✧ If you are under the age of 18, I will politely ask you do not select any of the links and leave this blog, this is not age appropriate content nor is this safe kink.
✧I would like to express the knowledge that I do not approve or perform of any of the actions the characters of this fanficition demonstrate.
✧This story might be alarming and severely upsetting for people who have had experiences with rape, suicide and death themselves or of close loved ones.
✧This story is not fit for every viewers eyes and it will be glorifying acts of trauma and characters that shouldn't be in reality.
✧If you do not wish to see this content please block #TNOSP (scroll and you'll find it is the first tag.)
✧It is clear to me that you may have read this fanfic before. Due to shadow banning by tümblr I decided to refresh my entire account here. I have been in the middle of editing The Negatives of Shooting People. It has turned from a Henry Cavill fic into an August Walker fic. This fic is not based on the mission impossible universe.
✧this is a dark original story on its own, with heavy topics & triggers. Happy endings do not happen here.
Chapter Summary: A new job creates a new problem for August who decides he needs to remind you of his power. You let Lloyd inside, and he has an offer to make.
Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Masturbation, Referenced Non-Con Events, Implied Illegal Weapon Arms Trading, Threats, Manipulation, Stalking Journalism.
Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader
Word Count: 9.4k
Author Notes: in my mind and casting, Jude Driver is played by Adam Driver. Wesley Gibson is played by James McAvoy. Brandon Sullivan is played by Michael Fassbender. Katarina Vikander is played by Alicia Vikander.
Inspiring Song: "Woman." by Ke$ha.
10:23am Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.
“These photos Miss Y/L/N, they’re magnificent. I haven’t seen quality this good since…well…never really…When can you start?”
You grinned, sitting across from the head editor of one of the smaller local newpapers.
You knew you had to find a job quickly…you were sick of the employment agency and their unhelpful attitude. You knew if you were going to remain safe and take down the billionaire asshole, you needed to be the best version of yourself.
It had been a three days since you first met that monster... August Walker. And he had seemingly invaded your every thought. He was there in the back and front of your mind haunting and taunting you with his smirking lips and roguishly deep voice.
The gentleman who sat in front of you had no idea. That was something you were okay with, how could anyone know? No one knew. You hadn’t called or replied to any text messages Lloyd had sent.
You made a resume portfolio of your best photos you’d taken since your first camera your dad ever bought you. Both Polaroid and electronic. You still hadn’t forgotten that August had stolen one of your father’s cameras from the day he forced you to cum on the recliner chair.
You knew you were inexperienced in journalism…but your photography was a master skill unlike any other.
Your successful interview, you put it up to a great sense of confidence, as well.
“Right now if you’ll have me,” you winked. He was an older man of an older generation. Clearly he knew and was a deep fan of Australian banter that borderlines the aesthetics of flirtation. You were a young woman and he was an older man, the math was simple. Bat your lashes, pretend to be coy and then slide in with a sarcastic remark or sexual innuendo.
He laughed and leant over his desk. You shook your new bosses hand.
He liked that very much. ‘Of course he would, he’s practically old enough to be someone’s perverted uncle.’
“Oh most definitely…” he said biting his bottom lip, he was milking the banter.
He was a handsome even for a classic perverted elder fellow. John Luther was a grey fox so the ladies might say. You were sure that from now on never to truly trust a man…so when he winked back and looked down your shirt- at your chest, you smiled wider, ‘predictable men…he is going to be easy to manipulate…’
You had to thank August one day…if he hadn’t hurt and humiliated you the way he did…you would never have felt the rage of all women and the desire to use your assets to get what you wanted in this Man’s World.
You sat back a lit and lifted your chest as you gave a big happy sigh while watching Mr Luther continuously ogle your chest.
It sent a shiver even down your spine thinking about it…entering a villainess era…a femme fatale story….a tale of revenge and justice.
“I admire a woman with confidence,” he said sucking his teeth, his right hand slide down beneath his desk out of view. You had half a mind to assume he was palming his dick in his trousers.
“So how about I assign you your first assignment? See how you go? I’ll even let you choose…”
“Choose?” you asked with a faux coyness, fluttering your lashes.
“Well, we have a very interesting story idea in regards to the Woolloongabba Doggy Day care that just moved to East Brisbane, rumour has it that the business is understaffed for the amount of dogs they keep in care. And they only use half of the required sanitization required. A spread of kennel cough and many dogs having their ears ripped off by other larger dogs belonging to rich clients the owner of the doggy day care refuses to lose business towards.”
Oh dear, you noted, that sounded tragic….it’s a good thing you never had a pet as a kid. It would hurt too much to be in that position. Hearing a pet dog had its ear ripped off by savage untrained dogs.
“...And the other case?” You sweetly chirped.
His smile fell, “There’s a certain gentleman that’s running around allegedly smuggling drugs and arm deals…” he repeated, “’Allegedly’…”
He rolled back in his chair to reach for a folder on his bookshelf, flicking through it.
Your craning neck had time to catch the outline of his prick beneath his pants. ‘Oh yes...this man is putty in my hands.’ When he swivelled back, you dashed your eyes back to his desk trinkets and smiled at him.
“A bloke named August Walker selling to or buying from an old money American philanthropist Brandon Sullivan…”
‘No fucking way’….just your luck…
You were going to fucking take it no matter what….
Luther grimaced, “It’s a big task so I won’t judge you for not taking it. I’m just hoping to catch the sons of bitches at it. It would be a huge story for media not even those wankers at seven, nine or ten news could think to report.”
You reached over his desk to steal his pen and stick note pad. You took down the name he mentioned on a sticky note- Brandon Sullivan...you made sure to memorise it well.
“How about we even make those conniving morons at sky news jealous, sir?” You smirked and watched as the rockets soared in his eyes with his white tooth grin.
He laughed hard.
He wiped his hand down his chin, “I love a girl with ambition Miss Y/L/N. I’m sure you won’t disappoint me! The dead line for photos is in a week, he’s having some soiree on next Friday or something so it’s got to be before then because you’re never gonna be able to enter those clubs, chicky. Respectfully.”
You smile and shake his hand again, “Mr Luther, I swear…I’ll give you the best goddamn shots you’ve ever seen of that criminal.”
Now your man hunt had truly commenced, you smiled to yourself. Who knew that revenge could come so easily and quickly…
Luther gave you your own cubicle to work in. A place to hang and edit your photos. A place to file your evidence. He may have mentioned that the work they did in his agency was on par with the police but by no means legally police work. So if the cops arrived, you stayed hidden and kept your fucking mouth shut....
You had a job and began researching the bastards name again on your laptop, compiling the sources from Google and the notes from Luther’s folder files.
You discovered the following about August J. Walker.
He was born in New Jersey. He was twice your age and almost as old as your father. He had a plethora of connections in businesses from alcohol distillery to Chinese restaurant vendings. Actually you were confident that a restaurant he help partnership over had a familiar logo. You tapped your lip and wondered briefly if your father ever delivered there as a truck driver.
August was a fan of European and Asian based foods and sold it at his clubs. He owned over fifteen around the world. One of his biggest in Australia was The Lions Lounge, it was on the edge of Fortitude Valley. It was for the richest social elites of the country. The price of food alone was almost your weeks rent.
On the website of his club you could see information regarding the tightship of his security. It seemed supreme so there wasn’t a chance of you going to his club without a fat purse and invitation.
A party was coming up, a celebration for the ten year anniversary of its opening. A soiree with a “The roaring 1920s.” Theme. You scoffed at the cliché.
It was exclusively invite only, it was only on the website so that those who received a invitation could reply a rsvp. And with you fresh out of luck of an invite like Luther even said, there was little to no chance of clawing your way inside.
So...that’s when you had to resort to extra creativity. You held up the sticky note and smiled.
09:07am Wednesday 14th August 2024, Robertson Brisbane.
August Walker was a man with a craving to remain in power. He had fought tooth and nail to get where he was and for now he felt incredibly comfortable…he had enough money to buy the fucking country...he had the power to make politicians kneel and kiss his shoes if he demanded it. To the police, with his legal team, he was currently untouchable.
He could literally have any woman he wanted…but he wanted you. Since that night he first saw your photo, he starved. He had given you time to mourn. Now you were alone and he righteously believed you needed him.
Yet to his surprised pleasure, he liked the fight and push you tried to dish out on him. Your guts to go to the police sent blood to his cock. He hadn’t expected it. He believed you’d roll over and cry only. He never predicted you’d immediately leave the apartment before he could wish you a good morning or afternoon after leaving you drugged up. He snooped for hours in your father’s bedroom and yours. He’d flicked through your old school reports and photos. He tried tidying your mess and clutter, washing your vomit covered duvet and even had cigarette to pass the time.
So when he received that call from the police requesting his presence, instead of anger, he felt surprise. Not many could surprise him. But you did...
He pushed away from his desk and rubbed his eyes chuckling, you were definitely a tasty little thing.
It made his dick hard when he remembered you crying beneath him. He loved to fantasise your pathetic excuses and spitfire words. He only wished you’d push the boundary more. The more you fought, the sweeter the submission.
He pulled out his ‘other’ phone. His ‘business’ phone. The phone no police would ever know or see. He swiped his thumb across the screen and groaned at the sweet nude thing he took photos of the night you’d both met. Oh how pitifully adorable you were with your desperate pleas and confusion as the pill quickly broke down into your blood stream.
He wished he had a video of it. How he teased your phone away from you. How he mocked you. Half of it he imagined you probably didn’t remember. After all it wasn’t long that you were totally out of it, limp and softly snoring.
He liked how much control he had over you. Laying the strips over your hairy body and tearing it away to be baby smooth as he liked it. How delicate you looked as he rubbed the baby oil into your skin to settle any potential irritation. Perhaps it was sick of him to prefer you like this. He sighed, licking his bottom lip, staring at the photo he took of your freshly waxed pussy.
He had done sicker things to other people. But you were someone who didn’t deserve this. That is where the guilt lied. You didn’t deserve this and August Walker fucking new it deep in his bones.
He wasn’t shy of hurting innocence but your situation was different. This was personal.
So really could he hold it against you for going to the police? No... And besides...his false alibi had been solid... especially after the rape kit evidence had been tampered with, concluding as inconclusive...
Something about the thought of making you submit but never fully breaking, constantly challenging him- turned him on so much, he found it impossible to work. He slapped his phone down and chewed the inside of his cheek while he considered calling up Natalie, one of his go to escorts. His payable whores. She was expensive but she knew how to suck him off to completion quickly and he wanted to focus on work and finalising the details of his party in two days, not on you.
As fate would have it….he wouldn’t have a choice…the phone rang on his desk.
He pressed the reviewer to his ear and turned to look out the window.
“Walker.”
“It’s Gibson.”
He smiled and leaned back in his rolling chair, “Ah Wesley, yes, how are you mate?”
“You’ve got a little problem, sir,” he heard his public relation specialist sigh, “A tail.”
“Oh?”
“I’m sending the email now,” the click clack typing of the keyboard echoed in the headset Wesley wore,” It seems the paper has started to find better journalists…”
The email notification came in quickly. The ping from his monitor forced August to spin around in his chair. He pursed his lips and scrolled to click the link.
He hovered the mouse arrow down and noticed the collection of photos taken of him in the high class restaurants talking with a old underworld buddy of his. Some of the images however were incredibly exposing. His hand was shaking Brandons in one when he made a export deal with him, another photo showed August’s fingers touching a contract, his eyes looking at a phone Brandon was holding with images of guns. This was not good at all…
“What the fuck…” his hand pressed to his lips, he mused, “The photographer was smart, he knows how to pick a decent angle, Jesus what camera took this?” He clicked another photo, “These details…you can practically see every pore on Brandon’s bloody face…”
His mouth felt dry. He knew he needed to hire Natalie’s services now, the stressed building up had him tense. His erection had vanished, now it was a matter of pain in his shoulders and back.
He scrolled further and stared at the headlines jumping out. “Playboy or Pathological Criminal.”, “Party King or King Pin.”, “Australia’s own insider terrorist.”
His eyes widened at seeing the publishing office. John Fucking Luther & Co. News.
His jaw cracked with the tightness he clenched. No. He didn’t have time for this shit.
“She, sir,” The lackey corrected, “Newest of Luther’s flock. His word usually isn’t credible but this? This is going to be hard, expensive press to erase or cover up. Other news outlets are fighting over the rites.”
She...
He picked up a pen and clicked the button. Why was it even that important.
She...
She? His eyes sharpened. He looked closer at the photos on his screen. Something about the photo style reminded him of something earlier he had seen the previous week. So many….on a wall…beside a bed…filled with a captivating woman he defiled…but surely not you? Surely not you...
“What did you say?”
“Sir the cost to-”
He shook his head and sighed into the phone, cutting of the agent, “No, no, I meant the photographer. You said ‘she’? Luther? Are you sure this is real? His lot are the worst, always blurry or grainy if they’re lucky…who the fuck is this new photographer or editor or whoever the fuck is getting these images.”
“We can only assume,” Wesley mumbled, “You’ve had this little thing on your tail for the passed few days, she tries to be sneaky we’ve noted. We didn’t expect her to release decent pictures…we followed her back to the Luther office. The angles fit the locations we have caught her in.”
His thumb pressed hard against the pen.
“Show me this bitch,” he growled under his breath.
Another email ping and a link later, your face filled the computer screen. Your eyes burned him right back…you were in a few photos. Some where you hid among a roof top, another you were hiding in a corner at the restaurant, and finally one where you were just in a park looking down at your camera probably going over the shots you’d taken.
“Want us to deal with her, sir?” he suddenly heard Wesley ask. Deal with her...Destroy her reputation...beat her up…sell her…or kill her....no…no...not his new puppy.
He blinked with bewilderment and hummed, “No...” He cleared his throat, “No, no thankyou, Wesley. I know this kid; don’t worry…” he smirked, “This is just a simple misunderstanding…bit of…play. Trust me.”
Oh how he could’ve whipped the skin from your back raw for this if you were anyone else...
“Sir, if you can’t get her to stop, if she’s going to keep doing this…” Gibson warned, “Anything more in depth- you’ll wind up in court or prison at the worst, the pigs aren’t taking the pay like they used to…”
August shook his head and sighed, “It wouldn’t be the first time Wesley. Ignore her. I’ll deal with it. She’s my responsibility.”
His public relations officer seemed to pause for a moment. As if he had something else to say but he knew better than to total talk back to August Walker.
“Alright sir, have a good evening,” August heard before he slapped the phone, hanging up.
He scooted closer to the screen and scrolled back at the photos you’d taken. He bit his lip and chuckled, shaking his head at your profiling photo, “You little-...you want to play this game? Fine, now it’s my turn.”
He began dialling up a new phone number. He held it back up to his ear and waited for the receiver to pick up.
“Jude mate, I’m gonna need you to develop some photos for me...oh yes,” he replied pinching the pen in his hand, “Red room style.”
06:19pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba, Brisbane.
“Who needs a man? Huh!” You said to yourself testing out the new bolts and chain locks you installed on the front door. They rattled and locked. They didn’t budge when you jiggled the handle and pulled. You still had three more you planned to drill in.
You wiped the sweat off your forehead and grinned proudly. This is something your dad should have taught you how to do. Thankfully with the help of a YouTube tutorial and a bit of bravery you managed to take full control and ownership of your front door.
If your new landlord wanted to charge you for damages to his door, so be it, as long as this kept you protected from him while you slept at night that was all that mattered. He’d either have to pick every complicated lock, guess or, he’d have to hire the damn firefighting crew to use a battering ram.
When you opened the door again to test it a second time, a squeak of surprised popped from your lips. You clenched your dad’s power tool tightly.
A man in a black suit and black sunglasses stood outside the door with an large yellow envelope in his hand. He held it out to you silently. He looked ominous and familiar, he wore leather gloves…your eye widened, he was August’s driver.
You glanced between him and his hands. Every second was a risk you weren’t sure you could keep taking. You hesitantly pinched the bottom of his flat package and he let go. He pulled the edge of his sunglasses down his face, looking at the plethora of door locks.
‘What was his name again? Judea, Judas?’
He said quietly, “It might be better if you open it inside...” his eyes glanced at the door again before smirking, “Nice locks...pretty crappy if you think it’s going to stop him though.”
‘Him...August Walker...’
You stood still in shock. He gracefully spun on his heel and left. Your tongue caught in your throat…what the fuck was this?
The package was as thick as your hand.
You had to know it was from August…I mean who else could it be from? Especially since you speculated it was his driver that delivered it…especially since there was a massive cursive ‘A.J.W’ on the tab of the envelope.
You held your breath and walked hurriedly backwards inside.
Your teeth caught your upper lip. You slammed the door shut and locked all the locks before going to the couch, disposing the drill on the coffee table, and tearing open the envelope.
You pinched the top wide open and hovered your eyes inside. There was a white papery page ripped out from a note book. You pulled it out and unfolded it to read his handwritten warning.
“Careful Puppy, you’re lucky my men didn’t bite when they sniffed you out, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I think you need a break from your little hobby. So I’m going to remind you...I have copies of these. Scratch me again and I’ll bite back. Stay down or I will put you down.”
Your mouth became dry as your eyes raced over that one last line again.
‘Stay down or I will put you down.’
When you ‘put down’ an animal, it usually means death…your insides grew cold. You were confident this was a strict warning, not a threat but a promise, August walker was telling you to stop investigating or he would kill you…
Your hands shook uncontrollably. You wanted them to stop. Your body felt the reeling anxiety. You dumped the rest of the envelope over the counter. All the content spilled across the entire floor. A camera came clattering out. Your father’s camera in fact.
Inside were photos of you. A photo of you working in the editor office. A photo of you walking in the deli section at the underground Woolworths grocery store and photos of you sitting at the Queen street bus station, even the bus numbers showed up. The bus 200 via Carindale. Then at the bottom of the spread out deck of photos were the shots from the night he forced you to cum on the recliner and the night he had drugged you, naked on his bed.
Your teeth clenched hard.
You felt your eyes grow hot quickly with tears. You didn’t like how pathetic and helpless you appeared, covered in tape, and totally lost in the bliss of his sexual torture. You didn’t realise how sweaty it had made you until noticing the intense wet shimmer over your body in the photo, the hot light of the camera shone reflectively from your skin.
You closed your eyes and choked on a sob. He made his point loud and clear but it wasn’t fair. Why could he get away with all of this? You wanted to tear all the photos up one by one until they were tiny papers the size of your pinky nail.
But they sat in a piled collection on your coffee table.
Your hand cupped your mouth as you fought your wails. You clenched your teeth and stomped your foot.
You kept rereading his note. Memorising his handwriting. His Y’s had a straight tail that didn’t curve upward. It made you hate him twice as much as irrational that detail was.
August hadn’t come back since then. He had not made any personal contact since he cornered you in your father’s bedroom. It wasn’t the last time you saw him though…you saw him almost daily, but you confidently were sure he never saw you until now. You were gathering all the evidence possible to put him in the doghouse...
You pressed yourself against the wall and slid down it on your back until your bottom hit the floor.
Now what would you do? Take photos and write about abused animals instead? Always worrying about August coming into your home to take his revenge for the humiliation and defamation you brought to his name?
You settled your hands into your lap. Your heart was pounding. You could hear every awful thud.
Your phone came to life. Lloyds number ran across your screen.
‘Oh god, Lloyd. Sweet, wonderful Lloyd. Maybe he could help me.’
Hitting the green button, you picked up the phone and cleared your throat, “Hey, how are you?”
His voice was a cool balm, “I’m getting on alright. I thought I’d call and check up on you. You haven’t been very chatty over text is all. I still think you should move Y/N.”
Lloyd kept you as updated as he could. He said he interviewed August a few days ago and the excuse was laughable. August had lied about being at his club during the time he had been with you. He had staff members who could vouch for him, Lloyd suggested they’d been paid off and supposedly security footage, all which Lloyd assured must’ve been edited. It was comforting knowing out of everyone, Lloyd stayed true in his belief that you were a victim.
Another tear rolled down your face, your voice became shaky, “Yea...I think you’re right. Lloyd...things have been happening...and...can you- can you just come over please?”
You were breaking down hard and couldn’t stop the wave of anguish coming over you. The detective was compassionate and said softly, “Of course. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
When the phone disconnected you rubbed your face and flared your nostrils. Seeing the photos made you feel dirty, unclean. You decided a quick shower before Lloyd arrived might help you relax and calm down from the absolute panic attack creeping under your skin. You stood under the hot spray and tried to control your breathing.
And under the water your thoughts persisted to race. A particular question shot through you.
‘Why would he even send those to me?’ Your eyes shut. ‘Why’? If you were just some women, he liked to fuck and humiliate... ‘Then why didn’t he just come in and do it in person?’
It was like a pin had dropped. Your eyes flashed wide open, and you turned off the water. You scrubbed your face and got out of the shower, rushing to put your pyjamas on. You almost slipped on the tiles and hard wood.
You crashed to your knees at the coffee table and spread the photos around trying to find that one.
The one where you were sitting inside the editor building at your cubicle. It had been taken from a low angle on the street. A small laugh escaped you. If he sent you an image of you at the office he knew where you worked, and who you worked for…he had read your articles...a light laugh escaped your parting lips. Tears dripped from your eyes, not from grief or fear, oh no, it was relief. Now it made sense.
'Of course!' August had read your articles...and they- you chuckled; they frightened him!!! Yes, maybe not to the extent of full fear, but enough that he felt it fit and necessary to send these too you. He felt threatened. The articles were piling up on speculation against him now in the paper. You were walking a thin line between defamation and creative liberties in alleged speculations, but Mr Luther assured it was legal in the laws of journalism and gossip.
If August had copies of your lewd rape photos, if he published them…you didn’t care...what was the point in caring about that?
You knew humans could be animals. It didn’t matter what was seen. Anyone can masturbate to anything, even just a selfie – so an image of you cumming on the recliner chair was really nothing at the end of the day…sure you might lose your job but the confidence to get you there would be used in the future again. And it would be all worth it just to watch the cuffs slap over August’s wrist. Because even if he’d never go away, locked up for your abuse, you could at least drag him further down with as many criminal activity charges as possible.
You glanced at the note he wrote…maybe he didn’t even write this. If he really wanted you dead, you were sure you would be. This wasn’t a threat, this was a game. He was toying with you, clearly trying to scare you into stopping any investigations of his hidden underground work.
Little did he know, he had no idea that your rage and hunger for revenge was greater than your fear of him.
You pinched a photo to the light and smirked. If only a week ago, this poor defenceless girl knew how her life would change for good...her eyes the mirror of yours. You slapped it flat in the table and pinched your eyes. August was definitely no talent in taking photos.
You smiled recalling how Luther reacted to the first photo you brought him the third day of working...
02:36pm Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.
On the sticky note you’d written down a name Mr Luther had shared. You looked up that name, Brandon Sullivan, with deep dive searches and found very little of him…however he did have a single photo up on his Facebook, he was holding a gorgeous woman.
Once you had reversed search the woman’s face, Katarina Vikander, you could have peed with excitement. She was some Swedish ballet dancer and super model. She was Brandons girlfriend. And she was happy to share a dozen photos over all her social media platforms…and yes, Brandon clearly wasn’t a fan of his personal paparazzi, but there were hiccups in his cover ups.
Katarina had taken a selfie on a balcony; her sunglasses reflected her phone and Brandon coming out of their hotel bathroom.
Behind Katarina was a marina in the background. That area was very rich and popular and easy to find. You recognised the area only by chance. The were staying at the JW Marriot Gold Coast Resort and Spa. You could see the JW Marriot logo on a bath robe in a previous photo while she wore a creamy face mask with cucumber slices over her eyes.
Katarina seemed to have this obsession with a Americana aesthetic, her favourite artist was in her saved Instagram stories, Lana del Rey.
The caption of her post with Brandon hidden in the background under a broad brim hat said, “Sunny and happy with my love, he doesn’t like the seafood here, he wants ‘real truffles.’ **eyeroll emoji**”
You remembered how you sat back after seeing that and searched every restaurant in the area of the Gold Coast region and only one sold authentic truffle dishes…men are fickle and usually won’t try new things…he was clearly a man set in his ways if he wouldn’t let her post photos of him. or at least that was your theory and assumption about the almost non-existent Brandon Sullivan.
You went back and searched August. He had a decent amount of information, he was very private however, no named girlfriends or family. He was very business oriented….and what did you know? Two years ago on his LinkedIn profile you could see August had been at the opening of the same little truffle restaurant nearby where Katrina and Brandon were staying. You scrolled.
‘Looks like he was or still is an investor.’
It wasn’t solid evidence, and you didn’t know if August would be there to meet with them…so all it took, was a simple phone call…and the great skill of confidence with a stride of lying.
As the phone dialed, you selected a fake name. Your co-worker had a F.R.I.E.N.D.S coffee mug, and you stared at the dark drink stain…it’s dark colour making a perfect name.
When a staff member of the restaurant answered you hurriedly got through your plotted lie, “Hello? Yes, my name is…Jennifer Brown, I’m Mr August Walkers new assistant…listen his last employee was quite begrudged and threw out all the known appointments Mr Walker was to attend in the next three months. I’m pretty sure he has a table booked for your restaurant?”
The administrator paused. You hoped he wouldn’t ask you to repeat yourself or question you further, so you sarcastically joked, “He will murder me if I can’t find out, it’s very important.”
You prayed he’d bite the banter.
The administration clerk had a boyish tone, “Of course! Would you like me to look up the time and date of his reservation?”
You smirked and held back a cackle, you feigned a sweet joyful cry, “I would be grateful if you could be a dear, thank you so much!”
And that was how you found out the schedule and exact location of August Walker and his criminal associate.
09:45am Friday 9th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.
Getting inside the restaurant wasn’t too hard. It had an open-door area with French doors. You made sure to wear a large sun hat and a plain dress. Your dad owned a small camera, about the size of an apple. You put it on a timer and leant to the floor, aiming the view finder at their table.
The entire time you swore you were sweating bullets. If August had seen you and confronted you, you probably would be chained to a pipe laying naked on a dirty mattress…maybe with those missing women you heard about on the news, Rachel, Stephanie, and Alison.
‘Why didn’t he keep me then? We did he return me back home? Did he kill those other girls?’ the more you thought too deeply on the topic, it made your skin crawl.
You clenched one of the forks, staring at the kingpin in the reflection. He looked to smug for a man that got off on harming women. You wished you could stab out his eyes with the prongs. And when the waiter came around to ask what you wanted to order, you held up the fork and requested a new one, apologising for “dropping it”.
You determined the camera had taken enough footage. You knew you’d need to make your escape when the waiter left to find you a new fork. Afterall- who can afford to pay for a cut of salmon with rocket leaves and white sauce for a hundred and thirteen fucking dollars?
You went straight home on the train and bus. You developed the photos in the bathroom sink. Hanging it up on the shower rails to set.
Those were the first photos you gave Mr. Luther.
The other times you took photos of Brandon and August were harder, a little more risky.
06:23am Saturday 10th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.
You had staked outside of the hotel where Brandon stayed. Waiting across the street in a side street. It was cold and miserable. But you knew August would be down here. Darling Katarina had posted a photo of her shoes in an elevator, beside her feet were Brandons shoes, but his had a shine. You could see the blur of Augusts moustached face. Maybe it was a reach, except when the caption said, “Lions Lounge anyone? Don’t my heels look incredible! **love heart eyes emoji**”
You were dressed in rags, you clenched a juul stick you bought that morning, gagging on the watermelon flavour while you practiced your “Eshay” accent. You stared up at the windows trying to guess which room the three were in with the help of the ex-ballerinas photos.
A month ago, you would’ve thought doing something like this was insane and frankly unhealthy. But you a month ago had not been humiliated and manipulated, God knows what a woman will do once you’ve pissed her off…was it obsession? Most definitely, for revenge, for justice, for all the girls who fell for August and harmed by his reputation.
You waited…and you were right. Brandon and August walking out together. The sweet young woman was clinging to Brandon’s side with a wide girlish smile and love heart shaped sunglasses. Funnily enough, the car that picked them up just so happened to be driven by the same dark headed driver in the same black car that August took you in. You took a snapshot of the license plate and watched it drive through the somewhat slow traffic down the street. You walked and walked, keeping your eyes set on the license plate. While traffic rolled, you turned and noted there were a few empty taxis.
You took off the jumper that you cut a bunch of holes in and dumped it in a garbage bin before bending down and tapping on one of the taxi windows.
