#dom!august

Once you were in the elements again, you were made more grateful for the change of shoes and socks as August escorted you back to the SUV. He was quiet, and if he was afraid, he didn’t show it. You couldn’t trust the CIA. August made that much certain, but could you him? August had a secret identity, John Larkin, which made no sense. Wouldn’t the CIA know about that, being as their entire purpose was to gather intelligence, but they didn’t even know that one of their Agents had a secret identity?

As August got into the driver's seat again, he carefully pulled out of the space. His posture was relaxed, as if this he was on a Sunday drive through town.

August had explained the whole plan. There was no way that you could trade in the car you were in. It was likely that whoever the leak was could track your location using it, so you weren’t out of the woods yet. You need a new ride, one that August knew for sure wouldn’t have a GPS tracking device installed by the government. Now days all vehicles came with a standard GPS system but it was nothing like the technology the CIA had.

Coming to a stop at the intersection, instead of turning into the car dealership, August pulled into the gas station and parked at the back near the dumpsters again.

“I want you to stay here.”

You swallowed. He was leaving you here all alone. What if someone saw you, potentially recognized you from tv and called the police?

You didn’t know if they were looking for you, but you had the feeling they probably were. If someone could get inside the prison to attempt killing you, what were the chances there wasn’t someone else to take their place? You didn’t trust it and August saw as much on your face.

“I’ve been listening to the news all night. If they were going to report your escape, they would have done it already.”

That didn’t make you feel any safer.

August leaned across the console and popped the glove box open. The usual suspects were all inside, except for two things. One was a gun which August took a stuck into the back of his pants and another was an envelope.

Taking the envelope from inside the glove box, he presented you with a fifty-dollar bill from its interior.

“Go into the gas station, get yourself some food, a coffee, pop. Whatever. Waste some time in there, spend a few bucks and then come back to the SUV. When I’m finished at the car dealership, I’ll come and collect you. Just act normal. You’re not an escaped convict, your just on your lunch break killing some time before you go back to work. Ok?”

Maybe it was years of working with CIA and learning facial cues, or you were just that easy to read. August folded the bill in his hand, before his fingers caught your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“YN, I will not let anything happen to you.”

“You promise?”

You did not know what possessed you to ask him, but it was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You always prided yourself on not needing anyone, regardless that having someone to lean on was part of your most intimate fantasies. From a young age, you learned that the only person you could depend on was yourself. No promises made; no promises broken. Sometimes, it wasn’t a lack of compassion or sympathy, but people had their own problems and they were too busy to drop everything to help someone. You needed to be dependent because you didn’t know any other way to live.

His thumb and pointed fingers caressed your chin and in the most confident tone, he said, “I promise.”

His eyes said it all if you didn’t believe your ears. August Walker would not put you in any more danger than you were already in. He would keep you safe until all this was over. As something else lingered in his deep blue eyes, you tried to place it but he was already turning to exist the vehicle.

Cold air hit you in the face as you leaned back in your seat. The sudden silence inside the vehicle made your stomach drop, and you had to fight not to have a panic attack as you looked out the window, watching August walk through the parking lot and then stop at the sidewalk. He looked both ways before crossing the street and you couldn’t stop the sudden urge to rush to him and beg him not to go.

Maybe it was everything from the last twenty-four hours, but you had the silliest notion that if he got to that car dealership, maybe you would never see him again.

What if all this was just a rouse and August was going to call the police once he reached the dealership? But then, what he’d said rang clear in your mind again.

He was asking you to trust him and you had no other choice.

It took a few minutes of heavy breathing before you reached over the center console and took the keys out of the ignition before sliding them into your pocket and opening the car door. You would do what August told you–no matter what your heart said, you couldn’t trust that organ. It had already gotten you into enough trouble. You listened to your gut. August told you to go inside and waste time, so that was what you would do.

On shaky legs, you entered the gas station. A cursory glance toward the registers told you that the attendants weren’t reaching for their cell phones or watching you like a hawk does a field mouse. They were waiting on customers, paying you little to no mind at all.

Slipping toward the back where the coolers were, you tried to force yourself to look casual. The fifty dollars August left you was crushed in your palm inside your jacket pocket as you looked at the drinks. Nothing was appetizing. You were too anxious, but you knew you needed to hydrate, and you also needed to keep your strength up. What if you and August needed to run from someone on foot?

As you walked around the aisle, you began a small collection. Peanut butter crackers, a Payday candy bar, a Hershey’s with almonds. A single serve sleeve of Oreos and Ritz crackers. You got yourself an iced coffee from the machine–even though it wasn’t really iced coffee. It was more like a milk shake disguised in coffee flavored ice cream. Fuck it. You’d been in prison. You deserved this goddamn bit.

On a whim, you got an apple, a banana and a bottle of water too.

Sliding up to the counter, you dumped the contents onto the counter clumsily and didn’t look the cashier in the eye while they rang you up, but you were watching them, regardless. The woman never looked up at you, not even when she rattled off the total and needed to use one of the counter fit markers on the fifty-dollar bill.

You collected your change and stuffed it in your pocket before grabbing the sack and your ice cream coffee and hurried back outside to the SUV.

You couldn’t see August from across the street and fear tried to gurgle up in your stomach under the guise of stomach acid.

Instead of getting in the passenger seat, you climbed into the driver's seat and angled yourself to look out toward the dealership. You weren’t even aware you’d eaten all the peanut butter crackers until your fingers bumped your teeth. You’d eaten a hearty dinner last night, but it was nearing mid-day now. The unforeseen pitfalls of prison life were the system had reprogrammed your stomach with a routine of its own. You were used to eating at a certain time, three times a day, and a meal of peanut butter crackers, a banana, and iced coffee were the first things to hit your stomach.

Perhaps there was something to being hungry because as your stomach filled up and you drank some of the water, you felt a little better when a black Ford Explorer pulled into the space behind you.

It was August.

The entire exchange had taken thirty minutes at the most as you pushed the driver's side door open and hopped out.

