FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Scavenger: Part 2

By Cimmaron Spirit

Commission for Giza

**Warning: this story contains: cyborgs, nanobots, soft vore, absorption, oral vore, macro growth, size difference, f/solo sexual acts, violence, rampage and destruction. If you aren't 18 or older, or if none of these are up your alley, interest you, or weird you out, then you might as well go find something else to do. But otherwise, enjoy!

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It was a M1911 semi-automatic pistol, built in the millions before the End War, and with many gunsmith's trying to replicate it even today. Though even the newest of the originals were almost 250 years old, they were still reliable and sought after today. Chambered with the .45 ACP cartridge in mind, just a bit over two pounds, and easily concealable, it was one of the best weapons that could be found in the post-apocalypse.

"Been gone a while there, Stormy," the lion who held the gun to her head said. "Jack doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Must have been a grunt for Jack's criminal empire, searching for her. She thought she had seen him before as part of a shakedown operation in a town she had been going through. He wasn't much of a fighter, more of a scout, easily startled. His mane was patchy in spots, and the outfit he wore was more threadbare than usual. Must have been looking for her for a long time.

Stormy knew that a search to find her was bound to happen, even if the amount she owed Jack was miniscule compared to some big shots.

"Two months, huh?" Stormy said, her voice calm, a smile creeping across her lips unseen to her "captor." She was going to have some fun with this lion.

"Gonna have to make an example of ya," the lion said. "You should have wished you died."

"An example, huh?" she replied. "Well, I don't think that's necessary."

"Don't you fuck with me you bitch," the lion snarled, shoving the gun against her temple harder. He was rather pushy now, a bit more aggressive than she remembered this lion being, most likely because he's underestimating her. Which was good. For Stormy.

"Now, do you have the money, or am I taking your body back?"

"You can try," Stormy said with a little smirk, before she pushed her head against the gun. The pistol slid right through the hood right up to the trigger, and she then bucked her head back, ripping the gun out of the lion's hand while still lodged in her head.

"Ow!" the lion cried out as his trigger finger bent and was forced to let go of the gun. "What the fuck?" The lion shouted, staring at the gun inside her head.

Stormy turned around, her blue eyes now flashing a mechanical yellow. She put a single finger on the butt of the gun that was half buried in her head, and pushed the rest of it in, making their merc's eyes widen, and he tried to prevent himself from heaving up his lunch. "But guns aren't enough to stop me."

The lion reached into his trench coat and pulled out another gun, a smaller 9mm Beretta, and emptied a full clip into the wolf's torso. Stormy didn't even flinch as every bullet hit her body, piercing the jacket she wore, and then was instantly absorbed by the nanomachines that made up her entire figure now. The jacket then mended itself, as if nothing had happened.

"Holy shit lady," the lion screamed, scrambling away from the lion. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Suddenly his hand got caught in the sand, then his other, then both legs, all wrapped and constrained. Stormy slowly walked up to the lion who struggled against the very ground itself, unable to move at all. Her amalgamation of the base went even better than she expected, able to command the nanobots that protected it above ground.

Stormy bent down right in front of the lion and grinned. "Nothing's wrong with me. In fact, I feel wonderful! Never been better!" The wolf grinned, before grabbing the lion's jacket, and heaving him up into the air with barely any effort, the sand that held him letting go on command. Her other hand quickly morphed into a perfect, factory produced M1911, and pointed it straight at the lion's head, who was petrified of watching this woman, so small and petite, easily lift him up and turn her hand into a gun pointed right at his head.

"But then you had to come along and disturb my tranquility, and I cannot allow that."

The lion was whimpering now scared shitless. The smell wasn't that pleasant.

"So, here's the deal, okay?" Stormy started. "You clearly want to be left alive, right?" The lion nodded. "And I want to be left alone. So, if I let you go, you will go back to Jack, tell him that you couldn't find me, and that I must be dead. Say some townsfolk found my body in the river or something, okay?" The lion nodded again.

"And I will know if you lie to me," Stormy said. "I have my ways."

Stormy let go, and the lion dropped, landing on his knees in front of her.

"So, are we clear?"

"Y-yes," the lion whispered.

"Are we clear?" Stormy barked louder.

"Yes!" the lion replied.

"Good. Now get out of here."

The lion turned and scampered, running off to the south.

"ISAAC, is it implanted in him?"

Affirmative. Nanobots have infiltrated his body and established themselves in the brain, eyes and ears. You will be able to see and hear what he does.

"Good. Because Jack's not going to buy it, and they are going to find me."

Are you sure, Stormy? It seemed perfectly reasonable what you requested of him, and he has nothing to gain for turning on you.

