Breaking and Entry Martin Kane A Delphi Agency Tale: An assassin who really enjoys her work. --- Author's note: Anyone wishing to contact me may do so via the DtV messageboard for Readers & Writers. Please do not use the E-mail address mentioned on previous tales as it is no longer active. I invite anyone to send their comments, suggestions, thoughts or suspicions should they care to. Copyright is mine. I'd be flattered if anyone wanted to use this tale elsewhere, but please seek permission first. (I would threaten copyright infringements as punishable by Suzie but there are probably people out there that might actually enjoy that.) Needless to say this story is purely a fiction and all characters merely the products of an overwrought imagination I'll abstain from the adult content warning, if you've got this far, you're certain to know what kind of thing to expect anyway. However, if you are bothering to read this bit (if anyone does?) and you’ve actually sampled some of my stories before, I should just mention that this particular tale is a little more extreme than previous efforts and may put off those people not interested in the more grotesque elements of my imagination. You have been warned... --- Suzie was still dressed in a purple leotard and matching, skin-tight leggings when the driver picked her up. She hadn’t bother to shower and the sweat of her workout still clung to her body in a light sheen. The driver took the sight in as she walked towards him, slinging a bag over her shoulder. A shapely figure, with broad curves of voluptuous muscles. The bulging of her muscle mass actually accentuated her feminine allure: hips and bust and thighs. Big hair bounced down, loose and unrestrained. Her breasts were far too large for the slip of material attempting to cover them and she busted out like a peep-show. From what he knew of Suzie, the driver didn’t doubt for a moment that this was deliberate. She habitually used her sex appeal as a weapon. She knew what she looked like and she knew the effect it had on people. She winked as she got in the car. "Close your mouth, Love," she told him with a wry grin, "you’ll let the flies in." The driver smiled back. His mouth wasn’t open but he didn’t contradict her. He knew what she meant and it was pointless to deny he’d enjoyed the sight, the bulge in his trousers was as blatant as was her physique. "Nice suit," he told her. "Sorry to bug you on a day off but when her Majesty calls..." he apologised. "Besides, you’ll enjoy this one." Suzie grinned, despite herself. "Private room?" "You can take as long as it takes," he assured her. "Ms T knew it was a job for you." After a short journey the car pulled up outside a tower-block. "Standard drill," she told him. "Sure thing," he agreed. "OK, this is it. You want the eighth floor. He’s on the ninth, but the flat directly below him is empty. You can get out to the balcony and climb up one. It’s number four- five-five." She nodded. "There’s a gun in the glove-compartment," he added. Suzie just looked at him as though he was stupid. The driver simply shrugged. "Have you ever known me to use one? I disapprove of handguns," she told him. "Besides, where am I going to put it." She gestured to her outfit, which quite obviously didn’t have pockets. He could actually think of one makeshift holster but knew he risked getting a slap if he suggested it. "You’re going in like that?" he asked instead, his voice sounding incredulous. "I like to be comfortable while I work," she told him. "Don’t you think you’re going to be just a little bit conspicuous. I can see it now, Crimewatch: ‘a massive female bodybuilder, Caucasian, black hair, big tits, wearing a purple leotard’. I mean, it’s not the sort of thing people are going to forget seeing." Suzie giggled. "I wonder where they’d find someone to play me in the reconstruction." "A least borrow my coat," he offered. She glanced over to the back seat at the long leather coat and was actually tempted for a few moments. Then she grinned: "Na. I’d split it in half the second I reached up to scratch my nose." The driver watched her go, two purple buttocks and a multitude of muscles rolling across her shoulders and down her back. He sighed lustfully to himself then pulled the car away. Suzie reached the main door and saw it was a block with security opening, you could only get inside the block if someone in one of the flats buzzed you in. Unless you were as adept at B and E as was Suzie. The doorbell panel was a metal block embedded into the wall besides the door. It jutted out a little over an inch. That was enough. First she checked there was no one about, inside or out, peering through the high, narrow window, then she went to work. She brought her elbow down hard onto the lip of the panel, buckling it a little at the rim. It was enough for her to sink strong fingers beneath and rip the front plate right off. It came away, but only reluctantly, long screws popping out of their casings one by one. The metal panel itself was thick but still bent rather than come free. Superior strength