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I was the last to enter the briefing room and stumbled upon Lamed’s gaze. She is our coordinator, usually this woman is so optimistic and ever-ironic, but this time she was dead serious. I could read tension in here eyes. Yod had such an uneasy face expression. Samekh just looked grim like a cloud bearing thunderstorm, though that was nothing new - she just has a bitch face. Agent Vav concentrated at some invisible point at the opposite wall and thought.
“Take a seat, Dalet. We haven’t got much time” - said Lamed strictly.

Yeah, you got it right. Our callsigns are Hebrew letters. Latin and Greek ones are so much a cliche overused by Hollywood. Cyrillic option was promptly refused, when none of us agreed to be called agent Scsh. Hebrew is just great. Also you can joke about Zionist Occupation Government, masons and Illuminati, so when someone would start talking about top-secret jews right under the government’s nose, he’ll go straight into the asylum or at least told to wear a tinfoil cap.

“After Kaf got compromised at Taiwan, we suspected, that there is a rat within our ranks. We started to shadow and collect information about everyone, who had access to the files, and methodically narrowed the circle. This way we found, that Wittenberg requested sensitive documents about our ops abroad during the last five years to date. And tomorrow, at 1 pm, he’s going to make a presentation for the Congress. That son of a bitch is paranoid as hell, yet he made a mistake. We collected enough information and are absolutely sure - he’s about to present them all of our little dirty secrets. You all know too well, that under certain circumstances our operatives have to resort to extreme measures. When lives are at stake, fuck rules and bureaucracy.” - said Lamed.

“And you always covered our asses.” - added Yod. Lamed just nodded - “Now Agency needs you to cover itself.”
“But if we kill him now ...” - said Vav.
“We’ll screw things completely.” - Lamed finished it for him. - “His death means we just put a signature under his ravings.”
“So what? Can we apply some pressure at him? I’m sure we have enough compromising shit on Wittenberg.” - proposed Samekh.
“We have compromising materials indeed, but the CIA has it too, and that is a problem. They are practically holding Konrad’s balls.” - answered Lamed - “The only option we have is to make a swap. We had some luck for a change: Wittenberg backed himself up recently. Of course, he didn’t announce it, but our tech guys were after him by that time, so we obtained a key easily. Now we have a clone of Konrad, our psychos take care of him” (comments by Dalet: Psychos, are the department of psychological methods. Terrifyingly capable guys, I must admit.)
Samekh said: “This is a gamechanger! But how do we swap them? It is still a very complex operation and we only have a few hours at best to pull it off. Do we even know where Konrad is now?”

“At the Alistair. He and his guards are occupying the western wing of the seventh floor. Guys are from the 35th guardian regiment.” - informed Lamed
“All of them are pneumatics, aren’t they?” - Yod asked.
“Sure. We did make them, you know.” - Lamed confirmed grimly.

Civilians often think, that pneumatic people, or for short - pneumatics, are some kind of harmless balloon-folk. Retrogrades are still hiring bodyguards of flesh and bones. But that doesn’t make any sense! Protein bodies often want to sleep, smoke, eat and then go to the bathroom. But what is even worse, they want to live so much! An Inflatable soldier knows, that if he dies while defending his objective, his yesterday’s copy will be incarnated and promoted. Not exactly like Valhalla, but also motivating. On the other hand, he also knows that if he survives at the cost of failing his mission, his game is officially over and he can expect no mercy. Of course, pneumatics suck at martial arts and are useless in hand-to-hand combat without a gun or at least a knife, but that’s nothing significant. By the way, there is one more important detail. You can kill a protein dude with a silenced shot, for example. It is much harder to get rid of an inflatable guy without causing much noise. He either bursts deafeningly, or will slowly deflate with enough time to raise an alarm and warn others.

“So, forcing our way in is not an option. We have to take him out without much fuss, but the Alistair is a freaking fortress. Bulletproof glass, steel doors, surveillance and grates in the vents.” - stated Samekh.

“Just don’t panic. So we enter deflated, we exit the same way. We just need an inside guy in their staff.” - proposed Vav.

“I wish we had a week, we could hook a maid, janitor or a plumber. But we don't have this time.” - cut off Lamed. - “Go on, brainstorm, I need crazy ideas. All the normal ones are already considered and rejected.”

We exchanged worried looks.

“What if we kidnap him on his way to the Congress? Let’s swap his car. Just put the clone in the new one.” - I proposed.

