Contracted Corruption (Sanocci and Xana)

[Xanaphia]

Basin City was quiet this time of night. Not that the metropolis ever truly slept, but there was a vaguely funereal serenity that lingered. Azalea stood atop a building overlooking her target, peering through binoculars for a last minute recon. They wouldn’t expect her to come from above, and the bedroom window on the second floor was left open. She would be in and out in twenty minutes.

She hit the zip line to the stone chimney and slid down, landing lightly on the roof. Scurrying, she made her way into the open window, scanning the bedroom, darkened by the shadows of the night. He wouldn’t see her until it was too late. She blended into the shadows of the room, her black leather cat suit fit her like a second skin, tight against her considerable round breasts and full ass. Her target was still in bed, cocooned in blankets. Mayor Terrence Darrow, mere moments before his final breath.

Why someone would want the man dead, she couldn’t say. There were many reasons to want a public official dead, ranging from him being incorruptible to him knowing too much, any of which might apply to the good mayor. When a client pays half her fee up front, Azalea knew better than to ask questions. So, without knowing who wanted him dead or why, and more importantly, with caring all that much, Azalea prepared herself for the kill.

Poison was her method of choice. It was clean, simple, and terrifyingly easy to apply, even to highly protected targets. However, the main reason she chose poison as her modus operendi was because she was immune to it. A benefit of her super-powered genome, which went another step further. She could excrete it, through her pores. Even better, she could develop whatever poison she needed, on the fly. Of course, for the most deadly and potent poisons, periods of concentration were needed to produce it, longer periods for greater potency.

Since her client asked that it look like a natural cause, she decided on a poison that would cause cardiac arrest would be ideal. Creating something that potent would take some time, focusing on the composition as she approached the man. Fortunately for him there would be little pain. He would die quickly in his sleep, and she would be a hundred thousand richer, come morning. Still, something about how easy this all had been nagged at the back of her mind, and sharpened as she pulled back the covers from the mayor.

“You’re not Terrence Darrows,” She whispered, backing away from unexpected adversary.

 

[Sanoci]

Mayor Darrows, well established within the metropolis of Basin city. Humane, pious to a fault, and scrupulous in disposition was superseded in an era saturated in self interests. Targets aplenty of questionable morals seek to dissolve his decade of rule, endeavors proven nearly successful with bolder actions initiated by the criminal underworld most likely. Favors, in addition with extensive subterfuge helped elevated the time tables for interrupting the danger awaiting the mayor this wicked night

Armament aka Darius Durr thrived on the hunt, misfortune after misfortune plaguing the ex-marine, turned professional mixed martial artist whom was meant for stardom prior to criminals ruining the livelihood of those in association. Amongst the abhorring acts perpetrated was the calamity of his marriage through the failed attempt at saving his daughter from abduction. Video taped her grooming for prostitution and eventual trafficking through the country where her location or fate probably with an Arabic millionaire forcing his putrid body onto her. Estranged wife raped and murdered in front of him, disfigurement of his closest friend, and even grotesque methods of torment like forcing him to choose between his elderly parents. All for refusal to play the game, defiance, and even playing heroics by directly imposing the seedy criminal enterprises thanks to his elite training.

Powers manifested differently throughout those blessed or cursed by the super-powered genome. Immeasurable mental distress, including nearly beaten to death on a gruesome ambush helped unlocked his potential. Naturally this instilled ethics which made him a hero of ill repute, lethal methods never out of the question, potentially a borderline criminal. Armament found his talent of replications to work organically and inorganically to a degree, posing the bait meant for whomever found targeting the benevolent figure of authority. Slipping a peek over the covers revealed the hero fully adorned with kelvar vest, dark jeans, and immediately swinging in a pragmatic manner a surging haymaker to collide against the assassin.

" No, he is not him. "

Armament lurked in the shadows, sagacious enough to utilize his surroundings to grant the replication of himself the opportunity to fight without threat of his own well being. In total four Darius prowled in the obscured shadows of the bedroom. The three remaining clones spoke simultaneously to drown the approximate destination of the mayor's defender. Empowered through the multiplications of his own form meant enhancing the punch of a hardened war veteran trained in unarmed combat almost superhuman. It was plausible to describe the sensation should the surprise connect closer to peak physical condition of a professional strong man, unkempt raven shoulder length hair billowing within the madness of the impended skirmish.

 

[Xanaphia]

The assailant’s punch sent Azalea crashing into the wall. Ducking under a follow up strike, she retaliated with her knee in his gut. She pushed him back enough to maneuver away from the wall, only to get grabbed from behind by another attacker. A high kick kept the first attacker at bay, but she still struggled against the hand wrapped around her throat. Her heel connected with his knee, the sharp pain loosening his hold over her long enough to wriggle free.

Briefly, she concentrated on her powers, coating her fists with a mild stunning poison. It was the best option she could manage under such hectic circumstances. An uppercut to her cut nearly rendered the deed pointless, as her oxygen exploded out of her lungs. It was only because she managed a lucky counter punch that she didn’t go down then and there. The blow itself wasn’t strong, but the effects of her poison more than made up for it, as her opponent faltered in following up his near knockout blow. Still, she was outnumbered, a fact she was reminded of by a low kick to the back of her knee, sending her down this time.

