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Steele Yourself

“Alright, guys, it's time for some real training! Last mission was a disaster, and I'm not gonna let that happen again on my watch!”

“Um, what's with the drill instructor routine? You know you're not actually our boss, right?”

“You may not have an official rank in my organization, but if you're thinking of going over my head on this one, then you're going to have to take it up with God.”

“Sheesh, chill out Nicole! No way I'm gonna miss your special super hero training! I'm just sayin',”

“You better be just saying 'yes, Director Steele' if you want to come out of this alive!”

“Oh! Yes, Director Steele, Sir!”

“Now pair up! Milo and Mizuho, Nizhoni and Sindy!”

Milo nervously approached Mizuho on the mat. The last time the two had been in this room didn't go so well for him, but he didn't want to make Director Steele angry at him. Meanwhile, Nizhoni had already split up into several clones of herself, all of whom were pointing and laughing at Sindy as she tried to wrangle the whole group of dupes. Sindy flew down at the nearest one feet-first, squashing the faux-girl into a coin-shape beneath her heroic boots. The others lost their humor as their fellow disappeared in a puff of smoke, and they began scrambling all over the place.

Mizuho was similarly much stronger than her opponent, but had problems of her own. Milo wasn't well-trained like the rest of them, but his odd physiology made sparring difficult. Her blows tended to just get her hands and feet stuck deep in his malleable body. It didn't look comfortable for him, but it wouldn't take him down either. So. She decided to change her style up. After all, The Martial Mistress is mistress of all forms of combat!

So while Sindy was playing Whack-A-Mole, using one of the many Nizhonis as a mallet to smash the others with, Mizuho started using holds on Milo. The first attempt didn't quite go as she planned; while she pinned his arm behind his back quite easily, he simply twisted himself around to face her again, despite his arm being pointed in the opposite direction it normally was. But that wasn't the most tactical reaction, since now he had an arm bent the wrong way, wrapped around his back and hanging uselessly behind him.

“eheh... um, time out...?” He asked timidly, not really expecting any quarter from his austere opponent.

Instead of giving him time to recover, Mizuho grabbed him again, this time intentionally twisting his arm even further, until it was curled around him like a shawl, and then she got to work on his other arm, bending it and spinning him, so that he looked like he was wearing the tightest straight-jacket in the world. And without his arms to balance him, it was a trivial task to knock him down on the mat and slide her powerful legs around his exposed neck.

“GLLKK!” He sputtered, unable to breathe while those thighs tightened around his throat.

While incapacitating him with her mighty thighs, Mizuho flipped Milo over on the mat and folded him in half like a piece of paper, causing a crackling sound in his contorted spine. The motion ended with her sat triumphantly on top of a jumbled pile of Milo's limbs. As her toned ass rested on his beaten body, Mizuho twisted and compressed him like a ball of twine. She then bounced her butt down on him a bit to keep him compact, and all he could do was stare up helplessly from between her strong, shapely legs. The director seemed not to notice Milo's plight as Mizuho rolled him around under her butt like a big rubber ball. He was utterly helpless beneath her overbearing booty. And this was only his first opponent.

“Alright Raquel, you're in! Line up with Sindy!” Director Steele shouted, gearing up the next round, “Nizhoni, you and Milo! Mizuho, hit the bench for now!”

Milo was relieved that there wasn't anyone sitting on his face anymore, but it seemed he wouldn't be getting much of a break as Nizhoni, his new opponent, smirked down at him mischievously. He looked up at her from his rounded form with a fearful expression while she began creating body doubles to outnumber the helpless ball boy.

The duplicates formed up around him with eleven of them on either side of him.

“Looks like Mizuho left us something to play with,” one of them said, eliciting a giggle from the identical crowd.

The match was on, and while there could be no contest between Milo and the 22 versions of Nizhoni, there was a bit of competition going on between the two teams formed by the super girl's duplication power. They broke off to get into position, with Milo smack dab in the center of them all.

