Bimbo Outbreak Pt. 18

Off to his right Tania was engaged with two more camo and black clad women. Trying to fight her way to Jessica and Britney, already having seen her TomLord heading for Holly. The kidnappers had extendable batons out but Tania had the reach advantage on them with a steel shod garden rake she had picked up somewhere.

In the fast pulsing light the fight was all playing out like a horrifying stop-motion animation.

His warrior woman was giving the two intruders hell but they weren't surrendering ground fast enough and another of the uniformed kidnappers was already bundling his sisters into the back of the second van parked outside of Mrs Hope's home. The girls were trussed up with large thick zip ties and gagged with duct tape over their silently screaming mouths. Jessica and Britney's eyes were wide with terror as the doors closed, sealing them within the dark vehicle.

BOOM!

Tom grunted as something struck his back, just under his left shoulder blade hard.

He turned and saw the blonde invader had retreated back to the van Holly was being bundled into. She was cradling the hand he had caught earlier. With her stood another tall strong fitness model-type with soft Asian features clutching a taser pistol and the original hair-in-a-bun brunette; she of the net gun who had ensnared his BabyGirl.

Except she was holding some broad barreled shotgun instead, which she racked and brought up to point at him again. She glared at Tom down the iron sights before firing a second time.

BOOM!

Tom knew he was fast but probably not fast enough to dodge a bullet. Besides, as the dull throbbing in his back had already subsided, Tom suspected he wouldn't have too.

It still hurt like hell as something impacted violently with his broad muscular chest, but looking down Tom noted that he wasn't bleeding and on the ground lay a small, soft, misshapen nylon pouch.

...a bean bag?

Glowering back up at his would-be attackers, they stared back at him with wide eyed looks of shock and disbelief on their stunned faces.

"Holy fuck... really?" The blonde gaped at him even as he stalked angrily towards them.

Like a stampede swiftly gathering the momentum, Tom closed in on them. His bare toes dug into the dewy front lawn as his exposed cock swung pendulously between his bulging thighs.

"He isn't real... he cannot be real..." The raven haired assailant with the taser moaned, her knees knocking together as her thighs began to slide against one another.

Her voice was strangely prim with a clipped educated accent, perhaps British? It hardly mattered in the moment...

"Alpha squad, get back in the van. That's an order! We're withdrawing." The beanbag blasting brunette cried, firing off another shot which Tom rapidly shrugged off as he quickly ate up the distance between them.

"But Tamaraaa~ Just look at hiiiim~" The injured blonde whined almost collapsing to her own knees when Tom was almost atop them.

Dropping two shining metallic cylinders practically at her own feet, the assailant identified as Tamara wrapped an arm around each of her team-mates' waists, braced her feet and leapt through the side door of the van just before Tom reached them.

It wasn't graceful or impressive. It looked painful and messy as one of them clipped a shin and they all landed badly in a tangled heap of limbs. All awkward shoulders and twisted spines.

...Or at least that was the quick impression Tom got before the two primed grenades exploded at the same moment he closed in on the large van.

The flash-bang was instantaneous and really Tom should have expected it as he was blinded for the second time in less than a minute. The tear gas was a fraction slower but far more insidious.

"Drive!"

The female voice was panicked and pitched high with terror as Tom's skin burned and his eyes watered.

An engine revved loudly as he collided heavily with the side of the van, steel buckling under the might of his impact, his hand reaching out wildly to grab at those within. Something soft but warm filled his palm so he latched onto it and pulled.

A feminine scream of pain and fear filled his ears as Tom yanked that someone free of the vehicle's interior just as the van's tires spun up, burning rubber and then shooting away down the street. Its heavy back end fish-tailed wildly as the driver fought to regain control of the wild high-speed retreat.

Standing there--the captured attacker still in hand, half-blinded with his skin, nose and mouth on fire from the fast dispersing gas--Tom finally let out a furious, bellowing roar.

Nobody took what was his!

________________

Tamara Wight trembled as she patched up Harper in the back of the speeding jouncing van.

The fit, blonde Mammazon was whimpering as Tamara tore open the emergency first aid kit and unspooled a length of gauze to tightly wrap the other woman's badly sprained wrist. The van's interior reeked of fear tinged with a remaining waft of the tear gas she had unleashed in her desperate bid to escape with what little they had managed to grab in the mad chaos.

Equipment jingled in the mountings on the vehicles walls as the racer van mounted the pavement briefly and Tamara swore back at Lindsay, their get-away driver but she could hardly blame her. The whole operation had been one massive, terrifying disaster!

She could recover from this though, Tamara had to. Mistress Sierra did not take reports of failure kindly, not at all. The carry-over fear of what they had just experienced warred with the awful anxiety of having to report back to the bewitching CEO within Tamara and made her hands shake as she tried to secure the loose end of the bandage with some medical tape.

"He will come for me."