"But Jack can't let me live. Not so long as I owe him. And that bastard of a fox can read people like a book." Stormy paced back and forth while the supercomputer that was her body began to formulate possible plans, scenarios and outcomes for what could happen. Eventually they boiled down to two possibilities: run. Run as far away as possible. But Jack will always be hounding her, and although her body couldn't be destroyed, and would, in 99.999% of cases, always come out on top. The .001 possibility of failure was only if the mercs somehow had access to a computer, then the ability to create a program to shut down her nanobots, and then hack into the nearly impervious security software that each nanobot contained to send the virus into her body and her being unable to evolve quickly enough to counteract it. Even an electromagnetic pulse, the thing that destroyed virtually all technology in the End War and threw the world into the stone age would only impact most, but not all of her nanobots. So long as a handful survived, and given enough time and materials, it could restore her to full operation. Might take years, might take an entire army of material, but she could.

But what kind of life would it be to always fighting off armed soldiers, time and time again as they find her? That was no life at all. Jack would hunt her down to the ends of the earth to find her, just to make a point that you can't cross Jack.

So that left Option Two. The more fun option.

Stormy's smile grew even wider. "ISAAC, I think it's time we undergo a full fledged test of our abilities."

Of course, Stormy.

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Born into a life of abject poverty, enslaved by a roving gang of marauders that killed his family, trained and brutalized as a gladiator to entertain bandits and bloodthirsty spectators, and finally escaping and starting his own mercenary company, and after years of fighting, backstabbing and ruthless actions he became one of most powerful warlords in the Wasteland. The life of Jack was at once both incredible and mundane: violence and success in a wasteland that had so much of the first, and so few of the later. The fact that he managed to gain so much power and wealth in the face of virtually insurmountable odds that should have killed him or broken his will made Jack all the more unique and special, his luck and skill recognized, admired and feared.

He controlled two hundred farms that provided food for tens of thousands, and he had command of every fresh water well within five hundred miles of his center of power, a massive palace he had built over years at the site where the village he was born in had been razed to the ground. Every trader or scavenger that entered his territory was required, by his decree, to pay a tax to him, and to hire only his followers as support. The number of mercenaries he had under control was unknown: it was either just a few dozen, or many hundreds. His rule was brutal: he didn't care about the common person, and the only time he cared about murder or robbery was if it impacted him or his loyal mercs or followers, and even then it depended on his mood. And if Jack's followers were the perpetrator, there would be no justice for the victim's.

Stormy herself had been cowed by Jack and his goons, and for a good reason. She had been part of Jack's mercenary corps at one time, when it was the only thing she could see getting her out of the hell hole she had been raised in. But it turns out that the mercs were just as ill treated as the people they ruled over, and had virtually signed their lives away to Jack and his capricious mood swings. When she tried to leave after one village raid too many, the warlord was in one of his more jovial days. Had it been the wrong one, he would have just shot her. Instead, he only demanded that she pay him for whatever scrap and salvage she could find equal to the price he had set on a person's daily water ration, which was about half a day's work, times a thousand.

What he declined to tell her was that there was interest of another water ration a day, plus the cost of whatever supplies she had to buy from him. And she had to supply him with something new every two weeks, or he would put a bounty on her head. He had been generous with what she could bring, something somewhat valuable: guns were always popular, and old machinery or computer parts were sent to technicians who was building new equipment to further cement their hold. Finding new wells and fertile land were also welcomed, though never as valuable.

But no matter what she found, it was never estimated to be worth enough to really make a dent in the debt, which grew and grew with every passing day. She had been struggling for several months to find just enough to ensure he didn't shot her on the spot. That was why she went to the military base, the last hope she had to find something.

What she found though, was freedom. Her way out of this cycle of debt and interest and groveling and begging and bartering that had dominated her life for years at this point. Now, she had the tool to end this forever.

Receiving new readings from Subject 001, ISAAC intoned.

"Good, put it up," Stormy said.

She stopped in her tracks and her eyes were suddenly filled with the vision of what the lion she had spared was seeing. He was standing in the Grand Hall of Jack's palace, built out of stone and broken concrete blocks, hauled many miles from old ruins of cities. On the walls were mosaics of multi-colored stones showing Jack's accomplishments, framed with wood carvings and red curtains, and the floor was another mosaic showing the vast lands he ruled, a thousand miles from end to the other. There were armed guards with rifles and knives, quite a few well dressed men and women chatting with each other, and a few more scantily clad men and women serving food and drinks and playing their seductive game with the followers of Jack who had worked their way up to sitting with him in his throne room.

