Authors note:
This alternate ending was originally a part that would have been either after part 3 or part 4 but I ended up taking it out because it kind of made the guy less sympathetic and more sleazy based on where the original ending ended up going. I was thinking about just putting it out as a deleted scene but decided to rework it (quite a bit, maybe almost entirely) into an alternate ending rather than just say “Glad you read this far, but oops sorry this ending isn’t for you so bye.” It ended up still having some talk of abuse, but it maybe has at least a little less to do with sex? There isn’t really a barometer for measuring traumatic events out there since the effects depend entirely on the biological, emotional, and mental state of the individual. Again I am not a licensed mental person and anything in this story should not be taken as advice, and apologizes again if you don’t feel comfortable reading either ending. An additional apology for the length of this one as well. It also seems to have gotten away from me.
Since you obviously didn’t ignore me in the first endings preamble I still need to inform you that you cannot go back and read the original ending if you read this one first. I repeat that it’s only one ending per person and the internet police are just a phone call away. You wouldn’t steal an ending from an old lady, or a puppy that somehow learned to read and is really horny for humans for some reason would you? WOULD YOU????
Play Night [Alt] Part 6 of 6 (kind of): Down the Hatch (Swallowing More than Your Words)
You whine unhappily as you are removed from your comfy blanket burrito. He asks if you need to go to the bathroom and you are surprised to find that you do, despite…what happened. He guides you to the toilet and helps you sit down with all the bindings still restricting you. You know you should be too self conscious to pee in front of him, you don’t even like to use public restrooms if there’s someone else already in there. But for some reason the comfort you’re experiencing in the moment is shown through your body having no trouble letting go with him in the room.
After you finish, he helps you up and gives you a wipe (nervously asking if he needs to do anything else, exposing to the cosmos his naivete of female bathroom rituals in an almost adorable way). When he’s finished fussing over you, he takes you back into your bedroom and lays you back down, excusing himself as he rushes out of the room. Your brief curiosity is answered when you hear him flushing the toilet in the main bathroom. He his next stop is apparently the kitchen because when he returns he has a couple bottles of sports drink, looks at you, then leaves again. He then returns with the addition of a straw and helps hold yours while you sip it down after helping you on to your knees. The whole being babied thing is starting to grow you a little for some reason.
Placing the bottles on the nightstand, he seems to be looking around the room as if to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. The thought of how many towels he must have gone through splashes in your head like a bad gender reveal party and the baby is the fact that someone will definitely need to do laundry tomorrow. You rest your head on his shoulder and he reflexively puts his arm around you as you kiss his neck. He lets out a satisfied moan before he catches himself and pulls away, seeming to remember what he’s supposed to be doing. “Okay now, enough of that you little minx.” His eyes noticeably move to your breasts that are being pushed up by the bindings.
You ask daddy what’s wrong in a completely innocent tone. This seems to fluster him a little. Apparently the emotional vulnerability he’s been building up in you has begun to work both ways. It’s almost like the epiphany from earlier has given you some new power over your fear and you’re beginning to respond to it with boldness. Besides, what could he possibly do to you that he hasn’t already done? In an almost excited voice you ask what else daddy is going to do to you. You are careful to regulate your question this time, using only a hint of your little girl voice. Whatever you’re doing seems to be working as you see his cock slowly begin to rise up on it’s own.
He seems to be trying to decide that himself as he looks from under the bed to the closet like he’s trying to figure out which thing to do next. A wicked thought pops in to your head and you casually act like you “accidentally” tumble on to your side with a little oof, causing your head to hang off the edge of the bed as your body wiggles. This new position just so happens to put your mouth near his stiffening member. Your subtle hints seems to worm their way in to his brain as he looks down and sees you staring at his cock. You notice a little twitch. “Um, well, it doesn’t seem fair that you got to have all those orgasms earlier and I’ve still only had the one, does it?”
You bob your head, your hair flopping in the air. “No daddy, it doesn’t seem fair at all.”
His eyes glide over you again, he reaches out and takes one of your breasts in his hand, caressing it softly. Shifting to line up with your naked form, his cock comes to rest on the side of your face. “Let’s do something about that. Lick me.” he commands with a little bit of a rumble.
Pleased with yourself, your tongue slips out and begins to move over his cock, trying to get your spit to cover as much of his shaft as you can from your position. His sighs of satisfaction make your skin tingle as you dutifully lap at the throbbing organ in front of your mouth, straining to get to his balls. After he seems satisfied that he’s wet enough, he takes his cock and puts the head on your lips. “How much do you want this?” his voice is deep with desire.
