FIC: The Fall of Angels (Torsten Barring/Laura Erika Barring, NC-17), part 4/15
Title: The Fall of Angels (part 4/15, completed fic)
Author: snowgrouse
Fandom: A Woman's Face (1941), original fiction
Pairing: Torsten Barring/Laura Erika Barring, Torsten/Laura/OCs
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Erotica, darkfic, horror
Warnings: Incest, underage, hard BDSM, noncon, watersports, fisting, scat, abuse, graphic violence (see Ao3 for full list of tags)
Length: ~97 000 words
Summary: Once Torsten and Laura know their song is coming to an end, their lust and their rage are unstoppable. Together, they set out to avenge themselves against a society that had sought to suffocate their desires--and to enjoy each last one of the world's pleasures to the fullest.
A/N: The third and final part of Devilry. Torsten and Laura go down in flames. Darker, kinkier and more violent than the previous two parts combined; please heed the warnings.
(One night, when Torsten and I were returning home from the theatre in a taxi, warm and bubbly from champagne, I whispered a dare into his ear. "Let's seduce him."
The taxi driver was a handsome young man, Latin, well-built, the type I knew appealed to Torsten. I had seen Torsten looking at him, caressing his broad shoulders with his gaze, his eyes straying to the crotch as usual, always measuring whatever he could see of other men's cocks.
Torsten laughed out a plume of cigarette smoke, leaned back and spread out his arms over the top of the seat, crossing his legs and rocking his foot. "Be my guest," he purred.
I knocked on the driver's window. It was a long way to our house, far away in the countryside as it was, and I explained to him that I needed to answer the call of nature.
A little shocked at a lady being so direct, the driver nevertheless stopped. We were miles from the city, on a dusty road framed by orange trees. It was a moonless, cloudy night; the only light came from the car's glaring headlights. Now, I could have crawled amidst the trees to relieve myself, could've torn my stockings, muddied my shoes, but why should I have? No, no; I squatted right in front of the car, exposing my buttocks to the men--I wore no panties, of course--and began to piss. I delighted in the idea of what the driver must have been thinking right now, the erection that must have risen in his trousers. Laughing, I glanced over my shoulder, still pissing, and saw Torsten was leaning in next to the driver, so close the man must've felt Torsten's breath on his cheek.
I saw Torsten's lips form the words "Do you want to fuck her?" and the theatrical way he tugged his cigarette from his mouth and exhaled, mock-casual, as if this was the sort of thing we did every day.
I shook my ass, wiped myself off with a tissue, making sure they saw my pussy was shaven, saw me part its lips, saw me give myself a little rub. I tugged my skirt down, walked back towards the car and made sure to jiggle my hips, my breasts; I was now so aroused I ached between my legs.
I leaned through the window like a prostitute, smiling widely at the driver. "What's your name?")
Author: snowgrouse
Fandom: A Woman's Face (1941), original fiction
Pairing: Torsten Barring/Laura Erika Barring, Torsten/Laura/OCs
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Erotica, darkfic, horror
Warnings: Incest, underage, hard BDSM, noncon, watersports, fisting, scat, abuse, graphic violence (see Ao3 for full list of tags)
Length: ~97 000 words
Summary: Once Torsten and Laura know their song is coming to an end, their lust and their rage are unstoppable. Together, they set out to avenge themselves against a society that had sought to suffocate their desires--and to enjoy each last one of the world's pleasures to the fullest.
A/N: The third and final part of Devilry. Torsten and Laura go down in flames. Darker, kinkier and more violent than the previous two parts combined; please heed the warnings.
(One night, when Torsten and I were returning home from the theatre in a taxi, warm and bubbly from champagne, I whispered a dare into his ear. "Let's seduce him."
The taxi driver was a handsome young man, Latin, well-built, the type I knew appealed to Torsten. I had seen Torsten looking at him, caressing his broad shoulders with his gaze, his eyes straying to the crotch as usual, always measuring whatever he could see of other men's cocks.
Torsten laughed out a plume of cigarette smoke, leaned back and spread out his arms over the top of the seat, crossing his legs and rocking his foot. "Be my guest," he purred.
I knocked on the driver's window. It was a long way to our house, far away in the countryside as it was, and I explained to him that I needed to answer the call of nature.
A little shocked at a lady being so direct, the driver nevertheless stopped. We were miles from the city, on a dusty road framed by orange trees. It was a moonless, cloudy night; the only light came from the car's glaring headlights. Now, I could have crawled amidst the trees to relieve myself, could've torn my stockings, muddied my shoes, but why should I have? No, no; I squatted right in front of the car, exposing my buttocks to the men--I wore no panties, of course--and began to piss. I delighted in the idea of what the driver must have been thinking right now, the erection that must have risen in his trousers. Laughing, I glanced over my shoulder, still pissing, and saw Torsten was leaning in next to the driver, so close the man must've felt Torsten's breath on his cheek.
I saw Torsten's lips form the words "Do you want to fuck her?" and the theatrical way he tugged his cigarette from his mouth and exhaled, mock-casual, as if this was the sort of thing we did every day.
I shook my ass, wiped myself off with a tissue, making sure they saw my pussy was shaven, saw me part its lips, saw me give myself a little rub. I tugged my skirt down, walked back towards the car and made sure to jiggle my hips, my breasts; I was now so aroused I ached between my legs.
I leaned through the window like a prostitute, smiling widely at the driver. "What's your name?")