“Toss the keys in the dumpster over there.”

August instructed you from the passenger window.

You nodded, hurrying over, and tossing the keys to the SUV inside before hurrying back to the Ford and climbed inside.

“Did…everything go, okay?”

He had the car, but who knew? Was August confident enough to just steal a car at gunpoint and then casually drive across the street to pick up his cohort? Maybe, but his smile told you yes.

“I told you, it’s going to be fine. Now, we need to get as far away from this area as we can. I don’t know who might track us and I’d rather not be here when they put boots to the pavement.”

---

No matter how many times you offered, August wouldn’t let you drive. Insisting that he was fine for a few more hours, and then a few more hours turned into all day. You didn’t know how he did it, keeping himself awake–staying finely tuned on the road.

You hated road trips, even as a kid. It wasn’t anything to do with getting sick; it was that your ass went numb and no matter what, you eventually always fell asleep because of boredom.

The sun disappeared and soon the interior of the car was lit by the dim glow of the console lights. The dashboard clock said it was nine pm when August stretched his back and flicked his blinker to get off the interstate.

A string of motels lined the off ramp, and he pulled into the second one, a Days Inn.

“How about some room service and a shower?”

August looked at you, a tired, bemused smile on his lips as he pulled into an empty parking space.

Food, a hot shower, a bed that wasn’t a cot? It sounded like a dream come true. You felt exhausted, bone weary tired considering you literally did nothing. August wouldn’t even let you drive.

“It sounds great to me, but I know you’ve got to be absolutely exhausted. Tomorrow, please, let me take turns driving for a few hours.”

You were almost begging him.

It didn’t feel right allowing August to shoulder all of this. There was literally nothing else you could do. If he let you drive for a few hours, maybe that might help your feelings. It was a sin almost, the way you held so much guilt and shame. It made you feel useless, as if you were not good for anything in this endeavor.

August tilted his head toward you, his eyes shielded. “I’ll think about it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh as you got out of the car and stretched, twisting, and turning as the joints popped back into their appropriate alignment.

“That sounds painful.”

You glanced back at August, unaware that he was standing so close.

“It’s fine.” You said.

He’d let out a long, breathy grunt after getting out of the car. He was larger than you and his legs were much longer as well. Surely, he didn’t enjoy sitting like that for hours.

“It’s you I’m worried about.”

You commented offhandedly as the two of you walked, both a little stiff legged, toward the canopy that hung over the hotels entry way.

“I’m used to it.”

He grabbed the door and held it open for you and you scurried inside. You were almost certain you were somewhere in Tennessee, but you could have been mistaken. At some point, all the signs blended and who knew how far August had driven while you were nodding off in the passenger seat.

“Looking the way you look?” You asked. Of course, the look of skepticism was easily read all over your face as you gave him a once over. “I highly doubt that.”

August’s chest puffed out proudly.

“You would be surprised by the amount of loafing around there is involved in my work. More than half the field agents I work with look like the Pillsbury doughboy. I’m just holding off my impending heart attack by forcing myself to the gym.”

August handled checking in. Of course, you overheard the arrangement. A man and a woman checking into a motel. Right now, you and August were under aliases as husband and wife. You would be sleeping in the same bed.

At this point, you were too tired to care if August slept in the same bed as you. All you wanted was an end to this nightmare and if bunking down with a hunky CIA agent was what got the job done, then you were happy to oblige.

Two keycards were issued and you slipped one into the pocket of your jacket while you and August went up the elevator.

“What do you want to eat?”

He was looking at the menu the second the two of you reached the room and you were in the bathroom. You’d been holding your bladder for hours and the closeness and possibly made you feel a little too comfortable as you spoke through the slit in the bathroom door.

“Anything, honestly. I’m not picky.”

You were starving, your stomach made some incredibly unladylike noises and had been for the last several hours as you began to strip out of your clothes, carefully hanging them up on the towel rod because you didn’t have anything else to change into. You threw away your scrubs at the gas station and you wouldn’t have wanted to put them back on anyway. Instead, you would just sleep in your clothes.

The shower did wonders for your spirits. Beneath the hot, weak spray – which you were used to in prison – you could actually see a way out of this.

August reasoned that by tomorrow or possibly the next day, the two of you would have made it to his home in Wyoming and from there, he could start gathering intelligence against Ransom and whom ever he was paying off at the CIA but it was still too soon to bring someone from the higher ups in, August needed to know every facet of this operation before he contacted the bureau. One day, and hopefully soon, you would be safe from Ransom, August wouldn’t be in hiding, and both of you could go about your lives.

You could already smell the food when you stepped out of the shower and dried off, noticing for the first time that there were robes hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Suddenly, your night just got one hundred percent better. You didn’t have to sleep in your jeans.

Sliding it over your arms, you finished drying your hair with the towel and slowly made your way out of the bathroom. August was sitting on the side of the bed, drinking something from a Styrofoam cup. It looked to be a dark soda. “What did you get?”

A bizarre kind of excitement rippled up your backbone, making sure your robe was securely closed as you sat down on the side of the bed with him.

“Ordered something called a southwest chicken salad, burgers, fries and Dr. Pepper.” August said.

It sounded like heaven.

You and August tucked into your meal, sharing the salad between the two of you and demolishing the burgers and fries before eventually situating yourselves against the pillows.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this full.” You said. Satisfied.

Moaning, you looked up at the ceiling as you clasped your hands over your belly.

One of your legs was half out of your robe and for right now, you couldn't care less. You were sitting in a comfortable bed; in the plushiest robe you'd ever felt in your life and your stomach was full after starving nearly all day long.

He looked at your legs, but you missed the dark shift in August's eyes. You released a content sigh, causing your breasts to swell inside the white terrycloth robe.

"I'm going to shower." He said. The even keel of his tone didn’t tip you off that there was anything you had done to him, but the tension in his jeans spoke volumes that went unnoticed.

