Dominatig the Music Teacher - Part 2

After her ordeal the night before, Lynda drives to a clinic for the morning after pill. she runs into a familiar face from the previous night.

CHAPTER TWO – The Next Day

Lynda made every effort to appear as if nothing untoward had happened the previous night. She got up at her normal time and made breakfast for Mark. She made small talk and helped him to tidy up.
“Mark, what are you planning to do today?” Lynda asked as she set a plate of pancakes in front of him.
“I have an online gaming tournament,” Mark replied, his eyes lighting up. “It's going to take a couple of hours.”
“Do you think you’ll be alright staying home on your own for that? I have to give a violin lesson in the next town over,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
Mark laughed as he took a bite of his breakfast. “Mom, I’ll be so busy playing the game, I wouldn’t have even known you were gone if you hadn’t told me.”
Lynda forced a smile and nodded. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll leave some snacks and drinks for you.”
She quickly prepared a tray with snacks and drinks, kissed Mark on the forehead, and climbed into her car, beginning the hour-long drive to the clinic.
As she drove down a fairly quiet stretch of road, her mind raced with thoughts of what she needed to do. She knew she had to get the morning after pill and a prescription for birth control tablets. The idea of facing the clinic made her anxious, but she knew it was necessary.
Suddenly, she noticed a police cruiser pull out and start to follow her. Her heart began to race as the flashing lights turned on. She pulled over to the side of the road, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, wondering what could possibly happen next.
She watched in her rear-view mirror as the officer approached. There was something weirdly familiar about him. With a deep breath, she rolled down her window, trying her best to remain calm.
"Good morning, ma'am," the officer greeted her, tipping his hat slightly. "Do you know why I pulled you over?"
Lynda shook her head, her voice trembling as she recognised the voice as one of the men that had raped her last night. "No, officer, I don't."
"You were driving a bit erratically back there," he said, his tone professional but with a hint of malice. "Is everything alright?"
Her mind raced. That’s why they told her they would know if she went to the cops, at least one of them was one. The officer studied her for a moment, then nodded.
"License and registration, please"
Lynda handed over the documents, her fingers shaking slightly. The officer took them and walked back to his cruiser, leaving her with a few moments to collect herself.
As she waited, she took several deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. She couldn't afford to let this delay her too long; she still had to make it to the clinic. After what felt like an eternity, the officer returned.
"Please step out of the vehicle Ma’am, over to the passenger side of the car."
Lynda’s heart raced as she complied with his commands. She saw his name badge. Johnson. He followed her around to the passenger side of the car where they would both be shielded from the view of passing traffic. When she was at the mid-point of the car he ordered her to place her hands on the roof and spread her legs.
The cool metal of the car and the rough texture of the asphalt beneath her feet were the only things grounding her in the moment. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, a heavy, intrusive thing that made her skin crawl.
Officer Johnson started with her arms, running his hands up and down her forearms in a way that was supposed to be professional but felt anything but. He was close, much closer than was strictly necessary. His breath was warm on the back of her neck, and she could smell the scent of coffee and stale donuts on him.
Lynda bit her lip, trying to keep her composure.
“What are you doing, Officer?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Just making sure you’re not hiding anything, ma’am,” he replied, his voice a low growl.
His hands moved from her arms to her hips, and she felt his thumbs brush against the curve of her ass. She stiffened, and he chuckled. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m just doing my job.”
Lynda swallowed hard, trying to keep from screaming. She could feel the heat of his body behind her, the bulge in his pants pressing against her back.
Officer Johnson's hands moved up to her waist, his thumbs brushing against the undersides of her breasts.
"We told you we own you, that we'd see you again"
Lynda's breath hitched as his hands continued their exploration, moving from her waist up to cup her breasts. She could feel his fingers through the thin fabric of her shirt. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear.
"You're a dirty little slut, aren't you? You like being manhandled," he hissed, his hands still gripping her breasts, his thumbs now rubbing against her nipples, making them harden beneath the fabric, an autonomous reaction, she was not aroused.
"You like having a man take control."
Lynda felt a shiver run down her spine, whether from anger or something else, she couldn't tell.
"Stop!," she pleaded, but her voice lacked conviction. she knew she belonged to the three men that had fucked her last night
He chuckled, a low, dirty sound, and his hands moved from her breasts to her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her skirt. She could feel his grip tighten on her hips as his fingers traced the edge of the sheer fabric of her panties.
"You don't need those anymore. I'll take them and add them to the ones I got from you last night," he muttered, his voice a low rasp.
