" Does everyone understand what's expected of 'em?", ask Sergeant Harrison of the small group of men from the Royal Flying Corp, pointing a stick up at a map situated before the classroom of fighter pilots.

Raising his hand, a squadron leader, Matt, ask the man in front of the room, " Sir..., do the Germans know of our mission...that we're coming..., with all due respect, you remembered what happened last year, half our group got wiped out."

" From my information, Matt..., the Germans know nothing...or at least that's what our intelligence tells us"

" But what if..."

" Matt...you got your orders...war's a dangerous thing...lots of bullshit..., you know it and I know it...now get your men together and head out...I believe I've made every detail of this run over France clear..., correct?"

" Yes sir..., quite clear."

" Good, now go and kill the Hun!"

" Yes sir!", replied Matthew as he stood up and said to his subordinates, " Ok boys...time to go..., everything set?"

" Yes sir, we're ready.", answered Paul, his gunner, always flying with him in the rear seat of the same single prop plane.

After leaving the building, Pilot Matthew, together with Ed, James, Joe, and Paul, strolled over to the hanger where they had their four planes. As the men got into the respective flying machines, Paul ask his boss, " Matt..., you think the Kaiser's gonna surrender pretty soon...I mean, I've heard talk that the war could be over this year, or perhaps next year?"

" Well Paul..., let's just hope that 1918 or 1919 sees the end of war all together...like they say...this is supposed to be the war that ends all wars...but I doubt it, human nature'll start another...of that I'm sure."

The engine started, all four W.W.I British planes slowly taxied to the run way where they finally took off into the sky, one after another. All dressed up in their head gear and goggles, the men flew South, eventually approaching the British Channel.

Looking at the white clouds and blue sky, Paul yelled to Matt over the sound of the engine, " Sure is beautiful up here...feels like we're at the gates of heaven!"

" Yea...but in no time, it can turn into the gates of hell...just keep your eyes open...we're just about over the beaches of France..the Germans could be anywhere now."

" But you heard Sergeant Harrison...he said..."

" I don't care...they say allot of things...it ain't his ass that's flying up here and getting shot at...!"

" Yes sir..., sorry sir...!"

" No problem..., just watch every corner of the sky."

" Yes sir."

Twenty more minutes, the small squadron of planes where over France when they turned East and headed toward enemy territory.

Moving along, the four planes stayed in formation, gracefully staying on course, flying straight on through.

His hands on his gun, Paul remarked, " Maybe the Sergeant'll be right after all...I don't see any German planes."

" Just keep looking."

Relaxed somewhat, Paul leaned back in his seat and took a deep breath, taking in the clear and crisp air. Since he didn't see any sign of the enemy yet, Paul began daydreaming a little, even forgetting about Matt's strict and careful advice.

As his mind floated around almost like one of the clouds above and below him, he was suddenly ripped back to awareness by Matt's screaming voice, " Paul..., there, at three o'clock...see it...!"

" Holy shit...I see him, man is he moving fast!"

" All right Paul, he's coming closer...fire..., shoot!"

Adrenaline in his veins now, Paul swung the mounted machine gun around and opened up, trying to hit the German craft as it came closer and closer. While firing away, Paul took note of the enemy plane, seeing its bright red color with the huge black German cross painted upon its wings and side.

" Man, is he fast...!", repeated Paul while he constantly missed, never able to catch up with the German plane, the thing acting like some phantom from hell.

" Watch out...hang on!", yelled Matt, taking his plane into a dive with the the enemy close on his tail.

His craft steady again, Matt screamed to himself and Paul. " Oh...shit, look, the bastard's going after Ed...oh no..., he got him, c'mon Ed..., bail out...!"

Less than five seconds later, Ed detached himself from the doomed plane and his parachute opened. However, while Ed thought he was safe, slowly floating downward, the super fast red thing turned around and headed straight toward Ed, maneuvering itself to avoid British fire.

" That fucken creep..., man..., he just killed Ed...!", hollered Paul.

" I know...!", replied Matt, " Let's give it to him...now!"

After Matt gave the appropriate hand commands and jesters to Joe and James, their planes a few hundred feet away, all three remaining British craft went toward the German machine, opening up at the Red Threat.

Despite their efforts, the enemy quickly ascended, hiding before the sun for a moment and then disappearing into a cloud.

" Where the fuck is he?"

" I don't know, Matt..., can't see him..he's..., oh shit, Matt...there, to your right...here he comes!"

