The silent hum of the security cameras offers no distraction from the vigilante's growing need. His uniform, once a symbol of protection, now feels restrictive as he unzips, revealing his throbbing, veined cock. With a grunt, he begins to pump, his hand a blur as he races towards release, the tension building in his balls. The office, once a place of work, now a stage for his private performance, echoes with his ragged breaths and the wet sound of his hand on his flesh.