“Hey! Are you available to drive me?” You called to one of the taxi drivers that hadn’t noticed you until that second...his eyes widened with surprise before nodding, “quickly, traffic is slow, hop in!”
You slid directly into the passenger side, which on a normal day you’d never dare.
But today wasn’t a normal day. You sat up in your seat and scrolled the area with your eyes.
“So where are we headed today, ma’am?” The driver asked.
You pointed ahead with a cheeky smile, “See that black car? The fancy one.”
“The tesla?” He asked.
“My friends are in that car, so please follow it. They know the way.”
He peered at you curiously, you knew it was stupid. If you had friends rich enough for a tesla, they’d never leave you to find a taxi. But hey…money is money, the driver wouldn’t argue. He started the timer and to your satisfaction traffic picked up. When they zoomed through the street the taxi tried to keep up. They were driving to a quieter street with Western Europeanised cafe’s.
As they stopped and hoped out you quickly requested to the driver, “Do you mind going around the corner? I’m a little embarrassed.”
God, you hated to say it but you had to play the suddenly snobby cunt.
He didn’t care either way to your relief and parked around the corner, metres away from the two men.
You paid the driver handsomely with cash you managed to find in your old piggy bank back home and slid out of the cab. Your face carefully looked around the corner and you skirted back. August, Brandon and Katarina had decided to sit outside in the warm morning sunlight. It was just your luck! Quickly, you crossed the street away from the cafe. The more distance the better.
To your luck it was a block of units across from the cafe. You walked around the building and kept your head down. You came up behind in an alley and smiled at the long spiral stairs that went up to the roof top. The adrenaline extinguished all fear of heights and pushed you up until you stood out on a flat roof. You crossed the way and looked over the side.
‘Fuck’, you thought to yourself. ‘Would a police officer ever do this? Would Lloyd ever have the guts to do this?’
Probably not, there was lots of red tape involved in police investigations...but you were just a reporter...You were a photographic investigator and you amazed yourself at the lengths you were taking. You were eager to get these shots. This evidence.
You saw the pair of businessmen receiving a cup of tea and breakfast meals from the waitress. Getting down onto your tummy, you grabbed your camera and leant over the ledge to zoom in on the two.
The pumping blood roaring in your vein filled you with a mixture of fear, excitement and surprisingly…arousal.
Those were the photos that made it to the papers first.
06:35pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba Brisbane.
As you reminisced on the evidential demise of August Walker, a knock at the door designed a bigger grin across your face. Lloyd had arrived. And no longer standing in a fit of sobs you welcome him cheerfully at the door.
He was wearing a black turtleneck and black slacks, totally out of uniform. Below his eye was a reddish spot. It was shining against his pale face. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was a bruise.
‘Many police are brutal and cruel but there’s no way Lloyd is one. He isn’t one of those cops...he must’ve been attacked by some bogan eshay or crackhead.’
His smile turned your knees to warm jelly. You felt shy like some first year highschooler being noticed by the seniors. He just had this glow around him.
“Hi Lloyd.”
“Hello there,” he said softly, his head cocked to the side, “Do you mind letting me in?” He asked.
‘Oh right.’
“Come- come in.”
You felt your face grow warm. You opened the door wider and looked out and down the hall. You held your breath and stood aside. The tall man slid passed you inside to your lounge room.
You took a massive breath in and exhaled. No one was waiting behind a corner or ready to catch you with the officer. You knew there were no security cameras and you doubted August would ever add any with his reputation.
Lloyd removed his leather shoes and placed them beside the door. His black socks glided over the hardwood.
You bit your lip…you looked back at the coffee table and quickly shut the door, bolting the locks after the detective entered your flat.
If August knew you were letting a detective inside, continuing to talk to one he could-…’Well, hold on...how would he know? He wouldn’t.’
“Woah, locked me in, what are you doing?” Lloyd gasped as he glanced over the metal mechanisms of your door. His eyes widened when you twisted the locks and shifted the small chains.
“I just...um. August Walker.... he’s kinda now...my new landlord and he probably will be getting keys soon and I....” your breath wavered. You paused and took a deep breath, “I needed to talk to you privately in person I think....”
His eyes didn’t grow any wider, but his pupils shrank. He pinched his dark pink lips. Sucking his teeth loudly he nodded slowly.
“That’s definitely a pickle you’ve been put into then, huh?”
You nodded back, pressing yourself against the door, sighing softly, “That’s not even the half of it Lloyd...”
His eyes raked up and down your body in surprise. You weren’t wearing your bra and your nipples were rock hard. Your pyjama bottoms were very short and little did you realise how much they were riding up your thighs.
You walked around him timidly to the coffee table.
“I got a new job, as a photographer journalist, no real experience required just my luck honestly,” you awkwardly laughed, “August um, he’s supposedly up to no good and I thought I could have a jab at him from a professional angle…”
You sat yourself in the recliner, while you invited him to sit opposite of you on the couch where he’d be able to properly look at all the photos.
He looked frightfully tired. His hair was dishevelled, and his shirt was stain with sweat. He had a nasty purple bruise on his knuckles that also matched the one under his eye.
You lifted your knees to your chest and worried about how much trouble this man was getting into as well as you. You wondered if it was like television shows where detectives mostly focus on the darkside of the force.
You gestured to the photos. You weren’t sure how he would react. He sat on the couch and peered across the coffee table, glancing over the images. It took him a few seconds before a gasp of shock ripped from his throat.
You tapped on the photos where you’d been stalked and seen taking photos of August, “Well, it shows he’s not one to have his photos taken...”
He was shaking his head. He couldn’t stop staring at the nude photos. And for a few seconds you relived that feeling of embarrassed humiliation.
You could see how his throat bobbed and his eyes flutter.
He leant forward on his knees and licked his lips.
“I...and here I had called you to check up on you and I was going to ask you for help Y/N, but god I don’t know if that’s gonna work now,” he sighed.
The detective ran a finger across your face in the lewd photos.
Your eyes narrowed, “Wh-what do you mean?”
There was a lengthy pause.
He chewed the inside of his cheek before asking, “How much do you hate what August did to you?”
You didn’t hesitate, “I’d kill him for what he’s done if I knew I wouldn’t go to prison…” you briefly looked down, “He…he came back like you said...”
Lloyd eyes glanced down too and he sighed, “Thought as much…let me guess…he threatened you?”
Your eyes fluttered closed, August had done more than just threaten you.
You nodded slowly, “He…he did…but he…is possessive, he kept saying I was his and I belong to him.” You pointed to the photo of you taped up on the recliner.
His brows pressed together, his eyes saddened. He clear his throat, “How long ago was that?”
Your mouth grew dry. You felt embarrassed telling Lloyd.
“The day of the report, after you brought me home.”
His eyes widened, his hand rubbed his parted lips, “So he ugh…he was here already?”
You nodded again, “The call you made… he was standing right here with a knife in his hand.”
“That’s why you have those deadbolts huh?” The officer rubbed his eyes and groaned, “Fuck. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me after he left? I could’ve moved you, you could’ve stayed with me at least until I could put you into witness protection. Fuck!”
His swearing sent a shiver down your spine.
Your looked at your feet, you knew he wasn’t victim blaming, he just didn’t understand. You told Lloyd everything…confessed like he was your priest. You told him what August did with the vibrator despite it bringing you to tears again. You told him he was the new landlord and that’s why you installed the extra locks. You told him about your new job and you told him about the photos and how you were going to help however you could to put the bastard away.
You sat off the recliner and slid the photos back into the envelope.
“You’re very brave Y/N,” Lloyd whispered, he reached out and laid his warm hand on top of yours.
Your belly felt warm at the praise. You let him hold your fingers in his and rubbed his thumb over your skin. You stared at his blonde moustache and those bright clue eyes of his. You imagined his mouth scratching your lip if you only leant in closer...he was still as handsome as the day he patiently listened to you in the report.
Lloyd smiled softly.
God if you were a cat you would’ve been feral and in heat with how creative your imagination was getting.
Your eyes fluttered as your entire body warmed up.
“Y-You said you needed help with something?”
He smirked, letting go of your hand.
He claimed, “After what you’ve told me I’m confident you can do it...but you might not like it…”
“Try me,” you huffed, falling victim to his contagious grin.
“I have two tickets to August’s little Soiree at his club The Lions Lounge,” He started off, “My other sources have confirmed there is going to be some form of arms deal with some unsavoury company, illegal, unregistered weapons. August Walker is very good at knowing the law and requesting a warrant… but the sources I have are not substantial to the board to guarantee a warrant by that night and by that time Walker would’ve moved the weapons and sold them in a different location.”
You pieced it bit by bit.
“So you need to get inside the party, find the deal going down and bust them?”
“Exactly, that’s right! However the moment a single man waltzes to the front door it looks suspicious. I need a lady on the arm…and better yet…I need a distraction for Walker, if he sees me head on, I could be as good a shark chow.”
Your eyes lit up, it didn’t take a genius to realise he meant you. You would be the distraction. And you’d be damned before you put yourself in real danger again especially after the threat August had given you...your photos were taken in public, this would be in private. Anything could happen to you.
“No… that is too dangerous, Lloyd,” You stood up and paced the floor in front of Lloyd who was now also rising to follow you in your pacing. You walked around your kitchen and Lloyd put his hands on the bench beside you.
“Y/N…” he bent close in a whisper. You wouldn’t look at the detective. Fear was buzzing inside of you. You felt stupid about saying you’d do anything to take August Walker down now. You really wanted to just humiliate the man and call him up in prison one day and rub it in his face. But this? This was a game of cat and mouse and you didn’t want to be backed up into a corner again.
“I wouldn’t be asking you if this unless I had to...”
You bit back the whimper in your throat as Lloyd touched your shoulder gently.
“He let you live…he has a soft spot for you.”
‘He threatened to put me down.’
He turned you around and squeezed your arms while he pitched the plan, “What’ll happen is we enter the club, I find the dealers and you find Walker because he will be hosting the party, he will want to know why you’re there and you are going to tell him that…you wanted to see him.”
You rubbed your eyes angrily, “Why the fuck would I want to see him?!” your fingers felt moist, you’d been compelled to tears.
The kind eyed detective sucked his teeth, “I don’t know, make it up. Kiss him. Men don’t care about a thing once a pretty thing is kissing them.”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. No, this wasn’t the Lloyd you had imagined.
“Oh,” you chuckled sourly, “So you’re pimping me out then?”
He gave you a dumbfounded look, “Call it whatever you want…you’ll be paid good money for your service and he’ll be arrested, in prison, unable to touch you. You can run away and move to wherever you want then.”
Your breath was shaky as you dared to ask, “How much?”
His left brow rose.
“How much would I be paid by the Queensland police or Australian defence department or whoever this is through?”
He sighed and gently laid a hand on your shoulder, “Around fifteen grand.”
Your breath escaped you. From near negatives to fifteen grand overnight? That much? For this job?! You were stunned…not sure if it was worth your life…but if it meant he only humiliate you one more time and you walked away with that much money…you’d do it.
You shook your head, “Fine, it’s this Friday night yea? His club is high-class and I don’t have clothes for that type of event.”
The tall man stood back and chuckled as he tug into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pinched a wad of cash and slapped it in the benchtop. Your eyes widened, holy fuck it was a month or two in rent alone…
“Go buy some. But you have got to be ready. At Seven o’clock I’ll pick you up an hour before the event and we can refresh what we know before we line up.”
You glanced between him and the money and nodded….”Alright, let’s…let’s do this.”
He laughed and clapped his hand excitedly, he leant in and gave you a fat kiss on the cheek. Nothing romantic, just pure joy.
“Thankyou so much Y/N you are going to be hailed a hero, a legend in my books!” He marched back to the couch and grabbed his blazer.
“You are a special person and I’m honoured to have met you! Really honoured!” He said as he unlocked all your bolts. He swung the door open and slammed it behind him.
You sighed and fell back against your cold fridge.
You weren’t sure you could pull this off….but as your eyes looked over the cash, the corner of your lips lifted.
You shut your eyes and sighed…all that money, it made your blood pulse. You returned to the lounge room and sat in the recliner. You laid back, staring at the ceiling. Your hands crawled down, passed the waist band of your pyjama shorts and underwear. You touched yourself and sighed.
Your fingers rubbed delicately against your clit while you leant against the kitchen bench.
You tried to imagine someone...Lloyd…the detective. He had a warmth his face. Lloyd would never rape you though, he was good, he was honest…
You moaned softly, imagining his warm hands groping your skin and his lips kissing your skin.
Fingering yourself, in and out, in and out.
You were imagining Lloyd speaking to you. He was currently the most attractive man you’d made contact with in weeks...other than August who essentially raped you.
What kind words would Lloyd say? “I washed our clothes, finished the dishes, now come here and let me fuck you.” ‘Oh yea that’s fucking hot.’
You imagined he would be gentle and soft before using more strength in his hips. His lips would be soft and hot. He would protect you and play sexy policeman. You might not have been a fan of the justice system but you were confident Lloyd would fill in a police uniform very well.
So why did your body start to dry up?
You didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You were riding your fingers and teasing your clit…why couldn’t you cum? You felt weird doing this now. It was strange to think before you met August you could cum very easily, after your dad- well you hadn’t touched yourself because you weren’t thinking about sex for a while until the millionaire stepped into your life.
After the third time of unsuccessful release, you punched the arm of the chair and started searching sex toys on your phone.
You weren’t totally sure if the prices were worth it for a piece of painted pink silicone. And there were strange shapes you were amazed were even designed to fit into a human….‘a whole fist? Surely that’s satire,’ you thought, ‘it shouldn’t be possible. It would be like reverse birth?’
You settled on buying a “rabbit dildo with thrusting pleasure.” You rolled your eyes at the name. You slapped your phone down and sighed, rubbing your eyes.
The hour was late.
Your first paycheck would be coming in soon. It was the smell of a small victory.
10:33am Friday 16th August 2024, Queen Street Westfield Shopping centre, Brisbane.
“What should I wear…” you hummed as you flipped through the dresses. Some of these dresses cost the amount of a new iPhone. You bit your lip. ‘Maybe I can return them tomorrow and give Lloyd his money back?’
A sales clerk came up, “Need some help?” She was blonde, curvy and tall. A supermodel compared to your body. You blushed.
“I’m looking to wear something to one of the high end clubs like The Lion Lounge, he’s having a nineteen twenties theme soiree this evening?”
Her lips widened, “Well, we do have many suitable gowns and even pantsuits for that social class, what designer were you thinking?”
You balked and worried that she would see you sweat, “Oh…I um…I’ll be super frank…I have not a clue what I’m doing…it is my first time to something so spectacular.”
The clerk’s eyes softened, her lips pursed, “Well! Let me help you then! These gowns you’re looking at are definitely not old twenties glam worthy! Right this way!”
Your cheeks buzzed as you were led into a dressing room and made to try on multiple styles, designers and colours of dresses.
She asked if you were getting your nails done and gasped when you said you hadn’t thought about it.
She was like a fairy godmother. She went the extra mile to call up the other stores in the mall to book appointments. You hadn’t felt so pretty ever in your life until then
She appeared stunned by the cash you laid on her counter.
Your nails were french tips with a holographic clear coat. You received a quick arm and leg wax and eyebrow shaping. The makeup matched the entire outfit. Your dress clung to your best assets and shaped your body with a clutch purse and low heels to match. Your hair was gelled and hairsprayed down into finger waves. And a lather of pearls circled around your throat and wrists.
The long finger of your dress tickled your calfs down to your small kitten heels.
You looked incredible, it took your breath away to see the glow up….
Lloyd thought so too.
HELPLINES:
If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .
Chapter Summary: You get the ultimate privilege of meeting Nicholas Tortano who grants you the ability to surprise August Walker
Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Sexual tension, P in V intercourse, fingering, petnames, dubious consent, hate sex, rough sex, gun violence, threats with a gun, forceful handling, belittling, manipulation The reader vomits and is kissed briefly at some point. Mentions of dacryphilia, sadism.
Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader
Word Count: .I dont honestly know but it's definitely more than 6k
Author Notes: the chapter and editing process was very rough I'm very sorry full stop my life has been in a business because I'm trying to find a new place to live and I've started going to the gym and missing out on a lot of sleep. I'm about to pass out which is why I'm posting this now. Again sorry for any mistakes granrma and otherwise
Inspiring Song: "girl with one eye " Florence and the machine. (Yes I know it's a sapphic song- I sing it like every day but let me have this pass to add it in)
08:09am Monday 19th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane.
'What the hell is she thinking?'
Henry shook his head as he reached the complex exit and walked out onto the street to the waiting car.
He wanted to smirk but the frowning scowl would not drop from his face.
'If I was anyone else, God what I'd do to her-' his hand clenched the passenger side door handle hard and slammed loudly behind him. His eyes shut and his head tossed while the car swayed and rocked.
Jude, his driver and loyal friend smirked, “You must like this one...or is there a pile of meat up in that apartment that I need to fetch? I can call Riggan the pig farmer in the Lockyer Valley, anything left over he can throw in Wivenhoe dam.”
August sighed and chuckled, "She's alive and well. No sweet treat for Coles piggies...but...I need you and Wesley to look into the Pig she has been accompanying."
Jude smiled and leaned over, clicking the button of the glove box compartment. Inside was a yellow envelope. August's eyes fluttered before his face broke out into a grin.
"You are a fine friend Jude," he said as he plucked the envelope and spilled the printed notes out onto his lap, "Do you ever sleep? Jesus mate."
The raven hair man giggled and started the car to a silent hum.
As the driver put a hand behind Augusts car seat and reversed the car out onto the main roads he smugly said, "I take pride in investigating, especially bastards like him."
August's fingers flicked through the pages of graphic intel. With racing eyes he soaked up the words and photos. Lloyd Hansen...an absolute moron. His nose flared at what he was reading. He grit his teeth. Especially when he recognised a name in bold he hadn't thought about in at least half a decade.
"Well, well, well, he's got kittens for sale," August scoffed.
Jude hummed, "And meddles in the dogs pack, it would seem little Nicky is out of the jailhouse."
Both men smirked. But August was by no means pleased.
He was grumbling to himself. You were now sticking your toes into the deep end of the pool without floaties and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to catch you in time for the dunk.
Entering his club, sneaking in with the detective, he didn’t think you were dumb enough to think you’d distract him... He read through your charade the moment his eyes laid down on you from above walking in with that man.
His eyes and ears were turning red.
It was tricky but thankfully he had the means to warning that cop not to touch what belongs to him...however how close could he really get to that bastard without potential outlash. He knew he needed to order another grandeur meeting. While everyone was in town, it might be his only opportunity.
When August forced you to watch the murder of the embezzler, he had every hoping intention that it would persuade you to never talk to the cop again. A normal undercover pig would’ve stopped the show then and there, called back up.
But there was no back up...no...there was only sweet little innocent you and your pathetic phone camera. If Lloyd was after information he would’ve wired you up...Lloyd wasn’t there for him...he was there for some selfish reason...
When you ran off and pulled the alarm a dozen things went through his head. You were going to get yourself killed if you kept running. So he chased you. If the other men of his circle saw August Walker hunting, they would have been inclined to hunt you down too. And if they caught you...they would have done more than rip your head off.
He couldn’t tell you. He wasn’t sure how. You were already distrusting and scared of him there was no way he would be able to explain all the details and with your pure heart, you wouldn’t understand his world and why his side of the fence did such heinous things.
But...he would keep you safe. He wanted to gain your trust while not mistaking his authority...he knew what he had done was traumatizing.
He was no stranger to rape. Especially the european parties...those special events where he would join his friends like Kenny Strong and Arthur Kingsley ran the highlife of elite gentlemen and some lucky women born into those elite families. He wasn’t entirely fond of the practice. He didn’t like to beat women, but he did love to tie them up and humiliate them to tears.
Something about crying made his cock hard- no, something about you crying did...
He made you cry and he tried to bend you to his whims...he had already begun the conditioning where you would call him Daddy to gain his affection and praise. It pleased him significantly. He would shield you from those terrible memories even if it meant torturing you into talking about them. Externalising, confessing, it was all a form of therapy and he knew he had finally cracked the surface of your mind. He wouldn’t break you but he would chop at you and cut the mould. He would heal you. He would rebuild you and give you all the happiness you could ever want.
Sitting back and shoving those papers into the glove box he licked his bottom lip in thought.
When he woke up that morning, he watched you sneak out of the room. He smiled and amused himself. He watched the cameras from his phone. You were in his room...now that was very silly...he watched you choose his shirt and his shorts. He bit his lip to hold back a laugh. You looked so confident but so ...innocent...particular. He watched you grab a knife from the kitchen, he half heartedly believed you were coming back to stab him.
When your hands reached for the glass doors he launched up. He hadn’t warned you about Kal and he knew that dog could rip a man up, probably kill you easily if his fangs cause your wrist or neck.
He wanted to spank you and fuck you hard until you screamed mercy for trying to run away.
Rather he chose a simpler and easier punishment, one you essentially consented to the night before. Watching you suck cock was an interesting spectacle. There was a certainty you’d never done it before or not that many times before.
As you gagged on his cock with those big beautiful eyes of yours, he imagined all the things he’d buy for you...all the things he’d do for you... You might’ve been on your knees but something screamed at him to serve you as a slave.
Jude broke the silence eventually. He smirked, “So, am I right? You like this one?”
August smirked back, “’Like’ isn’t a word I’d be using.” He was fucking obsessed.
09:06am Monday 19th August 2023, Woolloongabba, Brisbane
You didn’t make a call. You couldn't. August broke your phone as you recalled.
You showered and scrubbed your face until you could feel the slight peel of your skin. It stung, but it was better than the sting you felt from the memory of his cum over you...in your mouth. You brushed your teeth for probably fifteen minutes just to erase the muscle memory of his cock brushing the back of your throat.
You changed out of August’s clothes and threw them into the bin. You couldn’t take off the collar and it made you feel suffocated. The kitchen scissors managed to scratch up the leather but the metal ring that encased inside was too strong.
You shook your head and felt nausea rise in your belly again. Without any food, all that came out was bile and acidic spit. You fell to your bedroom floor and started hitting the carpet, awful noises of grief and need bellies from you. You felt strangled. You huffed and spat random threats and insults, pretending he was there to hear them...he...August or your father? It didn’t matter.
You clenched your fist and smacked your head trying to regain your thoughts.
You kicked your dresser and rose from the floor. You found your bus pass and left the apartment, walking out in some jeans and a loose tshirt with a pair of running shoes.
The bus trip wasn’t a far trip to the police station.
You didn’t have the intention to report the kidnapping. No, no...now you were pissed off. You were scorned more than once by men around you. There was only one person you could trust in this world.
“Hi,” said the administration clerk, “How can we try an help today?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes, 'oh bitch if only you knew.'
“I’m after Detective Lloyd Hansen, is he here?”
You needed to confirm if the man was still alive. When you pulled the alarm, things were run or die in that moment. You hoped the man had the wit to run instead of confront the mafia or whatever this criminal group was.
The office was feeling slower today. It was filled with idle chatter and coffee machines grinding beans and a printer scanning documents.
“Do you have an appointment today?” she hummed, tapping at her keyboard.
You blinked and your teeth sneered.
You almost strangled that worker with the telephone cord. No. You didn’t have an appointment.
You just wanted to see he was alive. To tell him you were alive...and to collect your fifteen thousand promised reward for your “services”.
Your hands uncontrollably slapped on the desk cause the admin clerk to roll a little away in their office chair.
“I want to see the detective, now.”
“It’s alright Sandra...I can see her...” Lloyd said behind you. You flipped around. He was coming out of a small cubicle.
He looked...tired...shocked...relieved. it was all over how he looked with his loose tie, bags under his eyes and the clench of his hands on some paperwork.
He slowly stood to you and guided you away from the service desk. He whispered, “The white corolla...I’m about to finish shift.”
09:14am Monday 19th August 2024, Sunnybank, Brisbane.
You remembered his car well. The day he drove you home, you were so scared and confused. That day you’d reported that August may have sexually assaulted you...that day he definitely did...
This time you weren’t waiting in the cold for Lloyd, the sun was hot and beating down.
He came jogging down the front stairs of the station and hastily unlocked the car.
You wordlessly slipped in and buckled up.
When he got in he slammed his door a little too hard. He pressed his face to the top of his wheel and swore softly.
“I thought,” he swallowed nervously and sat up to look you up and down, “I thought he really had killed you. I tried calling thirty fuckin times these last two days. What happened? Were you hiding?”
Two days....god...you had been gone, missing, for that long?! Missing Friday...return Sunday.
You shook your head, “I was the one who pulled the alarm Lloyd...he knew what we were doing...he was going to kill you. When I made a run for it like everyone else in the club, he managed to track me down...he...” you trailed off unsure if you wanted to repeat the actions, the words, the confession.
Licking your lips you said, “August Walker is a dead man walking...and...” your stomach started to growl, “I’m starved, and I’m sorry to be bitchy but you...you at least owe me a meal Lloyd.”
Two days...you had only a few pieces of chicken in two days. No wonder you felt like total crap.
Lloyd didn’t argue. He took you straight away to the closest fast food drive thru. You ordered so much and Lloyd didn’t dispute a single item. He settled for a simple burger, fries and larger soft drink.
Lloyd drove you both to the kangaroo point lookout, it wasn't too far from where you already live. You stared out at the city buildings and Brisbane River with a strained sigh.
You chewed silently on a nugget for a moment before you explained what happened. How you were caught, how you almost got away...
“Jesus,” Lloyd rubbed his eyes and sighed, “I...I think I...I’m sorry I took you for granted Y/N. When I left the building I search everywhere for you. I thought...well- I didn’t know what to think.”
You munched on a handful of fries, you didn’t care if you looked like a pig as you did it. Stuffing your cheeks full of a burger and then a massive gulp of an extra large drink. You swallowed and thrived off the heart burn aching in your chest, reminding you you’ve eaten too quickly.
You burped and then softly moaned, “I need to feel safe.”
“You need to move...Y/N please,” The begging in his tone was loud and clear. There was serious fear in Lloyd.
You wouldn’t submit to August Walker and you refused to run from him. You were now met with the choice...you were either going to destroy his reputation or literally destroy him....your blood pumped loudly. He made you talk about your father....your fucking father...and on top of that, he made you call him daddy.
What mind fucked you was how you were yet again able to walk away...not unscathed but definitely alive.
“No,” you dismissed unwrapping your second burger, “He will find me...I know he will...and even if he kept me alive both times, a third is pushing my lucky, I know you understand that.”
Lloyd shook his head at you and put his hand over your burger, stopping your next starved bite, he hissed “You think staying where you are is safer? You don’t know-“
“Lloyd!” You snapped, you slapped his hand back and shoved your pointer finger into your chest, you sucked down a shakey breath, “...I know...I do know. I need to protect myself when he strikes again...it’s worse now...I have too much collateral... He let me witness that murder in the club.”
The detective raised his brows at you, “You mean...” the blood drained from his face.
“Cameras were in the VIP rooms Lloyd,” you grit your teeth and glared at the view of the city buildings, “I saw a lot more than just a fucking man’s brains being blown out from his skull, hookers, coke... Auctions...he’s got it all in The Lion Lounge.”
The detective rest his fingers on his top lip. He was slowly nodding.
You sucked down a long drag of your straw and gasped, asking in the same breath, “Lloyd I want a gun. I won’t let him rape me again.”
You needed the protection from August or any man he sent to kill you.
Lloyd chewed his bottom lip and shook his head.
“Do you have a gun license?”
“Do I look like I have one?” you snipped. You knew it wasn’t fair on him for your attitude but you didn’t have the time to focus on his hurt feelings in regards to your mental health and physical safety.
“Have you ever even shot one?”
“Nope. But it only takes one shot to kill him close up.” You threw the wrapper out of his car window and rubbed your face.
If he didn’t come near you, he would be safe, and you could just work on collecting evidence for the courts.
The detective sucked his bottom lip and shook his head, “It’s too dangerous.”
“Oh piss off!” You stomped your foot and twisted your body to face him, you grabbed his loose tie and tugged it as you seethed, “Lloyd, you practically thrust me into his arms and you have the gall to say now, me owning a gun is ‘too dangerous’?”
He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled his tie out of your fingers as he shook his head at you. His nose flared and he started to raise his voice at you, spit flying from his mouth as he hit the wheel with the palm of his hand. You expected a detective to hold a little more composure.
“Fine. Fine! But are you really willing to go to prison for life if you do manage to kill him? Think about this logically.”
His eyes were wide and his brows twisted with worry.
