I didn't know George C. Marshall was that charming.
[X]"Sirs, as you may have noticed, the proceedures my subordinates have been through have given them an... incapacitation aura that can disable the unprepared and those of weak will."
[X]"Sirs, as you may have noticed, the proceedures my subordinates have been through have given them an... incapacitation aura that can disable the unprepared and those of weak will."
[X]"Sirs, as you may have noticed, the proceedures my subordinates have been through have given them an... incapacitation aura that can disable the unprepared and those of weak will."
[X]"Sirs, as you may have noticed, the proceedures my subordinates have been through have given them an... incapacitation aura that can disable the unprepared and those of weak will."
So...is the art of the current chapter supposed to be of Marie?
[X]"Sirs, as you may have noticed, the proceedures my subordinates have been through have given them an... incapacitation aura that can disable the unprepared and those of weak will."
[X]"Sirs, as you may have noticed, the procedures my subordinates have been through have given them an... incapacitation aura that can disable the unprepared and those of weak will."
[X] "I'm afraid the program designers were more concerned with social infiltrator design than operative design, sometimes. As efficient as Delta- or SAS- training may be, it neglected that part of their skills rather heavily. This has resulted in many instances of, how shall we say, accidental discharge of psychological warfare techniques."
SHELBY YOU FUCKING CUNTBADGER CHECK YOUR GOD DAMNED BACKBLAST THIS ISN'T KINDERGARTEN ANYMORE.
H.U.S.B.A.N.D.O.S
- Hurting Ulcer Sore Begets Anal Nuclear Disaster Of Shit ... did I read this wrong?
EDIT:
[X]"Sirs, as you may have noticed, the procedures my subordinates have been through have given them an... incapacitation aura that can disable the unprepared and those of weak will."
Friday? Not even close. This is Sunday, you idiot.
Strype +7 shots of rum? Yeah, last night. Dumbass.
Update ready? As ready as it's getting.
Art!
=\\TACTICAL WAIFUS QUEST//= Part 92: Mission Briefing. No, Seriously.
+++
"Shelby..." you hissed through gritted teeth, glaring at the proper lady in her microscopic skirt. She was pressed against the wall like it was you in a bed full of rose petals, her gun held against the callus on the web of her hand and her beautiful hazel eyes scanning the perimeter like a living security camera. She didn't cease her surveillance for you, but a quick nod told you she was listening.
Right... How do you explain to the poor girl that she just knocked a trained Secret Service agent flat on his ass with nothing but a brief upskirt without breaking her? How could you explain to her that the never-sufficiently-damned idiot scientists who engineered her had managed to weaponize Dat Ass to the point she could accidentally use it as a non-lethal takedown move? She tried so, so hard to be a proper lady...
"What?" she muttered, cocking an eyebrow, eyes still scanning rapidly for the threat that surely must have been the cause.
Beside you, Riley stifled a snort. From where she was, lying draped over you like a throw rug that smelled of cinnamon and fresh-baked cookies, she could see right up Shelby's skirt. You could almost see the coral-blue stripes of Shelby's panties reflected in her gentle steel-gray eyes. You knew better than to try looking directly yourself right now.
You scowled and finally hit on a metaphor that wouldn't be too obvious to the higher-ups around you all. "Shelby! Backblast."
Shelby gave you a confused look. A moment later her cheeks turned redder than Riley's hair. You're pretty sure you could feel the radiating heat off her blush from where you were stuck on the floor. She hastily stood upright and tried to casually pull her tiny skirt lower over her bodaciously bombastic booty. It worked about as well as any attempt to conceal her ass did. Amazingly, even when doing that she kept her pistol trained away from friendlies.
"You have something to say, Major?" the SecDef asked with a degree of utter calm that would've chilled you to the bone if the last several months of your life hadn't been one unending nightmare of short skirts and brain-melting cute. That you still felt a shiver run up your spine was testament to just how terrifying the former-Marine could be. You'd heard rumors about him actually killing a butter bar with a single precise knife-hand, and you believed them.
And speaking of terrifying things, out of the corner of your eye you saw Riley mouth the word 'twins' and pat her slender belly. Great, now that idea's in her head.
"Uh," you gulped, trying to peel Riley off you without looking like you were just shoving her aside. False alarm or not, she did good diving on top of you to shield her with your body. You should remember to reward her for that later. You did have to ruthlessly quash a part of your brain taking that as leave to start making suggestions. "Yes, actually."
SecDef raised his eyebrows. Potus, who was being dusted off by a somewhat less-flustered Hannah, seemed to be enjoying the excitement. Well, he'd never been a Marine or anything. This was probably new to him.
"Well, sirs... I'm sure you're aware of the super-soldier program we ran a couple decades back?"
SecDef tilted his head. "These are the results?"
"Yes, sir," you said.
