summary: you think that maybe if you run fast enough you'll loose them in the woods and you won't have to face the consequences of your actions. it's a nice thought, not an accurate one though
tags: nsfw, dddne, mommy/daddy kink, dehumanization, noncon, kidnapping, degradation, hitting/kicking/slapping/choking, puppy play, collars, mentioned past homelessness, p in v, oral (f receiving), mult. orgasms, disassociation, overstimulation, use of it/its in dehumanizing manner, gerz x afab!reader
a/n: i was putting together that list of tags it just kept going... doing my part for the dddne enjoyers o7 speaking of the dead dove tag, oh my god it's dead, probably the deadest dove i've done so far. g + l are major assholes in this you have been forewarned. otherwise i'd just recommend reading at least all dolled up for context before digging in! kisses 💋
wc is 7.1k, img src 1 2 3
The woods surrounding the house at night are scary. They were scary the first time you ever came over, turning into inky shadows after the first row of trees. Back then Mommy and Daddy (who weren't yet Mommy and Daddy) made sure to inform you that the only thing out back is the wilderness, that typically no one goes in farther than the distance you could accidentally throw a ball.
Mommy and Daddy are scarier.
You aren't sure what set it off this time. Usually your bouts of rebellion are small and have simple origins. Refusing the outfit picked out because the skirt is itchy, throwing a book across the room because you wanted to be left alone, kicking during sex because they kept going even after you asked to stop. Things that can be fixed by bending you over your table and spanking you till you apologize.
"Babydoll!"
You stumble at that word. You knew they followed you. Heard Mommy shouting at Daddy to run. You haven't heard anything other than your heartbeat and heavy breath past that point though, and he sounds so close.
"Babydoll! Don't run!"
Another spike of adrenaline at those words pushes your legs past the exhaustion that's set in. Not that long ago you could've outrun Daddy, spending your days walking town to avoid the police getting you for "loitering" or working odd manual labor jobs so you could afford to eat. Life as Babydoll has made you sedentary, the most physical exertion you do at the hands of others while you primarily lay still.
You keep going till you spot lights in the distance. That's your backyard. You must've done a big loop. Behind you can hear Daddy approaching fast so you squish yourself between two trees, crouched down low so you blend into the brush.
"Shit," Daddy stomps his way through the forest, head swiveling in search for you.
"Gerard!" You and Daddy turn in unison to where Mommy's voice comes from. "Gerard, did you find them!"
"Gerard" sits weird on Mommy's tongue. It's not a name she says often, and certainly not while talking to him. It carries a sense of urgency, she wouldn't invoke it if this wasn't serious.
"Over here Lindsey!" Her name sounds wrong too. Daddy calls her Mommy so much that you've watched him nearly mess up in public multiple times. "Not yet, I just lost them,"
"Fucking dammit," You listen to Lindsey step across the branches. Her shoes sound different than earlier, she must've swapped them out while she was doing whatever she was in the house. "Hold this and turn it on,"
You squint under the sudden brightness of the flashlight. It's not pointed at you, not yet at least, and you're about to make another break for it when you catch sight of what Mommy's holding.
The shotgun is comfortable in her grip, the kind of hold that tells you that Mommy knows it intimately. You watch as she slips the round in with a practiced hand, cocking it with no bother for flourishes. Here is Mommy, one of the two people who feeds you, dresses you, plays with you, fucks you, loves you, holding a gun she'll use to hunt you down.
You look at Daddy, hoping that he'll tell her to put it away, but he's looking at her obediently, waiting for her next order. You forget sometimes that even though Daddy is in charge of you he belongs to Mommy as well. What she says goes, and right now she says that she'll shoot you.
"Where'd they go?"
"That way I think," Daddy points the flashlight only few feet away from where you hide. "Keep an ear out,"
Mommy nods in the direction and the two move in unison, steps just barely out of sync. You curl up even tighter as they set off, counting each passing second till you loose track somewhere in the six hundreds and slowly unwind. The steps are gone now, out searching the woods for you.
You could go back to the house. That'd be the correct thing to do, to sit on the porch step and wait for Mommy and Daddy to come back. Once they did you could throw yourself onto your hands and knees and beg forgiveness, promise that it was just a one day freakout. Or you could keep walking all the way to the road. The neighbor's house is father but manageable if you play your cards right. Then you could call for help, the police or maybe some friends.
