site. She had removed her jacket to reveal a crisp white blouse that stretched awkwardly over her extremely wide large figure. Large pendulous breasts stretched the blouse, but that didn’t appeal to Mark.

Repulsed, he sees the folds of her double chin and her greying hair. Her hips are very wide and her large backside stretches the top of her skirt tight. He also notes how the rest of the skirt is tight across the back of her thighs. Below this are wide thick powerful diamond shaped calves covered in sheer black nylon tapering down to her ankles and low-heeled shoes. She might have developed those monsters from carrying all of that weight around. However the big solid slabs of muscle looked weight trained and that aroused suspicion.

The experienced soldier makes a snap decision. Take her by surprise and slit her throat. Moving silently and swiftly he sneaks up behind his prey. Suddenly the squat woman turned driving a large fist hard against his gut. Mark was well trained and instinctively tensed his six-pack abs to take the blow. “Nnhhgarrh” his body was propelled backwards across the room by a shocking force, his abs failing to fully protect him. Mark knew that he could take a punch in the gut without batting an eyelid, with one exception. That was another mature woman, the fearsome Dragon who could smash through his muscled defences with ease leaving him a gasping whimpering wreck. Now another mature woman, a civilian, had almost done the same.
Paula stared at her reflection in the window. The bulky figure reminded her that it was only a few years ago that she had been so obese that her doctor refused to treat her. She had tried all sorts of faddy diets before only to lose a few pounds then pile it back on again soon after.

Getting up the courage to check out the local branch of a popular gym chain, she ended up on the opposite side of the street watching the people going in and out. All of them were young, not one anywhere near her age and none were seriously overweight. “If you’re after a gym, I wouldn’t bother with that place. It’s overpriced and people only go there because they think it’s the fashionable place to be seen” a posh woman’s voice spoke from behind her. That was when she met Lady Helen Windthorpe.

The tall, beautiful elegantly dressed woman made a striking impression dressed in a pale green Italian designer dress suit with her brown hair tied back in a tight bob and wearing designer sunglasses. Sitting in a red open topped Ferrari in an adjacent parking bay, she offered to take Paula to a better gym that would help her lose weight. “It’s small and private for a few select women only. I encourage all my female staff to use its facilities for free. Hop in and let me show you”. Thrilled by the prospect of a ride in an expensive fast car, Paula agreed.

During a hair-raising drive at breakneck speed down narrow roads, Paula was asked whether she was looking for work, which she was. “Were you ever in the armed forces” Lady Helen then asked. “I used to be in the RAF for a while. A ground support role” she had answered. “So you weren’t combat trained?” the elegant woman asked loudly over the air rushing over the windscreen. “Actually I took up Jujitsu. I was quite good at it” she replied. “Excellent”. The exhilarating drive halted at an ex-army base now home to a scrap dealer.

The security guard at the gate let her drive in. “This is one of my ventures. There’s a lot of money in scrap metal. Men run this on my behalf but I like to have women I can trust to keep an eye on them and guard the place” Helen told her. “I could really do with a night security guard. You would be perfect after a bit of training”. Paula was flattered, she could do with the money but she couldn’t see herself as a security guard and said so. “Nonsense. Nothing a bit of training won’t put right”. The gym was located in a small low hut away from the entrance.

She wasn’t convinced until she was introduced to Cynthia who ran the gym. She was about the same age with a similar bulky looking build although taller. Then she stripped off. Paula had seen pictures of women bodybuilders and couldn’t understand why any woman would want to look like that, but Cynthia’s body was amazing with powerful arms and legs, a hard stomach but undeniably feminine with a dramatic curvy hourglass figure and large firm breasts. “Do you want me to help you build a body like this?” Cynthia asked her big breasts swelling as she flexed two huge solid peaked biceps. “Oh yes please” Paula replied without hesitation. She loved the idea of being strong and sexy like her with no flabby bits. “Excellent. Cynthia can also arrange for you to take a refresher in combat training then you can become my night security guard” Lady Helen had said.

Paula recalled with pride how quickly her large body responded to the weight training and the nutritional diet given to her. Although she lost weight, most of the fat turned to solid dense muscle, which she was immensely pleased with. Her large wobbly overhanging stomach tightened and got flatter and harder. The thick fat arms got harder and stronger. She was stunned at how her grotesquely fat legs transformed into awesome pillars of muscles that had many of the other women green with jealousy. Her jujitsu skills quickly came back, she particularly enjoyed throwing the young women around the mat so much that the instructor got her to take up karate to give the poor girls a break and to improve her flexibility.

She enjoyed working out at the quiet little gym so much that she spent much of her day there. There were other women who used the gym, of all ages from all walks of life. She was surprised to see the local Militant Wing of The Salvation Army work out there. Paula had once been in the Army but had never heard of them. Watching them made her enlist straight away.

Some of the women, including Cynthia wore Indian goddess necklaces. When she asked Cynthia about this, she was told that they belonged to a secret sisterhood of strength. “Not just physical strength or strength in combat skills. Sexual strength as well. The power to completely dominate a man physically, in combat and sexually as well” Cynthia said with a saucy smile. Paula always thought herself good in bed. “I’ve never had any complaints in that department” she said. Cynthia took her to visit an elderly Indian woman. In stunned disbelief she watched as a skinny old wrinkled white haired hag took a young man inside her and kept him moaning non-stop with pleasure for over an hour. “Very strong Yoni. Tantric sex keep lover faithful and satisfied” she said. In broken English the woman described the techniques she was applying. Methods that sounded impossible but the look on the boys face convinced Paula that she was telling the truth. In the end the boy passed out from sheer exhaustion. “You like? I’m 6th Dan black belt in marital arts”. “Please teach me” Paula said instantly. “Only for sisterhood” the old woman told her. “You watch”. The old crow took a 10p piece and presented it to her vagina where it was gripped and pulled inside. “Watch” she said pointing to the wall. The woman seemed to relax and Paula was astonished to see a streak of silver shoot across the room towards the wall and a thud as something hit it. Paula was staggered to find the coin buried so deep within the plasterwork that it’s top edge could not be gripped. “Break penis like that” the old woman laughed. Paula was eager to begin her rites of passage into the mysteries of the Sisterhood!.

