The Depraved Dykes of FIT - Book 06

Copyright 2015, 2021 Lisa Summers

All characters depicted in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Sometimes Evil doesn't get punished.

Sometimes Evil takes over the world.

And FIT is oh, so Good at being Evil!

Chapter 1

Samantha Crowder surreptitiously unlocked the entrance to the Beginnings Fertility Clinic, located at 8th Avenue in Park Slope, Brooklyn, and shut off the alarm. As the receptionist at the facility, she had access to all the security features. As a recent convert to the lesbian criminal conspiracy FIT, she took advantage of that fact. On a Sunday evening, the facility was closed, as per usual operating hours, and no one else would be present.

She felt a little guilty at first, considering that if the Clinic Director Alexandra Neuwes knew what she was up to, she'd have her arrested and most likely buried in the deepest cell in the most secure Super Max prison for women - if there even was such a thing. On further reflection though, Samantha giggled. There was nothing Samantha would love now more than to be surrounded by hundreds of sex hungry women, and would certainly look forward to pleasing every one of them, if it came to that. Although that would be loads of fun, she had a more important job to do, which in any case would lead to more sex hungry women who had views and interests like hers. So, it would be a win-win either way.

She was secure in the knowledge that her task was meant not to hurt her fellow workers, and the clients and families that they all served, but rather to make their lives a paradise on earth. A non-stop lesbian, girl on girl paradise. Well, the females would like it, anyway. There would be something less than paradise for the males.

She shrugged. The fates of men as a result of her actions were irrelevant to her at best, and terminal at worst. Besides, she had the backing and support of the most powerful but unknown criminal organization on earth. Family Interactions Therapists was the name they presented to the world, but their real name was Females Inherit Terra, and their goal was to convert every woman to lesbianism and eliminate every man. It had been that way for some twenty-five years, ever since a simple laboratory accident in an Australian pharmaceutical plant had unleashed a viral solution on an unsuspecting lab technician.

As she walked through the silent and dimmed interior of the Clinic, she ignored the offices, and headed over to the clinical labs. She was still quite sore from her experience at the FIT spa days before, but glowed with the thought of how much pleasure it had brought her.

Her task at Beginnings right then, though, was simple enough - to add a small vial of liquid that Erin Rider had given her to the glycerol used to preserve sperm from damage while it was frozen, awaiting its use to impregnate women anxious to bear a child. After completing that task, she moved on to complete her second task in the facility, while recalling her conversation with the beautiful Erin, chief FIT agent for the New York City area. It had been difficult to concentrate on her words after the two had just finished fucking for hours.

Chapter 2

"Yes, you could just add solution to whatever the female staff eat or drink, or spray it on them as I did with you," Erin had said days before. Samantha had giggled, remembering how cleverly Erin had used a body spray to infect her, and how much she loved Erin for doing it. Samantha couldn't take her eyes off the feminine FIT agent's long, brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, her body so fit and curved and luscious.

"However," Erin continued, "the solution most likely would kill any male who also consumed even a small amount of it."

"But don't we want men to die?" Samantha asked, frowning.

Erin sighed. "Yes, of course, but not in a way that could be traced back to you, and thus to FIT. One man dying of a heart attack is unfortunate, three or four all together dying of heart attacks is a crime - at least, that's how the authorities will view it. Be clever, be smart, until the patriarchy is dissolved."

"Yes ma'am," Samantha replied, chastened. She had a fleeting desire to be spanked by the cute young FIT agent for her error and shivered as an orgasm coursed through her simply from the thought of having a firm female hand applied hard to her sensitive and vulnerable bare bottom, as she lay bent over Erin's lap with her panties pulled down deliciously to mid-thigh.

Erin paused to let her convert enjoy her climax.

"That is why you're going to put the solution where I instructed, and only there. Understand? The virus has been adapted to survive under those conditions." She continued, "Similarly, the virus you'll be adding to the glycerol isn't affected by cold."

Samantha had discovered that there was nothing on this earth that she desired more than to be addressed firmly by another woman, and she hoped that it would be by this beautiful woman, soon. And if she couldn't have that...well, any woman who wanted to take from her and give her a wet, willing pussy in return would do.

"Okay, I've got it," Samantha replied, squirming in her seat. "Please, Erin, can we fuck again? I think I'm going to die if I don't lick your cunt."

