Game on
Chapter 12: jailbird
"Tucker! Thank goodness you picked up, you… gotta… ah! Help… me!" Jazz's voice came through the phone, breathy and erotic. Tucker could tell by her tone that she was in the middle of something. He signs knowing that she couldn't keep her legs close not even during whatever emergency she was in.
"What's up Jazz? You sound pretty worked up," Tucker replied, trying to keep his mind out of the gutter as he leans against his motorcycle.
"It's Johnny 13. Cops picked him up for whizzing on the sidewalk. I need you to bust him out!" Jazz pleaded between gasps and moans. Tucker sighed heavily. Johnny 13 getting arrested for public indecency again? Typical.
"Can't you just bail him out or something? I got my own problems."- Tucker replied wondering he could skip a few of the minor missions.
"No way, man! Peeing in public is a federal crime. They're gonna throw the book at him! Please Tucker, you're my only hope!" Jazz begged, her voice rising in pitch as loud slapping could be heard on the other side followed by a loud and lustful yell, the line went silent.
"Fine, I guess."- Tucker replied before hanging up. The request notification pinged in front of him and he groaned. -"Bust Johnny 13 out of the clink, huh? This ought to be good..."
Tucker hopped on his motorcycle and sped off towards the police station, ignoring the red lights and stop signs. They were just for decoration in this town anyway. The STD police station loomed before Tucker, an imposing structure with a garish red neon sign that seemed more fitting for a seedy brothel than an upstanding law enforcement facility. As he parked his motorcycle alongside the building, the GPS pinging its final destination, Tucker spotted none other than Dash and Kwan waiting for him. The two teens were dressed in their typical douchebag attire, tight-fitting polo shirts, designer sunglasses, and expensive-looking watches glinting in the harsh neon light complemented with their red letterman jackets that seemed to be superglue to them.
Yet somehow, their real-life counterparts seemed softer, less defined by sharp angles, rigid postures and far less muscles than their video game counterparts. Dash flashed a cocky grin, looking every bit the arrogant rich kid playboy. Though Tucker wasn't sure if the real Dash Baxter was rich, he didn't seem to struggle for cash even if he did beat them out of their lunch money once in a while.
"About time you showed up, geek." Dash called out, flicking his blond hair off his forehead.
"The hell are you doing, Baxter?"- Tucker as he came closer to the police station.
"Jazz sent for me, man. Seemed to think you might need a hand busting out her precious boyfriend." He jerked his head toward an open window on the second floor. "That's our way in, if you're still up for this."- the jock added with a playful smirk.
Tucker grit his teeth, fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to contain the seething rage that threatened to consume him whole. The vivid mental image of Jazz naked and writhing in ecstasy beneath Dash's muscular body filled him with a white-hot fury. Despite everything, Dash had still gone ahead and claimed her as his, fucking her Monday to Sunday without a care in the world, filling her up like a water balloon. The thought made Tucker's blood boil with impotent rage. But even as he seethed with jealousy and anger, a small part of Tucker couldn't help but feel a twinge of humiliation. Here he was, about to risk his life and limb for a girl who half of Amity Park seemed to be nailing every single night. It made him feel like a complete and utter simp, a pathetic little lapdog chasing after his master's scraps like a good boy. Tucker pushed aside his doubts and fears, focusing all his energy on the task at hand. He was a man on a mission.
"Once we get the pretty boy out, I'm gonna nail Jazz's sweet little cunt so hard she going to forget her own name." Dash smirked, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "Gotta give it to the girl, know how to work a man real good."- the jock continued.
"Mental note, shoot him."- Tucker muttered as he approached the window.
As Tucker followed Dash Baxter through the window into the police station, his heart raced with adrenaline. He had to be quick and precise, like a ninja. Once inside, he spotted Kwan waiting by the corner, all business as usual. Tucker immediately activated stealth mode, the indicator flickering to life in the corner of his vision. He surveyed the scene before him, taking in the cavernous hallways that stretched out like a labyrinth before him. The air felt electric, charged with the weight of their mission. Tucker's gaze drifted to the walls, where posters screamed out warnings
"Just because it feels good doesn't mean it's right." Tucker scoffed silently as he read the posters.
On the opposite wall, the mugshots of perverts glared down at him, their lecherous smirks seeming to follow him as he moved, their terrible crimes listed underneath their pictures, voyeurism, illegal anal sex and other heinous crimes that had them being chase by the law. But Tucker paid them no mind. He had a job to do, and he would see it through to the end, consequences be damned. The first order of business was to find the holding cells. He knew they had to be underground, away from prying eyes.
