Bimbo Outbreak Pt. 19

"Do you promise, Master?"

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Sierra Munroe gasped softly as she leaned back in her oversized office chair, wiggling her smooth hips gently against the soft leather as she examined the display of images on her arrayed monitors.

All the while Anna licked and worshiped her tight slick perfect pussy beneath the massive mahogany desk. Sierra's chilly blue eyes gleamed as they danced over the different still images captured by her Mammazon strike squads' various dashboard and body cams.

She curled one long supple stockinged calf over the hunched shoulder and down the curved back of her petite ginger plaything Then Sierra used the leverage to crush the poor stupid girl's working mouth harder against her needy aching cunt as her five inch stiletto heel dug cruelly into the little skanks flesh like a spur.

On the screen before her were images of something... of someone impossible and she wanted him. She wanted to own him and make him her property!

Sierra had listened to the report Tamara delivered upon returning to her high-rise headquarters and if she wasn't so confident that Tamara couldn't lie to her--not while in her direct presence and under the complete thrall of her extreme bewitching exquisiteness--Sierra would have thought it some cum-starved delusion.

But no, Tamara's squadmates had confirmed all the dirty details and now Sierra had the camera footage to prove it. Four of her crystal displays were lit up with still images of the naked herculean figure fighting on his front lawn from different angles and perspectives while the fifth replayed the fight from that dumb musclehead Harper's bodycam on an endless loop.

She snaked her long carefully manicured fingers into her pussy-slave's bright orange curls and gripped her hard. Grinding and smearing her pussy down into the silly slut's face as she writhed in her huge plush leather seat and watched the footage play out again.

Gawd but he threw the powerful blonde around as though she were a blowup fuckdoll! Anna moaned and whimpered delightfully into her gushing twat as the witless tart struggled to breath, trapped fast between her Mistresses perfectly long silky clenching thighs.

Sierra had to have him. Her eyes zeroed in on the ultra-high definition display for that quick moment when his massive swinging erection flashed briefly across the screen.

It was perfect; as large as her own forearm. Rigid and flawless. It glistened wetly and looked angry. A real battle boner that looked almost furious as He did when the blonde Mammazon had broken away from his indomitable grasp and fled like a coward.

Harper--that useless Mammazon imbecile--was now confined to her quarters down on the tenth floor because she had been a shaking silently sobbing mess all throughout the debriefing. The brainless brute wouldn't stop blubbering and mumbling to herself until Sierra had finally ordered her to be taken away.

Him... this Tom.

Sierra had seen to it that his younger sisters and his toy schoolgirl were questioned and then locked away. They would be her bait. She eased up on Anna enough to lean forward and flick idly through her many video feeds until she came to the live stream of the three young women sitting on spare cots in one of her detention cells.

There was no sound for her to hear but they looked docile enough. Just sitting and talking to one another. They would be the lure that hooked her prize stud. Bringing him into her superbly outstretched arms and inevitably... into his prison stall deep below the building.

Sierra would build him a special private pen of his own, separate from her other lesser piggies.

She would strap the cum-tube on him herself--though it would have to be a custom job judging by his enormity--and whisper hot sweet filthy words into his manly ear until he filled it full. And how he would fill it. This Tom. Her Tom!

Sierra was grinding her steaming little cunt hard into Anna's dripping wet face again now as she pictured it. That glorious perfect cock gushing great buckets of precious cum for her exclusive consumption. Hers alone and not for any other.

She would visit him daily. Groom him like a toy pony while he was trapped there on his hands and knees before her. Sierra might even hand-feed him small treats as she crooned to him... all once she had enslaved him to her will. Once she owned Him.

...and he would come to her.

It was written large in every line of his body as Sierra watched the battle footage again. The blazing fury with which he fought just screamed of the rarest type of man who would climb whole mountain ranges just to reclaim the smallest quotient of what was taken from him.

Even now her freshly chastised Mammazons were securing the building. Sierra had locked down the complex and secured her general staff before opening the armory to her warriors. All four of her strike squads were awake, fully equipped and on high alert despite the predawn hour. All under the direction of her freshly motivated chief enforcer Tamara Wight.

