Training Day
summary: one shot set in AU, no outbreak. You get more than you bargained for after trying to make Joel jealous. My first submission for @romanarose's Dead Dove December fic event, I'm so excited for this challenge!
warnings: degradation, noncon oral sex, noncon PIV, talk of anal, forced DP training, reader is feminine but not described, slut shaming, unspecified age gap between reader and the Miller brothers, manipulative!Joel, mean!Tommy, good cop/bad cop dynamics, brat taming.
word count: 7,700
You had a long day at work, forced to work overtime to complete the workload left by several colleagues that were out of the office on sick leave. Your feet were aching from tottering around in your heels all day. You had spent the whole drive home fantasising about the luxurious bubble bath you were going to have once you reached the house you shared with Joel. He had finished work early today and you couldn't wait to cuddle up with him and order take out, maybe watch a movie until you passed out on the sofa curled against his chest.
But when you arrived home and walked through the front door, you were immediately met with the unmistakeable sound of company. Male company. The intermingling of loud voices, laughter, clinking of bottles, and the obnoxious commentary of some sports program playing on the television. Suspiciously similar sounds to guys night.
You frowned. Joel hadn't said anything about seeing the guys tonight. What was going?
You trotted down the hallway and into the living room, the clicking of your heels along the ground alerting whoever was there of your presence. When you appear at the entrance of the loungeroom, your heart sinks with disappontment.
Joel was sitting on the sofa, manspread with a beer in one hand, inbetween his brother Tommy and one of their friends Mike. There were two more men in the armchairs and one sprawled on the floor by the couch. When they saw you they all turned to greet you warmly.
"Hey baby," Joel said, glancing from the television to you. He took a swig of his beer. "How was work?"
"Hey." You gave him a small, tight smile. "It was long."
"Hi sweetheart," Tommy sang out, tilting his head up in a gesture of acknowledgement. He gave you one of his charming smiles, his brown eyes dancing with a hint of mischief. You always liked the younger Miller brother, the more charismatic and sociable one of the duo. "How are ya?"
"Pretty tired," you sighed softly.
You catch Tommy and two of the other men look you up and down discreetly, and you know they are checking you out. You feel strange, oddly on display. Your black skirt sits just above the knee, displaying the smooth length of your stocking clad legs. Your white blouse is fitted and accentuates your breasts, the buttons straining against your chest deliciously. You wear a smartly tailored black jacket that doesn't hide anything, instead complimenting the curves of your body. Despite not being overly revealing, you know the outfit tends to have a favourable effect on most men.
Tommy is more bolder than the other men, letting his gaze rest on your eyes as he lifts his hips ever so slightly to readjust his crotch. You blush and look away from him and clear your throat. "Uhm, so, did I miss something? Is it boys night tonight?"
"Game's on," one of the men said vaguely, as if that explained anything. You roll your eyes.
"Joel?"
Joel turns from the television to you and sees the unimpressed confusion on your face. He quickly gets up off the sofa and takes ahold of your elbow and leds you to the kitchen.
"Baby, the game's on tonight." He whispers, as if it's a secret.
"Yeah, I know. But why are the guys here watching it?"
Joel frowns slightly before a sheepish expression passes over his face. "I invited 'em here to watch it. Wanted to show 'em the new flat screen."
You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him. "We were supposed to be having a quiet night together. I wanted to get dinner and just hang out with you. We talked about it this morning, remember?"
Joel sighs deeply and rubs his palm over his face. "Shit, baby. I'm sorry, I forgot."
"Gee, thanks Joel," you grit out. "Didn't even fucking consider me before you just make plans with the guys."
"Sugar, it ain't like that," Joel says calmly, gently. "Come on now, don't be mad. You go relax and take it easy, have a bath or somethin'. I'll be up when the game is finished."
"What about dinner? I'm hungry." You pout.
Joel stares at you blankly for a moment, then clears his throat and looks at the ground.
"What? Joel?"
He rubs the back of his neck and winces as he mumbles. "We got some pizza delivered. Didn't know what you wanted, figured you might wanna make somethin' else."
"Oh," you say flatly. A mixture of anger, disappointment and hurt swirls in your chest, and it takes every bit of restraint for you not to slap Joel.
"I'm sorry, baby. I wasn't thinkin'." He says softly, looking back at you and reaching out to cradle your face. You pull away from his touch and he sighs again.
"Yeah, no problem, Joel," you mumble, wrapping your arms around your waist, feeling small and worthless. Yeah, fuck you, too.
"Can I make it up to you tomorrow night? Maybe we can go out somewhere fancy and you can wear one of those little summer dresses I like." Joel purrs at you. He's trying to be soft and placating now, his way of apologising and trying to right his mistake, to sooth the sting of his lack of consideration.
