Easy Money (Part 5)

Easy Money (Part 5)

Dark!Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Heiress!Reader

Warning(s): +18, Minor character death, Kidnapping, Mentions of past non con, PTSD flashback, Hostage Situation.

Author's Note(s): In all honesty this was very much rushed through. I’d like to apologize to everyone in the history of ever.

His warm embrace became your second home. Every day he would train you until you’d memorize his schedule by heart.

Robert parks his truck in the warehouse garage. Today he had earned a bonus while on the job. His employer hired him for a cyanide poisoning. His original targets were originally workers of a rival gang. But somehow his package had been sent to their boss. All thanks to an outdated ventilation system, they were trapped in a small enclosed room. Like sitting ducks they waited for death. His employer was thrilled to find out their one and only competitor had been wiped out. Robert was given a generous bonus for a job well done.

He had extra money to spend on himself. Some extra energy to waste on a particular someone. His manhood begins to strain in his pants. He palms it to the thought of his favorite toy.

You could hear faint whistling from the next room. He would be here by now. When the front door unlocks you’re unsure whether or not you should feel relieved or even more scared. All of a sudden a metal door swings open to what had been your prison for the past few weeks. It was Robert, back from a long day of work, “Honey, I’m home!” he hollers while jingling his keys back into his pocket.

You’re on the other side of the door, spread eagle on an old medical recliner. There are marks on your wrists and ankles from the rope digging into your skin. Streaks of dried up tears spread across your cheeks. All you could do was mutter in rambles. A faint, buzzing noise came from the wand set on your mound. It’s batteries were just about to give out.

This was your punishment for attempting to escape earlier. That and your time with Andy had been cut short. Now you weren’t even allowed in the same room together unless accompanied by Robert. He didn’t want you poisoning his son with your lies. There was nothing to fear of, as long as you stayed in your place. Simple instructions and yet here you were, in a situation you’ve created.

You’re practically sobbing when he turns the wand off. Robert rubs soothing stokes against your abused sex, picking up any slickness left from your previous rounds. He sighs soothingly at the sight of your naked form. Drenched from head-to-toe in a sheen of sweat.

When Robert shoves a finger in you don’t fight it. You’ve learned your lesson a long time ago. Fighting him never ended well. Your opening swallows his digit effortlessly. He adds in another slowly working you up. They curl up to brush against your sweet spot. He dares to try for a third appendage, “My, my, what a greedy little hole you have.” your body created enough self lubrication after what he’s already put you through.

Robert hums, “It’s so easy to fuck you like this…” he states, “Maybe I could fit my whole fist in. Wanna find out?” he raises a brow in excitement. You shook your head frantically. He chuckles. But you didn’t think his joke was very funny. He pulls his digits out to rub the wet-coated finger pads against your slit before flipping his hand over. His palm now flush against your bud while his fingers roughly swipe on your inner walls. He touch hard enough to stimulate, but slow enough to not finish you off. 

Robert considers himself a patient man. That is until he saw the desperate look in your eyes. How they grew in panic. He cuts the bindings off. A strong arm pulls you out of your seat. Your weakened body drops to the floor. You fall forward, clinging onto his sturdy legs. You knew what he wanted. Your hands can’t help but tremble while trying to work his fly open. His palm caresses the side of your cheek, “Brings back old memories,” he sighs fondly before sliding his member past your lips.

You gag as soon as you feel his combat boot prying your legs apart. You try closing them but the spreader had made it difficult to do so. There, pulsing in a deep shade of red was your poor, worn out pearl. Robert whistles, “Oh wow. Now that looks painful.” he slides his foot right underneath your dripping slit. He raises his shoe to brush against your mound. He lightly rubs the leather from side to side, indicating what your task would be, “Make yourself come.” he orders.

While bucking your head up and down his girth you rut against his boot. Your wetness made the friction of it all more bearable. You give it to him just how he likes it and soon enough he finishes off deep in the back of your throat. He leaves briefly only to return soon with a bowl of water, washcloth, and a pile of clothes. He places them in front of you.

Robert points a finger in your face then to the bowl, “Clean yourself up.“ he waits until you’re finished to chain your ankles together. A single loose chain connected your legs to avoid any chance of escape. You could only make it so far with short steps. He lets you spend time with Andy. Inside of the warehouse had changed drastically. Each day Robert would bring an item from your apartment to use while in captivity.

But it wasn’t for nothing. There were rules to be followed. Your only order was comply. Following them made life all the more easier. You were rewarded a different freedom with each task done. Robert would listen to every phone call you would make for your work to avoid suspicion from your absence. He’d leave some of his “friends” to run the shop while you weren’t there. That only gave him more control over your life. Robert called the shots around here. He was in charge of what you wore, what you would eat, and what time you’d sleep.

Meanwhile Andy was happy enough bonding with his father. He loved ice cream just as much as he loved spending time with his pop. Robert would return from work with Andy clinging to his side. Your son would go on about his day, “And then we went to the movies and then we went to the park and then we…” he pauses for a moment to catch his breath.

He seemed tired. Did Robert feed him? Anything other than ice cream? Of course not. Someone like him wouldn’t know a damn thing about raising children. You roll your eyes at the thought of him ever managing to fit the suburban dad lifestyle. Just the thought of it seemed absurd.

Robert would make sure to bring in meals regularly. It would always be the same old takeout. While eating dinner Robert drops the big news, “We should start packing.”

“…Why?” you kept your gaze low. Robert glares at you before stabbing a plastic fork into his meal, “Because I’m not raising my kid in a shithole-”

“Please.” you look at him in the eyes, “Could you please watch your language in front of him?”

He raises a brow, the corner of his lips curls up, “Yes ma’am.” he taunts.

When dinner was finished, he hadn’t bothered escorting you to your room. He knew you wouldn’t be foolish enough to endanger your son. While living here with him you spent your time filling out documents entrusting your business would be taken care of under the name Pronge. Robert chose specific people to work in the shop. Like he did with everything else. You slept alone on a pile of blankets, praying for a better tomorrow.

In the morning Robert had packed his van with enough essentials for the move. You sat beside him during the car ride. But he wasn’t a fool. Your wrists were chained together. While rope held your close to your seat. You made sure to pay close attention to Andy in the rear-view mirror. You and him had been playing a game of ‘I spy’ until the car finally stopped.

Robert made sure to play ‘house’ as much as possible while living in the warehouse. You were to take the alias of a dutiful wife and caring mother. He would have the role of the providing father. Little Andy hadn’t known about the game his parents had been playing. He was truly convinced that you both had unconditional love for each other.

