#Snaggs

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

I know this is a spoil so u can skip this question if u don’t want to see it.

According to the information I know from the new arc, did Vita really absorb all of Sa's power?????!!!!

The summary isn’t there yet so details pending, she did steal a bunch of power though. Good job girlypop. It was enough power that her eye color also changed to Sa’s, without the black sclera, just purple eyes. Pretty.

Sa’s been pretty fucked over though. Efforts basically ruined, one “root” is dead and Phosphorus is freed.

Carv’s TL of the ending(?) is as follows:

[Who are you digging a grave for? Is it for Phosphorus person?]

[It's not for Phosphorus person, miss.]

[So, is it for the Purusha person?]

[Not for a Purusha person either.]

[Not a person of Phosphorus nor a person of Purusha - then who is buried here?]

[Miss, she was originally a Purusha person, but she was already gone.]

...

Vita: The so-called [Gods]...

Vita: ...are truly [amusing].

Very ominous.

EDIT: Wyverein version has more context

[snagglepussaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay]

Me omw to dethrone the Pink Panther

[adotdamilton]

DAY 82

Of drawing sneeg everyday until he does my homework

Homestuck-IFICATION

[mamacoffeecat]

[putridintercourse]

snagg - inside looking out

[nakeddeparture]

Barbados. Victor Callender weighs in on why Fred Corbin should be arrested.

LISTEN HERE: https://youtu.be/cLtrocCiI-0

Now hearing Fred Corbin was spreading misinformation Re: Adrian Snagg makes this all worse! Lock him up! Naked!!

Like. Share. Subscribe.

[formosusiniquis]

I'm in chainmail, baby I'm impressed

Squeaking in under the wire for @stevieweek day 4: Special Outfit with bonus prompts: lingerie and DnD/Fantasy. Plus I'm counting this as my @steddie-week Day Seven Free Space

Stevie Harrington/Eddie Munson WC: 3217 | M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tags/Themes: Transfem!Steve Harrington; Transmasc!Eddie Munson; Fade to Black

AO3

It starts with a blouse.

No, that’s not right. It actually started when Stevie asked how earring a suit of armor didn’t chafe, and if a pair of keys could stab through a beer can how were arrows not sending stabby metal pieces into people.

Which actually probably means it really started with layers. Like the extra layer of leather, done up to Eddie’s chin when he called her back. “Make ‘em pay” wasn’t the send off she’d expected after the big boy and other flirting. Flirting that had made her stomach twist and her heart flutter and her brain flinch with the close but not quite of it. But maybe that’s why she’d sent her own return volley. Why she’d grabbed hold of that half done zipper and left Eddie with a pat to the chest and a promise to do just that.

She totally saved his life with that move. Her, the leather jacket, and some extra breast tissue Eddie wasn’t really using, all working together to keep razor sharp fangs from tearing flesh and puncturing any important organs.

That breast tissue maybe saved her too, when she learned just what having it made Eddie and what it meant about options she hadn’t known were there. They had a lot of time to talk in their shared bat bite isolation chamber.

Talk about layers that go under chain and metal to protect knights of the realm and their devoted squires that help them.

That started in the Upside Down, finished in the hospital. And this started in the thrift store.

The blouse was white. Pure white, basically neon, white as the virgin snow. Totally not Stevie’s color, the fresh wedding white brings out the undertones in her skin in a way that leaves her looking sallow and liver failure-y. But something about the sleeve catches her eye. The way  it balloons before gathering at the wrist. 

It’s a 70’s throwback for sure. Reminds her of the cover from the album Eddie brought over a few weeks ago, Little Queen. Robin has her face screwed up before Stevie even has it all the way off the rack. Hating it but trying to be supportive the way she has been throughout all of Stevie’s transition from Steve to who she is now.

“That is… wow!”

“It’s super ugly, and not even in a cool way.”

Robin slumps against the rack, sending a hanger cascading to the floor. She scrambles down to pick it up but Stevie doesn't miss her, “Oh thank god.”

“The best thing to happen to you was my sense of style not changing.”