But it just makes you more angry.
The thought of you dressing up for Joel's pleasure so he can whisk you off to some restaurant to wine and dine you as a consolation prize doesn't entice you at all. Joel making a show out of seducing you into forgiving him for his lack of attention isn't what you want. Especially not after him neglecting you over the last few weeks because of a big project his company has been working on.
But now isn't the right time to argue, so instead you appease him.
"Yeah, sure, sounds great." You flash him a fake smile before turning away to go to the fridge. Joel smiles back, seemingly relieved with how the conversation turned out, and walks back to the living room. You seethe alone in the kitchen.
You hate that Joel didn't grovel for your forgiveness. You hate that he doesnt kick the guys out in favour of spending time with you, even though you know how irrational it would be. You feel spiteful and jealous. It makes you want to show Joel that he is being a neglectful asshole, prove to him that you are hot enough to get another man's attention, that if you really wanted to you could easily fall into the lap of someone more caring, more attentive.
Then an idea comes to you.
You take a serving tray from the cupboard and set a single bottle of beer on-top of it. Then you take the clip from your hair and let it fall over your shoulders, combing your fingers through the locks to give it more volume. You remove your jacket and then unbutton the first two buttons of your blouse so your cleavage spills and the lacy black trim of your bra peek out. You hurriedly search through your hand bag and retrieve one of your more expensive brands of lipstick; the vampy shade of red that you've only worn a handful of times. You carefully apply the crayon to your plump lips and smack them together.
Perfect.
A moment later you sashay from the kitchen to the lounge balancing a tray on your palm, the click of your heels echoing through the hallway.
When you enter the room once again all of them, including Joel, are too occupied by the game to divert their gaze to you. Except Tommy.
His eyes widen when he sees you. His dark brown eyes lock on yours, then slowly wander down to the swell of your breasts on show. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip slowly as he stares, a slow smirk spreading across his mouth. He spreads his legs a little wider. You notice how he is clutching his near empty beer bottle on-top of his crotch, and the way his thumb is slowly sliding over and circling the mouth of the bottle.
"Well, hello again, honey," Tommy drawls. "You playin' hostess for us tonight?"
You smile sweetly at him and bat your eyelashes coyly. "Something like that. Are you feeling thirsty, Tommy?"
"As a matter of fact, I am, little lady," Tommy purrs. He's actually fucking enjoying this, you realise. And you are starting to find that lazy, mischievous grin of his quite seductive. "How about you pass me that drink you got there?"
Here's your chance, you think. You straighten your posture so your tits pop out. You slowly slink across the living room towards him, your eyes focused on him. Tommy watches your every move intently.
You stop in front of Tommy and lean down to place the bottle of beer on the coffee table by his knee, the plush of your tits on display for him. His hand reaches out to gently caress your wrist.
"Thank you, sugar," Tommy murmurs, gazing up at you with that grin that makes your knees weak.
"Welcome, Tommy." You smile brightly.
You were too concentrated on Tommy to notice that Joel and the other men are now staring at you, too. You straighten up and walk back across the living room, not bothering to glance back at the other men in the room. As you're about to enter out into the hallway, you're shoved from behind.
"What the fuck do you think you're doin'?" Joel hisses.
You can't even turn to see his face before he manhandles you down the hallway and to the stairs. You don't need to see him to know he is pissed off, though. Joel grabs your wrist and pulls you up the stairs with impatient ire.
Shit. You didn't expect this reaction. You weren't even really sure what reaction you were wanting from Joel, or to what extent you were going to flirt with Tommy. You suddenly feel silly for the impulsive idea.
But knowing Joel, you should've really thought it through before taking such a risk. You knew he could be possessive and jealous, occasionally irrational, always quick to anger. Maybe if you'd apologise and explain yourself he would understand.
"Joel, I'm sorry, okay?" You plead desperately. His large hand is wrapped around your wrist as he drags you to the bedroom, and you try not to stumble over your own feet. "I didn't mean it."
"Too late for that now, don't you think?" Joel spits angrily.
He hauls you through the door and shoves you onto the bed roughly. The force pushes you onto your back on the mattress with a thud. You scramble to sit upright and look at Joel with wide eyes, willing him to listen to your apologies and see you're truly sorry. He slams the door shut and rounds on you.
"I didn't mean it to go that far," you blabber. "I'm sorry, really--"
"Shut up," he snarls, glaring at you with any iciness in his dark brown eyes. "Shut the hell up."
With tears welling in your eyes, you purse your lips and look down in your lap, gingerly rubbing the stinging red skin of your wrist. You know you're in deep trouble. The rage radiating off of him is palpable, filling the room with an electric kind of energy that makes your gut anxious. Joel stands with his hands of his hips, his nostrils flaring, his face twisted in a scowl.