Flailing legs found his jaw as he tried to straddle her, giving her a chance to gain the upper hand for the first time this evening. She lunged over to her foe, bringing her fists into his face. He defended his head with his arms, but her poison was still affected him, his guard failing him.

Before she could turn his face into a bloody pulp , another set of hands hooked under her armpit, bending her arm back painfully. She was lifted off the floor, as her arm was threatening to break under the immense pressure he was placing on it. An involuntary scream escaped her lips as she was pulled away, confusing her ability to count how many she were fighting. Desperate for reprieve, her fingers brushed his skin, poisoning him her only means to escape the hold. She just hoped it would be quick enough to prevent her arm from being broken.

 

[Sanoci]

Armament bestowed a sturdy arm bar intertwined deeply at the center of her arm, body quickly weakening in strength against the disabling poisons of Azalea as it became evident of the numbers facing her, denying her the opportunity to complete her scandalous mission. Soreness would follow her, yet only a minor fracture would haunt this bitch momentarily as he had two versions of himself envelope her flailing legs, following a third figure wailing with cumulative right and left hooks into her vulnerable mid section akin to a punching bag. He wasn't expecting her to exhale out a putrid green gas from her mouth temporarily blinded every clone within striking range, but fortunately his assault from his hardy strikes affect breathing before rolling away to safety or so she presumed.

" The Mayor isn't yours to have vile vixen!! Villainy like yours needs to be neutralized!", an ardent statement characterized by the venomous emphasize in his insult like reliving the horrors which morphed this warrior into a vigilante of justice which was both got him vilified and revered simultaneously. Three out of the four cloned Armaments were reeling from her toxic smokescreen, though himself still hidden in view in the war of attrition. Never appreciative of the wanton greed of the city, how ironic this spacious bedroom played well to this staged ambush. Previously grappling with her... he ran with the type of momentum more accustomed to a professional athlete, spear tackling the assassin back into the wall violently. Intentionally pinning her to the wall, the other clones began to descend upon her. Capitalizing was plausible, however more difficult than intended with rapid downward elbows imbued with her irritating stunning poison to lessen his might.

Dangerous in numbers, two of him began the malicious game of tug o war with her arms. Each insulating her into a precarious position, administering a wrist lock to force her to submit, seize consciousness and most importantly keep her immobile long enough for the fourth clone of Armament to arrive to knock her out. Plans naturally never fully hatch out, spring boarding forward in a ludicrous corkscrew flip from scaling off the collapsing body holding her originally with herself soaring above. Keeping her mostly stationary it shocked him to see this woman perform this level of flexibility and acrobatics as she drove her knees into one of him landing...crushing the spine as things were almost reversed." DDammnnn!!!"

 

[Xanaphia]

How many of them were there? Every time she incapacitated one, another seemed to pop up in his place. Not only had she been ambushed, but it was another superhuman, like her. She had heard of Armament, the vigilante with a taste for death who patrolled Basin City. She had to get out of here. The job was a bust, and this man wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. But two of him grabbed her, from each side, threatening to rip her arms from their sockets. Still, exposed skin still seeped with poison, negating his strength advantage.

“Neutralize this!” She cried out, launching into her corkscrew flip. Knees crunched into his body, breaking bones in multiple places. Still, it was just one down, three others still overcoming the effects of her poison to assail her once more. A potent kidney punch sent her crashing head first into the wall, and a strong body was against hers immediately, pinning her there with a forearm against her throat.

Fuck. Her whole body ached form the brutal she was receiving. If she did survive, she’s be bloody and bruised for days, and a throbbing pain in her arm suggested she might have been fractured something. Still, she brought her elbow back, connecting with his face, hard enough to once more escape his grasp. Now she was sprinting for the window, anything to escape the morally righteous madman. Tackled from behind by the faster opponent, her face smashed into the hardwood flooring. The impact had her dizzy, confused for a moment where she was before pain and adrenaline reminded her.

In her blood soaked fury, she managed to grab hold of a nearby chair leg, straining against her aggressor. She pulled it down over them, thudding against his head. She rolled over then, defending herself against a second attack, arms brought up to protect her face. Fist impacting into the already fractured bone exacerbated the damage, leaving Azalea to howl in anguish, unable to continue defending her face. One last blow was all it took to render her unconscious.

 

[Sanoci]

Deception helped rendered this a sanctifying triumph, morals and honor on the battlefield predated notions that were only sanctioned competitive in combat sports. True warfare did not apply to such naive thoughts. This predator for cash would be left lethargic he presumed, weakened by his numbers as she was held upright. Two clones kept a sturdy grip onto each arm with another two pinning her legs temporarily as the true Darius Durr appeared in front of her. Technology and super powered abilities were a blessing, foreseeing the ambush without the threat of getting eliminated. Was it a pragmatic tactic? Most definitely, but villains did not exactly played fair. A madman to the side of evil, he withdrew a serrated knife from his knife holster, crouching in a squat to linger a venomous gaze at the assassin with a gloved right hand tugging roughly upon her locks to better intensify the stare down.

" It looks like I did neutralize you, but not in the militaristic way. Your ilk cause despair all around."

