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“Simon Riley, if you don’t - ”

He leans down, lips brushing yours in the lightest, most infuriating tease of a kiss. “If I don’t what?” Another ghost of a kiss, pulling back when you chase it. “Use your words, darling. Tell me exactly what you don’t want me to do.”

You huff, tugging harder. The cuffs clink again. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Fuck yes I am.” His eyes darken as he sits back on his heels, drinking in the sight of you stretched out and helpless. He takes his sweet time peeling off his shirt, then your clothes, dragging every layer down with torturous patience, fingers grazing but never quite giving you what you want.

By the time you’re bare beneath him, you’re already panting. Simon trails one finger down your stomach, stopping just above where you need him.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice rough. “All tied up and wet for me. Been thinking about this for weeks, haven’t you?”

“No,” you lie, squirming.

He chuckles darkly and leans down, breath hot against your inner thigh. “Liar.”

His tongue finally strokes over you, slow, deliberate, and devastatingly perfect. He drags the flat of it up through your folds in one long, firm lick, then swirls the tip around your clit with lazy precision. Every time you try to chase more pressure he pulls back, teasing with light flicks and torturous circles until you’re cursing his name.

“Simon - please! ”

“Please what?” He nips your inner thigh, then soothes the sting with a slow lick. “Use those pretty words, love. Or should I keep you like this all night?”

You’re about to snap at him when he finally stops teasing. He growls against your soaked pussy and devours you properly, mouth hot and hungry, tongue fucking into you before sucking your clit between his lips with just the right pressure.

He doesn’t let up, licking and sucking relentlessly while the cuffs rattle with every desperate tug. The sound clearly drives him wild. His grip on your thighs tightens and he groans deeply into you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine.

When he finally snaps, he sheds the rest of his clothes and sinks into you in one deep thrust, swallowing your cry with a hungry kiss.

Your back arches hard, wrists yanking against the cuffs as you struggle. His hand comes to your throat, firm, possessive pressure, not squeezing hard but reminding you exactly who’s in control. His thumb brushes your jaw as he holds your gaze, dark eyes burning.

He fucks you hard then, deep and punishing, every powerful thrust driving you up the bed. The headboard slams. The chain rattles loudly with every desperate tug. The more you fight, the tighter his grip on your throat becomes, just enough to make your head spin in the best way.

“Look at you… all mine,” he growls against your ear. “Can’t even touch me. Just take it like a good girl.”

You come hard around him, crying out as the cuffs dig in and your whole body shakes. Simon follows with a deep groan, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you.

After you both come down, he unlocks your wrists with surprising gentleness. You hiss as the raw skin stings. Simon’s face softens immediately.

“You alright, love?” he asks quietly, thumb brushing carefully over the reddened marks.

You smile, still breathless. “More than alright. Worth every mark.”

He presses lingering kisses to each wrist, then to your forehead, before settling beside you, one thick arm slung above his head.

Your turn.

You move fast, adrenaline and mischief surging. The cuff clicks around his right wrist before he even processes it.

His eyes fly open. “Cheeky little - ”

You’re already wrestling his other arm, laughing as he half-heartedly resists (you know he could stop you if he really wanted). The second cuff locks. The chain snaps taut as he tests it, muscles flexing.

You straddle his hips, grinning down at him. “Ohhh, this is delicious. Big bad Ghost… completely at my mercy.”

Simon tugs once, hard. The headboard creaks. “You’re going to regret this, love.”

“Am I?” You drag your nails lightly down his chest, leaning down to brush your lips against his without kissing him. “Because I think you’re already hard again.”

You take your time, kissing down his body, licking every scar, teasing his cock with soft little licks and slow strokes until he’s growling and straining against the cuffs.

“Fuck, love. Stop - .”

You look up at him with mock innocence, lips brushing the head. “What was that? Stop what? Use your words, Simon.”

He curses, hips bucking, the metal clinking loudly. You reward him by taking him into your mouth, slow, wet, and torturously lazy, until he’s panting and the bed is shaking from how hard he’s pulling.

Only then do you climb up and sink down onto him, riding him deep and steady. Simon groals, thrusting up to meet you, pure strength testing the limits of the cuffs and the bedframe.

The headboard slams. The chain rattles constantly. You lean forward, nipping his jaw. “My turn to take what I want, Lieutenant.”

You brace your hands on his chest and start fucking him exactly how you want, rising up until just the tip catches at your entrance, then slamming yourself back down hard, taking every thick inch in one slick motion. You ride him with deep, rolling movements, hips circling and grinding on every downstroke so he feels you clench around him from base to tip.

Simon’s abs flex hard beneath you, a wrecked groan tearing from his throat as he yanks against the cuffs again and again. The metal bites into his wrists, the chain singing with every violent pull, but he can’t touch you. Can’t grab your hips. Can’t pin you down. He’s completely at your mercy, and the frustration mixed with raw pleasure on his face is intoxicating.

You reach back with one hand, spreading yourself so he has an even better view of how you’re swallowing his cock, then pick up the pace, bouncing on him faster, harder. You angle yourself so his cock drags right against that perfect spot inside you on every stroke, moaning loudly as the pleasure builds.

“Fuck, Simon… you feel so good like this,” you gasp, voice breathy and teasing. “All that power and you can’t do anything but lie there and take it.”

He groans your name like a threat and a prayer, hips snapping up as much as the restraints allow, meeting your rhythm with brutal upward thrusts that make the bed creak ominously.

The harder he fights the cuffs, the wetter and bolder you get, riding him with filthy, greedy rolls of your hips, chasing your own pleasure while driving him closer to the edge.

You reach between your legs and rub your clit in tight circles, clenching around him on purpose just to hear the broken sound he makes.

That finally snaps the last of his control.

Simon’s whole body goes rigid, muscles bulging as he pulls hard enough on the cuffs that the headboard groans in protest. He comes with a deep, guttural roar, pulsing hot inside you. The feeling drags you over right after him. You shatter hard around his cock, thighs shaking, crying out as the orgasm crashes through you.

You both stay locked together, panting and trembling, the cuffs still rattling faintly with the aftershocks of his struggles.

When you collapse onto his chest, both of you wrecked and laughing breathlessly, you reach up to free him. But his voice stops you, low, rough, and very satisfied.

“Leave them on a little longer.”

Simon’s voice drops even lower, that commanding edge still fully intact despite his wrists locked above his head.

“Turn around. Straddle me backwards.”

You lift your head, arching a brow at him even as heat pools low in your belly. “What makes you think I’ll do what you tell me, Simon? You’re the one chained to this bed.”

His eyes flash with dark amusement, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth. “Because you like it when I tell you what to do. And because I want to watch that pretty arse and the way you take every inch of me.”

The words hit you like a spark. You bite your lip, pretending to consider it, then slowly shift. You swing your leg over and settle reverse on his hips, facing away from him.

The new angle already has you both breathing harder. You reach back, guiding his cock to your entrance, and sink down inch by inch with a soft, satisfied moan.

“Fuck… just like that,” he growls, the cuffs rattling sharply as he instinctively tries to reach for your hips. The chain goes taut, metal biting into his wrists. He pulls harder, muscles straining, the headboard creaking dangerously under the force.

You glance over your shoulder, rolling your hips in a slow, deliberate grind that makes his cock drag perfectly inside you.

“Mmm, look at you… You’re the one who wanted me to leave the cuffs on. Now you’re fighting them so hard I think you’re going to break the bed just to get your hands on me.”

He lets out a rough laugh that turns into a groan when you circle your hips again, taking him deeper. “Keep talking, love. See what happens when I finally get out of these.”

You lean forward slightly, bracing your hands on his thighs, and start riding him properly, long, teasing strokes that let him see everything. The sound of the cuffs is constant now, a sharp metallic reminder of his struggle every time you roll down onto him. He thrusts up to meet you, powerful and impatient, the whole bedframe protesting.

Simon’s reply is a low, strained snarl. “I can handle plenty. Faster, love. Let me see you.”

You obey this time, mostly because you want it just as badly, but you keep the pace torturously controlled at first, grinding deep and slow, savoring the way his breathing fractures and the cuffs keep clinking with every desperate pull.

The tension builds fast between you, the teasing push-and-pull turning desperate. You ride him harder, rolling your hips exactly how he likes, and Simon meets every movement with powerful thrusts that make the bed shake. The cuffs rattle wildly as he strains, growling your name like a warning.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me… Come for me, love,” he demands, voice wrecked.

You shatter first, clenching around him with a broken cry. Simon follows right after with a deep, guttural groan, hips jerking up as he spills inside you again.

You stay like that for a moment, catching your breath, before you finally turn, lean forward and unlock the cuffs with shaky fingers.

The second his wrists are free, Simon sits up and pulls you back against his chest, arms wrapping around you possessively.

You gently take his wrists, pressing soft kisses to the angry red marks the metal left behind. “You really went for it,” you murmur, lips brushing the raw skin. “Look at these…”

“Worth every second,” he rumbles, voice still rough with pleasure. His free hand strokes down your back, tender now.

You smile mischievously and reach for your phone on the nightstand. “We should thank Johnny for this gift. I’m texting him right now -".

Simon’s hand shoots out lightning-fast, snatching the phone from your fingers before you can even unlock it. “The fuck you are.”

You laugh, trying (and failing) to grab it back as he holds it high above his head, out of reach. “Come on! Just a quick ‘thanks for the handcuffs, they worked great’? He deserves to know his joke was a success!”

Simon’s eyes narrow, but there’s clear amusement in them as he tosses the phone somewhere across the room and flips you beneath him in one smooth move. “Johnny doesn’t hear a word about this. Ever.”

You grin up at him, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Possessive much? What are you gonna do, Simon? Cuff me again to keep me quiet?”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss before pulling back just enough to murmur against your mouth, “Tempting. But I’ve got better ways to shut you up.”

You both dissolve into laughter, tangled together in the sheets, the ruined bed creaking one last time as Simon proves exactly how possessive he can be.

Your legs shuffle with every single one of his rude thrusts into your tight cunt, salivating at how much he’s stretching you out, you bite your lip, keening, “Good- angh- you’re sho goo Si! Like that, right there-“

Simon snickers, but it’s a pitch he lighter than normal, like you’re sucking his soul, “Sound so fuckin stupid baby, you like this shit huh? Getting slutted out in dirty fuckin bathroom.” He slams into your spongy walls. Dick filling you to the brim and then pulling out till just the tip is in them ramming it back in.

You hear the door to the bathroom creak open, two men entering the titled cramped space. Your eyes widen, clamping down on the brute who’s more than 6 inches inside you. Simons scared and rough hand crawling up from your waist, inside of your thin shirt, your neck, just to cover your mouth. He whispers in your ear. “Keep it shut or they’ll hear you screaming.”

As if that would be enough to hear the little muffled, ‘mmph’ and ‘annh’ while Simon rolls his sloppily into you.

There’s a laugh, something you can’t make out while Simon arches your back further with the palm of his hand, balls thwacking against your drooling pussy.

“Oh my god, is somebody fucking in here?”

Your walls tighten again and Simon darkly chuckles, poor baby, poor pussy— you were almost aching to get caught. Squeezing the Lieutenants painfully red length for dear life, a string of curses leaving his mouth as he rests his chin on your shoulder, Smacking then kneeding your ass. You hear their footsteps stop at your stall but he’s not stopping, your cunt still sloshing every time Simon gives you those half thrusts, and Simon cracks his neck,

“Hck- Do you have a bloody problem?” Simon bellows, stomach in knots as his tip smooches your cervix over and over. And it takes all of you, dumb on his cock and aching for release, that you grind your perfect hips back on him. His breath hitches, weeping cunt soaking him down to his base. You look back at him, eyes low, lowly purring, “Siii.”

Oh, he could die happy tonight.

Shit, he could die happy right now.

“Fuckin hell hm-“ he groans, giving your ass a harsh smack that ripples even more as you throw your rounded globes back against the hair of his pelvis once more, he spat, unable to control his voice as to who he’s talking to, “Fuckin move then you nasty bitch.” And you moan, hands flat on the wall of the sharpie ridden bathroom stall as you meet his quick pound.

“Shit i-is that Ghost?” One guy stutters out.

“Let’s get out of here!” And they both rush out, door swinging behind them.

You gasp when Simon uncovers his mouth, babbling, “Cumming- I’m cumming-“

Simon curses, grinding you down on his length harder as that filling builds in the pit of yout stomach, “Fuckin do it then- hngh- fuck get there.” you let out a near horror movie scream, creaming and throbbing on his cock.

Simon chokes on his words, fully engulfed by how incredible you feel, his hips buck, stuttering in your gushing hole, “Shit, take it, take it, take- god fuckin damn it-“ he floods you, painting every inch of your insides.

“A-Again.” You slur, a haze over your eyes as you look back at him. Completely fucked out, you use the last bit of strength in you, pushing against the wall and against him, ass pushed flush against his abdomen.

Simons breath hitches, licking the side of his mouth just in case the drool snuck out any further, “A-almost like y’ want me t’ breed you in bathroom huh doll?”

Your eyes gloss over, he can practically see the hearts in your eyes. His brown eyes peer down, spreading your cheeks apart and seeing the sight of his and your cum leaking out.

Simon licks his lips, voice hoarse, “fuck woman, I-I’ll go crazy like this.”

Your lips purse, all needy, wanting, “inside me course,” your second second set of hips dragging him in, “right Si?”

You always get what you want after all.

✦ Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

“I Wanna Get On It, Jump On Em, Ride it Until the Morning!”

Gaz’s neighbors hated to see you coming.

You always come over around 2 am, no clue how you got to his apartment complex, heels clicking as you tipsily walk to his front door, makeup slightly but perfectly smudged, dress tightly hugging every curve of your hips, smug smirk on your glossed lips as you lean on the door frame,

You giggle, “Hey baby.”

“How was the party? Did you drink too much?” He cocks an eyebrow, slightly worried, slightly teasing, helping you out of your heels.

You giggle, patting his chest as you get closer, “Not enough- hck- that I made it to my boyfriends in one piece.”

It’s two seconds to have Gaz pull you in by locking his lips on yours, ten to lift you off your feet get you to the couch and another ten to get your backless dress up, underwear around your ankle and shimmying down, down, down Kyle’s fat cock. His calloused hands rest on your hips, head thrown back as your snug cunt takes him on another late night for him, it’s still early for you. Kyle is awe struck when he manages to blink his pretty brown eyes open, groaning out a breath, “G-God your gorgeous, so- mm- so gorgeous- just like that baby, fuck.”

You rock your hips down, back and forth, up and down, your ass smack, smack, smacking against his thighs with every thrust. You mewl, clawing at his muscular and broad shoulders, “Fuck- feels so good Ky- love it so much!”

You bounce faster, his rock hard cockhead brushing right at your sweet spot, pussy squelching every time you take him into your sopping walls. You press your body onto him, perfect tits pressed against his chest, nipples hard through the fabrics as swivel your hips, drool starting to fall from your mouth.

“Shit, s-sweetheart, hck- t-take it easy.” He whines, he’d just woken up 30 minutes ago, when you sent that drunk text, ‘M cumin over Kywee, waait uo 4 me.’ Now he’s struggling to keep up with you, the brand new couch creaking and banging against the wall as you ride him. And the sergeant can see it, the ring of cream at the bottom of his length, how you take his big girth like it’s nothing, then reveal it like a magic trick.

“Hngh- But I need it Ky,” your head title to the side, eyes blown out, and god you’re not high, high of this. Cock drunk and aching for more, more, more. Letting you fuck his brains out, the ecstasy of your pussy feeling so good while he’s throbbing inside your velvety walls.

You let out a sultry whine, rocking your hips down harder, “Fuck, hah- you don’t want it?”

As if he could say no to you like this? Holding onto your slutty hips as if you’d send him right off to the after life in your heavenly pussy. His aching cock is glistening in your juices from the tip to the base, thrusting up into you so perfectly it makes you both moan. Kyle pulls you closer, his handsome face in between your tits, nibbling and kissing your chest. Your nails run through his tight curls, pulling just enough that the bigger man lets out a strangled moan.

“You’re so good f’me baby, Jesus Christ, ride me so— oh my god!”

You swivel your hips and bounce, the loud ‘clap, clap, clap’ of skin smacking against each other filling the room as you swallow him whole, the praise only makes you feel better, makes you want it harder, deeper— his leaking tip smearing pre deeper inside your soaking pussy.

“Wan it in me Kyle, please,” you hiccup, kissing his two tone lips once, giving him another one but long. Lips smacking together, but it’s louder than his balls against your cunt though, a string of saliva leaves your mouth as you pull away, letting out a breathy moan, “Cum inside me.”

He murmurs something incoherent in your chest, and when you ask him to repeat the words, he swallows, looking up with you with such glossy half lidded eyes, “You’re gonna have to wife me baby- p-please. Please wife me.”

Oh, he’s the one who’s drunk.

And you’re drunk on him.

Hands going up and down your thighs and to your waist, squeezing, rutting upward as you slam yourself down, caressing his face. “So pretty, Ky, gorgeous.” You say breathlessly.

He lets out an airy chuckle, sweat starting to form on his brown skin, “A good wife for you then.” You couldn’t even giggle at his words, walls beautifully throbbing around him causing you to keen. Your mouth agape as you pant, “Fuck, Ky, fuck!”

Kyle chokes on moan, spurts of his thick load filling your elastic pussy. He slumps back, eyes on you in all yout glory, skin sticky. But your sat up, still twitching from the after shocks but throwing off your dress.

The man curses, “Shit baby, you’re tryin to go again?”

You pout, titling yout head to the side but guiding his hands to grip your ass as you grind down on him. “But the suns- hm- suns not up yet Kyle.”

He whispers, head thrown back again as you clamp down around him his growing cock, “God, lovie, I think you’re gonna kill me.”

✦ Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish

“Get to My Hotel and Suck Him Off in The Elevator!”

“How long do you think It'll take to make me cum?”

You roll your eyes, “You’re easy.”

He fake gasps, clutching his heart, “Am not Bon! What kinda man do ye take me for?”

Maybe Johnny Mactavish was easy.

Maybe because he was over excited because he finally got the chance to fuck you before anyone else at the club could snag you up at your favorite place, maybe because it was taking too fuckin long to get back to the hotel.

