OFF TO THE RACES.
ellie williams, abby anderson x fem! reader.
SUMMARY | you are in a poly relationship with new york’s elite women, ellie williams and abby anderson, but living in the world of power, money, and lust possesses each one of you as the dynamic amongst you three becomes more volatile and violent.
WARNINGS | adult language. graphic violence. polyamorous relationship. abby calls reader “bunny,” ellie calls reader, “little lamb.” mentions of alcohol consumption and drug usage. possessive and obsessive behaviors. dark content: graphic details of t*rture and m*rder, men being pigs, controlling behavior. adult content: sub!reader x doms!ellabs, doing it in a confessional booth, god kink, fingering, degradation, overstimulation, edging, ball gag, strap-ons, face smacking, mommy and daddy kink, knife play w/ branding, double penetration.
NOTES | so brief explanation: this is my fic, off to the races. it used to be on my original, old account that fell under the user “angvlita” but unfortunately i deactivated that account so the fic no longer exists. anyways, all rights are reserved to me for this, and i do not want it published anywhere else. with that being said, please take into caution all the tags and warnings because this isn’t meant to be taken lightly whatsoever. ellie and abby are mean and cruel in here. thank you, and enjoy.
If Los Angeles was the city of Angels, then New York was home for all Hellbound.
You grew up in such a glistening city, where people’s facades weren’t as hidden, illicit affairs took place, and a fifteen year old was trying cocaine for the first time. It held beauty just like Lucifer, having greater cruelty and an ominous essence lingering beneath its soul.
You wish you didn’t get caught up in a reckless lifestyle, that you didn’t become so corrupted that you were a girlfriend to your two best friends.
Ellie Williams, daughter to architect and businessman Joel Miller, and Abby Anderson, daughter to a famous renowned surgeon Jerry Anderson. The two had great power, control, and wealth – they fucking lived off of it. They were cruel and vicious to everyone.
Ellie was a venomous scorpion, Abby personified as such a nefarious viper. The two together were threatening, and it all surprised you when they wanted you in their circle in the early start of Junior Year, easily befriending you.
You remembered it clear as day.
You were sitting at a table, reading Jane Eyre. It was your free period, and you had not much to do, finished with any assignments.
The silence you enjoyed was interrupted when two figures sat themselves down at the table, gaining your attention as you peered up at the book, and noticed elite scholars Ellie Williams, and Abby Anderson.
They were grinning at you, eyeing you like a predator did with their prey, a cascade of goosebumps running over your skin.
“Can I help you?” You asked, bookmarking your spot before closing the book, and setting it down.
You knew it came off rude and too sharp, but their appearance made you uncomfortable, and weirded out.
“We’ve been keepin’ an eye on you,” Ellie said, and your heart sank, not knowing exactly what that mean. “We aren’t here to ruin your life, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckled nervously, fidgeting with your Cartier bracelet. “You have quite the reputation.”
“So you know us?” Abby asked, and you shrugged, unsure of what else to say.
“We want to invite you out,” Ellie added, and your brows knitted together, utterly confused. How could you not be? It was a random invitation, and you didn’t have any prior interactions with them.
You just had Fine Arts Honors with Ellie, and English Literature with Abby — though, you never made any conversations with them, and you didn’t see the need to.
“Why? This is new, no?” You questioned, eyeing them back and forth in the moment the duo looked at one another, words kindling behind their eyes.
“Somethin’ about you is sweet… special,” Abby confessed, and a smile threatened to curl onto your lips. “You interest us.”
“Marrona, at 8PM,” Ellie stated, getting up with the blonde by her side. “Just come by, and if you still don’t like us, you’re free to go.”
“You’re trusting a stranger? Interesting,” you lightly joked, smiling to yourself. “The world must be ending, then.”
They smiled with you, a rare expression anyone could come across.
It was an unforgettable night that you thought of for a week before either of you approached each other again.
Many of your friends told you to not fall for it, that you’d be a laughing stock, and would only be ruined. You didn’t know how ruined you would become, and you simply wanted to know what it would be like to sit in their company.
You were sure it was because of your status — your mother was an heiress, and your father was a CEO of an advanced technology business. You were humble about your life, yet knew you had a higher position in money and glory than them. You were sure they wouldn’t just let anyone in, that they were more intelligent to let a random classmate of theirs be brought into their social circle.
The deeper you fell into their rabbit hole, you had become tainted, and cruel as them. You were their rotten apple, something they possessed and prized so admirably as you were theirs only. Before the relationship was even thought of, you weren’t allowed to talk to anyone else besides them, leaving you to drop all your closest friends, and submit only to the two girls.
Yet, they took care of you like no one else did — expensive gifts, abrupt trips to Europe, fancy dinners, and the sex they gave you.
God, the fucking sex.
It was them at the same time, or one coming to your place to claim you entirely. You didn’t mind it, no, you had become so immune to being theirs, you would please them.
You don’t exactly remember how the polyamory relationship came to be; you were getting closer with Abby, Ellie didn’t like it, and the two had come to the idea of sharing you, right before twelfth grade. You weren’t opposed to it, but hated the twisted repercussions that tied into it.
During all of Senior Year, you weren’t allowed to go out without them by your side, or at least one of your bodyguards. You couldn’t get drunk, only at home, and that’s it; they had this monologue about how dangerous the world is, and how they wouldn’t be able to forgive themselves if something happened to you.
You had no privacy, they always had a guy watching you from a distance if you went out with family, and tracked your location. Your only friends were whoever else was in their group, which wasn’t much whatsoever, so you were practically without anything.
When you all graduated, and you were planning to attend Columbia, you hoped some leniency would be kicked in from their part, but no — the two only got more dominant about everything, to the point they refused to let you share a dorm room with a girl.
“Oh my fucking god, I’m not going to fuck her!” You yelled. “You’re being dramatic; it is better for me to live on campus so I don’t deal with traffic every morning.”
“What if she tries something?” Ellie asked, sitting down on her couch with a glass of bourbon in her hand. “You know we are just trying to look out for you.”
“No, you’re being insane,” you stated, and she scoffed, eyeing Abby. “Both of you have really got to stop this shit. I need to make a career for myself, be my own person without your crazy bullshit jeopardizing it all.”
Abby got up, now towering over you as she grinned. “Such a brat you are,” she mocked, and you shivered, glaring at her. “After all this time, we hoped you would start being appreciative.”
“I… I’m more than grateful for the both of you,” you assured softly, frowning. “But please, I'd rather be in a dorm room than some penthouse where you’re being insufferable.”
“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie asked, hastily standing up, and before you could speak, she grabbed your jaw. “Insufferable, huh?”
You whimpered, the grasp tightening, and worried she might crack a bone. “No… no,” you whispered, and the pair mockingly cooed at your panic.
Ellie shoved you into Abby’s arms. “Deal with her, I’m in a good mood today.”
Abby held onto your wrist, seating herself down, and bent you over her lap. “Gotta keep training you, ‘specially after all this time,” she mumbled, flipping up your skirt. “Starting to think we should just replace your ball with some soap, maybe raise up the punishments.”
“No, no,” you pleaded, peeking up at her. “I didn’t mean to say—”
“Don’t fuckin’ stare at me,” Abby spat, and you whined, looking away as you could feel her hands massage your ass. “You’re lucky it’s me being lenient, not her.”
Abby wasn’t wrong there — Ellie was more harsh with her punishment, would leave you in a puddle of tears, and it would be Abby that had to reel her back into reality. You recalled the moment when Ellie had you bent over the edge of the kitchen table, hitting your ass while she kept her thick rings on, and you were in tears by the end.
You didn’t talk to her for at least two weeks, but she repeatedly apologized, and was no longer able to strike you with no more than seven slaps, and if she did, Abby had to put her in check.
You never knew why you liked being punished like this, like a ragdoll of some sort, or why you let consequences happen to you. You were human, but something about these two keeping you in check was pleasuring, and comforting in a way.
The first hit made you squeal, kicking your feet in reaction. “Fuck!”
“Count, bunny,” she said, the nickname made your stomach turn. “I know you can do it.”
“One…” you shuddered, another strike coming after it. “Fuck— two!”
“Only doing five today, it’s okay,” she assured, kissing the back of your neck, and your ass was met with the third strike.
“Three!”
Another one.
“Four!”
And the last one.
“Five,” you moaned, your ass burning. “I fucking hated that.”
“Me too, bun,” Abby said, picking you up, and let you sit on her lap. “Let me look at my girl.”
She took your face into her hands, fingers brushing past your ears, and grinned. “There’s my bunny, are you okay?” She wondered sincerely, a frown tugged on her lips.
“‘M fine,” you muttered, resting your head on her shoulder as she held you. “Is Ellie mad at me?”
“You know how she is,” she reminded, and you huffed, nodding. “We love you, more than you’ll ever know. We wouldn’t be able to live if someone hurt you, or something horrible happened.”
“I know, didn’t mean to be rude,” you mumbled, and she sighed, kissing the side of your head. “I just feel like both your lives should be more than just me.”
“Oh, baby,” she sighed, bringing your head back up, and gazed at you with immense endearment, you could faint from it. “You are our life. Our religion, our air, everything we want and need.”
You grinned. “You mean that?”
“Of course. Now, let’s go see Ellie, yeah?” Abby suggested, and you agreed, trailing in front of her as you walked to Ellie's bedroom in her penthouse.
“Ellie,” you sang out, pouting. “Are you still mad?” You opened the bedroom door, finding her sitting on her desk chair with an electric guitar in her hands.
Ellie looked up at you the second you were in her presence, and she sighed, sitting the instrument aside of her. “Hey, little one,” she greeted, opening her arms for you. You rushed to her, perching yourself on her lap, and wrapped your arms around her neck.
“Sorry for being rude,” you mumbled into the crook of her neck. “I love you and Abby both.”
“Sweetheart, I know,” she rested her hand on the back of your head, her thumb caressing it. “We know what’s best for you, that’s why we take care of you unlike anyone else.”
Ellie wasn’t wrong there, and that saddened you. Your parents had always be mentally and emotionally distant; they were there physically, but always focused on their own issues. It was either your mother was caught up in her pill addiction, or your father having a new mistress.
There never really was time for you — you raised yourself for as long as you could remember.
Many would say you had no reason to hate your life when you have this trust fund, nepotism lifestyle, but you would trade all of that just for parental affection and care. Yet, that never came, and the only people who tended to your needs were Ellie and Abby.
They came into your life when you needed them the most.
“Our parents want a gathering tonight,” Abby walked into the room, clearly irritated. “First stop is church.”
“Church?” Ellie laughed. “Oh baby, it’s your parents that want that.”
You never understood why your parents went to church. They may have grown up religious, but the things you witnessed them doing led them to earning a one way ticket to Hell.
“We could have our fun,” Abby assured, grinning. “Isn’t being selfish and ungrateful a sin?”
Ellie picked your head up off her shoulder, forcing you to look at her. “Yeah… it is,” she smirked at your protesting whines, and patted your bottom. “Get home, and get changed.”
You walked inside the cathedral by your parents side, searching around for your girls. “Ah, there’s Jerry!” Your father pointed out, taking you and your mother to Abby’s dad. “Jerry!”
Jerry turned around, grinning at him, both hugging one another. You hopped to Abby’s side, smiling up at her. “Hi,” you whispered.
“Hey, baby,” she mumbled, gently pinching your arm. “Ellie is in the confessional booth.”
“What?” You asked. “Why?”