“I know. You’d look good in anything, but my wardrobe offerings would have shrunk.” Seeming to remember the source of the freak out. She snaggs the shirt. “So what’s with this thing? I think even you’d struggle to make this look good.”

She takes it back from Robin’s disapproving grip. Holds it up to herself just to see the way Robin’s face contorts. The neckline is going to do nothing for her, not low cut enough to show off the way her boobs are coming in. The poof in the arms will accent her shoulders . And it’s so, so white.

“It made me think of Eddie,” she says, fingering the loose tie that’s hanging down the front of the blouse.

“It is very vampire lord,” Robin admits. “Might even make him look tan.”

Layers, knights would wear padded shirts under their armor and under those drapey shirts in cotton and linen. He’d been excited when he’d talked about it. Passionate. The way he got when he talked about Lord of the Rings or DnD. She holds the shirt even tighter against her, turns this way and that even though she can only kind of make out her reflection in the mirror at the end of the row. It’s an ugly shirt. But it makes her think of knights and Éowyn and paladins and Eddie.

Eddie flushed pink and beautiful, squirming in his seat in a different way than he usually does, talking about devotion and pledges. Duty and honor.

“I’m gonna buy it.”

“For Eddie?” Robin asks on a sigh. She already knows the answer.

“He’ll certainly get to enjoy it.”

The problem with being the one to come up with a plan is she has to be the one to follow through with it. 

Part of her knows the blouse would be enough. She could dress it up just right, flirt a little, and have Eddie eating out of the palm of her hand.

But the part of her that had a flair for the dramatic that rivaled her boyfriend’s wasn’t going to let her skimp unless she took every possible step to fully achieve her vision.

So she goes to the only person she knows who might be able to put the final and most crucial piece of the scene together.

Flopped across the Henderson couch, she’s making herself comfortable for her and Caludia’s date with Dallas. She’s too cozy to get up, decides it's easier to flop her head over the arm of the sofa to shout at Dustin while he rummages through the kitchen.

“So if I was trying to get my hands on some of that chain link armor stuff, would you know a drama club nerd who might have some?”

“Yeah, I have some.”

“You have some?” she can feel her eyebrows raised up into the middle of her forehead. She went to him for a reason, but surely she would have known if he was capable of affording something like that. Was that why she was footing the bill at the arcade every week, so he could have suit of armor money?

“Well it's not like it grew in the backyard, I made some.”

“Made some?” she flips around on the couch, this has become the kind of conversation she has to look at her brother and have him be rightside up.

He’s got his hand on his hip which isn't as commanding when he’s also holding a glass of milk in the other. It’s cute though, like he’s trying to channel her.

“What are you an echo? It's not like it was hard. You need some wire and pliers and patience.”

“And you?”

“Har har. Yes. Do you want to borrow it or not.” The threat is there even if she doesn’t think it’s that sincere. It’s fucking armor she doubts he could hide it that well if she wanted to just come in and take it.

But she makes nice anyway cause she’s a good sister. “Yes! Sorry.”

“Ma's got all that jewelry making stuff and you know I like to work with my hands when I'm talking with Suzie.”

“Disgusting.”

It was a joke. But it’s a joke that sends his drink sloshing over the sides of his glass as he startles. A good friend, even if she doubts he’ll ever acknowledge it, she stifles her laugh in the palm of her hand as he turns a shade of red that is medically concerning. 

“Ew, don't be crass, Stevie,” he stutters out.

“Is this even going to fit me,” she takes pity on him, dragging the topic back to her, “you made it for yourself half-pint.” The insult barely works, a summer growth spurt has left sophomore Dustin towering over her shoulder. Well, not towering, but he can see over her shoulder now.

“I made it for Mike, actually, so he could be his paladin at that convention in September. But he wouldn't let me measure him cause I ‘know what he looks like’ and it came out too big.”

“Oh so it'll be perfect for me.” She tries to make it a joke, but hearing that it was made for human stringbean Michael Wheeler has her nervous in the place where all of her ugliest body issues live. At least if Dustin had made it for himself it would have just looked like a crop top.

“Well, it still might not fit because of your,” he gestures vaguely at her front.