You fell quiet. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to stamp your foot again and scream that you’d spend two lifetimes behind bars if it meant his demise...except...was your demise worth the cost of his? Would you drown with him in the end of all of this if you killed him.
You noisily sucked at your straw.
“No...” you whispered, you didn’t want to cry in front of Lloyd but your tears were coming up, beading in the dips of your lids.
“No, that’s right,” Lloyd rubbed your shoulder with his thumb, “He isn’t worth it.”
Your lip pouted, “Why can’t you just...arrest him.”
He sighed and rubbed your back as you started to break down into pathetic frustrated sobs.
“Lawyers, laws and money,” he whispered and fluttered his eyes shut, “He has his ways. The only way we can take him down is if he is caught doing the hefty, big crimes. If I could’ve gotten the proof of the weapon dealers he would’ve been considered accomplice to the crime.”
“S-so if...if you..” you wiped you snotty nose on the back of your arm, “If he was caught on camera...he’d be sent to prison?” You started to laugh mechanically, “What if...what if I let him rape me. A nanny cam on my night stand or something?”
The office shook his head for the dozenth time, “By the law that wouldn’t be considered rape...only a messed up porno, especially if they see you set up the camera.”
Your fingers aggressively clenched another handful of fries, you didn’t eat them, you just threw them back into the bag.
“...I...what do I do Lloyd?” A fear of hopelessness tapped your brain.
He was quiet for a solid minute. He stared at you all over. You knew the bruise on your face was visible. He kept looking at your cheek instead of your eyes. And his gaze fell down to your neck. “It’s a collar Lloyd...he chained me to a bed for two days...”
His lips parted and with a impatient voice he asked, “Do you have a gym membership?”
“No? Why?”
He started his car and made you put your seat belt back on, “Okay, I don’t care, you’re getting one, right now."
Your eyes shrunk, “Why?”
Lloyd gruffly snarled, “Because I’m going to teach you how to fight.”
He would teach you at least some self defence. August might’ve been twice your size but if you could get the chance to get away...Lloyd would make sure you would take it..
05:30pm Monday 19th August 2024, East Brisbane Anytime Fitness Gym, Brisbane.
“Again.”
Your back hit the padded wall, your knees hit the floor as you cupped your middle and tried not to puke up the fast food from earlier.
“We have been at this for three hours!” You groaned, trying to use the foam wall to stand up again.
You were convinced Lloyd liked to beat you around, the red marks and bruises that were rising were the evidence.
“Until you can take me down,” Lloyd nudged you with his hand causing you to almost fall back down, “We aren’t leaving.”
You hissed angrily and stood up tall “Fuck sake.”
You held up your arms like he showed you. He started throwing his blows, you blocked him with your forearms and ducked away from his large swipes. He kicked your ankle and watched you crumble to the ground again.
“Watch your feet.” He scolded, “You are smaller and surprisingly speedy, use that to your advantage!”
You rolled your eyes and bit your lip. Getting to your feet you pushed up and launched your body at Lloyd who was checking out one of the yoga classes in the other room window.
He crashed to the floor. Your knees straddled his hips as you huffed with glee, “Ha! Home time!” your palms rested on his naked sweaty chest.
He chuckled and shook his head. He pushed you up by your hips. He shut his eyes, panting, “Again...then home time.”
You grumpily groaned, “Fine!” your ribs hurt bad and your knees felt swollen.
It was agreed by you both that if you needed to reach out you needed to use a burner phone or a payphone. Any calls or emails were going to be noticed.
When you felt the spray of the hot shower water at home, you cried. It felt good. You touched the collar still around your throat. Training to protect yourself reminded you the pain was worth it.
10:16am Wednesday 21st August 2024, Brisbane CBD
“Mr Luther, I’m so sorry for not calling in sick,” You wrung your hands in front of your boss, “Please forgive me for the unwarned absence.”
“Please!” He laughed heartedly, “I just assumed you were clicking some more photos!” He stood out from his chair and sat on his desk above you, “Did you hear about Walkers club almost burning down?”
Looking down at your lap, you reminded yourself that Mister John Luther was not a man included in the circle of trust. Nor were you convinced he understood the severity of the crimes the criminals he wanted to chase for gossiping stories committed. Your hand touched the ends of the scarf you wore, covering up the hideous black leather around your neck. You tried all morning to cut it off with a pair of scissors but you came to feel the metal circlet inside and gave up. There was a hole in one of the bottom cabinets where you had kicked in a hole...that was okay, you had an extra fifteen thousand pounds in your bank account.
You assumed Lloyd finally sent the money through.
“Did it?” you coyly asked.
“No clue how damaged the place was but the massive party was cancelled. The fire engines went zooming down this street Friday night.”
“What happens now then?” You glanced up at him and chewed the inside of your cheek, “With the smuggling case?”
“Put on hold for now,” he sighed and squeezed your shoulders, “I don’t have any sources about the next possible meet and greet. I was hoping you could keep the same production rolling. I have a new project involving a Nicholas Tortano. I want to get an interview with him.”
You didn’t recognise the name at all. Your fingers pinched at your long sleeve shirt. “An interview?”
Luther nodded, he winked and went back to his desk draw, slapping out a manilla folder.
He rubbed and clapped his hands, pushing and opening the new case to you.
“He has a history of his employed persons going missing. He has criminal history ties with Irish gangs and the italian mafia. I have a page of questions, I would like someone to ask him.”
You cleared your throat, “Me?”
Wagging his finger the elder man laughed, “No one has quite the balls as you deary...”
It sounded...Too dangerous.
“In that case,” you shuffled forward in your chair, “Can I be paid upfront for this job?”
You would not die at the hands of one gangster when you had your eyes set on another. Luther almost looked like he was going to tell you to get the fuck out of his office until he looked at your photos of August you’d taken. He was quickly reminded you had the best skills and to lose you would be suicide for his paper... You were the best thing to have happened to him. He accepted.
You sat in your work cubicle and aggressively jabbed at the key pad of your work phone. It’s not hard to find phone numbers. Nicholas Tortano had a nickname, “The Black Dog.” He was caught by paparazzi coming out of court a few times. His business empire related to charities. He was a philanthropist with a dirty history of crime connections. He had only been found guilty of third degree murder but many news articles in the past twenty years all labelled him as a omen of death, because anyone that had done him wrong was found dead not too long after...
You found the phone number and took a lucky gulp. There wasn’t an address for any business so if no one picked up, you were worried Idris might fire you for that mere disappointment alone.
The phone rung out once. You dialled again, the receiver picked up. You held your breath.
“Hello, Tortano and associates, who is calling?” the masculine tone soothed out.
“Hello, my name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m a journalist from the local paper. Is there a chance I may be able to book an interview with Nicholas Tortano?”
There was a steady silence and a soft hum, “What does this pertain to?”
You rubbed your eyes and looked over the notes Luther had given you in the folder, “....People think he is ‘a mass murdering psycho with a thirst for crime’, I’m hoping to ask him some questions to seek the truth.”
“How ludicrous,” the man chuckled, “I am a gentleman. A businessman. Not a criminal.”
You strained over the phone as you spoke to the secretary, “I am sure but this is in regards to Mister Tortano.”
The phone went quite again, you thought maybe you’d lost the connection.
The sweet condescending waved through the sound, “I am he...are you free today for lunch?”
With widened eyes your voice caught in your throat. You felt like an idiot...you never imagined he would answer the call to his own company. CEOs never answer the call of a civilian first hand...
You cleared your throat and nervously clicked a pen, “I am, where would you like to conduct this meeting.”
You could hear him click something too. He sounded warm, and inviting on the phone, “Do you like Italian? Have you ever heard of Vapianos?”
A tiny smile touched your lips. When was the last time you were asked out to lunch? Your eyes rolled, for fuck sake, this was a job...not a date.
“I don’t mind it.”
11:54pm Wednesday 21st August 2024, Brisbane CBD, Vapianos.
Nick Tortano had invited you to a side of town with skyrise buildings. The Vapianos restaurant was on the bottom floor of some massive buildings.
You wrapped your scarf around your neck again. The leather was tight around your throat. It was like he was there with you...holding you...as you cried over a father that you loved and hated.
You shook your head and looked down at the notebook and piece of paper you were given by Luther.
You looked around at the tables and the waiters. The place was sparkling with a quality of...the wealthy and corporate. The palm leaves, the tinted glass windows that raced from floor to ceiling, the champagne glasses on a nearby table. It was all glorious decoration.
All the people there were beautiful...not a single appearance that resembled you...a pauper.
The awkward steps you took towards the receptionist resembled a weak lamb. You felt stupid for being there.
The server looked you up and down and it caused a sting to any confidence you had left. You touched your scarf.
“Hello, I’m looking for a Mister Tortano we have a meet-”
A hand glided across your back, you jumped a little and became confronted with a pair of dark brown orbs and handsome white teeth, “Hello, Miss Y/N.”
Nicholas...he was tall and wearing a simple sweater. Despite his causality he held an air of regality. Not to be overly romantic but you felt he would be a stunning prince if he was a royal member.
“I hope you don’t mind but I’ve had them set a table already.”
He held out an arm to you.
“Not at all,” You flushed and happily accepted it. You tucked it around and let him lead you carefully to a table. There was a set of plates and two wine glasses.
“Just give me a second or two to set up, is it alright if I tape your voice?” you asked reaching into your handbag.
He pulled out a chair for you and explained, “I would prefer no tapes, but I’m not adverse to photography.”
It wasn’t an unusual request. Lots of people didn’t like the sound of their voice. He must’ve been one of them.
It didn’t matter, photos were more your talents anyway.
“In that case, may I take the photos first and then perform the interview?”
He nodded and flashed a bigger beautiful smile.
“Where would you like me?”
You pulled out a office camera from your bag, you didn’t have time to go home and grab one of your ten others. You started to turn it on.
“If you could look away from the lens, relax your shoulders, lean back and look like you’re thinking. No smiling.”
“Do I look ugly with a smile?” he cheekily asked.
You couldn’t help but smile. He was charming and flirtatious and incredibly handsome.
“Terribly,” you teased, “No, my boss would just prefer a little more seriousness I believe. To make the page appear professional...plus the topic regarding the article with a smiling photo you’d look like a madman.”
He nodded promisingly and fell into the pose. When he heard the camera clicked a small smirk pulled at his lips before quickly trying to compose his face.
When the photos were finished you stuffed the camera back in your bag. He relaxed from his falsified stern appearance.
Now came the interview. You pulled out the sheet of questions Idris provided. Under no circumstances were you meant to ask anything but these....except....the questions....well...they were...
“So, you...ugh...hold on a moment....”
How many people have you killed?
What is currently the cheapest drug you can achieve from your circle?
Are you a homosexual?
What the fuck?! You weren’t even sure if you were legally allowed to ask these questions due to discrimination laws.
“Um...I...”
He smiled at you from across the table. You felt a pearl of sweat forming on your forehead.
“Stage fright?” Nick asked softly, tilting his head. He snapped his finger and a waiter came over and poured water into two cups. A basket of breadsticks were placed in the centre.
“No, well...yes...um. the questions I’m meant to ask you I stupidly didn’t read before coming here...” your cheeks felt warm. The embarrassment rose fast.
“So they’re not your questions?” his eyebrows lifted. His finger traced the lip of his glass.
“They’re my boss’s but I said I would ask them.”
Nicholas' lips parted back into a smile, “Enlighten me, I will be less offended knowing they’re not from you.”
You smoothed the paper out on the table and pulled out a notepad, clicking a pen after finding the least offensive one you licked your bottom lip and stuttered, “How...how would you describe yourself?”
He sighed and held the cup to his lips, “Vain, rich with a dominating grace.”
Those weren’t usual qualities someone described themselves as, usually people preferred to remain humble and soften their reality. It was an interesting new perception to attach to Nicholas Tortano the criminal who covered his wrong doings with funding medicine for sick children.
You noted it and looked at the page again to try and find another less offensive question. Frantically your finger scrolled down all the words. Your heart started to pick up. These were so ridiculous and disgusting. Right I go the jaws of the black dog- that’s what Luther had done to you.
You shyly laughed, “hmm, I...let me...-”
Nick slapped the cup back on the table. His smile had fallen, “Politely, Miss Y/N I don’t like my time to be wasted...how about you hand me that piece of parchment.”
He reached over with lightning speed. He pinch the paper and dragged it to him.
“Hey!-”
“Now now, here’s what we will do,” he peaked up at you and licked his bottom lip, “I’ll answer these questions and so will you.”
You lifted your chin and looked at him cautiously.
“But they’re not for me.”
“That doesn’t matter, I can see you’re nervous darling...so...let’s break tension.”
He trailed his thumb down the page and sighed, “Let’s see...ah yes I see how these would make you less inviting to involve yourself.”
After a moment he glanced and smirked at the questions, god you could throttle Luther right now for letting you go through this stupid interview.
“How many years did it take you to be where you are now as one of the most notorious crimelords?”
You tried to put on your best smile, “...yesterday...I stole this scarf...” you lied.
“Why Miss Y/N you must be a terrible influence!” He feigned a gasp of horror which made you lightly giggle, “I don’t label myself as a crime lord. As over the phone I stated simply, I’m a business man...my business so happens to involve crime. I’ve been in this business since I was thirteen years old. My first offence was Car theft. That was almost twenty years ago.”
Your throat shut. He was in his forties!? The damn bastard had the option of early 30s or maybe 20s if he shaved off his stubble entirely.
He looked between your face and your hands, “Are you going to write that down or do I have to do that too?”
You blinked and jumped with a start of noting down the new information, “Oh yes! Sorry!” Scribbling quickly you watched him, watching you...he was staring...like you were...something unusual.
“How many sentences have you been charged with?”
You shrugged unsure why you felt ashamed to say, “None.”
The pen in your hand twirled as the handsome gentleman scratched his nose, “Too many...in all up it has kept me behind bars for nine years total but I’ve been in and out for years. I only returned to the public eye a month ago.”
“Woah,” you whispered.
Nine years? A month? You didn’t have a lot of time to research him considering the call for lunch was so quick and speedy.
His fingers tapped the table softly. He shrugged, “Its not as bad as tellie makes it out to be...in fact it’s a way to network well. You can learn lots of new tricks when you’re forced into tight confinement.”
You started to take dot points. It’s interesting...being in prison for nine years...not all together but all total. Making connections and friends inside prison didn’t really click at first. You always assumed prison was a scary and lonely cell where you had to pee in front of everyone.
Nick looked back at the page and laughed, he rubbed his mouth and shook his head, “Are you a homosexual?”
You also laughed but it was more a awkward shyness, “No, I think I’m bisexual if anything but strictly gay I’m not. I can’t understand why that question would be even asked, I’m so sorry.” You grit your teeth and looked away.
He tilted his hand and shrugged, “It’s vicious rumour that I’m a pillow biter...I am not a homosexual.”
Its all he said. And that was something you really didn’t like writing down...it was so unnecessary.
“What is currently the cheapest drug you can achieve from your circle? Miss Y/N don’t tell me you sell drugs?” he giggled and folded the paper back a little.
'Jesus Christ'Luther!!!...you really wanted me to ask that!?' Your fists clenched under the table.
You dismissed it and grinned, “No, I do not. Sorry to be so boring....you?”
“Paracetamol,” he answered, “I can sell you some right now, I like to keep some nearby.”
Anyone could sell paracetamol...he deliberately said that, you knew.
“After the interview I think I might just,” you laughed and rubbed a little at your temple.
“How many people have you killed?”
You gasped. Your chest was like a loud metal band concert with your heart as the instrument racked, you didn’t understand how that was possible.
“None.” Well...your father....maybe...Nick didn’t need to know about that.
The philanthropic crime lord aka ‘businessman’ remained totally silent. Your hand paused.
“Are you not going to answer the question?...”
He put the paper down and plucked the menu, he unfolded the cardboard covered in matte black and gold designs, he looked down at the wine selection, “I think you might need to do something for me to answer that.”
“What?” you wanted to say you’d do it. But why would you promise anything to a man with his bad record.
“I’d need you to kill someone. And you don’t strike me as a murderer Miss Y/N.” His dark gaze flickered up at you, “Now...what would you like to eat?”
You bit your lip. He’s definitely killed before, or else he would’ve just said no. He wanted to you to know he was a murderer...you knew because his eyes remained perfectly still as he said it. No tremble or lying shame in those pupils.
You sat forward and drank a bit of your water.
Perhaps meeting Nick wasn’t just a benefit for the paper gossip. Maybe he could help you...you heard his voice ask you another question, probably about the menu, you do not remember...instead your thoughts tumbled out of your lips.
“....do you sell weapons Mister Tortano?”
The question caught him off guard. They weren’t on the paper your boss provided.
“Weapons?” he asked cautiously.
Shit, you had gone too far now to recall your thoughts, “Would you sell a gun to a woman even if she doesn’t have a license?”
His eyes sparkled.
“Whatever would you want a gun for Miss Y/N?” he leant back in his chair and pressed his fingers to his lips.
You tried to explain, but it was hard. You looked over your shoulder. It was too public to be discussing this. You whispered, “... There’s a rat who won’t leave me alone. I’d like to scare him...”
His eyes narrowed a little at your speech. He knew you weren’t being literal, so he replied coolly, “Are you asking for a gun or pest control?”
You whispered again, “A gun.”
He fluttered, you could tell he was staring down your shit to check for a wire.and clapped his hands loudly. The entire restaurant went from idle chatter and laughter to utter silence...it was eery...like a dream or a nightmare.
Nick shouted at the top of his lungs, echoing off the walls, “Leave us!”
The entire assembly of guests started to rise from their chairs. They packed up their brief cases and hand bags. Abandoning the half eaten food and untouched wine and champagne. Your nose wrinkled. What the fuck... they were all heading to the stair well, ignoring the elevators.
You looked back at Nicholas, confused, wondering if he meant you to leave too...you pinched the table cloth worryingly.
“Have you thought it through?” Nick asked now that the restaurant was empty, and quiet.
“What?” you didn’t understand. The entire perception of Nick Tortano was collapsing. He was so powerful...all those people were his. All of them under his thumb...all of them so obedient...
“Do you intend on threatening or killing?”
You felt trapped by his words.
“That’s my business Mister Tortano, politely speaking...” how could you confess to your intentions.
It was bad enough that he knew you wanted a gun.
You wondered if there was any chance you you make a run to the doors and run away. You were stepping from one scary man to another at this point.
After a while of sitting ashamed in silence, he stood up from his chair. His fingers lazily brushed the table, until he paused in front of you. He dragged his hand under your chin. He made you look at him, standing above you. His hand violently tore off your scarf and he tutted, “Is he the one who put the collar on you? The man to cover you in bruises? Might need a better foundation darling...I’m not stupid. I’d like to know if it’s going to reflect back on me. What’s the chaps name?”
You didn’t like how personally close he was standing above you. You felt small and trembled beneath his pinning dark brown eyes...they were practically black like some soulless shark. His white teeth looked starved.
You lied again, “...Lloyd...Ha-Han-Hansen...” perhaps Lloyd could handle Nick? But how? He couldn’t handle August. You regretted saying his name but that was it...you threw the only friend you had under the bus.
“Hmmm can’t say I know him well...”
“He’s um...a lawyer,” you lied again.
He smirked and whispered, “Is he?” his eyes narrowed with a glint of mischief.
He flipped his cardigan sweater up, on his hip, inside tucked in his jeans was a scary black gun... A hand gun.
“Well I do hope you get what you want out of him,” he pulled out the gun and set it on the table in front of you, “Here, consider it a gift...I find your disposition incredibly pleasing...”
You glanced at the gun and felt a rush of something...adrenaline? Anxiety? Arousal? Something became alive...
“I need to go. I’m so sorry,” you rushed to stand up, you pinched the weapon and carefully tucked it into your hand bag, “I need to leave.”
This was too easy. Far too coincidental. Maybe this was your father's spirit watching over you?
“Until we meet again,” he chuckled and stood aside. You could hear his wickedly laughter as you fled to the doors. As the doors closed behind you, you could see in the distance, Nick standing by the windows smelling your scarf deeply. Your hand touched your throst and felt the jagged material. You weren't sure if you wanted to go back for the scarf. Watching him press his face into the soft material- the action was perverse...he was perverse...just like August. A mighty shiver rolled up your spine. You didn’t have time to worry about that.
You were filled with all the raw emotions of the last month. Anger, grief, revenge....
You now had a gun... The power to wield death easily. Now you just needed your chance.
You kept hearing Lloyd in the back of your mind...would killing August be worth your own life?
Especially life in prison.
You shoved it back and focused on the pain you felt, the agony as you cried in his lap under threats of his spanking. He wiped you when you used the toilet...he called you puppy...he forced you to cum and cry....he made you beg and suck his cock just to hold you...he treated you as a subhuman.
02:06pm Wednesday 21st August 2024, Woolloongabba, Brisbane
You opened your front door, slamming it behind you. And as you started to slide the bolts and chains, you heard something down the hallway...a small crash? No? A grunt...
Angry eyes and a sneer grew on your face. You marched down, your father’s door was wide open.
And there the fucker was. August... Folding clothes into your father’s bed from a washing basket.
You saw red.
“Wh-what the fuck...get out!”
He lifted his head and finished folding a pair of your jeans, your head leaned back to your bedrooms opened door before you looked back at him inside your father's room.
“Your home is a mess,” He said nonchalantly, “I won’t have you stomping around in squalor.”
He had gone into your room and cleaned it. And on any given day, that would’ve earned a man a blowjob, not him though, no...he was in your space and invading your life too much.
With a flared nostril you snarled, “I am giving you five seconds to leave. Or I'll-”
He snickered at your defiant demand, “Or what? You’re going to call the cops?”
You didn’t want to kill him here...You dug into your hand bag and it felt impossibly slow and heavy in your hand. You pointer the gun at his head and fought the trembling in your body and your voice, “Or you’re going to choke on your own blood August.”
His eyes widened, he didn’t expect your display. He paused and continued to fold the laundry. You didn’t like being ignored and moved inside of your father’s room. It wouldn’t be the first time a man died in this room.
“You’re not going to shoot me,” He said without a single hint of fear.
You held the gun now in both hands. You stood strong and came closer around the bed.
You scoffed, “No, of course not, you manipulate me, drug me, hit me, and raped me but 'oh nooooo I won’t shoot you'?”
He smiled and shook his head slowly. He appeared so unafraid and that caused a spit of hate to hit your face. You wanted him to be on his knees, begging for his life, pleading for forgiveness while he pissed himself. This was not at all what you imagined, him folding the washing and sorting to find pairs of socks.
“One,” You said.
He sighed and threw your underwear back into the basket. He started to walk around the bed gradually.
You screeched, “Two, stay the fuck away from me!”
He stopped and raised his hands. Slowly he perched himself on the corner of your dad’s bed.
“Three,” you said a little shakily. He still didn’t flinch. You felt suffocated. Why wasn’t he scared?
You pissed in his lap when he pointed one at you in the club. This wasn’t fair.
Tears uncontrollably started to fall from your eyes. You didn’t want to kill him...god you hated him...but if he wasn’t going to beg you, you didn’t want to kill him. Especially in this room...besides ...what would you do with his body?
“F-four, don’t make me do this August!”
You moved closer and closer until the tip of the metal weapon pressed into his forehead.
It was now or never...“Pl-please, don’t...” you begged, hoping he would walk out of the room and apartment. You squeezed your eyes shut.
You pulled the trigger and screamed as you did it. The trigger didn’t move...it felt stuck. You pulled it again and nothing happened. You opened your eyes and noted how the gun hadn’t gone off and August was still happily breathing with a dark, sadistic grin on his moustached lips.
“Five...” he hummed and wrapped his palm around the barrel, pulling it up and tugging it away from your trembling hands, “your safety is still on, and...” He clicked off the top and sighed, “It’s not even loaded.”
You crashed to your knees and vomited right over his leather shoes. You weren’t prepared for the rush of exhaustion to hit you. Your body shook. Your fingers clenched the soaked carpet. The metal of the unloaded gun lifted your chin up. Tears ran down your cheeks beautifully.
“Tell me, did the piggy give this to you?”
Your swollen lips blubbered, “No!” Lloyd didn’t need any more wicked men following him around.
You shut your eyes and sniffled. Surely August would kill you. This must’ve been some sort of a strike three, yes?
“Then where did you get your paws on one of these?...” he bit his smile lip.
“A friend...” it wasn’t a total lie. Nick liked you, you somewhat found him intriguing. Yes you’d only met that day...but he was a friend now for a moment in your mind.
August pulled you up into his lap by your hair. Hot lips pressed into your neck and nuzzling your ratty leather collar, “You were really going to kill me...weren’t you?” he cooed as you started to sniffle and choke on your tears, “You pulled that trigger. I underestimated you sweetness...don’t worry. I won’t punish you for that.”
He cupped the back of your head, pulling you in for a big kiss. His lips soft, but his hand tight and filled with dominance.
You felt light. He was kissing you just after you vomited. Gross.
He pulled away and spat at the floor, he chuckled and pressed his nose against yours.
“In fact...I got you a gift.”
You whined and fluttered your eyes, “I don’t want a gift from you.”
You weren’t mentally prepared for any sick sexual torture he had in store for you. You could see his jaw shift and his eyes dash back and forth.
“Are you sure? I think you’ll like it.”
Your hands touched the collar hopefully. Maybe it was the key?
He slid his hands under your armpits. You heard your bag hit the dry side of the floor.
He lifted you with ease to your feet and pressed a hand at the small of your back, pushing you to the bathroom.
He was so huge compared to you. The lower ceiling made you have a flash of worry...what if he hit his head?
He was fine.
He turned on the shower and peeled away your clothes. He wasn’t rough, and he wasn’t leering...he was soft...and patient. He pushed your long sleeved shirt up and gasped at the sight of bruises Lloyd created from the gym. His thumb unkindly pressed into one. You whined and tried to step away but your ass pressed into the vanity sink.
He knew he hadn’t given you these.
“And who has my puppy been playing rough with? Don’t tell me you’ve spread your legs for someone else now...”
He turned you around slowly, inspecting the marks he had not made on your skin. His hands palmed over your flesh.
The steam from the shower began to whaf out. You tried to not imagine the water bill ticking up.
He pinched your bra off and watched your arms circle to cover your chest.
He turned you back to face him. Unbuttoning your jeans, he tugged them down and helped take off your shoes. He pressed his lips to a bruise on your outer thigh. The temptation to throw your knee into his throat was great.
His hand cupped the back of your knee. His nose was so close to your underwear covered pussy, you could feel his hot breath tickling your clit.
Your panties were gradually pulled down to your ankle and you used his shoulder for balance as you stood out of the flimsy material.
He stood back and opened the shower door for you. He left the bathroom door open and you didn’t want to risk a punishment for locking him out. He took your clothes to the laundry and heard him open your cleaning supply closet where you kept a mop and broom and vacuum cleaner.
As you soaped your body, the suds building along your skin and back you sighed. The collar rubbed against your neck. It was a reminder...
He was powerful. He was scary and you were risking death. You had just tried to kill him...at any moment he could bash your head in until your skull caved, no one would find you for days...maybe weeks...he said he wouldn’t kill you but that was before you pulled a gun on him.
You were angry at yourself...angry at Ben....why would the gun be empty?! Couldn’t Nick have told you that? Maybe he assumed you knew how to handle one...
August came back into the bathroom after ten minutes of cleaning. You didn’t dare to leave the shower in that time.
He was back. And now...he was naked. You uncontrollably worried and pressed your back into the bathroom tile. He stood into the shower, stealing the hot spray when it hit his back.
He was so hairy, and huge. He was like a bear.
You gulped and glanced at his dick. He was flaccid but you knew he could fuck you with a soft dick or just his hands alone.
He held out his hand and whispered, “The soap, please.”
Your hand shook as you shakily handed over the small white bar. It was the cheapest shit on the shelves you could find.
Now you regretted not spending the money you saw in your bank account. You would die feeling poor.
You tried to cover your nakedness. A hand between your thighs. You felt the bareness and cringed your face. He would’ve waxed you again or shaved while you were ‘in his care’ after the club incident.
The huge man started to rub the soap along his thighs and his arms and chest.
He smelt of your vomit...he cleaned it up for you...his clothes...you could hear the laundry machine.
He either was cleaning evidence or he was staying the night.
His face...was soft. He wasn’t angry...he was deep in thought... He was pleased. The faintest of smiles was on his furry face.