Robert parks the van in front of a semi-large home. It was similar to the ones on the magazines he’d provide for you. After a few days you’d realize that he had been bringing over the same items for the magazines to the warehouse. Designer bags, earrings, furniture. At first it seemed strange enough that someone like him would bother. But after everything that’s happened you’ve learned quick to never question anything.

Despite the abandoned building being a bit run down, this place would’ve made a decent home. It was almost nice having a sense of normalcy. You wonder where he would take you to this time. Andy kicks his legs up and down with glee, “You’re gonna like this one mama. Me ‘n daddy picked it out for you!” he claps his hands and giggles in excitement. You sigh in relief. At least you knew now he hadn’t been planning on turning your boy into a mini version of himself.

Robert had been saving up for some time. He made sure to choose a quiet neighborhood. There were plenty of other families to blend in with. As ordinary as it could be. He unbuckles his belt then retrieves a gun from his glove department. Robert holds your chin until you’re face-to-face with him. A finger is in your face. His voice is deep and demanding, “Do not, under any circumstance, cause a scene.” he snarls. You look down and nod. He lets go of your chin to cut the bindings.

When you take the first step out of the van everything had felt surreal. The entire place gave off a cheerful aura. You noticed a woman around the same age as you, waving from next door. When you smile her way, she proceeds to start a conversation out of the blue. The conversation had been short but informative. As much as you enjoyed the company of another adult, you couldn’t help but feel as though Robert wouldn’t approve. All of a sudden, she stops mid conversation, “Oh sweetheart…that’s your husband?” her brows raise as soon as she spots Robert. He steps out of his run-down ice cream truck with a cigarette still in his hand.

Blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face heats up in embarrassment when he drops the bud on the ground and mushes it into the lawn. His hair is in a mess. There are stains on his shirt from god knows where. You look back to find the woman with her mouth agape, she leans in to whisper, “Blink twice if you need someone to save you.” her voice was stern.

You almost hesitate for a moment unsure if she were serious or not. She sharply jabs your side, “I’m kidding by the way! Let us know if you need any help!” she winks before returning to her home. You cringe from what she might’ve thought from that encounter.

You were dolled up from head-to-toe meanwhile Robert decided that wearing the same shirt for an entire week was good enough. If having a slob for a spouse was considered “normal” then you didn’t want any part in it. To think that this was a dream for some. You don’t bother meeting Robert’s gaze. Instead you lift Andy into you arms while bouncing him on your hip.

Your carry your son towards the house. Robert spots the two of you sitting on the front porch. He then eyes the other woman walking back to her home. He notices your discomfort instantly. What had she said to make you so upset? Were you planning something?

Originally posted by evansensations

“What did she say?”

“Nothing.” you roll your eyes, “Are you scared?” you push his buttons to see what his response would be. He leans in close and places a palm against Andy’s back, rubbing small circles against his tiny form, Robert looks you in the eyes, "Are you?" He really had the nerve to involve your son. Robert is caught off guard by you swatting his hand away.

There must’ve been something the other woman must’ve said to make you act up.  Surely his training hadn’t been left in vain. Robert could spot in the corner of his sight a certain nosy neighbor peeping through blinds. He pretends to not notice and stares at the wind chimes instead. Robert opens the front door, expecting you to play along. You walk in first, giving him a glare before heading inside.

Robert closes the trunk of his car before following. You slam the door in his face. Now you were in for it. He makes his way in. From what he’s noticed so far your training had been in vain. He expects you be waiting for him each time he’d arrive. But not even a shadow had been cast.

Robert walks around your new home only to notice there wasn’t a sound. Not a peep. He wouldn’t like it if you tried running off again. Perhaps this time breaking your legs would send a message. He opens each door until he’s reaches the master bedroom. He swings the door open. There you are, curled up on the bed, with your hands in your face sobbing hysterically.

What in the hell was it this time? He hadn’t a clue, and he was starting to get annoyed. This emotional dilemma had to stop. He yanks at your arm with an iron grip, dragging you to your knees. Your head shoots up. He stares down at you with a scowl on his face, “I think you need a reminder of where your place is…” his voice is a deep grumble. Tears begin to welt again. This time from fear. You had really done it now.

Robert let’s go of your arm, leaving an angry bruise behind, “By the time I get back there better be food on that table. I don’t keep you here so you could sit on your ass all day.” he growls. Robert had a chain hook waiting for you in the kitchen. He had one screwed to the floor in each room of the house. As soon as he latches your ankles to the ceramic tiles. He doesn’t care to leave you alone. He had already given you an order, and expects you to carry them out.

He knows within few days before your tantrum would die out, his calculations are never wrong. He pats Andy’s head before leaving for another mission. All the doors of the house are locked from the outside. No way of escaping. Robert’s hands begin to itch while driving. He smokes to get the jitters to stop. Nothing worked. If there was any use that Robert put his pent up anger into, it had to be work. He considers himself a man who takes great care into what he does for a living, and boy is he damn good at it too.

Originally posted by horrorseason

It was late at night, Robert still hadn’t returned. Was this another test? You lift yourself from the cool tile of the kitchen floor. Andy had offered you his blanket but you kindly refused. Poor little angel wanted to keep you company. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. But he was willing to negotiate sleeping on the couch instead. He insisted. You swear that kid would make a damn good lawyer someday. You watch over him as he dozed off. Sleepless nights were a new norm. Your attention had quickly been seized by the door unlocking.

Robert steps inside. He’s covered from head to toe in blood. His face is caked in it. He kicks off his muddied boots before walking over to Andy sleeping. You tug on the chains. Ignoring the pain of the metal digging into your ankles. Robert crouches down to the sleeping child’s level. He looks over his shoulder and smiles, dangling a knife for you to see.

You fall to your knees in a prayer and beg him to stop. He holds the blade in front of his lips and shushes. You quickly silence yourself, dropping your hands to the floor. Robert twirls the knife in his hand before facing Andy. In a swift motion he jabs the knife down. He made you look as he killed your baby. Blood from his small body drips down the couch. A stream of crimson travels down the wooden flooring.

Originally posted by leonseff

The bottom of your dress soaks up in Andy’s blood. You lift your hands up to cover your mouth. Only to realize now the crimson liquid is now smeared across your face.

You scream and scream. Until Robert shakes you awake. He holds the sides of your arms tightly, “Snap out of it!” he orders. You weren’t in the kitchen. Robert must have carried you back to the bedroom after he’d returned. You voice hitches, “W-where is he?”

“Kid’s asleep. Even after all that.” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. You turn to him and whisper, “Can I see him? Please?” you’ve never sounded more vulnerable. He lets out a long sigh before turning on the lamp. He retrieves a pair of boxers from the ground. Robert unhooks the leather binding and switches it with a chain. He leads you to Andy’s room. You held your breath as you twist the door knob open.