But he was half hard when you walked into the building, his cock fully chubbing out his denim jeans by the time you got on your knees in the elevator, rubbing your pretty face into his cock. Swearing you couldn’t wait either, tucking a stray defined curl behind your ear as you pulled out his red and hard length. Soap wasn’t the biggest man alive but definitely was the widest, made you more wet as you licked a stripe around the vein of his cock.

He gulps as you wrap your plump and dark red stained lips around his cockhead, “W-what if someone comes?”

You can’t help the ends of your lips turning upward, smearing his thick pre across your lips, “The one time you worry to much, let me get you right.”

You were a freak, humping the fucking ground like a bitch in heat as you widened your mouth, slurping and sucking him in until you chocked. You swirled your tongue around his rock hard member, bopping your head back and forth, the ‘shlick, shlick, shlick,’ sound of filling the small space. You reach between your thighs, rubbing your pulsing little Pearl that’s behind soaked panties. You pull him out yout mouth, smirking as he withers, letting your lips glide around the side of his cock.

“You should probably admit that you’re more than easy honey.”

Johnny groans when you wrap your hand around him, fingers wet from your own slick, rolling your hand at the bottom of his length, “Shit, m’ easy, aye m- soooo easy, baby- please- please-“

“Please, what?”

His eyes water, desperate as you suck the side of he aching strawberry red dick, “Please suck m’ dick, need it, fuck- I want ye bad—“ he doesn’t even get to say another word as you push your head back down his dick, sucking him like a mad man.

“You’re mouth lass, fuck, feels good-“ he moans, eyes closing shut as he grips the handle bars behind him, his legs quiver as you hollow you mouth, taking him in deep faster. Your mouth was so warm, face so messed up with every moment, his pre cum and spit running down your chin. You use your fingers, flicking your clit with one hand and tickling Johnnys sensitive balls with the other. Your head bopping up and down, fingers on your pussy moving faster and faster. You groan around him, your breath felt at his stomach.

The elevator suddenly jolts, going upward.

You pull off him with a pop, smacking the tip on your tongue, licking between the little hole in his cock, that makes his hips buck uncontrollably, “What floor?”

So god damn filthy.

Soap stutters out as he sees the sloppy state of you. Makeup a mess, shirt off the shoulder now, cum down your chin. His heart pounds, “10.”

You hum, giving the tip a peck, taking him back in till he’s deep in your mouth, and you guide his hand in your curls, nodding with a stuffed mouth, so unlady like, telling him with those pretty brown mascara ran eyes that look up at him, ‘Fuck my mouth.’

And Soap whimpers when he looks down at you, taking your head in both his hands and fucking your face to the very hilt. Your eyes teary as he ruts into your soaking and pussy of a mouth, balls against your chin with every thrust, you flatten your tongue, gurgling more and more, till his hips are stuttering, he whimpers, letting your head go but you only go faster, sucking him harsher, “Shit- I’ll cum- wait ‘M gonna cum!”

You only moan, rubbing your pussy till your fluttering around nothing and your panties are a mess, vibrations going around the Scottish man’s needy cock. Soaps weary and teary blue eyes flicker to the floor number, and he cums, hard. Shaking and panting, embarrassed and flustered and coating your mouth as the doors open. You slowly rise from the floor as the doors to the tenth floor ‘ding’ ding. Zipping up Soaps pants and patting his face with his own cum as the stranger gets on the elevator.

You slowly put your head down, attempting to mask the smirk that’s on your mouth while wiping the cum at the end of your lips with your thumb, glancing over at Soap who’s gobbsmacked and panting.

You whisper, linking your pinky’s, ”Easy and quick, see?”

Johnny let’s put an audible moan, loud enough that the stranger is startled by his actions.

He gulps, “I cannae wait t’ get in yer pussy Bon.”

✦ Captain John Price

“I Spilled the Salt Shaker, Buckle Bunny, Bad Behavior.”

You been throwing a fit the whole night really.

Going against everything John had going for himself.

Leaving out the house first, wearing that skimpy see through dress he didn’t know about till tonight that made everyone’s eyes linger longer than they should have, showing up at the bar he liked but thought you wouldn’t show up at and then tipsily giving the random guy you were flirting with the lap dance of his life. Spilling the salt from how hard you were grinding down on the guy was probably an indication that the night wouldn’t go so well after that.

But it’s not like you were Johns.

A party girl known for fucking military men when they came to town, John wasn’t the first—

But right now, the way he had you holding up your own knees to your earlobes as he sledgehammered his way into your sobbing pussy— he would definitely be the last.

“Why- shit- why the fuck are you so god damn stubborn? The bearded man grunts using your legs as leverage.

“Too deeeeep John!” you hiccup, pushing as his hairy abdomen, but he shuts you up with a beautifully brutal rut of hips, head of his cock giving you a slobbering smooch everytime he bottoms out.

“You wanna be a brat, you can take it like a fuckin brat.” He grits, pounding into your mess of cunt furiously.

“Or,” Price breaths out of his nose, painfully slow pulling himself out pushing the tip in and out and nothing more. Causing you to whine, legs trembling as you let out a muffled and needy moan. “You could admit that, hah- you’re all mine.”

It’s stupid being stubborn. Couldn’t help yourself.

You let out something between a scuff and a giggle, and Price knew you would, locking your heels behind his head and pushing your legs deep into the mattress without a second thought. Your toes curl as he sinks himself to the very hilt, back arching off the bed and cw laying at his lower back, “John- fu- Joooohn!” You moan.

“Dirty little thing,” he deeply rasps as you gush and squeeze around his curved and thick member, “Guess every buckle bunny needs a little lesson don’t they sweetheart?”

His thrusts don’t stop, brushing against your g-spot over and over, so pretty all cock drunk and teary eyed while taking his ridged and veiny cock. Every bit of your soaking walls welcoming him in and then begging him to stay inside your ocean of a pussy. “Jesus,” he shudders as he dives deep inside you, the way you manage to soak him to his balls. “This fuckin wet all the fuckin time.” He’s popping a vein in his forehead absolutely hypnotized the way your pussy lips are sucking him in. Your feet flopping behind his head as he grinds into you, the loud sound of his big breeder balls thwack, thwack, thwacking against your cunt. You manage to buck your hips up, needy, taking Johns breath away as you meet his thrusts, managing to get deeper inside you.

“Shit-“ your bottom lip wobbles, body out of your control but feeling so tremendously good in John’s tight beefy hold, “M’ Sorry John! Haangh- mmm- sorry! John!” You groan, eyes glazed over and jaw slack. Bitting your lip to contain yourself. But it doesn’t help, especially the sloppy kiss John gives you, entertaining your tongues while his cock head reaches your sweetest parts.

He scuffs, pulling away and letting his pace quicken, the bed creaking as he brushes your curls back, rocking into you drenched pussy that’s dampening his pubic hairs, the older man nibbles at your shoulder. “You’re not.”

And he’d right.

“You’re still mine though, takin my cock like a champ dovie.”

And he’d be right about that too. Made your toes curl, heart race a million times faster, all his, all his, always all his.

If you hadn’t acted the way you did, he wouldn’t be fucking you like it was the last day on earth, speaking of—

You choke on a moan, bringing John in closer to you someway, some how. “Fuck- is sooo much- cumming!”

“I know, shiiit sweetheart, I know.” He coos sweetly. Kissing your plump lips once more.

The older man has nestled himself inside you as your walls clench around his length, groaning as spurts of his milky white cum fill you till you’re stuffed.

You hiccup and heave, big eyes looking at him, clenching tighter than usual, you whimper so cutely in his ear, “More John.”

They don’t call you buckle bunny for no reason.

That’s how you ended up here—naked on the bed, thighs spread over Price’s lap while Gaz knelt between your legs like he’d been invited to dinner.

Price’s big hands were firm on your waist, keeping you pinned back against his chest. “She’s sensitive.” he muttered, almost clinical, but you could feel how hard he was against your lower back. “On with it, sergeant.”

Gaz’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and hungry. “You ready for this, love?”

You nodded, already wet and aching just from the sheer thrill of the situation.

Gaz didn’t waste time. Two thick fingers slid through your folds, spreading you open. “First thing—don’t rush. Get her nice and wet.” He rubbed slow circles over your clit until your hips jerked, then pushed two fingers inside, curling just right.

Price watched every movement like it was a briefing.

“There’s a spongy spot here…” Gaz pressed upward deliberately causing your whole body to jolt. “Right there. That’s your target.”

He started pumping—steady, focused strokes that dragged over that spot again and again while his thumb kept pressure on your clit.

Price’s voice was rough in your ear. “Breathe, sweetheart. Let him work.”

Your orgasm built fast—embarrassingly so.

“That’s it..” Gaz praised, voice low. “She’s swelling up. See how she’s pulsing?” He added a third finger and the pressure inside became unbearable. “When she starts trying to close her legs, don’t let her. Keep going.”

Price’s hands moved to your thighs, holding them open. You came with a broken cry, but Gaz didn’t stop. He kept fingering you through it, rough and relentless, and suddenly everything felt tighter, hotter, like something was about to—

“There..” Gaz growled. “Let it go, lovely...”

With a whine, a gush of wetness flooded out around his fingers, soaking the sheets and his wrist. Price made a low, filthy sound behind you as he watched you squirt for the first time in your life.

Gaz eased his fingers out slowly, letting you ride the aftershocks, then lifted his soaked hand to show Price. “That’s the spot. Consistent pressure, curved fingers, and you don’t stop when she comes.. you keep going until she gives it to you.”

Price’s breathing was ragged. His cock was nearly throbbing against your back.

Gaz wiped his fingers on your inner thigh, then met Price’s eyes. “Your turn, Captain.”

Price shifted you forward, laying you down properly. He kissed the inside of your knee, voice low with promise.

“Watch close, Sergeant. I’m a fast learner.”

Deer shifter!reader that likes frolicking through the woods with cool winter-around-the-corner air blowing into your hair and nipping at the ears that sprout from the top of your head. Follow the trail, don’t worry too much when you wander off it because the woods are second nature to you…until you get caught in a foothold trap. Ears glued to your skull, panicked bawls tumbling past your lips as you fumble with the trap through the blur of tears in your eyes.

Too distracted to notice bear shifter!Price who hears you from his cabin and follows your pathetic cries with thundering steps. Scoffs when he sees you caught in the trap left by one of those local hunters, in his backyard nonetheless.

You squeal, freeze like a deer in headlights when he comes into vision, failing to scramble away when he snatches you by the calf to keep you still.

The warmth radiating from his palm courses through your bones, makes you fuzzy and relaxed. Has you pliable when he sucks a gruff breath in and snatches you up, soft bleat making him growl lowly in his chest.

He’s so warm, smells of smoke and sweat that drives you crazy. Makes heat coil in your stomach and eyes go half-lidded with drowsiness.

He’s impossibly big, broad shoulders under your palms, soft pudge smashed against your hips, and a wide arm covered in dark coarse hair pining you to him. Has a beard too, full and thick, covered in that scent that has you fantasizing turning your cheeks raw with how much you nuzzle into it.

You don’t question where he’s taking you, couldn’t run with the distant throb in your ankle, not that you really wanted to with the warm admiration growing in your chest. Gaze fixed on the side of his face, shiver shooting down your spine at the sharpness of his features.

“What’s your name?” You manage to murmur.

“Price.” He grunts, low growl in the back of his throat. The gruffness of his words sends a blanket of drowsiness over you. Rumble that you feel against your chest has your tail swishing, rubbing against his forearm. You bleat at the feel, love your fur against the roughness of his own.

He looks at you then, has your ears flattening, tail moving quicker. Gulp at the bulging vein in his neck and sweat collected at his brow. You imagine licking it off.

Your name tumbles past your lips even though he never asked, heart squeezing when he turns away with a clench of his jaw. A heavy paw pets at your ears. Makes you shiver and whine softly, has you melting into his shoulder with a yawn.

“Big day f’r ya tomorrow, little doe.” He rasps, settles his paw at your neck till you fall asleep. Keeps his twitchy and too-easy trusting little mate pressed to his chest until he makes it to his cabin. Room smokey with half blown out candles and a lit fire place, windows covered, pantry stocked, and once he locks the door behind him, no one goes out.

You hum lowly in your throat against his neck, puff soft breaths that have something hot and angry boiling in Price’s chest. Make him chuff and uneasy until you’re tucked into his chest and buried in his bed. Covered and protected in his scent, Price rumbles with satisfaction, noses into your neck so he can fall asleep to the one thing he’s been waiting for.

You wake with a start. Throw off whatever’s covering you because you’re burning alive. Would panic about the glue that keeps your eyes closed, but it takes everything out of you just to sluggishly peel off your sweat ridden clothes.

Wake up sometime later with slow blinks to a ceiling, exhaustion so heavy behind the back of your eyes that your eyes flutter shut for just a second and you’re sleep again.

You rouse with the sound of snoring. Obnoxious bellows that end with a low growl, make you huff and puff into a sitting position. Palm at your face to see past the sleepies in your eyes. Room covered in soft light from a dozens of candles and Price who’s so loud you fall back onto his pillow of an arm to shove at his chest.

Contact making your skin prickle and now you only notice you’re somehow naked. Nipples pebbled and legs so slick from the furious throb between your legs. He doesn’t even stir, you pout, shake his chest and run your palms through his soft fur.

Mind so dazed and thoughts soft around the edges, you don’t even blink an eye at your situation. It feels so natural to be curled into Prices side, only when he’s quiet though. A hum sings in the back of your throat as you fight the need to shove the covers down his stomach to feast on the pudge of it just so you can get him to shut up.

“Price.” You whine, bawl escaping your throat and boy he jumps up then. Eyes quick to find and scan over you before huffing and rolling from his back to sling a heavy arm around your waist. Face so close that your tail sings.

“What?” He chuffs, voice gruff with sleep and eyes glazed as they drift to your chest. His hand paw at your waist, callouses scraping over your back.

You bleat, arch your chest forward at the attention and almost forget your words till you scramble your thoughts back. “Stop snoring. Too loud.” You huff.

Price growls, makes your instinct howl as you flatten to the bed, but your tail never stops flickering. Hands finding purchase at the hair that covers his chest, mewl at the smell of him blanketing you.

He leans down, presses his nose to your nipple and chuffs as he takes in your smell. You keen at the quick breaths caressing your skin, sends pulses between your legs. Tail working in quick speed when he laves a languid strip across your nipples. Tongue big and rough, scraps at your skin and makes you mush.

Soft tuffs of air snort from your nose as you fight against the sleep that tugs at your mind. Chirp and dig your nails into his thick hair when he nuzzles his beard into your skin.

You reawaken and doze off dozens of times before you’re finally able to keep your eyes open for longer than a second. Don’t know how long you’ve been there and don’t really question it because Price feels so good pressed against you. So warm and soft and you’d want to curl into his skin if you could.

Pinned to the bed now, Price pressed firmly to your back and the feel of his chest hair rubbing against you makes you moan lowly. Has Price stirring awake and shoving his face to your neck.

“Price.” You whine, body shuddering and legs slipping against each other. Need coiling in your stomach that fuels the raise of your hips.

Price growls, paws at your hips and fits his heavy cock between your ass. You bleat pathetically, keen at the throb of his cock. Mind buzzing as you blabber. “Inside, inside.”

Price braces a heavy arm at the side of your head, hand skimming a slow trail down your back to knock a knuckle against your wagging tail, draws a chirp and shudder from you before lining himself up.

“Big stretch coming, little doe.” He rasps into the ears at your head, has your spine locking up and when he slowly pushes in you bawl loudly, braining whiting out and when you nod back to reality, your body’s lurching forward in a steady rhythm.

Lewd, wet slaps echoing in your ear until your mind clears of the dazed fog to register the loud, broken moans tumbling from your lips.

Price groans, settles his weight on your back and gives short, sharp thrusts into your sloppy cunt. Every push in you swear you can feel him in your throat.

He chuffs into your ears, makes them twitch and send shock waves to your clit. Price can feel the brush of your tail against his stomach, drives him mad, makes him really put his back into it.

There’s a delicious burn from how wide Price stretches you. Feeling surging through your body every time he humps into you. Has sweat collecting on your brow, hands finding purchase on the bed sheets. Eyes rolling at the flex of his forearms at either side of your head.

Your nipples rub against the bed every times Price sends you forward, has your mind buzzing and hand flying up to his wrist braced in front of you. Admiring how small you are to him, how rough and hairy he is.

Quick pants adding to the heat coiling around you two. A thin layer of perspiration coating both your bodies that allows your scents to mix into the air, drive you both lightheaded.

You keen, clit slamming just right into the bed when Price slams hard, whines when he lifts your hips away and higher to get a better angle at your womb. Hopes that his seed will catch and you’ll be big and swollen with his cubs come spring.

He grunts and growls, sound sent right into your ears. Works you up and has you babbling. “Feels so good, Price.” You hiccup through tears blurring your vision. “So big and warm! ‘M so full.”

“Daddy.” He growls with a sharp thrust into your leaky pussy. One that travels up your spine and makes you woozy. “Call me Daddy, doe.”

You squeal, flutter around him at his authority. Chant his name in your mind until it bubbles from your throat, tear slipping down your cheek.

“Fuck.” Price croaks down into the space between you both, eyes on the froth collecting at the base of his cock from your needy cunt.

Head falling onto the bed, too tired to keep it up. Mouth opening and moaning so drool leaks out onto Prices fingers.

“Cock hungry deer.” He seethes, gripping your jaw to smash your lips together. You do your best to keep up, but the fierceness of Price’s movements makes drool slip down your chin and teeth clink together. Beard scratching your face and making you squeeze around him.

Price licks the strip of combined saliva off your chin and spits it back in your mouth, watches you gulp it down before quickening his pace.

You feel him so deep inside you, pussy stretched wide around his bulging cock. You whine when you feel him a little too much, tell him to slow down and he only laughs.

“Is Daddy’s cock being mean, baby? Too rough for your little pussy? But you’re sucking Daddy in so good baby, you sure you want me to slow down?” He coos, brushes his beard against your sensitive ears.

“No, Daddy. Please don’t stop. It’s feels s’good!”

You moan, his scent making your ass push higher into his thrusts, upcoming orgasm making you whiny, hips fucking back into him.

Price groans when he shifts off you, mesmerized at the sight of you pushing back into him that for a second he stops, has to grind his teeth together to stop from cumming into you too early. Watches you moan mindlessly with your eyes clenched shut, back arched as you shove your ass into his hips. Curse at the jiggle of yours hips, can tell you’re gonna cum the way you flutter around him, so he bullies his cock into you with long, quick thrusts, grunts and clenches his jaw with each jerk forward.