His fingers found the waistband of her panties and yanked hard, ripping them off her Lynda gasped, feeling the cool air against her exposed skin, feeling the heat of his gaze burning into her.
She dared not say anything, his hold over her was too great. She had never felt this exposed in her life.
The world was a blur of asphalt and trees, the breeze carrying with it the scent of gasoline and exhaust fumes. Officer Johnson's rough hands were all she could focus on. He massaged her ass, his fingers digging into her flesh, before sliding down to her thighs. He forced her legs farther apart, his grip bruising as he held her open.
"Fuck," he muttered, his breath hot on her skin. "You're so damn wet."
That was a lie, she was in no way turned on by the groping, but the words had the desired effect of making her fell ashamed and complicit. He continued to brush his fingers off her vagina.
"Fucking hell," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You're dripping."
He took a moment to rub his thumb against her clit, making Lynda shudder.
"See? You're enjoying this. You're a goddamn slut, aren't you?"
Lynda couldn't help but feel his warm breath in her ear as the assault continued.
His hand gripped her hip harder, fingers digging into her flesh. She felt a wave of panic, but his grip was unyielding. She knew resistance was futile, her body already paralyzed with fear and humiliation.
He forced himself into her pussy, fingers dipping into her folds. She gasped, her body tensing as he began to rub her clit in slow, maddening circles. "Fuck, you're so wet," he rasped, his voice a low, filthy whisper.
"You must have been thinking about this all day."
Lynda bit her lip, trying to hold back a whimper. She prayed for another car to drive past in the hopes that it would bring this to an end, but there was no release. His fingers were relentless, rubbing her clit in torturous circles,
"No... please," she whimpered
He chuckled, a low, dirty sound. "You want me to stop? I fucking own you, bitch!"
Officer Johnson snarled, his breath ragged and hot against her neck. His fingers moved faster, rubbing her clit harder, and Lynda could feel a wave nausea building, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
"Please...stop..." she begged.
"You know what? I don't think I will," he growled, his voice laced with lust and malice. "You're mine to do with as I please." he whispered, his voice a low rumble in her ear. "You know you're nothing but a piece of meat that I can use however I want"
He was right. He moved his hand away from her clit and thrust two fingers inside her, filling her. She let out a gasp of pain.
"Fuck, you're tight," he grunted, his voice thick with lust. He began to move his fingers in and out of her, his pace slow and torturous.
Lynda's breath came in short, desperate gasps. She could feel every inch of him, every ridge and valley of his fingers as they violated her.
She clenched her teeth, trying to hold back the sob that threatened to escape her.
"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "please stop."
Officer Johnson laughed, a harsh, cruel sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Not a chance, slut," he snarled. "You're mine now. Every fucking inch of you belongs to me."
He twisted his fingers inside her, making her cry out in pain. Lynda braced herself against the car, her knuckles white as she gripped the roof. She could feel the tears streaming down her face, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.
She gritted her teeth and braced herself as he continued to fuck her with his fingers.
"Look at me," he demanded, his voice harsh and commanding. Lynda hesitated, but he tightened his grip on her hip, his fingers digging into her flesh.
"Look at me, you fucking slut," he growled.
She turned her head to look at him, her eyes meeting his burning gaze. The look in his eyes was one of pure lust and domination, and it sent a shudder down her spine. He smirked, as if he could read her thoughts.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low growl. His fingers moved faster, fucking her harder, and Lynda could feel a rising tide of panic.
"Please," she begged, her voice a desperate whisper. "Please, stop..."
But Officer Johnson just chuckled, a low, dirty sound that made her skin crawl. "You know what I think?" he rasped. "I think you're loving this. I think you're getting off on being used like this. I think you're a fucking dirty little slut who gets wet at the thought of being forced to take my cock."
His words were like a slap in the face, harsh and cruel. Nothing about this was in the least bit arousing for her, and his words filled her with a deep sense of shame.
Officer Johnson pulled his fingers out of her with a wet, obscene sound, and Lynda rejoiced in the loss of contact. But only for a moment.
The next thing she felt was the cold metal of his belt buckle against her skin as he fumbled with his pants, the sound of his zipper being pulled down echoing in her ears. She braced herself, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum.
Officer Johnson's hands gripped her hips tighter, his nails digging into her flesh as he positioned himself behind her. She could feel the heat of his cock against her ass, the thick shaft pressing against her skin.
"You want this, don't you?" he growled, his voice a low, filthy whisper. "You want this cock, don't you, you fucking slut?"