When he was finished. He touched your waist and pressed you to turn around him in the cubicle. Now the hot water covered your shivering skin. He rubbed some more soap into his hands and rubbed the bubbled into your skin. Along the back of your neck he rubbed and pinched. A tiny moan imminently slipped from your lips. You hoped he hadn’t heard it.
He did...
You knew he was gliding his hands down to your bottom and rubbing the darkened skin he planted when he spanked you. You hissed and softly swore as his thumb pressed in. A small threat, a warning? A reminder...
He touched you everywhere except your tits and your cunt...which shocked you as you braced from his hands every time they drew near those areas. The sense of denial played in your mind.
Your body felt warm...humming as it was teased.
He did touch the leather around your neck and tutted at the parts you damaged with scissors, where the metal you couldn’t cut poked out.
Turning the shower off, August opened the door again and guided you out onto the soft floor mat. He took a towel from the vanity draw and wrapped it over your shoulders like you were some kid at the beach.
He wrapped a towel around his waist. His body dripping and soaking into the edge.
You were poked out of the room and made to go into your room. Your dad’s door was still open however and that made you uncomfortable.
On your bed...was a box....
The gift...was an actual gift!? It was wrapped in white and gold paper with a pink tulle ribbon around it.
You shifted your towel around to wrap yourself in and looked between the man leaning on the doorway and the wrapped box on your bed.
He nodded to it. Open it. A silent command.
Your curled your lips into your mouth as you pulled the tulle ribbon away and scratched the paper back.
A deep gasp left your chest, “A phone?...”
It was one of the newest if the models you used. This type of phone usually cost three thousand dollars!
Behind you the awful man laughed softly, “For stepping on the one from the club.”
The tiny smile that was coming to your lips, disappeared. If he hadn’t reminded you of that night, you might’ve kept smiling. Your fist clenched. You were angry. Did he know how scared you were as you ran in the dark? Did he know you hated him even more because of this gift. This wasn’t a gift, this was a bribe...
Your jaw ticked and you turned on your heel, you held your towel tightly, “I am not saying thankyou.”
He chuckled at that and nodded, he tilted his head to the side and wagged a finger at you, “I swear every time I see you, you become twice as fiery.”
When he stood forward you got scared and tripped back and fell onto your bed. The phone box slid to the floor. Your heart raced. You noted how you accidentally flashed him as the towel fell from your hands.
He paused, not moving any further. He could see how frightened you were. And if you didn’t know any better...he didn’t want to scare you today.
His smile fell and he sighed, “Before I forget...your sex toy arrived.”
You crept off your bed as he left the door way. He was quickly back before you could make an escape.
He held a box and threw it to you. Without thought you let go of your towel and caught the box with the erotic images and product on it.
Stark nude and wet you stood. You turned away from him and put the box with your newly bought toy on the bed. You put your phone box beside it.
He was watching you with bird eyes as you tried to pick up the towel and cover yourself again.
“So let me see,” he hummed, he crossed his arms over his chest and clicked his tongue, “First you threaten to kill me,” he pushed away from the door, “You then attempt to actually kill me,” and he shakes his head chuckling, “and now I find out my cock isn’t enough to satisfy? Good heavens...have I neglected my greedy little puppy?”
Your hands lifted... Your towel was loose but you had tucked it to your body. You prepared your fighting stance like how Lloyd showed you.
“Get out...” you spat.
“No,” he smirked, “I will not.” He launched forward.
He grabbed your towel and you slipped from the material. You ran around his body, ripping his towel off as you ran out.
You slipped on water droplets in the hall and slid down the hall to the kitchen.
As he came around the corner, you flung a cupboard door open hard that smacked his hard in the face. You smiled hearing his painful groan.
"Fuck!"
He pushed it back and tried to grab you as you ran around the mini island. You threw his towel at his face as you made a rush back to your room. You managed to lock a chain and bolt on the bedroom door. You panicked and climbed under your pathetic single bed. You heard him behind the wood.
“Open up little puppy...or I’m gonna huff...” he said, “and then I’ll puff...”
When you made no sign of opening the door and remaining beneath the bedframe. The door burst open. The locks tore through the metal nook. He walked through. He nakedly crouched by the side of the bed and sighed at you curled up under your bed. He shook his head and softly smiled. He laid flat on the floor beside you.
“Watcha doin down there sweetness?”
You felt a breath escape you. A soft laugh. Was he fucking serious?!
“Hiding,” you mumbled into your wrists.
He fluttered his eyes shut. His hand rested on his Bare stomach.
“Well I found you, so you might as well come out. You’re black and blue. I don’t want to drag you over the carpet, don’t want rip up your knees pup.”
You couldn’t understand why he kept calling you that. You weren’t a puppy...you...you were human and you still weren’t sure how that pet name even fit you .
You knew he was right though, there was only way out and it didn’t matter. You would need to face him. If he wanted to kill you, nothing could’ve stopped him from strangling your throat. After a minute or two you finally gave in... Wiggling your butt from under the bed. He moved up to his knees. He watched you stick your head out and shimmy to the open air.
You knew trying to run out the door was useless and there was no other locks other than the front door. You rubbed your lips, staring at the broken locks and the door that hung off only one hinge...you really hated him...
His large soft hand rubbed your cheek and the back of your neck, cupping you closer to his body.
Both in your knees, he pulled you into his chest.
You pleaded softly, “Please...”
“Kiss me puppy,” he begged and looked down at your lips. You glanced to his eyes and shut yours as your pushed your face up.
He was gentle. His tongue poked Into your mouth and your lips closed. He kissed you and sucked on your bottom lip loudly. God it felt good. It felt hot and inviting. This kiss was like a deep hot bath or a cosy blanket. His hands squeezed your arms and cocooned you closer to his damp skin. You just wanted to wrap yourself in his body and sleep...except your body felt attacked by an invisible electricity, like a dozen bees rumbling down from your chest to the folds between your thighs.
Your could barely breathe.
When he pulled back he shuddered, “Are you turned on?”
You gasped, “No, why would I-”
“You’re trembling.”
“I’m scared,” your nose twitched and your gazed over his chest, feeling his cock twitch against your belly.
He chuckled and shook his head, he pressed a hard kiss against your cheek, “Merely two sides of the same coin...”
You whimpered and felt his hands smooth down your ass to your thighs. He lifted you up and pushed you onto your bed. You were at the same height now. Him kneeling on the floor with your sitting on your bed.
“You are safe, trust me,” he kissed your lips briskly, “Say it.”
“I...” you hesitated, “I am safe...and I trust you.”
His thumb pressed under your jaw, he kissed you again, “Good girl. I am not going to hurt you...truly...I promise.”
He dragged his lips down to your chest. He sucked in one of your tits. His lips smacked as he licked and sucked around your skin, you felt strange. Dirty but in a good way. Your own back curled to push into his mouth.
He pulled up after one satisfying suck, “That felt good yea?”
“S-so good,” you stuttered. Your cheeks felt warm it was like you were drunk but you knew you had a full sober conscious..
“Would you like to feel that again?” he asked, his hands ran up your thighs, spreading your knees.
You sighed as his thumb licked at your clit. You rocked your hip a little and whined. Fuck it felt good.
“Answer me puppy”
“I- oh god- I want to feel that again.”
He kissed your belly and pushed you back a little. Your head thudded against the wall. Your hands shakily grasped some pillows and put them behind your back. Your gleaming cunt glistened...that was totally you...no lube...no spit....just your arousal alone.
“Look at this pussy.” He marvelled as he pushed two fingers inside. You gasped and let out a feral moan.
“It just swallows up my fingers...do you like my fingers fucking your wet pussy?”
You whined and but your lip. When you didn’t answer, he pulled them out. He started licking them lewdly as he waited for your reply.
“I...” Your hands covered your eyes as you moaned, “I don’t know.”
“Are you turned on?” he asked you again.
“Yes,” you admitted. You just wanted his fingers back there again.
“Do you want my cock?” He purred in a soft belittling time.
“Y-yes...” you almost sobbed. God admitting it now made yourself sick. How could you admit to that? Your entire goal was to kill him. Take him down. Destroy his reputation. But here you were.
In your bedroom, crying for him to fuck you with his huge dick.
He climbed on top of you and tugged your ankles over his waist.
You felt his hard head press into your hole. His cock popped inside and his hips started the deep defend inside of you. He held your hips, lifting you up.
“Do you hate me?” he crooned, his teeth gnawed at your earlobe.
“I do,” you growled, in his ear, “fucking hate your guts.”
He laughed and groaned, “You hate my fucking guts?”
“Yes, fuck,” you gasped and scratched the back of his neck.
He was stretching you out and you drowned in his touch. You felt his cock tapping at your special spot and felt your knees clench tighter around his ribs.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked despite being balls deep and jerking his hips into yours.
“Yes. Oh god,” you gargled as he decided to slam himself harder and faster. Your nails dug into his biceps. Your teeth were grit tightly. You kept swearing. It hurt and felt so good altogether.
“Who do you belong to?” he sighed, his eyes winced while your pussy clenched him tightly.
You grunted angrily, “No body.”
He punctuated with his jerking hips, “You. Belong. To. Me.”
“N-no!” You yelped, his finger curled under your collar and tugged up you neck until you were forced to put yourself up on your elbows. He slowed his speed but kept his deep entrance.
“Oh but you do puppy, you do. You already know it. You just don’t want to admit it.”
His other hand pressed against your clit and your eyes rolled a little. Your nostril flared. Fuck that was painfully good. He tugged you up by the leather strap until your nose pressed against his. His moustache tickles against your lip.
“Whose collar is around this throat?” he growlee.
You grunted, “Yours.”
“That’s right...it’s. Mine. My. Collar.”
He kissed you hard and possessively. Not once did he let the collar go. He shoved his mouth into your ear as he ground down hard inside your cunt.
“Would you fuck any other man with this collar on?”
Your hand hugged the back of his neck and scratched, “No!”
“So tell me, who do you belong to.”
Your gasped, spit flying from your mouth against his as you said it, “Y-you.”
“That’s right, good puppy. You belong to me. I own you. You are my pet. You are mine to look after...mine to protect.”
It was a mantra, a speech that planted itself into your mind as a new fact...like a new commandment that always had been yet unspoken until now.
“Say it you little bitch,” he barked.
“Yours, I’m yours,” your eyes rolled as you started to cum, your words caught in your mouth until you Released a ear piercing scream, “I belong to you!!”
You felt him cackle as you wailed through the orgasm. The pressure was like a water balloon bursting in your belly and shooting a burning pleasure through your cunt.
It took you a while to calm down. You sobbed. The pleasure was too much...you felt confused and consumed. His cock twitch and he grunted loudly before freezing. His cock moved again and you felt him pull away, his cum rushed out and dripped out of you.
You felt full and empty. It was an unusual sensation.
He was sweating, your were drenched. Leaning over your trembling body, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and sighed, “what are you?”
“Yours,” you whined.
He chuckled and shook his head. His fingers pinched your jaw, “No, what are you to me?”
“I...” you paused and blinked lazily. Your brain was too fuzzy. “I don’t understand...I don’t know.”
Your hand wandered up to your throat. His hand was fiddling with the metal. You heard the collar pop and click. He pulled the collar away and threw it over his shoulder, “You’re my puppy.”
"And..." You voice rattled through your teeth, "And you're...daddy?"
He kissed you again and nodded, "Good girl."
HELPLINES:
If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .
Chapter Summary: The ten year anniversary soiree is here for August's Lion Lounge club. And he's awfully surprised to see you, an uninvited guest...careful now....
Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Gambling, Non-Con, Piss, Manipulation, Threats, Sexual Assualt, Bondage, Murder, Violence, Strangulation, Public Execution, Kidnapping, Bondage, Slight Daddy Kink, Slight Puppy Play Kink, Petnames.
Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader
Word Count: 8k
Author Notes: I honestly don't know how to gamble or how it works. I read a quick wiki instruction and played a game. If anyone actually knows how to play, let me know and I'll change the writing.
Inspiring Song: "Poker Face." By Lady Gaga.
07:00pm Friday 16th August 2024, Fortitude Valley, Brisbane.
When Lloyd met you in the foyer and escorted you to the car, you noticed how his neck was tight against his bow tie. His bruised face and knuckles had lightened. He had waxed his moustache and curled the tips upward.
He whistled low and gawked at you all over. Your foot rubbed the back of your calf shyly. You were decadent in pearls and metallic shimmering from your dress.
He reminded you that your role was too find August and do whatever you could to distract him from figuring out that Lloyd, a police officer undercover had infiltrated his event.
Lloyd gave you another hundred dollars and said it was for gambling and pleasure purposes only. If August could be distracted by a drink, a game of poker, a jukebox dance even a pokie machine, that should give Lloyd plenty of time to look around for an illegal weapons auction.
You both got out of the car and found yourself escorted on his arm passed the body guard checking the invites.
You clenched a small purse under your arm tighter as you entered the massive club. It left you briefly speechless.
The floor was covered in black and gold mixed marble. The club was an old building. Probably over a century or two old. It had a huge bar and multiple show rooms. On one stage was a burlesque dancer shaking her covered nipples. In another part was a casino theme of tables and machines. And to the sides were seats, tables and booths.
Lloyd got you both to sit down and he ordered a drink. He sipped his whiskey and glanced at the stairs that spiralled up to more private rooms.
“There he is, balcony, beside the blonde.”
You tried to not be obvious when you looked over your shoulder. August was smirking with a drink in his hand, shaking hands with an old bald gentleman with beady eyes and a brief case.
As that older fellow walked away Lloyd murmured, “And that’s our cue.”
He moved out of his seat and left the whiskey behind.
You waited a few minutes. You stared at the reflection of August in the whiskey glass and bit your lip. That man was a monster. He had raped you, humiliated you and made you scared…except now you had teeth and claws to flex.
You shut your eyes and prayed to get out alive. Picking up the glass you tossed your head back and finished what Lloyd had left. Your lipstick smudged the beautiful glasswork.
You abandoned the booth and deposited the glass.
You turned back and started to glide up those stairs in your small heeled feet. You felt immaculate, confident. And you were sure…he had seen you as you ran your hand up the banister.
You slowly moved around him. He hadn’t turned to look at you yet. A blonde woman was on his other side, whispering in his ear with her seductive rose lips. She was gorgeous, legs long and slender waist. Her dress was a deep burgundy red and her gloves black. She made you look like the frumpiest woman in the club.
You leant against the railing beside them at a respectful distance. You looked over the dance floor. You recognised local representative politicians mingling, kissing, all salacious actions that the average public would be shocked to witness. A Greenie with her tongue down a Nationalists throat.
From your side you could feel his eyes. You couldn't tell if August was glaring daggers, but you knew he had seen you.
Your fingers squeezed the railing tight.
You took a deep breath in and focused not to stutter, “Fancy seeing you here.”
You managed to angle your face his way. You prayed he wouldn't look at your hands, trembling on top of the metal bar.
He looked down at his glass cup. He turned away from his golden haired friend and smirked at you. The woman attached to his side flashed you a sickly fake smile. Her eyes were full of scornful judgement.
He chuckled lightly, eyes raking up and down your body in a way to made you feel like meat in the deli section.
“Well, I do own the club Miss Y/L/N or did you not read my name on the invitation?”
You curled your toes and strained a brave smile, “Oh of course, but business is always busy with men like you…”
You looked away from him briefly, trying to compose yourself. Your hands were starting to shake while your knees felt light. You swallowed hard and returned to face his predator eyes.
“Men like me?” He purred and turned his body to lean on the railing.
You nodded slowly, trying to find a way to answer him and continue the conversation.
“Men like you,” was all you could repeat back firmly. You could feel a line of sweat crawl down the back of your neck.
He chuckled and held his empty cup to his feminine companion.
“Natalie, be a dear and fetch me some Guinness and whatever you’d like.”
Natalie winked at him and gave a girlish laugh when he smacked her backside. You wanted to scoff but at the same time you pitied her. You were scared she would be his next sexual victim. She toddled down the stairs and August slid himself closer to you on the railing. His fingers fluttered and circled around your neck. It was too public a place for him to squeeze any tighter. He couldn’t kill you out here, it was too public. His fingers softly moved over the spot where your pulse sat.
“Why are you here?” He raised his brow to you as he purred, “How did you even get in, huh? I know you didn’t get the invitation…so…have you come to take some more photos? We could have a quick interview in my office if you’d like.”
His lips were amused, but his eyes were dark and annoyed. Annoyed with you.
You shuddered, you weren’t too interested in his offering, but you had to consider how much time Lloyd needed to gain incriminating information. Lloyd didn’t know you had your phone down the front of your dress. It was risky but you wanted to catch anything if the occasion arose.
Your glanced at him, your bottom lip trembled slightly, you nuzzled his hand that started to cup your cheek.
Lightly shaking your head you said calmly, “I got your photos…the envelope…so no photos tonight…”
He chuckled and leered down your chest before leaning in closer to your face moaning, “So…what have you come for?”
You were frustrated that Lloyd really thought you’d be able to do this….this improvisation was nearly impossible when you had to face a man with a mean face. It was the tension of your chest snapping, the breath you were holding broke in a breathy sigh which was close to a gasp.
“The party,” you lied, you leant closer and let your noses touch, “Just to party.”
You laid your hand on his chest and rubbed it in large low circles. The whiskey was warm in your cheeks. You felt daring. Your heart beating strong in your ears. Do it now or you might as well drown. You squeezed your eyes shut and tightened your insides as you pushed up and kissed his mouth. His moustache scratched your top lip as you forced yourself onto him. It was a hard lip pressing peck, you felt his hot breath fan your face. The smell of his malted breath mad a hot light sing in between your legs. Your heart was thundering in your chest,
His wide cold eyes bore into your soul and he chuckled, “You make such a fucking terrible liar.”
It was like he had punched you in the gut the way the air had left your body.
“August dear, I have your drink!” the ringing of Natalie’s voice had his head turned away and letting you go. You couldn’t think, you just stood there absolutely frozen.
August collected his new refreshment, taking an impressive gulp, and you watched him lean closer to the blonde, “The accounts are settled, you can piss off now Nat.”
Her false smile faltered into a malicious smirk. She winked at you before she fled back down the stairs and greeted another gentleman in a tuxedo. You felt sick.
August leant back and cupped your waist in his awfully huge hand, “Let’s take a walk.”
He smirked feeling the shiver roll down your back. His hand squeezed your fingers as he led you down the staircase. You frantically looked out to the room and dance floor. You hoped you might see Lloyd, you might call out for him to save you.
“Ever played Roulette?” he asked setting his empty Guinness on a passing waitress tray.
You shook your head and heard him chuckle, “Of course you haven’t, good girl like you hasn’t done many things at all.”
You were slightly offended by his wording no matter how much it might’ve been true deep down.
He put his hand back to your lower back and led you to the casino rooms. There were multiple tables with different games involving cards and chips. But there was a long table surrounded by at least twenty or thirty well dressed men with their arm candy super model women. At the end was a dealer with a long metal pole. He wore a golden coloured suit. He looked serious and when his eyes caught the sight of August that cold aura disappeared. A giant smile graced his cranky appearance.
“Want to join the game sir?” he asked, “We just finished a game.”
August smiled and said, “Yes, give me ten black chips, six purple and…” he sucked his teeth, “Six yellow.”
The dealer smiled and nodded, he handed his boss, your rapist, the eftpos machine before pushing some chips towards the edge of the table you both next to.
Your eyes widened. The black chips had the number of one hundred, the purple was five hundred and the pretty yellow chips were decorate with a one and three zeros. You had a wild guess that those digits were the amount of money he was putting on the table.
To August it was nothing.
The dealer was selling other chips to the players that were from the old game wanting to buy more while August groped your hip and pressed his nose to your ear, “Lets start off easy, pick, red or black.”
You looked at the table, there were numbers between zero and thirty six. Half the numbers were covered in red, the other half in black. Your mouth felt dry. You really didn’t know what you were doing.
“Bl-“ you cleared your throat as his hand cupped your backside under the table, “Black.”
He smiled, “Now pick, do you prefer even numbers or odd?”
You looked over the red squares and noticed how half looked odd and the other half was even, you weren’t sure if this would help or set you back.
“Odd numbers,” you whispered.
His breath was hot and his eyes were trapping you where you stood. You felt embarrassed to meet his looks.
“Dealer, One hundred on Black and one hundred on Odds.”
The dealer smirked, you knew that dealer knew this wasn’t really Augusts choice.
He spun the wheel that had a metal ball tapping along inside. Round and round the crimson and black. The ball landed onto black thirty five. You held your breath.
“And now,” August purred, “You’ve just won an extra two hundred dollars pup.”
The light in your chest bloomed with excitement, the butterflies rained like a storm in your belly. You were amazed at how it was to win so quickly…but then what if it was red even that won? Or just black and even? Would you have lost it all? Half? You were tickled with curiosity to learnt this grown up game. Two new black chips along with the original were pushed back to you. August thick fingers stacked them on top of each other in a bundle.
“Lets play again, now…see those top numbers, one to twelve, thirteen to twenty four, twenty five to thirty six?” he said, gesturing to the top of the red and black chart against the green fuzzy felt of the table.
“Pick one of those three groups.”
You sucked in a breath and tried to strategize….you had more numbers in the two boxes. You didn’t want to risk less numbers more chance of losing…
“One to twelve?” you said, his large hand rubbed on your ass pressing you closer to the table edge.
“Dealer, a purple chip on the one twelve,” he said cooly not even looking at the dealer this time as he said it. You wanted to know what he was thinking as he stared right down into your skull.
“Yes sir,” said the dealer pushing the five hundred chip over the dozen number group,
“Spin hockey,” August barked and clapped his hands.
And the bowl with a ball spun. it settled on number five. The table players groaned as their games were losing. Luck of the gods must’ve been over you tonight…
“And now you’ve won an extra thousand dollars,” he hummed.
The damn game made no sense except you were happy to be winning. You didn’t expect the fear you got from being in Augusts palm mixed with the joy of winning at gambling would make you aroused and wanting.
The yellow chip was pushed to you and you daringly picked it up. It was pretty, the emboss was August Lion symbol.
“Now…see those three columns that say two to one? There’s a right, middle and left. Pick one,” he plucked the chip from your curious fingers.
“Right,” you bravely exclaim. August laughed and turned to the dealer who had gotten back to your turn, “You heard the lady, yellow on right column.”
The chip was planted and the wheel spun once more…landing on black eleven…a middle column. And just like that, a thousand dollars gone…All the warmth left your body. Now you understood a gambling drop felt worse than the gambling high. His hand snuck it’s way across your lower belly. He moved you closer into his side. His hot breath fanned over you neck.
He tutted at you, “See the risk? Got all the blood rushing, didn’t it and now you’re feeling that punch of loss?”
You slowly shook your head, agreeing. Thank fuck it wasn’t your money or the money Lloyds' had given you. So far you’d at least made August a two hundred dollars profit from the original ten thousand he bought out.
August held your hips and pressed you back into his crotch. He wasn’t hard but you could feel his warm body heat and the shape of his soft cock in his pants.
His mouth purred along the shell of your ear, “Now, Puppy, choose one number.”
He was standing behind you, trapping you against the table flushed. None of the other players took notice and if they did they didn’t care. Because maybe they didn’t know what type of monster this monster could be.
“N-nineteen,” you stuttered, choosing your age might be a safer option.
“Tell the dealer,” he whispered.
You swallowed. You felt hot and a foul arousal between your thighs. You thought about the time you played Pool with August. Your first kiss...
“Nineteen please sir,” you said to the gold suited man.
“Chip type?”
August whispered like he was telling you the dirtiest secret, “Tell him you’re all in.”
You repeat the term and made it sound like a question. You had a feeling you knew what it meant after watch movies ‘Bounty Hunter’ with Jennifer ashton and Gerald Butler. The dealer glanced at August and smirked, “All in number nineteen.”
The long metal pole came out and scooped up all your chips to the nineteen box.
When the ball began to spin inside the wheel your belly twisted and your hands desperately squeezed Augusts. You remembered there was at least ten thousand two hundred dollars on the number and you were truly risking losing all his money. You damn well knew that Lloyd didn’t give you that much and there’s be no way to pay August back.
Your eyes ran round and round the wheel, you held your breath as the metal ball landed and bounced between the numbers. You felt weak in the knees. The wheel slowed and you nearly vomited from anticipation alone managing to force your arse harshly back into August you sound and desperately buried your face into his expensive cologne soaked shirt. You worried and bit your lip hard as the clattering silver ball stopped and the wheel paused.
You could imagine the dealers face peering down into the black and red bowl of fortunes and curses, debts and dreams.
“Congratulations little lady in front row, number Nineteen, you have won three million five hundred and seven thousand dollars,” said the dealer over an excited cheering crowd.
You swore you misheard, your knees wobbled as you dared to look up at Augusts grinning face. You looked over your shoulder and true to the dealers word, that silver ball sat in the groove of red painted with the number nineteen. All the air was drained from your lips. You could’ve fainted. You couldn’t believe it. Out of all the bad luck in your life, this felt truly unbelievable. You wished your father was here to see this. You started to smile...and then the squealing crawled out of your throat. You jumped up and down on your feet, your fingers squeezed Augusts arm tightly. The buzz inside you was wild. Your adrenaline was jumping out of adrenaline was jumping out of our throat. You knew the money wasn’t yours. It was Augusts but knowing that you’d managed to win that much by chance sent the greatest wave of euphoria.
“I won! I won! I won!” tears prickles your eyes and you cupped your mouth.
August smiled into your cheek and chuckled softly, “Yes, you did.” His moustache scratched against your cheek, he smelt like Guinness and felt like total warmth on a cold night. His thumb rubbed beneath your arm near the space of your ribs and breast.
The dealer couldn’t give you that many chips but digitally sent a code with the prize to August as owner of the card that bought the chips in the first place.
August laughed and spun you around on your feet, he tugged you away from the roulette table towards the dance floor where a slow dance was taking place to the sombrous tones of Frank Sinatra.
“Oh my god, I did that, I can’t believe I just did that,” you muttered happily in a daze, a high. You suddenly forgot entirely everything that August had done to you in the past few weeks. You forgot your entire purpose of why you were even there. His charming face was beaming in pride.
His warm lips pecked your forehead and cheek, he repeated, “Yes, you did.”
“I mean I know it’s your money but just the thrill of just- my god,” you sucked in a new breath of air and sighed, “Thankyou for letting me experience that.”
He hummed and swayed your bodies together slowly. He could’ve picked you up and carried you away and you weren’t sure if you would’ve protested.
“My money?” he chuckled, “I can right you a cheque if you’d really like. Bank it tomorrow.”
You scoffed in disbelief, you shook your head at him, “Don’t be mean August, like you’d just give me three million dollars, be fucking for real.”
He pinched your bottom making you hiss lightly as you danced in his arms and he scolded teasingly, “Language.”
You threw your head back and giggled. You were still riding the drunk high of life.
“Welcome to bloody Australia Mister Walker,” you tapped a finger on his chest, his suit felt so smooth and expensive like silk instead of basic cotton, “Where we say all kinds of things casually; Ass, cunt, fuck, bitch, bastard and so on.”
He bent you backwards and cradled your spine as his lips pressed up into your jaw and neck, “Oh fret not, I’ll discipline it out of you. I’d rather have you speaking like a true lady who cares about her appearance.”
You scoffed again and rolled your eyes. You didn’t give a flying care in the world what he thought about a true lady. He wasn’t a true gentleman. You pushed a little away from him.
The high of life became dangerous impulsive boldness, “Why? So I can teach you that true gentleman don’t drug and rape women?”
A few heads turned at your words out of the thousands dancing and gambling around you. His jolly gaze turned black and ice. His frown was deep and displeasure greatly obvious. He looked ready to kill you...
The shudder in your chest returned. It was like a bucket of icy water dunking over your head. That glare made you sober and sheepish. You pushed away gently and smoothed your dress out.
“I...I need to pee.”
You didn’t actually, yet the fear consumed you enough, blanketing over you and you needed an escape from the danger you had willingly nosed dived into. It was the only explanation for you to flee briefly and compose yourself for more of his aggression.
His hands were tight on your wrists.
“August, I’m sorry...please let me go to the loo.”
He let you go, and muttered, “It’s upstairs, be quick, we need to talk.”
You hissed when the blood pumped back into your flesh, you felt your wrists throb in rings. Stepping backwards shakily you almost fell back into a passing waiter. It felt impossible to remove your eyes from him, to make sure he wasn’t following you.