“We don’t know which car he’ll be in. It is highly likely, that tomorrow, Senator Kingsley is going there to pick him up personally, or it will be some CIA guy. And of course they will be still guarded on their way.” - said Lamed

“Then let’s make a false fire alarm. Lure him out.” - proposed Vav.

“Wittenberg is a scumbag, but he’s smart enough. He knows, that we know, that he knows and that’s exactly why he locked himself in that safe. However, if you know any good reason that would make him come out - please tell.” - said Lamed.
“What kind of material do they have on Konrad? Can we take him off the hook?” - Yod tried another direction.

Lamed frowned: “Konrad used to be into kids. And got caught.”

“How then we take of the hook our clone? They are going to expose their materials if he backs down.” - asked I.

“That’s a less urgent problem. We shall rehabilitate him somehow, after all that was before he transitioned himself to pneumatic, now he’s different and not dangerous. Of course, it is still a shame, but he isn’t going to jail. As for public humiliation and tainted reputation - he deserves them completely.”

“So. What weak spots does he have?” - I asked.

“He’s a chauvinist pig and womanizer.”

“Does he call girl often?”

“Used to, but not now. If he calls any, we’d know instantly. Wittenberg is hiding and leading a righteous life for two weeks.” - said Lamed.

“Okay, he didn’t call any girls, but his guards may not know that. They should be used to these fairies going back and forth to his room.” - I exclaimed - “Not that I wish to play a prostitute.”

Yod snorted dismissively, yet Lamed was interested - “That’s better than nothing.”

“By the way, you said he’s a chauvinist. What exactly does it means in case of Wittenberg?” - asked Vav.

“He’s a homophobe, misogynist and racist. Jerks starter package in other words.” - said Lamed.

“That’s good!” - Samekh lightened up - “Well, of course, it is bad, but it is good for us. I have a really crazy idea now. So his guards are hetero males only, am I right? Because he can cherry pick them according to their dossiers.” - she went on.

“Probably so, but we must check it.” - Lamed was intrigued - “Do you intend to seduce his toy soldiers to get inside? They won’t let you in without direct order.”

“No, I don’t plan to ask them politely. They are mere infantry, lowest element of food chain, they haven’t been with a woman for all their sorry life. So they are extremely hungry...” - Samekh explained.

“How does it help our cause?” - Lamed shrugged skeptically - “Do you want to be gang raped by them?”

“Why? She may have a point, at least I got. Samekh implies that these brave warriors are going to kinda self-destruct in presence of charming ladies.” - by the end of this tirade I giggled like a schoolgirl, telling a smutty joke.

Samekh continued: “A funny situation happened to me and my James recently. He’s a good and fair fellow. He never does naughty things, when I have to leave him and go to business trips. So he waits for me. Once, after the mission at Zagreb I invited him to my place, dressed hot for him and overdid it. When he opened the door and saw me, he deflated right there on the threshold, holding flowers in his hand. Just two weeks of male chastity and such a spectacular result.”

We all looked at Vav, the only guy in the briefing room, waiting for his comments.

“Yes. Sometimes it happens.” - he confirmed briefly.

I thought then: “Is he really so shy about it? He is an adult man, professional, he has been to so many dangerous affairs. And now he’s like a teenage boy caught with his hand under blanket. That’s funny.”

“How often. Is there a chance to weaponize this, as Samekh implies? This idea is so weird, but that’s best one we have so far. We have to grasp at straw. If you think that’s not reliable and guards will not fall for that trick, say it now.” - said Lamed.

Vav thought for half a minute, than said: “Yes, this can work. If they haven’t been laid for a long time, are relaxed and feel no imminent threat - they’ll have no chance to resist.”

“Too many ifs” - grumbled Lamed - “I wait better ideas. Anyone has something else to say?”

None of us had.

“Then so be it. We take Samekh’s idea. She’s author and thus I appoint her as a volunteer for this mission. Yod, Dalet, you can pass. For obvious reasons Vav is not going with you beyond the parking lot.”

“I’m game.”

“What about you, Yod?”

“Did I ever chicken out? Of course I go to.” - said she.

