Disclaimer: This story contains depictions of sexual violence, homophobic slurs, nonconsensual sexual acts, and other situations that readers may find offensive and/or triggering. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Do not read this story if you are under the age of 18. All characters depicted in sexual acts are over the age of 18.
Gage was watching the game with his buddy while his wife and kids were out shopping. They were shooting the shit during a break when a fast food commercial came on. It was one of those nostalgic, awkwardly sexual ones with barely legal teens unhinging their jaws like snakes so they could take a bite out of a one pound slab of beef between buns big enough that it could feed an entire village.
Gage threw wood.
He was wearing dark shorts and the lighting was soft in the den, so he didn’t bother hiding it. He should’ve known better. Connor never missed anything.
His buddy raised his dark blond brows, smirking and glancing meaningfully at his crotch then back to his face. “Christ, man. Are you hard up?”
Gage groaned, half in embarrassment and half out of frustration that his cock was under the impression that any attention was good attention. Any progress it had made on the journey to deflation during the sad animal shelter commercial was erased as his lonely prick perked up.
Gage let his head fall back against the couch in defeat before he tilted his head to the side to face his neighbor. “You have no fucking idea how bad it’s been over here. Rain only puts out when she wants another baby.” Which was almost a year ago.
Connor pinned Gage with an inscrutable look, and Gage squirmed. “What?”
“You telling me you never get any side action?” Connor’s tone, while not accusatory, conveyed doubt.
Gage hesitated. "Not since the baby was born," he admitted.
“Three months?” Connor whistled. “I’d be losing my mind.”
No shit. “Tanya putting out?” Gage asked, but it sounded annoyed even to his own ears.
Connor grinned wolfishly, blue eyes glinting with amusement. “Everybody wants a piece.” Gage didn’t doubt that. “Few things are better than pushing into a tight wet hole. Hearing those sweet little gasps and moans, whining and begging for more. Desperate for me. Wanting to please me.”
Gage shivered at the imagery. He wasn’t picturing Tanya on her knees, though. He imagined opening wide and worshiping Connor's cock. Choking on it.
Gage swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and pressed a palm to his groin. “Yeah, I like that, too,” he rasped.
“Go ahead and rub it,” suggested Connor.
Blinking in surprise, Gage looked down at Connor’s crotch then back up at his face. It was then that he realized that Connor was not, in fact, suggesting Gage service him, but telling him to touch himself. Whoops.
Gage squeezed his dick, then rubbed his palm over his erection, unable to break Connor’s gaze. While he wasn’t a stranger to jerking off with the boys, Connor didn’t seem the type; however, he appeared unaffected by the turn in events that he was orchestrating.
“Take it out.” Connor’s voice was smooth as silk.
As he unbuttoned his fly and yanked down his zipper, Gage wondered if this was what it was like to be put under hypnosis, equal parts eager and dissociative. He was lightheaded, though that could have been due to the redirection of blood flow.
Gage reached into his briefs and tugged out his fat six incher attached to moderately sized balls. It wasn’t the prettiest dick, more of a brute, with veins appearing blue and close to the surface of his pale skin, framed in a thatch of well maintained dark brown pubes. Always ready for guests despite the dry spell.
Gage’s cheeks burned and he looked up at Connor, seeking approval. Connor’s features–handsome in a nineties heartthrob sort of way–were impassive, simply observing Gage like he was a specimen in an experiment. Gage's cock spasmed and released a bead of precum, much to his chagrin.
He resisted the urge to stroke himself, instinct telling him he was not allowed.
“Not bad at following directions,” Connor mused quietly, almost to himself, as he appraised Gage.
Shame flooded him and his hands clenched into fists, thighs tensing with the effort it took to resist stroking himself. Connor tracked the movement and his lips quirked wickedly. “Strip.”
Gage made haste, kicking off his shorts, underwear, and shoes all in one go while he pulled his shirt over his head. He discarded the items and awaited further instructions.
“Knees.”
Gage sank to his knees, finding the smooth, rich timbre of his neighbor impossible to resist–not that he wanted to. Gage was panting like he’d gone for a run, naked abs flexing with discomfort and anticipation. He wanted Connor to touch him. He needed it. And he wanted to touch. He wanted to see the tanned and chiseled body his buddy was hiding under the loose T-shirt and jeans he wore, wanted to tangle his fingers in his hair, left unstyled on his day off. He wanted to bend over for him and let his rectum milk his cock for all it was worth.
Connor crooked two long fingers, and Gage obediently crawled between the taller man’s spread thighs, feeling exposed in more ways than one as his nipples pebbled in the cool room.
“Good boy,” Connor murmured, and Gage fought a full body shudder at the simple praise. He’d snuck glimpses of the larger man’s cock over the years: swimsuit clinging to it after the pool, showing every ridge and vein; at the urinals, squeezing out the last drop of piss before giving it a shake, even giving it a firm stroke once or twice. It was hard to miss even under clothes given its generous size. Now that Gage had a front row seat, sitting pretty at the man's feet, his mouth was watering and he was nearly feral with need. “You see something you want?”
Gage nodded, reluctantly dragging his gaze from the bulge to look into Connor’s amused eyes. There was a flicker of dark promise there. “Yes.”
“Take it,” Connor prompted. It was the same tone he used with his kids when he was encouraging them to do something they weren’t sure of. It was both infantilizing and exhilarating.
Gage didn’t have it in him to play coy. He reached for Connor’s belt with shaking hands, unbuckling it before setting to work on his fly. Connor lifted his hips, allowing Gage to pull his black jeans and boxer briefs down just enough to free his cock.
