“Jewish”

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He frowns a bit in what you think is annoyance. This man’s face is so cool and robotic that it’s hard to read. “The savior’s religion, you are not without hope.” Despite his words his face seems to darken. He’s still pointing his gun at you through, the bullet ready to kill at any minute. If you were to guess, he’s not sure what to do.

“Suck on it.”

Instantly you reach for his trousers.

“The gun you Jewish whore.” You halt and look at him with your deep blue eyes. Cold but quick to anger, this man is unstable. Not wanting to provoke him you take the gun barrel in your mouth. It’s a desert eagle with its shiny silver barrel. Your jaw is spread wide to fit the metal piece, but you suck it as an actual cock, running your tongue along the underside of it while sucking on it. There’s nothing pleasurable about sucking on a metal weapon, the rough edges scratch against the flesh inside your mouth. But what’s genuinely terrifying to know that he might fire at any moment.

The man begins to grunt slightly, as if he were the one to receive the blowjob. You continue to bob your head back and forth along the metal shaft, despite the acing pain from the rough edges scratching your flesh. Panicky sweat begin running down your forehead as his grunts become louder, as if approaching orgasm. What if he fires when he cums? The man is insane enough to do it? Subconsciously you slow down the on the sucking but the man continues moaning louder, and louder, and louder until he’s screaming from pleasure.

“Gyyyaaaaaa!”

With his orgasmic scream the man pulls his gun out of your mouth and fires the guns load at the woman in the veil next to you. Her brain gets blown to pieces as the remains flow out from the bullet hole in her forehead. Her icy, dead eyes wide open. They don’t scare you, you’re only glad to be alive.

The tall man reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet. He retrieves a five dollar bill and throws it at your feet. “Pick up the money Jewish whore.”

You slowly reach out and grab the bill. Satisfied the man spits in your face then leaves, ready to ask the same question to the next hostage.

“The police and press just arrived.” The ruggedly handsome black man says.

“Roger”

“Roger…”

“Okay!”

You could crawl back towards the entrance hopping that somehow being closer to the police might save you, or you could crawl deeper into the bank to follow the two armed women, or just stay here next to the rotting corpse.


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