A small creak of from the hallway lights shine in. It shines on a familiar face. Andy doesn’t flinch from the gleam. He must’ve been fast asleep by now. You approach his sleeping figure. Careful not to make any noise from the chain dragging behind. You reach for his plump cheek and touch it. He’s warm. When you notice he’s still breathing you let out a sigh of relief. You place a gentle kiss on his temple before following Robert back to bed.

As you laid on your side you couldn’t help but think about your situation. It was hard to sleep under the amount of stress you were in. You felt an arm creep to your side. Robert was in the mood for a midnight snack. He lifts your silk slip on halfway up. He pushes a thick leg in between yours, letting one of yours rest on his thigh. Robert stokes his tip along your folds. He collects what little wetness was there to prep him. He pushes his entire length in without warning. You wince from the intrusion. His thrusts rock your bodies back and forth.

All you could do was stare blankly at the wall ahead, waiting for him to finish off. A few agonizing minutes later his fingers dig into your hips as he pounds his way to climax. He spurts your rear with his arousal. Robert wipes himself off on your skirt. He lies on his back consumed in pure bliss. You pull the strap of your now ruined dress up. Robert’s ragged breaths turn into soft snores. You were very much still awake, wishing now that you never woke up.

Nightmares are a common thing. After all, you live in one.

Easy Money (Part 1)

Dark!Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Heiress!Reader

Warning(s): +18, Non-Con, Kidnapping, Torture, Mind break.

Author's Note(s): This may or may not have been inspired by Melanie Martinez’s ‘Tag you’re it’. Didn’t proofread, Also I’m making this into a series.

He was a hired hit man; he doesn’t risk leaving behind witnesses. But what intrigued him to take the job was the hefty bounty on his latest target.

His employer hired him to get back at a former boss. Some socialite known for being a complete bitch. Especially towards her male employees. He could care less. He was a hired hit man who doesn’t take risks when it comes to leaving behind witnesses. But what intrigued him to take the job was the hefty bounty on her. For a former employee to spend 10k per hour? She really must’ve been one huge bitch. All for some petty revenge porn.

He’d been given a location with list of written demands. A nightclub. The setting had been during their busiest hours. It was the same club where his employer’s ex coworkers would come to hang. A photo of his target had been provided. He searches the area for a familiar face. Soon enough he spots his hit.

There she is. He thinks to himself.

He strides his way to the dace floor, making sure not to lose sight of her.

Originally posted by doesanyonewannagetout

He stalks her from the shadows, eyeing the woman’s form up and down. His eyes feasted on the vixen swaying her hips to the loud music.

Cute little thing with a round ass. Doesn’t look like too much of a hassle.

He sways his body through the crowd, still eyeing the unsuspecting woman. He approaches her ever so slowly. He rocks his arms to the tune, blending perfectly within the crowd of party-goers.

Originally posted by imissyourbattlecries

He prepares to strike, knocking down the woman’s purse effortlessly. As soon as her wallet falls out he kicks it to the side. He picks up a lost lipstick and hands it to the unsuspecting woman, while slipping her wallet into his back pocket. She gives him a genuine smile, thanking him before turning around. He dances away, swiftly turning around to retrieve an I.D. then tosses her wallet onto the floor below. His mission had been accomplished. He already found what he’d been looking for.

This will be easy money. 

For the next few weeks the hit man plans it out carefully. Finding her address hadn’t been an issue thanks to the card. He would take his ice cream truck out everyday, circling it around her neighborhood to avoid suspicion. He’d been studying her schedule in order to find a pattern. After a while, the man had finally come up with the perfect plan.

3 Days later

Today was the day. He knew you’d be leaving work by now, “‘Excuse me ma’am,” the Iceman calls. You look up to find the voice coming from an ice cream truck. A man inside waves your way. He was seemingly ordinary, middle aged, with long brown hair and a beard. You couldn’t quite tell what his eye color was due to his thickly-framed glasses. He didn’t seem too suspicious. You’d seen him a few times driving around and handing cones to the neighborhood kids. You have a firm belief that looks can be deceiving. If the children trusted him, then surely he meant no harm.

He ushers you to come closer, “Would you like a sample? It’ll help with this heatwave going on,” You hop off the bench and walk over to the truck, “You would really do that?” when the man nods you’re thankful, “That’s so kind of you sir!” He hands you a Popsicle treat. He lets you know that they’re popular with the kids. You didn’t mind, after all it was free.

Originally posted by monets

You take in the first nibble. It’s delicious. You couldn’t help but bite back a moan of satisfaction. Your eyes shut blissfully as you take in a mouthful of the sweet treat, “Mmm ‘show good…” it feels as though you’re on cloud nine. This was much needed after the hectic month spent working in your company. With work and balancing your daily life. There wasn’t enough time to just enjoy the little things. Your tongue continues to lap at the sugary sample. But after a minute you start to feel bubbly. No..you felt...almost…sleepy? Your vision starts to blur. Your eyes flutter shut as you wobble to sit. That’s when everything went blank.

He carries the broad into his truck. Her breathing is slow. He could hear the faint air flow through her slightly parted lips. He stares at her cleavage popping out of her bra with every breath taken. Her skirt rakes up her leggings to reveal a matching garter belt and lace panties. He smirks.

At least she’s a sight for sore eyes.

Originally posted by cvlwr

He drives off until they reach end of town, where a secluded warehouse awaits them. His workshop is already set from the previous weeks of planning. He carries her limp body through the worn-down threshold. This is the first time he’s been paid to fuck someone (in a while). Usually he’d kill his targets on the spot and call it a day. But his employer had paid a shit ton for a show, and that’s exactly what he’s going to receive.

He’s already sporting a half hard-on but knows the guy wants a lengthy video. He’ll have to have a little help if he’s going to be fucking her for the next few hours. Can’t risk getting soft, not good for business. He’s gotta give the viewer(s) what they want. He lets out a deep sigh before popping a stimulant pill, mixing it with beer for an extra kick. He reaches into his khakis to retrieve his length, giving his shaft a few pumps until it’s stiff enough to stand on it’s own,

Ahh fuck here we go…

He has you sweating, naked, blindfolded, and gagged. It’s been 9 hours since you were abducted. Your tired mind doesn’t know how long he’s kept you. How many times he’s splurged his seed deep inside you. How many times he’s forcibly made you come undone in different ways. In some ways you never knew were even possible. He wraps his strong, chiseled arms around your waist. His hips jerk up into your sensitive pussy, causing a muffled scream to escape your gagged lips. Drool slides down your chin and onto the dirtied mattress. His breath hitches as he ruts into you at a manic speed. His mind is racing.