Without any signal, perhaps a social cue, body language or a hive mind in association with his abnormal abilities caused the two to allot more pressure, grinding against her slender arms as they cranked it tighter to inflict torture onto her curvy exterior traced nicely by her choice of attire. Even the sadistic anti-hero could not deny the attraction to some degree. Narrowing the knife, he scraped skin as the blade began to reveal more of her flesh starting near the collarbone, speaking in ominous tones amidst it all.

" Tonight, I inflict a horror that might enlighten you. A crossroads of sorts for your actions of the past. I know what your kind feel about me...forcing more extreme methods to force my point across...even now!!"

 

[Xanaphia]

Azalea wasn’t given much opportunity to fade from consciousness, as she was lifted up by two sets of held, and simultaneously held down by another two. Her body contorting awkward to satisfy both sets of demands placed on her. Pain from her fractured arm roused her from the nether of unconsciousness, leaving her to look up at the man responsible for her predicament.

Armament. The true Armament.

He held a knife in one hand. Would he gut her, slowly like some sort of sadistic psychopath? She was awake, but to say she was alert was a stretch. Still, her eyes watched the blade, moonlight glinting off its sharpened edge. She almost wished she wasn’t immune to her own poison now, so she could kill herself quickly, and deny him the satisfaction of her screams. But there was little to do as four clones held her still, forcibly arching her back towards the man with the knife.

Her outfit peeled off her skin easily enough, eased by the deadly instrument in his hand. Thin rivulets of blood followed in its wake, trailing down her heft bosom as it broke free of its leather prison. A black bra was the only thing left holding them back from his gaze. As big as he was, her full mounds would still prove more than a handful for him. Crimson blood contrasted with fair skin as his blade found skin more than once, drawing sharp cried from her pouty lips. She was exposed from the waist up as he spoke.

" Tonight, I inflict a horror that might enlighten you. A crossroads of sorts."

“You self righteous son of a bitch!” She snapped at him, wanting to wriggle free, but staying perfectly still, lest her cut her again in her struggle. “You think you can torture me into morality? Or is that just an excuse to engage in the activities you kill others for? We are both killers. I am just honest about it.”

 

[Sanoci]

" I was a soldier, bitch!!"

Relinquishing his clasp on her pretty face soon followed with a cracking backhanded fist slamming across the mouth of the garrulous bitch willing to exhibition her talents for profit. That comparison fumed the vigilant protector of Basin city more than she could comprehend. Blurting out a specific tune of a whistle, Azalea could feel the wrenching pain of tendons bending, ligaments in distress as the corkscrew motion of their arm bars increasing in strain...awaiting a signal. When none was received for approximately an entire minute, an audible crunch shrieked throughout the bedroom. Maintaining their humanoid shackle formation, Armament continued with the knife. Triggering some visuals for this vixen, the next procedure involved lowering the blade to proceed with an opening where she could be revealed like the bitch she was.

" Of course I killed, but I did not sell myself like a prostitute.. No, even most of them do it for necessity or were forced. Not you....not someone with your track record. "

Slowly Armament turned away, heaving in breathe as time froze for only the briefest of moments. Pain was intentional, drowning out concentration which was paramount for plenty with superhuman abilities like themselves. A representative of power perverse towards crime, Azalea's punishment for her deeds lacking empathy would be a telling tale and in all likelihood borderline criminal if not for the fact her tallies for abhorrent acts made this appropriate. Dropping a hefty container near the assassin, Darius began to rummage through with glee expressed through his grimace and nonchalant whistling. Disclosed to her was a stainless steel object, measured about 7 inches with metallic prongs. It illuminated as sparks started emitting from the object. It was a cattle prod and the intent was evident based on his stare.

" You'll be cleansed of your deeds, tonight!!"

 

[Xanaphia]

It’s probably wasn’t so smart to open her smart mouth while she was held prone for a monster. And she paid for the mistake, as her arms were twisted maliciously, until the slight fracture grew into a full on break. Ear piercing screams filled the room, mind numbing pain wracking her body. Despite the fact that exposing more skin should have been a bad more on his end, giving her more points of contact for her poison, it wouldn’t matter. But the level of pain she was in made it impossible to concentrate, impossible to focus, impossible to think. Her world was pain and humiliation, as her cat suit was cut to the crotch, revealing matching black panties that revealed more than they covered.

“Is this what you get off on?” She taunted, weakly. Still hadn’t quite learned her lesson, it seemed. If she pissed him off enough, he might snap and kill her. Spare herself the horror he wished to unleash upon her, the fucked up manner of which he would “cleanse” her. She watched numbly as he pulled out his tools, deciding on the cattle prod to be the first instrument of torment this evening. “How, much do I need to scream, to get your dick hard?” She spat, venom coating her words.

 

[Sanoci]

Darius ignored her barbed words, hoping the pain administered through her body left this pitiful verbal quarrel short for the arrangement awaiting this vile woman. Visibly displaying the knife near her once more, a foreboding hummed reflected within this damaged bedroom where their skirmish although short was enacted. Salient by the slithering of the serrated edge was the shredding of her underwear, preying upon her luscious body to garner a stare or two. Ironically the cattle prod surfaced for this next part, channeling a high voltage of electricity as the distance closed between them. Granted given her emphasis on his manhood perhaps the vigilante could comply in the most horrific way imagined. The question did bare plenty; would Armament dare allow the primal urges that rules both sexes seep on through to prove a point?