August got up, clearing away the food containers and as soon as he was in the bathroom, you pulled the covers down from your side of the king-size bed and smuggled down, stretching your legs with a small moan of satisfaction.

Your brain said now would be a great time to put the television on. It had been so long since you fell asleep to the quiet drone of the television in your bedroom at your apartment. But you were far too tired. Instead, you rolled onto your side, nuzzling your face into the pillow with a small yawn. You were asleep before you even heard the shower start in the bathroom.

---

Darkness filled the room except for the bluish glow of the tv on its stand at the foot of the bed, but that wasn't what woke you. It was a bone-deep chill that made you shiver as your feet and toes felt like they were made of chunks of ice. August must have turned the heat down in the room when he got into bed. Turning slowly, he was lying on his back, shirtless; the sheet pushed just below his navel. Even in this sparse lighting, you could see the muscles of his abs standing out in sharp contrast, the thick warm blanket of chest hair that grew only slightly thinner down his abs.

One arm was stretched above his head as you tried to turn over, thinking perhaps if you curled up again, you would warm back up since in your sleep you turned onto your stomach. With a grunt, the robe was getting tangled, and you were trying to fix yourself when you sensed eyes on you and you looked up to find August, sleepy eyed and staring at you and the entire top of the robe was wide open, your breasts completely on display.

Fire hit you from your face to your core, having August's dark hooded eyes devouring your breasts.

"What are you wiggling around so much for, little bird?" August asked you.

His tone dropped, deep and husky as his arm shifted from above his head and you watched his bicep flex as he sat up on it.

"I... got cold and then my robe was twisted." You said.

You swallowed hard, pupils blown in the darkness, but it wasn't the light that caused your pupils to swell and dilate. It was him. August gripped the sheet bunched at his waist, moving it as he turned and you caught a glimpse of the dark fathoms beneath the blanket and knew he wasn't wearing anything in the bed as his large frame closed the distance between you quicker than he should have been able to.

"You don't look cold to me," he whispered, a kisses whisper away from your lips.

He was so close and you could still smell the remaining cologne that clung to him like a second skin.

“You look, mouthwatering.”

The pace of your breathing sped up as he drew even closer. Without much thought in the action, your hand moved from beneath you, coiling into the thick tousled curls at the back of his head intent to pull him in when his lips came crashing down against yours in a hard demanding kiss.

Warm honey flooded your senses as his lips tasted yours and he swept the belt of your robe away in a quick motion as you caressed his bare, sinewy shoulder, the muscles beneath the skin rippling beneath your touch before his fingers coiled around your wrist and pushed it down into the mattress beside your head as his tongue swept past the gateway of your lips and filled your mouth.

A moan reverberated from your throat as August pulled your robe open and his knuckles skimmed over your abdomen before nudging your thighs apart and the fire struck your core again as his fingers teased your sex, stroking your folds. He tilted his head, allowing him better access to your mouth, and your tongues massaged against the others before you suckled his own and a jolt ran up your spine, his fingers sliding through the dew of your folds. Reaching the silky sheen of moisture collecting and running his fingertip over your entrance properly lubricating the heat as he brought it up to your clit and added a pressurized swirl around the swelling jewel.

Your breath hitched, a sharp pitch erupting from your throat. Your body tense with anticipation and then suddenly turning to jelly as his finger ran up and down the hood of your clit, your muscles loosening as if you had just sunk into a hot bath only to be simultaneously replaced by a tremble in your knees and thighs.

Months had passed since you were with Ransom, and the same could be said since you’d touched yourself. You had a strong imagination, but not even those vivid images were enough to block out the lack of privacy where you were. You didn’t mean to, but your brain tingled only seconds before your muscles squeezed nothing, pushed over the edge of resistance by his finger on your clit. August broke your kiss, mirth shimmering in his dark eyes realizing what he’d done to you and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“That easy, huh?”

He was still smirking as he moved his body between your thighs and the prick and burn of whiskery kisses traced your jaw while you were reeling from the quick, sharp orgasm that swelled in your stomach. He wasn’t stopping, and his tongue laved over your nipples before his fingers came to snap them between his thumb and the side of his index finger. It was sharp, almost painful, but the pain was replaced by something secondary and stronger. The tingle was dizzying as his palm suddenly came down, slipping your tit. August eyes glowing in the dark as the flesh wobbled and fell firmly back in place with a pink outline of his palm.

For longer than a few seconds, you couldn’t breathe. You’d never been struck – not in the way August just did, confusion reigned supreme. You didn’t think you would have liked that.

“Do it again.” You said.

You begged him, squirming unable to control yourself as your bottom lip trembled.

“Please, August…do it again.”

You were panting hard as his fangs gleamed in the streetlamps that streamed into the room through the sheer curtains.

He caught both of your wrists in his hand, stretching them above your head before his palm came down in a hard sharp clap that rang in your ears as much as the sting throbbed on your skin and you cried out. You were straining against his vice hold on you. You weren’t going anywhere, but it meant nothing to your body, you weren’t in control of it anymore as tears rippled to the brim of your lashes, warm and then cooling in a painful contrast that you were aware of everything happening to your body.

He was enjoying this, watching you squirm beneath them, your aching cunt searching for friction until he ran his thigh between your legs as you arched into it. Your back coming up off the bed as he rained down a torrent of sharp hits to your breasts, alternating until you were panting and hyperventilating beneath them.

The haze that filled your mind was screaming for one thing, try as you might to get the words out, only cries of pure bliss would come, wordless to your lips. Every muscle in your body was vibrating, almost levitating you off the bed.

Your face was aflame, redness seeping to the flesh of your cheeks as your eyes sprang open, lashes matted in tears as you panting. It didn’t matter how hard your back arched, squirming to get closer to him as you scrubbed your pussy against his thigh and you realized, he was laughing, quietly to himself before all the humor left his eyes and his palm struck your cheek, not as hard as the way he’d slapped your breasts but enough to sting before his fingers dug into your cheeks as he held your face still.

“Tell me what you want me to do to this tight little body, you fucking slut.” He said.