“You sinned,” Abby reminded, and you swallowed thickly as she leaned into your ear. “And you need to repent.”
Your parents were caught in conversation with Jerry, and you sighed heavily, rolling your eyes. You knew they wouldn’t pay much mind if you were gone for a bit.
“Don’t fuckin’ roll your eyes,” she spat, tightly seizing your wrists, and tugged you away with her. To your unfortunate luck, the confessional booth had its own room in the cathedral, and gradually spacious, giving you more than enough privacy.
“Let the fuck go of my wrist!” You shouted, and she halted her footsteps, turning around. “I can follow, ya’know? I’m not dumb.”
Abby ignored you, suddenly tossing you over her shoulder as you screeched, furiously kicking your feet. “Ellie’s going to love hearing this,” she taunted, and you zipped your mouth, giving up all protest.
Abby twisted open up the door to the room, putting you down on your feet, and slammed the door shut.
Ellie was leaning against the wall, joint in her mouth, and was wearing a black suit, a bralette underneath her fine blazer. “There’s our girl,” she beamed, yet her bright expression toned down when she took notice of Abby's unsatisfied attitude. “What did she do?”
“Rolled her eyes, being a brat,” Abby said, and you looked down in shame, not knowing why you kept digging a hole for yourself. “Don’t know why she keeps doing this. Maybe we’ve been too nice.”
Ellie hummed, burning her joint out on the windowsill before leading herself into the stall, her legs spreading as she sat down. “We’ll take our turns. Kneel before God.”
You only stood still, gazing up at her.
Abby’s hand curled around the back of your neck, getting a whine out of you. “The fuck is your problem today? Want to be ignored instead?” She wondered, and you shook your head. “It sure seems like that, bunny.”
“Bring her over here,” Ellie beckoned, and Abby guided you over to the auburn-haired girl, forcing you down to your knees. “Wearin’ such a pretty dress today. All for us, hm?”
You looked at her, hands resting on your thighs as you nodded. “Course I did. Wanted to be pretty for you both.”
“Hmm. Roll up your dress,” Ellie said, and you froze, not moving. She inched closer to your face, tilting her head. “Something wrong, honey?”
“No, ‘course not,” you muttered, fingers fiddling with the ending hem of your babydoll dress.
“Then listen,” Abby added in, and your breath shuddered as you bunched the skirt to your waist, exposing your bare cunt. “Won’t you look at that? She thought she was gonna get something.”
“Did you think that?” Ellie asked, and you hesitantly nodded, her cruel laugh ringing in your ears. “After how you’ve been acting all day? Silly girl.”
“Where’s your rosary?” Abby wondered, and you opened up your purse, scrunching it up in your palm. “Not even a pure girl anymore, just a depraved whore for us.”
Ellie grabbed the jewelry piece, wrapping it in between her fingers as the end dangled in your face. “Abby, next to me,” she ordered, and Abby took off her leather jacket, letting it drop to the floor, stepping in the stall.
You stayed kneeled, trying to put water to the fire you sparked.
The tip of Ellie’s combat boot hit under your chin, raising your eyes to hers. “Get over to her,” she cocked her head to the side, and you rushed up and over to the blonde haired woman, who grinned at you.
Abby pushed you down onto her lap, your back pressing up against her chest as Ellie pushed open the sliding barrier, mindlessly playing with your rosary. “Why are you here today?” She began, yet Abby shoved your legs open, one hand on your throat, and the other snaked down in between your thighs.
“F—Forgive me,” you stuttered, shivering to Abby's fingers glazing over your needy cunt, “for I have sinned.”
“Go on,” Ellie agreed, and Abby slowly pushed one finger into you. “What troubles you?”
Your head fell back onto Abby’s shoulder, squeezing harder on your throat as a warning. “Fuck… I—I’ve been selfish, sir,” you continued, whining to her teasing pace. “Cruel and ruthless to those who love me.”
“And why is that?” Ellie wondered, paying no mind to you or your noises. “Do they deserve it, little lamb?”
Abby put in a second finger, the pace now running a bit higher, but made sure to not give you entire satisfaction. “Do they deserve it, bunny?” She whispered in your ear, her thumb pressing on your bud. “Tell her now.”
“No, God no,” you whimpered, placing a hand over Abby’s wrist. “I’m just… just a brat— holy fuck, fuck me.”
“Using vulgar language in front of your God, little lamb?” Ellie teased, knowing what she was getting at.
She was your God — both of them were. They were your religion, devoting every piece of you to them, would do anything to have their forgiveness and love for eternity.
“I’m sorry, God,” you moaned, Abby’s fingers pounding into you as you were beginning to fall apart at the seams, grabbing onto her wrist. “Fuck— Forgive me, God. I need your forgiveness.”
“You have to earn it,” Ellie stated, and Abby breathily chuckled, her breath fanning against your skin.
“Want to be good for your Gods?” Abby asked, and you nodded, your face falling into the crook of her neck. “Gonna do anything just for us to fuck you, huh? ‘Course you are, baby. You’re filthy— look what we’ve done to you.”
A warm sensation ran in your stomach, down to your thighs as your body jolted on her lap. “Please, God,” you pleaded, tears at your waterline. “I want you, God. I’ll never sin again.”
Ellie hummed, looking at Abby. “What do you think?” She asked. “Does the whore deserve to be forgiven?”
“Might have to work a little harder,” Abby said, and you were lost in your head, your climax burning in your abdomen. “She’s going to break another commandment.”
“No, no,” you breathed, shaking your head. “I won’t do it unless God tells me to.”
“Is that right?” Abby cooed, and her free hand combed through your hair, grabbing it. Her fingers slipped out of you, tossing you down onto your knees again with a harsh thud, a soft weep eliciting from you.
Ellie stepped out of her side of the booth, moving to yours, and you heard the rustling of her and Abby’s pants, keeping your head down. A nude Ellie brushed past you, sitting down onto Abby’s lap, both of their seeping cunts shown to your eyes.
“Please us, little lamb,” Ellie said, and you slightly moved yourself closer, your mouth latching on Abby’s cunt, hearing a soft moan leave her. You slid two fingers into Ellie’s, who cursed under her breath, and the pair looked down at you as you stared right back at them, desperation shining in your eyes.
“Doing s’good, baby,” Abby gently praised, her breath jagged, and looped around Ellie’s waist to keep her in place. “Keep fuckin’ going like that.”
Your mouth switched between the two, lapping up their juices as they made out with one another, sweetly moaning into each other’s mouth. All you could do was admire them, kneeling obediently while you drowned your mouth in their juices, needing more than just this.
Ellie put her hand on top of your head, the end of your rosary dangling in between your eyes, and she rutted her cunt against your mouth, keeping it latched. You stuffed Abby with three fingers, enough to fulfill her, roughly thrusting them into her.
The rosary continued to stay in your vision, almost like a mocking coming from Ellie and God; that once a pure angel fell into the hands of the corrupted, and became just what and who they are.
But you loved it, you loved that they curated you into this way. All you wanted to do was please them, see how sensitive they could turn out to be.
You spent the remainder of mass baptizing yourself in between their thighs, drunk on the taste of their sweet pussies.
You had spent the next day at home, making sure you had things planned out for when you moved out for Columbia. Abby and Ellie had convinced you to live in a penthouse that was about a block away from the school, and you had agreed on the fact that it was better to be with people you knew than a stranger as they knew it made you easily uncomfortable.
Your parents had left randomly for vacation, staying at their place in Milan, leaving you alone with your cat. You didn’t mind the loneliness, it was something you well adjusted to as you got older, and you only ached for attention when it came to your girls, but they had their responsibilities that you couldn’t interfere with.
You had finished packing up your box of books, setting it in the corner of your bedroom. Your attention turned to the sound of your phone going off, the soft ringtone coming through. You grabbed your phone, grinning at the contact name of “Jesse.”
“Well if it isn’t my favorite troublemaker,” you teased. “What’s up?”
Jesse James and his girlfriend, Dina Woodward, were the only people Ellie and Abby trusted you with; which said plenty because they would kill anyone who they didn’t know, and tried to talk to you. He was good, despite the fact he came from a shit father, constantly got in trouble with the law, and blew money on anything. Dina was the only one who could put him in check, and you had grown close to her over the time of knowing him.
“I fuckin’ bought a club,” Jesse started off, and you scoffed in disbelief. “Turned that shit into a burlesque. She’s a beau, you have to come out and check it out.”
“Well, I can’t right now,” you denied, and he groaned. “I’m trying to make sure I have everything together before I leave for college.”
“Cry me a river, come on!” He begged, and you breathily laughed. “You are always so attached to Ellie and Abs, make time for me.”
“Is your girlfriend with you, at least?” You wondered, and he hummed in response. You looked at the time on your clock, reading “9:03PM”, and you sighed. “I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t go anywhere.”
True to your word, you arrived at Jesse’s enriching club. You got out of the black cab, and stared at the sign that gleamed in pink neon “Carissima.”
You hummed softly to yourself, approaching the security guard at the front. “Friend of Jesse James,” you said, and he nodded, easily recognizing you. He opened up the door for you, thanking him, and moved inside, hearing the familiar melody of “I Put A Spell On You” by Nina Simone tune through the venue.
It didn’t take much to find Jesse, his arm wrapped around Dina’s shoulder as the two sat on a lounge chair in front of performers, their soft laughter knitting between the music. You walked up to the side of the furniture, their eyes averting to you.
“You made it!” Dina exclaimed, jumping up, and pulling you into a hug. “I’ve missed you. Feels like forever.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you said, separating the hug, and gave a hast squeeze to Jesse before sitting on the side of Dina. “So, what made you buy this?”
“Good investment,” Jesse said, and you awed, chuckling. “My dad doesn’t agree, but it’s beautiful. These performers… mind blowing, a fascination to everyone in this room.”
“You tell Ellie and Abby?” You wondered as Dina handed you a cigarette, lighting it up for you. “They would love this, think you are a genius.”
“I thought you would bring them. Ya’know, since you’re attached to them,” he teased, and Dina smacked his arm, glaring at him. “Bad joke, fuck! But where are they?”
“Don’t know, I haven’t talked to them all day,” you answered, puffing out a blow. “But they got their shit to worry about, don’t like being in the way.”
“You’ve been their world since you met them,” Dina said, taking the stick from you. “However, it is scary how overprotective they are.”
“What do you mean?” You asked.
Jesse laughed. “Those two have always been frightening—”
“Yeah, but their care for her is… different,” she stated, and gazed back at you. “Known them since we were kids, and I can say they would kill for you.”
“So dramatic,” you joked. “They’re the closest people I have in life. They take care of me, know what’s good for me and I don’t know— I’ve never really had that.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled, handing you back the cigarette. “I just know they’re fucking you good.”
“Okay, I’m gonna go get a drink!” You beamed, inhaling the tobacco, and got up. “You need anything?”
They shook their heads, and you hurried to the bar, continuing to burn out the cancerous stick in a spare ashtray. You smiled at the bartender as she headed over to you.
“What can I get you, love?” She asked.
“Just a cosmo, please,” you said, and she hummed, turning to the drinks. You waited patiently, fingers tapping on the gradient countertop in thought.
A shoulder softly brushed past you, but you ignored the person, until they cleared their throat. “All alone here?”
You shivered to the voice of a man.
“With some friends,” you dryly answered, eyes focused on the bartender who had her back turned from you.
“That’s a shame. Woulda invite you to hang with me,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “You always still can.”
