Chapter Text
DEAD DOVE / INCEST / NON CON
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First Prompt : Kidnapped + “No more please” + Handcuffed
You were home for the holidays to try and have a relationship with your father. He was absent for most of your upbringing; thankfully, Detective Agnes stepped in to raise you. But you haven't been home for the holidays in a few years, and this seemed like the time to make amends. But will Daddy forgive you?
“NO MORE, PLEASE! You screamed, pathetically as her shaft moved raw inside of your mess of a hole. You blubber as tears run down your red-hot cheeks. “PLEASE AGNES!”
“Call me Daddy. Everybody in this town knows, I’m your real Daddy, kiddo,” Agnes huffs in your ear and you shiver.
It’s important to understand ~ You knew Detective Agnes your whole life.
You’d known Agnes O’Connor since you were a kid. Your dad was the police chief of this small town. Being an only child, with no mom, meant every Holiday party at the station was sorta, your only holiday. Your only family even.
Your dad spent most of his time at work, so got real used to police officers and pot coffee. While your sad sack of a father wished your mom would come back, another adult figure had stepped into your life.
Detective Agnes.
Agnes stepped in, in every aspect of your life really. By the time you hit thirteen, she’d taught you how to clean, load, and fire a weapon. She’d taught you how to fight, how to cheat in math class, how to pay the bills to keep the heat on.
Agnes wasn’t an easy person to be around either, she wasn’t one for hugs, didn’t have time to teach you how to ride a bike. Never was one for empathy or a bandaid on your scuffed knees. Everyone at the station found her prickly.
But she made sure you ate, and always how to take care of yourself. A few cops had even joked that Agnes was your real Daddy.
Weirdly the detective never argued with these jokes, just watched you wish something close to pride.
You always figured it was because she was alone too, or maybe had her own lack luster parents.
So with all that shitty childhood and police donuts, when you graduated high school you got the fuck outta that town.
But you were twenty now, and it had been too many years since you’d come home.
So this year, when Thanksgiving break came around again, you had a change of heart.
You felt bad for your poor schmuck of a birth father. That’s the shitty thing about distance, it makes you miss what sucked, it was all you’d ever known.
So you’d emailed your old man and the two of you had made arrangements for you to come home for the week.
You slung the duffel bag over your shoulder and walked out of the airport to a flurry of snow, making you tighten your coat a little more around your waist.
The yellow streetlights of the winter of 1989 was comforting, but you didn’t wanna stay out in it long.
The police lights flicked on and you immediately headed in the cruisers direction.
Opening the side door and getting in only to set your dufflebag at your feet and turn to smile.
“Agnes!” You yell in surprise and the flannel-wearing detective smiles back. You don’t know why but you surge forward and hug her stiff body. But she returns the hug with one butch arm slung over your shoulders. Until you retreat back a little breathless, not sure if you’d ever hugged the woman before, and not sure why your heart is pounding.
“You didn’t think I’d make you take a taxi, did you?” The detective recovers faster than you. Cranking the heat up in the car for your shivering form.
“I thought my dad was- damn it’s good to see you. You look great!” It wasn’t a lie, she always looked great. But Agnes doesn’t take the compliment, already looking you over.
“Damn kid, you grew up fast.” She says a little breathlessly.
“City life.” You try out, knowing where Agnes is really going.
“City life or city boys?” She arches an eyebrow in warning, bit too much heat behind it.
“I’m keeping my nose in the books, just like you taught me.” You add half-truth to you both. But Agnes shakes her head and sets the warm car in reverse.
“How have you been? Scratchy still keeping you up at night?” You joke, but take your big puffy jacket off and then the scarf.
“Hey, kid what did I tell you about seat belts?” Her warning tone is so familiar it’s like looking at a scrapbook.
You scoff but throw the jacket ontop of your bag and then buckle up.
“You know if you were really worried about senior scratchy you could have always called.” She lays on the guilt just enough for your stomach to churn.