“Marvelous. Then we need a few guy from tech team. To do some checking of the dossiers of the biological prototypes of the Wittenbers guards. Also we need some lab rats to test your weapons on. Sexual bombs testing site.” - Lamed chuckled - “As for you, girls, scoot to the minus third floor and pick yourself some equipment. Just don’t spend too much time in front of a mirror. I give you thirty minutes for your image-changing. Vav, please stay here. I guess your intimate life is okay, am I right? So their charms shouldn’t affect you, that’s good, because we need a control group for our experiment.”

Samekh, Yod and I went to the lifts. Girls at the store room started to disguise us with all the possible enthusiasm, I bet this task was so much different from their usual day to day routines.

Of all our trio only I really look like a girl of semitic origin. I have curly shoulder long raven hair, brown eyes, somewhat longish nose, but guys usually overlook this minor flaw, because I have D cup when inflated to the bare minimum volume. Nowadays inflatable girls, like myself, hardly can impress someone with just curves, however it’s not that easy to pump a petite girl into curvy bombshell. Of course breast and butt would grow a bit due to over-pumping, but if you are too persistent, you are going to just ruin your figure and blow up like a round ball. Also, such tricks are very detriment to our skin.

Credits for my image renewal goes to Beatrice and Sheila. They went for brute-force efficiency rather then some more subtle and creative approach and just inflated me first, using my natural advantages to the fullest. For my extreme curves they found white tangas, bra and stockings, and upon that sunny yellow skirt and blouse. Skirt was pretty short - above the knee, it hugged my rear tightly, but was more loose downwards. Blouse had buttons, and I didn’t even try to button up two upmost - not a chance. My tummy was exposed, allowing my airplug to be visible in the most provocative way. I looked outright silly bimbo and would never go outdoors wearing such an outfit, but for the success of our mission that could actually be perfect. Looking stupid is a perfect antipode of looking dangerous. As Vav said, this works better, when target is relaxed and his sense of vigilance is deafened.

Yod and Samekh got great restyling too. All three turned out to be completely different, covering various tastes and sorts of wild dreams men have about women.
Yod is swarthy latina girl, she was inflated too, but not as much as me. Her ass clad in stretch sport pants was a thing. Sketchers and a tight t-shirt completed her image.
As to Samekh, she is a tall slender blonde, not busty at all, but her size fits her well. She had on a pair of high boots and a mini vest upon a latex top. Of course this depends on tastes, yet for some men this is a killer combo.

“Now what? Time to go, our thirty minutes are up.” - said Samekh.

“Did you put that things, when your James deflated from just your sight?” - I asked her, on the way to the lifts.

She nodded.

“So that’s what kind of relationships you have...” - I grinned.

“Do you have something against that kind of relationships?” - she asked somewhat defensively.

“Nothing at all, I’m just curious.”

Samekh didn’t answer, but a faint smile appeared on the tips of her lips.

From the lift doors, to the left, down the corridor and through the open space were went back to the briefing room, clicking the floor with our high heels. People around us forgot their work and stared. In the sudden silence we almost could hear the sounds of dropping jaws.

Vav whistled, when we entered and sat at our seats. Three tech guys that were left hand from Lamed gazed at us gaping their mouths open. I knew two of them, Steve and Greg, they are brothers, they are blond and both are kind of cute, but too shy and reserved. When I caught Gregs sight, staring at my bust, he hastily switched back to his notebook. Steve casted glances at Samekh, Yod was targeted by the third one that was a bulky red headed dude wearing crumpled plaid shirt. So the game was distributed among hunters.

“Gentlemen, tell our agents about your findings.” - ordered Lamed.
Steve turned his laptop so we could see the screen and typed some commands into console. Black screen was immediately filled with rows of numbers and names.

“Wittenberg doesn’t report us, which guys he picked. But we can have a very good guess based on the list of those, who’s backups he updated recently.” - Explained Steve.
“Go on.” - Samekh cheered him up with her charming contralto, making tech guy blossom with a smile.
“So ...” - he redirected output of the previous command and made a query, - “Here are the dossiers of these dudes. Well, more precisely their flesh and bone prototypes.”

A large table appeared on the screen.

“Now show two columns: their names and sexual orientation” - two last words she stretched as if rolling the vowels at the tip of her tongue as menthol candies.

“May ask a question, agent.” - exhaled Steve, doing his best keeping his eyes at the laptop.

“Yes, you may.”

“Why are we digging under director Wittenberg and why we need information about, well, their bedroom preferences?”

“And this, lieutenant,” - Samekh leaned forward, so her face got right next to Steve - “is a secret information.”

