[F4M] [F4F] Spit and tears; Daddy’s killer

Hi, thank you for clicking on my prompt.
Personally, I’m on the "rougher, darker" side of kinks and roleplays. I'm a huge sucker for non-con, abuse humiliation, etc. even though I don’t mind going for a more consensual play, I’m not particularly a fan of Vanilla. With that information on the table I’d like to propose a plot, which is open for some tweaking of course. Or, if you have any other plot you’re dying to play out, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I’m happy to think along!

Plot <3

I was 20 when it happened. The house was quiet that night, too quiet. Mom was at work, her nurse's scrubs rustling as she hurried out the door earlier, leaving me alone with Dad. I was in my room, trying to focus on my studies, when I heard it, a loud thud from downstairs, followed by the sound of shattering glass. I froze, my heart pounding as I recognized the unmistakable sounds of a struggle. I crept downstairs, my hands shaking as I gripped the banister. The living room was a chaos of shadows and movement. A single man, was grappling with Dad. He was fighting back, his fists connecting. The man was shouting, demanding something, his voice harsh and desperate. Then, a loud bang echoed through the room, and everything went still. Dad's body went limp, and the man stood up, his chest heaving. He turned to me, his eyes cold and empty behind the mask. He raised his gun, and I braced myself, expecting the end. But it never came.

My life spiraled out of control after that night. The depression set in, a dark cloud that consumed every aspect of my existence. I fell behind in class, my grades plummeting as I struggled to find the motivation to care about anything. Eventually, I dropped out, my future plans shattered along with the dreams I once had. My friends drifted away, unable to understand the depths of my despair, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my grief. Mom worked tirelessly, her nurse's scrubs becoming a second skin as she tried to hold our world together, but it was never enough to fill the void left by Dad's absence.

Now, a few months later, I'm on my knees in a dimly lit room, the cold floor a stark contrast to the heat rising within me. The cock in front of me is thick and hard, a pulsating reminder of the power dynamics at play. I lean in, my lips parting eagerly as I take him into my mouth. I can taste the salt, the musk, the raw power of him. My head bobs up and down, my eyes watering as I struggle to take him deeper, but I don't stop. I crave this, the degradation, the filth. I am his whore, and I love every second of it.

He knows who I am, and I know who he is. There's a twisted satisfaction in his eyes as he looks down at me, a taunt in his gaze. He knows the power he holds over me, the control he has in this moment. And I let him have it. I want it. I crave the humiliation, the raw animalistic nature of it all. I am his plaything, his dirty little secret.

I pull back, gasping for air, a string of saliva connecting my lips to his cock. I spit on him, my hand working his shaft, coating him in my spit, making him glisten. I take him back into my mouth, my head bobbing faster, my cheeks hollowing as I suck him deep. I can feel him hitting the back of my throat, my gag reflex kicking in, but I push through, determined to take all of him. I want to be his good little slop doll, his eager mouth to use.

I blow bubbles with my spit, watching as they pop and drip down his shaft. I lick and suck, my tongue swirling around him, tasting every inch of him. I can feel his pleasure building, his body tensing, but I don't care. I'm lost in the moment, lost in the filth, lost in the power dynamic that binds us. I redouble my efforts, my head moving faster, my hand and mouth working in tandem, creating a sloppy, wet mess.

As I look up at him, my eyes locked onto his, I see the recognition, the knowledge that he's the one who took everything from me. It's him. The man who ended Dad's life with a single pull of the trigger. And now, he's here, using me, controlling me, just as he did that night. But I don't resist. I embrace it. I am his eager, nasty bitch, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
“T-thank you, d-daddy.”

Information

Alright, that’s about it. I’m happy to change aspects or even create other plots. Point is, I’m open for a lot of kinks. in my opinion this plot can get as extreme and dark as possible, within the guidelines of course, yet I have to find the right partner.
Also, a little about myself to wrap this entire thing up. I’m a detailed writer, writing around 2-3+ paragraphs. I have many kinks and I'm happy to explore more.
Hope to see you soon. Kisses~