To Become The First Sabertooth Super-Soldier

"Strip her," Dr. Emile Dorian ordered as they stepped into the lab. "And strap her down on the table. Her reaction so far has been positive...very positive."

The catwomen obediently obeyed. The reporter, tongue oddly thick in her mouth, could barely squirm as they stripped off her jacket, shirt, and pants. Lois Lane's cheeks flushed as her bra and panties quickly followed. The "table" was a surgical table, reinforced leather straps swiftly cinched tight across her chests and forehead, arms, legs and thighs, with cuffs on her wrists and ankles.

"Wha..." Lois managed, but her tongue and throat weren't working. She watched as the doctor stood before a table laden with various pieces of electromechanical equipment. She saw vials of grey-white goo...spinning in centrifuges, bubbling in beakers. Sampled and tested in devices she had no name for. Dorian, however, moved swiftly and efficiently, combining several vials together into several syringes.

"You're probably wondering what I'm doing," he spoke loudly, so that the bound and naked reporter could hear him as he worked. "As you've observed, I've successfully affected the creation of genetic hybrids of human and cat—domestic housecats, in this case. A wonder of gene therapy. However, as you may have noticed they're rather...docile."

He turned, a syringe in either hand. The red hair was a little tousled now, and beads of perspiration on is forehead showed his nervousness...or excitement. Yet Dorian's voice was carefully controlled.

"More than that, their physical strength, speed, and reaction times are only slightly increased. Hardly the best of both worlds. Hardly...salable...as super-soldiers. Worthwhile experiments, but I'm ready to move onto something a little more ambitious. Something that combines the intelligence and adaptability of a human with the strength, speed, and aggression of a big cat. My opportunity came when I was able to steal a sample of sabertooth DNA..."

The mad scientist stepped forward, almost shaking with excitement, yet his hands were steady. Lois watched with trepidation as he grew nearer. The needles seemed to loom huge in his hands, the points wicked and glittering.

"My T99 compound in your drink has prepped you for new genetic material to be spliced into your own," he said, voice dropping to a whisper. "Now...let's see what happens."

Without another word, Dorian thrust the needles into the reporter's flesh. **** as she was, Lois Lane couldn't even scream.