She had given them one simple instruction and drilled it into their combined skulls with all the power her bright radiant blinding beauty had afforded her:

Capture him alive by any means necessary...

Any. Means. Necessary.

Alive.

Then, as if on cue, the penthouse lights and her displays went dark.

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"The power's been cut, this is it! Stay on your toes, Ladies!" Tamara yelled into her shoulder radio from the upper atrium overlooking the large open lobby floor of Albion Aromatics.

Practised return chatter crackled back down the line as the head Mammazon flicked on the flashlight affixed beneath the barrel of her M79 40mm Grenade Launcher which she hefted into the ready position. It butted against her shoulder and she tensed up, looking down at the only way in or out the building.

Nothing.

Nothing was happening and Tamara knew the back-up generators would be kicking on any moment now. Her Mistress Sierra was one scary bitch but she'd say this much for her, she was one very well prepared scary bitch.

She learnt quickly from other people's mistakes and despised all forms of weakness. So after they had seized the building from the previous owner, Sierra had ordered it made into her own personal fortress. To protect herself, certainly, but more importantly; to secure her precious pigs held prisoner downstairs.

Tamara's mistress didn't want anyone to repeat her own ruthless performance or get rushed by angry mobs of infected females if the secret of her stables was ever discovered.

Cameras had been mounted everywhere. In every room and covering all the outside approaches. Powerful generators had been rolled off the back of large trucks and set up in the basement. Mag-locks and fingerprint scanners were installed. Steel fire doors had been welded shut in their frames and the bottom three levels of the inner stair well had been filled in with countless tons of quick dry cement permanently sealing them away.

Automated blast-doors (actual goddamn blast doors!) had been installed in key locations--and hadn't that been a bitch of a job--all wired upstairs to Sierra Munroe's penthouse office...

Or her command center, as the Mistress prefered to call it.

The distant rumbling sound of the aforementioned backup generators coming to life was distantly matched by the growing roar of a fast approaching engine.

The lights flickered back on just in time to illuminate the enormous cab of a pillbox red city fire-engine jumping the curb at reckless speeds and crashing spectacularly through the four inch thick laminated glass frontage right into the lobby.

Tamara just stared in wide eyed awe as the massive municipal vehicle plowed madly through the service desk--reducing the polished oak timber to kindling--before smashing to a halt against a huge marble column. The almighty impact cracked the support and sent a tremor through the entire building.

A cloud of concrete dust and the klaxon squeal of the building's alarm system filled the air as everything was still for a long moment. Then something moved atop the roof of the smoking fire-engine. It was that same fucking redheaded psycho from earlier shaking off smashed debris as she rose to her knees.

She wasn't naked this time. No, the busty bitch was dressed in a slutty firefighter Halloween costume complete with the Fire Department hard hat and an oxygen mask dangling loosely around her slender neck

"Hit the pumps!" She screamed over the blaring siren. Her massive tits heaving in the tightly zipped black and yellow PVC crop-blazer as she seized the wide handles of the water cannon mounted upfront.

The attacker's luscious ass wiggled in a tiny pair of matching black PVC hot-pants with a broad yellow belt banding her extra small waist as she worked. She looked so incongruous with the present circumstances that Tamara was briefly stunned but rallied fast.

"Deploy the gas!" She yelled to the beta squad hiding on the ground floor then over to the sole remaining alpha squad member standing at the atrium railing with her, "Baton rounds are live!"

"Bring it, you crusty dried up Bitches!" The insane stripper cackled as four tumbling steel canisters bounced off the huge truck. They rebounded, rolled then began hissing out great clouds of tear gas in the center of the large open space effectively reducing target visibility.

Three tall Mammazons in gas masks extended their telescopic batons and rushed the vehicle while the fourth squad member stalked forward and trained a readied net cannon on the scene. Just then a high pressure blast of water burst from within the toxic fog and struck the closest sprinting Mammazon square in her bountiful chest. It blew the powerful woman clean off her feet, sending her sprawling amid the broken glass on the wet marble flooring.

The firefighter lunatic had her mask on now and was cutting the air with the powerful torrent of water. Swiveling and twisting to bring it to bear on the attacking offenders, knocking them back and dispersing the gas at the same time.