“Boobs, Henderson, they're boobs. You can call them-”

“Alright!” He shrieks, “I was trying to be respectful.”

“When have you ever been respectful? And don't say it's because I'm a girl, I'll push you into Lover’s Lake.”

“I wouldn't talk about El’s or Max’s is all I'm saying.” He says into the glass in his hand.

“But I can borrow it?”

“If it fits over your boobs,” he says the word like it's in a foreign language he's neither spoken nor heard, “you can keep it. I know it's for some weird sex thing with Eddie and I don't want it in my closet knowing what it's seen.”

Honestly it's for the best, because if this goes the way she thinks it's going to she really doesn't want to have to figure out how to get stains out of aluminum. But it's hard to resist the siren song of torturing Dustin. “I can't believe you're calling my sex life weird, are you saying there's something wrong with us? That we aren't a normal couple like everyone else? I thought you were a friend.”

“Nothing about Eddie is normal and he'd be offended you tried to suggest he was so I'd feel bad.”

“Yeah, good point loser.” She snuggles back down into the couch, she never really gives the episodes of Beauty and the Beast that much attention but this one should be wrapping up soon. “If it doesn't fit over my tits and it sees zero action do you want it back then?”

“After this conversation, I'm not sure I ever want to see you again. So just keep it. I'm sure Eddie will find some kind of use for it.”

There’s another quip at the tip of her tongue that she knows will send Dustin into fits, whether they would have been of rage or denial she’ll never know. The front door is slamming open bringing with it Claudia at the end of her swing shift.

“Stevie, dear,” she always bustles into the house like she’s carrying an armload of groceries even when it’s just her coming home in her uniform, “never go into nursing. Doctors are some of the dumbest fuckers on the face of the planet.”

It occurs to her, the attitude might be a family trait. Maybe that’s why they adopted her so easily. If only she could pull off the tiny hat the way Claudia can.

All of the pieces of her plan stay hidden for weeks. Folded up carefully in an oversized hatbox in the back of her Mom’s extended closet. The hat, a monstrosity purchased for a Derby she doesn’t think they’d even gone to left to gather dust or whatever it is hatboxes are meant to prevent.

The chainmail had fit. The weight of it as surprising as the cool feeling of it against her fingers.

She has the clothes, the accessories, even bought something silky and golden yellow to go underneath. Like the armor wasn’t going to be sexy enough for Eddie. Lingerie under lingerie like a hat on a hat, but she has to feel sexy or else she’s going to feel like a complete idiot.

She kind of already feels like an idiot. Something in the knowing that the top and the chain and the yellow bra with the flowers embroidered on it are all upstairs makes her anxious in a way she hasn’t ever been with Eddie before.

Hands haven’t been wandering during their movie nights. She keeps her feet kicked back behind her, crossed at the ankle, when they’re sharing a booth at dinner. There’s always a fifteen-going-on-sixteen year old chaperone in the car with them, sometimes even in the front seat as she pretends she’s just making sure they’re getting pre-prepared for their upcoming drivers tests.

And sitting next to him on the sofa, a whole cushion between them for the first time since ever, she watches the careful way he makes each line as he sketches and cross hatches what she can just make out to be a flowing haired knight. Her resolve breaks.

Stevie craves him the way she used to want ice cream on a hot day. The taste and feel of it an almost physical feeling, she would want it so bad. That’s what horny feels like now, she’s slowly realizing.

Before she can overthink it too much more, “I wanna try something.”

Normally she thinks of Eddie as having a kind of feline grace, he slinks and when he does fall off of something he isn’t supposed to be on he grins like it was always the plan to reacquaint himself violently with the floor. But the hint of suggestion in her voice has him perked up on the couch like a dog that just heard his leash come off the hook.

It's embarrassing how badly she wants him.

“What were you thinking, baby?”

He’s better at this than she is, at the lead up. The introduction. It’s a different skill to slowly introduce the concept of the strange, a change. Different than foreplay. She feels like she’s propositioning her proposition. The thing about slow, missionary in a room with the lights dimmed, no bandaids need to be ripped off before.

“You’ve roleplayed.”