Lynda could feel the head of his cock pressing against her entrance, and she braced herself, her body tensing in anticipation of the pain that was sure to come.
"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please, don't do this."
Officer Johnson chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Too late for that, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice laced with malice. "You know the drill. Spread 'em wider."
Lynda's stomach churned, but she complied, widening her stance as much as she could. The cold air bit at her exposed skin, and she shivered. Officer Johnson took a second to spit into his hand and used it to lube his cock
Lynda bit her lip, holding back a sob.
The sound of his hand on his dick was obscene, like the wet sound of a butcher preparing a piece of meat. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the reality of what was about to happen. But she couldn't escape the sensation of his fingers as they dug into the flesh of her hips, or the brutal, violating press of his cockhead against her cunt.
"Open your fucking eyes, slut," he snapped. "I want you to watch me fuck you."
Lynda forced her eyes open, her vision blurring with tears. She turned her head to the side, looking back at him over her shoulder. His face was a mask of lust and aggression, his eyes wild and unfocused. He looked like a man possessed, a monster on the verge of losing control.
"Please," she begged again, her voice barely a whisper.
But Officer Johnson just sneered at her, his grip on her hips tightening until it was almost painful.
"Shut the fuck up and take it, slut," he snarled. "You know you want it."
And then, with a brutal thrust, he slammed his cock into her, tearing through her resistance, forcing her to take him all at once. Lynda cried out, a raw, hoarse sound that was half pain and half shock. She felt like she had been split in two, her body unable to adjust to the sudden intrusion of his thick cock.
Officer Johnson groaned, a low, animalistic sound, and gripped her hips even tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he muttered, his voice thick with lust. "I fucking love it."
He paused for a moment, allowing Lynda to adjust to the sensation of him inside her. Then, with a grunt, he began to move, his hips slamming into hers with brutal force. Lynda gasped, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the roof of the car as she tried to steady herself. The world around her was a blur of pain and sensation. Every nerve ending in her body was focused on the cock that was fucking her, tearing into her with merciless force.
Each thrust was a brutal invasion, a claim of possession, and Lynda could do nothing but endure it.
Officer Johnson's breath was hot and ragged on her neck, his sweat dripping onto her back in scalding drops. He grunted with each thrust, the sound animalistic and obscene.
"Fucking take it, you dirty little slut," he snarled, his voice a low growl. "Take my cock like the good little whore you are."
Lynda bit her lip to hold back a cry, tears streaming down her face. The pain was overwhelming, but she couldn't show weakness. She knew that would only egg him on more. She could feel every inch of him inside her, stretching her, filling her. It was too much, too fast, too brutal.
Officer Johnson's grip on her hips was like iron, his fingers digging into her flesh as he held her in place, using her body for his own pleasure. He began to move faster, his hips slamming against hers with brutal force. The sound of their bodies coming together was obscene, a wet, slapping sound that echoed in the empty road.
Lynda's knees buckled slightly with each thrust, but Officer Johnson's grip on her hips kept her in place, ensuring she took every brutal inch of him.
"Fuck yeah, look at you take it," he grunted, his voice thick with lust and dominance. "You're such a tight little cunt, aren't you? Taking my cock like a good little whore."
Lynda's breath came in ragged gasps, her lungs burning as she struggled to breathe through the pain.
Each time Officer Johnson slammed into her, she could feel a white-hot flash of agony that seemed to radiate outwards from her core. She bit down on her lip, hard enough to draw blood, to keep from screaming.
Officer Johnson's grip on her hips shifted, his hands moving around to cup her abdomen, his fingers digging into her flesh. He pulled her back against him, forcing her to take even more of his length, and Lynda couldn't hold back the cry that escaped her lips.
"That's right, you fucking whore," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Take it all. You know you fucking love it," Officer Johnson hissed, his voice a low, filthy growl in her ear.
He gripped her stomach harder, his fingers leaving bruises as he pulled her back against him, forcing her to take every inch of his cock.
Lynda felt like she was being torn apart. The pain was overwhelming, and she could feel tears streaming down her face, mixing with the sweat and spit that coated her skin. She bit her lip harder, trying to hold back the screams that threatened to escape her.
Officer Johnson's hips moved faster, slamming into hers with brutal force. Each thrust was a claim of ownership, a declaration that she belonged to him. Lynda could feel every inch of him inside her, stretching her, filling her, and she wanted to scream. But she knew that would only make it worse. So, she bit her lip harder, tasting blood, and held on to the car for dear life.