You could feel him watching you as you kept walking to those stairs. Up the grand stairs you scurried away from him for the seconds he was distracted looking away from you, grabbing a new drink.
Just find the ladies toilet and he can’t come in right?
Your head was pounding. Breathless and flushed you didn’t look at the signs on doors. You didn’t even need the bathroom, honestly, you just needed to sit down.
Relief filled you as you looked behind. You couldn’t see August and knew he still wasn’t following you. You leant against a door and turned the handle hoping out of all these doors, this would be a toilet.
When you fell inside. You noted the room was empty…but there was also no toilet…instead there was a couch to your left and to your right a massive wall with a control panel and TVs lining the wall…on the televisions were colourful pictures moving, replaying the events of the party…they were the viewpoints of cameras…security.
You were in the security room!
With widened eyes you closed the door behind you entirely and awed at the stuff you were watching…
There wasn’t just one party going on tonight.
The screen showed the rest of the club you hadn’t had the pleasure of observing. The back stages dancers change room, the full game slot casino, a smokers room where a stripper was sucking some random man off. Your stomach twisted.
There were men sniffing coke off a woman’s thigh. Other people in another room were injecting each other with heroin.
There was a room auctioning paintings and appeared to be a business meeting. Multiple men were sitting on couches and bar stools watching while a stunning woman in the middle waving at expensive items…. Katarina Vikander. She wore a stunning green gown that hugged her body, around her neck was a thick row of diamonds, she looked like an old Hollywood actress.
You stepped closer to the screen and traced the figures of people and faces you recognised. There were even famous local politicians. Your mouth felt dry. You knew it was a simple auction but the items were familiar, they were museum pieces. There were items that morally speaking belonged to the indigenous Meanjin people. It was a inexplicable scandal.
Then there was Lloyd! He was sitting beside an older man with the bald head and beady eyes. In that man’s lap was a young woman with dark flowing hair in a very short dress, definitely young enough to be his granddaughter. yuck!
It was a room of gentlemen and their own weapons to show off. Guns and blades you were confident weren’t even allowed to be sold in Australia after the Port Arthur Massacre. There were tommy guns and automatic rifles. There were trench knives and a urban skinner daggers. Things you’d only seen in movies.
You pulled out your phone and started taking photos of the screens. They would be bad quality photos, not well enough to publish to the press but it didn’t matter, evidence was still important. August was willingly allowing this in his club and on the unlikely chance he wasn’t, it was still occurring in his club, he’d be responsible.
You thought about the amount of people these guns and knives could or had already killed. You clicked some more and quickly sat in the empty chair. There was a couch behind you, you noted the strange red splatter stains over the cushions. You took another picture. You didn’t want to consider if it was blood because that lead to the question of whose blood it was...you shuddered.
No wonder he didn’t appear as excited as you when you won the three million dollars…he probably made that in a week from profits out of these illegal auctions.
You held your breath and watched the screens further.
Soon Lloyd would bust the club. He’d call back up and the floor would go wild. Now it was a matter of waiting. Any minute now, you bet.
You took photos of the men doing drugs with the strippers and the gambling and finally the bar. You wondered how much of the alcohol would’ve been watered down to save money. It even clicked to wonder if the club even had a license to sell alcohol while the casino was open.
You were checking the photos and perched yourself on the couch when the door opened. You gasped and dropped your phone on the ground with a loud clatter.
The looming shadow entered the dark room. It was him…August…he stood inside and closed the door, away from the party, silencing the booming hustle and bustle.
“No photos tonight?” his brows lifted and a smile spread while he tutted, “Oh my sweet girl, you’re breaking daddy’s heart.”
You leant down and grabbed the phone again and shoved it into your clutch purse.
“I-I wasn’t using my c-camera…” you poorly lied.
You stood up spritely and tried to find away around him. He leant against the door, blocking your escaped. His eyes rolled from the screens back to you.
He flashed a sinister fanged smile and shook his head, “Oh no, no, I think it’s about time we chat little Miss Y/N…don’t you?”
You pouted and snarled, “Get out of my way August.”
He shook his head again and sucked his teeth, “Tell me why you really came tonight, and I will.”
You gulped. You clenched your first and said louder, “Get out of my way August or I’ll fucking scream and I’ll make a damn scene.”
He stood in silence for three solid seconds before nodding.
He moved away from the door but as you tried to pass him reaching for the doorhandle, he grabbed your waist and hauled you back. You were launched back across the floor and landed hard and sharp on the carpet. The air was knocked from your lungs and your hands lost grip of your clutch.
Gaining your bearings quickly, you shrieked and cowered. You raised your hands and shuddered. You were so sure he was going to punch and kick you, instead a soft strong hand curled over your wrist and tugged you to your knees.
“Come here,” he softly murmured, while he gently made you crawl over to the couch. On the cushions he sat before he pulled you into his thick lap. Your legs were trapped between his, while you were held on his lap.
You felt so small, so weak. His hands were warm, and strong, you were growing sore as your body overcame the shock of him throwing you back into the room. It made you feel terrified at how simply he was able to manhandle you. All those weeks without his presence had somehow made you forget how deadly and scary he could be. And despite being in his club, in a public place, he still had the upperhand and power to take what he wanted.
Your body shook as his hands touched you. He was so calm…it was unsettling and struck icily in your blood. This was the August you met that afternoon two weeks ago. This is the August that duct taped you and forced you to cum in your fathers recliner chair.
“You wearing any wires baby?” He cooed as his hand stuck down your dress top and another slipped up your thighs. You didn’t fight, but your fingers pleadingly hooked into his shirt sleeve while his hand dug around and slid around your breasts, groping your soft flesh.
His hand the groped around your thighs and lingered when cupping near your underwear. A stream of sweat trailed your face, what if he felt how wet you were in your underwear?
You shook your head and pitifully whimpered, “N-no, just the ph-phone in my bag.”
His lips pressed against your shoulder and neck before finally going to your ear, “This is what’s going to happen…” he purred, “You’re going to be my good girl and do everything I tell you, or else I’m going kill your piggy friend.”
You gasped as his fingers rubbed at your underwear covered clit.
“Wh-what?!”
“Yes poppet, I know about him,” he chuckled and sucked on your earlobe loudly, “He’s not very smart, coming here…his wire, he’s wearing…it’s not going to pick up anything.”
Your eyes dared to glance at the cameras, Lloyd was still on the screen, still watching the auction.
August moved his mouth to your other ear and moved your underwear aside, his finger easily slipped inside of you, tearing a whine from your lips at how wet you were.
“Has he fucked you yet?” He mocked, “Has the piggy touched what’s mine? Stuffed that dirty cock in this pretty puppy pussy?”
You choked on a rising sob, “No, now please st-stop.”
Tears streamed down your cheeks, tears August kissed away softly. You were watching the screens, Lloyd was looking around the room from the chair he was sitting in. Someone handed him a drink. You didn’t know what he was saying as he laughed at someone. You just wanted him to call back up, before you potentially were raped again.
August paused and slipped in another thick finger, “So…you thought you’d help him? Think I’d be so blind? It breaks my heart that either of you thought I was that dumb. This whole time I’ve been telling myself you weren’t a threat, just a dumb little girl…but that’s not entirely true huh? Miss picture perfect, taking photos she fucking well shouldn’t be.”
Your whimpered and wept with salty tears that stung hard. You heard him shuffle as he propped you onto one knee. A moment later, something hard and cold touched your cheek. You were certain this was your fault. You didn’t distract him enough, instead you ran off like a cowered. You sobbed and found it difficult to breathe seeing what that hard object in the corner of your eye was. If you weren’t so scared you might’ve screamed…
“Did you wear this for me baby?” He asked, rubbing your cheek with the warm tip of the gun, “Awfully pretty, awfully expensive for someone like you.”
Your eyes fell down at the dress you’d bought earlier that day. God you regretted it all now, all the excitement you felt buying it for tonight, it was all backfiring. You bought it knowing this was something he might want, it made you feel rich and sensual. It was your shield of confidence, ironic how a shield means nothing compared to a gun pressed to your head.
“Yes,” you wailed, “Please just let us go.”
“Us?” He scoffed scornfully, “And you’re telling me, you’re not fucking him.”
His fingers curled harshly and pinched your inner walls, cupping and shaking your entire cunt in his hand roughly.
You whined and choked, “it’s- n-not his faul- fault…I’m…I’m-”
Your eyes widened and your mouth fell silent…Jesus fucking Christ. August was covered in a hot wet warmth. He grunted, slowly, he removed his two thick fingers out of your pussy and shook his hand of the wet liquid pouring out with three large wrist flicks.
Mortified, a blubbering fest left you mouth. A line of ‘’please” and “sorry” poured desperately out of you.
Your piss puddled the floor down to his shoes.
You had half expected him to throw you off or kill you in disgust. Instead, August hissed a little as the warm liquid soaked over his trousers. You flinched away. He put his gun back in his pocket.
He laughed darkly, “You are so silly huh? So goddamn innocent,” his wet head cupped your neck and clenched your jaw, “I think I’ve amused you long enough baby, I think it’s time I show you why you were put in my care.”
You fluttered your wet eyes at him, “Please just let Lloyd go,” you swallowed a gulp of air, “I’ll do whatever you want.”
You gagged at the acidic smell of your own urine on his hand burning into your nose. His tongue clicked and he wagged his other finger at you.
“You’re about to see what happens to shits who think to try and bring me and my friends down, go on sunshine, look at the TV’s.”
His hand jerked your head forward. You were forced to watch everything happening in the room where Lloyd was. Within seconds, there were two security guards dragging in a limping man over a giant square of tarp.
“This dumb piece of shit decided to double dip my profits in a club I own down in Sydney…dickhead thought to embezzle me…I don’t like when men take what’s mine…”
The struggling man had a black pillow case shoved over his head. He was pushed to his knees in front of Brandon Sullivan who held a gun he took out from the briefcase. Katarina stood away from the centre of the room and watch him with the brightest smile.
The gun from the suitcase wasn’t particularly impressive. It was a hand gun with an ivory hilt. American.
The barrel was pressed to the pillow case. Your eyes widened.
Your bottom lip fell, “Wait please no, he can’t, stop-”
It was two little light flickers from the tip of the weapon, the bag flutter backwards as the man’s brains were blown through. It wasn’t like the movies. His body just flopped and slammed down on the floor and in seconds the blue tarp was rolled up and dragged away, no time for the blood to soak into the auction room carpet.. Brandon put the gun down and clapped his hands.
Lloyd didn’t flinch…his eyes hid inside his cup.
You gagged and bent your head opening your mouth above Augusts spread knees, the floor not only covered in your urine was also granted a haul of your bile. The whiskey you finished from Lloyds cup came back up hard burning your throat.
Why wasn’t Lloyd arresting them there and then? Why didn’t he leave to call back up?
You trembled watching the detective standup and walk over to order a drink at a private bar. He was so vulnerable standing in the den. And he was wearing a wire that wasn’t even working and you couldn’t tell him. You were helpless, Lloyd was helpless.
“I could kill him right now if I wanted to…” August cooed as you sobbed with the shock of seeing a real person killed in front of your eyes on screen.
You wailed and turned your body away. Buring your face into his shoulder and begged, “Please don’t hurt him, please, dear god. I’ll do whatever you want!”
“Anything?” He sarcastically gasped.
Your whimpered, “Yes!”
He was laughing and humming while he was toying with what he’d do to you. He bounced his knee you were on forcing you to land hard on your crotch and gasping everytime your clit made contact with his thigh and knee.
When he stopped, he pinched your wet inner thigh, “Call me Daddy you piss soaked slut.”
You nodded and tried to slow your meltdown, “O-okay d-daddy, I will.”
“Are you sorry for trying to trick me, whore?” He said harshly.
Your chin shook as you choked out, “S-so sorry daddy. Please forgive me.”
He liked that with how he grunted and moaned.
“I guess I should huh? You come in here, looking for dirt, but you win me gold.”
He pushed you off his lap. You were scared and embarrassment. The feeling of the wet that ran down your legs was drying up, yet the puddle that was drying up was huge. The scent was pungent. Your legs were weak and wobbly. You stumbled and grabbed your clutch with your phone inside.
You heard him clear his throat and flinched when he stated, “We are going back to my office. I have wipes, and spare clothes.”
That would’ve sounded nice except you knew better, you knew he’d just rape you in there…and with these sketchy men in the auction room you could only imagine what else August had business in. Human trafficking on top of all these other crimes wouldn’t have entirely surprised you.
You needed to find a way to get away. Since Lloyd still hadn’t gotten the back up he promised, you knew you would need to abandon him too. Guilt filled your belly, you worried for the cop’s safety, but it came to the dilemma…would you risk this for the chance to save his life, or save yourself and pack up and run for it with the cash he had given you. The amount of money in your clutch could buy you a ticket up north all the way to Townsville. You hardly could imagine a British man like August in the sweltering heat of northern Queensland…only issue? It was a perfect place to hide a body. Sugar cane fields were burned daily up there. If you wanted to dump a body, it would be perfect and convenient…you thought about moving in the opposite direction to New South Wales. The Blue Mountains had a cult you had heard of, maybe they could hide you from him.
“Y/N,” August broke you from your thoughts, he touched your chin and matched your gaze, “Did you hear me? I’m going to clean you up, sort you out.”
You took a ragged breath in and nodded, “Y-yes da-dad-" you gulped loudly, "daddy.”
He smirked and pressed his mouth to yours, pulling back with a sigh, he murmured, “That’s a good girl.”
He placed his hand on your back and moved you forward to the entrance door.
Your fingers reached out and touched the handle. Your other hand was clenching your bag tightly. It was only a door…But the knob turned, and you were faster than him. You slammed it shut behind you when you rushed out the door. You raced and shoved people aside. You heard him rip and bang the door open. You felt his heavy feet chasing behind you.
You felt so fucked! Your heart was palpating, and your thighs were chaffing with that sour smell of your pee dress soaked. You almost slipped down the stairs but managed to get to the bottom before seeing him starting to run down from the top.
Guests were staring but who cared? The party was wild and many just giggled thinking it was a big game.
It wasn’t a game though, truly you believed now he was going to kill you and Lloyd if you didn’t get out now. You had no idea where that auction room was hidden. You could grab him and bolt. These seconds were precious, and you just needed to get out onto the street.
You got to the bar and as you ran forward, you saw the fire alarm off the side. You slammed a fist down hard and bolted for the exit. Sprinklers went off wild, the rain made the party wet and all the main lights activate blinding half of the club. The other guests became frantic hearing the chance of a fire happening. Everyone was starting to rush out of the club with you. You swore and hoped that Lloyd was going to be able to get out safely too.
There was no way you’d be able to go home tonight. You were a dead woman walking with the content of your phone and the murder you witnessed. You tried to find an uber driving past but the fear that August was behind you made you keep moving.
You kept running even as you got outside in the cold air. The sound of car horns and lights of the streets were chaotically plaguing your mind. You didn’t have a clue where you were running. You just kept going. There were roads totally dead and quiet, you ran across without pressing any walking buzzers. You needed to find safety. Your feet raced down pavement paths until they hit the soft dewy grass of the park. The parkour park was near the train lines, you could hear the rattling wheels and noisy horn of a passenger train go through, leaving it impossible to tell if someone was following you… But you heard could him, you swore you could hear his catching breath and hear those leather shoes sprinting behind you.
You squealed in the dark as your ran past an empty children’s playground. He was big and he was fast. You felt his hand in the air trying to grab you and successfully you dodged him. You rushed down a street of abandoned shops and tripped over a groove in the ground that you missed in the ground.
And that’s how this all started don’t you see? Don’t you remember?...
A rush of air sucked out from your lungs as your hands and knees collided with the gravel pavement. Your stupid kitten heel snapped and your handbag had flown a couple metres in front of you.
Your heart thudded against your ribs as you poorly attempted to catch your anxious breath.
“Dumb. Very stupid. I perceived you to be smarter than this…” his voice dripped into your burning hot ears.
He was behind you, you knew that…with his hands in his suit pockets. His expensive leather shoes crunched on the rocky path the closer he neared you.
You hissed when the chilly night air whistled against your cut up palms. Blood rose up from your skin, shining in the light of the city lamp. You flinched as his two fingers traced along your spine and pressed harshly down on the back of your neck.
With watery eyes, you watched him walk pass and collect your handbag. His lithe fingers dove inside and pulled out the phone. His lips pursed as he let it fall from his hand before crushing it under his foot.
The salty tears raced down your cheeks, gliding into your trembling mouth.
If only you could’ve screamed for help. If only there was someone in the park to see what had unfolded.
A hiccup escaped you and he softly cooed, “It’s alright now, I think it’s about time you received an education, my darling.”
You shook your head and felt the rise of bile in your throat.
“Please,” you begged with a rasp voice, “I won’t tell anyone. Let me go. I swear I won’t go to the police, just let me go!”
He tutted his tongue and wagged his finger. He crouched down, his soft hand combed into your sweat soaked hair and tugged your head up. Your eyes met his icy gaze.
Hopelessness filled you. Begging had fallen on deaf ears.
“That’s right, you won’t tell anyone…but I’m not finished with you yet.”
As a gasp lifted from your lips he chuckled, “You’re precious if you think I’m letting you go after seeing that.”
His cold palm grabbed the sides of your throat and began to choke you. As the oxygen was restricted, your little hands clawed desperately at his callous hand. Your feet flailed against the gravel. Tears raced down your face. It was impossible to scream out without any air to cry with. With every passing second, a dizzy blanket was clouding your mind and filling your eyes with black spots. His glare made your knees buckle. Exhaustion from fighting was taking over, your nails left his hands, your eyes were finding it difficult to stay open. Eventually your lashes shut, and you let your mind drown in the airless space of time....
Unknown...Unknown...August 2024, Brisbane.
You thought he had killed you. You genuinely believed as the blood pulverised your skull, he had choked you to death.
You felt cold and hungry…the smell of hot Chinese food woke you up.
You curled up in a tight ball, hugging your naked body. Your couldn’t see anything. Your face had been blind folded. Your mouth was chewing on something long, some type of rubbery gag. And around your neck you felt a tight squeeze and the bite of a chain…a collar? Your fingers tried to pull them off but they were tied around your head and you felt the cold shape of padlock..
The carpet scuffed.
Someone was in the room, getting up from a chair. You heard a masculine breath and you trembled covering your chest and cupping your last as your curled back up in a ball.
You were laying on a soft blanket and mattress.
You whined as a warm human finger raced down your arm and the hand splayed out over your skin.
“Good morning, pet…I’m glad I was here to see you wake up,” you heard August moan.
You felt his fuzzy moustache tough the corner of your gaged lips.
You flinched and rubbed your face into the pillows above you.
The chain moved and taunted you backwards until you sat up so you could breathe.
His hand touched your inner thigh, you felt the bed tilt to his weight.
“I bet you’re hungry, I could hear your tummy growl for quite some time before you woke up.”
You felt his fingers unlock the gag and pull it down your chin.
You gasped and enjoyed the ability to breathe properly again. You were still stuck in total darkness however.
You heard a fork clinking with a bowl. You could hear August blow on the hot food and were told to open up.
Your lips parted and your tongue was touched by the greasy goodness of Chinese honey chicken.
You chewed and tore off the meat from his fork.
“Another,” he said as he fed you some more.
Your hands reached out to hold the fork yourself before you heard him casual say, “Keep those paws down, I haven’t given you permission to use them.”
Your might’ve been blindfolded but you knew he was looking at your body. You lifted your knees up to your chin and tapped your arms around your legs.
A cold bottle of water was pushed to your lips and your mouth greedily suckled it down. You knew it could be laces with drugs but your mouth was dry and you knew you were dehydrated.
You gaspingly asked as the bottle was pulled away, “Are you going to kill me?”
You didn’t want to die but it wasnt your choice. You knew this process would be quicker and easier if you allowed death to come…you would rather die than have to succumb to rape.
“No puppy…not today.”
You didn’t feel relief. Actually you felt your chest shake as you tried to hold back your crying.
Your heard him out the fork down and felt him come onto the bed. He pulled you into his arms and let you sob. He rubbed your back and hushed you gently.
It took everything in you to not fight him…you sagged into his touch and let him hold and rock you until you composed your tears.
You should fight him…if he’s going to kill you…go out with a fight.
“Would you like some more food?” He asked and you meekly nodded, “Yes please.”
He tutted and softly scolded, “That’s not how we ask now is it?”
You couldn’t see him but your fist flew up and caught him in his shoulder, “If you th-think I’m going to call you ‘daddy’…you’re fucking nuts!”
And you truly readied yourself for the beating of a lifetime…rather…his fingers moved up and unlocked your blindfold, pulling it off your head.
You winced as the bright light of day pelted your eyes…
He was sitting on the bed. A long button up shirt with rolled up sleeves and dress pants still wearing his leather shoes. His fingers pinched your chin.
“Still want to be a bad girl?”
You realised he expected an answer. And bravely your jerked your chin away.
“You can rape me, cut me, kill me...I’m not calling you fucking ‘daddy’!” You slapped his hand away and crawled to the other side of the bed feebly. You shrieked as he slapped your naked ass hard and laughed.
“That’s alright… I’ll talk to you again in a few more hours.”
He pushed you down and slapped your hands. He put the blind fold and the gag back on. He took the cup and Chinese food away….he left you…vulnerable and nude on the bed. Alone with your thoughts for the next few hours.
Unknown...Unknown...August 2024, Brisbane
He left you blind folded for hours right? Or was it just thirty minutes? You couldn’t tell…blind folded and gagged. You could move your arms and blindly crawl around the bed but the chain would grow taunt if you tried to climb off the mattress. You considered hanging yourself…would it have been easier to just let him find your corpse then wait to be raped?
You rolled around and felt around the covers. You were helpless and scared. For all you knew he could’ve been watching you quietly.
Your crying was muffled with the gag between your teeth. Drool dropped down your chin and dribbled to your chest. You kept wiping it up feeling revolted with yourself.
You tugged and pulled the chain, yet no freedom was granted in your attempts. You grew tired, the panic in your chest exhausted you.
Hesitantly you pulled the duvet back and wiggled yourself in between the massive pillows, you fell asleep…and it was daunting.
It didn’t help that you couldn’t tell when you drifted off to sleep and the first thing you saw was dad. He was coming home from work and you were in the lounge room flicking through the tv channels. When you saw him come through the door your were scared it was August, but seeing your dad made your heart burst with joy. Relief and peace clouded your mind.
“it was all a bad dream!” You said as you got off the couch and raced to hug your father. He was never much of a hugger, that was okay…
His hand pat your back and you sobbed, “It was so awful dad! I thought you had died, everyone said you were dead but I knew there was no way. Thank god it was just a bad drea-”
He was skinny …you hugged him tight …why did he feel so hard and sharp around his body?
“Dad, I missed you,” you licked your lips, “come on I’ll make you something to eat, why are you so thin?” You moved your head back and screamed. His work shirt was stained in blood and his skin and muscle were rotting off his body. His cheeks were hallow and the tip of his nose was gone. His eyes totally white. A slice settle on his face. He opened his mouth slowly to speak and a rotting tongue rolled out over his chin.
You kept screaming and saying “No!” Over and over again. You moved backwards and fell over on a bowl of porridge. His body fell forward on top of yours.
You couldn’t breathe from the fear. The dream went dark in shadows and it clicked that perhaps you’d woken up. But you weren’t entirely sure. You kicked your legs and curled up in a ball. You wailed and hiccupped. The gag in your mouth brought your mind back to where you were. Where you’d been trapped. You hit the mattress over and over in frustration and anger.
“Lmph ma gaoh!” let me go, you howled.
Your knees trembled and you felt nauseas. You shook your head, trying to fight the vomit that could be rising to your chest. You knew if you vomited it would go everywhere and some might stay inside your mouth or throat or up into your nose.
You whimpered, “Peaff!” Please!
Your body tightened…you felt your bowels grow sore and your bladder tight.
Dread filled your mind with the harsh reality that if you don’t get off the bed you were going to be sitting in your own fluids. It cracked your mind….it broke your own heart…you started to scream knowing what your kidnapper wanted to hear..
“Daffy! Peaf half mah!” Daddy please help me, you bawled over and over while your legs crossed tightly and you tried to hold in your bowels. Your toes curled and your acrylic nails dug deep into the skin of your palm. You scolded yourself for letting at service woman Drew to convince getting your nails done.
It was agony, holding in for so long. Your hands cupped yourself in hopes to stop any form of self leaking.
But after the fifth or sixth begging sob…you felt his presence return. It was like he never left, you didn’t hear his feet walk over to you, you only felt his hands…he unlocked you from the chain and guided you to the guest toilet. He took off your gag and your mouth slackened. The drool that hit your feet and floor with a splat made your shoulders curl in humiliating embarrassment.
You were sat on the toilet seat. You knew he stood waiting. It made you feel worthless and disrespected, the lack of privacy as he watched you push your bladder and bowels.
And that wasnt even the worst of it.
Reaching for toilet paper to the side of you, your hands were slapped away. You heard the roll move and a quick tear. You held out your hand to take it but his hand touched your thick and you twisted away, choking on a sob….the sick fucker wouldn’t let you wipe your own body... As he wiped the piss, you grabbed his wrist and tried to tug him away from your intimates.
“I’m not a baby,” you croaked quietly. You heard him hum, “I can do it myself”
“I know you’re not a baby…I just want to remind you this body belongs to me,” he murmured as he flushed the toilet paper away and you heard his hands wash under the running water of the sink.
Your knees bounced with anxious impatience. What was he planning to do to you?
He got you to your feet and guided you back. When the tiles became carpet you guessed you were being put back onto the bed.
He locked the chain back to the collar and whispered into your temple, “Just a moment.” You felt him move away and heard him drag something heavy from under the bed. Your stomach dropped and thought the worst.
He’s grabbing power tools…he’s going to chop and stab and beat me up and then dice me up into tiny pieces, you but your lips and let your tears flow.
“Wh-what’ are you going to do to m-me?” You dared to ask the maniac millionaire.
You flinched at his echoing chuckle, “Just tie you up for now, but let’s see where that takes us? You were talking in your sleep, did you know you do that?”
Your shoulders shook and you curled. You moved back to the head of the bad and clenched the fabric tightly. You felt him dropping things on the bed. His torture tools….
“Please don’t do this,” you tried to beg, “I haven’t done anything wrong. I just want to go h-home please.”
You hated the weakness in your voice. A part of you was angry and demanding you to claw his eyes out and fight to the death. You just weren’t sure what was the right thing to do anymore. What was the least painful.
Warm fingers brushed along your shoulder, and you gasped a little too loudly, he laughed.
“Easy now, I’m just taking off the blindfold, or would you prefer I leave it on?”
Your eyes watered under the fabric, your voice broke out into a whimper, "Off please..."
HELPLINES:
If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .
Chapter Summary: August decides to test you with a taste of bondage which leads to a violent fit and a deadly confession...
Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Non-Con, Description of Suicide & Self Harm, Trauma Dumping, Bondage, Daddy Kink, Oral Sex M!receiving, Fingering F! receiving, Child abuse, physical abuse, manipulation, subspace.
Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader
Word Count: 8.3k
Author Notes:
★This chapter is based off of the real life events of my father's issues with women and his eventual death. He did toxic things but at the end of the day I still love him dearly and would sacrifice so much to have him back. He was my first best friend in this world. Please be kind. He is the reason I managed to write this story in the first place as a form of narration therapy
★Okay so I might be publishing this chapter earlier than I usually would because I'm doing a lot of packing and searching for a sharehouse or live in because I cannot stand my current housemate. I also am not sure if my rostered shifts will be taking on a new schedule. So please take this early chapter and be patient until I can post the following in 2-3weeks maybe... I'm not too sure honestly. Ciao Bella 😘
Inspiring Song: "Brutal" by Olivia Rodriguez
03:00pm Sunday 18th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane
When the light hit your eyes you grunted and rubbed them with your fingers until they could handle the new bright light around you with the blindfold off.
You shivered staring up at him. Your eyes were still moist.
He had not changed his clothes. He was smiling softly down at you. He held something against your skin. Trailing the soft material along the goosebumps. Looking down at his mysteriously soft item you shrieked.
“No! No not the rope please stop! Not the rope!” You scooted away from him to the top corner of the bed, “Anything, tape, chain, ziptie but not the rope.”
His hand grabbed your ankle and dragged you viciously back to him. His hand pressed down hard on your chest and trapped you on the mattress.