"Why," asked Potus, "Are they all girls?"
You coughed, shuffling your weight from one foot to the other. "Because... well... as far as we can tell, it's because the contractors who engineered them were perverts who couldn't talk to real women. So... they made some. Their concept of 'perfect'."
"It's true," said Riley, adjusting her thigh-highs to make sure the skindentation lined up just right. "We're soldiers, but--" she scooted close and put her arm around yours. You felt her hip bump against yours, her breast kiss your uniformed sleeve. The air smelled suddenly of Riley's sweet aroma. "--we were also designed with an eye towards pleasure."
You felt all the blood drain from your face and gulped. "Um... this... isn't what it looks like, sirs. I swear."
"Yeah," Riley hung her head. You could feel her start to vibrate next to you. Poor girl was flooding with adrenaline and clearly babbling with nerves. "You know he's never even seen me naked?"
Oh shit.
You could not stop the reflexive facepalm. You began to wonder if it was actually possible to die of sheer mortification as Riley... really veered off the rails for 'what is appropriate to talk about in front of the Secretary of Defense and the President... in the Oval Office.'
"Really?" Potus seemed to be enjoying this far too much. This time it wasn't him getting in trouble for foot-in-mouth disease.
"You're his commander in chief, right?" Riley's hips shifted questioningly. "Could you... maybe... order him to... um..." she trailed off.
You gave Potus a pleading look, but he just laughed. "Perhaps in time, Miss Sharpe. Right now we've got a mission your team is uniquely qualified for."
You let out a quiet sigh of relief as you and your girls were lead into the darkened Situation Room deep in the bowels of the White House. There were plenty of seats around the heavy wooden conference table, which made Marie's initial insistence that she had to sit on your lap easy to disprove. The girls did all end up squished next to you, each vying to have the most skin-to-Major contact. Except Hannah of course, she sat at the outside of the huddle, looking a little wistful. Right, you'd made her skip out on her date... you'd have to make that up to her eventually.
"This," said a junior officer giving the briefing, "Is Juan-Carlos Rico."
A picture flashed up of a short, gangling looking man in an olive officer's uniform that was both slightly too large and laden with more medals than actual uniform. Beside him was a towering woman with a rack that made Marie look flat as a pancake. But unlike Marie's chest, this woman's was... wrong. The more you looked at it, the more clearly inhuman such megaszied milktanks could be.
"Who's she?" asked Riley.
"One of his three amazonian guards," said the briefing officer. "Rico was installed by SCIMITAR as local governor of the southern Philippines three years ago, but these women only started showing up a few weeks ago."
You nodded. You hadn't noticed it before, what with the size of her chest drawing all your attention, but the woman by Rico's side had a MG3 resting butt-down on the ground by her side. She certainly looked big enough to fire it from the shoulder.
"Recently," said the officer. "One of his guards has disappeared, leaving him in a position of unparalleled vulnerability. We want to go in, grab whatever intel he's got on file, and if possible recover one of his guards."
"You think they've reverse engineered the tacfus?" you said.
The officer gave you an empty look.
"He means," explained Shelby, "That you think they've copied us."
"Oh, in that case, yes."
"So why us?" asked Riley. "I mean... Delta could do it, right?"
The officer went to another slide, showing one of the many islands in the Philippines archipelago. "The governor's palace is on a island. No one but Rico's personal staff is allowed to set foot, with one exception. Women... at least attractive women... are allowed and even encouraged to enjoy its beaches."
"Pervert," coughed Hannah.
You didn't feel like you had room to talk here.
"We'll need cute swimsuits," said Riley. "Boss?" She poked you in the side. "Boss, you need to take us shopping for cute swimsuits. Mission essential."
You declined to address just how deadly that would be to you and tried to focus on the rest of the briefing. It was mostly logistics stuff by that point, intel was build connections with the locals and formulating an approach plan, so you had a few days to do anything you needed to get done. And yes, that included letting Riley buy herself a new swimsuit. While you were along.
The briefing ended, and you managed to extract yourself and the girls without any further 'backblast' incidents or otherwise hideously embarrassing yourself in front of your boss and your boss's boss. The same limo you'd arrived in drove you and your girls to a nearby hotel for the night. You'd fly out in the morning and start getting prepared, but for the moment you were happy you'd survived showing your girls to Potus without being thrown in Leavenworth for the rest of known time, or somehow forcing the SecDef to demonstrate why he was once called 'Mad Dog' on you.
"Boss," Hannah cornered you, "We need to talk."
Fuck. "Yes?"
Wait... that was bad phrasing, in combination. Damn it.
Hannah crossed her arms, putting on a face like she was explaining the patently obvious. "You're gonna sleep with one of us tonight, right?"
"Uh..." Your brain had somehow carefully avoided thinking about that until now.
