Perfect. This is what he likes to see. Yes, it's a shame that such a proud, majestic creature needs to be humbled like this, but that doesn't mean it isn't a thrill to know that he's got her under his thumb now. Hoskins smirks just slightly, and his fingers spread wider over her breast, boldly feeling out the shape of it, familiarizing himself with his property.
But he shouldn't be wasting time here, because she's still a science experiment, and they're operating on a clock. He wasn't lying when he said he was getting impatient. So Hoskins gets up with a creak from the cot and turns around to spread her legs open again, once more pulling her taut against the chains at her wrists. The feel of her soft breast beneath his palm has him stirred up already, but just to get it going a little more, he rubs her thighs, appreciating how weak and helpless all that lean muscle is to him right now.
Yeah... he's ready. She might not even be as painfully tight as last time, when she's not fighting against the drugs. Hoskins reaches for his belt and opens it up quickly, unbuttoning his pants, too eager for this to bother with playing around anymore -- there's always time for that later--
Suddenly, with the ominous sound of power failing, all the lights in the dungeon go out. A second later, red lights begin to flash from above each cage and the doorway as an alarm sounds from somewhere above them. A female electronic voice speaks with artificial calm overhead.
"Warning: Critical Loss of Power in Primary Generator. Auxiliary Power Redirected to Containment Levels."
Hoskins jerks back, his pants loose and sliding, and he grabs haphazardly at them as he stumbles quickly for the door. Too late: the electronic lock on the cage slams into place, trapping him inside as the red lights strobe in the darkness.
"Shit!" Fumbling, he snatches up the radio from his belt and yells into it. "What the hell is going on?!"
The radio crackles. "--generator's down--"
Hoskins shakes his head furiously. "That's a geothermal generator, it doesn't go down!"
"Somebody--isconnected pipe--broken turbines, the whole things torn to p--"
All Hoskins can do for a second is stare at the radio in his hand through the intermittent flash of red. "What in the--"
HWOOM. The entire compound shakes, rattling the bars of the cages. Someone on the other end of the radio clicks on long enough for frantic shouting to be heard in the background.
"Jesus Chris--armory! Get the hell away from the--s that the goddamn rocket launcher--"
Another explosion rocks the ceiling above them and the cages shudder again. Shock dawns slowly to horror, and Hoskins doesn't even remember to fix his pants as he tries furiously to unlock the cage, prying at the mechanism until he remembers the keys on the back of his belt. He grabs wildly at them but his belt slips under his shaking hands, pants slipping down. "Jesus--!"
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But he shouldn't be wasting time here, because she's still a science experiment, and they're operating on a clock. He wasn't lying when he said he was getting impatient. So Hoskins gets up with a creak from the cot and turns around to spread her legs open again, once more pulling her taut against the chains at her wrists. The feel of her soft breast beneath his palm has him stirred up already, but just to get it going a little more, he rubs her thighs, appreciating how weak and helpless all that lean muscle is to him right now.
Yeah... he's ready. She might not even be as painfully tight as last time, when she's not fighting against the drugs. Hoskins reaches for his belt and opens it up quickly, unbuttoning his pants, too eager for this to bother with playing around anymore -- there's always time for that later--
Suddenly, with the ominous sound of power failing, all the lights in the dungeon go out. A second later, red lights begin to flash from above each cage and the doorway as an alarm sounds from somewhere above them. A female electronic voice speaks with artificial calm overhead.
"Warning: Critical Loss of Power in Primary Generator. Auxiliary Power Redirected to Containment Levels."
Hoskins jerks back, his pants loose and sliding, and he grabs haphazardly at them as he stumbles quickly for the door. Too late: the electronic lock on the cage slams into place, trapping him inside as the red lights strobe in the darkness.
"Shit!" Fumbling, he snatches up the radio from his belt and yells into it. "What the hell is going on?!"
The radio crackles. "--generator's down--"
Hoskins shakes his head furiously. "That's a geothermal generator, it doesn't go down!"
"Somebody--isconnected pipe--broken turbines, the whole things torn to p--"
All Hoskins can do for a second is stare at the radio in his hand through the intermittent flash of red. "What in the--"
HWOOM. The entire compound shakes, rattling the bars of the cages. Someone on the other end of the radio clicks on long enough for frantic shouting to be heard in the background.
"Jesus Chris--armory! Get the hell away from the--s that the goddamn rocket launcher--"
Another explosion rocks the ceiling above them and the cages shudder again. Shock dawns slowly to horror, and Hoskins doesn't even remember to fix his pants as he tries furiously to unlock the cage, prying at the mechanism until he remembers the keys on the back of his belt. He grabs wildly at them but his belt slips under his shaking hands, pants slipping down. "Jesus--!"