The lion looked up from one particularly seductive canine to see Jack, sitting on a throne made of the guns and weapons of a thousand other raiders, mercenaries and militiamen he had killed to get himself to this exalted spot. The fox was heavy built, and could be considered fat, though Stormy knew well enough that he was still strong and powerful, capable of amazing feats of strength and brutality at a moments notice. He wore a black suit, custom made to fit by a special tailor, with a bandolier of bullets, and a heavily beaten, well worn black Stetson. He looked like a cowboy from those old books and movies, only a few of which anybody could have seen after so many years.

"So, Vince, your back," Jack said, not even looking at the lion, instead looking over his gold plated, modified Desert Eagle, .50 caliber. It could really pack a punch, and Stormy shuddered as he remembered seeing what it did to one poor soul who was on the wrong end of the gun.

"Yes, Jack," he said. "I didn't find Stormy."

"Oh? The fox said. "And yet you are back here."

"Because she is dead."

"Dead you say?" Jack said, raising an eyebrow and glancing at the lion.

"Yes. A farmer said he saw a body floating down the White River, but was unable to fish it out. It was wearing her blue and grey coat."

Jack looked at his gun again, sliding the action back, before cleaning a small bit of dirt he saw on it. It suddenly turned toward the lion, and fired.

Vince screamed in pain as he fell to his side, his knee shattered. Stormy nearly fell over as well, the momentum of the vision she was seeing dragging her along.

"Don't you fucking dare lie to me," Jack said. "You saw her, and she fucking scared you, didn't she?" The fox rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't have sent the fucking scaredy cat, now should I?"

Vince was unable to stand, and just lay on the floor, crying in pain and agony.

"Now, let's try this again. You have another knee, so if you want to keep it, then you better tell me. Where. Is. That. Bitch!"

Vince struggled to gasp out some words. "I... I saw her come out of a hole in the ground. Near that old military base that was long gone, the one that every scavenger says is gone. But she... she is a monster. A fucking monster! I fired a full clip of bullets into her, and she didn't flinch. I had a gun to her head, and it just... melted into her!" the lion was sobbing now. Most likely accepting that no matter what he said, he was a dead man.

Jack looked at the lion incredulously. "What?"

"I tried to get away, but that little wolf picked me up with one hand, and lifted me about her head. She was never that strong before! She... she is a killer now. She's changed. I have no idea how she did it, but..."

Jack got off his throne and bent down beside the lion, until his eyes were locked with the lion's. Stormy felt a chill run down her spine.

"You telling me the truth this time? She didn't just give you a wedgie and humiliated you, like the little pansy you are?" Jack whispered.

"I am. I swear to gods, to spirits, to whatever. It shouldn't be possible. But it is. She can absorb bullets, break guns, super strength... she even turned her own hand into a gun at one point!"

Jack stared at the lion for a long, long time. Even Stormy could feel ice running through her veins, though she was a hundred miles away.

Jack finally pushed Vince over onto his side, and went up to his throne. "Well, he's not lying this time. I can see it in his eyes," he told the assorted mercenaries and courtiers of his kingdom that all gathered around. "I don't believe it, myself, but he's telling what he says is the truth. So, Stormy has taken a level in badass, huh?" Jack pondered for a moment. "Must be a trick. Maybe some bulletproof armor, a slight of hand trick. Either way, we need to find her, and take her out." He turned to one merc, a lynx, standing nearby. "Karla! Go round up a squad, the best men, and go to that old base. Take one of the vehicles to get there ASAP." She saluted with a fist over her heart before running away. He turned to another courtier, a lithe pony. "The price on her head has been tripled. Lionel, go tell the bounty hunters." The horse bowed, and left.

Jack then turned to the lion on the floor. "And someone, take him downstairs, get his leg fixed up, then get some more info from him." Two guards came up, grabbed the lion by the arms, and, somewhat painfully, started dragging him away.

"ISAAC, end playback." The sights disappeared from her eyes, leaving her standing in the desert like before, surrounded by nothing for miles.

Course of action, Stormy?

Stormy thought. She had left the base a couple of days ago and started to head south toward where Jack's headquarters was. The lion had traveled a full week, muttering to himself about what he was going to do, before he finally got back to the Palace. But with her new body and not needing to eat or sleep, as well as her faster speed just walking, and even managing to avoid every farm and town along the way to not give herself away, she was only a few hours away from Jack. He wouldn't be expecting her to show up so quickly, or to go straight to his palace. He would be expecting her to either run away or hole up in the base.

"Well, we've come this far. Might as well cut off the head of the snake now."

Very well.

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The young jaguar was bored out of his mind. He had joined Jack's mercenary force several months before to go travel, get into fights, have adventures, and get away from his drunk father and controlling mother and the possible lifetime of back breaking work trying to grow food in this miserable wasteland.

