3
“Stay right there and take your fucking.” The blunt head of his cock slid through the wetness his mouth had left. He opened me by degrees while I felt every bit of my tight wall give way.
A shaky exhale escaped me as the widest part of him slipped inside.
It burned deep, a tearing feeling that only settled when he slammed fully flat against me.
He held motionless, letting the sheer magnitude of his presence sink in while my cunt pulsed.
He began to move, the deafening slaps echoing off the walls like claps and filling the air with a hypnotic tempo that drowned out my attempt to think.
His free arm extended past my torso, hunting through the pile of scattered items, and wrapped around the dildo.
“Wait, what are you—” My voice cut off, strained by the steel cuffs, my wrists twisting uselessly while I tried to pull his newly found tool away.
Oh God.
Mr. Atwood’s plan wasn’t hard to figure out. He was going to punish me with the very toys I had stolen.
“You need to learn your lesson, Grace.” He brought the toy down and spat directly on it.
Lining the silicone up with my asshole, he wedged it in without a second thought.
A scream tore straight from my diaphragm, but it only seemed to feed his momentum.
He locked me in place while he fucked me with the dildo and pounded his cock, ramping up the speed of both at once that my whole frame stiffened under the double-pronged assault.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He slapped my ass to silence me, but the dildo was just far too thick for a hole that had never taken anything before.
Mr. Atwood reluctantly pulled it out, breaking the overwhelming strain that had held me pinned. He glanced toward the door, acutely mindful of how far the noise might carry into the hallway. The sudden relief did little to calm the wild pounding of my cunt.
Before I could regain my footing, he drew me back flush to his torso, trapping me in his weight while his hand clamped over my mouth. Bent backward like a taut bow, my attempt to cry out dissolved into a muffled whimper.
“So fucking tight,” he whispered lowly. “What has my son been doing with this cunt?”
Ryan had already slipped from my mind. Hearing his name brought him back to the forefront of my thoughts.
Mr. Atwood didn’t care. He fucked me through it, continuing longer than I expected until the initial stretch gradually faded.
He used my restraint to his advantage, pulling back on my arms and arching me onto him to loosen me up even more.
Lifting me onto the surface, he unfastened his hold to turn me toward him. He pushed my knees apart, leaving my legs held wide like an open book, with us directly face-to-face and nowhere left to hide.
Mr. Atwood looked different from the polished, composed man I was used to seeing.
Strands of his hair had fallen across his forehead, dampened by sweat that dripped down his temple.
His age showed up close, but the dishevelment only pulled me in deeper.
It consumed me. Any remaining thought of Ryan burned out right then.
I locked eyes with him and willfully spread myself even wider, using my fingertips to unfold my pussy in a clear, taunting invitation that left nothing to interpretation.
The offering was taken with the change of his gaze unmistakable. Something darker and far more intent had settled, the look of a man who had already decided exactly how he intended to take what was being presented.
I was filled again in one powerful stroke. He kept thrusting, each movement growing deeper, his grip tightening while his muscles strained with the effort. Tremors ran through the wood beneath me while he paused to consider what came next. I soon had my answer when the wand came into view.
I gulped when I saw him flip the switch straight to its maximum speed.
Glancing at me with the faintest smirk, he lowered the vibrator while never looking away.
He paused with the humming field hovering just shy of touching me, letting the buzz fill the space between us, and only afterward pressed it against me.
The high-speed hit me like a live current.
My entirety reacted at once. Hips jerking.
Thighs trying to close. He pried them open and held the wand where it would do the most damage.
Within seconds the head was a mess, shiny, wet, coated in me, the buzz of it changing as it churned through my moisture.
Overwhelmed by back-to-back waves of intense orgasms, I clawed into him while my feet curled. He maintained his position above me, fixed entirely on my twisted face while I fought the continuous stimulation.
“Suck my cock.” At last, the toy fell silent.