Growling as he glared down at you. You shivered, your hips twisting and turning beneath him as your feet scrambled for purchase against the sheets, your mouth falling open in a perfect O to release the pressure on your jaw where he held your face before spit shot hard and fast from his lips, landing on your lips and inside of your mouth.

A cry of desperation erupting as your head rocked back against the pillows, burying the crown of your head into the pillow.

Your body was betraying you in so many delicious ways that you'd only imagined in the very darkest corners of your imagination. You hardly had a second to think as a strangled whimper passed your hungry lips.

August was unraveling your deepest desires in one swift go.

"Fuck me."

You were begging him. You didn't think you could stand it a second longer if he wasn't inside you.

"Please..."

His fingers released your jaw. Another sharp, stinging slap struck your cheek, and you nearly convulsed with the throbbing heat that his hand left on your cheek, but it didn't stop there. It wasn't possible that he wasn't inside you and your pussy clamped down, heat flooding your abdomen as your hips frantically squirmed against him, grinding your slick cunt on his thigh. Those soft little hairs that covered his well muscled thigh adding another level of friction to sate your desire - but only by minor measures. You were desperate for more. Your nipples were hard and aching, as his grip on your wrists above your head never wavered. Instead, his assault continued. August alternated between your breasts and your cheeks. A little tap would come, then a much harsher smack would redden your breasts further.

"That's right, desperate cock hungry little whore. Grind your pussy on my thigh, little bird."

You were nearing the brink of tears, feeling the moisture slid over your temples. He kept taking you to the cusp and then he would move his thigh and watch you try to reach him again. You were so wet and your cunt felt swollen as you looked down at your bodies and saw his cock.

Long and thick, he was totally engorged, standing proudly, bobbing against his toned abs whenever you tried to get loose, to pull him close. Your thighs shivered, covered in a sheen of moisture.

"Go on then, show me how much you want it."

August's voice was nothing but a harsh gravel like a growl as he held you in place, one hand flattening on your abdomen, restricting your movements even while you tried to reach him.

"Fuck!" you said. You were gasping for air as he kept you pinned, whimpering and whining like a desperate and starved puppy. "Please August... please, I need your cock stretching my fucking pussy. I want you to fucking pound my tight cunt with your fat cock. My pussy's throbbing so bad it hurts, please. Please."

Your voice resorting to a tiny, anguished moan that was barely higher than a whisper.

In an instant, he released you, sitting back as he grabbed his cock, stroking as his other hand moved from your stomach and gripped his balls, giving them a squeeze.

"Fuck."

August grunted under his breath.

"You want it so bad, come fucking ride my cock."

He shifted, moving back into the bed on his back, snapping his fingers at you. You scrambled, not hesitating another second as you sat up, your arms slipping out of the robe as you turned onto your knees, begging, and pleading under your breath. You didn't know how he would fit inside you, but you were desperate to have him filling you. As you climbed over him, straddling his broad hips, one hand found your hip helping to steady you while the other reached around and landed a stinging smack to your rear. Your back arched, whipping your soaked cunt over the thick length of his cock, dragging your clit on his shaft.

"Go on little bird, let's see if that aching little cunt of yours can take all of my cock."

August moved his hips and the hot bulb of his cock slotted against your entrance, another snap of his hips and the first three inches sunk into you, spearing you over his length. Not stopping, he pulled you down on him and the shaft of his cock only continued to stretch you to your limits in a delicious ache that made your skin break out in goosebumps.

Despite his urges for you to do – he was the one in control, a clever kind of manipulation as he pressed his hips up and effectively burying himself to the hilt inside you as you gasped, legs trembling as your hand pressed flat against your stomach, the way he filled you making you feel drunk off a haze of lust now that he was snuggly filling your tight wanton hole.

“Full, little bird? Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You managed a tormented nod as you rolled your hips forward and ground your clit against his pelvis only for his fingertips on your hips to dig into the flesh, knowing they would leave bruises like the ones you’d be carrying on your breasts and raw patches on your cheeks.

Soon, you were both moving in rhythm together, your palms flattening on his lower abdomen, each time you tried to speed up his hands would stop you or a hard slap to your breasts or ass would slow you down. Your walls fluttering around his cock.

“August…please?”

You swallowed a lump in your throat the third time he stopped you from chasing your orgasm.

“What’s the hurry, hm?”

One of his brows arching up as the first light of dawn broke in through the window, casting your hotel in a wash of golden rays, turning your bodies orange and sunbathed.

Smirking up at you, August’s hand moved from your hip, locking around your throat as the other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you down an inch from his face.

“Open wide.”

You couldn’t help but obey as he rolled his hips, churning his cock inside your clenching walls. Spit flying against your tongue had you catching your breath as you grabbed his shoulders as he started bouncing you on his cock.

“Put your hands behind you back, hands on your ass and don’t you fucking move them or I’ll keep edging you until your screaming for me to let you cum.”

You automatically obeyed, as if you’d following his orders all your life. Your arms moving behind your back, holding onto your ass cheeks as he pulled you down until you face was against his neck, then he began to punishing pace.

The frantic sound of his hips clashing, the hard steady speed of skin clapping against one another sent you into piercing cries of pleasure. His hand at your throat tightening, his thumb squeezing with his middle and ring finger against your windpipe, cutting your oxygen levels. He felt every time your limbs would grow weaker for the need for oxygen but you didn’t fight him, instead allowing the waves to wash over you and then, his grip would slack, low growling purrs of his voice in your ear telling you to breath and his thrusts would slow to an agonizing pace. He brought you to the edge time and time again. His demands becoming praise.

“That’s my girl, so fucking obedient. Keep your hands behind your back, little bird. Don’t move. That’s right, sit pretty just like that and take my cock. Good girl.”

You were on the brink of crumbling as he purred into your ear before his smeared his lips across your cheek, taking your lips quickly, his arms suddenly locking around your back and you were on your back and August was on his knees, looming over you as he grabbed the back of your knees and hauled you up to him. His hand held your hip as he turned you halfway onto your side, angling you legs just the way he wanted them before he began to hammer into you, his other hand seeking out your clit.

