#dark!mr freezy smut

[babyjakes]

devils roll the dice.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompts | sex tape + medfet

pairing | hitman!robert pronge x innocent!reader

warnings | extremely dark, the darkest thing i've ever written (we've entered dead dove do not eat territory; please heed ALL warnings.) canon-level mature themes: kidnapping, torture films, murder. implications that reader will be killed. robert is cold and ruthless. innocent!virgin!reader. filming of illicit sex tape. reader is blindfolded and gagged. restraints. medfet elements: robert's little setup is giving vintage white tile exam room, exam table, stirrups, those gd black gloves, speculum use. clit focus (puff puff content incoming.) vibrator. multiple forced orgasms. squirting. overstimulation. mocking and degradation. robert puts a cig out on reader's leg. written in 3rd person idk.

word count | 1,485

an | i'm kind of sitting here like wtf, ,, what is this and how did it come out of me lol. a little nervous to post, but i trust you guys to make responsible decisions about the media you consume!!! i'll probably never write something this fucked up again but for whatever reason it was just flowing out of me tonight folks, please again i'm begging you go read the warnings, like a second time through wouldn't hurt lol, and i hope you enjoy!!

Bringing its bitter end to his lips, Robert used one hand to draw in a deep breath of his dwindling cigarette, the other lazily holding a black magic wand in its designated place. He was nearly an hour into the day's filming session, and his subject was reaching a level of exhaustion and misery that made her more annoying to play with than anything else. But knowing he needed to milk at least a little more footage out of her before putting her back under and calling it a day, the man kept at the task. He tried to remind himself that he should be enjoying himself; considering the kinds of commissions he generally had to choose from, this particular case was a treat. A pretty little virgin, as soft and pure as the early spring rain, with the most stunning body the criminal had ever had the privilege of defiling. He could spend another thirty minutes at his station, watching as all the life and dignity were drained out of his poor little victim like blood dripping to the cold tile floor.

Through the musty cloth rammed between her battered lips, the poor girl's cries were escalating as her tormentor swirled the curve of the wand's slick bulb over her burning clit. Robert knew what her worsening wails meant; with a callous grin, he pulled his cig from his mouth just in time to press its smoking end to the girl's inner thigh as she came. With the howl she let out, he was thankful for the buffer the gag provided. "Noisy little bitch," he laughed as her juices sprayed out against his gloved hands. "That's it, slut. Fucking take it."

Glancing at the camcorder sitting off to his side, Robert considered his options. As much satisfaction as he derived from seeing how many orgasms could be wrung out of the poor thing before her body knocked her out as an act of mercy, his sadistic tendencies were getting bored of the monotony. Tossing the used cigarette to the floor, the man slowed the wand to a stop. He rolled away slightly on his stool, tossing the condom that was wrapped over the toy's head into the large black trash bag sitting in the center of the large room's floor. This far into his career, Robert had his methods down to a science. There was a way to keep everything clean, everything untraceable.

It was the whole purpose of his "worksite"; it provided a secure, controlled environment for the entire job to take place in, from start to flatline finish. The "set" was by far his favorite portion of the space, and understandably so, as it's where his sick imagination got to run wild for hours, days on end. And his clients were just as enthusiastic about the vivid stage he had put together for their subjects to shine on. It was somewhat inspired by a vintage gynecology office. He had the classic off-white exam table, equipped with a daunting pair of metal stirrups that were always positioned just a little wider than what would be comfortable. A sturdy set of restraints were of course a must, and to make sure the camera picked up on every agonizing detail, he had installed an adjustable surgical light overhead that could be aimed and drawn in to illuminate any area or action he chose. He hadn't struggled to gather all the tools and instruments he could ever want, either. A few of his buyers were licensed professionals themselves, opening the door to acquiring inventory from the big-name brands in bulk.

The other corners of the room had their designated uses as well: one with a filthy mattress for the unconscious victims to waste away on as heavy drugs pumped through their systems, another with large plastic sheets covering the floor, walls, and ceiling where the poor souls were hosed down (inside and out) before a bullet to the temple inevitably ended their long days of suffering. But most of their waking hours were spent on that dreaded padded table, the very spot where Robert's most recent capture was using the few moments he spent away from his station desperately trying to regain control of her breathing.

He returned to his position swiftly after switching out his soiled pair of black gloves for fresh ones, not wanting to waste any of his or his client's time. The sight of the girl's abused sex was enough to make the man drool; it had been quite some time since he had seen such a marvelous-looking cunt, so glorious in its messy destruction. Knowing he should share the beautiful sight, he took the time to adjust the camera, zooming in from a full-body shot to focus solely on the spot between the victim's legs. With the humiliating inspection he was preparing to perform, he wanted to be sure his buyer got to see each drop of come the poor girl let out, every twitch and spasm he would pull from her helpless body.

"Now let's see here," the man breathed as he brought his gloved fingers up to gently spread out the ruined-looking pussy before him. Noticing the way his subject winced as her puffy folds were pried open, he couldn't help but laugh in dark delight. He drew his attention to her throbbing clit, noting how much it had grown in size from all those unwanted orgasms he had forced out of her. Its hood was completely retracted, leaving the poor bud exposed to the open air. In a moment of perverted curiosity, Robert pinched the hardened nub harshly between his fingers, earning the prettiest sob he had heard from the girl all day. He chuckled once more, rolling and pulling at the knot of flesh for a few more seconds of additional torture before finally moving his hands away.

"What do you think? Should we try for one more?" he mused mockingly as he grabbed a plastic speculum from one of the drawers built in beneath the table, unwrapping it and tossing its trash to the side before pausing to grin deviously over his victim. Glancing up at her head, he realized it was still covered with a black hood he had put on her at the beginning of the shoot. The buyer had requested for her to be blindfolded like this for a decent portion of the film, offering the explanation that she was "afraid of the dark," and that he wanted to see her in as much pain and fear as humanly possible. The hood had served its purpose for the day, but now, Robert wanted the poor girl to see each and every way he was going to be violating her body in real time. In one swift motion, he reached up and pulled the pocket of fabric away, exposing her stunning tear-stained face. "Hi sweetheart," he greeted viciously. Just as he was hoping, her cries worsened as she saw the dreaded tool in his hands. He had a certain liking for holding up the devices he was preparing to use to see his victim's reactions; after all, he got off on fear and dread just as much as his clients did.

"Time to open up this pretty little cunt and see what kind of damage we did," the man enthused as he forced the tip of the instrument into the girl's drenched opening. By now, she had been well stretched out and ruined by her captor's horrific methods. Grappling with his usual lack of restraint and self-control, Robert had barely made the drive back with the girl tied up in his trunk without pulling over and popping that perfect little cherry on his own time, without a single camera properly rolling.

Turning the speculum as it was fully inserted, the man took great pleasure in squeezing the handle to force the tool open, each tiny click that sounded only stretching the poor thing's aching walls out to a further, more painful degree. "There," he sighed in satisfaction as the last notch was reached. Pulling his hands away, he gave himself and the camera a few seconds to enjoy the view of the girl's milky insides, so worn and sore from the days of torture she'd endured.

"Alright. One more," he finally hummed, using his gloved fingers to collect some of the plentiful slick dripping from the speculum before dragging them up to find that adorable little button he loved bullying so much. Her fading sobs were revived in an instant, her throat growing hoarse from all the screaming she'd done. But as much as she cried, Robert was determined to get one final orgasm from her before putting her back under for the day. After spending so much time making that pretty pussy as puffy and sensitive as possible, he deserved to see it coming all stretched out painfully over his instrument of choice.

[deceitfuldevout]

'Easy Money' Masterlist:

Dark!Robert Pronge x Heiress!Reader

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

Part 1 - Easy Money: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706183176153923584/easy-money-part-1?source=share

Part 2 - Breaking and Entering: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706183378711511040/easy-money-part-2?source=share

Part 3 - Money Maker: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706295047580270592/easy-money-part-3?source=share

Part 4 - A Reunion: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706295259765850112/easy-money-part-4?source=share

Part 5 - Your Worst Nightmare: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706379812461281280/easy-money-part-5?source=share

Part 6 - A Barbed-Wired Picket fence: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706379816368226304/easy-money-part-6?source=share

[steviebbboi]

Okayyyyy— Prince is getting at me now 🥵

Poison Paradise AU: Bobby and Kitten

Last Updated: 02/11/2024

Pairing: Mr. Freezy x hit woman!reader

Series Summary: Robert was sure he could settle for a fake domestic life as long as he could go on killing. Little did he know that you could give him everything he needed.

Series Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, violence, murder, occasional gore, domestic violence, no minors!

Keep reading

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

2023 Kinktober Masterlist

I'm so sorry for not posting like at all this year but it's been a very long and rough year and I will do my best to continue this month but if I miss a day it's because of writer's block or work but anyway here is my Kinktober masterlist and what I have planned for you all, my wonderful amazing readers! I hope you like the thigh clenching, panty soaking, jean tightening thrill of smut! I hope you enjoy!

Banners by: @vase-of-lilies​

Key: Fluff; 🌙 // Angst;  👿 // Smut; 🔥 // Dark; 🕸️

Day 1: Semi-Public (Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Drummer!Steve Harrington x Groupie!Fem!Reader) 🔥 Day 2: Stepcest (Stepbrother!Ransom Drysdale x Stepsister!Fem!Reader)🔥🌙👿 Day 3: Size Difference (Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Petite!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥 Day 4: S&M (Masochist!Eddie Munson x Sadist!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥 Day 5: Fucking Machine (Mr. Freezy(Robert Pronge) x Fem!Reader) 🔥🕸️ Day 6: Body Worship (Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader) 🔥🌙 Day 7: Stripping (Shy!Jake Jensen x Stripper!Fem!Reader) Day 8: Hate Sex (Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader) Day 9: DP in One Hole (Married!Steddie x Babysitter!Fem!Reader) Day 10: Fisting (Lee Bodecker x Fem!Reader) Day 11: Pregnancy (Steve Harrington x Pregnant!Fem!Reader) Day 12: Deepthroating or Facesitting (Sub!Jake Jensen x Dom!Fem!Reader) Day 13: Orgasm Denial (Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader) Day 14: Rimming (Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader) Day 15: Glory Hole (Post TFAWS!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader) Day 16: Breeding (Dad!Thor Odinson x Mom!Fem!Reader) Day 17: Masturbation (Jim Hopper x Secretary!Fem!Reader) Day 18: Spanking (Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader) Day 19: Humiliation (Mob!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader) Day 20: Tentacles (Part-Kraken!Lee Bodecker x Pirate!Fem!Reader) Day 21: Sex Toys (Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader) Day 22: Pegging (Human!Castiel x Fem!Reader) Day 23: Costumes (Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader) Day 24: Shotgunning (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader) Day 25: Daddy Kink (Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader) Day 26: Virginity (Virgin!40s!Stucky x Experienced!Fem!Reader) Day 27: Titfucking (Wade Wilson x Plus-sized!Fem!Reader) Day 28: Body Worship (Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader) Day 29: Breathplay (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader) Day 30: Squirting (Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader) Day 31: Bondage (Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader)

[georgiapeach30513]

Sweet Cherry Pops Masterlist

No one ever said that love was easy.  Try falling for a possessive murderer for hire, and when he’s in prison, and you’re pregnant with his daughter, he leaves his friend and colleague to look after you. You and Cherry spent way too much time together, and when Freezy comes back, you all have to navigate a changing relationship.

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

A/N:  this story is a sequel to Mr. Freezy Pops so if you haven’t read that this story MIGHT be very confusing.  This is going to be a dark-ish fic (mostly because their murderers for hire), there will be themes of obsession, possessive behavior, jealousy, branding, heavy/dark smut and each chapter will be labeled accordingly.  Please read ALL warnings ahead of time, you are the one responsible for the content you consume.  Minors DNI

[ellethespaceunicorn]

I just sent in a request!!!

BOOST!

❆ 𝑭.𝑯: 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑷𝑻𝑺 (𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑)

psstt! — minors, do not interact! 18+ only, just like my blog. do not plagiarize, copy, translate, repost, copy or recreate my writing on any other public platforms. heed the warnings, and remember you are responsible for your media consumption.

info. — in honour of the holiday season, mr. hansen has decided to open requests! how kind is he? they will be posted in the next week or so, and will be written by me (sab). if you ask nicely, the man himself will even make an appearance!

format. — the requests will be submitted to this form. you will select one character, one AU (if desired), one dialogue prompt, and one kink/key element. all concepts will be dark, no matter what. there is an option for you to leave your username so i can tag you when i post your request. you may always remain anonymous.

time. — concepts will be written and posted as fast as possible. by december 30th, 2023, they should all be completed. please bear with me, as i can be quite a slow writer. thank you for your patience.

the form is now open, and will close when i’ve received enough.

show mr. hansen your gratitude by sending a request! isn't he such a sweet man?

NAVIGATION. ❆ @hansensfics. ❆ NEON PALM.

Andy Barber + Yandere + “Think an old man like me can keep up?” + conditioning/grooming.

[littlelioncub43]

Evil Woman

Summary: Bobby doesn’t know how to feel about you. You scare the shit out of him. You piss him off more than anyone he’s ever met. You also fuck him so good he can barely think. Whatever he thinks about you, one thing was certain: you were evil.

Pairing: Dark!Mob Boss!Reader x sub!Robert Pronge

Warning: smut (18+ ONLY, minors DNI), dark!reader, mean!reader, mentions of violence, sub!Robert Pronge, praise kink, oral sex (f receiving), mistress kink, mentions of past sexy times, Bobby slowly breaking, slight subspace, slight dacryphilia kink, allusions to future sexy times, and a partridge in a pear tree. 

