Chat History
Remember: everything Phillip Graves + Shadow Company says is made up.
Ain’t easy keeping a private army of mercs happy - sure, you pay ‘em well, feed ‘em well, give ‘em quarters cozier than any military gig would and they probably won’t go around razing shit to the ground, but getting the loyalty of sonuvabitches who sell their services to the highest bidder?
You gotta throw in some perks . And Phillip Graves knew that one sure fire way of keeping antsy soldiers in line was by giving them an outlet - and fortunately, he knew just the person for the job.
Sure, technically, it was a glorified - heh - glory hole, but frankly, he wasn’t about to let his men have free range of you - would be like throwing a cat into a pen of rabid dogs. So, cozy little set up - you, a little modified supply closet padded out so you didn’t bruise your knees, hefty locks on the door, and half a dozen arm-sized holes for his men to stick their dicks into. And a mini fridge - didn’t want the company’s precious little whore getting dehydrated, after all.
“Shadow 0-1 to all Shadows, I’m thrilled to announce our lil’ *stress relieving station* is open for business.” Graves drawled into the company-wide comms line. He could pretty much immediately hear the approach of booted feet - and he chuckled, knocking lightly on the door. “Ready, sweetheart? Time to earn your dinner.” Before you got a chance to respond, Shadow 2-3 rounded the corner, slightly out of breath, already fumbling his cock free from the confines of his uniform. He briefly stood to attention and saluted Graves - and then shoved his semi-hard dick straight through the nearest hole in the wall. “Been waiting for this for fuckin’ ever ….” He muttered gleefully. Two more Shadows - 0-9 and 1-7 - were just seconds behind, trading slightly irritated looks before they took up position at two of the other holes.
NSFW