“Very much daddy.” you can’t keep your own hunger from infusing the words.
“How much of it do you want?” the glans press your mouth open slightly.
“All of it, daddy…” you beg against his shaft like it’s a microphone.
“Are you sure about that?” He asks. You nod, ready to feel him in your mouth. “Okay, here you go.” His thickness enters your warm, wet orifice as you suck greedily. You move your tongue over him while you try to open your jaw as much as possible to take his girth. It only goes in about half way when he starts moving it in and out. You wish your hands were free so you could touch yourself while you blow him. “You feel so fucking good,” he moans to you. His hands take the sides of your head as he gently works his hips. You moan in return, attempting to vibrate him with your vocal cords as he pumps. “Alright baby, get ready for the rest of it.”
Oh shit! You barely have time to mentally prepare yourself before he pushes himself all the way down your throat. Your eyes begin to water as your air way stretches around him. He’s never been this far in before and you are shocked that it’s even able to fit as deep as it does. Slowly he slides out enough for you to catch your breath.
“Oh fuck that feels good…” he practically pants out. “I’ve never been down anyone’s throat before. Hell… now I get what all the fuss is about.” Your thighs are rubbing together as if you can stimulate yourself with your legs alone. “Okay, deep breath. I’m going back in.”
You take in a lung full of air as he presses himself back down your pipe. The groan he makes as the head reaches all the way to the back of your throat is so hot you wish you had a recording of it for later. His hips buck, fucking your face like it’s a pussy and he’s balls deep inside. This isn’t what you had in mind when you planted the thought in his head, but despite not being able to breath, gagging, and your jaw straining around him, the thought of him in your body makes your little cunt quiver.
With one last grunt he slips out of your mouth entirely. Thick drool comes out with his cock and it dribbles down your face, threatening to go up your nose. Through blurry eyes your see your spit dangling off him and after gasping a few times, you eagerly open your mouth for more.
“Not enough for you yet you little…” For some reason he stops himself from completing the sentence, but before you can inquire, he’s back down your esophagus, letting out animal sounds as he pumps. You can feel the bulge form in your throat with each thrust. By now the little voice in the back of your head is fretting about your pussy getting the bed wet causing you to clamp your legs tighter and slightly raise your swollen ass off the bed which sends a little sting up your spine.
His grunts start to become pleading when he say, “Oh fuck… I can’t…” Your glug-glugs fill the room as he moves faster and more frantically. You try to push your tongue out to allow easier access as his irregular movements end with a final thrust that causes his balls to slap against your nose, he lets loose a torrent of his seed into your plugged up throat. With no where else for it to go you attempt to swallow as much as you can to keep it from spilling out your nose. Pulse after pulse empties in your mouth and you start to struggle as the lack of air sends stars spinning in front of your eyes.
Just before you begin to wonder what your mother will say about the coroners report, his softening member slips out from your lips along with a stream this spit and cum, gushing over your puffy face. You gasp for air as your see through a film of fluids his legs go weak as he tries to control his collapse on the floor. He seems to be struggling to breath almost as much as you are as his head sways back and forth.
Drunkenly, he grabs the nearest (thankfully still clean) towel and begins to somewhat awkwardly clean your face. He tosses the soiled cloth in a corner and leans against the bed next to your dangling head with his nose on your shoulder like he’s trying to breath you in. After a few minutes your neck starts to argue with the position you’re in so you use your legs to shift a little until your head is supported on the mattress. Your inner thighs are still so slippery you wonder if your movements left a trail.
You turn your head and lightly bump your forehead against his as a nagging thought swims to the surface. Without warning you ask him why he stopped saying what he was about to say earlier. The question causes him to turn away a little.
“I… it’s nothing…” this response earns him a bonk from the only thing you have available at the moment. Your forehead conks like a coconut against his harder than you’d meant it to as it almost makes him fall over in surprise as his stunned face tries to figure out what happened. Even though you wince from the force as well, it seems you’ve begun developing more pain tolerance due to his “lessons”.