Word Count: 1,927

A/N: Whoooooooooooooo! This was a lot of fun to write! I was feeling like we needed a lengthy little Bobby fic, and these babies were on my mind. I have a part 2 to this situation plotted out in my head, so let me know if you guys would be interested in reading that! It feels so nice to be writing like this again. Send an ask, reblog, comment, or something— let me know how you guys liked it! Ok! I love you 💖🫂🎂

Kisses 💋

—K

Bobby didn’t quite know how he felt about you. He didn’t love you, the scar along his tongue was enough to justify that. He didn’t hate you, which was surprising given your track record with him. He’s hated people for not shaking his hand firm or mispronouncing his name, so the fact that his heart skips a beat and his cock swells at the sound of your voice calling for him from your office confuses him to no end. 

And Bobby hates being confused. 

The sour look on his face only made you smile wider at him as he entered the room and stood obediently at the center of the floor. You adored when he was like this, playing with him when he was in a mood meant he was easier to tease. Easier to break. 

“I’ll be working late tonight, so I’ll have to cancel our little date,” you lie through your teeth, selling the act with a faux pout. You notice how Bobby’s natural scowl deepens at the news. As much as he’d like to deny it, but Bobby was looking forward to seeing you. “I don’t think I’ll be available until Sept—“

“But—“ he interrupts, but quickly stops when your eyebrows shoot up, your head cocked in surprise. He clenches his jaw to keep from speaking any further. 

“But?” You prompt and lean back into your black leather chair, the power that radiates off of you has him weak in the knees and nearly trembling. 

“But… I wanted to see you…” He knew lying wouldn’t serve him, it never has, not with you. You smirk at his words, playing with the pen in your hands idly. Looking at him through your lashes, you beckon for him to come to you. Bobby squeezes his hands into fists but does as you order him. Without a word, he settles on his knees next to you, keeping his hands on his thighs and his back straight. 

“You wanted to see me, pet?” You coo gently as you take in his features, your hand cupping his chin in your fingers. The combination of your soft voice and soothing touch sends Bobby into a tizzy. His gut told him not to trust your softness, but his needy heart told him to chase after it. Which one would win was yet to be decided. 

“Yes, Mistress,” he answers dutifully, his own eyes were transfixed on yours when they settled on his. He definitely didn’t hate you. He fought the urge to roll his eyes when you lean in a little, internally scolding himself for leaning into your palm when you hold his jaw. You wanted to laugh at how needy and pathetic he was being, but you managed to keep your giggles to yourself. Sliding your hand into his hair, you grip the long strands firmly, pulling a breathy grunt from Bobby’s lips.

“Poor baby,” you mutter and bring your lips to brush against his cheek, his eyes shutting softly despite his better judgement. You pull back, shaking his head lightly so he opens his eyes, your gaze was smoldering, like molten lava burning beneath the surface. “How’s your tongue, Bobby?”

“Good,” he gulps at the memory of your knife and the searing pain that followed it. You tap his bottom lip. 

“Show me,” your voice is level and cool, he sticks his tongue out hesitantly, revealing the scar that encompassed his tongue. You can’t help but grin and hum darkly at the sight. “Oh, look at how nicely it healed,” your thumb pet the length of his tongue sensually, letting his saliva drip messily. You give him a saddened pout, one that he almost believes. “I hated doing that to you, Bobby. I don’t like hurting you, but you needed to be taught a lesson. But look at you now,” you smile softly at him and kiss his forehead briefly, still petting his tongue, “so well behaved, such a good boy. Aren’t you glad you learned your lesson, Bobby?”

Bobby found himself nodding and humming in agreement before he could think twice about his actions. His breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his cock now fully hard in his jeans as he kneeled in front of you. You bite your lip, clearly pleased with him, Bobby hates how his body hums with excitement and satisfaction at your approval. The enticing sight of a man like Robert Pronge on his knees for you was beginning to be too much for you to resist any longer. He grumbles out a low moan when you lips meet in a messy clash of tongue and teeth. It was second nature for him to try and dominate the kiss as much as he could, but one firm tug on his hair was enough of a reminder for him. 

“Don’t push it, Bobby,” you growl against his lips, the venom in your tone quickly set him straight. 

“M’sorry, Mistress,” he whispers, that fuzzy feeling taking over his head bit by bit until he couldn’t wait to follow your instructions. The purr of approval pulls him out of his stupor for a moment, enough for him to realize how humiliating this is, but the moment doesn’t last long. 

“I forgive you,” your words drip with lust and Bobby wants to drink each drop, “let’s put that pretty tongue of yours to good use, eh?” 

A deep moan flutters through his lips before he can think twice, his hands forcefully grip the rough denim of his jeans to keep from grabbing you. You giggle at how excited he was, the tent in his pants only seemed to grow bigger and bigger each time you glanced at it, and his breathing was nearly a strained gasp, like he couldn’t get enough oxygen no matter how many breaths he took. He was absolutely pathetic. 

You took some pity on him, though. He was being such a good boy for you, you couldn’t ignore that. Pulling up the short hem of your skirt, you slid to the edge of your seat, your crossed legs unwrapping to expose your black lace panties to him. The stockings you wore were meant to drive him crazy, and they did. Especially with the golden garters holding them in place against your juicy thighs. 

“Go on, Bobby,” you encourage with a gentle pet to his head, which is all he needs. He buries his face into your dripping cunt with a growl, his tongue eagerly chasing the pools of arousal that seep through your lace panites. The thin whine you give in response to his actions has Bobby scooting closer and closer to you, trying to cover as much of your pussy as he possibly could. The feeling of his hands pulling your panties off and pushing your thighs apart normally would make you tsk disapprovingly at him, but when he wiggled his thick tongue into your cunt, you forgot all about scolding him. 

“Oh, yes, Bobby! That’s it, baby,” you moan happily as he shakes his head from side to side, letting his nose rub firmly against your clit. His answering moan sends shivers up your spine, your hands gripping his hair firmly, guiding his already quick pace to a rough, filthy rhythm. Bobby hated his hair being pulled, he thought the sting at his scalp was annoying and demeaning. Now when he feels that sharp tug at his roots, he can’t help but moan for you. The sound, in turn, makes you whimper and pull even harder, trapping you both in a delicious cycle that neither of you want to break. 

“Such a good boy for me, Bobby— fuck! Just like that, eat my pussy, baby, keep going!” You whimper when he doubles down. Looking up at you, glasses slightly foggy and askew, and his spit lewdly coating your entire cunt and most of his chin and neck. That’s what you loved about Bobby; he was a messy fucking eater. You feel the winding tension in your lower gut grow tighter and tighter as your orgasm threatened to wash over you any second. The ache in his groin nearly distracted him, but he manages to keep his hands planted obediently on your thighs. He gives the meat of your thighs an appraising squeeze, moaning at the softness of your flesh under his hands while he frantically slurps at your juices. 

“M’gonna cum!” You moan thickly, your legs shaking and trembling, it almost had Bobby laughing with pride, but he knew to keep himself in check. As much as he wanted to laugh, he wanted you to cum. With one last thundering moan from the heartless killer between your thighs, you came. “Ohhhh fuuuuck!”

Bobby moaned with you, his eyes fluttering shut at the sweetness. The taste of your release pulls noises from him that he never thought was possible; needy, high pitched whimpers are muffled into your pussy as he lets you ride it out. The grip on his hair loosens as you come down, letting him ease back to breath through his nose better without taking his mouth off you just yet. 

You hum with a pleased smile, the simple sound told Bobby everything he needed to know: you were satisfied, he did a good job, and you just might  reward him. He finally pulls back after giving your clit one last tongue-filled kiss, knowing how much you love when he does that (he also loved the little gasp you give). 

“What do you say?” You prompt with a firm tone.  

“Thank you, Mistress,” he rasps in response, still trying to catch his breath. You hum again, and he relaxes knowing he hasn’t upset you with his lack of manners. He gasps when your hand cups his straining cock through his jeans.  

“Aw, still hard, Bobby?” You coo. He nods, trying his best not to rut into your hand. “I know you are, pet.” You straighten yourself up, not bothering to put your panties back on, instead opting to stuff them into Bobby’s front pocket. “That’s for being such a good boy for me,” you whisper in his ear, your hand playing with him in his pocket, “I’ll send for you when I can, but until then, you’ll have to wait.”

He wants to cry. Robert Pronge wants to cry. Your cruel laughter doesn’t help the aching in his balls or the pitiful tears in his eyes. 

“Poor baby,” you mock and kiss his face sweetly, or it would be sweet if it weren’t for your cruel words. “You’re so fucking hot when you cry, Bobby,” you sigh against his cheek, before musing: “I’ll get you something pretty.” You give his lips a firm kiss, not minding the taste of yourself on him. “Now, get the fuck out of my office.”

“Y-Yes, Mistress,” he stutters, his brain still reeling from the whiplash you cause him. He stands up and quickly exits your office, not even bothering to adjust the bulge in his pants on the way out. Bobby knew the time apart was going to be torture. Even if you were states away, the fear that you were waiting for him to slip up never left, and he didn’t think it ever would. He hated how his cock ached with need, but not as much as he hated how his heart ached with the need to follow you. It was confusing. You fucked with his head and his body, and he can’t make out what’s up and what’s down anymore. 

Bobby fucking hated you. He also fucking loved you. 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!💖

I no longer have a taglist, so if you wish to stay up-to-date on when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library​💖

[stuckysdumbbitch]

the painful praise

summary: Daddy left you alone with the mean old men, their slippery hands have you falling over and over.

pairings: a shit load of Sebastian Stan characters and Chris Evans characters x little!reader

warnings:18+ content, smut(dubcon), forced drinking, oral (f receiving), handcuffs, misogynistic comments, little!reader, lewd comments, sexualization, prostitution, praise, degradation.

part two of love and lost

You weren’t there for them; they chatted enthusiastically until they gave you a mere peek to grab a beer out of your tray. The only gaze you could feel was Robert’s, staring at you over his bottle as you tried not to quiver.

Standing still with the cat tail butt plug nestled between your virgin ass was quite uncomfortable, but you preferred that instead of being taken into a hallway by a big ruddy man, like it happened to Justin. You didn’t recognize anyone, even though they dressed as smartly as Ransom did. That brought you back into realization, how much you missed Ransom.

“Does the kitty drink?” A drunkenly holler pop you out of your train of thought. You frowned at the long haired man, his stare intrigued upon you. “No.” You timidly mumbled, but the group of men didn’t like your response.

A strong hand encircled your wrist, pulling you over his lap. The bottles would have fallen to the floor if it wasn’t that he plucked the tray out of your hands and set it on the floor. You whimpered at how the plug shifted inside you now that you sat on his lap. At closer look, you could figure out his hair was chestnut brown and his eyes were sky blue. But not the blue of Ransom’s almost turquoise, a blue that resembled the sea at a particularly stormy day.

“You sure you don’t?” He questioned even further, and you tried to looks for Mr Freezy. As soon as you tried to turn your head, the man had plunged the whiskey bottle from the table into your lips. You tried to wiggle away as his arms held into your hip, playing with your thong. At the panic, you didn’t realized how a hand had plucked your nose close, cutting of your air supply. You tried to breath from your mouth, which only introduced more bitter liquid into your mouth. It burned your throat, warming up your stomach as your face became very hot. Your scared eyes looked at the man, who laughed at your attempts.

Someone barked, probably Robert, and the hand and the bottle disappeared. You jerked forward, coughing madly to regain air, even so your heart hurt. You felt tears fall down your arms as you faced the man that had closed your airways. He placed one hand on his chubby belly as he laughed almost demonically.

“C’mon Pronge! we were just having some fun; you let me do worse things with your whores.” He cheered, and his flapping hands scared you. Pronge chuckled, although it sounded fake.

“If you buy her for a night do whatever ya please, but don’t choke her on booze when she has a busy night Bodecker.” He explained, then turned around on his chair as if his sixth sense had alerted him. “Talking ‘bout payment.”

Two tall men approached, while a blonde one was counting money, the brunet was gawking at you and your skimpy looking outfit. Behind their broad forms, you saw little Justin crookedly trying to walk behind them.

He fell to his knees when he got near enough, falling in the middle of Robert’s splayed thighs and resting his head on one of them.

“How was the service, fellas?” Robert asked, before giving a toothy grin.

“Oh, amazing.” The brunet complimented, and you freezed. The accent, the voice that had engraved itself in your mind in your unconsciousness. His eyes didn’t left you.

“Your boy is so pretty when he cries, next time forgo the butt plug.” The blonde commented, handing three big bills to Mr Freezy. His voice just clarified it was that pair of men.

Robert brushed Justin’s hair loosely, the dog ears slightly disheveled. His back was marked with new angry red slashes.

“Who’s that little thing you have on your lap, Levinson?”

Your eyes widened at the brunet’s question, mostly because he was sitting down with the group. The man who held you, who you could asume was Levinson, pulled your body closer grabbing handfuls of your ass.

“The little ex-virgin that came yesterday, man she might even still be tight.” Levinson informed, and every time his hands moved you wanted to cry even more at how lewdly they were talking about you. “Her ass is still virgin tho; Bucky, wanna share her?”

The brunet grinned before staring into you and then into Levinson’s eyes.

“I had the pleasure of deflowering her.”

The table erupted into sloppy cheers and giggles. Some of the other workers turned and looked at them, but the men couldn’t care less.

The man let you fall to the ground as he laughed, and you began crawling towards Robert. Bucky was receiving various back pats and words of admiration, and even he didn’t noticed when a delicious meal passed crawling right before his eyes.

You appeared next to Justin and imitated him, laying your head on his other thigh seeking for a tiny bit of comfort. When the laughing died down, the men noticed you had moved.

