I tried to play along, stuttering out, “No, please—don’t,” struggling weakly as Greyson lunged forward, grabbing my arm, but it came out sounding more like a cheesy porn instead of what I was going for.
I twisted, putting up a show of resistance, but Greyson was stronger, pinning me against the car hood as he tore off a strip of tape with his teeth.
“Be quiet,” Daddy hissed, slapping the tape over my mouth in one swift motion. It sealed my lips tight, muffling my feigned cries. I thrashed, the pain and dominance making my hole clench in anticipation. “Be a good boy, and I won’t have to hurt you too bad.”
He wrenched my arms behind my back, wrapping tape around my wrists multiple times, the adhesive pulling at my skin. I bucked, kicking out, but Daddy dodged and seized my ankles next, forcing them together and rendering me immobile.
I whimpered and let myself relax against the hood of the car.
“That’s it, don’t fight it,” Daddy murmured, his breath hot against my ear, clearly just as aroused by the roleplay as I was. “I’m going to take such good fucking care of you.”
He hoisted me up like a ragdoll, muscles flexing as he manhandled me toward the backseat door, which he must’ve cracked open earlier. I wriggled in his grip, but it was futile;Daddy shoved me inside, face down on the leather, ass up in the air.
“Pretty little whore,” he crooned. “Always teasing me, goading me into this. So desperate for me to force this tight little ass open.”
The door slammed shut, and Daddy climbed in behind me, the confined space amplifying every sound, every touch. He yanked my hips back, spreading my cheeks roughly. No lube, no prep. My muffled whimpers turned to moans behind the tape as his thick cock pressed against my rim, demanding entry.
God, he was going to fucking wreck me.
He thrust in hard, burying himself to the hilt in one savage push. My body arched, the burn of the stretch tearing a scream from me, pain lancing through my core.
It hurt so good.
Daddy didn’t hold back, pounding into me with brutal force, each slam jolting my body forward, my taped wrists digging into my back, ankles locked uselessly.
“Fuck, you take it so well,” Greyson grunted, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, pulling me back onto every deep plunge. “Your pussy was fucking made for me.”
His balls slapped against my taint, the wet sounds of skin on skin filling the car. I loved it—the agony twisting into ecstasy, my prostate being hammered relentlessly, building pleasure amid the discomfort. I pushed back as much as I could, chasing the hurt, my cock trapped against the seat, grinding friction adding to the overload.
Daddy’s pace quickened, breaths becoming ragged, as he rasped, “You’re mine forever, Lane. All fucking mine. My pretty, filthy baby.”
I nodded the best I could, given the situation, but it would’ve been hard to see it since my whole body was being thrust back and forth across the seats.
He didn’t need to see my nod, though, to know I felt the same.
He knew I’d fucking kill for him, just as he would kill for me.
My world quickly narrowed to the cock splitting me open, the exquisite pain blooming into overwhelming bliss. I came first, my release spilling onto the seat in thick spurts, body convulsing around Greyson’s shaft.
The clench pulled him over the edge; with a guttural groan, he buried deep and unloaded, flooding my ass with pulse after pulse of cum, marking me from the inside out.
Panting, Daddy held still a moment, savoring the aftershocks, then pulled out slowly, his cock slick with cum. I whimpered sadly at the sudden emptiness, but thankfully Greyson wasn’t done. He reached into the side pocket of the door, pulling out a thick butt plug, flared base gleaming.
I needed to remember to ask him why the fuck he had these things readily available in his car.
“I know, baby, you hate being empty,” he cooed, pressing the tip to my abused hole. My rim resisted at first, but he twisted the tip in firmly, and then there it was. I moaned behind the tape, the fullness overwhelming, a delicious ache settling in.
Daddy leaned over me, hand stroking my sweat-damp back possessively. “Good boy. Now, you’re going to stay back here as I finish driving us home. Think about which bath bomb you want in your bath when we get there.”
V
Topping from the Bottom
Josh becomes obsessed with the fantasy of Dorian wearing a corset after seeing a thirst trap on Lane’s phone. When Dorian discovers what Josh has been hiding, he decides to reward him with a change in positions.
Content Warnings: BDSM elements, flogging, use of nicknames such as “big brother” and “little brother” in a sexual context between ex-adoptive brothers (no blood or legal relation), male corset, vers-dynamic with strict Dom/sub roles
13