“Cum with me, little doe. Gonna blow my load inside you. Get you to give Daddy a baby.“

You squeal when you cum, pussy squeezing so tightly that one last lazy thrust from Price is all it takes for him to spill into you with a groan. Teeth sinking into your neck during your orgasm that you don’t even feel it, only catch Price laving at the spot as you huff tiredly against the bed.

Hot and sweaty and buzzing with satisfaction, Price slumps against you, doesn’t pull out to make sure his cum stays inside of you for a good while. Gives a shallow thrust for good measure that makes you both groan.

You feel his cum leak out, shiver despite the furnace at your back and mewl softly. Price licks up sweat lacing your neck and chuffs into the crease of it, lulls you to sleep to dream of your stomach big and round.

Wake up again later to Price fingering his fallen cum back into your pussy, makes you cum on his fingers before eating it out of you and testing your resistance at your back door. Only squeak initially before relaxing once his finger breaches through.

They imagined bringing you into their game, into their fold. You were already a part of their charade, but they wanted to be official. Price wouldn’t want to revert to getting you all pretty and hot in your sleep. And Johnny didn’t want to resort to openly grabbing you possessively whenever he got the opportunity.  

After a rough first mission, you felt scared but accomplished. You were shaky in your room, trying to calm down and recuperate. You hoped you proved yourself to the team while being glad to get out alive alongside them.  

You went to find the others. It was rarely quiet, and tonight it seemed somewhat lively. You steeled yourself and headed to the common room where Kyle, Johnny, and a few others gathered in a circle.  

“Hey guys.” You spoke. Johnny looked up at you. “Hey, Serg.”   

Kyle gave you a devilish smile as he spun the bottle.   

John chuckled when it landed on him. “Oh, a shame.”   

“Such a shame.” Kyle leaned forward, John taking Kyle’s neck gently. Their kiss was deep and desperate, more than just friends stealing a mischievous peck on the lips.  

Kyle broke the kiss, smirking. He leaned back in the chair and looked at you. “You wanna play?”  

“You can say no. But we promise we’re good.” John assured; his voice was low. You blushed softly. What would your superiors think? You’d surely get in trouble if they caught you. They’d scold you; you were new.  

“No thanks, I’m good.” You smiled and headed back out of the room, Johnny spinning the bottle again.  

You wandered down the quiet hallways. It wasn’t odd not to see your superiors. Ghost was elusive and Price couldn’t be bothered.

You stopped without thinking, looking toward the dark room. Price was sitting in his office with the desk light on, smoke filtering away from the cigar between his lips.  

In the opposite chair was another foreboding figure. Ghost sat as a dark mass in the dim room, his colossal frame hunched in the chair. He lifted his drink to his lips and took another sip as Price whispered things you couldn’t catch.  

You could smell the powerful odor of the cigar from there, and it made a fire in your lungs start as if sharing the feeling Price was inhaling for himself.  

Ghost grunted a little and then stopped. Price also stopped, and you felt your heart clench and jump. Ghost slowly turned his head toward the door, staring at you with his blank. He resembled too much of an owl from where he was. “Sergeant.”  

You winced, feeling yourself fidgeting. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”   

Price put his cigar between his lips and motioned you in. “Figured you’d be with the others, no?”  

“No, uh, spin the bottle, sir.”  

“They get rowdy. We all do.” Price took a drag of his cigar, looking over at Ghost. Ghost hummed quietly, his eyes drifting between you and John, setting his glass on the desk. “You’ll have to get used to it. They pick up on our bad habits.”  

You frowned but nodded. As you examined the room, your eyes fell onto Ghost’s strained posture. How he was, his legs spread apart, the print in his pants tensing up along his hip. Even in the darkness, you could clearly see that Ghost was dealing with... something.  

You swallowed thickly, realizing what you’d walked in on between the two men.   

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to walk in on anything intimate-”  

“You don’t have to leave, darling,” Price's tone was low but firm. “If you want to stay, we wouldn’t mind.”  

Was that why Kyle and John got off so easily? Able to play spin the bottle and mess around all they wanted? The realization, that you slowly put the pieces together made you feel strangely excited.   

“You’re right in time.” Price shifted back and patted his lap. He took a drag of his cigar. His lap in his tight pants made that fire from the smell of his cigar, thick and suffocating, only twice as bad. Ghost watched you as you walked over, feeling warmth beneath your collar.  

“Good.” Price said, his hand coming up to hold your hip when you got close enough to him. “I want all my soldiers to know who they answer to.” His tone sent a chill through your bones, making your spine tingle. “Yes, sir... But John and Kyle-?”  

“Shh, never mind them... They’ll come when they’re needed.”  

Ghost shifted in his seat and pressed up into his hand. Something about you in Price’s arms, coaxed into their fold, brought under their wing for guidance excited him. As much as it had when Price brought forth this deal to the three of them early on.  

“That’s it, Sergeant. Get comfortable.” Price touched your waist, stroking his thumb over your hip. Brushing it over your pants, feeling the fabric that clung to you, jealous of its place against your warm skin.  

“I hope we’re not scaring you, Sergeant.”  

“No...” You swallowed, his touch getting you warm. His hands roamed you freely, knowing without having to ask that you’d have no interest in getting up. “Have you been with anyone on the Task Force?” He whispered. The smell of smoke and thick musk on his clothes and skin.  

“No ...”  

“Ah, that’s no good.”  

“We’ll get Johnny and Kyle soon.” Ghost spoke from the darkness. His gaze was cold and calculated, but it only made you hotter. Your cheeks were warm as Price unbuttoned your cargos and pushed them down, feeling the mesh of your underwear.  

“We’re gentle, we always are with our sergeants.” Price assured, reached a hand around to gently grope the skin of your stomach. His calloused hand squeezed and kneaded, fingers drifting over the fabric of your core, enjoying hearing those little breaths and feeling those squirms.  

Ghost stood up, undoing his pants and pushing them down. He sat in his boxers, his cock hard and pressed against the material. You watched his hand press down against the outline of his shaft resting over his strong left thigh.  

You shifted and looked down at Price’s hand. He was gentle and careful, not wanting to scare you. “You’re so pretty, Sergeant.”  

“Thank you, Sir.”  

He hummed, gently brushing your hair back with his free hand. He brushed it to the side and breathed warm puffs of air against your neck. “I remember when Kyle and I were here... So timid.” He smiled. “Now I couldn’t imagine being with any other.”  

Ghost grunted, his hand rubbing up and down. You blushed, leaning into Price’s hold. He smiled and rubbed the skin of your thigh. “Do you want to stay?”  

“Yes, Sir.”  

“Good soldier. You know what we do to pretty things, darling?” He leaned in, kissing your neck. His beard against your warm skin made your breath hitch. “We break them.” His tongue was warm, pressing against the soft flesh of the vein along your neck, kissing into it. Up against your ear, teeth biting into the flesh.  

Ghost let out a shaky sigh as he watched, his hand stroking over his clothed shaft.  

“We’ll take care of you. We promise.”  

“Yes, sir...”  

Price pulled you a little closer, dipping his hand into your underwear, groping along the warmth of your skin. The warmth below your panties shot straight to Price’s cock, groping along the skin, teasing the both of you with the teasing touches. You whined, arching and shifting. Price shushed you, grinding your ass against his lap, his own excitement pooling into his groin. “Give us those moans.”  

Your feverish gaze turned to Ghost. His rough hand dragged over the print of his cock, stroking it in his underwear. His gaze was so intense you felt obligated to watch.  

He looked you up and down. “Don’t be shy, Sergeant.”  

He pulled his cock from his briefs, foreskin pulled taut along his thick cock, head hanging slightly from the hold he had. The length looked heavy in his rough fist. The hair that trailed up from the thick base of his cock disappeared up under his compression shirt. “Look at what you’ve done to me.”  

Your lips parted with a soft shudder. “I...”  

“Yeah, you did this to me,” He growled, stroking his heavy cock. The way his fist moved along his cock, foreskin in abundance around his fat head, it had your mouth watering. He bit his lip and moaned quietly from his own excitement getting to him.  

Price smiled and dipped his fingers deeper into your panties, knocking your legs apart over his own to rub at your hard clit, the slick of his fingers rubbing your labia. The mess your cunt was making had him biting his lip. The warm, wet feeling made him feel in power over you.  

“Such a pretty and wet little pussy...” He growled.  

Ghost grunted, stroking himself faster at Price’s words. He watched you squirm in Price’s arms, your lower body stimulated by his skilled, rough fingers. Digging softly into your flesh and pulling it just enough to get to what he wants. His cock grows throbbing hard against his thigh, pressing up against your butt.  

Your eyes were heavy, and you struggled to breathe normally with your situation. You whined, reaching a hand down to his wrist. “Easy, soldier.” Price growled lowly.  

“Please...!” you moaned.  

“Oh, you beg so sweet...”  

Ghost paused his ministrations and walked over, his cock hanging between his thighs. Your gaze flicked up to him as he drew closer, towering over you. It had you torn between looking into his intense stare or at his drooling cock feet from your lips. You whimpered, leaning in toward his cock, looking up at him to give him what he wanted.  

“Got the same enthusiasm as Johnny.” Ghost muttered. He brought his fat cockhead to your warm lips. The pre-cum leaking from his cock dripped onto your lips. It was thick, and there was a lot. You crooned your neck forward and lapped at the fluid, it left a bittersweet taste on your tongue. Ghost smacked his cock against your bottom lip, letting the pre-cum drip in abundance onto your hot tongue.  

Price squeezed your hip with one hand, the other with his knuckles dripping in your juices. “Yer cunts so eager,” he said in a low tone. “Been wanting us since you got here?”  

Price grinned, leaning closer to breathe against your ear while you took Ghost’s cock hesitantly into your mouth.  

“Don’t be shy now...” Ghost urged, his hand brushing back your hair. Your lips wrapped around his cock, tongue swirling the leaking head and suckling at it.  

“Yeah, go on, take his cock, love.” Price’s hand pressed the pad of his finger against your clit. Your cunt clenched and pulsed as Ghost forced himself further down your gullet.  

Price leaned you forward and unzipped his pants, freeing his cock from against his thigh. He smacked it up against your dripping labia and kissed his tip to your delicate cunt. He squeezed his length and guided himself to your tight hole. His ragged gasp of surprise chilled Ghost’s spine as Price’s cock pressed into your slit.   

It was hot enough in the office to make humidity drip down the walls, Price’s long discarded cigar still a smoking gun on the ashtray on the desk. Your hand moved to Price’s firm grip on your hip, digging into his wrist for purchase.   

A faint star of ecstasy sparkled in the corners of your eyes, and your throat contracted along Ghost’s shaft, making him groan out loud. The feeling was unlike any other. Ghost pushing further down your throat, desperate for more, and Price coaxing deeper inside your warm cunt.  

Fuck, darling.” Price moaned, unable to hold back as he thrust into you. His cock soaked in your juices, the walls of your pussy contracting around him. He looked down, watching the inner lining of your cunt drag against his cock when he shifted out and pressed back in steadily.  

Your eyes widened at the feel of him, so large and thick. The way he filled you made you shiver, sending pleasant shocks rippling throughout your body. You whimpered against Ghost’s cock, tasting his pre-cum rolling down your throat.  

Ghost stared in awe as Price slowly fucked you, your body clenching and unclenching around his girth. His hips shifted, driving deep into you. A guttural moan escaped your lips, vibrating around Ghost’s shaft.  

Price’s smirk grew wider. His eyes locked on your intense gaze. “Keep it together, soldier,” he growled, his voice wavering in lust. He gave your butt a playful slap.  

Each thrust of Price’s hips sent another pulsing shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. Your moans and cries of encouragement filled the tense silence, urging them on. Ghost could see the glistening wetness of your cunt from where he stood, the way your swollen folds stretched around Price’s thick cock.  

Your eyes were now locked onto Ghost’s, and he could see the raw desire there, fueling his movements. You reminded him so much of Johnny, he could envision those soft blue eyes welling with tears, the two of you learning to share his cock. His lips buried in Ghost’s groin, while you suckled on your head. He’d thread his fingers through Johnny’s hair and tug him closer, telling the both of you how good you were doing. Spurred on by the sounds of Kyle taking Price’s cock across from them.  

Beyond your discomfort, you couldn’t deny the unwavering truth. You desperately craved this, ached for this. You endured every bruise, every cut, and every ounce of pain for this moment, all in the name of a single goal. The moment where you would no longer be a pawn, but a player in this game.  

Your legs shook and your cunt leaked, but Price’s firm thighs kept your legs apart and his hands fixed firmly on your hips. Your back strained and arched, trying to find some semblance of control, but you had nothing.  

Ghost groaned, his hand coming to grab your jaw. He pressed his thumb into the sensitive dip just under your jawbone and held you in place, his cock sinking in and out between your lips. You choked, inhaling sharply as his cock fisted deep into your throat. He groaned, his cock throbbed against your cheek, and he thrust in at an angle, cumming into your mouth. “Fuck-”  

He gasped, his hips jerking as every muscle in his body tightened. The warm spurts of his release coated the back of your throat, and you swallowed them eagerly, savoring the taste of his essence. As he pulled away, the last bouts of his cum landing across your chin, he nodded his approval, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.  

Your entire body tensed, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. You could feel Price’s cockhead hitting your end, stretching you to the point of molding you to him. A moan bubbled up from your throat, mingling with Ghost’s cum, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.  

“That’s right, darling, come for me,” Price growled, his thrusts became erratic. “Let go, soldier.” He smacked his hand across your ass to encourage you in his thrusts.  

Your orgasm was like a bomb going off, spreading waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. Your muscles clenched around Price’s cock, drawing a hoarse cry from him. You cried, your thighs trembling and pulling up, squirming and wanting to close them together as you came.   

Price smacked your ass, gripping the soft flesh, and pulled you off his cock, thick cum launching across your back. He raggedly inhaled, stroking his cock against your skin, the last of his cum bubbling out and dripping down your warm skin.   

You shook within his arms. Your knees felt weak, and your head swam. Saliva dripped down your chin, breathing heavily from the wave of your orgasm. The two men also relaxed. Price set you back and reached for some tissue on his desk. He rubbed your side and kissed your nape while he cleaned you up a bit. All three of your ragged breaths filled the air. No words needed to be spoken. Your bodies had done it for you.   

From that night, you understood your relationship with the team differently. During the day, you were a team. Price would chew you out. Ghost would make sure his brats stayed in line. But in the evening, everything was free rein. Kyle and John would disappear somewhere or Ghost dragging Johnny off after a bad day. You watched them as they each interacted. Price and Ghost directed most of their attention towards you.

Ghost was gentle more frequently than he was rough. Every word was based on praise for whoever was on their knees for him. While Price was not afraid to be rough with you, even if you asked, Ghost held back. You could see it. He had a routine he was comfortable with, and fuck, you weren’t complaining either way.  

But don’t think Johnny and Kyle would let the escape slide. When they heard Price and Ghost talking about it the next morning, they were right pissed. They hadn’t been told. Why weren’t they invited to the party??

You were finishing up some chores in your room when the door opened. Your head snapped up, and you looked back, about to speak, when you saw the two. “Johnny, Kyle?”  

They looked you up and down, evaluating you. “You fucked our superiors.” Kyle said bluntly.   

Your mouth fell open, and you blushed deeply. “I-”  

“Didn’t know you were such a slut, Serg.” Johnny crossed his arms, walking closer. You blushed and hid shyly in your chair. “I am not.” You whispered, and he leaned over in your face. Kyle closed the door and gave you a pearly white smirk. “What about us? Are we not as exciting for you?”  

“No, no- I’m sure you’re great.”  

Kyle came to the other side of the chair, blocking you in. “Oh, we’re a party.” Johnny gave you the invite. If you wanted out, fine, poor them. They’d just go pathetically jerk off their boners somewhere else.  

They were waiting...  

Johnny had positioned himself so that his erection pressed against the chair on your left, his dick aching for your touch. Kyle was on your right, his eyes burning into yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You relaxed in the chair, your stomach fluttering with butterflies as you reached over to rub the seam of Johnny’s cargos. He bit his bottom lip in anticipation. Your hand moved lower over the seam until you were stroking over the strained fabric of his cock, bulging against his thigh with growing anticipation.   

Beside you, Kyle reached his hand over and squeezed your tit through your loose shirt, pesky clothes. He leaned down, tilting your face toward him and melting your lips against his like cream. He inhaled and pressed his tongue past your soft, plump lips. You groaned, the kiss deep and slow. Johnny reached down to keep your slowing hand stroking over his erection. Kyle slipped his hand down your shirt, finding his way to your tits while his tongue played with yours.  

Your lips and tongue eagerly sought the wet heat of Kyle’s, His more tactile approach riling you up as his cock strained against his pants. Johnny’s hips bucked involuntarily, and he groaned into his hand. If Price or Ghost found out, they’d be dead meat. Ghost would probably make him regret it with a less-than-gentle pounding, but Ghost knew his boy could handle it.  

You briefly pulled away from Kyle and looked at Johnny, seeing the desperation on his face. “Want more?” You asked.  

Johnny’s eyes flared with lust, and he nodded eagerly. “Fuck, just... take it out.”  

You leaned over and undid his pants, seeing the runny wet spot soaking his briefs. You slipped your hand in and pulled out Johnny’s erect cock, freeing it from his constricting pants. His cock was a mess. Runny pre-cum drooling down the shaft, oozing like a fountain down over your fist, and dripping between your knuckles. Kyle chuckled, “And you’ve barely done anything.” His breath was hot and his voice heavy in your ear, idling there, but nothing more.   

Johnny shuddered when he felt your hand on his cock. It was the thrill of something new, his heart pounding in his chest, going behind Simon’s back and taking what he wanted, taking his toy and ruining it before giving it back.  

Your eyes fluttered open, heavy with desire and lust. Your breaths came in harsh ministrations, trying to regulate the hot flips your stomach kept doing.  

Kyle squeezed your tits, reminding you of how much he wanted you. His lips met yours again, this time with more passion and fire. Johnny’s hand never left your grasp, guiding you over his throbbing erection. You couldn’t help but moan into Kyle’s mouth when you felt his hand move down between your legs and brush against your damp core. Your cunt ached, the reminisce of the other day still fresh in your mind and making you a desperate, slutty mess for them.  

