There's quiet music playing in this bathroom.

You clutch at the counter into which the sink is laid, fingers beginning to hurt from the effort of holding yourself in place-- symbolically. Quiet pop tunes penetrate your ears, playing with your brain for cruel purposes, telling your subconscious what to do.

Finally, you succumb.

A faint moan escapes you as you slowly press back only an inch at most. That's enough for him to know. You look up at the mirror, meeting his predatory grin-- the cat who caught the canary, so to speak. His hand slips out of you, making you whimper in protest despite your rational mind screaming at you to get the fuck out of there. A zipper running down makes your knees quake, your primal brain urging your torso down closer to the cold stone and running water.

You soon feel warmth poking against you again, but this is far larger than a finger. You freeze briefly, realization of what is about to happen striking your consciousness, enough to interrupt even your instinctive reaction to a powerful alpha male giving your body his undivided attention.

"W-wait..." your tremulous voice tries, weakly protesting as he rubs the head of his cock along the lips of your cunt, dampening both with your natural lubrication. If he hears you, he pays you no mind, both hands seizing your hips firmly as his organ aligns with yours. You cry out loudly as he thrusts forward, immediately puncturing your hymen. Hurriedly, he moves one hand to cover your mouth, staring at you with wide eyes.

"Damn," he mutters. "Can't believe he hasn't had you every way to Sunday already." You whimper, tears streaming heavily over your cheeks and his hand. He waits motionlessly for what feels like forever, clearly waiting to see if anyone heard you and is coming to investigate.

Eventually, he concludes that you were not detected, beginning to thrust slowly. You can feel the effort he is putting into restraining himself, clearly wanting to let loose on your body more and more with each muffled moan he pushes from you. The pain is almost enough to drive you crazy, drowning out any pleasure you might be feeling from the intercourse.

He hesitates, almost fully sheathed inside of you, moving his other hand from your hip to your neck. Cold air tickles your nipples as the top of your dress drops away, rendering you half-naked. He leans forward, pressing his body against yours to sandwich you against the granite. Taking hold of your waist once more, he waited for only a second.

Then, he begins with renewed vigor, pounding away at you. His hand somehow manages to continue muffling your cries, any semblance of volume control fucked from your body. Your eyes roll back in your head from the intensity of the experience, nerves you never knew existed shocked by the sudden stimulation. Much to your disdain, the pain finally ebbs, giving way to raw, mind-melting pleasure.

"Yeah," he mutters between grunts, "you like that, don't you, slut?" You give an involuntarily louder moan at the name, earning a laugh. "That's all you really are, isn't it? Does Lukas know his girlfriend is a little whore?" You can't hold back the moans his insults draw from you. "I bet this ass has seen a lot of action," he taunts, slapping one of the cheeks sharply in return for a muffled cry. "You love getting fucked from behind by an older man, one who controls your boyfriend's life." Tears continue to flood from your eyes, though now they are in response to the realization that pretty much everything he has said is true. His pace increases, your nipples rubbing back and forth against the counter inches at a time. "I locked the door behind me, bitch. No one's going to interrupt us. I'm not stopping until I've filled you up." The thrust he punctuates the statement with pushes a higher-pitched moan from your throat. The idea of a man you barely knew potentially knocking you up after having stolen your virginity, for some reason, is the hottest thing you've ever imagined.

Your hips begin moving on their own, thrusting in response to his. Another laugh echoes against the walls.

"That's it, slut," he encourages. "You know you want it. You can't help but fuck yourself on my dick, can you?"

"Mm mm," you respond, shaking your head in the negative. Your eyes close tightly, all of your muscles trying to go rigid. Your orgasm is closing in rapidly. Considering his increasing speed, Mr. Aldric can say the same.

"I'm about to cum, whore," he announces directly into your ear. "I'm about to fill you up. Think I'll steal you away and knock you up whenever I damn well feel like it. Forever. What do you think?"

You moan loudly, somehow turned on by the idea of becoming nothing but a breeding cow. Spending your entire life pregnant...

You have always been terrified of getting pregnant. It's why you were never interested in sex before tonight. You've never felt ready for motherhood. Now, you find yourself wanting it more than anything.