won out however and the bulked plate was soon hanging by a torn thread of metal. She knew that all door locks such as this were designed to fail-to- safe, it was basic fire regulations. All she had to do was damage the thing. A heavy fist sank into the innards, cracking the single silicon sheet and mashing wires and components. A spark and pop issued forth and the smell of ozone snaked into her nostrils. She checked her knuckles, licking the one minor scrape her vandalism had cost her. Suzie tried the door and it opened without protest. She walked over to the lifts and pressed the call button. The doors opened on an empty car and she stepped in, picking the eighth floor. The hallway was quiet. She stepped to one corner, checking the door number. Then wandered around to next one. She passed a large window and caught the view for the first time - it was amazing at this height. She looked down on what appeared like a living map of the city. To survey the land like this gave her an incredible rush of power. She could make out the shape of the distant railway, cutting through city blocks like the perforation on a tax-form. A tiny train, far more intricate and delicate than any child’s toy, rolled like a shadow, weaving around and away towards the horizon. She made a mental note to return with a set of binoculars at some time, but now, there was business to be done. The empty flat offered her no resistance whatsoever. She leaned her weight against the heavy door then pressed a little muscle into the action. The lock popped like it was plastic. She didn’t kick the door in or shoulder it down, not wanting to attract attention or leave a broken down door to alert people to an illegal presence. Then she thought of the mangled panel at the main, front door. She shrugged and carefully closed the door anyway. Kicking past a heap of ignored mail and free newspapers, she tried the abandoned rooms in succession until she reached the one that led out to a balcony. She walked smartly up to the large widows, getting another fantastic view, this time, a different angle on the city. It was just as awesome and the effect on her was just as pronounced. She tried the door to get onto the balcony. It too was locked. So many locks, she thought to herself, and all they did was slow her down a little. It just made the stalking more interesting - more fun. She wrapped her hands around the door-handle, ripping it off with a sharp yank. It was metal, the outer part of the door was plastic with a metal structure within. The plastic casing came free with the handle and she tore it away as one would a strip of wallpaper. It gave her access to the lock. She simply eased her fingers around the body of the locked and tore it free of the framework within the door. Then she was on the balcony and taking in that view unencumbered. The air was cold up here and the sudden chill against her skimpily clad flesh felt good. Wind blasted against her body with surprising force. She would have expected the bulk of the building to act as a shield but if anything, the wind was worse. She didn’t dwell on either the phenomenon or the view but set about clambering carefully onto the railing that overhung the precipitous drop. Crouching and still holding tight either side of her feet, she stood on a two-inch thickness of metal with a balcony floor to her left and a plummet to her right. Then a flex of her legs and she pumped her form straight, standing up and reaching upwards to press one hand hard against the ceiling - the floor of the balcony above. Grateful of the support it offered, it was a moment or two before it clicked in her head that she was now touching the destination: the flat where her victim even now presided. Suzie turned her back to the drop, feeling the metal railing through the soles of her trainers. She reached her hands up over the rim to catch hold of the railings in the balcony above. She spaced them adequately apart then lifted her body, pulling her entire form slowly up until her head eased just a little over the rim, enough to see into his balcony - into his flat. The designs of the flats were all identical and she confirmed how much space she would have to play with. The door onto the balcony was glass within a frame - clear right down to the floor - but the window gave her a good three feet from the floor where she would obscured to anyone not either deliberately standing by the window looking down or standing on the balcony itself. Happy with this, she carefully lowered her body back down, feet kicking the air gently until they once more made contact with the railing below. Her hands loosened their grip on the railings but still kept hold of them, offering a necessary assist to balance. Then she began. Gripping one bar of the railings in the balcony above her, she twisted and pried at the metal. What with Suzie’s great strength, it took only a few seconds until the bar gave a low clucking shudder. A small shower of brick dust coated her and she coughed, blinking. A largish chunk dropped into her expansive cleavage and she swore, dusting