But both of those require you leaving the woods, and in the fucked up dolly brain Mommy and Daddy have made for you you don't want to leave. In here you can hide, in here no one can see you, in here you can step slowly, wincing at each branch breaking, in search of something to save you.
In search of someone to save you.
The cold is slowly seeping into your body. The hat carefully positioned on your head flew off when you first bolted and the thin coat isn't very useful against the growing chill. You've done worse before but back then you had an outfit made for practicality, not for fashion. You miss your old parka, the same one you had since freshman year, it was thick and ugly and kept you warm during the worst weather you ever faced. This coat is awful in comparison, terrible at trapping body heat and wonderful at letting cold in, Mommy and Daddy did a shit job when then picked it out.
You pause when that thought cycles through, what the fuck are you saying? Mommy and Daddy didn't pick this coat for you to run away in, nor for you to brave winters on your own. They picked it because it looked nice and they knew that you weren't going to be a cold like this again all alone. You should be thankful, they took you in when no one else would. What are you doing out here? Trying to run away? What sort of awful ungrateful Babydoll are you? The best thing to do would be to—
"I see them!"
Run. It's to run. You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn't notice the slow sweeping flashlight headed your way but now it's on you and not leaving, trapping you in its beam.
You think in a bolt of foolishness that you'll outpace them. That you can pull the same trick as before and duck down somewhere dark and they'll blast past you without realizing, but the forest floor is tricky and you aren't paying attention so you go flying as you trip on a root. The ground is cold and unforgiving when you slam into it, knocking the wind out of your sails and your lungs. When you try to stand you find your foot is caught up in the root, not budging when you yank at it.
You stop moving when someone's shoe places itself on your shin.
"Look at us,"
You don't, just keep staring into the middle distance. There's no warning for what's to come, it's just one second the foot lifts and then the next it's slamming back down, pulling a cry of pain out your chest.
You look up at them when they do that, not out of obedience but shock. Mommy and Daddy have never been cruel like that before. Then again, when you catch the sight of the gun's barrel pointed directly at your face, maybe you shouldn't be that surprised.
"Get the shoe," Mommy's words are directed at Daddy who lifts his foot off your leg so he can crouch down to free you. "Why'd you run?"
That one's directed at you. You don't know the right answer, the one that'll make Mommy and Daddy forgive you for disobeying. You don't think there is one.
I… As you speak Mommy steps slowly, never taking the gun off you, till your middle is between her legs. I don't know.
"I don't buy that for a fucking second," One foot lifts to rest on your stomach. You can see now that she switched out the nice shoes she was wearing before for a pair of heavy work boots. "Why'd you run, Babydoll?"
Your leg is free from the root now, held in Daddy's grip. You try to imagine running again, scrambling on the forest floor to escape. You want to believe that the shotgun is a bluff, That they're too nice to actually hurt you like that, but your shin throbs in pain.
I… I got scared.
"Of what?"
…of you. You say the words like an apology, trying to show how you already realize how stupid you were being.
"So you ran into the woods? Instead of coming home with Mommy and Daddy?"
"Babydoll…" You turn your head to look at Daddy stand up. "Didn't we tell you how dangerous these woods are? You're lucky you didn't run into anything out here. We don't have the gun for show…"
"What if Daddy and I hadn't found you? What were you planning on doing? It's not like you could defend yourself without a weapon,"
"It's stupid to be out here alone at night,"
"Not stupid, suicidal," You watch Mommy move the gun, shifting it to sit ready in her grasp. "Is that what you want doll? To kill yourself?" She clicks the safety off. "Just say the word then, and I'll do it,"
You shake your head back and forth. No's and I'm sorry's spill from your lips as tears pour from your eyes. Mommy and Daddy seem unmoved by your display, staring at you with twin looks of darkness. You force air into your lungs, trying to string together a real sentence to convince them.
No, I'm sorry. Mommy, Daddy, please I don't wanna die, please, I'm sorry.
The gun moves even closer and you think that this is it, that Mommy will pull the trigger and paint the forest red and pink and white with your skull. But the next metallic snap is not the last noise you hear.
"Kiss it," You pucker up your lips at Mommy's orders, touching them to the muzzle of her gun. Her boot presses against your tender flesh, not letting up as she continues to speak. "I said, kiss it,"
You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, making out with the gun. It tastes of metal and what you assume to be gunpowder, something acrid that you fight the reflex to gag at. It's an awkward shape to work at, and you find yourself heading into blowjob territory when Mommy lifts her foot and her gun.
