Aftershocks and fallout pt 1.

Tamara Wight trembled as she patched up Harper in the back of the speeding, bouncing 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 **** bid to escape with what little they had managed grab in the chaos.

Equipment jingled in the mountings on the walls as the vehicle mounted the pavement briefly and Tamara swore back at Lindsay, their get-away driver but she could hardly blame her. The whole op had been one great, terrifying disaster! She could recover from this though, she 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 her 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 drivers 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 this 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 young XXX-infected teen, her injured shin throbbed painfully in time with her racing heartbeat and she could feel slow flow of blood pooling in the heel of her boot. She had knocked it badly in her mad leap to escape and now she would be lucky if her leg bone wasn't fractured. How had this all gone so wrong?!

"He'll come for me, my big, strong DaddyMaster will come for me..." Harper let out a small animal whine 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 the fuck had been 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 quavering, muscular blonde squad-mate as she ripped the leg of her own camouflage pants open to inspect the damage on her right lower shin... yes, 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, 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 she squinted hard into the pain as she splashed the broken, inflamed flesh liberally with the **** solution, cleaning the wound before pulling out a large adhesive patch to cover it. She was working on autopilot though as her strategic mind raced, sorting though dozens of possible actions and their likely outcomes finding that few that appealed to her.

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 it!) and the two hostages needed for leverage against them to boot.

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

The clear and recent memory of the brief fight against him ran a freezing cold icicle of alarm 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 squads lethal, brutal strength 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 Him, he will come for me... and then you."

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

He 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 armed, elite Mammazon strike member as though she were a goddamn puppy and did it all without any sign of strain or effort. His movements had been all monstrous strength hidden away behind smoothest flowing grace and near superhuman speed, his stacked muscular form rivaling then exceeding her own when he had charged at her, shrugging off tasers, flash-bangs and even bean bag rounds fired close-range from a fucking shotgun... no woman could have expected to fight an impossible man like Him.

Tamara was surprised to find her hands were sliding over the tops of her bulging, thick 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 powerful fists and focused up...

Thankfully all of Beta Squad had radioed in fine if a somewhat banged up by some redheaded psycho but Jesus, 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, needed to think... was the prisoner staring back at her with a knowing little smirk on her 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 her as she navigated them down the dark suburban streets leading back towards the city center and safety, back in control at last, "You're going to have to update Mistress Sierra on our sit rep."

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 down play 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 her 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 are 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 go 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 girls no less. It was too much and then that roped up, high school bitch giggled... actually giggled all airy and light, like she was watching some delightful little comedy play out on stage in front of her.

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

"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 free hand. Her eyes bulging in a combination of both rage and fear, her softly 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 Base 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 **** 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 Mammazon's. 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 evade you? This is unacceptable-"

Each word was articulated with deepest loathing, punctuated with sneering disgust and even at this distance it clawed at the mighty brunettes very soul, Lindsay in the drivers seat had actually started to weep silently.

"Mistress please..." Tamara begged, forgetting all radio discipline and dropping the profession affectation to call Sierra what she really was, "Mistress, we tried but these- these males are different! They're infect... true 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 here. 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 it, 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 the air.

He. Will. Come. For. Me.