" Your screams do nothing for me vixen. Wanton murder, especially targeting the one political figure against this sort of madness. No, your screams will simply fuel reminders of your heinous actions. I will amplify your lewd mind however; I am bigger than this instrument to your agony."

Gliding the bulbous shaft rippling with this alternative course of action. Death did not bestow the sense of deterrence he yearned for, the evils of this city constant memories with gravestones and broken relationships as the bookmarks towards his own nightmare. Her bare nether lips exposed, the humming of the electricity as a gradual insertion passed her entrance. Momentarily the voltage did not surge, watching how she reacted to an inanimate object sinking into her. Slowly each inch of the prod pressed into her, a nagging feeling of the danger that lurked in the horizon. When fully adapted, the switch was turned as the painful sensation of electricity would send immense heat and likely spasms throughout her body.

 

[Xanaphia]

The steel of the knife was cool upon her sweat dampened skin as he cut off her panties. She shuddered, trying to suppress the physical reaction with the edge so close to her sensitive flesh. A slip here would be disastrous, assuming she did indeed survive this encounter. So the garment was ruined, and slid free of her body, leave her sex completely exposed to him now, as two of his clone held her legs apart.

Was Armament a rapist? He was an asshole, and a killer, but rape was a special sort of evil. A sort of evil his kind could claim a moral opposition to. He certainly looked upon her body with a dark lust written in his eyes, whether he would admit to it or not. But he picked up the cattle prod instead of pulling out his dick, and she swallow hard as she imagined what he intended to do, eyes wide as she watched it come to life.

His remark about being larger than the cattle prod was not lost on her, further confusing the question of whether or not he intended to rape her. Was that worse? She wasn’t sure, and wasn’t given much time to consider it, as the cold, metal instrument breached her entrance.
“No…” she whimpered, as the intentions became clear, actual fear painted on her otherwise lovely face. Or perhaps the fear made her more attractive in Armament’s eyes. Still, he did not relent, the unyielding and chill metal shaft parting her wall. Pushing into her unlubricated cunt was a challenge that Armament did not shy away from. Aside from the head it was slim, but its stiff metallic composition betrayed any comfort its slender form might have afforded her.

As the tip met the resistance of her cervix, it hummed to life, excruciating shocks coursing through her body. She screamed until her throat was raw, writhing and convulsing, almost threatening to escape the grasp of her captors. Her full breasts bounced and quaked alongside her body, coming loose from her bra as she struggle and strained against her internal anguish.

She was still shaking when he finally released the, body twitching randomly. She was whimpering as the pain died down from unbearable to considerable, eyes blurry from unwilling tears. “Monster” she gasped out, her slit still trembling around his tool.

 

[Sanoci]

Psychological horror levy with the layers of physical anguish could instill much in the morality of just about anyone. Whether or not her resolve quaked to this fear bared the question itself. What resonated those uncompromising beliefs is the justice that could purify those enabling the type of vices which accursed the downtrodden. Removing the object from her slit, Darius Durr seek a shift in her actions, maybe even regret. Thus far all that emulated from her mouth was vengeance, words mainly inflamed from excruciating pain which even a righteous extremist like Armament could not completely fault. Calling him a monster still stung...the hypocritical reply that brought recollections of her crimes.

Azalea is infamous as a walking chemical weapon, a manifestation of the destruction waged by the avaricious of those raking in the money. Cringe worthy and illustrious in its own daunting way was murder of the humanitarian and running council member called Merrick Reigns. A clergyman with stalwart faith in good and one similar to the mayor that would not pan handle cash from the predators of Basin city. Peculiar was her delivery or at least assumed was her thanks to news articles of a scantly clad woman assaulting him with a licentious kiss. What transgressed mere hours later with no proof of consumption of anything was the swelling of the throat. Afterwards just be a mere minute a large quantity of blood leaked out of bodily orifices such as the mouth, eyes - even through the skin's pores. Ruled an assassination...this matched the MO of this person for later. Despite her profession, she could be redeemed for she was the weapon, not the handler behind the corruption itself.

" Call me a monster, but if shocking you won't cleanse you of crime....maybe disfigurement of your face by fire will be sufficient."

The demented gaze he shot her told her of the level of brutality he would unleash in exchange of ridding the streets of an efficient killer. Resistance was still meant through his words, the clones struggling to keep her docile in movement. Shuffling the container, shoving aside numerous instruments of an insidious nature. Promoting to his victim the tool of her salvation soon enough, he pondered at her expression. Shown before her as he laid it a few feet away was a blow torch, still searching for the mask itself while expressing his dismay amidst the search.

" You are a pretty thing, shame I must ruin it to change your ways."

 

[Xanaphia]

She groaned as the prod was pulled out of her, coated slight with her own lubrication. To say she was wet was inaccurate, but her body with moisten ever so slightly to protect herself from the damage the prod could have done to her body. And while she hadn’t intended it, poison coated her slit, poison that targeted the sexual urges. It was not a poison she used often, or even intentionally, it was potent in a way she never anticipated.

“No!” She shrieked as he pulled out the blowtorch, once more going wild under his clones, even freeing a leg for a moment, before the clone reestablished control over her body. She had little reason to doubt that Armament would indeed make good on his threats, burning her flesh to teach her some sick lesson in morality. She couldn’t let this go on. He was clearly insane, as cruel as any enforcer for any criminal enterprise should had worked for. She killed people, yes, but the people she killed rarely suffered long.