“Ow! Fuck! I…” With one eye closed from the throbbing in your skull, you glare a single dagger at him. It doesn’t take him long to figure out what the look means. Still rubbing his head his eyes turn away again, “I noticed that a couple times when I was calling you.. stuff that you… didn’t seem to like it…”
You recalled. Most of what he said you liked, but for some reason there were a few times that it brought something up inside and you aren’t really sure why. Some deep, half remembered feeling came boiling up inside. He continues to look expectantly for a response as you reluctantly return to that feeling to try and figure out where it came from. Then an image of your mother standing over you pops in to your head.
Apparently the effect this has on your expression reads clear as he climbs back on the bed and helps you roll over on your side so you can face each other. “Are you okay? What is it?” he asks as bits and pieces of memories flip through your mind like someone dumped a photo album on the floor and only some of the pictures are face up. Your mothers voice seems to filter in from them, harsh and scolding, bringing the feeling that your being punished for something you didn’t do…
“Does… it have something to do with when you were a kid?” his question seems to flip some of the pictures over in your mind. He seems to follow the lead you unconsciously give him with your body language. “Maybe that time you… saw your mom with that guy? You never really told me much about it…” Enough of the pieces reveal themselves for you to begin to fit them together enough to make it coherent. The realization seems evident enough for him to finally ask, “You want to tell me about it baby?”
You press your head into his chest as you begin to verbally try and create an understandable narrative for him. Almost more for yourself. You were young, you’re not sure how old but not old enough, when you found yourself alone in the house. You wandered around at first, just trying to find out what was happening, but soon started to get really scared, like everyone in the world had disappeared. In little kid time it seemed like for hours you sat in the living room, rocking back and forth. Not knowing where else to go, you went out the back door to the neighbor mans house since he had been over before and was always nice to you. There wasn’t anything separating your back yards allowing you to wandered over and found that his back door wasn’t locked so without thinking you just went in to see if you could find someone to help you.
A sound drew you to the living room where you found your neighbor on top of your mother as she was bent over the arm of his couch. Whatever they were doing made a weird fluttering feeling in your tummy that you didn’t know what to do with. It must have caused you to make a noise because they both looked up at you, him in surprise and embarrassment, and her with that look she gave when she caught you trying to get into something you weren’t supposed to. She started yelling at you to go back to your room which caused the neighbor to glance back at her with a weird expression you didn’t have the emotional language to decipher.
After that you never saw your neighbor again unless he was out in his yard or walking by your house. Your mom seemed to get really upset with you about something even when you hadn’t done anything and you heard her talking with someone a few times on the phone like she was pleading for something. She never explained what she was doing and you didn’t find out until you were a teenager when you ended up getting a second hand “talk” from one of your friends whose parents had bothered to inform her of the birds and the other birds.
As you’re in the middle of explaining these things, suddenly another memory that had been burred deeper than the others shoved it’s rotten hand out of the ground. It must have been the same day that you had found her or close enough based on the dress you remember her wearing. It was a dress you always liked because it had little animals printed on it but you don’t remember her wearing it much after that day. She was standing over you with her hands on your shoulders, demanding to know why you were spying on her and ruining things. You remember her actually asking if you were a little pervert who got off on that kind of thing. You obviously had no idea what she meant but by the way she said it, it was probably a really bad thing.
The energy drink that you had downed earlier must have gone directly to your eyes as this revelation caused tears to burst forth picturing your mother, the person who was in charge of taking care of you and raising you, saying something like that to a little girl. You wish so hard that you could hug your younger self and tell her that her/your mother was/is wrong about all of it.
You slowly manage to blubber out this newly unearthed trauma to him as he starts to panic slightly at the sudden escalation. You feel something hot land on your shoulder and realize that drops had begun falling from his eyes too as you attempt to explain something that was experienced through a child’s perception. After getting that part out it takes you a few moments of sobbing quietly to continue. The next part to appear was when you were only thirteen your mother told you that under no circumstances were you to have any boys over, or to go over to any boys house. You choke a little as you almost laugh and snort your drippy nose at the same time at the fact that the thought of what all could possibly happen if you were over at a girls house never even crossed her mind. Other than that it was a blend of snide comments about your wardrobe and judgmental glares from across the room filling your teenage years even after you graduated from high school.
All of the mistakes, all of the choices you made since then suddenly take on a whole new perspective. You feel weight lifting from you as you realize who was responsible, who was supposed to be there to guide you through life. That someone could love and hurt at the same time, even without realizing it.
