Claire's eyes remain fixated on her perpetrator, her pupils shrunken in fear. Her nostrils flare up as they become the sole passage for air into her quickly paling body. The lackey, on the other hand, is still busy at work easing his rifle deeper and deeper into her sex, the efforts of which folds her leg up higher and higher on her body to the point where her knee brushes against the cold floor of the alleyway and arches her rear up above her torso. The pumping of the gun's barrel stirs against her pussy like a pot of mac and cheese with very similar sounds, making Claire's eyes roll back against her wishes. Her stifled moans are muffled and reverberate up the foregrip of hunks weapon lodged well into her neck now, her breath and breasts swaying with each gulp of oxygen. Through the lewd squelching, Hunk's underling speaks up.
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"Hey boss, I don't think I'm reaching deep enough in there, mind hoisting her up real quick?"

Hunk gestures with his head and slides his rifle out of Claire's mouth. She breathes, relieved of her airway obstruction. The other gun in her privates also comes out of her other hole, slick and shiny with her fluids against the darkness of the night.

Claire's breathing doesn't remain unobstructed for long however, as Hunk gets a grip of her neck and lifts her up, her toes dangling inches off the ground.

Her panic begins anew, her hands fighting against the one holding her hostage. She chokes, struggling to stay conscious. She doesn't struggle for long as the underling reorients his grip on his rifle and drives it back into Claire's depths, sending a shock through her body again. The shock isn't terrible as the metal was still warm with her body heat, but a new sensation arrives at her senses: pain. The lackey heaves the metal gun against her, digging into her inner flesh. Claire sputters with each push against her, until a muted pop sounds out inside her and her left eye erupts in a jet of blood.