Mission Impossible

"Valencio, we are a team, why be such a bristly drag, girls are just having some fun before deadly dangerous affair." - usually we use our callsigns instead of names, but I decided to break the rules in this case.

I sat on the table in front of him. When I tried to trace his sight, he has hidden it hastily.

"Janet, not you too, please. You just can't do it with me, I'm too tough for your teeth, accept it already. - he also switched to use real names. And he lied, the fellow in his pants betrayed true emotions of Valentine.

"So if my teeth are not impressive for you, how about my E cups?" - I squeezed my inflated boobs with my hands, producing some hollow rubbery squeaking. He threw a brief glance at me, not at my bust, but lower. So where did he look? At my hips clad into yellow skirt? Then I suddenly realized what was so magnetic for him...

To test my hypothesis I circled with my nail around my belly button where my perky air valve is audaciously not covered with any clothes, unlike the outfits of Yod and Samekh. Airplug is a sensitive spot. My fingers started playing with it seemingly on their own. He watched me, tugging that small plastic nub up and down, and that hill in his pants grew in size.

"Someone is so eager to see me deflating?" - now I knew his secret weak spot and teased him.

"Why not? Boys team is now losing disgracefully: three - nil. Pull your plug and make it three - one, for the sake of equality, fairness and so on." - he proposed sarcastically.

My left hand was busy playing with the plug, right hand rubbed my underboob, and I was in the adventurous mood to play along: "Okay, that makes sense, how about four-one, let's do it together."

Vav shook his head, refusing my gambit, but he fooled no one. I tugged my plug and it slipped out, releasing my air. My fingers felt the gentle breeze and shrinking of my chest, I lost a few millimeters of height, because of my hips losing their volume. For a moment I thought, that my plan may actually fail. But then Valentine inhaled and gasped: "What the hell, why can't I enjoy it too..." - that tirade got interrupted by hissing, which was louder than mine. I think, he would deflate faster than me, yet I decided not to check and just promptly plugged myself.

My losses were acceptable: I shrank one cup size in bust department, but that elastic material of my blouse easily adjusted and still fit me perfectly.

Although Valentine closed his eyes in bliss, he heard that my hissing is not heard anymore and he is deflating alone, he cried: "What? Janet, but you are breaking the deal! "

"Oh really? Did we have some kind of agreement?" - I asked in scoffing manner

"But that's unfair." - he felt offended, humiliated and yet obviously enjoyed his misadventure in erotic way, and this entire cocktail of emotions was in his voice.

"Unfair. Didn't you know, that I always play foul? And it works very well, four - nil, a flawless victory.

Lamed drawn a conclusion: "Not bad, girls, you exceeded my expectations. This nut crazy idea may actually work."

"Vav, thanks for participating. We needed a harder aim to train. We'll inflate you later. Sorry for any inconvenience"

"I'm fine. Glad I was ... helpful." - replied helplessly deflating hunk. He already started collapsing and soon was flat, leaving us in a girls only company, with no male ears.

"I didn't expect it to be that easy!" - said Samekh. - "Dalet, you were extremely resourceful when dealing with Vav, yet we shouldn't try this trick in the combat situation, hope you understand."

"I just wanted to do it with him too, looks like I'm getting a knack of it." - I said shaking my curls.

"I think, they liked it to, but I feel some pity over them." - said Samekh musingly.

"Our guys. Why? We'll inflate them, and they know it." - said I.

"No, not them specifically. Dudes in general, they are so ... vulnerable." - Samekh explained.

"Huh, you are right. We should think again who is the weaker sex nowadays." - I grinned.

"Not much to think about here. Guys are obviously the weaker sex. Just don't say it, when they are around, they have fragile inflated egos too."

"Enough of this philosophical chatter. Time is short and we have to discuss tactics." - said Lamed.

Two hours later Vav dropped us at the underground parking, below the colossal hotel building. Our trio exited gray minivan with pizza ad on its side.