Shit! This pill is too damn strong! Oh fuuuck! My dick is on fire! I need to cum— quickly. I can’t fucking stop her pussy feels like goddamn heaven.

He pistons deep into your cunt, hitting your cervix at a brutally fast pace. Your breasts bounce up and down from him fucking your insides up. You could hear the echoes of his thighs and balls slapping against your pelvis throughout the empty warehouse. Your cunt makes lewd squelching sounds from being fucked over and over.

His breath was hot against your head. His long hair was dripping with sweat. His tongue licks a stripe against the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the scruff of his beard against your cheek. He spits on his palm then slaps it on your clit. He grips your sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing the poor bud mercilessly. Your stomach begins to tighten again and you panic. 

“Mmhmph!!!”

You whine like a bitch in heat. You shake your head and begin to sob again. No one could hear your muffled cries for help. You were too sensitive for yet another orgasm to be forcibly pulled from you. Your free arm attempts to push his hand teasing your clit. He slaps it away and has you coming yet again.

Your eyes roll back, while your back arches painfully. Your mouth slacks open. You can’t tell if you’re shrieking from the pain or pleasure as you cream around his member for what feels like the hundreth time. His grunting becomes louder and louder with each hard thrust plummeting your sore walls. You’d never been fucked this hard before. In fact, you’d never been fucked, ever.

His employer wanted to see him break you apart. All for his own sick pleasure. He also paid him double to keep you alive. So that you could live with the trauma of what happened for the rest of your life. What he didn’t pay for were the extra 6 hours of hardcore fucking. He lets out a throaty moan as his hot seed spills into your abused pussy once again. He’d lost count of how many times he’s emptied his load inside. Your stomach protrudes from being so full of his thick cum. There’s just one last step he has yet to complete, the cherry on top of his sundae. He lets out chuckle. He’d always remind himself of the golden rule:

See, the thing about someone with a lot of pride is, you have to break their spirit completely. So they’ll finally give up fighting.

Your kidnapper yanks the blindfold off, then ungags you. He reveals your now puffy eyes, your lips were swollen with marks where the straps were, and your face has a flush spread through the rest of your body. He grips the back of your hair, causing you to yelp. He tugs at your locks until you’re forcibly staring directly into the camera. 

He gives you an order, “Now, what do you say?” Your voice was hoarse from hours of screaming but still, nonetheless, you were audible, “Th-Thank you…thank you f-for fucking me…” your eyes are now glassy. Your mind had finally been broken. He tosses you back on the mattress, letting you cry it out.

You can hear him lighting up a cigarette as he nears you. He reaches for a leg and pulls you to the end of the mattress. You not to open your eyes. He already threatened to slit you throat if you ever saw his face. He parts your thighs with gloved hands and sticks his head in between. His face is near your opening, examining the damage done. Admiring his work. He puffs out a cloud of smoke, “Shit…best pussy I’ve had in years. Might haf’ta carve it out ‘n wrap it for later..” he wiggles a brow. You shook your head vigorously, ”P-please..no..” you curl up into a ball and sob.

He just loves teasing you.

Originally posted by tomlhardy

He smothers you with chloroform. Muffling any cries. Darkness consumes you yet again.

When you awaken in a hospital room. The doctors informing you of a psychosis breakdown. You usher them for a DNA sample kit. Something to prove that you weren’t crazy. But by the time the results came in, there was nothing the police could do. You were told that there hadn’t been any DNA left behind. Those were the words told by the Sheriff. From underneath your nails, to the inside of your womb. Every part of you was ‘spiff clean’.

That’s when your world came crashing down. You gave up your position at the company due to the anxiety attacks. Allowing for your most trusted employees to monitor it’s actions. Not long after you were isolating yourself from friends and family. The trauma had you transferred into a psychiatric hospital for months, followed by another year of therapy. But the second year you start to pick yourself up on your own two feet again. Around the third year you decide to change your life for the better and began a startup business. 

You now owned a small thrift store on the edge of town. Your usual customers were mainly young teens or elderly folks. You would recognize each regular customer that would walk in. There had been this one customer in particular who would spy on you every now and then. You noticed his lingering stares before he’d leave the store abruptly. One day he decides to walks right up to you and actually start a conversation,

“Hey,” you look up, making eye contact with a pair of ocean blues. They reminded you of home. He scratches the back of his head, “I was wondering if we could maybe…go out on a date?”

For some reason he seemed so familiar. As if you knew him from somewhere else. You shyly look up into his baby blue eyes filled with confidence. You hesitate for a moment. Anxiety began to bubble up and you freeze. The man speaks up before you get a chance, “You know what, it’s alright if you don’t feel comfortable. I mean I’m a total stranger, and I well, I don’t want to seem like a creep. I understand if you’re not interested in a relationship at the moment. That’s fine. I’m sorry for bringing it up especially at your work—“

“Wait! I-I’m sorry if I seemed a bit off I’ve just never been asked out before—I’ve never even been in a relationship either. I should’ve said something earlier. Sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring your advances, it’s just that I don’t even know your name,” You look up at him. Your face is beat red but you muster up the courage to speak “…I’ve got a busy schedule…so I’ll close early tomorrow?” your brows furrow, awaiting for an answer.

He smiles, “Robert Pronge, It’s a date, and ah..dinner’s on me,” he winks, sending small flutters to your heart.

Originally posted by marvelrose

The next day went by fast. You close the store a bit earlier than you had planned. Giving time to reapply your makeup in the restroom mirror. He waits at the front door. A warm light emphasizes his features, making them appear softer. He hands you a small bouquet of fresh flowers, you blush while giddily accepting them. He offers his arm to hold. While you confidently take it.

Originally posted by sensualrelations

How can someone be so kind and gentlemanly? You don’t see much of those nowadays…

Inside the restaurant were vintage couple’s booths. As soon as the both of you finish your meals you begin small talk. The conversation grows deeper and more intimate. You finally stop beating around the bush and finally ask him a question you’ve been dying to know, “I’m sorry it’s just that—I can’t help but feel like I know you from somewhere..have we met before?”

His voice is deeper, “You really don’t remember me do you?” He couldn’t hold back his laugh.

Originally posted by drunkxabi

He flings his arm over your shoulder until it’s gripping the side of your waist. He tilts his head towards your ear, “Don’t you remember me baby? I’m the same guy who kidnapped you all those years ago…” he snickers. You shake your head in disbelief. He nods with pouted lips, “I couldn’t stop thinking about this sweet pussy of yours…” he sighs, reassuring you that he is in fact, the man who ruined your life. Your eyes begin to prickle with tears.

