#gorman

90s Style "Smog" - DOR Transmuting in LA

May 12, 2026

Strange clouds in Santa Clarita, thick soupy DOR in LA. But by mid afternoon, the DOR lifted and the sky started to clear. OR clouds formed in the haze and trails broke up. The sky was pretty haywire all day, as the DOR based control grid continues to struggle to dominate the sky.

Joseph Mawle as Gorman.

Note: Cullen Moss also played Shoupe on OBX. Corrupt authority with pretty eyes. Anyway, sorry for neglecting the inbox. Going to try to finish some requests soon.

Imagine Gorman agreeing to stay away from Joan and Beth as long as he gets you.

I’m not sure why you even bothered asking me, you pretended to say, Dawn’s in charge of who boinks who around here.

He thumbed your tongue, which promptly retracted. A coquettish lick? Smile widening, Officer Gorman swooped in.

Her iron fist’s slackening, you continued. It was hard to shut your brain off. To just daydream while he performed all the cavity searches he wanted. Your thoughts refused to leave Grady Memorial Hospital. At least Gorman could only have his way here. No driving you to remote locations for backseat banging. Misuse of police equipment might still occur. Or not.

Dawn’d cream her well-ironed pants if she knew about Woodbury. (Happier times.)

As long as you complied, no handcuffs, right? If he tried dirty talk on a walkie-talkie, you’d seek him out in person. Beth and everyone else would find out you were Gorman’s... girl. Eventually. Comply, and he might agree to be discreet. Hickeys, other bruises; they could be hidden. A broken spirit couldn’t. Yours couldn’t. Not from Beth. Speaking of whom…

He was friendly to her, at first. Surely he won’t be too sadistic? 

You shuddered. A wet thumb ceased rubbing itself against your nipple. 

“Sensitive, huh?” Gorman straightened, a saliva strand linking your frown to his smirk. “Nipple-play’ll work just fine.”

“And titjobs?”

“And titjobs,” he affirmed.

Your heart lightened. It was sad that this hunger was the least horrific kind you’d faced since the outbreak. 

Whatever you put me through, can’t there at least be orgasms?

“I- I’m good with my mouth. Or so I’ve been told.”

The leer told you that was the right thing to say. In this situation. He wasn’t a cherry hound. Maybe even liked his ladies experienced. But Officer Gorman wasn’t going to have any more ladies. Just you. You would make sure of that.

“I’ll be sure to return the favor.” He went in for another peck. It almost felt nice. The way your tongues meshed. His hot palms against your stiff peaks. Blood flowing to your extremities. Adrenaline as the result of anything other than the threat of being devoured alive. 

But isn’t that what he’s doing, too?

At least he left his gear. This would be “vanilla.” Batons are for beating rotters, not beating off. You giggled. Coinciding with his high beam tweaking. Sure making them puffy. Hopefully, your chest would be the only sore thing. That day. You needed to be prepared for whatever perversions- 

“God, I can’t wait to see you wriggle around on my cock.”

Then he burrowed his face in your valley. Thumbs still pinned on your caps. 

At least he left his gear. 

“Condoms.” 

You knew even your __-cups couldn’t muffle his hearing. Yet he didn’t stop administering sloppy kisses and licks. Not until you ran a hand up and down his back. His face was flushed. Unnannoyed, though, because his thumb and forefingers continued pinching. Hard.