Operation Viral Web

Author's Note: For the past several weeks, I've been annoyed with Capcom for deciding that Jill and Claire don't deserve enough respect to be in Resident Evil 6, a game they're showing off as the be-all, end-all most important game in celebrating Resident Evil's anniversary. From that, I decided to write a fic with the idea of how Jill and Claire could have been included in Resident Evil 6. This fic is NOT a proposal of how the games "should" go; it's an adult fanfic, after all. It's only a pornographic take on some ideas Capcom could have used if they cared at all about the series.

 

 

 

Jill groaned. Her eyes fluttered in the harsh, piercing lab lights, hanging above her as she lay against a cold metal slab. The sterile air prickled her nude skin, her nipples cresting high as twin peaks atop her breasts. If not for the lack of alcohol on her breath, and a vague sense of her surroundings, Jill might have mistaken the constant pounding in her head for a nasty hangover after a night-long B.S.A.A. celebration. As she awoke, and her vision cleared, the silhouette of a woman looming over her defined itself. Short black hair hung from the woman's head, traces of a foxy, conniving smile peeking out below cloudy grey eyes.



"I always wanted a pet dog," the mystery woman said, "and now I get to own the biggest bitch of them all."



"Who..." Jill spluttered, choking on her first few words.



"The name's Ada Wong, but let's make a deal. How about you call me Master, and I call you Bitch. Deal?"



"M... Master..." Jill said. The word escaped her notice, flowing seamlessly with the rest of her thoughts. "Please... get me out of here..."



"Why would I do that, Bitch? You're the official mutt of our organization. We even tattooed our logo above your ass in case we lose you. It makes a fitting tramp stamp."



"I have to... get out of here..."



Jill moved to sit up, and failed. A few faint flops of her arms and legs on the table counted for nothing, chest heaving harder as she fought to control her body. Among these heavy efforts, she followed Ada's hand as it descended, catching the light tinkling of fingernail to glass each time Ada tapped a strange device on her chest.



"You might as well stop trying," Ada said. "Do you hear that? It's your dog leash. It lets us turn you into a stupid, obedient mutt with the press of a button, and shuts down control of your body when you're being the wrong kind of bad little bitch. Let's test it out!"



Ada leaned back, producing a bizarre handheld device from her side. Raised high enough for her puppet to see, she tapped a few buttons on its keypad and stared down at Jill.



"AaaaaaaAAAAAAAGH!" Jill screamed. Chemical fire burned through her raised veins, coursing into the full, pillowy softness of her aching breasts. A pinch from Ada to one of her nipples forced her hips higher, riding through a rush of onset orgasm as the P-30 drug aroused her to peak condition through sex. In the chilled laboratory, her red, puffed up, sopping pussy steamed between her legs.



"That worked better than expected," Ada mused.



"Cock... pussy... I need.... URGH!"



Jill's teeth clenched, as she buried her fingers inside her dripping snatch. Every pump of her digits, her hips met with a fierce humping, her freshly oversexed body craving the taste and touch of sated lust. Her convulsions as her loins spewed their first release of her girly cum across the lab slab grew fiercer, sweat shining off her pale skin. She would have kept at it for hours, if not for the first command of her new owner.



"Heel, Bitch!"



Jill whimpered as her hips dropped, her hands slurped from her mound and she lay unsated. "M-master... I..."



"If you want cock and pussy, you need to earn it," Ada said. "I have a mission for you."



---------



"Claaaaaaaire," the creature hissed.



"What is this thing?!"



Claire Redfield, huddled in the corner of a dark, barren room, stared at the barricade of bookshelves and desks she built against the door. She shivered, the very sound of her name from the creature's lips like a sickly lick up her spine. The cold air raised goosebumps over her pale, naked breasts, a perky pair she covered with crossed arms to make up for their exposure through the torn and tattered remnants of her bone white jacket and pink turtleneck. Dreading the creature's approach, Claire gripped her gun, finger to its trigger and braced herself for another round of hell.