You don't even get a moment before Daddy's hands are on you, pulling you up off the floor. By the time you comprehend your change in latitude two arms hook their way under your arm pits and have started to drag you, your feet awkwardly kicking against the floor as you move backwards. You just let it happen, you've already fucked yourself over, if you fight now you'll just make it worse.
Mommy and Daddy don't speak, the only noises from them is their footsteps. The only noises from you are your tiny sobs you keep tiny, shoving the terror into a small hole in your stomach to avoid angering them further. That's the best line of action you think, take what they give you and try to avoid further rage.
The trees turn to field eventually, the night lightening up without trees to block the moonlight and outdoor lamps casting a soft glow. The grass becomes porch steps which you are unceremoniously dropped upon, a foot places itself on your body, holding you still with the threat of what it could do. Above you Mommy and Daddy speak in low and hushed voices. You can't make out what they're saying but eventually their discussion ends. The foot lifts off and one of them leaves while the other crouches beside you.
You look up at Daddy's who's sat next to you, Mommy must be going inside then. I-I'm sorry.
He wipes under your eyes, a pointless effort against the steady stream of tears. "Did Mommy and I ever tell you about our puppy?"
No-o.
"He's a friend of ours. We used to play together, similar to how you play with us," You dislike how level his tone is, wishing he would just shout at you. "We had to stop because we didn't care for having a puppy, we'd rather have a sweet dolly to play with. You know what the main difference between you and a dog is?"
You shake your head, hair falling in front that Daddy carefully twists around his fingers before pulling it so sharply that you have to move your head to avoid it ripping out.
"A dog requires discipline and training. I know you think Mommy and Daddy are mean, but our puppy used to leave us black and blue from head to toe. We didn't just punish him with beatings either. One time Mommy and I stuck a vibrator in him and left it on high all day long. Or we used to make him sit in the corner while we fucked, ignoring him the entire time. The worst punishment we used to do was strip him down to just his collar and then tie him to that pole,"
You can just barely see the pole Daddy's pointing to.
"So baby, if you want to act like a disobedient mutt, Mommy and I will treat you like one." As if on cue Mommy returns, something metal clinking in tandem with her steps. "We're going to put you in a collar and tie you up outside for the night,"
No!
"Yes," Their other hand reaches up and grabs your chin forcefully. "This is your punishment, doll. Take it or it gets worse,"
"We won't tie you up out there, we won't strip you either. You can stay right here on the porch in the nice outfit Mommy and Daddy put you in," Unlike her tone from early or Daddy's right now Mommy's gone sugary sweet.
Bu-but… please don't. You'd take any sort of physical punishment over this. You'd take the worst they could give you, spankings with your least favorite toy till you bleed or a knife carving designs into your skin or any other sadistic fantasy they could whip up instead of being left out of their care.
"You've made your bed, now lie in it," When you look up Mommy's gun is gone, replaced by a thick black collar, small padlock and key, and a heavy metal chain.
Daddy's hand lifts up off you to take the item Mommy offers him and for the first second since they found you neither of them is paying any degree of attention to you. You bolt.
You get perhaps three steps in before Daddy tackles you to the ground. It's not much nicer being tackled on the maintained lawn instead of the rough forest, especially not when someone's cursing you out. You flail and fight, scream for the brief moment Daddy's hand isn't covering your mouth, as he wraps his other arm around your middle, holding you firm against his body. You're flipped so your front is facing up and back is on Daddy's chest. Your eyes meet Mommy's who is kneeling next to you.
"Get their neck," Mommy's hands are quick to wrap around your throat and start squeezing. Oxygen is unavailable immediately despite your shallow gasps. Black is crowding in, in, in, turning your world into a pinprick of night sky.
Then the hands release and you breathe the sweetest breath of air you've ever had. As your vision returns you watch as Mommy picks up the collar and moves to wrap it around your neck. You shake from the force of crying and let tiny noises of fear behind Daddy's hand but don't fight it anymore.
"Are we going to behave now?" It's back to cold and cruel as the leather strap slides through the buckle. "Are we all done throwing a fit?"
Uh-huh. You are. That tackle and choking killed the last bit of fight in you. Now you lay limp in Daddy's arms as Mommy collars you.