“No thank you,” you denied, shaking your head, and prayed for your drink to come quicker, only for the bartender to head into the stock room for a moment.
Oh, you felt sick.
From the corner of your eye, you could see Dina and Jesse lost in their conversation, completely oblivious to you.
Your phone was in your purse, and you were scared to even fiddle with it.
“I don’t bite, honey,” he assured, and your heart leaped into your throat as his hand touched your bicep. “Come on. A pretty thing like you should be having fun.”
“Please let go of me,” you said, yet harsh enough to come off stern. “I don’t like your hand on me, so get the fuck off.”
“Now don’t be a bitch,” he spat.
You finally looked at him, your body wanting to collapse on you. He was taller than you, about six foot three or so. Broad and muscular, completely fit. His eyes were dark, had a goatee on his face.
You thought about throwing up all over him just to get this over with.
You hoped people sitting around would notice, yet no one did, caught up in their own worlds. You yanked your arm back, and scoffed. “You don’t got the right to touch me, you fuck.”
“I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” he threatened. “You come here in that little black dress, and expect nobody to fuck you?”
The bartender came back, and was the only one to notice this unsettling tension. “Hey, honey!” She called out, putting your order on the countertop. “Had to head into the back to grab more cranberry juice, I’m sorry.”
She kept her eyes locked on the man, a pair of scissors in her hand. “Can you hold onto my order for a second? I need to use the ladies room,” you said, and she nodded, making sure to keep the man secure in her radius.
You hurried into the bathroom, your shaky hands taking out your phone. Teardrops collected on the screen as you hit Abby’s contact, the first name on your recent call list.
It took only two rings until she answered. “Bunny?”
“Abby… abby,” you breathily whispered, sniffling. “Is Ellie with you?”
“Yeah, baby. We just got done with some things,” she said, and you sighed in relief. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m… I’m at this club, Jesse’s club,” you began, sucking in a sharp breath. “And went to the bar to get a drink… this man came up to me, wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“What?” Abby’s tone sharpened. “Did he hurt you? Where the fuck is Jesse? Or Dina?”
“He just grabbed my arm. Jesse and Dina were just busy with each other, I was too far away for them to notice anything,” you stated clearly, wiping away your hot tears. “I don’t know if he’s still in here, but the bartender is keeping a close eye on him, and I’m hiding in the bathroom.”
“Stay in the bathroom, we’re coming right now,” she assured, and you hung up the call, sitting yourself on the porcelain seat, trying to compile all your thoughts and emotions.
As Abby brought the phone down to her lap, Ellie glanced at her. “What happened?”
“Someone fuckin’ weirdo touched her,” Abby exsperated, and static rang in Ellie’s ears, scoffing in disbelief. “Jesse opened up his own club, she was there, and went alone to get a drink.”
Ellie texted Jesse for the address, and Abby searched around the backseat compartment. “I don’t know if the gun is still in here,” Ellie said, and the blonde groaned in frustration. “We can’t go in there with one.”
“The one time you don’t bring your weapon,” Abby sighed.
“Got the address,” Ellie mumbled, opening up her phone. “Charles! Hit 7th avenue.”
“The fuck are we gonna do with this dude?” Abby asked, and Ellie grinned. “Talk to me, baby.”
“We fuckin’ kill him,” Ellie stated.
You passed time by playing games on your phone, the stress of it being enough to forget the short horror experience you just encountered. The shout of your name in the bathroom caught your attention, killing your high score in the process.
“Baby, where are you?” Ellie called out, and you rushed out of the stall, getting her attention. “Oh, there’s my girl.”
She hastily brought you into her arms, letting you cry into her shoulder as she held you, cupping the back of your head. “My brave girl, hm? So proud of you,” she praised, kissing your temple. “Abby and I are gonna take care of everything.”
You nodded, bringing your head back, and she smiled softly at you. “Do you have any party favors?” You wondered, and she sighed, shaking her head. “Please, just wanna wash off tonight.”
“Honey, you are not taking coke,” she said, and you frowned. “I know you are upset, but your body isn’t used to it, and you wouldn’t like it.”
“Yes I do! Remember when I did it off your ass on our ski trip in Aspen?” You recalled, and she kept denying you. “Please! Just this once. I’ll have Dina make sure I don’t do more than three lines.”
“Dina couldn’t even keep an eye on you right now!” She shouted, and you flinched, body tensing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just— You need to be careful.”
“Just three lines,” you repeated.
Ellie reached into her trouser’s pockets, fiddling with the bag, and handed it to you. “Go have fun, baby,” she said, and you kissed her cheek, thanking her before sprinting back out to Jesse and Dina.
The couple bounced up from their seats at your appearance, clear worry plastered on their faces. “Fuck, we’re so sorry,” Dina said, gently grabbing your wrists. “We were so caught up—“
“It’s fine,” you smiled, sitting down on the lounge seat, and popped open the bag of cocaine.
“Fuck, you’re doing lines? Haven’t seen you do that shit since the Debutante Ball,” she said, and you poured some of the white powder onto the table in front of you.
“Ellie and Abby don’t know about that,” you told her, and her eyes widened, looking at her boyfriend who only shrugged at her. “They would kill me if they knew the amount of drugs I’ve done behind their back.”
“You’ve only done cocaine, no?” Jesse questioned, and you only glanced at him over your shoulder, giggling. You took a random card out of your wallet, dividing the powder into neat lines, a dumb smile on your face.
“Jesse, can you go get my cosmo, please?” You asked, sweetness laced in your tone. “I deserve some of that with this shit.” He sighed, nodding, and getting up from his spot.
There were seven lines made, and you wiped off the collected powder from the edge of the card, sniffing it up your left nostril. You exhaled sharply, snickering, and traded the card in for a dollar bill. “You want some of this?” You offered, turning around to look at Dina, and she denied the offer, eyes focused on you.
You hummed, tightly rolling up the bill. “More for me, then.” You brought the paper up to your nose, aligning it with the first line, and took a heavy inhale, a strong burn hitting your nose. You sniffled, bringing your head up and leaned it back, shakily laughing.
“Easy there, babe,” Dina put a hand on your back, rubbing it. Jesse came back on time with your drink, handing it to you, and noticed the dollar bill next to the second line.
“Already started?” He teased, and you took a sip of the cocktail, eyeing to the drug. “I’m all good, treat yourself with that stuff.”
With you doing lines and being utterly distracted inside of the club, Abby and Ellie were on the top floor of the building, inside a storage room with a beaten man on the ground.
Abby took another kick to his gut, Ellie sitting in a chair with a cigarette in her mouth. “You like touchin’ females you don’t know!” Abby yelled, and he sobbed, restrained by cable ties, his right eyes kicked in. “Fuckin’ touching her like that, you aren’t getting away with this shit.”
Ellie took the gun out from the back of her trousers, lucky enough to find the weapon in the glove compartment by the driver. She flashed the object to the man’s eyes, a vile grin playing on her lips as she stared at him.
She got up, and stalked towards his limp body, standing by Abby’s side. “What’s your name, man?” Ellie asked, with her partner taking a hast note to her facade. “Got any kids or anything?”
“My name is Brandon,” he breathed, and Ellie nodded, squatting down to match eye level with him, letting the gun dangle in her hands. “Shit, dude, listen— I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think she was taken.”
“What makes you say that?” Abby questioned.
“A girl like that… wants attention,” he said, and the girls looked at one another before glancing back over to Brandon. “Can even tell she’s got lingerie under that shit. She’s a fuckin’ tease, a whore.”
Ellie hummed, reloading the glock in her hand, and chuckled. “I think I’m done with my cigarette now,” she mumbled, jokingly frowning as she played with the stick in between her fingers. “Too bad I don’t have an ashtray on me.”
Abby took out a switchblade, exchanging it for the gun. “Tell me when you need me to do it,” she said, and the auburn haired girl seized the man’s jaw, squeezing open his mouth as a wave of protests elicited from his throat.
Ellie pushed the bud to his tongue, and cruelly laughed at the garging scream that came out of him. “Keep fuckin’ talking shit!” She shouted, flicking open her switchblade, and held it to his throat. “Swallow that cigarette, wanna see if you still want to run your mouth!”
“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Abby chimed in, taking off her leather jacket. “You’re lucky we don’t kill you right now.”
Ellie put her hand over the man’s mouth, refusing to let him spit out her cigarette, only giving him the option to swallow it for good. She smiled, pleased with the simple act, and took her hand back. “Got anymore shit to say?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side.
Brandon sniffled, jagged sobs intertwined with his heavy breathing. “You’re both fucking insane,” he began, trying to gather oxygen into him. “She’s going to leave you. You’re going to drive her away with this shit.”
“We’d like to see her try,” Abby said, and Ellie stood up, putting herself aside to let her do as she pleased. She sat back down, opening up her phone to text Jesse.
E: How is she?
J: Two Cosmos in. Had seven lines. Get down here soon.
E: Don’t let her strip her clothes off. We don’t need a sequel to Barcelona.
J: Me and Dina can’t handle her, only you can. She won’t shut the fuck up about you.
E: Don’t let us down again. P.S., may need a mop in here soon.
She tucked her phone away, and admired Abby damaging the man. She was ruthless, yet composing herself enough not to kill him — just yet. His face had molded into a pulp, unrecognizable to anyone as his blood painted on Abby’s hands, his weak pleas being ignored by the pair.
Abby and Ellie got high off of this, hurting or killing anyone who made you uncomfortable. They had been getting away with it for so long, and you had been gullible to it, never blinking an eye to their unknown actions.
They would do this over and over again, even if something was your fault within it, they dealt with you in their own way — but no one was ever to lay a hand on you, and you knew that too.
Abby snagged his wallet out of his pocket, opening it up. “Brandon James,” she announced, pulling out his cash, and putting it in her pockets. “Gonna use this to buy her something pretty and nice.”
“Where does he live?” Ellie asked.
“Won’t you look at that!” Abby said, pressing her boot to his face. “He’s a rich brat. Lives in that building next to yours, Els.”
Ellie chuckled. “Money probably got him out of his shit. Isn’t that right, Brandon James?”
“Please,” is all he could manage to say, dizzy and lightheaded.
Ellie returned over to him, and stood over him before lowering herself. “This may hurt,” she said, signaling for Abby’s help, who obliged by opening the man’s mouth. Ellie grinned, tugging at the tip of his tongue, and began to sever it with her switchblade.
He screamed, thrashing around, but was overpowered by the two women, entirely useless to their strength. “This isn’t even the worst part,” Ellie muttered, grunting as she went on to cut off his tongue. “You made her cry, ya’know? Poor baby was so scared, and didn't know what to do.”
His tongue ripped out, being put to the side of his head. She got up, staring at the blood of her hand, and could only curl her hand into a tight fist.
He fuckin’ frightened her, she thought to herself. He deserves to die.
He was already facing death in a horrid, slow manner, and the last thing he would see was these two, towering over him; utterly indulged by his death, and letting it fuel their ego.
“Kill him. Jesse wants us back,” Ellie ordered, and Abby aimed the gun at his face, her finger carelessly pressing down on the trigger. His face blew, and they both hummed, taking in the view. “Good job. Already called the crew to come get him.”
Stuck yet hast of cleaning themselves up, alcohol and drugs overrode your brain, consuming you. You were sitting on the edge of the couch, staring at the dancers on the stage who moved with elegance, and passion. Each one of them were beautiful, confident in their own way that made your heart beat.