Oh, he's mad, alright. Really fucking mad.
"Just what did you think you were doin'?" He growls. "You think that little fuckin' stunt you pulled was funny?"
You quickly shake your head and a tear slips and falls into your lap. You can tell by the harsh drawl of his voice that he won't accept your answer anyway, too consumed by his anger to even try go comprehend the reasons behind your behaviour tonight.
"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Joel barks. "So hungry for attention you gotta go flirt with my goddamn brother? Is that it?"
"I just wanted your attention, Joel," you argue back.
"That mean you gotta act like a slut infront of all my friends?" He retorts sharply.
A slut, seriously? Just from a little flirting? You scoff and get up off the bed, slightly unsteady on your heels but prepared to storm out and leave the house for the rest of the night.
But you don't get that far. Joel doesn't let you even reach the door before he lunges and wraps his hand firmly around your throat. It stops you in your tracks and you gasp in shock. Joel yanks you back to face him. You squirm and try to escape even though you know you can't; the strength he possesses in one hand far outweighs the strength you have within your entire body.
"Stop," Joel barks. "Fuckin' stop movin'."
He squeezes your pulse point in warning and you quickly obey, stilling in his grasp like captured prey. His dark eyes wander carefully over your face, as if assessing you. His jaw ticks in irritation.
"You know I love you, baby," Joel scowls with reproach. "But goddamn, why do you provoke me into hurtin' you?"
Joel releases your neck from his grip and you swallow thickly, the bundle of tangles nerves thick and cloying in your throat. You love when Joel is dominant, when he is a little rough and commanding during sex; but his demeanour right now, coupled with the menacing way he towers over you, has your thighs trembling. He is so close and he's never looked so pissed towards you. It scares you.
Joel's fingers skate over your collarbone and down to the crease of your cleavage. "Thought you'd get your pretty little tits out, huh? Show the guys how lucky I am to have you?" His voice is soft but there is no gentleness to it. It is taunting, dripping with cruel condescension.
You shake your head. No, you want to say, I just wanted to show you what was waiting for you.
"Nuh-huh," Joel tuts, "no lyin' now."
"I wasn't lying."
Joel grabs a handful of your hair at the base of your scalp and tugs it so that your head tilts back. The move is swift and painful and has your eyes pricking with tears instantly. You sob loudly.
"Yes, okay!" You admit. "I was trying to make you jealous! I was angry at you!"
Joel scoffs. "What? Ya think showin' off your body like some kinda whore is a good idea? Just cos you're angry with me?" He sneers at you.
You shake your head tightly.
"So what, you like men lookin' at you? Seein' what's mine?"
"No, Joel," you whimper. "Just want you."
Joel huffs a laugh. He releases your hair and takes a step backward to let his eyes roam over your body. All you can do is stand still, frozen on the spot, your eyes brimming with hot tears. The darkness in his brown orbs is disconcerting as he studies you, causing a stab of fear twists in your stomach. Whatever is going on in his mind is not wholesome or loving or kind.
Joel grabs onto the collar of your shirt with both his hands and rips it apart with alarming agility, the buttons flying off and the material ruined. You squeal. He wrenches the shirt from your arms and it falls to the ground, leaving you in your skirt and lacy black bra.
"Joel, what're you doing?!" You shriek. He gives a little shrug and cracks his neck.
"If you wanna act like a slut, you can dress like one." He says matter of factly.
The coldness in his voice spurs you to move. You try to weave past him and spring to the door to escape, but Joel wraps his strong arm around your waist and captures you. He is so powerful that bringing you to a halt is easy, like he's swatting a fly. You squirm and yell and beat his chest with your fists but it's no use.
"Seems like I gotta train you to act right," Joel mutters. His hand holds you steady at the waist while you struggle. "Walkin' around here flirtin' with whatever man will look your way, right in front of me, fuck sake. Like a little bitch in heat."
His words sting. How dare he say these things about you when he was the one to provoke you, to ignore your feelings and needs so selfishly?
You reach up and slap him. "Fuck you, Joel!"
Joel's face turns slightly to the side from the impact of your smack.
Oh no.
Oh fuck.
That was a mistake, and you realise it straight away.
His jaw ticks for a moment. Joel slowly turns his head back to the centre to face you. His eyes appear black now, glinting with a sadistic iciness that makes you whimper and shrink away. He lets go of your waist and you quickly back away from him.
Joel momentarily shuts his eyes as he inhales a deep breath and then exhales, as if trying to centre himself. "Fuckin' knew it," he mutters to himself. "Too fuckin' young and stupid to know how to behave."
He opens his eyes again and narrows his gaze down at you.