"Claaaaaaaaaaire..."



The split second she waited before leaping from the wall cost her dearly. The plaster and concrete against her back crumbled like dust around the creature's arms. Its hand clasped her jacket's collar from behind, yanking her high. She kicked wild, and blind, swiffing her feet about the air in a panic as it carried her to the window. Then, she saw its eyes in reflected glass. Fierce, glowing, malicious eyes, set behind the pointed beak of a Plague Doctor mask.



"Please, don't do this!" Claire begged, squirming as she dangled in its grip. "I'll do anything you want, but please-"



CRASH!



Glass crunched and shattered into shards as the creature flung her through the window. Her frantic scream bounced off brick walls, cascading into a distant echo in her swift plunge from the fourth story to her death.



... Or she would have, if not for the luck of a well-placed dumpster. The cushion of a few fluffed black bags full of shredded paper brought a soft sigh of relief, enough for her to forgive the sticky, slimy feel of soda syrup oozing into her ass crack and ketchup starching her auburn hair. Climbing from the dark blue bin, she spat out the condom in her mouth and gagged on the taste of stale cum as she limped from the alley and came face to face with another nightmare.



"Shut down TerraSave!"



"Claire Redfield's victims deserve justice!"



Hidden by the darkness of a flickering streetlight, Claire gawked at the massive crowd. They seethed with outrage, her name transformed into an airborne toxin passing thick through their lips. Behind mock-ups of Wanted posters and jail cell bars, the playful come-hither stare she gave on her TerraSave publicity shots became the very image of a vile vixen, from crudely drawn devil horns and blood red eyes to a stream of fire spewing from her mouth. In the protesters' hands, her smiling, self-sure face showed sinister glee, vivid signs of the soulless monster they thought she had become.



Her gaze drew to the woman on stage with a megaphone, shouting to the protesting masses.



"Claire Redfield fooled us. She tricked us into thinking our money would go to giving aid during outbreaks, when she was starting them all along. The sick freak even gets off on it. You've read the E-mails she sent to WilPharma and Umbrella yourselves."



"E-mails? They can't mean..." Claire said, half-whispered. She watched from the sidelines as the protest leader produced a ream of paper from one of her back pockets, flipping through the mess of pages.



"Listen to this. 'Teehee, I'm creaming my panties just thinking of all those people turned into zombies. Make sure the outbreak starts at 3 PM so I can find a good place to sit down and finger myself. I paid and fucked you more than enough for a good show.' Are we going to stand by and let a skanky, evil bitch like Claire Redfield roam free?"



"NO!" They yelled.



"It's time we took a stand. If the courts won't arrest and punish her, we'll hunt her down and put her through the hell she deserves!"



The horror of those words framed as coming from her mouth came second to the sheer shock of everyone calling her name, demanding to see her brought low. Men, women, children, a burnt-out mass of people lined the city's streets to demand justice against the slutty, murderous straw woman of Claire Redfield built for them on a modern day soapbox. She knew she should flee, escape until she could clear her name, but the need to set her record straight among this passionate outpouring of hate for her pounded in her chest.



Her climb up the platform's stairs met with a silenced crowd, their voices falling into hushed whispers as she held her cut arm and reached center stage. All eyes fell to her, judging her, reading for the first sign in her body language they could take as a part of her deceitful ways.



"Please, listen to me," Claire began. "Those E-mails you read were faked. I would never want to see anyone go through the horrors I witnessed in Raccoon City. Someone is framing me to cover their own horrific actions. With your help, I can-"



"You bitch!"



Claire barely turned her head to the protest leader before she felt the woman's swift, jarring slap. Its raw force sent her tumbling to the stage's wooden floor with a board-bending creak. She rubbed her stinging cheek and stared up at the long-haired brunette.