But he hadn't been sent on a single mission yet. No tribute missions, no caravan guard protections, nothing. Just told to stand guard at Jack's Palace, ensure no one comes in that doesn't deserve to come in or means harm on Jack. There were so many poor sods coming in, begging for assistance or help, then the people who gathered all their life savings to ask for a group of mercenaries to protect them, wealthier merchants looking to grease the wheels of commerce, prostitutes looking to make a pay day.

The jaguar sighed, leaned up against the brick walls of the outer walls, and stared up to the bright blue sky with the hot sun beating down on him. Anything was better than dealing with mules and his family, but this was stretching it. But he knew better than asking for a better job... if they don't just laugh in his face, they would just shoot him and leave him to rot for questioning them.

He'd already seen a lot of people going that route.

The feline's ears perked as he heard shuffling footsteps approach. He looked up, to see a figure in a grey and blue coat walk up to the gate, their face masked by a helmet and a long scarf that flowed behind them, but from the grey tail and the two triangular ears he could see, he could tell it was a wolf.

The jaguar grabbed his rifle, a handmade pipe gun made from odds and ends and given to newbies in the gang, and pointed it at the figure. "Halt! State your name and intentions."

The wolf stopped. Then took another step.

"Stop!" he barked.

The wolf took another step.

"I will shoot you!" His voice wavered a moment.

The wolf continued walking toward him. She was just a few feet in front of him now.

"I mean it!" The jaguar said, trembling. No one had ever not stopped before.

He pulled the trigger, the bullet landing in the ground a foot from her. She stopped.

"You're going to have to aim better than that," she shouted back, looking down where the bullet had hit the ground.

"What are you doing here? And your name?"

The wolf looked up to the jaguar, and continued walking closer.

He pulled the trigger again, but it clicked empty.

Suddenly the wolf was upon him, at least a foot taller than him.

"And you only had one shot," she said, grabbing the barrel of the gun. "You should have at least tried to hit me."

She twisted her hand, and suddenly the barrel bent straight up, and then around again until it been twisted like a pretzel. The jaguar stared at the gun, the useless piece of metal in his hands no good anymore.

"As for your questions, I'm here to settle an old score." She pulled down the scarf, revealing the blue chevron under her eye. The jaguar's eyes went wide. It was Stormy. He had heard the stories of what the scout had reported back, of Stormy being a monster and able to absorb bullets and eat guns and super powerful.

"So, if you want to still be alive tomorrow... run."

The jaguar blinked, then took off, sprinting away from his guard post.

Stormy grinned. Apparently she was already a boogyman to the superstitious and weak. Which was perfect. This was going to be easy. And fun.

She went up to the gate, a metal door two feet thick and could only be lifted by a control system inside. She reached into a crevice in the wall behind where the jaguar was before, and hit the buzzer.

A moment later, the sound of metal grinding on metal echoed, signalling that the door was starting to lift up. Stormy walked to the big gate and marched in.

"Welcome traveler. What do you..." a well dressed German Shepherd started to say to Stormy before his eyes went wide. "Wait... "

Stormy's arm reached out and grabbed the German Shepherd by the tie around his neck even though he was several feet away. She pulled him right up to him.

"Hello Johnny," Stormy smiled. "Miss me?"

"Stormy! I... I..."

"So, you're a greater now, huh? Don't even get to hold a gun, huh? Or even need to to line your pockets, huh? What did you do to get this cushy job, huh?"

Johnny the German Shepherd was one of the most corrupt and greedy bastards Stormy had ever meant. He had been her commander at one point, always skimming off a bit from their raids and protection rackets to give him some more money, and then forcing "favors" for him to get just a fraction of what people deserved back. She knew well enough he got this job (and the clothes) by shaking down everyone that came in, encouraging some extra goods and materials or favors to get into his hands to "speed up" their meetings with Jack, even though he had basically no power to actual control that, just to make things slow and arduous, and costly, for those that needed the help.

"You... your a bit... taller than I remembered."

"Oh really? That's flattering of you," Stormy replied.

"Stormy... what the hell are you doing here?" he croaked, the tie constraining his air passage. "You are basically a dead woman."

Stormy chuckled. "Oh, I don't think so." He smile began to dissolve, her blue eyes turning yellow, the scarf around her neck melting away. "And, I think you, Johnny, you scumbag asshole, are going to face my anger first."

Stormy's clothes began to melt away into her body, the backpack with all the stored nanobots from her feast back at the base and the other snacks she had picked up along the way now all merged with her body, and from a taller than normal six feet, her body soon began to expand and grow, past seven, eight, nine, until she topped off at ten feet tall. The five foot something Johnny was not quite half her size now, dragged up off the ground and hanging by his tie in her steel grip.

"What... the... fuck?" Johnny gasped out.

