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Summary
“T-This is a rather compromising position. Say, what do we say we take five? Get something to drink, you know…”
Apparently, the monster wasn’t in a joking mood and rather abruptly decided to strip him of his pants, leaving him in his uniform and boxers. He couldn’t move. Actually, he couldn’t do anything at all, really. The iron grip the walking trenchcoat had on him was incredibly efficient. There was no point in arching to readjust his back because any kind of movement was rendered useless.
“Straight to the point? Okay, that’s fine. Totally fine,” Leon stammered on, debating what the next move would be. Honestly, he’d take being dicked down by some behemoth than dying because he was too scared shitless to turn on the fucking light. Any chance of escaping this hellish city was good for him as long as he’d be in one piece. “Say, you’re just tall and huge for show, right?”
No response, as usual, just some rather odd-sounding grunts.
“H-Hey! You got to buy me dinner first before—holy shit.”
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Leon gets fucked brutally by the tyrant after forgetting to turn on the lights in the red safe room. Why would turning on the lights in there have any significance?