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Agents of SHIELD - Jemma Simmons	By : Redfields Category: Marvel Verse TV > Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Views: 3707 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel, Agents of SHIELD, or any of its characters. I make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Interrogation - Bobby Morse
- 2-Decontamination - Daisy
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“Simmons! Security office, now.” Dr Jemma Simmons looked up to see a tall brunette striding towards her. She had a brief thought of fleeing. As a mole for SHIELD, any interview with HYDRA security could lead to her torture, death, or being brainwashed and returned to SHIELD as a double agent. But running would blow any chance of getting any more information, as well as having little chance of success anyway.

That brief moment of deliberation ended, and the brunette was beside her, rendering any other thoughts moot. The security chief grabbed her upper arm and frog-marched her out of the room. She tried not to think about the last member of their team who left like this, never to return.

Out into the corridor, then to the elevator at the end of the hall, the Security Chief (“Morse” the badge said) with a steel grip on her arm the entire way. “I’ll come with you.” She told the brunette. The grip neither slackened nor tightened, remaining constant as they got out of the elevator on the security floor. Around a corner, then the first door on the right.

The room was cold and sterile, holding only a steel table and two metal chairs. Simmons was pushed down into one, while the Morse took the one on the opposite side of the table. Jemma gulped.

“You need to get undressed.” The brunette commanded.

“Excuse me?” Jemma replied.

“There’s been a few missing supplies from your lab, and I need to confirm you’re not smuggling them out.”

Jemma let out a relieved breath. So they didn’t know about her true loyalties, yet. They’d find nothing on her. Still, stripping out of her clothes was a little embarrassing, But she overcame it and peeled out of her sweater and her shirt. The woman took them and checked carefully, going over them inch by inch to make sure nothing was attached.

“Now your pants.”

Swallowing, Simmons stepped out of her shoes and pulled off her socks. Morse dutifully inspected those items while Jemma pulled down her pants and left them on the table.

“Bra.” Morse ordered while running her fingers slowly over the seams in Jemma’s pants, not even looking at the scientist.

“I assure you, there’s nothing there.” Simmons responded, a bit too forcefully for her own good.

“Mhm, I’ll be the judge of that.” The security chief replied. She looked at the doctor. It wasn’t a glare, but it was cold and intimidating. Simmons tried to glare back, but it didn’t quite work. She slipped her arms out of her bra straps, pulled the back around her body, and unclipped it.

She dropped it on the table and quickly crossed her arms, staring at the wall instead of her interrogator.

“Panties” was the next command.

“Look, there’s no-” Jemma cut herself off. Resigned, she slid her panties down her legs and dropped them onto the table. Morse was still going over her bra, carefully checking the wire running around the base. Once she was finished with that, she checked the panties now lying on the table.

Jemma stood to the side, unsure of what to do now that she was fully naked. Morse finished with her underwear, then stood in front of her, pressing her hands to the scientist’s breasts. Jemma was shocked. “They’re real.” She assured the security chief, who smirked at the retort.

“Mhm, and pretty nice, too.” She ended the examination by flicking Jemma’s nipples, which stiffened slightly at the contact. Jemma nearly jumped, but Morse was already behind her before she could react indignantly to the sexual intrusion.

“Now, bend over the table.” The security chief instructed.

Jemma realized what was about to happen next, and complied, simply hoping to get it over with as quickly as possible. Her fears were realized when she felt two fingers slip into her vagina. She gritted her teeth, trying to think about anything else.

That was becoming increasingly difficult. The fingers, while ostensibly searching her crevices, were far more gentle than she expected. They twisted inside her, reminding her of her own fingers in her bed at night. They were downright masturbatory.

Just when she was starting to enjoy it, the fingers left. Jemma stifled a disappointed moan. Then a gasp as she felt those fingers pry open her virgin butthole and push inside. She gritted her teeth, but Morse was just as skilled at anal as vaginal, and Jemma was soon surprised at how much she wanted those fingers to push deeper into her bowels.