"Good," Mommy clicks the lock into place, it won't come off now till she uses the key that gets hung around her neck and under her shirt. "Now, I don't think that spending the night outside is punishment enough anymore,"
"No, barely counted in the first place," Daddy's words brush along your cheek, raising the hairs across your body. "Right next to the house and still dressed? Sending you to bed with no dinner would've meant more,"
"We can fix that though. Honey?"
Daddy's hand leaves your mouth. You're moved as he reaches for something behind him then settle back into his chest just in time to hear the shnk of his switchblade opening up. He lent it to you once when your cheap knife broke, back during that first year you'd been staying with the Ways, you'd been in awe when it cut through anything put in front of it like butter. Now instead of it assisting you with yard work for the Maxfield family to approaches your sternum. The metal glistens cold and dangerous in the moonlight, flashier than Mommy's gun had shone.
Daddy's free hand grips your dress tight, pulling it taught for the knife to cut through. When it's too far for them to reach any further with the blade they grip the two side and yank, ripping the last inches with a sound that makes you flinch.
"Careful," You suck in your stomach when metal meets your flesh. "I wouldn't want to nick you,"
You whine like a wounded animal and turn your head into Daddy's neck, searching for any comfort from them.
"None of that," Mommy pulls you back by the ring of your collar. "Can't hide from this,"
S'rry.
"Strip,"
To make it ever so slightly easier Daddy lifts the knife away just a few inches. You slide the coat and ruined dress off together as you toe off your shoes. Bra comes off next, an awkward reach behind you to unclasp it before a second awkward shimmy to get it off without cutting yourself. Worse still is your underpants. You have to lift your lower body to pull them down, tapping the blade with how you shake in fear. The second you finish kicking it off your foot you collapse back into Daddy, limbs jelly from the simple task.
"Chain?" Daddy's placed the flat of the blade back on you.
"Hold their chin," Mommy stands up, walking over to where the chain had been abandoned on the porch.
Daddy grabs your chin and tilts it up, putting the collar on full display. You're held there as out of the corner of your eye Mommy attaches one end of the chain to the porch baluster. She gives it a firm yank, testing its strength, before taking the free end and returning to you.
Her hand cradles your cheek as she kneels in front. In her hands she holds the chain. "There we go, puppy," Once the delicate ting of metal confirms that you're leashed Mommy smiles. She pulls on the chain to guide you off of Daddy's lap and onto the grass. "Sit!"
You're hot all over in embarrassment. Naked as the day you were born, shaking from the cold and overexertion, vaguely you can tel somewhere on your body you accidentally cut yourself though adrenaline won't let you properly feel it, snot dripping down your nose and off your chin that you are too exhausted to wipe off, and now making yourself sit on your knees spread and hands between them like a dog.
"Bark,"
That order came from behind you. You crane your neck back and up to look at Daddy who's tucking his knife back in his jacket pocket.
…yip. It sounds weak and pathetic. You try again before they have to tell you. Yip!
"Aw," Mommy's hand turns your head back to her but she's looking up at Daddy. She's stroking your cheek soft but steadily. "It sounds so cute," You can't tell whether to lean into Mommy petting you or to tense. Before you can make the decision her hand vanishes and gaze pivots to you.
"You lost your hat,"
Crack.
It's a fair punishment. It was a nice hat, something that was a pure miracle to find at the flea market, the same shade of blue as your jacket. Of course they're pissed you lost it, you'll likely never find another one. Now it's out on the forest floor, probably never to be found again.
"Where should we start, Mommy?"
Punishments have reason here. They're logical. You're explained what's happening before, during, and after.
"Why don't you have some fun with the dog," Mommy stands up and makes her way over to the steps. Her back is turned when Daddy pushes you down, knocking all the air out of your lungs.
"Anything?" His voice is that of a kid let loose in a candy store.
"Just don't break it before I get a turn,"
Immediately going right to the limits Daddy grabs your arm with both hands and pulls it behind you till you scream in pain, at which point he shoves your face into the dirt and grinds his dick into your ass. Your head is eventually let up and the arm is placed into a less painful position behind your back.
"Naughty puppy," A hand brings your legs apart. "Naughty, naughty puppy," Now it moves up between your folds. "What are we gonna do with you," The singsong tone Daddy takes does nothing to soften the sting of three fingers intruding you.
