"Welcome to my secret fetish lair, mes chères." (Patreon)

Tracer, Brigitte, and D.Va had been given a mission of utmost importance: infiltrate the hidden facility where Widowmaker was rumored to be hiding. The notorious assassin had eluded Overwatch for too long, and it was time to bring her to justice. With their training and determination, they were ready for the challenge.

The three agents donned matching military gear, clad in sleek grey wetsuits designed to help them blend into the shadows. But it wasn't just stealth they had in mind. They had heard whispers of Widowmaker's poison gas attacks and knew they had to be prepared. Each of them wore a gas mask securely strapped to their faces, ensuring their safety against any lethal toxins.

As they approached the facility under the cover of darkness, their hearts raced with anticipation. They had no way of knowing that Widowmaker was one step ahead of them. She had already dispatched an agent to infiltrate their base and sabotage their gas masks.

As they ventured deeper into the facility, a noxious gas began to seep into the room.

Panicking, Tracer and her companions tried to seal their gas masks tighter, but it was too late. The gas masks failed, and the room filled with a sleep-inducing vapor. One by one, they succumbed to its effects, collapsing to the floor, their vision blurring as they lost consciousness.

When they awoke, their heads throbbed with the remnants of the gas's effects. They were bound tightly with vibrators attached on her legs. Each of them still wore their gas masks, military gear, and wetsuits.

And there, standing before them, was Widowmaker herself, dressed in a provocative dark blue latex catsuit that clung to her every curve. She wore black high heels that accentuated her predatory grace, and a 10 gas mask concealed her face.

With a sultry tone, Widowmaker taunted them, "Welcome to my secret fetish lair, mes chères." Her muffled voice echoed through the room.....