Samekh pressed her index finger against her sensual lips and said: “Shhhh”

Steve backed from her, leaning against the back of his chair and inhaled. Then I heard another “shhhh”. But this time hissing went from Steve and it was way louder. There was a blissful smile on his lips, at first he didn’t even realize what’s happening.

It was so unexpectedly easy. I expected more effort on our side, like performing a strip-tease show for the nerds, but Samekh made it with just words, body language and some basic flirting. After this impressive demonstration of charms she scored a first point. 1:0:0. Now we had to catch up his her.

“Oh, my apologies.” - Steve woke up to the reality, was deeply embarrassed and would have blushed if he still could, inflatable bodies just don’t do it.
He already started sliding down on the seat, sliding over the back of his chair.

“No problems, Steve, everything is normal. Just relax.” - Samekh calmed him somewhat, though she couldn’t help smiling victoriously.

Two remaining nerds watched at their deflating friend with astonishment. We had to act quickly before boys get really afraid and defensive.

Yod got up and approached that red bulky guy, pushed Steves laptop to him and landed her gorgeous ass clad in tight pants onto the glass table. - “Dave, now show me the results. Steve haven’t time to finish his report.” - Yod was also quite good at speaking seductively, though her voice wasn’t as deep and lacked imperative notes that Samekh has.

Though, I had my own goal, so I concentrated on Greg. I approached him swaying my inflated hips and stood nearby, treading on the arms of the chair, where his brother still was deflating.

“Hi.” - I added a sweet smile to the simple greating, - “You two are brothers, aren't you? Can you tell me, does he have a girlfriend?”

“No. He doesn't. He sort of avoids women.” - said Greg.

“But why? We are good.” - I asked, still smiling and playing with my black locs. He was already very confused and didn't even try to maintain eye contact, openly staring into my cleavage, which was right in front of his face.

“You are very beautiful... Out of my and my brothers league for sure.”

“Why do you think so? Do you mean that you are single too, like your brother? Can I ask you a personal question then?

He nodded.

I lean to his ear closing the distance even more and whispered: “When was the last time you had sex?”

“Lo-Long ago”

“No worries, I won't tell anyone.” - I winked.

“Two months ago.”

“That's strange, because you are cute.”

Finally there was a familiar hissing sound and I felt a jet of his leaking air gently caressing my tummy.

“Ouch, I couldn't resist it too, sorry.” - apologized Greg.
“No worries, you did nothing bad” - I stroke his hair in the most tender way.

Red dude also started to deflate, judging by yet another hissing sound. So S bomb testing passed successfully, all three objectives met, and thus I could open my cards to him.

“Greg, actually you held valiantly against my charms, because I played so straightforward and dirty... I should apologize, but we really had to test it on someone unwitting, that's important for our mission.

“I don’t mind.” - Greg smiled blissfully, as his body slowly sagged in the chair next to me. - “I really liked that. But wait, do you really plan to trick Wittenberg’s guards the same way? And that’s why you checked to make sure they are into girls ...”

“I like that you like it. You are smart boy, Greg. Yes, that’s our idea.”

“Ouch. So now I know top secret information?” - he did his best to chuckle, which wasn’t so easy, when his face started to sink down into collar of his shirt.

“Indeed. You know too much now.” - I grinned - “But you ain’t going to tell anyone, soon you’ll de deflated.”

For a few seconds he was genuinely afraid: “S-Seriously?

“We shall inflate you, when our mission is over. Hm, how about I personally look after that?” - I cooed.

“That would be wonderful!”

“Of course it will be. Now stay here boy and don’t walk away” - I gave his nose a poke, - “I have yet another issue to solve.”

I left Greg to finish his deflation and turned my attention to Samekh, who just sat next to Vav. We didn’t plan that initially, but she clearly intended to win our informal competition scoring 2:1:1. Okay, challenge accepted.
I went towards them passing by Lamed. Miss Coordinator watched all this mess silently and didn’t intervene to stop us.

“I really don’t understand, what am I doing here? I’m not going on this mission, your magic doesn’t work on me, as you see. Should I just sit here and watch you deflating these pups?” - Vav said.

“Why are you so sure, it doesn’t work on you?” - teased Samekh.

Vav looked calm and confident indeed. He has short dark hair, straight nose, he looked cool and unstirred, yet his lips were pursed - a good sign of suppressed emotions. So, where Samekh failed, maybe I should win.