“Good girl… good fucking girl.”

Sweat beaded on his forehead and chest, across his shoulders as your eyes rolled up, it hit like a hurricane, everything tingled as your toes curled up and your back arched, pushing your clit into his fingers that were rocketing over your tender bud. A tight knot forming in the bottom of your stomach when you screamed out.

Your cunt gushing suddenly as you spasmed, ejaculating over him like a faucet, squirting all over his cock as he let out a roar, his cock swelling inside you as thick jets of cum emptied within your devastated walls, painting them white with his seed.

When it stopped, you didn’t know, slowly coming to with August moving over you, brushing the sweat streaking pieces of damp hair away from your face, his lips tracing over the raw, red patches of your cheeks, his hands soothing your temple as you kissed and kissed. For a long time, all you were aware of were his lips, his hands, and the praise pouring from his lips like a prayer.

“Such a good girl, you took me so well, little bird. My good girl.”

That last part was growled, a sense of absolute possession cemented in them, yes. You were his.

“Hullooooo! Yn! Earth to YN!”

You snapped forward, startled. Your thighs were clenching together hard, the bright sunshine blinding you, your cup of yogurt felt too warm in your hands from holding it, transported into a different reality of your daydream.

“W-what?” You asked, confused.

You ran your tongue over your lips again, still tasting sweet from the last bite of strawberry yogurt you’d taken.

You weren’t in a hotel with special agent August Walker, you were sitting by the window in the breakroom of your bank job. You were just a simple teller to the good people of [YN’s town].

“Girl, you were completely zoned out.”

Your coworker giggled softly.

“August is staring at you again.” She said.

You swallowed hard, glancing at the doorway into the little kitchenette were the banks one and only security guard had come in to refill his coffee thermos.

These daydreams were getting worse and worse. The time before you were a Russian Spy and August was your target. You shook your head softly.

“Would you excuse me for a second, Candace? I… I need to do something.”

You had to put a stop to this once and for all. You couldn’t afford to lose your job just because you were mooning over the beefy security guard that was hired a few months ago to take over after the old one finally retired. You didn’t think old Ron even knew how to fire a gun much less stop a robbery in progress.

As you approached, August glanced back at you over his shoulder, like he could sense you coming and turned to offer you an almost shy – yet hopeful smile.

“Miss YN, it’s a beautiful day…don’t you think?” He smiled, showing off his fangs.

“It is.”

You nodded, glancing away as you bit into your bottom lip, maybe this was stupid. He was so handsome; would he really be interested in you?

Candance had her suspicions, and as unhelpful as it was – because your brain instantly went into fantasy mode, she always leaned over whispering that August was looking at you.

“So, I,”

“I was,”

You and August began at the same time and you laughed nervously.

“Please, you go first.” August said.

You took a deep breath and let it out, trying to remain calm even though your panties were soaked from your last trip to the twilight zone. You couldn’t believe you were doing this, but at some point, in your miserably life, you needed to take a chance.

“Mr. Walker, would you like to go out to dinner with me? I… I know it’s a little unorthodox, a woman asking a man out – but well, sometimes you need to be proactive.”

August’s smile turned into a million watts.

“I… like unorthodox.”

Beneath his beard, his cheeks tinted pink as did yours.

“Yes. I’d like to go out.”

Author’s note: All below fics have clear ties to either pre-, during or post-Mission Impossible timelines. If you’re looking for ye good ol’ super smuttiness without too much plot you can visit my The Grand Library of Kink Fic Rec list. ❤️

Pre Mission Impossible 

A drunk Bachelorette party in Paris takes an Unexpected turn when one insecure girl literally falls head over Louboutin heels for a man who is most definitely not just another security guard. [Miniseries. NSFW] By @nuggsmum

Good Girl was my first long thriller piece and it was just as exciting to write as I hope it is for you to read. A young woman starts as an escort to pay school bills. But after meeting one curious customer, she finds herself dragged down into a world of mobsters and New York big city crime. [Multichap. NSFW] 

“Next time you cool yourself down by splashing cold water in your face… wear a bra.” -- Wise words August, wise words. This sexy multichap follows Orchid as she finds August is more than just a CIA colleague to share the sheets with. Losing Control by @writingforhenry​ [Multichap. NSFW] 

I adored this heavenly fic by @killjoy-assbutt-1112. It transcends earthly love rather beautifully, and even as I was re-reading it for this fic rec list I felt the tears well in my eyes. So you’re warned; bring tissues. There Cannot Be Peace [Long fic. NSFW - graphic]

Going from motivation to mission, let’s use The New Order by @littlefreya as a smutty little bridge to events during MI: Fallout. In this fic you learn about the one August left behind while he was tearing the world apart. And boy..is that woman a feisty one. [Miniseries. NSFW]

During Mission Impossible 

Indulging in the spy versus spy trope for a bit I wrote my shortest multi-chapter yet: A Devil’s Duet, starring ballerina Anna who cross-plays our grumpy mustachio man, August. [Miniseries. NSFW]

Falling helicopters, quarrelling spies and then there’s you, caught somewhere in the middle of it all. @thecavillchronicles​‘ fic tells a tale of broken bones, wounded hearts and ..Rebirth. [Long fic] 

August sure has a weird concept of how he should Protect You. This fic by @buckysgoldenheart gives you possessive, but also slightly dorky August. And then there’s also some Scotland-getaway smut. You hungry for some moustached mountain-man yet? 