“I know, that was fucked. I’m sorry, I just wanted to get as far away from this town as possible.”
Agnes considers this for a second, licking her lips as she turns up the window wipers, the snow coming down faster.
You expected Agnes to wipe it off with a ‘well you did that, and we’re proud of you’ but she hits the guilt again. It fills the car taking all the oxygen out with it.
“Well this town sure missed you.”
“Agnes, you still in that little cabin outside of town?” You ask trying to change the subject, to not feel bad about your lack of conversation to this woman who raised you.
“You used to love my cabin.” Agnes says defensively switching on her turn signal as snow slushes with her back wheels.
“It’s got the best lookout, but you have to admit, it’s kinda secluded. How’s my dad been?” You finally ask, and you aren’t sure why it stings you both. As though it somehow diminished what Agnes was to you.
“He’s good, he’s loss some weight. Everyone's happy you are comin' for Thanksgiving.”
“He told everyone?” You don’t know why that feels overwhelming but it does.
Agnes turns to study you then looks back at the road.
“Was he not supposed to?”
“No, no I just sorta figured he might- It doesn’t matter, you still not seeing Agent Vidal?” You ask and your heart clenches at the question, but you still ask.
Agnes shifts in her seat and pushes the police beanie off her head, making bits of her long hair fall out of the ponytail.
“Jeez kiddo, no call and now you wanna know the dirt, huh?” The detective could have sidestepped that better.
“What, you two would figure it out eventually.” You shrug, not really wanting them to figure it out at all.
“You in a rush to get rid of me?” Agnes grufs out and you forget her butch Daddy act, and how adorable it could get.
“Never, I really am sorry that I didn’t call. I meant to, I just…” You trailed off not sure how to explain it.
“It’s alright kiddo, you’re home now.” Agnes nods and you feel better.
You yawn as the snow comes down harder and harder.
“Hey, close your eyes. You know it’s like an hour drive in this mess until we get to the station. Just shut those big eyes,”
“No, I don’t wanna leave you alone.” You say and Agnes' face twitches but she doesn’t go back ot the guilt.
“Oh, I forgot I made you cocoa.” Agnes yanks the top of her fingerless gloves with her teeth and hands you the red thermos. The one you always had, she took the green. You try not to remember the best points of your childhood.
She twists off the top, and you take it from her. As Agnes slowly takes a back road. You drink it, because who wouldn’t?
You get the bit of whipped cream and cocoa stain on your top lip. Agnes pulls down her blue flannel under her police coat and reaches across to wipe your face.
You blush but thank her before setting the thermos down.
“I got a blanket for you too, sure you don’t wanna sleep a little?”
You yawn again as if Agnes always knew you better than you did.
“Power nap,” you say, reminding her of how she used to get you to sleep on her sofa when she knew you were really tired. She’d turn off her lamp and promise it was just a power nap. Then somehow it was morning.
“Power nap,” she grins and you hear her radio static but she flips it off.
“You aren’t on call?” You say reaching behind her seat to where the big cozy blanket you slept on too many nights sits.
“I told em I had to pick up a suspect,” Agnes lies. and you snort just like she does, sitting back into the car seat. Agnes grabs the corner of it to tuck your left thigh in. You curl your legs on top of the duffel bag and close your eyes. Good thing about your childhood, you could fall asleep anywhere now.
You didn’t mean to sleep the whole drive.
You sniffle a little as snow hits your nose and eyelashes, the sensation of floating makes you feel safe. Just like being a kid carried to bed.
But in reality, you are just that - Agnes carries you across the snow and into her cabin. Something about it is so soft, you don’t jerk up and alert, instead inhaling the scent of the familiar cabin. When Agnes puts you ontop of her bed you make a little whiny noise. Still not really awake.
Not until your wrists are brought above your head, and the loud clif of metal breaks you out of your cozy state.
The handcuffs clink down on your wrists against the metal old school headboard and you are fully awake now.
