“Listen to him, Hallow,” Jex murmurs, his voice a dark, velvety caress that contrasts with the Mayor’s shrill screaming. “He still thinks he has a vote. He still thinks his words have weight.”
He unzips his jeans. The sound of the metal teeth parting is loud in the cramped, clinical space. He moves with an agonising slowness, peeling the denim back, and I find myself looking down, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard it hurts.
He’s magnificent. And he’s terrifying.
His cock springs free, heavy and thrumming with a dark, kinetic heat. It’s thick—a brutal, corded muscle that looks like it was carved from the same hard, unyielding stone as his heart. The skin is a deep, flushed bronze, the veins wrapping around the shaft like a map of the violence we’ve survived. A single, clear drop of pre-cum glistensat the tip, reflecting the harsh LED light like a diamond in the dirt.
“Jex… oh god,” I whisper, my head lolling back against the strap.
He steps closer, moving between my spread, tethered ankles. He doesn’t go for the kill. He teases. He takes the head of his cock and drags it—slow, wet, and heavy—along the inside of my thigh. The friction is electric, a white-hot brand against my sensitive skin.
“Look at it, Dad,” Jex growls, his hand reaching out to grab the Mayor’s chin, forcing his pinned gaze back to the apex of my legs. “This is the only thing your daughter wants now. Not your money. Not your legacy. Just me.”
“I’ll kill you!” He screams, his chest heaving, his body convulsing against the restraints until the monitors start to wail a frantic, high-pitched alarm. “I’ll kill you both! You’re filth! Subhuman… filth!”
Jex ignores the insults, his focus entirely on the space between us. He brings the head of his cock up, pressing it firmly against my clit, but he doesn’t push inside. He just grinds, a slow, circular motion that makes my vision go grey at the edges.
I let out a broken, shameful moan, my pussy weeping even faster, the slick, hot fruit of my arousal dripping directly onto my father’s trembling lips.
“See that, Dad?” Jex rasps, his eyes locked onto mine, his thumb dragging through the moisture on my inner lip. “She’s so wet for me she’s drowning you. Every time you scream, she gets tighter. Every time you swear, she wants it deeper.”
He leans in, his chest pressing against my knees,his breath hot and smelling of salt and Earl Grey. He takes the tip of his cock and pokes at my opening, teasing the entrance, retreating just as I start to arch my hips toward him.
“Please,” I sob, my tears falling onto my father’s wide, horrified eyes. “Jex… please… I can’t… I need it…”
“Tell him, Hallow,” Jex commands, his hand sliding up to grip my throat, his thumb pressing into the pulse point. “Tell the Mayor exactly what you want the monster to do to you while he watches.”
I’m vibrating in the straps, my body a bowstring pulled so tight I’m afraid I’ll snap. The cold fluorescent light is unforgiving, turning the sweat on my skin into a shimmering, oily film. Below me, dad is a frantic, pinned animal, his chest heaving under the weight of his own suffocating rage.
“I want it,” I sob, the words tearing out of me, amplified by the PA system still humming in the background. My voice is raw, a shredded thing that doesn’t belong to a daughter anymore. “I want you to take me, Jex. Right here. In his face. I want him to see what he made.”
He lets out a gargled, high-pitched shriek of denial, his head thrashing against the foam stabiliser until the skin of his temples starts to chafe and bleed. “No! You… you whore! You’re… you’re my blood!”
“Your blood is on the floor, Dad,” Jex growls, his voice a low, terrifying vibration that cuts through the Mayor’s screaming.
He stops the teasing. He reaches out, his large, calloused hands gripping my hips with a bruising force, his thumbs digging into the soft meat of my waist to anchor me. He positions himself, the broad, throbbinghead of his cock pressing firmly against my opening, stretching the sensitive tissue until I’m whimpering with the sheer, agonising pressure of him.
“Watch, Dad,” Jex commands, his eyes fixed on our father’s pinned-open gaze. “Watch the only thing your daughter will ever remember about you.”
He thrusts.
It’s not a gentle entry. It’s a conquest. He slides into me in one heavy, unrelenting surge, his thick, corded length filling every hollowed-out, aching inch of my body. I let out a sharp, shattered cry, my head thumping back against the ceiling strap as my internal muscles clamp around him in a frantic, starving seizure.
“Oh god… Jex… Jex!”
He doesn’t stop. He starts to move—a slow, rhythmic, and devastatingly deep grind. Every time he seats himself, the base of his cock slams against my clit, sending a white-hot shockwave of pleasure-pain straight to my brain. The gurney beneath us groans under the weight, the metal screeching in time with my gasps.
“You like that, Hallow?” Jex rasps, his breath hot and ragged against my neck. “You like how he has to watch every inch of me disappearing inside you?”
I can’t speak. I can only moan, a low, guttural sound of surrender. I’m bucking against the straps, my pussy weeping a hot, frantic slickness that coats his shaft and drips down onto my father’s face, mixing with the Mayor’s tears and the sweat of his terror.
He is sobbing now, a broken, whistling sound behind his mask, his eyes darting frantically as he’s forced to bear witness to the rhythmic, visceral friction of our bodies. He’s watching the way my skin flushes, the way mybreasts bounce with every one of Jex’s lunges, the way I’m clinging to the man who’s destroying the last shred of his dignity.
“Is he still swearing, Hallow?” Jex mocks, his pace accelerating, his thrusts becoming more violent, more possessive. “Or is he finally starting to understand that he’s just the audience for our masterpiece?”
I’m reaching the cliff again, the pressure building into a blinding, electric storm. The contrast is total—the clinical cold of the ambulance, the heat of Jex’s body, and the shattered, pathetic wreck of the man who sold us both.
“Jex… now… I’m… I’m going to?—”