"Do you really think we're going to buy your lies again?" the woman accused. "We're not stupid. We can see behind that innocent act you put on to raise money for your dirty schemes."



"Ohhh...." Claire groaned.



Her limbs went stiff and weak, and her head pounded, as the evening's gauntlet of shame and blame taxed her body. Silently, she cursed the years she spent savoring the comforts of a civilian life filled with public speeches and desk duty. Her puffy cheeks and hint of belly flab taunted her with her own weakness. She was a bureaucrat, a tiny cog in the political wheel of nonprofits, caught in the urban jungle of a new biohazard outbreak. The spunky, fit young college girl of yesteryear was gone, replaced by an out of shape pencil pusher unable to take so much as a slap to the face without crumpling into a heap on the ground.



She bent forward, toward the crowd, pressing her knuckles and knees into the cheap wood beneath her. Her back end led her journey upright, ascending like the sun over a smooth, curved horizon. Her khaki pants stretched, nearly bursting at the seams from her fat, bulging rump. Just as her upper half began to rise, Claire winced to a quick kick in the butt and her face smacking the stage. She looked up to see the protesters' signs fly high again, and hear their cheers roar louder to another boot in her ass.



"OW!"



"This is Claire Redfield," the leader announced. "This is the slut that started a global outbreak because she gets off on it. Tonight, we make her pay."



"No! You have it all wrong! I was framed!"



Claire gasped as the leader clutched her ponytail and tugged hard, forcing her to her feet in mere seconds. Her chest pushed out as she stood on her tiptoes, little cries of pain squeaking out her mouth with every tiny jerk. She gazed out at the bloodthirsty crowd, their eyes glinting with hate and revenge, such that when their leader whispered in her ear, she froze at the words as if a dagger plunged into her back.



"Nothing personal, Claire... oh who the hell am I kidding. Every second of your miserable, humiliating end is personal. Feel free to thank your brother before you die."



"Who... who are you?" Claire asked.



"Jessica Sherawat, one of Chris' old partners. And I must say, Claire, you're one chubby pencil-pusher. Do you eat nothing but cheesecake, or are you natural-born fatass?" She pinched and pulled Claire's cheek with her free hand, hiding her grin behind her victim's bushy ponytail as her mean tease showed off Claire's teeth and brought Claire's eyebrows into a lower angry furrow. "Aww, look at Chris' cute widdle sister! She's just like a big baby, all fat and no muscle."



"J-Jessica... please..." Claire huffed between her breaths.



"Oooo, please what, Claire? Please let everyone rape your huge ass? Please make you bawl your eyes out in front of everyone like a five year old?" Jessica mocked, her breath fanning through bubble gum pink lips and down Claire's neck. "I'll tell you what, if you admit you're an evil skank and piss your pants in fear in front of all these people, I might let you live at the end of the day. What do you say?"



They spoke in a bubble of quiet whispers, hidden behind the loud veil of a crowd incensed to hazing and murder by Jessica's command. Yet Claire heard every bit of Jessica's offer. Her legs steadied on the stage. Her hands drifted from her sides to the paunch of her stomach. She glanced at her feet, then the men and women assembled to witness her downfall, as they sealed her name in a cloud of hate as the sole cause of the horrors playing out around them.



"Go to hell."



"Oof!"



One quick smash of her elbow into Jessica's ribs made the agent double over. For all the woman's grasping, Claire's hair slipped from Jessica's fingers like so much sand on the wind. She found her wrists caught in the pencil-pusher's iron grip, sent for a ride well beyond the files Agent Sherawat read on her target.



"Hnnngh!" Claire bent forward, shifting Jessica's weight and tossing the thinner, lighter woman into the throngs of people below. Faster than the crowd could gather their wits, she dashed off the stage into another alley. Fires raged past a mesh-wire fence, yet even their heat would not deter zombies as they burned in her view on the other side. Trapped, she darted her gaze about until she found the perfect exit and ran to it.



