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The Long Walk	By : Breech_Loader Category: Comics > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 2638 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the franchise of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, have invented none of its characters, and make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
The Long Walk
Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and SonicFrank
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Harley: New chapter. It feels so good that you accept not just the story, but also the character Breech. And also, this chapter contains sex. By sex I mean sex, so if you don’t like sex, WHY ARE YOU HERE?!
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Chapter Thirteen: Shiny New Story
"Have you ever heard of a man called Baxter Stockman?" Breech asked as she sat in Donatello’s arms.
Donatello's eyes went wide, and he backed off a little, "Baxter Stockman? The Roboticist? Of course I have..." His voice became low and thoughtful.
"Well, he comes into this shiny new story," Breech said quietly, "When I was 14, I finally got the chance and the guts to run away. I was young and stupid; I didn't plan ahead much. A giant cat on the streets gets a lot of media attention. I was caught again after about a month of killing street dealers and eating out of garbage cans. Needless to say, they weren't happy. And I mean, really not happy. Shitloads of fuck not happy. I mean, your primary killing machine goes on vacation, you wouldn't be too happy either. So, after they gave me the beating of a fucking LIFETIME, they went to the Foot Clan for further advice on how to teach me a lesson about running away."
"And they got Baxter Stockman involved." Donatello's gaze was at the wall before them, but he was looking elsewhere. His arms, while still around her, went lax. He was lost in her story.
"Stockman, right," Breech took a breath, "A man who's never satisfied by anything less than the cold hard proof found on a lab table. He was elated to have something like me to experiment on. So, he artificially inseminated me with human sperm. After quite a long and arduous journey of intense and agonising pain and seven consecutive miscarriages, I was pregnant."
"Wait." His arms squeezed her gently. "You're telling me that Baxter Stockman went so far as to force someone as genetically unstable as you into pregnancy!? Does he have any idea how dangerous that is!? The genetic and hormonal insecurities had a very high chance of..." He had to stop short, or he'd have never stopped at all. Instead, a moment to clear his throat seemed more appropriate. "Go on."
Breech continued, "Anyway, after nine months of being pregnant and painful, humiliating testing, I was back on that lab table, undergoing a Caesarean section without any anaesthetic. At some point I blacked out from pain, and when I came to again, I'd been stitched back up and Stockman was a few feet away from me, dissecting the freshly born baby like it was some sort of worm in a biology lesson. If I could've stood right then, I would have killed him. It's surprising how attached you can get to something you didn't think you wanted... when it's been growing inside of you for nine months."
If his bo were in his hand at that moment, he'd have snapped it in half. The anger scorching through him was enough to char the wood, and Breech could physically an increase in the temperature of his plastron. The blood flowing through his arms also rose in heat. Baxter Stockman was absurd, and had gone way too far. A silent oath was sworn within him, one that pledged the mad doctor would pay for what he did. The poor girl had been only 14, and Don could think of at least eighteen ways that entire ordeal could have left her incapable of walking ever again, at least seven ways it could have left her fully paralysed or comatose, and six ways it could have killed her. The fact that he pulled it off successfully was a scientific, genetic and medical breakthrough. But any self-respecting scientist knows the risks of going too far. In this case, the very life of his dearest friend...
"I... I have the scar to prove it," Breech took Don's hand in her own and placed it over a thin scar over her uterus. It was invisible to the eye, but he could feel it, under the fur.
Don's expression was blank. The anger, sorrow and all the hurtful thoughts were too much for him to handle at once. He cringed, and engulfed her further in his arms when his fingertips slid over that treacherous line. His voice failed him, but a single sob of unimaginable, tearless pain escaped his throat when he took firmer hold of her, chin pressing lightly against the back of her shoulder.
Breech blinked a few times, to try and keep back the tears, "I... guess that's why I get mad when people don't understand how much of a bitch life is, huh?" she asked, making a feeble attempt to inject some humour into the unhappy story. Then the tears began to roll down her furry face slowly, and she turned to Don, pressing her face into his plastron as she wept quietly.