Delight filled Kyle. He inhaled your moans, pressing deeper into the sloppy kiss as his fingers dipped between your panties to your soaked cunt. His fingers rubbed against your labia and down to your slit, feeling your cunt contract and clench onto you. He easily slipped in a couple of fingers, curling up and making your body arch, your toes curling.  

“Kyle-” You gasped between his lips, your hand tightening on John’s sloppy cock, still leaking pre-cum like it was an endless fountain. “Oh, dove-” Johnny bit his lip and bucked into your hand, squeezing your wrist and fucking into it like a fleshlight in your fist.  

You broke away from the kiss, panting and eyes wide with desire. “Fuck, boys, I can’t take it anymore.” You panted, your chest heaving with arousal as Kyle’s fingers continued to work their magic on your soaked pussy. Your hand twitched with the desire to touch yourself, but Kyle’s hold on your tits kept you grounded. Johnny’s cock, still at full attention, begged for your attention. 

Johnny chuckled, his voice low and filled with lust. “You want more, don’t you, slut? You want to feel our cocks sliding into you?” 

Kyle grinned deviously as he pulled back, his fingers still buried deep within your wet folds. 

Johnny groaned, a hand gripping your chin, turning your face towards him. “It’ll be my pleasure to make you cum, then.” 

They were so engrossed in themselves to break away from you. Kyle shifted down between your thighs and forced them open again, taking your pants and roughly tugging them down, sliding them off. 

“Kyle-” Before you could get a full sentence out, he was tearing your panties off your hips, pressing a soft kiss just under your belly button. “Don’t think we can’t be rough too, Princess?” He gave you his familiar pretty boy smile. Your cunt clenched, and you felt your impending orgasm. “Oh, fuck…” 

“Yeah, yeah, just lean back, princess.” Kyle squeezed your soft thighs and could feel the warmth radiating from your cunt. His wet tongue pressed flat against your clit, lips wrapping around it and giving you an experimental suck that made your mouth open in a silent moan. 

As his tongue continued to dance on your sensitive nub, you moaned and writhed in your seat, desperate for his touch. Johnny watched with mounting excitement, his dick aching for release. He knew this much-anticipated moment had finally arrived. 

“Kyle, can’t you speed it up a bit? I want to see her cum,” Johnny said, his voice thick with lust. 

Kyle batted his pretty eyelashes and danced his tongue across your pussy, tongue fucking inside you, letting his tongue do all the work. Your stomach rose and plunged, like someone blowing up a balloon just looking for an excuse to pop. “Kyle- fuck- stop-” 

“Mm-mm,” Kyle groaned softly. “Gotta make you cum before Soap gets his hands on you.” 

You whimpered and looked up at Johnny, his soft baby blues foggy with desperate lust for affection. Johnny couldn’t help it. He moved closer, his rock hard dick straining against his pants, aching for release. His eyes filled with lust and desire. He knew what he wanted, and it was up to you to give it to him.

Your thighs clenched and snapped shut. Kyle was able to get between you and force them back open. The knot inside your stomach snapped and your excited cry echoed through the room, your cunt aching around Kyle’s warm breaths. “That’s it…” He whispered, giving you a lick, tasting your orgasm on his tongue. 

You whimpered and closed your eyes, feeling like you’d just fallen off a cliff and were plummeting toward freezing icy waters. But your body was too hot, too sweaty. 

Their dirty talk was fueling the fire. You couldn’t help but say, “Fuck me... please.” 

Kyle looked up at you, licking his lips, getting as much of you as he could. He sucked his fingers clean and looked at Johnny instead of you.  

Kyle smiled wickedly. “I’ll let you make her cum Soap. All you gotta do is get that big cock of yours in her.” 

Johnny looked down at you, and in that moment, something changed. The playful lust transformed into raw, primal hunger. He reached for your hips, yanking you towards the edge of the chair. You screamed in protest and shock, but your body seemed to respond differently to this new intensity. 

Johnny’s eyes burned with desperation, and his fingers clenched around your thighs as he positioned himself at your entrance. You swallowed hard, unable to deny the ache that throbbed between your legs. His twitching, leaking cock pressed between your stomach and he guided his cock to your pussy, leaking pre-cum, mixing with your fresh orgasm. 

Johnny’s eyes locked onto your wide, pleading ones, and he knew he had to take what he wanted. “Are you sure about this, dove?” Johnny growled. “You know what you’re asking for?” 

You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. A shiver of fear and ecstasy ran down your spine as you nodded. Your toes curled and your pussy felt abused in the best way possible. But it wouldn’t stop. 

“Then take it,” Johnny snarled, thrusting into you with a roughness that sent a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. You cried out, your head falling back as he pounded into you mercilessly. 

Kyle watched from the side, his fingers biting into his palms as he fought the urge to join the wild fucking taking place. This was Soap’s moment, and he would enjoy every inch.  

Johnny’s face was a mask of intensity as he drove into you, his hips pounding against your soft body. Your breath hitched, your cries growing louder with each thrust. 

Sweat dripped from your bodies, mingling with the arousal and adrenaline as you moved together, your hips grinding and bucking against his pelvis as his hips worked away at you. 

Johnny moaned, his voice ragged with lust as he slammed into you, his cock stretching your tight pussy just right. Your cunt clenched around him, milking him with every thrust, making it impossible for him to hold back. Kyle watched with fascination, his cock aching for relief as you took Johnny’s rough love. He wanted to replace his best friend in your wet heat. But for now, he was content to watch. 

The two of you moved in a primal blur, your bodies slamming together, your moans and grunts filling the room. Johnny’s eyes locked on yours, his expression a mix of feral hunger and tender adoration. 

You clawed at Johnny’s back, your nails digging into his skin, desperately trying to hold on to him as he plowed into you. 

“Fuck, Soap!” You cried out, your voice trembling with each word. Your cunt clenched around his cock, the walls spasming as you felt the orgasm approaching. “Fuck, Kyle... please, let him cum in me!” 

Kyle looked up at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. He ran his hand down Johnny’s back, encouraging him to thrust harder, faster. Your eyes flickered back and forth between the two of them, witnessing the animalistic nature they’d taken on in this moment. Kyle’s hunger was palpable.

His throaty chuckles were like honey in your ears. “Give me your hand, princess.” You barely registered Kyle’s words, offering your sweaty palm up blindly to him. He unzipped his pants and dragged his cock across your palm. 

Johnny grunted. The stinging warmth of your nails across his back was intoxicating. He gripped your shoulder blades and hoisted you up with raw strength, hips fucking up into your perfect cunt. “Fuck dove… we’re gonna fill ya-” His cock ached and twitched, his cum shooting out and filling your aching womb. Your eyes rolled back, your toes curling and your cunt clenching. You cried through the feeling, feeling your second orgasm rip through you.

“Ah-” was all you managed before a warm chest was suddenly against your back. Your vision was blurry, and your cunt was sore and overstimulated when Kyle’s hands were wrapping around you, pulling you from Johnny. 

“Kyle- Kyle no- no-” Your pleads held no actual strength to them. “Didn’t you hear him, princess? I’m not done with you until I come too.” 

You whimpered and struggled against Kyle’s hold, but he was relentless. His cock pulsed with need, and he knew what he wanted. He positioned himself behind you, your aching, cum-filled pussy dripping with their juices. 

He whispered in your ear, his breath hot and moist, “You’re just begging for me, princess. I’ll make sure your pussy knows it’s me.”  

He slid into you smoothly, your walls still quivering from Johnny’s deep thrusts. You cried out, the sensation of being filled once more making your body tremble. 

Kyle fucked you slowly at first, savoring the feel of your tight, cum-soaked pussy clinging to his cock. As he thrust into you, he could feel Johnny’s cum leaking out, coating his cock and your inner walls. 

Your head fell back against Kyle’s shoulder, and your trembling hands grabbed onto him for purchase as you felt his thrusts grow deeper and rougher, stretching your cunt wider in a way that almost felt impossible.  

Kyle’s thrusts gained momentum and soon he was pounding into you relentlessly, filling your pussy with his cock to the hilt. Your screams of pleasure echoed through the room as both Johnny and Kyle ravaged your body. “Fuck, you’re so tight, princess,” Kyle groaned. His hips slammed into your ass, his balls slapping against your sensitive skin. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”  

You couldn’t help but moan in response, your body writhing beneath the grip of the two men. The pleasure overwhelmed your poor little dripping cunt, their rough hands exploring your body, Kyle’s thrusts growing more frenzied. 

Johnny reached between your legs, grabbed your clit, and rubbed it with his thumb. Your body convulsed at the added sensation as Kyle’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you back onto him as he drove deeper into your cum-soaked pussy.

Tears filled your eyes from the overstimulation and spilled down your cheeks, desperate for reprieve. Until Kyle forced you down onto his cock again, cum squirting and leaking from his cock, joining Johnny inside your aching, spoiled cunt. Your breaths echoed together, your small hics and sobs, your trembling, and your sweat-covered skin was the product of them. 

Your vision swam as Johnny and Kyle helped you onto the floor, your legs feeling weak. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and disbelief at what had just happened. 

Johnny and Kyle sat there, their breathing still heavy and their eyes still glazed over with lust. They looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. 

“Well, dove,” Johnny began, his voice still rough from his orgasm, “I think we’ve worn you out for the night.” 

You managed a small laugh and looked up at Johnny and Kyle, feeling a surprising sense of affection for them. “You could say that. I never knew I could feel like this.” 

Kyle chuckled, a warm smile spreading across his face. “I think there’s a lot you haven’t experienced yet.” 

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you imagined all the possibilities that lay ahead. 

Simon’s laughing at the state of you in the crevice of your neck. He adored to see you absolutely wrecked for him. Overstimulated from cumming too much or edging you till you were babbling, whimpering mess. He scuff, pushing your pretty curls out of your face to properly look at you, relentlessly ramming every inch he could into your sweet spot, you slapped at his shoulder and swore it was all ‘too much’ and how ‘you couldn’t cum anymore.’ But there you were, still a moaning mess, cunt still clinging onto his manhood for dear life and dripping down his thighs.

With a ‘thwack’ to your tender clit, and a tight grip on you’re throat,

“Fucks sake, just shut up and cum already.”

You don’t even know what the fuck is happening to you when you cum. Legs shaking, stomach turning into knots, mouth agape because the moan won’t let itself out. And then you feel it, warm fluid hitting your cervix while Simon’s tip pulses inside you. You pass out for God knows how long, but Simon is yanking you out of the darkness by playfully flicking your temple. You’re still subbed out, immediately going to cling to him like you always do. He’d hum at the action, loved his needy baby. That’s when the soft comes out.

“Did good for me princess. Always been my good girl.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, long day tomorrow, yeah?”

a/n: Simon’s an aggressive lover, it’s true. It’s science.

A calamitous decision, he knows. Terrible. But—

Despite it all, you're good at what you do. Brilliant. A budding rose germinating in fecund soil. You'll grow into something wild, won't you? Something untamed. 

Under his hands, you'll bloom the prettiest. He knows this deep in his bones. But—

“You're breaking the rules, Captain—”

—pedantic little thing, aren't you? 

Obediently following the wrong master. 

It irks him. He's been known to step on the toes of his superior officers for less, caustic words hissing foul from between his teeth. 

But unlike them, you're worth something. Even as the moral antithesis to his utilitarian dogma, he sees your potential. How you can shape this world dangling on a brittle thread if you lay down your senseless principles and follow him. Listen to him. 

But of course, you don't. 

And he supposes he ought to have known better. It's dripping gasoline over an open flame. The sequence of events is easily premeditated, seen, when you refuse to listen to what he says (“it's against the law, Price!”), walking away from him, his team, the mission, and take matters into your own, morally righteous hands. Bringing his underhanded methods to the desk of your superior officer, demanding he be investigated for crimes. The result is a loose warning from someone in a suit several sizes too big for them, and your fury when he pulls you back, has you assigned to another mission with the 141, with himself. Preens at your glower when you march back into his office, into his hands. 

In the fallout, he has no one to blame but himself, really. Anyone could have seen this coming. But the thing about shirking his morality in favour of a better outcome—above all else—is that he doesn't have to. 

And so, he doesn't. 

No. He blames you. 

(How perfect for him, then, that there's no one on base except you and him.)

“If you think I'm not going to report you again if you do something illegal, Price, you're wrong.”

He scoffs, shaking his head at your fucking audacity. 

"Better watch that mouth of yours, Sergeant, or you won't like what happens next." 

His palm itches when you look up, offering him a slow, feline blink. Leonine eyes creasing at the corners. 

"And what is that, sir? I'm just doing my job—" it's whispered breathlessly, all faux professionalism even as jest leaks down your brow. They pinch, then. Drawing together in a mockery of confusion. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do?" 

"What is that, mm?" He mocks, arms folding over his chest. He has to breathe through his nose for a moment. Gather himself together before he does something reckless, something like— 

It's the defiant little jut of your chin that does him in. That unravels this fraying knot of control until threads slip through his fingers. Falling too fast for him to clench down on them. 

He's threatened his superiors for far less. His kin, teammates. You have no one to blame but yourself for this, really. No one at all when he pulls his hand from where it's tucked under his armpit, curling rough, worn fingers around your wrist. Pulls you close, wrenching you into his chest until your nose bumps the buckle of his vest. 

"'m'gonna take you over my fuckin' knee, is what's going to happen." 

Your swallow is a gunshot. “You—you wouldn't dare—”

He leans in close, closer still. Breath scorching over your cheek. Preening when you bare your little teeth at him. “Wanna bet on that, Sergeant?” 

It's easier than he would have expected to wrangle you over his knee, pinning you down with an arm across your lower back. The height of his chair keeps your front bent, belly pressed against his thigh. Ass seated perfectly in his lap. Precious gem. 

He hums low in his throat, teeth sinking into the butt of his cigar as he locks you tight against him. Grabbing your wrist, twisting it up behind your back. Holding steady. A warning. 

The dangerous twinge in your bone stills you. 

One wrong move and he'd snap it in half. 

This has you taking a different approach, legs falling limp over the armrest. Head dropping over the other side. Malleable in his grasp—however artificial it is.

“Price—” you breathe, winded. Panic on a spindle. “What are you—what do you think you're doing—?”

He hums, mouth tense around the cigar. Words muffled, slurred. “What I should have done a long time ago.” 

“What—hey!”

Your words pepper off into a choked scream when his other hand falls to the hem of your pants, grabbing the fabric in his fist. The shock fades into indignation. Anger. He tastes it in the air as your hips squirm, legs kicking at nothing. Furious little growls spilling from your lips as you thrash, unconcerned by the ache in your bone. 

“Better keep still, love,” he taunts, mouth curling over his teeth as he twists his hand high, higher, up the small of your back until your fingers brush the skin between your shoulder blades. Any more and he'll break it—

“I'm going to fucking—!” It ends on a whine. A whimper. The pain makes you shiver. “Fuck, fuck—stop, stop, ow, stop—!”

“Not a fan of a little pain then, mm?” 

Your breath is ragged. Paints the air in a fine mist of defeat. He has you. The only option out of this is breaking your bone, a threshold no one is willing to cross. 

Price purses his lips back around the cigar, inhaling once, thrice, before he slips his fingers out of the hem of your trousers, reaching up to take hold of the cigar. It's all so matter-of-fact. So nonchalant when he places it in the ashtray. When he brings his heavy, warm hand back to your ass, curling his fingers beneath the fabric. Pulling. Tugging. 

They come off easier than he'd expected. A harsh tug, and the cleft of your ass is revealed. Plush skin curving enticingly as he rips them down to mid-thigh—panties and all. 

The shock fades back into indignation. You hiss something foul under your breath that makes him huff out a chuckle. 

“Not really in the position for that, are you, love?” 

“Shut up—”

He likes the way you sound like this. Feral. Furious. There's ash in your throat. It blots soot around each word, giving them weight. Gone is the woman who barged into his office, sniffing like you smelled something foul. Backing him into a corner. Sputtering in his face about rules. Regulation. 

Now you're bare-assed, panting, in his lap. Small little fawn in the maw of a bear. But oh, do you fight back—

Teeth bared, indignation bleeding into embarrassment, blotting pink in the whites of your eyes.

The sight is hewn into his hindbrain. 

“Look at you,” he purrs, petting your cheeks. “Been beggin’ to be bent over my knee since you got here, haven't you?” 

“Begging? Don't be—ahh!”

He brings his hand down with a small huff, eyes glued to your flesh. Watching it shake under his hand. The width of one swallowing up an entire cheek. So big is he that you're nearly made infinitesimal in his clutch. The thought makes him groan.

You squirm more in shock than discomfort. Head craning over your shoulder, eyes misting over with tears. Glaring at him. 

“What the fuck, Price!”

He strokes your skin, feeling the heat of your flesh bleed through his palm. Resilient little thing, aren't you? He huffs again, blood buzzing. Electric. There's a kindling fire in his guts. Embers sparking, catching. 

He can't deny how badly he's been wanting to have you like this. Craving your tears, your agony, your submission.

“Count,” he barks out, rough. Abrasive. “You're getting ten. Count ‘em for me, and if you miss one, I'm adding two more.”

“You're crazy, you're—!”

His hand comes down again. The impact shakes the fat of your ass. The strike makes you yowl, thrashing to get away. You don't get very far, still trapped in his hold. The threat of a broken bone keeps you from lashing out too wildly, and all you can really do is sit in his lap, and take it—

The notion has him groaning low in his throat. Something wicked spooling in his veins. Wanting. The sight of you heaving, bare-assed, and begging for mercy unleashes something inside of him. Something primal. Starving. 

Price takes a breath to steady himself, head buzzing. Heart pounding. It feels like the euphoria of nicotine—all bliss, sedation. Ease. 

Cathartic. 

“I said count,” he rasps, words cinder in his chest. Smoke. Dragged up from that burning pyre in his belly. Nocuous, hungry. “That's an order, Sergeant.” 

His hand is scorching against your skin. Thoughts turning over themselves as you hiccup in his lap. So pretty, he thinks, eyes flitting over to you. Taking in the sight of your shock, your denial. It tastes like fine wine on his tongue. Heady. 

“Here comes one—”

“One?”

“I told you, didn't I?” His nail rakes across your skin, cruel. Mean. Something preens when you gasp. Your pain perfuming the air. “M’addin’ two more if you don't count. Thought your speciality was listenin’?”

You scowl, twisting back to level him with an awful sneer. “Oh, fuck you—!”