“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

Description
I was the last to enter the briefing room and stumbled upon Lamed’s gaze. She is our coordinator, usually this woman is so optimistic and ever-ironic, but this time she was dead serious. I could read tension in here eyes. Yod had such an uneasy face expression. Samekh just looked grim like a cloud bearing thunderstorm, though that was nothing new - she just has a bitch face. Agent Vav concentrated at some invisible point at the opposite wall and thought.
“Take a seat, Dalet. We haven’t got much time” - said Lamed strictly.

Yeah, you got it right. Our callsigns are Hebrew letters. Latin and Greek ones are so much a cliche overused by Hollywood. Cyrillic option was promptly refused, when none of us agreed to be called agent Scsh. Hebrew is just great. Also you can joke about Zionist Occupation Government, masons and Illuminati, so when someone would start talking about top-secret jews right under the government’s nose, he’ll go straight into the asylum or at least told to wear a tinfoil cap.

“After Kaf got compromised at Taiwan, we suspected, that there is a rat within our ranks. We started to shadow and collect information about everyone, who had access to the files, and methodically narrowed the circle. This way we found, that Wittenberg requested sensitive documents about our ops abroad during the last five years to date. And tomorrow, at 1 pm, he’s going to make a presentation for the Congress. That son of a bitch is paranoid as hell, yet he made a mistake. We collected enough information and are absolutely sure - he’s about to present them all of our little dirty secrets. You all know too well, that under certain circumstances our operatives have to resort to extreme measures. When lives are at stake, fuck rules and bureaucracy.” - said Lamed.

“And you always covered our asses.” - added Yod. Lamed just nodded - “Now Agency needs you to cover itself.”
“But if we kill him now ...” - said Vav.
“We’ll screw things completely.” - Lamed finished it for him. - “His death means we just put a signature under his ravings.”
“So what? Can we apply some pressure at him? I’m sure we have enough compromising shit on Wittenberg.” - proposed Samekh.
“We have compromising materials indeed, but the CIA has it too, and that is a problem. They are practically holding Konrad’s balls.” - answered Lamed - “The only option we have is to make a swap. We had some luck for a change: Wittenberg backed himself up recently. Of course, he didn’t announce it, but our tech guys were after him by that time, so we obtained a key easily. Now we have a clone of Konrad, our psychos take care of him” (comments by Dalet: Psychos, are the department of psychological methods. Terrifyingly capable guys, I must admit.)
Samekh said: “This is a gamechanger! But how do we swap them? It is still a very complex operation and we only have a few hours at best to pull it off. Do we even know where Konrad is now?”

“At the Alistair. He and his guards are occupying the western wing of the seventh floor. Guys are from the 35th guardian regiment.” - informed Lamed
“All of them are pneumatics, aren’t they?” - Yod asked.
“Sure. We did make them, you know.” - Lamed confirmed grimly.

Civilians often think, that pneumatic people, or for short - pneumatics, are some kind of harmless balloon-folk. Retrogrades are still hiring bodyguards of flesh and bones. But that doesn’t make any sense! Protein bodies often want to sleep, smoke, eat and then go to the bathroom. But what is even worse, they want to live so much! An Inflatable soldier knows, that if he dies while defending his objective, his yesterday’s copy will be incarnated and promoted. Not exactly like Valhalla, but also motivating. On the other hand, he also knows that if he survives at the cost of failing his mission, his game is officially over and he can expect no mercy. Of course, pneumatics suck at martial arts and are useless in hand-to-hand combat without a gun or at least a knife, but that’s nothing significant. By the way, there is one more important detail. You can kill a protein dude with a silenced shot, for example. It is much harder to get rid of an inflatable guy without causing much noise. He either bursts deafeningly, or will slowly deflate with enough time to raise an alarm and warn others.

“So, forcing our way in is not an option. We have to take him out without much fuss, but the Alistair is a freaking fortress. Bulletproof glass, steel doors, surveillance and grates in the vents.” - stated Samekh.

“Just don’t panic. So we enter deflated, we exit the same way. We just need an inside guy in their staff.” - proposed Vav.

“I wish we had a week, we could hook a maid, janitor or a plumber. But we don't have this time.” - cut off Lamed. - “Go on, brainstorm, I need crazy ideas. All the normal ones are already considered and rejected.”

We exchanged worried looks.

“What if we kidnap him on his way to the Congress? Let’s swap his car. Just put the clone in the new one.” - I proposed.