Two Nizhonis stared each other square in the eyes, looking for signs of weakness, while their team-mates tested the positions of their opposing team. The whole lot of them were dead-set on exploiting any advantage they might scrape out over the other completely identical women on the field. It was all fairly pointless, considering they already knew each other about as well as you could know a person, seeing as they were basically all the same person. This fact was either lost on them, or they didn't care – it was just a game!

They finally went for the kick-off, and Milo felt the hard leather tips of boots thudding into him from either side – a blow that left him spinning and shooting up through the air. As he descended into the crowd of identical women, they all clamored to get a piece of him and he closed his eyes in anticipation just as one of them jumped up above the crowd to headbutt the falling bundle of boy out to a teammate. The pass was intercepted and Milo slammed face-first into a pair of spandex-clad breasts before bouncing once on the floor and being kicked harshly toward one of the imaginary goals of this very one-sided game.

After being kicked, bounced, stomped, fumbled and otherwise beaten senseless by the teams of duplicates, Milo rolled to a stop right in front of a panting Nizhoni, who held up the sign for a time-out. It seemed that she had tuckered herself out, and Milo was glad for the reprieve... unfortunately, while she would be resting, that didn't mean she was giving him a break. Whether it was knowing or not, the pressure was back on as she turned around, her shapely rear hovering above the conveniently placed ball of a training partner. Milo pleaded silently for her to sit on the mat or the bench or anywhere besides his tender exposed face, but he would see no mercy from Nizhoni's bulbous backside.

She plopped herself down on top of him with no care or gentleness, and her ass impacted him with the force of a falling meteor, with no signs of letting up. In fact, Milo's squishy body was about to be subjected to yet more force in mere moments. Nizhoni motioned toward her body-copies, and they all lined up in an orderly fashion to rejoin into a single form.

As each dupe came up to the resting Nizhoni, Milo felt an explosion of weight on top of his already bulging body. They were sitting on Nizhoni's lap for only the briefest of moments before merging, but that brief moment was like being stomped by a giant monster each time it happened, mashing him even further. Eventually, she had fully absorbed herself back into one being, and she stood up from her battered seat.

What she left behind as the team got ready to switch sparring partners wasn't pretty. Milo at this point had gone from a squishy ball to a malformed smear in the shape of his team-mates' butt. He softly gurgled in a half passed-out state of mind and Nizhoni cringed at the pathetic state she had left the malleable boy in. She reached down gingerly and peeled him off the floor before flicking her wrists to restore some of his previous shape. What she held in her hands was a little bit closer to how he had been before this training from hell, but definitely not a full three-dimensional human. Not wanting to draw any attention for smearing the new guy across the floor, she quietly deposited him on the training mat and backed away slowly.

Meanwhile, the others were all getting pretty tired out, and Director Steele called for a break, giving everyone five minutes. This gave them all a chance to use the toilet and get hydrated. Except for Milo. It gave Milo a chance to get himself trampled by his inattentive team-mates. His ability to recover from injury was overclocked, and by the time the short break had concluded he was just barely sitting up in time to see Raquel timidly stand in the opposite corner of his section of training mat.

“Um, I'm just... I wanted to say...” she said, looking down at her bare feet.

“R-Raquel, right...?” He stuttered, half from his shaky constitution and half from fear of her powerhouse transformation

“That's.... yes,” she replied.

There was a brief pause, and just as she was about to say something, Milo interrupted with “Sorry we didn't really meet under the best of circumstances”

“No, it's, uh...”

“I just have so much respect for all of you, I would hate to think I gave you the wrong idea bout me”

“Um, I don't really...”

“I hope I can make a valuable addition to the team!”

“I'm sure you will, but I-”

“I know I have a lot to learn, but I couldn't ask for better teachers!”

“Listen, I'm trying to-”

“I'm sure one day we'll look back at that first day and laugh about it,”

Her posture immediately changed as she whipped her hand out to grab Milo by the neck.

“Will... you... just... SHUT... UP!” she said, her anger rising until her transformation began, causing her to begin gaining inches of height every second.

“CANT YOU SEE IM TRYING TO APOLOGIZE YOU STUPID LITTLE MAN!”