herself off as best she could. Then she returned her attention to the bar, now broken off at the base of the balcony. The metal was a little warm from the stress. She simply bent the bar to one side, then began working on the next. This time she was careful not to stand directly below the fractured bar, in case any more concrete showers were spilled. It didn’t take long to decimate a large section of the railing, wide enough to fit her broad shoulders through. She gripped the outer bars of the gap and raised herself again, easily lifting her bodyweight up until she could see over the verge of the balcony. Then higher and further, getting her chest and torso through the gap. She twisted her body as she pulled herself up, ensuring she kept down low, within the window’s blind spot. Crouched, she now stood on the balcony of her intended. She reached up to the door handle, the access into the flat itself. It too was locked, merely one more minor obstacle in a series. None of which had offered any hope of subduing her. She risked a glance through the window, ready to leap forward. If he saw her then stealth would have to be replaced by speed. She was confident that she could be in and upon him within seconds, should it become necessary. There was no sign of her quarry however. She reached up for the handle and took a firm grasp. Bracing her grip against the frame with one thumb, she exerted her strength and the handle came free with a pop. She reached her thumb into the hole left beneath the handle and eased a portion of the metal frame out like a chef moulding pastry. She expanded on the whole, bending the metal framework and snapping off lumps of plastic. She reached all fingers into the exposed cavity and wrenched out what was left of the lock. Then it was a matter of pushing the door until the catch popped with a small crunch. She was in. Now it was just a matter of... A man walked absently into the room. He saw Suzie standing there and his jaw dropped. He just stared at her, not knowing what to say. How do you react to a skimpily clad female bodybuilder suddenly appearing in your home? "What the fuck?" Suzie smiled at him - a cruel and chilling expression. "Hi," she crooned. "I’m from the Delphi Agency." He stared a moment, stock still in shock at the intrusion. Then he acted, leaping to one side with urgent fear. He reached the sideboard, the end cupboard, and turned as she pounced towards him. He raised the gun - it was already primed and waiting. He lifted it and for a fractional moment it was actually aimed at her. Then her hand was about his and the gun was forced upwards. Her grip was tight, crushing his fingers around the gun, pinning it within his grasp. She held his hand in her own powerful fist, lifting his aim up and harmless towards the ceiling. He was shuddering in pain, her grip crushing his hand. She regarded him a few moments, totally cool and in control. "I take it from your reaction that you’ve heard of us," she remarked. Her intended wasn’t listening, too busy wincing in pain, trying to prise his hand free by clawing at her grip with his other. "And also that you can guess why we were hired," she added. "You know why I’m here. Rest assured, this little toy ain’t going to help you none." She began squeezing as she said this. His pain erupted into pure agony. A wet crunching sounded as his hand was pulverised within her grip, bones splintering and popping like a handful of Cornflakes. She ripped the gun free, not releasing her grip. The pulped mess of his hand tore through her fingers - streamers of flesh, tendrils of wet meat. Muscle and fragments like shrapnel splattered free. She lifted the gun up before him; her hand a gory mess, coated as it was with the remnants of his. Then she squeezed again, fingers digging into the metal. Veins popped up all along her forearm - layered muscles hardened beneath the skin. Her biceps leapt up, hard and bulging. The metal began to buckle. Before his very eyes, she crushed the weapon as though it was no more solid than a beer-can. Whatever doubts he had previously harboured about his current situation were immediately alleviated. He truly was in deep trouble. She cast the gun aside and turned her attention back to him. He stood, still in a state of shock, his ruined hand cupped beneath the opposite armpit. He met her eyes then dissolved into hysterical panic. Suzie turned back to him and grinned, menacing. She raised her hands to him, pointing her thumbs forward. He began to stagger backwards but she caught hold of his upper arms, sliding her thumbs into his armpits. The thumbs sank deep into the flesh, hard and penetrating. He gasped in pain as with an audible pop, the thumbs punctured and ripped upwards into the joints. Her fingers clawed, threatening to tear his arms right off his torso. One look at her bulging biceps and it was perfectly apparent that should she want to, she could do just that. Then she released him away, pulling her thumbs out of his flesh. "I just winged you," she told him. "A little ligament damage, that’s all, a few