Chapter Text
Eloise
I was ladling soup at the shelter’s long serving table that Wednesday night when I first saw her. The line moved slowly, the usual mix of tired faces and quiet nods, and then there she was—small and slight, barely reaching my shoulder even from a few feet away. She couldn’t have been more than five-two, if that. Petite in a way that made her look almost fragile, swallowed up by an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans that hid whatever shape she had underneath. Long dark hair fell forward, curtaining half her face as she kept her eyes down, murmuring a soft “thank you” when I filled her bowl. Timid. Quiet. The kind of girl who tried to disappear even while standing right in front of you.
I watched her take a seat at the far end of the table, shoulders curled inward, eating in small, careful bites. Something about her pulled at me immediately. Grant and I had been funding and working this shelter for years—our little project, really. It gave us access to girls who needed help, and sometimes we helped ourselves to one for a night or two. Paid, tested, clean. A bit of fun, a bit of play, nothing more. But this one… I didn’t want just one night. I wanted to keep her.
Over the next week I made a point of being there more often than usual. Grant was buried at the firm—he’s six-four and built like he still hits the weights every morning, and between the long attorney hours and the money he brings home, the shelter was mostly my domain during the weekdays. I told myself I was just keeping an eye on the new intake, but that was a lie. Every evening I caught glimpses of her. Violet, I learned her name was. She never lingered, never asked for extra, always kept that dark hair shielding her face like a shield. Petite frame, soft voice when she spoke at all, the kind of natural submission that made my pulse quicken. Exactly my type. The kind of girl who would fit perfectly between Grant’s total control and my own need to dominate when he allowed it.
I started imagining her in our apartment. Not as a temporary arrangement, not as another girl we’d pay and send back. Permanent. Ours. His rules, my guidance, her complete surrender. Total power exchange. The thought of stripping away those baggy clothes, watching her kneel for him, hearing her call him Daddy while I held her down or held her close… it settled something deep inside me.
I carried the extra slice of chocolate cake over to her table and set it down in front of her before sliding into the seat across from hers. “Hi,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I’m Eloise. I handle a lot of the clinic support here. Thought you could use this.”
She glanced up just long enough for me to catch the wariness in her eyes before looking back down. “Violet,” she murmured. Her voice was barely there, and when I asked simple questions—how she was managing at the shelter, whether she’d been to the clinic yet, if she needed anything—she gave almost nothing back. Short answers. Shoulders drawn in. Every word felt like it cost her something. She was clearly carrying heavy damage from whatever she’d run from.
Fuck, she was perfect.
I stayed a few minutes longer, watching the careful way she picked at the cake, already thinking about how Grant would react when I brought her home. I couldn’t wait to show him.
After dinner service wound down, I slipped into the small clinic office and logged into the system. The shelter’s rule was clear—every new resident had seventy-two hours to get checked or show recent records. Violet had done hers on day two.
I pulled up her file without hesitation.
The intake notes were brief but brutal. Raped by her stepdad. Multiple incidents. She’d run. STD panel negative. Pregnancy test negative. The nurse had convinced her to get the implant on the spot. Smart girl. Or maybe just broken enough to agree to anything that felt like protection.
I stared at the screen a little longer than necessary, letting it sink in. Negative results. Birth control already handled. No complications. She was clean, fertile only when we decided otherwise, and carrying exactly the kind of damage that would make her mold perfectly to what Grant and I wanted.
I logged out, already reaching for my phone to text him.
She’s even better than I thought. Records are clean. Implant in place. We’re keeping her.
I’d been texting Grant pictures and updates on our girl for days now, slipping them to him between his meetings at the firm. A quick shot of her at the table, head bowed over her tray. A closer one I managed from the side when she thought no one was looking, that dark hair falling forward like a shield. Every reply from him was short but heavy with intent—She’s ours. We both shared the fantasy of having a girl completely and totally under us, one we would provide for in every way: her clothes, her food, her safety, her body. No more shelter, no more fear. Just our rules, our home, our permanent little girl. I leaned back in the clinic chair and sent him the latest message, my pulse steady with certainty. She’s ready. We take her this week.
Grant
I stepped out of the conference room at the firm, the weight of the day’s settlements still heavy on my shoulders, when my phone buzzed with Eloise’s latest text. She’s ready. We take her this week. I could feel her excitement bleeding through the screen—she’d been sending me photos and details all week, building this up. Our shared fantasy was finally within reach: a girl we’d own completely, providing everything so she never had to think or decide again. But we had to play this right. I was a multimillion-dollar attorney; one wrong move, one hint of force, and everything could unravel. We needed to make her believe it was her choice, her idea to stay, to submit, to belong to us forever. Coerce her gently, wrap her in safety and structure until she couldn’t imagine leaving. I typed back quickly, already planning the next steps. Good. We’ll make her ours.
I got home later than usual, the weight of the day still clinging to me as I unlocked the door. Eloise was exactly where I expected her—naked, kneeling in the center of the living room, back straight, eyes lowered, thighs parted just enough to show how worked up she was. Thinking about Violet had clearly gotten to her. Smart girl, though. She knew better than to touch herself or come without permission.
