(Sarah's POV) Things Get Out of Hand Part 1

Liam is very, very sick. I am really worried. He is running a very high fever and can barely talk. I think it might be tonsillitis; my tonsils were taken out when I was younger, so there is not much risk of me getting sick from it. I am actually kind of excited to take care of Liam. I love him so much, and playing sexy nurse for him seems like it could be very fun for both of us. Maybe, afterwards, I can convince him to make Mr. Robinson leave. The nightmare last night had really scared me, and I worried that if Mr. Robinson stayed, then there was nothing I could do to stop it from coming true.

Passing Mr. Robinson in the hallway, he grabs my butt and squeezes. Before he can say anything, I let him know that Liam is staying home sick. I hope that means that he will leave me alone today, but I doubt it. He just smirks and heads into mine and Liam's room. I hear them talking, and I go to get some medicine for the love of my life. I return shortly and see Liam getting out of bed with Mr. Robinson's help.

“What's going on?” I ask, confused.

“We are moving him over to the chair so you can have some room on the bed and he won’t get you sick,” Mr. Robinson replied. There is something in his voice that seems off, but I am probably imagining it.

“You do not need to move him!” I start to protest loudly but stop when Mr. Robinson shoots me a look that I have come to know means shut up or deal with the consequences. I relent. “All right, all right, as long as Liam is comfortable.”

I check on Liam, and his fever is getting worse. I am thinking he might need to go to the hospital, but I am determined to prove myself as a good wife and nurse-to-be. I measure out a big dose of medicine and give it to him. It will knock him out, but sleep would be the best thing for him. Mr. Robinson comes into the room.

“You think I gave him too much?” I ask, worried and doubting myself.

“Nah, he needed it; I'm sure he is fine.” Mr. Robinson puts his hand on my shoulder reassuringly, and I am reminded how much he seems to care about Liam. His hand quickly moves down to my waist as he pulls me possessively close to him and starts to pull me out of the room. He grabs my butt hard enough that I yelp from pain as we walk into the living room.

Once we got into the living room, Mr. Robinson immediately started taking off his pants.

“Get naked, Ginger Tits.” He orders, “You are late for my morning relief; we will figure out your punishment later.”

“But Liam is here, and he is sick; I was taking care of him,” I protest. Anything else that I want to say is silenced by Mr. Robinson grabbing my hair and pulling me to the floor.

“Shut the fuck up, Ginger Tits! The only thing that I want you to do with your mouth is suck my fucking cock!”

He rips my shirt off and pulls my shorts and panties down together with one hand. Still holding onto my hair, he pulls me to my knees and shoves his dick into my mouth hard, not stopping until my nose is in his pubic hair and I have swallowed his entire cock.

He just holds me there. I struggle to breathe. I take my hands and push as hard as I can against his fat thighs, trying to create a little space to breathe. I think I am about to black out. Then, I hear his cruel laughter above me as he finally pulls me off his cock. I gasp to catch my breath, tears welling up in my eyes.

“Get over here, Ginger Tits, and finish your job!” Mr. Robinson snarls. Through my tears, I see him, sitting on the couch, his legs spread, and his thick cock standing straight up and hard as a rock. I feel so humiliated and used, but I still crawl over to the couch and take his cock into my mouth. “That's it, Ginger Tits; this is all you will ever be good for.”

Grabbing the back of my head, he shoves my face back down onto his cock, sliding the vile thing down my throat and shoving my nose into his fat and hairy pubes. I try again to push off, but Mr. Robinson takes that as a cue to start fucking my face, hard. I can hear his balls hitting the bottom of my chin. Without warning he starts cumming, and before I can swallow, it starts spilling out of my mouth as he keeps slamming me down on his cock.

“You missed some, Ginger Tits.” Mr. Robertson says menacingly, “You know what that means.”

“Please no, not that,” I plead desperately. “I'll do anything.” Last night was so horrible, but I think he did it on a cruel whim. This time he has had time to plan; who knows what is awaiting me if he makes me do that again.

“You will do anything, Ginger Tits?” He says through an evil grin. “Let's see about that.”

What did I just get myself into?