Tamara - The Case Of The (corrupted) Suits (8) (Patreon)

Tamara - The Case Of The Corrupted Suits - Chapter 2

(Damn! Where Is The Zipper? - Movimento 3)

Part 8

As soon as they landed at a municipal airport not too far away from the Imperial City, Tamara and Sam got off the plane and were met by two FMT field agents and a third one who liaised with the 'Special Information Bureau'. After exchanging greetings and introductions, and unloading their baggage, they all boarded a vehicle and drove directly into the city.

During the trip Sam, who had listened to the compliments their partners from that city made to Tamara, could not help but feel something akin to jealousy. Those men had praised Tamara's intellect very highly. But also, unprofessionally, her good looks. And what seemed to give him even more reason for his jealousy was that, for the first time, Tamara seemed to like the latter more than the former.

While Sam was dealing with his thoughts, the intelligence liaison officer was showing Tamara all the official documentation they needed for the investigation and was briefing Tamara on the incident. They had to hurry, agents of the new 'Homeland Security and Defense Agency', the already too well known militarized police of the 'National-Security-Wehr', NS Wehr for short, commanded by the infamous Marshall Adlas Borbetomagus, were already involved.

"Marshall Borbetomagus' dogs?" Sam asked in surprise.

That name had brought Sam out of his thoughts and made him interested in intelligence data for the first time in years.

"The same," his counterpart from the Imperial City answered. "Since they proposed him to be the 'Military High Commander' and 'Head of International Security for Presidents and State Representatives'. Your Agents . . ."

"Fucking dogs!" Sam interrupted, letting a heavy tone of contempt show through. "Those fucking dogs of prey. Real nasty blood hounds."

"I see you've already had the pleasure of working with them," his counterpart replied, "Have you noticed how they all have those yellow eyes? They're like. . . wolf eyes. I personally think they wear some kind of contact lenses, but who knows. . . our liaison partner here has other theories."

"The NS Wehr. . . " said Tamara interjecting. " wasn't it just a security agency dedicated to the pursuit of international criminals?"

"Not anymore," the Intelligence liaison officer intervened. Since the UN Organization accepted Marshal Borbetomagus' terms, NS Wehr has grown in competence, influence and authority. It is displacing, replacing or dissolving other operational agencies. So far, the Ministry of the Purge is the only organization that has not been intimidated by the. . . " the Intelligence liaison looked for a moment at his tablet and continued, "Eighth Erno."

"What a crappy agency, their ranks are recognised by numbers," the driver interjected.

"Maybe they're crappy when it comes to rank names, but if those 'dogs' have intervened, we should hurry," Sam said alarmed. "They won't leave us anything to investigate or work with."

After crossing half the city and arriving at a residential neighborhood on the south side of the river through the Imperial City, they had almost reached their destination. Only two hundred meters separated them from their goal. But their competition had arrived before them and had cordoned off the streets leading to the housing block. Unlike other agencies, the NS Wehr's deployment was not showy like that shown in a TV series or movie. There was no way around them however, this new agency proved to be efficient. Almost all the agents were escorted by a canid trained for combat situations with firearms, and well protected by a Kevlar carapace.

Tamara's and Sam's vehicle stopped a few meters away from where two NS Wehr agents stood. They were blocking the access to the street where the building, where Tamara and Sam had to investigate, was located.

"Shit!" Tamara's partner cursed, something that amused her.

"What quick bastards. They have already cordoned off the area, " said the liaison officer frustrated. "It would be a miracle if they let us in."

Tamara didn't know why, but she had noticed the growing anger in Sam, rising throughout that day, that made Sam silent, cautious, dangerous and maybe even lethal. She also didn't know why, but now more than ever, she felt that growing heat between her legs that created that butterfly sensation in her stomach. That cocktail, that spread in hot and cold waves at the same time, gave her goose bumps on the back of her neck, and she began to notice how her nipples were sinking into the latex of her new bodysuit.

Maybe it was because of that, but the hormones had drugged her mind again. Tamara took a document that the liaison officer had in his hand, and left the vehicle without saying a word about her intentions. Like an elegant and great Lady, she put both feet together on the ground, then advanced with a sure step, making her heels click on the asphalt. And without a second's hesitation, she turned to one of the two NS Wehr agents, and began to talk to the one who had the rank of Second.

"But. . . What the. . .?" Sam said, looking after her, about to open his door as well.

"Damn, that woman is impressive. You don't know how lucky you are to be able to work with agent Gimenez. . . " said the intelligence liaison officer. " Look at her, I bet you 100 € that she convinces the agent to let us pass that dog."

The man began rattling off a bunch of cases she had solved, criminals who were caught thanks to her help, and almost all of her successes in her career as a field consultant for the agency. Clearly, omitting the problems those successes produced in their relationship.

However Sam was unable to really listen to him, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was discovering Tamara for the first time. While he was looking at her, an old ABBA melody resounded in his head. A melody that, to him, always seemed sappy. And while he couldn't stop looking at her, everything around her was hidden behind a halo of light that Tamara gave off. The whole world went into slow motion.

For an instant, Sam saw her turn her head to the car. Her gaze was glued to where he was. Their gazes met, when suddenly a beautiful smile came to her lips and her face lit up. Then she closed her eyes as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and when she opened her eyes again, the first thing she seemed to look for was Sam's gaze. It was then that time sped up again, but Sam could swear, she winked at him.

Tamara felt like a naughty teenager. Even though the landing had interrupted her right at the height of her masturbation in the toilet, it only made her want to wear that garment throughout the investigation. She loved to feel whatever was moving inside the fabric. The slow stimulation, now, of the two dildos, which were only too noticeable every time she took a step.

She could feel how the suit had not stopped growing, turning more and more of her red stockings into part of the bodysuit. She loved how that garment squeezed her body, giving her a sensation. . . like those compression and massage stockings worn by many event hostesses or flight attendants. It felt tight but soft, gradually getting tighter, but more and more pleasurable. Not to say anything about the dildos, one getting deeper and wigglier. And the other filling her sex, like nothing had ever filled her before.

As she returned from talking to NS Wehr Agent, in Tamara's privileged mind, she couldn't help but feel satisfied with her success. She knew that what she had accomplished, would impress her 'slob' of a partner. This made her thoughts turn dirty, with images of her, hungry for pleasure, covered entirely in latex, turned into just another victim and treated as a threat.

With every step she took and every sensual sound of her heels against the asphalt, her imagination became more vivid. She saw herself sealed inside a latex fullsuit, her face totally covered and unrecognizable, only her swollen lips would be visible. The desire to be like those girls. . . a feminine figure, total sexuality, with an enviable physique, but with no eyes, no nose, no ears. Doomed forever, with no chance of ever being able to take off her suit, and unable to help wanting the fat, long 'little' Sam inside her. Grunting as he did not desist from impaling her with all the brute force he had demonstrated more than a thousand times. Making the latex fill her all the way up and even further than possible.

to be continued. . .