“Wish I was as good as them,” you said, sipping on Jesse’s cup of scotch. “I can fuckin’ dance, but not like that.”
“They’re giving a simple show,” Dina noted, and you blew a raspberry, glaring at her.
“They’re doing much more than that,” you retorted, and inhaled one last bump, coughing. “I… I want to go up there.”
“You’re not,” Jesse denied, and you pouted. “Ellie and Abby would murder you, and then me. We don’t want Barcelona to happen.”
“Oh my gosh! That trip was so fun!” You recalled, warmly smiling at the memory. “Wait, what happened?”
“You drank too much, got lost in the crowd dancing with too many people,” Dina said, and you zoned out, attempting to have any recollection. “Then, you bought everyone shots, danced on top of the bar, and flashed your ass to them.”
“Okay, that’s not bad,” you giggled, shrugging. “I’m going up there!”
“Do you have a death wish?” Dina wondered, and grabbed your wrist, preventing you from standing up. “Your girlfriends are going to kill you if you do some sort of strip tease up there.”
“They’ll get over it,” you said, freeing your wrist from her hold. “They’re not here, anyways, and they won’t do shit about it.”
Jesse and Dina sighed, giving up all attempts and let you run off onto the stage. The burlesque dancers beamed at your presence, letting you stand in the middle as you were too mind numbed to understand what you were doing, just knowing you wanted to have fun.
The song and crowd were an echo, intoxication burning into your body, controlling each thing you did. You sheepishly grinned, your hand reaching to the side of your dress, and pulled down the zipper.
“No, no!” Dina shouted, and Jesse mumbled multiple curse words, sipping down the last of his drink. “Oh, we are so dead.”
Abby and Ellie appeared right next to them, at the exact time you were shimming off your dress, and were exposed in your garter belt, stockings, and undergarments. “What the fuck did we say!” Abby shouted, and the couple sighed, watching in horror with the two girls while you were oblivious to them.
People in the club cheered for you, a few getting their wallets out. You laughed, your vision a blur as you showed off your body, letting your hands run all over your body.
Your girlfriends watched attentively, millions of thoughts piling on top of each other, thinking of how to get off the stage, and back home. They weren’t going to punish you while you were clearly out of your mind, but that gave them enough time to think of how to handle you.
They just fucking murdered someone for you, and your flashing your body to strangers. You were more than ungrateful at this moment.
The dancers on stage encouraged you to do what you wanted, cheering you though they knew you were not intact with reality. “Should I take off my bra?” You questioned, and the people in front yelled in agreement, earning a small laugh out of you. “Yeah? Flash my tits for New York?”
“What the fuck is she saying?” Jesse asked. “Go get your girl before she turns this into a riot house.”
Abby and Ellie both rushed to you, having to fight through a crowd just to reach the steps to the stage. Your hands fidgeted with the hooks of your bra, and before you could strip it off, they got to you on time. “Oh, it’s my girls!” You slurred, hiccuping as you laughed, and blushed in shame. “How long have you been here?”
Ellie took off her blazer, tossing it over you as Abby picked up your dress from the ground. The crowd booed and groaned at your escort as you only waved at them, blowing a kiss. “Bye Dina and Jess! Love you both so much!” You yelled, and squealed from being abruptly thrown over Abby’s shoulder. “Ow, my stomach!”
The limo was parked outside, and the chauffeur opened up the door, Abby throwing you onto the seat but made sure you didn’t bump your head. Ellie climbed in right behind her, the door shutting.
“Hiii,” you slurred, continuing to giggle. “You like my outfit?”
“Who gave you coke?” Abby asked.
“Els!” You said.
“Ellie, we talked about this!” Abby protested, and the auburn shrugged. “She can’t do that shit unattended.”
“I’ve done it so many times without you both,” you confessed, and their eyes snapped at you. “You made me this way — fucking corrupted, and shit. I am your blessing and nightmare.”
“You’re drunk,” Ellie sighed. “You need to rest when we get home.”
“Why, daddy?” You asked, and Ellie reddened at the nickname. “I know you both want to hurt me. I was bad tonight, disrespecting you both. How silly of me.”
“Fuckin’ watch it, bunny,” Abby spat, and you laughed. “I mean it.”
“Whatever. You’re idiots,” you mumbled, and Ellie had thinner patience than Abby did — meaning one more insult would cause her to take you in the car. She tossed your dress at you, eyes boring into you. “You could just hand it next time.”
“You are one more backtalk from getting it,” Ellie warned, and your smile slowly faded. “Anything else you need to confess before we deal with you in the dawn?”
“Oh, I can’t have a life of my own!” You realized, carelessly putting back on your outfit.. “Can’t take drugs without your eyes following me. Can’t even hang out with someone without a bodyguard being there! So fucking annoying!”
“If it’s so annoying, why stay?” Abby asked.
You went silent, looking away from the both of them, and finished throwing on your dress, slouching in your seat. “Only ones who take care of me,” you murmured, so soft and quiet, pouting too. “Make me feel special.”
“Yeah, and we’re the only ones who will put up with you this way,” Ellie added, and you nodded, tears welting in your eyes. “Who else is gonna do that? Tell us.”
You shook your head. “No one… no one,” you mumbled, chewing on your lower lip. “Can… Can I sit on your lap? Please?”
Ellie heavily sighed before giving in, beckoning you. You practically hopped into her lap as you wrapped your arms around her neck, nuzzling your face into her chest.
You fell asleep on the ride back to the shared penthouse.
Sunlight crept into your eyes, taking you out of your gentle slumber. You groaned, stuffing your face into the pillow, and felt warmth on both sides of you. Your eyes slowly parted, finding Ellie’s tattooed arm dangling over your chest, Abby’s looped around your waist.
You were trapped in between them, no way out. Your head pounded, your nose stuffy, and dying in sickness. You stayed still, trying to resurface last night's events, yet only blur spots flickered in your head. You whimpered, loud to drag Abby out of her slumber, her eyes adjusting to the sight of you.
“Hey, bunny,” she whispered. “You okay?”
“Did I drink last night?” You asked, and she weakly chuckled, nodding.
“And you did cocaine,” she muttered, and she brought her hand up, resting it on the side of your face. “You are in trouble.”
You panicked. “Whatever I did—”
“Baby, you are okay,” she assured, thumb caressing your cheek. “But you said some rude things. All we plan to do is spanking, that’s about it.”
“I’m sorry,” you frowned, and she kissed the side of your head. “Hope that’s the only stupid thing I did.”
“And you stripped and performed at a burlesque club,” she shared, and your eyes widened, whining in embarrassment. “Ellie nearly ripped your head off in the car.”
You looked over at Ellie, and grinned. “I’ll make it up to you both,” you promised, pressing a kiss to her lips, and she smiled, nodding. “I’m going to clean myself up, I feel a bit nauseous.”
“We had your things moved and unpacked yesterday,” Abby said, and you sat up, stretching out your arms.
“You broke into my house late at night, and got everything settled that quick?” You laughed. “I’m still a month away from attending school, and you’re already locking me down.”
“Better to get it done now,” she acknowledged, and you got up from the bed, padding over to the bedroom’s bathroom, closing the door behind you.
It took you only about thirty minutes to clean up, unimpressed by how worn out you looked. Your lipstick smeared, eyeliner and mascara cluttered around your eyes, your breath reeking of alcohol.
The shower was enough to relax your body, yet still felt sick, considering you needed a meal. You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, and stepped in front of the sink.
You found an unopened toothbrush waiting for you, and you grinned, opening it up. You turned on the faucet, and laid down a portion of toothpaste on your toothbrush, running it under the water shortly after.
You brought the object into your mouth, and used your free arm to pick up your pajamas. You walked over to the walk in closet, and looked around for the hamper, only to find it shoved into the corner.
Peeking over the basket, you noticed a white shirt stained with some red on it. It grabbed your attention, looking too crimson to be considered red wine, or anything else.
You just shrugged it off, putting your clothes over it, and went back to brushing your teeth. “Hey Abs,” you called from the bathroom. “What kind of shit did you get into last night?”
“What do you mean?” She shouted back, the loud conversation awakening Ellie.
“One of your shirts is stained,” you said, and Abby inhaled sharply, Ellie shooting up to look at her girlfriend. “Did I fall and eat shit, and get blood over one of you?”
“Honey, you did,” Ellie lied, voice groggy and hoarse. “I had to carry you inside, you had blood coming out your nose.”
“But I have no bruises or anything?” You realized, spitting out the paste, and cleaned up your toothbrush and mouth. You changed into shorts and tee before walking back into the bedroom. “Did you guys get into a fight last night?”
They went silent, and you got into the middle of them on the bed, going back and forth looking at them.
“You had an incident last night,” Ellie said, and your brows furrowed. “A man was being a fuckin’ dick, you called Abby, and we handled it.”
“Oh what, you fucking killed him?” You joked, and they laughed dryly with you, but enough to make it believable. “If you beat him, you just have to say that.”
“We handled it,” Ellie repeated, and moved herself closer to you, putting her hand on your cheek. “Now we need to handle you.”
You rolled your eyes, bitterly scoffing.
“Fuckin’ roll them again,” she dared, and Abby laid back against the headboard, letting everything unravel. “Always going to be a brat? Even when we’re so good to you?”
Your face softened into a doe expression, tilting your head to the side. “Doesn’t that make you want to fuck me?”
“We won’t even touch you if that’s what you're trying to accomplish here,” she taunted, and her hand snaked up to the side of your head, tightly gripping your hair. “When are you going to learn, little lamb? Is what we do for you not enough?”
“It is,” you whimpered.
“Yeah? Then why do you keep acting like it isn’t?” She asked, and eyed over to Abby. “What should we do with her?”
“Break her,” Abby said, getting up from her spot. Ellie grinned, turning her head back towards you, and your cheek was met with a harsh slap. You gasped, and her hand slid down to the back of your neck, pushing your body onto the bed.
“Fuckin’ strip,” Ellie spat, and you whimpered, but obliged. You fiddled with the ending hem of your shirt, taking it off, and your fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties and pajama shorts. “Need you on all fours.”
You huffed under your breath, glad that she couldn’t see you roll your eyes again. Your clothes piled down onto the ground, letting your knees sink into the mattress, your chest laying flat as your ass was lifted to her eyes for display.
“Baby, you’re fucking soaking,” Ellie cooed with Abby returning on time, able to hear the clicking of objects. “Let’s hold off on gagging her until she wants to say some shit.”
Abby moved to your eye level, grinning. “You want to keep being a desperate whore?”
“I’ll get my satisfaction either way,” you assured, and she inhaled sharply, eyes snapping into Ellie’s. The auburn handed her an item, noticing the pink ball. “Wait, wait!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Abby seethed, maneuvering your face and brought it up, fastening up the ball gag. “You’ve really fuckin’ done it this time, bunny. And Ellie is going to handle you, not me.”
You swallowed thickly, your doe eyes shining with pleas but the blonde dismissed you, tossing your face back onto the bed.
Both girls had stripped themselves bare, Ellie positioned behind you as Abby sat in front of you, her cunt for you to gawk at, but forbidden to please.
In a sharp breath, you felt thick silicone push into you, causing your cunt to stretch. You cried, yet it was mumbled, and Abby laughed at you. “Gonna deny you everything, honey,” Ellie muttered, her hands grasping onto your cheeks for support as she carelessly thrusted into you, breaking into you. “Need to make you cry, need to know you’re fucking place with us.”