“We don’t know which car he’ll be in. It is highly likely, that tomorrow, Senator Kingsley is going there to pick him up personally, or it will be some CIA guy. And of course they will be still guarded on their way.” - said Lamed

“Then let’s make a false fire alarm. Lure him out.” - proposed Vav.

“Wittenberg is a scumbag, but he’s smart enough. He knows, that we know, that he knows and that’s exactly why he locked himself in that safe. However, if you know any good reason that would make him come out - please tell.” - said Lamed.
“What kind of material do they have on Konrad? Can we take him off the hook?” - Yod tried another direction.

Lamed frowned: “Konrad used to be into kids. And got caught.”

“How then we take of the hook our clone? They are going to expose their materials if he backs down.” - asked I.

“That’s a less urgent problem. We shall rehabilitate him somehow, after all that was before he transitioned himself to pneumatic, now he’s different and not dangerous. Of course, it is still a shame, but he isn’t going to jail. As for public humiliation and tainted reputation - he deserves them completely.”

“So. What weak spots does he have?” - I asked.

“He’s a chauvinist pig and womanizer.”

“Does he call girl often?”

“Used to, but not now. If he calls any, we’d know instantly. Wittenberg is hiding and leading a righteous life for two weeks.” - said Lamed.

“Okay, he didn’t call any girls, but his guards may not know that. They should be used to these fairies going back and forth to his room.” - I exclaimed - “Not that I wish to play a prostitute.”

Yod snorted dismissively, yet Lamed was interested - “That’s better than nothing.”

“By the way, you said he’s a chauvinist. What exactly does it means in case of Wittenberg?” - asked Vav.

“He’s a homophobe, misogynist and racist. Jerks starter package in other words.” - said Lamed.

“That’s good!” - Samekh lightened up - “Well, of course, it is bad, but it is good for us. I have a really crazy idea now. So his guards are hetero males only, am I right? Because he can cherry pick them according to their dossiers.” - she went on.

“Probably so, but we must check it.” - Lamed was intrigued - “Do you intend to seduce his toy soldiers to get inside? They won’t let you in without direct order.”

“No, I don’t plan to ask them politely. They are mere infantry, lowest element of food chain, they haven’t been with a woman for all their sorry life. So they are extremely hungry...” - Samekh explained.

“How does it help our cause?” - Lamed shrugged skeptically - “Do you want to be gang raped by them?”

“Why? She may have a point, at least I got. Samekh implies that these brave warriors are going to kinda self-destruct in presence of charming ladies.” - by the end of this tirade I giggled like a schoolgirl, telling a smutty joke.

Samekh continued: “A funny situation happened to me and my James recently. He’s a good and fair fellow. He never does naughty things, when I have to leave him and go to business trips. So he waits for me. Once, after the mission at Zagreb I invited him to my place, dressed hot for him and overdid it. When he opened the door and saw me, he deflated right there on the threshold, holding flowers in his hand. Just two weeks of male chastity and such a spectacular result.”

We all looked at Vav, the only guy in the briefing room, waiting for his comments.

“Yes. Sometimes it happens.” - he confirmed briefly.

I thought then: “Is he really so shy about it? He is an adult man, professional, he has been to so many dangerous affairs. And now he’s like a teenage boy caught with his hand under blanket. That’s funny.”

“How often. Is there a chance to weaponize this, as Samekh implies? This idea is so weird, but that’s best one we have so far. We have to grasp at straw. If you think that’s not reliable and guards will not fall for that trick, say it now.” - said Lamed.

Vav thought for half a minute, than said: “Yes, this can work. If they haven’t been laid for a long time, are relaxed and feel no imminent threat - they’ll have no chance to resist.”

“Too many ifs” - grumbled Lamed - “I wait better ideas. Anyone has something else to say?”

None of us had.

“Then so be it. We take Samekh’s idea. She’s author and thus I appoint her as a volunteer for this mission. Yod, Dalet, you can pass. For obvious reasons Vav is not going with you beyond the parking lot.”

“I’m game.”

“What about you, Yod?”

“Did I ever chicken out? Of course I go to.” - said she.