Then came the interest about her son in-law Jim Priest who had become a private detective. Cynthia had returned after some time away and asked Paula to use her relationship to keep a close watch. She also mentioned how much Jim appreciated a powerful woman like her [JIMP#8] although Paula didn’t understand that comment until she confronted Jim in the basement of Bristlingdown Manor. She remembered how lustful Jim became when she showed off her powerfully built body and how turned on he became when she physically dominated him [JIMP#13]. His desire was contagious and she ended up demonstrating her strong love muscles on his ardour (she was only a white belt in that department). Afterwards she abandoned the mission, deeply ashamed at causing Jim to be unfaithful to her own daughter. However she couldn’t stop dreaming about how he had worshipped her and fantasizng about other things they didn’t do. Although most men were put off assuming she was still obese, she had no trouble finding admirers. However, once she removed her clothes most were scared witless by her mighty physique, and those that weren’t didn’t return after sampling her lovemaking skills.

Temptation became too much when she recently stayed with her daughter and Jim. They were alone in the house; Jim was working from home in the box room at the front. She was in the back spare room, knowing that it was wrong but she was a highly sexed woman and kept thinking about the passion she had previously aroused in her son in-law.

Standing by the bed in full view of the open doorway, she looked towards the window wearing nothing but her bra and briefs. Jim was in the bathroom and she knew that he would see her as he left. Hearing his footsteps, she began some calve raises letting him have full view of her large thickly muscled double diamonds. Pleased to hear his breathing get heavier, she said, “Come in dear and talk to your mother in-law. It’s ok, I’m sure you’re not bothered about an old woman in her undies”.

Still he hesitated so she gave him both barrels. Lifting both arms she brought them down into a mighty double-biceps knowing he would get full sight of those monsters and her broad back. “Oh my god” he moaned softly. She heard him come up behind her, then felt his hands explore her mighty peaks. “They’re amazing” he gushed in awe “They’re much more defined and I’m sure they’re bigger”. She felt his hands run across her back. “Wow absolutely amazing back. It’s like a contour map of some very rugged country. Incredible”. Standing close behind her, his lips began gently kissing her neck as his hands roamed over her upper body.

Reaching around, Jim’s hands fondled the soft pillows of her large breasts through her stiff bra. “Oh god you really turn me on” he mumbles between kisses. “You wouldn’t know what to do with them” Paula said. Feeling his way down to her stomach, she felt his fingers run over the ridges and grooves. “Oh my word!” he gasped, “You’ve now got a six pack and so deep cut”. “Careful you could break your hand on that, love. I’m built like an outhouse but with added comfort” she cupped and lifted her breasts for emphasis.

Jim’s hands disappeared behind her back and for a moment Paula didn’t know what he was doing until she heard the distinctive sound of a trouser fly being unzipped. She gasped, as she felt something warm and hard slip down the back of her panties between her buttocks. “That’s a nice surprise for your mother in-law, Jim” she said excited with the effect she was having on him. Unclasping her bra, Jim’s hands re-appeared cupping and fondling her breasts as they spilled out unrestrained. “They’re so big” he moaned. He was breathing more heavily, kissing her neck with more passion and dry humping her. Paula flexed her glutes several times around his erection. “Ohhh Paula you make me so hard” he cried passionately.

Removing the stiff manhood from her knickers, Paula turned around to face her son in-law. Looking up at him, she lifted her arms and flexed her mountainous peaks. Her powerful pectorals raised her huge breasts forming vast double mounds with a deep cleavage that no heterosexual man could resist. “Phoar!” Jim moaned. “Never mind my tits, what about this pair of whoppers”. “They’re incredible” Jim exclaimed bending forward to kiss and caress her mighty guns.

Bending at the knees, she slipped one arm between his legs then effortlessly lifted him. Holding Jim horizontally in front of her, face up, she began to curl him. “I used you as my human barbell before. I’ll do it again. That is my right as your mother in-law” she told him as she curled his body towards her then lowered him. “This mother in-law can do whatever she likes to you because she is strong and you are weak” she curled him easily without any visible sign of exertion. Jim, however, was showing a very visible sign of appreciation. “I’m physically dominating you, son in-law, and there is nothing you can do to stop it” she said, cherishing the reaction on his face. “I will sexually dominate you too”. At that she curled him towards her bringing his crotch to her face. His stiff rod entered her waiting mouth, which closed around it. As she curled him away from her, his dick left her mouth in a long suck, popping from her lips with a wet pop. “Ohh” he moaned. Paula was enjoying this. She continued curling her son in-law sucking his dick each time at the top of each curl. “Ohh ohh”. She was driving him crazy. “Ohh please suck me off” he begged. Plop “I give the orders around here Son in-Law” Plop!. “Ohhhh Paula ohhh”. He was getting harder by the second. Her power to drive her son in-law wild with desire and keep him helpless from doing anything about it was making her very horny.

At the top of the next curl, she altered her hand position and pressed him high over her head. Looking up at him as she held his body overhead on steady arms, she asked. “Who’s the best mother in-law in the world?” “You are, you are”. “Who’s in total control of your body?”. “You are” he replied. Lowering him slowly towards her head, she opened her mouth and swallowed his descending erection then pressed him up again, his dick moving out from her pursed lips. “Ohhhh”. She pressed him several more times sucking on him each time. “Please Paula please I want you” he begged. Paula pressed him and held him aloft. “I could keep this up all morning” she told him then looked at his throbbing dick. “That’s more than you can do. You look like you’re going to blow any second”. With that she slammed him onto his back on the bed.

Removing her knickers, Paula straddled Jim a few inches above his chest. Looking down at him, she flexed a most muscular, pleased to see a mixture of fear and lust as he eyed the bulky muscle, striations and cuts in her mighty arms and chest. “Think you can handle me in the bedroom?” she challenged. “Oh yes please” he gasped.