The world around them had narrowed to just the two of them, the car, and the brutal act they were engaged in.
Lynda's body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming in protest as Officer Johnson continued to ruthlessly fuck her. His hands gripped her like a vice, his fingers digging into her flesh, leaving bruises that would last for days.
With each thrust, Lynda could feel every inch of him, the thickness of his cock stretching her, the roughness of his skin against hers. The sound of their bodies slapping together was obscene, a wet, smacking sound that echoed off the bare trees and empty street.
Officer Johnson's breath was hot and ragged in her ear, his stubble scraping against her neck as he leaned in closer.
"Fuck, you feel so goddamn good," he grunted, his voice low and guttural. "Your cunt is so fucking tight, it's like it was made for my cock."
He slipped one hand around to her front, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it roughly. Lynda gasped at the sudden contact, her body tensing.
"Fuck yeah," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "You like that, don't you, slut? You like feeling my cock stretch your little cunt," Officer Johnson snarled, his fingers rubbing Lynda's clit with brutal force.
She whimpered, trying to squirm away from the intrusive touch, but his grip on her hips was unyielding.
"Answer me, bitch," he growled, his voice laced with venom. "You like it, don't you?"
Lynda couldn't respond, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. She felt like she was drowning, her body overwhelmed by the sensations bombarding her.
The pain from his fingers on her clit was intense, and she could feel her body tensing, on the verge of tears.
"Y-yes," she finally managed to choke out, knowing what he wanted to hear, her resistance shattered by his brutality, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes, I fucking like it."
Officer Johnson chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a shiver of fear down Lynda's spine.
"That's a good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Now take my cock like a good little whore."
He increased the pace of his thrusts, his hips slamming into hers with even more force, making her cry out in pain and pleasure.
"That's it, you fucking slut," he grunted, his breath hot and ragged against her ear. "Take my cock like the dirty little whore you are."
He thrust into her harder, deeper, his hips grinding against her ass with each brutal stroke. Lynda could feel every inch of him, stretching her, filling her, and she could no longer hold back the moans that escaped her lips.
The car's roof was cold and unforgiving against her palms, but she gripped it tighter, her knuckles turning white as she tried to steady herself against his onslaught. He used her body with no regard for her comfort or pleasure, only his own.
Lynda's breasts bounced with each brutal thrust, the cool air causing her nipples to harden into tight points. Officer Johnson's other hand reached up and grabbed one, squeezing it hard enough to make her yelp. He pinched her nipple, twisting it cruelly, and Lynda cried out in pain.
"Fuck, you're sensitive," he growled, his voice thick with lust.
He twisted her nipple harder, eliciting another cry from Lynda. Her back arched, and she pushed back against him, trying to escape his cruel grip, but he held fast, his grip like iron.
Officer Johnson's pace was relentless, his hips slamming into hers with brutal force, his cock plundering her pussy with savage thrusts. The sound of their flesh slapping together was obscene, a wet, smacking sound that echoed through the empty road. Lynda's breath came in ragged gasps, her body on fire with pain.
Finally, he exploded inside her, nearly twisting her nipple off. She could feel his cock pulsing, his hot cum filling her. He roared like a beast, the sound primal and feral, his entire body shaking with the force of his orgasm.
Lynda wanted to cry out, wanted to scream, but nothing could escape her lips. Her body was spent, her mind numb, her cunt still throbbing from his brutal fucking. She could feel his cock softening inside her, the heat of his cum leaking out, dripping down her thighs.
Officer Johnson leaned over her, his breath hot and ragged in her ear.
"Fuck, that was good," he muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction.
He pulled out of her roughly, his cum dripping down her thighs. Lynda felt a sob build in her chest as she stood there, her body trembling with the aftershocks of his rough fucking.
Her turned her around and shoved her roughly against the side of the car.
"Get on your fucking knees and clean my cock. Now," Officer Johnson growled, his voice a low rumble in Lynda's ear. His hands gripped her shoulders, forcing her down to the road.
Lynda hesitated, her body trembling with a mixture of fear, pain, and humiliation. But the look in his eyes, the danger that radiated from him, told her that he wouldn't hesitate to make her do it.
Officer Johnson towered over her, his cock still semi-hard, glistening with his juices. Lynda looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and revulsion. She knew what he wanted, and she hated herself for it, but she also knew she had no choice.
"Open your fucking mouth, slut," he snarled, his voice laced with cruelty. "Clean my cock like the good little whore you are."