You started screaming and hitting him. Punching his arms and kicking your legs. He slapped the rope beside your head and laid on top of you until you struggled to breathe and fight. His weight hurt so much, pressing on you arms and hips.
He shoved his forehead on top of yours. His nose nudged your cheek as you wept hard and blinked with those wet lashes.
“Please, don’t,” you whimpered, breaking back into another sob.
He exhaled and pressed his lips to your ear. His tongue was wet and breath hot. It felt ticklish and you had to fight the giggle in your throat. It came out in a horrid choking sensation. Tears peaked and fell down your face, wetting his.
“….the rope is the gentlest on the skin….” He purred heavily, “Why are you so frightened of it, huh?”
“Be-because,” you blubbered, “because my da-ad he-he-he….with rope.”
He sat up off you, letting you breathe and suck a healthy breath of air. You were frozen, laying down, too petrified to move.
August grabbed the rope again and twisted the tip with his fingers, “Is it because he hung himself?”
Your eyes widened. It was like a switch or spark or strike. Something lit the bubbling fuel of rage that had been sitting and mellowing deep in your belly.
'How dare he...'
You flung yourself forward and slapped him the hardest your body strength could manage. A loud ring of the skin bounced on the walls of his large empty home. His eyes were wide and his smile grew wider.
'How dare he!'
You felt the tsunami of anger and fury explode out of you. Your nails swiped him. You caught the skin of his neck and the back of his hand as you tried to claw out his eyes screaming from the bottom of your belly.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Don’t say that! Don't you ever fucking say that again! You take it back! Fuck you! Fuck you!”
You tried to kill him. You pounced at him from the bed and gagged loudly as the collar and chain snagged your throat. You must’ve looked like a feral animal. Your teeth were nashing and your hands curled like claws at him as you screamed and yelled incoherently.
He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head in the air. You were no match for his strength. Your legs couldn't stretch out and try to kick him either. Your 'claws' were unable to scratch at any of him. His face wasn't smiling smugly. Instead he looked at you with confusion, perhaps pity?
You choked as your body seized, "Fu-ck you Aug-" you took in a shattering breath that burned your lungs, "Fuck you August! You piece of fucking shit!"
A part of you wanted to hear him take it back, to prove nothing very happened. Deep inside you yearned for no one to ever speak of those events because you could just pretend deep inside that it never ever happened. The shame and anger wouldn’t exist, the loss wouldn’t be as bad and permanent. You wanted to kill August for even mentioning it. He wasn’t allowed to talk about it, 'he has no right'…how did he even know? God you hated how much he probably knew about you.
'How much stalking did he do?'
He waited for you to stop screaming and waited until your sobbing had died down again. Your head pounded loudly in your ears as you let it fall and hang. Your tears dripped quietly on the bed covers.
August very slowly released your wrists. You lowered them and held them to your chest. They were sore.
You half expected August to slap you. But when you dared to look back up at him, towering above you still, he was untangling the folded rope. You gulped.
He pressed a knee onto the mattress and laid a hand on your naked chest. He barely needed to use much force, shoving you onto your back. You whimpered. Too scared to try and fight back again.
“O' my sweet, darling girl, Shhh” he cooed, his knuckles brushed the sweat beading on your face “How life has dealt you a poor hand…” he soft rolled you to lay on your front.
You felt your body relax. He rubbed your spine with the flat of his hand smoothly. You shut your eyes and hiccupped loudly.
You were tired and especially depressed. You didn't want to go to sleep but you also wanted to wake up from whatever nightmare this was. You sincerely hoped he would just kill you at that point. Why did he have to torture you like this?
August grabbed your two wrists and tugged them behind your back, sending you into a shock again feeling the line of material on your skin.
“Please no rope!”
You couldn't pull your hands back but twisted and turned pulling and making it difficult for him to tie any safe knit around your hands. He clicked his tongue and smacked your hip.
“Look at me,” he said and waited until your eyes glanced at him, flooded in glassy tears, “You’re safe, I won’t hurt you with the rope. I promise.”
“Y-your promises mean fuck all!” You hissed with wobbling lips, “You sick fuck!”
You heard him drag out a long. His thumbs rubbed the inside of your wrists.
“And I promise you’ll regret that comment, but I digress…I’m here to help you.”
“Help me?...Help me!?”
You screamed as he began to wrap the cord around your wrists again, “Stop! Get off me! No! Please!” You sobbed hard and tried to kick him but it was met with a sharp slap to your backside, “Please! I’m begging you. For the love of God, stop! No rope!” He tightened the tie around your wrists and push you totally onto your belly.
His hands wrapped your ankles tightly and started to push them up your wrists. Your face turned to the side and you squeezed your eyes shut attempting at the last second of anything that could get him to stop.
You swallowed any sense of pride you had left.
“Daddy….” You panted, “Please Daddy stop it. Please stop tying. Daddy please.”
His fingers paused and he left go of your ankles. It was a hiccup of relief that left your mouth.
“Good girl,” his hand said subbing his thumb over the back of your neck, “You’re learning.”
The air in your lungs was disappearing, you hated yourself for submitting to him like this. You tightened your lips and tensed as his breath fanned your face.
“Open your eyes,” he demanded, you obeyed.
“Look at me,” he said, you obeyed.
He had a softened expression on such a hard face. He had this Dr. Jeckle and Hyde side about him.
He would look so sweet and kind and then the next turn into this hardened angry man.
He scared you.
He pushed you to roll back in your back. Your tied arms were crushed underneath you. You were helpless and scared.
He unlocked the chain from the collar.
“Deep breath in,” he asked and laid a hand on your belly. You obeyed.
“And out.”
A breath came out sounding like a gasp and yawn and moan. You were exhausted.
“Now, you are going to not fight me, not squirm. I have kindly let you through your tantrum, now you’re going to be a good girl and lay across my lap. I want you to talk to me and if you stop talking, I’m going to spank you. Do you understand?”
You pouted, “No.”
“No?”
“I don’t want you to hit me,” you whined.
He chuckled and ran his thumb gently cross your cheek, “Good, because I want you to talk.”
“About what?” you sniffled loudly.
“How did you find out. About him…your father.”
Your eyes widened and you shook you head dismissively, “No, I don’t want to talk about that.”
“You will,” August recounted.
“I won’t…you c-can’t make me!” you snapped.
Within seconds he sat on the bed and hauled your body over his lap, delivering three hard and loud spanks. As you wailed he rubbed the rising welts on your backside. The heat of your blood screamed to the top of your skin.
“You said that with a little too much confidence,” August muttered, squeezing the stinging flesh, “Let’s try that again, yes?”
“You knew he…” you choked, unable to share the gruesome truth yourself, “did that with the rope. That’s how. That's all there is to say.”
August’s hand left another scorching mark across your arse cheek. You tried to squirm, you tried to push away but his other arm tightly hugged your middle.
“Say it. How he did it,” August commanded.
You spat back with a screech in you tongue, “You already know!!!”
He spanked you again before yelling, “Say it!”
“He fucking killed himself!” You roared, “Is that what you want to hear, you arsehole!? He took a piece of rope, tied it to the ceiling fan and fucking hung himself!!!”
You swore the whole room shook along with your anguished voice.
“And why did he do it?” The billionaire asked the billionaire question.
You hissed, “Go to fucking hell August!” Another stinging wack of his palm.
You could hear the venom drop from his tongue as he grabbed the back of your neck and pinchingly pulled.
“Why did he do it!?”
“Because he fucking hated me!" You squealed in defeat, "He hated me! He couldn’t stand to look at me! I was his mistake!”
Your throat was sore and scratched. He let go of your neck.
After a few embarrassing moments of silence you could hear his voice softenly ask, “And how are you his mistake?”
“Stop!”
He grabbed the back of your head and tugged it up, he grunted into the shell of your ear, “How? Tell me or I’ll belt your arse so raw it’ll bruise and you won't sit for a fucking week!”
When you put up more silence, you were pushed forward and could hear the clinking of his belt coming undone.
“Teen pregnancy,” you hastily blurted, wincing, hoping he wouldnt just use his belt already, “He didn’t know my mum was underage. When she had me, she left us, she left me with him. He took custody. He couldn’t find anyone to replace my mum, he hated me for it- I know he did. He got girlfriends and they didn’t last long…they didn’t want a kid so soon in their lives, so his heart was broken more than once.”
You took a gulp. Your hands behind your pack trembled. His fingers rubbed your inner thigh and pinched your backside.
“Is that the only reason he hated you?” August asked softly.
“No,” shaking your head you shuddered, “it’s not.”
“Why else?”
It hurt, god it hurt to say it…to be forced to confess the honest agony.
“Because I wasn’t a boy and even as a girl I wasn’t pretty. He never said I looked beautiful or pretty when I asked, he just looked away and shrugged...why was I so ugly?” You complained, “Why do I have to look so much like the worst parts of my parents? It’s not fair!” Your nose sniffled as your eyes began to sting hot.
Your kidnappers soft voice then asked, “What else wasn’t fair?”
“H-how he loved his wife more than me. He picked her up one day and said I needed to start calling her my mum and I couldn’t, she was only eleven years older than me, it was weird. I didn’t understand why he chose someone who was only twenty years old at the time, and why he didn’t believe me when I told him how she hurt me when he was at work….he only hit her once he walked in on her choking me…when I started to bleed from the cut on my face. She moved out and started cheating on him. God, I hate how he still loved her.”
“He saw her hurt you like that…and he still loved her? How did you know she was cheating on him?”
His fingers started to do wickedly things. The tips tickled at your labia and dip down to dance along your clit. You hissed and tightened your thighs around his hand, but it didn’t stop him rubbing and molesting you.
You talked, not wanting another spanking and know full well there was nothing to stop him trying to pleasure your cunt.
“Her boyfriends would come around asking to see her. They’d try to come in and touch me too but I’d threaten to call the police and they’d be flying out the door.”
August sighed happily as he felt your heart beat throb against your pussy. He condescendingly asked, “Your dad knew this was happening?”
You whimpered and shook your head, your cheek rubbed the duvet. Your shut your eyes and grunted as a finger prodded your hole. You knew this was sick.
“Yes! And then he tried to slit his wrists to guilt his bitch wife to come back but I called the ambulance in time and got the blood…the bleeding to…to stop….”
“That explains the scars. But that's not what killed him.”
You nodded, he was right.
“He…” you paused as August slid two fingers into your pussy and slowly pushed then in and out, your breath hitched. It was wrong what he was doing to you. And it was wrong you softly moaned.
“Dad got out of the hospital after forty eight hours.”
Your hands clenched in fists, August could see that, you grunted, “They let him fucking loose! I was so angry at him. I told him he could kill himself only after I finished highschool.”
You remembered that look on your dads face as he pouted in his recliner refusing to look you in the eye. What did you expect after you spent hours screaming at him? You were only seventeen. You had to go to school knowing your dad was in hospital and there was a chance he could die….all that blood….red was your least favourite colour for a long while. You didn’t say anything to teachers, you didn’t need to deal with the police asking questions and making things worse with child protection.
Your sighed and felt August’s fingers stop fucking you gently. They paused and pulled away. Your breath hitched as your body felt empty of his hot digits. He drew soft lines on your ass with your wetness.
You heard him warn,“….you know what happens when you grow silent or should I remind you.”
You said nothing and bared the pain of the spank. A hissed caught through your lips but you whispered.
August didn’t catch it at first and made you repeat. You felt flushed. You couldn’t believe you were actually asking him.
You weren’t crying anymore, you didn’t want to, you were angry and sad.
“August…if I call you Daddy…will you let me sit up and…hug me?”
The sound of his inhaled was like a contemplation, “I’m not sure…that’s a special privilege…why don’t you try and ask nicely?”
You opened your eyes and looked over your shoulder at him and whimpered, “Pl-please hug me Daddy.”
He slid a hand beneath your chest and held your hip as he pulled you up and turned you around. He crossed his legs on the bed and swaddled you in his arms. Your hands were still behind your back, your hot bottom stuck onto his trousers.
“C’mere sweetheart,” his voice broke you, you started to whimper and dug your face into his shoulder and cried into his warm cotton shirt.
“Daddy’s got you, all safe now.” He said as he rocked you and let you compose yourself. You pressed your cheek to his collarbone and shut your eyes.
How could a cruel man like him become soft?...
He asked and held your cheek as he rocked very slowly, “And what happened after you gave him permission to end his own life?”
'It wasn't permission, it was a last chance to plea...'
“He did as promised…he waited…and waited…and then when he said he was going to end his marriage I was actually happy for him.” Your voice trembled, “I said he was smart and told him that he…he…wait…no…that’s not right...I-”
You swallowed and squeezed your eyes opened as horror and realisation poured from your puffy mouth, “I said ‘It's about time…’ and the-then he gave me all of his cameras. And left. A few hours he came back, he told me he went to see his wife and I knew he meant he went to go sleep with her….I got so angry.”
You sighed, “I threw something at him?…a cup? A plate? It doesn’t matter. I didn’t even feel guilty for doing it…I was happy I made him sad…for the first time I fed off the glee that he felt shitty…I said he was a ‘fucking loser and a dumb ass.’ I said he shouldn’t have ever had me, should never gotten married and if he was going to keep letting himself get fucked over by his wife he should….”
You cut yourself off. You whimpered and buried your nose into August’s armpit.
Why did he have to smell so good? Why didn’t this man have terrible body odour?
You heard him tut and pulled your shoulder away from him. He cupped your jaw and ran a thumb over your bottom lip.
“What did you say?…Y/N?”
“I said…” you gasped and cried, “he should go fuck himself and stop the pity party because it was me that should be sad and suicidal, not him.”
With another suck if air you growled and glared into August’s eyes, “But…God…deep down I said in my mind that he should kill himself and make it easier for me to hate him. It’s all my fault.” Your eyes looked up to the ceiling while your face contorted.
August leg go of your face and brushed his fingers through your hair as he said soothingly, “Your thoughts didn’t kill him.”
Your naked body pressed into him. You couldn’t hold the balance for to long and leaned against him. Your nose touched his and you frustratedlg groaned, “B-but I was so mean to him…I threw a plate at him. I called him names. I bullied him and argued…I…I killed him. I know it was me.”
August kissed your cheek and slid you down back to his chest to hug you. He turned your hips out and patted your bottom softly.
You didn’t need prompting anymore from him.
“And normally every night I’d always ask him at dinner how his day was, I’d tell him I’d loved him and that I was going to bed and would see him in the morning before he’d go to work. He would get up at four am and leave at five am. He drove a truck around town, delivering to the Asian grocery stores and bars, he was their favourite delivery driver…they’d give him presents and free food all the time.”
“Yea?” August cooed, “What else? Did you wish him a goodnight?”
You mewled, “No, I didn’t. I-I was so m-mad. I told him I hated him and I said he wasn’t allowed in my room. I slammed the door so-so hard…he didn’t go to work and I felt like he was grumpy at me, his door was shut…When it was six am I made him some breakfast and I put it outside his door because he didn’t answer my knocking…”
You took a pause and swallowed to stop yourself crying, you forced a pitiful laugh from your mouth, “I was such a cunt…I remember saying something stupid like ‘’fine be a prick.” I started to clean my room and do the laundry and by nine am he still hadn’t grabbed the porridge. I got…a little frustrated -but I felt sorry for throwing the cup or plate and I knew he was upset. I went in to go wake him up or to apologise…”
You grew totally silent and August waited patiently.
You whispered into his neck, “His feet…I-I saw his feet first and you know what’s sick?” you smiled weakly.
August smiled and whispered back, “What’s sick?”
“I laughed and asked dad, ‘’how did you figure out how to float like that?” And I remember the stab of shock that jolted in me the moment it clicked…” you licked your bottom lip and shrugged, “his forehead was swollen and his eyes not fully shut. Lips a little blue… It was awful. I can’t forget that look.” You sighed and looked August in the eye, “He….he looked like he was made of wax…the moment I knew what he had done I grabbed his legs. I tried to pull him down. And when I couldn’t figure out how to get the rope off the fan I tried to use his phone to call help. His phone was flat. I tried to run to my room and grab mine but I tripped over the bowl of porridge and hit the ground hard.”
You remembered the loud this and the slippery wetness on your side. Your face cringed and you pulled your knees up in August’s lap a little more. He continued to pat your backside.
“I was screaming. I remember the pain in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I had to crawl to my phone because it was too painful to walk. I barely remember the woman on the phone. But she tried to ask me to check his pulse and I didn’t want to go back into the room.”
You gasped, “God I didn’t but I did….I had to. And I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t hear his belly move or his heart beat. I remember standing for a very long time, just holding his legs trying to get him to stand up on my shoulders or, to move. He was freezing…he…I don’t know how long….but…the um…the officers came in, they…I don’t know how they got in…maybe they picked the lock. They got him down and took him out. I got mad they didn’t let me come ….one officer told me it wasn’t an ambulance so I couldn’t come…I don’t think I was able to accept that he died, not until they wrung me up a week later to tell me he was ready to be released and have a funeral set up. A part of me thought he would wake up like a miracle…like he could just do some supernatural shit…like he would come home that evening or the next morning and ask me to make him porridge. And he’d smile and say he just felt sad or something and-and that he would buy me some noodles or some sponge cakes when he went to work tomorrow...”
You angrily whined, “But he didn’t…fucking arsehole. He left me…he…died…he…hated me and chose….the easy way out…”
August rubbed your back and whispered, “Cry.”
“What?” you shuddered not understanding what he was saying.
“You’re allowed to cry. You want to cry….so cry,” he said.
Your blinked once, twice and then the damn broke entirely. You wept into his shoulder and just started to blabber, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Pl-please don’t spank me Daddy.”
He sympathetically crooned, “O' my sweet girl, no more, you don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to, daddy has heard enough.”
After some time of more sobbing and rocking in his arms you rubbed your eyes and yawned.
“I’m so tired,” you moaned and smiled sadly at the feeling of his warm chest vibrate with a chuckle.
“I bet you are poppet, lay back” he pulled away and lifted the bed covers. He lifted you up and slid your legs inside beneath the layers. “You can have a nap,” he whispered sweetly as his fingers tugged at the knot of your bound wrists. When the came undone you curled them Infront of you and rolled onto your side facing him. He locked the chain to your collar and smiled at you. You smiled back.
Jesus…your brain felt fuzzy about that…he forced you to talk about your father and how it was your fault, he humilated you worse than when you cummed in the recliner in your apartment…and you….wanted to fucking thank the man….'what the actual fuck?'
Something made you want to accept this condesending treatment as long as he held you and cradled you and let you cry without a fear of judgement.
To this day you’ll never understand what possessed you to do it… but you could never take it back. As he started to shift away and move off the bed, your hand shot out and wrapped itself around his wrist.
“N-no, don’t leave me, please,” you begged, your eyes soaked the pillow while your wet lips trembled.
He looked down at your hand and softly sighed, he leant down to your head and kissed your temple, “I’m right here, I’m not going far, I’m going to grab you some painkillers because I know you’re going to have a headache soon.”
“N-no!” you whined.
His eyes widened before his voice hardened in a commanding grunt, “Y/N…let go of me…be a good girl…”
You didn’t….you couldn’t. Your hand squeezed tighter. He touched it with the rope and noticed how you flinched off him in seconds like the rope had magically burnt your hand.
He nodded and pursed his lips, “I promise I’ll be back in five minutes.”
He made true to the promise…he returned in four minutes and forty seconds…how did you know? Because you desperately counted ever single one until your abuser returned.
A cup in his hand and a pill in his palm. You didn’t have the guts to ask if it was a pair killer or the same drug that forced you unconcious when he first fucked you.
“Open up those pretty little lips.”
Your mouth parted, he popped the pill in and held the edge of the cup to your thirsty chapped lips, “Drink.”
You guzzled the water down and let out a relieved gasp as he set it aside on the table. “Good girl.”
As he turned, you realised he was going to the door. Leaving… “W-wait!” you called and weakly sat up.
He paused at the door. His fingers traced the metal handle, “Yes?”
“D-don’t leave me…” your sucked in a deep and demeaning breath as you pleaded to him, “D-daddy please don’t go.”
You peeled the blankets back and struggled to crawl out towards him. His blue eyes blinked. He reached up and scratches his chin, observing your pathetic state. He tilted his head.
“What do you want?”
“I…I…” You struggled to answer, your bottom lip buried beneath you teeth, you sucked hard and whispered, “I want you to stay…I want…you to cuddle me again…please.”
A smirk spread in the corner of his mouth, “And what will I get in return?”
It was wounding…the concept you had to earn his affections now…where was the free treatment from that day you first met him?
You didn’t even know what you could offer him.
“I don’t have anything…I…I have barely any money...I don't know what you've done with my purse.”
He chuckled cruelly, “You have a commodity…your body. You have a mouth…”
Your eyes widened. It clicked what he was hinting at. You were unsure if you really want to just for a hug…but after such a long couple days and confusion in your life, you would offer anything for a moment of peace.
“I’ll suck your cock…” your mouth quivered, “Please just hold me…I’m tired and I’m scared. Please!”
He looked you up and down one last time before sighing and nodding. Your hands reached out like a sad needy puppy. His fingers cupped them and guided you back to your original spot.
He moved the chain away from you both. You kneeled and shut your eyes waiting for him to just use your mouth….
“Y/N…scoot over. You can do it in the morning.”
Relief washed over your head like a cold ice bucket.
He pushed your body away as he took off his shoes and socks. He slipped beside you and dragged you to his side.
He playfully scolded you, “I spoil you rotten.” His finger tapped your nose. He kissed your forehead and watched you happily sigh.
Your eyes started to grow droopy. You knew it was the unknown drug he used on you weeks ago. You grew tired too quickly for it not to be.
As your body felt motionless and gooey you let your head roll onto his shoulder. Your mouth uncontrollably starting to drool onto him. He was smiling and stroking your head almost lovingly.
You weren’t sure if he was going to use you while you fell into your drugged sleep but you were happy to have this small peace. Even if he killed you…you were going to die at peace.
“Goodnight,” you heard and fell into the mindless nothingness.
08:02am Monday 19th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane
You had absolutely zero knowledge of what day it was, how long you had been with August, or where he had kept your clothes…when you woke up though, your eyes watched the ticking of his expensive looking watch. It’s handles moving slow at a time of eight am.
Your head slowly rose. Your chain reflected from the morning sunlight burning from the windows.
You held down the yawn building in your throat and glanced over your shoulder.
August was out cold.
His face was totally relaxed. His bushy eye brows however left a certain hardness to his face. His lips were slightly parted and a soft snore left through them.
He was handsome and it hurt you knowing that beautiful men could be as evil and abusive as ugly men. A beautiful man was probably more ugly because they could hide their evil better.
You gulped and tried to move carefully. You had no idea what waking up a man like him could do to you…and you remembered sincerely of the promise to suck his cock.
You had never sucked cock before...and it disgusted you to think about...
'Men pee from there, why do people even do blow jobs?...ew.'
But you promised, in exchange for this. A loving cradling in a bed with him. And as wonderful as it had felt for a brief moment, you couldn't help but resent your past promise to him.
The more time you put it off, the better.
As you moved you felt something metal press against your ass. Your fingers slowly and carefully picked at it. Lifting the small object to the light…it reflected light into your eye.
A tiny silver key…
The key….
To your chain….
You didn’t hesitate, you slowly unlocked it, trying to be as quiet as humanly possible. As the pad lock clicked open and the chain grew loose. You settle the chain careful on the pillow and away from his arm.
It was scary, the tension of moving your backside across the bed sheets. Your toes touching the carpet. Trying to move slow enough to move nothing. You pushed up and stood.
He hadn’t woken up not moved a inch. You swallowed and stood away from the bed. You stood confused and naked. You couldn't think about searching for clothes in this bedroom. You didn't know where he had stored your stolen gown. Your feet tiptoed to the open door.
You didn’t know if there was a home phone on a wall somewhere. You wondered where he had your clothes and most importantly your purse with your phone.
You recalled him stepping on your phone in the park and considered that it was probably destroyed and thrown away...August had such a fierce look about him. You shuddered and worried to see it again if he woke up soon with you missing.
You looked at the key on you and…you were desperate.
Shoving the metal in between your teeth, it slip to the back of your mouth and your eyes screamed as it swallowed and scratched the entire way down your throat.
There was no way you wanted him to chain you back to the bed. And something suggested confidently to you that the padlocks on the gag and blindfold were the same as the bed chain.
You found his room. You knew the millionaire would have a closet in his own master bedroom.
It was beside the bathroom. A walk in. Your purse was sitting on the centre island. You gasped and ran to it and dumped the contents. You found your phone and almost sobbed… the screen was shatter and it wasn't turning on.
With all the strength you mustered you kept your mouth closed and your brain calm. Your costume dress was still missing, you didn't have time to waste. You stole one of his shirts. It was hanging in a long collection, organised by shades of white, navy, grey and black.
'Definitely a psychopath. No one is this particular or maybe his housekeeper is. Does he have a housekeeper? Surely? He is rich enough.'
His shirts, trousers and blazers where either folded neatly or hanging in the open spaces after all being beautifully ironed.
You buttoned the shirt up. You couldn’t find his underwear. You found some sweat shorts and tried tightening them around your waist. His shorts that probably cut off at his knees ended at your mid calf.
God he was so fucking huge. It made you remember why he was so intimidating. His height…
You took your purse and even broken phone. Dashing out his closet and room you bolted down the hall and staircase.
You tried your best to remember where everything was, including the exit. You found the kitchen and stole a carving knife from a butcher block set.
If he or anyone wanted to fuck with you, you wanted to make it clear that there was gonna be a blood spill.
You would be okay going to jail for assault if it meant you got out of this shit alive. You just needed to run.
You got to the glass doors that led to the outdoor pool in the gardens and patio it would lead to the back yard or some sort of garage where you might find a security button to open the front gates and sprint to the nearest bus stop. Unlocking every piece you smiled as the glass easily slid open.
You felt the cold morning air hit your face and body. His clothes were light and did barely anything against the wind.
You stood onto the concrete platform and heard something shuffle around the bushes of the garden. For a moment you thought you were crazy hearing a growl…a animal growl…a dog growl…your eyes glanced to your side. Your fingers tightened around the kitchen knife.
You held your breath as you met the sight of a dog, no- no, a big fucking dog. A small bear if you might humour yourself. This dogs bottom was in the air while his head was on the floor, teeth bare and growling.
It’s massive coat was pricked up and defensive.
And when it pounced, you squealed and ran back inside, launching the glads door back closed. You heard the beast yelp as you closed the door on the tip of its nose.
It’s teeth was gnashing and biting as it barked at you through the glass.
You held up your hand to block the door from gliding open. You frantically turned the knob to lock it.
Fuck! August would wake up and find you missing if this wild animal kept barking. You felt like an idiot. Of course August would have at least one guard dog.
The moody guard dog huffed and turned around before bolting back and slamming itself onto the door.
The shock had you falling on your arse.
Or rather...into someone’s arms.
His strong muscle appendages caved around you. His hand grabbed your knife wielding hand harshly, twisting your wrist until you were forced to let it go.
The blade clattered loudly as you screamed and grunted pathetically.
August held you strong and walked backwards until he could sit on the couch with you squirming in his lap.
“Oh look at you, miss escape artist…” a whine caught in your throat as his nose shoved itself against your jaw. His voice heavily rasped, “Planning on trying to run off? O' believe you me…” he patronised, looking at his aggressive dog back at you “That would be a terrible idea…”
He slapped your inner thigh. You jumped and hissed from the sudden pain.
This morning would be one to remember for a while.
“I see you’ve met Kal!” His fingers dug into your sides. You sneered at him and grabbed at his hands, weakly pulling him off.
“You didn’t have a dog last time!” you whined as you squirmed.
He snickered and forced your legs over his hips. His hand snuck down into the stolen shorts and he kisses your neck as he rubbed at your clit.
“He was here last time, I swear but he was in his kennel that day and I wanted you all to myself.”
You sighed as his large fingers played and soothed you to a unpredictable horny mess.
There was no use fighting when he had you so caught up. You really weren’t sure if he would beat you but the memory of the recliner and the spanking in the guest bed were fresh to remind you how he could play with you if you refused or displeased him.
You wanted to get out alive. He caught you out of bed with his stolen clothes, your broken phone and a knife in hand. It wasn’t a good appearance.
He didn’t let you cum. No. He pulled his hand away before you reached the sweet completion.
Your bum felt his bone hard erection and struggled to move away from it.
“Do you know how much trouble you’re in? Answer me Y/N,” he softly pressed.