crushed nerves. Nothing a good micro-surgeon can’t repair." He hugged himself, gasping in pain and shock. His arms moved dully and felt light. In fact, there was a certain clumsiness about his whole body. Without further warning, he collapsed. Suzie smiled and stalked slowly over to him, turning his body onto his back with a toe. She stepped over him and slowly lowered her body to sit astride him. She sat herself on his thighs, unfolding his useless arms from his chest and casting them to either side where they fell like broken wings. Her hands began caressing his chest, roughly massaging his pecs. She assessed him with mock awe. "Look at that," she cooed sardonically. "Do you work out? Are you a tough guy?" He didn’t answer her. His eyes were shut tight, trying to blot out what was happening to him. Leaning low over him, Suzie took a careful grip on his shirt, then tore it away in one clean rip. She discarded the two shreds and assessed to physique beneath. She noted with amusement that his shoulders bore the red finger marks where she had grabbed him, his armpits still bleeding. Then her fingers began to caress, running over his naked chest. At first she was gentle, her touch so light that he could scarcely feel it. After a while she began to increase the pressure, a subtle hint of the extreme to which she was heading. Her fingers spread out wide, encompassing as much surface area as possible before squeezing in, fingers clawing his flesh. And then she crushed him. Her hands either side of his rib cage she simply squeezed and the bone casing collapsed under the pressure. Ribs popped, crunching together, a sickening, mangled sound. Air rushed from his mangled lungs in a broken hiss and his body convulsed. Suzie reined herself in, managing to hold back from simply pulverising him there and then. Instead of squashing him to a pulped jelly, she stopped as soon as his bones began snapping, leaving him with fairly superficial damage. Comparatively speaking. If he had the breath to scream, he would be screaming. Suzie was watching him in heated joy; her pulse pumping excited blood to every nerve-ending, stimulating her body into a state of hypersensitivity. She moaned with the sheer pleasure of it. "Look at me," she told him, wanting him to see her, wanting him to she what she was doing to him. His eyes, however, stayed tightly shut, preying that this wasn’t happening to him and that he would wake up at any moment. "Open your eyes." Still no response. Suzie stood, walked over to his sideboard and began searching through the draws. She was perfectly confident to leave him unattended for a few moments, there was no way he could get away from her. When she returned, retaking her position on top of him, he didn’t even seem to notice the change. She leaned down and spoke in a dangerously seductive voice. "Honey," she cooed. "Open your eyes now." Still nothing. "Last chance." Suzie grinned and sat back, checking her own body was pinning him down sufficiently. Then she took his eyelid between her finger and thumb and pulled it out, stretching the tiny flap of flesh away from his skull. She reached down with her other hand, the one holding the nail scissors she had recovered from his draw, and neatly snipped the offending flap free. He began squirming like crazy the moment she cut, bucking like a mule. Her own body pinned him and the waist, a simple hand against his chest held his torso down. His arms flailed uselessly where she had effectively winged him. All he had the power to move was his head, which shook and frothed. Madness and obscenities spilled from him and his shaking splattered a liberal spray of blood from the one opened eye. Suzie laughed at his horror, relishing his agony and pain, relishing the sense of power it filled her with. She took a few moments to enjoy her work before leaning over him again. Holding his head still by grasping his forehead and using the finger and thumb of that hand to pluck his other eyelid up. A quick snip and the job was done. Suzie watched him howling. She took one eyelid a licked the blood off of it with relish. Then she placed the flap of skin on her tongue as though it were some foreign delicacy and swallowed. He was trying not to look at her, trying to shut out the horror, but he couldn’t close his eyes. The eyeballs only moved so far and she could see where they pointed, moving her grinning face above him. She held his head tight, restricting his visual scope. Then she showed him the other eyelid. She wrenched open his mouth, clamping his jaw at full gape with her fingers, and placed the other eyelid on his tongue. She then forced his mouth closed again and held it shut. "Swallow," she ordered. Self-cannibalism was too much for him, he couldn’t do it. "Swallow," Suzie ordered, lowering her face to his. "Or your nose is next." To compound the threat, she opened the scissors and thrust them against one nostril. With a shuddering wince, he swallowed. Suzie watched with rapt attention, shuddering herself, though not in horror but in delight. She cast the scissors away, no