Desperate fingers grasp for flesh, some small amount of poison seeping out, just enough to disorient them so she could escape. She found his arm, the pain of trying to move her broken arm agonizing, but if she were an animal in a trap she would have chewed it off to escape. His grip loosen ever so slightly, enough to wrench her arm free. The other hand also found flesh, the poison soaking into his skin to secure her freedom. Both hands grazed the men who held her legs until she could control her limbs once more.

Escape still wasn’t easy, with her legs wobbly like jelly from the invasive shock to her insides. Unable to run, she crawled away, her slit still on display from the way her cut open her clothes. She managed to lift herself up using the chair she had earlier knocked over, standing on uneasy legs.

 

[Sanoci]

Underestimating this devilish assassin was his undoing through witnessing her scrambling passed his clones. Adrenaline mustered up tiers of strength one kept dormant primarily for safeguarding themselves. It was seldom, but her aghast movements signifying the duress under his horrid actions were indeed implanting thoughts of fleeing this hazardous way of life that only makes one somber later in life should they survive that long. Reaching for the torture appliance utilized only moments ago, Darius Durr found no reason to roast her with the blowtorch. Still knowing someone seemed amenable towards such appalling means spooked most individuals down to their core. Unintentionally amid the pandemonium already stacking for this night, Armament bare left hand absorbed through skin contact what lubrication which dripped from her succulent pussy.

" Why am I having such thoughts.... What..did...you...do!!!"

Lanced with a fast acting aphrodisiac did not amuse this soldier for righteous by whatever means necessary. Her diminished strength from this arduous encounter should not phase him this strongly, making precautions initially hence the application administered with throwing clones at her to never grant her this opportunity for escape. Her crawl mesmerized, even perverse his visual vicinity despite the fact of the repercussions behind this possibility. Her ass hugged what still hugged her skin tight suit, powerful emotions that should not strain him...yet her gyrating hips helped no one, including her.

Toppling her with great strength and frightening speed, heightened by the lust consuming his thought process. Years of sexual denial fed by his impulsive need to clean the streets overcame him. They wrestled momentarily, frantic in his lust and her attempting to escape the site of her potential death. Abruptly clasping his hands on her face, a disturbed look was painted now. Before it stolid with hints of passion for his depraved acts, now it was frenzied, overwhelmed by lust as Darius forced the assassin on her knees to face his rising crotch

" The option is yours, slut. Free the beast, please it, and you live. Don't and I will feed your cunt the flames of that blowtorch. Enough games...bitch! "

 

[Xanaphia]

She wasn’t able to get far before he was on her again, the effects of her poison now coursing through his veins. At first, she really had no idea what he meant, having never bother purposefully produced this type of poison before. But the way his eyes lit up with rabid lust left little doubt he was under the influence of something, and she was likely the cause.

By now she was on her knees once more, eyes level with his bulging erection. He made his demand, that she suck him off to save her life, else be horrifically scarred and tortured. What option was it, really? Even a forced blow job couldn’t compare to the horror he threatened her with. So her good hand worked at his pants, freeing his cock, nearly smacked in the face by the immense organ. Her eyes grew wide as she looked upon it, far bigger than any man she had even been with. He certainly wasn’t joking when he said he was bigger that the cattle prod.

The thought of taking his cock within her body was intimidating, but he was letting her act of her own accord, instead of forcing himself in her. Perhaps head would be all he needed, to reach climax, so that she could be released from his grip. So she brought hesitant lips to his bulbous head, licking the ridge of his lip. Once her saliva coated him, she took him in her mouth, sucking as well as she could given his girth.

As she suffered the humiliation of sucking off a man who had shoved a cattle prod within her cunt to shock her insides, she considered how she could turn this to her advantage. While it was still hard to concentrate on her power with her body in terrible pain, he was subjecting himself to her mouth, and the potent poisons she could create within. He would be distracted with pleasure, and hopefully she could extract some revenge for the ways he had hurt her. However, as her velvet cheeks engulfed his meat, signals were mixed, and her saliva become envenomed with the same poison that had turn the vigilante into a sexual predator.

 

[Sanoci]

Conflicts arose like his buckram cock liberated from his pants and seized into the warm cavern of her mouth. A resurgent in a sex life thought nonexistent after the tragedies wreaked onto those he held dear left a crossroads between bewilderment of these darker motivations anyone personifying themselves as a hero of sort would vilify without question or the lingering lust erupting at the titillating experience of a gorgeous killer sucking on his dick. Her teeth grazed the top of his foreskin, stagnant suction potentially showing her disinterest , chalking it to the brimming pain coming from the injures bestowed or she couldn't handle his size. Luxuriating in the caress of her mouth massaging his head, a reassuring moan uttered from his lips with saliva coating him his psyche was pummeled by a metamorphosis dissolving layers of his inhibitions, beliefs, drowning everything heroic in exchange for unfathomable imagery of this lovely woman worshiping his prick earnestly and eagerly.Alarmed was the appropriate thought, prying his bulbous head from her lips momentarily with hands intertwined loosely in her hair .