“Not the kind I think you’re suggesting.” He’s impossibly more perked. Notebook and pencil still and poised like he’s about to start taking notes. “But I’ll try anything you want to do, however you want to do it.”

Maybe it isn't healthy, but she likes that about Eddie. That he’s all in on her, obsessed maybe. Willing to push himself out of his comfort zone for the sake of letting her have what she wants or try what she thinks she wants.

She likes how a few right words will turn him into putty she can squish and meld between her fingers.

“I’m gonna go get changed.”

Now that Eddie is waiting downstairs for something spectacular, it isn't so hard to pull that box down from its hideaway and slide each layer on. She already knew it wasn’t that hard to get the chain on and off by herself, she had tried it on. Maybe squires were for the heavy metal suits like on Scooby-doo. Or maybe it was about the intimacy and the ritual even back then, sliding on pieces and parts meant to keep the other person safe from harm knowing later if there was a chance to undress again you could see just how you helped save them.

Next time, she thinks, they should do this the other way around. She can get Eddie off a couple times, clean him up, and slowly dress him in each new layer. Until he’s lying in her bed armored in metal and cocooned by her cotton sheets. Safe from anything the world might want to do to him. Under her panties, and the sports leggings she’d decided where the sexier choice of pants, she can start to see the evidence of her arousal in the full length mirror.

It’s a good thing Dustin doesn’t want his stuff back.

Her finishing touches go on next. The gold ring with the small green stone that Robin had given her slides on to her index finger. Then around her neck her holy symbol, the guitar pick from Eddie’s first post-almost dying show. Tossed at her from the stage in an act of Bon Jovi badassery. She had gently poked a hole through it and now she slides it on its dainty, gold chain around her neck.

She tugs at her hair in the mirror, the one part that isn’t quite right. In her vision it’s finally grown out, beautiful waves that would fall out of the ugly helmet she doesn’t have when she pulled it off. Waves like Brooke Shields or the girl from One Day at a Time who married the guy from the band Eddie liked have instead of the bob she’s growing out now.

But it would grow and in the meantime she looked hot.

Stevie looked really hot. Swallowing around the saliva pooling in her mouth, she remembers she has a boyfriend to show that to.

Her first reward is the sight of Eddie's jaw dropped against the floor.

“You remember the other day, you were talking about how paladins could get leveled up so high they basically became gods too?”

Stevie knew that wasn't right, but she liked watching the nerd part of him war with the boyfriend part of him. One itching to correct the mistake and the other looking for a way for her to be correct in a roundabout way. Usually, it leaves him flushed and wide eyed, like his brain is overtaxed and with just a little more stress steam will start to burst from his ears to keep his brain from melting. Last week she had him arguing with the Party that humanoid didn't mean hobbits couldn't also be little rabbits.

She decides to take pity on him now, his wheels skidding blankly on wet road.

“I want you to worship me.”

He's agreeing, she thinks, before he's even sure what he's agreeing to. Dropping to his knees in front of her just like the worshiper she imagined: awe struck and devoted. Her divine intervention on his unfinished prayer kept him alive. Eddie Munson would let her kill him if she wanted to, if it suited her whims.

Good thing she wants to keep him for forever.

His hands slide up the back of her legs. She can feel the hot trail of them from the calf up to the thigh.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Presses a kiss to her knee, her thigh, the chain that covers her hip. “My hero, my knight.”

In the end, she didn’t need the blouse or the bra and panty set. She still has her chainmail on when she eases them both down onto the couch. Running her fingers through Eddie’s hair from his sweat damp temples to the tangling ends she’s careful to keep it from getting wrapped in the links while he rests on top of her.

“I don’t know where you came up with that, my lady, but I think that was the hottest thing to ever happen to me.”

She tugs at the end of his hair just to watch the way the lingering arousal dances across his face. “I got that from the way you creamed your jeans while you were playing with my clit.”

“I am but a man, my golden sun. When a paladin of Apollo is before me what can I do but show my utter devotion.”

“You liked it? It was good for you?”

