⚠️ 18+ / MDNI / DEAD DOVE / William & Jackson are the Southern hunters & you’re the prey they chose
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PAIRING: William & Jackson x F!Reader (you’re the one who wandered into their trap on purpose)
KINKS: Knife kink • Degradation • Double penetration • Filthy raw Southern dialogue • Impact spanking • Blood licking • Bondage & tying up • Old camcorder recording • Solo turns (warehouse → dragged to truck → Cottonwood farmhouse laundry room → upstairs rec room with pool table → garden)
WC: ~2200+ | MOOD: Abandoned warehouse outside Baton Rouge at midnight → truck ride through backroads -> Cottonwood farmhouse laundry room at 1 a.m. → upstairs rec room with pool table & TV across from their bedroom → garden under porch light, humid air thick with cicadas & motor oil
You shouldn’t have come back.
You knew better after last time. Knew the second you saw Jackson’s truck parked crooked in the driveway & William’s silhouette moving behind the screen door that you were walking into trouble. But your feet still carried you through the side gate, past the rusted swing set, straight to the warehouse door they always leave cracked when they know you’re coming.
The warehouse smells like old motor oil & rust. Moonlight bleeds through cracked windows. Chains hang from the rafters like forgotten decorations. William’s already leaning against a stack of crates, arms crossed, knife flipping slow between his fingers. Older. Taller. Broader. The kind of thick that makes your thighs clench just looking at him. Jackson’s perched on an overturned barrel, legs swinging lazy, camcorder in his lap, old silver thing with the red record light blinking like a heartbeat.
William’s voice rolls out first, low & syrup-slow. “Well look who came crawlin’ back, darlin’.”
Jackson laughs, boyish & mean. “Told ya she’d show. Little slut can’t stay away.” You swallow. Voice comes out small. “I—I just wanted to—”
“Wanted to what?” William cuts in, stepping forward. Knife stops twirling. Blade flat against your cheek now—cold, “Wanted to get fucked stupid again? Wanted us to tie ya up & make ya cry for us, pretty? Say it, sugar.”
Your knees shake. “Yes—please.”
Jackson hops off the barrel. “Louder, darlin’. We like hearin’ ya beg real sweet.”
“Please, fuck me stupid again!” Your words came out in a yell, voice cracking & slipping. William’s free hand grips your jaw. “That’s our good girl.”
Jackson grabs a length of chain from the wall. “Hands behind ya, sugar. Let’s get ya trussed up real nice.”
You turn. Chain loops your wrists, cold links biting skin, not so tight it cuts but tight enough you feel every tug. Jackson yanks once, you stumble back against his chest. He laughs low in your ear.
“Gonna record every second this time. Wanna see that pretty face when ya break.”
William’s knife drags down your sternum, light, no blood yet—just enough sting to make your nipples pebble under your tank top. “Strip her slow, little brother. I wanna watch.”
Jackson’s hands are rougher than William’s. Grabbing the hem of your tank, yanking it up & over your head. Bra next. Clasped in front, easy to rip open. Breasts spill out. He palms them hard, thumbs flicking nipples. “Goddamn look at these tits. Bouncin’ already & we ain’t even started.”
William steps in—knife tracing one areola, slow circle. “Perfect.” Blade flat now, he presses just enough to leave a thin white line that blooms pink. You gasp. He leans down & followed his tongue along the line, licking slow. Faint copper blooms on his tongue. “Sweet little bleedin’ thing,” he purrs. “Tastes like pure fuckin’ surrender.”
Jackson’s behind you—hands on your shorts, shoving them down with your panties in one rough pull. You step out. Naked now except the chain. Jackson kicks your legs wider. “Spread for us, darlin’. Show big brother that drippin’ little cunt.”
William drops to one knee—knife set aside for now. His hands grip your thighs & spread you further. Breathing hot against your sex. “Look at this pretty pussy. Already swollen & wet for us.” His tongue drags once—long, flat & tasting. You moan. He pulls back. “Not yet. You don’t come til’ we say.”