She kept her grip on Milo firmly as she grew, her hand crushing him more and more as it grew with her. When she was tall enough to touch the ceiling Milo had completely disappeared in her clenched fist. She opened her hand to reveal a crumpled mess with a face on it in a dizzy, dazed expression, and she dropped him to the ground, making a limp squelching sound.

Milo made an attempt at speech that simply came out as a weak whimper. Raquel was incensed, and it was, after all, the middle of a round of training, and so not one thought of mercy even crossed her mind. Milo could see it in her eyes as she glared down on his mashed up body, already so badly mangled that he couldn't even attempt to defend himself or escape. He couldn't even surrender or beg. All he could do was take whatever punishment she felt like subjecting him to, and in her rage-induced transformation she was ready to dish out the pain.

Milo's pitiful face looked up at the mighty giantess towering over him as she raised her leg high above him. A single tear escaped his eye as her sole came rushing down to crush him. There was a deafening thud and a sickening squish as Raquel stomped the living daylights out of Milo beneath her massive foot. She raised her leg again to witness the damage he had taken, but saw nothing. A curious look crossed her face, and stood for a moment, looking all over the training room where the others were fighting in far less uneven matches.

She soon felt Milo twitching beneath her crushing sole and realized he was smeared across the bottom of her foot. She lifted her leg back behind her and turned her head to look down at her foot, seeing Milo's face squished and stupid staring up at the ceiling. She blinked and shook her leg about wildly, but all this did was make Milo even dizzier. She kicked out, trying to shake him loose, but it wasn't working, so she started grinding her foot into the mat beneath her.

Raquel's weight was such that the training mat didn't really soften the pressure Milo felt, but eventually her grinding motions started to peel him off, leaving behind a twisted and twitching body. But she wasn't done with him. Taking him in both her hands, she stretched the unfortunate boy over her chest and let go with one hand, launching him like a rubber band at the far wall. She followed this up with a swing of her muscular arm and punched him into a fist-shaped crater in the wall

As he fluttered down to the floor, she considered the match over and was ready to start cooling off. The rest of the team was still sparring, and Milo wasn't going anywhere, so, in either apathy or spite, Raquel took a seat down on the mat right where he had fallen. She felt his putty-like body squish down beneath her tremendous butt, and heard a desperate whining sound muffled by the giant butt he was buried under.

Eventually, she had reverted to her normal size, laying down and napping on top of the spread out and smushed Milo, who would have felt relieved at her reduced weight if he weren't completely out of it, his glazed eyes rolling about rhythmically on a stupefied face.

Around the time Milo had recovered enough to have coherent thoughts, but not enough to resist when Raquel rolled him over her sleeping body like a blanket, the others has settled their respective matches.

“That's it, guys! Hit the showers and get ready for patrol in an hour!” Director Steele shouted, cutting the loose atmosphere like a red-hot knife through an ice cube.

Milo was so relieved by the prospect of his torture training being over that he hardly heard what the good director has said, nor had he noticed as Sindy hovered by to lead Raquel out of the training room in a sleepy state.

Milo awoke the next day feeling amazingly refreshed considering how he had been treated the day before. He stretched and stood up, thankful that even if his powers weren't exactly top-shelf, they at least worked very well at what they did. He just wished it weren't such a double-edged sword. But that's what training is for, isn't it?

“Milo! You're a damn sight more eager than the rest of these goldbrickers!” Director Steele said with a wry grin.

“Huh...?” Milo said in confusion.

“You're early for morning training!” she said to the beleaguered boy.

Milo looked around at the girls all giving him eager looks and his lip began to quiver in terror as they split up to begin another round of training. Milo backed away in fear as Sindy cracked her knuckles, flying toward him.

“My turn,” she said, licking her lips as she pulled her arm back in preparation for a super-strength punch straight in Milo's pouting face.

“Mommy...” he whined just as her blue-gloved fist slammed into his squishy face and sent him flying across the room and landing in a heap with a fist-shaped indentation in his face.

“It's a little early for pet names, don'tcha think, Milo?” she asked bashfully.