" What's the largest cock you've taken ? Someone deadly like you certainly have entered some precarious scenarios. "

Catching her astonish from his perverse actions was a devious ploy to hopefully find a moment of vulnerability. An inkling of his true self still existed, intentionally relinquishing her from this degrading session all for a botched endeavor of assassinating a mayor. Humiliation would not cease that quickly for her sake, firmly grappling her full mounds, wedging his hefty members between them. Curiosity wrestled this warrior, morality corroding like an acid the further these toxins plagued him. She could feel his rigid cock tightly constricted by her breasts, purposely twisting her nipples before sandwiching them completely. Propelled forward, angled perfectly thanks to its curved shape still reached near her lips. Half of him prevailed versus her busty exterior, taunting her, but through this arousing demonstration.

" Maybe prostitution is a prospective career choice. Now Suckk!!!"

 

[Xanaphia]

Whatever effect she hoped to inflict upon him with her poison wasn’t working. He didn’t stop, or slow down or falter. He amped up his cruelty, using her tits to satisfy his pleasure now. Engulfing his meat between her soft flesh, rubbing his length against her body. He was long enough the head and then some peaked out from above her breasts. Still he wasn’t satisfy with then, demanding more, demanding her mouth as well as her breasts. She did was she could to obey, still convinced he would hurt her for noncompliance.

She didn’t answer his comment, seeing no point in discussing her love life with the man. Certainly seeing no point in boost his ego with the truth, which was that he was far bigger than the men she fucked in her life. Losing to him, stripped and groped and violated with a cattle prod were bad enough. He would not have her pride as well. She would do as he asked, to avoid further pain, but she would not stroke his vanity as well.

Her lips wrapped around his cock, sliding up and down over his head to lather him in saliva. Still, she tried to focus on something that would help her, even if she was distracted by the thick girth parting her cleavage. His thick, calloused finger held her in place, groping at her tits, forcing the nipples to grow erect from the rough sensations. Cruel as much as gratifying, as once more fears and fantasies of being fucked by this cock danced in her mind. It would either be heaven or hell, though it would probably be better than the blowtorch.

Spit drooled down his dick, making the friction of soft yet dry skin along his shaft smoother. He could more faster now, breasts bouncing in momentum with his movement, her lips still sucking his meat, glistening in her wake. She didn’t resist being used by him, but she sure as hell didn’t put in a strong effort.

 

[Sanoci]

Leaving her in this perilous position sought out an aberration of his typical demeanor, toxins bewitching every activity behind this bizarre meeting turned chaotic. Hubris bolstered with the substantial imagery of himself enfolding his meat between her mounds that might as well symbolize buns. Resistance instilled the prospect of danger, fastened by a combination of his enormous width and her full breasts taking some effort to slide a rhythm to feed her a few inches. Currently wrenching from her unique poison and sexual frustration, Darius Durr own twisting of her erected nipples intensifying the more hysterical things reached on the basis of her suction even if reluctant.

Simply gazing at how sultry she appeared on her knees, mouth stuffed partially by his cock felt clout in his mind. Her vociferous sounds coming from her mouth really turned him on, likely pandering the idea of someone else. The friction built, accelerating in his thrust as her breast rumbled and shake wildly with the bucking of his hips, feeling the pleasure bring deliverance as pent up juices flowed for years without release.

"DRINKKK....ITTTTT....ALLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!"

As he announced it to her, he erupted as she had probably ancipated , trembling as his knees buckled a bit. His release came in several waves, and while only a few seconds, seemed to last forever in his mind as she milked his entire load from his eager cock still fixated on her busty form. Taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, Armament began perceived he came harder than any recollections of the past as her mouth would get caked with it and some excess amount dripping on her breast. Sinew with strength from her abnormal poison, the cock remained rock solid which did not indicate anything worthwhile for her. A depraved grin drew from his features, the realization the ordeal wasn't completed. At the same time she assaulted him with her ability, making the punishment quite befitting. Releasing the amazing titjob, he grappled her head and suddenly went for a hasty series of thrusts straight for her throat, hoping to test her threshold for fat cock.

" TOO SLOW, NEED TO TEST YOUR GAG REFLEX!!!

 

[Xanaphia]

He used her like a piece of meat, fucking her tits without a care about how she might have felt about the situation. That she had caused this behavior in the first place was likely his justification. She had sought to ease her torment at his hands, and while this was less cruel that her violation with the cattle prod, there was a degree of humiliation she couldn’t deny.

The humiliation was worsened as he came, flooding her mouth with his salty seed, far more than she could possibly swallow down. It dribbled from her lips and splatter across her breast, leaving her coated in opalescent shame. She took a few deep breaths, hoping that her ordeal was over, hoping that his post-orgasmic contentment would leave him easier to topple. But his erection persisted, and she knew he would find more ways to use her, taking out years of pent up lust upon her body.

She wasn’t given much of a break, as he pushed his cock back into her mouth, forcing her to swallow his length this time. He still tasted of his semen, as he thrust himself past her tongue, filling her mouth with his massive meat. She cried out, muffled by the cock occupying her throat. This was painfully, throat stretching around his dense dick, jaw aching as he forced himself in her mouth. There was a fear that this wouldn’t end quickly, that his lust would never be sated.