The voice was small and girlish but rang clear and confident over the roar of the gunning engine. It came from the mess of webbing jammed up behind the driver's seat. A bare foot, a partially free arm and few blonde locks of hair peeked out from the mess of black nylon cordage that entangled their captive as twin bright baby blue eyes flashed in the darkened rear of the van.

There wasn't any fear in the fucking XXX-slut's eyes and Tamara felt a hot lump of resentment form deep in her flat muscled belly for it.

"Shut up you little whore, you don't know what you're talking about!" She snarled over her shoulder at the beautiful barely legal XXX-infected teen.

Her injured shin throbbed painfully in time with her racing heartbeat and she could feel a slow flow of blood pooling in the heel of her left boot. Tamara had knocked it badly in her mad leap to escape and she would be lucky if her tibia wasn't fractured.

How had it all gone so wrong?

"He'll come for me. My big strong DaddyMaster will come for me..." Harper let out a small animal whimper of terror at the carefree sing-song lilt in the captured schoolgirl's voice, "...and then you will all be in biiig~ trouble."

DaddyMaster? What sort of mind-fuckery was going on in that house? None of this made any sense to Tamara. She and her highly trained strike-squads should have been able roll in and mop up the scene like they always did.

Then He had appeared and complicated everything, far more than she or anyone else could have ever accounted for...

"Don't listen to her, we're going to be just fine." Tamara told her quivering muscular blonde squad-mate as she ripped the leg of her own camouflage pants open to inspect the damage on her right lower shin.

...Yeah, it was torn and bleeding but it was nothing the Chief Mammazon enforcer couldn't endure. "We just need to get back to HQ and hunker down. We can all lick our wounds while Mistress Sierra comes up with a new plan."

Tearing the plastic cap off a small bottle of isopropanol with her teeth Tamara squinted hard into the pain as she splashed the broken inflamed flesh liberally with the alcohol solution. She finished cleaning the wound before pulling out a large adhesive patch to cover it. Tamara was working on autopilot as her strategic mind raced, sorting through dozens of possible actions and their likely outcomes, finding few that appealed to her.

"But--But what if she is right? Tamara, we can't..."

"Shut up and let me think for a second!"

Her Mistress Sierra wasn't going to be happy with this less than optimal outcome and she was going to make that displeasure crystal clear and visceral.

Somehow that didn't feel fair to Tamara. She was returning with a captured specimen carrying a brand new strain of the XXX-virus, rock solid intel on at least one--probably two--hither unheard of new male strains (a male XXX-infected? Who could ever have dreamt of anything like that?) and the two hostages to be used as leverage against them to boot.

...and she had accomplished all of this in spite of that... that MAN!

The clear and recent memory of the brief fight against him ran a freezing cold icicle of panic up her spine at the same time as a smoldering embers ignited in her quivering womanly nethers.

He had been dreadful to oppose yet so magnificent to behold. So supremely confident and so very, very strong!

As a Mammazon Tamara recognized and respected strength in all forms. She respected her squad's lethal brutality that allowed them to burst into safe houses and fortified homes to combat and subdue the weak little men that still hid themselves away in fear. She respected the strength of will, cunning and beauty her Mistress possessed in running and growing her ruthless organization in the middle of global chaos.

But that Man...

"I belong to Tom. He will come for me... and then for you."

"Please.... p-please stop saying that." Harper whispered, nervously clutching her bandaged wrist to her bountiful chest as Tamara was lost to a not-so-distant memory, replaying all she had seen in the hope of spotting some flaw or weakness she could exploit.

This... Tom had gone toe to toe with Harper, one of her best and strongest Mammazons in nothing but a satin bathrobe and bare feet. He had handled an elite armed Mammazon striker as though she were a goddamn puppy and did it all without any sign of strain or effort.

His movements had been all monstrous power hidden away behind smoothest flowing grace and near superhuman speed. His stacked muscular form rivaling then exceeding Tamara's own when he had charged her. He had shrugged off tasers, flash-bangs and even bean bag rounds fired close-range from a fucking shotgun.

Tamara shuddered even as her pussy smoldered.

No woman could have expected to fight an impossible man like that Tom.

Tamara was surprised to find her hands were gliding over the tops of her thick smooth thighs. Rubbing sensually against the heavy fabric close to her warm tingling womanhood. She hurriedly pulled them away even as her legs continued to slide and rub together. She had to get a handle on herself and this whole situation! She clenched her mighty fists and tried to concentrate...

Thankfully all of Beta Squad had radioed in to report that they were fine, if somewhat banged up by some redheaded psycho. Jeezus but they had lost Annemie!

That Man had crashed blindly into the van--crumpling the solid steel siding--then reached in and dragged all two hundred pounds of the tall Asian Mammazon out of a fast-moving vehicle by her thigh as though she weighed nothing!

Urgh, but was it getting warmer back here?

Tamara needed to clear her head. She needed to think... was the prisoner staring back at her with a knowing smirk on her little bitch face. Well they would all watch that grin vanish once she was faced with Sierra Monroe's blazing supernova beauty and machismo... or was that marianismo?

