"Nothing to worry about, my dear..." said the slinky femme fatale in the red, white and blue bondage gear and the eastern European accent. She strutted about with all the Hydra stooges groveling and saluting about her. "...I'm just making sure that we're both still on the same page."

   "You...you're Madame Hydra, aren't you?"

   "No, Janet. I haff abandoned zat identity forever. Just as I haff abandoned my as 'Kaptain Ameri-fool'."

   "Y-you...you aren't Captain..."

   "Oh, yes I vas, Janet. I allowed SHIELD to transform me into a perfect duplicate uff Ophelia Sarkissian, zo I could take down Hydra from within. But now I understand zat I vas always a fool. A trusting, blind fool vith a 'kick me' sign on my back. I reject zat man...his life...his ideals...und his empty, dismal vay uff serving hiss country. 'Madame Amerika' vill be der champion MY Amerika deserves. But...I can't do it alone, Janet. I haff had Arnim Zola prepare ze DNA uff several off Hydras' best agents...zo zat I may offer you ze same freedom."

   Janet tried to shrink down, but something was keeping her from using her powers. She screamed "NO! Cap, DON'T do this!"

   The woman with the 'Zsa Zsa Gabor' accent rolled her eyes, and shook her head. "Callink me zat name vont help you, capitalist fool. Now hold stilll...und zink happy thoughts. You vill no longer be a joke...but ze cornerstone uff my new American Hydra! Ve shall conquer zis country...for its own good, und I shall be ze queen zat zis nation uf idiots deserves!!!"

   Janet tried to struggle, but the woman pressed something against her neck...

   ***

   Janet leapt through the wall of fire, tucking and rolling as she drew her sword and smashed into the fourth wave of attackers. With her shield she blocked the bullets that were fired at her, and as she lashed out with a roundhouse kick she caught the wrist of one of her attackers. She twisted the arm hard enough to cause pain, but didn't break the limb. Instead she threw her shield, knocking three men unconscious as she flipped over the rest, trouncing them all in record time. Madame America smiled. Her troops were well trained, but they had no chance to even slow the passage of the unstoppable...

   "Janet!" she called from her observation perch. The woman never paused, but said over her shoulder "Hey, Stephanie. Did you like the show? These are good combatants. It'll be a pleasure training them...to be even better. Once I'm done with them, one Hydra Agent will be a match for a dozen SHIELD oafs."

   She stopped fighting, and the Hydra Agents backed off respectfully. Janet walked towards her leader, knowing the the woman who stood before her was her only equal in personal combat. She smiled, knowing she had nothing to fear from her. Stephanie Rokissian was not simply her leader, but also her friend...and saviour. Madame America had rescued her from her wasted life as a money-grubbing faux-fashionista with delusions of grandeur. She thought of Janet Van Dyne with nothing but contempt these days, and the fact that she was gone forever brought her the purest joy she could imagine. No...she was no longer Janet Van Dyne, aka the 'Winsome Wasp'...she was now and forever Janet Masters...the mercenary called the Taskmistress. She could still shrink, fly and fire her stinging 'bio-blasts', but these powers were minor compared to her photographic reflexes...and her physical prowess. She was a huge, brawny woman, more than a foot taller than the old Janet, and her skull mask gave her a sinister look, but as she embraced Madame America, she pulled her mask off. A solid chin and strong jaw changed her face, as did the buzz cut hair...but she was obviously still the same woman.

   "Und how do you enjoy your new life, my friend?"

   Janet Masters laughed and stood at attention. "There's no comparison, Stephanie. My life began the day you stripped me of that stupid women's personality and desires, and showed me what REAL living was. I'd rather die than be that tart again. Thank you, Stephanie. You are my goddess."

   Stephanie Rokissian was delighted in her friends changes, both mental...and physical. Arnim Zola had made one small mistake, for which Madame America thanks him. She'd left just a little to much of the old Anthony Masters' DNA in his mixture...and the thick, massive cock and balls that the Taskmistress now had made Madame America smile...almost as much as it did Janet. Janet Masters LOVED her new dick, and every night she and several Hydra Agents (male or female) would sweat and shudder in her bed. But...Stephanie knew that what Janet really wanted...was to renew her relationship with her old 'husband' Hank. 

   Stephanie ran her hand over the large codpiece that protected Janets' massive cock, and smiled. 

   ***

   The former Hank Pym hefted the weights he was benching, pleased with his new body. He was not a woman, and that shamed and lessened him in his eyes, but at least Madame America and the divine Taskmistress had been giving him many surgeries and hormone treatments to feminize his horrible male body. He'd actually become bigger and stronger. More muscled and powerful. But his chest now sported huge, hefty breasts and his once impressive tackle had been shrunk and remade into tiny, boyish nubs of no use to any woman. His ass, however...had been injected and molded into a big, plump, bubble butt that drove him mad with desire. Life would be so easy, happy and satisfying for...

   "Hank? Hank Pym! Attend me, man!"

   The sound of his powerful wife commanding him sent his brain into tumbles...but her words filled him with self-loathing. He wasn't a REAL woman, but a man shaming womanhood...and that made him HATE his manhood all the more. He wasn't at all stupid. He still had all the inventive and scientific genius of Hank Pym, but now he worked his scientific wonders only for the wonderful women who he served.