"This is what's gonna happen. You're gonna listen to what I say and do exactly what I tell you." He commands firmly. He doesn't wait for you to respond. "Take off your skirt."
You stare at him defiantly.
"Do it," he says through clenched teeth.
When you don't move, Joel reaches out and lands a slap across your face. You wobble on your heels. Your head jerks to the side and you cry out in shock, your ear ringing from the impact. You cradle your stinging cheek.
"Take off the fuckin' skirt.'
The tears are cascading down your cheeks now. Dumbed by the shock of Joel's slap, you shakily unzip your skirt and let it fall to your ankles. You are left only in your bra and matching thong, along with your stockings and heels. Although Joel has seen you naked many times before, the energy and emotion surrounding this moment is starkly different - you feel weak and exposed, not at all sexy or aroused. You stare down at the carpet with your palm still cupping your cheek.
"Good girl," he murmurs. "Now, where's that cute lil cheerleader outfit you got?"
You frown and lift your head to look at him. He's surely not talking about the costume you brought last year, the sexy cheerleader costume you surprised him with one night?
Joel looks at you with raised eyebrows expectantly.
Oh. He does mean that costume.
"Its in the closet, to the left." You whisper.
Joel slides open the closet and rummages through your clothes until he finds the set. It hangs neatly on the coathanger; a tight white crop top with the words "babygirl" written in pink block font, and a very short pleated pink skirt to match. You remember how crazy it had driven Joel to see you dressed and roleplaying as a slutty cheerleader, something he'd always fantasised about. It was exciting and fun. But now, as Joel holds it out for you to take from him, there's nothing fun about wearing it again. Not in this situation.
"There. Put on that skirt." Joel orders you. You dare to look at his face.
"I dont want to," you say weakly.
"Aint got a choice in the matter, sweetheart." Joel clicks his tongue. "Gotta suffer some kinda consequences for your bratty behaviour. Gotta teach you some life lessons. Can't have the boys thinkin' you're a cock starved little slut whose daddy can't control her."
"I don't care what they think!" you snap at him.
Joel suddenly clutches your face inbetween his thumb and fingers and squeezes your cheeks, silencing you. "Stop fuckin' arguin' and put on the damn skirt. Now!"
Joel gives your face a tight shake before letting go. You are weeping freely now. You take the hanger from him and put the skirt on, stepping into it and slipping it up and over your legs. It is incredibly short, only covering a few inches of your thighs, the bottom of your ass cheeks exposed. You go to remove the tank top from the hanger but Joel stops you. Even with your blearly vision you can recognise the lust written on his features, the feral hunger in his eyes.
"Don't need it," he mutters. "Look like a perfect lil whore just like this."
Your cheeks heat at his words. "What now?"
"Look at the mirror." Joel growls.
When you dont move fast enough, Joel grabs your upper arm and hauls you towards the full length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. He stands behind you and positions you directly infront of the mirror. Joel's front is flush against your back and you can feel his hard cock poking your ass through his jeans. With horror, you realise he is actually fucking enjoying this, and what's more, he finds it arousing. His hand snakes around your front and palms one of your breasts.
You watch your reflection. Mascara is streaked down your flushed cheeks, your lipstick is slightly smeared around your mouth, and your lips are swollen from Joel's slap and the tears you've shed. Your vacant expression coupled with the scant outfit you wear makes you look like a cheap whore, you think. Joel smirks at you when your gaze meets his, as if he can read your exact thoughts.
"Pretty little thing," Joel whispers, his mouth close to the shell of your ear, his beard lightly tickling your skin. His large calloused hand squeezes your breast roughly. "'Specially when you're bein' obedient. Shoulda been more tough on ya from the beginnin', trained you properly from the first time you took my cock."
You glare at Joel in the mirror. "I'm not your damn dog, Joel."
He suddenly bites the side of your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin. It is painful and sharp, making you scream. Then he relaxes his jaw and begins sucking hard, bursting capillaries and bruising your flesh.
"Stop!" You beg. You thrash around and his grip on your breast tightens. Joel's other hand tangles in your hair and wrenches your head backwards. "Fucking hurts, Joel!"
Joel breaks the seal of his mouth on your neck with a wet pop, then licks at the dark reddish purple spot that is left in its place. "Needa know whose boss here, baby," he rasps. "If I gotta treat you like a dog for you to learn, then I will."
You sob helplessly. The strength has drained from your body and you subconsciously relax back against him. Joel hums in approval, taking this as a sign of you accepting defeat, of your submission to him. He loosens the hold on your hair so your head flops forward and your eyes meet his in the mirror.
"So here's how this is gonna go," Joel says cooly, "If you don't do what I say, then you'll be punished. Simple as that."