My strength was running out. I could feel it in the way my feet wavered whenever I tried to move. Mr. Atwood simply stayed still, waiting and taking in the sight without giving me any reprieve. I let myself sink down, one knee already touching the floor when—
“Not that way.” He made it clear I wasn’t where he wanted me to be. “Lie down so I can fuck your throat properly.”
Father like son had never been more wrong.
If anything, Mr. Atwood was the complete opposite of Ryan.
Where Ryan had always left me wanting, his father seemed determined to make sure I never could.
Their resemblance stopped at their bloodline.
Whatever Ryan lacked, Mr. Atwood possessed in excess.
He didn’t make love. He thoroughly punished.
Crawling like he instructed, he slid me backward until my head tipped over the far border of the table.
My view flipped upside down, and blood rushed straight to my head.
The underside of his shaft hovered above me, shiny with my juice, and already nudging past my lips.
It forced them open, stuffing my throat that triggered a helpless gag.
“Take it,” he rasped. Stroke by stroke, he tightened the hold around my windpipe, leaving me struggling for air. Saliva gathered at the corners of my lips, then trickled down my cheeks. A guttural moan ripped from him, heavy with pent-up anger that finally seemed to spill over me.
My current suffering still wasn’t enough to satisfy him. Using two fingers, he parted my already bruised, tender lips and reached for the final toy in line.
“What a shame, Grace. Ryan never seemed to understand what you needed.”
The clear cup clamped down, creating a tight seal that vacuumed my clit deep into the plastic.
Held rigid beneath the tip, I felt the tiny silicone tongue ignite into a frantic flutter, whipping back and forth over raw tissue like a hummingbird’s wing.
There was no room to gasp properly, not with my mouth already occupied.
Somewhere in my thoughts, I was still trying to convince myself I could endure another few seconds.
Another few seconds. That was all I needed. That was all I wanted.
Except my body clearly hadn’t agreed.
A contraction pulled deep in my lower stomach, and the dam simply broke.
Warm liquid burst from me in a helpless rush, spraying between my thighs before spattering all over the floor.
The room dissolved into fragments of sound and light, my fingers curling uselessly at my sides while the last of my resistance slipped away.
A throb pulsed through him as he watched me break, his body going rigid right at the peak.
He came with a bitter taste, stale tobacco and flat beer filling my cheeks.
I couldn’t ignore the mess clinging to my lips, even as the rest spilled uselessly down my chin.
Above me, Mr. Atwood collapsed into stillness, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
“Good girl,” He looked down at me to wipe the spillage.
The exhausting weight of everything that had just happened made me refuse to move. Mr. Atwood stepped back, adjusting his security uniform. He picked up his phone, tapping the screen to check the time.
“Get your breath back.”
I was a tangled mess, gasping while I tried to pull together whatever pride I had left. The toys were still dripping with my fluid as reminders of the reckless impulse that had brought me into this room.
“Now,” he said, perfectly leveled, “we have a small matter of business to clear up.”
“Are you… are you still going to call Ryan?”
“You’ve spent the last twenty minutes making sure I wouldn’t. You’re going to clean yourself up, pack those used toys into your bag, and walk out the front entrance like a normal customer,” he instructed, grabbing the small brass key in his pocket.
He inserted the key into the cuffs and unlocking them one at a time. The steel released. I immediately pulled my hands to the front, rubbing the red marks on my wrists.
“And Ryan?” I managed to ask again.
Mr. Atwood leaned in close, his shadow blocking out the harsh light of the fluorescent tube overhead. “Ryan won’t know a thing. But from now on, when I tell you to step into this office, you don’t keep me waiting.”
He unlatched the door and opened it, revealing the bright, busy sales floor beyond. I gathered my things, zipped the tote shut, and stepped past him into the light.
I had thought getting caught was the nightmare.
I was wrong.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
I stopped and looked back. “Yes, Mr. Atwood?”
“Did you learn your lesson?”
“Yes, Sir.”
His gaze lingered on mine before he let me go.
I thought about his question the entire way out of the store. I had learned a lot… But the most troubling part was realizing Ryan was no longer the only man occupying my thoughts.