“They would make a pretty cute couple, right?” A third man that hadn’t spoke, only watched, till now said. “Imagine getting these two for a night?”

“God the things I would do to them.” The chubby man growled, and you flinched.

Robert smirked at this, stroking your tear stained cheek.

“Puppy,” he called out Justin with faux gentleness and a creepy smile. “Do a trick.”

The table fell silent as everyone stared at him, his cheeks turnt beet red yet he still nodded. His placed his hands on your waist as he guided his body behind yours. You stared up at Robert, confused doe eyes trying to figure out why was Justin pulling down your underwear. He suddenly spun you around, and you were facing the men. His hand shoved your face against the cold hardwood floor, your pretty ass up and your back twisted into an uncomfortable position. His lithe fingers delved into your crevice, sneaking around to latch into your nub giving short circles.

You gasped when he thrusted his cock through your puffy lips; he was shorter than the other men, but your sore body still hated the entrance.

“Look at that, the little fag can fuck a girl.” A man sneered, but through your lidded eyes you couldn’t tell who was who. Justin begun humping you, thrusting his cock into you as the plug shifted uncomfortably on your bum. Little moans escaped your lips, Justin feeling heavenly inside your body. Two arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to spill his hot load inside of you. You whined, you hadn’t come. Even though the sensation was new, you were already yearning it; Robert smirked at this.

“That’s it,” the third man grinned, taking his wallet from his expensive suit. “I want her,”.

The men around groaned, mostly because they weren’t fast enough to bid for you.

“Thank you Barber, now allow Justin to get her clean and will get her to room 35.” Pronge chided, patting the boy’s back on signal to get him hurried. “Barber” laughed.

“I come to a whorehouse and you think I’m scared of some jizz?”He chuckled, handing the bill to the man and grabbing your collar, as if you were some dog. “Thank you Robert, I’ll tell you more when the deed is done.”

Pronge raised his hands in defeat and allowed the man to pull you into a dimly lit hallway. Now you actually were being taken by a big ruddy man, but it was just the beginning.

Pretty hands tied to headboard, Andy’s beard scratching against the skin he was kissing. He had presented himself and told you what he expected of you; to act as his loving wife trying out kinky sex. It was hard, because in little space you couldn’t really act like a grown women.

Andy kissed your bare core, now stripped from every piece of clothing and the plug. “Look at me, honey.” He called softly, and you shyly obeyed. “you are divine.”

Before you could even heat up at his comment, he licked over your slit lewdly. Your mouth parted as he latched onto your nub, sucking greedily. Your mewls coated the air as you widened your legs for him. He ate you out slowly, savoring your pink skin and Justin’s cum. He wiped you clean of any trace, as if he was permanently cleaning your sins, or most likely the ones that were imposed on your pretty body. You felt the begging him of such delightful knot forming on you belly, and he had also realized, because he speeded up his ministrations. You grinded against his flat tongue, legs shutting against his fluffy bearded face.

“Sir,” you called out with a quivering little voice, wrecked as the feeling grew. “I think I’m going to pee.”

You felt him grin against your cunt, his grip on your thighs tightening as he tongued your nub. You rose from the bed almost god-like, a mixture of a gasp and a scream erupting from your throat as you felt the coil snap, falling back into the bed as a dumb little rag doll. Andy poked his head from between you clenched thighs, your organs coating his beard.

“You are so perfect, little girl.”

[babyjakes]

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fics.

devils roll the dice | n, s, mf | kinkmas 2023 | hitman!robert pronge x innocent!reader | prompts: sex tape + medfet

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[deceitfuldevout]

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.

[hansensgirl]

summary. | After being diagnosed with an unknown sickness, your husband makes sure you’re following the doctor’s orders.

prompts. | Robert Pronge/Mr. Freezy + Amnesia + “Don’t you love it when I touch you like this?” + Stockholm Syndrome, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!Robert Pronge/Mr. Freezy x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, captivity, mentions of spanking, mean!robert, mild smut (fingering, f receiving), amnesia, memory loss, referenced/implied injury or drugging (up to you), housewife kink, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

You flatten the dough with your hands as best as you can. You’re not allowed a rolling pin or most standard kitchen tools—Robbie told you it’s what the doctor said. Something about accidents or self-inflicted injuries.

Your husband hums to a tune on the radio and stands behind you, holding your waist. 

You’re not really sure what’s wrong with you, but you know that doctors are trying to figure it all out. You can’t remember much; there are simply little blurs of what seem to be memories, but they’re too crazy to be true. You just chalk them up to being dreams.

Robert slowly lifts up your frilly dress, caressing your thighs as he finds your panties. He presses his hard cock against your ass, grinding just a bit. He does this often, claiming he just can’t help it because you’re too sexy. But Robert also says that your doctor recommends his touch daily. 

“Fuck, sugar. You’re perfect,” Robert growls in your ear, the ridge of his cock between your ass cheeks. You gasp at his touch, from both the pleasure and roughness. It’s not his fault—he’s just naturally strong, and you’re too weak.

“R– Robbie…” you whimper, trying to focus on making the pie. This always happens. Robert just loves it when you’re in your element—being the dutiful, obedient housewife that you are. “Shhh, let your husband touch you, sweetcakes,” he grunts.

You nod your head at the hardness of his voice. He gets upset quickly, but you know it’s because of his job and the added stress of your sickness. Kids aren’t easy to deal with, but he promises yours will be well-behaved and the utmost ideal bunch. 

Robert slides one of his rough hands into your sheer panties, and he quickly finds your clit. He lowers his digits a little more and dips his fingertips into the wetness seeping out of you. He groans, bringing his digits back to your nub and rubbing the bundle of nerves.

You gasp from the pleasure, knees buckling as you fall back just a bit. Your dough is thoroughly ruined—just like you. You’re supposed to have it done by dinner time, yet you’re not even halfway complete. Your guest—one of Robbie’s friends—will surely be disappointed.

“H– Honey, please, I need to–” you start, and your husband groans. “What?” Robert snaps, and you flinch despite being in his hold. “Don’t you love it when I touch you like this?” he questions harshly, the other fist slamming down on the countertop before you. 

A part of you wants to say no, but you question it. Isn’t Robert your devoted husband? 

He’s never hurt you.

The leather belt cracks, and there’s a sharp pain stinging your ass.

He’s never been mean to you.

“Argh, don’t be a bitch. You’re already a pain to deal with.”

And he always makes you happy.

Tears flow down your face as the metal door shuts behind him, leaving you in the dark basement.

Yes, he is. And you love everything he does—because he loves you. 

“I– I do. I’m sorry,” you whimper, turning your head as best as possible to look at Robert. His blue eyes are dark with lust and anger, and his jaw is clenched. His hair is growing out again, and his glasses are a bit dirty—you’ll have to clean them afterwards. If you remember.

“Then shut up and let me take what’s mine,” Robert grumbles, and you do exactly as he says, nearly falling limp in his arms as he uses and abuses you. 

Your husband once told you that the doctor said you should always listen to him, but honestly, you’ve never met this doctor. And if you think hard enough, you’ll realize you don’t know your husband. 

[nifolution]

Good Girl 1

Pairing: Robert Pronge / Reader

Summary: Mr. Freezy’s new client has an interesting request.

Warnings: Dark fic, Violence, smut, noncon/dubcon, angst, humiliation, death, manipulation, gaslighting, kidnapping, betrayal, mentions of torture, vengeance

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 3rd person. 18+ only due to smut and noncon/dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

A skittish man approaches the Mr. Freezy ice cream truck. Pronge kept his eyes on him as he neared the window, “What can I get ya?”

The man’s eyes darted around before answering. "Ah, yes, my... my friend said you can help me with a special job," he winked.

Pronge rubbed his nose under his glasses. Another one of these chumps. "Who do you need bumped off?"

"No, no, I don't want anyone killed, just scared, roughed up a bit. No lasting damage though, no scars".

The man hands over a picture. Pronge grabs it without bothering to look at it. "Her name’s Y/N Y/L/N. The job pays $10,000. A grand now, the rest when you complete the job."

"All that to ruffle some skirt, why?"

The man looked at his feet before answering. "Well I'm a concerned family friend. And it breaks my heart to see dear Y/N running in the wrong circles lately. Drinking, smoking pot... It's that good for nothing, boyfriend of hers fault. She's a good girl but she's going down the wrong path, needs to be scared straight."

"Uh huh," Pronge responded, disinterested.

"You can grab her this Saturday. She leaves her boyfriend's house around 10pm. The address is on the back of the photo. As well as where you can drop her off. I'm going to need some pictures as proof. You got a camera don't you?"

"Got a 35mm and I develop them personally." Pronge pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and removed one.

"Good! That's very good. Because I'm gonna need them to be very specific pictures."

Pronge leaned further out the window, "Lay it on me."

The man looked over his shoulders and lowered his voice, "Well I need photos of the kidnapping, and of… of the lesson. You see I’m asking for you to rough her up and, uh… strip her down... touch her, humiliate her. Photograph ALL the details. Then you can have some fun yourself, you know." He winks again.

"Quit fucking winking at me, ya creep.” Pronge lit the cigarette and mulled over the offer. “So you want me to fuck this chick?"

"Yes. I really need her to be taught a lesson she won't forget. The pictures will prove I got my money's worth and can serve as a reminder to her if she acts up again. I can anonymously send them one by one as a threat to keep her in line... Take pictures while you're banging her too. Get as little of yourself in them as possible, nothing identifiable. For both our protections, you understand."

“Of course,” Pronge took a long drag. “You got yourself a deal.”

---------------

There she is, right on time. Pronge had parked his truck across the street, two houses down, from the given address. He sat in the driver’s seat, impatiently watching her kiss her boyfriend goodnight before heading to her car. She wore a bright green blouse and mini skirt. Great legs, perky tits, she’s a sweet thing isn't she? And her asshole boyfriend couldn’t even walk her to her car. Shame.

Pronge approached her as she unlocked her vehicle. He threw a bag over her head and wrestled her screaming form to the back of his truck. He bound her hands behind her back, opened the door and tossed her inside. He climbed in and slammed the door closed. Walking past her flailing body, he shut the metal partition and hopped into the driver seat.

He glanced back before peeling away from the curb, "Hold on sweets, it's gonna be a long night."

Pronge chain smoked while driving his ice cream truck the 30 minutes to his destination. The woman in back sobbing the entire time. He parked at an industrial plant by Newark Bay. The place was pretty desolate. The building itself, unfinished.

He turned around in his seat and watched his captive. She managed to sit up at some point, her legs bent to the side. Her skirt riding up far enough it exposed her pretty white panties. She was shaking, scared. Pronge smiled. Oh, she had no idea how rough the night would get for her.

Throwing his last smoke out the window, Pronge walked in the back. He crouched down in front of her, shoving a gun into her belly. She whimpered.

"Pl… please don't hurt me," she begged. "I can get you money. If you let me go, my dad will pay, I promise. Just please don't hurt me."

Pronge caressed the hood where her hair would be. "What’s your name, sweetness?"

Met with silence, he slaps her.

"Y-Y/N," she choked out between tears.

He smiled, pushing the pistol harder against her. His free hand rubbed her shoulder and stroked across her clavicle. "You got a boyfriend?"

"No sir. Please, I want to go home."

"Sir? I like that. However," he set the gun on the floor, grabbing the back of her head, "I don't like liars." He put his other hand over her nose and mouth, blocking her breathing.

After a few seconds of listening to her panicked, muffled shrieks, he releases her. "Lets try that again... Do you have a fucking boyfriend?" He picked up the gun, running it up and down her bare thigh.

"Yes."

"That's better." Pronge pressed the gun against her crotch. "Are you a virgin?"

"No," she quietly admits.

He chuckled, this was going to be too easy. Wonder if she's always this submissive? He harshly grabbed her arm, forcing her to her feet. "See, the truth isn't so hard is it?"

Without warning, he slammed her head into the metal drawers. She screamed, twisted and tried to run.

Pronge shoved her into the counter, facing him. Then continued pushing hard enough to leave bruises. When she whined, he pushed his leg between hers, reminding her to be still.

He moved the gun to her neck, taking a whiff, "You smell nice." He squeezed her breast, pleased to find she forgoed a bra tonight. "Feel nice too."

She stood frozen as he ran his large hands over her. Kneading her breasts, pinching and teasing his way down her body. She cried out as he slid under her skirt, rubbing her through her panties. She wriggled, trying to move away. “Please stop. Let me go, please.”

Pronge roughly dragged the pistol down her body, before jabbing it into her abdomen. "Don't be shy, sweets. We're getting to know each other so well." He continued his ministrations, pleased to feel her panties start to dampen. He stopped, enjoying the interesting noise that came out of her when he did.

Moving to the side, he grabbed her neck and jerked her forward. Effectively tripping her and causing her knees to slam into the freezer. He moved behind her, trapping her against the appliance. He ran the gun down her spine, licking her neck. Pressing himself into her ass, he reached around to rub her breasts. "You let him fuck you tonight?" he whispers.

His breath was hot on her ear, the smell of cigarettes overpowering. "N..no. we just cuddled... Please don't do this. Don’t hurt me. Please."

Pronge laughed, "Cuddled." Then he bent her over the freezer and hiked up her skirt. Softly caressing her rear, "Ever take it up the ass?"

When Y/N doesn't answer, Pronge spanks her hard enough to leave a mark.

"Oww. Once, okay, just once. Please." She was fully crying again.

"What a naughty girl my sweets is." Pronge moved away again. Setting down his gun, he opened a drawer and took out his camera. This would be a perfect first shot. She remained draped over the freezer, skirt raised and his red handprint peeking out from under her panties. Snap. Oh, he was really going to enjoy this.