Here they have less cameras and bystanders than at the main entrance. Of course we still had to identify ourselves before entering lifts via rfid chips sewn into pneumats' skins. Not a problem, when chip is a high quality fake. For example, that evening Nicole Vargas - she's a twenty seven, model or actress from Europe entered lift in my stead. Not sure if she really exists, though.

We were practically unarmed, carrying the very minimum: thin ceramic knives invisible for metal detectors. Inside stylish leather bag casually hanging on Samekh's shoulder was tightly folded Wittenberg 2. If everything goes smoothly he will swap places with the real director Wittenberg.

Through the closing slit between lift doors we saw our transport leaving the parking. In case of failure, we couldn't leave the building the same way we entered.

On the fourth floor the lift made a stop, a trolley with plastic buckets and various domestic chemistry rolled in driven by a swarthy middle age women.

She looked at us disapprovingly and muttered: "blown up sluts."

We just ignored her, and then she left at eighth floor.

"She could remember us." - noted Samekh.

"If we don't screw it up, and everything will go smoothly, she won't be interrogated. - I said.

"Shut up you two. There must be a camera." - whispered Yod.

There was an odd silence on the seventeenth floor. No one in the lift hall. One of these luminescent lamps winked nervously, as they usually do in thriller movies.

We went through this maze holding mental map of the floor and doing our best not to get lost. ... Then turn left, fifty meters forward, turn right, another gallery. Finally we arrived to the door. Unlike others it was sturdy and literally armored. "So what now?" - I thought - "How ironically would it be to fail, just because they don't bother to let us in."

"To mister Scottsdale." - said Yod, pressing intercom button. That's the alias Wittenberg uses, when calling girls. This quite useful information we got out of his clone.

Door didn't open. "Shit!" - I thought, - "now he must be calling his boss to double check if anyone called for prostitutes, and then we are screwed..."

We had no time for planning, so I started improvising: went up to the door, closing sight of the camera with my voluptuous bust. - "Hey, guys. Haven't your mum told you, that you shouldn't make a lady wait?"

And it actually worked! "Any weapons?" - asked a grumpy voice chewed by the intercom.

"No, where do you think we can hide it?" - I answered.

"We gonna seek for it anyway, come in."

Something inside the door clanged, then section of armor started sliding sideways and we went inside. Poorly painted walls and luminescent lamps were suddenly over, replaced by photo wallpapers with savanna sights, cozy ottoman seats and sconces emitting soothing peach pink light. Just one feature spoiled this classy interior - dozen armed thugs wrapped into tight black overalls. They were clearly breaking the harmony of this place.

"Why the fuck did you let them in? Boss didn't confirm them yet." - said red dude to the left from the entrance.

"Was there any confirmation ever? Meanwhile we can figure it out and search them" - replied another guard, he was a chunky brunet with a raunchy smile. - "Later, when we have a clearance, we'll let them pass."

"Boys, aren't you overestimating your importance?" - said Samekh, adjusting black leather handle of her purse.

Of course they were all too easy to provoke - "Shut up, bitch. Raise your hands up and face to the wall." - yelled the black-haired guard.

We grumbled a bit, but obeyed. Of course we had these small ceramic Siroccos hidden in our heels, but guys pretended to be searching in other places. I felt shameless fingers of the red dude grabbing my sides, the other guy pawed Samekh. All went as planned. I saw three more men approaching us with side vision. "I bet, they are after their share of a juicy butt." - I thought. - "They'll have it soon in their turn."

Redheaded guard got under my skirt. I swayed my hips, rubbed against him and turned half the way to murmur: "Honey, how the search for the weapons of mass destruction goes?"

He removed his hands and stepped back. "He's almost ready, just needs a final blow." - I thought. And added aloud: "Maybe one more place to check?"

I turned to him, bent forward, for the best view of my cleavage and stuck my index finger between my XXL breasts. Blunt but effective. Redhead stepped backwards again, gasped desperately trying to contain it. But it was too late to run away as he started to hiss. He staggered, stumbled, flopped down on the floor where he continued to sag and collapse.

His dark-haired pal held slightly better, but he fell to the Samekh's charms shortly after and joined him on the floor - deflating helplessly.