"Come oooon... please be open... yes!" A single light shove opened the door. Just as the crowd closed in on her, she clutched and shut its metal gate as she entered. With a satisfying click of the gate's lock, and a couple limps into the closest hallway, she slumped and sighed against the wall.



"Okay, I barely got out of that alive. Now I have to track down who did this to me, get the evidence, and...."



Claire's train of thought left her, ripped free to the shocking, jaw-dropping sight she stumbled upon with her choice of building for her escape. The fragrant aroma of womanly lust wafted on the air to her nose, paralyzing her body further as she bore witness to some depraved female rendition of tea-bagging.



"Mmm... ahh... oh yeah... uhhhnnnn..." a woman, a familiar Asian, grunted.



Ada's gold ringed earrings jingled as she squatted and rose over an unconscious blonde's face. On her downward drops, she rubbed her wet, hairy slit against Sherry's nose, slicking the ridges and flares with a nice coat of her ladyspunk. Her gloved fingers rubbed deep within her snatch between victory grinds, swirling and circling while her thumb tapped her precious clit. She couldn't help but gasp through another wave of pussy-tingling arousal every time she covered her victim's head behind her blue denim skirt.



"This has been a long time coming, Sherry," Ada said. "Let's see you try to lure men away from me with that smug, pretty face of yours buried in a thick, hot load of my cum."



"Sherry... Birkin?!" Claire softly eked out.



Ada's thighs flexed within pantyhose, and her black high-heeled boots creased their leathery folds. Her scarf floated to the gyrations of her lithe body, while her rack jostled on the metal belt pressing them higher. She tossed her short raven hair back, huffed through her nose and buried a hand in her cleavage to pinch one of her nipples.



"Ahhhhhhhhhh," Ada gave a sated moan to the final small, simple tweak of her hard brown nub that sent her over the edge.



A jet of Ada's clear, musky cum shot from between her legs, smothering Sherry's closed eyes and soaking into the blonde's thin bushy eyebrows. Its spread enraptured Sherry's supple snow white skin inch by inch, streaming around her ears, slipping into the dent beneath her nose, until at long last it snuck past her succulent pink lips and dribbled into her open mouth. As the Asian agent wiped her hand clean on her skirt and rose with her legs parted above Sherry's head, she looked down and admired her handiwork.



"That's what blonde bimbos get when they try to take me down in a fight," Ada said, before her lips curled into a nasty smirk. "Look at the bright side, Sherry. When you wake up, you'll get a nice, big whiff of me all over you."



"Ada..." Claire trailed. The surreal haze of the evening weighed on her, a rush of strange events cascading into a botched whole. Everything about her life since the Raccoon City incident crashed down around her, bringing her almost by coincidence before the two women she met that day. "This... this can't be happening. This must be a hallucination... or a dream..."



"Mmm... yes, that's all this is, Claire. A wet dream." The sexy saunter of Ada's swaying hips drizzled her juices down Sherry's parka. The loud click of her heels sounded with each tainted drop. Her hands, gentle wisps flitting down her expressive, jiggling tan bust, dipped into her blue dress and pulled out a tiny gun. "Why else would you walk in on me carpet bagging the girl you saved fifteen years ago? Only your sick, perverted mind could imagine I would do something this hot and dirty."





Claire's gaze drew first to the needle's tip, sparkling in dull orange light, then at the vindictive gleam in Ada's eyes. "No!"



"Oh yes, Claire Redfield, and this is the crowning glory of your nightmares: The Progenitor Virus," Ada taunted, slipping into a seductive lilt as she trained her aim. "There's enough inside this needle to turn you into one of the mutated freaks you've spent your whole life at TerraSave trying to stop. Imagine how much fun it will be for you to run amok, murdering dozens of innocent people before your dear brother swoops in to kill you, all while every news agency on the planet tells the world what an evil, power-hungry whore you were."