His hand comes down again, harder this time. Vicious. The scream is tangled in your throat, gagged. He feels pleasure—dark and ugly—bloom in his chest, dripping, liquid, down the length of his spine. The twist of agony on your face is beatific. 

“Not gonna count?” He taunts, pinching your inflamed flesh between his thumb and forefinger. “We're gonna be here all day at this rate, love.”

He leans down, broad chest curling over the small of your back, hand cupped possessively over your cheeks. “But maybe you want that, mm? Maybe all this, mhm, insubordination has just been for show. You wanted this. Wanted to be taken over my knee—”

“You're wrong. I haven't—” it tapers off into a squeak when he pinches your flesh again. 

Price pulls back, breathes shallowly through his nose. 

“You and that smart fuckin' mouth. Told you it was gonna get you in trouble—”

He doesn't wait. His hand rears, and comes down with a loud smack that echoes in the sparse office he has you trapped inside. Your howl races alongside it, curling up the walls. Beautiful in all its agony. 

“Christ—” it's a dagger to his resolve. You sound so fucking good howling like this. Oscillating between feral anger and pain, hissing vitriol between clenched teeth. Choking on sobs. 

The first few are experimental. Testing the waters. Feeling. You're combative during it all. Fighting. Screaming. Each strike is uncounted, echoed only with a plea for help. One he knows won't come—

The only person on base is his Lieutenant. Ghost knows better than to barge in on his affairs. 

“No one's comin’, love,” he grunts, sweat beading along his hairline, dripping down his temple. The room heats along with the blood in his veins, stifling and oppressive. He reinforces each hit with more strength, increasing the tempo until you're screaming on his lap, begging for mercy, mercy, please, please, Price stop, stop—

Your skin raises with each new strike. Swelling. Becoming inflamed. The perfect imprint of his handprint sits on each cheek, edges intumescent. The globes shake, shuddering deliciously under each hit. 

He gets to eleven before you break. Tears streaming down your face, voice a threadbare whisper. Hoarse from screaming. 

His hand rains down, slaps your left cheek so hard it stings his hand. Burns. You whimper. Mewling. Squirming on his lap, and then—

“O–one—”

He grunts, feels himself thicken in his trousers. “Good girl.” 

You shudder, body breaking out in goosebumps. “Price—”

“Ah, ah, love. You're not allowed to speak unless you're counting.”

He hits you again, cock throbbing when you tense up, sniffling. Grinding out a soft two between trembling lips. 

You don't break the way he wants you to. There's a glare on your face despite the tears, the sniffles. A defiance that burns over the bridge of your nose. 

But that's fine. He has eight more strikes to ruin you, doesn't he? 

He sets to it with a low moan, your pelvis pressing taut to his tumid cock, the friction raging in his guts. 

But that, he finds, isn't really the point. No. The pleasure, the arousal, is secondary to the way you fall to pieces at his hand. Flesh stinging his palm with each loud smack that rings out sharply in the room. Uneven breaths. Shuddering little ah-ah-ahs that tumble out through clenched teeth. 

It's addictive, this. Therapeutic. 

There's static in his head. White noise. It renders everything else mute. Moot. Molasses drips down, thick and entrenching, congealing over every churning thought in the back of his head. There's a sense of peace, ease, he hasn't felt in years. In decades. 

He feels his belly knot each time your ass jiggles, skin bulging up from the trauma of being hit so harshly. Chafed under his palm. Welts forming in the shape of his hand. A tattoo you'll have for weeks when he's through with you. Aching each time you try to sit. And fuck—

You'll think of him. Of this. Being taken over his goddamn knee like the bad fucking girl you are. Broken in over his lap. Helpless. Submissive. 

The whimpers fade, replaced with shallow hiccups. Your throat is torn. Raw, ruined, by your screams, yowls. Each rasping whine sends jolts of pleasure down his spine. Liquid want molten in his marrow. 

“S–seven, nngh—”

The moan slips out—scorched, bleached—and drills deep into his loins. 

He peels his gaze away from your blistered skin, glancing at your face, but you duck from his view. Hide. Dropping your head over the armrest. Evading him. 

It's new, this. This meekness. 

You were so combative, so feral before. His gaze rakes down the expanse of your spine, over the curve of your cheeks, before settling, hot and heavy, at the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. You squirm in his lap, thighs sliding together. Rubbing. It's no different from before when he'd spank you, but—

He catches it. 

It glints in the soft light when you move, and he feels something dark, ruinous, curl in the tar-stained fibrils of his chest. Congealing in the crevasses. Hardening. 

Price flicks his tongue out, swiping over his lower lip. The bristles of his beard graze the soft flesh, prickling across it. His throat is suddenly dry. Parched. 

His hand comes down again, notably softer than the other hits he subjected you to. Almost—

Tender. 

This isn't meant to hurt. Not this one. 

He strokes his finger over your skin, cock throbbing with the rasping gasp that spills—a twisted amalgamation of pain, skin still smarting, burning to the touch, and—

His lashes flutter. Nostrils flaring. 

Your slick, wet, between your inner thighs. 

He slides his hand down, down, until your ass cheek is cupped in the bracket of his thumb and forefinger. Nestled tight. A perfect fit. The sight of your skin—soft, so soft—against his bearish, hirsute paw is sickeningly addictive. He grunts, pressing his thumb into the crease between your cheek and thigh. 

“P–Price—”

And then he pulls, moaning deep in his chest as he peels the fat of your ass away, unveiling your cunt to his rapacious gaze. Fuck—

“What’s this?” He taunts, breathless. Pinched. You squirm, trying to press your thighs together. Hiding your pussy from his scorching stare. He doesn't let you. “Gettin’ off on me spankin’ your arse?” 

“N–no, I'm—”

He pushes his thumb up, sliding it over your skin. Gathers your slick on the tip. “Don't lie to me, mm. You're fuckin' soaked.”

The air is punched from his lungs. Spills out in a wretched grunt. In the vacuum, something grows. Knots. Festering inside his chest. Animalistic. Primal. There's an itch in the back of his head. 

He lets go of your arm, knows you won't run. Won't try to escape. No. 

You're a good girl, aren't you? One who does what they're told. Follows orders. It tangles in the soporific slurry of his head, pitching a bivouac of need when you bring your arm down, curling it through the gap of the armrest, holding tight. 

Bracing yourself. 

His hum breaks in his throat. He drags his hand away from your cunt, reaching for the snuffed cigar idling in the ashtray. There's a fever in his veins. It makes his hand tremble. Shake. He needs the blunted drag of nicotine to quench this heady anticipation blooming in his guts. A brumous storm gyring inside him, an incipient maelstrom of want thickening. Intensifying. Threatening to spill over. 

He needs something to steady himself before he tears into you like a beast—

You cock your head over your shoulder, staring at him with eyes drenched in midnight ink. There's a flicker across your tear-stained expression. Something coy. Feline. Leonine. 

There's nothing said. Nothing needs to be. He finds what he's looking for in the fracture of your mien, and scoffs under his breath at your sheer gall. Little fuckin' minx. 

Tobacco proves to be a paltry facsimile when he draws in a bursting mouthful. The restive glow of it dulled under the adrenaline coursing through his veins, heady. Syrupy. A roaring deluge of anticipation broiling in the balmy air, crackling around him like a storm cresting over the horizon. Ozone saturates in the thickening atmosphere. 

Something will break. Shatter. 

He tenses, waiting for the first stormcloud to breach, and drops his hand back to your tender ass. Stroking over the raised welts just to make you gasp. Your hips flex under the shocks of pain riveting down your spine, undulating in his lap. Pitched perfectly over his cock. 

His breath shudders through a needlepoint. The friction is electric. 

In petty retaliation—and just to see you squirm—he trails his knuckles over your heated skin, luxuriating in the way you shiver. Head falling back down over the armrest, beautifully alluring in your vulpine submission. His fingers dip between the cleft of your cheeks, feeling the slickness sticking to your soft, sensitive skin. Soaked between your thighs. Wretched girl. 

His index and middle finger slide over your slit, parting your folds. He feels the small pulses of your drenched hole against his flesh when he slides over it with the press of his fingers. Eager little thing.  

He hums under his breath at the sight of his hand seated across your hand, fingers shoved between the globes of your smarting ass. Soft and tender to worn and gnarled. The cropping of dark hair over his knuckles, his hand, against your bare skin is obscene. The picture of sin with your stricken flesh and his thick veins. The contrast curdled in the back of his head, morphing into something ugly and wanting. 

Idly, he thinks of making you bounce your sore ass on his lap later, your pussy swallowing up his fat cock. Taking it all the way to the root. Over and over again. Breaking you on it until you're begging for mercy, until this little attitude of yours is crushed between his teeth. 

Slick gathers against the rough pads of his fingers, drenching them. The hair on his knuckles is matted down, wet with your arousal. Naughty girl. He'll make you pay for that. 

And for the puddle seeping into his trousers. 

You mewl when he slips, sliding over your clit. The noise spilling molten over your lips, bludgeoning into his loins. 

He drags in another mouthful of smoke. Lets it rot between his teeth as he drops the cigar into the ashtray once more, attention riveting to the slip-slide of your slick thighs rubbing together for friction against your aching clit. Cunt pulsing needily against his hand. 

You haven't learned a damn thing at all, have you? 

Smoke funnels out of his nostrils when he growls. “Spoiled, aren't you? Need to be taught a lesson in respect.” 

“I, ah, am respectful, Captain—” 

He sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. This lippiness of yours grates on his nerves. He wants you begging for mercy, limp in his hold. Pretty doll. Waiting obediently for him to put you back together again. Soft and submissive at his heel. 

“Got three more to go, love.” You shiver when he strokes over your ass. Petting gently with wet, tacky fingers. “If you're a good girl and take it for me, I'll play with your pretty cunt, mm. You'd like that, wouldn't you?” 

Price brings his hand down, grunting when you moan out his name. Sharp and needy. Your plaintive posturing is a spark inside a tinderbox. 

“E–eight.” 

The next one is harder, sharper. The force twinges his joints. Rattles through his bone. 

It's unexpected, and the pain makes you yowl, body drawing tight like a bow. There's no pleasure when it's like that. No friction against your cunt. It's just—

“Price—!” You yelp, shrill and distressed. The lead up to this has been child's play. A soft hand to tender a nervous mare. 

His old man taught him to never strike with the whip first but to wean them slowly. 

He waits, humming mockingly to your pettering whimpers as you heave, tremulous, into the air. Shuddering in his grasp at the aftershocks of agony rippling through your body. 

Waits. Waits. And—

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, cooing low and condescending when you gasp, craning your neck to level him with an imploring, pleading stare as you stammer out a frenetic nine in a breathless rush. Tears soak your lashline, clumping them together when you blink through another deluge pooling against the rim. Your lip wobbles. The stream breaks, spilling over. Fresh tears run down your wet, sticky cheeks. 

There's real panic in the whites of your eyes now. That haughty, pedant gleam buried under pyretic desperation. Gone is the coy twist to your lips. The wily little bloom of amusement in your gaze. 

Aw, poor thing. But—

Too late. “You didn't count. You know what that means, love.” 

That knot in his chest unfurls, and leaks acid into his lungs. This want is corrosive. A poison. The sob breaks through your chest. The first thunderclap. He relishes in it. Leans back in his chair to bask in the potency of your unmaking. 

“Good girl,” he husks out, burning lungs spewing black smoke into the air. “Just ten more now, love. Know you can take it for me, can't you?”

Pretty thing. He'll have that haughty attitude snuffed out before the end of the night. Have you begging for his touch, his cock, him, before the sun draws across the horizon. 

Your ruination at his hand. The thought strokes along the kindling smouldering inside of his chest. Burning away at the pyre he's been building since the day he met you. When you looked up at him, pretty in your scorn, and disobeyed his command. Undermined him. So righteous in your fury. A burgeoning flame he wanted nothing more than to snuff out under his heel, and now—

Wide, wet eyes plead with him. “Please, Price. Please, please. I'll be good—I promise I'll be good, sir—”

—ash in the palm of his hand. 

He strokes over your searing flesh, humming softly under his breath. “I know you will, pretty girl—” basks in the hiccup of relief you let out, lets it glue in his ears, echoing over and over again. So sweet. 

He lets your relief live for a moment. Take its first breath of air through aching lungs—

“But I told you, didn't I? That I'd take you over my knee.” Price pats his hand over your cheek, shushing you when you startle, squirming on his lap. 

You huff through your nose, growing annoyed at the prospect of being lectured. The elevator grants mercy and dings before slowly opening. There's a rowdy group of men inside who quickly walk out of the elevator, seedy eyes immediately finding their way to you, scanning your body up and down as they pass by. 

You feel that nauseous pit in your stomach twist as you finally step onto the elevator. Nothing to ruin your jovial mood from a nice evening more than a group of leering men. Living in an apartment building filled with soldiers, it wasn’t unusual to have them stare at you – didn’t mean you liked it. 

You cross your arms over your chest as König steps on, the elevator creaking and groaning under his immense weight. 

“What floor?” he asks softly, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stands in front of the button panel.

“3,” you mumble, leaning against the back wall. You watch him punch in the 3 but not anything else, making you raise a brow, “You live on 3 too?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say another word. You narrow your eyes at his back, if he feels you looking, he doesn’t give it away. The elevator is plunged into silence aside from the quiet sound of the shaft moving up and up until it dings and the doors slide open. 

He steps out first, standing in the threshold to keep the door from closing as you push yourself off the wall. Your head swims for a second and you stumble past him, keenly aware of his eyes on you. 

You wander down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder to see him slowly stalking behind you. His arms hand limply by his sides, his fists clenched into fists but he remains a respectable distance. 

“Why are you following me?” you ask, unable to hide the nervousness in your tone, “You said you don’t live on this floor.”

“Young recruits are tools,” he supplies simply, “I am making sure you make it to your door without any problems.”

That causes you to hum and for a little flutter in your stomach to manifest. You brush it off and pause at your door, pulling your keys out so unlock it. You push it open and step in, letting it hit your back to keep it from closing as you turn to look at your companion.

“Thank you…um…” you clear your throat and look at him expectantly. 

“König,” he supplies simply, arms tucked behind his back, making him look even wider. 

“König…” you repeat, feeling the words on your tongue, “Interesting name. Where are you from?”

“Austria,” he replies almost mechanically, “I will be going now.”

You don’t get to say another word before he’s stalking away and down the hallway, heavy footfalls practically rumbling the ground beneath him. You slowly close your door and lean against it, hand placed over your racing heart – when did that start up? 

You blame it on your inexperience when it comes to men. You’d had a couple boyfriends, pretty standard for someone in their 20s. Your problem was none of them were ever good enough. The over-zealous types who wanted their dicks sucked as gratitude for paying for dinner. Then would turn around and either give you the most lackluster head of your life, barely any foreplay before trying to shove his dick into an unprepared hole. 

You had never given them the chance, once they showed they were only interested in their own pleasure and would more than likely not even think about touching your clit or angling for your g-spot, you stopped them and kicked them out. More often than not, you woke up to a break-up text because of course you did. 

So that was how you were still a virgin and more or less, at this point, given up on dating. You’d been single now for the better part of 6 months and had no intentions of giving any men your own age a shot at it. 

But…you hadn’t considered an older man. Like König. 

At that thought, you pushed yourself off the door and kicked your shoes off, intent on taking a shower to hopefully wash these drunken thoughts out of your head. So he’d been nice and walked you to your door, no questions asked, so what? Didn’t make him any different from men your age. 

As you made it to the bathroom, you felt your stomach finally churn for the final time and found your head buried in the toilet. You cursed yourself for not listening to your friends, who apparently knew your own limits better than you did. 

The next time you see König is just a few days later. You walk into the apartment’s gym on the ground floor, and there he is – sitting lifting weights. You pause when you see him, feeling that traitorous flutter in your chest you were sure you puked out that night you had learned his name. 

You watch the way his biceps flex, bulging so large you’re sure not even two of your hands could wrap around the girth of it. There were some scars littering his skin, most of them white and raised from age but a few that still had that new tissue pink color. You also noticed some fading tattoos encircling his forearms. Fuck, he was hot. 

You hung your head and scampered over to the treadmill, intent on getting your cardio up. 

As you run, you notice a group waltz in, laughing and shoving each other. You glance over at them, rolling your eyes when some of them make eye contact and nudge their buddies. They lean in close and whisper to each other with shit eating grins on their faces and you find frustration building up so you try to ignore them. 

“Quiet,” you hear an accented voice snap, full of authority, “You are disturbing everyone.”

The rowdy young men quiet down immediately and clear their throats, “S-Sorry, Colonel,” one of them utters.

‘Colonel? Is that high ranking?’ you find yourself wondering, making a mental note to look that up later. 

Either way, König manages to make the gym peaceful once again and you finish your workout with no other hitches. 

You grab your towel and dab at the sweat on your face and neck as you swiftly make your way out of the gym, completely unaware of the shadow following closely behind. 

You slow to a stop at the elevator, punching the button to call it as you sip on your water bottle, mindlessly going over what else you need to do with your day. The shadow behind you remains stagnant, still and silent as it lurks behind your unsuspecting form as the elevator opens and you step on. 

He follows, hefty weight causing the elevator to groan as usual. That gets your attention and you jump, placing a delicate hand over your racing heart just like you had before, eyes wide in shock at his appearance.

“You’re doing it on purpose now!” you whine at him and he has to fight back a smile at it. 

“I told you that you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings,” he replies smoothly, pressing the 3 button for you before pressing 5 for himself. 

“How is a guy as big as you able to be so quiet?” you ask softly, making note of the floor he lives on. 

“Years of training,” he gives a quick response that you hum at. There is a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again, “You never gave me your name.”

He sees the way you look at him in surprise and he almost wishes he could rip the words from the air as soon as he says them. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea that he actually wants to get to know you. 

But you smile softly and give him your name with a kind nod of your head before the elevator grants him mercy and dings at the arrival on your floor.

“See you around, König,” you say as you step off. 

He doesn’t respond. 

Once back in the safety of your apartment, you find yourself going through the entire interaction in your head over and over again. Your heart races as you think back on him. 

It's as you’re making dinner for yourself that you finally have the coherent thought of revelation that you may have a crush on König. 