Pronge rights her before shoving her to the floor. She screamed as she landed on her side, but just laid there. She was learning. Snap. Using his foot, he rolled her onto her back and spread her legs. Bending over he smoothed and molded her underwear to her. Making sure he could see a perfect outline of her cunt and the wet spot he created earlier. Snap.

He hauls her off the dirty floor and slams her so she is sitting on the edge of the freezer. Her ass started to sink down onto the cold sliding door. Unsure what was happening, she teetered on the rim, afraid of falling. Pronge laughed and snapped another photo before forcing her to be fully seated on the doors. Her knees were now slightly raised, legs dangling over the edge.

Her breath hitched as he started feeling her breasts over her top. He squeezed both hard. Snap. Pronge slowly unbuttoned her blouse, untucked it from her skirt and opened it so her naked chest was on display. Snap. He took his time fondling each breast. Rolling and pinching her nipples, loving the squeaks coming from under the hood. The camera flashing as he licked and sucked each erect nipple into his mouth.

Time for the blouse to go. He pulled it from her body, ripping the arms to get it off. He encouraged her to arch her back, she complied. Snap. He couldn't resist leaving a few more love bites on those soft globes.

She held her breath as her skirt was removed. Pronge cocked his head, observing her. She looked so innocent sitting there in just her panties, knee highs and platforms. Snap. "You could make a grown man blush, sweets." Snap. He delighted in every mark he left on her body.

Pronge pulled off her shoes and socks, then slowly slid her underwear down her legs. He smiled while taking several photos of her nakedness. She was shivering, out of fear or cold, he wasn't certain. He didn’t care. Hunger burned in his gut, his pants becoming uncomfortably tight.

He began posing her, taking increasingly explicit photos. It started with spreading her legs wide as she sat. Snap. Then he leaned her back onto her elbows, bending her legs so her feet were planted on the edge of the freezer. Snap. He opened her legs wider and ran his fingers through her folds, rolling her clit with his thumb. She squirmed a bit but remained where she was, fighting back shameful moans. Snap. "That's it, sweets, don't hold back." She yelped as he inserted a finger in her soaked channel. He swirled the digit around before adding another. Snap. Pumping his fingers as her breath quickened.

He removed his fingers and turned her around onto her knees. Her covered head pressed into the cold doors, ass high in the air. Snap. He returned his fingers into her pussy, smirking as she clamped down hard. Snap. Pronge worked his fingers in and out of her before scooping up some slick and pulling her cheeks apart. Snap. He worked one finger into her other hole, ignoring her pleads. Snap. "What a nice model you're being for me, sweets. Think you should make it a career."

He pushed her onto her side facing him. Pulling her top leg to bend over the other. He stood by her feet, making sure he could see her swollen pussy peeking at him and her hickey covered tits. Snap. Pronge then grabbed both legs and pulled her so her ass was once again balancing on the edge of the freezer. Her arms trapped under her. He’s sure it hurt, but she smartly remained quiet.

Pronge got to his knees and began playing with her again. Stroking her and fucking her with his fingers. Pinching her clit so she’d buck her hips. "You look good enough to eat, sweets. Let's have a taste.” He dove in, eating her like a man starved. Snap. He stuck his tongue all the way out, licking a long slow strip up to her clit. Snap. “Mmm what a tasty treat you are."

Y/N wiggled and twitched as he touched her. She couldn’t stop the noises coming out of her from the unwilling pleasure. Pronge continued to lick and suck at her most sensitive parts. He fucked her with his tongue, making her eyes roll back. Snap. He sucked hard on her clit, causing her legs to involuntarily squeeze his head. "Aww sweets, your boyfriend hasn't been taking very good care of you, has he? No worries, I'll make you feel real fucking good." Pronge kept sucking her bud gently, fingering her until her legs began to shake. He curled his fingers, rubbing until she came, screaming.

Pronge’s erection strained against his pants. It was his turn. He pulled Y/N off the freezer and pushed her to her knees. Snap. Looks like it's time to change the camera roll. Pronge replaced the film, picked up his pistol and pressed it to her head. “You keep your fucking eyes closed, ya hear me. I won’t hesitate to blow your fucking head off.” She nodded.

He pulled the bag off her head. Satisfied to see her eyes pinched shut, he set the gun on the freezer. Pronge pulled his pants down, allowing his cock to spring free. He licked his lips before grabbing her hair. "I know you’ve done this before, sweets. Make it good." She obediently opened her mouth. He picked up the camera and took a picture. So easy, so accommodating.

Pronge hissed as he slid past her lips. Pushing until she gagged, pulling out and shoving himself back in. Snap. She hollowed her cheeks as she took him in, moving her tongue along the pulsing vein. Snap. "Mmm, fuck that's it, sweets." He put the camera down and moved both hands to her hair, thrusting against her face, guiding her as she sucked him. He felt himself getting close and pulled her off.

He made her lay down on the filthy floor. Posing her and taking more shots of her completely bare body. He straddled her face, allowing his dick to press on her cheek. Snap. He fanned out her hair and focused on her tears. Snap. Surprised by a strange urge to kiss her, he growled and placed the bag back on her head.

He roughly threw her back onto the freezer. “Playtime's over, sweets.” He pried her legs apart and pulled her closer. He lined himself with her entrance and pushed forward, sheathing himself completely. She yelled and tried to move away from him, but he kept a firm grip on her hip. She tried again and he pinched her. After she stilled, he took the next picture. Pulling almost all the way out, he took another. Then he shoved himself back in. Snap. "Shit you're fucking tight, sweets. I don't think I can last." He pulled out half way, angling the camera straight down where they were connected. Snap. He then began fucking her in earnest.

Y/N couldn't understand how she was feeling. He was much bigger than she was used to, the stretch burned but somehow felt... good. The feel of his rock hard length dragging across her fluttering walls making her light headed. It felt incredible. Her whole body felt on fire, begging for more. It shouldn’t be like this, she should be repulsed. But as he swore and groaned and growled while rutting into her, she moaned and lost herself in the sensations.

Pronge could tell she was struggling to hold herself up. Difficult with her hands tied behind her back. He pushed her to lay down. Snap. He reached forward and squeezed her neck and continued to fuck her. Snap. "You feel so fucking good." He took a few close ups of her pussy. Angling the camera up, he watched her tits bounce with every thrust. Snap. He grabbed a breast, pinching her nipple hard. Snap.

He ran his hand down her body, gripping her waist, he fucked her harder. Snap. Pronge put down the camera. He needed to get one more out of her. He began angling his thrusts and rubbing circles on her swollen clit. "You can fucking do it, sweets. Let go." She screamed as her second orgasm overwhelmed her. Pronge pushed a few more times before pulling out and coming on her stomach. With heaving breaths, he picked up the camera and took the final picture.

Pronge wiped the sweat from his forehead and pulled his pants back on. He watched her lying there, silent, wondering if she was asleep. He started cleaning her up, removing any traces of himself beyond the bruising. He redressed her the best he could. Wrapping her torn blouse around her chest. She didn’t fight him. He gently lowered her to the floor. He walked to the front, lit a cigarette and drove to the drop off.

He pulled up to a large, nice looking two-story ranch. Perfectly manicured lawn, attached garage, a Cadillac parked in the driveway, rich assholes. He got out and walked around to the back of his truck. Opening the doors, he reached in to grab her. She was leaning against the freezer, softly snoring. Maybe he should keep her? Needed the rest of his fee though.

He climbed in and picked her up. "Thanks for the good time, sweetness. But this is your stop, I’m afraid." She didn’t stir as he walked to her front door. He set her down, leaving her hands still bound and the bag on her head. Sore and bruised but no worse for wear. "Be good, or you'll be seeing me again." He kissed her head through the hood. After knocking on the door, he ran back to his truck.

He waited until the house lights turned on before he drove away. Taking a deep breath, he took out another cigarette. His nostrils filled with the smell of sex and flowery perfume. Pronge smiled, returning the smoke to the pack.

Chapter 2

[georgiapeach30513]

Mr. Freezy Pops, Part 4

Summary:  Robert tells you his rules

Pairings: Robert “Mr. Freezy” Pronge X Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, Soft!Dark!, Dark!, sexual rules, implied branding, divorce, threats, humiliation, possessiveness, punishment, oral sex, dry humping, swallowing, scratching, licking, squirting, degradation, choking, sex with an audience, pet names (Pretty Girl, Sir) 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.3k

Previous

Series Masterlist

You lift your body off of him.  The softness in his eyes is no longer there.  They’re not completely darkened like when he speaks to Paul, but there’s no denying the intensity of his gaze.  “Maybe we should get up.  Let you think.” “No.  I don’t wanna be married to him.” “Still, I gotta get something for ya,” pulling the two of you up, he wraps his shirt back around you.  Taking care to button the shirt back up, and then rolls up the sleeves.  “Go sit down.  I’ll be right back.” Quickly he leaves the room.  You look around the room.  Should you continue these rules, you’re his.  The house upstairs is a stark contrast to the dank basement.  It’s clean.  Orderly.  Judging by the basement you would have assumed there would be stains and mold throughout the house, but no.  It’s pristine.  A look out the window, and even the lawn is carefully manicured.  There doesn’t seem to be any neighbors close by, must be why no one heard you scream.  

The furniture is stylish and modern.  “This could all be yours.”  The softness returns to his voice.  

In his hand is a long rectangular box.  “What’s that?” “It’s yours.  If you’re mine.”  Just to reiterate how much he adores you, his hands ghosts across your cheek.  His fingers wrap around your neck, pulling you close to kiss your forehead, on your nose, your chin, and then back up to your lips.

“Would I be able to tweak these rules a bit?” He ponders your question.  “Some…maybe.  Here’s what you need to understand, I’m the one in control.  I own you.  And with that I will give you whatever it is you desire.  If you follow my rules.  I ask for so little.  Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.”  You’re not an idiot.  You know that it doesn’t make sense, and yet when you gave into him, you saw how he had taken such gentle care of you.  Was willing to beat your piece of shit husband to death, and stopped immediately when you asked him. “Okay.” Robert’s face scrunches up, “I’d like something better than that.  Here, sit.”  Leading you to the couch he walks over to the desk, grabbing up a piece of paper.  “It’s not a lot.  The rules are simple.  Shall I go on?”  you gaze up at him.  Mind racing on what to do.  If you choose not to stay, where would you go?  Paul would find you, and that scares you more.  Here you’re being offered safety.  A sanctuary.

“Yes.  Go on.  I’m ready…wait.  What do I get in return?” “Am I not enough?” his voice is lighthearted, and you can’t help but smile at him.  “Just kiddin’.  I’m offering you this house; you can change whatever it is that you want.  It’s yours, well ours.  I’m offering you safety.  And me.  I will consider your changes or add ons to the rules.  Does that sound fair?” “Yes.” “You’re ready to be mine?  If so, the divorce process starts tomorrow, and if you try to stretch the process out, or you don’t follow through, I will have him killed.  There will be no contact with him, unless I’m present.  I’d prefer to have anything you two say between the other through me.  I know people, and this divorce will happen quickly.  Once it’s finalized you have no reason to speak.  You have no kids.  He can fucking keep everything.”  He sits down on the couch beside you, placing his thick hand to rest on your thigh.

“I’m ready.  Go on.” Without a word he hands you the box.  Upon opening it you see a black velvet choker with the daintiest silver ice cream cone pendent on it.  “I wasn’t kidding about the collar.  However, this should be more appealing.”  He pulls it out of the box and places it around your neck.  Making sure it is tight against your neck.

“Why are you called Mr. Freezy?” “I’ve got me an ice cream truck.  I sell cones and pops to the local kids.”  You know that he’s not doing this for his job, or even out of the kindness of his heart.  He’s also not offering up more information.  “Here’s the deal with your collar, it stays on your neck.  If I catch it off of you, I’ll fucking burn the ice cream on your skin.”  You gulp, knowing that he means it.  “It’s the outward reflection of who owns you.”

You nod your head, wanting him to continue.  “You will not be out in public for any reason, unless I’m with you.  I don’t trust that fucking cuck.  Or anyone else for that matter.  I will be with you at all times in public.  When I’m not here there will be someone outside of the house to protect you.  He’s not allowed to talk to you and you don’t talk to him.  Understand?” “I understand.”  So far, none of the rules are unreasonable.

“After this rule, the rest are more personable.  I will not fucking tolerate you being a brat.  You talk back to me, or you push me, I will fucking punish you.” “What’s the punishment.” “Depends on what you do.  You’ll fucking take it too.  I suggest that you’re pliable.  I would never do anything to hurt you.  That’s why I won’t condone your mouth.  I’ll give you one get out jail free card…only one.”  You nod your head.  Normally you’re not a mouthy person.  Remembering how he was when you were tied up, you know he doesn’t like being denied or being ignored.  You should have figured this rule.

“Now, onto our sex rules.  I will not be denied sex.  I don’t care where the fuck we are or who the fuck is around?  When I want your tight pussy, I get it.  I won’t do anything to get us arrested, when I say I own you, I own her.  She’s mine just as much as you are.  You already fucking screamed out that I owned your pussy.  So do not deny me.  Because I will take what I want, and I won’t stop.” “Okay.  I think that’s fair.  Nothing that will get us arrested though.” “Never.  And I don’t do the be quiet bull shit.  I want to hear how good I make you feel.”  Both of you laugh.  “So, we’re clear, none of my cum is wasted.  It will either be in that cunt of yours, swallowing down your throat, and if it’s not, either you’re licking it up, or you’re eating it up with a spoon.” “I can do that.” “I know you can.  You’re my fucking whore.  You’re also a good girl.  Good girls get treated.  I won’t let anyone disrespect you.  You’re not a whore, you’re my whore.”