His body equalled hers in sorrow, but it longed for much more. It ached to rob her of her pain, bear it upon itself, and have her know it no more. This was impossible in so many ways, but he could at least share it. Her pain was his, now, and he bore it with her. His strong embrace grew warmer, heavier with a desperation to ease the turmoil in her heart. But nothing could. At the very least, he could hold her. "Oh, Breech..."
"Don..." Breech gripped him so tightly that her claws dug a little way into his shell - not that he noticed. She hated crying, or showing any form of weakness to other people. But she couldn't help it. Not with Don's powerful, comforting arms around her.
He sniffed out loud, and it wasn't his allergies. Placing his heavy hands on her shoulders, he pulled back, revealing his face, two thin streams of sorrow having slid down it. His soul reached out for her, and longed for her. Begged...
Tears were pouring down Breech's face and soaking into her black fur, "It hurts, Don... it always hurts... there's always something to hurt..." she rubbed up against him slightly, her face still buried in his plastron, "And right now... it's knowing I'll have to let go of you..."
Shaking his head, he pressed his hands onto her shoulders, pulling her into his chest, "No..." he stated. "Not tonight. I won't let go of you tonight..." He gulped, throat numb from his quiet, painful sobbing. "I promise..."
Breech didn't bother contesting that statement with facts. And she wasn't put off holding him because of his shell or plastron. It was something all the more solid and real to hold on to, convincing her it wasn't a dream, "Don?" she whispered softly, her voice uncertain.
His lungs and his sinuses could bitch all they wanted. At that moment, Breech was there with him, and she needed him more than they did. That was his mindset, anyway, and as of that particular instant, it seemed strong enough to overthrow his allergies. He pushed her, lightly, so as to place his forehead against hers, just like he had during each of their meeting to that date. His eyes were closed for several minutes, but they opened to greet hers with all their promise. "Yes, Breech...?"
"Don, I..." Breech paused, the words feeling alien to her, but yet oh so true, "I, um... love you..."
His heart was already a flutter of emotional turmoil, but it melted nonetheless at her words. Voice trembling slightly, the words came out regardless. "I... Breech, I love y-you too..." His right hand ran down her spine, up her arm, and took gentle hold of her wrist as his eyes peered into hers. "I've l-loved you, since the first time we touched..."
A low rumble started, and Breech's chest started to vibrate slightly. After a few seconds, Don realised that the mutated feline was purring. She placed one hand on his shoulder, once again prying gently at the muscles underneath the skin. And then her hand began to move down his side, slipping into the narrow space between plastron and shell, and brushing against the extremely sensitive skin beneath it.
In any other case, he'd have smiled at this, taken mental notes on it, recorded it in his memory forever. But just then, all logic, thought, and perspective had been vanquished. The sorrow within his shell urged him, the inner need to relieve her of her own taking the wheel. He gave into her, throat pressing her on with a low, sensitive moan, with hot breath that dampened her shoulder. His arms held her firmly against him, three-fingered palms gripping almost roughly, burrying themselves in the smooth fur on her back...
Breech continued to move her hand down his side, lower. He'd never felt pleasure. Not the kind she could give him. And gods, she wanted to give it to him, so badly. Could she even kiss him without giving him a serious allergic reaction? God, she wanted to feel his lips, so much... Instead though, she moved her lips to his neck, and kissed it lightly.
Don’s reaction to her contact was that of a sudden, unexpected burn, breath flying out of him in a slow shudder. His body rose, and brought hers along with it. Eyes closed, he relaxed, and encouraged her advances with a slight squeeze of her hips...
Breech's purring grew louder as she continued to kiss Don's neck, and with one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other moved lower again, and rested on his upper thigh, rubbing at it lightly.
He felt her claws graze over his flesh, instigating his desires to touch her, feel her warmth, be accepted by her, and most of all, be enough for her... His knees drew him forward, left hand descending strongly against her side, and grasped a daring squeeze at her right thigh.
Breech gave a soft purr of pleasure, and her rough tongue brushed against his skin. Her thumb moved to stroke at the inside of his thigh lightly, and began moving further up.
