Overwatch CFNM: McCree Brandishes His Revolver

Lena Oxton's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in shock as she stared in disbelief as the officer begin to lower McCree’s pants. “I could blink him out of there, no problem! No one would get hurt!” she pleaded into her comms. 

“Look at all those guns trained on him! Even if you manage to dash in there and rescue him, how many people might be hit by a grazed shot?” Fareeha's voice commanded with a strategic and authoritative tone.

"She's right, Tracer., Winston dulceted in agreement, though he sounded pained to do so. "Just make sure this doesn't escalate into something dangerous."

The tiny time-traveler pouted and crossed her armed. She hated when Pharah was right.

Tracer found herself in a helpless position and could only do two things: sit and watch - two tasks she was notoriously terrible at.

And so she sat and watched as his board shorts were briskly drawn to his ankles and manhood was exposed to the entire crowd of onlookers. 

"Oh...wow," she muttered, momentarily forgetting that her comms were live, before quickly covering her mouth with both hands in embarrassment.