" Hang on, Paul!", yelled Matt, turning the plane, just missing a spray of German bullets by only inches.

Coming back around, Matt cried, " Fuck..., he got James now...shit...!"

" Matt...look, Joe's on fire too...the bastard got 'em both...how the hell did he do that...he must be one damn flyer!"

Petrified with fear, the two guys watched as the German plane quickly circled around and opened fire at the two helpless pilots as they slowly drifted downward with open chutes.

" That murdering...doesn't he know there's rules even in war...you don't keep after a man when he's already down!"

" What are we gonna do, sir?"

" I'm gonna get the fucker...that's what!"

" Butt Matt...?"

" Man your post and shut up!"

A second later, it came again, emerging from a nearby cloud.

" There he is..., sir!"

" I see him..., I see the mother fucker...!", replied Matt, turning his plane around and going after the German.

To his dismay, however, the red thing quickly rotated itself over and went into a nose dive, made a U-turn and then accelerated upward toward the English plane, doing all this before Matt had a chance to react.

After hearing a burst of machine gun fire a short distance away, Matt felt a few bullets strike the underside of this craft, jolting him for a moment. Miraculously, he got his plane under control when he yelled, " Paul, see him? I think he's either under or behind us!"

Nothing, no response from the gunner.

" Paul..., he's behind us now!"

Again, Matt heard nothing. Turning his head around for a moment, Matt's fears were confirmed, Paul took it right through his system, blood and guts dripping from every part of the dead man's body, half of his chest ripped wide open!

"Fuck...!", exclaimed Matt to himself, all alone now with the German three hundred feet behind him, the distance closing.

A second time, Matt turned his head around, getting a better view of the individual in the red plane. Looking carefully, he saw a black leather head set and goggles similar to his own. As their eyes locked, a chill went down Matt's spine. Nevertheless, the other person motioned with a hand jester, telling Matt to go East, to fly deep into enemy territory.

Defenseless, the terrified Britishman complied, turning his craft around and going in the direction as ordered. Flying along, he felt the other individual's presence on his tail, a haunting force, something which radiated an evil air, a diabolical coldness the likes of which he couldn't even begin to explain.

Forty five minutes later, Matt approached an air strip. As his eyes took note of the long runway, he gradually lowered his plane until the wheels hit the solid earth. From behind him, Matt heard the wheels of the German plane do the same, staying right with him all the way. At last, he came to a halt, turning off the engine while he he took note of a few buildings a thousand or so feet away.

Inside the cockpit, Matt removed his head gear and heard the German aircraft behind him come to a halt as well, finally letting its engines go quiet. Cautiously, Matt stood up and got out of his plane, placing his feet firmly upon the asphalt and staring in the German pilot's direction.

Curious and afraid, but also angry, Matt watched the other person get out of the red plane. As the German stepped upon the runway, Matt was about to yell moral and ethical condemnations in relation to the death of his friends; however, something inside held him back. Perhaps it was the person's walk as the mysterious figure approached, the black leather stuff still covering the individual's face.

Measuring the creature off, Matt was impressed with the elegant stride, an absolutely gracious gait, but nevertheless filled with a darker mystery, something reminding Matt of a black cat strolling through a lonely alley late at night. Looking the person over as the figure got closer, Matt started at the thigh high boots, then the black leather pants, the waist length leather jacket of the same color, and finally staring at a white scarf about the person's neck.

Frightened by the approaching image, Matt looked on as the boots hit the hard surface, getting louder and louder. To his utter surprise, when the German was less than fifty feet away, he realized that the black boots had elevated heels, a sight that caused the wheels in his head to begin turning, confusing Matt.

Before he could even come up with some mental explanation, the person came to a halt and just stood there for five seconds, still as a statue. Next, Matt watched the stranger's right arm move up and remove the goggles and head set, slowly pulling the stuff off.

Poor Matt's eyes widened when the person's head was finally exposed, revealing a long, straight, but fluffy mane of beautiful blond hair, waving slightly in the gentle breeze.

" It's a cunt..., I don't believe it...!", mumbled Matt to himself, really surprised at the sight of an attractive woman before him, looking at him with a seductive, yet stern, face.

When the scarf came off from the around the lady's neck, Matt was staring straight at the Blue Max, an award given only to the best, one of Germany's highest decorations.

As the sun's light gently reflected from the metal, the woman again came closer, until she finally stood right before his awe struck face, her height equal to his. Shaking, Matt didn't know what to do or say while her blue eyes dug into him, weakening the man, making his legs feel numb. Without even thinking about it, Matt felt superiority pour fourth from her stature, a magnetic and controlling disposition few people possess.