The heat she gave off, paired with the warmth of her touch revealed feelings; parts of him that'd remained hidden for all those years. One hand remained on her thigh - it dared not move from that spot. His other hand, however, ached to feel more. More of the soft, muscular flesh that was her body. And it aimed for the same place he did. Her heart.
"Don..." Breech moaned in his ear, sensing his hesitation, "Donny... you can... touch me wherever... you want..." Her hand moved up again, searching once again for the gap between plastron and shell, this time between his thighs, "I... trust you..."
Lips parted slightly, he gave a soft sigh at her words. Everything he'd read, watched, studied, and researched, did nothing to prepare him for the intoxicating ripple of her touch. That poisonous, addictive press of her fingers which he could barely attempt to resist. Growing more bold, his hand took hold of her left breast, squeezing gently over the sports bra. The soft, supple felsh drove him forward, eyes closed in bliss as he lowered her onto her back...
Breech could feel her heart pounding so hard she felt as if it could burst out of her chest, and her purrs were growing louder, so her chest was vibrating more than before. Don's warmth and weight on top of her was incredibly comforting and made her feel so secure... Her other hand left his back for a moment, moving to unzip her sports bra at the front, because she was sure Donny, the gentleman that he was, would never do such an intrusive thing.
Donatello's lips formed a soft smile as he hovered over her. To think that Breech Loader, the girl he'd been secretly fantasizing about non-stop since the day they met over the internet, was lying beneath him, fevering under his gentle embrace. He was perhaps more intrusive than she thought, as his hand removed the unzipped top, and tossed it aside into nothingness; into the hazy abyss around them that in this special, heated moment didn't exist anymore. His hand cupped her flesh, green over black. When her lips parted, he groaned with her, as if touching her sent chills of pleasure through his own nerves. In an instant, he was lowered down to her, yellow-green lips pressing amply onto hers..
Breech gasped softly at the touch of Don's lips, something she'd always feared would hurt him... and now he was doing it to her. She shifted her head slightly, trying to find an angle that suited to press their very differently shaped mouths together, and her hand found the gap it had been searching for, moving up to stroke against Don's hot crotch, soon finding the hard, hot length it was feeling for.
The hovering turtle winced, her grasp of his organ bringing him a kind of sensation he’d never felt prior. His hand groped at her breast gently in response, lips clamping over hers. He nearly fell upon her, but his strong arm gave no way...
Breech managed to ease his length out of the combined covering of his shell and plastron, and as one arm looped around his shell again, her hand began to rub up and down the length of his shaft slowly.
His mind was lost - but he had to find it. She was grasping him, practically tearing him apart with a pleasure that had forsaken him all his life. He had to take control, had to make her his. Wile he hated escaping her reach, it was a sacrifice he wouldn't regret as he lowered himself to her chest, hand sliding rhythmically down her body and over the light scar on her hidden skin. His teeth clamped gently around her erect nipple.
"No... no... not like that..." Breech moaned softly, then ran her rough tongue over Don's warm cheek, trying to guide him with what she wanted.
Don immediately followed suit. She was his first, and he was an eager student. His tongue moved over her furry breast, hot breaths engrossing it each time he exhaled. Meanwhile, his hand glided over her stomach, toward her shorts, large knuckles forcing them to submit their prize. Casey was right. He knew exactly where it was...
Breech whined, her grip on his cock shifting slightly, so that the very tips of her claws grazed its length, adding a dangerous kind of pleasure to the mix. Her whine became a pleading mewl of pleasure as his finger rubbed against her slit and found the right spot.
Her pleasure made him moan as he kissed at her breasts, and followed it with a lick. It was a shame that he needed a hand to hold himself over her. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized 'Like shell he did.' Shifting his right knee, he used it instead, allowing said hand to take hold of her untouched mound.
Breech's mewls grew louder and more insistent, as her small foot kicked at the bed, "Don... Donny... Oh..." she panted out his name, her head pressing back against the bed and her body instinctively arching into his touch as her fingers tightened on the end of his hard, thick shaft, rubbing up and down the tip, slowly at first, then speeding up.