Erin smiled. The enthusiasm of new converts to FIT always made her happy, and certain that FIT would be successful in taking over the world.

"Nonetheless, you need to be patient just a little longer. Tomorrow you'll be going to the Annex, a little 'spa' we have here in Brooklyn for special talents like you." Samantha preened.

"Just remember, Samantha, what you're doing here is critical to our success. The children who are produced as a result of impregnation by these infected sperm will more likely be female, at a rate of about 86%, as opposed to the previous 53% of the uninfected. In addition, those female children will be infected themselves by the virus, which will remain dormant until later in life, and become active after puberty."

"Turning them into lesbians, like us!" Samantha said excitedly.

"Yes," affirmed Erin, with a smile.

"Finally, the mothers will also be infected by the virus sometime after they undergo intrauterine insemination, and will work to further our ends."

"What about the few boys that are born, in spite of the virus?" Samantha asked.

"That's a good question," Erin replied, and Samantha glowed with pride, as well as a minor orgasm.

"The boys will survive, but tend not to be overly intelligent and not particularly hardy. From the statistics that we have so far, they tend to die by age 30 and are not very successful in their lives. Importantly, they don't get very far with women. Where do you think the current crop of computer gamers and nerds came from?"

Samantha laughed, and clapped her hands. "Really?" she said. "That's great!"

"So...any questions? Erin asked.

"No, I understand completely," Samantha replied. "But I'd remember better if I could couple your instructions with something memorable." She affected a sly look.

"What did you have in mind?" Erin asked, intrigued.

"I'm aching to be taught a lesson...a really hard lesson," Samantha whispered.

"You stupid cunt," Erin said, her look suddenly stormy. "This is important, and you want to talk about sex?" Samantha became frightened at Erin's sudden change in demeanor.

"I...I didn't-" she stuttered.

"Shut up, you fucking slut!" Erin roared, grabbing the blonde by her long, straight hair and pulling her towards her. Swiftly, the receptionist had found herself pulled over the FIT agent's skirt-clad thighs, her own skirt pulled up and her panties pulled down, exposing her sweetly rounded buttocks and pussy.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Three fiercely hard and painful swats on Samantha's bottom sent fierce jolts of agony from her ass to her clitoris, where they swiftly converted to waves of pleasure, her body undulating on Erin's lap as she shuddered in ecstasy.

"Oh my god...fuck!" Samantha gasped, barely able to catch her breath between the intense, sharp pain followed by the even more intense pleasure. Her hips squirmed on Erin's lap as her body tried to assimilate the different sensations.

"Fucking cunt, you're wrinkling my skirt," Erin growled. "Here's a lesson for you," she said, as she corkscrewed three fingers together and thrust them into Samantha's cunt, wet and hot with her excitement. Erin's fisting did little to lessen her excitement - quite the opposite - with the young blonde squirming happily on Erin's lap as orgasm after orgasm filled her with delight.

"Oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgod," Samantha virtually yodeled, her mind floating into an all-girl dream of unending pleasure, her love for Erin and every other woman an immense garden of delight and joy that she couldn't wait to help create, with a vague, dark image of men somehow as both the wolves waiting outside to destroy that paradise and also as baa-ing sheep awaiting their destruction.

When Samantha recovered herself, she found Erin licking her feminine cream-covered fingers, and gazing at Samantha fondly.

"Remember, before you carry out the assignment, you're to go to a site we have a few blocks from your office, called the Annex. There, we'll make sure that you're ready to go and then you can carry out your assignment - okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," sighed Samantha, so in love with her new mistress. She would do anything for Erin now.

Chapter 3

Three weeks after Samantha's trip to the Annex, and her subsequent sabotage at Beginnings, two women met in the Accounting Manager's office at the Beginnings Fertility Clinic.

Thérèse Anderson sighed. "It's been a week since Lihua disappeared, do the police know anything?" She scratched her ear absent-mindedly, her medium length, wavy black hair brushed aside as she did.

Capri Cavallero answered in a thick Brooklyn accent. "Nah, nothin'. If they do, they're not telling us, and I'm pretty sure they didn't tell her mother anything. All I could find out is that she and her roommate left in some kind of hurry. The roommate had a boyfriend..."