Finally, Matt got himself together and said while saluting, " Ma'am..., I'm Matthew Johnson...member of the Royal Flying corp, serial number 1826854."

A smile on her lips, the woman replied in English with a German accent, " Good..., Mr. Johnson, and I'm Erica Hausser, German Air Force...and for my serial number...let's just say it's higher than yours."

From the epaulets on her jacket, Matt deduced she was a lietanant major, having a rank higher than his. In the distance, Matt heard a couple of trucks approach, coming from one of the larger buildings and carrying a few soldiers, five to be exact. At last the vehicles came over when the Germans quickly got out and stood at attention before the sexy lady.

" Gentleman...", said Erica, " Take care of my plane and his...his gunner's dead...as for him, he's coming with me."

" Yes ma'am.", replied a sergeant as he and the others went to work with only one guy remaining in the second and smaller truck, looking more like a jeep.

Sitting down on the back seat of the smaller vehicle, Ms. Hausser said to Matt, " Get in."

"Ok."

After he sat next to her, Erica leaned forward slightly and ordered the driver, " To my office...schnell!"

" Yes ma'am."

In no time, Matt and Erica stepped off the truck and headed toward a door, Matt following the woman. While he strolled, the guy really had to admit to himself that she was indeed pretty, " What a figure..., what a butt...", mumbled Matt, seeing her curvaceous behind present every detail of itself from the well fitting black leather pants, going well with the boots and jacket. Checking her out, he was immediately reminded of a dominatrix, all she needed was a whip and she'd be perfect, the perfect femdom mistress.

Inside the structure now, Matt was lead to another door which opened into her office. The entrance then closed behind him, Matt heard, " Mr. Johnson...take a seat."

Surprised at her "hospitality", Matt sat down on a sofa facing her large oak desk which rested a few feet before a fire place having a large portrait of Kaiser William directly over it.

Standing between the fire place and her desk, Erica ask, " Care for a drink?"

A little tired and exhausted, Matt nonetheless responded, " Yes..., ok."

Watching the woman, Matt saw her stroll over to a nearby table, pour two drinks, and come over to him, handing him one of the glasses.

Despite his hatred of her previous acts of cruelty, the man found himself saying, " Thanks."

" No problem."

After she returned behind her desk, the woman downed her booze quickly and removed her black leather jacket, hanging the sharp and elegant thing over the back of her chair. A few ounces of the liquid down his throat, Matt looked up, seeing a white blouse on the lady, the Blue Max still around her neck, hanging on by way of a chain under her collar.

" Ok, Mr. Johnson...or shall I call you Matt..., if you help me a little, we'll be friends."

Finished with the drink, he placed the glass down on the cushion beside himself and ask, already knowing what she wanted, " What are you taking about?"

" Oh..., c'mon, Matt...you know what I want."

" Yea..., but I can't do that...that would be treason on my part."

" Sometimes treason can bring great things...may of your countrymen would call George Washington a traitor...look at the Yanks now..., their county's getting more powerful than England itself..., treason didn't seem to hurt them."

" That's different..."

" It's always different...that's what they all say."

" Just what...to be more specific...do you want from me?"

" Tell me about your future flight plans...where's your next strike supposed to be?"

" How would I know...they don't tell me everything."

" Oh really?", ask Erica, sounding sarcastic.

" Yea..., I'm not that important to the British Empire...just a regular pilot."

A grin on her face, she answered, " Very regular...considering how easy it was for me to shoot down all you clowns today."

" Yea. yea...", replied Matt, looking down, an embarrassed expression on his face.

" You gonna give me some info...?

" No."

" I see...ok, in that case I'll just change my approach a little."

Slowly, the temptress strolled from the room, pushing open the door, and yelling to a guard, " Bring in that Brit...you know who I'm taking about...the one from before!"

" Yes ma'am.", was the reply as the guard left.

Leaving the door slightly open, Erica returned to Matt and stood next to the sofa, looking down at him. Returning the gaze, the guy ask, " Why did you kill those men...they were already down, they bailed out...that's nothing but murder."

" Murder's whatever you call it...I do what it takes to win...the end justifies everything else."

" No it doesn't..."

Before he could speak on, he heard the guard's boots return together with another man, a prisoner. When the sentry left and shut the door behind him, Matt jumped up from his seat, exclaiming, " Victor..., what the...!"