The way he speaks to you, how aggressive he is makes you heat up again.  Watching you squeeze your thighs together his hand roams further up your leg, sliding down until it meets your mound.  Your body reacting, your legs spread apart.  “Good girl.  Already so fucking wet just by me talking about how I own this pussy.  She’s mine, isn’t she?” “Yes.  She’s all yours.”

“My good little whore.  However,…” he pulls his hand away and you actually pout, “Don’t give me that look.  That’s borderline being a brat.  Don’t tell me you already broke a rule.”  Sitting up, and crossing your legs you pay attention.  “Don’t worry.  I will treat you like the fucking slut you are later.  While we’re on this topic, you don’t touch yourself.  Not unless I’m present and you ask for permission to touch yourself.  If you choose to break this rule, I’ll break you with orgasm after orgasm.”

Every part of you wants to cross your arms, but you don’t want to be a brat.  You want to be a good girl.  “That doesn’t sound so bad.” “How does thirty fucking orgasms in a row sound?  You think that pretty cunt could handle that?  Think that clit won’t be fucking swollen and sore?  I’ll fuck into you with a toy so hard you’ll go dumb.  Then after I make you cum with toys and my fingers, I’ll fuck into you so hard I split you in half.  Go ahead fucking test me and we’ll see how many times you cum before you’re begging for my cock.  How many times will you cum before that pretty mouth begs me to stop.” “Thirty?”  Now you’re worried.

“That was a random number.  It could be more.  These rules are easy enough.  You can handle it.  You might be my whore but you’re not stupid.  And so, for, the last one.  I can mark you however I want.  If I want to paint you with my cum and we go grocery shopping, you’ll wear it with pride.  If I want to bruise you up because I grip you too hard, you’ll love it.  And if I want to leave hickies on your neck, well pretty girl, you’ll love every second of it.  But under no circumstance will I have marks.  I own you.  You do not own me.  But you follow these rules, and you can have whatever you want.”

He hands you the piece of paper, grabbing a pen from the coffee table.  “If you agree to all this, sign.  Make it official.”  Quickly you sign your name.  Pride beaming on his face at your lack of hesitation.   Bringing yourself closer to him, you crawl onto his lap, straddling him as his hands grip tightly on your hips.  “Those are fair.  You going to go ahead and bruise me up, Sir?”

“Fuck…new rule.  You will continue to call me Sir.” “As long as you continue to call me Pretty Girl.”  Rolling your hips, you hum at the swelling in his pants.  Feeling his cock literally hardened under your naked pussy.

“I can do that.  You think you can handle those rules?” “I may need you to help guide me.  I’ll be your good girl.  Your good little slut.”  Sliding your fingers up his arms, up over his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck.  

His hands guide your hips to continue your grinding over him.  “Now, tell me, pretty girl, is there something you would like to add.  I will not be punished.” “Don’t wanna punish you.  You’ve taken such good care of me, Sir.” “There must be something you want.”  You smirk, but don’t say anything, just continue rolling your hips on him.  “You keep doing that you’re going to be licking up my cum.”

You still don’t stop.  “I want you to bathe with me.  Wanna take care of you the way you take care of me.” Robert inhales sharply.  “Okay.  You cutting it close, Pretty Girl.  Feel me twitching?” “I also want to cut your hair.  While I fuck you.”  Robert’s head twists taking in that request.  “Please, Sir?  It’s the least you can do.  I’m offering my body to do what you please with it.” “Y/N…” with a quick narrow of your eyes at him, he can see you don’t like him calling you that.  “Pretty Girl…I’m…”

“Tell me, you’ll let me cut your hair while I fuck you.” “O-okay.”  You have him right where you want him.  Quickly you kneel on the floor, pull his throbbing cock out of his pants, licking a stripe up the underside before placing his cock in your mouth at the perfect time.  His load shoots in the back of your throat, the salty musk of Mr. Freezy.  “Thatta girl.  Perfect little slut.  I’m sending someone to get you some clothes.  Then one day I’ll let you can ride me while you shave my head.”

And did Robert deliver with the clothes.  Most of it was very average suburban housewife clothes.  Comfortable, but fitted to show off your body.  What wasn’t typical clothes to put up the front of a happy couple, well, they were outfits only for him.  Lingerie, a latex bodycon dress, and ample amounts of babydoll sleepers.  Telling you he wanted to keep his Pretty Girl nice and slutty.

Day’s pass and the thought of shaving Robert’s hair is never brought up.  The brand-new clippers still in the box on the kitchen counter.  Teasing you, but you don’t dare bring it up.  His fingers will randomly tap along the box while he smiles at you.  Like he promised he’ll leave you at the house, someone outside the door, and neither of you dare to speak.  He gifted you with plenty of books to pass your time.  All the streaming services you could want.  No social media, not that he doesn’t trust you.  He doesn’t trust Paul to try and weasel his way back in.  

The divorce is well on its way.  Like he promised there was no arguing over who would get what.  You just wanted your last name to not be Diskant, but not as much as Robert did.  He loved that you made a menu, along with a grocery list.  Making you two almost feel like a normal couple when you load up in his car to go grocery shopping.

And then the day finally comes.  “Alright Pretty Girl.  I made you a promise.  And it’s time that I allowed you to fulfill that promise.” “Does that mean?” you excitedly being to answer.

“Uh huh.  Got the outfit I want you to wear over the bed.  Don’t worry about wearing fucking thongs.”   Walking into the bedroom you find a new soft pink babydoll.  Sheer chiffon that cascades down, and you know what his favorite part will be, it unclasps in the front.  Easy access for him to play with something he loves almost as much as your pussy, your perky tits.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”  His body sitting on one of the dining chairs, thighs spread and ready for you to sit on him, while one hand holds the clippers, the other fists his cock.  “Come on, Pretty Girl, you wanted this.” Walking closer, you start to undo your top, but he tsks at you.  “Uh huh.  Don’t take that pleasure away from me.”  You spread your own legs, lining yourself up with him, until you sink your body on him.  His hands cup your cheek, kissing you so softly.  His other unlatches the front of your dress before taking his time to suck on both breasts until your nipples are hard and peppered.  “Okay, you can go ahead and begin.”   The sound of the clippers makes you keen, “Gonna have to get you a remote vibrator that I get to control.  I see you fucking trembling at that sound.”  Rolling your hips, you ease the clippers through his hair.  Watching as curtains of his wavy brunette hair falls to the floor.  With every bit of his face, you uncover you realize just how handsome he is.  His skin already clearing up with how much you’ve been taking care of him.  “Fucking me so good, Pretty Girl.  This turns you on so much.”  And it does.  So much so that you already feel your tummy heating up.  Stopping your movements on his head you watch him.  “Cum on my cock.”

The sound of his baritone voice whispering on your neck makes you completely come undone.  “Such a good slut for me.”  You continue your motions of removing his hair.  Lost in your own world.  Rolling your hips on him, while running the clippers around his head, softly sweeping off hair that lands on him.  Your so lost in him you don’t hear the door knock.  You only hear Robert’s booming voice.  “It’s open.”  And your movements pause.  “I don’t think so.  You keep fucking me or you pay the price.”  His teeth nip around your choker.

“What the fuck?” The man calls.

“Y/N, my pet this is…” “No names.  Do you not know who she’s married to?” “She’s getting a divorce.  It’ll be a speedy process.”  Just to show his dominance over you, his hands push off your sleeper, coaxing your arms to let it fall.  You start to protest, “I don’t think so Pretty Girl.  I told you I didn’t fucking care where we were or who was around.  You keep doing what you’re doing, I’m going to conduct some business.” “Yes, Sir.”

“Gotter trained good.”  The man you haven’t even seen says.

“She’s my perfect little slut, aren’t you?”  Nodding your head, you dare to look behind you.  A familiar looking man with a goatee and scruff, and a tight fade haircut.  “Eyes here,” Robert commands.  Turning back to look at him, you continue to remove his hair, blocking out enough of their conversation.  The whole time he talks with the man his hands fondle your tits, softly moaning with the way you’re riding him.  “You’re looking at my girl fucking hard.” “You’re kinda fucking in front of me.”  His hands sliding from your breasts to your ass before he squeezes and pulls you closer.  “Seriously?  You want me to give you a minute?” “No.  You don’t think she’s pretty?”  He knows there’s no good answer.  If he says yes, Robert will be pissed, if he says no, Robert will be pissed so instead he stays silent.  

Finishing up you lay the clippers down on the table.  Brushing the remaining bits of hair of his body.  Knowing most will have to be washed off.  Robert’s hands tight on your ass moves your body to fuck him.  Mouth attaching to your nipple, he quickly looks over at the man.  “Yeah, guess I’m going to have fucking watch until you’re finished.” “You don’t shut your fucking mouth; I’ll make you eat my cum out of her cunt.” He never speaks again, but doesn’t dare to move.  Overcome with the pleasure building up in your core you hold tightly to Robert’s neck.  “What did I fucking tell you?” his words harsh as he screams at you, realizing now that your fingers had dug in too harshly.  His hand connects around your throat.  Squeezing enough to block off your air, but not enough to cause too much pain.  

His hips piston into you harshly as he tilts his body upward.  “I said no fucking marks, you fucking slut.”  The sting of him calling you a slut instead of his slut hurts.  But your body doesn’t care.  It cums on him harshly.  Legs trembling, while he laughs.  “Such a fucking slut, you like that.  I got you squirting on me.  You see that.  She’s dripping down my legs.  Don’t worry I’ll make you lick up your mess to clean it while we watch.”

His hand loosens its grip as you feel the hot tendrils of his cum fill you up.  Normally your body would collapse on top of him, but Roberts pushes you back.  Falling in the floor.  Leaning forward he scoops up his leaking spend with his fingers, shoving it in your mouth.  “Now, clean up your mess with your tongue.”   Humiliated you stare up at him.  Wanting him more than ever to call you his Pretty Girl.  He just sits on the chair staring at you, pulling his pants up to cover himself, while you’re naked to this man in the room.  “Jesus Christ, Pronge.” “Shut the fuck up.  She knows the fucking rules.  And you’ll watch, too.”

“Am…am I still your pretty girl?” eyes full of tears that you refuse to fall.

“You still wearing your collar?” you nod.  “Then clean this fucking mess.” Leaning towards the floor you lick up the mess, looking up at him, wanting more than ever for him to praise you.  Pulling yourself to your knees you look up at him with doe eyes.  Thick fingers dig around your pussy and wiping whatever he can around your cheek.  “That’s my good Pretty Girl.  Why did I have to do that?” “I was marking you, Sir.” “Good girl.  Go clean yourself up.  I’ve got to finish with C… with my associate.”

“Can I wait on you, Sir?  I get cleaner when you wash me.” “That’s fine.  Get our bed clothes ready.  Don’t listen to us.”  As you walk out, you get a quick playful smack to your ass and when you turn, he gives you a smile, and you know he’s proud of you for correcting your mistake.  “Now where were we?  You were giving me some information concerning Diskant’s punk ass.”

Next

Masterlist

[georgiapeach305132]

Mr. Freezy Pops

Summary: After meeting Robert Pronge for the first time he can’t get enough of you.

Pairings: Paul Diskant X Reader, Robert “Mr. Freezy” Pronge X Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Mr. Freezy (because...yeah), Explicit Language, Explicit sexual content, PIV sex, unprotected sex, non-con/dub-con, dirty talk, breast play, Dark!, Bondage, Degradation, pet name (Babe, pretty girl), withholding food and water, cuckholding, guns, kidnapping 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2045

🍦Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11🍦BONUS Part 12🍦

Series Masterlist

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Cheerfully you traipse into your husband’s precinct.  Having a day off you decided to be the sweet wife that you are and bring him some lunch.  Detective Paul Diskant is not overly fond of his beautiful wife walking into a place where some of the most brutal criminals come in, but when he sees your smiling face walk through the door, he can’t help but to return your grin. 

“Hey, Babe.  What’re you doin’ here?”  He asks, wrapping his arms around you tightly. 

“Got off early.  I knew you’d be working late, so I thought you might like a late lunch.”  You try to pay attention to your husband’s handsome face, but a man with unkempt hair, large glasses, and yellowed teeth keeps making kissy faces at you.  Paul notices where your eyes are drifting to and stands to block the man’s view of his wife’s figure. 

The man who had been making you uncomfortable laughs, looking at the officer that is questioning him, “She may seem all sweet and innocent, but I bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.” “Pronge, I wouldn’t be talking about Detective Diskant’s wife like that.  He’s very possessive with her.  He overhears you, he won’t be too kind,” Detective Ludlow warns him.  Robert Pronge only nods his head with a smirk, continuing to steal a peak, and only seeing your husband’s broad shoulders.  “Eyes here.  Don’t look at her.” _______________________________________________________________

Disoriented you wake up in a dark, cold, and dank room.  Looking around you, trying to decipher exactly where you are, arms tied above your head, but you are clothed, and no one seems to be around.  Screaming for help or anyone to listen, only to be met with silence.  You rustle around with your wrists that are tied up only to make the restraints even tighter.  Nearly giving up, you can’t help but to have tears leak out of your eyes, forgetting everything that Paul had taught you.   You do notice how your feet and legs aren’t tied up, so at the very least if someone shows themselves you could fight them off, but then how would you fully break free?  Continuing to wriggle around you hear the squeak of a door, and heavy footsteps walking down the stairs to meet you. 

“I see you're awake, Pretty Girl.”  The smell of cheap whiskey and stale cigarettes lingers on his breath as he brings his face closer to you.  His sweaty and greasy skin rub along your face as you cry harder. 

“What do you want?” “You.”  He answers harshly as his hand traces the silhouette of your body. 