The revelation is almost enough to have you groaning out of frustration into the quiet sanctity of your apartment but you manage to refrain. But you can’t deny you don’t quite know what to do about it now. You had sworn off of men but…that was men your own age. König was…older than you, surely at least 15 years your senior, possibly more. You figure it couldn’t hurt to ask him out for some coffee one of these days. 

Except, the next time you see König is almost 2 weeks later. You don’t see hide nor hair of him at all. It definitely puts a damper on your confidence and you almost think your crush was just a fleeting little thing and for that you’re grateful for. 

Until the elevator opens one day and there he is. He’s wearing his hood but his eyes look even more exhausted than usual – beyond the general tiredness that comes with age. You carefully step on, joining him in the downward descent to the lobby. It’s just the two of you and feel that fluttering in your chest start up again and your hands begin to sweat. You scour your brain for something to say — anything to start up a conversation after so long of not seeing him.

“Haven’t seen you around,” you mutter softly. He hums softly in acknowledgement but doesn’t supply much of a response beyond that, “Where have you been?” you try again.

“Deployed,” he finally responds after several seconds of silence. 

You can’t find any way to respond or keep the conversation going but it’s sure that he has no intentions of doing so anyway. Still, it surprised you that he had been deployed, you hadn’t considered that. It made sense now that you thought about it. 

The elevator opened and you both stepped out. He walked much faster than you, beelining out of the apartment and you briefly considered letting him go but another part of you wanted to stop him and ask him out. 

You cursed to yourself and jogged forward, calling his name. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling for him. He looks down at you over his nose, a burning gaze that makes your nervousness spike. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good time after all. 

“What?” he snaps, clearly impatient.

“Oh um…” you clear your throat and slow to a stop, “N-Nevermind…”

He huffs through his nose and resumes storming out of the apartment. You find yourself sighing deeply, following his lead. When you get outside, he’s nowhere to be seen and you once again find yourself wondering how a man of his size is so good at not being seen. 

A few nights later, the weekend rolls around and you find yourself standing in that damned elevator with him once again. He’s maskless and it gives you pause before stepping on. 

It’s silent for a few seconds before he says, “I am sorry for the other day.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, “Um…what do you mean?”

“I was not polite towards you,” he answers, casting a soft gaze towards you that makes your heart flutter, “I took my bad mood out on you and I should not have. So…I am sorry.”

“Oh…” you clear your throat and give him a smile, “it’s alright, König. I shouldn’t have bothered you with something silly.”

He frowns at you, “Something silly?”

“It’s nothing,” you assure him, smiling kindly at him. 

He wants to ask you what you mean but the elevator door opens and you step out, making him realize that you reached your floor. You wave your goodbye to him as the doors close and he lets his head fall back with a sigh once he’s alone.

Yet another bad day weighed heavily on his shoulders when you came waltzing into the elevator, bright eyed and happy. His fists were clenched behind his back and he did his best to avoid looking at you, hoping you would take the hint and not speak to him like you usually did. It hadn’t been but a day since he had apologized to you for making an ass of himself in the lobby and he didn’t want to do the same thing so soon after. 

But then you say something that sends it all crumbling down.

“Hey…” you start, fidgeting your fingers in front of you, “Would you like to get coffee sometime? Maybe lunch?”

You ask it so sweetly and softly. For some reason, that grates on his nerves even more than anything.

“What?” he snaps, cold and sharp in a way that makes you visibly freeze. 

You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “Um…w-well, I just…it’s…I would like to…”

Your nervous babbling only serves to piss him off even more as his glare narrows down on you, making you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Suddenly, the elevator feels much smaller than it had ever before – even with him filling most of the space as usual. 

“You want to go out with me?” he spits, his accent growing stronger with every venomous word that he can’t seem to stop from spilling from his lips, “I am twice your age, what the hell makes you think I would want to date you?”

You swallow thickly around the lump forming in your throat and bite back the tears that threaten to form. He hears you sniffle and promptly snaps his head to look at you. Under the ugly, yellow light of the elevator he can see the tears trickling down your cheeks and he suddenly wants to slap himself into the next decade. 

He wants to open his mouth so badly and apologize for being so cruel to you. He knows he could have told you no in a much softer way rather than making your feelings seem like something revolting or stupid. But the elevator doors open and you’re slipping out before he even has a chance. He decides not to chase after you. 

It’s for the best, he assures himself. 

It only takes a few days before he’s vehemently regretting not stopping you then and there. 

It happens on a Friday night, the elevators are closing just as a hand jumps between them, sending them opening again. You step on, giggling in a way that tells him you’re just a little inebriated. You freeze when you see him standing there, maskless and cold gaze as he watches you tug a young man into the elevator behind you – clearly a little drunk himself. 

You pointedly stand in front of König, keeping your back to him to show that you’re not even willing to look at him. König feels his heart clench painfully in his chest before it’s replaced by a wash of anger as he watches the young man paw at you. He slips his hand down your back to grope at your ass, making you giggle breathlessly before you’re batting his hands away with a little bat of your lashes. 

König wishes he had an excuse to step off the elevator at the same time as you – anything to prolong his time with you. He’s never felt the desire to cockblock someone more in his whole entire life. 

But he doesn’t move. He just watches you step off without a single glance in his direction before you’re vanishing around the corner and the elevator doors close silently, leaving König alone with his thoughts. 

You couldn’t believe you brought this guy to your apartment. You especially couldn’t believe you were letting him strip you of your clothes and paw at your body like some kind of mindless dog. You had sworn to yourself that you were not going to fall into this trap again – a 20-something year old guy buying you a drink, complimenting you a little, teasing and groping you in the club until you caved and brought him home. It wasn’t your first go around – and it always ended the same way.

But you were drunk and you needed to get your mind off that stupid, giant Austrian military man that lived in your building. And wouldn’t you know it, he was on the elevator as soon as you got in. It was almost enough to sober you up, your wounded pride and feelings still so prevalent even after a few days of nursing the hurt. 

You could only hope that this would relieve you of your hurt feelings. 

Unfortunately, you quickly realized that this was a mistake. 

As soon as he started groping you, spreading your legs and trying to stuff his cock inside you without so much as a single finger of prep – you knew this wasn’t going to happen.

You tried to lead him, thinking maybe he was a little too tipsy to actually think about it.

“How about a little prep, hm?” you ask softly.

He pauses what he’s doing and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, “Oh…you’re one of those…”

He says it in disgust and you feel yourself bristle in annoyance, “One of what?”

“You want me to eat you out, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “That shit’s gross, c’mon just let me stick it in, already.” It was that moment that you felt any minute desire you had to have sex evaporate. 

You don’t even bother walking the guy out, leaving him to limp to the elevator in shame with a hard cock and blue balls.

It takes you a few days to find it in yourself to crawl out of your apartment. The only reason you actually do leave is because you’re in need of food – your little supply of ramen has depleted and you have to bite the bullet. 

After your little shopping trip at the nearby convenience store, you find yourself waiting for the elevator when a dark shadow looms over you. You feel a pit of dread in your stomach as you smell the musky, sweet scent of his cologne. But you don’t dare acknowledge his presence. 

He doesn’t give you long to ignore him, however, before he’s talking to you.

“How was your little date?” he asks, voice dripping in a tone of condescension that immediately puts you on edge. 

“What’s it to you?” you hiss, still not daring to look at him. 

He scoffs, “You went and found yourself a little toy to play with awfully fast. Seems your interest in me wore off quickly, no?”

That gets you to finally turn around, meeting his cold, indifferent gaze with your hot, teary one. You miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face.

“What is your problem?” you snap, “You rejected me, what the hell do you care what I do? And for your information, the date was shit. He was shit, like I should have expected any difference. God, I really am a fucking idiot,” you find yourself rambling, a lamenting spiel that you can’t seem to stop no matter how badly you want to, “Just like every prick before him, he was selfish and revolting. I thought I could finally get fucking laid and just call it a day but no, my stupid standards are too high and I find myself asking out the hot older guy in my building only for him to find me revolting!”

By the time you’re done ranting, the doors open and you storm out of the elevator, angrily gripping your bag of groceries. König is frozen where he stands, watching you leave as the doors slowly close – almost begging him to put his hand between them and stop them so he can chase after you. 

But he doesn’t.

It’s creeping up on midnight when there’s a knock on your apartment door. You’re curled up on the couch, watching some random show that you weren’t really invested in but couldn’t be bothered to change. 

The knock makes you jump, startled, but get up nonetheless. A quick peek in the peephole tells you exactly who it is before you even open it. 

You briefly consider not opening it period but find yourself opening it before you actually settle on a decision. 

König stands in front of you, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, looking comically small. The sight is almost enough to get you to crack a smile. Almost.

But the residual hurt from the last few interactions you’ve had with him is enough to keep you stoic. You raise a brow and you practically see his confidence falter. A pang of guilt goes through you at the sight and you step aside, waving him in with a quiet huff. 

He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his boots off as he watches you wander into the living room. You take a seat on your couch, covering yourself with your throw blanket once again as you watch him wander in, gazing around at your decor before finally settling on you. 

“Um…” He clears his throat nervously and places the flowers on your coffee table, “I think that we should talk…”

“Should we?” you quip back.

He sighs, broad shoulders heaving with the movement before he takes a seat beside you, taking up a hefty amount of space on your small couch. 

“I want to apologize,” he says softly, folding his hands in his lap, “When you asked me out…I-I should not have spoken to you like that.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “If that’s all this is about, König, then you can go. I-I don’t really want to hear a half-assed apology about the way you rejected me. You’re not interested, let’s just move on from it. I’ll get over it.”

He shakes his head quickly and curses under his breath, a word you don’t understand – German, your brain supplies, helpfully.

“You are wrong,” he says, “I do not want you to get over it because I am interested.”

The gets you to perk up, eyes wide, “What do you mean? You said you–”

“I know what I said,” he mutters, “I am…twice your age…”

“So you mentioned before…” you reply.

“I do not think…you should be with someone old like me,” he continues softly, “You should be with someone your own age. That is what I thought. It is not that I don’t find you attractive; I think you’re sweet and lovely. But it's just…our age difference…”

“König,” you stop him from continuing, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“I understand that but…” he trails off, casting a sideways glance across the room, away from you.

“I’ve tried dating men my own age, König,” you say, “It always ends the same – I send them home blue balled.”

He huffs out a laugh through his nose and finally sets his gaze back on you, “Why do you do that?”

“I don’t plan to…” you begin, running your hand along the soft fabric of your blanket, “it’s just that...I bring them home and then we start getting into it and it fucking sucks!”

“Sucks..?” The question is soft and drawn out. 

“He wants to fuck my throat and won’t even give me his fingers before trying to stick his dick in,” you spit, angrily glaring at the tv as you remember all your shit encounters, “I’ve never even let one of them go all the way.”

“You’re a virgin…?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “I guess. I mean I’ve had shitty oral and stuff but…”

“I see…” he trails off, shifting in his seat, hands still folded in his lap, “Well, I would like to take you out for a date after all.”

You find a smile spreading across your face faster than you can stop it. You jump to your knees and throw your arms around his shoulders with a squeal of happiness, “Really? You mean it?”

He laughs breathlessly, a husky little sound that makes your heart race, “Does this weekend work for you?”

You eagerly nod your head and lean in. You catch the way his eyes widen briefly before your lips meet. You think he’s going to pull away from you but instead he cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. 

You feel a shiver go through you at the feeling of his big, strong hand holding you there in the kiss. You couldn’t keep yourself from getting wet even if you wanted to. 

With your hands pressed against his firm chest, you toss one leg over his lap and find yourself seated on top of him. He breaks the kiss at that, hands migrating to your waist where he mindlessly strokes his thumb over the skin exposed by the way your shirt rode up.

You lean down and kiss him again and he groans against your mouth. You grind down against him in response to the throb that makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whimper into the kiss when he suddenly stops your movements with a firm grip. 

“We shouldn’t, liebling,” he whispers softly.

“Why not?” you whine, settling in his lips. You briefly realize that you can feel something hard beneath you and that makes you start dripping in your panties, “Don’t you want to?”

“I-I do…” he assures, “I just…want to properly court you…”

He couldn’t get any sweeter if he tried. Still, you quip back with a teasing little smile, “Wow, you are a lot older than me, huh?”

You feel giddy when the sweet look in his eyes melts away into something darker. One hand clasps the back of your head before he pulls you in for a much rougher kiss. You keen as you feel the way he exudes experience – the kiss like nothing you have ever experienced before. 

The way he moves his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to taste your mouth, it’s not gross or too much the way it sometimes is with men who don’t know what they’re doing.you find yourself moaning into the kiss before you even realize it. 

He pulls away at that, a heady look in his pretty, blue eyes. You find yourself briefly lamenting the loss of his mouth but that thought disappears quickly when he moves to begin peppering kisses along the length of your neck, making sure to nip at your jaw and kiss your shoulder. 

He tugs the hem of your t-shirt down just a bit so he can have access to your collar bones, nipping and kissing there as well. Your head falls back as you surrender yourself to him completely. 

“Oh,” he coos softly, lips brushing against your ear, “You are just so sweet for me, aren’t you, little one?”

You practically whimper at his words as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your skin. You squirm in his lap as his touch tickles you on his way up to your breasts, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his roughened palms. 

You sigh into the quiet room, arching your back to press deeper into his hands. His thumbs graze over your nipples and you moan. 

Sure, you’ve had guys grope your tits before but it had never felt like this. The mindless squishing and squeezing was replaced with soft cupping and gentle brushes over your nipples until they hardened followed by pinches and flicks that left you absolutely dripping in your panties.

He takes mercy on you quickly, one hand sliding down your body to slide under your sweatpants and beneath your panties. Your hands grip his shoulders, blunt nails biting into them when one broad finger slides down, the sticky noise of your folds separating enough to send heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers in a tone so soft you almost think it wasn’t meant for you, but then he tacks on, “Do you hear it?” 

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, embarrassment flooding through you at the sticky, clicking noises that come along with his prodding, “N-Never been this wet before, König…”

That causes him to pause, blue eyes gazing at you through his eyelashes, “Is that so..?” You desperately nod your head, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his hand, but he doesn’t move again and you whine, “Has anyone ever made you cum on their fingers?”

“J-Just me,” you answer breathlessly without a second thought. 

He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins moving his hand again. This time he introduces more fingers, spreading your folds apart with his index and ring so he can pet your hardened clit with his middle. The feeling makes tremors run through your body and he huffs a laugh, “I guess I will show you what it feels like then, yeah?”

He doesn’t give you a moment to think let alone answer before his middle finger is sliding into you. The one digit alone is enough to stretch you, given how massive he is in whole. He crooks his finger forward and a moan rips from your chest when he hits that gooey little spot inside you. 

“A-Another, please, König!” you beg shamelessly.

“Shh,” he hushes, shaking his head, “Let me work you open on this and then you can have more.”

You practically wail in despair, letting your forehead drop forward onto his shoulder. You suddenly wish you had rid yourself of your clothes so you could see the way his hand worked against you. All you could see now was the faint movement under your pants but the mental image of that thick finger inside you, slick with your juices was enough to have you clenching desperately around him. 

After a moment, he adds a second finger and you feel like you’re in heaven. The stretch is phenomenal and his palm bumps against your clit every time he sinks them into the last knuckle. 

However, before he can set a rhythm to really start getting you off, he stops. You angrily lean back and glare at him – the sight has his lips quirking up.

“Ride my fingers,” he orders you, leaving no room for arguing.

You can tell he’s not going to give you anything unless you take it for yourself so you sit up higher on your knees so you can have the clearance to move. Your hands remain on his shoulders, clinging to him for stability as you clumsily begin to rock your hips. The only time you’ve ever done these movements is when you tried humping your pillow once after seeing it in some porn. It didn’t really do much for you so you never tried again. 

König can tell your movements are clumsy and it makes his cock throb against his thigh. He helps you along, crooking his fingers just right to grind the tips against that sweet little spot inside you. It makes you moan beautifully and he files the noise away. 

His other hand comes up to grip your hip, steadying you as you continue to hump his fingers. You’re growing more and more frustrated as you quickly realize that you’re not able to make it feel as good as he had earlier. The tearful little gaze you give him has him breaking, using the hand on your hip guiding you into more seamless movements. 

“Like this, liebling,” he directs softly, “Grind down like that, mhm, give that little clit some love, yeah?”

You become increasingly breathless as you work yourself higher and higher under his expert guidance. He can feel your juices dripping down his wrist, the snug hold around his fingers growing even tighter with every little rut of your hips. 

“You’re so precious,” he coos, feeling the way you clench up at the sound of his voice. Your body is so honest, telling him what you like without you having to say anything, “You’re going to cum, I can feel it. Be good and give it to me, yeah?”

You surge forward and desperately kiss him, one hand reaching down and gripping his wrist. It takes only a few more, desperate thrusts of your hips for you to topple over that edge. Your body trembles on his lap and you cry out in pleasure. 

He moans alongside you, watching with rapt attention as you cum all over his fingers just like he told you to.

You slump against him as you come down and he pulls his hands out of your pants. He presses a kiss against your temple in silent praise, hands rubbing your back to soothe you through the aftershocks that run through your body.

You lean back and meet his gaze, an opportunity he takes to slip his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth. At that, you surge forward and kiss him, running your hands down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. He grunts into your mouth, brows furrowing at the release of pressure when you tug the zipper down.

You’re absolutely speechless when you finally pull his cock free. He watches in poorly concealed pride as you gawk at the length in your hand. You give him a slow and tedious tug, watching the foreskin roll over his head, forcing a bead of precum from the tip. 

“You’re so…big,” you whisper breathlessly.

“I know,” he grunts, unable to hide the ebbs of pleasure you give him as you play with his cock.

“Cocky,” you tease softly, continuing with your soft touches. 

“N-Not cocky,” he whispers, licking his suddenly dry hips, “Just aware of my size.”

You drop your eyes back down to his cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don't even touch each other when wrapped around him. Precum drips from the tip, leaking down the side to meet your palm and aid in the movements. 

He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. It wasn’t often that he got to indulge in someone else’s hand. Your palm was so soft, much softer than his own, and delicate in your inexperience. 

He reaches down with one his hands, wrapping around yours to make you squeeze tighter, “Just like that, little one, that’s how I like it.”

You could have drooled as he said it. His hand dwarfed yours and the sight made you clench around nothing, more slick leaking into your already ruined panties. 

“Let me see you, liebling,” he whispers breathlessly, fingers hooking on the hem of your top.