Paula turned so that she was facing his feet and his erection. Ignoring his grunts as she lay on top of him, Paula trapped Jim’s head between her huge calves. Wrapping her arms around his hips, she then rolled over so that he was now on top. With his head still between her calves, she reached down and slipped his erection inside her. “Ohhh” he moaned. “Don’t you dare cum so soon” she warned. She heard him gasp as she contracted her powerful love muscles hard around his shaft preventing his ejaculation. Certain that danger had passed, Paula started to pulse her innermost rings of muscle around the tip of his cock. “Did you know that there are several rings of muscles lining a woman’s love box? I can manipulate these muscles individually, in tandem like this”. “Ohhhh” he moaned as his dick was gripped and released in a series of squeezes. “Or in sequence, like this”. “Ohhhhh” he moaned as she set up a moving ripple of muscle up and down that pumped his cock. “That’s called the hand of the Gopala-girl who milks the cow. I could milk you dry like this”. “Ohhhh Paula yes please. You’re amazing in bed”. “Even side to side”. “Nnnnh”. She worked him slowly concentrating on the muscle groups of her channel to massage only the tip of Jim’s cock until he was almost ready to climax. Releasing the tip, she massaged only the base to delay the onset of orgasm yet keep him hard. Then she returned to the tip. The power she felt from controlling Jim sexually stimulated her. She worked him over and over, Jim moaning in sustained lust, for as long as she could before exploding in a massive multiple orgasm releasing Jim to join her.

Paula laughed at the memory. Jim didn’t get any work done that morning. She remembered how he tried to leave the room but she put a headlock on him and marched him back to bed. Then she got that coconut….

A sense of danger awoke her from her trance. A man’s face was reflected in the glass approaching her from behind. There were spirits in this place. Brief smells from the past; cooking in the abandoned canteen and cigar smoke in the officer’s mess. Strange short-lived orbs of lights and the feeling of being watched but somehow she knew that this apparition was real and meant her harm.

He was almost upon her when she saw the raised blade. Spinning, her fist flew out straight into the man’s stomach, satisfied to see her attacker fly backwards across the room and land on the floor. His knife skittered away. Her gut punch was more than enough to repel the occasional yob or thief that had tried to gain entry to the camp. After experiencing her large fist buried deep in their gut, they were in no mood to hang around and experience a second punch. As soon as she had hit him, she knew that this man was different. Instead of sinking into a soft belly, her fist had made contact with a rock hard stomach, the force of the punch driving him away. He wasn’t as badly winded as she had expected, other men just crumpled.
Mark got slowly to his feet, breathing slightly heavy but tying not to look fazed. He had never expected the fatty to pack a punch like that. “Stay right where you are mister. I’m calling the Police” she told him, the nerves showing in her voice. Mark laughed, “Go ahead. They won’t do anything. They’ve been told not to interfere”. Standing fully erect now, he gave a nasty smile and added, “say your prayers. I’m from the Elite Death Squad and you’re about to meet your maker”. “Ooh! Is that meant to scare me? Well I’m much scarier. I’m the mother in-law from hell” she replied.

Snarling Mark leapt forward. The big woman’s large fist shot towards his face. Raising his arm, he blocked the punch and winced at the unexpectedly harsh vibrations numbing his arm. Without pausing, Mark hammered his right fist into the woman’s middle. “Ngghh” Mark bit back a cry as his hand collided with hard unyielding flesh. “Mmm” The fatty had hardly made a sound or showed any sign of discomfort. Mark had nearly broken his wrist. Was she wearing a steel reinforced corset to hold in her flab?.

Wham! A large fist came out of nowhere and smashed him in the middle of his face jerking his head back savagely in a spray of blood as his nose broke. Ignoring the damage, Mark returned a punch of his own, catching the side of her jaw. He saw her face hardened as a mighty roundhouse punch whipped his face from one side to the other in a blaze of stars. Wham! Another fist whipped his face back the other way. He just made out another roundhouse punch heading his way and managed to block it, landing a punch to her chin. To his surprise, the woman took the blow. Standing there with her fists clenched and raised, she slugged him again in the side of his jaw with a left followed by a right. Joe returned the blows but she kept standing and slugging. They stood face to face trading punches. A hammer like jab split his lip; he smashed her mouth in return pleased to see a trickle of blood in the corner. A hard right rocked his jaw followed by a left and another hard right causing him to stagger. Dazed, he narrowly managed to duck under another punch that cut through the air above his head. He came up like a coiled spring released and landed an uppercut to her jaw. As the bulky woman staggered backwards in a daze, Mark laughed, “Payback’s a bitch”.

Stepping forward to lay her out, Mark drove his fist straight towards her jaw. Before he realised it was happening the fat woman moved swiftly to one side, grabbed his outstretched arm and hammered a fearsome fist hard into his gut. “Fffoorph”. Turning with his arm over her shoulder, she bent forward. Mark felt himself pulled towards the woman’s back then felt his crotch bump into her broad backside. Lifting off the ground, he felt himself ride across her bottom then was momentarily airborne before slamming into the concrete floor. “Arggh”. The fatty still held his arm stretching it straight and bending his hand into his wrist.

Ignoring the pain in his arm and shoulder, Mark spun his body on the floor towards the woman and scissor kicked her ankles. Down she went on her back in an ungainly heap with her legs apart, bent at the knees with her feet on the floor. “Ow my back” she cried. Mark sneered, “That’s what you get for being so fat”. “You’re tough love, I’ll give you that, but you’ve not got the skill” he sneered as he stepped towards her.

Mark leapt upon her, forcing himself between her knees, which dug into his sides, reaching forward to get hold of her neck with his hands to strangle her. Her neck was too thick to get his hands fully around, so he tried compressing the carotid arteries. “Time to go to sleep fat woman. Permanently” he sneered as she struggled to pull his hands off.

He felt her feet press against the front of his hips but dismissed it at a futile attempt to push him off. Suddenly he found himself lifted into the air looking down at the woman, supported by her legs. She was leg pressing him!, her thick legs supporting his body and angled towards her face. Peeling his hands from her neck, she looked calm and confident. “My legs are strong. Very strong” she told him. Must be from carrying all of that weight around for years, he thought. No! To his horror Mark found his hands being pushed into the air. To his disbelief, he found himself balanced horizontally on her arms and legs. Looking down at the matronly woman, he was shocked at her strength. “I’m more than you can handle, mister. I’ll teach you for hitting a lady” she said. How could an old fat woman be so strong? Something wasn’t right here, she wasn’t all she seemed. As she bent her legs and lowered his arms, he knew what came next. Nevertheless it still came as a shock when a surge of awesome strength flowed through her legs against his hips. Her legs straightened like a piston and Mark felt himself propelled high over her body with great force. Tumbling head over heels, he relaxed himself for the jarring impact as he landed on his back.

