Page 92 of Morally Gray Daddies

“How?” she whispered.

“This.” I slipped the barrel of the pistol under the strap of her bikini. Pulling it outward, I began to slide it off her shoulder.

Sonja let out a sharp gasp that turned to an elongated whimper as I slowly exposed her. The edge of her aureola came into view, then grew as I continued to pull the fabric over the curve of her breast until the entirety of it and her nipple was revealed. She tried to shift away from the cold metal, but with her hands firmly bound behind her back there was little she could do.

“Oh, god. Oh, god, please not that. Please don’t do this to me.”

I continued sliding the strap over her shoulder until it fell completely free, gliding down her arm. Now that she was completely exposed on one side, I stopped for a moment to enjoy the beauty of both her body and the fear which had her pupils blown wide.

I moved my hand to the opposite strap, clenching it. With a fierce yank I snapped the fabric, tearing it free to bare both sides of her completely.

She howled.

As her chest heaved, I relished not only the sound of her misery, but the sight of the two dark circles surrounding her tight buds pebbling, a sign that had nothing to do with arousal but everything with raw fear. I cupped her right breast tightly, and she tried to jerk away, only hurting herself in the process as my fingers dug in. The sound that ripped from her throat was a shriek, and as I held her, she screamed noises that might have been words but weren’t.

“If you’ll stop, I’ll let go,” I said calmly, the words barely audible over her anguish.

At first, she did nothing except continue to cry as she attempted to pull away from me, even though in doing so she was only hurting herself further. Eventually, reason overcame her panic, and she slowly stopped fighting, gulping in air in choking gasps.

“Okay, better,” I said as she quieted. When she’d slowed to the point of simply trembling, I let go of her and leaned back.

“I completely understand your reluctance to participate in what I have planned, but even you would have to agree your father seeing you used this way will send an incredibly strong message, no? I mean, what could be more devastating to a parent? And as I mentioned, my employers do want to make sure this is something your father never forgets.”

“I didn’t do anything…” she cried, tears staining her cheeks in glossy trails.

“I know, I know,” I soothed her, “and I want you to remember that when you tell your father what happened here today. Remind him that what you’re about to suffer is completely his fault. You had nothing to do with the decisions he made, and yet you’re the one who has to pay for them. If you do that, we both will have achieved exactly what my employers are hoping for.”

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to do this!” she implored. “I’ll just…” She glanced around wildly. “I’ll tell my dad you fucked me and how horrible it was and how much it hurt, and… and...” Her gaze came back to rest on me, her eyes beseeching. “He’ll believe me, I swear it!”

I shook my head ruefully. “Oh, I wish it were that easy.”

I stood up, turning to the coffee table behind us. Taking out the burner cell the CIA had provided for ops like these, I flipped open the little stand on the back and balanced it on the table. I brought up the camera, rotating the view until I could see what the lens was.

“Oh, god, no, no, no, no,” Sonja whimpered when she realized what I was doing.

As I fiddled with the view, I spoke back over my shoulder, “As I said, a verbal report isn’t going to be enough to satisfy my clients. They want proof. Undeniable proof. Not only that, they also want to make sure your father sees what’s been done to you to emphasize the importance of the message they’re sending.”

“Please, no. Oh, god, please no,” she whispered.

Once I was satisfied the camera angle would capture everything I needed, I turned back and set my weapon down on the end table where it would be within easy reach. As I began slipping my sport coat off, a fresh set of fat tears began glazing twin tracks down Sonja’s face. The knowledge of what I was about to do to her, coupled with the sight of her crying, had my cock straining against the inside of my pants.

Colbie was right; I was a sadist, and there was no way to deny that even though this sort of assignment wasn’t what I specialized in lately, I was still going to enjoy this return to my past very, very much.

“Well, as I said earlier”—I draped the jacket over the arm of the couch and began unbuckling my belt—“the sooner we get through this, the sooner we’ll all be on our way.”

“Don’t.”

I stopped, the belt dangling from the last few loops. It wasn’t Sonja who’d just spoken.

It was Aubrey.

I turned my face toward her. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t… don’t do it to her.”

I cocked my head. “That would kind of defeat the purpose of my being here, Ms. Taryn.”

“Do it to me,” she replied softly.

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