“Agnes?” Your voice doesn’t hold the fear yet, because you think this is some joke to her. You sit up just a little, the blanket she had wrapped around you still holds you like you are swaddled.
Arms stuck above your head, you don’t understand.
Agnes takes off her large cop jacket, the zipper is loud as she drops it onto the chair. Her cop belt with your breathing is uneven now. As she takes the police issued utility belt off and throws it ontop of the chair too. Bits of snow melt in her hair and you wonder if this is a dream.
Her muddy snow boots kicked off towards the corner mat. Her black sock has two holes in it, and normally you would have teased her for this.
Nothing about this had you laughing though.
“Agnes, this isn’t funny.” You clarify as if there’s some kind of joke you aren’t getting. Agnes wipes at her face and sighs. Moving to the wood-burning stove and opening it, as though this was a part of her routine.
Agnes strikes a match and pokes at the kindling until it ignites and has a good burn going. It instantly warms the small bedroom, and Agnes unbuttons her flannel and comes back around the bed.
“You should have called more often, kiddo.” The glow on the side of her face makes it look like she’s going to tell you a scary story.
“Agnes?” You jerk your wrists up, it’s just such a human reaction to being tied up. To push against the bindings, as though you have to make sure that there really is no give.
Agnes rubs at her chin like she’s deciding how she’d like to explain this to you.
But your mind is that of a junior detective, your eyes shifting around the room. You think of weapons, of what to break, thinking back to the perimeter of the cabin. No one for miles and miles.
It was snowing in November a few days before Thanksgiving.
“Come on, kiddo, you couldn’t have forgotten all of what I taught you while you were away.” Agnes opens the bedroom door and shuffles to the fridge, you hear the old sunction and then the slam again. The tab cracks as Agnes opens a beer.
Walking back over to her fire, bringing the metal poker out to shift the log to the side and throw a new one on. Closing it and setting the poker back she takes another swig of beer.
“My Dad doesn’t know how to use email, huh?” You whisper against the cracking of the fireplace. Your guardian was a detective for murders, she worked hard to teach you to find clues, and this one was hard to ignore.
Your dad couldn’t figure out the fax machine, much less email.
Agnes takes the back of her hand and wipes the bit of foam off the corner of her mouth and sits by your feet. You quickly curl them back, and your cop notices, a small grimace at your action.
Then she sets her beer down on the cabin wooden floor and works on your laces. Taking the boots off your left foot, and then rubbing the bottom of your instep like she did when you were young and almost got frostbite.
Agnes massaged your aching feet for hours until you could feel it again.
She unties the second boot laces and places it on the ground, fixing the bunching on your sock. Then letting her knuckles knead at the ball of your foot. Making your body want to relax.
Who wouldn’t relax from such kind actions?
“There’s a reason I tell that man to eat my ass. He’s an idiot, he always was, and always will be.” Her gaze doesn’t meet yours at first.
“Agnes what did he do?” You cringe, not about to cry.
“He was all too happy as soon as he saw a check. I offered and h-”
You cry out and gasp and shrink away from her. Kicking your legs back so that you can pull yourself closer to the headboard. The blanket falling off of your lap and hitting the floor has your kidnapper seeming put out.
“Hey, it’s still me-”
“You bought me?” It comes out of your throat as if it were a phantom.
Agnes puts her hands out, but doesn’t touch your thighs. She’s trained in calming down suspects and manipulation.
“The whole town knew before I cut the check that you were mine-” The strong cop rationalizes.
“YOURS? Agnes, I’m a person! YOU’RE A COP! YOU CAN’T BUY PEOPLE! WHAT YEAR DO YOU THINK IT IS!”
“Kid let me explain-” Agnes tries again but you are shaking your head and jerking against the cuffs. The skin starting to get red from the friction of the cold metal against you.
“LET ME OUT AGNES! YOU WANNA TALK UNCUFF ME HOW ABOUT THAT!” You don’t know why you still hope she’ll come to. That she’ll be your safe place again.