He'd have moaned her name right back if his lips weren't busy, along with his tongue. Don's chest felt like it would burst, and he had no idea whether it was the allergies, or his heart's consistent thumping. Her cries for him drew him further. His large hand shifted, so while his thumb rubbed lovingly at her clit, his first finger could make its way inside her, and the warmth of her insides was so radiant, he felt them almost burn him.
Not enough... it was so good and yet, somehow, it was not enough... Once again Breech’s arm left Don's shell, and she reached down, fumbling with the tight short shorts, trying to pull them off without moving away from him.
He knew her thoughts, and it seemed to take him forever to pull them over her long, feline legs, which at the moment he could kiss and caress all over. But he had a better target. It probably wasn't what she expected, but it was his intention to dedicate this moment to pleasing her. And so he lowered himself down her body, a single hand remaining on her breast, squeezing accordingly while his thumb rubbed its nipple. If she were confused, she'd have figured it out when she felt his tongue against her.
"Uh... no... not tonight..." Breech moaned briefly, and pulled Don back up so they were face-to-face again, "Tonight's... for us both..." She held his thick shaft again, and pressed the tip of it against her entrance. She rubbed at his its tip lightly until a bead of liquid formed, and used it to lubricate him.
Donatello swore he heard the front door swing open for a moment. But he paid it no heed. If it were an army of Foot Ninja, they'd have to wait. He placed both his hands beside her head, planting himself in a position formed by untouched instincts. His eyes gleamed down at her with concern, love, lust, and power. "B-Breech, I... A-Are you sure?"
"Two... things..." Breech breathed hard, "First off, I wouldn't be... inviting you in... and second... you'd be short one vital organ..."
Her reply was profound. At first it confused him, but it wasn't long before he formed a grin. He had to do this carefully, for two reasons he could think of. For one, he didn't want to risk hurting her. And second, he wanted to savour the moment as much and as long possible without destroying it. And so he pushed his hips forward, cringing tightly with a tingling intensity as he began to enter her slowly.
Downstairs, Raphael hung up his coat, and was about to take his hat off when he saw Mikey wave him down. "What duh sh-" But his brother shushed him, and pointed at Don's room. Then he glimpsed Leonardo, sitting on the couch with his hand over his face.
"Do NOT interrupt Don right now," Leo told him. He'd heard the noises on passing, and would regret looking in on it for the rest of his life. Watching his brother busy getting to third base with a woman even as his sinuses gave him hell, was a sight that the leader of the turtles wanted to scrub permanently from his mind. Of all the times to return, Raph had to come back now. He couldn't come back an hour ago, when he and Breech were arguing. Or in a couple of hours, when it would probably be over and Breech would have left. No, he had to come back now.
"Oh..." Breech moaned up to her lover, "Don... this will hurt me... so... push it in fast... this time..." She stroked his cheek lightly, still breathing hard.
Don looked down at her and nodded, though he was unsure. He had to take her word for it, though, because it sure as shell wouldn't hurt him. So he dug his fingertips into the pillow beneath her, and launched his hips forward, cringing as he gave off a short, loud cry that practically echoed throughout the lair. Breech's slick inner walls drove him to new heights. There was no barrier - it had broken years ago due to her exploits as kunoichi, or in one of Dr. Stockman's experiments, but this didn't make his own pleasure any less unbearable. His back arched as best his carapace would let it, and his heartbeat drummed loud enough for her to hear.
Raph stood in place, growing visibly angrier by the second. Waves of it rushed through him, his arms trembling as a result. A low growl warned Mikey to keep the hell away from him.
Michelangelo, deciding both his brothers were in no mood for eavesdropping, decided on doing it alone, and he perched himself beside the door. A curious grin formed on cheeky his face as he listened.
Breech cried out sharply too, hers being one of pain. It didn't hurt as badly as it might have done, but she was still very tight, and Don's shaft was thick. Panting hard, she held Don in place for a few seconds, so he knew to let her adjust, and then spread her knees, "Start... real slow... pull most out... then deep in..." she groaned softly.