"You're so wet, puppy," They sound like they're talking to a child. "Is that the problem? Mommy and Daddy didn't fuck their dog hard enough? And now it wants to throw a fit?"
You groan in what is supposed to be disagreement but instead is pure pleasure as Daddy rubs extra hard on your sweet spot.
He giggles. "Thought so. The dog's just acting out cause it doesn't know what it wants,"
You mean to tell Daddy that you're not an "it" when you open your mouth again, instead a pitiful moan and saliva trails out when Daddy pulls his fingers back.
"So impatient, you gotta wait a bit to be filled, puppy,"
Not that long though because soon enough Daddy's cock is pressed up against your cunt.
"Mommy?"
You get your head to turn enough to see Mommy lounging against the steps. Her skirt has been rucked up and panties pulled off. Casually she plays with her clit, two fingers making small figure eights.
"Go ahead, Daddy,"
He slams in even harder than his fingers did. "Thank you," A jerky pull out. "Thank you," All the way back in. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou," He doesn't let up, doesn't slow, just plows you into the ground with all his strength as his thank you's loose their shape.
The arm twisted behind your back starts to feel like it'll pop out with the aggression that Daddy keep putting on it with each thrust of his hips. Your face is being rubbed against the ground, dragging back and forth across the grass until Mommy holds your head up, picking a piece of grass off your cheek.
"Is it too much? Is Daddy being too rough?"
You hate Mommy. You hate her, hate her, hate her. Hate how she's smiling down at you like you're something and not someone. Hate how she's taking so much pleasure in watching you hurt. Hate how you can see how turned on she is from this.
That hate doesn't stop you from dropping your jaw when she shuffles forward to place your mouth between her legs.
You feel like something else has control of your body. Between the way Daddy has you pinned to the ground, how Mommy holds you to her cunt, and how your mouth is working on muscle memory alone it's like you're watching a 4D movie. Nothing you can do can stop how you react, nothing you do feels real. You're so disconnected from the moment that you don't even notice the orgasm curling up in you till your legs are shaking and mouth is keening as it rolls through you.
"Fucking slut," Daddy lets go of your arm and it flops ungracefully to the dirt. "Can't get through a punishment without cumming. You're so fucking dirty," They haven't stopping fucking you even as they speak. "You wanna ride?"
"Fuck yeah," Mommy pulls you back and you suck in your first real breath in too long. "Don't let them off,"
"I won't. Wouldn't want the mutt to cry,"
The word "mutt" almost makes you. If you had a single bit of control over yourself you'd insist you weren't a mutt. That you were Babydoll, their Babydoll, that you'd be good if they let you have the chance.
Instead you weakly whine as hands turn you over, back to facing the sky. Daddy's hands land back on your waist, pressing into forming bruises. One of Mommy's arms reach over you and grab Daddy's shoulder, the other pushes on your sternum. There's no chance to get in a full breath before the sky disappears, no chance to process the change before Daddy starts fucking you again.
If you felt out of control before you feel like you aren't even a real person now. It's hard to tell who's moving when, are you pushing back on Daddy's dick or trying to get away or eating Mommy out or are you doing none of that. You can't tell, body just a mix of sensations. Aching from bruises and cuts being aggravated, overwhelmed from Daddy's fucking you after your orgasm, wet from your sweat and Mommy's pussy, and underneath all of that a current of pleasure.
Mommy's hands are playing across your torso, groping at the fat around your waist or fondling your boobs. She draws lines down your skin as she speeds up her grind, repeats it a second time. She's getting close, grinding fast but in an irregular pattern, but what sends her over the edge is when she suddenly pinches your nipples hard and your whole body jumps. She clenches her thighs around your head, trapping you between them as she continues to hold your nipples between her fingers.
After what could've been a lifetime she finally lifts off, stops pinching too. The sudden return of blood to the area doubles their sensitivity and darkens the skin dramatically.
You're pulled by the chain to look back at Mommy. She spits right into your mouth that is still hung open. You close it and swallow, feeling her phlegm travel down your throat. Dropping you she lays out on the grass, leaving you and Daddy to keep fucking.
Something about the act of swallowing Mommy's spit brings you back to your body. You can vaguely taste the left over menthol from her chewing gum of choice and rub your tongue across the planes of your mouth, mixing the taste of her pussy with the mint. Across your body a layer of sweat coats you, turning into little droplets in areas where you're especially damp. The grass is itching your back and tiny rocks press in awkwardly. Scattered across your body you can feel lots of small bruises and cuts pulsing in pain.