Tucker couldn't quite fathom the bizarre priorities of the Amity Park police department, which seemed to be pouring money into stopping illegal sexual activities while turning a deaf ear to actual crime, like the many time times he had engaged in multiple shootouts without so much as a siren blaring in the distance. It was as if the local law enforcement had suddenly declared war on lust, deploying armored personnel carriers and heavily armed officers with orders to shoot to kill over a few illicit encounters, while he, a once law-abiding citizen and now an unlicensed "adventurer," found himself constantly bewildered. He had scoured the city searching for brothels and hookers but not a single one was in sight; it would have made his adventure a lot easier.
"And he said he had an 8-inch dick but he didn't"- Tucker stopped upon hearing voices.
A group of STD cops was standing directly in his path, making it impossible to sneak by without being noticed. Undeterred, Tucker pulled out his trusty tablet and called upon Dash to assist. Selecting Dash and activating his "Douchebag" skill, Tucker watched in amusement as the braindead jock moved stealthily towards the unsuspecting officers. With a mischievous glint in his eye, Dash sidled up to the first cop, a formidable-looking female officer with tits bigger than her head, and swiftly wedgied her, yanking her thong up as high as it would go and slide it over her head. The cop let out a startled yelp, her face turning beet red with embarrassment. But Dash wasn't finished yet. With a sly grin, he let out an enormous fart, so loud and pungent that it seemed to reverberate through the very air itself.
The cops instinctively waved their hands over their faces as if they had been doused with pepper spray, coughing and sputtering. Seizing the opportunity, they charged after Dash, their movements clumsy and awkward in their distress. Dash took off running, darting between the cops' legs and leaping over obstacles with surprising agility. Tucker couldn't help but chuckle at the absurd sight. He casually strolled through the now-empty corridor, but not without collecting the weapons and money the cops had dropped in their haste to pursue Dash. The lack of a health bar for Dash Baxter told Tucker that he was reusable.
Glancing over his shoulder, Tucker saw Dash getting acquainted with the beautiful art of police brutality. The cops' movements seemed unassuming and girly almost as if they didn't want to hurt him, though the beating they were giving Dash was anything but. The other cop's thong was still wedgied up over her head, a comical sight that made Tucker guffaw out loud. Shaking his head in amusement, he continued on his way leaving Dash without a second thought.
"Holding cells."- Tucker read with bemusement.
Tucker slinked down the near empty hallway, his eyes darting nervously towards the security cameras perched ominously overhead. He knew every step was a calculated risk, but his resolve remained steadfast. If he raises an alarm, it would be a bloodbath again. As he drew closer to the door leading to the holding cells, Tucker's heart sank. Two stern-faced policewomen walked up the stair, one blonde and the other a brunette, their huge breasts bouncing with each step, the teen growled as he realized they were now standing at the stairs preventing him from moving any closer, their arms crossed and eyes narrowed in suspicion. Tucker cursed under his breath. He had to think fast.
Glancing down at his trusty tablet, Tucker rapidly flicked through the options until he landed on Kwan's profile. Tucker then selected the Asian jock and activated his "Charm" skill, Tucker held his breath. The large and imposing jock then marched towards the officers; a confident smirk plastered across his handsome face. The Asian jock sauntered up to the dumbfounded officers, an unmistakable bulge forming in his pants. Tucker was almost certain, the real Kwan was by no means that confident, he was always looking for attention and acceptance, he recalled a time that he was about to turn into a goth right after being kicked out of the A-list.
"Excuse me ladies,"- Kwan purred, his voice dripping with seduction. "But I have a rather... sizeable... problem. Do you think you could help me out? I'm not sure if it'll fit." Before Tucker's disbelieving eyes, Kwan whipped out his enormous cock. Tucker facepalmed himself.
The policewomen gasped, their resolve crumbling like a house of cards. To Tucker's utter shock, the sultry officers immediately dropped to their knees, wrapping their plump, glistening lips around Kwan's girthy shaft and sucking him off with gusto, their huge breasts bouncing and saliva dripping down their chins with each bob of their heads. Kwan let out a guttural moan, grabbing fistfuls of their silky manes and guiding their mouths up and down his thick pole as they slurped and sucked with wild abandon, their hungry eyes locked onto Tucker's. The young man gaped in awe, his own member throbbing and leaking precum at the erotic sight before him as the buxom beauties went to town on Kwan's cock like a pair of expert fellatio sluts, their muffled moans vibrating around his manhood, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through his body.