He moans in satisfaction, “Oh keep doing that baby…you look so pretty when you cry…” he lets out a huffed breath against your face. You try springing from the seat in an attempt to escape. But his arms have a firm grip around your body. Before you could scream bloody murder one of his hands covers your mouth, “Scream and I’ll kill everyone in here. Did you forget that I never back down from my word?”

When you begin to calm down, he lets go.

Tears slide down your cheeks, “Please…what else more could you want from me…?” You sob. Robert holds you close to him. He whispers in your ear as if he were a lover,

“Everything.”

Hidden Treasure (Part 5)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning(s): Minor character death, Murder.

Author's note(s): Tommy's a green-eyed monster in this one.

Now you're sat with Alfie, discussing a plan on how you would escape. He knew your husband well enough. Still, it was a surprise to find out about the little firecracker wife of Tommy Shelby.

You were running on borrowed time, not wanting to waste a single moment. You skim though explaining your family’s relations to the Peaky Blinders. Alfie raises a hand in the middle of it, “You’ve gotta slow down love, my temples are 'startin to ache,” he rubs the sides of his head for a few moments before leaning in, “Now…what exactly did he uhh…do to scare a beauty like you off?”

A beauty. How ironic. You would expect your ‘dear’ husband to call you that, not some gangster. Never had you felt that way around Tommy, and that’s what hurts the most. You would be in deep trouble if he even heard another man compliment you…

Like any pub, the Garrison was busy during the holidays, the Shelby family had been busier than ever. Tommy would bring you along not as a companion, nor a business partner, but more of an accessory to drape around his arm. While wearing clothes he would allow you to wear. No one had taken you seriously unless your husband was there to bark orders. Other than that, you were known as the 'Wife of Thomas Shelby’ or 'Mrs. Shelby’. But today, you wanted to be yourself and look nice while doing so. Besides, Tommy had always expected you to look your best.

You wore a rich blue gown with an open collar to adorn an expensive silver necklace. Your hair was tied in an up-do, while your lips were painted a deep shade of rouge. You wore satin gloves with a pricey fur coat. You would be kept in the house most of the time, so why not put these nice clothes to good use? It’s not like Tommy would mind. He'd always let you drift away from him during parties. Any other dame would’ve been excited that their husband would allow them to have a little fun. Yet why did it make you feel so...miserable?

It felt so meaningless these parties, extravagant events, wearing uncomfortable clothing, along with an unnecessary number of guests. Worst of all, Ada and Polly were nowhere to be seen to keep you company. You look around to find them dancing drunkenly and carefree. With Polly taking the lead. At that moment you understood, they had guests to entertain.

With a marriage like yours, drinking became a large portion of your “coping method”. by the third month you were downing shots as if they were water, seeing as your husband was never there for comfort. Only to keep his cock warm. You couldn't believe him. What kind of a man leaves his own wife alone, in a bar of all places? It didn't matter if he owned it, he still left. You curse that Shelby man.

You sat on a bar stool while sipping a glass of water instead. Tonight, Tommy would leave you be, and that also meant at peace. There was no point in getting drunk now. No reason to drink as much anymore. You had to take more care of yourself now. You were too deep in thought to even notice someone had been staring at you.

You felt a sudden tap your shoulder. It was some chap, seemingly in his mid-thirties. He raises a brow to the seat next to yours, “Mind if I keep you company?” he gestures at the empty chair. You shrug it off, “Not at all, by all means,” you jerk your head to the seat. He takes the opportunity to hold your gloved hand to his lips. He places a gentle kiss against your knuckles. That wasn’t a common thing around here.

Usually, the men here would avoid even looking at you. But his eyes are hooded, as he stares directly into yours. Still cradling your gloved hand in his, “Tell me my dear; why on earth would such a beauty sit alone in a place like this?”

You smirk then look away, “To tell you the truth, I’m still trying to figure that out myself...” You shrug, staring at the half-empty glass. He chuckles, “You my dear, are a diamond in the rough,” he winks. You look down shyly while cradling your drink. Not taking notice at his eyes lingering your bodice. He takes his sweet time admiring the rise and fall of your chest.

Tommy, however, had seen the entire interaction. He knew very well of your long list of secret admirers, fending them off was a job itself. He just couldn’t believe you’d do it so boldly in public. As soon as you were given an ounce of freedom. He excuses himself from a conversation that he'd been in since arriving. His ears pick up on what you were saying, “Try telling that to my-”

“Who is this?” Tommy voice is heard right behind you. The other man reaches in to shake his but your husband ignores the friendly gesture. His hands rest on your naked shoulders, causing shivers to rake up your spine. His cold blues stare down the other man.

Your eyes raise as you turn around, “…my husband.” your eyes widen in fear, “Tommy…this is…” you tried giving him an answer. But he hadn't given you a chance to explain, instead he interrupts, “I can’t even leave without you making a fool out of me.” he scolds. He always spoke to you as of you were a child. As if he weren't the one who made you a woman. He looks at what you’re wearing. There are visible peaks from your breasts hardening from the cool air, leaving very little to the imagination. Something that should only be open to his view only. He pulls you out of your seat, the other man intervenes, “You’ve mistaken sir, see I-”

“Piss off,”

“I beg your pardon?”

“And stay the fuck away from my wife,”

Tommy doesn’t give him a second glance. He quickly removes his coat and throws it on your shoulders. He drags you by the arm out of the pub. His brothers are quick to catch up on what was happening.

Was he mad about your dress? Surely, you hadn’t meant to push him. Were you over dressed for the occasion? Or did he think you were flirting intentionally with a stranger? You were all alone and had no one to talk to! It's not like you wanted to sleep with the bloke!

But that didn’t matter now. Tommy was mad, very mad. It couldn’t be jealousy. Not with Tommy, no, It wasn’t jealousy. It was possession. Even if it were he was doing a damn good job at hiding it. The real reason was that you disobeyed his authority. You knew what would come from his anger alone. You didn't seek his approval for your outfit tonight. Which only meant a punishment was in store. The last thing you hear before being thrown into his car, was the sound of a gunshot firing.

Tommy muffles your screams with his gloved palm. You became dizzy. A sickness began to consume you. Trying your best not to puke in the passenger seat. When the car stops, Tommy is the first to exit. He slams the car door behind him. You stay put. Not as an act of defiance, but out of pure fear. So scared that it left you physically paralyzed. Consumed by a strong feeling of anxiety. He was going to kill you, just like that man. At that moment you knew, you would never be safe around him. You had to get away from him no matter what.