At the center of it all though, cutting through the rest of your sensations, is Daddy. His balls are slapping against you with each thrust. Your pussy can't tell if it wants him out or further in. He pulls out and slams in a steady rhythm. His eyes are constantly switching between staring you down and looking over at Mommy for approval.
When you get your eyes back over to her she's casual, fixing her hair with one hand and propping herself up on the other. How Mommy always manages to look so composed after orgasming will never not be a mystery. "Fuck puppy in a mating press,"Not that you can devote much attention to that thought with how Daddy immediately follows her orders and brings your legs up.
This new angle means he hits even deeper, each thrust pressing into new territory. The new nerves he's hitting light up, quickly joining the others in sending pleasure coursing through your veins. This time you can tell when it gets close, have a few seconds to mentally prepare for how you clench up, cumming a second time.
Mommy holds eye contact with you during the whole orgasm. You feel, for the first time with them, cheap. Normally you can feel their love, their adoration, their obsession over you no matter how brutal it gets. How Mommy stares you down now is like you're a second rate hooker who's about to do far too much for what she's not gonna get paid. A sex toy for an older couple who doesn't really give a damn whether your driver's license is vertical or horizontal before shoving some shots down your throat so you take it easier. An amateur video on a seedy site fulfilling a request for free that didn't even bother to include the word "please".
"We should've… should've brought out a vibe," Even as Mommy continues to watch you be fucked you can tell her words are for Daddy. "Could've held the dog down and put it on full power. Seen how many orgasm we could pull out,"
"Ye-eah," Daddy sounds broken in the right sorta way, not in the wrong sort of way the nuh-uh-uh you spew in rhythm to Daddy's thrusts sounds.
"Betcha would've loved that. Maybe, ha" You don't like that laugh, don't like the sadistic light in Mommy's eyes. "Maybe if we held it there long enough the dog would loose control and piss itself,"
"Oh god," Daddy says, thrusts doubling in speed.
"Just a dumb fucking dog, too stupid to hold it in. Then once it was done making a mess it'd probably cum again, too fucked out to realize what just happened,"
Daddy's not talking anymore, they're moaning into your ear, crescendoing as he approaches his orgasm.
"C'mon Daddy, breed our dog, stuff the mutt full with your cum,"
"Mo-ommy,"
"I know you wanna do it, honey. Breed it, breed it for me, baby,"
He slams into you and moans into your ear at a volume that makes it ring. He pumps through the orgasm, shoving his cum all the way up into your womb. It brings you to a third orgasm that night that rolls your eyes back into your skull. Paranoid of the scene Mommy just painted the second you realize what your body is doing you clench up to prevent your bladder from going. You don't piss yourself, thank god, and Daddy is slowing, orgasm tapering down.
After pulling out of you Daddy crawls over to where Mommy lazes on the grass. The pair slot lips together, kissing with all the passion of the annoying couples in your high school during passing time. If the sun was up and you were clothed and everyone more presentable it could be a moment out of a family picnic, Mommy and Daddy letting you indulge in a bit of harmless voyeurism in the park. Neither of them are cutting glances to you to make sure you're watching though, nor are they even angled well for your line of sight. When they pull apart, finished with the languid make out, they don't smile at your blushing form and pull you in to join them, they gather their clothes, not bothering to put them on, before reentering the house.
You stare at the door, daring it to stay shut. It won't, you're sure of it. Mommy and Daddy won't leave you out here alone all night. Their cruelty is measured, it isn't irrational like your parents, it's made to discipline you. The door will open, because the point is to scare you, not to make you suffer. You're bleeding, scrapes from the forest sluggishly trailing down, they wouldn't leave you injured without cleaning up. That's probably why they left then, to get the first aid kit. And maybe a blanket too, your clothes were destroyed by Daddy's knife and when you reach out to where they should be there's only dirt. They probably brought them inside when they went in to get a blanket and first aid supplies. You just have to wait…
But Mommy and Daddy have never taken this long to get their things before. Usually before you can finish counting to 100 they've come back, arms loaded with anything you could need.
You should do that then, count the seconds till they come back. Then you'll see they never meant to make you suffer, just to scare you a bit before coming back. You mouth them to yourself, watching the door.
One
Two
Three
Four…
The night time chill sets in as you count up, you curl up to try and protect yourself from it.