Rolling then standing, Mark watched the squat woman get clumsily to her feet. Her chubby face wasn’t smiling anymore. Her double chin, broad sloping shoulders, thick arms and legs still gave the impression of being overweight, but he now knew that she was a lot stronger than she looked. He had wasted too much time on her; he needed to finish her now. As she was straightening to face him, he charged. He was almost upon her, his hand raised to deliver a fatal chop to her neck when she grabbed the front of his jacket and fell backwards. Seeing her thigh rise in front of him, he felt her foot in his gut as she used his momentum against him. As her back hit the floor, her thick leg straightened and he felt a powerful push against his stomach as she threw him hard, head over heels, several feet across the room.

Wincing with the impact, he rolled and got to his feet in one fluid motion. Turning to face the podgy woman, he watched as she got awkwardly to her feet. “So they’ve taught you a few judo tricks” he snarled. “Jujitsu actually” she replied. “Well you aren’t in the dojo now, love. This is real life”.

Cautiously Mark approached her. The mature woman with the chubby cheeks and high hairline had adopted a grappling stance. The woman moved towards him and they collided into each other. Mark grabs the front of her blouse as if grabbing a gi jacket, she instinctively does likewise. He tries to move his hip against hers and slip a leg behind to trip her but the bulky woman counters and nearly throws him backwards over her hip. Back and forth they went each trying to unbalance the other. Mark now realises this was a mistake, the woman’s short height and bulky build is giving her a stability that he is finding hard to unbalance. On the other hand, he is struggling to keep his balance as she tugs and pulls at him. She is a lot stronger than he gave her credit for. He knows he has underestimated her and it won’t be long before she throws him unless he acts.

The next time the woman tugs, Mark steps forward as if losing his footing. As expected she turns her hip into him but before she can swing a beefy calve behind him to sweep his leg away, he grasps her shoulder and swiftly brings his knee up into her gut. “Mmmmppph” she grunted. Mark swept the woman’s leg away and threw her to the floor. Twisting her arm, he stepped across her body in a crouch to break her arm. WHUMP “Argghh”. A large fist driven by her free arm shoots up between his legs pummelling his balls in a cruel blow. “Oohhh” Mark groaned as he moved away, cupping his aching balls. “You bitch. You’ll pay for that” he gasped through the pain. “Big boys always cry when they break their toys” the woman said with a cheery smile as she got to her feet.

“This finishes now” Mark spat. Forcing himself to ignore his throbbing balls, he kicks high catching her right in the middle of her face. Satisfied at the sight of a bloody nose as she staggers back, he spins and kicks her in the side of her head. Continuing to spin, he had just kicked out at her head, when his brain registered her leg moving. WHUMP, a split second later and with barely time to tense his abs and without his foot connecting with her face, a foot pistons deep into his gut. The power of the kick is devastating, lifting him clean off his feet hurling his body across the room. “….” Mark would have yelled in agony but his mighty abs and diaphragm were hammered flat. On the floor, rocking back and forth in badly winded agony, his mind tells him that an ordinary man wouldn’t have had a chance. Can’t breathe, must focus. He can’t begin to fathom the power behind that kick.

He hears footsteps approaching. Oh my god, she’s going to finish me off. Out the corner of his eye, he sees his discarded knife near by. She’s getting nearer, must breathe, must act. Forcing himself to focus, Mark rolls across the floor and scoops up the knife. Getting to his knees, he waves it at her and sees her stop. “Urghh” forcing scraps of air into his lungs, Mark slowly catches his breath. “Oh, you’re such a big man. Need a knife do you? Was I too much for you to handle?” she taunted. “Shhhhut up” he weased, getting slowly to his feet, breathing raggedly.

Mark hadn’t quite fully stood up when the large squat woman moved forward. He saw her leg move and her skirt jump up then a thick leg clad in sheer black nylon kicked the knife out of his hand. Fortunately he was still winded and unsteady. The impact to his hand and loss of the blade caused him to over balance and his head swayed a fraction. WHOOSH. Mark felt the air move as a foot rushed by in front of his face, cutting through the space where it had just been a split second before.

Stepping back in alarm, Mark gasped in amazement as a thick nylon clad leg continued to travel vertically until the top of her thigh bounced against her ample bust. Oh my.. Mark is staggered by the incredible flexibility of the bulky woman whom he had thought was fat. For an instant he glimpsed the powerful wide upside down diamond shaped calve in front of her face and thick hamstrings running down the back of her raised leg. Her raised skirt rode over the top of her wide thighs and his gaze moved quickly past white briefs and stocking tops. As she began to lower her leg, he caught sight of huge thick muscular quads of the leg she was standing on. A thick chunky slab of muscle swept the outside of her thigh. Down the inside, above her knees there was a large tear shaped muscle. In between these was a wide bulging V shaped wedge. The legs are so powerful looking that something primitive stirs in him. He has never seen legs like that on a woman before and not many men. Most bodybuilders would die for legs like that. For the first time he felt doubt, maybe this civilian was really too much for him to handle.

The brief glimpse of those legs unnerved him; the memory of their raw latent feminine power wouldn’t leave his thoughts. So much so that when she took a step towards him, he actually flinched and took a step back before he had realised what he was doing. “Bah!” the woman yelled, causing him to jump. Then she charged towards him, like a rampaging rhino. Her body collided with his. It was like getting hit by a freight train. He fell backwards with the woman on top of him. In a blind panic, Mark managed to roll the heavy woman over and ended up on top with his face in her voluminous chest. Scrabbling backwards towards her waist, he started to raise himself when huge nylon clad thighs enclosed his head.

Twin columns of muscled beef clamped hard upon his skull. Oh my god, the pain is excruciating. Mark knows he’s only got seconds to act. He’s seen those monstrously muscled thighs and can feel the unbearable pressure move well beyond his comfort zone. Most men would have instinctively raised their hands to those huge bulging thighs in an attempt to prise them apart, but Mark knew that would be futile. Arghh it feels like my jaw is going to explode and my teeth crack. Suppressing despair, caught in the terrifying vice of her immense legs, Mark focuses on reaching for the holster at his rear. Argg her legs are so strong, I can hear my skull creak. He fumbles the flap then withdraws his service pistol with shaking hands. Arghh his eyes blur and his teeth grind. His cheeks feel like they are imploding. As excruciating crippling pain lances through his head, he blindly swings the gun in the direction of her face and squeezes the trigger.
Paula smiled, she’s got the bastard between her legs, and he’s not going to get out of there in a hurry. She would have preferred to have scissored his neck so that she could knock him out then call the Police, but this way he might last a bit longer and it will be a whole lot more painful. Good, serves the bastard right for hitting her in the face.