"Look," Hannah shook her head. "None of them will admit it, but we need affection to be at the top of our game." She crossed her arms. "Find someone and cuddle her tonight. Personally, I'd suggest Marie."
"You would?" you asked.
Hannah nodded. "She's too sweet to ever let you know, but trust me. That girl's feeling neglected as all hell."
You nodded. After that display on the flight over, you could almost see that.
"And mention her tits if you do," added Hannah. "Poor thing deserves a positive experience with them for once. Its not exactly a secret that she's got a bit of a complex about them, since everyone goes so far out of their way to not talk about them to her. I know they're trying to help, but I think it's cumulatively overcorrected the other way."
>Which tacfu invite to bed?
>Contemplate how the Fark your life ended up with this being your choices
>If no tacfu in bed, what do?
Adhoc vote count started by Strypgia on Sep 4, 2018 at 3:15 PM, finished with 18 posts and 10 votes.
[X] Cuddle Marie tonight.
-[X] Remind yourself that it is mission essential that the girls are all on their A game. This is for a good cause. Honest.
[X] You have two arms, and a lot of girls. Make a pile of parachutes on the floor of the plane or some shit and cuddle pile. Marie gets the spot of honor though.
-[X] Remind yourself that it is mission essential that the girls are all on their A game. This is for a good cause. Honest.
-[X] On the way out, light one up. If your back or the girls don't kill you by the time lung cancer sets in, those smarmy bastards can probably print you a new set.
[X] You have two arms, and a lot of girls. Make a pile of parachutes on the floor of the plane or some shit and cuddle pile. Marie gets the spot of honor though.
-[X] On the way out, light one up. If your back or the girls don't kill you by the time lung cancer sets in, those smarmy bastards can probably print you a new set.
[X] You have two arms, and a lot of girls. Make a pile of parachutes on the floor of the plane or some shit and cuddle pile. Marie gets the spot of honor though.
-[X] Remind yourself that it is mission essential that the girls are all on their A game. This is for a good cause. Honest.
[X] You have two arms, and a lot of girls. Make a pile of parachutes on the floor of the plane or some shit and cuddle pile. Marie gets the spot of honor though.
-[X] Remind yourself that it is mission essential that the girls are all on their A game. This is for a good cause. Honest.
-[X] On the way out, light one up. If your back or the girls don't kill you by the time lung cancer sets in, those smarmy bastards can probably print you a new set.
[X] You have two arms, and a lot of girls. Make a pile of parachutes on the floor of the plane or some shit and cuddle pile. Marie gets the spot of honor though.
-[X] On the way out, light one up. If your back or the girls don't kill you by the time lung cancer sets in, those smarmy bastards can probably print you a new set.
[X] You have two arms, and a lot of girls. Make a pile of parachutes on the floor of the plane or some shit and cuddle pile. Marie gets the spot of honor though.
-[X] Remind yourself that it is mission essential that the girls are all on their A game. This is for a good cause. Honest.
"It's true," said Riley, adjusting her thigh-highs to make sure the skindentation lined up just right. "We're soldiers, but--" she scooted close and put her arm around yours. You felt her hip bump against yours, her breast kiss your uniformed sleeve. The air smelled suddenly of Riley's sweet aroma. "--we were also designed with an eye towards pleasure."
You felt all the blood drain from your face and gulped. "Um... this... isn't what it looks like, sirs. I swear."
"Yeah," Riley hung her head. You could feel her start to vibrate next to you. Poor girl was flooding with adrenaline and clearly babbling with nerves. "You know he's never even seen me naked?"
You gave Potus a pleading look, but he just laughed. "Perhaps in time, Miss Sharpe. Right now we've got a mission your team is uniquely qualified for."
"We'll need cute swimsuits," said Riley. "Boss?" She poked you in the side. "Boss, you need to take us shopping for cute swimsuits. Mission essential."
"Shelby..." you hissed through gritted teeth, glaring at the proper lady in her microscopic skirt. She was pressed against the wall like it was you in a bed full of rose petals, her gun held against the callus on the web of her hand and her beautiful hazel eyes scanning the perimeter like a living security camera. She didn't cease her surveillance for you, but a quick nod told you she was listening.
Right... How do you explain to the poor girl that she just knocked a trained Secret Service agent flat on his ass with nothing but a brief upskirt without breaking her? How could you explain to her that the never-sufficiently-damned idiot scientists who engineered her had managed to weaponize Dat Ass to the point she could accidentally use it as a non-lethal takedown move? She tried so, so hard to be a proper lady...
You scowled and finally hit on a metaphor that wouldn't be too obvious to the higher-ups around you all. "Shelby! Backblast."