Lynda hesitated for a moment before parting her lips, her tongue darting out to lick the head of his cock. She could taste the salty tang of her own tears mixed with the faint hint of his cum. It made her stomach churn.
The taste of him, the feel of his cock against her tongue. She hated every second of it, but she did as she was told, licking and sucking every inch of the dick that had just fucked her.
"Fuck yeah, that's it," Officer Johnson groaned, his hands gripping her hair, forcing her to take more of him. "Suck it clean, you filthy little slut."
Lynda wanted to gag, to pull away, to do anything but this. But she knew better than to fight him. Finally, he withdrew from her mouth and pulled up his pants. She knelt there, not wanting to provoke him further.
Lynda could feel the tears streaming down her face, her cheeks burned with humiliation. Her throat was raw, and her nipples ached from the bruising. She tasted him on her lips, the taste bitter and vile.
Officer Johnson zipped up his fly, adjusting his belt. He looked down at her with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction.
"You can get up now, slut," he said, his voice cold and detached. Lynda slowly stood, her body aching and trembling. She looked down at herself, seeing the bruises already forming on her hips and thighs.
Her skirt was hiked up, her underwear nowhere to be seen, and she could feel the sticky remnants of his cum dripping down her legs. She felt a wave of nausea hit her as she pulled her skirt back down. She looked down and saw that he was holding her torn panties in his hand.
Officer Johnson laughed, a low, cruel sound.
"You don't want these back, do you? You're a filthy little slut who doesn't need them. Next time I catch you, you better not be wearing any panties at all." He put them in his pocket before turning away from her.
"Now, get in your car and drive off. Don't you dare look back, or I'll make you regret it."
Lynda nodded; her eyes downcast as she quickly moved to the driver's side of her car. She couldn't meet his gaze, couldn't bear to see the cold, cruel smile that he wore. To him she was an object, not a person. Something to be used and discarded as he wished.
That's how Lynda felt as she climbed into her car, her body still shaking from the brutal fuck she had just endured at the hands of Officer Johnson. She couldn't believe what had just happened. She had been pulled used like a toy.
Lynda started the car, her hands trembling as she put it into gear. She could still feel Officer Johnson inside her, his cum leaking out of her, dripping down her thighs. She could still taste him on her lips, the bitter taste of his cum making her stomach churn.
Lynda kept her eyes on the road, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white. She couldn't stop shaking, her body still reeling from the brutal fucking she had just endured.
She drove on, heading for a rest stop that was a couple of miles up the road so she could clean herself up before going to the clinic.
Her body still ached from the abuse, and her mind was a whirlwind of shock, anger, and humiliation. She pulled around to the restrooms and parked up. It took a couple of minutes for her to gather the strength to get out of the car and go inside.
Thankfully the restroom was empty. She stared at her herself in the stainless stell mirror on the wall. Even through the warped, grimy reflection she could see the puffiness of her eyes and the tear stains on her cheeks.
She washed her face and dried it with a wad of paper towels. She dampened another wad of them and went into the stall to finish her more personal ablutions. When she was finished she returned to her car.
As she continued on to the clinic she used the drive to practice her story and gather herself. When she arrived, she chose a spot two streets over and used the walk there to get some fresh air and clear her head.
The clinic was reasonably busy, the staff looked over worked and it took over an hour to be seen. The carefully scripted story she had worked on was unnecessary. When she told the doctor what she wanted, the only question he asked was “cash or card.”
There was a pharmacy a couple of doors down and she got both scripts filled before walking back to her car. The drive back home was less eventful, and she could hear Mark shouting with excitement as she walked in the front door. While she still had some privacy, she took the morning after pill with a glass of water. Then he hid the birth control pills in her underwear drawer.
She went back downstairs and fixed lunch for herself and Mark some lunch. She sipped on a cup of chamomile to relax herself while she waited for Mark to finish his game.
He came downstairs shortly after and looked at her in some surprise.
“When did you get home?”
“About three hours ago.” She joked.
Mark looked at his watch in confusion.
“What time is …, Oh! Very funny.” He smiled
They sat down and had lunch together and chatted about his tournament. His e-sports team had come second, but he was happy enough with their performance. They decided to order some Thai food for dinner that night and just take the rest of the day easy. They just lazed on the couch and took turns choosing movies to watch.
Finally, it was time to go to bed. Lynda kissed Mark on the cheek and told him brush his teeth and get to bed. She went through her own nighttime routine. She had just finished when her phone pinged with a text message from a number she didn’t recognize. It was a single sentence.
“See you tomorrow, and remember, you better not be wearing any underwear.”