She couldn’t give into despair. Finally, she stopped exuding poison, having come to the realization that it was hurting more than it was helping. She focused on sucking him off, focused on breathing so she wouldn’t choke on his length. Focused on keeping her sanity, no letting this rape erode her sense of self, or diminish her well-being. Even as she gagged around his cock, body convulsing as she struggled with take him all.

 

[Sanoci]

Aversion existed, however the fervor in association with repressed sexual satisfaction ruined him. Armament knew she wasn't entirely deserving, chemicals produced through her potent toxins magnifying the libido comparable to a super charged aphrodisiac pummeling his sense of stability and lowered inhibitions as his enormous members soaked in the cavity of this assassin; a mixture of saliva and semen polluting her as he jerked himself off. Oblivious to her makeup smearing and the tears that followed, groaning in appreciation of the convulsions transferring pleasant feelings despite her suffering. Snatching her hair meant easement on her busty mounds, curling her long hair into handlebars..the perverse slang for pink tails.

" Cannot even suck me properly; pathetic! Let me assist."

Stuffing his cock equated to fitting in tighter clothing two sizes too small, inflating her anatomy to adjust to the fatty sex organ as he gradually expelled her succulent lips from his members. Trailing was a web of saliva and remnants of his semen glazed onto the foreskin, each inch purposely relinquished in a tortuous slowed speed to give the visualization of her performance as if doing it for an audience. Nearly originating to the tentacles, her mouth parted with only the bulbous head greeting her. Maintaining freakish hardness with protuding veins redden by the toxins, Armament sunken his meat to the depths of her mouth again with some leverage. Reving her like a motorcycle, the depraved vigilante invaded her mouth with excessive excursion as all nine inches clogged her throat, only to be freed for seconds before striking again. His bounteous grunts in between the satisfied grimace he drew as if signaling other intruders amidst the entertainment.

One of the clones went for participation of the refreshments or bounty for a mission well done. Slipping down between her thighs during her punishment the clone pulled her legs up, immobilizing her further with the Assassin's feet are planted outside of his shoulders. Glancing at her pussy it was difficult to discern whether or not she was moistened from the blowjob. Lubing her probably would bring mutual fun, tackling head on of sorts. Placing his mouth around the top of her slit, Armanent's clone was unrelenting as two fingers inserted within her. Suddenly a tongue brushed against her hood and he literally went chaotic. Two more would bewildered the woman, each cupping a breast with fingers binding inbetween her nipples and twisting with their immediate attention.

" Assassin an virgin with the arsehole? We'll find out regardless...slutting you up tenderly, well as tenderly.... as.... yo...u deserveeeeee."

Her sexual assault lasted minutes with the blowjob, hitting her throat where he swore breathing ceased for a few chilling moments only to revive her moments later with another helping of oversize sausage raping her mouth. The sloshing, gags, even the savage imagery of witnessing his cock freed only to be polished swelled him up. Hankering down, the assassin would be violently pressured on his crotch quite literally balls deep and to the hilt. Streams of semen matching the previous batch would be fed, keen in watching her expression as he repeated the horrid act of slowly sliding her off his dick again to see the type of conduct she displayed this time. Unlike before Armanent wasn't feeding her more...but the shift of amazement of incredibly rigid members really made him give a seductive gaze at her.

" Your mouth isn't ridding me of the toxins. I think other holes must be explored." , he said ominously while remaining aligned to her with strong hands on her hair.

 

[Xanaphia]

There was no end to her humiliation, as Armament used her hair as a handle to fuck her mouth with. Controlling every aspect of the blow job he was taking from her, from how quick or slowly he dragged his cock along her tongue, to how long he stayed submerged within her tight throat. Even if it weren’t a terrible idea to bite him and incur the wrath of the tools he had brought to torture her, as deep as he was now it wasn’t even a possibility.

Not content to rape her alone, he starting subjecting her to his power, his clones joining in her assault eagerly. Eager to repay the injuries she had given them in the earlier fight. Between her thighs, she jerked away from the tongue that teased and toyed with her clit, not able to move far with four men holding her in place. The hot organ muscle was bliss against her violated entrance, bliss that struggle against the horror of her throat being raped. Still, her body reacting, dripping her honey along the clones face, coating the fingers that explored her. She bucked and squirmed away from his attention, even forcing herself deeper down Armament’s cock as she strained against an unwilling orgasm.

Her struggle was in vain as two of his clones groped at her full breast, showing them the same cruel attention. Nipples painfully erect, throbbing as they were squeezed and fondled, fair skin turning red from rough hands. Everything that was done to her works to topple her resistance, The fingers and tongue in her cunt, the hands on her breast, even the cock molesting her throat, cutting off her air for a nearly a minute. A lightheaded rapture took over, as she spasmed and struggled to breath, her core contracted around the invading fingers. His orgasm follow soon after her, pumping her stomach with a second frothy load. Spurting nearly enough semen for four men, she was once more coated in it, dribbling from her lips and splattered on her face and breasts.

“Does the whole city know you are a rapist?” She spat as he freed her mouth and threatened her other holes. “That you are no better than the men you kill. What self-justifying excuse do you have for using my body for your lust?”

 

[Sanoci]

" I only victimize those deserving of this cleansing, even death is beginning to lose its deterrence. Feeling this, experiencing this might quell your vices. CALL IT AN EXCUSE!!! Only know it was accepting the dirty work of criminals which led you here."

