Thread: Undercover: Adventuregurl! and Sweetnothings

The hell is she getting here?! Smokey asked the same question for what had to have been the sixth time in half an hour. She was expertly switching between a cigarette in one hand, and the joint she was sharing with Dyne while the two played cards. There was no central theme of the Splitters, in fact one could say a lack of theme was their theme. Everyone who joined was a member, no matter what color they wore on the outside. Dyne embodied this with her tight, muscular, but lithe physique at six feet tall. She had deep scarlet hair, dread-locked into several dozen wrist-thick lengths that went down to her ass. Her face had an assortment of piercings ranging from a big bull-ring to seven studs beneath each eye. She wore heavy black makeup that could be considered goth, combined with a tight black a-shirt and baggy black bondage pants, it really sealed the look. Boss just called. Says they had a mix up with our operator. She'll be here any second...and get this, the new operator is a first timer! Sascha spoke up from standing watch at the door to their current base of operations, her heavy Russian accent shining through. They were set up in a warehouse in the lower industrial quarter, which suited them as they didn't get a lot of civilian traffic. The three were waiting outside, in a small fenced in clearing that lead to the warehouse docks. Hell yeah! Fucking tired of waiting on this bitch anyways. Might as well pop her cherry nice and rough! Dyne said as she threw her cards down. The rest of the gang was inside, waiting. Even though on the outside it looked like any other run-down warehouse in any other shitty district of the city, the inside was a very different story. The Splitters had been successful, and with a little backing from the right sources, they'd turned the interior of the building into a veritable palace. Of course nothing any nobility would be visiting, but as far as they were concerned it was heaven. The office spaces had been renovated into lavish bedrooms for the gangmembers, while the factory floor had been cleared out and partitioned into a series of open lounges. Nearly a football field of space had been filled with pool tables, massive holovision projectors, couches, and stripper poles. The Splitters were fifty-seven strong, and made good use of the space. A large hot tub big enough for twenty people was built straight into the ground in one area near the entrance, with a fully stocked bar right next to it. Hell they even had small robotic barbeque vendor set up in a corner. The robotic attendant had been replaced with an average grade sex-bot they'd named, Stacey, and while not serving up burgers she could usually be found servicing any one of the small army of futanari in the warehouse. Of course the whole place was dimly lit and flooded with smoke from multiple sources, between cigarettes, cannabis, and various other drugs, it was a good thing the building was well ventilated. So we gonna have a little fun before we take her inside right? Smokey more stated than asked, as she reclined in her seat, stretching out her toned body, adjusting the bulge in her denim short-shorts. She'd popped not only a Fiagra, essentially Viagra for futanari, but two hits of Ecstasy and she'd been smoking all day. The woman was positively ready to explode if she didn't get her dick sucked sometime soon. I'm down for a little private showing! Dyne said with a hiccup. Dyne had partaken in her fair share of booze over the last few hours, and looked more than limber enough to party.