Maybe it’s a testament to how good it was that Eddie isn’t immediately off the couch. He only shifts enough to rest his chin on her stomach. Looking her in the eyes or maybe at the bottom swell of her breasts.

“Steph, that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re a vision in everything you put on,” he assures, “but where did you even get this?”

“That’s the bad news, if you’re hoping for a better fitting part two I think I’m gonna have to give Dustin my measurements.”

[ladylaviniya]

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 4 || MasterList || Chapter 6

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. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[ineffablehogwash]

Needed a drawing prompt, and the first thing out of snagg's mouth was @revscarecrow in priest garb, so, uh, here we are.

[lemonsweet]

When I was little and my mom would brush my hair she'd always talk about how she needs to get the "snaggelys" (tangles) out of my hair but she'd talk about snaggles in hair so much (i had very easily tangled hair) that I thought snaggelys were actual living creatures made from hair knots that would form together at night or when I wasn't looking and it scared the shit out of me

[grim-ghou1]

ooc: SINCE YOU SHOWED ME SOME LOVELY FANTASY OCS IMMA SHOW YOU MINE

He goes by many names (because I couldn’t decide the name to sound like an ancient wolf tribe)

But His OG name was Snaggtooth,or Snagg for short. His other name is Snapptooth. Either one fits.

-Lupin🪄🐾

GIGGLES- THEO HERE CASH WILL BE FRONTING FOR THE REST IF THE WEEK BUT WE WILL DRAW THEMMMMMMMMM YIPPPOPEEEE

[lloydmustache]

🚨. New article

"While he dreams of family, his heart, for now, belongs to Dodger, his Boxer-mix rescue pup."

[star-shard]

More than Kissin’ Cousins

Josh Morgan x Jodie Tatum 

Premise: After the final song of the Tatum family jamboree, Jodie and Josh get to know each other a little better. And it starts with Josh wanting a more friendly wrestling match with his distant cousin. It gets hot and heavy. Note: NSFW, Horseplay, Frottage, Biting/Blood Drawn Words: 2.9 k

masterlist

A/N: Did I write this out of my ironic love of Kissin’ Cousins or as an excuse to make a fic about Elvis fucking himself? Both. Enjoy~

A party with the down home Tatums went on until the sun woke you up, and even then there was usually time for just one more round. Whether it be a round of drinks or a round in a fist fight. Everything had worked out in the little disagreement between the Tatums and the military. They’d allow their land to be used, and everyone would get paid. 

Which was not only good for Josh Morgan’s career, there was the promise of him being sent away if the mission failed, but he also gained new friends and even a new girl. Sure they were related, but it was so distant their family tree branches barely touched.

However, someone like Jodie Tatum might be evidence otherwise. Clearly whatever genes shaped their faces might just outlive the damn mountain. Spitting image was an understatement. Even if Jodie was a bit of a lunk at first. Challenging him to a wrestling match on sight was a hell of a hello. 

Nothing like music and moonshine to smooth things out. They could cut quite a duet and didn’t slow down until even the banjos started yawning. But there was enough energy for Jodie to have some fun with that solider girl that he paired with. She snuck him away and they did what rabbits did best right in a big shed.

With the music going from loud banging to sleepy plucks, one could hear the couple’s enthusiastic slightly drunk moaning. 

Meanwhile, Josh had a swig of that fantastic corn liquor and he couldn’t help but listen. Jodie even sort of sounded like him when he fucked. No, that wasn’t true. He was louder.

—

Josh felt a kick at his side. He must have dozed off for a spell. It couldn’t have been that long, it was still dark. But long enough that any party goers left standing before had either curled up on the ground or had driven home. Yet, there was cousin Jodie above him with a smug grin on his face. “Ain’t you a lightweight, Cousin Josh.” 

Josh mumbled something and rubbed at his eyes. He sat up in the pile of hay he must have slumped into, it was soft enough but he didn’t think he’d want to stay there all night. “I think a 200 pound wrestler would be a lightweight when it comes to this stuff,” he patted the jug next to him. Even as he tried his best not to go overboard it was a little like drinking gasoline. 

If anything, he was proud that he at least hadn’t passed out dead to the world like the other sorry bastards splayed around. In contrast his ‘cousin’ looked fresh as a daisy.

