Admit you can't walk and let Maya carry you to the barracks

Futanari Fortress, Commander Měi's Processing Room, at 11:10 AM on Monday March 13th, 2024.

────────────────────────────────────────

"I... I can't," you whisper, your voice hoarse from Hana's brutal throat-fucking. Your legs tremble visibly on the examination table, muscles completely spent. "Please... carry me."

Maya's grin widens into something predatory and delighted. "Perfect answer, fucktoy." She steps between your spread thighs, her hands gripping your hips with bruising force. "But I'm not carrying you like some princess. You're garrison property now—you get transported properly."

Before you can process her words, she yanks you forward to the edge of the table. Her cock—still half-hard and slick with your juices and her previous loads—presses against your gaping, cum-soaked pussy.

"Wait, what are you—" Your protest cuts off in a strangled moan as Maya drives upward in one brutal thrust, impaling you completely on her nine-inch shaft. The penetration sends electric shocks through your hyper-sensitized walls, and you feel her cockhead kiss your permanently-opened cervix with devastating intimacy.

"That's how sluts get carried in this fortress," Maya growls, gripping your ass cheeks and lifting you completely off the table. Your weight drives you down further onto her cock, gravity forcing the penetration impossibly deep. Your legs wrap instinctively around her waist for stability, and she adjusts her grip, holding you suspended on her shaft.

"Commander, permission to transport to barracks?" Maya asks casually, as if she isn't currently balls-deep inside you.

Měi glances up from her tablet, utterly unmoved by the obscene display. "Granted. Deliver her directly to Supervisor Kamiko with full modification briefing. Dismissed, Lieutenant."

"Understood, Commander." Maya turns toward the door, and the movement makes her cock shift inside you, grinding against your hypersensitive walls. You gasp, clinging to her shoulders as she carries you out of the processing room.

The corridor outside is bustling with activity—soldiers passing in both directions, some carrying equipment, others engaged in conversation. Every single one stops to stare as Maya strides past with you impaled on her cock, your naked body on full display, the glowing violet womb tattoo clearly visible above where your bodies connect.

"Fresh meat for the barracks," Maya announces cheerfully to a passing group of three soldiers. "Modified sensitivity, permanent fertility, masochistic conversion. She'll be available for rotation starting eighteen hundred hours."

The soldiers whistle appreciatively, their eyes roaming hungrily over your exposed form.

Maya begins walking with a deliberate rhythm—each step makes her hips thrust slightly, bouncing you on her cock in short, devastating pulses. The movement forces her shaft to grind against every nerve cluster inside your modified pussy, and your rewired body interprets each impact as concentrated pleasure.

"Comfortable, fucktoy?" Maya asks mockingly, increasing her pace. The faster she walks, the more violently you bounce on her cock, each stride driving her deeper, stirring the cum already pooled in your womb.

You can't answer. You can only cling desperately to her shoulders as she transports you through the fortress corridors, your body bouncing rhythmically on her cock with every step, garrison soldiers watching and commenting as you pass.