"Tamara, we need to report in." Lindsay called back to Tamara as she navigated them down the dark suburban streets leading back towards the city center and safety. She had the van back under control at last. "You're going to have to update Mistress Sierra on our sitrep."

Tamara didn't miss the implied expectation that it was going to be her taking all the goddamn heat. It was her responsibility as squad leader after-all.

She just had to spin it right. Present her Mistress with the opportunities they had snatched out the otherwise cluster-fuck of an operation and downplay the losses.

She turned to reach past the front seats to grab the radio out of its cradle on the console, keying in the channel in preparation to transmit.

"Stop, please Tamara!" Harper cried, desperately grabbing at Tamara's wrist as she prepared to make the call, "We can just kick the girl out the back. Drop her on the roadside and do the same with the other prisoners. Maybe then he'll leave us alone-"

SMACK!

Tamara backhanded the athletic blonde Mammazon away from her. Sending the large woman sprawling into the back corner of the confined space in a tumble of limbs and loose gear. Her panic was unacceptable and worse... it was getting to Tamara as well.

"Shut up and know your place, you muscle-brained bimbo!" She shrieked, angry spittle flying from her lips "We serve our Mistress and we will do as we were told!"

She could hear the brittle edge of her own voice as she spotted Lindsay's expression of wide-eyed shock in the rear-vision mirror. Harper didn't fight back or even try to get back up. Instead she just curled up and started to softly sob.

"You didn't have to face him like I did, so close that he had his hands on meee~ you don't understaaand!" She wailed.

Tamara felt disgusted at the pitiful display. From one of her own girls no less. It was too much and then that roped up, high school bitch giggled... Actually giggled. All airy and light, as though she was watching some delightful little comedy playing out on stage in front of her.

Tamara whirled in fury and raised her heavy fist ready to beat the bound prisoner to within an inch-

"Alpha Leader, what is your situation? Over."

The massive brunette enforcer froze as the soft but insistent voice chimed lyrically through the crackling radio in her other hand.

Her eyes bulged in a combination of both rage and fear. Her long muscular arm frozen high in midair began trembling. Time to face the music... she slowly lifted the radio to suddenly dry lips watching the smug expression on her captives face the whole time.

"Returning to HQ as we speak, Ma'am," She croaked out before clearing her voice and putting a bit more firmness back into it, "We have three prisoners, all female with two uninfected teenagers and one possibly carrying a new strain of the XXX-infection. Two males were spotted but are yet unsecured. There were... complications, Ma'am. Over."

The long pause that followed was filled with the hiss of static and gut-churning anxiety on Tamara's end.

When the answer did come it was decidedly cool and filled with so much haughty disapproval that Tamara's knees nearly buckled in dismay. Even across a stuttering radio link Sierra Monroe could tongue lash her with all the force of a nearly physical bull-whip.

"These are hardly the results I expected of you, Tamara. Perhaps I was mistaken to place so much trust in you if two simple, little males can evade you and seven of your much vaunted Mammazons. Have I not given you all you required and more? The finest quality equipment available. Teams of highly trained personnel. A steady diet of the potent high quality seed and yet, you still allowed two stray curs to escape you? This is unacceptable-"

Each word was articulated with deepest loathing. Punctuated with sneering disgust and even over the distance it clawed at the mighty brunette's very soul. Lindsay in the driver's seat actually started to weep silently.

"Mistress please..." Tamara begged, forgetting all radio discipline and dropping the professional affectation to call Sierra what she really was. "Mistress, we tried but these--these males are different! They're infected... actual male XXX-infected!"

The line crackled quietly for another long painful moment before the reply came, cold and steely but no longer mocking.

"Alpha and Beta Squads return to base for debriefing. Once we have confirmed your sightings, we can confer on how to proceed from there. Over and out."

Tamara's shoulders sagged in relief. If she survived the debriefing in one piece then her Mistress would be able to take care of everything. CEO Sierra Monroe of Albion Aromatics Pty Ltd would certainly come up with a workable plan... it was what she did better than anyone.

Letting out a deep shuddering breath of relief she let her eyes fall back to the captive still held fast within the nylon cord webbing. The stacked young blonde just beamed beatifically back at her before she mouthed five words clear enough for a blind man to have read on her smirking cherry lips.

He.

Will.

Come.

For.

Me.

Tamara trembled under the weight of the young bimbo's dreadful promise.

________________

Thanks for sticking with the story so far, dearest most discerning Reader. I really hope you enjoyed this latest chapter.

It's an old passion project of mine that I spend hours polishing, rewriting and editing (despite the many still present errors) trying to get a new installment out to you each week. So if you are enjoying it, let me know! Drop me a PM, leave a comment or buy me a coffee. I'll take any encouragement I can get to keep pumping out the silly sexy smut that forever pollutes my twisted imagination.

Cheers and happy reading!