She thinks it odd that he doesn’t try to grab her thighs with his puny hands, but seems to trying to reach something behind him. Suddenly a gun swings into view and points towards her face. Never having seen a gun in real life, Paula is scared for her life. Instinctively she squeezes harder raising a muffled cry of protest. She sees he is about to pull the trigger and tries to lean her head away from where it is pointing. BANG! The gun going off in the small bare guard room at such close range makes her jump and squeeze involuntarily. She feels the heat from the blast and senses the bullet narrowly missing her ear. Frightened that he will shoot again, she squeezed her thighs as hard as she could. Her mighty quads quiver with the effort, her heart beating fast.

The human skull is not designed to take such pressure. Paula had once demonstrated to Jim that she could crush a coconut. Sitting, she had placed a large coconut between her thighs and squeezed. Her thick quads hardened, the separation between them deepened, becoming more pronounced. The femoral triangle becoming a mighty V shaped wedge. “Impossible” Jim murmured, his appreciation of her bulging leg muscles apparent in his own bulging in his trousers. God he was so hard!. Indeed it looked like the coconut would resist her strength. As Paula straightened her legs, the hard fruit gave way across the middle with a crack and was then crushed with a spray of coconut milk and bits of white flesh. Jim had practically jumped on her, kissing her passionately, begging to worship her. So hard was his lust.

But now Paula is scared for her life and can’t stop squeezing. There is a horrible popping and crunching sound and she hears the gun clatter to the ground. Looking down at her huge quivering legs, she is surprised that they are so close together. How can a man’s head fit in there? Opening her thighs, the sight that greets her makes the bile rise into her mouth.

Rushing to the sink in the small bathroom, she leans over the sink dry heaving for several minutes. Eventually it subsides and she is thankful for not having eaten for many hours. Walking back into the main room, she is unable to look at the figure on the floor. Knowing there’s blood and gore on her stockings and skirt, she removes them, her hands shaking. They could be wiped down in the sink and put to dry over the heater.

Putting her shoes back on, she walks to the desk and stares at the phone. She can’t call the Police, not if the man was telling the truth. Making her decision, she dials a number given for emergencies. A woman’s voice answers. Quickly describing what has happened, Paula is told, “Look on the man’s lapel. Is there any sort of insignia?”. Not wanting to look at the man’s broken face, she gets her skirt and throws it over where his head should be. Steeling herself she looks at the lapel and removes a small black badge. “It’s a black grinning skull”. There is a pause at the other end of the line. “Elite Death Squad. He was telling the truth. They usually work in teams. There may be more of them around. Get out of there Paula”.

There is a muffled explosion. “What was that?” Paula exclaimed. Looking up at the monitors she sees smoke coming from Building One. “The bastards are blowing the place up”. “Paula, do not engage. Paula?”.
Somewhere in Washington D.C.
The American General stood looking through the open door of his office into the corridor beyond. He could count six guards lying on the floor, presumably dead.

“You disobeyed a direct order” he heard the woman’s voice as she walked into his vision. He couldn’t turn his head or avert his eyes as much as he wished he could. Glaring at him are angry red eyes from beneath a black cowl. Eyeballs a light red that reminded him of blood, the irises slightly darker and the pupils a very dark shade of red. “Sin, sin, sin. You will all burn in the hellfire of the devil’s gaze” a preacher’s voice echoed through his memories. Baleful red eyes glared him. Shamefully, he wet himself with fear. “A-American national security” he said in a voice that sounded weak. “SILENCE. Do you take me for a fool?”. His mouth froze. “You have overstepped the bounds of your freedom. You have disobeyed the overlords for the last time”.

The woman put her hand into the depths of her long black robe. She withdrew a strange metal object that resembled a badminton shuttlecock. With a flick of the wrist, the object flew towards his chest. Revolving at great speed with tail blades spreading out, the object burrowed into his chest. He would have screamed, but his mouth didn’t work. He would have run, but his limbs weren’t his own. Blood and gore sprayed the room. Somehow, not a drop landed on the cloaked woman. It’s work done, the woman silently bent down and retrieved the metal object, which had resumed its former compact shape; not a stain on its surface.
Paula was half way down the main path when the night’s cold bite reminded her that she was running barelegged and without a skirt or jacket. Too late now, I’ll have to do without. Armed with a torch and a walkie-talkie which was useless because there was no-one back in the guard hut to answer it, she continued running but had to slow down. It’s hard to run with large heavy breasts smashing you in the chest upsetting your rhythm and winding you.

As she neared the former main building of the complex she remembered “They usually work in teams”. Covering the torch with her hand she approached with caution. Nobody seemed to be around, thin wisps of smoke still hung in the air around the doorway. She shivered as she entered. Building One. That was where she had sensed the spirits the strongest; there was a feeling of depression and sadness. Carefully entering she allowed a muted light into the room. There was now a large hole blown in the back wall revealing a descending tunnel she never knew existed.

There was a faint light at the end, so she turned off her torch and walked carefully. Suddenly the figure of a man appeared at the tunnel mouth, Paula stopped. “Mark? Is that you?” a mans voice asked. She stood still and held her breath. The man disappeared. She continued slowly.

Reaching the end of the tunnel she saw a large entrance hall with other rooms and corridors leading off, all dusty from many years of abandonment. In the middle of the room is a large bench upon which was stood a bright table lamp with no shade and a large black backpack. That reminded her that she had passed something similar as she ran out of the guard hut, not thinking to stop and look. There was another light moving around in one of the rooms at the end of a side corridor.

There was also a box of electronics and loads of wires leading from it leading into other rooms. Taking a look in the backpack, Paula finds packets of what look and feel like clay with ‘C4’ written on them. That triggered something her son had told her during his short-lived army career. Some kind of explosive invented by the U.S. military. So they are trying to blow up the place!. She has to go back and call for help.

“Put down the C4 then raise your hands where I can see them. Slowly, no sudden movements”. Paula looked around to see a man similarly dressed to the first pointing a gun at her.
Brad had been right, there was someone lurking around in the tunnel; the female security guard. The bruises and dried blood on her face showed that she had encountered Mark. But surely she couldn’t have beaten him? She reminded him a bit of his mother. How could such a fat friendly matronly looking woman with her chubby cheeks and double chin, possibly have got the drop on a ruthless trained soldier like Mark. He couldn’t risk a shot while she was near the C4. “Move away from the bench. Step further away”.