"What the actual fuck?!" Tucker spluttered, staring at the lewd scene unfolding before him. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy."- Tucker uttered.
The teen watched, enraptured, as the blonde policewoman deepthroated Kwan to the hilt, her nose nestling in his wiry pubes, before the brunette policewoman took over, rolling her tongue around the swollen purple head before swallowing him whole, her throat bulging obscenely. The wet, filthy sounds of sloshing, slurping and gagging filled the room as the policewomen serviced Kwan with the wanton lust and ravenous hunger of a pair of cock-starved whore, right there in front of the flabbergasted Tucker, who couldn't tear his eyes away from the outrageous scene for all the money in the world. Shaking his head, Tucker knew he had to act fast. While the guards were thusly... distracted.
"So much for stopping illegal sexual activities."- Tucker muttered.
Tucker made his way down the stair and into the holding cells, his eyes darting all over the place making sure to avoid cops and cameras alike. The dim fluorescent lighting flickered above, casting eerie shadows on the gray concrete walls. The putrid smell of stale beer and desperation hung heavy in the air. Tucker's heart pounded in his chest as. He turned around and saw both jocks were already behind him, grinning like the idiotic meatheads they were. Tucker rolled his eyes and looked at the booth in front of him where two STD cops were lounging around. Tucker used Dash and Kwan once more, sending them to the office where two STD cops were standing around. The boys walked in, putting on their best lothario act.
"Damn ladies, looks like the police department is hiring some seriously sexy recruits these days!"- Dash said as he took of his jacket.
"Yeah, maybe you wanna arrest us for having these huge guns..."- Kwan flexed his impressive biceps suggestively.
"Maybe we could start by checking out this cannon."- the female officer replied grabbing Kwan's crotch.
Tucker's jaw dropped to the floor in utter disbelief as he peered through the booth's window and witnessed a scene straight out of a cheap porno. There was Dash Baxter balls deep in the STD police officer he had just met mere minutes ago. Bent over the desk beside them was other police officer, squealing like a pig while Kwan plowed her from behind. They were all fucking like a pack of rabbits in heat. Had Tucker tried the same flirtatious lines in the real world, he would have gotten smacked across the face for his troubles. Tucker knew it was all part of the game's mechanics but somehow felt that Dash and his cohort wouldn't have much trouble convincing random girls to spread their legs for them.
Tucker used the perfect distraction to slip into office while the foursome was taking place. He headed straight for the desk, rifling through the drawers until he found the cell keys. With a victorious "cha-ching!" Tucker grabbed the ring of keys and slipped back out, careful not to make a sound over the cacophony of grunting, howling and moaning coming from horny cops and jocks. He made his way down to the holding cells further down the dimly lit hallway, a spring in his step. Johnny 13 was being held in the last cell at the end of the corridor. Tucker could see the notorious biker slouched on the cot, thinning hair sticking up in every direction. He sauntered up and jangled the keys.
"Hey there, jailbird," Tucker drawled. "Ready to bust out of this joint?"-Johnny 13 looked up, a slow smile spreading across his weathered face.
"Hell yeah, son."- the biker replied.
Tucker unlocked the cell with a loud clank, the heavy iron bar door sliding open slowly, making a ruckus that echoed through the dimly lit hallway. The sound reverberated off the cold, grey concrete walls, startling a few restless rodents who had been scavenging for crumbs in the shadows. Johnny 13 swaggered out; a smug grin plastered on his unshaven face. His razor-sharp cheekbones were accentuated by bruise-colored eye circles; a side effect of his poor sleep habits. Johnny pulled his tattered green trench coat tight around his shoulders and flashed a lopsided smile at Tucker, revealing a livid gap where his front tooth used to be before a rambunctious cellmate got a little too aggressive with his prison cell pranks.
"Thanks for comin' to bust me out, Tucker,"- Johnny expressed, slapping his rescuer on the back. "I knew my favorite little cumdump would send her best man to get me."- the biker added with a smirk.
