titus danforth x female reader, cw: fauxcest, cw: noncon

the first time titus puts you on display, you shake uncontrollably. he had told you earlier that morning, “i wanna show off my girl at the poker game tonight.” that alone had scared you, as it should have. titus hosts a poker game once a month, in the danforth resort’s casino. he has been ever since you could remember. normally, you weren’t allowed in the room. he kissed you tenderly while dressing you in a soft blue babydoll, thin and nearly transparent. “daddy’ll be there the whole time. you’ll do great.”

this is how you find yourself on the stage. the stage is normally meant for live music, lulling gamblers into a false sense of safety. now, armed guards are positioned at each door, and the room only holds seven men, one being titus.

he comes behind you, cashmere sweater pressing against you. you lean in instinctively, cold from the material of your barely there dress. his lips curl as he glances at the men watching you. “gentlemen, this is my beautiful girl. say hello.” the men look at you with sharp, assessing gazes. “hello” the chorus rings out.

titus tilts your head up, then turns it so you have to properly see the men. “the rules of the game are simple. you all get to look, you bid on what tricks you want to see her do to me, and you do not, under any circumstances, think this gives you the right to touch.”

the first man raises his paddle. “100k to see her crawl.” titus’s jaw tightens. “you lowballing me right now?” the man’s face pales. “a million?” titus smiles. “well that’s more like it.”

you are gently pushed to the floor. titus stands a few feet away. “crawl to daddy, sweetheart.” you do. your cheeks burn and your knees ache, but you do.

the next man raises his paddle. “five million to see her gag on your cock.” titus tilts his head and looks down at you. “c’mon, baby. you’ve done it before.” you reach out to undo his pants, but he beats you to it. he takes your face between meaty palms, rough, and moves your head so your nose is touching his pelvic bone. you sputter, try to press at his thighs. it is futile. he keeps moving your head, cock sliding down your throat as tears well in your eyes.

another man raises the paddle, just as titus finishes. he doesn’t remove his cock. you know you’re supposed to swallow around him, throat constricting. you do it. “seven million to see you fingerfuck her.”

titus picks you up by the wrist. you shake your head into his chest. “no more… ‘s embarrassing.” titus coos. “oh, baby. there’s nothing to be embarrassed of. dad’s friends are just looking at how pretty you are. nothing bad about that.” he wipes the tears from your face and kisses your hair. “you’re doing so well. daddy’s so proud of you.”

he bends you over the podium. your mouth goes slack as he presses two fingers into you. your head falls forward. “see what i mean? she’s so obedient. she’ll fuss, sure, but she’ll do whatever i ask of her.” the men nod approvingly. he curls his fingers. you screw your eyes shut, close. “trying to fucking milk my fingers. attagirl.”

oh….. well yes!!!

titus danforth x female reader, cw: fauxcest

you come to titus with the idea when he was having lunch. steak. extremely rare. sometimes, you thought he did this just so you’d see him with blood on his teeth. all the same, you came with a brochure for a university in the area that allowed hybrid programs. you weren’t stupid. you knew there was no way he let you live on campus. you shift yourself from foot to foot. “um, daddy? there’s something important i want to ask you…”

titus smiles, sharp as any shark, “anything for my little girl.” you gulp. you can do this! daddy’s not that scary. he loves you. he— “i want to college— there’s a program— hybrid, i’d live at home, but some days i could go to class and—” it comes out as word vomit. you’re cut off by a bark of a laugh. “honey, your old man is the most powerful man alive. you don’t need college.” he says it like it’s a slur.

you steel yourself. you can be a big girl. you can!! it’s possible!. titus stalks towards you, the light gleaming off silver curls. he pinches the flesh of your cheek. you squirm. “was just an idea.” there it is. you fold like a house of cards, too frightened to betray the only comfort you’ve ever known. he knew this would happen. but he has to keep his little girl in check. he can’t have you running around, thinking independence is in appropriate subject. his voice lowers. “you trying to make dad sad, baby?”

you begin to tear up. no. no. that is even worse than making dad angry. “cause from where i stand, it seems like you don’t appreciate how much daddy cares about you.” a fat tear runs down your face. then another. then another. he brushes them away. “gonna bring one of these stupid, ungrateful ideas to me again?” your face crumples. “no, daddy.”

he pushes you to your knees, which hit the hardwood floor with a pronounced thud. “you wanna make it up to daddy? ‘s the least you could do.” you let out a sigh of relief. “yes, wanna apologize.”

titus danforth x female reader, cw: fauxcest, mdni, dadbf!titus

titus comes into your room every morning, sometimes before then, to have his way with you. he leaves the door wide open, because this is his house, his rules, and he wants the servants to hear. he turns you towards him, pulls your delicate nightgown off, presses a kiss to your head, and slides his fat cock into you, all the way. he stays like that for a few minutes. the first time he did this, you cried and cried and cried. you don’t cry anymore. you just mumble “‘s it morning already?” he nods, dipping his head down to give you a peck. his pajama shirt is still on, you notice. you wish you were allowed to wear shirts. you’re not. not in the lodge. it’s either dresses, or being in just the undergarments he picks out for you.

he presses his thumb in between your lips, and you take the cue, suckling on it. “that’s my sweet girl. we’re having visitors over today. the council. so dad’s gonna get you in that tiny pink dress of yours, you know the one. and you’ll sit on my lap the whole time. no panties, gotta be able to show you off to that,” he pumps into you harder, groaning “fucking cabal of vultures.”

titus empties into you with a shudder. you haven’t cum yet. he murmurs, cock softening inside you, hand lazily rubbing over your tummy “gonna wait until the meeting to make you cum. wouldn’t you like that, bunny? want dad to make you cum in front of his friends? show dad’s friends what a good girl you are when you want your little treat.”