"Punished how?" You dare to mumble, wondering what could be worse than the slap or his bite. Joel chuckles darkly and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.
"Trust me, darlin', you don't wanna fuck around and find out. I got no problem turnin' you into my own personal fucktoy and violatin' every one of your little holes. And when I'm through punishin' ya, you're gonna wish you never opened your fuckin' mouth."
This cannot be happening, your mind screams. How could this possibly be Joel, your Joel, who is usually so soft spoken and caring and kind to you? Has he been hiding his true nature this whole time?
"And so when I say kneel, you're gonna drop to your knees. Aint that right?" Joel murmurs.
You nod halfheartedly. A smile of satisfaction spreads across his face and he smooths his hand over your hair affectionately.
"Now, turn around and get on the ground and kneel."
Your mind is muddled, unable to process just what is happening and unable to move your body quick enough for his liking. Joel sighs and twists your nipple through the lacy material of your bra, causing you to squeal and buck your body forward.
"What'd I just fuckin' say?" He growls lowly, impatient.
The pain snaps you into action. You weep as you turn around and carefully lower yourself to kneel on the carpet. You bow your head, meek and dejected, while Joel unfastens his belt and unbuckles it.
"I'm the only man you look at, the only man you serve." He tells you while pulling his belt from the loops of his jeans. "You'll keep your eyes to the ground whenever Tommy or the guys are over. And you'll speak only to me. You got that?"
You nod miserably. It's only when you feel Joel's warm calloused hands on your neck that your head snaps up to look at him, panicked and confused. He bends down and deftly slips the leather strap around your neck and pulls it tight, taut enough that it isn't cutting off your oxygen supply but still serving as a threat. You whimper and your bottom lip quivers.
"Joel, what are you doing?" You whisper through tears. You are desperate to know what his intentions are for making you dress this way, why his belt is around your neck, what is he planning on 'teaching' you.
"Gotta do it, baby," he murmurs and strokes your cheek with his large thumb. "This ain't just for my benefit, either. I'm doin' this to protect you, sugar. There's plenty of guys out there that won't hesitate to abuse you and throw you away once they've got what they want. Ain't no other man who will protect you and love you like I do. And I'm gonna prove it to ya."
He gives the belt an experimental tug. "Come on, we're goin' downstairs."
You want to protest and refuse, to put up a fight, but you also don't want to face the wrath of defying Joel. So when he moves toward the bedroom door with the end of the belt firmly in his hand, you crawl on your hands and knees behind him. He takes you to the stairs, and you feel more and more degraded with each burning shuffle of your knees across the carpet.
Downstairs the house is quiet. The low hum of the football game is the only thing audible to your ears. It's as if everyone has left. You're not sure what is going on, but when Joel leads you to the living room you stop suddenly.
"Joel, no!" you whine. You can't face the men dressed like this, crawling on the ground like an animal on a leash. Joel wouldn't really force you to do that, would he?
"You're okay, baby, just trust me." He says calmly. He jerks the belt tightly and you have no choice but to continue behind him.
When you both enter the living room, you're surprised to find that the only person left is Tommy - the other men have disappeared, no where to be seen. When Tommy sees you and Joel he quickly jumps up from the couch.
"What the hell is goin' on here, Joel?" Tommy demands. He frowns as his eyes dart from you to Joel. You stare at the floor, ashamed.
"Had to have a bit of a talk with my girl," Joel grunts. "Where'd the guys go?"
"I told 'em to go to the bar and we'd meet 'em there. But her," Tommy gestures to you. "Bit of a talk, Joel? About what? You got a belt around her neck like a damn dog!" Tommy snaps at the older brother. "Why's she dressed like that?"
Joel gives a slight shrug of his thick shoulders. "She didn't give me a choice, Tom. Said she was flirtin' with you and puttin' on a show cos she was pissed off with me. I had to put her in her place. "
Tommy's mouth drops open and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Is that so?"
"Yeah," Joel mutters resolutely.
There's a few long moments of silence as Tommy seems to process the reality of the situation before him.
"Can't let her be doin' that shit," you hear Joel whisper. "Gonna need your help here, Tommy."
You glance up to see the men looking at one another as if in mutual contemplation, like they are silently communicating with each other.
"I hear ya," Tommy whispers back. Then he shakes his head and let's out a wry chuckle. He no longer looks concerned for you or outraged at Joel. Infact, he looks amused, and it makes you feel sick.
"Tryin' to get you jealous cos you made her angry?" Tommy muses with a smirk.
"Yeah. So I told her I'll be teachin' her a few things. Like how she can't walk around actin' like a desperate slut, unless she wants to be treated like one." Joel mutters. He sounds so nonchalant and cold, speaking about you as if you were a disobediant pet. It's humiliating.