"Do you think he might know something?" the thirty-two year old accounting department manager at Beginnings Fertility Clinic asked the accounting clerk. "You were her best friend, think." Capri stared at her boss.

"Why don't you just leave it to the cops to solve it...if there is anything to solve," Capri answered, perplexed at her supervisor's interest.

"She's awfully cute for being a boss," Capri thought. "If I weren't going steady with Jimmy D'Alessandro I might be tempted to go lesbo with her...maybe I could anyway," and then laughed to herself at being so silly - she was a good Catholic girl and never would have sex with another girl. Still, she wondered where on earth that thought had come from...

"Capri, I feel a responsibility to all the girls here. If you suddenly disappeared, I'd do the same thing." She looked at the black-haired girl, her hair short in a cute pixie cut and barely out of high school. "I know you all think I'm a mother hen, and barely know you, but I promised Alexandra when I accepted this job that I'd treat you all like family - that's what she wants for everyone here. Now, you said there was a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, his name was - is - Brian. Brian Donnelly, I think he lives in Canarsie, on East 93rd Street. I've got the address somewhere, Lihua was going to a party there once and I took the message." She rooted around her desk. "Here it is, at the corner of 93rd Street and Avenue L."

Thérèse said a quick prayer for Capri's packrat tendencies. She was sloppy with some things - most things - but she never misplaced a receipt.

"Thanks, Capri," Thérèse said. "I'm going to take the rest of the afternoon, I've got a sick aunt to look after, and I'll be in tomorrow."

"Okay, Thérèse , see ya tomorrow. My best to your little baby girl and hubby."

"Uh, thanks," Thérèse replied. "My husband Andy and baby Oscar," she said. It always sounded strange to hear coworkers mentioning her family when they hadn't met them yet. "I guess if you have enough pictures of family on your desk, people feel like they know them," she thought to herself, as she glanced at the framed photos of models on her desk. She had only been at Beginnings for two weeks, and didn't expect to be there in another month's time. "Such is the life of a 'fixer,'" she thought. "Fix a problem and move on."

All the girls in the Accounting Department thought that they knew why Thérèse was there - to straighten up the accounts. And while they all liked her, they figured there weren't going to be any whips cracked, that kind of thing was for long term bosses. Short term bosses tend to use carrots and honey.

She made her way to the Nassau Street Express, and then transferred to the Canarsie Local at the Broadway Junction station. Then it was just a short cab ride from her stop at Rockaway Parkway. She walked by Gorman's Deli on the way to the gray-sided three story house, enjoying the typical fragrance wafting from the open door of the Deli. "We don't get that kind of thing much in Billings," she thought, a little wistful for her home and family in Montana.

She knocked on the door of what looked to be Brian's house, a gray asbestos-shingled three story corner house, which was answered by a pleasant-looking matronly woman.

"Yes?" she said.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for a man named Brian, Brian Donnelly. Do I have the right house?"

The woman's expression changed like a storm crashing on the Maine seashore.

"Do you know where our Brian is?" she said, looking hopeful and sad, both.

"No, I'm sorry," Thérèse said apologetically. "I'm actually trying to find a girl he knew, Lihua Chen...you wouldn't happen to know anything about her whereabouts, would you?"

"I don't know that name," the woman said. "She wasn't a girlfriend...his girlfriend was Leslie Banner..."

"Yes, Lihua was her roommate and both girls are missing. So, Brian's missing too?"

"Yes," the woman replied.

"It's puzzling," Thérèse replied. She explained that she was Lihua's supervisor, and asked the woman a few more questions, and then conceded that going to the police to file a missing person might be her only recourse. She left her card, and then began walking to the corner to hail a cab when she heard a boy calling her from the stoop of the house.

"Hey, hey lady!" She turned to see a boy of about fourteen walking down from the porch. "I talked to Brian," he said, his voice subdued. Then he said, "I'll walk with you to the deli."

Surprised, Thérèse said, "Okay."

"Buy me an egg cream?" the boy asked.

"Yeah, sure," she replied. "Have you got some information for me?"

"I said I talked to Brian, didn't I?" he replied a little truculently. "I'm his brother Philly."

They took a seat at a small formica table inside Gorman's Deli, and Thérèse ordered them two egg creams. "I've never had one of these," she confessed.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"Billings, Montana," she replied.