In a faint voice, the beaten and bloody guy responded, " I'm sorry Matt...but she made me do it."

" What...what are you talking about?"

" What he means to say...", mentioned Erica, " Is that he compromised your secret airfield in Belgium."

" Fuck..., you bitch!", screamed Matt, " You mean you tortured him to get that information!"

" You got it...and at this time our planes are probably bombing the shit outta the place."

Frustrated, Matt paced back and forth a few times until he gave Erica a long and dirty look, hearing, " And you're gonna tell me all you know."

" Go to hell!"

" We're already in hell...you just don't realize it yet."

" Fuck you...whore!"

A smile on her attractive face, Erica strolled over to her desk, opened the right hand drawer, and removed a pistol, aiming it at defeated Victor.

" No...!", cried the abused man, a bullet suddenly going into his chest, throwing him to the floor, killing him instantly.

At the sound of the discharge, the guard quickly returned, hearing an order from the sexy lady, " Take this pig outta here...he's dead...and when you're gone, tell the two sentries down the hall to come here."

" Yes ma'am."

" You're a murdering cunt!", yelled Matt, watching Victor dragged away from under his armpits.

" And you're nothing but a piece of dirt...I'll crush you..., you British Bastard..., I'll bust your balls!"

" Fuck you!"

" Is that all you can say?"

" You'll never get away with this...when this fucken war's over, you'll pay!"

" But before that...I'm gonna indulge myself.", replied Erica, smiling and pouring herself another drink.

Less than a minute later, two uniformed men appeared. Turning to the guys, Erica commanded, " Strip him...I want him exposed before me!"

The drink in hand, Erica placed her other hand on her hip, shifted her weight, and watched as Matt was overpowered by the two soldiers, his clothing torn off piece by piece as easily as one peels the skin from a banana.

After Matt was naked, she said, " Cuff him..., his wrists and ankles, I want his hands behind his back!"

" Yes ma'am."

Through, the two men left, leaving the British prisoner on his back, his hands beneath his frame.

Alone with her captive, Erica strolled up to the immobilized man, stopped before him, and gazed down into his eyes, saying, " Now tell me what you know...where are they gonna build the next air field?"

" I don't know."

" I don't think so...your Victor friend told me that at a pilot's briefing he was told their gonna construct another air strip...the location of which would be revealed in a few days...since I shot Victor down two days ago...that info should be in your head by now...you Brits try to work pretty fast."

" Piss on you..., bitch!"

" Ha, ha, piss on me...?", laughed Erica, drinking the last remains of the booze while going on, " No..., it's piss on you, you fuck..."

Back at her desk, the lady put down the glass and reached for the medal around her neck, cautiously removing it as if it were sacred. The object removed, Erica began unbuttoning her shirt, finally taking the white thing off. Her bra off as well, the woman leaned against her desk with her nice ass and removed both thigh high boots. In the end, she stripped herself of her pants and panties, exposing her total and sensuous frame right before Matt's eyes.

With her bare feet, Erica went to the guy and stepped over his head, placing one foot to each side of his skull. Looking up, Matt saw her place her hands on her hips and stare down into his eyes, asking, " Where's the new airstrip?"

" Fuck you..., slut!"

" As you wish.", answered Erica, allowing a straight line of yellow fluid to go from her cunt to his lips.

Struggling, he tried moving his frame, but she simply moved along with him, pissing away at him, enjoying herself.

" You whore...you bitch...go fuck yourself!"

Done pissing, Erica stepped back and returned to her desk, this time slipping into only the elegant black leather stiletto boots. Slowly, she came back to her victim and stopped, standing before his waist. At a quaistatic pace, Erica raised her right boot and firmly brought it down atop his cock, pressing harder and harder.

" Give me the information I want."

" No..."

Harder and harder she pressed until he screamed out, " No, please..., stop!"

" Well...? Gonna tell me or not?"

" Ok, ok...!"

Her foot removed, she again ask, " Where is it?"

" It's up your cunt.", responded Matt, getting himself back together somewhat.

" Oh is it really...you, mean like your dick being up my cunt..., I saw the way you looked at me when you followed me into this building."

" You're ugly inside..., your guts are as ugly as hell itself!"

" And I suppose that's because I'm such a bad lady?"

" Go to hell and stay there!"

" If I'm bad and my insides are ugly, then I take it that yours are pretty...I mean, it's just a logical deduction...don't you think?"

" Fuck you."

" My, my...you're so courageous...even in the face of almost certain death."