Tucker frowned at the derogatory slur aimed at the girl who had orchestrated this dangerous jailbreak, one mistake and it will be another gunfight, one that he was starting to get tire off. Despite all Jazz's questionable lifestyle choices and illicit dealings with unsavory characters like Johnny 13, she still had a certain vulnerable charm. But Tucker bit his tongue, knowing now wasn't the time or place to lecture about bigoted language. Tucker looked down the hallway expecting the police to come charging through but none could be seen.
"Jazz has an extraction plan ready. A friend of hers is waiting with a getaway car."- Tucker informed Johnny after seeing the notification pop up in front of him with similar information.
Johnny's lips curled into a sneer. "Friend, huh? I bet I know exactly what kinda 'friend' Jazz sent, probably some big dick dumbass."- the biker replied with smirk.
Both teens then crept stealthily through the dimly lit corridor, the clanging of metal bars and muffled moans from the office further ahead still echoing in their ears, Tucker's eyes darted nervously around the shadowy hallway. Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps made them both freeze in their tracks. Tucker's heart raced as he pulled out his laser gun wondering if this was the part where the gunfight broke out, but let out a sigh of relief as he spotted Dash and Kwan emerging from the office, a wicked glint in their eyes.
As the four cohorts reunited, barely containing their giddy excitement, Tucker felt a twinge of jealousy pang through his chest. Unable to help himself, he glanced through the open office door, his eyes widening at the debauched scene before him. The two female cops lay sprawled out on the floor completely naked, their hair a dangled mess, their faces glowing with post-coital bliss as thick ropes of cum oozed sluggishly from their gaping holes. Tucker felt his cock twitch in his skintight outfit, a flare of envy burning through him at the sight of his "friends'" handiwork. Shaking his head to clear the lustful fog, he turned his attention to the task at hand.
The glowing arrow pointed unwaveringly at a lever, Tucker knew that was his next objective, and marched into the office with a determined stride, ignoring the naked women that lay on the ground, though was disgusted upon grabbing the cum covered level with his gloved hands. With a satisfying click, the heavy metal door swung open like an old PS1 game, spilling sunlight into the old police station. Tucker flashed a triumphant grin as he looked out into the parking lot, they had escaped at last. Tucker didn't fancy stealth missions but had to admit it was a nice change from the constant gunfight that he was involved.
"Come on motherfuckers, let's get out of this joint."- Tucker commanded.
As the four teens burst out of the police station in a mad dash, Tucker couldn't help but wonder if this daring escape was going to end with them being chased down by the law like some scene out of Ghost Theft Auto. But to his utter bewilderment, not a single alarm pierced the night air, it was like they had just casually strolled out instead of breaking a known felon free from the clink. Totally perplexed, Tucker did a double take and that's when he noticed a suspicious looking white van idling curbside, the kind favored by serial killers on every true crime documentary ever made. Slung low in the driver's seat was one massive, muscular black dude, his shaved head glistening in the harsh glare of the street lights.
"Yo, you Jazz's guy?" Tucker called out, halting his escape to get a better look at this seemingly connected fella.
But before homeboy could even get a single word out, a mess of tangled hair and smeared lipstick appeared in the window. Tucker felt the contents of his stomach lurch into his throat when he realized it was Jazz, her jawline glistening with a sheen of spit and cum, her cherry red lips puffy and well-used. The redhead was straight up sucking the driver's dick, right there in the front seat like nobody's business. Even knowing Jazz's proclivities, the casual depravity of it all still made Tucker's gorge rise. He was sure that Jazz most likely got bored of waiting and decided to make the best of her time.
"Uh, hey Jazz,"- Tucker said, trying his best to keep the disgust out of his voice. "Just wanted to let you know, your boyfriend's a free man now thanks to me. You're, uh, welcome."- The teen added.
Before Jazz could utter a single word, the driver put his massive hand over her head pushing her down, forcing her to resume her dick-sucking duties. Tucker could hear Jazz gagging as the massive dick slide down her throat. Unfazed, Johnny slid the side door open revealing the interior of the van, dark and musty, the only light coming from a few flashing red lights and a makeshift bed made of old blankets and ratty pillows. The pungent aroma of stale cigarettes, spilled beer and sex permeated the musty air along with the stench of marijuana. A nightmare had Danny seen it take place.
"Thanks man, I owe you one!" he called out, slamming the door shut behind him. "Yo, pass the bitch!"- Johnny yelled out.
As the van peeled off into the night, Tucker could only shake his head and chuckle softly. Just another day trapped in the game. Tucker noticed he was alone, Dash and Kwan had long vanished leaving behind his motorcycle.
To be continued.