Post Mission Impossible 

Ingvild is a cold eyed killer. But so is he. Together they walk The Way To Hell, by @littlefreya​. If you’re into murder babies and lots of icy cold snow forests with some dubcon smut: this is a must read - I mean it. [Multichap. NSFW] 

Find August, save August, kill Ethan - how hard can it be? Quite hard apparently, and it’s a good thing The Apostles are a team, including Ayami, Mr. Instant Coffee and let’s not forget about those brilliant looking explosions. This fic read like a movie and I absolutely recommend it to all MI lovers out here. Ethan Hunt Must Die by @thetaoofzoe​ [Long fic. NSFW] 

'Target - August Walker. Find and Take Alive.’ The Hand And The Hammer by @thetaoofzoe follows you as you struggle to decide why exactly you’re chasing August. For your employer..or for yourself? [Long fic. NSFW] 

You give one night to August to keep Ethan safe, but August is determined to have more. Devil’s Bargain by @navybrat817​ is perhaps a bit on the fantastically smutty side of AU follow-ups to Mission Impossible, but alas, let us indulge! [NSFW] 

A bruised, broken and lost August slowly retraces his life before the fall, in The Specter by @its--fandom--darling​. Get ready for soft!August. [Miniseries] 

John, a.k.a. August, decides to lay low after his failed mission to take down Ethan Hunt and the world. But UK suburbs and holding on to a girlfriend proves challenging when said girlfriend has an even hotter daughter. Get ready for some American Beauty vibes in Lust by @toomanystoriessolittletime​ [Long fic. NSFW]

--

He is kneeling on the bed, hooking his fingers under your knees and pulling you toward him violently. He bites his lips as he looks at your pussy, sleek with arousal, anticipating his welcome invasion

“Such a precious little cunt, and it’s all mine.” 

You answer with a moan, biting your knuckle while you watch him take his huge cock in his hand and start smacking it on your slit several times while you squirm beneath him and whine with desperation. 

He enters you with one swift plunge, groaning with deep pleasure as your lush walls chokes him. “Fuck, baby, you are so sweet and tight” 

He begins ramming into you immediately, clutching you by your inner thighs with force, leaving his handprints to last for weeks. He rides into you with berserk stamina and you yip as he splits you, feeling every ridge grinding inside you while his abs flex with every thrust he makes.

“That’s right, that’s my good girl, look at you, taking daddy’s cock so well”

Sick fascination paints his face as he watches his cock sliding in and out of your small pussy. The way you’re rocking back and forth for him, the shift inside your lower torso. 

“You are so beautiful with my cock inside you.” he praises again, he voice breaking between deep groans.

Your moans are a melody for his ears and you wear, he is going harder and harder to see just how loud he can make you scream. And scream you do. Falling apart around his girth, your fingers grabbing at the sheets with despair as he reduces you to nothing.

“Yes, beautiful, you are doing so well. Now let me see you come for me, I want to feel that sweet little pussy exploding around my cock”

You can’t take so much, he is going too rough, too fast stroking that special spot inside you and that deep low voice of his makes you shudder. Your orgasm is so intense you can feel him pause for a moment as your convulsing walls prevents his movements.

“Fuck, yes!” he grunts and fucks into your with vigour then just when you feel him swell he pulls out and strokes himself urgently, coming all over your breasts.

The table is cold, and hard. My knees feel bruised from how long I’ve been trapped in that position, my wrists rubbed raw from twisting them in the metal shackles. My neck had the same treatment as my wrists; once again, I find myself manhandled into a position where I can’t move. I can feel my aching pussy, wet and throbbing, waiting for what was next.

I don’t want this.

Everything he’s doing to me, everything he’s already done, is like some horrible nightmare that I can’t escape from. He’s too large. Too strong. Too powerful. Something about him is intriguing; I can’t get the image of his scar out of my head. What happened to him to make him want to treat me like this? I’m afraid of him. My body betrays me, makes him think I want it. 

But I don’t want this, do I?

I hear a click and once more the toy takes to it’s incessant buzzing, vibrating rapidly against my cervix. I can see his arm moving, can guess what he was doing to himself as he sits behind me in that leather chair, watching. My legs spasm and my folds milk the toy against my will, traitorously seeking release. I clamp my hands together, digging my nails into my palms repeatedly in the hopes of a distraction from the edge that is so near. He said he wouldn’t fuck me if I don’t come. 

I hope he wasn’t lying.

The toy hits a higher frequency and a high-pitched moan escapes my lips; I can’t help it. The pleasure grows nearer and nearer, and I press my lips together, trying with all my might to push it away. I won’t do it.

I won’t scream for him.

He is angry, I know. By denying him my screams, denying him the fuck that he wants, I still hold some power, and I hold onto that as the vibrations reach that final level. I see something small fly through the air and clatter to the floor in front of me: it’s the remote to the toy. The vibrating isn’t going to stop this time. I whimper. 

“You know, you really shouldn’t test me, pet,” I hear his voice, slithering menacingly into the air like a snake. Something wet traces my sensitive organs, and I try in vain to pull away from the offending touch. My wrists keep me still. Fingers plunge into my center, and he pushes the toy deeper still, placing further pressure on that spot that sends me into eternal bliss every time it’s stimulated.

Still I fight.

I can tell he’s impressed by me, how hard I fight him. It’s a game to him, a power play, a battle of wills. It’s why he’s spent the last six months torturing me daily. It’s a game that I know he will eventually win. But right now, I refuse to break. I hold on to the hope that one day, I will get free.

Something sharp pinches the skin on the backs of my thighs repeatedly, and I cry out. It’s painful. I realize it’s his teeth. He always has to mark me, as if I were a work of art that he’s creating, a brand new canvas with each new position. He brushes the marks softly with his fingers, and I tremble at the touch. My body once more betrays me. The fingers trail down to my clit, circling it the way he knows I like, and I can’t help myself. My hips press into the touch.

Because I want this.

His hands leave my body abruptly and he stands. I watch him tuck his impressive length back into his pants. How can this not be affecting him? He rounds the table and crouches in front of me, tangling his fingers in my hair as I gaze at his face. His hideously scarred, beautiful face.

“I’ll be back in a little while, pet. Hopefully by then you’ll have decided whether you’d prefer to be fucked by the toy, or my cock.”

His lips attack mine, leaving me gasping for air. Wait, he’s leaving? He walks away, kicking the remote out of his way as he heads for the door. All my resolve leaves me instantly.