Tommy tilts his head to the side and smiles down at you, his beautiful brown eyes gleaming with roguish excitement. "So you were just teasin' me? Can't say I ain't disappointed. Was startin' to think I finally had a chance with ya, sweetheart."
Shame heats your cheeks and you look down at your fingers as they figet with the hem of your skirt.
"But my big brother's right, you know," Tommy adds conversationally. "Ya can't be showin' off your goodies to just any guy for attention. Wrong person could really take advantage of you."
Despite not looking at Tommy you're listening intently to every word he's saying. Joel hums in agreement.
"And ya know what? I'm feelin' generous today, sweetheart. I'm gonna help you remember to be a good girl, okay? Show ya just what could happen if you're not careful."
"What...what are you going to do to me?" You ask meekly.
Tommy chuckles but there is no mirth or warmth in his tone. "Don't you worry about a thing, Joel knows I'm a great teacher."
Your mind screams at you to run but you can't.
A minute later Joel is standing with his back against the wall and his arms folded, his biceps straining under the material of his shirt. His eyes are fixed on you, his expressjon unreadable. You are still kneeling, but this time you're positioned in front of Tommy. He has sat back down on the couch with his legs spread wide, only now his jeans are pulled down his thighs and his hard cock stands naked. He fists himself with languid strokes as he stares at you. His other hand holds the end of Joel's belt.
"Come closer and suck my cock, honey." Tommy croons. "Show me what that sweet lil mouth can do."
You turn your head to look back at Joel. "Joel," your voice warbles, "please, I'm sorry, don't make me do this."
He just shakes his head stoically. Tommy jerks the belt sharply to redirect your focus back to him.
"Come on, I'm bein' gentle with ya right now," Tommy admonishes. "But I ain't playin' around, kid. Suck my dick."
He wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and angles the fat wet head slightly downwards toward you.
"Do it, baby," you hear Joel encourage you softly. "Show me how sorry you are."
You sniffle and let out a shuddering sigh. You're still not exactly sure how this is supposed to be teaching you a lesson, but you're determined to prove yourself to Joel. Because you love him too much to let him go, because you'd do anything to make him happy, even if that means letting yourself be degraded by him and his brother.
You creep forwards a little more so you're right in between Tommy's legs and close to his cock. You purposely avoid meeting his stare; you want to get this over and done with quickly, and hope that by treating it like a chore, a task without intimacy, it will be easier to endure. You open your mouth and give the head of Tommy's cock a kitten lick.
"Come on, no more teasin'," Tommy drawls.
You obey and lick a long stripe up the underside of his length, making him moan lowly. He isn't as big as Joel but he's still well endowed, still thick and veiny. You press a few wet kisses along his shaft, your red lipstick smearing across his skin.
"That's it, sweetie," Tommy sighs, his voice rough with lust. "Put it in your mouth now."
You open your lips and take the head into your mouth, then begin to suck. Tommy brings his hand to your head and grasps a hank of your hair to gently coax you to bob further down. You follow his silent instruction but feel yourself start to zone out, your mind drifting.
You can do this.
Then the warm touch of Joel's hands slide over your thighs and your ass, his rough skin prickling along the sheer nylon of your stockings, and you realise he's now crouched behind you on one knee. You freeze. What's he doing now?
"It's okay babydoll," he cooes. "Keep goin', you're doin' so good."
Tommy bucks his hips a bit to puntuacte Joel's command. You continue to suck around Tommy's cock, bobbing your head up and down lazily, only taking him halfway inside your mouth. You're too absorbed with Joel's hands caressing your ass to really pay attention to Tommy. You still don't look at him, instead focusing your gaze on his stomach.
Then you hear the tearing sound of your stockings as Joel suddenly rips the material apart with both hands, leaving a large hole at the crotch. He yanks your thong to the side and you feel his fingers splay open your pussy lips from behind. Your pussy clenches involuntarily and your body tenses. You make a muffled noise of alarm.
"It's just me, baby," Joel whispers soothingly.
"Think I've given her enough time, brother?" Tommy interjects above you, the amusement in his voice evident. "Think I've been plenty patient."
"Yeah," Joel mutters in response. "She's ready."
Ready for what?
Your mind buzzes with dread. You start to pull off Tommy but his grip on your hair tightens.
"Hey, where you think you're goin'?" Tommy laughs. "We're just gettin' started, sugar. Now open your mouth wide like the little whore you are."
Tommy suddenly pushes your head down onto his cock forcefully, stuffing your mouth full of his girth. You splutter and choke on him, tears immediately pricking your eyes. You flatten your palms on his legs and try to push away from him but he holds your head still.