Jackson’s laugh is dark. “She’s gonna be beggin’ in just a few minutes.” They don’t let you come in the warehouse. William grabs the chain leash—yanks you forward. “Upstairs, darlin’. We ain’t done playin’ yet.”
Jackson’s hand fists your hair, half guiding, half dragging. You stumble, half-walk, half-crawl across the gritty floor, out the side door, into the humid night. Jackson’s truck is parked close, his tailgate down. William shoves you into the back seat—chain still binding your wrists. Jackson climbs in behind, camcorder rolling.
“Smile for the road trip, sugar,” he says, slapping your ass as you crawl across the bench seat.
The drive is short in the backroads, no lights, cicadas screaming through the open windows. Louisiana heat beaming through the night. William’s driving was slow & deliberate. Jackson’s fingers were tracing welts on your thighs, teasing without mercy.
“Ya like ridin’ in chains, darlin’?” Jackson asks, voice thick. “Makes ya wetter, don’t it?” You whimper. “Please, I want it now..” William glances in the rearview. “Save it, sugar. We got all night.”
They pull up to the Cottonwood farmhouse, the old, sagging porch, it’s light buzzing yellow. Jackson drags you out, chain leash in hand. Across the gravel, up the steps, through the screen door. Inside smells like pine & gun oil. Laundry room first, washer & dryer humming, same as the warehouse but warmer, lived-in.
Jackson shoves you against the washer, chest to metal, still warm from a load. William’s behind you with his knife back out, tracing your spine. “Spread your legs, darlin’.”
You do. Jackson ties the chain to the washer handle, short enough you can’t straighten up. William’s hand cracks across your ass hard. “Count.”
They take turns spanking & soothing, licking faint welts. William’s tongue drags over one red line slowly, tasting the tiny bead of blood that wells. “Sweet little bleedin’ darlin’,” he purrs. “Tastes like heaven.”
Jackson’s fingers find your clit, rubbing slow circles while William spanks. “She’s soakin’ the floor already,” Jackson laughs. “Greedy little thing.” They don’t let you come.
William yanks the chain. “Upstairs. Pool table’s waitin’.” They drag you. Half-walk, half-crawl, across the living room, up the creaky stairs, past their bedroom door, straight into the rec room. Old pool table under a single hanging bulb, TV in the corner flickering static. The camcorder’s already set up, it’s red light blinking.
Jackson shoves you face-down across the green felt. Ass up. Wrists still chained. William ties your ankles to the table legs, spreading you wide. “Perfect,” William says. “Stay right there, darlin’.” Jackson adjusts the camcorder, angled to catch everything. “Smile for the home video, sugar.”
William’s hand cracks across your ass once again, this time it was harder. “Count.”
By fifteen, your ass is glowing red, thighs trembling. Jackson kneels behind you—tongue tracing one welt, then biting. You yelp. He licks the faint copper taste. “Sweet little bleedin’ peach.”
William unties your ankles & then flips you onto your back. Legs spread wide again, tied to the corners. He climbs onto the table, kneels between your thighs. Knife back in hand, blade flat against your mound. “Gonna carve my initials right here one day,” he says, tapping the knife just right above your pussy. “But tonight I just wanna taste.”
He leans down, his tongue plunging deep, fucking you with it while Jackson records. Your moaning was loud & broken. “Please!” You buck, head shooting up & chest heaving, locking eyes with Jackson as he records.
“Not yet,” William growls against your clit. Sucks hard. Stops. “Beg prettier, darlin’.”
“Oh my god!” His tongue lapped hungrily at your tired pussy. “William.. Jackson.. I’m your good girl, I’ll be s-so good!” Jackson laughs. “Hear that? She’s our good girl now.”
William pulls back & climbs higher. His cock’s out—thicker than your wrist, longer than you remember, heavy & veined. “You want this, sugar? I want you to tell me.”