“No wait, please. Don’t leave me here like this, turn it off. Please, turn it off; Daddy please!!”

I cringe at the use of the moniker he’d demanded. It’s humiliating, and I hate using it. But as the door closes behind him, the toy still buzzing, my thighs still quaking, my cunt still dripping, the thought of being left here like this for hours is too much. I begin to scream.

“NO! Daddy please, I want you to fuck me; I want your cock, please! Fuck me with your cock, Daddy, don’t leave me here! I want you Daddy, I want you, please! DADDY!!!”

I was broken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trapped | Part One | Part Two | Part 2.1 | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | eviF traP | Part Six | Part Seven | Finale | Epilogue |

Tears fell freely as I watched the door open. I didn’t want him to see me cry, but I couldn’t control them, couldn’t stop them. He crouched in front of me again, his fingers going straight for my hair. It almost felt kind. Almost.

“Have you made up your mind, pet?”

I nodded as best I could, submissive words tumbling from my mouth before I could stop them.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“I already am fucking you, pet. You’ll have to be more specific.”

I closed my eyes, mentally trying to engage myself in this conversation. He was going to make me say things I didn’t want to, and my Stubbornness was fighting it, hard. I ignored her.

“With your cock.”

He scratched my head softly through my hair, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Can you ask nicely?”

I closed my eyes. Stubbornness pursed her lips in defiance. I shut her up.

“Please?”

“Please what?”

“Please”--I swallowed thickly--“Daddy.”

His face curled up with a wicked grin. 

“Good, pet. Again.”

Stubbornness slapped me, yelling at me to fight him. I kicked her in the stomach and locked her away in the back corner of my mind. She had no place here anymore. I took a shaky breath as a tear rolled over the bridge of my nose, and did as I was told.

“Please, Daddy, I want you to—to fuck me with your cock.”

The guttural sound he made at my compliance shook me to my core. I had just given this man--the beautiful man with the horrifying scar, the man who’s name I didn’t even know--permission to continue doing unspeakable things to me, and what was worse, I didn’t care. I wanted it. Needed it. I didn’t know if fucking was worse, but at this point, it had to be better than resisting.

I was broken. I was dead.

He stood up and walked behind me, rubbing my ass with his large hands, sinking his fingers into the depths of my folds. He pulled the silicone toy roughly from my body and tossed it next to the remote. I could see how coated it was, covered in the juice of my need. My walls flexed in anger at the lack of release; they’d been abandoned, and I felt empty. 

I heard the click of metal against metal and the growl of a zipper being opened, and soon felt the warm tip of his erection press against my hole.

“Say it one more time.”

“Daddy, please… I need it.”

The speed at which he entered me was inhuman. I gasped as I was suddenly filled beyond capacity by this man who, thanks to the hours of torture I’d been subjected to, bottomed out in one thrust. He was so large that I immediately came, an orgasm brought on solely by his size alone. I heard him groan as my abdomen clenched desperately around him, I felt his fingers wrap around my hips, digging deep. More bruises. More marks. I closed my eyes again, steeling myself for what was coming.

He pounded into me with fury, burying himself inside of me with relentless force. Every disc in my spine rippled upward as his thrusts grew stronger and more violent. The loud slap of skin on skin filled the room, as if cheering us on for this horrific act. My tears fell again and I cried out, whether from sorrow or pain or pleasure, I didn’t know. 

Wave after wave of that incredible pleasure flowed through my body. It left me gasping for air, my mind destroyed beyond repair at just how good it felt. I had never known pleasure like this in my life, had never felt so unbelievably satisfied. It tore through my core, it’s tendrils snaking rapidly around my nervous system and into the very depths of my soul. And I knew. I knew at once that this man had ruined me for all other men. 

I would never feel pleasure like this from anyone else. 

I moaned. I wailed. I sobbed. Stubbornness pounded on her door, screamed at me to resist giving him any satisfaction, but I couldn’t do it. It felt too good. My voice caught in my throat as my ability to speak left me. I saw white behind my eyes, blindness consuming me in the heat of rapture. Still, he was relentless. I could hear him grunting, panting, chasing his orgasm without a care in the world to mine. Not that it mattered, I was in a state of perpetual bliss that would only be brought down by his climax. 

His growls grew louder as his thrusts got slower, harder. I felt everything, the heaviness of his balls as they slapped my clit, the swell of his dick as it filled with seed, and the warmth of his fluidic essence as it spilled into my center. 

He unsheathed himself from my body as fast as he’d entered it, and held my hips still. My chest heaved, my sobs unrelenting as anguish washed over me. Stubbornness was silent. I’d hurt her feelings. I could see his dark eyes out of the corner of my tired ones, his gaze transfixed on his milk leaking from my body and onto my hands. 

He leaned over my body, resting his sweaty forehead on my back, momentarily catching his breath. His hands slid up my sore muscles to the shackles around my neck and released me from my confinement. I shuddered as his fingers brushed damp curls from my face, his lips pressing into my shoulder. 

I felt the restraints on my hands and ankles fall away, and I unlocked Stubborness’s door. This is my chance, let’s go! She wouldn’t come out. I attempted to prop myself up on all fours but I was weak; my hands, still slick with his seed, slipped on the cold metal table. He caught me in his arms, wrapping me close into his chest. 

“Let’s go clean you up, pet,” he whispered in my ear. The soft touch of his hands and the gentleness in his voice felt foreign, alien. The room spun and my vision blurred as I tried to stand, but he just swept me into his arms. I was weightless. The door grew closer, and the realization of what that meant hit me.

I was about to leave my cell for the first time in six months.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trapped | Part One | Part Two | Part 2.1 | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | eviF traP | Part Six | Part Seven | Finale | Epilogue |

I designed this table specifically for her. It’s low, and she’s on her knees; her hands are beneath her and shackled to the end of the table between her cuffed ankles. Her neck is shackled to the front. Her round, alabaster ass is displayed prominently for me; her wet, glistening folds pulsing, waiting. 

