the skin of coryo's fingertips was rough against your hip, callous and unforgiving. digging his bones into your supple flesh until the marks ebbed and you were forced out of your stupor, eyes catching his - icy blue, an ironic testament to the heat that coiled in your stomach as he forced your gaze to level with his own.
"knees," he muttered, the word falling out of his mouth so subtle that you almost mistook them for a sigh.
saliva lodged in your throat, you kneel, forcing the anxiety down your gullet as you stare at his belt - the metal clasp glistening in the fading afternoon sun that breached through the blinds.
"c'mon sweetheart, had a bad day t'day." taking the first initiative - yet again - he begins to unbuckle his belt, stripping the leather from the loops in his slacks to make it easier for you.
he vaguely indicates your head forward once his pants are loose, leading you by the cusp of your neck until your nose nudges his open zipper.
you were just so passive underneath him, acquiescent to his will - you knew he liked that, but it was because you were afraid of what would happen when it was no longer enough. when it would reach a point where his threats weren't as empty, hollow words eventually taking the shape of harsh actions - antagonistic to the man you first met and fell in love with.
"'m not gonna tell you again." he shoves you harsher this time, dragging one of your hands to palm him over his boxers - his touch distinctly different to what you liked to remember your husband as, yet at the same time far too reminiscent of all the recent attempts at intimacy he's made since becoming president.
complying, you take him out of his boxers, spitting on your palm and stroking until his dick hardens in your hold, his tip pulsing against your fingers when you go to thumb at the slit.
when you finally take him into your mouth, he immediately bucks his hips, driving his length down your throat and forcing you to inhale from your nose and grip his solid thighs, fingers digging crescent moons into the skin to ground yourself.
coryo's head jerks backwards when you start to bob around him, adam's apple quivering and a sheen of sweat building on his throat - shiny against his pale skin.
overwhelmed by the rigidity in his features, and the lack of reciprocal warmth, you start to tear up around him, waterline brimming and growing heavy as your throat contracts, choking on your own emotion.
shoulders taut, he eventually looks down, catching the fat droplets running down your cheeks, his features twist into something cynical, lips placid but eyes upturned in amusement. "c'mon, you can cry if you want, 'm not gonna stop," it's not a threat - he doesn't need your compliance - its a taunt.
instead of making an effort to wipe the tears from your face, his dick twitches in your mouth, the veins growing hot against your tongue as he shifts - his hips directing your mouth wider as he thrusts himself in to the hilt. balls hanging low against your chin while he holds you down so that your nose is stuffed into his pelvis, the hardened muscle of his abdomen almost painful against your softer cartilage.
"gonna train you," his words are punctuated with jarring thrusts, saliva pooling in his pubes and dripping down to his thighs - your own tears now forgotten, salty trails cold and sticky on your jaw, "until you can take it without crying."
his thrusts cause your throat to constrict around him, gagging around his tip lodged in your larynx, and he pulls out just in time to pinch your jaw and force your tongue out for his cum.
jerking himself off, he groans into his fist as he uses his other hand to direct his load onto your face, spurting milky ropes to cover your tongue and lips, puffy from the way you had to stretch around his girth.
"good girl," he flashes a grin, warmth returning to his face as his cheeks crease. and like the doting, ever docile wife shaped husk he's shoved you into, you smile, swallowing his release and reveling in the fact that at least he still has enough love left to praise you.
snow would enjoy having you as a rape doll. coddled up to his side like an accessory wherever he went, free to use or abuse at any given instance.
he didn't want love, didn't need it. but with you, he found dependence - he relied on having you waiting and ready every time he wanted it, and you could never say no.
the one time you insinuate you might leave him - pulling a tempestuous bratty fit - he grabs your jaw harshly between his forefingers, clenching until you could hear your teeth grinding down against each other.
"if you ever try to leave me, i'll drug you until you can't fucking think, and hang your unconscious body in my office," he spits, saliva flecking against your cheek.
tears brim in your eyes at his animosity, a sick smirk creeping at the creases of his mouth at your watery lenses.
"maybe i'd tie you up with a noose too, huh?" he chuckles, "you try to even move when i'm gone and you end up killing yourself"
you nod, bile rising against your peachy gums in tandem with a wave of heat through your stomach as he continues on his perverted tangent.
"i'd get to use you whenever i wanted, and watch everyone stare and wish they were me."
the insinuation of being paraded while most vulnerable caused you to twitch, thighs clenching together to relieve the growing ache between your legs.
"but you'd probably like that huh? too raped out to even speak while i showcase your puffy cunt and sore tits to everyone."
he smiles, pleased at your subservience when you continue to nod. after all, it was your job to be his little rape doll.
