Jill's eyes watered as Chris roughly thrusted his spewing cock against the walls of her throat.
He grunted at the apex of each barrage, waning on every subsequent stroke.
Like he was getting tired.
Tired…?
He doesn't know the fucking meaning of tired... Jill thought. She'd just been force fed more thick, warm seed. She couldn't even taste anything anymore.
Her initiation into S.T.A.R.S. was rough and distasteful, akin to how she'd been handled by nearly every male in her unit. Sweat and semen pooled on the floor beneath her.
She was sitting there, right outside of the office, on a metal bench wearing nothing but a pair of cotton panties. They had the "S.T.A.R.S." insignia on the front and "Bravo Team" along the back. The bench dug into her thighs and ripped her underwear as she would fidget and squirm when a member would come over to fuck her face. Her cuffed hand was blueish-white from the lack of circulation. She had to look to remember it existed.
Her face was hot. Each breath was heavy and burdened. And she was messy.
She was very messy.
Chris drifted off with a big smile as he zipped his pants and groaned a lighthearted "Thanks". He nodded at Wesker as they passed each other in the hall. Wesker was the only team member yet to have taken his turn on her.
Wesker.
Her heart raced and pumped boiling hot blood at the sight of him. His walk was a glide... he cut a path through space with each step. His slick blonde hair didn't move, and he was never seen without his "ass-kicking accessories", as Jill called the shades and gloves he wore.
Jill was exhausted, but swore she had enough strength to bash his skull against the wall before she passed out.
"Newbie..." he spoke in a dull, overbearing tone, "...how's it going? You... thirsty?" He grinned. She grit her teeth so hard she could barely hear what else he was saying.
"No? Well, you look thirsty, Jill. I'm sure someone back in the office has something for you to lap up, little kitty." The contempt in his voice was nauseating. He was bent over her, whispering directly into her ear, "Welcome to S.T.A.R.S., whore."
It felt like her chest exploded. She choked out a weak yelp and let a single tear escape, where it rolled down her cheek and dripped into the sour concoction of fluids beneath her.
She looked at him as he walked away, the whole world turning into a blurry mix of uneven shapes and colors in front of her. Quickly, she wiped her eyes with her free hand, then started hitting herself on the thigh.
Why him!?
Fucking Wesker, of all people...
She clenched her fist and looked down. She was sore and uncomfortable. She was angry.
And her cute, white cotton panties were soaking wet.