He wanted to move as gently and slowly as his lusting body would allow him to. Scanning the situation, he found that he could do this better from a different position. Before he pulled out, he lifted his body upward to a kneel, and took hold of her knees with his palms. Lifting them up so her feet were parallel with his shoulders, he held to them and used them for leverage. Now was the perfect time to pull out, and he did so with impressive patience. Doing this sent nearly the same amount of pleasure through his body as the swift insert just moments before, but not quite the same kind. Stopping when only the tip remained, he looked down to her for some type of signal.
Panting, Breech gripped his sides firmly with her knees, then braced her elbows against the bed, ready to arch her body into his thrusts, "'kay..." she nodded, her chest rising and falling heavily with each breath.
Donatello's breathing had become less smooth as well. Maybe she was getting to him, in one way or another. When he received the sign, he found himself staring. Her eyes shimmered in their beautiful bright green, and he couldn't look away. He wanted to close his eyes and admire the feeling completely, but he couldn't break her gaze. He wouldn't try. They were in this together. When he thrust himself back in, he instinctively did so slower than before, another moan escaping his lungs.
Raphael's face was beginning to match his bandanna. If he weren't frozen solid with untamperable rage, he'd be thrashing that room to scraps. The nerve of his brother! The nerve of that woman! Coming into HIS LAIR to have sex with the god-damn door open! Oh, Don was gonna hear about this later. He was SO dead!
By now, Leo had found Mikey's headphones, and put them on, plugging them firmly into the stereo and turning the volume up as loud as he could. He didn't want to hear any of this. Not his smartest brother losing his virginity, not his youngest brother's stifled attempts to keep from giggling, and not even the growling sound Raphael was making. As an afterthought, he picked up the C-Box controller and began to play Super Smash Bros, with the sound effects coming through the headphones too.
Mikey wasn't sure whether this was funny or not. He'd decide later, hopefully after Donny screwed something or other up.
Breech moaned as Don pulled mostly out of her, then again as he pushed back in. With a soft grunt of pleasure, her moans became louder as she braced herself against the bed and started to arch her hips into Don's thrusts, totally unable to break their gaze as her breaths became increasingly more rapid.
Donatello was so gentle, his skin as smooth as his thrusts; his smile as soft as his touch. He was the perfect blend of muscular brawn, with a nearly perfect tone, and a gentle, loving touch. This particular moment was meant for her to adjust, so he put his own satisfaction aside. To further the effect, he used both arms to push her knees forward, toward her, and tucked them over his shoulders as a result. Then wrapping an arm around each one, he used them to add leverage as he humped her. "What?" He asked with a smile. "I read..." And it was effective. He could push into her softly, now, and get just a tad more leeway than before.
"Question is... what?" Breech liked his weight, however much he feared crushing her. It protected her from bad things. But now she could hardly even speak, her gasps short and sharp. Thanks to the extensive foreplay they had indulged in, she was going to come first. Really, really... "OH! OH DON!" she shouted out, her entire body tensing up with pleasure. Previously their sounds had been low moans and grunts of arousal. But there was no doubt that this was heard around the base. Not that either of them cared. And she was unlikely to stop crying out any time soon.
Raphael heard her screams of ecstacy. Whatever Donny was doing in there, he was doing it right. Rather than feeling the need to cheer his brother on, though, he used this fact to feed his fire. Why was he so angry? No, not the logical reason. The real reason. He didn't know... But whatever it was, it was boiling him up worse than the time Mikey painted him pink in his sleep.
To no avail, Leo tried turning the volume of the headphones up higher, but they were at their max. He had to try his very best to focus his concentration on the video game.
Donatello was thrilled by her screams. Breech. His Breech, his girl, was crying his name, and because of what he was doing to her. He held her knees tightly, and pulled back as far as their position would allow him. When he plunged into her, he grunted, and loudly. Her insides were tightening around him. Could she really be about to...?
Reacting on what she wanted to feel, Breech grabbed both of his hands, so that he had nothing to keep his full weight off her. She gripped his hands tightly, holding them above her head and trying her very hardest not to dig her claws in. She cried out again in pleasure as his plastron pressed heavily against her chest, and his hips pressed his shaft deeper inside her as a result.