"Back! Stay back!" Claire shouted, shrinking away as Ada crept in for the kill. Cornered, wounded, she grit her teeth and pressed her back against the wall as the needle hovered before her like a phantom. One drop of its toxic brew, and she would...



"Or maybe you'll be one of the lucky survivors. We would have to brainwash and rename you like all the other Wesker Children, but the look on your brother's face when he sees the woman you've become would be priceless." Ada raised the syringe, cupping one of Claire's boobs in her palm. "Yes, I think I'll enjoy twisting you into a villainous whore. Hold still, Claire Wesker, this will only hurt a bit."



"Claaaaaaaaaaaaaire..."



The shoddy remnants of plaster and concrete burst from a nearby wall, pluming like thick smoke in the wake of a humanoid wrecking ball. An earthquake of force shook the building's foundation, lights squeaked and swung from the ceiling, and as the dust settled, Claire stared at the new horror firmly stepping into the hall.



"Jill, Jill, Jill," Ada droned. "I send you on a simple errand, and you fail me yet again. What use do I have for a dumb bitch like you if you're too stupid to finish the job?"



"Jill?!" Claire said. "Jill Valentine?"



"Master," Jill answered, her voice snuffed behind her mask. "I feel... aroused. Claire's ass makes my pussy wet with excitement. I need to rape it before I can complete my mission."



Ada, flipping her hair from her eye, leered at Jill as she stepped back and released Claire's tit from her grip. "Hmph. They did say your libido while on these drugs would interfere with your duties. Fine, have your fun with her, then snuff her."



In one swift, smooth motion, Jill whipped her cloak and beak free from her form to reveal her sleek bodysuit. Her hands snaked down her sides, felt up her rump and squeezed hard, opening her mouth for a lusty moan as she gyrated her own hips in front of Claire. Her lust dribbled from her snatch through the slit in the suit's crotch as she drifted over to the object of her wants, leaning in with a torrent of arid breath across Claire's cheeks before locking lips.



"Mmm... MMPH!" Claire, eyes wide, cried in a muffle of tongue snaking in her mouth.



Her desperate reach for Jill's blonde ponytail failed, frustrated by the assassin's iron grip to her wrists against the wall. Left to her last faint tactic, she rushed her knee into Jill's groin... and felt the clamp of the former B.S.A.A. member's thighs, before a flush of hungry humps to her leg left a streak of cum soaking down her khakis. For all her weak struggles, in seconds she found her hands forced to fondle Jill's fluffy leather-clad ass cheeks.



"Now Claire," Ada said, sneaking a hand inside Claire's tattered turtleneck and pinching a nipple to savor her reward of a pained wince. "I know what you're thinking. 'Ada, Jill was already controlled before, why put her through this again?' Well, the geniuses behind her last little adventure wasted their chance to make her act like a sexed up female version of the Nemesis that chased her around Raccoon City. I, on the other hand..."



Jill tore away from the torrid affair with a lick to the lips... and a tug of Claire's arms, slamming the TerraSave member's forehead into a wall. While a dazed Claire regained her bearings, Jill dropped her, grinned at the new offer of Claire's delicious upraised ass and removed a dagger from her boot. One simple slice in the seat of her plaything's pants split them in two, each cheek cupped and parted by khaki fabric for a golden view of her puckered rosebud.



"Jill, please!" Claire implored. "Help m- AH!"



Smooth, leather-bound digits invaded Claire's prone ass. Each finger, slicked by a coat of Jill's arousal, slipped through her clenched hole even as she clamped down tighter. Her slow crawl away from the scene earned her hefty, taming slap to one of her cheeks, and the full weight of her abuser as Jill straddled and humped her lower back. She winced, spotting Ada's high heels before the Asian agent grabbed her chin and forced her to look at the bitchy smile on her lips.



"Look at my breasts," Ada demanded, before trapping Claire's head in a vice of her palms. "Impressive, aren't they? They've been a very helpful asset ever since my employers paid for my all-natural upgrade. With a pair like these, it would be a sin not to put the girls out there for everyone to see."