You shook your head and tried craning your neck back to kiss his prickly cheek.
“No…no I…I just…”
“Just thought you could leave without making good on your promise? You have a cock to suck… are you ready for that?”
You shook your head again and confessed strongly, “No, I don’t know how to do that….I said it because I was scared.”
He laughed again and chewed the bottom of your ear, “Oh? Then this will be exciting.”
He pulled your dazed body off and pressed you onto your knees on the carpet rug. Between his thighs, you swallowed and looked up at him. Smirking with a sadistic tilt to his head, August looked like a fallen angel.
You gagged as you watched him lift the hand that was just fucking you up to his lips. He licked and sucked each digit like they were a delicious treat. His exaggerated moans of pleasure had you rolling your eyes.
After another moment he put his hands back and jerked his chin at you.
“Well? Unzip me. Go on.”
His dogs barking made it hard for you to hear him but with your eyes following his lips and direction of eyesight you knew what he wanted out of you.
He watched with a lazy gaze as your finger tips pinched his zipper and tugged down the opening.
His flaccid dick, unprotected from any underwear greeted your sight.
With warm hands and a wish you had for any chance of forgiveness from him for trying to run out on him; you collected his cock into your palms.
It felt warm and lame for a moment before a great pulse cause you to jump and the member to flinch and twitch. His veins bobbed slightly.
You tried thinking about what girls in porn did…they always did this hugging thing with their breast. Motorboating? Tit surfing? You unbuttoned his stolen shirt in one hand while holding and squeezing his heavy cock in the other.
He was staring as you shed the silky shirt to the floor. You sat at his feet with your breasts bare. You wondered what was going through his head…he wasn’t just a lustful predator….he was a calculating business man.
That led you to ponder on if this was like a business transaction? You asked for his kindness and in exchange you had to debase yourself as his personal unpaid whore…
To make matters worse, you were unsure if catching you trying to escape would lead to some sick punishment like how he caught you in the club.
You were annoyed that if you made it out alive there was no evidence of those deals or the murder of the Melbourne Embezzler.
You were still behind in your plot of revenge and as tempting as it was just to bite his cock off with your teeth, you’d never leave this place alive…not even a chance…
You sat up a little on your knees and shuffled closer. You pulled at his cock some more until it was entirely hard in your palm.
He smirked before he mockingly asked, “Are you going to fucking suck it or am I just waiting here until you turn me off enough to lose interest?”
With widened eyes, you sheepishly stared at the pink thick sausage in your hand and cringed.
Your tongue timidly poked out and you licked at his tip. He sighed, but it was full of impatience. A strange anxiety filled you… overwhelming fear of disappointing him. You knew logically it was dumb. You didn't respect August why did you care what he actually thought of you? You just needed to get out of there alive.
Your tongue and lips spread kisses along his wide shaft before you opened your mouth as wide as you could and attempted to put him in your mouth. You looked crazy. Your teeth trying to stay wide open but your lips peeled back away from them….
August laughed at you, “Are you planning to bite my cock off with those rows of fangs?”
Eyes filled with confusion and self-conciousness fluttered up at him. His thumb rubbed along your cheek and he told you to wrap your teeth up in your lips and to stick out your tongue more.
Now it was truly humiliating…following his instructions and wagging your tongue out like some dog.
Your eyes glanced to the left where the glass doors were now empty of his fluffy beast.
His hand pushed your mouth down a little further. Your cheeks felt full with his girth along and when his head hit the bag if your throat, you loudly wretched and pulled back but found his hand forcing you back down onto him. Your spit flew out messily on his cock. Your eyes watered instantly at the irritating sensation. You felt suffocated and choked in his thick appendage.
It was confronting to have something so big being pushed back into your mouth. You gagged on just two fingers, you had no clue what you must’ve looked like with a cock a third of a way in your mouth.
He did it over and over until you scratched at his hand and he let you pulled back, falling back on your ass and rasping for breath.
You heaved and swiped your mouth and tears. You hoped you wouldn’t have to ever do that again and next time you wanted something from him you’d never promise a blow job.
“If you want to leave today, you have to do something for me…”
You were stupid…you were desperate…you asked “What?”
“Open your mouth.” He commanded.
You winced, afraid he would shove it back into your mouth…you obeyed. You didn’t expect the assault of his thick cum spraying across your face. Some dropped into your mouth as it flew. Most of it stuck in your hair and dribbled down into your eyes.
He chuckled at the sheer horror of shock written over your face covered in his pearly cum.
You were about to wipe it away until August grabbed your wrist brutally and shook his head.
“You belong to me. I own you. You aren’t going to clean this off until you get home. Do I make myself clear?”
A shuddering breath escaped you as you nodded.
'Home?'
He was letting you go…you couldn’t understand why he was so lenient with your freedom. You accused him of rape and yet you lived…he killed a man just for a small crime of embezzlement…
But you were graciously relieved.
You were surprised he let you put on his stolen shirt again. He pinched a nipple but he gave you back your purse and broken phone while he called someone to pick you up. A driver. Jude.
August took you out front of the house once the black vehicle arrived and slipped inside of the car with you. He leant across and buckled you in reminding you that he liked this power dynamic even through the little things. Wiping you clean, buckling your seat, feeding you...you wouldn't call it infantilism the entire way...it felt like the motive was to humiliate, not to take care of you...The entire time was filled with a stretchy and uncomfortable pull of tension.
You didn't face the rearview mirror in case Jude could see all the embarrassing white cum drying on your face and in your hair.
“I…I-” you tried to ask but fell silent and afraid. The cum was drying on your face, a perfect reminder of your place. Beneath him.
He looked at you with interest, “What’s on your mind?”
“I am…confused…why haven’t you just killed me yet? I’m disposable, and I know you already know if I go missing…no one is going to look for me…”
He didn’t take his eyes off you and you couldn’t even meet them. Your knees rose up against your chest.
His finger touched the skin beneath your chin and made you look at him.
“Because…Y/N…I am not someone to throw away my toys so easily. You are a important posession and it would be very stupid of me to waste you."
He leant in and kissed you softly, breathing against your soft lips, "You’ve got a tight cunt and a dead father to thank for that.”
That made you lunge…you slapped his face hard. The sound cracking. Everything was dead silent. Even Jude was holding his breath. You turned your body away and cowered in the door.
“Fuck you…fuck…you.” You sobbed. You didn’t like how he mentioned your dad. It made you think on how he forced such a terrible confession from you about the days that it all went down.
You expected him to hit you, to make you beg for mercy.
Only his cheek flinched as his pale flesh became a mean pink in the shape of your fingers. He sat back and nodded slowly.
He knew that was too far. He smirked..
'that selfish fucker.'
He didn’t harm you like you feared he would.
He brought you home and you half expected him to invade your space, rape you again for your outburst in the car. But no…he took you up the stairs. Unlocked the door and returned your key.
He chuckled at the sight of all your installed locks, "Here I thought Jude was pulling my leg..."
He shook his head and smiled. Before you could run inside and slam the door shut he blocked your path with his hand. He leant his head down and purred. With his other hand he fingered the leather around your throat.
And then he asked, “Mind telling me what you did with the key to the bondage gear?”
Your hand cupped your throat…you still wore the collar…fuck…
You bit your lip and shook your head, “I ugh…swallowed it…” you confessed.
His eyes slowly widened in disbelief. His laughter grew harder, “You are truly a special one my little dear, fret not I’ll have another copy made and we can take the collar off you. Or not…I mean I do love the look on your face as you wear it.”
August pulled you close and hard as he planted his mouth over yours and viciously kissed you before turning around on his toes. He waved a hand at you.
“Until next time sweetness!” he called, "Don't forget to clean your breakfast off your face!"
You sighed and felt your knees buckle. You rushed through your door and locked every deadbolt and chain across.
You rushed to the kitchen and vomited in the sink. Your face felt crusty from his cum. You hissed as some peeled from your skin.
Your eyes watered. You stumbled back to your room and struggled to charge your phone. It refused to turn on. It was fucked.
'I need to talk to someone, I need to make sure Lloyd is okay, please dear god make sure he made it out of the Lions Lounge den. Fuck you August!'
HELPLINES:
If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .
Chapter Summary: Among the rain and misery at the bus stop you meet a stranger named August Walker, and he is 'awfully' concerned...
Chapter Warnings: 18+ Explicit, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Smut, P in V intercourse, No Contraception, Manipulation, Older Man/Younger Woman, Implied Suicide, Suicidal Ideation, Drugging, Loss of Virginity.
Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader (No Description)
Word Count: 10.4k
Author Notes: This story has been published in the past on Tumblr on my old account @milknhonies-old-account since I have created a newer account and I am currently editing the entire story because it doesn't suit my vision as the author. If you'd like to be included in or removed from the Taglist, please comment below
Inspiring Song: ‘Daddy Issues.’ – The Neighbourhood
A rush of air sucked out from your lungs as your hands and knees collided with the gravel pavement. Your stupid kitten heel snapped and your handbag had flown a couple metres in front of you.
Your heart thudded against your ribs as you poorly attempted to catch your anxious breath.
“Dumb. Very stupid. I perceived you to be smarter than this…” his voice dripped into your burning hot ears.
He was behind you, you knew that…with his hands in his suit pockets. His expensive leather shoes crunched on the rocky path the closer he neared you.
You hissed when the chilly night air whistled against your cut up palms. Blood rose up from your skin, shining in the light of the city lamp.
You flinched as his two fingers traced along your spine and pressed harshly down on the back of your neck.
‘Please no!’
With watery eyes, you watched him walk pass and collect your handbag. His lithe fingers dove inside and pulled out the phone. His lips pursed as he let it fall from his hand before crushing it under his foot.
The salty tears raced down your cheeks, gliding into your trembling mouth.
If only you could’ve screamed for help. If only there was someone in the alley way to see what had unfolded.
A hiccup escaped you and he softly cooed, “It’s alright now, I think it’s about time you received an education, my darling.”
You shook your head and felt the rise of bile in your throat.
“Please,” you begged with a raspy voice, “I won’t tell anyone. Let me go. I swear I won’t go to the police, just let me go!”
He tutted his tongue and wagged his finger. He crouched down, his soft hand combed into your sweat-soaked hair and tugged your head up. Your eyes met his icy gaze.
Hopelessness filled you. Begging had fallen on deaf ears.
“That’s right, you won’t tell anyone…but I’m not finished with you yet.”
As a gasp lifted from your lips he chuckled, “You’re precious if you think I’m letting you go after seeing that.”
His cold palm grabbed the sides of your throat and began to choke you. As the oxygen restricted, your little hands clawed desperately at his callous hand. Your feet flailed against the gravel. Tears raced down your face. It was impossible to scream out without any air to cry with. With every passing second, a dizzy blanket was clouding your mind and filling your eyes with black spots. His glare made your knees buckle. Exhaustion from fighting was taking over, your nails left his hands, your eyes were finding it difficult to stay open. Eventually your lashes shut, and you let your mind drown in the airless space of time....
2 Weeks Prior.…
05:12pm Monday 5th August 2024, Fortitude Valley, Brisbane, Australia.
“Y/N you haven’t met your requirements…again…” Your job seeking agent sighed with heavy disappointment, “This is your second demerit…if you can’t meet the quota next fortnight your Centrelink government payments are going to be entirely cut off, do I make myself clear?”
Your fingers pinch at each other, the skin falling away and your nails short as can be. Nodding your head, you bashfully hummed, “I just thought, my circumstances might’ve been enough reason for me not to find a job at this current moment?”
The woman looked at you sharply through her thick rimmed glasses and huffed, “Ah yes that’s right…your friend died, right?” her nose lifted in a light sneer. Her chipped nails clacked at the keyboard, in the reasons for inadequate job search results.
“Family member…actually,” you said, sucking in a deep amount of air to push down the tears forming behind your eyes…just thinking about him made you want to sob your heart out…
“Unless you can supply their death certificate to me, it’s not a good enough excuse.”
You inhaled sharply and nodded in defeat, “…how many jobs do I have to seek out again?”
Her lips twisted, she must’ve thought you were some idiot or bludger of the system. You wanted a job. You just had a tough time finding one. No one wanted to hire the girl that had fuck all experience in anything…no one wanted to hire you even though you had references all proving you were a hard and honest worker. You didn’t have the same networking and nepotism as the kids you went to high school with. They were all in university or in their family businesses. Some even had kids of their own now....
You were nineteen...still so unsuccessful.
You resented those fuckers…and hated yourself more for it. You were a classic for self-loathing and as much as you loved to preach about your confidence, it was all in vain because you knew deep down that you weren’t as smart, you weren’t as pretty and you would never ever be as rich as those around you. You knew you had to work three times as hard to make it through the world…but when…he died…that flew out the window… you were tired. You didn’t want to have to live in such a lonely world. You just want to sleep and sleep until there was nothing of you left.
Depression, one of the many stages of grief.
“To meet your government requirements, you need to hand out at least twenty-five resumes….by the end of the fortnight.”
You swallowed hard and shoved your hands into your jumper pockets.
“I’ll try my best,” you offered with a sickly smile. You rose out of the foam chair, slinging your bag over your shoulder and shuffled to exit her office.
Her brows lifted as she glared you down, “Don’t try Y/N, just do it.”
05:30pm Monday 5th August 2024, Fortitude Valley, Brisbane.
You were rushing to the bus stop shelter.
You wanted to cry. You were overstimulated and stressed. You could barely afford rent. The cost of living was in crisis, and you were finding it nearly impossible to find the courage to put forward your shitty resume.
You were frustrated. You didn’t understand the employment advocates role, they were meant to help you right? Help you write and hand in a decent resume to find a job; not make you feel like a failure.
Tears crawled up behind your eyes as you felt rain from the dark looming clouds fall. Starting to sprint there was a hope the rain wouldn’t drench; however, you still weren’t fast enough. The feeling of cold icy breeze mixed with your self-disappointment had you letting those pearly tears loose. You stumbled under the bus seat shelter and landed yourself onto the freezing metal bench.
You sobbed into your hands and asked yourself, “Why?”
‘Why did you leave your umbrella at home you stupid thing?! Why did the funeral have to cost so much? Why did rent have to cost so much? Why did the water bill have to be so fucking high? Why didn’t you talk to him sooner? Why was the milk that was clearly off not been thrown out? Why didn’t you see the signs? It was all your fault, right? Of course it was! You had to knit pick everything he did, you had to criticise and argue with him over things that truly didn’t matter...why, why, why?!’
‘Because you are a terrible person. An unlovable creature. No one gives a shit about you. Why would they love someone as ugly as you who resented everything in her life and didn’t take a chance to be grateful for anything. You were a mistake, and you shouldn’t be alive…you should run away…you should starve yourself or eat until you explode…you deserve nothing but punishment…you are evil…’
“Bad day, love?”
You jumped at the sound of a stranger’s voice. Peaking up from your warm snot covered fingers, you met man folding close his umbrella.
You frowned and wiped your mucus on your knees and embarrassingly whispered, “I’m alright.”
“Pardon?” He asked and sat down beside you. Your puffy eyes started to clear up and you noticed he was in fact holding a piece of fabric…a handkerchief to you.
He was handsome in a gentlemanly way, and he was ridiculously tall even while sitting beside you. His accent was pronounced and mannerly. British. You figured he was a tad bit older than you, be roughly at least ten years. Boys your age still had acne and didn’t dress in fine three-piece business suits.
He had a fuzzy moustache and a relaxing closed smile.
Your fingers tremble as you take the offering.
“Thankyou,” you said wiping your hands and blowing the last of the green sickly gloop from your noise. You felt embarrassed he could hear the grotesque noise come from your blocked nostrils.
With narrowed eyes you tried to hand back the disgusting handkerchiefs. He shook his head and winked, as if to gesture you keep it, which was fair…
“So…what’s his name?” He laughed lightly.
“Huh?” You weakly sniffled.
“Or her…I definitely don’t judge!” He held up his hands. When you looked at him dumbly, he leant his head down and whispered, “The moron that’s dumped you?”
A surprised giggle poured from your throat, “Oh, no, no one’s dumped me.”
“Ohhh, so you’re miss heartbreaker?” he drawled as he winked and nodded charmingly.
You quickly shook your head, “God no, never been in a relationship before.”
He tapped the side of his lip in thought remarked in dramatically put on surprise, “Then what’s a stunning girl like you sobbing for?”
You froze and shook your head. The lawyer said to keep it to yourself…you weren’t sure if you should’ve just lied to him. But it was his eyes, those sweet smiling lips that broke you down. You sucked your bottom lip and just let loose…
“My um…ugh... dad…he um…he….” You started to break into more tears as you felt forced to acknowledge what occurred, “d-died, he died, and I miss him.”
Your shoulders shook like leaves. The frigid air on your wet body was torturous.
His demeanour softened further, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
He offered you a hand and held yours with a tight squeeze as you just lost it in your weeping. Your nose started to clog up.
Dear God, how many times had you already heard someone say that? ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ ‘It’ll get easier with time.’
Everyone you knew who knew about it would say it as if they knew the bastard…squeezing your eyes shut when you opened them you felt them roll and you noticed how he stared at you.
“Sorry,” you croaked. You wiped your face with the handkerchief again before you stuffed it back into your pocket.
He didn’t seem uncomfortable, his smile was soft, his eyes kind.
“You’re allowed to cry…” he suddenly said amongst the loud silence in the rain. He scooted closer to you and carefully placed his hand over your wrist. He tilted his head and murmured, “Did you know that?”
‘I know that, I just don’t deserve to. Not after what I did.’
You swallowed hard and looked away from him as you felt more tears come. You should’ve been disgusted by the way he was so informally getting to you, how his hot hand wrapped around your wrist and the other pinched your jaw, guiding your face back to look at him.
“I-” you choked and twisted your face as you started to wheeze, “I hate him so much…but I miss him and love him at the same time…I just want him back…why can’t I have him back, oh god.”
His eyes kept straight on you.
The bus was starting to pull up. When you noticed, you started to fumble to try and find your bus go-card pass. He let you go and watched you anxiously dive into your bag.
‘God where is it?!’
“Hey, hey! It’s okay.” He touched your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll buy you an uber, how’s that sound?”
You uncontrollably blurted, “Sounds like you’re pitying me.”
You glanced back at him to the bus and tried to stand up. His fingers curled around your jumper and tugged you back a little.
You flinched when you expected anger. A slap. A yell. Anything but his jolly laughter.
“And you think you don’t deserve it? You’ve lost someone you care about. You’ll never see him again. And the least I can do is get a smile back on a pretty girls’ face.”
You smiled and wiped your face as he shooed away the bus driver who was waiting. The bus driver rolled his eyes and threw up his hands before pulling away. The bus took off leaving you both to bare the strength of the rain and wind beneath the shelter.
“Besides…you can’t tell me the bus would’ve gotten you home faster, eh? Assuming you’re going home?”
You nodded and shivered, “Now the uber is gonna be pissed off, I’m dripping wet.”
He smirked, “Believe me. If he’s pissed off, I’ll just have to kill him.”
Now that…that was weird. Perhaps he was trying to exaggerate his gentlemanly nature to you, you wondered. Maybe, because he said it so casually, so it must’ve been a joke.
He took out his phone…sleek…the newest on the tech shelves for sure.
“So, um…where’s your address? Or do you wanna punch it in yourself?”
You told him outright where you lived. He smiled and typed away. He didn’t look like he posed a threat to knowing that information.
He just was a kind soul that gave you a bit of comfort through the day. You weren’t total sure where you sat with spirituality and faith, but you liked to imagine maybe your dad had sent this stranger.
‘Maybe he's an angel in disguise?’ you mused to yourself.
He put his phone back in his pocket.
“Actually, now that I realise, forgive me but I never got your name…I’m Walker, August Walker.”
You couldn’t help it…it was so unexpected, you burst into giggles and replied in a deep manly voice resembling James Bonds classic line, “I’m Y/L/N, Y/N Y/L/N, a pleasure to meet you.” And you stuck out your hand to him. He shook it tightly enough to make you wince and whine a little “Ow.”
His smile widened, “You have a fantastic laugh Miss Y/L/N. So other than dealing with your current grief, what else have you been doing today? You look like you were in an interview?”
You shook your head, “Oh no, it’s a little embarrassing but…I was just at the employment agency group over there.”
He followed your line of sight and nodded thoughtfully, no shame or disgust in his face, “Seeking a job then, are we?”
You smiled, “Yea, but no one’s hiring…”
‘Because I never put in a single resume…not anymore...what’s the point? Not when I won’t be around soon with how my thoughts are headed...’
He looked out into the stormy street with thought written on his face. His lips pursed and his brows descended. Without looking a back at you he then asked, “What type of work are you looking to go into?”
You shrugged, “Anything I guess…I have a talent for social media and a bit of amateur photography. I don’t mind the thought of working in a warehouse and stacking shelves neatly either. If I had the money, I think I’d study journalism.”
Sitting up straighter he rubbed his fingers over his moustache in thought, “Ever thought about not working at all?”
You snickered, but he didn’t find it funny.
“You’re joking right?” You lifted your brows, “Listen, if I didn’t have to work life would be a lot easier. But I’m living off the government right now. If I don’t find a job soon, they’ll cut me off.”
He looked down at you and softly asked, “But honestly…if you didn’t have to work, didn’t have to worry about rent or your next meal…would you be satisfied with not having to work a job? Some people use a job to escape their life, others use it to put food on the table and a roof over their heads. Some love and others hate their jobs. I’m just trying to figure out where you would sit in the equation.”
You liked him. For the first time in weeks, you felt unjudged, you felt comfortable, you felt safe and like life would be okay…you felt heard.
You jokingly replied, “Listen man, if I found myself being some sugar baby overnight, I’d happily take it. No work. There’s nothing better than I can think of…I know it’s shallow to wish that, makes me sound like a gold digger honestly. I just would prefer to live in stability.”
He nodded and chuckled, “I agree!” There was something warm and refreshing being here with him…you felt tingly...down there. A small blush grew in your face.
You saw a fancy black car roll up beside the bus stop hut. It was definitely not your average uber. It was an elite vehicle; it was a tesla. You tilted your head when you saw your new friend rise from the bench and open the umbrella.
“Well come on now, don’t dawdle,” he playfully scolded.
Practically leaping from the bench, you scurried under the umbrella with him. He placed his hand dangerously low on your back guiding you to the back seat of the car. It was fancy enough that the windows were to tinted black outside and the handles were flat on the door…and pushed out so you could open it. Very futuristic, you noted. You wondered just how much it cost to higher an uber of this type and class.
“Hope you don’t mind if I join you for the ride? I’m headed home myself as well,” he said as you slid inside. The warm heated seat greeted your cold wet bum happily. The driver you barely got a look at except that he appeared very professional with his driving gloves, and a driving cap.
You didn’t mind that August was going to join you. It was something you found yourself enjoying…besides you didn’t like the silence of an uber alone.
“Thankyou, honestly,” you suddenly said, “I was having a really shitty day, and you just seem to be my knight in shining armour. Thankyou for your kindness August.”
He leaned forward and turned up the heater and pointed the fans in your direction. A subtle sign, he cared…he was trying to warm you up.
He smirked, “It’s the least I can do. You’re too sweet to leave alone on the street. Anyone could’ve plucked you up and do God knows what.”
You accepted his compliment the best you could. Something buzzed inside of you. You wanted to ask for his number, but reconsidered.
You shouldn’t be feeling that…arousal…‘you’re not thinking straight, your dad just died, you’re clearly just clingy cause you’re broken…now you’ve become someone else’s burden for the day… god you’re a terrible fucking person.’
The car drove on and hit a set of lights.
“Y/N?” You liked hearing your name come out of his mouth, it sounded…sexy. His blue eyes glanced back at you.
“Y-yea?” your throat tightened.
He smiled at the stutter, “Would you mind joining me for dinner tonight? I know it’s quite forward but, I want to keep an eye on you. And listen, I can help you find a job, I do have a lot of connections.”
Your throat constricted. These types of invitations had other motivations attached to them. You weren’t very experienced in that department.
‘Say yes, c’mon girl.’
“I’m sorry but I don’t believe I’m in the right head space for dating right now.”
‘For fuck sake do you want to die alone huh? Maybe you should follow your dads’ footsteps you cold shrew.’
You anxiously recounted, “um, ugh, um. Listen, want to um, come back to my place? I have frozen lasagna and I um…I…no wait…I really don’t want to go back home.”
You couldn’t believe you rejected him so quickly. You were scared he was going to shut you out or kick you out of the car. Your heart wouldn’t stop racing. You wanted to say yes so badly it hurt. Why did your eyes sting? You didn’t see how badly you were breaking down. You were flustered beyond belief. Tears sprinkling out of fear and your mouth wouldn’t stop blubbering until his large hot hands covered your mouth and the back of your head.
Your eyes widened. The driver was watching from the mirror. The hand wasn’t harshly pressed, it was very gentle, you were just unmotivated to move away. His hand on your mouth smelt incredible and his skin on your lips tasted like a sweet salt.
You whimpered and kept crying.
“I need you to breathe through your nose,” he stated sternly… his voice was deeper, more in control, “Deep breath darling.”
You blinked back your tears and nodded, trying to calm yourself down and you took a deep breath into your lungs and coughed into his hand, you tried again and managed to succeed. You grounded yourself for him.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, “Now. I’ll ask again in a different way. Would you like me to take you to dinner tonight? Or would you like to go home? I’m being honest, I don’t think you should be alone tonight with the state you’re in.”
‘Good girl…’ your chest ached. You’d give anything to hear him say it again.
You felt small…without thinking you lifted your feet onto the seat and hugged them to your chest. You buried your nose into your knees and started to sulk. You didn’t know. You didn’t want to say the wrong answer.
“Jude, pull over,” You heard him say and felt the car pull out to the side of the road.
‘Jude…it’s impressive August cares enough to learn the uber drivers name, and that the uber driver obeys his request.’
The rain was getting heavier on the roof of the car. It was calming. You however were shaking. Your mind was racing a mile a minute.
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered.
He undid his seatbelt and rubbed your back, “What for?”
A stuttering ensued from you, “I- I don’t even know you- and-and you’re super nice and- you- I just- I’m sorry for wasting your time and letting you spend the money on the uber. I can’t even pay you back, I’m so sorry. I can leave. I-”
Jude glanced over his shoulder at August who held up a hand to stay silent, the driver turned back and smirked at you in the rearview mirror
“Y/N,” August softly said, “I don’t care about spending money, I didn’t waste it. You’ve clearly been through a lot recently. And it doesn’t sound like you have many friends that are supporting you if you’re behaving like this….”
Finally, he pressed his lips to your ear and whispered, “Do you need help deciding what you want to do?”
You nodded pitifully and tried to compose yourself. His breath was so hot on your face and yet when he pulled back the rush of cold air attacked that spot.
“In that case… Miss Y/L/N, you’re coming to my place tonight, I have a large spare bedroom and bathroom. I have a nice television with all the streaming services. I also have a pool. And you and I are going to do whatever you like. We can order in food. We can talk until the sun comes up or watch as many movies as you like. Tonight, I’m going to be like your best friend. Tonight is about you.”
It stunned you by how causally he tapped your nose.
Your bottom lip trembled.
He smiled softly as reminded, “You’re allowed to cry, would you like a hug?” he opened his arms and moved his leg up onto the seat behind you, laying himself back a little on the door.
The driver did not protest to his passengers’ lack of seatbelt. He switched off the seatbelt alarm.
“Oh god, please, yes,” you hiccupped as you crawled into his arms. You laid your head onto his chest and felt him rub his hand up your spine and down again over and over. His chin sat on your head. He was huge and he made you feel safe….
As you felt the car move away back onto the street you shut your eyes…he was so warm and covered you like a blanket, you felt ridiculously safe…
06:10pm Monday 5th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane.
You didn’t notice you drifted off until you heard the car door shut from the driver.
Your eyes fluttered open before you weakly rubbed the crust that had built on your eyelashes. You groaned and released soft displeased noises.
“Did you have a nice nap?”
In fact, you did. It was the best sleep for the first time in weeks. It had been too long where you had lost rest over the horrible memories and nightmares.
It had stopped raining, but the smell was still thick in the air. The sky was dark, night had set in.
‘How long was I asleep?’
The car was parked inside a round driveway. A large house…a fucking palace…a mansion you’d see the cartel owning in a movie was in your eyesight as you say up. It was pre-modernist, cream and white stone and marble. The lawns were green, and the courtyard was massive, surrounded by hedges, a true botanical garden and a tall black fence gate.
