A quick disclaimer concerning the nature of this story, which leans heavily into reluctance, dubious consent, and rough sex territory. The story contains elements of rough oral sex. All persons in this story are above the age of eighteen. As always, I appreciate all of the constructive criticism and support shown thus far. Thank you.
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Standing, staring into the mirror in her bathroom, Chloe didn't hear the knock on the downstairs door. Instead, her thoughts raced as she touched up her make up, preparing for a night out shopping with her mother.
She gently tidied up the last of a light covering of lipstick, easing the tube over bruised lips. She winced, and her mind flashed to her ex-boyfriend's massive dick smashing into her face the night before. Putting the lipstick away, she quickly powdered her nose, which twitched with the memory of pubes tickling her face, as her throat stretched to accept the invading member. Lastly, she tidied up her mascara, remembering the feeling of tears, saliva, and cum streaming into her upside-down face.
Chloe looked at herself in the mirror, amazed that the cute, petite 19-year-old smiling back didn't display a shiny of the throat-fucking she'd experienced just 24-hours prior. Sure, her throat still burned, and her jaw ached, but all anyone could see was her heart-shaped mouth, button nose and big blue doe eyes, framed by a halo of straight blonde hair.
She wore a black turtleneck, tight, which more than covered her perky, bruised tits. A black skirt above knee length stockings showed just an inch or two of her slim, pale white thighs.
Not even a hint. Still, she stood, transfixed, awash with feelings from the night before. Mr. Hargrave. Tony Hargrave. Her ex-boyfriends father. He'd seduced her, easily, then gone on to violently plunder her mouth, her throat. Twice.
And she had accepted it, offered it, asked for it. For whatever reason, Chloe had burned to please him, to satisfy him. She still couldn't understand it, couldn't comprehend the swirling maelstrom of feelings that she still felt. Anger, despair, shame, submission. Arousal.
At least it wouldn't happen again, Chloe thought.
Her mother's voice broke her trance, calling up from downstairs.
'Chloe, you have a visitor.'
Confused, Chloe went downstairs, wondering which of her friends had chosen to swing by unexpectedly. Alice had mentioned she might be free tonight, but also said she'd probably catch a movie with Jesse, or Taylor.
As she reached the landing, she stopped, stunned.
'Chloe,' the figure in the door intoned. 'You're looking well.'
As Chloe stood like a deer in the headlights, staring at the tall figure of Tony Hargrave, her mother stepped in.
'Mr. Hargrave, it's so nice of you to swing by. Chloe, Mr. Hargrave was just dropping off some things that you left in James' room. How kind of him.'
Chloe, still at a loss for words, failed to notice the way her mother doted over the broad, blocky, dark-haired man. She didn't fail to notice the way Mr. Hargrave's eyes slid across her body, exploring every inch of her.
She blushed, deeply, and he looked her dead in the eye, his gaze intense. The look made Chloe waiver, started a burning in her belly, a need. She looked down.
'It's just one suitcase,' Mr. Hargrave said. 'It is, however, quite heavy, so why don't you show me to your room Chloe, and I'll carry it for you.'
Chloe swallowed, her mouth dry.
The big man turned to her mother, 'Don't worry, Mrs. Hart. I won't keep her too long.'
Chloe's mother swooned, leaning into him, and waving away his statement as if it were the greatest joke in the world, before dashing off, no doubt to touch up her own makeup.
Mr. Hargrave turned to face Chloe, and she felt her knees weakening.
He gestured behind her. 'After you.'
Without an option, Chloe turned, feeling his gaze crawling up her skirt, over her body, searing through the back of her head.
She started walking, slowly, each step on the staircase feeling like a gavel pounding. Chloe could swear the man radiated heat, and she felt a trickle of sweat slide delicately down the inside of her right leg, tickling her maddeningly.
When she reached the doorway to her room, Mr. Hargrave loomed behind her, his figure blocking the light from the hallway, his shadow enveloping her.
Chloe stepped in.
Tony followed.
He closed the door behind him, placing the suitcase by the door.
As she turned on her bedside nightlight, Chloe felt Mr. Hargrave take a step towards her. She turned to face him and realised that he was within touching distance. All she had to do was reach out, and she could feel him.
So, once again, Chloe found herself in the shadow of Mr. Hargrave, the man towering over her as she futilely tried to resist his hold over her.
'We've got a bit of time before your mother gets suspicious, don't we Chloe.'
Chloe looked at the door, at the clock on her nightstand, at Tony's broad chest standing in front of her. She couldn't look him in the eye.
'Umm, I'm sorry Mr. Hargrave, but I told Mum I'd be right down.'
Tony took a step towards her, and she made the mistake of looking him in the eyes. As she did, in that fleeting moment, her will crumbled, and she dropped her gaze to the floor.
Overcome by subservience, fear, and lust, Chloe did as Tony knew she would. Chloe submitted.
'Umm. Okay. I guess.'
'Strip.' Tony said. 'But leave the skirt on.'
Chloe paused, breathing deeply, steeling herself. Then, she set about meeting his demands, peeling off layers until her chest stood bare in the cool air of her room, nipples hard, pert tits high on her chest.
'Panties too, leave the stockings,' Tony added, and Chloe bent down, peeling her panties down quickly, eager to please him.
'Have you ever had a man bring you to orgasm, Chloe.'
Mortified, Chloe flushed bright red, before shaking her head.
Mr. Hargrave started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a large belly, fat over hard muscle, all covered in dark hair.