“Marvelous. Then we need a few guy from tech team. To do some checking of the dossiers of the biological prototypes of the Wittenbers guards. Also we need some lab rats to test your weapons on. Sexual bombs testing site.” - Lamed chuckled - “As for you, girls, scoot to the minus third floor and pick yourself some equipment. Just don’t spend too much time in front of a mirror. I give you thirty minutes for your image-changing. Vav, please stay here. I guess your intimate life is okay, am I right? So their charms shouldn’t affect you, that’s good, because we need a control group for our experiment.”

Samekh, Yod and I went to the lifts. Girls at the store room started to disguise us with all the possible enthusiasm, I bet this task was so much different from their usual day to day routines.

Of all our trio only I really look like a girl of semitic origin. I have curly shoulder long raven hair, brown eyes, somewhat longish nose, but guys usually overlook this minor flaw, because I have D cup when inflated to the bare minimum volume. Nowadays inflatable girls, like myself, hardly can impress someone with just curves, however it’s not that easy to pump a petite girl into curvy bombshell. Of course breast and butt would grow a bit due to over-pumping, but if you are too persistent, you are going to just ruin your figure and blow up like a round ball. Also, such tricks are very detriment to our skin.

Credits for my image renewal goes to Beatrice and Sheila. They went for brute-force efficiency rather then some more subtle and creative approach and just inflated me first, using my natural advantages to the fullest. For my extreme curves they found white tangas, bra and stockings, and upon that sunny yellow skirt and blouse. Skirt was pretty short - above the knee, it hugged my rear tightly, but was more loose downwards. Blouse had buttons, and I didn’t even try to button up two upmost - not a chance. My tummy was exposed, allowing my airplug to be visible in the most provocative way. I looked outright silly bimbo and would never go outdoors wearing such an outfit, but for the success of our mission that could actually be perfect. Looking stupid is a perfect antipode of looking dangerous. As Vav said, this works better, when target is relaxed and his sense of vigilance is deafened.

Yod and Samekh got great restyling too. All three turned out to be completely different, covering various tastes and sorts of wild dreams men have about women.
Yod is swarthy latina girl, she was inflated too, but not as much as me. Her ass clad in stretch sport pants was a thing. Sketchers and a tight t-shirt completed her image.
As to Samekh, she is a tall slender blonde, not busty at all, but her size fits her well. She had on a pair of high boots and a mini vest upon a latex top. Of course this depends on tastes, yet for some men this is a killer combo.

“Now what? Time to go, our thirty minutes are up.” - said Samekh.

“Did you put that things, when your James deflated from just your sight?” - I asked her, on the way to the lifts.

She nodded.

“So that’s what kind of relationships you have...” - I grinned.

“Do you have something against that kind of relationships?” - she asked somewhat defensively.

“Nothing at all, I’m just curious.”

Samekh didn’t answer, but a faint smile appeared on the tips of her lips.

From the lift doors, to the left, down the corridor and through the open space were went back to the briefing room, clicking the floor with our high heels. People around us forgot their work and stared. In the sudden silence we almost could hear the sounds of dropping jaws.

Vav whistled, when we entered and sat at our seats. Three tech guys that were left hand from Lamed gazed at us gaping their mouths open. I knew two of them, Steve and Greg, they are brothers, they are blond and both are kind of cute, but too shy and reserved. When I caught Gregs sight, staring at my bust, he hastily switched back to his notebook. Steve casted glances at Samekh, Yod was targeted by the third one that was a bulky red headed dude wearing crumpled plaid shirt. So the game was distributed among hunters.

“Gentlemen, tell our agents about your findings.” - ordered Lamed.
Steve turned his laptop so we could see the screen and typed some commands into console. Black screen was immediately filled with rows of numbers and names.

“Wittenberg doesn’t report us, which guys he picked. But we can have a very good guess based on the list of those, who’s backups he updated recently.” - Explained Steve.
“Go on.” - Samekh cheered him up with her charming contralto, making tech guy blossom with a smile.
“So ...” - he redirected output of the previous command and made a query, - “Here are the dossiers of these dudes. Well, more precisely their flesh and bone prototypes.”

A large table appeared on the screen.

“Now show two columns: their names and sexual orientation” - two last words she stretched as if rolling the vowels at the tip of her tongue as menthol candies.

“May ask a question, agent.” - exhaled Steve, doing his best keeping his eyes at the laptop.

“Yes, you may.”

“Why are we digging under director Wittenberg and why we need information about, well, their bedroom preferences?”

“And this, lieutenant,” - Samekh leaned forward, so her face got right next to Steve - “is a secret information.”

