Ethan’s laugh echoed in the office, a sound of pure chaos. He looked at the two guards, their faces a twisted mask of confusion, rage, and a dark, dawning lust.
"So? Are you going to fuck her or not?" Ethan taunted, gesturing to the trembling form of Director Hayes on the floor. "Don’t tell you’re scared."
The two guards, Miller and Jones, looked at each other. The unspoken question passed between them, a lifeti of shared misery under this woman’s heel answering for them. Miller, a thick-necked brute with a cruel scar bisecting his eyebrow, was the first to move. He spat on the floor. Jones, younger but with eyes just as cold, followed his lead. Their hesitation evaporated, replaced by a predatory grimace.
"Have fun, boys," Ethan cackled, his voice fading as he turned. He snatched the full bottle of whiskey from her desk, took a long, deep swig, and walked out of the office, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving them to their gift from heaven.
The mont the door clicked shut, the pretense of humanity was gone. They were on Hayes in a second. She was still dazed, her eyes unfocused, her face and chest a sticky, cooling canvas of Ethan’s cum. She didn’t even resist as Miller grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her knees. Jones was already tearing at his own belt, his pants pooling around his ankles. His dick, thick and veined and already hard, jutted out obscenely.
"You’ve been a real cunt to us, Director," Miller snarled, his voice thick with years of resentnt. He forced his own, equally hard cock into her mouth. "A real fucking ice queen. Making us work double shifts, writing us up for breathing wrong. Well, look at you now."
Hayes gagged as Miller shoved himself deep, his pubic bone grinding against her nose. Her hands flew up to his thighs, trying to push away, but it was useless. Jones, anwhile, knelt behind her. He wasted no ti on foreplay. He spat on his hand, sared the spit on his already slick cock, and with one brutal lunge, buried himself balls-deep in her cunt. She was still wet and stretched from Ethan, and he slid in with a wet, vulgar sound.
"Fuck yeah!" Jones groaned, gripping her hips so hard his knuckles were white. He began to piston into her, each thrust a punishing slam that drove her forward, forcing Miller’s dick even deeper down her throat. "Tight fucking pussy for an old bitch."
They used her like a piece of at, a ragdoll for their combined fury. There was no rhythm, no coordination, just two n taking out years of frustration on one willing, broken body.
"This is for that ti you put in the hole for a month!" Miller roared, pulling out just enough to let her gasp for air before shoving back in. He grabbed her head, fucking her face with abandon, his balls slapping against her chin. "You liked having power, didn’t you? You like this power?"
Jones was a demon behind her, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Each thrust was punctuated by a grunt and a sharp, stinging slap on her ass. "And this is for my brother, you fucking whore! You got him sent up for ten years because he looked at you wrong!" he scread, his voice cracking with rage. He reached around, his rough fingers digging into her clit, rubbing it viciously, not for her pleasure, but to inflict more sensation, to overwhelm her completely.
Hayes was nothing but a conduit for their abuse. Her mind was gone, shattered into a million pieces. The world was reduced to the taste of sweat and precum, the feeling of a thick cock choking her, and the brutal, relentless pounding in her raw, aching cunt. The sounds were wet and disgusting: the squelch of Jones’s dick in her cum-filled pussy, the gagging retches from her throat, the aty slap of skin on skin, and the constant, venomous stream of verbal filth from the two n using her.
"Take it! Take it all, you fucking bitch!" Miller yelled.
"Gonna fill you up! Gonna pump this cunt full of my cum!" Jones grunted.
They weren’t fucking a person anymore; they were fucking a symbol, an effigy of every injustice, every long night, every mont of powerless rage they had ever endured. And as they both found their release, one filling her mouth with a bitter, salty load that she choked on, the other flooding her battered cunt with his own hot seed, they finally felt a asure of peace. They pulled out, leaving her in a heap on the floor, a broken, cum-soaked ss, and for the first ti in years, the warden’s office was completely silent.
Ethan walked back toward his cell block, the heavy bottle of Macallan dangling from his hand. He took long, deep swigs as he moved. Guards watched him from a distance, their expressions a mixture of terror and utter confusion, but none dared to intervene. The man who had single-handedly started a riot and disappeared into the Warden’s office only to return free and drunk was not soone they wanted to confront.
"You’re awfully quiet," Ethan murmured ntally to the System, taking another swig. "I thought you’d at least congratulate for everything we did back there with the Director."
[You have grown, Champion,] the System replied, its voice calm. [I believe you don’t need so much intervention anymore. I enjoy watching your progress.]
Ethan raised the bottle high above his head and roared with laughter. "CHEERS!" he yelled, the sound echoing through the cold, empty corridor. He felt manic, euphoric, and utterly untouchable.
[Why are you faking drunkenness?] the System asked. [It’s not as if that cheap liquor could affect you, not with your tabolism.]
"I don’t know, maybe I’m just fed up," Ethan admitted, his voice dropping slightly, the euphoria tainted with cold rage. "I hate being locked up here. If I wanted to, I could kill all these bastards and just walk out, but that would cause too many problems. So, even though I have you with , I’m still just a simple prisoner. Humiliating that bitch is the least I can do to avenge my good friend Jason. How dare those sons of bitches ss with my people."
He took another vengeful drink.
"When I finish off that son of a bitch Vance, he’ll know what’s good for him."
[Yes, yes, finish them all. Leave no one alive,] the System agreed, its tone encouraging the chaos.
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