You release his cock to lift your arms, letting him tug the fabric over your head. His hands are on your tits immediately, mouthing at your nipples without wasting a second.

“So pretty,” he coos with his mouth full, rolling his tongue over your nipple before nipping the bud with his lips.

He switches to the other one, wrapping his mouth around it, sucking sharply before pulling back, taking your nipple with him before releasing it with a pop. You watch with lidded eyes as he drools all over your tits. His cock flexes and twitches against your thigh as he plays with your tits.

Suddenly, with a firm grip on your waist, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back on the couch with König on top of you. You lick your lips at the sight of his big, broad form hovering above you, caging you in as he leans down to kiss you again.

You sigh contentedly into his mouth, threading your fingers through his short, messy hair, using the grip to pin him against you. He lets you kiss him to your heart's content, only pulling back when you need air – a string of spit connecting your lips that breaks when he leans back between your thighs. 

His fingers took into the band of your pants, tugging them down, taking your panties with them until you’re completely bared before him. He’s still completely clothed aside from his cock that rests against his abdomen, occasionally twitching as his eyes rake over your nude body.

“Tell me, liebling,” he says, strong hands running up the length of your thighs, “Has anyone ever eaten you out?”

You clumsily nod your head.

“Was it good?” he asks, biting back a smile when you shake your head.

“Guys always think it’s gross or something…” you whisper softly.

He hums softly, “That is because you’ve been messing with stupid little boys.”

“You gonna eat me out, König?” you ask him, biting your lip in a poorly concealed excited grin.

“Would you like me to?” as he asks, he slowly spreads your legs open. The position causes your folds to spread apart, opening you up for his greedy eyes.

You feel your breathing speed up as he kisses down your body, starting with your lips and ending right above your clit. You feel the little bud twitch in anticipation as he tongues the skin above it, giving you a sneak peek on what is so close to it. 

“Tell me,” he says.

You whine, “Y-Yes, I want you to eat me out, König!”

He chuckles softly but doesn’t bother teasing you anymore. He meets your gaze and moves his tongue lower finally, sliding the flat of the muscle of your clit. You gasp and toss your head back into the cushions, eyes rolling back as he noisily slurps at your cunt. 

“O-Oh god!” you wail, hiccuping out noises of pleasure that you can’t seem to quiet.

König is in heaven. It’s not every day that he gets the opportunity to eat such a pretty, inexperienced little cunt. Your reactions to everything are so strong and loud. Your pussy is loud too, squelching in the room, making an intoxicating melody with your moans. He moans against you, swallowing down everything your messy little pussy drools out for him.

“Th-That feels so good, König!” you sob, kicking your feet mindlessly against his back as he captures your clit in his mouth, suckling at the bud, “You’re so good, so good, oh god!”

Never in a million years did you think being eaten out could feel this good. The mindlessly, halfhearted licks and kisses you had received in the past did nothing to prepare you for what it felt like to really have a man’s tongue on you. 

He pulls away suddenly, giving you a moment to actually breathe, “You taste so sweet, liebling.”

“König…” you whimper, looking up at him with lidded eyes, “Please, please don’t stop.”

You tug at his hair and attempt to pull his mouth back down on your pussy. You don’t care how pathetic and desperate it is, he has given you a taste of pleasure you’d never experienced before.

He has the audacity to laugh at you, brushing your hands away so he can sit up straight again. He scoots closer and you realize then that he is not planning to continue and it practically draws a sob out of you. 

“We can focus on that another time, liebling,” he promises, making you clench around nothing, more slick dribbling out for him to see, “You are so messy, you know that? Never had someone make such a mess all over me before. You must really enjoy being eaten out, huh?”

You feel your face burn hot with shame at his words, shyly hiding your face away. He smiles softly at that, “Nothing to be ashamed of, liebling…I love it, I do.”

“Really?” you quiver out the question and he nods his head.

“Yes, little one,” he coos, “I’m glad that I can make it feel good for you.”

You practically feel hearts in your eyes as he says that. You don’t think you’ve ever had a man tell you that he actually cared and enjoyed your pleasure. That was the final nail in the coffin for you – you really should have been going after older men all this time.

He disrupts your thoughts by suddenly stripping his shirt off. Your mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his bared skin – firm muscle, hair speckled all over his torso, and numerous scars from untold stories of his time in the military. You take note of the faded tattoos that become visible on his pecs and biceps; you’d always noticed the tattoos on his arms but you’d never really been given the opportunity to look. 

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper.

He pauses while ridding himself of his jeans and smiles, “Thank you, little one.”

When he’s completely bare to you, you slowly rake your eyes down the entirety of his newly exposed body. His cock hangs heavy under its own weight, glimmering at the tip with his precum. You’d never been with a guy who was uncut but the sight made you drool. 

“Now, liebling,” he says suddenly, getting your attention. He scoots closer, spreading your legs as wide as he can before laying the hefty weight of his cock against your cunt. It’s hot and throbbing and your entire body trembles at the sight, “You have to understand something.”

“What..?” you ask, breathless and unable to look away from his cock. 

“I am not like those little boys you were running around with,” he explains, hips slowly beginning to rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, drawing a sweet little moan from you, “I don’t stick my cock in a tight little cunt and blow my load, do you know what I’m saying?”

You shake your head, too lost in the sight and feeling of him practically fucking the outside of your pussy. He doesn’t stop the mind-numbing rolls of his hips, letting you get lost in the feeling of him stroking over your clit, saturating him in your cum. 

“That means,” he sighs, reaching up to grip your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned over your body, sandwiching his cock between the two of you, “I don’t cum easily, liebling. I am a grown man, I will fuck you until you cannot cum anymore. Are you prepared for that?”

The fact this man was so confident in his abilities in bed has you clenching around nothing again. You were sure the guys you almost slept with would never have been able to have the pure confidence that came from König. He knew what he was doing – he knew how to make you cum and he was going to use that experience well. You knew his age played a factor in how long it would take him to cum and you couldn’t wait to experience it.

“I want it so bad, König,” you beg softly, “Please?”

“Very good,” he praised, “You’re so good for me.”

He finally gripped the base of his cock and you watched excitedly as he pressed the tip against your entrance. You reached down and wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them back for him so he could comfortably begin pressing into you.

The stretch is beyond anything you’d ever felt before. You knew his cock was big but watching the bulbous tip press against you and slowly spread you wide open was something else entirely. It burned in a way that had you wincing, furrowed brows making your face pinch up, making König pause. 

“It’s okay, little one,” he whispers, bringing a big thumb up to roll over your hard little clit, “Just relax for me, don’t clench up or it will hurt more.”

“I-It’s so big, König!” you wail helplessly, tearily staring up at him as he methodically works you open on his cock.

“I know,” he assures, still stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb, “But you can take it.”

You tearfully nod your head and do your best to relax your body, letting yourself sink into the couch. 

“Good, liebling, very good,” he coos, “Just let me in, nice and slow. Doesn’t it feel nice? The little burn of being stretched open but the pleasure of having this pretty little clit played with? Just lay back and enjoy it, little one.”

He’s right, of course. The burn aches, yes, but the pain and pleasure mixes the more he rubs your clit. You clench around him, an involuntary reaction that causes the head of his cock to finally pop in. Your eyes widen as you watch your cunt swallow it and with a perfectly timed tap against your clit, your back arches and you’re cumming.

“O-Oh König!” you squeal, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the head of his cock and nothing else.

“Oh, that’s good,” he grins, “That’s perfect, little one.”

As you come down with a tremble in your thighs, you finally fix your gaze on him once again.His eyes are lidded and pupils are blown so wide you can’t even tell they’re blue anymore. 

“That looked like a good one,” he comments almost flippantly before he rolls his hips forward, “Now you’re nice and ready for me.”

You choke on a gasp as he rolls his hips forward, fitting half of his cock inside your still spasming cunt. Your cum coats him in a slick sheen that aides in allowing him to pull back and slide back in, settling on fucking you on half his cock.

Your mouth falls open and you watch as a thick, milky ring forms around that fat middle part of his shaft, “M-More, König! Please!”

He knows you want all of him, want to know what it’s like to feel all of him stuffed deep inside you. But he knows you’re not quite ready for that yet, fucked out of your head from the intense orgasm he had just given you with ease.

“Not yet, liebling,” he coos, keeping his pace slow and steady, “Let’s work you open a little bit more, yeah?”

“No,” you whine, “Please, I want it all, König.”

“Aww, I know you do, little one,” he pants, already feeling dizzy from spearing you on his cock, “But I know what’s good for you, just listen to me and be good, okay?”

“Okay…” you pitifully whimper, sinking back into the couch. 

You abandon your hold on your legs, letting them rest around his hips limply now. He continues moving like that, inching deeper and deeper into you with every thrust. Your cunt makes embarrassingly loud squishing noises the move he works his hips against you. 

Before you know it, you’re watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as his pelvis presses against yours. Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in pure pleasure as you finally experience the entirety of everything König has to offer. 

You’re speared wide open and the head knocks against your cervix painfully but the little bit of pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter. 

“There we go, little one,” he coos sweetly, “I’m so proud of you, took all of my cock so well.”

He’s so big that he presses against every sweet little spot inside you without even trying. But, oh, his experience is crystal clear in the way he moves. He may be naturally gifted with a nice, fat cock but he knew how to use it.

Seamless, rhythmic thrusts had your brain going fuzzy before you even knew what was happening. You wouldn’t have been able to be quiet even if you wanted to. You knew you would be absolutely horrified to face your neighbors later because it would be impossible for them to not know you got fucked real good. 

Suddenly, König leaned over you, resting one forearm above your head to hold his weight off of you. The position caused his pelvis against your clit every time he sunk balls deep. Sticky strings of your cum stuck to his skin but he didn’t seem to even notice how wet you were.

But, oh, he did. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you creamed and gushed around him. A nice, pliant little pussy that was more than eager to swallow every inch of his cock.

The change in position had you grappling onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wailed into his shoulder. Every mind-numbing snap of his hips hit that gooey, tender spot inside you that had your entire body twitching from the pleasurable stimulation. Your nails bit into his back and he briefly thought about the prospect of his recruits seeing them. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” he whispered in your ear, pressing a sweet kiss underneath your ear.

You nod your head, “Y-Yes! You’re gonna make me c-cum again, König!”

He chuckles under his breath, “I know I am, little one. I’m going to make you squirt.”

“C-Can’t,” you heave, twitchy legs kicking against his back.

“Yes, you can,” he assures, leaning away to sit up once again, “I can make you squirt, trust me.”

The whine you emit pitches into a squeal when he presses his palm against your lower stomach. You reached down in a panic to grab his wrist, not used to the strange feeling of him pressing down while he fucks you. 

“W-Wait!” you wail.

“Wait for what?” he asks, but doesn’t slow even a bit in his movements.

“F-Feels weird!” you gasp, hiccuping as you squeeze his wrist. 

“I know,” he grunts, brows furrowing at the feeling of you clenching around him, “It’s supposed to. Just lay back and let it happen, liebling. I’ve got you.”

Your whole body trembles and your jaw drops as you meet his gaze, a look of wonder crossing your face as you feel an orgasm like you’ve never felt before crash over your body. It’s long, drawn out and almost painful from how good it feels. You squeeze tight around him, your clit twitching and pulsing, completely untouched as he makes you squirt. It splashes against his abdomen and drips down his thighs. 

“There we go,” he laughs, a sound that sends a flush of embarrassment to your face, “See? I told you you could do it.”

“König…” you slur, feeling as if you’ve been fucked completely braindead.

It finally dawned on you that you would never, ever be fucked by anyone as good as König has fucked you. The first cock you’ve ever been stuffed full of and he made you squirt with terrifying ease. You were completely ruined, no dick would ever be able to compare to his. 

He sees the way your gaze turns completely enamored, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. He grins, sharp canines poking out as he leans down again, kissing your temple.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, “Dick so good it’s got you in love?”

You keen at the pure condescension that drips from his voice. But he’s not wrong, you can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.

You have no idea how long you’ve been pinned beneath him, speared open on his cock while he fucks you absolutely stupid. You notice the change in him quite suddenly. His deep, concentrated thrust changed into something less calculated, messy almost. He loses his rhythm and falters in his pace.

“I’m going to cum, liebling,” he grunts, tone pitchy and gruff, “Where do you want it?”

“Inside!” you immediately cry, not missing a beat. He sees your eyes light up at the prospect of being filled up completely by his cum. You’re so sure it’s going to be a lot, you want to feel it drip out of you as a reminder that he had claimed you.

“Is it safe?” he huffs, but you can feel his cock twitch inside you at the idea of cumming inside you.

You desperately nod your head and he allows himself to fall over that edge. He teeters on his knees before collapsing with his hands on either side of your head. He no longer tries to thrust, settling for desperate, deep grinds that stirs his cock within your walls. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, another orgasm washing over you before you even realize you’re that close.

“Oh, fuck,” König gasps, voice breaking as your orgasm sends him over the edge.

You’re panting and whimpering, trembling as you feel the heat of his load filling you up. His cock twitches with every spurt of cum. It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a long time, his balls throbbing with every pump of cum his cock spits out. 

It oozes from around the tight seal you have around him, dripping onto the couch. He’s trembling by the time the intense orgasm comes to an end. He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see you sleepily staring up at him with a dazed smile on your lips.

“Mein Gott…” he huffs out, lowering his body to press his lips against yours sweetly, “That was incredible, liebling.”

You beam under his praise and wrap your arms around his neck, “It was, wasn’t it?”

He chuckles and strokes his thumb against your cheek, “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you agree.

The care he gives you afterwards is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. He wipes your body down gently, careful not to rub your skin too hard. He stands with you in the shower, towering over you as he lathers your exhausted body with soap. 

“Can we do that again sometime?” You ask softly when he crawls into bed beside you – which you were shocked about, but didn’t complain.

He raises a brow and chuckles, “Yes, liebling. But not right now, I could not go another round so soon.”

You giggle and snuggle into his broad chest, practically preening when he wraps you up snug against him. You sigh softly and speak up again, “Can we…still go on that date..?”

He’s quiet for a moment before you feel a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, liebling. I would love to.”

You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is another soft kiss against your head. You realize, sleepily, that you’ve never felt more cared for by a man in your life.

Last night had divided your life into “before” and “after”. Even your kidnapping hadn’t changed your brain chemistry as much as König’s strong fingers in your pussy. Now you thought only about what else he could do to you. Or what you could do to him.

Memories washed over you like a hot wave. It was as if you were not yourself. How greedily you impaled yourself, now on his fingers, now on the toy. In fact, he practically did nothing, he just extended a helping hand to you. And even that was enough to drive you crazy. What will happen to you when he takes complete control over you? When he decides where, how and at what speed to touch you. When he decides when and how many times you cum. When he gives you orders in that deep voice of his, a strict tone that does not tolerate objections. And how one day you disobey him out of curiosity, so that he could punish you. Oh, what else could his huge hands do? How would you scream when his hot palms slapped your ass?

Your thoughts refused to switch to other topics. You were eating breakfast, and you were wiggling your ass on his lap, realizing that the only barrier between his cock and your pussy was a couple of thin layers of fabric. He was holding out a fork with a piece of omelet to your mouth, and you were already imagining how your lips would close on the head of his cock. He was dabbing the corners of your lips with a napkin from vanilla cream, and you were imagining how he would wipe his own cum from your face. You were lost to the world.

You secretly hoped that after what happened, König would take the initiative, touch and squeeze you. Gods, you hoped that he would bend you over the dining table and fuck you so hard that your legs wouldn’t hold out. But no. He was still kind to you, caring, and all his touches were certainly very gentle, without a hint of passion. He did not try to grab your ass, did not slide his fingers between your legs, did not try to bite your neck. He did not even try to kiss you on the lips!

In his every action, in every gesture, in every look and in every word you saw either a hint or teasing. It reached the point of absurdity: you thought that he put on a tight T-shirt again just to seduce you (although all his T-shirts were the same, and you knew it).

It was approaching lunchtime, you were sitting on his lap on the couch, and you could not stop fidgeting. You hoped that your awkward movements would turn him on, but, frankly, you had no idea what to do to turn on a man.

“Princess, are you uncomfortable? Do you want to sit next to me?”

There was no hint of mockery in his voice, only innocent, sincere concern.

“It's okay,” you muttered and fell silent, folding your arms across your chest.

Your irritation grew and you began to twitch your leg nervously. It would seem that your hunger should have been satisfied for some time: two mind-blowing orgasms after two weeks of abstinence should have calmed you down a little. But no, things only got worse. Now all you could think about was how to get into his pants. Like an obsessed rabbit during mating season.

Hot palms fall on your hips, and you freeze, looking at his fingers. Really?.. You are already imagining how his hands slide higher, when suddenly he simply lifts you up and sits you down next to him. König turns his whole body to you, takes your palms in his and looks into your face. His gaze is very serious, he does not smile and does not try to tease you. He is really worried.

“Princess, i’m worried. I want to know what‘s going on in your sweet little head.” 

You remain silent, blinking your eyes stupidly. How can you say that you want him? That you want him to pounce on you and fuck you like a cheap whore? That you want him to fuck your brains out, so not a single thought left in your skull except for thoughts of him and how good he makes you feel?

You shake your head and lower it, staring at your bare knees. Wishing he would put his huge hot palm on your knee and slowly, teasingly, rise higher and higher...

The fingers you dreamed about and which you seemed to still feel inside you, tighten on your jaw. König lifts your face sharply and comes so close that the tip of his nose practically touches yours. You see furious lights in his eyes. And everything in your stomach turns over.

“I will say this once, Princess, and I will not repeat it even to you twice,” he hissed through clenched jaws. “Do not even try to hide anything from me. All your actions, your words, thoughts, feelings and desires - all of them belong to me. No lies, no omissions, do you understand me?”

You nod quickly, not daring to even blink. You should be terrified, you should be scared. But you literally melt, you feel how your body relaxes and goes limp, how desire flares up in you with renewed vigor, and “Yes, Master” almost escapes from your lips.

“I'll ask for the last time,” König warns, looking you in the eyes expressively. He really means it. “What's going on?”

You hesitate and drag out the answer. Part of you is still capable of feeling shame and embarrassment, but the other wants to honestly admit it, because... He cares about you! Satisfies all your needs. You could have asked for drinks and delicious foods. So why can't you ask him to please you with his mouth?

“I want more,” you whisper.

He only squints, not understanding what you mean.

“Explain yourself.”