“I’m hard proof that ain’t true,” Jodie pointed to himself proudly. And well, why shouldn’t he be proud. Judging by the state of his lack of buttons and hurricane rocked blond hair, he’d had some wild rounds with his lady in the shed. 

There was something about Jodie, he was full of himself but there was sort of a good reason. He was tall, lean, and even if he may or may not be on some kind of watch list, there was probably a good heart there too.

Josh sat up and rubbed at his head, as if checking to see if it had split open yet. So far so good, “where’s your sister?” Seeing Jodie all sexed like that made it tempting to get in a nice night for himself as well. After all, this was a party. Of course he wouldn’t say his intentions about Jodie’s sister out loud, what with the guy being the protective type. 

“Shoot, she went to bed an hour ago. I’m the last man standing, like always.” Josh snorted at that, he’d been king of the mountain since he was a kid no doubt. Jodie was riding high, what with his name being screamed over and over not twenty minutes ago. He plopped down in the hay next to him and snagged the jug for a swig of his own.

The shaking of the hay bed made the world spin for a bit, Josh sort of slumped in next to him.

“Last man standing, huh? Is that why…” Josh looked him up and down with squinted eyes, “I kicked your ass first time we met?” It was a coy little jab, the buzzed feeling that warmed his whole body had him a little playful. It maybe wasn’t wise to poke a grizzly bear. But the way Jodie looked, he reminded him more of a teddy bear right now.

“Hey now, that was a rigged fight.. I was taken… by surprise, by that… pretty face of yours.” It was a compliment for himself, but the implication was there. Jodie nearly fumbled it the jug when he saw Josh bat his eye lashes, which made Josh giggle.

Maybe it was moonshine or moonlight, but Jodie sure did feel nice to be next to. With that cowboy shirt busted open Josh could see that he hadn’t earned a title of the family fighter for nothing. And this wasn’t just the drink getting to his head. Josh knew a pretty man just as well as he’d know a pretty lady…

“I bet I could still take you down,” Josh sat up and declared it giving Jodie’s chest a solid poke. He expected a little softness, but damn he was plain firm. 

Jodie chuckled, loving a challenge. The jug was tossed away and he spat like a country boy. “Oo, kid, you’re gonna eat those words.” It was a hell of a lot friendlier than their last fight. Jodie even gave him a hand to help him up. Which sort of just resulted in some stumbling into each other. This certainly wasn’t going to be any kind of title match, that was for sure. “I’ll get you pinned in ten seconds flat, lightweight.” 

Josh beckoned him lazily and that seemed more than enough for Jodie go all in. He went straight for a grapple. And while Josh had his combat training, right now in his tipsy head, all he could really think about were dance moves. And that wouldn’t really win any fights. Not with clothes on at least.

When Josh grappled back, his arms like cooked noodles, it looked like he’d be pinned in more like five seconds. Until he managed to get his fingers hooked on the loops of Jodie’s pants. And that got him enough leverage to keep from going straight backwards. “Gotcha.” Josh hummed. This close up, he smelled Jodie. “Your breath smells like ass…”

“I was just in one,” Jodie said casually back, which made Josh laugh out loud, and with the little weakness at the knees, Jodie got his upper hand and just as he promised, Josh got pinned down right in the little hay stack.

Well, he gave a silent sorry to the Air Force for that kind of smack down, but he was sure they’d understand. They’d be a little limp too if they siphoned their plain’s fuel tank right into their gullets. And now Jodie was perched on Josh’s hips like he was on the winners podium. 

“Told ya.” He leaned in, “you should get pinned more often, I’ll take you down whenever you want.” It was a gloat, but it sort of made Josh feel a little funny. That actually sounded pretty great. 

Now, Josh didn’t think he was an egotist… finding Jodie attractive right now, but he’d say they were pretty damn different, different enough. He let the thought slide. He’d let Jodie slide anywhere. He turned pink just at that idea crossing his mind and he felt just fine being down here.