Samekh pressed her index finger against her sensual lips and said: “Shhhh”

Steve backed from her, leaning against the back of his chair and inhaled. Then I heard another “shhhh”. But this time hissing went from Steve and it was way louder. There was a blissful smile on his lips, at first he didn’t even realize what’s happening.

It was so unexpectedly easy. I expected more effort on our side, like performing a strip-tease show for the nerds, but Samekh made it with just words, body language and some basic flirting. After this impressive demonstration of charms she scored a first point. 1:0:0. Now we had to catch up his her.

“Oh, my apologies.” - Steve woke up to the reality, was deeply embarrassed and would have blushed if he still could, inflatable bodies just don’t do it.
He already started sliding down on the seat, sliding over the back of his chair.

“No problems, Steve, everything is normal. Just relax.” - Samekh calmed him somewhat, though she couldn’t help smiling victoriously.

Two remaining nerds watched at their deflating friend with astonishment. We had to act quickly before boys get really afraid and defensive.

Yod got up and approached that red bulky guy, pushed Steves laptop to him and landed her gorgeous ass clad in tight pants onto the glass table. - “Dave, now show me the results. Steve haven’t time to finish his report.” - Yod was also quite good at speaking seductively, though her voice wasn’t as deep and lacked imperative notes that Samekh has.

Though, I had my own goal, so I concentrated on Greg. I approached him swaying my inflated hips and stood nearby, treading on the arms of the chair, where his brother still was deflating.

“Hi.” - I added a sweet smile to the simple greating, - “You two are brothers, aren't you? Can you tell me, does he have a girlfriend?”

“No. He doesn't. He sort of avoids women.” - said Greg.

“But why? We are good.” - I asked, still smiling and playing with my black locs. He was already very confused and didn't even try to maintain eye contact, openly staring into my cleavage, which was right in front of his face.

“You are very beautiful... Out of my and my brothers league for sure.”

“Why do you think so? Do you mean that you are single too, like your brother? Can I ask you a personal question then?

He nodded.

I lean to his ear closing the distance even more and whispered: “When was the last time you had sex?”

“Lo-Long ago”

“No worries, I won't tell anyone.” - I winked.

“Two months ago.”

“That's strange, because you are cute.”

Finally there was a familiar hissing sound and I felt a jet of his leaking air gently caressing my tummy.

“Ouch, I couldn't resist it too, sorry.” - apologized Greg.
“No worries, you did nothing bad” - I stroke his hair in the most tender way.

Red dude also started to deflate, judging by yet another hissing sound. So S bomb testing passed successfully, all three objectives met, and thus I could open my cards to him.

“Greg, actually you held valiantly against my charms, because I played so straightforward and dirty... I should apologize, but we really had to test it on someone unwitting, that's important for our mission.

“I don’t mind.” - Greg smiled blissfully, as his body slowly sagged in the chair next to me. - “I really liked that. But wait, do you really plan to trick Wittenberg’s guards the same way? And that’s why you checked to make sure they are into girls ...”

“I like that you like it. You are smart boy, Greg. Yes, that’s our idea.”

“Ouch. So now I know top secret information?” - he did his best to chuckle, which wasn’t so easy, when his face started to sink down into collar of his shirt.

“Indeed. You know too much now.” - I grinned - “But you ain’t going to tell anyone, soon you’ll de deflated.”

For a few seconds he was genuinely afraid: “S-Seriously?

“We shall inflate you, when our mission is over. Hm, how about I personally look after that?” - I cooed.

“That would be wonderful!”

“Of course it will be. Now stay here boy and don’t walk away” - I gave his nose a poke, - “I have yet another issue to solve.”

I left Greg to finish his deflation and turned my attention to Samekh, who just sat next to Vav. We didn’t plan that initially, but she clearly intended to win our informal competition scoring 2:1:1. Okay, challenge accepted.
I went towards them passing by Lamed. Miss Coordinator watched all this mess silently and didn’t intervene to stop us.

“I really don’t understand, what am I doing here? I’m not going on this mission, your magic doesn’t work on me, as you see. Should I just sit here and watch you deflating these pups?” - Vav said.

“Why are you so sure, it doesn’t work on you?” - teased Samekh.

Vav looked calm and confident indeed. He has short dark hair, straight nose, he looked cool and unstirred, yet his lips were pursed - a good sign of suppressed emotions. So, where Samekh failed, maybe I should win.

“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