Boycott US

The hands slowly travel forward, traced the spongy arms, past the Punisher patch Agent Ross bought in bulk, with a playful but commanding tickle he feels even through his heavy Minnesota-winter coat.

But it wasn't the weather that makes Agent Ross shiver as the instructor, his ample belly pressing close against his back, whispers in his ear, "Looks like you missed our little bundle of joy there, agent. Now how do you think Kristi would feel about that?"

"N... Not too good," Agent Ross stammers, the closeness he had been imagining for weeks clouding his brain.

"That's right, worm - and here they told me your IQ made you a walking vegetable, you just keep right on surprising me," the instructor breathes. "Well don't get cocky now, Daddy still needs his martial law. And how do you think we get there, agent? What's going to get those libs rioting in the street?"

The feeling of the instructor's domination is exactly like his fantasy. Yes! This is why he joined ICE. He realizes he hasn't felt this happy since he found his wife in bed with his best friend.

"L... Leave no survivors, sir?" Agent Ross knows he should have sounded more confident, but it takes everything just to get the words out.

"That's right, agent. Now let papa help you," the instructor coos as his hands cover Agent Ross's and their dappled cheeks press together to line up the sights. Together their uncalloused, pudgy fingertips barely squeeze under the trigger guard, and they fire a single shot through the target baby's head. "Now there's our hero. See, that wasn't so hard. One less NPC. Don't forget to flee the scene, those animals can get rowdy after. Now let's see if that flapping meat hole of yours can take as good as it gi-"

... Is basically how imagine their training went.