“Where are we?”
The car door opened, and August sat you up so he could slide out and offer his hand to you, “My place.”
You blurted, “Woah.” And heard him chuckle.
“I imagined an apartment inner city or a townhouse north side but not this…”
He said he didn’t live that far from you, but this felt like the middle of nowhere...in a neighbourhood on the Northside...but the area...the building aged style. It must’ve been the southside. You decided this had to be near Sunnybank.
You smiled at the smell of wet soil in the air. It filled your lungs as you stepped out of the car.
Your head hurt…you cupped your eyes as the lamp lights hit them. You hissed. A headache was coming on, “Do you have any ibuprofen or paracetamol I can use? I’ve got a headache is all.”
“Of course,” he said gently.
August took one of your hands and guided you across the white gravel driveway to his front French door that was twice as tall as him. The foyer had your jaw dropping.
To the left was a grand staircase. To the right were two more large doors. And in the centre was a decorative lounge set. The ceiling had a round banister and on the top ceiling was a crystal chandelier.
He took you to the left immediately and entered an enormous kitchen.
The house you noted would’ve had to been influence by ancient Grecians aesthetics with the pillars that held up the second floor.
It was gorgeous. The benches were white marble with gold inlay and the grout on the back splash inlayed with the same materials. He wandered over to the top of a big black matte fridge. There was a cupboard above it. He pulled down a basket filled with little boxes of necessities like Band-Aids and alcohol wipes. August handed you a box of Panadol and fetched a glass of water as you awed at his kitchen space. A big island with two sinks really impressed you.
“This is massive!” You praised before downing two of the white tablets.
This was a billion times nicer than the flat apartment you were living in.
He took the glass back from you and placed it in the sink. He waved his hand, “C’mon I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping tonight!”
You toddled behind him aweing at the rest of the rooms you passed. He took you up the stairs to the second floor where you both passed the banister that looked down to the bottom floor.
He gently touched your back and guided you across the living room on the second floor. There was a more modernised setting. There was carpeted floors and a coffee table with a L-shaped white lounge. It was so pristine and clean. The television on the wall you swore was as big as a wall in your apartment. You floated to the glass French doors that held. Balcony and sitting area.
He came to a halt at a light wooden door and cracked it open. The room was amazing! The bed was a queen, and the bed was covered in a fresh made set of cream coloured covers. You liked the design and art. It had a European Victorian era feel, like you were walking into a royal bedroom…but in Australia.
‘Interesting design choices.’
You laid your tote bag on the duvet and sat on the edge. To your left was a bathroom and to your right was a big window that opened the view of the back yard. At the foot of the bed there was a spacious closet to hang coats and dresses. You couldn’t stop smiling until it really hit you….men are never nice….not for free.
“Um August?”
“Yes love?” he said as he opened the curtains wider and jiggled a lock to open the window. Cool air flowed into the room. The sound of frogs and cicadas filled your ears.
“…Are you um…expecting….” You breathed out a tight bundle of air and fluttered your eyes shut, your fingers started to fidget, “Um do you….are you wanting…ugh.”
He patiently stared at you from the window with his soft smile.
“Do you expect to have sex with me? Is that what this is? You ugh, pamper me? Play nice? And then guilt me into sex? I just don’t roll that wa-”
His hand held up to stop you from continuing. He laughed and shook his head.
“Y/N no, of course not, I don’t expect a thing from you tonight…I just hope to help you. You need help. And I think tonight.” He crouched down to your feet and held your hands, “…I can help you.”
You unleash the breath you were holding and grinned. It was too good to be true…maybe he was gay?
He stood back up, “You can leave your bag in here if you like, let me show you the rest of my- um actually.”
August rubbed the back of his neck and bit his lip with a quick thought, “Did you want to change into something else? I can throw your wet clothes into a dryer. I don’t want you getting sick.”
You looked down at yourself and felt guilty for dripping down onto his nice carpet.
“It’s okay! I need to change too! You kinda got me all soaked when we cuddled in the car,” he tapped your shoulder.
You nodded slowly, “but what…would I wear? Do you have anything that would fit me? I mean no offence you’re just a really tall guy…”
The hairs on the back of your neck rose. Was this some ploy to get you nude? He just told you he didn’t want sex...
“Oh yes, just moment!” He said and he left the room. About five minutes of ringing his carpet in your wet state he returned. In one hand was a large white T-shirt and towel and in the other he was pinching light blue men’s boxers.
“I don’t have…ladies’ underwear on hand. The bottoms are new so it’s okay if you wear them. They’ll be covered by the shirt. Oh, and a towel.”
You nodded and skipped off to the shower that was beside the toilet in the next room.
You locked the bathroom door behind you and stood under a spray of total heavenly warmth unaware of the actions of a sick man just in the room beside you…
When you finished. You slid into his clothes easily. The clean scent of fresh linen invaded your nose.
You abandoned your clothes on the tiled floor along with your shoes you felt guilty for not taking off the moment you stood inside his beautiful home.
Coming out you tiptoed to the window and looked out at the view of the patio and what you suspected was a pool house or a car garage.
You felt your hands having to go to your hips and waist and pull up his boxers. Even for your size they were too big…how huge was he below the belt you suddenly wondered.
A soft knock on the door spun your head around. August was in the doorway. No longer in a suit but rather a pair of cotton shorts and a button up shirt which he left unbuttoned.
He lifted his brows at your hands clenching your hips.
“The bottoms keep falling down…sorry!” You tried to laugh it off.
He smiled and took your dirty clothes from off the bathroom floor. “Let me chuck these in the dryer and I’ll show you more around yea?” he skirted out the room after your confident grin.
You stood out in the living room area waiting for him to return. You heard him close and turn on his dryer, before seeing him steer around the corner, “Please, come right this way.”
Going downstairs and rounding the rooms you were exposed to an office, another bathroom, another, living room and a games room with walls lined with bookshelves and a billiard table in the centre.
You both stepped out onto the patio. There was chairs and tables and a cooking area and bar.
He held out his arm, gesturing you to walk down some stone steps. As you walked, beautiful warm lights glowed awake in the gardens. He held out his hand and flexed his fingers....he wanted to hold your hand.
And you wanted to be held again badly. You put your hand into his and walked beside him on the concrete path. You passed a beautiful fountain with angels pouring the water from vases.
“What do you do- work wise- to afford all of this or is it generational wealth or-” You recounted, “I swear I’m not trying to be rude. I just…you must be a millionaire...or even a billionaire...”
August smiled proudly and chuckled, “Please, I’m very grateful and happy to have all that I own. I’m just a very hard worker. I know how to talk to people. I started out as an actuary, but nowadays I’m crushing the market with my investment properties and stock exchanges.”
Your eyes widened, “You have more than one house!?”
A sting of annoyance hit you. Of course, he owned investment properties. That’s how all these rich scumbags survived off the working class during this cost-of-living crisis.
‘He’s definitely a billionaire in this economy. Ain’t no way he can afford a property like this and more as a standalone millionaire.’
He laughed and nodded and winked, “Yes, I do, but I make more money off my clubs. I run a few elite groups. Night clubs, boat clubs, a golf club and more unique clubs, a lot of them are overseas...Oh and a the little Asian restaurant in Sunnybank.”
‘Dad used to deliver there...’ you tried not to dwell on his memory. Quickly you wanted to change the subject in your own mind.
You lightly giggled, “Oh is that why…you ugh…said you could get me a job? Mr boss man?”
He bit his lip and shrugged, “Yes and no.”
He didn’t elaborate. You were waiting for him to offer a bartending or cleaning career. Instead, he showed you the pool inside his giant pool house across from a lengthy tennis court.
The pool was long and rectangular with inner pool lights that reflected the blue water. It had a heating system and off the side there was a spa jacuzzi.
He held open the glass door. You tiptoed ahead of him and slipped to the ground to stick only your feet into the small bubbly pool.
He joined you and turned the machine on. He pressed another button and the roof seemed to move away. You jaw dropped again, and a small laugh escaped you. The stars were starting to appear against the black night sky. You’d never seen something so advance and magical in technology.
The warm lights of the pool yard flickered on. Steam rose from the bubbling spa and your nose wrinkled as you smiled back at him.
“So….how do you suggest I become a billionaire, take a course in stock market patterns?” You joked which started a bark of laughter in him.
“I just don’t think you’re cut out for it. That stress.”
It might’ve offended you, his cutting brush off. ‘Why can’t men just be honest and say they don’t want women in power?’ however after the death of your father, it was easier for you to just agree and kick your feet in the water lazily. Your stomach growled lightly.
“Guess that’s the dinner bell?” August joked as you sheepishly smiled and embarrassingly turned your face away from him, “Chinese? Italian? Sushi? Pizza, name it and we’ll get some delivered.”
You chose Chinese. Honey chicken was your favourite. He was a sweet and sour pork kind of guy.
You both ate it out back at the house upstairs in the living room. He was finding it difficult to use the chopsticks until he gave up and chose to use the disposable fork.
“Here,” he said stabbing his food and drifting it to your mouth, “What do you think?”
You never felt so comfortable as this with someone since your dad passed. Not even your high school friends were so…casual and inviting?
You smiled and opened you mouth to accept his fork.
You gagged and shook your head, “Now that’s awful! I’d be getting a refund for that, I’m lucky my chicken doesn’t taste like that.”
You burst into giggles as he opened his mouth gesturing that you feed him some of your dish now. You shook your head with a smile and complied.
Why did this feel…romantic…he really was a good guy right?
He winced and gasped after swallowing, “Too sweet.”
After throwing the plastic containers away you and he flopped on the white couch.
“So, what’s your movie request?”
You lazily shrugged and leaned against his arm as he flicked through the thousands of on demand movies.
It’s when you felt it though….something clawing at the back of your mind and gut…You didn’t want to watch a movie at all…
“Hey, can…can you show me how to play poole on your table in the games room?”
His eyes brightened, “Sure! C’mon then.”
‘God, he’s gorgeous…’
07:06pm Monday 5th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane.
The games room was still as impressive the first time you stood inside. He rounded the opposite side and started laying out the balls.
“Have you ever played before?”
“Yea, but I’ve kinda forgotten the rules?”
He smiled, not annoyed by your lack of knowledge. He looked eager.
“Well, I’ll reach you the easiest game I know, Eight Ball,” he assured as he passed you a cue stick.
He rubbed the chalk on the tip and set the game up.
August guided you gentle by the elbow and lifted the triangle cage frame from the balls clenched together.
“To start the game, we hit the white ball to hit the other balls. There two teams. Solids verses stripes.” He pointed to the two different balls, “which team would you like to be?”
You bit your bottom lip gently, “Hmmmm stripes!”
He smiled, “Then I’m solids.”
He then explained that you had to get all your team balls into the holes by hitting the white ball into them, but you weren’t allowed to let the white ball fall in too or else you missed a go the next turn.
You watched him lean down and start the game. Leaning yourself down you hit your balls in with a streak of luck, beating him.
“Used to play huh? I reckon you were pulling my leg, now Miss Y/L/N…you are whipping me!”
You couldn’t help the giggles flying from your mouth.
Eventually it became head-to-head as your luck ran dry…. Now it was do or die. You and he both only had a single ball left.
You leant down and stuck out your tongue as you aimed your cue… you couldn’t get the right angle though. It was tricky. You were risking hitting his ball instead and that would lose you a go next turn.
As a pair of hot lips touched your ear you jumped, “Need some help?” He purred.
Nervously glancing you licked your lips and nodded. He got behind you. Fuck, he was huge…you felt so warm in the pit of your belly.
His arms bared you to the table practically. His large hands readjusted your hold on the cue and sneakily slid down between your thighs to part them.
“Widen your stance, get really close.”
But his fingers lingered along your inner thighs… your felt sweat bead on your forehead confident he could feel the warmth radiating from your pussy. The boxer shorts you borrowed were also slipping down. You felt the cold air tickle your butt crack.
You aimed the cue and hit the ball….but it missed…
He laughed as you cheekily claimed, “You cheated! You made me miss! Sabotage!”
“Well how about we make it fair then? Let’s make a bet,” he chuckled, he chalked his que tip was he spoke, “If you win, you can have whatever you want out of me, a car, a house, a job, whatever, but if I win?...I get to kiss you.”
Your massive grin fell, and you stood away from the green covered table. Your heart dropped…maybe he wasn’t a gentleman….
“You said I didn’t have to have sex with you.”
His eyes were wide, while his voice was softer with his hand lifted, “And you don’t! I just think it would be nice if I could kiss you…if I win…you won’t even need to kiss me back. Just a peck on the lips is all. Or the cheek if that’s more acceptable?”
You chewed the inside of your cheek and moved closer back to the table, “Alrighty then…”
He bent over the table and aimed his cue…he missed the hole. The ball smacked hard and bounced from the wall.
It was now your turn. You leaned steadily and tried to mimic what he was guiding you to do before. You breathed in and as you slid the long stick across your thumb, you struck home…your last stripe ball fall into the hole and you won the game.
You shrieked with happy disbelief and twirled around giggling, “I win, I win, I win.”
He shook his head smiling. And sat on the edge of the table watching you enjoy your success.
“Girls rule and boys drool!” You snapped with you little victory dance. You spun on your heel girlishly and wagged the cue stick.
You were drunk off your own winnings you collided into him a little too hard. He grunted. His hands peaked out and gently tugged your sides between his leaning legs.
“Now miss Y/N you’ve won the prize, what are you claiming today?” He said it like a game host which tickled your insides. He was grinning wide.
“Tesla, house? How about a fancy little doggy? Or a brand-new iPad?”
Your cheeks grew hot. He said he’d offer you anything…but he must’ve been joking surely…you didn’t want to push your luck by saying something silly as “a million dollars”.
You wanted him to like you, honestly. Your toes scrapped against the carpet in brief thought...you thought about how maybe you really wanted to give him exactly what he wanted...why hide that?
You sighed and glanced up at him and purred, “What about…a kiss from August Walker the most patient, kindest and generous man I’ve ever met in a very long, long time.”
You coyly cocked your head as you leant against him. His broad chest was hard and muscled. You experimentally placed your hand over his chest sliding it up to his neck.
He smirked, “Well I think we can come to some form of agreement for that then, yes?” His face leaned down and he pressed his hot lips to your wet almost drooling mouth. His moustache was rough against your nose and chin. Now you know what they meant in romance novels when kissing men with facial hair tickled. You just wanted to keep giggling as those dark hairs poked your soft skin.
Your wrist fully came up behind his neck. ‘God, this is surreal’.
You felt like you were in a romance novel or soap opera. You melted perfectly. It wasn’t the first kiss you’ve ever had but it was the most comforting and intoxicating one.
“Fuck,” you whispered against him as he pulled back a little before licking your lips softly.
His hands on your waist became hands beneath the shirt. He was slow and steady. Hot palms traced your belly and breasts and back. You gasped lightly into his mouth and felt his light squeezes. He pushed his head back.
“And how was that prize Y/N?”
You nodded and sucked both your lips into your mouth. You felt warm and light, with a bucket of butterflies in your tummy. You felt brave....
You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this good. ‘Lord knows it’s been months.’
Finding his large hands under the shirt you touched them and guided them to grope your naked breasts.
“Not enough, need more,” you huskily begged.
He obliged. He slid off the billiard table and picked you up like you weighed the size of a small dog.
‘God he is so strong…’
He carried you quickly to his room, it was upstairs and across from the guest room he had put you in. He barely had time to turn on his lights with how desperate you were clinging to him, kissing his neck and ear.
He laid you across the bed and bent down over you. He parted your legs and pressed himself against you.
He whispered, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Do you want this? Because I can stop now but when my cock is inside you, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”
You felt your blood pumping and rushing…God, you wanted this so bad…you needed this distraction…there was only one thing stopping you…
“I…I…I’ve got no idea what I’m doing sorry.”
A wave of embarrassment caught you fast. Your hands pressed into your eyes trying to not cry.
You choked up, “Um I’ve never done this…”
You felt him move completely away and you weren’t sure if that was something you regretted saying. You felt so ashamed. You must’ve disappointed him.
He pulled your hands away from your face and with your blurry gaze you managed to see his softened face. His cheeks were pink. He laid a hand on your head and ran his thumb across your forehead.
You whimpered. The humiliation was consuming you.
“Listen to me…” he soothed, “Your kisses,” he lightly chuckled, “That told me straight away you’re not very experienced...I don’t mind. Are you a virgin? I don’t mind if you are or aren’t. I can show you, teach you what to do. I don’t want you to feel scared tonight, okay?”
It was a weight lifted from your chest. You slowly nodded and swallowed audibly.
The grin on his face grew the widest you had seen it, “Good girl.”
Your chest squeezed with warmth. He thumbed away the two sneaky tears that had escaped your eyes. His fingers then hooked the large shirt off your head. It was habit to be modest, your wrists rose up and covered your chest.
With the tick of his tongue, he playfully disapproved. His nose shoved down into your neck and you squealed with a laugh as you couldn’t hold back from his moustache rubbing against the sensitive flesh. You felt his lips smiling against you, his head shaking a little. Large hands rubbed along your back and arms, before carefully pulling your wrists away from your chest. His lips and wet tongue made your toes curl as they drifted across your collar bone and down to your chest. With small fuzzy kisses, he pecked along your breasts.
Your eyes sparkled. He was so nice…he was so safe…making sure to make this easy and fun.
His nose pressed into the underside of your tit, and he breathed in, “God you smell incredible.”
The buzz of praise rose in you.
His mouth leaned up and he looked you in the eyes as he watched his lips around your right nipple. His hand reached up and thumbed the left one.
A deep guttural moan escaped your mouth as you watched and felt his hot mouth play with your buds. When he sucked, you knew you were done for. Your hips jerked. There was no friction but the boxers and air. Your clit was making you want to cross your legs tightly. But the way you sat; your legs would not be able to close.
After what felt like hours, but you knew really were measly seconds, he detached his mouth with a loud pop and sucked at your skin down the line of your belly. He eventually got to the hem of his boxers on your hips.
He was rough and it shot electric energy through you as you felt his hands pull them down with lightning speed.
You shrieked and cupped yourself. Now this was scary…you were hairy, and you felt embarrassed for not being entirely clean.
You could smell yourself and that was humiliating. No matter how many times the doctor said nothing was wrong you or your ph levels, just weren’t entirely sure. You never smelt anyone else’s musk like that before.
His eyes widened. You almost broke into sobs then. Could he smell it too?
He didn’t wait. No, he forced your hands above your head as he pushed you completely back.
He grunted, “keep them back or I’ll tie them back.”
A voice in your head joked that you should test his theory but in the logic of your mind you accepted to obey his request.
You watched as he pushed your knees further away and his mouth pressed into your inner thigh. Your thighs trembled as you bit the inside of your cheek to stop from giggling from the tickling pricks of his face.
He groaned incredible loudly, “You’re already so wet for me? I’ve never met such a girl that could drench her thighs like this,” he lied.
His face was so close you felt his hot breath fan over your lips and clit. The sensation caused you to involuntary jerk back.
He darkly chuckled, “Now, now, we’ve barely begun.”
Without verbal warning, his mouth dove between your legs. His giant flat tongue licked you from your back entrance all the up to your slut. His hands clamped down in your rising hips. He forced your hips to stay still as he licked away at every crevice and nook.
Your eyes couldn’t stay open. Your mouth couldn’t stay quiet. You were his moaning mess.
Who would’ve thought? Your luck…crying at a bus stop became moaning in millionaire bedsheets.
He didn’t seem to care about the hair or unkept scent. You didn’t comment on your legs, or your armpits and he was eating you out like a starved man…wow…those were green flags.
You felt bold…. your hands came down and found his head of curls. Your fingers brushed and combed and lightly tugged him in.
When he looked up, he looked like he was glaring…
“S-sorry,” you whispered as you pulled back.
He shook his head and put your hand back on his head.
You smiled. God he was fucking perfect…what if this was all just a dream?
This was a happy dream. It was erasing the memory of grief. Your broken heart was mending under his care. A man you had only met today, and you were panting under him, yearning to please him for his generosity. It made you feel smaller…but you didn’t feel…guilt…. you enjoyed feeling like you were now protected, and safe…
You felt his nose press against your clit, and you choked as your lower body buzzed and shook out a small orgasm.
“f-fuck!” You whimpered.
He pulled back, his chin was glistening with your wetness.
He abruptly stood tall and gruffly commanded, “Move up a little and lay back, I’m gonna fuck you, okay?”
You nodded and felt your chest tighten with anxious excitement.
You scooted your butt back on his bed. Your knees you fought yourself to keep open as he just stared at you…he was just look at all of you, his eyes flashing around from your legs to your chest to your face.
He made you feel…worshiped. He made you feel beautiful with how unbashful he was as he stared. He pushed down his shorts and started to climb onto the mattress with you.
But what was between his legs surprisingly turned you off…
“Wait…wait Aug-August…I…I don’t think I can take that….you…ugh.”
He was prideful…he sat back on his ankle. His erection jutted to the sky. He tilted his head.
“I have fucked smaller things than you darling. I know my cock will fit.”
“B-but” you whined, “it’s – that’s gonna hurt me.”
He crawled up closer and grabbed your ankles dragging you down to him. You squeaked and looked up at him with flickers of fright… he wouldn’t hurt you, would he? He hasn’t all day. But this was a sticky situation to be in…
He rubbed his hands on your knees.
“Trust me…it won’t hurt.”
Your lips curled into your mouth. You slowly nodded…he was right, surely it won’t hurt. He did just give you lubricating oral sex…you trusted him.
He kissed you again and stole your breath away as he shifted himself forward and spat loudly into his hand. He pumped himself once, then twice and sat the silk soft tip on your clit. He dragged it down to the entrance of your pussy and pushed inside.
Your hands automatically grabbed his arms that were beside your head.
“Deep breath Y/N,” he shuddered, “c’mon be a good girl, relax your body.”
You tried your best to focus. Looking between you was a mistake; he was so huge and intimidating. You were confident he was tearing your opening.
You pressed your eyes into his wrist and tried to breath in and out.
Your skin prickles with goosebumps as you felt the walls of your inside expand.
He was widening you and making you full. Not a crevice within was not full of him.
You felt the brace of your cervix and huffed and tapped his arm. There wasn’t any way he could go further without killing you.
Your eyes started to tear up. He pulled back slightly and pushed back in, taking your breath from your chest in a light gasp. He did it again. This time he moaned now.
“You feel incredible Y/N.”
You nodded, it was hard for you to speak, you didn’t know what to even say.
He pushed in again and you lazily smiled, he was rubbing against your G-spot. Maybe it wasn’t so terrible for him to be so big?
You clenched uncontrollably and heard him hiss with pleasure.
He began to pick up the pace and rock faster inside of you.
“Yes,” you whispered, “god yes, yes, yes.”
When he chuckled, your insides shook with ultimate excitement. You gasped and let out a light moan.
His hand came between you and thumbed your clit. You had to bite your knuckle to stop from shrieking too loudly.
But he growled and tore your hand from you.
“If you scream, it better be for me,” he grunted and licked your neck before nibbling your earlobe.
Your eyes widened. His face was hard and hot with concentration and restrain. His hips rippled the bedding as he fucked you. You mewled loudly.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and moved your hips up. You thought he was hitting your cervix beforehand but surprisingly he now felt somehow deeper inside of you in a plain of pleasure. You threw your head back against the soft mattress and gutturally groaned.
You were confident you were going to cum soon. His brutal thumb kept flickering along your clit and the overstimulation of his mouth on your neck and his grunts and sighs above you finally set you into a blaze of heavenly flow.
You cummed with a silent scream. Your mouth was open and when your lungs found air, an exasperated cry escaped you. Tears fell and you moaned as you felt him continue to move until he himself froze up and sighed out his pleasure….it was when you now realised.
“Oh shit…you’re not wearing a condom.”
His eyes fluttered as he slowly pulled out and kissed your cheek.
“I’m gonna guess from the response you’re not on any pills or the shot? It’s okay I promise, I can get you some plan B. Let me clean you up first.”
It was so different to have met a man like him. He was like a unicorn in legend…he was perfect, handsome and kind.
You trusted in him.
He stood from the bed. You wouldn’t have bothered him to go grab a cloth, but your legs were lifeless. There was no way you were gonna walk on your own.
He waddled back from his master bathroom and kneeled to you. His hands spread your thighs further apart and kissed your skin. You giggled at his wiry moustache tickling your soft sweaty flesh. He took his time before cleaning you. He was staring at you. You didn’t understand why he was staring until a warm trickle poured out of your cunt…you sat up abruptly and tried to look down. You knew what it had to be…his cum…he had stuffed so much you were leaking out on his bed.
He was smirking…
He reached forward with the cloth towel. It was warm and wet on one half which he washed you with and then dried you in the other half. He stood up and said hushed, “I’ll be back.”
His lips pressed to your forehead, hot and wet.
It was maybe five minutes when he came waddling back, now totally flaccid, with a glass of water and a white tablet.
You felt bashful so nude and open on the bed. You thought about curling up in the blankets. You felt light and warm and needing a decent nap.
You looked up at him. He softly smiled.
“Open,” he whispered. Playfully you stuck out your tongue. He laid the pill flat on your pink tongue before pressing the lip of the glass to your lips. Greedily you drank down the pill. You took over the glass from him and gasped loudly when you finished it. You happily fluttered your eyes at him while he sat down on the bed beside you.
He was perfect. And yet…something didn’t sit right with you though.
“You keep…plan B in your home?”
Now that was disturbing…why couldn’t the man use a sheep skin condom? How many women does he sleep with? How old are the pills he’s keeping? How much of a playboy is he? It made you feel worthless.
All your happiness deflated. You were no longer special...you were just a number of his lays. And he took your first time…
He laughed and shook his head, “No, I don’t.”
That didn’t make sense because he just gave you a-
Your hands felt shaky. Your lips felt numb.
“Wh-what did you just give me?”
He took the glass from you before you dropped it. He put it in his side table.
“Aug-August…what was that?” You asked a little firmer, scared he didn’t hear you the first time.
“It’s plan B, right?” You started to beg.
When he didn’t answer you again, you knew something was truly wrong. It was dangerous. Your clothes were in his dryer, your bag down the hall. You were totally naked. You were totally vulnerable.
Your body was starting to experience drowsiness. Nausea was creeping in your belly. You hated this feeling.
You weakly moved down the bed. He didn’t try to stop you. He sat next to you and watched you lazily reach for and clench the borrowed t-shirt off the floor. You felt his hands pull it down your head, helping you dress. But you didn’t want his help, you wanted to know why that pill made you feel like the room was swaying even though you were sitting.
You pushed yourself on your feet and used the wall for support as you left this room. He was slowly behind you.
You knew now this was some sick game…he wasn’t watching over you to protect you, he was watching over you to toy with you.
“G-go away,” you whined as you tried to walk to the guest room to get to your bag and phone. You had been drugged and needed to call the police as soon as possible.
How could he have done this to you?!
You felt so exhausted. You heard his voice, but it was far away and you didn’t catch his words.
You finally got to the spare room but to get to the bed was a task impossible without a support wall. You slowly crouched to the floor and got to your knees. You were cold and naked and scared, but your heart was slow and relaxed by the drug. Your thoughts were racing. It was like your body wanted to be anxious but was too tired to match your thoughts.
Your fingers clenched the carpet as you crawled to the bed. Your bag felt so far away but you knew it was only two steps away.
As your hand reached for the mattress and your bag, August sat on the bed and took your phone from it. He waved it in front of your eyes and as you tried to grab it, he snatched it away.
“St-stop it,” you moaned. He laughed at you.
He shook his head and held the phone out to you, only to tear it back when you tried to grab it. He teased you. You started to cry. Frustrated and scared, you wept and felt your body giving out. Your arms fell forward, your face was pressed into the carpet.
The last thing you saw was his feet and his hand waving your phone in front of your face before your vision became black.
HELPLINES:
If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.
hey hun! was just wondering as I haven’t been on tumblr for a few months due to low storage, where did your series on Henry Cavill go? The one called something like The negatives of shooting people. I loved that series but I can’t find it on your page, has it been removed?
Hi my lovely!!! Thankyou so much for asking. Due to shadow banning by tümblr I decided to refresh my entire account here. I have been in the middle of editing The Negatives of Shooting People. I have changed it from a Henry Cavill fic into an August Walker fic. Details will be added, taken, and changed. The original plot line I intended to write was consistently being side marked by something else.
