Post by Kappa on Nov 13, 2021 5:24:04 GMT
Natasha Romanoff was use to espionage missions gone wrong. It happens, it comes with the profession, but, she always manages to get out. One way or another.
That being said, this particular situation...
"Oh yeah, don't you look sexy in those granny panties?!" Her captor admires the redhead, tied in a chair, wearing nothing but a tan bra and a pair of unflattering, matching bloomers.
Undies, disturbingly enough, that were forced onto her tight, athletic frame.
Her porcelain white skin shining in the artificial lighting. Her surroundings a cold and empty warehouse with a mid 20th century vibe and musky decay.
"You're a sick creep." Natasha glares at the bald man in a white suit with a red tie.
The man chuckles, licking his lips with eyes going up and down the Black Widow's flawless body.
"I've been called worse."
"When the Avengers find me you'll--"
"Be long gone." The Man interrupts his plaything. "Meanwhile, you'll be wondering what a meme is!"
"What are you talking about? I know what a... what a..." Natasha starts to breath heavily, scowling, wrinkles around the sides of her eyes, wrinkles around her lips, and wrinkles on her forehead pronounced by her confusion.
The Man grins devilishly as Natasha's skin thins. The fun has just started!
"What is a meme?" Natasha raises a puzzled brow, the hair thinning as it rises. "It has something to do with the computers, right?"
The man nods.
"Might be a little too modern for ya. Heck, I'd be surprised if you knew who Billie Eilish was!"
"Of course I know who Billie Eilish is!" Natasha insist, her red locks losing its vibrancy as she thinks intently for a brief moment. "She's... she's... um... what is she, on the Disney Channel or something?"
The man laughs.
"That was a good guess. I'll give you that. Still, you're just too out of touch. You probably don't even know what Netflix and Chill means!"
"That's an old one!" Natasha argues, her jowls starting to droop. Hips widened, the fabric of her panties riding upwards, her thighs gaining a good amount of fat with bumpy cellulite from top to bottom. "It's... uh... wait, I know what Netflix is... it... um... wait, what... uh... what does that mean again? Is it slang or something?" Natasha asks as her breast sag low in a mightily plunge down her leathery belly.
The sound of a flipper hitting flab twice.
With age spots forming, a streak of white in her her hair, with blue veins on her meaty thighs, her spongy arms, and mushy neck, she looks absolutely perplexed and not a day under 80.
"What were we talking about?"
The man once again laughs.
"Well, I should get going. Hope you're not one of those grandmas with loose farts she's unable to hear!"
Right on a cue, a big, wet phrap releases from her flabby butt cheeks. The aged woman oblivious to breaking wind.
Oh boy, the avengers were in for a one heck of a ride home!
That being said, this particular situation...
"Oh yeah, don't you look sexy in those granny panties?!" Her captor admires the redhead, tied in a chair, wearing nothing but a tan bra and a pair of unflattering, matching bloomers.
Undies, disturbingly enough, that were forced onto her tight, athletic frame.
Her porcelain white skin shining in the artificial lighting. Her surroundings a cold and empty warehouse with a mid 20th century vibe and musky decay.
"You're a sick creep." Natasha glares at the bald man in a white suit with a red tie.
The man chuckles, licking his lips with eyes going up and down the Black Widow's flawless body.
"I've been called worse."
"When the Avengers find me you'll--"
"Be long gone." The Man interrupts his plaything. "Meanwhile, you'll be wondering what a meme is!"
"What are you talking about? I know what a... what a..." Natasha starts to breath heavily, scowling, wrinkles around the sides of her eyes, wrinkles around her lips, and wrinkles on her forehead pronounced by her confusion.
The Man grins devilishly as Natasha's skin thins. The fun has just started!
"What is a meme?" Natasha raises a puzzled brow, the hair thinning as it rises. "It has something to do with the computers, right?"
The man nods.
"Might be a little too modern for ya. Heck, I'd be surprised if you knew who Billie Eilish was!"
"Of course I know who Billie Eilish is!" Natasha insist, her red locks losing its vibrancy as she thinks intently for a brief moment. "She's... she's... um... what is she, on the Disney Channel or something?"
The man laughs.
"That was a good guess. I'll give you that. Still, you're just too out of touch. You probably don't even know what Netflix and Chill means!"
"That's an old one!" Natasha argues, her jowls starting to droop. Hips widened, the fabric of her panties riding upwards, her thighs gaining a good amount of fat with bumpy cellulite from top to bottom. "It's... uh... wait, I know what Netflix is... it... um... wait, what... uh... what does that mean again? Is it slang or something?" Natasha asks as her breast sag low in a mightily plunge down her leathery belly.
The sound of a flipper hitting flab twice.
With age spots forming, a streak of white in her her hair, with blue veins on her meaty thighs, her spongy arms, and mushy neck, she looks absolutely perplexed and not a day under 80.
"What were we talking about?"
The man once again laughs.
"Well, I should get going. Hope you're not one of those grandmas with loose farts she's unable to hear!"
Right on a cue, a big, wet phrap releases from her flabby butt cheeks. The aged woman oblivious to breaking wind.
Oh boy, the avengers were in for a one heck of a ride home!