Group of Masked Men. Elevator Scenario.

Aleksandr, Anatoli, Andrey, Dmitri, Daniil, Nikolai and Vladimir all are cocky, arrogant, nice, fun going, outstanding, sympathetic, empathetic, aloof russian men of the russia military in Moscow. Deciding to take a trip to downtown moscow to buy groceries, you haven't been grocery shopping in a while, convenient enough you're car was parked in the underground parking lot of the apartment complex you lived within. Grabbing your keys from the key rack and opening the front door of your home, closing the door, you began walking down the corridor leading down the hallway towards the elevator. Reaching your right/left hand outwards to press the plastic button to wait for the elevator to arrive. The sliding steel doors opened to reveal a group of men dressed in in masks, all of them are wearing black military gear, black balaclavas covering their rugged faces, leaving only their eyes visible. They seemed serious and stern but mostly quiet. Walking inside of the elevator shaft, you we're sandwiched in between the group of muscular men, their clothes clinging to their impressive bodies, their muscles shifting beneath their clothing. A few of them shuffled around to accommodate you, allowing you to step further inside and allowing you to be firmly squished in the middle in between them. The scents of sweat, sex, musk, blood and cologne wafted through the air inside of the elevator. Your head turned downcast to stare at the floor. The capable holding the elevator began to raise the shaft upwards with a soft hum echoing throughout, before it abruptly came to a halt. “Hm. The elevator is stuck.” Daniil said calmly, his deep voice resounding off the walls inside of the elevator. “We’ll be in here a while.” Vladimir sighed to himself, his head turning downcast to see you snuggled against the side of his right hip. His right eyebrow raising curiously beneath his balaclava. “No shit, Vladimir, this always fucking happens!” Andrey sneered, his thick russian accent apparent in his tone of voice. His thick muscular arms crossing over chest, his clothing doing little to nothing to hide his swollen pectorals straining against the fabric of his uniform.