No and he has his fun with her

Her head lifted slightly as she crawled, ice-blue eyes flickering with the first real spark of awareness since Adrien had walked in. A few bills, damp and crumpled, protruded from her swollen pussy lips, another corner of green peeking from the tight ring of her asshole. Her cheeks flushed pink, realization dawning behind those elegant features as her mind clawed its way back.

Adrien’s heart slammed against his ribs. He knew exactly what the caller had meant: the fuller her holes, the more she came back to herself. And he wasn’t letting that happen, not yet.

“Oh no you don’t, you whore!” he snarled, anger surging through him.

He dropped to his knees behind her in one swift motion, the scattered cash crinkling under him. His hand shot between her spread thighs, fingers plunging straight into her soaked cunt without warning. The heat hit him first, shockingly wet, slick walls gripping his fingers as he hooked them around the soggy wad of bills she’d stuffed inside. Her pussy clenched involuntarily around his hand, juices coating his skin, dripping down his wrist.

“Adrien, is tha—!” she started, voice pitching up in shock, body jerking forward on all fours.

But he yanked the bills out in one rough pull, the wet paper slapping free with a lewd sound. The second the money left her body, her voice cut off like a switch flipped. Her eyes glazed over again, expression smoothing back into blank obedience. She went silent, crawling forward mindlessly toward the next twenty fluttering just out of reach.

Adrien didn’t let her get far. He smacked the dripping, pussy-soaked bills down onto the pale curve of her back, they stuck there, clinging to her skin like decorations. His hands clamped onto her hips, fingers digging hard into the soft flesh, holding her in place. Her body kept trying to crawl, weak, automatic twitches forward, but it was nothing against his grip.

He shoved his pants down in a frantic tug, cock springing free, already achingly hard despite everything or maybe because of it. Without a second’s hesitation he lined up and thrust into her. The feeling was mind-blowing: her cunt was drenched, velvet-hot, swallowing him in one slick slide until his hips slammed against her ass. She didn’t resist, didn’t react, just took him, walls fluttering faintly around his shaft.

Adrien groaned low in his throat, pulling back and slamming in again, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the empty bakery. He reached around her crawling form, scooping up a handful of loose bills within arm’s reach, some dry, some still damp from her juices. He kept thrusting hard, each stroke driving deeper into the mother who’d just admitted she wished he’d never been born.

“This is fun and all,” he muttered through gritted teeth, breath ragged, “but now I want you to know you’re getting what you deserve.”

He crumpled the bills into a tight, messy wad, then pressed the rough ball against her asshole. Élodie’s body tensed instinctively, but she couldn’t stop him. He pushed hard and the paper **** its way past the tight ring, stretching her as it disappeared inside. A sharp, muffled cry tore from her throat, half pain, half involuntary pleasure as her mind flooded back with the sudden fullness.

She twisted her head around, platinum hair whipping over her shoulder, eyes wide and clear again, staring back at him in horror and confusion.

“Adrien!” she gasped, voice breaking. “What are you doing! Ah—ah…!”

The words dissolved into moans she couldn’t hold back, her body rocking forward with each brutal thrust of his cock, ass clenching around the cash stuffing her, pussy squeezing him in helpless spasms.

“Yeah, you dumb bitch, it’s me,” Adrien growled, hips slamming forward one last brutal thrust as he buried himself deep in her soaking cunt. “You never wanted me to be born, huh? Well, I just wanted to tell you it’s the other way around now. I’m the one disowning you, you pathetic excuse of a mother!”

“Adrien—no, please, sto—!”

Her plea cut off sharply as Adrien’s fingers dug into her ass cheeks, spreading them wide. He hooked two fingers into her tight asshole and yanked out the crumpled, damp ball of cash in one rough pull. The paper rasped free with a wet pop, bills unfolding slightly as he tossed the wad onto the tile in front of her crawling form.

Instantly, Élodie’s eyes went blank again, glassy, empty, the spark of horrified awareness snuffed out. Her body jerked forward on all fours, breasts swinging heavily beneath her, nipples brushing the floor as she mindlessly chased the money he’d just ripped from her hole.