"Let's say that I did find something. And I do feel like sharing it with Jack. On my terms," Stormy said. Her ears perked up as she could hear a siren going off somewhere in the base. Someone must have noticed a giant naked wolf in the middle of the base. Already she could see and sense dozens of armed mercenaries running around, scrambling to deal with the intruder.

"Oh, and it looks like we are going to have some company," Stormy smiled, grabbing Johnny with her other hand around his torso, her fingers not quite long enough to touch each other, but enough to easily hold him aloft. "Good. I love to give a show."

Stormy turned the German Shepherd around until he was facing straight into the cleavage of the giant wolf. "You like this, don't you?" Stormy said. "Always found every excuse to get at my tits, huh?" Johnny was whimpering now, tail curled between his legs in shame, embarrassment and fear, though the wolf could tell he was also turned on by this.

"Of course, I got an upgrade," Stormy smirked, shaking her chest enough to make her boobs, which not only were bigger due to her larger size, but proportionally were larger than she had been. Gaining the ability to change your body basically at will had its upsides. "Want to see?"

She shoved the smaller dog right in before she got an answer, his face being nestled in between the canyon formed by her boobs along with his upper torso, his legs hanging down to her hips and the smooth spot between her legs: Stormy didn't see it necessary to show off that part of her feminine nature. Johnny gave a muffled response, trying to wiggle and move to try to escape, his hands flailing on either side. But she didn't need a single finger to hold her captive in place: the firmness of her body, the deep wedge of the German Shepherd between her breasts, and a silent command to the nanobots to keep him suspended made it unnecessary.

Stormy turned around, Johnny's legs dangling freely, and faced the two dozen or so mercs who had their weapons trained on her, ranging from cheap handmade pistols to pre-End War sniper rifles. She could see "Want to see a magic trick?"

She lifted her finger and pushed it against the back of Johnny's head. The German Shepherd gave a muffled cry before it was silenced. His arms waved in panic and his legs kicked in desperation until one limb after another touched Stormy's boobs or her abdomen and were stuck, and then swallowed up. Soon only the dog's tail was still capable of free movement as Johnny was swallowed whole by Stormy's nanomachine body.

"Fuck me," one of the mercs exclaimed, watching slackjawed with the rest as Stormy's body swallowed one of their own - a sleazy corrupt guy, true, but he was still part of Jack's gang.

"She is a fucking monster!" Several other expletives and cries of terror rose up, and a few ran away, dropping their guns. Some began to fire at her, hoping their bullets could bring her down. Soon everyone that remained was firing at well, bullets ranging from tiny 9mm to powerful .50 caliber bullets.

Every bullet fired hit the target; at Stormy's size, how could they miss? But most just bounced of ricocheted off, some were absorbed entirely. Only the more powerful rounds actually made a dent in her body, but the nanobots quickly bounced back, absorbing the lead and brass as they did so.

Stormy chuckled as the ineffective barrage of bullets did little more than tickle her body. She flexed her torso, and the last bit of the German shepherd's body was fully engulfed. She could already feel Johnny being dismantled into more material, more fuel, more nanomachines. More power.

She embraced the feeling, moaning as her body began to heat up and the pleasure centers of her enhanced body began to light up, and she allowed her body to grow again. She let herself grow to 13 feet, before turning her attention to the twenty or so people firing at her still.

She reached down and picked up one, a husky, and squeezed him in her hand until the nanobots had encased his torso in a solid block of steel. The husky screamed in terror as the grey metal fur of Stormy's body morphed over his entire body, turning him into a grey tumor like lump where her hand had been before it melted away, her fingers reforming, sharp claws glistening in the sun. The rest of her body also continued to expand until she was three times as tall as a normal person.

Stormy smirked, a new idea developing in her mind. She reached out with both hands to grab some more poor victims. In her right, a scrawny, but tough male grey fox with plenty of scars who hammered his fists against the rock hard fingers that held him even when it was clear he was just hurting himself more than her. In Stormy's left, she caught a female cat who tried to claw at her hands, snarling and screeching to escape, her claws no match for Stormy's ironhide. The giant wolf had to admire their determination to keep fighting, even when hopelessly outclassed.

Not that it was going to help them.

"Oh, are you two not happy? Apparently going up against an unstoppable growing terror didn't factor in with your life goals?" Stormy taunted with a dark grin. "Well, why not become something even greater?"

Without anymore warning, she shoved both of them into her breasts. She began to squirm as she felt the two similarly sized figures struggled between her hand and her tits, being absorbed into her and making those already round and perky boobs grow even bigger, spilling out of her hands as her body absorbed them.

Was that necessary Stormy? ISAAC asked. It's rather inefficient to use material for unnecessary body modification purposes.