he withdraws, reluctantly, and rolls off to check your closet. he comes back with a sheer, pink babydoll. it is tiny. it covers only half your ass. titus pats your face. “arms up, you know the drill.” you blush uncontrollably. “but your friends are gonna see all that.” growing frustrated, he pulls both your arms up. “that’s the point, sweetheart. wanna show off my daughter.”

once the dress is on, titus steers you in front of the mirror. your nipples are clearly visible. your pussy is fully out. he presses blush onto your cheeks. swipes some gloss over your mouth, tingly and plumping, dusts pearly eyeshadow on your lids, and finishes with four coats of mascara on each eye. he likes you looking like a doll, he always says. big eyes. pouty lips.

well yes ofc!!

titus danforth x female reader, dadbf!titus, cw: fauxcest

you were bratty the entire day. that’s what shocks you, that you got away with it for so long. you had screamed, cursed, said that your dad was way too controlling, and he had just stood there. he didn’t bend you over. he didn’t slap you across the face. sometimes he smiled. that should have unsettled you at the time, it really should have, but you don’t have the best self preservation skills, or at least that’s what dad says. that’s why you’re not allowed to drive or go out or touch sharp things without supervision.

when bedtime comes around, titus is sitting on your bed. he didn’t supervise your bath tonight. that was also strange. and worse still, no clothes have been laid out. you stamp your foot, fully nude. “you didn’t put my clothes out!” titus looks up from his phone, a flicker of amusement passing across his grey features. “oh? i thought you were a big girl now. that you curse at your old man. that you tell him he’s too controlling. well, big girls get the privilege of picking out their clothes.”

you huff, and titus picks up your stuffed bunny. “you know, big girls also don’t need stuffed animals. guess i’ll have to throw cinnamon away.” you gasp. “no! you wouldn’t.” titus smiles, and you realize for a brief moment that his features seem rather predatory.

your eyes begin to well up. you want cinnamon. you need cinnamon. you’ve held cinnamon through punishments and nightmares and had tea parties with her. “well, you can either be a big girl or a little girl. big girls get to go out. they don’t have to be supervised by daddy all the time. dad doesn’t pick out their clothes or tuck them in or give them special kisses,” he feigns a pout, “little girls, however, do have to be supervised. but they get everything taken care of for them. daddy makes sure their safe. daddy picks their clothes. daddy hugs and kisses and coddles them. daddy keeps their stuffed animals.”

you’re fully crying now, distressed at the idea of losing all the comfort you’ve ever known. titus strokes your hair. “i think being a little girl would be easier, right?” you nod shakily. he smiles, teeth far too sharp, and retrieves a nightgown from you dresser. “see how easy that was? you’re not built for being a big girl, sweetie. you know that.” you exhale as he dresses you, and lean your head into his chest. he pinches your nipple through the fabric.

-🥀

well yes he would be!!

titus danforth x female reader, cw: fauxcest, slapping

titus catches you smoking his cigar in the middle of the day. it is big and thick and you clearly don’t understand how to wield it, given it keeps slipping out of your mouth. he was supposed to be in a meeting, but gone done early and wanted to see his little girl. he clears his throat. “baby.”

you jump, easily startled. he points to the cigar, now burning in your hand. “whatcha got there? couldn’t be daddy’s cigar, could it?” you panic. “no, it’s not.” titus raises his brow. “so there’s some other man who smokes cigars that you’ve been stealing.”

you begin to sweat. daddy does not seem to be in a forgiving mood. you pout up at him. “‘s not a big deal, daddy.” critical error. his face goes cold. “oh, so i should just let my little girl smoke? that what i’m hearing?” you choose, wisely, not to comment.

he grabs your face in his palm. you shift nervously. “i’m sorry, daddy. just wanted a taste. ‘ve never done it before.” his thumb rubs over your cheek. “aw, you’ve never done it before? only betrayed daddy’s trust this once, then?” his hand cracks down across your mouth. you yelp, tears already pooling. he brushes them away. “no, don’t cry cause you got caught, honey.”

he picks up the cigar, turning it between his fingers. he hands it back to you. “well, go ahead. finish it.” you look at him suspiciously. he smacks the back of your head. “you’ll finish the whole thing. put it to your lips.” you obey.

four puffs in, you start to cough. he laughs. “not so much fun now, is it?” your eyes water. “wanna stop…” he shakes his head. “not happening, baby. you’re gonna learn why daddy has rules.”

titus moves in front of you. he grabs your legs and lifts them. your hamstrings burn. your lungs burn. your eyes burn. he undoes his pants. “you’ll be pretty uncomfortable, angel. that’s what happens when you steal from your old man.”

he doesn’t prep you. doesn’t make an effort to try to get you wet. doesn’t even try to circle your clit like he halfheartedly does normally. he just shoves inside your warmth. you gasp. he grabs the cigar and pushes it down into your mouth.” you choke. “remember. gotta keep it in, baby.” you try to shake your head. it slips. he smacks your ass. “i said keep it the fuck in.”

he pumps into you. “do you think that daddy has rules for no reason?” it’s a trick question, let the cigar slip, get smacked. don’t speak, get fucked rougher. you opt for the latter. sure enough, he slams into you. “i asked you a question. gone all dumb, haven’t you? cigar smoke and dad’s cock in you.”

he folds over you, pressing you deeper into the chaise, skin dangerously close to the cigar. “you gonna fuck with me again, baby?” you shake your head fervently. he removes the cigar. your face has gone red from holding your breath. you gasp. “no, daddy!”