Fifty eight
Fifty nine
Sixty
Sixty one
Sixty two…
A minute isn't that long. It'd take you at least a minute to make you way from here to upstairs.
One hundred
One hundred one
One hundred two
One hundred three…
Mouthing the numbers is drying out your mouth and you're already dehydrated from crying so much, best to count in your head.
Three hundred twenty six
Three hundred twenty seven
Three hundred twenty eight
Three hundred twenty nine…
One time you got banged up really bad. You don't remember what specifically did it, all you remember was that once the euphoria of orgasming finished Mommy and Daddy were freaking out around you.
Four hundred eighty three
Four hundred eighty four
Four hundred eighty five
Four hundred eighty six…
That time there had been a big clamor as they collected everything they needed. Each time one of them would start back down your stairs they'd remember something else they forgot and have to turn around and climb all the way back up.
Seven hundred sixty
Seven hundred sixty one
Seven hundred sixty two
Seven hundred sixty three
That's what's got to be going on inside. Mommy and Daddy going "I forgot the…!" over and over again. Bandages, bruise cream, blankets, water, pajamas, a stuffed animal, they're going "I forgot the…!" inside. They're going to come back.
Nine hundred eighty
Nine hundred eighty one
Nine hundred eighty two
Nine hundred eighty three…
They're going to come back.
Nine hundred eighty four
Nine hundred eighty five
Nine hundred eighty six
Nine hundred eighty seven…
They're going to come back.
Nine hundred eighty eight
Nine hundred eighty nine
Nine hundred ninety
Nine hundred ninety one…
They're going to come back.
Nine hundred ninety two
Nine hundred ninety three
Nine hundred ninety four
Nine hundred ninety five…
They're going to come back.
Nine hundred ninety six
Nine hundred ninety seven
Nine hundred ninety eight
Nine hundred ninety nine…
They're going to come back. The only reason they haven't is because…
Nine hundred ninety nine…
Because…
Nine hundred ninety nine…
Because…
Nine hundred ninety nine…
Because they're not going to.
You turn your back on the door. Tears pushing out from your eyes and sobs building in your chest. How fucking dumb are you? You fucked up, they made that much clear, you've lost the right to be Babydoll. No, all you are now is a disobedient pet, a dog chained to the fence because you can't trust it. You'll never feel their soft touches again, never get gently coaxed from one location to another, never have a spoon of soup lifted to your lips when you're too tired to do it yourself, never get to be delicate and dainty in Mommy and Daddy's care again. Each thought about what you're loosing presses against the damn of you emotions till it breaks and you start wailing on the back lawn. Loud enough that there's a chance neighbors can hear you across the way, probably chalking up the noise a wild animal acting up.
Mommy and Daddy are silent and gone and you're left crying yourself into stupidity while naked by the back steps. You keep trying to force yourself to take deep breaths only to get interrupted with bouts of sobs. Moving to find a comfortable spot only to find there's only cold unforgiving ground. Huddling up to try and conserve warmth only for the wind to take it all away.
You think that perhaps this is it. That by the time the sun rises tomorrow Mommy and Daddy will come out to find you dead, frozen in the night. In an absurd thought you imagine them taking you in and treating you just the same. Taking their now perfectly obedient Babydoll and dressing them up or posing them how they want. Using all your holes without fear of you freaking out when they do too much too fast. They're smart people, could probably figure out a way to turn you into a real doll that won't rot away. In some ways it scares you, what they'd do to your dead body, in others it comfort you, to imagine they do love you enough to keep you.
A crack of light falls across your face.
Mommy is standing in the doorway. She's changed into soft pajamas, boots swapped for slippers. Her hair is down and her glasses are on.
I-I'm sor-ry, Mo-om-my. You struggle to get the words out, body not cooperating between your sobs and shivers. Mo-o-omm-y, p-p-lea-se don' ma-ak-ke me stay ou-ut here. I'll be good. P-lea-se 'm sor-ry.
She turns to look back. "Dear?"
Daddy joins to stand next to her, also changed with his glasses on and gaze focused on her. "They sound sorry,"
She turns back to you. "You scared us, doll,"
The return of the pet name warms you a half a degree. All isn't lost.