Milo simply rested his concave head on his hand and said “Should have listened to my dad and become a masseur,”

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body div#devskin0 hr { }

Steele Yourself

“Alright, guys, it's time for some real training! Last mission was a disaster, and I'm not gonna let that happen again on my watch!”

“Um, what's with the drill instructor routine? You know you're not actually our boss, right?”

“You may not have an official rank in my organization, but if you're thinking of going over my head on this one, then you're going to have to take it up with God.”

“Sheesh, chill out Nicole! No way I'm gonna miss your special super hero training! I'm just sayin',”

“You better be just saying 'yes, Director Steele' if you want to come out of this alive!”

“Oh! Yes, Director Steele, Sir!”

“Now pair up! Milo and Mizuho, Nizhoni and Sindy!”

Milo nervously approached Mizuho on the mat. The last time the two had been in this room didn't go so well for him, but he didn't want to make Director Steele angry at him. Meanwhile, Nizhoni had already split up into several clones of herself, all of whom were pointing and laughing at Sindy as she tried to wrangle the whole group of dupes. Sindy flew down at the nearest one feet-first, squashing the faux-girl into a coin-shape beneath her heroic boots. The others lost their humor as their fellow disappeared in a puff of smoke, and they began scrambling all over the place.

Mizuho was similarly much stronger than her opponent, but had problems of her own. Milo wasn't well-trained like the rest of them, but his odd physiology made sparring difficult. Her blows tended to just get her hands and feet stuck deep in his malleable body. It didn't look comfortable for him, but it wouldn't take him down either. So. She decided to change her style up. After all, The Martial Mistress is mistress of all forms of combat!

So while Sindy was playing Whack-A-Mole, using one of the many Nizhonis as a mallet to smash the others with, Mizuho started using holds on Milo. The first attempt didn't quite go as she planned; while she pinned his arm behind his back quite easily, he simply twisted himself around to face her again, despite his arm being pointed in the opposite direction it normally was. But that wasn't the most tactical reaction, since now he had an arm bent the wrong way, wrapped around his back and hanging uselessly behind him.

“eheh... um, time out...?” He asked timidly, not really expecting any quarter from his austere opponent.

Instead of giving him time to recover, Mizuho grabbed him again, this time intentionally twisting his arm even further, until it was curled around him like a shawl, and then she got to work on his other arm, bending it and spinning him, so that he looked like he was wearing the tightest straight-jacket in the world. And without his arms to balance him, it was a trivial task to knock him down on the mat and slide her powerful legs around his exposed neck.

“GLLKK!” He sputtered, unable to breathe while those thighs tightened around his throat.

While incapacitating him with her mighty thighs, Mizuho flipped Milo over on the mat and folded him in half like a piece of paper, causing a crackling sound in his contorted spine. The motion ended with her sat triumphantly on top of a jumbled pile of Milo's limbs. As her toned ass rested on his beaten body, Mizuho twisted and compressed him like a ball of twine. She then bounced her butt down on him a bit to keep him compact, and all he could do was stare up helplessly from between her strong, shapely legs. The director seemed not to notice Milo's plight as Mizuho rolled him around under her butt like a big rubber ball. He was utterly helpless beneath her overbearing booty. And this was only his first opponent.

“Alright Raquel, you're in! Line up with Sindy!” Director Steele shouted, gearing up the next round, “Nizhoni, you and Milo! Mizuho, hit the bench for now!”

Milo was relieved that there wasn't anyone sitting on his face anymore, but it seemed he wouldn't be getting much of a break as Nizhoni, his new opponent, smirked down at him mischievously. He looked up at her from his rounded form with a fearful expression while she began creating body doubles to outnumber the helpless ball boy.

The duplicates formed up around him with eleven of them on either side of him.

“Looks like Mizuho left us something to play with,” one of them said, eliciting a giggle from the identical crowd.

The match was on, and while there could be no contest between Milo and the 22 versions of Nizhoni, there was a bit of competition going on between the two teams formed by the super girl's duplication power. They broke off to get into position, with Milo smack dab in the center of them all.