Spectators didn't feel any threat. We were ogled by five more clueless inflatable men just as hungry as the first two - all queued for deflation. I just beckoned the closest guy - "Hey, handsome, care to finish the search?" Of course he was eager to do it.

Actually, there were no shortage of volunteers - all the guards gathered in the hall. They exchanged lewd comments about us, they were not worried at all. "But they can get nervous, when their numbers shrink." - I thought, while that new dude pawed my hips over-excited like a virgin schoolboy. Swaying my ass to entertain him, I tried to think: "We can't deflate them one by one, because those who are waiting will eventually realize what's going on and panic. They have guns, though, even if they don't shoot at us, our plan will get screwed: fear is a killer of lust. We had to change the tactics quickly!"

I rushed things a bit with my current objective - a slim blond guy, he sported an attractive beard on his manly squarish jawbone. Probably its shape was just copied from his human original, pneumatics don't grow more body hair, if you are really fond of your body decorations - then you can order your new shell to be customized to keep them. Usually guys that just sell their copies for a reasonable sum of cash, don't bother to spend a fraction of the money, to sweeten the life of their inflatable copy. Which is foolish, because the flesh will eventually wither and die, while his pneumatic self is about to be in eternal servitude. Looks like a lot of words to say just that this guy had unusually nice face, unlike the rest of his fellow guardsmen. He was somewhat timid and thus scored one extra point of cuteness, but I had a very limited time for cuddling, so I just turned around and guided his hands to my breasts: "Did you want to seek here? You see, it wasn't that hard."

I pressed his hands, squeezing my orbs and that was the limit of his self control, according to yet another loud hissing sound. Timid blond smiled blissfully, while his legs started to sag and grow weak. I caught him by his waist and his face flopped into my cleavage. I could just discard him like the previous one and let him collapse to the floor, but felt some sympathy to the deflating lad.

Anyway, he didn't last long. While he was shrinking in my embrace, I thought my next steps through. When he was emptied, I went to the center of the hall and exclaimed: "You, boys, would never find our weapons at this pace. So we gonna show em to you. Do you have any music here?"

A minute later we danced, stepping over deflated bodies. Entire strip tease show was an unprepared makeshift. We had no time for rehearsals. However, Samekh and Yod played on. I bet, they have figured the same thing: carpet sexbombing is much better than surgical strikes.

After our opening moves we did some twerking. It was an easy, yet quite impressive appetizer: our asses were quite inflated, girls wore tight pants leaving very few to the imagination and my skirt flew - showing off my white tangas. Soon boys we were full of excitement and impatience.

Yod and I staged a comic wrestling catfight: I pulled off her t-shirt, she tore my yellow blouse and threw it to the guards. A guy that caught it just said: "Uh oh," - and then started deflating. We scored two more dudes by stripping Samekh down to her black lacy bra and panties. A tall and brutally looking guard, who was an officer, judging by his insignia, was one of the victims - his higher rank didn't mean he had any extra willpower, just like the privates he sighed and started to hiss.

Only a dozen of guards still held. Apparently, they were slightly better at self control. Their lust was so intense and thick, that we could sense it in the air. Fortunately, they didn't try to rush to our improvised podium and touch us. I guess, that wasn't due to their manners, they simply didn't want to make a wrong move and deflate prematurely before we show em tits.

Samekh helped Yod out of her pants. I bent and swayed my bottom in the sexiest possible way, while getting rid of my skirt, yet remaining guards still held, though, tension was visible on their faces. I had to play trumps to finish them... While I though about it, Samekh stalked me from behind and undid the clasp of my bra making it flitter off my breasts like a white pigeon. It barely held, because my tits were so much overinflated and my shoulder straps were already undone, that's why my boobs catapulted the bra forward. This wasn't just hot, but also unexpected. A surprise factor distracted them for a second.

"Wow" - Exhaled a tall skinny boy, staring at my glorious boobs, and instantly started to hiss. Next was his neighbor to the left. Another boy, seemingly shy and young, joined them. And five seconds later a chain reaction started - all men hissed like a chorus.