Agnes' hair falls out of her ponytail completely, her grey worn t shirt sticking to her lower back, this wasn’t going how she’d hoped.
“I knew you would freak out, the cuffs will come off-”
“OKAY HOW ABOUT NOW?” You ignore the idea that Agnes will tone down this shit once you calm.
“Take a breath, remember I taught you box breathing?” The cop doesn’t mean it condescendingly and thats the worst part. Your eyes bulge at the balls on this woman who once loved you.
“FUCK YOU AGNES! HOW ABOUT THAT! YOU OF ALL PEOPLE! HOW COULD YOU!” This wasn’t like finding out Santa wasn’t real, this was a nightmare.
Now your legs go to kick her and she grabs your ankles and pins them to the bed. You push your knee and hit her chin, then her lip, and she is momentarily caught off guard and gets off the bed. You jerk your wrists and as the detective holds her chin and mouth from your shot. Agnes still has the nerve to put her hand out as though you were some kind of unbroken horse. A bit of blood leaking from her quickly bruising lip.
“Hey, listen - easy, you are gonna hurt your wrists!” The detective scowls far angrier with you hurting yourself then you hurting her.
“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! LET ME OUT OF HERE!” You scream and Agnes sighs at her wayward baby.
“You hate me? Really darlin? You haven’t pulled that one out since you were like eight. Now we can talk as soon as you start to calm down-”
You toss your head back and spit at her and it lands right below her left eye and she breathes through her nose and closes her eyes.
Your snide attitude is only slightly covering your fear. You were trained to be annoying by the queen of asshole.
You were Agnes' baby, a smart ass forever.
“How's that for being a brat? You wanna put me in time out again? Put me over your knee again?”
Agnes' eyes open, and something in them - she’s a stranger to you now. A fuse blown somewhere, a switch flipped, and she comes back onto the bed and pins your thighs.
“What are you doing?” You don’t have time to think of how to fight her off.
Agnes wrenches your legs open and finds your belt, flicking the latch open and unlacing it through the thread of your jeans in one quick blow. Throwing the leather across the room, and you heard it slam into the wall. Agnes doesn’t give a fuck, one less piece between her and you.
Your strong cop breaks the button off your jeans, it rings out on the wood floor. Long gone, next the zippers splits from the force of her thumbs.
Your tender loving safe place, leaving quickly, this brutal woman in her place, scratches your hips as she peels your jeans down to your ankles in one go.
“What happened? You wanted me to treat you like a brat? But you wanna be treated like an adult, fine. Spankings too good for you now?”
“Agnes stop!” You shout but her face goes down to your pussy, the cotton underwear wound in her palm audibly snaps as she tears it off your hips. It’s split into three parts now.
Agnes mouth replaces the fabric, your uncut pubic hair a welcomes warm place for her nose to sit. She inhales you and your thighs shake, your mouth opens in shock and…something else?
Agnes tries to keep her own eyes open to watch your face, but every now and then she shuts them tight as her tongue licks around your clit. Not on it, not yet, first she’s got to taste you, every inch of you.
Her wet mouth is foreign to you.
Your hands grab at the metal bars of the headboard, your body is small-town jarred jelly. You should fight, fuck, you just don’t know how now.
Not as Agnes' lips open further, so her tongue can rim your cunt, not going in, but loving how you quiver and flex under her thick muscle.
You are sure you can’t be getting wet, it must be Agnes’s spit, right?
Agnes hands that were holding your hips down from wiggling, move over your hips to your mound, to pull back just enough for your pink, wet clit to pop up at attention.
Agnes opens her mouth and makes you watch as her tongue curls around the outside of your hood, enough to make you shiver. Not enough to give you what you need.
You are frozen, shocked and horrified at what's happening.
Still somewhere in your tummy the tension builds.
Agnes flattens her tongue and licks the top of your hood, pulling it up into your pubic hair where she hums in delight.