"Fuck yeah, there we go," Tommy groans. "Right in there."
He restrains you for a few more moments, then yanks you off of him. You gasp and cough, lungs burning. You barely have a moment to recover before you feel the head of Joel's cock prodding the entrance of your pussy. Joel gives you no opportunity to protest; he pushes himself inside your pussy in one swift, agonising stroke, stretching your hole so painfully that you scream raggedly.
Tommy laughs. "Aw, that hurt ya, sugar?"
Joel remains buried fully inside you as he sinks his hands into the flesh of your hips to stabilise himself. "Always so tight," Joel grunts. "Usually work her open first."
"You're a lucky man, brother," Tommy grins. He takes his dick and rubs the tip over your lips, smearing more of your red lipstick. "Me and the guys still can't believe you get to fuck this sweet lil thing."
You sob and screw your eyes shut. Joel slowly rocks his hips back and forth in an effort to stretch you out, gradually letting you adjust. Your body trembles uncontrollably while you whimper loudly.
"You're alright, baby," Joel murmurs. "It's okay, you're doin' so good for me."
You hear Tommy scoff.
"Stop bein' soft on her, man," Tommy barks. He gives you a sharp slap on the side of your face and you wail. "She's gonna finish what she fuckin' started."
Using both hands to hold your head in place, Tommy shoves his dick back into your mouth and begins pumping his hips rapidly. He fucks your face with short brutal thrusts, the head of his cock knocking the back of your throat with each stroke. You struggle to breathe around him and clutch the bunched material of jeans around his thighs. Your eyes are still shut tight as the tears run freely down your face.
Joel continues to fuck you at an unhurried pace, your pussy slowly adjusting to the unexpected intrusion. Although his movements are not anywhere near as rough as Tommy's, the mere sensation of fullness borders on overwhelming. You feel surrounded by them, your body possessed by them, split open and violated like you're an object, a toy. The room is filled with the sounds of Tommy's panting, Joel's heavy breathing, and the obscenely wet gagging noises your throat makes. If your stomach wasn't empty you'd surely vomit all over him.
Tommy is rentless as he fucks your mouth. He doesn't give a shit that you cannot properly breathe, and you fear you may pass out.
"Oh shit," Joel moans, his voice deep and rumbling. "Pussy fuckin' squeezin' me so good."
Tommy slams his hips into your face so that his entire cock is buried down your throat, and stills. Your throat constricts around him as your body is robbed of air. Joel's fingernails dig painfully into your flesh.
"How about now?" Tommy asks Joel with a breathless laugh. "She get tighter?"
"Uh-huh," Joel moans. "Chokin' me like a fuckin' virgin." His hips start to move faster and he begins to slam into you with more force, getting lost in the intense pleasure of defiling your body.
"Yeah? Well she's chokin' on my dick like a fuckin' pro." Tommy releases you with a sigh.
You cough miserably and try to suck in gulps of air. Tommy gathers the saliva dripping from your abused mouth with his fingers and rubs it over your face.
"Stop!" You manage to screech through the rawness of your throat. You use all your might to rear your upper body back. "Stop it! Joel, please!"
Joel slows his thrusts hesitantly, but doesn't halt altogether. You wish you could see his face, wish you could read his expression; maybe he would take pity on you if he could see how wrecked and sorry you are. His thumbs stroke your hips lightly, as if reassuring you he's still there, that the man you love so much is still with you.
"Joel," you sob pathetically, hoarsely.
"Baby," Joel drawls. His voice is thick and slurred, the way it gets when he is engrossed in pleasure while fucking you. "Ain't finished yet. Just a little longer, I promise."
"I can't!"
"Oh no," Tommy suddenly growls. "I ain't done with you yet, bitch. Joel might be soft with ya, but I don't give a fuck how much you beg."
He grabs the back of your head and manhandles you back toward his cock. He takes advantage of the split second when you open your mouth to take in a breath of air and then shoves his cock past your lips. He begins brutally fucking your mouth again, simultaneously pumping his hips and moving your face in a punishing rhythm.
"Won't be lookin' for another man's attention now," Tommy pants heavily, "not after I fill that throat."
Joel's hips pick up speed and he drives his cock faster in and out of you. He doesn't speak though, seemingly too preoccupied with fucking you doggystyle to add to his brother's words. The slap of his skin against yours echoes around the living room. He isn't fucking you as hard as he usually does; this tempo feels almost tender and loving, like he's going easy on you, a small gesture mercy. A few groans and moans slip from his mouth, but otherwise he remains a quiet dominating presence behind you.