She wants this. 

She can deny it all she wants, but every denial I give her in return only shows me the truth. Her body craves me. She’s seen my face, seen the outward expression of the true horror that lies within, and yet she can’t help it. I can smell her fear, like an aphrodisiac to my senses. But I can also smell her desire.

She wants this. 

I comply with her body’s request, clicking the remote on again as I sit behind her, stroking my erection as I watch her sensitive organ fight. Her legs tense and my eyes are drawn to her clenching hands, fisting and straightening as she fights the urge to come. So long as she doesn’t, I won’t fuck her. 

But they always do.

I click to a higher notch and she keens, gasping as the pleasure heightens. I didn’t gag her this time; no, I want to hear her scream. My cock longs for it, aches for it. But she won’t do it. 

She won’t scream for me.

Angry, I turn the toy on full speed, but still she fights. I throw the remote on the floor where she can see it, showing her that the speed won’t stop this time. She whimpers. 

“You know, you really shouldn’t test me, pet.” I hiss at her, leaning forward in my chair to lick her essence from her throbbing core. God, she tastes so good. She tries to buck forward, away from my mouth but her wrists prevent her from escaping my tongue. I can feel her orgasm nearing, her heat searing my fingers as I press them into her center, pushing the vibrations harder against the place that tears her to pieces. 

Still she fights. 

I’m impressed by her strength of will. She’s shown it to me before, and I have to admit, breaking her has been the highlight of my day these last few months. I haven’t offered her what I have in mind yet, she’s not ready. She’d try to escape. I need her broken first. 

My mouth rejoins my fingers, teeth sinking into the backs of her thighs. She cries out in pain. Red, crescent-shaped marks appear, darkening her skin. They’ll be a beautiful purple tomorrow. I brushed them softly with a finger tip, revelling in the way her muscles shiver underneath my touch. I circle her clit again and this time, she bucks toward me.

She wants this. 

It’s clear to me I’m not going to get anywhere with her today and I just don’t have the patience for it right now. I stand, ignoring the painful cries of my erection as I tuck it into my pants. She needs to think it doesn’t affect me as much as it does. As she does. I round the table and crouch near her head, twisting my fingers into her locks and making sure she can see my face.

“I’ll be back in a little while, pet. Hopefully by then you’ll have decided whether you’d prefer to be fucked by the toy, or my cock.” 

I kiss her roughly, savoring the taste of her lips. As I leave, I purposefully kick the remote a little further away, bringing it back to her attention but making sure it was still in view. I hear her plead, hear her beg me to turn it off, but I ignore it. Those aren’t screams. 

The moment I closed the door behind me my throbbing member was out of my pants again and I was pumping it earnestly, the sound behind the metal bringing me over the edge as I shot my load onto the floor. 

Screams. Beautiful, erotic screams of fear; of agony. Of pain. I could hear it in her tone; she was terrified. But she wasn’t broken, not yet.

And I need her broken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trapped | Part One | Part Two | Part 2.1 | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | eviF traP | Part Six | Part Seven | Finale | Epilogue |

Thanks to: @littlefreya​ and @agniavateira​

What did he want?

A light came on, I could see it around the edges of my blindfold. I heard a low, human hum. The sick fuck liked seeing me like this. The thought made my stomach curl. 

The thud of his shoes came near and I flinched instinctively. My blindfold was ripped from my head and I squeezed my eyes shut, the light searing into my neglected retinas. I could feel the heat from his thighs as he straddled me. My gag was removed. My face was cupped by a large hand and I was drawn upwards. My shoulder screamed again. 

Something soft moved against my lips, and I realized the man was kissing me. It felt intimate. It felt wrong. I struggled, closing my mouth in a firm line and trying to pull my head away. He grasped my hair and held me, bruising my lips as he deepened the kiss, aggressive and demanding. He plunged his tongue into my mouth. I bit him.

Pain.

My temple rang and my vision blurred. I was looking to the side, where a moment ago I was facing him. What just happened? He hit me. I turned to look at him, and was taken aback. He was beautiful. 

All this time I hadn’t had a chance to fully look at him. He had a scar over half of his face, a burn. And yet, he was still beautiful. The thought made me sick.

“Someone will find you,” I said, trying to sound tough. “I have family that love me, they’re looking for me. And when they find me, you will spend an eternity rotting in hell.”

He laughed, loud and deep, and the sound was blood-curdling. Evil resonated from this man.

“Do you have any idea who I work for?” he chuckled, “Your family thinks you’re dead.”

A pit formed in my stomach. My lungs heaved as fear took over my nervous system. I wanted to vomit.

“You’re lying.”

Grating laughter. A menacing grin that twisted his face into beautiful terror. He grabbed my jaw roughly, lowering his head until he was close enough to kiss me again.

“A thorough investigation turned up an unrecognizable body, who’s dental records matched yours. The funeral was lovely, by the way. You should have been there.”

Panic. I spat in his face. The look he gave me told me that was a mistake. The hand on my jaw clamped down like a vice. I whimpered in pain. 

“Somebody needs to teach that pretty little mouth of yours a lesson, pet.”

He reached into his pocket. A circular ring the size of his palm was removed. It had two leather straps attached to it. I realized what it was.

“No... NO!” 

I shook my head. Ignored my shoulder. Pressed my lips together. It didn’t matter. He hooked two fingers into my mouth, prying my lower jaw open painfully as the ring was anchored behind my teeth. Strapped into place, it held my mouth open, agonizingly stretched wide. 

“You know, if you could be trusted not to bite, I wouldn’t have to use this gag,” he scolded, undoing his belt and his zipper. I screamed as he freed his impressive length from it’s confinement. My hair was grasped and once again I was forced upward, forced to take that monster into my mouth. 

He fucked my throat. He didn’t care that I was crying. He didn’t care that I was gagging. He didn’t care that I couldn’t breathe. He didn’t care.

He didn’t care. 

And no one knew I was alive.

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