>>6368559

He chuckles. The victory in his voice makes her feel like she made the wrong choice.

"Ask one of those men to dance with you."

She whips her face towards him. Looks at him in shock. She can't even find the words to ask if he's serious.

He's grinning.

She starts shaking her head. "John, that's going too far."

"It's just a dance. Unless you'd rather fuck them."

"No!"

"Does that mean yes?"

She shakes her head.

"It's opposite day. You'd better fix your answer, or I'm going to have them tie you up and rape you tonight."

She whimpers.

"Do you want them to rape you?"

He runs his hands over her thighs and stomach.

"Hmm?" he asks.

"Um…yes?" she whispers.

"What's that?" he grins.

"Yes," she says.

"Say it. Tell me what you want."

"I want them…to rape me," she says. Her core clenches. Her mind spins. She doesn't know what she's saying, but it's opposite day, and he would never let that happen anyway…

"Good girl," he says. He kisses her neck. "Now tell me how you want them to rape you."

Her head lolls back. The alcohol is really getting to her. "I don't know, Daddy."

"Do you want them to blindfold you so you can't see how many of them there are?"

He puts his right hand into her cardigan again. She gasps.

"No—I mean, yes," she breathes.

He lazily massages her breast.

"Do you want them to tie you up so you can't fight them?"

"N—um…yes…" she gasps.

"Do you want them to gag you so you can't scream as they take turns raping your delicate little cunt?"

"Yes, Daddy…" she whimpers.

He holds her nipple between his thumb and middle finger. With his index finger, he brushes the very tip of her nipple. It's so sensitive that the teasing is like torture.

She gasps and squirms.

He growls. He keeps her nipple pinched between his fingers. He keeps teasing the tip of it. Aggravating her pleasure.

"Daddy, you're going to make me come," she whimpers.

"Do it," he says.

She comes. Pleasure tingles in her nipples, her sex, her compromised mind. Her head falls back on his shoulder. Her back arches. Her chest thrusts forward. Still, he keeps his fingers on her nipple. He molests it through the duration of her orgasm.

>>6368565

She sinks back against him.

"Good girl," he croons. "Coming so hard for Daddy as you think about getting raped by other men."

His words hit her in the core of her chest. They're so naughty. So wrong.

"Now go ask for that dance," he says.

After that last orgasm, she can barely keep her eyes open. "No, Daddy," she slurs.

He moves to the end of the bench. He stands up and pulls her upright.

"Which one are you going to ask?" he says.

She looks at him with wide eyes. He really means it.

She looks around the club. How is she supposed to pick someone?

"Choose carefully, little girl," he says.

What is that supposed to mean?

"Daddy, let's just go home," she says.

He can see she's slurring her words. Her stance is unsteady. Her eyes are unfocused. She's so vulnerable, and he loves it.

"Not until you've danced with another man," he says.

"But why, Daddy?" she whines. She leans against him. Clings to his shirt. "I belong to you. Only you."

He smiles. "I know. And that means I get to do whatever I want with you, and you're going to do whatever I say. Do you understand?"

She pouts. But she nods.

He grips her wrists and pulls her hands off of his shirt. He angles her towards the room.

"Go," he says.

She takes timid steps away from him. Timid, teetering steps. She holds her arms around her body. Her cardigan is so low up top and so high down low that she feels as good as naked. She looks around. There's the group of men who were watching her before. She looks away in embarrassment. She keeps walking, but she somehow doesn't walk in a straight line.

She finds herself in front of them. If she could count right know, she'd know that there are five of them.

"How are you doing tonight, babe?" one of them asks. "What can we do you for?"

"Um…" She turns around to look at John. He's just standing there and grinning.

"Is your boyfriend gonna beat us up for talking to his girl?" another one says.

Not my boyfriend, she thinks hazily. "No," she says. "Could I ask…if one of you would dance with me?" Her words are slurred.

"What was that, babe?"

"I want…I want to dance," she says. She loses her balance. She stumbles forward into their arms. Into nothingness.

~

Mary wakes up to the feeling of her sex being ravaged.

She tries to scream. To struggle. To open her eyes. But she can't. Something's covering her mouth. Her eyes. Her arms are tied behind her back. Her ankles are bound. She's face down on a hard floor, and someone is taking her from behind.

"Oh, fuck yes," she hears. She panics harder. It's not John's voice.

She screams again into the cloth. Her scream is muffled.

Her body rebounds from the man's thrusting. Her sex is throbbing with sensation.

She feels a slap on her bottom. Another slap.

"Where's your boyfriend now?" he says.