Why was she not wearing a skirt? Oh my god, those legs!. What incredible legs! How could an overweight motherly woman like that have such muscular legs? No, not overweight, not with legs like that. They are amazing. The quads are so defined and big. With her smooth skinned and healthy muscle tone, they are really very sexy, so powerful. Look at those outer thighs, the vastus lateralus he recalled the name, they’re like thick slabs. Oh god they’re so thick, look at the difference with her knee, they must be several inches deep. The tear shaped inner thigh, the vastus medialus, is so apparent, look at the way it bulges. Oh and the muscle in between, the femoral triangle or rectus femorus, it looks like a sharp bulging arrowhead. Brad liked fit toned women, although he wasn’t too keen on female bodybuilders or jocks thinking they were unfeminine. However there was something about this woman that turned him on. Maybe it was the contrast with the homeliness of her face or her large full low-slung breasts that shouted that she was all woman. Maybe it was something raw and primal. Whatever it was, Brad’s cock was standing to attention. Oh god I would like to get my dick between those beauties and shoot my load all over them. Boy, they were legs I could fuck!.

He suddenly realised that the woman was slowly moving towards him. “Stop. Stay where you are” he ordered. Get a grip man, concentrate. This woman must have taken out Mark; possibly using those legs. You can’t afford to let them distract you. Those amazing legs looked dangerous. Oh god what amazing legs. Focus Brad focus.

A suspicious thought crossed his mind. Still pointing the gun at her, he told her “undo your blouse”. “I beg your pardon?” “Just do it” he replied. Brad watched as she unbuttoned her blouse, gawping at the deep dark cleavage revealed. “Open the blouse. Fully” he demanded. Oh my god, look at the size of them. They’re huge. Really low slung but full. That bra is enormous. Orrr I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on those vast sexy wobbly mounds of flesh and sticking my dick down that deep cleavage.

As if reading his mind, the breasts swelled pulled by strong pectorals forming two large hemispherical orbs of flesh. Phroar !. Brad’s boner throbbed. Focus Brad Focus, she’s distracting you again. “Enough of that. Stay where you are.” he ordered.  “Pull out that necklace so I can see it”. “I knew it. That’s just saved your life. What have your lot done with Vanessa?” he asked. “I don’t know anyone called Vanessa” she replied. “Very well, have it your way. You’re coming with me so we can trade you” he said.

He needed to tie her up while he finished wiring the last few explosives. “Take off your blouse and throw it on the table” he instructed. As she did so he couldn’t help gawping at the size of her arms, the muscle tone, the defined triceps and bicep veins all indicated she worked out heavily. Definitely not a fatty.

Keeping the gun on her, Brad picked up the blouse. “Turn around” he said, twisting the blouse. “Put your arms behind your back, now take your right wrist with your left hand”. Placing the gun back in its holster, he moved forward to tie the blouse in a knot around her wrists.

As quick as a flash, the shorter woman grabbed his hands and pulled his arms around her body as if to embrace her. Brad was even more surprised when he felt his hands plunged down the front of her bra and deep between those massive mammories. “Wow slow down love – what the?”. Suddenly the pillows of flesh around his hands hardened, forcing his hands together. “Strong aren’t they? my pectorals” she told him. “They need to be to carry these whoppers around”. Brad was amazed that he couldn’t remove his hands from their sexy busty prison.

Pressed up against the smaller woman’s broad back with his arms around her, Brad felt a tension in arms as her back expanded. The woman seemed to be getting wider as her sloping shoulders squared and her lats flared. He was astonished to see her broad smooth back become a rugged contour map of thick swelling muscle. His arms were forced to stretch awkwardly to accommodate her expanding back. Oh my god, how big is this woman?. Brad tried to grit his teeth at the tension in his arms which were no longer able to encompass the woman’s massive girth.

His over-taut arms burning, Brad watched stupefied as the woman raised her arms bent at the elbows. Two mountainous peaks of solid muscle rose in front of his face. Brad experienced fear as he realised that he was holding onto a woman who greatly out muscled him. At the same, his throbbing erection pressed into the woman’s ample backside. The view from the back was stunning as she flexed the massive twin peaks a couple of times, he could see splits in her biceps. They could easily be at least 17 inches. “I feel you like that. My son in-law goes crazy when I do that. He can’t stop making love to me” she said. At that moment Brad didn’t know whether he wanted to make love to her or run away. It was like trying to hold onto a bear that once let go would try and rip your head off.

Brad felt the strong pecs relax around his hand and saw her lower her twin peaks. But before he can withdraw his hand from her deep cleavage, she has grabbed them and raised them above her head. She stepped to one side. Brad felt his arms swing down rapidly in a forward arc, the motion causing his body to flip head over heels in a spinning wrist throw.

No sooner had his back hit the floor, than his arm was held taut and he was being forced onto his side. Brad gritted his teeth as the woman controlled him with his arm, forcing him over onto his knees. Supporting himself with his free hand, the feeling of being powerless in this mature woman’s arm lock is strangely erotic. Large legs come into view from behind as she steps over him near his shoulders. Pulling his arm between her legs and leveraged across her crotch, Brad feels his shoulder gripped by her fearsome thighs. “Arghh” an arm wraps across the back of his elbow joint and a hand bends his wrist back hard. This mature civilian had rendered him helpless!. “Look at how easily I’ve dominated you. I can control you anyway I choose. I can make you beg all night long if I wanted to” she says. Somehow her words emphasising his helplessness are strangely exciting. I’m a highly trained Special Forces soldier and this mature mother-in law civilian had humiliated him, incapacitating him with ease. Brad was surprised his erection seemed even harder.

“Up you get, you pathetic little worm”. Helpless, Brad is forced to a partial crouch at risk of a broken arm, as the woman stands straight behind him. “Argg my arm”. Brad feels her mighty thighs grip his shoulder tightly. “Tell me what this place is or I’ll bust your shoulder with my legs” she demands. For emphasis, Brad feels a tremendous surge of power pour down upon his trapped shoulder. “Arggh please no! Please, I honestly don’t know” he replies. “So why are you here trying to blow it up?”, another brutal squeeze compresses his shoulder. “Argg! please! Vital to national security. The Americans will be here any minute. Argh!. We were told that would be very bad”. He added “Please, as a British citizen, it’s your duty to let me complete my task before the Yanks get here”. “Why should I believe you? And what about me?” she asked. “It’s the truth, honestly. I’ll…I’ll say I never saw you. Please you’ve got to help me”.