You go quiet for a little bit as your mind runs through the catalog of your life with a brand new translation of events. Finally he says, “You are so amazing…” You can only look at him like he’s suddenly a riddle spinning bridge troll. “With all that shit going on you were still able to graduate from college and continue on with your life.” You can’t stop yourself from looking away and blushing, but he turns your head back to face him with his fingers. “I’ve known people that something like that would have ruined their lives, has ruined their lives. They push everyone away, can’t hold things together, and become self destructive, and those aren’t near to the worst things that people can become due to shit like that. Those are logical self defenses, your reaction to it are completely natural and I could never have guessed that something like that could have happened to you…”
He can’t seem to stop himself from holding you tightly as he mumbles something you can’t understand into your shoulder. A few seconds later he seems to come back to his senses and quickly begins to undo the straps binding your arms and body. You imagine you look like blobfish as the restraints come loose and you sag into the bed. Tossing the bindings off the bed he begins massaging the spots where the straps have left marks, helping to return the blood flow as you stretch and grown from the release. The metaphoric release isn’t lost on you either.
With feeling returning to your limbs you wrap yourself around him and latch on. He doesn’t resist as he returns the sentiment. Your mutual embrace is only temporarily interrupted when you nudge his foot towards the blanket hoping he’ll take the hint. Like a good boy he reads you and shuffles you both under the covers where you snuggle together until you both (quickly) fall asleep.
Epilogue
You wake up when a beam of sunlight bounces off the wall and with much spite and malice goes directly for your eye. You try to swat the immaterial attacker away from your face before shifting out of its line of fire. You are reassured that, if it comes to it, you can always use his larger body as a shield if needs be as you see that he is still deep in slumber, a little squeak emanating from his squished nostril. You happily take in his smooshy face pressed between his awkwardly placed arms. Still being able to catch a whiff of yourself from the hand closest to your face, you realize that you are actually still rather in the mood. With cat like stealth you pull back the covers and begin to gently caress his cock, very much pleased with the response it gives you. But just as you begin to decide what you want to do with it while it’s master is away, a loud beeping comes from the other room.
You are simultaneously startled by the sound and by him shooting up with a “Hummum”, drool glistening on his cheek. Oh shit! You realize what time it must be and with his cock still in your hand you start to panic. You can’t actually imagine what the sensation of you pulling his body with one hand and pushing his shoulder with the other must feel like while you remind him that he has to get going because he’s still needs to (very much needs to) shower because he getting on the road to go meet up with his friends and oh yeah swing by your moms to drop off the stuff. The one hand and the other hand seem to be getting very different reactions from him as he tries to shake his head and figure out what could possibly be going on (that headbutt might have done more damage than you thought).
Finally the two heads seem to come into alignment as he places his hands on your shoulders and tries to calm you down. “Baby, it’s okay. I don’t have to go anywhere.” Oh no, you did break his poor brain (the insane thought that maybe you can suck him back to health comes at you from some deranged alternate dimension). As you try to remind him which universe he’s in he stops you.
“Hey,” he begins to explain as it seems the shoulder rubs aren’t having the desired effect, except on the penis hand which for some reason has started jerking him all by itself. “Kitten, I canceled the plans with my friends two days ago when I got the idea for tonight. I figured one way or the other I wasn’t gonna want to go anywhere for the rest of the weekend. And as for your mom’s stuff, fuck ‘er. She wants it bad enough she can drive over and pick it up her damn self.”
The events of last night are push into the dawn hours as flashcards of what happened refresh your memory. Oddly, the thought of your mother knocking on your door while you are naked in bed with your boyfriend no longer seems to have the same effect that it did before. The familiar dread seems to have been replace with… something? You haven’t really figured out what this new feeling is but you bask in it for a few seconds before a twitch between your fingers draws your attention. You look down and apologize without actually releasing your hold, but his only response is just to kiss you more. The alarm in the other room eventually times out as you wordlessly climb on top of him and eagerly slip him inside you. You spend the rest of the morning fucking like you just met in spite of the lump on his head and the bruises on your ass.
Eventually the feeling will go away. The cracks that were made inside you can’t be that easily repaired, but you do now know that it’s there, and it doesn’t take much convincing on his part to get you to start seeing someone to help you seal up the wound. You realize that another effect of it is that you find yourself becoming more creative, and eventually ideas for setting up your own play nights begin to take shape in your head…
Continued in: Another Play Night
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/zy16bj/play_night_part_6_of_6_alternate_mf_20ish40ish