The sudden fade of pleasure made your eyes focus on the big man in front of you, 6’3, well over 220 pounds. His thick forearms, his arm hair, the hair on his chest, scarred skin. The big country man huffed at you, “My pretty girl, you love being treated like this. ‘Cuz you deserve it.”
He slams in deep, stretching you wide. You scream but his calloused, rough hand clamps around your mouth. He doesn’t move yet, he just lets you feel the girth splitting you. Jackson’s behind your head, cock out, it’s longer than William’s, tip wider than the base, flared like it’s made to lock inside. He slaps it against your cheek. “Open up, darlin’.”
You do. He slides in, tip stretching your lips wide. “That’s it. Take little brother down your throat.”
They find rhythm. William thrusting deep & slow, Jackson fucking your mouth, both groaning. William leans down to lick a fresh welt on your hip, tasting the tiny bead of blood. “Sweet little bleedin’ darlin’,” he purrs. “Tastes like pure fuckin’ surrender.”
Jackson pulls out & slaps your face with his cock, strings of saliva stretch & snap on your cheek. “Beg for both of us, sugar.”
“Both of you!! I need it… Please!—”
William pulls out, flipping you again. Jackson lies back on the table & pulls you on top. His cock slides into your cunt, his long tip flaring wide, stretching you differently. William’s thicker head nudging your ass. “Relax, darlin’. Gonna fill ya up real good.”
He pushes in, slowly, inch by burning inch. You’re sobbing, full beyond reason. They start moving at opposite rhythms first, William’s thicker cock pulsed & twitched in your tight ass, Jackson’s is longer, his tip was a bit wider than the base & your pussy made a flicking, wet sound every time your ass slammed down on his pelvis.
It reached deeper than William’s, you could feel his tip knocking just above your bellybutton. They began syncing deep & brutal. Jackson’s big hands on your hips, William’s on your throat, squeezing just enough.
“Come for us,” William growls. “Come like the filthy little slut ya are.” You shatter but their hands hold you in place while you scream & go limp, squirting around them, walls clamping hard. They follow, still thrusting through their own orgasms, flooding you from both ends, seed overflowing in hot ropes. Cocks twitching & still stretching you
They pull out slowly, leaving you gaping & dripping. William licks a fresh scratch on your back. Jackson unties you. “Clean up, sweet thing,” William says, voice calm. “Don’t be late tomorrow night. We got big plans for ya, darlin’.”
The house echoes empty. You’re left trembling on the pool table. Something seemed to shift in their demeanor.
William grabs the chain leash again, yanking you off the table. “Outside, darlin’. Garden’s waitin’.”
Jackson’s hand fists your hair, dragging you down the hall, past their closet, down the stairs, out the back door. The garden is overgrown, moonlight on tomato vines, old swing creaking in the breeze. Porch light buzzes yellow.
They push you onto the grass thats soft from recent rain. Jackson ties the chain to the porch railing short enough you’re on all fours. William’s knife traces your spine again, stinging lines that bead tiny drops of blood. He licks one & you felt his teeth on your spine. “Sweet little bleedin’ darlin’,” he purrs. “Tastes like home.”
Jackson’s behind you, his cock teasing your swollen entrance. “Beg for it, sugar.”
“Please.. I can’t take it any—”
Jackson spanks you & you lost your train of thought after the pain whispered. Jackson pulled your hair back & spoke directly into your ear, “Don’t say that,” William’s thicker length nudges your ass. “Take us like a good girl. You got it, baby.”
They push in, slow at first, then deep, brutal. Double penetration in the open air, crickets & cicadas are your only witnesses. They fuck you raw, spanking, licking welts, whispering filthy praise until you’re sobbing, begging, coming undone under the porch light.
When they finish flooding you again, they untie you. William kisses your forehead, gentle now. “Go home, darlin’,” he says. “But you come on back tomorrow. We ain’t done claimin’ ya.”
You stumble away. The night swallows you whole.
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