Creepy Explorations: Volume 1 (Lemon)

SWAT Team

Well, that explains why The Doll Maker bailed.

The little black canister explodes, making the screen go solid white for a split second. A haze of smoke exhales from Noah's body, now knocked clean out on the floor whilst the well-proportioned intruders tactically march in the apartment to reveal they're armed to the teeth with assault rifles and riot armor.

"Clear!"

Two thirds of the SWAT team sweep through the living room to make sure it's secure, treating Noah's cheap rental apartment as some terrorist's hideout, while the remaining one crouches down next to its resident's limp body, so dazed by the explosion of a blinding light and a deafening ring that he's as good as unconscious. She checks his vitals just as her shoulder radio hisses with static.

"Attention all officers!" a crackly female voice alerts from over the walkie-talkie. "A suspicious figure can be seen fleeing from the apartment complex. Most likely the unsub, pursuing immediately, over."

"Shit, I think we might've raided the wrong apartment," the SWAT officer says to her two fellow girls in blue.

"Maybe not," one of them tries to remain optimistic as they begin tucking their firearms away. "This chick could still be an accomplice. They do use the same network after all."

"Pretty sure this is a dude," the policewoman corrects as she picks Noah's head from up off the carpet to brandish his face. "And the perp's network WAS public. There's a chance this is just some poor bastard who logged into the wrong Wi-Fi."

They look to your left, the laptop screen, and notice Noah's been on The Shadow Portal.

"No way. He's a Shadow Web lurker. This is our guy, one of them, at least."

"I dunno. You know how popular the big bad Deep Web is with stupid kids these days."

"I don't want to embarrass the force and waste time by bringing in another wrong suspect. How about we do some good old fashioned field interrogation to make sure?"

"Sounds like a plan," the third cop says with a hint of sadism in her voice as she kicks the door shut behind her.

Another one scoops a pair of shiny, jangling handcuffs from up off her utility belt and stylishly spins them around her finger before squatting down and slapping them on Noah's wrists behind his back, then yanking his limp body up to its knees by his hood. The manhandling is enough to shake him out of his wispy stupor.

"Ughhh...What...what hap...?" Noah looks up and realizes there's three bulky shadows encircling him. "WHAT THE-!"

The barrel of a slick black M1911 is pressed up against the suspect's forehead, instantly shutting him up.

"We're only doing our jobs," the policewoman says in a low, unfriendly inflection. "If you impede that by drawing any unnecessary attention, we're authorized to apply lethal force." She accents her point by crunching her thumb down on the pistol's hammer. "Understand?"

Noah furiously shakes his head in agreement.

"Good boy. Now do you know why we're here, son?"

"No!" Noah shouts in a whisper-yell. "No, I have no idea!"

"Likely story." She looks up to the cop behind Noah, the one who cuffed him. "Is he carrying anything?"

She answers her partner's question by snapping the flimsy pajama pants off his buttcheeks, leaving them naked and unprotected. She sucks on her index finger and middle finger after snaking them past her balaclava before popping them right in between Noah's asscrack, like a fucked up wet willy. Noah grits his teeth and crosses his eyes, pitifully trying to restrain his own cries as to not anger his interrogators. He squirms the most violently and helplessly you've ever seen him as she makes sure to examine every nook and cranny of his insides. This cavity search makes his penis immediately swell up into an erection gasping for breath underneath his tight pajama pants.

"Oh-ho, getting confident now, are we?" the head cop mocks as she squats down in front of Noah and rips his pants in half with a single mighty tear, leaving him with nothing but his sweatshirt to keep him warm. His hard-on now unprotected, the SWAT officer flicks the fifth guest in the room so it jiggles like a doorstopper, making him cringe like crazy. "Maybe playing good cop instead will get you to talk?"

She starts teasing his cock like an owner would their pet, scratching the underside of his veiny shaft with two of her fingers in the same way her partner fingers him in the meanwhile. The third soldier watches from mostly off-screen, with her arms crossed and lips likely curled into a demented smile behind her ski-mask.

"I-I don't kn-know anything!" Noah swears, the boy's resistant and squirmy body language only amplified by tenfold now that he's being played with from the front and the back.

"Is that so? Lemme get this straight then. It just so happens that you're browsing the Shadow Web, on the HiddenNetwork, at the same apartment complex a notorious Deep Web hacker we've been tracking for weeks is hiding out at?"

"Yes!" he squeaks, following speech barely comprehensible thanks to the shuddery shakiness racking his body from all sides. "Notorious hacker?! I have n-no idea what you're tAlking about! I'm only st-stAying in New York for a couple of days to visit my AUNT! I didn't even rent this apartment, my parents dId! They're out for the night, I swEAr!"

"Hang on, I'm feeling something!" the 'inspector' alerts her team, scratching whatever unseen oddity is amid Noah's rectum. "Wait, false alarm, that's just his prostate."

At this point, tears are literally boiling in both his eyes as he desperately tries stifling his own screams, before finally his devastating nirvana comes bursting out his mouth like the water of a busted dam. The echoes don't get very far, however, as the third SWAT grunt finally jumps into the gangrape-pretending-to-be-an-interrogation and gags him with her pubic mound, grabbing Noah by the back of the hair and burying his face into her crotch, the lap of her black cargo pants soaked with wetness accumulated over watching this sick police brutality unfold. She digs her thumb past her waistband and pries her sticky pants open ever so slightly, just so her shaved bulge can be unleashed to stuff Noah's mouth with and silence his immodest calls.

"I think he's clean, ma'am!" the analyst (heh) concludes, though that certainly doesn't mean the end of her inspection any time soon.

The sensations of a woman's groin leaking down his throat, a playful handjob, and a thorough cavity search all at once mix together into a cocktail of heaven that comes gushing out Noah's penis in four thick ropes of white, all over the head officer's lap.

She gapes in disgust at the mess on her legs before firing up and ripping her M1911 from its holster, putting it back to Noah's forehead. "You little scumbag! I don't even care if you're the perp or not now, give me one good reason why I shouldn't-"

"Attention all officers!" another transmission from the department interrupts through the radios. "We have the unsub cornered at a convenience store but it's turned into a hostage situation. We need backup, over!"

The SWAT leader sighs as she pockets her pistol. "You got lucky, kid," she warns while slinging the G36K off her back and hurrying for the doorway.

Her partners-in-crime quickly pack up too.

"Hey wait," the cavity searcher halts whilst shedding Noah of his silver restraints and noticing you: the camera mounted on their victim's desk. "This kid's been recording all this! That's probably why he was on the Deep Web, just like that one Indian on YouTube. What do you want me to do with this camera?"

"Just leave it alone. American cops have gotten away with doing way worse on camera."

"Got it."

Noah is left alone in the center of his living room, dog-tired, humiliated, and bottomless. After rubbing his bruised wrists and coughing up some vaginal lube, he crawls towards you and pulls himself up by his desk, freeing you from your stand as he pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut.

"This night..." he puffs, "literally could not get any worse!"

There's a knock at the door.