"I know," She glances back at Daddy who gives the tiniest tilt of their head. "We're going to let you back in. But!" Her eyes are back on you, Daddy's too, looks like twins in their darkness and intensity. "If you pull a stunt like that ever again…"
You nod in agreement. P-please, ple-ase, I-I'll b-b-be goo-od. I p-pr-o-mise.
The keys are fished out from under Mommy's shirt. They come out together to free you, Daddy holding your hair out of the way as Mommy undoes the lock. Hands bring you into the house, holding you close. It's like a furnace as you step in, skin tingling from warmth.
"You're so cold, Babydoll," You lean into the hand that caresses your face, chasing their affection. "Lets get you in a bath,"
You let out a tiny squeak of confusion when you head up the stairs instead of down.
"We just wanna keep an eye on you,"
That makes sense, they should keep an eye on you to make sure you won't misbehave again. It's only fair.
The bath is already full when you enter, steaming up the room with the citrus scent that all your products share. Delicately they help you step in, warm water practically boiling against your skin. None of you speak till Daddy lifts one of your arms to clean with a loofah.
'm sorry.
Before the loofah can touch you their lips do, feather soft kisses placed on each of your fingertips. "We'll fix it tomorrow, baby,"
Okay…
You stay quiet while the pair idly chatter above you. You think they're discussing a new book, something about an on-the-rise author they wanna keep an eye on. You're toweled off with as much care as you were washed, patted dry like a porcelain bowl. Daddy works on bandaging you up while Mommy does her best to squeeze all the water out of your hair.
"I don't think sleeping with wet hair once will be the end of the world," Daddy fiddles with the very ends of a strand, finished with his task.
"It'll give them a head-cold," Mommy sighs when she can't find a dry patch left on the towel. "Take them to bed? It's too late for me to wanna blow dry it,"
Daddy brings you to the bed in the center of the room. You've gotten a chance to nap here before, it's basically the perfect sleeping arrangement, enough blankets to supply a militia and the pillows and mattress have just enough firmness to support you. You only realize the issue when the softness of the sheets brushes your skin.
Daddy… You grab at his sleep shirt. I'm still naked…
He pulls off your hand gently, interlacing your fingers and gently squeezing. "No, you've got your collar on, puppy,"
You're surprised to realize it's still on, the feel of leather having disappeared into the back of your mind. The word puppy though…
Daddy unlaces their fingers as Mommy re-enters, ducking into the bathroom door she left open. In the low light of the bedroom you can see the glimmer of the key necklace.
"Fix it tomorrow" is what they said. So you're still their puppy then, not quite fully Babydoll again. You'll have to earn it back, need to be on your best behavior for at least the next day.
You watch them finish off their own night time routine from under the sheets. You keep your breaths shallow and silent, not wanting to draw any more of the wrong kind of attention. The only attention you get is when they place two pills on your tongue and tell you to swallow, only informing you it's tylenol after you show off your empty mouth. Otherwise they dance around each other, preparing for tomorrow and unwinding from today in unison till they both climb into bed.
"Good night, Mommy," Daddy hovers over you to peck Mommy's lips.
"Good night, sweetheart" Mommy throws an arm over your waist. "Good night, doll,"
"G'night," You manage to whisper, just barely brave enough to press a dry kiss onto Mommy's cheek.
Daddy has no such reservations and presses a wet kiss that you're 80% sure somehow involved tongue on the back of your neck. "Good night, Babydoll,"
They turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the three of you into the dark. You barely recognize Daddy also hugging your waist before you're out, body finally giving in after the night you just had.
Cw: dad Leon x daughter reader incest, forced piss drinking
Dad!Leon tricking you by pissing in your mouth while you suck him off, holding your head so you can’t move.
His head thrown back, slack jawed with his hands gripping the sides of your head while he continued to fuck your face, pushing more piss out onto your tongue.
Your throat tightens around him while you gag from the feel of your throat being spilt and filled by him, eventually stopping his thrusts to bury your face against his pelvis. The bottom half of your face stuffed into the hairs above his cock.
Saliva and piss slipping down the sides of your mouth onto the hard floor you’re kneeling on, before he hastily pulls himself out.
Quick to put his hands under your jaw, keeping your mouth shut. Lifting your head to stare up at him.
Girls are so cute because they’re so shy it’s easier for them to imagine being raped and forced to beg and plead and cum against their will and have the confession of their desperate need for it forced from their whore mouths at knifepoint then vocalize the words “hey we should hook up”
kaledo-art
izzy806
dailybridgerton