Well, why not? Stormy replied in her mind. Talking to herself out loud to answer the computer in her body didn't seem proper right now, and would have just made her look crazy. A monster capable of immense feats of destruction, sure, but she didn't want Jack's gang to think she was totally insane. Just a devious, destructive creature from their darkest nightmares.

But as she was talking to the network of robots in her that formed a supercomputer, she murred out loud, stepping forward and kicking away the cover for several more bandits, before she positioned her ass over them and dropped down. They were instantly added to her rear, making her hips grow wider and her ass bigger, giving her curves that would make any man blush.

By utilizing them in height, strength and weapon subroutines you could increase destructive capabilities by 7.9% in total, ISAAC replied with cold, computer logic.

Just because I'm an unstoppable weapon of war doesn't mean I can't look good while doing it, Stormy thought back as she trapped a running male ram under her feet, a female kangaroo stopping to try to pull him out before they were both absorbed into her paws, making them larger and bulking up the unnecessary muscle definition of her body. She lifted an arm and flexed, making the scrawny arm turn into a bulging bicep to rival the strongest man in the gang. Plus, you made absorbing people fun and pleasurable.

It was not by random choice, but pragmatic design, ISAAC responded. Early tests with feral animal subjects determined that they would not accept the conversion unless the pleasure centers of the body were stimulated. It was assumed that this would be required for intelligent subjects. This observation is noted as being correct in the case of Stormy.

Stormy laughed out loud as she bent down, sounding rather evil and maniacal for the hapless mercs. She lifted her rear up, wagged her tail a couple of times, before unleashing herself like a coil, pouncing almost forty feet from where she stood, and pinned four people at the same time who were still taking potshots at here: one each under her hands, one in between her breasts, and another knocked over and pinned down where her vagina would have been.

Well, going to prove you really right now, ISAAC, Stormy thought to herself, as she began to absorb the three struggling raiders stuck under her front half. The unlucky sap caught in the darkness between her thighs though was in for a different fate. As he struggled and pushed up, trying in vain to push off the incredibly heavy weight above him, suddenly it split apart. The momentary relief that he may have found an escape route vanished just as quickly when the gap he pushed into refused to let his arm go, and instead metal walls began to pull him up. The trapped figure screamed in terror as Stormy's robotic pussy swallowed him up, two little feet still outside. But instead of dissolving him and using him for more material to fuel her growth and body enhancements, instead she let him wiggle and struggle, making her gasp and moan, he whole body shaking.

This is very unorthodox and inefficient, ISAAC commented. Using a subject to provide pleasure for Stormy is a waste of resources on the scale of 9.7% that could be better used elsewhere, such as maintenance of stimulated nervous system and psychological and mental capabilities.

Stormy finally managed to stand up. ISAAC, let me just say this once: I. DON'T. CARE.

Understood. Will no longer notify Stormy of such issues.

Even though her whole body was made of billions, of not now trillions of infinitely tiny robots coalescing into a single entity, the mortal, muscle and bone, non-robotic element of Stormy that she had lived with for her entire life before she stumbled on the military base still had a very deep ingrained status in her body. Just because she was now metal and capable of destroying armies didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy the more carnal pleasures.

In fact, being turned into a giant nanobot cyborg just made it all the better, able to embrace even the more risque and outlandish desires that had always crept into her thoughts.

The wolf finally managed to stand up, her height over 25 feet of robotic Amazonian body. She was panting now, the wriggling and struggling figure in her muff making the simulated nerves and pleasure receptors in her body fire and snap and rock her body all at once.

"Ho-ly fuuuuuck," Stormy exclaimed in a deep moaning voice, part feminine, part robotic, before the moan turned into a deep, rumbling laugh that turned into a full blown maniacal cackle as she looked at the fleeing mercenaries, crying whores and begging merchants who were cowering before her, fleeing the complex or seeking refuge in the great Palace that Jack built, and was quickly being eclipsed by the giant cyborg wolf.

"So, this is power, huh?" Stormy asked no one in particular as she looked to her feet, standing next to an outbuilding in the courtyard. She gave it a kick, the rusty tin siding and rotten wood that tumbled to the ground then being absorbed as she stepped on the ruins, fueling her growth even more, quickly eclipsing thirty feet. Each building she destroyed felt wonderful, making her body shake and tremble as she embraced the feeling of growth and power and lust. She proceeded to demolish shops and huts and barracks and warehouses, full of supplies and stores and those unlucky enough to escape in time, absorbing them all, making her body grow taller and taller: forty, fifty, sixty feet tall.