Turning around, the sexy lady went back to the desk, opened a drawer, and extracted a long knife, its shiney blade reflecting some of the room's light.

Upon her return, Erica squatted next to Matt and inserted the blade into the lower part of his belly. While listening to his screams, getting louder and louder, she began cutting, slowly slicing away the skin covering his lower abdomen until she pulled it away, exposing his intestines!

" There..., now I can see what you look like inside, how nice...not bad, guess you're pretty...you must be real good."

" No, please...!", moaned Matt, looking down at himself, going into shock.

After the last flap of flesh about his belly was tossed aside, the bitch stepped over his waist and sat down on his dick, facing the guy's head.

" Why don't you get it up now?", ask the blond sadist, slowly dipping her hands into his insides, uncoiling his small intestine, stretching the bloody and slimy stuff further and further out.

At last, when she had at least six feet of the sausage shaped organ removed from his body, the sick cunt hung it around her neck and began bouncing her ass up and down a few times, saying, " C'mon...let's do it...you and me...I wanna feel your dick inside me...why ain't you getting hard..., what's wrong...ain't the sight of my beautiful tits good enough for you?"

" Please, don't...!", moaned the man, his pain reaching something beyond imagination.

" Tell me what I wanna hear."

" Please, stop!"

" Tell me!"

Still conscious, Matt begged, " Morphine..., give me morphine and I'll tell you!"

" Ok...", replied Erica, removing his bloody intestine from her neck, raising her ass from his waist, and going to a cabinet on the room's other side, coming back with a syringe.

After she popped the cap off, the lady injected the stuff into the upper part of Matt's left arm, and said, " There...in a few minutes you shouldn't feel anything."

Sure enough, despite his mutilated condition, the large dose numbed his pain, bringing him back to reality somewhat.

" Where's that place?"

Strengthened by the drug's effect, Matt's defiance came back, causing him to say, " I'll tell you shit."

" Oh yea?"

" Yea!"

" Fine...I've got the same for you."

Her body rotated, Erica squatted over Matt's face, allowing her beautiful behind to hang over this his eyes. Two seconds later, she defecated, shitting right on his head, dropping three pieces of crap on the guy.

" How's that?", ask the German lady mockingly, reaching over for his shirt and using it to wipe her ass, throwing it then to the side.

Humiliated, Matt watched her stand up and talk down at him, saying, " What a pathetic sight..., what a piece of garbage."

" You're garbage...!"

Using her left boot, Erica raised it and then stepped into his guts, twisting and turning the sole of her leather masterpiece.

Even with all the morphine, Matt yelled out, " Ohhhhh...no, please...!"

" Die mother fucker...!"

With shit on his face, Matt replied, " Please...stop it, no, I can't take it any longer...!"

" Then tell me."

" No, please stop."

For the next minute, the lady twisted away at his insides, really giving it to him, putting him through the darkest experience of this life!

Finally, she removed her boot, blood all over it now, and then stuck it before his face, saying, " Here..., lick it off, do it...lick off your own insides!"

" I can't...I can't move...I'm too weak...!"

" You piece of shit...where's that air strip...tell me now!", yelled Erica, kicking his head now, doing it four times.

Out of the blue, the sick lady ask, " Are you a cunt licker...do you lick your girlfriend's pussy?"

Semiconscious and a little delirious with fever, the dying man ask in confusion, " What...?"

" Yea...I bet you are...", replied Erica to his light sounds as she squatted, picked up the knife again, and pried his mouth open with her other hand, pulling away at his tongue.

" No..., no...!", sobbed Matt, the sharp blade coming closer and closer. A second later, he briefly tasted metal as the silver thing sliced through his soft flesh, removing his tongue.

Looking at the detached thing in her hand, Erica spread her thighs apart and slowly inserted the bloody organ up into her hairy snatch, using the knife's handle to push it all the way into her vaginal cavity.

" Ohhhh...yea!, moaned Erica, " It's really good...bet this thing made a lot of women happy...oh, yes...yea...!"

Her right hand's middle finger going up her opening, the lady found her hot clit and started massaging that most sensitive spot, getting herself off until she finally came, blood constantly dripping from her cunt, looking like her monthly cycle paid an early visit.

All that emerged from Matt's mouth were incomprehensible sounds, the moans and groans of agony.

Knowing there was nothing she could get out of him, the perverted female went to her desk and took up the gun. By her prisoner again, she went low, squatting before his head. The pistol aimed at his left temple, she fired, sending a piece of lead into his brain, putting out the lights for good!


The End.