Then the doors of the truck cab were kicked open and three lithe athletic XXX-girls leapt out.

They were dressed in super skimpy highschool cheerleader outfits that bared far more supple young flesh than the tiny costumes concealed and sported brightly colored oxygen masks covering their pretty faces. All their hair was up in matching pigtails and they were armed too. With large wooden baseball bats and... was that a fucking t-shirt cannon?!

...but the real showstopper was the hulking figure dressed in fifty pounds of true-to-life, authentic firefighting gear stepping down from the driver's side.

Decked head to toe in the traditional black rubberized suit complete with a red composite helmet, breathing mask, oxygen tank and a huge, bright gleaming fire axe held in a large gloved hand... He looked far more than a little intimidating.

Tamara could feel the fear mounting inside herself at the horrifying notion of facing Him for the second time in less than a few hours.

"Open fire!" She screamed as her ears rang from the constant wail of the siren and the Chief Mammazon just wished someone would turn that god forsaken racket off already.

Gunfire erupted from the atrium as she and her last Alpha squad-mate Lindsay prepared to rain non-lethal hell on these mental bitches and their formidable uber-male master.

Her first rocket-propelled rubber grenade smashed in the truck's windshield and spidered the thick glass. Tamara swore as she broke open the breech to eject the smoking spent shell and reload. Her hands were shaking. Plastic bullets filled the air as Lindsay fired her shotgun, racked it and fired again as fast as she could. Aiming at the towering firefighter standing out like a tall beacon amid the chaos and carnage.

The gun might as well have been a pea shooter for all the effect it had on him. The infernal Firefighter turned and pointed with his axe at the escalators up to the two shooting Mammazons and the recessed corridor leading to the elevator banks where gamma squad waited in defense.

Two of the cheerleaders were trading blows with the baton wielding Mammazons now, while the one with the t-shirt cannon fired something at the third.

Was that a damn football?

Had these crazy motherfuckers raided a novelty store for costumes and equipment on their way to a rescue mission? Tamara would have felt insulted if her own girls weren't currently getting their proverbial shit handed to them.

The mad redhead was laughing from behind her mask and focusing the full might of the water blaster on the Mammazon with the net cannon. Plastering her up against the wall with crushing force. The baseball bat sluggers were giving her girls a rough time too. They may not have been Mammazon strong but shit they were quick and they fought dirty.

The cheerleader with pink hair had just ducked under Beta Squad's mighty swing. Her bare ass flashed as her tiny pleated skirts flew up and she cracked her bat into the exposed Mammazon's shin making her cry out. The darker haired cheerleader seemed to prefer going for knees and elbow joints. Taking her enemy apart a piece at a time as she floated and spun around her frustrated panting opponent, long limbs flashing with each strike.

The fucking T-shirt cannon girl was reloading with a small basketball now and her Mammazon foe--who was hiding behind a large couch--looked pretty beat up as a couple of mini footballs rolled about her feet.

It was ridiculous and now that impressively large fireman was charging the escalator with great thunderous steps.

Fuck this...

"Delta team, get up here. We need to hold the high ground." Tamara yelled into her radio, just as the screaming the alarm finally quit, "Hold the escalator--what the fuck?!"

A ridiculously curvy latina maid had just ran in through the shattered glass entry dressed in full frilly black dress and white apron uniform. Except she was wearing thick insulated workman's gloves and carrying the heaviest pair of long-handled industrial wire-cutters Tamara had ever seen.

So that explained the loss of mains power. But this woman, really?

"Estella did it, Estella did it! Estella is a good girl for Master! C'mon Jody!" She sing-songed loudly in a exotic South American accent as she rushed the hiding Mammazon behind the couch, madly swinging the heavy cutters at the shocked warrior woman.

Hot on her heels was a dead sexy nurse with wavy copper hair and equally overblown hips, double-stuffed butt and staggering tits ballooning out her teensie white lycra mini dress. The overinflated pornstar parody skidded nimbly to a halt in four inch tall matching snowy pumps, kicking up a spray of shattered glass and water to look back through the busted glass facade then slap her huge shaking barely-covered ass at someone behind her.