Each surge in height of her form, each expansion of her boobs, each building she caved in with her awesome power, gave another rush of pleasure that rocked through her whole body. But each new growth spurt had less omph than the one before it, wearing off quicker and quicker. By the time she got to 75 feet, it was little more than tickles instead of earth-shattering throes of pleasure. Even the little guy she had so lewdly pushed into her body to get her riled up was getting smaller - or, rather, staying the same size, but Stormy was outgrowing her toy - and was not capable providing the same satisfaction. She flexed her body, and her living dildo was turned in a moment into more fuel.

The high was wearing off, and she didn't like it. She needed that high, that lust of power and strength again. She needed to grow more.

She recognized one building at her feet, and with the need of a drug addict who was unable to score, grabbed the armory with both hands, and ripped it off the ground, it's floors having been made of steel to ensure no one could tunnel into the building. It was a moderately sized building, about 25 feet by 35, so only about a third Stormy's size. It was where all those cheap weapons and ammo had been made, and the older pre-End War guns were maintained. And stored. Lots of fuel. Lots of pleasure to come

She ripped the door off, and tossed it into her mouth, crunching the thick metal before swallowing it. Again, the teeth and chewing weren't necessary, but it felt right.

The giant wolfess looked inside, her sparking yellow electric eye filling the gap where the door once was, to see several weaponsmiths inside, trying to find balance as their building was rocked back and forth.

Stormy tilted her head back, lifted the building until it was positioned over her mouth, and started shaking. Guns and bullets and knives and handmade swords and machetes and a hundred different kinds of weapons all dumping into her mouth, instantly being dissolved and turned into more nanobots, which made Stormy begin to grow again. First one burly blacksmith lost his grip on whatever he could hold onto and fell as his place of work was emptied, followed soon by a second, then a third. Stormy began to swallow, absorbing all the steel and lead and bodies, mulching them up into more growth. She roared as she felt her body surging greater and stronger. But though it gave a blip of pleasure, it died very quickly.

She was starting to get angry. The lack of a rush, the slowing effects of her growth on her body was driving her crazy.

Stormy began to finger herself, exposing her robotic cunt again. Her fingers did give another spark, but it wasn't really enough. She scooped up some smoldering ruins that hadn't been swallowed or absorbed by her ravenous appetites, and used them as a poor substitute for the brilliant idea of a living dildo she had earlier. But now, over a hundred feet tall, even the tallest human would have been nothing but a speck to her.

The wolf growled in anger, before shoving the rest of the handful of junk up her's.

"Fuck!" she bellowed. What point was there to getting revenge if there was no pleasure in it?

She turned her head, panting heavily not from exertion from rage boiling inside.

There was one building left that wasn't a smoldering ruin... Jack's Palace.

Stormy easily towered over even the tallest point of the huge building standing up.. Stormy was going to make sure it wouldn't last.

She jumped at the building, making the pile of stones and bricks arranged into a monument to greed and violence rattle and rumble, caught in a non-natural earthquake.

"So Jack, like this now?" Stormy yelled, her anger at not being able to get off anymore like she was used too boiling down to an anger at Jack and his gang. She battered down the smaller apartments and offices around the outskirts, her claws of hand and paw carving huge sections out of the building. The nanobots in her hands worked extremely quickly, digesting stone and paper and metal and everything as she swept her hand through.

"How do you like to see your empire crumble around you, huh?" She screamed, the few glass windows that had survived until now shattering. A single portion of her body touching the palace was enough to start deconstructing it to fuel her growth. Hip bumps into the edifice, sitting and smothering wings with her ass, taking the entire service wing of the building between her thighs before compressing them and further fueling her growth only gave another short, weak throb of raunchiness through her body, but not enough to quell the itch that was burning in her.

"All you've achieved, years of murder and rape, all gone in an afternoon!" she bellowed. But no matter how much she yelled, showed off her power to the man that had made her life a hell, it didn't help her needs.

Stormy growled as she swiped her hand through a huge section of the building, exposing many interior rooms and screaming people. They were scooped up, one at a time, and dumped into her mouth, fueling her growth even more, but not her

"That little scavenger that you fucked over time and time again just to get a bit more out of her suffering?" Stormy was really angry now, and was now reaching for Jack's chambers, a sprawling maze of bedrooms for himself and his hookers. Stormy had vivid memories of the time she was ordered there to please Jack when a whore fell afoul Jack's temper and was thrown from the top of the building. It wasn't fun, that was sure, the fear of being killed for not giving a good enough blow job. She smashed the bed she was forced to service Jack on, just one of eight he had. The others were caught in her flurry of attacks, as well as entire wardrobes of fancy clothes, precious treasures, and a thousand other things.

Then in a final swoop, her claws stopped, right over top Jack.

The fox was cowering in a closet that had fallen apart around him. He was alone, his entire empire gone, ruins, dead. All the power and influence and strength he had was gone. Stormy had it, and much, much more.