"You crazy, self-absorbed NGH!"



Claire's eye winced shut, as Jill went on to the next round. Here she laid, peering into the glistening, bountiful rack of her tormentor as Jill pumped further, rougher, adding another finger to circle her sphincter loose. Amid the digits reaming her, she failed to resist as Ada's arm cradled her head, and her nose buried into the Asian's soft cleft.



Ada, humming, stroked Claire's hair. "Mmm... do you smell that? Those are pheromones. My employers turned me into the perfect sex object. I can seduce anyone to do my bidding... now look at you. Do you really think an out of shape, washed-up pencil-pusher like you can do anything to stop us after sitting on your fat ass day after day for so long?"



The heady scent of Ada's bust drifted Claire's mind into a siren smell of desires. Her tongue flicked one of Ada's exposed nipples, reaching to take in the delectable teat...



"Ooooooh!" Jill cried as she came, a rush of her clear spunk flowing down her thighs and soaking into Claire's jacket. Her fingers, buried to the knuckle in ass, ripped free with a pained grunt from Claire as Jill slumped and rolled off. Lying in a growing pool of her own release, Jill stumbled onto her knees and leapt at Ada, jarring the Asian's nipple from Claire's mouth.



"Bitch! What do you think you're doing?!" Ada shrieked, kicking as her servant pinned her to the floor.



"Claire... run!" Jill shouted.



A shaky, shaken Claire stumbled to her feet, righting herself by smacking her palm against the wall. "Jill, come with me. We can work together and save the entire planet."



Jill, whilst wrestling to keep Ada down, looked over her shoulder. "No, they tied the control system into my libido this time and filled me with enough drugs to keep my levels high. I don't have long before I recover from my orgasm and- Aaaaaaaaah!"



Jill screamed as electricity sparked from the nodes on the back of her bodysuit. Sweat beaded down her chest, and her hair frizzled on end with the primitive spark of her fiery lust rekindled. She stemmed its return with a few well-placed gropes to her thick, billowing bust, even as a fresh surge of chemicals enhanced their size. "Claire, I'm doing everything I can to hold myself back. Get out while you can."



"Jill, I'll find a way to free you," Claire assured. She turned, wobbling in the fastest gait she could muster down the hall.



An annoyed Ada, rolling her puppet aside, rose and aimed at her mark. Within the blink of her feathery eyes, the syringe buried into Claire's thick, bubbly butt and squeezed its contents into Claire's bloodstream faster than she could slap it off. As her target disappeared around the corner, Ada gave a little smirk and tweaked her handheld console.



"Get up, Bitch," Ada commanded. She assessed her ragged, weary puppet as Jill panted for breath. "It looks like I'll need to keep your sexual thrills on a tight leash until we can fix that glitch."



"Master," a firm, resolved Jill answered, "I will continue my mission to assassinate Claire Redfield."



"No. She can wait."



Jill slipped into her cloak, fit her mask over her head and turned to Ada, speaking through the rough mechanical coder built into her mouthpiece. "But master, she has access to TerraSave's files. If she reaches the B.S.A.A., she could put a stop to our plans."



"She won't live long enough to make contact with them," Ada said. She strutted to the downed Sherry Birkin, letting out a cool, confident sigh as she admired her own juices drying into the blonde's perfect face. "Between the protesters, the Progenitor Virus and zombies throughout the city, Claire will be dead before sunrise. If she's not, I'll send you out to finish the job."



"Then... what are your orders?"



With a smirk and a gentle shift of her hair, Ada replied, "It wouldn't do for a smart, luscious beauty to do the heavy lifting. That's why I have a dumb she-beast like you to do it for me. Take Sherry back to the lab, I have business in China."



She stepped through the gaping, crumbling hole left by Jill's entrance, leaving her puppet to clean up the mess.