longer requiring them. "Enough foreplay," she told him. "It’s time for you top earn your stripes." Suzie eased herself up from him, enough that she could get a grip on his trousers and rip them off his body in much the same way his shirt had gone. She’d caught his underwear at the same time and so he was now naked except for his shoes and socks. She ripped these off of his feet in the same manner, tearing the leather apart as though it were no more substantial than tissue paper. She stood over him and began to undress herself. First she balanced on one muscled leg, lifting her other to pull the trainer free. Swap repeat for the other, the she hooked thumbs into the straps of her leotard. The motion pumped her unnaturally large biceps and she held the pose a second, flexing and showing off. She continued undressing but made it into a strip-tease, folding the material low until only her jutted nipples held it in place. Then it sprung free and her breasts were exposed - huge and thrusting. He watched this display, awe-struck despite the distraction of his own physical horror. Further down, the leotard peeled away like a layer of skin, exposing bare, gleaming flesh beneath. Past rippling abdominal muscles, like cobble-stones. Then she dropped it and kicked it aside. Her leggings followed, stripped slowly down each thick thigh, each peaked calf. Suzie stood naked above him, his unblinking eyes, lubricated now by thin streams of blood instead of tears, taking in the amazing sight. "Many men have seen the sight you’re now gazing upon," she told him. "Most of them are now dead. Those that aren’t are only alive because I deemed it so. Do you understand me?" Having learnt the hard way to respond when first prompted, he nodded quickly. "Let’s see what you can do." And with that, she was over him again. He balked as she retook her position, her naked flesh repellent despite whatever sexual allure he would have felt in other circumstance. She cupped his flaccid dick in one hand, assessing him. She pulled a face as if to say ‘not bad’ and then released him again. She reached and began using the tips of her fingers to massage around his crotch and inner thigh. Her magic touch began to work. Even locked within his fear and agony, her manipulations were beginning to spark him into life. He shuddered, and this time it was despite his pain, not because of it. Her hands probed further. Her hand encircled his dick, tugging with exquisite care and it grew within her fingers. Her other hand slid around his hip then beneath him to cup one buttock. Suzie grinned, then rammed two fingers up into his anus. He gasped at the sudden intrusion, fighting against her. She forced her fingers through the clenching muscles and began to massage his prostate. "Did you know you have an on switch?" she asked as his erection throbbed into painful rigidity. "A little nerve back there that can be used equally for pleasure or pain." He let out a sigh that could have been a wince of either. Suzie eased herself onto his solid cock, sliding herself along the length of it. She gasped in pleasure, using him like a dildo. She found a comfortable place and began to ride, repeatedly impaling herself. She ached for him and forced him into her body. Every time she fell on him she simultaneously dug with her fingers, making his dick swell and shudder inside her. Lying helpless beneath her, he had no option but to let it happen. He hadn’t the strength to move, let alone retaliate. Despite the pleasure of the physical contact, the viciousness with which she abused his body ensured he gained no satisfaction from the experience, only increasingly more savage agonies. As she felt her orgasm approach, Suzie pulled her hands free, continuing the powerful rhythm with her hips. She grabbed his hands, taking the good one and the pulped mess of the other, and placing them onto her breasts. She ground his hands into her full round breasts, squeezing his fingers against her flesh. She rode him with increasing ferocity, her senses beginning to blur into purple heat. She felt the bones on his hands crumple in her grip, crushed against her magnificent bosom. She was gasping now, the cries sounding disconnected to herself from her thumping body. When the fire began to descend and her quivering subsided, she realised that his hands were still clutched within her fists. Both were gory, pulped stumps, nothing within her grasp except a sack of broken meat. She eased herself off of his still rigid pillar. Then she noticed that in the passion of the moment she’d also broken his hips. He seemed to have passed out but when Suzie grasped his throat, she saw the pinprick of fear within his pupils. He obviously thought she had finished the torture and it was now time to dispatch of him. Good. Suzie sighed appreciatively. "Only one thing makes me come harder than a good fuck," she told him. "So tell me Honey, do you want to live through this?" He nodded urgently. She smiled down at him. "Then you better be good at cunnilingus. When I say good I mean very good. I warn you, I normally sleep