I saw the expressions of their faces: a bliss, then surprise and finally a belated understanding and terror. Their panic was pretty short, as soon they became useless rubbery rugs on the floor.

We had no time to remove the bodies or to dress up. Konrad could call one of them any moment, take a look at the cameras and block the doors to his room. Samekh picked up her purse from the floor, took id card from the deflated officer and headed towards the secure door. We followed her.

Wittenberg was there. We saw him from the backside. I expected a youthful old man in an expensive suit with hair going noble gray. But of course Konrad rejuvenated when he left his old protein body behind couple years ago. He looked like a man in his thirties. When he turned towards us, I noted, that he was quite handsome, but we didn't waste any time checking his face out. Old scoundrel instantly got the situation and reached out for his desk drawer.

Time slowed down and flowed like a viscous jam. I saw Yod bending to reach her right shoe, where her ceramic knife was, but she was hopelessly late. Meanwhile Samekh rushed forward with an agility unexpected for an inflatable woman. She was faster than me, because of my inflated curves, the air drag slowed me down. After three leaps she threw herself at the traitor jumping over his desk. Right in time, as his fingers were already in the drawer, where she might keep his Bjarne or Dickson - these guns are designed to be lethal to pneumatics. Their expansive bullets not just puncture the skin, but tear it apart at supersonic speed, so the target bursts like an overinflated balloon.

Wittenberg and Samekh grappled and both fell on the carpet wrestling. She tried to seize his hands, but wasn't fast enough - I heard a hissing, that scumbag pulled her plug! No surprise here, she was practically nude and the valve was on her exposed navel. Still, she managed to win some precious seconds for us. When Wittenberg threw off her deflating body and tried to reach his drawer again, I was there to kick him right in his belly. I stopped him from getting the gun, but my blow was a glancing hit, so I lost my equilibrium and I fell. He immediately piled on me and pulled my plug. I saw his victorious face for a moment, then Wittenberg exploded with a thundering boom. Behind him was Yod wielding her Sirocco.

"You are right in time." - I said, plugging my valve.

"That's Samekh, who was in time. Otherwise we'd been dead already." - Yod looked at the helpless deflating blonde on the floor. She haven't much extra air to spare and she lost a lot of her strength wrestling, she grew weak quickly and didn't manage to plug herself. So our best operative was now in a shape of crumpled rubbery heap going flat as the last of her was leaking out.

"We underestimated that bastard. We had to take the knives out in advance." - I concluded.

"I think, that's because it was so easy before. Taking men down was such a piece of cake and we grew overconfident. " - said Yod.

Then we inflated Samek and Wittenberg-2. The latter looked just like the Wittenberg-1,but naked. For a moment I imagined deflating him again in a more intimate situation, but then I recalled the Greg, who was waiting me at the HQ. Guess, I was such an airhead to leave him deflated and go on a dangerous mission.

New Konrad quickly put on the suit of his prototype and was very cooperative, he helped us getting rid of the scraps remaining from the traitor, and inflating the guards. He scolded them, but then graciously agreed to forget the incident in exchange for them keeping their mouth shut about the visit of girls. Inflatable soldiers were more than happy with such a deal, because the punishment for their negligence and failure could be ultimate disposal.

Next day Wittenberg departed to Congress in a top security cortege of armored minivans. There he made his report, just as planned. He retold all the well known usual scares about our agency, no names, no facts. Nothing new. It sparkled a small, well managed media scandal, which posed no existential threat to our organization.

The same day Wittenberg resigned. That was very timely, because CIA guys were in rage, so Wittenberg had to leave the country and disappear as soon as possible. In who's purse and where was he smuggled - I don't have access level for this information. And actually I don't care.

I found out about all these events a bit later, because after the mission I took a day off, which I spent not letting my new boyfriend out of the bedroom. Of course, Greg was surprised when he was inflated in my place, not in the office. If he'd chickened out, I'd let him go back to mummy. Fortunately, he wasn't the one who runs away from his dream coming true.