Paula was conflicted. She had been in the RAF and knew that there were some things that should remain buried and kept secret. But on the other hand, she didn’t completely trust this man. She had seen too much. But she was patriotic and willing to let this man complete his mission. “Ok, but you better be telling me the truth because I’ve had more than I can stand for one night” she told him.

The stupid woman had released him. Even though this woman had turned him on, he now realised she was too dangerous to take hostage to exchange for Vanessa. She was a formidable opponent; he’d have to take her out quickly. As he stood massaging his shoulder, he turned to face her and tried to casually reach for his holster. Suddenly the big woman, in her bra and panties, stepped forward with her face ablaze with anger. Before he could react, a thick leg swung up in a ferocious high kick that snapped his head back savagely. Brad’s head is in a daze and for a moment didn’t know where he was. He’d never expected such a large woman to move like that! Oh my god, the power of that kick! It felt like she nearly kicked his head off his spine. Still dazed and surprised to find himself on the floor, he can only look up in fear as thick arms reach down towards him. “You filthy lying bastard! You were going to shoot me like that other fellow. Well I’ve had enough of the likes of you. I’m going to teach you such a lesson that you’ll never be disrespectful to a woman again”.

“Orpph”. Suddenly the weight of the woman is upon him. God knows how many pounds of angry female flesh jumps on his body, wearing only her underwear. A thick arm envelops his head in a headlock, the left side of his face sinking into the soft mounds of her breast. “Let’s see you get out of that sunshine” she tells him. “Arggh”. The grip is so strong, his eyes blur with tears and his teeth grind as his jaw is put under enormous pressure. “Can you feel my big biceps crushing your puny skull?”. Yes he could! Raising his hand to the arm threatening to rip his head off, Brad is horrified to encounter a vast amount of solid flesh everywhere he feels, yet his hand is nowhere near his head. “Arghh”. He can feel the huge peaked biceps trying to dig their way into his skull. Oh my god she’s so strong!

Frantically, Brad tries to dig his nails into the huge unyielding flesh. “You bastard!” she cries. A rolling motion rocks Brad then with alarm he feels her squat legs encase his chest and her ankles hook together. “Worfph” Flexing her quads fast, Brad felt the woman snap on the scissors, his breath rushing out in an involuntary shout as a thick wall of fleshy steel contracted hard around his diaphragm. “Fear the power of a mother in-law’s legs” she said as she threw his body back to the ground. Brad felt the terrifying grip relax for just a second and then snap on tight again. “Hkkk” Brad could only make a pathetic squeak, there was no air left in his lungs to expel.

The woman was on her side with Brad face up still held by her punishing headlock. Her left leg was on top of his chest and her right beneath his body sandwiched in-between. “Scratch me again and I’ll crush every bone in your body”. With his head locked tight in her arms, the big woman kept increasing the pressure with her legs. Oh god the pressure! He could feel her inner quads bulging against his breastbone and into his back. Oh god no, so tight. My gun! Brad tries to reach down to his holster but is shocked to find that he can’t get his hands past her bulky thighs.

Desperate, Brad pounds on the woman’s thighs with his fists. She laughed close to his ear. “Is that mean to hurt?”. “Orrhhh” the woman’s thighs tightened their grip on him. As his hands touch her legs, he can’t resist running his palms along those amazing quads. “That’s right feel how strong my legs are. Go on, worship them”. Brad’s hands could feel her large quads grow rock solid as she flexed them even more. Each individual muscle stood out in bold relief with sharp cuts between each muscle. “Strong aren’t they? Too big for you to cope with” she murmured then ran her tongue up his ear. His cock went solid in an instant.

Paula was tired and angry. It had been an unpleasant night and she wanted to go home. How dare this creep try and pull a gun on her. She watched her legs as they flexed. It was almost like they did it by themselves without her thinking about it. Paula watched with pride as her huge quads jumped up into hard wide ridges, sticking up from her legs. Her inner quad muscle bulged and she could see it press Brad’s breastbone down. God, doing this to a man really turned her on.

No, please no more. Brad got his hand in between her knees and onto the underside of her upper calve and tried to prise her legs apart. No! The big woman flexed her huge calve, trapping his hand and bending his fingers against the top of her shin. Brad couldn’t make a sound as she straightened her knees to pour more power through those squat powerful legs. He could feel his fingers break and his ribs compress. God she’s going to crush my chest all the way against my spine!.

Paula’s calves were flexed so hard, she could feel them almost cramping. The man’s fingers were all white where they stuck out from under her meaty calve.

Feeling the sheer power in the hard bulging muscles compressing his chest and lungs, he knows he doesn’t stand a chance against these huge sculpted beauties. “Look the size of my quads. Impressive aren’t they. Oh I forgot. You can’t look because your puny head is trapped by big bicep. Too bad”.

With his free hand, Brad feels the silky smoothness of her thighs and marvels at the contrast with their sheer size and bulging power. Doubly trapped with a mighty muscled arm around his head and thick muscled thighs around his waist, Brad knew this mother in-law was far too much for him to handle. She had beat him and completely dominated him yet for some reason that really turned him on.

Paula focused on bringing her legs together. You are a woman. Your legs are powerful. Your legs are moving together. Nothing can stand in their way. They are an irresistible force of nature that no man can stop. Focussing her mind like that calmed her down and she felt relaxed and at peace for the first time that evening. She flexed her quads harder and started to feel the pleasant tingling that she got when she flexed hard against something, usually an innocent grapefruit or coconut. That sensation was so addictive, making her want to squeeze until the orgasm hit her. Putting her hand on her thigh, she felt the muscles contract, growing warm and feeling hard as steel.

“Come on, give it up. You can’t handle me. Admit it, my legs have destroyed you just like they destroyed your friend”. As the powerfully bulging quads tightened their deadly embrace, Brad’s body surrendered to the mighty legs, creaming his pants with a heavy load that emptied his balls in salute to the powerful woman who had destroyed him.