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Hidden Treasure (Part 4)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Manhandling, Physical assault, Domestic violence, Battery, Loss of Virginity.

Author's note(s): ***Trigger warning for this chapter***

Tommy strides your way. He marches until he’s face-to-face with you. He is not a man who takes kindly to waiting. He expects an answer from you and he expects one now.

He begins to strip himself. To your surprise, a military physique had been hiding underneath, decorated with tattoos. He tosses his suspenders to the floor, expecting you to follow. To his dismay, you were still ogling him like a schoolgirl. He lets out a long sigh, now clearly annoyed. He gives you a hard glare. You squirm underneath his gaze, “Mr. Shelby this...I’m not experienced in...I-I don’t want to disappoint you or anything...” eyes beginning to water as you dodge his gaze. Staring down at your lap.

Your hands are shaking while trying to unbutton the gown. Before even reaching the last pearl, Tommy’s patience gets the best of him. He yanks the top of your dress down, exposing your breasts to the cool air. Your hands are quick to cover them, but Tommy is quicker to hold both your wrists in place, "Stop.” he warns. His voice is deep, tired from today's events. He doesn't have to play pretend anymore.

You try to free your hands, pulling at his grip, but his strength was more than thrice compared to yours. He pulls you in. Until you’re face-to-face with him. He tells you one last time to get undressed. When you only stare back at him, Tommy shoves you onto the bed. You landed with such a force that it causes your body to bounce from the impact. Tommy Shelby doesn't take kindly to disobedience.

You scurry back until your shoulder hits the frame of the bed. He doesn’t waste any time removing his shirt. He reveals his toned figure in the dim lighting. You kept your legs crossed and bent away from your him. He sighs at the dramatics. Now he’s annoyed. He’ll have to do something about your little act of defiance.

He's paid a fair price for your hand, and for what? A disrespectful wife. Tommy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a hidden blade. It's small, but sharp enough to get the work done. Your dress, the dress that you’d dreamt of since you were a little girl, was now being shred to pieces. Your styled hair was now a mess after being manhandled by him.

Tommy’s stares down your quivering form. His eyes rake up and down your now nude body. Your face heats up with embarrassment. He's satisfied with what he's purchased. Only leaving you with the diamond necklace. It was a custom-made choker, made to resemble a collar. A sign of ownership.

It had been a while since he'd taken another woman. He hadn’t felt quite this excited in a while. His pants are straining and the binding around his waist only made it worse. He swiftly unclasps his belt, the jingle of it made your eyes widen with shock. Only when he pulls his trousers down do you abruptly look away.

This was supposed to be normal, wasn’t it? Yet the act of making love to your husband made you feel utterly sickened, almost disgusted with yourself. Tommy held both your ankles in his hands and with a pull as you glided across the bed. At this point you're frozen. Afraid of what his next move will be. A large hand grazes your waist, taking it’s time to feel the smooth, exposed skin there. His long fingers slid in between your legs. Tears begin to blur your vision. Small trickles of tears start to flow down your cheeks. Not wanting to see what comes next, you shut your eyes.

Tommy had a feeling you’d be like this. Wherever he’d go. No matter how many times he’d try to prove himself to be worthy of respect. Outsiders like you would always see him as the lowest of society. You think you're better than him, eh? He scoffs, “You never expected to marry my kind, did you?” Tommy doesn’t bother sugar-coating it. He knew what a young woman growing up in high society would want in a husband.

A widowed, peaky blinder, let alone their leader of all people. They weren’t traits that unmarried women would traditionally look for. Hell, he expected nothing else but a reaction like this. You stare at him in confusion. His kind? You mean a perverted beast of a man? A wolf in sheep's clothing? An impatient brute?  Of course, you would despise him for all of those traits! You scowl, “Any good woman would,”

“Is that so?” Tommy tilts his head up your face you his brows raised. His blue eyes bore into your soul. His expression is livid. He pumps his shaft for a few moments before aiming it against your folds. A high-pitched whine escapes your lips, as you shake your head. Begging, no pleading with him to stop. He begins to push himself in. Your eyes brim with fresh tears from the burning stretch as he shoves his member in. You lash out on instinct, scratching at his face and neck, hard enough to draw blood across his cheekbone. He snatches both of your wrists to the sides of your head. His breathing became raspy. Not from the struggle, but from his temper.

You could see his jaw flex out of anger. His voice booms, “You want it rough?! I’ll fucking show you rough!” as soon as he pulls out his girth, he slams it right back in. Your walls convulse in pain. You bite your bottom lip, drawing blood while fresh tears pour out. But still, even while in such pain you refuse to make a sound. Not even a sniffle. Tommy became agitated at your refusal to say anything. He growls in your face, “You’ve got something to say now? Go on…” he presses his sweaty forehead against yours, “SAY SOMETHING!!” he spat. You turn your head to the side in disgust. Never in your life would you have thought to meet someone so cruel. Let alone willingly marry him.

Tommy lifts your legs. He rests the back of your knees above his broad shoulders, folding you in half in order to deepen his thrusts. Your thighs were held up against your chest. It hurt, everything hurt. Tommy didn’t want this to feel special. He wants to prove a point. That no one would be an exception when it came to crossing him. No one has ever or will ever walk away from him. You little wife, were no exception.

He pounds himself through climax, not even slowing down to catch his breath. You could feel his harsh huffs against your neck. Along with harsh bites and nicks that sunk into the skin there. His expression twists for a moment before calming, basking in his own pleasure, the selfish bastard.

Nothing about your first night was romantic or special. Just ruthless, nonstop, animalistic rutting. He looks down at your form, palming your bundle of nerves. When you jolt at the sensation, he couldn't help but chuckle from your reaction. From your tear-stricken eyes to your quivering lips. A trickle of blood ran down your chin. He pokes his tongue out to have a taste. Humming with approval. He needs more....more, more!

Your body twists and turns from the painful intrusion. Each hard thrust sent your body forward, only to be pulled back in by Tommy’s iron grip that held your hips. He leans into the crook of your neck to nip and suckle for bruises to form. His face and chest are now flushed red. He takes in a deep breath against the side of your neck.

Tommy lets out a final, deep-guttered moan before bottoming inside. When he pulls out a trail of his arousal leaks from your swollen folds. He feels something else stick to his thighs but ignores it. Probably your own finish. He never really cared if the sex would get messy. That was a way to tell if it was good. In fact, he had already been used to it from his many days spent in the whorehouse. He retrieves his white shirt to wipe himself off with. But as soon as he looked at his manhood his eyes widen. It wasn’t what he'd thought. Not at all. He’d been wrong, so very wrong.