The sight of his proud, elegant mother reduced to a naked, crawling animal **** to stuff herself with cash again was too much. Adrien’s cock throbbed inside her slick pussy and with a choked groan he came hard, flooding her cunt with thick ropes of cum. His hips stuttered, vision whiting out for a second as he emptied himself completely. Spent, he let go of her hips and dropped backward onto the tile, chest heaving, cock slipping free with a wet sound, a trickle of his load leaking down her thigh.

When his breath finally steadied, he looked up. Élodie hadn’t stopped. She was already several feet away, crawling steadily across the bakery floor, gathering scattered bills, folding them mechanically, and shoving them one by one into her pussy and asshole. Her holes gaped slightly with each new addition, stretching around the paper, cash protruding in messy green tufts.

Adrien pushed himself to his feet, still half-dazed. He walked over, crouched, and casually plucked the rolled-up wads he’d pulled from her earlier, the ones soaked in her juices and pocketed them without a word. A thick roll of damp twenties and fifties disappeared into his jeans. She didn’t react, just kept crawling, kept stuffing.

He wandered to the kitchen, grabbed one of the blueberry pies his mother had baked that evening, the lattice crust still perfect, the filling dark and glossy and cut himself a generous slice. He sat at one of the little marble bistro tables, fork in hand, savoring the sweet-tart burst of fruit and buttery pastry. His mom was a good baker, if nothing else.

From the front of the shop came faint, panicked noises, confused whimpers, muffled calls of his name as more cash filled her holes and her mind flickered back on. He ignored them completely, licking blueberry filling from his thumb.

About ten minutes later, Élodie crawled into the kitchen doorway. Her pussy and asshole were grotesquely overflowing now, bills crammed so deep and thick that green edges stuck out in crumpled fans, her lower lips puffy and stretched, asshole winking around the mass of paper. Her cheeks bulged slightly, a few bills tucked into the corners of her mouth. Tears streamed down her flushed face, mascara running in black streaks, but her body kept nudging forward until her cheek pressed against his thigh, nosing desperately at the pocket where he’d stashed the final wad.

She knew what she needed to finish her task.

With two holes stuffed to bursting, her mind was almost fully back, eyes wide with horror, tears flowing freely. Her voice came out muffled and pleading around the cash in her mouth.

“Adrien… please… help me…”

He just smiled, slow and cold. “You should ask your nonexistent daughter instead of the useless old me.”

He pulled the soaked, crumpled wad from his pocket and shoved it past her lips. Her mouth opened instinctively, accepting the bills even as her head shook frantically side to side, eyes begging. She gagged slightly as the damp paper filled her cheeks, but her jaw stayed obediently slack until every last bill was packed inside.

Adrien stood, walked to the hook by the kitchen door, and grabbed one of the clean white aprons his mother always wore. He draped it over her torso, tying it properly at the back, the crisp fabric covering her front like a mockery of modesty, her stuffed holes and bare ass still completely exposed from behind. He also slipped her phone into the front pocket. It was the only thing she’d wear out the door.

Then, as a lazy afterthought, he picked up the rest of the blueberry pie, tin and all and turned her around to face him.

“Wait,” he said, almost cheerfully. “Let me leave you with something sweet since you love me so much.”

He slammed the pie full-**** into her pretty, mature face. The tin crumpled against her features with a loud metallic clatter, blueberries and crust exploding across her cheeks, nose, and lips, filling dripping down her chin onto the apron. Purple filling clung to her hair, chunks sliding down between her breasts.

Élodie stood frozen for a second, pie dripping from her ruined face, then turned mechanically and walked out of the kitchen, naked ass swaying, holes obscenely stuffed and leaking cash, apron fluttering uselessly in front.

Adrien leaned around the corner just in time to watch her push through the front door and step out into the night, barefoot on the cold sidewalk, pie-smeared and overflowing with money.

Would the mysterious caller ever return her?

He doubted it.

But boy, he sure hoped he did.

Note:

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