Cancerous was the grievous chemical process of her noxious toxins, warping his discipline as excuses rolled off his tongue analogous to a politician. Signaling the clones to divert their thorough scrutiny of the assassin's body, it grew apparent like his bolstered members that seeking a permanent release from her bewitching powers would only be subdued through her. Better a woman of horrid morals and apathy versus an innocent civilian on the streets. Leaving her reeling from the confrontation from earlier in addition to the sexual assault likely weakened her enough and naturally other options were readily available should she attempt escape. Still there were portion of his original persona appearing, unable to cull the libido driving him insane like a drug high or dehydration.

Ominous in approach, resistance was shown in her defiance as clones manipulated her body with difficulty. Even battered it was suggested to drug her among himselves, denying the pleasure or torment in her case should they go through that route. Leaving her attire partially shredded brought a profligate, more risque appearance that symbolized the art of the reversal of roles. His mammoth size begun to grind, holstering his hands temporarily on her hips. Aesthetically pleasing to himself and implanting his sex organ pressed onto her left quite the impression. Curved skyward as his girth fondled between her cheeks and into her crack, Darius Durr imagined the erosion behind his well endowed cock brushing on her slit, momentum accelerating in the perfect imagery of her plump rear holstering him.

Spreading her wide hips apart, Armanent fixated back to the nether lips where his attention currently wandered. Callous but sinew digits expanded her pussy, exposing the smaller, inner lips as her labia was stationary by two fingers each. Intentionally grasping her honeyed groin already leaking, he grinded his shaft portion of the cock to feel his rigid veins hit her clit and other sensitive parts before leaving this precarious position open with a large tool ready to invade.

" Going to be a tight squeeze! Its begging for it, you naughty assassin!!! "

 

[Xanaphia]

She was held in place while Armament movement around her, her body held in such a lewd position to force her ass into the air for his use. Hefty meat slid between her ass cheeks, letting her feel it’s girth and length as he rubbed himself on her. She already had a taste of it. A few tastes, the persistent salty musk sticking to her tongue. He had choked her on it already, and she didn’t expect it would be any easier to take between her thighs.

Would he be satisfied with violating her cunt? Two loads down her throat didn’t not leave her optimistic, and he had no qualms about raping and torturing her, whether this was the real Armament, free of his morals and principles, or just an overdose of her own poison flooding his system, it didn’t matter all that much in the moment. She had one problem now, a problem throbbing agsint her slit, her arousal dripping down his length as it brushed her opening. She cried out, shameful frenzy as the tip of his cock teased his clit.

“You piece of shit! You better kill me, if you think you can use me up like a whore to satisfy your self-righteous masturbation! I’ll torture you, slowly, repay the pain back to you a hundred fold.”

 

[Sanoci]

" Like any true warrior of justice, I accept all consequences."

Pausing typically never represented anything positive, gaped at the sumptuous asset currently gelatinous onto his swelling cock appearing overburdened by the poison flowing through which left him redden and unnaturally solid. Assured this woman wasn't completely willing, guilt left his conflicted conscious momentarily with her sex dripping for comfort with glistening digits keeping her spread open for him with others keeping her balance. Firm hands planted onto her chunky buns, preserving a steady hold as Armanent began his true descent onto even more appalling antics for the evening.

Lubrication between his arduous blowjobs and her soaking sex were invocations of something enticing. Ambitiously forwarding the bulbous head into another layer of her body, thumbs resting to keep her nether lips spread as it felt invasive. Receding against its massive size foretold the truth of his prior statement, gradually breaching her moist cavern as he rubbed against her. Almost abruptly the first inch ravaged her, parting her nether lips as she snatched him internally. Ridiculously tight he shuddered as fingernails shredded skin from her bare ass from intense gripping. Eight more inches remained, curious as he besieged her body further as a minute passed with another agonizing inch slithered where the issue of size would be approached. Her body convulsed to his members, propelling another as she battered him, hugging him in a deathgrip without truly starting the rhythm up.

" ...T...tiighhhhhttttttt............FFITTTT!!!"

He groaned again as inch four prowled onto her abdomen, sunken and given no mercy as the course of draining the toxins out going to mean adjusting her form to him appropirately.

 

[Xanaphia]

The first inch was the most agonizing. Just the bulbous head, splitting her open, guided by her wetness to drive past the tightness. She struggled wildly against the clones holding her down, the agony of her broken arm competing with the agony of her ripped open cunt. More and more he pushed into, flesh giving way to his immense organ and superior strength. She tried to hold back her cries, gasping, straining, biting her lip so hard it bled. Another inch, and it was all in vain, screaming her agony into the night, crimson blood drooling down her chin. It was barely a third of him within her, and she felt as if she were being stretched to her limits.

There was little doubt she would tear as he fucked her, her body pushed to the limits of what she could take. She couldn’t get wetter, couldn’t stretch further, couldn’t spread her legs wider. He would have her, and her body would find a way to accommodate him. He pushed forward, as she felt the flesh retreat, opening to him whether she liked it or not. She would always be scarred by his incursion into her, the proof of her violation etched into her skin.

“Please…” she sobbed, “I can’t take anymore. It’s not going to fit in me.”