He was caught off-guard for sure, but his reaction was immediate. Mutating her grip on his hands to a pin of her own, Don planted her furry paws on the pillow beneath them. And he thrust his way into her, hard and fast, again and again. She was small when compared to him, but she took on his raw power and showed no signs of impending quit. His bedframe slammed repeatedly against the wall behind it, which was sure to wake up Master Splinter. The mattress squeaked in sync with their violent love-making. It was ravenous; the intensity of it unleashing from him an unexpected, short spray of sperm, which helped lubricate his incursion of her body. He gave off soft, echoing moans as he gave himself to her. Sweat broke through his bandanna. All these things were happening at once, yet even so, his eyes never once left hers...
Breech wasn't crying out any more. Instead it sounded more like a perpetual moan of pleasure, as she gripped her lover's shell tightly with her knees and bucked up into his thrusts. He could feel that her hands were soaking with sweat, and her eyes had glazed over in pleasure. It all felt so good that it was almost unbearable.
There was no failing her then; not after all that had happened. He had to bring her to orgasm, no matter what it took, and his determination was strengthened by his love for the look she had in her eyes, the shape of her face, the tilting of her hips. He couldn't help himself; had to smile, and run a cool, loving hand over her face, brushing her short hair to the side, "God, Breech... you're gorgeous..." His hips, knees and pelvis gave no way as he spoke, plunging into her without remorse.
"Uh-huh..." It was doubtful that Breech actually heard the words right now. She was concentrating on Don's touch more. He seemed hardly affected at all by their proximity... why did he even claim to be allergic? When they could get this close, feel this good... what were a few sniffles to that? "Ah... DON!" She braced herself against the bed and pressed her hips hard against his as she came.
Downstairs, Raphael hadn't been able to move, wincing when he heard his brother bring this stranger of a woman to a loud, climactic orgasm. He twirled a Sai in his right hand, slowly, as his anger reached a new peak.
Donatello had long lost himself to her cries. When he felt her hips press harder than before, and her knees squeeze his carapace to the point where it creaked, he knew it was coming. He didn't want it to, but he couldn't hold off much longer, and neither could his lungs. He began gasping much louder during his last few thrusts. When her inner walls clenched around him, he came. Hard, the moan that came along with it filling the lair with an echoing chorus.
"God Damn!" Breech cried out, her body still shaking. She wasn't entirely sure what to do. In fact there wasn't much she could do, except lie there and feel absolutely awesome for the next twenty minutes or so, gasping for breath as her hands sweated.
Don managed to hold himself up, though his orgasm had drawn most of his energy. He leaned on one elbow, holding himself over her body. He hadn't even pulled out of her yet when she noticed something was wrong. His face was contorted and he was struggling to breathe. In fact, he couldn't breathe...
Underneath him, Breech was at this moment gasping for air herself, and for almost a minute put it down to orgasm. Then it clicked. Don couldn't fight an allergic reaction forever. With a powerful kick, she shoved Don away from her, and he fell on the floor, still struggling to breathe. She was terrified to touch him now, in case she made it worse. Sure as hell SHE couldn't give him mouth-to-mouth. She grabbed a sheet and pulled it around herself, "Uh... LEO?!" she called, "Master Splinter? ...Mikey? There's a... problem!" She rolled Don into the recovery position with her foot, touching him as little as possible.
Don hit the floor with a loud thud. He rolled over, immediately, and faced away from her, struggling with all his might to suck some air into his chest. His lungs had clogged up, though, and he needed medical attention. Unfortunately, nobody else in the lair knew how to administer a nasal frangible besides Leo, but he had probably gone away after what he had heard. Besides that, Don couldn't call to him. He had to get to his First-Aid kit. Fast. But a part of him doubted that he’d get to it in time.
~~~
Harley: We’ll find out if he lives or dies next chapter. Breech will be in a shitload of trouble if he dies though. This chapter was just too long, and I had to split it.
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The Long Walk