with women so I’m used to a very high standard." She stroked his face with fake tenderness. Then she reached into his mouth and grasped his tongue cruelly, tugging it out of his mouth to check it out. He thought she was going to tear it out at the root and began to gag in involuntary apprehension. "Relax, I'm just checking out the equipment. Never buy sight unseen." He managed to contain himself. She released his tongue and stroked his forehead. "I’m sorry Babe, it’s just not long enough. I get eaten by dykes on a regular basis. There’s no way you can do it for me." Suzie wrapped one hand about the base of his skull, taking the other and grasping his face, thumb and finger gripping his cheekbones. She lifted his head a little and then slowly began twisting, as though to snap his neck. "No," he pleaded. It was desperate, despite the weakness of his voice. "Please, no." She paused the execution but didn’t release him. "I could give you a try," she admitted slowly. "But that would mean... no, I don’t think so. It’s better like this. You wouldn’t want me to do that to you." She began applying force again, his neck actually creaking as she wrenched at the bone. "No," he yelped. "Please. Anything. I’ll do anything." Suzie released him then. "Anything?" She tried to repress an evil smile. She failed. "OK. If you're sure." He nodded. "This is going to hurt," she told him. She eased her fingers into his mouth and hooked her thumb beneath his chin, digging it up into the soft flesh. She braced her other hand against his forehead, pinning his skull down against the ground. Once she had a tight enough grip on his jaw, she tore it off. The flesh of his face tore at the mouth, two flaps of meat slapping the ligaments and muscle hanging loose. The thick roll of his tongue slopped forward and fell onto his collar. Suzie tossed the splatted, fleshy bone of his lower jaw aside, wiping the blood off and onto her breast as carelessly as a child drying their hands. He gagged at this new atrocity, trying to scream protest but the thick muscle of his freed tongue blocked his windpipe and he began choking. Suzie freed his airway and stroked him with sardonic tenderness. "I did warn you. Let’s see what lengths you’re prepared to go to in order to save your own life." She positioned herself over his deformed face. Taking his tongue and laying it over her glistening labia. Obediently, he began to comply, moving his tongue into her. She grinned and arched herself towards him. His tongue filled her, working its way deeply inside. Whatever his state, he was certainly making a concerted effort to please her. Suzie began to really heat up again, his endeavours genuinely working her up into a slow frenzy. She found herself gasping, and before too long she was crying out with each eruption. His tongue was plunged right into her, his wounded face buried between her thighs. He was as far inside her as was possible. Suzie turned her attention onto his head, watching him work. Though the blur of orgasm she concentrated on his face, wanting to see his final expression. When she begins squeezing, the tongue stops rooting around inside her. Her muscles flex and harden, thighs swamping his face. He begins gagging as he realises what’s happening, his head feels like it's about to burst. Suzie cries out as her orgasms thud through her, increasing in ferocity. She flexes harder and harder, no longer holding back but letting him have it all. The first crack shudders through him and they both feel it. His eyeballs are bulging out of the lidless sockets and with a sudden pop, one bursts out, splattering over her iron thigh. The next crack sounds more like a crunch and is followed immediately by a wet and brittle grinding. Without further resistance, the skull caves in. His scalp splits open and spills his brain in a puddle between her knees. Then the pressure of her squeezing slaps her knees together as his skull completely collapses. Suzie shrieks as an orgasm so savage it turns her senses white, thunders through her whole body. She howls her way back down to earth and regards the pulped mess between her bulging thighs. What’s left of his head could be put into a shoebox, but only if you had a scoop. She shudders her way back off him, still quivering with heat. "Oh, Honey, was that good for you too?" she manages to gasp. She regards the oily grey mess. "Shit. I think I just fucked your brains out." His tongue was still inside her and she tentatively reached between her lips to grasp the severed end. She tugged it, loving the sensation of it slipping free from her body. She regarded the length of meat, deciding whether she was finished with it or if she should take it away with her. She ran through the recipes she knew for tongue but decided against it. Anyway, she preferred it when they ate her. "You mind if I use your bathroom?" she asked the corpse. "No? Cool. I promise I won’t use up all the hot water." Suzie found her legs were still a little shaky but knew a long hot bath would soothe that. She picked up her clothes and began to explore his flat.