“Ah hell, cousin… you really wanted to see my sister, didn’t ya?” Oh fuck, Josh didn’t realize it, but he was getting hard under him. He wondered if they’d laugh it off together, but right now he had the weirdest idea, that he wanted to see this play out.

Josh had done some horseplay before, but always told himself not to let things get too far… but right now? With a little liquid courage and a man that seemed perfectly comfortable using him as a seat? He went right on and said it out loud, “she’s not here right now.”

Jodie rose an eyebrow, but then smirked, intrigued. He loved a good ego stroking. “Oh, you’re just liking what you see. Can’t blame ya.” 

Maybe it was crazy but… no one was watching, a canon could go off and there’d still be snoring around. And besides, thought out decisions were for the woefully sober. They could think tomorrow, if it ever came.

Josh reached up for Jodie’s shirt and pulled him down into a kiss, short at first, and they both chuckled to break some tension. That could have just been a joke. But then there came another one, longer this time. And by the time Jodie started pulling away on that one, Josh clung to his shirt to make it last longer for just one more second.

Their breathing was synced. Nerves, arousal, curiosity… self love.

And Josh said it, “pin me.” 

“…Like this?” Jodie’s hand went on his chest, pressing down.

“Harder.”

“Like… this?” Jodie’s voice was getting lowered now, deeper as his hands went lower for another shove. And when it looked like Josh was going to ask for more again, Jodie this time paired a push of his hands with a grinding of his hips, full body. 

Jodie was seeing double because Josh just fucking moaned from the friction. Son of a bitch sounded just like him, except a little quieter. Soft like. Lucky for him, Jodie liked soft. He liked to make soft things desperate. 

His rode on him again, and his arms held Josh down. If ever Josh came up for a kiss, he’d get a push back down and have to wait for Jodie to come down for it. The wait might have made it even better. Ass didn’t taste so bad after all, Josh discovered, especially when Jodie’s tongue was involved. And you’d think the man was trying to hollow out Josh’s mouth like he were a pumpkin. 

The humping was perfect for Josh’s limp energy level, but with Jodie going like a steam roller, he might just cum in his pants right here and now. “Wait- they’re, new… I don’t wanna mess them up.”

And that gave Jodie a great idea. Undoing Josh’s belt and tossing it aside, freeing up his dick to stand up in the cool night air. “Hang on, I gotta know.” Jodie’s cock was out not a second later and he held them together. Oh, the very sight got Josh bucking but Jodie held him down still to measure.

“Half an inch shorter,” he declared, eyeing Josh.

“You’re so full of it,” Josh said with a jagged smile. And the smirking comment along with that perfectly styled black hair now gone amuck, must have really gotten the blond going because he squeezed his cock which got him back to being a mess.

Which just drew Jodie right back down, but this time going for Josh’s neck which looked like it needed biting. Every Tatum worth their pepper was good at biting. And this made Josh kick from under his cousin. This bastard was all canines, it was like a dog’s mouth, but Josh was the one left howling. 

“How’d you feel about staying a while, Joshie?” He asked cutely, “I could keep you around, we could wrestle all the time.”

Oh, he pictured it. Switching between whatever Tatum sibling was feeling frisky, and of course Jodie providing lip in more ways than one. Fuck, he could do that sober. And when he sobered up, he was sure he could show Jodie some tricks too.  

His dick twitched and Jodie kept them together as they both found their friction and their rhythm. Just like that duet, they really fucking hit it. “Come on, pretty. Come on,” Jodie groaned. Josh looked at the man above him he saw Jodie had blood on his lips. He’d broken skin and red had never looked so good.

It was when Jodie licked his lips though, tasted him, that’s what did it. Josh came and Jodie wasn’t far behind, groaning loud and proud. If the goal was to keep from getting cum everywhere, the goal post had moved because it was white and it splattered.

And it was Jodie’s groan that must have finally found a sound barrier that got someone awake. Because the recognizable southern type of ‘what in the Sam Hill,’ was uttered not too far away. It was only a deer in headlights for a moment before it was followed with muttering about a broken sink. Someone was talking in their sleep.