“We could easily get rid of you,” Abby continued on, and your brows knitted together, shaking your head. “Could’ve fucking disposed you months ago, but no. Here we are, still putting up with your bratty ass.”
You cursed and moaned breathlessly, the pain turning into a bliss as Ellie’s strap pounded into you. “Wouldn’t want that, huh?” She asked, and you cried in response. “Course not, honey. No one fuckin’ loves you like we do.”
You stared at Abby with teary eyes, your hand aching to touch her, only for the blonde to slap it away. “No, take what you are getting right now,” she warned, and you nodded, your hips rolling and swaying with the rhythm of Ellie’s thrusts. “Won’t ya look at that? Little bunny just can’t get enough.”
Your hands grasped onto the messy bed sheets, nails digging into them. You stuffed your face into the material, lewd noises eliciting from you through the ball gag, almost feeling as if your body was jolted with electricity the moment Ellie’s strap found your orgasmic area.
“She’s enjoying this too much,” Abby pointed out, and Ellie hummed, all movement being halted. You groaned in protest, and she switched around your body, laying you flat on your back. She straddled herself on top of you, intimidating you with how she towered over you.
She popped the gag out of your mouth, your lungs engulfing fresh air. “Oh, little lamb,” she softly whispered, and smacked your face again, seizing it afterwards. “You got me upset, you know that? Treating me like shit.”
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, the strike burning your cheek before she placed another one. “Fuck!”
“You’re sorry?” She repeated, almost as if she didn’t trust you. “For which part, honey?”
“Just… just wanted to get a rise,” you admitted, breathing heavily. “Couldn’t ask for it.”
“Look where that landed you,” she said, and hit you once more, your head spinning. “You going to apologize to Abby, hm?” She climbed off of you, her hands guiding you around to face the blonde. “Say sorry, baby.”
You were a crying mess, and weren’t even at the worst part yet. Though you were scared, you were aroused; maybe you were as depraved as they were. You enjoyed the sadistic acts they brought onto you, wanting to be all theirs to use, and play with.
You were their girl at the end of the day, nothing could change that.
“I’m sorry, mama,” you mumbled, and Abby hummed, careless to your apology. “Please, mama. Didn’t mean it, I’ll be better.”
“You need to start acting right,” she said, and you nodded, mumbling promises through your sobs. “You aren’t able to leave us, you know that, right?”
“I won’t,” you reassured, sniffling. You knew that’s what many people wanted, that they knew you couldn't be without these two girls, simply as if they were your life support.
Everyone knew it.
“Where’s your blade?” Abby asked, and Ellie gestured to the night stand. She opened up the drawer, taking out her prized switchblade, something she always carried with her, but you didn’t know why. “Got to mark our girl.”
Ellie grabbed her knife, flicking it open, and she settled herself in between your thighs. She was grinning to herself, yet so was Abby, the two only knowing what they had done the previous night with the weapon, and you were clueless to it all.
“Need you to be a big girl for me,” Ellie stated, and you sucked in a sharp breath, the tip of the switchblade pointing into your right inner thigh, beginning to carve into your skin. “Right there, baby. Doing s’good for us, focus on mama.”
Abby scooted closer to you, putting your head on her lap. “Don’t cry, bunny. It’s gonna be over soon.”
Ellie branded her initial firstly into your right thigh before moving onto your left inner thigh, starting to cut Abby’s into it. You were trying your best to compose your body, squirming and softly sobbing to your skin being pierced.
“Mama, it hurts,” you pouted, and she caressed your cheek, looking down at you. “I know I’m your girl.”
“Just so you remember,” Abby reminded, groping your breasts. “Sometimes you forget, baby. We can’t keep repeating ourselves.”
You only nodded, melting into her gentle touch. Ellie threw her knife on top of the pile of clothes, smirking at initials. “Ah, now we can give you what you want,” she said, and you sighed in relief, a smile playing on your lips.
Dots of blood appeared on the wounds as the girls got up from the bed, opening the bottom drawer of the night stand. You stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the burn that scorned, and a large hand pressed onto the side of your body, shifting you around.
“Come on, baby,” Abby whispered, positioning you on your knees that sunk into the bed, and could feel her bare chest brush on your back. “Need you to spread yourself for us, you can do it.”
“You’re our girl,” Ellie promised, kneeling in front of you, and cradled your face into her warm hands. “Don’t know what we would do if you tried to leave us.”
Abby wetted her fingers, spitting down on your tight hole as she pushed two fingers into it to start you off. You roughly gasped, your body nearly faltering. “Stay steady, princess,” she said, moving her fingers at an easy pace. “Gotta prepare you for my cock, I need to make sure you can take it nice and sweet.”
Your face stayed in Ellie’s hands, trying to keep you focused on her. “Make sure to keep yourself spread for mama,” she told you, and you nodded, your shaky hands clawed down on your ass as you kept it spread open for Abby. “You can take it, you always do. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?”
“Yes daddy,” you muttered, and Abby’s fingers popped out of you. She put her hand back on your shoulder, guiding you back in the same moment she let her strap harshly sink into your whole. You cursed under your breath, tears welting in your eyes, and Ellie cooed, keeping your face in place.
Abby didn’t move further, letting your hole take in all of her, and nodded at Ellie. She dropped her hands, hooking your arms around her neck as she filled your hot cunt with her strap, and your body shuddered, your face collapsing down onto her chest. “No no, baby,” she said, shaking her head. “You gotta show us how much you want us. Fuck yourself on our cocks.”
“Too stuffed,” you mumbled, and Abby’s hand reached for the front of your neck, tugging your head back.
“Show us how needy you are, pathetic bitch,” Abby spat, and you whimpered, but compiled, gently bouncing yourself on both silicone objects. “Yeah, that’s it, bunny. Fuckin’ take everything we give you.”
Ellie’s was captivated by the way your cunt swallowed her strap, dripping and soaking it already. “This is all you wanted, right?” She taunted, breathlessly chuckling. “Just wanted us to make you cock drunk, for us to treat you like the dumb whore you are.”
“Y—Yes, yes!” You choked out, rolling your hips as your body began to endure the scorching pleasure. “Oh my god, feels s’fucking good, please.”
“You’re barely fuckin’ two minutes in on fucking yourself,” Abby laughed, bringing your head back and laid down on her shoulder, forcing you to look up at her, “And you’re already falling apart. Can even hear how wet your pussy is.”
“Want to be fucked, please,” you breathed, on a brink of sobs. “Can’t do it on my own.”
“You have to earn it, love,” she stated, and grinned. “Show us how bad you need us, want us to fuck your pretty holes.”
You pouted, and she shoved your head back forward, a spin of dizziness whirling in your brain. Ellie sadistically smirked in front of you, her hands laid on your thighs, and tilted her to the side. “Looks you’re about to cry, little lamb,” she teased, and you kept heavy eye contact as your holes stretched further with every desperate bounce. “Got nothing to cry about, honey. You brought this on yourself, you know that.”
“S—said sorry, daddy. I’m sorry,” your breath shook, sobs threatening to spill from you. You were overfilled with needs, feeling as if you were in heat, and only they could put the fire out. You could fuck yourself good, but they could make you feel orgasmic tides crash into your soul, and take you in one.
“Only saying sorry ‘cause you’re not getting what you want,” Ellie said, and you were quick to deny it. “Don’t fuckin’ lie, you know how much we hate that.”
“Please, please,” you begged. “I’ll be so good, won’t be a brat ever again.”
“Fucking lying again,” Ellie scoffed, and Abby grinned, smacking your ass. “Don’t worry baby, we like when you are; means we get to see you cry and break.”
You were stuck in the middle of these two, falling apart on their cocks as they observed you, waiting for you to break down into sobs. This was their whole pride, everything they fucking thrived off of, and if it made them the happiest they’ve ever been, you would them hurt you over and over again.
Your bouncing turned rapid, breasts in sync, and porngraphic noises drawing out of you. Your sensitive spots were being hit at, your eyes rolling back, and could feel heat pooling in your abdomen. Your hands reached out for one of them, but they denied you of it, leading you to fall into pits of sobs.
“There it is,” Abby growled. “Just what we wanted.”
“Can’t do it,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “Please, need mama. Need your help, please.”
“Yeah, bunny? Need us to take over?” She asked, mockery tangled in her tone. “Can’t use that silly brain of yours, huh? Our poor baby that’s useless.”
Her words mixed in with the fire that bubbled inside of you, expanding into your thighs. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you babbled, choking on your tears. “Need it s’bad, please. Just fuck me.”
Ellie halted your movements, and kissed your cheek. “We got you, honey. Let us do whatever we want, okay? We need to fill your holes, want to see it leak out of you.”
The duo situated themselves before handling you to stretch your form better, your knees locking place to keep you up. Abby braced her hands on your waist before her strap brutally thrusted into you, Ellie following the same tempo shortly after.
You could feel yourself being split open, Abby’s hands residing on your hips as Ellie’s let hers rest on the sides of your breasts. Their noises were shaky, rough, and undeniably lewd, a string of curses muttering out of them.
They would always be hypnotized by you, your body, and how fucking well you always took them. They would fuck you hours on end, and they have before, but they couldn’t get enough it. It was a fucking drug, worse than any they’ve taken. Everything about you was addicting and pure perfection to their eyes, knowing that they would be the only ones who could see you crumble under them like this, let them take control of you, and tear you apart.
They wanted to fucking spend the rest of their life in your pussy, fucking destroying it, and letting it cry with you.
Raw lust was a firestorm on your skin, sinking into your body, and coursing through you. Your climax was overrode, about to collapse on you, and take you entirely, just needing to be free. Your legs trembled, slowly weakening, and a muscular arm snaked around your waist to lock you in.
“Our pretty girl needs to cum,” she acknowledged, and Ellie’s fingers furiously hooked around your throat, squeezing it. “What do you think, babe? We let her cum?”
“Don’t know if she deserves it,” Ellie said, and your sobs were uncontrollable; your body was breaking, haze clouded in your head, and your high was unbearable over the limit. “You want to cum, little lamb? ‘M having too much fun seeing you like this.”
“Wanna cum, need to cum,” you blubbered, breath hallowed, and could feel them so far into you, you could almost swear they were poking at your stomach. “I’ll be so good forever. ‘M your girl, only yours; won’t ever be ungrateful again.”
Ellie grinned. “You mean that, honey?”
You mindlessly nodded, agreeing anything just so you could cum — it was fucking torturous.
“Cum for us, sweetheart,” Abby said, and you exhaled in relief, your body relaxing to her permission. Like a violent hit, your high crashed out of you causing your body to jump and shudder. Abby kept her arm around you, the pair not being done with you until they came.
You could hear the sploshing of your juices as Ellie viciously rammed into you, Abby’s cock abusing your tight hole with absolutely no remorse. You were there, letting yourself be their garbage waste, waiting for them to fill you up.
“Imagine if we could fuckin’ put a baby in her,” Abby laughed, her moans knitted into it. “Make her our bitch forever, wouldn’t be able to leave us then.”
“That what you want, angel? For us to make you a pretty mommy?” Ellie asked, and you blankly agreed, braindead and numb. “Keep you trapped forever, nowhere to fuckin’ go.”
Abby and Ellie always considered that; having a family with you, though they never practically discussed it with you, or if that’s what you wanted. They truly wanted you in their life forever, needed you in every way that would kill them if they couldn’t have it. And if you did try to exit out of their lives, they would find a solution to reel you back in.