Tommy turns around to face the horrific sight. Your limp body lying still on the bed. With small trickles of blood leaking from your abused hole. The crimson blots are in stark contrast to the creamy-white bed sheets. There’s a faint smell of copper in the air, along with the strong stench of sex. His hands are balled into fists. Shaking until he plants a hole into the wall, causing the entire room to quake from the impact.

His angered outburst triggers a shriek to escape your lips, “Please! God please–please n-no more! Please!” as you finally broke down. Unable to hide your now naked form, your hands reach up to cover your face in shame. Your feared he would continue to hurt you; the damage already being done. He now knew where the root of your disobedience came from. It wasn’t hatred. No…how he wishes it were that instead. It was because you genuinely terrified, and you had every right to be. Any woman would be afraid of her first time.

Shit...

Tommy had done it again. It was rare to find a woman from the city that saved herself. He lets out an exasperated sigh before heading to the washroom. You can hear the water running. You try curling into a ball. It’s difficult to move around when you can’t even feel your lower half. After spending hours forced into such a position. You didn't know what to do. Cry? Escape? To where exactly? This was your home now, sobbing at the realization. Tommy Shelby, your husband, is truly the cruelest man to have ever walked the face of earth.

Easy Money (Part 6)

Dark!Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Heiress!Reader

Warning(s): +18, Non-con, Kidnapping, Hostage Situation, Domestic abuse.

Author's Note(s): I hate using the word "daddy" with all my heart. So, what better way to express my hatred than to write about it?!

Robert is thriving in a state of blissful marriage. You on the other hand, not so much.

You would wake up, make him breakfast, pack lunch, all while he watched some rented porn. During the climax scenes Robert would pat his lap, signaling for you to get on your knees as he enjoys the rest of his show. After finishing off he usually leaves for ‘work’. He’d only ever let you wear a sundress or an array of slip-on garments. All for easy access. Some of them were slightly used. You never questioned where there came from. Not after noticing bits of blood sprinkled on them. You’d rather not think about it for very long. It made it all the more bearable to wear.

A white-picket fence life was never your thing. Yet here you were, living in the fucked-up version of it.

As Robert began sliding his work shoes on, you wait for him to leave. Only then could you get comfortable. You dare not to look up. In case he catches your gaze. Eye contact always led to him staying longer. You turn around and begin sweeping the living room floor. You stop as soon as you realize he hadn’t moved. Were you forgetting something? You look up. Although his expression hadn’t shown his anger his arms were crossed, “Don’t I get my kiss?” he tilts his head to the side.

Scared of what he might do next, you lean in to kiss his stubble cheek. Before you could retreat from the peck, he quickly turns his head to the side and traps you and a firm kiss. His hands grab at your rear. His long fingers start pulling up your skirt. His digits prod against your opening from behind. You squirm from his unwanted embrace. But seeing you struggle only encourages him to continue. 

You were repulsed from the taste of him. He reeked of cigarettes and musky cologne. Being in his presence alone had irked you, the sooner he’d leave the sooner you’d be left in peace.

Daily chores were all you could do. Your work had been handled by Robert through the phone, he was the sole provider in the house now that you weren’t working. He had stolen the only documents of your company and locked them in his ‘office’.

So, the only option ever given to you was the role of the housewife. Andy would help you with what he could. He was the perfect companion and a very patient child. He’s always eager to please and enjoys doing the dishes with you. A part of you hoped that once he got older, he would accomplish great things. All he’s ever wants to do is help people.

You were vacuuming the bedroom when you hear a crumpling sound. Turning off the machine you take a look at what had been caught. It’s a small book. A journal he kept hiding in plain sight. Part of you hoped it had evidence of his heinous crimes. Each page had a written date, almost like a… journal? No, there were titles for each section of the book.

Training.

Obedience.

Care.

Punishments.

Was this some sort of training book? He made a book dedicated to molding a wife. But why?

The first entry was written around the same time Robert kidnapped you and Andy. After living an entire year with this monster, the contents of what this book had made you downright terrified. He narrates it from his own point of view. How to capture and lure one’s ‘bait’. You couldn’t believe it.

Then it hit you. This wasn’t for Robert’s own enjoyment. It was supposed to be some sort of training manual. Something that he wanted to pass onto your son. He was making sure Andy would one day use this book on some poor woman. A chill ran down your spine. You’ll be damned if he ever taught your son to be a monster. There will never be a cycle for as long as you’re still breathing.

“Mama.” Andy’s voice chirps. He holds a small plastic shovel in his hands. Today you promised him to play outside. You held him close, clutching onto him until he whined from the pressure. You let go of him carefully. As if he were made of glass. You cupped his chubby cheeks, “As soon as he gets home, okay?” never bothering to call Robert ‘dad’ let alone ‘daddy’. Only when he was physically around. There would be hell to pay if you didn’t address him properly.

You and Andy had been out in the sun all day. You held him by his underarms as he leapt over a sprinkler. Of course, you wouldn’t be alone. The ankle monitor you wore had been a courtesy from one of Robert’s clients. He kept his shed door cracked open. Which meant from time-to-time Andy’s attention would go to his father you would try your best to distract him. But after a while he finally spoke up, “How come daddy doesn’t wanna come out?” he points to the shed.

Originally posted by foreverfreo

Robert’s back is faced towards you. Cooped up in his own world. For some reason your angel wanted to be a part of it. Over your dead body, “He’s really busy baby. It’s not good to go in while he’s busy.” you rub his small back. You notice his complexion is redder than before. Sighing at a possible sunburn, the daily struggle of having a child with an Irish father. You went inside to retrieve more sunscreen.

For some reason your Andy was too stubborn to take a hint. Because as soon as you step back out with sunscreen on a tray and drinks Andy decides that he wants to spend time with dad, right in his serial-killer lair. You almost drop the platter on a table as you made a run for the shed. You’ve dreaded for this day to come. How were you going to explain to him that his ‘hero’ killed for people for a living?

You slam the door open, causing Robert tilt his head around. Andy is sat on his lap. Robert isn’t annoyed at all by the soaking-wet child making himself comfortable. You briefly scan the place for anything dangerous or out of the ordinary, then look back at him in confusion. It really was just a normal shed. Having nothing wrong with it is exactly what made it so odd. You approach him warily. He always knew when you were watching. That’s how his little mind games usually start.