“Why?  What did I do?” “You’re fucking beautiful.  I wanted you, so I took you.” “My husband’s a de-detective.”  You hiccup trying to catch your breath through your tears.  “He’ll find you and kill you.” “I know he’s a fucking detective.  Where do you think we met?”  Suddenly it hits you where you saw the man.  Paul’s precinct.  When the lightbulb of that realization hits your face even the man smiles.  “Ding ding ding.  We’ve got ourselves a winner.  You had to come and see your husband all dressed up, huh?  If you would have kept that pretty ass at home, I never would have known the sweet pussy Diskant has.” “Fuck you!”  You scream at his face, causing his grin to become even wider, exposing his yellowed crooked teeth. 

“Oh, you will.”  He taunts you.  

“I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole you ass hole.  Let me fucking go before my husband finds you and kills you.”  You try to pretend you’re sure of this fact, but you’re not. There’s no windows here.  If you were close to someone, they would have heard you screaming. 

“Aw, pretty girl.  Such anger.  But you better watch your fucking mouth if you know what’s good for you.”  He spins on his heels leaving your arms still hanging.  Tears continue to fall down your face, feeling helpless.   

________________________________________________________________

You’re not sure of how long he left you down there before he comes walking downstairs carrying a delicious smelling plate of food.  A tall glass of water and you can’t stop salivating.  Fully aware now as to how hungry and thirsty you are.  

“Miss me, pretty girl?”  Your face solemn you refuse to answer him.  Licking his lips he takes a bite of the food, drinking a big gulp of the water.  Still, you remain silent.  “Suit yourself. His tall body sits down, slowly eating bite after bite, drinking messily from the cup.  “This would be a lot better for you if you fucking talked to me.” “What is there to say?” 

“Was that so hard?”  Your eyes grow distant and cold and you turn away from him.  “It might do you some good to remember you’re tied up and at my mercy.  Show me a bit of fucking kindness and I might take pity on you.”  He stands throwing the plate and cup at your body, and there’s nothing you can do.  Your body now covered in the food, he stalks over to you, running his tongue on your body and clothes, licking up the remainder of the meal.  “Perhaps I need to remind you of your place.  Keep being a fucking bitch.”  His body returns up the stairs, leaving you alone and covered in sweat, food, and his saliva. ________________________________________________________________

The next time he comes down the stairs, you decide it’s best to talk to the easily irritated man.  This time he brought another glass of water and an ice cream pop.  With a quick drink of the water, he sits it down, slowly opening up the frozen confection.  “Who are you?” He smiles walking closer, “Robert Pronge.  You can call me Mr. Freezy if you want pretty girl.” He shoves the ice cream pop in your face, and greedily your mouth licks and bites at it.

You ignore the man holding it and his too audible moans with every lick of the pop you take. Harshly he shoves the dessert deep in your throat.  The many times you’ve deep throated your large cocked husband, makes this not be too much of an intrusion.  “Oh, you’re in trouble now, pretty girl.”

Your tongue stops its movement when you comprehend why he had been moaning.  A quick glance down and you see the tent in his overalls.  “I-I’m married.”  You whimper. 

“Don’t care.  Where’s your husband now.” “He’ll be looking for me.” “You make this easy for me, and I'll let you go.” “No!  Please don’t.  I won’t.”  Your voice is a blubbering mess as you shake your head at him.

“Fine.  Looks like I need an insurance policy.” Picking up the glass he throws the water at your face and retreats up the stairs.  Tongue flicking out of your mouth you lap up as much of the liquid as you can, still parched for more. ________________________________________________________________

You wake to a slap to your face.  Your mouth still dry, as your eyes focus on the ass hole in front of you.  Another glass of water still in his hand.  “You’ve been sleeping so much pretty girl.  Want some water.”   

Nodding your head enthusiastically you answer him, “Please.  I’ll do anything.” “Is that a promise?”  Another nod, and you know it’s a mistake, but at this point you just want to survive.  He walks closer to you, tilting the glass to your mouth while you selfishly drink it down.  Not caring that his tongue laps up the water that spills from your mouth, while rubbing his swollen pants on you, and fondles your breasts with his hand.  After the glass is finished, he steps to the side. 

And that’s when you see him.  You’re handsome and clean-cut husband tied up and gagged. You gasp watching him stone cold frozen on the chair, as he angrily watches Mr. Freezy at your side.  “Thought we might put on a show for him.  You like to bring him up so often.  Shall we?” “No.  Please, don’t do this.  Please.”  Tears are refusing to come to your eyes with how dehydrated you are. 

“Fine then.”  Producing a pistol out of his pocket he walks to your husband pointing at his head.  “One.  Two...” “No!  Do what you want.  Just don’t hurt him.”  Thinking that Paul might object to save your honor, he doesn’t. 

“That’s more like it.”  His hands yank down the gag off his mouth, before walking back to you. Quickly his hands release you from your bindings, and pushes your body to the floor. “Don’t make this too hard on me, pretty girl.  Or I kill you both.”   

His hands rub over your body as he undresses you.  Maneuvering your naked body to be on your knees, he jerks your head up to look at Paul.  “Want him to see the way you look when I fuck you.” “I’m sorry.”  You whisper at Paul.   

Freezy’s hands rub through your folds with a hiss, “I haven’t even touched her, and she’s already wet.  Wanna see?”  Hands moving up to show your husband your slick coating his calloused hands.  “Thought you didn’t like me. Your body tells a different story.  Maybe she likes being treated like the whore she is, huh, Diskant?” You sob as you feel himself pumping into his fist, grabbing a hip to line you up before slamming into, you.  Giving your pussy no time to adjust to his length as he ruts into your sensitive walls.  His tip hitting your cervix as he bottoms out into you.  “Such a fucking slut, ain’t she?  Been keeping this tight cunt from me for too long Diskant.”  His voice is harsh as he taunts Paul. 

Your eyes red as you stare up at your angry husband, still not a word is spoken out of his mouth, and you don’t know whether it’s a good or a bad thing.  Freezy’s cold fingers wrap around you as he stimulates your clit with one, grabbing a hold of your tit with the other.  Your body betrays you as you let out a moan.  “I fucking knew it, you cockslut.  Knew you wanted me to fuck your greedy cunt.  You feel that pretty girl?  It’s grabbing my cock so good.  You’re already leaking, you fucking bitch.  That’s all you’re good for.  Fucking fuck toy, huh, Diskant?” 

Feverishly he fucks into you, shouting filthy words to you and Paul.  “Look at him.  Look at your bitch husband.  Could he make you feel as good as I do?  Better answer correctly or I fucking kill him.”  You shake your head no. “What’s that pretty girl?  Tell him.  Tell him who owns this pussy. Who...fucking...makes...you...fucking...feel...this...fucking...good?”  Punctuating each word with a harsh thrust, and slaps to your ass.  “Tell him.” He grunts. 

“You do.”  You whimper, body succumbing with pleasure to him fucking you. 

“That’s right.  Who owns this tight fucking pussy?”  He shouts, pulling your hair to fully gaze up at your husband’s cold eyes. 

“You.” “Who?  What’s my fucking name?” “Mr. Freezy.”  You scream as the warmth of an impending orgasm heats you up. 

“Say it you fucking bitch.  Say I own this pussy.” “Mr. Freezy owns this pussy.”  Eyes rolling back as your orgasm rolls through your body.  His pace doesn’t change, racing for his own release. 

“Remember what I told you.”  You aren’t sure, but the words sound like they fall from Paul’s mouth. 

“I remember.”  Freezy growls.  Pulling himself out of you he pumps his fist, until your back is coated in his hot cum.  “Don’t spill inside of her.”   

Your body is frozen, feeling him leave behind you, you watch as your husbands, unbound hands come to his sides, standing in front of you looking at Freezy.  “We even now?”  He asks. 

Scrambling, you back away from the two men, eyes glancing between them.  “Yeah.  You can go home now pretty girl.” “What?”  You sputter confused.  He wasn’t tied up.  He watched that, and wasn’t tied up. 

“Go home with your husband, you fucking slut.  Clearly you see all you mean to him.  Willing to sell his wife’s pussy to keep him out of the pen.” Your head shakes, refusing to look at Paul, feeling rage build up in your chest at your husband.  “You stay here, I’ll have to get you a collar so you won’t forget who you belong to.”  His hands that smell of your tangy arousal lift your chin to look up at him.  “You staying with me, pretty girl?” 

Masterlist

[littlelioncub43]

He Sees You When You’re Sleeping (And He Knows When You’re Awake)

Summary: Your next door neighbor, Robert, doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but there was one thing that was on his wishlist—you. 

Pairing: Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Female! Reader, neighbor AU!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY(minors DNI, please, I mean it), breaking and entering, non con themes but nothing non con happens, mentions of murder, stalking, Robert being a peeping Tom, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, pussy spanking, d/s dynamic, degradation, bondage, knife kink, Daddy kink, obsessive behavior, possessive sex, creampie, masturbation (m), claiming kink, filth. Just. filth. This has dark themes. You are in control of your media consumption. I love you.

Word Count: 5k and some change.

A/N: This is my submission for Happy Hoe-lidays Writing Challenge! I absolutely love Mr. Freezy. Much more than I should. But, writing this was so much fun! I have so many more Freezy fics planned out for the coming year, so I hope you stick around to read them when I eventually write them. Thank you all so much for reading and reblogging! I love hearing back from you guys! 

Dividers made by the lovely @firefly-graphics

The Christmas lights that hung around the neighborhood twinkled with a sort of artificial jolliness that made Robert scowl. It didn’t take much to make him sneer, but that addition of Christmas lights, snowmen, reindeer, and other bullshit lawn decorations were the cherry on top of the shit-show of the season. Parking his truck in the garage, he tossed his large duffle bag to his work table with a sigh. There were far too many knots in his back, bruises littered his sides from the fight that the mark put up, he was hungry and he was 90% sure that there was nothing to eat in his fridge. It was another shitty Christmas Eve. With another annoyed sigh, he stomps through his house to the shower; he needed to get the dried blood out from under his nails or he was going to go bat shit crazy.

The hot shower definitely helped some of his aches, his muscles no longer whining with fatigue. He was halfway relaxed when the doorbell rang. The chirpy ding-dong of the bell brought a wave of rage over him. Dressing in a pair of comfortable jeans and a random t shirt, he barreled for the door. “I swear to fucking God, if it’s Chuck, I’m gonna kill the fat bastard,” he snarled to himself.

Whipping the door open, with his long hair still damp and his lips poised to tell Chuck to fuck off and leave him alone, he recoiled in surprise. You stood on his porch with a small smile, the smile died when you saw the rage on his face, concern took over your beautiful features.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve come at a bad time,” you said smoothly, your voice was always so calm, “I saw you come in and thought you might be hungry.” In your hands you held a medium size container. Even through the lid, Robert could smell the enticing aroma of the hot meal. “It’s that chicken you liked so much.”

Robert’s face softened the moment he saw you, he couldn’t help it, especially when you bring him food. You offered him the container, which he takes with a smirk. His eyes raking over your figure as he leans against the door frame. “Thank you, Princess, just what I needed.”

The bashful smile you give him ignites a deep sense of pride within him, he always felt that way around you; he wanted to devour you completely, to consume every part of you until you were a part of him and he a part of you. You look up at his hulking frame through your lashes, loving how he looks at you, his eyes smoldering with an enchanting darkness. You always thought he had such interesting eyes; powerful pools of blue with insidious sparks that stayed hidden behind his glasses. You thought he was beautiful. Martha says he scares her shitless, but you didn’t care, as long as she stayed clear of Robert. Everyone in the neighborhood knew that he was your Bobby, just like they knew that you were his Princess.

“It’s no problem,” you assure him, “I’ll get going, don’t wanna bother you anymore than I already have,” before Robert could stop you, you were turning to head back to your house next-door. Before you descended the steps of his porch, you turned back to him with a flirty smile, “Merry Christmas, Bobby.”

He gives you a wink, feeling his jeans tighten at the sultry tone you use, the smirk staying on his face as he watches you enter you home. He shuts the door and makes for the kitchen, his half hard cock can wait, his empty stomach, on the other hand, cannot. Dinner was delicious as always, he had a weakness for your cooking. The only thing he misses about that cunt of an ex-wife of his was the home cooking. You’d given him enough to have leftovers for tomorrow, always so considerate. He checked the clock as he drank the rest of his beer. It was almost time.

Walking through the house, he slowly shut off the lights one by one. Each room dimmed perfectly to make you think he was asleep. Once he reached his bedroom, he quietly settled into the armchair in front of his window. He had the perfect view of your room from here, the houses were close enough that he didn’t need binoculars to see you, and you apparently hated the concept of curtains, leaving the view into your bedroom unobstructed.

Robert couldn’t help but lick his lips as he waited in the dark for you to start getting ready for bed. He knew your routine by heart at this point: you showered, put on lotion, combed your hair, put on clothes, then went to bed. Sometimes, if he was lucky enough, you’d give him a little show. You’d pull out that little toy from the bottom drawer of your nightstand and show him how cute you look when you cum.

When your bathroom door opens, Robert practically groans with excitement, the newest pair of panties he swiped from your hamper held tightly in his fist. He unzips his fly as you move around the room, dressed only in a fluffy towel, his dick already throbbing with need. Robert wraps the silky panties around his base, sighing when the cool fabric rested against his heated skin. You begin to apply your lotion, the last time he was in your room he couldn’t help but smell the bottle, and the cocoa butter scent quickly became one of his favorites. Your hands glide over your smooth skin slowly, Robert’s hand around his cock matches your pace, until you drop the towel to the floor. It was going to be a merry Christmas, indeed.

