Fantasy, Authoritarian, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Dark fiction, Job/Place-of-work, Male / Female Teens, Older Male / Female, Oral Sex, Written by women, Young
Thursday morning arrived with the kind of nervous anticipation that made my stomach flutter. I stood in front of my wardrobe, flipping through skirts, denim, pleated, a floral one Mum had bought me last summer, before settling on the shortest denim one I owned. My thighs were still faintly marked from Tuesday, but the sting had faded into something almost pleasurable when I brushed my fingers over the tender spots.
The shop bell jingled as I stepped inside, Gary had left the door unlocked for me. He was hunched over the counter, scribbling something in a ledger, but looked up the moment I entered. His eyes darkened as they travelled down my bare legs. "Good girl," he murmured, then jerked his chin toward the back room. "Come here."
The air between us crackled as I followed him into the dim back room, my bare thighs brushing together with each step. Gary shut the door behind us with a soft click, then turned to me with that look, the one that made my pulse skip. He didn’t speak, just reached out and hooked a finger under the hem of my skirt, lifting it slightly. "No knickers again?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
I shook my head, biting my lip as his fingers traced higher up my thigh. "Good girl," he growled, pulling me against him so suddenly that I gasped. His mouth crashed onto mine, hungry and demanding, while his hands slid under my skirt to grip my bare ass. The roughness of his touch sent shivers through me, part fear, part thrill, as he backed me against the filing cabinet. Metal dug into my spine, but I barely noticed.
Gary's fingers dug into my hips as he breathed the words against my neck, sending a ripple of confusion through me. "John will be visiting soon," he murmured, teeth grazing my earlobe. "I want you to be extra nice to him."
I pulled back slightly, searching his face. "Nice...how?" My voice came out smaller than I intended, my fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.
Gary chuckled, low and knowing, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. "Use that pretty mouth of yours." The implication coiled hot in my stomach, but before I could respond, the shop bell jingled out front. Gary's grip tightened briefly, then released. "Go on," he said, swatting my bare backside. "And remember...no knickers makes everything easier."
The bell's echo still hung in the air as I smoothed my skirt and stepped into the shopfront. John leaned against the counter, flipping through a stack of red-cased videos with an idle smirk. His gaze flicked up, lingering on my legs before meeting my eyes. "Beth," he drawled. "Looking very... accommodating today."
My fingers trembled as I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Gary's in the back," I managed, nodding toward the storeroom door.
John didn’t move toward the back room. Instead, he set the videos down and leaned closer over the counter, his cologne, something musky and expensive, washing over me. "I was hoping to talk to you first," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. His fingertips brushed the back of my hand, sending an unexpected jolt up my arm. "Gary’s been telling me how…eager you’ve been lately."
John’s fingers traced idle circles on my wrist as he spoke, the touch deceptively casual. "You ever wonder what’s in those red cases?" he asked, nodding toward the shelf behind me where Gary kept his "special orders." My breath hitched, I’d snooped around for them before, finding nothing but dusty receipts and old stock.
John's hand slid higher, his fingers now tracing the inside of my forearm. "Gary's got a little collection back there," he murmured. "Things he doesn't put on the shelves for just anyone." His thumb pressed into my pulse point, and I realized with a flush that he could feel how fast my heart was racing.
John's grin widened as he saw the flush creeping up my neck. He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "You should ask Gary to show you sometime," he whispered. "I think you'd like them." Before I could respond, the storeroom door creaked open, and Gary's footsteps echoed across the floor.
"John, good to see you." Gary's voice carried a strange edge as he emerged from the back room, wiping his hands on a rag that he tossed onto the counter. His eyes flicked between us, lingering on where John's fingers still grazed my wrist. "Beth, remember what we talked about?"
My throat went dry as Gary's gaze pinned me in place. "Yes, Daddy," I murmured, slipping my wrist from John's lingering touch. The older man chuckled, low and knowing, as he scooped up his videos.
Gary's hand settled heavy on the small of my back as he nudged me toward the storeroom door. "Why don't you show John the stockroom?" he murmured, fingers slipping under my skirt to pinch bare skin. My stomach flipped, this wasn't just an invitation. It was an order.
John straightened, tossing the red-cased videos back onto the counter with a clatter. "Now that sounds promising," he said, eyes glinting as he stepped around the counter. I hesitated, glancing at Gary, who gave me that look, the one that made my knees weak, before nodding toward the back.
The storeroom door clicked shut behind us, sealing me in with John and the scent of old VHS tape plastic. He didn’t waste time, one hand tangled in my hair, the other pressing firm between my shoulder blades until my knees hit the concrete floor. "Gary said you’ve been practicing," he murmured, his grip tightening as he unzipped his trousers. The sound of the zipper seemed obscenely loud in the cramped space.
I didn’t resist as he guided my head forward, the heat of him already brushing my lips. "Open," he commanded, and I obeyed, my mouth stretching around him as he pushed in. Unlike Gary, John didn’t ease me into it, he rocked his hips forward in one smooth motion until I felt him hit the back of my throat. Tears pricked at my eyes instantly, my fingers scrabbling at his thighs as I fought the reflex to gag.