"Hello Jack," Stormy said, her voice incredibly calm compared to the raging, unsatisfied beast from moments before. Her eyes had even returned to blue from the sparking yellow electric rage mode she had before.

"Stormy... I... uh...ah!" Jack choked as Stormy picked the six foot tall wolf in fingers that could easily have crushed him.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Stormy said, her voice barely quivering in rage: rage at all the abuse, all the scams, all the torture, all the pain, all the lack of results in her revenge.

"What... what happened to you?" Jack asked.

Stormy stared at him. "This was your doing. That debt you always kept growing on me, never letting me pay it off? It led me to this. So, I guess I have you to thank." Stormy wasn't sure if that should be a compliment or a sarcastic backhand.

"Stormy... I'll forgive the debt. I'll make you my second in command! I'll be your second! I'll give anything!" Jack pleaded, whimpering. "Just... please?"

Stormy looked at the little tiny fox. A brief moment of pity came up: he was so tiny, reduced to nothing. His life had come full circle, from terror and pain and loneliness to the pits of utter ruin. But it was quelled almost as quickly.

"And why should I? I have more power in these two fingers holding you now than you ever managed to get," Stormy said. She moved her fingers a tiny fraction, enough to make Jack suddenly be forced to bend over.

"Stormy! What will it take? What can I do?"

Stormy's eyes flickered to a yellow fury again. "You. Dead."

Her fingers closed.

There wasn't even a squish.

And that was it. It was over. Jack's empire of mercenaries and lies and brutality was over.

Stormy, topping out at a 150 feet of big chested, wide hipped, cyborg warrior, was victorious.

But Stormy... Stormy was not quelled.

"What happened?" Stormy asked out loud, positive no one was left alive to hear her talk about. "All that... power. All that pleasure. Finally getting even. But... it's just... not there. What's wrong?"

Running Diagnostics. ISAAC intoned. Scan complete. Stormy running at 100% capacity. No errors detected.

"No, you fucking computer," Stormy growled as she smashed the ruins of the palace, absorbing the stone and bricks. "I felt amazing. So wonderful when I started! But now... I feel nothing. Not even joy at killing that pig. What is wrong?"

There was a momentary silence. Running tests. Please stand by. ISAAC was silent as Stormy sat in the ruins of the base, waiting for her internal computer to determine what was wrong. The wind howled, a few fires smoldered here and there. It didn't really matter to Stormy, being a mechanical giant.

No mechanical or biological fault detected. ISAAC replied.

"You even said that you had to make people want to enjoy this to accept it!" Stormy bellowed. "So why doesn't that work now?"

Running tests. Please stand by.

"God, you are fucking useless," Stormy muttered.

Psychological tests run. ISAAC intoned. Based on default psychological profile of Stormy during original conversion, it's determined that rapid expansion of body in short order nullified many senses, feelings and behaviors, including but not limited to happiness, lust, and curiosity, and weakened some, including but not limited to personal attachment, morality and sadness. Only a few, including not limited to the feeling of anger and frustration can be easily roused, but even this ability has been compromised.

"So... by growing so big, so quickly, I'm throwing away my feelings? That seems stupid," Stormy said.

This has been noticed in original test subjects. The more the conversion is used, the more animal emotions were replaced with mechanical and robotic emotions, ISAAC stated. But Stormy exceeded previous tests, resulting in faster psychological degradation.

Stormy felt... off. It felt weird, but... okay? How could it be okay though? The thought of losing her humanity never once crossed her mind until now. It was one of those things that is just... there. Most likely had she kept her abilities on the downlow and used them sparingly, she would have never noticed it. But having used them all so quickly, so suddenly... she noticed it fairly quickly as those ties were severed.

"I... I..." Stormy said out loud... "Can we fix it?"

Calculating. ISAAC repeated several times. Preliminary results: possible, but difficult. Require computation periods.

"And how do I get that? More nanobots?" Stormy asked.

Time. Running many scenarios requires time.

"Okay," Stormy sighed, standing up. "Well, now that Jack is defeated, and no one will come looking for me, I can go back to-"

Incoming Transmission. ISAAC interrupted

"What?" Stormy asked.

Incoming Transmission. United States Armed Forces High Command, priority: Urgent. Stormy must accept message.

"But the United States is dead! How-"

Stormy must accept message.

"No! That's-"

Stormy WILL accept message.

Stormy suddenly jerked, her whole body stiffening up, just like that first time after she was turned into this cyborg and she started to panic. She couldn't move, she couldn't even think.

This message goes to all United States Armed Forces personnel and facilities that can receive this message. It wasn't in ISAAC's robotic voice, but a different male voice...

The United States is reborn today! All members of the Armed Forces that receive this message must report to the enclosed coordinates immediately.

God Bless America!