Normally, Bill wouldn’t mind the peace and quiet of the drive home, but the stagnancy was overwhelming. Dreary classical music whispered over the radio set and Frankie remained slumped, only looking down or through the window. When he asked about Dante again, still no response was offered, so he played along and allowed the silence to hang. After they parked and entered the house, only when the door closed did Frankie speak again.

“Hey, Bill,” she said meekly, “Um, can we talk for a bit?”

“Sure, kid.” Bill sat on his couch and she plopped next to him with folded arms.

“So um,” she started, “Dante is… a guy I met close to where I’m attending college, and well…” she paused and looked up at him.

“And?” he asked.

“I don’t wanna get too into it, but long story short, I owe him some money.”

“How much?”

“Five-thousand dollars.”

“Jesus.” Bill sat forward and clasped his hands, focusing anywhere but on her. Before she could continue, the phone rang again, displaying Dante, and she answered.

 “Heeey.”

Bill leaned back and observed what moments before was sullen, now jovial and talking all over its face. Excuses and uncomfortable giggles spat from a broken faucet – not to the very end though. As the interaction came to its close, her smile remained, but her eyes didn’t match as she only listened. When it concluded, she threw the phone aside and peered over to Bill.

“Talk to me, kid.”

“He gave me until tomorrow.”

“Do ya have it? The money?”

“No.”

“Is this the reason you came here?”

She tapped her feet against the floor and sulked at it, before peering up and saying, “Yes.”

Bill sprang up and slapped his thighs, grumbling as he paced in front of the television.

“I know, I know,” she said. “You’re thinking, ‘That’s why she’s here.  She doesn’t care about visiting her mom; it was all about the money’.”

“Yes, you’re absolutely correct. What will be the grand prize for her correct answer, Heidi?” He pointed at an imaginary assistant. “What was that? Did you say five-thousand dollars? Well, good gosh golly.”

“Bill, please.” Frankie lowered her head.

“No-no-no-no. Don’t give me that. Do you know how heartbroken your mother would be if she knew the only reason you’re here was to ask for money? Do you?” He bent forward, sticking his face in front of hers.

“Do you know how heartbroken she’d be if she knew her husband jacked off to her daughter the second day she was here?” Frankie’s head tilted up, posture straightened, and face muscles relaxed. In response, Bill’s expression also slackened and he straightened his stance.

“Listen, you want the five-grand, I’ll withdraw it tomorrow.”

Frankie stood, walked towards the staircase, and looked behind her.

“Did you even really have a choice?” she said before ascending.

“Annnd, there she is.” Bill turned, fell back into the couch, and threw his hands in the air.

 

*

 

 

The withdrawal went quick, but nowhere near painless. Grumbles to the bank, when leaving the bank, and on the way to the location Frankie gave him, were the soundtrack of Bill Lorde’s morning.

“Take me here, take me there,” he grumbled with mocking sentiment as Frankie rolled her eyes. She unbuckled her seatbelt, readying herself for when they parked in the woods before the cabin Dante sent to her – leaning from one cheek to the next. Every since they left home, she hadn’t sat straight, adjusting her position every few minutes. Rough sections of road drew winces and grunts, but Bill ignored as he figured she probably wouldn’t give a straight answer anyway if he queried.

“Here’s good,” she said and pulled her phone up, typed, and rested it between her legs. More was visible than Bill thought appropriate, but he didn’t fuss since the only time she planned to get out would have been when they reached their destination. Speaking of which, the destination wasn’t anything to fuss about: An abandoned cabin encircled by leafy, tall trees and four different off-road pathways that lead to it.

“Why couldn’t you meet him somewhere else? I don’t like this, Frankie.”

“What does it matter?” Her phone buzzed, so she took it up, shook her head, and put it down.

“That him you texting?”

“Uh-huh,” Frankie said while staring straight ahead.

“You’re scared of him.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I saw something from you last night I never saw before, kid. You were vulnerable. For once, you weren’t acting like a little brat.”

“I’m not fucking scared of him, Bill. Now can you just shut up and let us wait until he’s ready?” Her arms folded, and she tapped her feet in a huff.

“My apologies, I should have said you weren’t acting like an asshole. I’ll get it right next time.”

The abandoned cabin’s door opened and a petite, dark-haired young woman stepped out in her Levis and disappeared into a red, rusted sedan a ways off – not before Frankie snapped a few pictures. Her phone buzzed and after she glanced at it, she jumped out of the jeep and stared at the cabin.

“Shouldn’t be long,” she said before following the path, turning the knob and vanishing inside.

 

 

*

 

 

A rapping at the driver’s window awoke him, and outside of it was a glowering Frankie. After he sat up, she walked around the front with a suitcase and jumped into the passenger side, before throwing it in the back seat.

“What’s in the suitcase?” Bill wiped cold from his eyes and dribble from his mouth.

Silence.

“Frankie, what’s in the suitcase? Wait, did you clear your debt?”

“Just got butt-fucked. Wanna hear about it?”

“I’d like an answer to my questions.”

“I gave him the cash.” She paused, then bit her lip. “Dante’s got a great cock, let me tell you.”

“The suitcase, Frankie.” Bill swung the key, did a three-point turn, and drove about a mile before he was on a paved road again.

“The butt-plug I wore on the way barely prepped me for him. His cock is so thick.”

“You’re not going to tell me what’s in the suitcase, are you?” Bill’s grip on the steering wheel tightened and he ground his teeth.

“So Dante was so pissed I took so long to call him after I got here. I told him, you know, I wanted to chill out with my family for a bit first before I tried to get the money together. Of course, at this point, he doesn’t give a fuck because he wants what he’s owed, right?”

“Right…” Bill stared at the roadway.

“Riiight.” She raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. “Anyway, so he was all pissed and grabbed me by the hair asking if I did what he wanted, to which I responded ‘yes, daddy’. So this fucker pulls my pants down, yanks my hair, and slaps me hard on my ass.”

“Yep.” A surge of blood went down south.

“Then he pulls the plug out, drops his pants down, and spits on his cock and my asshole. At this point, I’m soaking wet and can’t wait for him to fuck my ass.” No response from Bill on that, but his cock jumped and Frankie giggled. “You like hearing this, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Admit it. You like hearing about me being treated like a slut. I know you love seeing it, that’s for sure.”

Bill sighed and Frankie continued her story.

“Anyway, he tells me he isn’t going to make me cum and that to punish me, he’s going to blow a load in my asshole and I can’t touch myself, my clit or nothing.

“What a romantic.” Bill managed a half-grin.

“I’m there bent over, hands on my knees, shorts around my ankles, and this motherfucker’s pulling my hair back, fucking my ass hard non-stop for like two minutes until he cums. Ooh and, Bill, I love how he sounds cumming. It’s so primal, so dominant. So… masculine.”

“You fucked him before; Big surprise.”

“Whenever he cums in me, I feel like his property. It’s so hot.”

“That’s disgusting, actually. Property? You’re a person. A person I can’t stand, but a person nonetheless.”

“Oh

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