"Come and get it Big Boy!"

Oh no...

Delta squads four members had just rushed out from where Tamara had been hiding them in reserve to engage the grim charging fireman at the top of the moving stairs.

Taser darts bounced off his heavy protective gear as he swept one Mammazon's legs out from under her with an almighty swing of the axe, catching her calves with the blunted side of the head. Despite his near proximity Tamara kept her Grenade launcher nervously trained out towards the midnight streets.

Then a terrifyingly familiar hulking man-monster came crashing into the lobby like a rampaging troll from a storybook.

It was huge, very naked and it was feeling either very angry or extremely horny judging by its twisted furious expression and its massive jutting erection. Its beady eyes were rolling madly in its balding skull as its fat nostrils flared. Then it threw back its head and roared.

"WANT ASS!! WANT PUUUSSSY!!"

Tamara fired just as Lindsay pulled the pins on two rubber ball grenades and tossed them down into roiling melee below.

The rubber RPG struck true. Cracking hard into the side of the monster's face before ricocheting out into the dark behind him. That shot would have likely killed a normal man but instead this distorted creature just grunted and grabbed the side of its head in pain. Then he--it stared directly up at her with either foulest murder or the most hateful lust in it's bulging red-rimmed eyes.

"FUCK PUSSY!!"

"Awww, shiiiiit~..." Lindsay hissed and they both ducked for cover before twin explosions sent black berry-sized rubber balls flying at high velocity in all directions. The tiny missiles ping-ponged wildly off the walls, furniture and people indiscriminately.

A couple of loud grunts and girlish screams of pain accompanied the patter of the bouncing projectiles.

Ejecting another spent shell and reloading, Tamara stood up with the smell of burning cordite filling her nose. The scene below her was a madhouse.

Blood mingled with the puddling water and broken glass everywhere. Three of Beta squad were down as the fourth member rolled over the upturned couch wrestling with the curvy latina maid and the curvy cheerleader as they kicked, bit and clawed at the panicking Mammazon.

The candy-haired cheerleader was down but alive and groaning as the pale skinned nurse with the soccer ball sized tits bent over to check on her. The minuscule white nurses outfit riding up and exposing half her full firm ass and more than a hint of lacy white panties as she did so.

The remaining caramel skinned cheerleader and the nasty redhead in the tiny firefighter costume were racing up the escalator to support their looming Master who was hammering relentlessly with his heavy axe on the riot shield Delta squad was trying to hold him back with. He was leaving massive dents and gashes in the steel barrier as the powerful Mammazon behind it cried out in pain with each terrific impact.

The gargantuan monster with the huge throbbing cock wasn't to be forgotten though as it waded through the mire of battle. Its burning bloodshot eyes locked onto Tamara as it reached the crashed fire engine and grabbed a two foot wide truck tire in both massive meaty hands then--with a horrible, loud squeal of rending metal and bursting lug nuts--tore it clean off the axle.

"Oh SHIIIIT~!" Tamara screamed, echoing Lindsay's earlier sentiment as the raging beast pulled back a gigantic burly arm and hurled the wheel like a discus straight at them.

Ducking again as the massive projectile careened over her head, Tamara urgently called for the retreat.

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Sierra squirmed in her chair. No... she writhed. Sierra fucking thrashed and flailed!

Anna lay on the floor under the desk still and unmoving. Sierra had smothered the silly chit's face with her gushing pussy until the girl had stopped licking then stopped moving altogether.

Still burning with aching need Sierra had ferociously kicked her limp, brainless slave away so she could desperately bury her own eager fingers deep inside herself as she watched the battle unfold over her surveillance feeds.

He was here! Her Tom; her prized king stud and he dared to challenge her! Oh but Sierra would punish him for that soon... such sweet delicious punishment. She had three fingers buried deep inside her tight pussy now. The most she had ever managed to fit into the narrow virginal channel and Sierra was cramming them in and out as though she wanted to get her entire hand up there...

Urngh!

Her troops had fallen back to the corridor leading back to the elevator bay. Leaving one sacrificial Mammazon with a riot shield behind to hold the line as the rest stumbled, ran and scrambled in retreat to a more defensible position.