“Mama gonna fill your hole, ‘kay?” Abby warned, and you hummed, falling in and out of reality. Ellie left her on your throat as extra leverage as she continued to hammer herself into you, her own climax trailing behind the blonde’s.
A symphony of vulgar, raw noises echoed throughout the bedroom, and your second peak surfaced in the depths of your belly, your body frail and trembling.
“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” Ellie cried out, her nails clawing into your skin, and Abby’s hands crept down to your cheeks, clawing into them. Your skin was running hot and wild, their body heat radiating onto you as the room smelt of filth and sweat, shameless moans and whimpers wailing out of all three of you.
Your cunt and hole were stuffed with cum from their straps with Abby and Ellie’s climax dripped out of their sweet pussies. They pushed themselves out of you, and you fell back on the bed, gathering lungfuls of breaths.
“Won’t you look at that?” Abby said, her and Ellie mesmerized by their cum leaking out of your holes, their initials branded into your thighs. “So fuckin’ pretty, all for us to look at.”
“Head… hurts,” is all you could manage to say, curling up into a ball.
The girls took off their object, dropping it to the floor as they separated to obtain things for you. Abby went to the kitchen, grabbing cold water, painkillers, and a box of cherries for you; Ellie was in the bathroom, wetting a rag, and seized the first aid kit.
They rushed to your side in under a minute, worried that they might have finally done it this time.
“Baby, you with us?” Ellie panicked, and you nodded, sleep wanting to take you. “Can you sit up for us, please?”
“Can’t,” you whimpered, and Abby sighed, helping to pick you up. She kissed the side of your head, holding you sit up while Ellie aided you.
“You did so good for us, sweetheart,” Ellie cooed, running the cloth over your aching cunt and hole as you hissed in response. “I know, I know. Just need to make sure we clean you up well, okay?”
Abby brought up the glass of water to lips, stroking the side of your head while you took slow sips. “There we go, there’s our tough girl,” she whispered, and opened up the bottle of painkillers, inserting two pills in your mouth, returning the glass back to your mouth afterwards. “We’re so proud of you. You’re okay, bunny, we’re almost done.”
Ellie soothed your wounds with hydrogen peroxide, putting bandaids over it after. She put a chaste kiss to your hip, and you smiled small, thanking her. “You want to get some rest?” She asked, and you nodded. “Okay, honey, let us change the sheets while you eat some food, yeah?”
Abby carried to the loveseat sofa that sat in the corner of the bedroom, handing you the box of cherries as she helped out Ellie. The two weren’t even cleaned up, but made sure you were comfortable and okay before they were.
You wanted to cry.
They’re so fucking perfect, you said in your head.
You had eaten about five cherries by the time they fixed up the mattress, and put new sheets on top of it. You set the food next to you, and Abby returned to you, scooping you into her arms as you grasped onto her, sitting you on the edge of the bed.
Ellie picked out a new set of pajamas for you, changing you into new underwear, and a soft, pink nightgown. “Get some rest, and we’re gonna get ourselves fixed, ‘kay?” She said, guiding you under the duvet covers, and made sure you were tucked in. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”
You hummed, your eyes drooping, and let rest take over you. You felt them press a loving kiss to your forehead before you passed out.
You could hear your ringtone tune, lulling you out of your slumber. You let it go through as it shut up a few seconds later, and you groaned, trying to fall back asleep.
Then, the ringtone came back, and the buzzing added onto it. Your hand reached for your phone, finding it laying next to you. You grabbed it, squinting to who was calling.
Joel Miller, the contact name flashed.
Why the fuck was Joel calling?
You noticed the time, seeing it to be 4PM — how fucking long were you asleep for?
You swiped the button right, bringing the device up to your ear. “Hello?” You mumbled, clearly exhausted and groggy.
“Hey, kid. I was wonderin’ if Ellie was with you?” He asked, trying to sound calm, but wasn’t. You instantly sat up, finding a note on the nightstand, and you picked it up.
Abby and I went out to get some things. Be back as soon as we can. Love you always, sweet girl.
Xo, Ellie.
“Um, no,” you answered, putting the note down. “Why? Did something happen?”
There was silence for a moment. “The cops are here, asking for her.”
“Cops. Why?” You asked, fear streaming through your whole body.
“They’re accusing her of murder,” Joel said, and you swallowed thickly. “Someone reported their friend missing — a Brandon James — saying how they saw him leave with Ellie, and Abby.”
Memories now began to flick in your brain, like bright lights, and bile burned at your throat.
The shirt. The red on the shirt.
Blood.
“We handled it,” you recalled Ellie saying.
“We handled it” was code for “we killed someone.”
You remembered the Brandon guy harassing you, grabbing your arm, and it sent you into full panic mode. You remember calling Abby about it, and Ellie giving you coke to distract you for the meantime. You remembered them not being with you for a while, keeping you with Dina and Jesse.
They needed you blind and gullible.
“Are you sure it’s even her description? People just say shit ‘cause they hate her,” you said, holding yourself together. “And Abby? That’s crazy.”
“Another person at the club supported it by saying they saw the two walking out with you,” Joel continued, and you quietly cursed under your breath, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “They were there, so were you.”
You went quiet as you heard some shuffling over the line.
“Do you know something?” He asked.
“I don’t,” you said, sincerity mingled in your words. “I promise I don’t. And I don’t remember anything about being at a club, I’m sorry.”
“Okay, well if you see her or them, call me,” Joel said, and you hummed, hanging up the call immediately. You let go of your shaky breaths, and nodded to yourself as a waterfall of hot tears streamed down your cheeks.
You couldn’t stop thinking of the shirt. It had someone’s blood on it, and they were dumb enough to leave it at home. You knew Jesse and Dina wouldn’t narc them out, they were the same as Ellie and Abby.
You were alone in this; you had the choice of coming forward with the shirt, or keeping your head down, being naive to everything.
Everything started to make sense — the possession, the house, the authority you had given them. They never wanted you to leave, and they eliminated any threats, even ones that hurt you. You were glad they were there at your beck and call, but you never knew it would go to the extremes of murder. You were starting to worry that this wasn’t the first time they did this, but the first time it was starting to catch up with them.
You continued to sob as you went through your phone contacts, and clicked your mother’s number.
It took a few rings until she picked up. “Hello?”
“Momma…” you sobbed out, not knowing how to explain what you were thinking without exposing a lot of things. “Momma, I’m worried.”
Your parents weren’t entirely neglectful — if you really needed them, they were there, and would never get mad at you for anything, even if you had some fault in it. They had their fatal flaws, ones that even affected you, but they’d drop everything if you were in danger.
You never knew why that was, but you appreciated it.
“What’s wrong, dear? What happened?” She asked. “Why are you crying?”
“I think something bad happened,” you sobbed, sniffling. “And… and I can’t be here, in the city. It’s a lot to explain, but can I stay with you in Milan? Please?”
“You’re worrying me, cherie,” she said, and you broke down further, everything in the room spinning with you. “You can come stay. Are you at home?”
“At this penthouse… I’ll send the address to Tony,” you stated, trying to steady your breathing. “Thank you, momma.”
“Of course,” she softly responded, and the line went dead. You rushed down to your feet, running into the walk-in closet, and grabbed a suitcase. You tossed random amounts of clothes until the baggage couldn’t take anymore; you could buy more stuff in Milan.
You tossed your hygienic products on top of the clothes, and before you were going to zip up the luggage, your eyes averted to the hamper. You contemplated taking the shirt with you, burning it in another country so nothing would be traced back to them.
You couldn’t tamper with evidence. But these were your girls, and it was your turn to take care of them, even if their actions made you sick at this very moment. You grabbed the bloody shirt, tucking it under your clothes, and zipped up the suitcase. You put on your sneakers, and tossed a leather jacket over your nightgown.
Abby’s jacket.
You shrugged it off, and grabbed your cell phone, putting it in your purse. You double checked to see if you had everything in your purse before rushing yourself out of the penthouse, and into the elevator.
You didn’t need to leave a note, or anything of that sort. You couldn’t talk to them for a while, not until you made sure you weren’t crazy or overthinking this whole situation. But the shirt was enough to confirm the first of your suspicions, and what Ellie said.
“We handled it”, her voice kept playing in your head, like a broken record.
For now, you needed to isolate yourself; besides, it wasn’t like they would find you.
That wasn’t possible.
You hoped.
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Unhealthy Addiction
(drugdealer!Aemond x Reader)
Synopsis: Your sister is a drug addict, at the mercy of a dreaded drug dealer group led by a mysterious man. When you decide to save your sister from this life that kills her, you didn’t expect to build a whole other addiction to a perfect stranger.
A/N: Just some illogical & weird moderndark!Aemond smut in the October mood.
Words: 5.6k Masterlist
Warnings: dirty talk, dom, oral , vaginal, fingering, manipulation, possessive, begging, light bdsm, slight mention of drugs, praising
Your sister was at her lowest.
She kept screaming at you, scaring the neighbours, alarming the entire street when she went into one of her tantrums and you didn’t know what to do. She was hurting, a pain that only something chemical could ease and you refused to indulge her. This was all she had in mind, getting that fix, and she didn’t mind doing the most violent things, saying the cruellest things to you in order to plead her case.
She kept screaming how she could not be done, how she bought all the drugs from this scary guy, that he convinced her to sell for him. That she couldn’t refuse.
She had no control over herself anymore, but you didn't back down, you had to get her clean.
So you decided that you would take care of it for her.
You made her tell you where she got it from, a shady little place on Silk Street with shady people going around all day and night with business even the police didn’t even dare looking into as you forced her down to the ER. If it was the last link that tied her to this life and her addiction, you would cut it, and, as she dozed off in her hospital bed, you rushed to her flat in apprehension, grabbing the bag full of those terrifying substances and heading down to Silk Street.
You knew it was a bad idea, but you knew you had to do it. You just had to give the bag back, explain to them that your sister wanted nothing to do with them anymore, pay up whatever amount was necessary to make them forget about her and leave.
How naive you were.
You knock on the scruffy-looking door with a trembling hand, the chilly night already settling around you as dogs barked in the distance.
The door creaks open, dim light filtering through a slim screen of smoke that comes out of the messy room. The few people inside look concerningly calm, the soothing electronic music making their head bob inconsistently as the smell of weed slowly reaches you and tickles your nose.
“What?” the huge man at the door says in a flat tone, tattoos on his face but alert eyes strained on you.
“I… have stuff to give back to you,” you courageously state, staring back at him with all the fierceness you could muster and only earning an unimpressed look.
You owed it to your sister, you could do it.
He gauges your appearance mercilessly, unfit for this place and only when you take out the heavy plastic bag out of your purse does he nod silently and step aside to let you in.
You retain a cough, the scent of smoke becoming much stronger as you enter and making your eyes sting. Several pairs of eyes which weren’t hooded and gazing into the void looked lazily at you, eyes so dark there was no more colour in them, swallowed by the blackness of their centre. Two or three men stared at you like they would jump at you at the first false movement while the few women present were half laying on the couches, mouth open in what looked like delight, but you knew better.
A chill goes up your spine, hearing the door close behind you in a sharp snap while you feel the air shift around you.
You did not belong here.
“Who are you?”
The man came out of nowhere, brown skin and brown eyes, luxurious dark hair falling to the side of his face and all dressed in white with a heavy chain hanging around his neck. He scrutinises you, looking you up and down with a judgmental frown.
“It doesn’t matter,” you state after a difficult swallow. “I’m here to return this.”