She feels the man lean down against her body. She hears his panting. His tongue swirls into her ear. She screams another muffled scream.

She feels a hand pull the cloth down from her mouth. She screams with all her might. She sobs.

His lips assault her lips. He nips the side of her chin with his teeth.

The man sits back up. He lifts her hips so she's kneeling. Her cheek is pressed to the floor. He pounds into her exposed sex. She sobs hysterically. The blindfold is wet with her tears.

"Come on my cock, you fucking slut," the man says.

She can't help it. She comes. This is what her body responds to. Being used. Being raped.

Her orgasm is sharp and charged. Violent. Fiery. Her sobs become moans.

"Fuck!" She hears the man come. A moan. Another moan. A sigh.

Her head spins with pleasure, intoxication, and now confusion. The man sounds like John.

The man turns her on her side. She hears him laugh. It's John's laugh. The blindfold is torn from her face. She looks up at him. It is John. She's on the floor of his apartment.

She sobs in relief. "Oh, John," she sniffles. "I thought…"

He keeps laughing. "You thought you were really being raped?"

She nods. Tears keep dripping from her eyes.

"Thought you'd get that lucky, huh? Which one did you hope it was? The blonde one?" he grins.

He starts untying her arms and ankles.

"That's the one I got to record the lines," he says. He holds up his phone. "Such a helpful guy."

She doesn't say anything. She's still trembling from the intensity of it all.

He picks her up from the floor. He carries her to his bedroom. Lays her in his bed.

He kisses her forehead. He goes out to turn off all the lights. He comes back and lies crawls into bed next to her. He cuddles her under the blankets. Strokes her hair.

She knew the Playeur liked to joke, but what he did tonight was cruel. She really thought she was being raped.

>>6368568

And it made her come so hard. She's more of a sinner than she thought. What if it really were one of the men from the club? What if all of his friends were there, too? The thought makes her shiver with fear. And not just fear.

But whether or not she liked it, how could he do that to her? How could someone play a prank so cruel? It wasn't an act of love. Of course it wasn't, she reminds herself. He doesn't love you.

The reminder hurts. But it should. She's a sinner. She deserves to be punished.

She prays to God. She tells Him how sorry she is.

Her tears keep falling.

~

Last night, Mary awoke to her sex being pounded. This morning, she awakes to her hair being pet.

She opens her eyes. She sees John looking at her.

He kisses her forehead. "Good morning, baby girl."

"Good morning, Daddy," she says quietly. Her body feels lazy. Her mind feels heavy, and the aftereffect of the alcohol isn't the only weight on it. "What time is it?"

He picks his phone up from the nightstand. "Eleven," he says.

"Oh, no! I missed Mass! I need to make the noon service," she says.

She quickly gets out of bed. Too quickly. Her head was already muddled, but now the blood rushes out of it. She loses her balance. In a flash, he sits up and catches her as she falls back onto the bed.

"Careful, baby girl," he says.

"Sorry," she says.

He pulls her back against him. Lies her back down onto the bed.

"No," she whines playfully.

"Any chance I can convince you to skip church today?" he asks.

She giggles. "Any chance I can convince you to come to church with me?"

He laughs. "What's in it for me? And don't say salvation."

She laughs. "You don't have to come. But I have to go." She tries to release his grip on her waist. He lets her pull his arms a little bit away. But then he makes an X with her arms and holds them tightly against her chest. She gasps.

He holds both of her arms with his left hand. He trails his right hand up her thigh.

"No—Daddy, I need to go," she says.

She squirms, but he holds her against his body. His hand touches her clit. She gasps.

"John, I mean it," she breathes. "Red."

His hand freezes. Then he pulls it away and lets go of her.

"It's really that important to you, huh?" he says.

He abruptly gets out of bed.

"John," she says. She didn't mean to make him mad.

"Shower's that way, your clothes are there," he points. He doesn't look at her.

"John, I'm sorry," she pleads.

"Go on, you're late," he says.

"I'll come back right after," she says.

"Don't bother."

He pulls on some boxers and walks out of the room.

She just stands there. A minute ago, she was reveling in his compassion. Now all she's sensing is revulsion. He doesn't want her there. He doesn't want her.

He doesn't love you, the reminder echoes again. And now you've gone and made him angry. She starts to cry, but she's quiet. She quickly gets dressed. Every article of clothing feels tainted.

She goes to the kitchen. He's there. She doesn't look at him as she walks to the door. She wonders if he's going to say anything. She wants him to say something. She wants him to say anything. He's silent.

She looks down. She mumbles through her tears, "It's okay if you never want to see me again. This has still been the most fun I've ever had."