You can't do anything but allow Tommy to violate and bruise your throat. It only takes couple of minute for him to reach his climax, although it feels like forever to you. He grunts loudly, like an animal, as his dick pulses and a warm load of semen shoots into your mouth. When he pulls out you are quick to swallow it, desperate to be able to breathe unobstructed once more. You splutter and sob, your windpipe thick with cum and tears and pleghm.
Joel orgasms soon after. You feel his cock throb and then spurt hot ropes of cum deep inside your pussy. You clench around him and moans rumble through his chest.
"Good girl," he says breathlessly. He pats your hip.
Tommy rolls his eyes and shoves you backwards to stand up from the couch. He pulls up his jeans and underwear and tucks his softening dick back into his underwear. He tsks as he wipes his red stained fingers on his jeans.
"Messy little whore," Tommy mutters to himself.
Joel removes the belt from your neck gingerly and lets it fall to the ground. He then withdraws from you and stands, his knees cracking as he straightens up. The abscence of his large frame bracketing you makes you collapse on the carpet, body weak and wracking with shivers, wanting so badly to be swallowed up by the ground disappear completely.
Tommy scoffs and stares down at you with cold hate in his eyes, a frightening juxtaposition to the sweet Tommy you have always known.
"Stupid cunt," Tommy snarls with disgust. "Next time ya even think about playin' up, remember how I wrecked your mouth." He fastens his belt, the large metal bullhead buckle glinting. "Joel's the only man who'd ever put up with your bullshit. If I were him, I'd throw ya out on the street, let the fuckin' dogs have you."
He steps over you, uncaring as his boot treads on your hair, and murmers something quiet to Joel. Joel responds but you can't hear what is said. Then Tommy walks out of the room and leaves the house, slamming the door shut behind him.
The house is deathly silent apart from your heavy breathing and weeping. Your throat feels raw and scratchy, and your lips feel puffy and sore. Joel's cum is beginning to seep out from your pussy but you can't bring yourself to move.
"How ya feelin', baby girl?" Joel asks as he crouches down beside you. His large hands smooth the hair from your face and his big puppy dog eyes roam over you, studying you closely. "Are you okay?"
When you don't move or verbally respond, Joel slips his hands underneath your body and lifts you into his arms. He grumbles with exertion and his joints crack when he stands up to carry you out of the room. Your head rests instictively against his broad chest and one of your hands clutches at the collar of his shirt.
"I want you to get in the shower and get yourself clean," he instructs you sternly. "But don't take too long."
Joel carries you up the stairs and you feel like a broken doll in his strong arms. He reaches the bathroom but just before he is about to set you down, you whine pitifully.
"I'm sorry," you croak tearfully. "I won't do it again."
Joel sighs and carefully deposits you to stand on the tiled floor. You wobble like a newborn foal on your heels and he steadies you with his hand around your arm. A gush of his cum runs down your inner thigh.
"I know you won't," he admits. "Because if you do, I'm gonna fuck your ass so hard you won't be able to sit for a week. Might even let Tommy or one of the others have a go, too."
"No!" You grip his shirt tightly in your fist and shake your head vehemently. You stare at Joel with wide, panicked eyes. The thought of either brother punishing your ass terrifies you. You've only tried anal once with Joel, and his dick was too thick and fat to even breach your asshole. He was understanding when you cried and told him to stop. He has been wanting to try again but you haven't been ready yet, and although he has been patient, you know deep down he desperately desires to claim your ass. And after tonight, you know Tommy wouldn't hesitate to stick his cock in without any preparation. He would most likely get off on your screams, the mess, the blood. It sends a shiver up your back.
"You've learnt your lesson?" Joel cocks an eyebrow at you inquisitively.
You nod eagerly. "Yes Joel, yes. I swear, I promise I won't do anything like that again."
He nods, satisfied, and gives you an affectionate slap on your ass.
"Get cleaned up and wash your mouth out. I'm stayin' home to watch the game. And I want you downstairs pourin' me a glass of whiskey in ten minutes. Understood?"
"Yes, Joel," you whisper timidly. His jaw ticks as he gives you one last, lingering look.
"Good girl," Joel drawls. Then he stalks away, leaving you alone in the bathroom.
You start the shower and stare at your reflection while you unclasp your bra. Your red rimmed eyes are glassy. Your cheeks are filthy with the remanents of smudged mascara and lipstick. Your lips are swollen and bruised.
You look used and broken.
You step into the hot shower. You scrub your body zealously with a soapy loufa and wash your mouth out thoroughly with water and mouthwash. You worked quickly, mindful not to be any longer than necessary, just as Joel had instructed you. He needed you to serve him and you couldn't keep him waiting.
After all, you had learnt your lesson.
The end.
I hope you guys liked it! A massive thank you to the legendary @romanarose for coming up with Dead Dove December and for giving dark content writers a safe space to explore and share their work.