Paula thought she heard gagging noises, but she wasn’t sure. She just closed her eyes and allowed her legs to continue to flex on their own.
My legs are like the jaw of a car crush; nothing can stop them moving together. Suddenly she felt something give, her thighs jerking closer together. She could hear a muffled cracking noise. Opening her eyes in alarm, Paula looked down and saw her legs flexed so hard that they seemed to be buried in the man’s chest. Every muscle in her leg stood large and proud. There were even veins on her quads.

The man wasn’t moving; his free arm flopped on the floor. Unwinding her arm from around his head and stretching out a kink, she watched as it flopped senselessly. His face was a funny colour but he seemed to have an expression of bliss on his face. Relaxing and opening her thighs, she saw his chest didn’t look right. Sliding her leg out from under him, she stood. No, he definitely didn’t look too good. There was a sort of hollow in his chest where her legs had been. Oh god, I’ve broken his ribs! I think I’ve killed another one! Two men in one night.

Tears rolled down her cheek, she was a murderer, a double murderer. No, it was self-defence, but she knew that any British court would send her to jail for not using ‘reasonable force’. One look at her legs and no jury would see them as ‘reasonable’ force.

There’s a red light flashing on the bench. Walking over, she sees it’s her walkie-talkie, which she had put down when she examined the C4.
Paula picks it up and turns up the volume then speaks “Hello?”. “Paula thank god. We were worried when we got to the guard hut and you weren’t there”. Paula briefly described what had happened and gave them directions to Building 1. “What if he was telling the truth about the Americans?” she asked. “It could be true. The Police have shut the road to the Moor and we’ve heard gunfire nearby. Look around see if there’s anything we should clear out”.

Putting on her blouse then picking up her torch, Paula explored the corridors of the abandoned underground complex. There are rows of bedrooms. Fair sized each with an old metal bed frame, a sink and a toilet, nevertheless the bars on the outside of the doors gave a strong impression of cells. Paula started to get spooked with a feeling of being watched and seeing small floating orbs of light. Turning a corner, she jumped. She could have sworn she saw a shadow of a young boy but there was no one there. Paula ran. Fighting off and killing two members of the Elite Death Squad was one thing, but dealing with the paranormal was quite different.

Calming herself, she found herself in a room that had been a medical operating room. Could this have been one of those underground nuclear fallout shelters the Government built for the aristocracy? Infamously willing to let the working classes get blasted to hell. Somehow she knew that something more sinister took place here, she could sense it in the atmosphere. Looking around whilst waiting for clean-up squad the true horror of the place strikes her.

She tried to find her way back to the entrance hall but instead came across an office. There were dusty old filling cabinets covered in cobwebs in one corner. Curious, she pulled opened a drawer and pulled out a file. “Project Gabriel – TOP SECRET UK EYES ONLY’. She opens the folder and flicks through the papers within – its all scientific gobbeldy gook – doesn’t mean a thing to her. However, as she browsed through more folders, a pattern began to form. A very disturbing pattern. They were experimenting upon humans, British subjects. No wonder the Government wanted this destroyed.

Paula felt nauseous and turned to leave the office. That’s when she spotted what appeared to be family trees on very large sheets of paper pinned to the walls. She’s interested in family trees and always wanted to do her own. These ones seemed to be very long, dating back incredibly far into the past. So much so, that she felt these works of fiction. The family names morphed as she looked down the hereditary charts reflecting changes through the centuries. At various points across the bottom of the charts, she noted red ribbons connecting names from different families. Marriage lines?. Intrigued she takes a closer look working along the charts until she came across a strange chart at the end. Following the family line down through the generations, she recognised a name. Where had she heard that name? Lady Helen mentioned her in connection with The Sisterhood, she was sure. A red ribbon was pinned underneath. Following it, she came to another name on a different chart. Oh dear god no. With dawning horror she spots a name she knew only too well. These two people were certainly not married to each other, and as far as she knew had never met. Realisation sank in, this wasn’t an ordinary family tree this was something else entirely.
There’s this shop in Baker Street that sells all sorts of surveillance gadgets. Well I brought this tiny electronic beacon that can be tracked by GPS and secured it inside one of the items that Gill and myself had found inside Principal Newman’s safe [JIMP#21]. For several weeks, the tracker on my computer just sat there located on St.Agatha’s Domestic service College. I was beginning to hope that the salesman was right about the thing having a long battery life!. Then one Friday afternoon, the signal began to move. I watched the icon slowly wind its way through the congested London streets. Finally it stopped at a location in Kensington. Printing off the location, I grabbed my coat and headed for the nearest tube station.

About half an hour later, I was standing in a back street looking at a loading bay for some kind of shop. Walking around the block and around to the front of the building, I found myself on a street just off the high street. It was one of those expensive shops that can only be visited by appointment and bearing the name J.T. Holland & sons. There was nothing to indicate the nature of the business. Discrete enquiries with passing locals didn’t help; I was too far down the social ladder for them to bother with. Back at the college, I found that the store was unlisted in the phone book and I could find nothing on the Internet.

I was left with no option but stake the place out whenever I could. It took a long time. Either I missed them or they didn’t make many deliveries or collections. Needing someone to continue investigations at the college, I persuaded Gill, director of training& recruitment, to allow Bobby and Jackie to enrol as resident students in exchange to help discover what Principal Newman was up. It really did take a long time. So much so, that I was forced to drive the car over so I could sit in it, instead of standing around drawing strange suspicious glances from the posh residents.

Finally a large van drew up at the loading bay. Getting out of the car, I took a closer look. A couple of delivery men were unloading a large mahogany sideboard. “Careful man. That’s Regency period worth at least £4000” a man said. He was plump with thinning white hair and glasses, smartly dressed in a costly looking suit. I watched as several more pieces of antique furniture were carried into the loading bay.
Across the opposite side of the street, a female figure draped in a long black cloak with her face deep in the recesses of a deep cowl watches Jim. “Looks like I was right not to kill you in Paris, Priest” the woman says to herself [JIMP#14] drawing a strange glance from a passer-by walking a Pekinese dog. “You really have no idea what you are getting into, do you, you silly man”. An upper-class woman on the path looked down her nose at her. Angel glared back then gave the woman a flash of red eyelids. The woman walked on very quickly. “The sharks are circling closer, Jim. Will you be the shark-catcher or the bait?”.

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