Humming to yourself, you shut off the shower and wrapped yourself in your favorite towel. Swinging the bathroom door open, you check the time and smile to yourself; he should be watching you right about now. You’d noticed him a little over 7 months ago; those adorable glasses of his caught the reflection of the nearby streetlight. Ever since then, you both had a routine: you’d eat your dinner around 9, do a last minute sweep through of the house, watch the lights in Bobby’s house shut off one by one at 9:15, take a shower, and by 9:30 he was sat in his room to watch you get ready for bed by 10.

Of course, now knowing that you had an audience, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him. Standing to put your lotion on, sometimes wearing your expensive silk robe while you dance around your room (swaying your hips a little more than usual)—but today. Oh, today, you pulled out the big guns. It was Christmas after all.

You let the towel fall from around your middle, revealing your body in all its naked glory. You had to stifle a pleased smirk at the thought of what Bobby might be thinking of your little gift. Sighing, you continue with your routine, massaging your lotion into your skin with a little more sensuality than normal. A devious smirk takes over your features as you pretend to drop your comb. Turing your back to the window, you bend at the waist, giving Bobby a perfect view of your glistening pussy. You stay bent for a moment before popping back up and finishing your routine. Before you know it, you were dressed in your silkiest pajama set and switching out the light.

“Goodnight, Bobby,” you talk to his window, “hope you enjoyed the show.”

You crawl into bed, and drift off into a comfortable sleep.

Robert’s hand moved in quick, short motions over his shaft, beads of precum dribbling from his aching tip, his balls heavy with need. As you methodically apply your lotion, Robert can’t help but growl, his hand tightens around his cock in his frustration. He feels the high he so desperately wants teasing him at the base of his spine, his thick legs twitching as he thrusts into his hand. The delicious softness of the panties offer him some relief, but his mind wanders to how soft your skin must be, and how much softer that little slice of heaven between your thighs must be. He sees the comb drop and immediately speeds his hand up.

“Oh fuck! Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up, c’mon bend over for me, Princess, bend over for Daddy,” he mumbles to himself, his gaze locked on the silky skin of your back, willing you to bend over.

“Fucking hell!” He curses loudly when you do give him what he wants, your folds shine in the soft lamp light, your thighs look plush, and, God, your ass—he would murder the whole block just to bite it. The glorious view only last a few seconds, far too short if Robert was being honest.  You get dressed rather quickly, much to his dismay. When you go to turn the light out, he can see your lips moving, your eyes on his window. A deep growl rumbled in his chest. You knew.

He didn’t like that.

He tucked himself back into his jeans, his fingers petting the gusset of your underwear absentmindedly as he glared at your now dark window. You knew he was watching. How long had you known? You obviously didn’t mind him watching or else you would have called the police. You’d been letting him watch you undress for weeks or months, and you never made a move— and that’s what pisses him off so much. How long could he have been fucking you? How long could he have been making you cum on his cock rather than that pathetic toy you have? How long have you been denying him what he deserves?

Another snarl, he stands up and stomps off to the garage, your panties tucked into his back pocket like they always are. His duffle bag was already packed, he had everything he needed right there waiting for him. Leaning against his work bench, he lit a cigarette to calm him down. If he was gonna do this, he didn’t want to be sloppy about it. He looked at the clock, it was 10:27.

“11 o’clock,” he muttered to himself with a nod. He was gonna wait until 11. You’d be asleep, you wouldn’t wake up, you were a rather heavy sleeper and he found that out the hard way.

Another cigarette and a glass of water later, Robert was slipping on his boots. He didn’t bother putting on a jacket, it was a short walk from his house to yours. He hummed a Christmas song he heard on the radio as he double checked his duffle, making sure that everything he needed was there. With a satisfied smile, he zipped the bag and slung it over his shoulder. It was time.

Your lock was no match for him, it never was. A handful of turns with his lock picking kit and he was in— you really should install a better deadbolt. He shut the door silently behind him, locking it, too, for good measure. The house was dark and silent, the subtle whirring of the overhead fan and a gentle hum of your heater was all that stirred in the house. He tip toed his way to the stairs, he knew which floorboards and stairs creaked by heart, and with expert steps, avoided each one perfectly.

Your bedroom door was left open, like always. He saw the outline of your sleeping form underneath your duvet cover, your back towards him as you dreamt. Robert felt his heart pound in his chest, the adrenalin kept his senses sharp, any small noise or movement you made had him stopping in his tracks and holding his breath. You rolled on to your back with a sleepy sigh, your face serene and calm in the glowing lights from outside. You were absolutely beautiful, Robert was sure that he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there staring at you, but the small noise you made was enough to break him out of his trance. He wasn’t here to just look at you. Setting the duffle bag on the floor next to your bed, he opened it quietly and got to work.

You sighed as consciousness began to creep back into you. You moved to rub your eyes but your hands didn’t budge. With a confused look, you tried again, tugging harder on the seemingly invisible force that held your arms down. Something cold and sharp pressed against the curve of your throat to keep you from fighting. You shivered when you noticed the cold air that enveloped you. Your duvet pushed to the foot of your bed without a thought, then you felt something moving on top of you. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness around you, you saw the outline of a figure looming over you. You would have been frightened if you hadn’t recognized his long hair. You smiled sleepily up at him.

“Hi, Bobby,” you rasped, and blinked your eyes a few more times to see him clearly. There he was, straddled on top of you, his face set in a cold yet lustful expression. Your greeting caught him off guard, his eyes widening in shock when you smiled at him and relaxed further into your bed. He was ready for you to scream, to kick, to beg for mercy and swear that you wouldn’t tell a soul about this; he wasn’t ready for this. When he swallowed thickly but said nothing, you chuckled lowly, stretching a little underneath him, “whatcha doin’?”

Your devious little smirk brought back his voice, you were teasing him again.

“Had to pay you a little visit for that stunt you pulled earlier,” he trailed the knife along the column of your throat, taking note of how you shivered when it touched your heated skin, “just couldn’t stay away any longer.”

“Mmm, I was wondering how long it’d take before you did,” you chuckled again, the anger from earlier bubbling up again in Robert’s chest.

“How long?” His voice was hard. You knew what he meant.

“Since May.”

A low growl rumbled in his throat. He didn’t like that at all.

“Seven months? You’ve been keeping me from your sweet little cunt for seven months?” He spat, the bulge at the front of his jeans rut into your stomach as he leans over you, one hand braced by your head. When you said nothing and instead looked up at him through your lashes, it was his turn to chuckle lowly under his breath. “Oh, Princess, I’m gonna have to punish you for that.”

“O-Ok,” you nodded, your panties were soaked the moment you felt him on top of you. Robert groaned under his breath at your compliance, you were already being such a good girl. You twisted against the ropes holding your hands above your head. “Bobby, untie me, wanna touch you,” you asked softly. You could see him thinking it over, “Please? I’ve been extra good this year.”

“Oh, have you, Princess?” He asks skeptically, his knife trailing down the front of the cream silk tank top, he loved how you shivered with excitement when he teased the hem of your top with the blade. His hips moving gently rocking into you to make you feel how hard he is. You hum with a nod, biting your lip as he moulds his body to yours. “You think that teasing me like that makes you a good girl?”

The harsh edge to his voice has another wave of slick staining your panties and a small moan slipping past your lips. You see his pleased smirk clearly in the dark. You lick your bottom lip and regain your senses. “No, it doesn’t… but haven’t I been so good for you this year? Made you dinner, helped you with your laundry, kept those pesky neighbors of ours away from you,” you leaned up a little, your eyes on his pulls him down closer to you, your noses barely touching, “haven’t let anyone touch me all year, saved myself all for you—doesn’t that make me a good girl, Bobby?”

He snarls and smashes his lips to yours, the kiss is all tongue and teeth, he overpowers you easily. You mewl into his mouth, kissing him back as best you can as he devours you, the little noises you make go straight to his cock. Your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen but you absolutely love it, his saliva mixes with yours as his tongue explores your mouth in greedy swipes. When he pulls back to gasp for air, you can’t help but whine and chase his lips, but the blade of the knife forces you to stay down.

“You’re gonna take your punishment like the good girl you are, then maybe I’ll let you go,” he bites out, his eyes crazed with power. He loved the way you nodded and took what he gave you, he knew you were different from other women already. They hated when he got too rough or slapped them around a bit in bed, but you—oh, he knows you can take it. If not, then… oh, well. He gives you a twisted smile, the sharp blade of his knife suddenly ripping down the front of your tank top. You gasp as he cuts the top to shreds, pushing the offensive fabric out of the way of your bare chest. You wish you could say that your nipples were hard because of the cold, but you couldn’t help yourself; not when the man you’ve been lusting for for over a year was literally tearing your clothes off.

The moment your chest is exposed to him, Robert wastes no time wrapping his mouth around as much of your breast as he could. The knife clatters to the floor as he tosses it behind him with a groan, his hand now free to pinch the other side. You keen for him, and your moans are everything he’s ever dreamed about; his tongue is just as unforgiving on your chest as it was in your mouth, it moves in rough, passionate swipes around your nipple. His hand pinches your bud, massaging the supple flesh eagerly. Your body writhes underneath him as you moan, your head tips back on to the pillows as he switches between your tits, his saliva coating his chin and the heated skin of your chest. “Oh, my God, Bobby, yes!”

He smirks proudly, his ego inflating with each praise you sing for him. A rough calloused hand dips down to the apex of your thighs to pet the damp spot on your shorts. When his digits feel the wetness there, he can’t help but moan happily. You were drenched.

“Aw, Princess, you’re soaked,” he taunted, “such a needy fucking cunt, just beggin’ for me to play with her, ain’t she?” He chuckled darkly when you nodded and thrust into his hand. His eyes stayed glued to yours, his gaze darkening with lust, his pupils blown wide. “How many months, Princess?”

“Seven…” You whisper, your chest heaving with excitement.

“Seven,” he confirmed and pulled your shorts and panties down in one harsh movement, the cool air hitting your core made you shiver once more. He placed his jean clad thigh between yours, his hand pushing your thigh out to expose you to him, he squeezes the flesh there, silently telling you to keep it open for him. Once he was in position, he gripped your jaw to make you meet his eyes again. “Seven.”

Suddenly, his hand came cracking down on your exposed pussy. You wailed at the shocks of pain that shot through you, they quickly fizzled into pleasure as he pet your folds to calm the sting briefly before he slapped your pussy again with a growl. The sting was excruciating but exquisite at the same time, you were a mess beneath him, babbling his name and curses as he spanked you seven times. Robert’s palm was coated in a layer of your juices, your puffy little folds were red from his slaps, a pool of your arousal was gathering beneath you on the bed. He couldn’t stand to wait anymore.

“Such a good girl, took it like I knew you would, knew you’d fucking love it, God, you’re such a dirty little slut,” he mumbled quickly as he tore his shirt over his head, his eyes locked on your form; hands above your head, leaving you helpless and vulnerable, your face blissed out, your legs spread and waiting for him— he wanted to remember this moment forever.

“Bobbyyyy,” you whined for him, writhing and pulling at the ropes again, your bottom lip jutting out. He smirked and undid his belt and fly as quickly as he possibly could with fumbling hands.

“I said maybe, Princess, never said I’d untie you,” he says gruffly and pushes his pants and boxers off to the floor.

You catch a glimpse of his cock in all its uncut glory. He’s a monster; thick and long. There was no way that you wouldn’t feel him for days after, even if he was gentle with you. But knowing Bobby, he wasn’t going to be gentle. It had you drooling with need, you like your lips without a second thought. His dark laugh pulls your eyes back to his face as he wraps a large hand around his base to stroke himself. “I’ll fuck that sweet mouth of yours after, been dreaming of fucking your little pussy until you’re crying and begging me to stop…”

“Mmm but you won’t stop, will you, Bobby?” You grin seductively up at him, his cock flexing at your words.

“Not a fucking chance,” he growls and speeds his hand up. He settles between your legs, your thighs spread so wide that the stretch almost hurts. You welcome it, you want it to hurt, you want to remember everything he gave you.

He rubs his length through your soft folds, coating himself in your slick. Your head lifts from the pillows to watch him rub against you, you mewl when his tip catches at your entrance. A strong hand roughly grabs your jaw again, forcing you too look up into his icy blue eyes, his stare cold, and for a moment you want to giggle. This is why they call him Mr. Freezy.

“Fucking look at me, I want to see your face when I split you open,” he grits through his teeth. You nod, licking your lips before he snaps his hips forwards. You let out a shriek, your eyes rolling back in your head, as you arch your back to cling to him. God, you’d kill to have your hands untied.

Robert waits a moment, moaning with you and relishing the feeling of your hot snatch welcoming him home. He feels that anger creeping back, he can’t believe you denied him heaven for so long. He smashes his lips against yours again then sets a brutal pace, every fiber in his being telling him to pound you into the mattress until you’re sobbing. So that’s what he does.

“Seven months, seven fucking months, Princess,” he pants out in a gravelly voice, his hands paw at your flesh, roaming from place to place, pinching and groping to his heart’s content, “coulda been fucking you silly all this time, instead of watching you, God, I had to watch you touch yourself, touch what’s mine, what should have been mine the moment I fucking saw you!”

He was pounding into you violently now, the whole bed frame shaking and slamming into the walls in time with his thrusts. With your hands bound above your head, you can do nothing but take it, and you love it. Your mind shutting down as he continues his vicious pace, all you can do it moan for him. He growls when he feels your pussy begin to flutter around him, and in one fluid motion, he brings his hands to your thighs and spreads you even further, his hips driving forward to push even deeper into you.

“O-Oh, fuck! Daddy!” You scream in a wavering voice, your eyes widening in shock; no one has ever been that deep before, he was touching places you never knew you had.