Shelby gave you a confused look. A moment later her cheeks turned redder than Riley's hair. You're pretty sure you could feel the radiating heat off her blush from where you were stuck on the floor. She hastily stood upright and tried to casually pull her tiny skirt lower over her bodaciously bombastic booty. It worked about as well as any attempt to conceal her ass did. Amazingly, even when doing that she kept her pistol trained away from friendlies.
"You have something to say, Major?" the SecDef asked with a degree of utter calm that would've chilled you to the bone if the last several months of your life hadn't been one unending nightmare of short skirts and brain-melting cute. That you still felt a shiver run up your spine was testament to just how terrifying the former-Marine could be. You'd heard rumors about him actually killing a butter bar with a single precise knife-hand, and you believed them.
"Uh," you gulped, trying to peel Riley off you without looking like you were just shoving her aside. False alarm or not, she did good diving on top of you to shield her with your body. You should remember to reward her for that later. You did have to ruthlessly quash a part of your brain taking that as leave to start making suggestions. "Yes, actually."
"Well, sirs... I'm sure you're aware of the super-soldier program we ran a couple decades back?"
SecDef tilted his head. "These are the results?"
"Yes, sir," you said.
"Why," asked Potus, "Are they all girls?"
You coughed, shuffling your weight from one foot to the other. "Because... well... as far as we can tell, it's because the contractors who engineered them were perverts who couldn't talk to real women. So... they made some. Their concept of 'perfect'."
"It's true," said Riley, adjusting her thigh-highs to make sure the skindentation lined up just right. "We're soldiers, but--" she scooted close and put her arm around yours. You felt her hip bump against yours, her breast kiss your uniformed sleeve. The air smelled suddenly of Riley's sweet aroma. "--we were also designed with an eye towards pleasure."
You felt all the blood drain from your face and gulped. "Um... this... isn't what it looks like, sirs. I swear."
"Yeah," Riley hung her head. You could feel her start to vibrate next to you. Poor girl was flooding with adrenaline and clearly babbling with nerves. "You know he's never even seen me naked?"
You could not stop the reflexive facepalm. You began to wonder if it was actually possible to die of sheer mortification as Riley... really veered off the rails for 'what is appropriate to talk about in front of the Secretary of Defense and the President... in the Oval Office.'
"Really?" Potus seemed to be enjoying this far too much. This time it wasn't him getting in trouble for foot-in-mouth disease.
"This," said a junior officer giving the briefing, "Is Juan-Carlos Rico."
A picture flashed up of a short, gangling looking man in an olive officer's uniform that was both slightly too large and laden with more medals than actual uniform. Beside him was a towering woman with a rack that made Marie look flat as a pancake. But unlike Marie's chest, this woman's was... wrong. The more you looked at it, the more clearly inhuman such megaszied milktanks could be.
"Who's she?" asked Riley.
"One of his three amazonian guards," said the briefing officer. "Rico was installed by SCIMITAR as local governor of the southern Philippines three years ago, but these women only started showing up a few weeks ago."
You nodded. You hadn't noticed it before, what with the size of her chest drawing all your attention, but the woman by Rico's side had a MG3 resting butt-down on the ground by her side. She certainly looked big enough to fire it from the shoulder.
"Recently," said the officer. "One of his guards has disappeared, leaving him in a position of unparalleled vulnerability. We want to go in, grab whatever intel he's got on file, and if possible recover one of his guards."
[X] You have two arms, and a lot of girls. Make a pile of parachutes on the floor of the plane or some shit and cuddle pile. Marie gets the spot of honor though.
-[X] On the way out, light one up. If your back or the girls don't kill you by the time lung cancer sets in, those smarmy bastards can probably print you a new set.
Hot damn, Boss. Was starting to think that this quest would never update ever again.
[X] You have two arms, and a lot of girls. Make a pile of parachutes on the floor of the plane or some shit and cuddle pile. Marie gets the spot of honor though.
-[X] Remind yourself that it is mission essential that the girls are all on their A game. This is for a good cause. Honest.
-[X] On the way out, light one up. If your back or the girls don't kill you by the time lung cancer sets in, those smarmy bastards can probably print you a new set.
[X] You have two arms, and a lot of girls. Make a pile of parachutes on the floor of the plane or some shit and cuddle pile. Marie gets the spot of honor though.
-[X] Remind yourself that it is mission essential that the girls are all on their A game. This is for a good cause. Honest.
-[X] On the way out, light one up. If your back or the girls don't kill you by the time lung cancer sets in, those smarmy bastards can probably print you a new set.
[X] You have two arms, and a lot of girls. Make a pile of parachutes on the floor of the plane or some shit and cuddle pile. Marie gets the spot of honor though.
-[X] Remind yourself that it is mission essential that the girls are all on their A game. This is for a good cause. Honest.
-[X] On the way out, light one up. If your back or the girls don't kill you by the time lung cancer sets in, those smarmy bastards can probably print you a new set.