They looked back at each other, and it made them do some silent laughing, like a couple of boys fresh off some trouble making. Still out of breath, still hot off an orgasm. Josh, put a finger to his lips doing a shushing motion but that quickly fell apart when his head went back. That was crazy, all of it. 

“Damn Jackson Polluck” Josh muttered, looking down at the mess on himself, and the soft dicks between them. 

Jodie rose an eyebrow, who the hell was that, “Jackson Potluck ain’t here, don’t you be naming other guys. Hush up, now, you’re a mess…” That little scarf around his neck was put to good use in cleaning them up. Soft and silky, though anyone with eyes might see a little evidence left over. 

The killing move might have been Jodie then tying the cummed up scarf around Josh’s neck, “to hide the bite marks,” he told him. Wasn’t he resourceful. 

“Do I look like you when I got this on?” Josh asked playfully, his eyes half lidded. Nothing like some alcohol and dick rubbing to get him nice and sleepy.

Jodie thought a second, looking at his messed up black hair, those doe eyes, “you look like a sex machine… so yeah.” And the last thing Josh remembered was closing his eyes and curling up in the hay stack. And he felt arms around him, ones that held him tight from behind, as if Josh would even think of going anywhere. 

—

A rooster waking him up wasn’t the cock he was expecting. Josh rubbed his eyes and was quickly met with the unmistakable hammer to the eyes that was a moonshine hangover. The events of last night took a minute to come back to him in order, but the wrestling was still fresh on his mind. He half expected for Jodie to still be attached to him big spoon style but was only met with a chicken that had roosted behind him. 

Josh sat up, now he was pretty damn sure of what happened and all it took was a tug around his neck to reassure him. The scarf was still there. 

When he heard the unmistakable sound of a girl squealing the first thing he did was look down at himself. And thank god Jodie had been mannerly enough to tuck him back into his pants at least. The squealing had come from some of the Kittyhawk girls naturally. A robust clan to bounce back that fast.

And upon seeing Josh’s bewildered little look, they giggled at him. He didn’t look obvious, did he? He was just glad that the Tatum sisters hadn’t seen him yet. It’d be a little hard to explain. He’d deal with that when he came to it…

After some less than graceful stumbling around asking where the good ol’ boy Jodie had gone, he felt a clap against his shoulder. “Morning, sleeping beauty,” followed by a whistle. “What happened to you?”

Jodie however had already changed shirts, it was red and checked. And that blond mop top had been tamed once again, no one would be the wiser and now Josh felt a little embarrassed for looking like one of the barn animals. 

And now he had himself wondering, was Jodie going to pretend it never happened? He supposed he saw it coming, so why did he feel a little disappointed. “Not much, I guess.” He thought that maybe it should be left as a one time thing. After all, it wasn’t like they’d said I love you.

But just as Josh was about to sulk his way back to one of the military jeeps for a change of clothes, Jodie crooked his finger into that blue scarf and pulled him back. “Woah there, you’re not going anywhere until you help clean up.” The Tatum home did look pretty windswept. Jugs, broken plates, a hoedown war zone.

"I was just going to get a clean shirt," Josh said.

"Brooms are this way" Jodie mentioned like he hadn't heard him and walked along expecting Josh to follow.

Josh sighed, what was this about now. With hands in his pockets he followed behind, kicking a rock or two on the way. “Okay, where are they,” he said glumly as soon as the other victims of a corn liquor hangover were out of eat shot.

And in a second Jodie had Josh’s back to the cool morning metal of the shed. “Damn… I’m gonna set a new record in pinnin’ ya.” He smirked. Josh grinned.

Josh didn’t have to clear out for a couple more days. More than enough time to squeeze in plenty of wrestling… 

[lieutenant-rasczak]

Today in 1944.....

[mollyrosaline]

Snagglepuss Babe

Snaggs found a hat backstage. Who could it belong to?

Posted using PostyBirb

[nakeddeparture]

Barbados. Fred Corbin is being asked to ‘stay in his lane’.

https://youtu.be/9GIfFqPS9M0

He was caught lying about the Snagg matter. Spreading misinformation to fool Bajans. I already told you: trust no one! Listen to the video. Naked!!

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