   He strode into Hydra command, and at the sight of Madame America and the Taskmistress...his self loathing caused him to reach up and touch his massive breasts. His costume was skintight in some places and padded in others, giving him a false female shape that he hoped he'd someday grow into. His costume was a mix of dark red-browns and soft tans. His short brown hair was covered with a lush red wig. His mannish face softened with bold cosmetics. Even peoples who assumed he was a woman would have assumed he was a bull dyke...until they way that epic ass. His tiny 'dickie & dinkies' between his strong legs was of no use anymore, but his round and projecting buttocks wiggled sexily as he walked about in his high-heeled boots.. 

   He controlled himself and stood tall, thrusting his massive tits and cocking his padded hips. He was a powerful bruiser, but his brain was of greater use to Hydra. He'd already provided hundreds of his fellow agents with Pym Particle-based powers, and had just finished a simple and cheap way to transport goods and troops over vast distances via dimensional travel. 

   "So, how do you feel, Hank?" asked Madame America, knowing that being called by his old name was hurting him.

   "Please...stop calling me that! Please...I don't want to be him..."

   "But you vere him, Hank. You vere 'Hank Pym'. You vere a beeg, manly man..."

   "NO! I was NEVER that piece of SHIT! He abused his wife! He struck her! He thought he was so tough, but he's NOTHING next to me! I'm a better woman than he EVER was a man!"

   The tears of frustration in his eyes made Madame America stop smiling. It was obvious that THIS fusion was a difficult one for both subjects. She smiled, and walked to the towering mans' side. She reached up and touched his arm. The former Hank Pym flinched, then leaned into her. Madame America was joined by the Taskmistress, and Hank Pyms' tears flowed like water.

   "I j-j-just wish...that I could be a r-r-real wo-wo-woman...like you..." he wept.

   "But you ARE a REAL voman, Hank. In here..." Madame America touched Hanks' forehead, then hissed his cheek. "...und you don't really hate all men. After all, look at ze size uff der Taskmistress' cock."

   Hank sniffed, and watched as Janet exposed her massive cock. 

   "You see? YOU aren't a man...Janet is. Janet has a beeg, huge cock...und you luff having it up inside you. Right?"

   "Well...yes. I guess...I'm a woman...and Janet's a man..."

   "Of course you're a woman." said Jan, smiling as she ran her powerful hands over Hank's large buttocks and cupped his massive breasts. "A proud, sexy woman. A woman's woman. Would I lie to you?"

   Hank sniffed, then smiled. "No. You wouldn't. I...I AM a woman!"

   "You've ALWAYS been a woman...up here..." she touched his forehead "...and in here..." she touched his chest  between his tits. "...so your body doesn't matter. You've always been a woman..."

   Hanks face acquired a smirking, confident quality, very much like the woman he was shaming. "Yeah. I'm a woman. No. Not JUST a woman...I'm a WOMYN. I'm a REAL WOMYN! If I wasn't a woman, I wouldn't be fucking my big, strong...husband, Jan."

   "Yes...but what's your name?"

   Hank paused, frowning. Was...his name 'Hank Pym'? If he was a woman...or rather, a WOMYN (curse the mancentric manocracy that made the female the 'lesser') then...his...no, HER name COULDN'T be 'Hank'...

   "Henrietta? Have you forgotten your name? I shouldn't think so..." 

   "I...Henrietta? My name's Henrietta?"

   The look of pleasure and relief in his face made both Stephanie Rokissian and Janet Masters smile. They weren't monsters, after all. They'd wanted to tweak the arrogant Hank Pyms' male ego...but with this fusion, perhaps it would be better to simply redirect that ego...in the other way. The subject he'd been influenced by was a raging manhater...

   "Yes, darling..." said Madame America "...you are Henrietta Louisa van Pym. You are ze Man-Killer. You haff alvays been ze Man-Killer. You haff alvays been Henrietta Louisa van Pym. You swagger and boast of your sex at all times, knowing zat men...except for your wonderful she-male husband Jan...are WORTHLESS. You are a loud, aggressive feminist and Womyn's libber...und alvays haff been. You understand?"

   Later

   "Yes, Jan! Take me! Take me, you...fucking MAN! Take my pussy! Take my wet, hungry PUSSY" howled the naked and sweating Henrietta Louisa van Pym. In her memories, she was a female scientist, inventor and 'Womyn's Studies' scholar, and Hank Pym (a distant relative) had stolen her discoveries and claimed them for himself. She HATED the evil Hank Pym with every fiber of her being. As much as she hated men, she LOVED her wonderful husband Jan. Since Janet Masters had a penis - and a huge one at that - she MUST be a man. She could accept Jen, because he looked so much like a womyn. Hank was fucking her 'pussy' right now, and Henrietta never questioned that fact, even though Jan was fucking her ass. As Jan slammed 'his' dick home, Henriettas' massive breasts swung and bounced in time with the thrusts. 'She' roared and bellowed in her obviously female voice (thanks to another surgery) "Oh, YES! Take me, Jan! Make me your WIFE! Make me your WIFE!"

   Jan enjoyed sex with the VERY female Henrietta, enjoying the mix of submission and feminine pride. Henrietta Louisa van Pym was PROUD of 'her' WOMYNHOOD, and could never be convinced that she wasn't a real female. It was a delight to sit and talk about feminine power with the firmer male, listening as Henrietta dismissed all males with a wave of 'her' hand,  insisting "A womyn needs a man like a fish needs a frying pan. Except for you, Jan. I'll always love you."

   Yes. Henrietta Louisa van Pym. The Giant-Man-Killer. She was as strong as the Man-Killer, but with Hank Pym's (or rather Henrietta Louisa van Pym's) 'Pym Particles', she could grow to astounding size and her strength could match the Hulk. She was working on Superias' old formula to turn men into biological women, and Madame America was very interested in her progress.