Two Nizhonis stared each other square in the eyes, looking for signs of weakness, while their team-mates tested the positions of their opposing team. The whole lot of them were dead-set on exploiting any advantage they might scrape out over the other completely identical women on the field. It was all fairly pointless, considering they already knew each other about as well as you could know a person, seeing as they were basically all the same person. This fact was either lost on them, or they didn't care – it was just a game!

They finally went for the kick-off, and Milo felt the hard leather tips of boots thudding into him from either side – a blow that left him spinning and shooting up through the air. As he descended into the crowd of identical women, they all clamored to get a piece of him and he closed his eyes in anticipation just as one of them jumped up above the crowd to headbutt the falling bundle of boy out to a teammate. The pass was intercepted and Milo slammed face-first into a pair of spandex-clad breasts before bouncing once on the floor and being kicked harshly toward one of the imaginary goals of this very one-sided game.

After being kicked, bounced, stomped, fumbled and otherwise beaten senseless by the teams of duplicates, Milo rolled to a stop right in front of a panting Nizhoni, who held up the sign for a time-out. It seemed that she had tuckered herself out, and Milo was glad for the reprieve... unfortunately, while she would be resting, that didn't mean she was giving him a break. Whether it was knowing or not, the pressure was back on as she turned around, her shapely rear hovering above the conveniently placed ball of a training partner. Milo pleaded silently for her to sit on the mat or the bench or anywhere besides his tender exposed face, but he would see no mercy from Nizhoni's bulbous backside.

She plopped herself down on top of him with no care or gentleness, and her ass impacted him with the force of a falling meteor, with no signs of letting up. In fact, Milo's squishy body was about to be subjected to yet more force in mere moments. Nizhoni motioned toward her body-copies, and they all lined up in an orderly fashion to rejoin into a single form.

As each dupe came up to the resting Nizhoni, Milo felt an explosion of weight on top of his already bulging body. They were sitting on Nizhoni's lap for only the briefest of moments before merging, but that brief moment was like being stomped by a giant monster each time it happened, mashing him even further. Eventually, she had fully absorbed herself back into one being, and she stood up from her battered seat.

What she left behind as the team got ready to switch sparring partners wasn't pretty. Milo at this point had gone from a squishy ball to a malformed smear in the shape of his team-mates' butt. He softly gurgled in a half passed-out state of mind and Nizhoni cringed at the pathetic state she had left the malleable boy in. She reached down gingerly and peeled him off the floor before flicking her wrists to restore some of his previous shape. What she held in her hands was a little bit closer to how he had been before this training from hell, but definitely not a full three-dimensional human. Not wanting to draw any attention for smearing the new guy across the floor, she quietly deposited him on the training mat and backed away slowly.

Meanwhile, the others were all getting pretty tired out, and Director Steele called for a break, giving everyone five minutes. This gave them all a chance to use the toilet and get hydrated. Except for Milo. It gave Milo a chance to get himself trampled by his inattentive team-mates. His ability to recover from injury was overclocked, and by the time the short break had concluded he was just barely sitting up in time to see Raquel timidly stand in the opposite corner of his section of training mat.

“Um, I'm just... I wanted to say...” she said, looking down at her bare feet.

“R-Raquel, right...?” He stuttered, half from his shaky constitution and half from fear of her powerhouse transformation

“That's.... yes,” she replied.

There was a brief pause, and just as she was about to say something, Milo interrupted with “Sorry we didn't really meet under the best of circumstances”

“No, it's, uh...”

“I just have so much respect for all of you, I would hate to think I gave you the wrong idea bout me”

“Um, I don't really...”

“I hope I can make a valuable addition to the team!”

“I'm sure you will, but I-”

“I know I have a lot to learn, but I couldn't ask for better teachers!”

“Listen, I'm trying to-”

“I'm sure one day we'll look back at that first day and laugh about it,”

Her posture immediately changed as she whipped her hand out to grab Milo by the neck.

“Will... you... just... SHUT... UP!” she said, her anger rising until her transformation began, causing her to begin gaining inches of height every second.

“CANT YOU SEE IM TRYING TO APOLOGIZE YOU STUPID LITTLE MAN!”