The moment the title rolled off your tongue, Bobby was a goner. There was no way in hell he was ever going to let you go now. Not when you’re so perfect. Not a chance. He lets out his own shaky moan before curling over you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. Grunt after grunt falls from his lips, your melodic moans fill his ear, he could hear you gasping for breath after each thrust he gives you, his tip rubbing that special spot inside of you that had you nearly sobbing.

“Please, Daddy, please!” You beg, your fists shaking with need, your head leaning against his in a bid to hold him to you with your hands bound. One huge hand leaves your aching thighs to find you clit. Once he felt that little swollen button, he drew circles nearly as rough as his thrusts. He couldn’t help but growl when you velvety snatch clamped down even tighter like a wet fucking fist around him. He brought his lips to your ear to whisper to you.

“Pussy doesn’t want me to leave, does she? Just wants me to stay inside forever, wants me to fucking fill her up, cum so deep inside her that you can never get rid of me… God, you’re so fucking good, Princess, so fucking good, m’gonna give you what you need, and you’re gonna fucking take it, do you hear me?”  He tells you, his own high creeping up on him, his balls full and heavy.

You nod and whimper, “yes, Bobby! I’ll take it, please gimme it, Daddy, want it, want it bad!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, take it, you greedy bitch,” he whispers breathlessly, his own mind beginning to get lost in the never ending waves of pleasure. His hand strumming your clit in sloppy patterns, his excitement getting to him. The pit in the base of your tummy pulls tighter and tighter until you can’t take it anymore, you shatter completely. Your back arches dramatically as you cum, your body thrashing against the rope, you see star erupt behind your shut eyes, your thighs shake and tremble around his waist.

The moment you cum, Robert lifts his head to watch you fall over the edge. If he thought you were beautiful before, then you were ethereal when you came on his cock. Watching you fall apart proved to be too much for him to handle, he follows you over the edge nearly immediately. His back arching as well, giving you the perfect view of his face, his skin was dewey with sweat, his glasses had been lost at some point, his eyes crossed ever so slightly before shutting completely, his jaw hung open slack as he let out a long, wavering moan. His hands claw at your skin to pull you closer, closer, closer, he loved how your supple body bent to his will, your hips grind against his to milk your highs for all their worth.

The waves of pleasure slowly but surely began to subside, exhaustion took over Robert. His arms gave out and he opted to rest on top of you, his large shoulders heaving to catch his breath. You loved feeling him on top of you, your chests rising and falling in sync as you bask in the afterglow. His rough hands slide over the scratches and claw marks he left behind slowly, massaging the welts that wanted to form for a brief moment before lifting his head up. He wastes no time again in smashing his lips to yours, he’s still forceful but he moves much slower, tiredness taking hold. The kisses are sloppy and spit-filled, just how you like it. The air was once again stolen from your lungs as he kissed you; but he was more than just kissing you, he was owning you, reaffirming to both of you that you belong to him now.

“Bobby, please,” you mumbled against his lips, it was a soft plea that he listened to. Without moving his lips, he untied your hands from the bed post. A soft sigh fluttered against your skin when you were finally able to cradle his face, pulling him even deeper into the kisses if possible. You push a hand through his hair, your nails gently scraping his scalp. Robert can’t help but wonder what those nails would feel like leaving gouges on his back, the thought had his cock twitching, still rock hard inside of you. A small moan of surprise broke your lips from his when he started to rock into you again. You look up at him with doe eyes, shocked to feel him pulsing with need inside your abused cunt. He couldn’t help but smirk and chuckle.

“Oh, Princess, I’m nowhere near done with you just yet,” he growled proudly and slammed into your g spot once more, your nails digging into the meaty curve of his shoulder, his pace slower but still hard. Looking over his shoulder to check the clock, he sees it’s a little past 1:00. With a grin, he turns back to you. “Well, would you look at that. It’s Christmas,” he mouths at the sensitive skin below your ear, sucking deep marks into your skin—another way of claiming you, “the season of giving,” he moans when you move your hips in time with his, “let’s see how many more you can give me before the sun comes up.”

Tag list: @drabblewithfrannybarnes @navybrat817-shares @stargazingfangirl18 @nocturne-pisces @wakingbeauty @sparkledfirecracker @slothspaghettiwrites @tumblin-theworldaway @starksbabie @runawayolives @hawsx3 @purple-babygirl

[stuckysdumbbitch]

love and lost

Summary: You’ve always been daddy’s good girl, praised and cherished. Then why did he left you with the mean old man?

warnings: 18+ content, prostitution, human trafficking, noncon, dubcon, smut, glory hole, purely unethical practices, drugging, force regression, manipulation, pain kink, little!naive reader being taken advantage of, blood, gay sex, painful sex, crying, abandonment, whipping, and more (detailed in each chapter) a

pairings: a shit ton of Sebastian Stan characters, Chris Evans characters x a little! reader

love and lost masterlist

Ransom’s thigh was warm, but not cushy enough for you to fall asleep in your drugged state. The man in front of you, with long wavy hair and glasses, couldn’t stop his gaze from coming to look down at you, kneeled between your Daddy’s thick thighs. You were too immersed at the deer head on the wall to listen at what they were talking. You caught some things; his name was Robert and they were bargaining something.

“Unusual to bring me a virgin,” He declared, taking another sip of his scotch. “You always fuck them before you bring them.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, even though Mr Freezy wasn’t wrong.

“I fucked that pretty mouth, that I’m sure of.” He contradicted, as if his masculinity was to question. Robert shifted, his cock straining against his pants at the idea of her plump lips around something. “I’m not offering a test ride, you either hand the money or I’ll go to Blackwood’s.”

Robert groaned, looking intensely at you as if he was deciding if you were worth it.

“She’ll look awfully pretty with the puppy, you think?” He finally sighed, and you perked your at the mention of a dog.

“Puppy?”you gleefully asked the man, eyes slightly lidded. He smiled at you, baring his razor sharp, white teeth. Ransom’s fingers intertwined through your locks, scratching your head encouragingly.

“Yes baby, you gonna get a puppy to play with.” He grinned, mostly because of the huge amount of money he knew was getting his way. His eyes twinkled as he faced Robert. “What about a glory hole?”

You whimpered when Ransom stood up, took a black briefcase Robert handed him, and started walking out the door. You got on your knees to follow him, but as the door slammed shut, two big hands wrapped around your waist. You squealed as cigarettes and alcohol wafted over you, big arms pressing you against a solid chest.

“Hi little kitty,” Robert whispered in your ear, making you recoil as he pressed the hot muscle of his tongue against your cheek. “Just have to check something.”

His hairy hands slid over your bare thighs, underneath your short skirt and under your white lacy underwear. His hand ran down the smooth side, fingers parting through curls effortlessly until he found your slit. Dry, as he suspected.

You squirmed when his calloused fingers looked for your opening, the other hand keeping your legs apart. He prodded your entrance slowly until he found the barrier, then retreated his hand to place it on your thigh. He verified what he needed.

“Where’s Ran?” you questioned, confused at what the man has just done. Robert didn’t answer, just ignored you as he deftly undid your skirt. “Mr, where’s my daddy?”

Growing irritated, Robert retreated a ball gag from his desk, shuffling it inside your mouth before you could ask “Mr? what is that?”.

You wiggled when you felt him tear at your clothes carelessly, the gag digging into the sides of your mouth. You started to fret, screaming for your Ran at the top of your lungs, legs flailing frantically.

“Fucking bitch,” he groaned,

He dragged you to the hall by your hair, now naked. The rich red carpet burned your bottom, and through tears, you saw him.

His tan coat and expensive scarf, slicked back hair and broad shoulders that gave you comfort. He had turned around at your cries, going to the other side of the long hall. Time seemed to freeze as you dug your nails into Robert’s arm, trying to stab your heel against the floor so you could free yourself and run towards him.

His emotionless face shifted, lips curling into a playful smile as his hand reached over to wave at you.

You continued to fight, but the intension just wasn’t there anymore. Robert managed to pull you into a dark room, with a flickering lightbulb enlightening the weird figure of the room. A young boy was there, and also wasn’t. His lower torso seemed to disappear into a hole in the wall, and his cheek was pressed against a metal surface. He instantly looked at the floor, as if he was fidgeting with his tied hands. Robert slapped you, getting you slightly dizzy so he could easily maneuver your body into the hole next to the boy. He secured your wrists, making you winced at the harshness.

“Behave.”He ordered before standing up and leaving. It wasn’t quick before you made out his hands, now unmistakable, pry your legs open on the other room and secure them to the side.

The tears were hot against your skin, your thumping heart beating against the cool metal as you jumped at every drift of air that passed through your lower region.

“It’s not really that bad,” the boy next to you spoke, voice tinged with awkwardness. His glasses sat uncomfortable on his face due to the fact that he had to constantly lay his face to the side or suffocate. “They are usually done before you know it.”

You frowned, confused about what he was talking about.

“The men,” he explained. “I’m Justin, not the best place to meet huh?”

Before you could even begin to comprehend what he meant, you heard the steps coming from the other room. Three pairs now.

“And we got something special here,” Robert chanted, his hand slapping against the flesh of your ass. You cried beneath the gag. “A virgin!”

“You can have her Buck,” a new york accent drawls, and you hear more footsteps. “I wanna get a piece of my favorite boy.”

You hear Justin whimper, face scrunching up in disgust, or fear, or pain.

“She’s a bit more expensive than the fat bitch,” Robert explained, caressing your folds to pull them apart. “But look at that, still has a hymen, and you know how virgins are, so easy to get wet.”

A few moments of silence before you heard a chuckle.

“I’ll take her.” A third voice answers, and a pair of contrary hands are placed in your ass cheeks, one hot and the other cold.

“Pleasure making arrangements with you gentlemen,” Pronge laughs, almost manically, and then his steps are out of sight-well, hearing?

You feel the hands wander down your slit to cup your pussy, and you jolt. You remembered the time Ransom caught you touching yourself there, and spanked you raw. When his cold metallic hand reached to rub your nub, you shuddered. His ministration had made you slick, and you sniffled at the weird sensation. You heard a zipper go down, and as you didn’t expect anything, you turnt to see Justin.

His cheeks were flushed and he rocked harshly forward. His little squeals had his tongue hanging, eyes bulging underneath his glasses.

Until something big and thick slaps against your clit and you mewl against the red cherry ball. It’s slowly pushes in, pulling your walls apart until you realize the pleasure had subsided and it’s started to hurt. You were sloppy, but the stretch was deliriously burning you. Again, you began to squirm, but the two hands pressed against your hips to pull you even closer.

“Fuck,” the voice curses “For sure she’s a virgin.”

It seemed it would never stop, never reach its limit. He pushed through your barrier and you tensed, walls throbbing. You wanted Ransom, needed to have him coo away the pain and tell you you were his brave, pretty girl.

You felt a hip press against your ass and two balls slap your clit. For a second, the pain ceases, and then your face slammed against the metal.

Ransom was holding you in his arms, pressing wet kisses against your skin as he caged you to the bed. His chest was cold against yours, as if lowering the temperature you were suffering from. His thrusts, deep and short, were hammering into your sore pussy. His arms slid over your back, pulling you even closer as he murmured sweet nothings into your waiting ears. You felt a knot building up in your core, delicious from the friction, but you wanted more. Until it snapped, and you gushed all over him. The duvet was so soft, like clouds…

You felt hairs tickling your face, itching you awake. The second you regained consciousness, you realized how similar Robert was to Ransom. His hands felt similar too, as Robert untied you from the contraption. He picked you up slowly, and the movement made you sense the pain that fulfilled your weak body. A warm liquid spilled down the middle of your thighs, and an ache settles on your lower back. You unconsciously nuzzle into Robert’s chest, his long strides lulling you to sleep.

You don’t recognize the room you are in, with red silk beds and dark furniture. All you could find faintly familiar was the boy from before, Justin, wiping his legs.

You are laid in the bed and a bottle of water is pushed into your lips. Drowsy eyes stare up at the man, drinking it gratefully.

“You did so well,” Robert told you, cleaning down the fluids you didn’t dare to look at with a warm rag. “Everyone wanted to fuck the pretty little virgin,”

You felt tears prickle your eyes and roll down the sides of your face at this, a hand involuntary going down to cup your sore pussy.

“My little girl,” Robert cooed with fake sympathy. “You just need to behave in the future, and you won’t get out there again. Okey pretty baby?”

You nodded, and he observed the way your lips wrapped around the bottle as if it was a nib. Soft, pink lips.

“What do you mean?”Justin pondered, as he tried to get up without faltering. “I have to do Glory holes every Friday, and she doesn’t?”

By the glare on Pronge’s face and the way he stood up and made his way to him, you understood how much Justin he just fucked up. He puffed out his chest, craning his neck to look at the older man, and a slap forced him onto the bed. Justin clutched his cheek, glasses had flown away. A veiny hand wrapped around his neck pushing him flush to the bed.

“What’s up little faggot? you get a lady close and suddenly you try to toughen up?” He sneered, his spit splashing against Justin’s cheek. His face went red, either from the lack of air or humiliation, but Pronge loved it. “Acting like you don’t get cocks up your ass every hour, fucking whore.”

He let him go roughly, straightening over him to smile at you, innocently and clumsily. Justin sobs, and you try your best to maintain eye contact with Robert.

“This is the puppy, pretty girl.” He explains, bending over to kiss your forehead. “Your buddy, only if he behaves.”

He left shortly after you were tucked into bed, locking the door behind him. Justin doesn’t want to talk, he faces away from you as he falls asleep. Under the dim moonlight you can slightly make out the angry red marks on his back. You fall asleep thinking of Ransom, hoping he will pick you up tomorrow from this horrible punishment. You can’t really remember what you did wrong, but you know your Daddy won’t leave you here.