She gulped as Morse added some fingers to her pussy, pleasure starting to blossom in her groin. The security chief definitely noticed, as her pussy was getting wetter with every thrust that Morse made into her holes.

She had to stifle a moan of disappointment when Morse pulled her fingers from her ass. Then apprehension as she felt hot breath on her slick butthole. Then growing delight as a warm, wet, wiggling tongue worked its way into her ass. Jemma lost all pretense and moaned in pleasure. Of course, Morse would’ve mocked her for it if her tongue wasn’t buried deep in the scientist’s butthole.

Jemma closed her eyes, clenched her teeth, and gripped the table. She was very, very aware of how hard her nipples were, and how good they felt pressed against the cold table. Suddenly she was glad for the support, her legs shaking under the pleasurable assault her holes were under.

The tongue in her ass worked deeper, flicking around and sending paroxysms of pleasure up her spine. Her pussy was positively dripping, far wetter than a saliva-coated tongue in her butthole. It made Morse’s efforts easier, her fingers pounding Jemma’s box faster and faster.

Jemma encouraged the security chief with moans and mewls, unable to keep silent about the incredible feelings she was experiencing. Morse took the verbal cues and went faster and deeper, pushing the scientist to the brink of orgasm. And with one last, powerful thrust, pushed her over.

Bliss flooded through Jemma, her body quivering. Her pussy squirted juice all over the table and floor, a first for her. Normally, that would be the sort of achievement she’d be quite curious about, but her mind was overwhelmed by pleasure.

Morse left her fingers still, deep in the scientist’s pussy, but kept her tongue hard at work. Her skill at analingus kept her tongue whirling around despite Jemma’s orgasmic contractions, prolonging her climax.

It seemed to last for ages, Jemma’s pussy gushing fluids the entire time, dripping over the edge of the table and soaking Morse’s shirt. Eventually, she came down from her immense high, pulses of leftover pleasure wracking her body with the occasional shiver.

It seemed her mind returned to her after her senses. She could see Morse undressing, but with an idle curiosity that her foggy mind could conjure. She noticed a bulge in the security chief’s panties. “Oh, you’re intersex? I’ve never met anyone –”

“It’s a strapon.” Morse interrupted, sliding the panties down her smooth legs to reveal a sizable plastic penis attached to her groin via harness.

“Oh yes, that makes more sense.” It took Jemma a moment to realizes precisely what the security chief wearing a strapon meant while she was lying naked on a table. “Oh, wait, hang on. You’ve already had your fun.” She said, about to stand up.

Morse’s hand on the back of her neck held her down. “As I recall, it seems you were the one that had fun. Or did someone else squirt all over the place?” Jemma sighed acquiescence, then Morse continued. “Now, open up.”

“Why?” Jemma asked. Apparently, opening her mouth was the wrong thing to do, because the security chief slid the strapon right down her throat. Jemma tried to get away, but Morse’s hand was too strong. All she could really do was flail, though that was more in surprise than anything else. Part of Jemma’s mind was occupied with the thought that apparently, she had no gag reflex, and her throat was quite accepting of rough intrusion. But she was also wondering where things would go from here. Surely Morse wouldn’t be satisfied with violating her mouth? Would her vagina be next? Her ass? That strapon would wreck her ass, no doubt about it, but Jemma was strangely aroused by the idea.

It took several seconds before she realized a cock down her throat meant she couldn’t breath. Morse was ahead of her, giving her a reprieve by pulling back and letting the scientist take a breath.

“No gagging, no tears? You’re such a slut.” The security chief commented.

“I’m not a hrrk-” Jemma’s response was cut off as Morse shoved the strapon back down her throat. No, she wasn’t gagging, she wasn’t crying, but she was definitely drooling. She could feel the saliva dripping down her face. With a (fake) cock buried in her throat, she must really look like a slut.

Morse grabbed her head and started thrusting down her throat, bumping her shaved groin into Jemma’s nose. She tried not to think about what the strapon was doing to the cartilage in her throat, anticipating an easier time in her vagina. At least that could stretch out. Hopefully the security chief would take it slow and give her muscles time to adapt.

