Watcher #15 - Part 3

Fuckin' quacks turning psych wards into their personal playground. They poke, they prod, they fuck whoever they want, and nobody bats an eye. These slimeballs got their licenses hanging on the wall like they mean something, yet every time the ward goes dark they’re sliding into another scared patient’s room with nothing but bad intentions and stiff dicks. Locking the door behind ‘em, they unbuckle right in front of the cowering lunatics they swore to protect. Wrenching legs open, shoving in raw, rutting like animals while the poor girl’s raw nerves fire off in broken time. Hot cum splattered on thigh, bedsheet, sometimes still dripping out of a hole that wasn’t even asking for it.