The man eyes the bag you extend to him, a flash of recognition passing through his features but he doesn’t take it, rather deepening his frown. “Where did you get this?”
You bite your lips, growing uneasy under his gaze. All that you wanted was to leave this place as quickly as possible, even if you had to lie to achieve that. “Maria doesn’t want to do this anymore, and we don’t want any problems. So I’m doing the right thing, and returning it to you.”
The man sneers, an amused smile dancing on his lips and you tense. “Yeah, I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. You’re her sister, aren’t you?”
You don’t have time to answer as the man at the door approaches him with a serious look on his face, ignoring you. “Cole, the boss is back.”
“Perfect timing, he’ll want to see this,” the man named Cole answers without taking his eyes off you. “You’re coming with me, sweetheart. We’ll sort this out, don’t worry.”
You could feel it, the trap closing in on you as he takes the bag from your hands and turns away for you to follow him. “I just want to give you this and leave. Please.”
He gives you an uninterested look over his shoulder, shrugging. “It’s not up to me.”
You shiver as panic starts to fill your nerves, the desire to flee, to run becoming stronger but you make the sensible choice and do as you’re told.
He leads you into a cold-lighted room where the sole wide window is draped with a thick grey curtain and blocks your view of the humid night. The carpet floor is dirty, rendering you uncomfortable as you advance further into the room, chairs and stools stacked along the walls and an old looking desk standing at the opposite side. Even the huge couch below the window isn’t welcoming, the mess on the low table in front of it is filled with objects you don’t recognise.
You shouldn't be here.
Cole throws the bag on the table unceremoniously, the sound startling you as he commands you to wait. “Don’t touch anything.”
You try to settle your breathing, the room suffocating you as you realise that you are stuck, led there by a fool’s hope of coming to an understanding with these men, with dangerous people. You recall the frightened look on your sister’s face as she yelled at you, saying that she couldn’t fail them, couldn’t upset them.
Maybe you should have listened to her. Maybe you should have been scared too.
Muffled whispers filter through the door over the faint music, making you turn around with renewed anxiety as you recognise Cole’s voice. You know your time is running out, and you have no idea what’s going to happen. But then the door opens and you freeze.
It isn’t Cole, but someone much taller, leaner, terrifyingly attractive.
He has long silver hair, silk cascading down over his shoulders that are wrapped around a dark green vest. He wears black trousers, matching with his tee-shirt that clings to his form and contrasts with his skin, fair and white. He effortlessly radiated an unsettling confidence, which you could feel even from a distance, making every muscle in your body tense, and you don’t know where to look. He hasn't even spoken yet.
His eyes are fixed on you, a perverted glow shining within them but you can’t meet it, too focused on the angular features of his face, on how flawless his marble skin and thin red lips look under the dim light. Everything about him is captivating, from his collarbone that peaks from under his shirt to the long scar that runs across his left cheek and further up his eye.
At this moment, you understood why your sister had been scared.
He stares at you for a while before finally smiling briefly in unconcealed satisfaction and closing the door. You don’t move, too stunned to utter a single word as he slowly walks towards the table to pick up the plastic bag and examine it closely, humming to himself. You watch, speechless, noticing the red marks over his knuckles, the bruises that stain his fist and you swallow the taste of iron in your mouth.
The bag is carelessly dropped again as he reaches for a cigarette within his vest without a word, fingers enticingly coming to trap it between his lips and you’re hypnotised, desperate for him to acknowledge you, to say something. But then he flicks the lighter, casting an orange flame on the upper side of his face and you can’t help but gasp.
Unnoticed in the dim light, you can see it now, see how one of his eyes shimmers an icy blue, while the other one shone darker, deeper.
Blue as the night sky.
“You’re Maria’s sister?”
His voice makes you jump, his deep and velvety tone making the hair stand at the back of your neck and your heart race in your chest.
“Y-Yes,” you stammer, words coming out of your throat in strained sounds. “Yes, I am.”
He nods, one corner of his lips curving upwards slightly as he takes a drag, making a thin curtain of smoke escape his sharp nose. “And you’re here because…?”
You manage to swallow the lump in your throat as he draws closer, intelligent eyes searching your features, making you hyper aware of how small you are compared to him. “I… just want to give the drugs back, so she can leave this part of her life behind. We won’t cause any trouble, I-I promise.”
He stops inches in front of you, his body going rigid as his eyes turn a shade of black, making you take a step back in reaction. “And what makes you think I can let that happen?”
You widen your eyes at the soft-spoken threat, freezing as you cower under his gaze.
He sees this. It makes him smile.
“Relax, kitten. I'm not going to hurt you…” he says in the same unsettling tone as his blue eye lowers to the way your chest heaves under your shirt. “It’s just… not how we do things. When you take my stuff, you make a commitment, and you have to go all the way through with it or you get punished. There is no return policy.”
You could see it now, right beneath the scar, the gemstone shoved inside of his eye socket, as blue as the starless sky. It glowed softly, beautifully, and you were left to wonder how a man like him could be so dangerously pretty.
You urgently chase the thought away, slapping yourself internally as you feel yourself shrink under his gaze. “She can’t-,” you try uselessly, feeling the noose slowly constricting around your neck. “I understand, but I’ll pay for you to take it back. I beg of you, it represents almost nothing for you. Please…”
Something noticeably shifts in his eye at your last word, his nostrils flaring as he takes some time to compose himself before asking. “What’s your name?”
You hesitate, thrown off by the question and unable to come up with the simple answer and he grows impatient at your silence. He takes a firm step forward, making the back of your knee hit the chair behind you as the faint heat from the tip of his cigarette reaches your sides somewhere over the skin of your hand.
“What’s. Your. Name?” he repeats slowly, a hint of darkness in his voice.
“Y/N,” you finally blurt out, barely hearing your own voice as he claims your space like it’s his own, prowling.
His lips form silent syllables as he repeats your name to himself, finally satisfied. “And do you know mine, kitten?”
You silently shake your head, feeling excitement rise at the prospect of knowing, shameful eagerness taking hold of your mind, not thinking for a second that it might anger him.
But he only clicks his tongue in disapproval, watching you like you’re nothing more than a nuisance. “I’m Aemond, and if you had known that, kitten, you wouldn’t be here. Because everybody fucking knows I don’t take things back.”
Your nerves stir in renewed fright as his words ring like a death sentence in your ears. You have to find something, anything that would suit him, please him, but your mind draws a blank, the intensity of his gaze holding you in place. You remain silent as he takes a drag from his cigarette, not tearing his eye from you and when he suddenly turns away, it leaves a cold trail of chills along your spine.
You let out a quiet sigh of relief, your lungs burning from your previous lack of air as he wanders around the room.
“I take it you don’t use?” he says unexpectedly as he crushes his cigarette in the ashtray before taking the bag again on the table, drawing a round white pill out with his usual soft tone.
“No…” you answer weakly as he rolls the pill between his fingers, your eyes following the movement, transfixed.
“Mh… You’re one of those… The ones that don’t take wrong turns, the good girls.”
The stress that had settled between your ribs turns into something warmer at the calling, his tone inexplicably making the last ounce of courage you have left emerge.
“If I didn’t take any wrong turns, I wouldn't have ended up here.”
He stills, his eye darting towards you like a single-eyed hawk and you bite your lips in instant regret, almost drawing blood as teeth sink into the thin flesh. His eye lowers to it and you instantly let go with a bashful expression.
He chuckles darkly, a devious smirk appearing on his features and you blink. “See, this is where you’re wrong. I don’t think you’ve realised the opportunity you just walked into… Y/N.”
You feel your stomach turn as reality hits you, your worst fear taking shape right in front of your eyes. Whatever he wanted with you, you could not let it happen, you could not fail your sister and get into the system like she did. She needed you. “Please, Aemond, I only want to be square with you and-”
There was a loud sound, plastic being crushed under immense force as his hand wrapped around the bag and violently squeezed. He took a deep shaky breath, his flashing gaze fixed on you as his knuckles turned white under the pressure. But it was gone seconds later, acting like it had never happened as he dropped the bag and started walking towards you.
“I used, once. This is how it all began,” he stated, a single slender finger brushing the edge of the table as he advanced. “I wasn’t really addicted, but I knew it was enough to cloud my mind, to make me believe that I needed it. But do you want to know what I really need, kitten? Why I stopped?”
You tried to hold his gaze when he lifted a single heated eye at you, excited by his little story, excited by something. He was in his element, he had the upper hand, he knew he was in control. You were only a slave to the fiery blood in your veins.
His finger had reached your arm by the time you registered his question, looming over it like a reverse magnet, untouching. He smiles when he sees chills prickle over your skin there, right before his pupils spread wider, an ink drop in water and you hold your breath.
“I like people begging me. I like the desperation in their voices, their scared little expressions as they mutter pathetic excuses, their pleas as I beat them…” You can feel the thrill in his tone, the pleasure that radiates off him, and you gasp when his finger finally touches your skin, burning. “I like hearing them beg me when they realise there is no escape, when they realise I’m the only solution, that I alone can give them what they want…I like this sensation of control, and I need to feel it on my own terms. Without any substances."
His hand has travelled down your arm, finding your pulse and you feel the thrumming of your heart meet his fingertips, pressing the delicate vein there. You wonder if he can feel your blood running within it, hot and wild.
“You know, when Cole told me there was a lost pretty girl that wanted a refund, I laughed and could not wait to scare that girl. How naive she must be, how foolish. Coming here, wanting nothing more but to protect her poor little sister, asking what I cannot grant you, thinking you’ll get out of it like it’s nothing and not realising the mess you’re in. Just… perfect.”
You want to talk, argue, but you had stopped breathing altogether when his face leans slightly closer to your shoulder and you hear him breathe in your scent, humming within your neck.
“But then, here you are… Pleading me, not once, but three times, kitten, with your sweet little tone of yours and I just-” he inhales brusquely, his pupil now completely blown out as you tremble beneath him. When he manages to talk again, his voice has dropped several octaves lower, guttural. “And now, let’s say that scaring you is not the only thing I want to do to you.”
The air feels sucked out of the room as tension fills it, palpable within the silence and you retain a whimper. His hold on your wrist turns stronger, as if to mark it, your pulse constricted beneath his fingers and you suddenly feel dizzy, gravity pulling you backward as you lose balance. You drop in the chair behind you like a stringless marionette, overthrown by him and his overwhelming presence.
He doesn’t flinch, neither does he comment as he leans over you, strong arms resting on the armrests at each side of you, trapping you as if he had planned everything. You huff when the tip of his hair grazes the skin of your cleavage, a silver curtain dropping under his face.
“So we're going to try this once…. Say please to me again, and I might reconsider your sister's situation.”
A ray of hope cuts through your foggy mind at his words, determination spurring within you as your treacherous tongue already rolls to form the words, eager to please him despite the lack of air in your lungs. “Please...”
The wood at your side cracks as he tightens his grip on the armrest, a repressed hiss dying within his throat as he composes himself again, hooded eye fixed on you, smothering.
“Hm… Yes,” he breathes, content visible on his features. “But the thing is, kitten, your sister was useful to me. She had access to people I didn’t, people like you. I’m sure you can see why it’s difficult for me to let her go.”
You know he is taunting you, dragging out what he wants from you and you know you have no choice but to indulge him, you need to indulge him. “She won’t survive if she keeps on, please.”