I loosened my tie without a word, walking past her to the bar. The ice clinked as I poured myself a scotch. I sank into my favorite chair, legs spread, and finally looked at her.
“Come here and show me how much you’ve missed me.”
She crawled without hesitation, that slow, deliberate movement making her full tits sway with every shift forward. Fuck, that always got me. The sight of my wife—elegant, confident Eloise—reduced to crawling across the floor because I told her to. I’d coerced her into this life years ago, wrapped her in the same net of safety and structure we were building for Violet now. It worked then. It would work again.
She reached me, rose up on her knees between my legs, and unbuttoned my pants with steady hands. My cock was already hard when she pulled it out. She didn’t waste time with teasing. She took me deep in one smooth motion, warm and wet and eager, one hand gripping the base while her tongue worked the underside just the way I liked. The best blowjob of my life, every single time—hungry, obedient, and completely focused on pleasing me.
I rested one hand on the back of her head, guiding her rhythm as I sipped my drink and let my mind drift to the girl at the shelter. We’d make Violet want this. Need this. Just like Eloise had.
I groaned low as I came, gripping the back of Eloise’s head and holding her there while she swallowed every drop. She didn’t pull away until I eased my hand off, and even then she stayed on her knees, licking me clean like the good wife she was.
“Go to the bedroom,” I said, tucking myself away. “Lie on your back, spread eagle. Don’t move until I get there.”
She rose without a word and padded off. I finished my drink, then headed to the bathroom. Standing over the toilet, I relieved myself, thinking about how Eloise had never been able to bring herself to swallow my piss no matter how many times I’d pushed her. She always tapped out on that one. Maybe Violet would be different. Maybe that tiny, broken little thing would turn out to be an eager piss whore for me—drinking it down because she wanted to please, because she had nowhere else to go and nothing left to refuse. The thought made my cock twitch again.
I stripped, took a hot shower, and let the water ease the last of the day’s tension from my shoulders. When I stepped out and dried off, I walked naked into the bedroom.
Eloise was exactly where I’d told her to be—on her back, arms and legs stretched toward the corners of the bed. I didn’t speak as I secured the restraints, buckling each wrist and ankle to its post until she was spread wide and helpless. Only then did I climb onto the bed, vibrator in hand.
“Tell me what excites you about her,” I said, turning the toy on low and pressing it to her clit. She jerked at the contact, already sensitive.
“She’s small,” Eloise breathed, voice already shaky. “Petite. Timid. A people pleaser. Pretty in that fragile way.”
I circled the vibrator slowly, keeping the pressure light enough to build but nowhere near enough to finish her. “Keep going.”
“She hides in those baggy clothes, but I can tell she’s delicate. The way she flinches… it makes me want to own every reaction she has.”
I pressed a little harder, then eased off again when her hips tried to chase the sensation. “What do you want to do with her?”
Eloise’s breath hitched. “I want to train her to lick my pussy. To clean your cum out of me after you fuck me. I want to teach her to take a spanking without crying too much. To please us. To suffer for us.”
I kept the vibrator moving in tight, relentless circles, never letting her tip over. Her thighs trembled against the restraints. Her voice grew higher, more desperate with every detail she spilled—how she wanted to hold Violet down while I used her, how she wanted to watch the girl learn to beg, how perfect it would feel to have that traumatized little body fully dependent on us.
By the time she was panting and glassy-eyed, hips twitching helplessly, her words had turned into broken little pleas. She looked and sounded crazed, skin flushed, muscles straining against the ties. I didn’t let her come. I just kept her right there on the edge, watching her fall apart without giving her the release she needed.
Not yet. Not until we had Violet exactly where we wanted her.
I stood up from the bed and retrieved the spreader bar from the closet. I unbuckled one of Eloise’s ankles from the bedpost, then secured it to one end of the bar. I did the same with her other leg, spreading her wide before lifting the bar up and back until I could hook it to the headboard above her head. The position forced her ass up and nearly to her face, her body folded and completely exposed. It was a difficult stretch for her, and I knew it would start to burn before long.
I reached for the lube on the nightstand.
“You’re going to wear your chastity belt until we convince Violet to come live with us permanently,” I told her, slicking one finger. “No pussy for you. No orgasms. Not until she’s here and ours.”
Eloise whined immediately, the sound needy and frustrated. “We can just take her. Bring her home tonight. Why wait?”
“No,” I said firmly, pressing the tip of my lubed finger to her anus. “I’m not risking my career, Eloise. We do this the right way. We make her want it.”
She gasped as I pushed the finger inside, then added a second, working her open with slow, deliberate strokes. Her hole clenched around me, but she didn’t fight it.
“Please,” she begged, voice strained from the position. “Fuck my pussy. I need it. Please, Grant.”
I climbed onto the bed and knelt in front of her raised ass, coating my cock with more lube. She was used to this. She opened for me easily as I lined up and sank into her ass in one steady thrust, burying myself deep. She moaned, the sound broken and desperate.
I stayed still for a moment, letting her feel the stretch, then started to move.
“I’m not using your pussy,” I said, voice low and even as I fucked her ass. “It’s getting locked up. That’s final.”