Agnes gazes up at you from her bushy eyebrows. Then, taking your shocked state as somehow consent to watch more.
The cop spits hard down onto your pussy, you jerk at the vulgarity of it.
Until the wad of spit covers your hot cunt, dripping down, it’s cooling just enough from the air, and a string sits against Agnes tongue.
The older woman who made you pb&j’s moans again, then she pulls away and unbuckles her own belt.
“Agnes don’t-don’-” You whimper your lip wobbles like some tart in a horror film.
“Shhh kiddo, you knew it would end up like this. This was always how it would end. You’re mine.” Agnes says and stands off the bed, dropping her jeans, and torn plad boxers, and your jaw slacks further.
You thought she was wearing a strap for Rio.
You thought it was a fake bump.
You swore it wasn’t real, just something you’d imagined….
What hung thick and pulsing from Agnes was not silicone. A bit of precum smearing from where it had pooled in her boxers against her head.
The veins twitched as blood pumped through the shaft, your knees closed from the sight of it.
Agnes brings her grey shirt off from behind her shoulder over her head and onto the floor.
“No..” You whisper into the night, one last word.
“You tell’n me the truth, you still a virgin? Hmm? Imma find out right now, and if you were lying- well, were you?” Agnes asks and she fists her cock as her gaze splits from your frightened face, back down to your spit soaked cunt.
“Go to hell.” You answer, and your cop makes a tsk’ing noise in her mouth.
“I did teach you how to talk back, huh? I taught you how to fight, but you ain’t fighting much now kiddo? You know better to fight me, you’re my girl, aren’t you?” The image of Agnes putting a bag of peas on your face from your first fist fight comes flooding in. It works enough for you to move again. No longer a stranger in your skin.
Your mind kickstarts and you go to kick her but Agnes just chuckles and opens your thighs again, like it’s no big deal. A book spine cracking open, for her fingers to trace. A lock that only your protector has the key to.
“FUCK YOU! YOU SON OF A BITCH!” You scream, and Agnes easily keeps you open lining her cock up with your entrance. It bumps up against your clit as you fight her, but Agnes has waited too long for this.
“That’s it, scream all you like brat, you are home now. You are mine now.” Agnes tells you and she pushes her tip inside and your mouth makes an O’ and you go silent until another inch sinks into your heat.
Agnes cock, her thick meat, has no condom, just raw pressing inside of you, bit by bit.
Finally, as she’s halfway, you experience Agnes twitch inside of you for the first time. A glob of precum coating your insides from the ecstasy of how tight you are.
Agnes' face is turning red as she holds her breath, veins rising on her forehead as she tries not to bust on impact from how tight you are.
“Nono no no, please” You whisper up to her face, the one that kissed your nose and tucked you in at night. Agnes' baby blue eyes are gone, dark in every sense of the word now. Her thumbs pin the tendons of your thigh muscle, and you shake under her.
Both of you are holding your breath.
“That’s my girl.” The detective grins above you.
You used to love those three words more than anything. Now all you could feel is Agnes meaty cock leaking it’s seed into you. Your virgin walls tearing open for her, and her alone.
“Please - you can’t you-” You pathetically spew.
“Almost there, almost to the hilt. You so tight, little girl.” She grunts, straining not to fuck you hard and fast. But to enjoy the tearing of your innocence.
You blubber, a few tears falling at the mix of horror and the stretch, like splitting inside.
Agnes gets all the way inside your hot heat, her ballsack slapping you, it’s hair tickles you. Almost as if Agnes ballsack stamps your privates like a passport. She’s been here, and it’s hers.
The cops blissed out face is enough to make you yank your cuffed arms in hopes you can slap the look off her face.
A bead of her sweat rolls down her forehead and drops ontop of your cheek.
“No, no, no, no.” You whine, and your pseudo-parent shushes. As though you are being fussy, and Agnes is giving you your medicine.