You can feel it, the pleasure he takes out of it, the delectable sensation he draws from your words as he licks his lips, a devious smirk tugging at them as he speaks slowly. “And what about you… Kitten?”
The near whisper makes your spine go rigid, his nose coming to loom over the junction of your jaw and you truly try to answer. “I- I don’t understand…”
He is the first to notice as his eyes are drawn to the sudden movement of your body under him: how tightly your thighs are clenched together, how tense you are as you shift, muscle tenses.
You blush shamefully, untying your legs to try to soothe the ache there as well as the heat pooling between them. He lifts a knowing eyebrow, observing you with excitement. "Hm… Not such a good girl after all, are you, kitten?”
He slowly lowers himself, broad hands coming to stroke the length of your thighs from your knees to your hips, the heat of his palms scorching you through your jeans and you repress a whimper, failing. “Did begging me turn you on, kitten?”
His voice is hoarse, playful. You notice his own arousal pressing against the fabric of his pants and it makes your legs widen, watching helplessly as your body responds to your primal urges. “Do you need me to touch you? Is that what you want?”
You struggle, trying to fight what had been evolving since he had entered the room but you find yourself overpowered by your desire, submerged by it. "Yes…"
He arches his eyebrow higher. "Yes, what?"
"Yes, please."
He almost groans as he slowly comes to unbutton your jeans, a warm hand sliding under it and your stomach tenses when he connects with your dampness. "Fuck, kitten. Do you want to say please to me again?”
He rises, giving himself a better angle as he comes to close his face over yours, suffocating as he waits for an answer out of you. When you give him none, he proceeds to grab your chin, pressing your cheeks between his fingers as he continues to stroke the heat between your thighs.
His face is close as he breathes your ragged breaths. “Lost your tongue?”
His gaze is unforgiving, his lips parted in delectation as you moan under him, and you suddenly feel the need to taste them, to chase them.
The movement makes him pull back, tutting as he grips your cheeks tighter. “That was bad. Very bad of you.”
You let out a plaintive whimper when he steps away, his hands departing your wet core and mouth as he comes to stand before you, jaw hanging low, slightly panting. His gaze is fixed on your glistening skin despite the harshness of it, a punishing glare within his eye as he lowers his jeans and briefs in order to free his bulging girth. You feel your mouth salivate as he starts pumping himself in wide long strokes, gaze transfixed on your face.
You’re unable to look away, heaving and hands gripping the wood of the chair tightly. You don’t realise the grinding of your hips against the surface of the chair, unconsciously chasing for what he robbed you of, wanting.
“Stop that,” he commands in a strained voice as precum starts leaking from his tip. You immediately obey, your body stilling as he comes closer, a pang hitting your core at the sight of his continuous movement over him. “You want a taste, kitten?”
One of his hands reaches for your hair, fingers tangling in them softly as he continues to stroke himself steadily, looking down at you with parted lips and he almost purrs when you nod bashfully. He guides you on the floor, eyes blown wide as he makes you kneel before him by a slight pull of your hair. You lick your lips in expectation, soothed by his hand within your strands and feeling the heat radiating off of him.
You feel warmth spread within your cheek as you approach but he suddenly yanks your hair strongly, holding you into place in a hiss. “Then beg for it.”
He has stopped his ministrations over himself, rather squeezing the base of his shaft and making the already swollen tip inflate with blood as he watches you with a harsh and wild blue eye. You have to swallow the saliva that has accumulated in your mouth to talk. “Please, I want you in my mouth, Aemond.”
He groans as he lets go of his throbbing cock and loosen his hold over your scalp, allowing you to finally run a playful tongue along his length and wrap your hands around him, appeased by the sounds you draw out of him. “That’s it… Good girl.”
You try to go slow, hollowing your cheeks while you take him deeper and deeper, but as the minutes pass you feel the pressure of his hand in your hair tighten. The next moment he is claiming your mouth, making his tip hit at the back of your throat in loud lewd sounds as well as gag several times before he lets you go with a low growl.
You try to settle your breathing again as he wipes the single thread of saliva that connects you to his cock before probing you up by your chin, chest heaving in lust. “Do you even know how good that begging mouth feels? Do you even realise?”
You only feel the aching inside of your lower stomach heighten through your daze, and your mouth forms lazy words you don’t know the purpose of, blinking weakly. “Please, Aemond…”
“Fuck, kitten. Are you going to ask me to fuck you, is that it? Is that what you want to say?”
His thumb grazes the side of your jaw and you barely acknowledge his length against your hip, hot against your flesh. “I- Yes.”
A low grumble escapes his mouth right before you’re pushed on the sofa without warning, his hands rushing to get rid of his vest and pants before tugging at yours, forcing you to dig your hands into the cushions as he bends you over.
You quiver as your skin is met with the cool air but the next moment he moulds his chest against your back and you freeze, his mouth coming to position inches from your ear as a rough hand grabs your throat from behind, squeezing.
“From now on, kitten, you beg me for everything. You want to be touched? You beg me. You want to touch me? You beg me. You want my cock? You say please. You want to cum? You fucking ask permission. You’re gonna be extra polite for me, you understand?”
You let out a strained sound against his fingers he takes for an affirmation before taking hold of your hips, not wasting a second to align himself near your entrance and you exhale in want as he lets go of your neck. Your fists clutch the fabric of the sofa as he runs his length against your folds once, twice, and you can’t help but close your eyes in frustration, feeling his pleasure growing at what he knows you’re about to say. “Please…”
You hear his satisfied growl as his fingers presses deeper into your flesh and you let out a quick gasp as he plunges into you in a swift stroke, quickly replaced by needy moans as you feel the ache in your loins sharpen. He fills you, his thrusts growing from controlled to erratic, faint praises whispered through the sounds of smacking flesh as he roams his hand over your back, and soon you feel your muscles pulse around him in building tension.
It makes him tighten at once behind you, fingers bruising the flesh of your ass as he suddenly withdraws and with a few last strokes, spills onto your back with a ragged groan.
“Fuck, look at the mess you’ve made…” he tuts while you whimper from the sudden loss, feeling your walls pulsating over nothing as he watches his cock glistens with your fluids. “You don’t care about being dirty, do you? You just like being a good girl.”
You whine again as he spreads his seed over your lower back soothingly, not caring for the stains but rather snaking a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts to squeeze it as you wiggle under him, his name on your tongue.
“What is it, kitten? Do you need to cum?” he purrs as he caresses your breast firmly, hoisting you up against him.
“Yes please, please…”
His hold tightens, his face coming close to your neck and you can feel his hot breath on your cheek as he coos. “Prettier.”
The heat in your stomach thickens, heart racing against your ribcage in nervousness and you melt into his embrace. “P-Please, I need to cum. I need you to make me cum.”
He hums in satisfaction as he turns you around, flattening you against the back of the couch and yanking your shirt over your head as he spreads your legs, his jaw dropping in elation when he slides two fingers inside of you, making your head fall back with a loud moan. Your legs barely hold you as he rubs his thumb over your clit at a consuming pace, his long fingers finding the rough spot within you as if he had known it all of his life, and you’re soon panting heavily.
His gaze is fixed on your face, enjoying every moment, every painful expression as you’re closing on your high, waiting for you to say exactly what he wants and when he feels your walls clenching around his fingers, he stops, violently squeezing your inside between his three digits.
You wail at the sensation, meeting his harsh gaze and fascinated eye and soon you let out a strained sob, your inside muscles constricting painfully. “Aren’t you forgetting something, kitten?”
You swallow with difficulty as he smiles, his grip on you merciless, unmoving and you feel your legs tremble. “Please, don’t stop, I want- I need to cum. Please, I beg you.”
“Good girls ask permission, remember?” he grunts as he starts his movement again, rough digits now too slow on your wetness. “Try again.”
“Can I please… cum,” you plead in a strained sob, gripping the back of the couch more tightly but when he starts stroking your insides again, you see nothing but white, the coiling sensation within your core finally snapping and he doesn’t stop until you’re a puddle under him, letting you sink on the couch in a ghosting embrace.
“That’s it,” he soothes, grazing your waist and breast before gently making you suck on his fingers after the last shockwaves of your climax, tasting yourself through your heavy breaths. “Such an obedient little kitten.”
You slowly start to get the control of your legs back as he wipes some sweat out of your hair, but his gaze is nothing but soothing. “Fuck, look how hard you made me again, with you begging me so sweetly…”
He slowly runs one of his hands up your thigh, his hardening state hitting your flesh briefly before he lifts your knees up, positioning his weight over each of your thighs and you blink in anticipation, too dazed to utter a word. You angle yourself better against his body, the only confirmation he needs before he plunges into you again, this time his desire is too strong to wait for you to find your composure back.
It burns, vividly so, your swollen flesh barely recovered from your previous climax and you start moaning loudly, your hand rushing to your mouth to stop the embarrassing sounds from escaping your throat.
Two hands come to snap it away, lacing them over your head in a secure hold and you sink your teeth in your flesh when you meet his fierce gaze, the roll of his hips unfaltering. “No no no, kitten. Let them hear you, hear how desperate you are for my cock, how much you like begging for it.”
“Kiss me.”
He recoils slightly, his thrust slowing gradually as his single eye widen, the black of it taking over. “I don’t kiss my pets.”
“Please...”
Your voice sounds broken, a hint of determination within it that makes him blink and you can clearly see him battling himself for a moment before he crashes his lips against yours. The suddenness of it makes you moan against him as he devours you, the roll of his hips starting again deeper, needier.
It hits every right spot despite the overstimulation and soon you feel a numbness take hold of you, goosebumps spreading over your body. “Aemond, I’m going to-”
He grunts against your mouth as his hand comes to play with your breast again, freeing one of your own in the process that you bring to his face, stroking the smooth skin there along with the scar that marks his cheek. “You’re not cumming yet, I need you to wait a little while longer, alright kitten?”
His thrust slows again and you feel the pleasurable pain of being denied once more, filled by the need to obey him. “I can’t-”
“Don’t you dare cum before I say so, be a good girl and wait for my fucking permission, you understand?”
You close your eyes in a tremendous effort not to let the stretching sensation of him rocking inside of you overcome you too fast, your back arching under him and you feel his free hand flatten against your stomach to immobilise you, shushing you in a husky tone.
You beg one last time, feeling your guts heating up with the way he is chasing his own climax with deep thrusts and you dig your nails in his shoulder.
“Fuck… Come on, kitten, come for me, you can let go.”
Your vision blurs, your eyes rolling back as you cry out, your body going numb under the shattering pleasure and you don’t register anything, not how he follows you minutes later as you clench around him nor where he spills himself. You just feel like your limbs don’t obey you anymore.
You huff, feeling Aemond’s scent and sweat envelop you and when you open your eyes he is looking down at you with a hooded eye.
His thumb massages a spot over your shoulder and a sorry expression passes on his feature as he sets a strand of your hair aside. “I can’t grant you what you asked for.”
You feel cold all of a sudden, the air biting your damp skin as his warm fingers graze your cheek, feeling your disappointment.
“I’ll leave your sister alone, as you wished, but I’m not taking the drugs back. You’ll have to find a way to sell, as Maria promised she would.”
A wave of relief runs through you, happiness for your sister but an odd sensation takes place within your chest as the man next to you watches you with fierceness. “Because you… you’re going to be very useful to me, kitten.”
You don’t glance away, you don’t recoil.
Because you’re not sure you want to leave anyway.
Tagging @watercolorskyy and thanking @babyblue711 for the beta reading. We cannot disappoint.
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