"Oh...the sticks," he commented.

"You had information?" she prompted him.

"Brian found his girlfriend, Leslie," he said, and shuddered. "I mean, before anyone knew she was missing. He went to her apartment and found her with the other one..."

"Lihua?" Thérèse asked.

"I guess," the boy replied. "She was a Jap or a Chink or sump'n."

Not that it was necessary to clarify her understanding, but just to smack the little lout verbally, Thérèse said, "You mean, she was Asian?"

"Yeah, that's what I said." Thérèse could foresee a bright future for this one.

"And..." Thérèse said.

"He said it was creepy as shit. The two of them were naked and in bed" - here he paused to see how Thérèse was taking it in, and misunderstood her look of disgust - "and had poop and piss all over themselves and the bed. But that wasn't the worst thing." He paused again for dramatic effect.

"Just tell your story, okay?" Thérèse said, losing patience.

"Yeah, okay. Brian said that he tried to separate them and they began crying and making noises, weird noises. But what was the creepiest part was, they made the exact same noises at exactly the same times, like in stereo, you know?" He sat back.

"You mean, like one person was talking - or making noise - for both of them?" Thérèse asked.

"Yeah, that's it!" the boy agreed. "Like they knew what sounds the other was going to be making and did it at the same time."

"And what else did Brian say?" Thérèse asked.

"This is even weirder. He said he got mad at Leslie when they didn't look like they wanted to be separated and were ignoring him, so he slapped her, hard - just once, he said."'

"And?" Thérèse said.

"And her cheek turned white, then all red where he hit her, you know, like they do. But then, the other girl's cheek - this Looheeha-"

"Lihua," Thérèse corrected him.

"Yeah...her cheek turned the exact same colors, and in the shape of his hand, just like on Leslie's face! He said he was gonna call the cops and EMS to come get 'em and see what was wrong...and then he hung up." the boy looked at Thérèse and sipped his egg cream.

"Why didn't you tell your mother?" Thérèse asked.

"How do you know I didn't?" Philly said.

Thérèse just stared at him. "Because we're sitting in a deli and you're telling me the story here instead of in front of your mother."

"Oh, right," the boy said, shrugging. "I didn't hear anything from him after that."

"Is that it?" Thérèse asked. The boy nodded.

Thérèse said, "Did you tell the police?"

"They didn't ask. And, I'm not sure I'd tell them."

"Why not?" asked Thérèse .

"I don't get along too well with cops."

"You're kind of young to be a desperado," Thérèse smiled.

"Yeah, well whatever," he said.

"Look, here's my number," Thérèse said. "If you hear anything, let me know, okay. If it's any good there'll be more than just an egg cream in it, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, brightening.

Thérèse returned to the office to pick up her car, as it was past quitting time.

"I would so much rather be home with Andy right now," she thought wryly.

Chapter 4

Ann Borgrum woke up at 3 AM in a cold sweat, her bed sheets wrapped around her plump body like a mummy's wrapping. Her dirty blonde hair was damp and in ringlets, stuck to her forehead. "Goodness," the thirty-three year old lab technician at Beginnings said. "If it's the flu, it's here a little early this year." She lay quietly in the bed, the sheet thrown off, the sweat covering her body slowly evaporating, cooling her off but doing nothing to help her back to sleep.

"Darn it," she said to herself and got out of bed, padding over to her comfortable chair in front of her desktop computer. "I wonder if anyone's on the Bridgetalk.com message boards," she thought, opening up her favorite website, and one at which she had come to make so many friends. Perhaps she never had met any of them in real life, but she felt closer to her bridge playing internet family than she did to her own flesh and blood family. Signing in under her screen name "Sobel," the middle name of the famous bridge player Helen Smith, she saw a few threads responded to since she'd signed off hours before.

She smiled when she saw that Geoffrey from England had just posted a poll asking what his partner might have been thinking in playing a bridge hand, and responded. The two exchanged a few possibilities, but for some reason Ann couldn't generate the kind of interest she usually would when the brilliant - and no doubt handsome - Englishman communicated with her.

She begged off from further response with a "Couldn't sleep, now I'm done!" as he wished her a good night's sleep. "What a gentleman," she thought, and closed the site. She had had daydreams about meeting him, and they were always a pleasant part of her day.