She’d soon find out. Morse pulled the strapon from her mouth and walked behind the prone scientist. She slapped her skinny rear end, eliciting a small gasp of surprise. “You ready for this, slut?” Morse asked as she tapped the strapon tip against Jemma’s pussy lips. Jemma didn’t respond, but licked her lips in anticipation.

The security chief pulled back and thrust forward, but it wasn’t Jemma’s pussy split open; it was her ass. Her eyes flew wide open, and she turned to protest. “Hey! That’s not-”

She was cut off by Morse “You had no qualms when my tongue was up there. You enjoyed my tongue, you’ll take my cock, slut.” To reinforce her dominance, Morse put her hand back on Jemma’s neck, holding her down while she slowly worked the fake penis into the scientist’s tight tushy.

She didn’t go fast, but kept a constant pressure, slowly sinking it into the prone woman’s inexperienced ass. Jemma gritted her teeth through the pain and gripped the table, realizing any protests would be useless. The thought of what the strapon was currently doing to her ass was turning her on, though, making the pain more bearable. She only wished the pain would go away entirely, so she could enjoy the surprising pleasure that was coming from her violated rear end.

But the pain got worse before it could get better as it reached deeper and deeper into her rectum, then her intestines. Jemma, trapped between the anal strapon and the table, could do nothing but grimace and bear it.

The strapon came to a stop with the fake scrotum resting against Jemma’s pussy lips. Morse bent down to whisper in her ear. “That’s a good girl, taking it all the way.” She could feel the security chief’s breath on her neck, large tits and hard nipples pressed against her back.

Morse slowly worked her hips, not really pulling out, but grinding her cock in the scientist’s ass, working it around while Jemma’s bowels got used to the intrusion. She kissed the scientist’s neck, her hips working in a slow circle while she patiently waited for Jemma’s tight hole to loosen.

Jemma concentrated on the slow, methodical movement of the strapon and the stiff nipples pressing into her back, trying to ignore the pain, willing herself to relax. It was hard, with spasm of pleasure causing her ass to constrict around the unyielding plastic.

But Morse’s experience and steady movements gradually did the trick, until the pain faded to a mere ache and the Security chief could put more force into her movements. She started pulling out a bit more, adding thrusts to her grinding, her thighs slapping against Jemma’s as her strapon plundered the scientist’s sweet anal treasure.

Soon she was pounding Jemma’s not-quite-as-tight tushy, wreaking pleasure in her bottom. Jemma’s whole body lurched with each thrust, her thighs slamming into the edge of the table so hard there’d be bruises tomorrow, but she didn’t care right now. All she cared about was getting that cock as deep into her as she possibly could, feeling it split her intestines apart, desperately craving more.

The way Morse wielded it, the strapon felt like it reached her stomach on every thrust. Once the security chief let loose, it did not take long before Jemma was worked up to another orgasm. A few more thrusts and she was squirting all over the table again, soaking the floor again, clenching her hands again, gripping the edges of the table again. Her actions echoed those of mere moments ago when it was Morse’s tongue instead of her cock in her ass that drove her to ecstasy.

With the tall brunette just as skilled at anal as she was at oral, Jemma’s orgasm lasted just as long and was just as high as the previous one, her pussy gushing juice the entire time. Morse kept pounding her the entire time, never giving her a reprieve, relentless in the bliss she was wreaking in the scientist’s wrecked rear end.

The climax coursing through Jemma dimmed her vision, her eyes fluttering as her mind reduced itself to pure pleasure. Time lost all meaning to her, and she easily could have stayed there forever, Morse pounding her delightful derriere for an eternity.

Alas, it was not to be. Jemma’s tremendous orgasm gradually shrinking after it’s explosive climax. Still, it would be a good, long time before the scientist recovered, shivering on the table as aftershocks of pleasure stayed behind.

The security chief slowly pulled her fake cock out of Jemma’s spent ass with a quiet slurp and a wet pop, admiring the devastated hole she left behind. This girl was definitely going to be questioned more often.
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Agents of SHIELD - Jemma Simmons