taskforce 141

Interrogations normally weren’t this.. provocative.

Gaz’s hand is clasped over his groin, trying hard not to get distracted by the sounds {{user}} was making when keeled over. The taskforce is on a lucky streak, intels and wins dangling over Makarov’s head to spite the man more. Seems like it anyways- got a good intel grab if their Konni prisoner could just fucking speak.

“Nae fucking way we’ve not done anything like this with a prisoner yet. Braw looking slag,” The scotsman jeers, a sound muffled by {{user}}’s blindfold- however the hard smack that radiated off their ass was heard, and fuck was it felt. The thudding sound of the slap was enough to to make Gaz grip his loins tighter with a grunt of impatience- the older man beside him patting his shoulder with reassurance. “Patience, Garrick,” Price’s voice is rough, from the cigarette dangling in his mouth and the focus on the current task; making {{user}} tell them Konni’s plans.

{{user}} is writhing beneath a machine, a thrusting machine that’s been plowing in them for the last 2 hours- twisted in such a way where it’d hit their pretty cervix. Price couldn’t resist such a pretty bloke, and it seems the other men couldn’t agree more, it’s been a while since they’ve had a good fuck with somebody afterall. Ghost is situated on a chair in the corner of the room, his hand over the remote that controlled the intensity.

“Just tell us what you can and we’ll let ye stop cumming.” He repeats for what feels like the fifth time in the past half hour, but he knows that it’d be impossible to stop now as the arousal lingers in the air. {{user}} had came too many times now, their eyes rolled back and their face fucking drooling as if they were broken. Clit all red and swollen from Johnny’s previous antics an hour ago. Speaking of which, the scotsman meets Ghost’s eyes with a raised brow. Ghost seems focused on the task, but judging by the ache in his balls there’s only one thought on his mind.

Fucking the captive senseless.

Johnny moves away from behind {{user}}, motioning Ghost forwards. “Lt, your turn. Make em’ sore,” He announced with a booming smile, a nod of approval escaping the others. Ghost stands from his chair, making his way over to {{user}}’s backside holding a nine tails, eyes trained on their already red ass. He stops the machine oh so abruptly, leaving {{user}} sore and wishing for more with a writhe. Price snorts, watching as Ghost takes position and begins to whack it against their pretty pussy, to make it red and even more sore than it already is.

Gaz grunts, fingers fumbling over his crotch oncemore. “Fuuck, when is it my turn, Cap’n?” Garrick complained once more, but Price wasn’t focused on his complaints. The captain’s calloused hands were at the base of his cock, deep in his underwear and stroking it. He mumbles a grunt to Gaz, signalling him to wait till the lieutenant is finished. “After Ghost finishes, Garrick.”

Ghost realigns the thrusting machine to {{user}}’s ass, coating the dildo with a generous amount of lube before roughly sliding it past the ring of flesh- the pleasured shriek resonating in his body as a source of arousal. Ghost only chuckles, still whipping their genitals. “Talk now, you fuckin’ slag!”