His eyes are hooded as he licks his lips. You know realize why. Your summer dress had been drenched from the activity from earlier. The fabric clung to your curves. Your wet hair stuck to your neck. He scoops Andy up in one arm. His gaze doesn’t falter even the slightest. Robert was like a hungry wolf. A beast that was holding your little lamb hostage. You cross your arms to hide what little decency you had. He gives a crooked grin, “Hey sport, why don’t you let me and mom chat for a bit, hm?” he places him on the ground before shooing him off.

Andy nods, “Okay daddy.” he stands on his toes to give his father a quick hug before leaving. Your poor boy had no idea what went on when his parents were ‘chatting’. You wait until your son makes it past the door, closing it behind him. You pay attention to the noise outside for a moment. Soon the sounds of his small steps are quiet. You let out a relieved sigh then turn around.

You’re face-to-face with him. He glances at your chest “Drop ‘em.” his voice is stern. Slowly, you pull your arms away. Revealing your now see-through dress, nipples already hardening from the friction. Your shoulders sink in an attempt to hide the peaks.

A large hand of his reaches to pat your temple, brushing back the hair from your face. It glides to the back of your neck where goosebumps develop. Robert darts his tongue out to swipe at his pout, “Is my kitten cold?” he always had a playful way with his words. You nod. His hand on the back of your neck pulls you into a kiss. His tongue poke against your bottom lip, motioning for access. You part your mouth open. He wastes no time delving in.

Every part of it was an act of possessiveness. Both of his hands now cup the round of your backside to rake up your skirt. With a yank the wet fabric was off of your damp skin. Robert had bunched it up your waist. He lifts you off the ground and you automatically wrap your legs around him. The kissing doesn’t break until you reach his desk. He plops you down. His head tilts to the side of yours where he starts to nip at the exposed skin.

His mouth drags from your jaw to your neck, to in between your breasts, until he bends down to your skirt. He lifts the damp fabric. You instantly part your legs for him. He hums in approval before giving a long, wet kiss against your folds. His lips wrap around your crease as his nose brushed against your bundle of nerves. He knows you love that.

It was different this time around. You could actually see him in action. You never took notice to how his long his lashes were. How prominent his features are underneath all that facial hair. How some freckles were developing from staying outside too long. Your mind went to putty when he got started. You hiss when he licks a long, hard stripe against your bud. You can’t help but lift your hips up for a better angle. His open mouth welcomes it. He pokes his tongue in and out of your opening. Practically moaning into your mound.

Your dripping folds with a mixture of his spit creates lewd squelching sounds each time his tongue muscle would plunge itself in and out. Your eyes grow wide from the sight. Your legs begin to quake. A tap to his shoulder lets him know that you were almost there. He yanks his pants down while standing back up. He practically lunges towards you.

Robert pulls your hips against the end of the desk. He prods against your slick opening before entering in one hard thrust, causing the entire desk to shake. Your nails dig into the fabric of his white tank. The bastard didn’t wait for you to adjust. That must’ve been the reason why he went downtown prior.

He pulls out before shoving his entire length in again. His strength alone sends you back against the desk. He crouches against your frame. You wrap your arms around his waist. Your hands slide under his shirt. Your nails dig into his pale skin in retaliation. Leaving angry red scratches. He hisses from the sensation, letting out a deep, guttural groan. He loves a kitten with claws.

He drags his length out until only his tip remained inside then slams it back in again. Just to hear you howl. Never once leaving you empty. He pulls your hand against his mouth before sucking on your digits, signaling you to touch yourself. You now wet pads reach for the hood of your clit. Massaging it in small, frantic circles.

Robert grunts, “Does it feel good baby?” he waits for a reply. You nod at him frantically. Robert isn’t satisfied. He slaps away your wrist away from your bud, “I said does it feel good?!” his voice is deeper, more demanding. Robert stops thrusting all together, waiting for an answer.

Your thoughts were cloudy as you frantically search for the right words, “Y-yes..” you whine from a cock-drunken haze. He slaps against your bundle of nerves, “Who makes you feel this way? Hm?!” his hand strikes your sensitive hood again, denying you the pleasure of finishing off. You gave in, as always, “You do! P-please!”

“Please what baby?” he wanted to hear the title he’d given himself. Hear you call him that special word. A name you absolutely hated to call him.

“P-please daddy make me feel good!”

Like music to his ears.

“Now, what do you say?”

“T-thank you,”

“For what?” his hand wraps around your throat. You’re a mumbling mess. His entire body weight is flush against yours as he pistons his hips. At this point, the pressure might as well break the legs off the table.

“Thank you for fucking me how I like it…aAh!” you grunt from the sensitivity. Tears trickle down your cheeks.

Robert’s thrusting is harder than ever. Skin slapping against each other could be heard only the slightest from outside. Your walls pump his seed out. His forehead is pressed against yours. You don’t bother getting up. Still winded from the aftermath. The bottom of your dress is still hiked over your waist. Your now filled cunt hangs off the end of his desk. Your breasts glisten with sweat.

All over your chest were small bruises left behind. You pry yourself up with an elbow. You reach down to cover yourself. Robert chimes in, “Wait. Don’t move.” he fumbles around, looking for something. He turns to you with a Polaroid camera in his hands. He holds it to his eye, leaning in to get a good angle, “Smile.”

You’re not amused. He could care less if you did it or not. Actually, having you pout would be cuter. He snaps a photo, and the flash goes off. He gives the fresh photo a shake. He raises a brow and whistles, “My, my, what a slutty little wife I have…” Robert pockets the photo as he lifts you from the table. Your legs are a bit shaken after wearing them out. Like a newborn fawn trying to take it’s first steps. It was hard walking while your thighs are clenched together. Harder than it looks.

You grip his arm tight. He enjoys the sight of you squirming because of him. A swell of pride strains his pants. He’s right behind you. Stalking close by. He presses his arousal against your backside. His hands are at your hips to hold you in place. He grinds his erection hard enough for you to feel it. His voice is a whisper, “Here. Let me.” he reaches for your skirt. A knee parts your legs while his palm presses in between. On hand holds your folds open with his fingers while to other is cupped underneath, catching the spunk dripping out. You grunt as more escapes for Robert to collect.

He holds it to your face for you to see. You can only think of one thing: Shame.

That’s when you hear the door knock, “Mama?” Andy politely calls. You were grateful to teach him that at an early age. After a while of not hearing anything, he opens the door. You shove yourself from Robert’s grip. Almost falling to the floor in the process. You slide up the straps of your dress before the door completely opens. A curious little Andy misses his mommy and daddy.

You usher Andy to go out, promising him you’ll be out in a minute. You turn around to glare daggers at Robert, “Could you please not do that? Or at least hold back while Andy is around.” you scoff before leaving. Robert clicks his tongue.

Little did you know it was Robert who invited him in.