“Since last night, my head has been filled with dirty thoughts. I can't think of anything else. And you act like nothing happened, like it meant nothing to you, and I…”

He shuts you up unceremoniously with a kiss. Aggressively, he bites into your lips. His fingers are still clutching your jaw. For some reason, you can’t breathe, and you’re almost passing out when he finally pulls away. His gaze is still serious, but the corner of his mouth is raised in a predatory smirk.

“How many more times do I have to tell you for you to get it?” His smirk becomes more predatory. “You just.” A kiss. “Need.” A kiss. “To ask. Come on, princess. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. Like yesterday. You were so brave. And you were rewarded for it. Come on. Speak.” His fingers tighten, and his voice drops to a threatening growl.

“I want you to touch me.”

Oh, no, honey, you won't get off that easy.

You realized with horror that he really wasn't going to spare you today. He was going to force you to tell him exactly what you wanted from him, and if you refused, he would either punish you or leave you unsatisfied. You couldn't let that happen. And if you had to act like a bitch in heat to get what you wanted, that's what you were going to act like.

“I want you to throw me down on the couch, spread my legs, and lick me so hard I'll forget my name,” you blurted out, trying not to think about how vulgar and disgustingly obscene you sounded.

Konig groaned. He closed his eyes, clearly running your words through his head over and over again, and you thought he might come without touching himself, just by doing that. The right answer was right under your nose all the time - to be honest and open, because that's what he always wanted from you. For you to openly tell him about your desires. Why did you have to torment yourself like that if you could either ask him or just jump on him and ride him until your legs give out? It's good that you have him. At least someone with brains.

Although, you couldn't tell from his eyes that there was even one coherent thought left in his skull.

You flop down on the couch. You don't have time to realize what's happening, and your T-shirt is already lifted, your legs are lying on König's shoulders, and his hot breath is blowing heat into your wet pussy. Without ceremony, without trying to prolong the pleasure or tease you, he gets down to business. His wide tongue covers you entirely, and your whole body shudders from the long-awaited caress. He literally drools all over your pussy, you feel his saliva mixed with your arousal flowing down to your ass. You close your eyes and throw your head back, not noticing how you dig your heels into his back, pressing, pulling him closer to you.

There is no exquisite technique or divine mastery in his movements. He simply eats you with a frantic appetite. As if he has never tasted anything tastier, anything sweeter in his life. He kisses your clit, caresses your labia with his tongue, bites, sucks, rubs his tongue, and moans. Moans with bliss. Moans even louder than you.

Oh, darling, he hasn’t thought about your pleasure. The second his tongue touched your slick, when his brain realized your taste, he was lost, reduced to a hungry, dumb beast. He will eat you. Devour you whole. Will not leave a single piece of you.

The first orgasm hits you unexpectedly. It's not very strong, but it's no less sweet. You squeeze König's head with your thighs, shuddering with your whole body, covering his face with your juices. If someone less physically developed were in his place, you would have broken his neck. But König is strong enough to endure it. And even more.

He doesn't stop for a second. He doesn't slow down his movements, continuing to furiously attack your most sensitive parts with his tongue. The pleasure begins to border on pain, and you try to weakly push his head away from your hyper-sensitive pussy. You might as well try to move a mountain. He growls discontentedly, grabbing your hips with his hands and pressing into you even harder, as if in spite concentrating his attacks on your clit. You feel tears welling up in your eyes, it hurts, but the second orgasm is coming against your will, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

The second wave is devastating. You thrash from side to side, trying to pull away, crawl away, push König away with your hands, your feet, all your limbs together. Tears are streaming down your cheeks. It hurts, you need a break, you can't take it anymore.

“Please, König, let go, that's enough, it hurts.”

But he doesn't hear. Your moans, your cries of sharp, painful pleasure, your convulsive gasps - all of this is music to his ears. He squeezes you tighter, leaving bruises on your skin, squeezing your plump flesh as if his life depended on it.

The next orgasm doesn't bring you joy, it's pure torture. All your nerves are pierced by an electric current, your muscles are tense to the limit, you are shaking, arching. Your face is smeared with tears, snot and drool, you are in such chaos, you are in so much pain, so bad, and you can’t do anything to stop it. The feeling of helplessness goes from exciting to terrifying. What if he doesn’t stop? With each passing second, the agony is getting stronger.

Another orgasm, a scream tears through your lungs, you no longer have the strength to resist, your body goes limp and you resign yourself to your fate. This agony cannot be stopped, it will continue forever, it will drive you crazy, it will be your death. You lose touch with reality, feeling only the flame between your legs. Only incoherent muttering escapes from your lips.

Suddenly it all ends.

“Princess, what is your name?” the sarcasm oozes from his words, you turn your face to him wearily and look into his eyes with confusion. “What is your name?” he repeats his question.

What is your name? He knows your name perfectly well! He called you by name... so long ago, if you think about it. Okay, you know who you are. You!.. You... You whine pitifully, covering your face with your hands.

“I don't know,” you say between sobs.

König covers you with his huge, powerful body, and you find yourself locked in a cocoon of his strong arms. The lips that a few seconds ago tortured you with pleasure furiously and mercilessly now gently touch your forehead. The hands that held you in an iron grip, not letting you move away from the sweet torture, gently embrace you and stroke your back. You cry, cry, cry, and you can't stop. And you don't understand why you're crying. You're still shaking from the sweet pain between your legs, you can't even move your thighs from the thrill of the sensations. Who are you? What are you? Were you even someone?

“Come on, Princess, come on.” His gentle voice drives you crazy, it promises care, tenderness, a twisted version of love, and you believe it, you want everything, you want to believe all his sweet promises, because he knows what's best for you. “I just did what you asked, huh?”

You hum questioningly, unable to utter a word.

You asked me to make you forget your own name. And look, you really did forget it. See, darling? I fulfill all your wishes. And I refuse you nothing. So don't be afraid to ask.” König pauses to look you over. He pulls the hem of his T-shirt and wipes your tear-stained face with it. Without breaking eye contact, he continues: “I will do anything for you. I live for you. I will kill for you. One word from you - and any of your whims is fulfilled.”

You don't know what to say to that. And you don't even want to think about it. He is so close, his face is so close, his lips are so close. You tiredly put your palm on his cheek, stroking it gently, your gaze jumping from his lips to his eyes and back. You want to kiss him, but you don't want to ask. But you don't want to initiate a kiss either. If only he could really read your thoughts...

“Do you want to kiss?” he asks, smiling. This time there is no mockery or malice in his question. Just like in his gaze. It is full of warmth, tenderness and love. And even the lights of obsessive madness went out.

You just nod tiredly, and the next moment he touches your lips. He kisses you tenderly, affectionately, sweetly. And for so long. It’s not a violent impulse, not a violent attack. And you melt. And you don’t notice how you switch off.

You wake up a few hours later, curled up on the couch under a blanket. König is not there, which makes you anxious. You jump up and, without letting go of the blanket, go looking for him. Bedroom? Empty. Bathroom? Empty. Hallway? Empty, but his shoes are there. His room? But you can’t go into his room. You can’t, right?

You go to the closed door and listen. But you don’t hear anything. Taking a deep breath, you knock softly and shudder with your whole body when you hear a loud imperative “Come in.” You open the door and take a step into the darkness.

A table, a metal cabinet, a bunch of monitors. Three of them are turned off, while two are showing surveillance footage. From this apartment. The rooms are viewed from several angles, from several perspectives, so that no nook or cranny is left unattended. You were right: you would never be able to find a secluded corner. You awkwardly shuffle around the threshold, and König turns to you and holds out his hand.

“Come here, Princess.”

You smile nervously and approach him in small steps. As soon as you get close, he grabs you by the waist and sits you on his lap. In your place.

“I was just reviewing our recording,” he says, kissing your temple and looking at the screen. You follow his gaze and see yourself sprawled on the couch with his head between your legs. Your cheeks flush with shame and embarrassment, but you don’t look away. He turns up the volume and you hear yourself moaning wildly. You hide your face in your hands, bashful. You didn't know you could make sounds like that.

“Oh, don't be shy, Princess. That was amazing. I want to cut the sound out of that video and make a ten-hour version to listen to on my headphones while I'm at work.”

You blush even more, involuntarily imagining it. König laughs softly, seeing your reaction, and hugs you even tighter.

“How sweet you are.”

You relax, melt in his arms, your mind almost completely switches off, not a single thought bothers you. You don't need to think. He will think for you. All you need to do is sit on his lap, do what he tells you, and if you want something, say it out loud right away and without embarrassment. Any of your whims. Any of your caprices. He will do everything for you. Just ask. 

“König, I want you,” you say quietly, hiding your face under the blanket. You feel a wave of trembling run through his body, his breathing getting ragged.

“And now look into my eyes,” he orders, revealling your face and grabbing your chin so that your eyes meet.

“I want you,” you repeat barely audibly. Your palm seems to cover his cheek on its own, and your fingers gently stroke his skin, sliding to his lips. You have no more doubts. You want him. You want him with your soul and body, you want him to fill your entire being, you want to breathe him in, feel his taste on your tongue, feel him deep inside your own body. You don't want to go back to a cold and lonely meaningless existence, you don't want to vegetate alone, buried under routine and everyday life, you want to be his girl, his toy, his obsession, to live and breathe only for him.

“You know the rules, Princess. Be specific.”

“I want your cock. I want you to fuck me the way you think I deserve. I want you to hold me until you're satisfied. I want you to use me for your own pleasure. I want you to destroy me.”

He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to calm down. And when he looks at you again, you no longer see a person in front of you, you see an animal, a monster, a beast, a demon. Part of you still has time to regret what you said. He really will destroy you. But you still open your mouth obediently when he kisses you, hot and greedy, wrapping your arms around his neck when he throws the blanket off you and tears apart the T-shirt that still hides your body. He picks you up in his arms, and you wrap your legs around him. König carries you into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed.

You try to pull his T-shirt off, but to take it off, you will have to break the kiss, which you categorically do not want to do. You lift it as high as you can and run your hands over his body, studying, caressing. His nipples are so small compared to yours, but so hard, and his whole body shivers so cutely as soon as you touch them with your fingers. You want to tease him more, to turn him on, to give him as much pleasure as possible, but he intercepts your hands and presses them to the bed above your head.

He says nothing, but you can clearly read the order in his eyes: don’t move. He will do everything himself, all control belongs to him. He will take you as he sees fit. You swallow loudly, freezing in anticipation.

His huge palms slide greedily over your body. He squeezes you, kneads you like dough. If it were anyone else in his place, you would not know where to put yourself from embarrassment and shame. But with him... König looks at you with a passionate, greedy gaze, as if he wants to simultaneously squeeze you entirely in his palms or devour you, absorb you completely without a trace. It is as if he sees before him a goddess who has generously rewarded her most ardent admirer with a divine blessing. He sees all your “flaws” as “virtues”, and for the first time in your life you feel irresistible.

He covers your body with kisses, alternating them with bites. Marking his territory, leaving traces of his possession. You flinch in pain and moan in pleasure when the sharpness of his teeth is replaced by the softness of his tongue. You understand that tomorrow you will be covered in bruises, but now it does not matter at all.

You arch your back when he begins to stretch you with two fingers. You are still so sensitive from what he did to you earlier. But you will not ask him to stop.

Slowly a third finger is added. The slight pain from the stretch slowly fades with his passionate kisses. He presses his cheek to your temple, without stopping the movements of his hand, and growls in your ear:

“You are so wet for me, Princess. We don’t even need lube.”

You nod as if he asked you a question, and he only smirks in response. If you're like this now, what will happen to you when he fucks you the way you deserve?

Suddenly, König pulls away and towers over you like a huge, immobile rock. His fingers slowly leave your body and slide to the waistband of his pants. One hand pulls his pants down, the other lifts his T-shirt, revealing a strong, toned stomach. He takes his time, putting on a show for you, watching carefully as your eyes roam over his muscular body and how you bashfully avoid looking at his cock. It’s okay, darling, not all at once. He is patient and will give you time.

Without warning, he grabs your hips and pulls you towards him. Your breath catches at how huge he looks next to you. He rubs his cock against your pussy, lubricating himself with your own wetness. You begin to get nervous, you don't know if you can take him, he is bigger than any toy you have ever had. You swallow nervously and take a deep breath.

“Princess?” König calls you, and you look into his eyes. His gaze is serious. “If you really changed your mind, I can still stop. But once I start, no amount of your begging or tears will stop me.”

Your heart is swelled with love, you are overwhelmed with delight. He is ready to hold back for you, because he does not want to do this against your will! How can you say no to him? You smile and gently touch his hand squeezing your thigh.

“It's okay, I'm just worried. You are... very big…”

You feel your cheeks burning, but you hold his gaze.

“Thank you, baby. Don't worry, you can take me all the way. I will make sure of it.”

The next moment, he pushes into you. His thick head slips inside and your walls grip it tightly. You convulse and hiss through your teeth.

“Quiet, Princess, quiet, relax,” he gently mumbles, caressing your body, massaging, stroking, distracting you in every possible way. His rough palm falls on the bottom of your stomach and his thumb covers your clit, pressing lightly. Pleasure quickly overshadows the pain of penetration, and you finally relax.

His thrusts are slow, shallow. Each time he enters a few millimeters deeper. He is in no hurry, stretching you, changing the shape of your insides to suit himself. And when he finally enters you all the way, you are already on the verge of madness from his lazy caresses. It seems to you that he pierced you to the very throat, you feel so filled. Filled by him. As if the missing piece of the puzzle finally found its place. And that place is the depths of your pussy.

He's still moving irritatingly slowly, his thrusts not enough to bring you to orgasm, his caresses seem to deliberately keep you on the edge, not allowing you to step over it. König wants you like this - almost cumming. But only almost. And he'll keep you in this state for as long as he can.

All you can do is lie there and take it. His thrusts are picking up speed, the dirty sound of skin slapping against skin is spreading throughout the room, making your cheeks burn. You can't breathe, you're sobbing from the overabundance of sensations. He throws your legs over his waist, and you wrap your arms around him, pressing him closer. He lowers himself onto his elbows on either side of your head, he's so close, you can feel his ragged breathing on your face, you can see the furious fire in his dilated pupils, you can see beads of sweat on his forehead. And you can feel his movements becoming more and more furious and frantic. He's close, but still trying to prolong the pleasure. His hoarse, low moans tickle your ear, and you start to moan louder yourself. You feel so good, so good. Finally, you've become one. You don't understand where you end and where he begins. You just grab him with your hands and legs and tremble under his pressure.

He changes the angle of penetration so that with each thrust his pubis presses against your hypersensitive clit. And you feel how everything in your lower abdomen contracts. You need just a little bit. Just a little bit.

“König, Kön... I... I!” you babble incoherently, trying with all your might to hold back.

“Cum, Princess, cum,” he growls in your ear, and this becomes the last straw.

A wave of orgasm covers you and it is not like any other you have had before. Each spasm of pleasure brings you a little pain, and this only sharpens your senses. You dig your nails into his shoulders and hear his muffled wheeze in your ear. And only when you finally let go and you can think again, you understand that he followed you. His body slowly goes limp and he presses you into the mattress. You find it hard to breathe under the weight of his body, but you feel so good. You lie like this for a few minutes, coming to your senses. You even have time to think that it’s not that scary. Oh, naive, that was just a warm-up.

You don’t have time to gasp before König turns you over onto your stomach and lifts your ass up. His hot palms land on your buttocks with a juicy slap, spreading them apart, giving him a stunning view of your stretched hole. Thrust, second, third, deeper, harder. And now he’s already fucking you into the mattress with such force that you can’t breathe normally, you only moan pathetically, clinging to the sheets.

He torments you for several hours, filling you with his hot seed over and over again. You’ve long since lost touch with reality, everything between your legs is burning, you’ve lost count of your orgasms. The sheets beneath you are wet from your tears, saliva and your shared juices. You cry, begging him to stop, but he only growls in your ear:

“I warned you, Princess.”

And continues to torment your body.

You begin to lose consciousness, to fall into darkness, but he does not stop. He releases his last load into your already unconscious body and stops only when the dawn breaks outside the window.

You come to your senses only by the next evening. You are wrapped in a soft fluffy blanket and sitting on König's lap. You are in the living room on the couch. You fidget, trying to stretch your stiff muscles, and he looks at you, smiling tenderly.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.” He kisses your forehead. “How are you feeling? Are you thirsty?”

You only nod silently in response, your throat too dry to speak. König eagerly presses the neck of the water bottle to your lips, and you take a few greedy sips.

“I thought I wouldn't survive the night,” you breathe out and sleepily snuggle up to him. He hugs you tighter and presses his cheek to the top of your head.

“I did exactly what you asked, Princess.”

“I know. Thank you…”

“You need to eat.”

“Can we just sit like this for a little while longer? I feel so good right now.”

“Of course, baby.”

You enjoy each other's closeness for a few minutes. Then he feeds you, even though you don't feel hungry. And then you cuddle some more until it's time to go to bed. It would seem that you've slept all day and are well-rested, but in his arms you find such peace that you fall asleep and sleep until the morning. He's getting ready for work and you're so sad. You don't want him to go. You want him to stay with you so you can cuddle, kiss, be affectionate, fool around together. But you know that's impossible. He has to earn a living for both of you so he can spoil his girl and take good care of her.

You kiss him off with a tender kiss and ask if he's coming home for lunch.

“How can I leave you alone all day? Of course I will.”

He kisses you on the forehead and leaves. Yes, he comes to dinner. Yes, you eat together. And yes, you kiss him goodbye again when he leaves. And this time he hugs you tighter, squeezing your ass with his hands.

“It's a crime to leave you even for half a day. Especially when you're so sweet, so pliable.”

You giggle and playfully push him out the door.

And until the evening, you think about how to please him. How to thank him for everything he's done for you. He turned your world upside down, he made you so happy! He doesn't want you to do housework, but there's something you can do to show how grateful you are to him...

An idea comes to you suddenly, and you smile widely, pleased with yourself.

And when König comes home in the evening and opens the door to the apartment, the first thing he sees is you. On the floor in front of him. On your knees. Completely naked.

“Welcome back,” you coo affectionately and open your mouth, sticking out your tongue as far as it will go. Your invitation is eloquent and unambiguous. And König accepts it with pleasure.

His hands reach for his fly, and, full of delight, he tells you:

“I'm home.”

And you can't say anything back to him, because it's hard to talk with your mouth full.

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