She kept her grip on Milo firmly as she grew, her hand crushing him more and more as it grew with her. When she was tall enough to touch the ceiling Milo had completely disappeared in her clenched fist. She opened her hand to reveal a crumpled mess with a face on it in a dizzy, dazed expression, and she dropped him to the ground, making a limp squelching sound.

Milo made an attempt at speech that simply came out as a weak whimper. Raquel was incensed, and it was, after all, the middle of a round of training, and so not one thought of mercy even crossed her mind. Milo could see it in her eyes as she glared down on his mashed up body, already so badly mangled that he couldn't even attempt to defend himself or escape. He couldn't even surrender or beg. All he could do was take whatever punishment she felt like subjecting him to, and in her rage-induced transformation she was ready to dish out the pain.

Milo's pitiful face looked up at the mighty giantess towering over him as she raised her leg high above him. A single tear escaped his eye as her sole came rushing down to crush him. There was a deafening thud and a sickening squish as Raquel stomped the living daylights out of Milo beneath her massive foot. She raised her leg again to witness the damage he had taken, but saw nothing. A curious look crossed her face, and stood for a moment, looking all over the training room where the others were fighting in far less uneven matches.

She soon felt Milo twitching beneath her crushing sole and realized he was smeared across the bottom of her foot. She lifted her leg back behind her and turned her head to look down at her foot, seeing Milo's face squished and stupid staring up at the ceiling. She blinked and shook her leg about wildly, but all this did was make Milo even dizzier. She kicked out, trying to shake him loose, but it wasn't working, so she started grinding her foot into the mat beneath her.

Raquel's weight was such that the training mat didn't really soften the pressure Milo felt, but eventually her grinding motions started to peel him off, leaving behind a twisted and twitching body. But she wasn't done with him. Taking him in both her hands, she stretched the unfortunate boy over her chest and let go with one hand, launching him like a rubber band at the far wall. She followed this up with a swing of her muscular arm and punched him into a fist-shaped crater in the wall

As he fluttered down to the floor, she considered the match over and was ready to start cooling off. The rest of the team was still sparring, and Milo wasn't going anywhere, so, in either apathy or spite, Raquel took a seat down on the mat right where he had fallen. She felt his putty-like body squish down beneath her tremendous butt, and heard a desperate whining sound muffled by the giant butt he was buried under.

Eventually, she had reverted to her normal size, laying down and napping on top of the spread out and smushed Milo, who would have felt relieved at her reduced weight if he weren't completely out of it, his glazed eyes rolling about rhythmically on a stupefied face.

Around the time Milo had recovered enough to have coherent thoughts, but not enough to resist when Raquel rolled him over her sleeping body like a blanket, the others has settled their respective matches.

“That's it, guys! Hit the showers and get ready for patrol in an hour!” Director Steele shouted, cutting the loose atmosphere like a red-hot knife through an ice cube.

Milo was so relieved by the prospect of his torture training being over that he hardly heard what the good director has said, nor had he noticed as Sindy hovered by to lead Raquel out of the training room in a sleepy state.

Milo awoke the next day feeling amazingly refreshed considering how he had been treated the day before. He stretched and stood up, thankful that even if his powers weren't exactly top-shelf, they at least worked very well at what they did. He just wished it weren't such a double-edged sword. But that's what training is for, isn't it?

“Milo! You're a damn sight more eager than the rest of these goldbrickers!” Director Steele said with a wry grin.

“Huh...?” Milo said in confusion.

“You're early for morning training!” she said to the beleaguered boy.

Milo looked around at the girls all giving him eager looks and his lip began to quiver in terror as they split up to begin another round of training. Milo backed away in fear as Sindy cracked her knuckles, flying toward him.

“My turn,” she said, licking her lips as she pulled her arm back in preparation for a super-strength punch straight in Milo's pouting face.

“Mommy...” he whined just as her blue-gloved fist slammed into his squishy face and sent him flying across the room and landing in a heap with a fist-shaped indentation in his face.

“It's a little early for pet names, don'tcha think, Milo?” she asked bashfully.

Milo simply rested his concave head on his hand and said “Should have listened to my dad and become a masseur,”