The detective is panting and not moving inside of you, but her cock is throbbing inside of your cunt. You can feel the thud of her heart beating through her cock, deep inside of you.
You’ve never felt closer to someone.
Your whole life, you’ve always felt alone.
Someone’s chore, another thing they didn’t wanna do.
Agnes is filling you, making you apart of her. In a sick way you’d always wanted her to choose you. For her to be your real family, to belong to Agnes O’connor.
The cop’s fingers found your clit and made tiny slow circles, you tightened around her cock and you both jerked at the sensation.
“That’s it honey.”
“Stop it, don’t-” You say weakly, the fight leaving your voice.
Agnes rocks her hips just a little bit back and a bit of blood drips down to her balls, a smudge of it just above her shaft too. Evidence of what always belonged to Agnes.
“You are all grown up.” The detective whispers at the sight before thrusting back inside.
You groan at the new sensation.
“Agnes - it-it hurts.” You clench your teeth.
This gets through to your kidnapper who grabs at your face now.
“Shh, it’ll stop soon, we’ll move, it’ll stop. You need the friction, baby, trust me.”
You don’t answer, but Agnes sets a slow pace, two inches out and then thrusting up against your G-spot back in.
Her hands fondle your breasts through the shirt before falling back your stomach. Holding just below your belly button, Agnes thrusts, and you both watch a bump form in your stomach from the intrusion.
“Noo-”
“Shhh, you always trusted me to take care of you before. To teach you, right? It’s okay baby girl. You trust me again.” Agnes says, and something in you actually wants to believe that.
Her dark pubic hair sticks to her happy trail with a bit of your arousal and blood. You can smell her sex, and it reminds you of when you last fell asleep against her lap.
You block it all out and gasp, opening your eyes as Agnes picks up the pace.
You cringe for the pain to feel like tugging and tearing again, but you let out a moan as Agnes' finger pushes down on your clit and rubs harder, rougher.
Full of more need, you don’t know what that is - but you are sure it isn’t right.
“Agnes - stop, I think I have to pee.”
Agnes chuckles and kisses your face and you arch your hips as the pressure builds.
The way the bed is bouncing, hitting the wall, the violence of it makes the beercan on the floor topple over and spill.
Police officer O’connor doesn’t care one bit about it, too in heaven between your thighs.
“Let it all go baby doll.” Agnes tells you and her ballsack hits you with more force now, she’s picking up p her rhythm and you can’t keep up. The metal of the bedframe squeaks on its hinges.
It’s too much, it’s building too tight inside of you, and you- you panic but the pleasure is undeniable and you're not sure what will win.
“NO MORE, PLEASE! You screamed, pathetically as her shaft moved raw inside of your mess of a hole. You blubber as tears run down your red-hot cheeks. “PLEASE AGNES!”
“Call me Daddy. Everybody in this town knows, I’m your real Daddy, kiddo,” Agnes huffs in your ear and you shiver.
“No-No I-” You hate that the words light you up inside. You’d always wanted to call her that.
“You’re my girl, you’re mine. Come on baby, say it, say it-I love you- please say it!” Agnes pants are coming out broken and her hips move without her control as her balls tighten and her jaw sets.
She’s losing it, and your eyes roll back at her words.
“I love you-ILOVE YOU SWEETHEART CUM FOR DADDY!” Agnes begs and you scream out words, they’re all jumbled but your legs wrap around your captors waist, tugging her deeper inside of you.
Making Agnes blow her load deep in your womb.
“DADDDY DADDDY I LOVE YOU DADDY! PLEASE PLEASE I MISSED YOU DADDY HOLD ME DADDY FUCK ME DADDY KEEP ME I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU.” You chant as you cum, your cunt clenching down on Agnes harder, making more semen flow out of her, shooting inside of you over and over.
Agnes smiled down at you as you grind and chase the euphoria up to meet her thrusts.
Pushing your Daddy’s seed deeper inside with each dirty hump.