"That’s it," John groaned, his fingers twisting tighter in my hair. "Good girl." He didn’t thrust, just held himself deep, letting me adjust to the stretch of him, the weight on my tongue. When he finally pulled back slightly, it was only to push forward again, slower this time, his thumb tracing the spit-slick corner of my mouth. "Look at you," he murmured, watching my lips stretch around him with rapt attention. "Gary wasn’t exaggerating."
The door creaked open behind us, letting in a sliver of light from the shopfront. I couldn’t turn, couldn’t see who’d entered, but I didn’t need to, Gary’s chuckle rolled over me like a physical touch. "Told you she was eager," he said, his footsteps circling us until he came into view, leaning against a shelf of old stock. His eyes were dark as he watched me, one hand idly adjusting himself through his jeans.
John’s grip shifted to cradle the back of my head, his thumb stroking the shell of my ear as he began moving in earnest. "You wanna watch, mate?" he asked Gary between breathy exhales. Gary didn’t answer with words, just crossed his arms and nodded, his gaze never leaving where John’s hips met my lips.
My tongue pressed flat against John's shaft as I hollowed my cheeks, trying to keep rhythm with his thrusts while still swirling my tongue over. Spit pooled at the corners of my mouth, dripping down onto my thighs where I knelt on the cold concrete. The mix of textures, the salty musk of his skin, the smooth ridge of a vein along the underside, made my head spin.
Gary's boot scuffed against the floor as he shifted his stance, his breathing noticeably heavier. I risked glancing up through my lashes just in time to see him palm himself through his jeans. Something about being watched, about performing for him while John used my mouth, sent a sharp jolt between my own legs.
The bell's sharp jingle should've made John pause, should've broken whatever spell had him gripping my hair like reins, but instead, his thrusts turned jagged, erratic. My nose bumped against the coarse fabric of his trousers with each snap of his hips, the sting blending with the ache in my jaw. Tears blurred my vision as Gary's footsteps retreated toward the shopfront, leaving me alone with John's murmured praise "Fuck, just like that" and the slick, obscene sounds of my throat struggling to accommodate him.
The customer's voice floated back, indistinct but cheery, asking about some new release. Gary's responding chuckle sent an odd pang through me, how normal he sounded while I knelt here, lips stretched taut, spit-slick chin trembling. John's fingers flexed against my scalp, urging me to take him deeper as the shop door clicked shut again. Distantly, I registered the clink of the register opening, Gary making change, the mundane soundtrack to my degradation.
John's breathing hitched, his hips stuttering. "Gonna..." was all the warning I got before hot bitterness flooded my mouth. I swallowed convulsively, throat working around him as he groaned above me, his grip going slack. The taste lingered, metallic and musky, as he finally pulled free with a wet pop. My first full breath burned, air scraping raw throat.
I collapsed forward onto my hands, coughing violently as John stepped back with a low chuckle. My knees ached against the concrete floor, palms stinging where they'd slapped down to catch myself. Spit, mixed with something thicker, dripped from my chin onto the dusty floor between my shaking hands.
"Good girl," John panted, tucking himself away with a satisfied smirk just as Gary's shadow fell across us. His fingers tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. My lips felt swollen, tender when I licked them clean. Gary's expression was unreadable as he reached down, thumb swiping a stray droplet from my cheekbone before turning to John. "Everything satisfactory?" The words dripped with faux professionalism.
John chuckled, adjusting his belt buckle with a casual
flick. "More than satisfactory." His gaze lingered on me, kneeling there with my thighs trembling against the cold concrete. "You've trained her well."
Gary tossed a crumpled paper towel at my chest—it landed with a damp thud against my still-heaving ribs. "Clean yourself up and fill the fridge with cans," he said coldly, already turning away to man the shop. The dismissal stung more than the ache in my knees. John clapped Gary's shoulder with a laugh, murmuring something about "the weekend" before sauntering out, the bell jingling behind him like nothing had happened.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. My lips still tingled, the ghost of John's cock pressing against my palate every time I swallowed. I'd only ever sucked my ex-boyfriend before, awkward fumbling in his parents' conservatory with the threat of interruption making us both jumpy. Now I'd fucked Gary, sucked him, and taken John down my throat as well. The thought made my cheeks burn.
The shop's neon "OPEN" sign flickered off as Gary locked the door behind me, the metallic click echoing in my ears like a full stop to the day's events. My thighs rubbed together under the denim skirt, no knickers, just like Daddy ordered, and the faint chafe felt like a secret brand. The evening air was thick with the scent of fried food from the chippy down the road, mingling unpleasantly with the phantom taste of John still clinging to the back of my throat.
Mum had laid out shepherd's pie on the table, steam curling from the mashed potato peaks. "You're late," she said without looking up, fork scraping against her plate. A strand of hair had escaped her ponytail, sticking to the sweat at her temple. Double shift at the hospital, then. The microwave clock blinked 8:37 in angry red digits.
"I'm going away this weekend with Emily, will you be ok?" Mum said, pushing peas around her plate with surgical precision. The fork tines screeched against ceramic. A drop of gravy clung to the corner of her mouth before she swiped it away with her thumb.
"Oh, yeah I'll be fine," I said, pushing a forkful of mashed potato around my plate to hide the sudden flutter in my stomach. "I'm working Saturday and Sunday for Gary this weekend." The words tasted like a secret. Mum's shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension lines around her eyes softening as she took a sip of tea.