Gage gasped. “Oh, shit.”
It was just as beautiful and formidable as he had anticipated, if not more. It was at least nine inches in length, girthy enough to provide a challenge. A little more pigmented than the rest of his golden skin, it hung heavy and proud framed by trimmed, dark blond pubes. Not quite fully erect but getting there. Unlike Gage, who very well might blow without touching himself. Still, it was gratifying to know that Connor was into it.
Connor’s lips curled in a sensual smirk. He looked like a king upon his throne, arms slung around the back of the couch like he had not a care in the world. Not showing off but not hiding, either, he allowed Gage to stare his fill, stroking him reverently, the skin silky soft over the hard as steel organ. The foreskin stretched tight, cock veiny and hot and alive and so fucking big.
“Can I suck it?” Gage asked, eyes imploring.
“Since you asked so politely,” Connor purred.
Gage was determined to make this good, to get Connor hooked so that Gage got to suck him again and again. He’d wanted it for so long.
Connor’s chest rumbled with a pleased hum. When Gage glanced up, he was both turned on and pissed to find that Connor had gone back to watching the game. Gage persisted, increasing the suction and tugging at Connor’s sizable sack, pressing a finger into his taint and massaging the skin there.
As if he sensed his determination, Connor looked down at Gage with a raised brow. Condescending amusement was not Gage’s goal, but he found the attention gratifying in a way.
“It amazes me that you have everyone around you convinced you’re straight,” drawled Connor. “When you’re so blatantly obsessed with cock.”
Gage slowed his movements, glancing up at Connor questioningly.
“The way you look at men,” he clarified. “The way you carry yourself, like you’re projecting to every male in a fifty foot radius that you’re ready to be mounted in the nearest bathroom or back alley."
Gage couldn’t argue with that, nor did he want to. What he did want was for Connor to fuck his ass and treat him like the slut he was accusing him of being.
“I bet you’d be happy taking loads all day long,” Connor continued, jutting his hips up on the downstroke, lodging his cock an extra inch in Gage’s throat. Gage fought back a gag. “You want your pussy bred.”
Gage hummed in agreement. He did want that. Desperately.
“I’d be surprised if that oversized clit you call a dick is capable of shooting anything but blanks,” Connor added. “With those microscopic balls.
Gage groaned, no longer using his hands, just obediently holding still while Connor fucked his throat and degraded him. This was like his hasty public restroom hookups times a thousand. Connor was so affable a majority of the time, he never expected him to be such an asshole during sex. Gage was a sucker for it.
He was almost certain that he misheard the next words.
“Are you sure that Scarlett is even yours? She looks a lot like me…”
Wait, what?
Gage tried to pull off of Connor’s cock, but Connor grabbed the back of his head and thrust his hips, pounding into Gage’s mouth with enough force that his balls slapped his chin audibly, though it was lost over the sound of Gage’s violent gagging, spitting up throat slime and snot.
Gage shoved at Connor, attempting to free himself from his grasp, only getting far enough to dislodge Connor’s nearly ten inches from his mouth. He dry heaved and gasped for air, feeling weak in a way that only puking one's guts out or taking a throat fucking can. For a second he was worried he would pass out, but consciousness came back to him just in time for him to be fully aware when Connor smacked him across the face. The resulting crack was absorbed by the soundproofing in the den’s walls.
Gage realized in a moment of clarity that he was well and truly alone with a version of Connor he’d never met before. This was not the same friend that picked the kids up from school when Rain was sick, took Gage to Vegas on his thirtieth birthday, the man who always showed up for him when he was in a bind. No, this person who was smacking him around and telling him his daughter wasn’t his was a stranger.
Connor hit Gage again, this time hard enough that he lost his balance, only staying upright because of the hold Connor had on his hair and the fact that he was squeezed between his sturdy legs. His cheek burned and his ear was ringing, leaving him dazed.
“Fuck you!” Gage rasped, voice hoarse. “You’re fucking my wife?”
Connor laughed, and what a horrible sound it was, as beautiful and joyful as it was cruel and condescending. It became obvious in that moment that Connor delighted in inflicting pain.
“That’s what you’re focused on? Tell me, what bothers you more: the fact that your wife cheated on you with your best friend or that your best friend fucked her instead of you?”
Gage launched himself at Connor, swinging on him. They grappled, naked cocks bumping together, grunting and growling as they both got in hits.
When Connor finally pinned him, Gage was belly down, exhausted, and unable to break his hold.
“Scarlett was a preemie, right? A month and a half early? How strange that she was eight pounds with zero complications. Did it ever occur to you that Rain found out she was pregnant then scrambled to get your tiny cock inside her so you wouldn’t find out she’d been cheating?”
Gage cried weakly, pressed into the carpet by Connor’s heavy body, unable to escape the malicious words rasped in his ear like a lover, the carpet chafing against his skin, or the threatening weight of the thick cock prodding at his tight, dry hole. Any dissociation he’d been feeling before was a fraction of this out of body experience, facing his own helplessness and the fucked up insinuation that his kid wasn’t biologically his. It seemed impossible that his sweet baby girl belonged to this sick, sadistic bastard.
Connor continued taunting him and grinding his meat between Gage’s clenched ass cheeks. Gage squirmed, trying to keep the head from catching on his rim, but Connor was too big, too patient, too practiced.
“Meghan has pretty blue eyes and blond hair, too,” Connor said, then nibbled on his earlobe. Gage moaned pitifully. “She doesn’t look much like you at all.”
“No!” Gage screamed, but he was no longer sure what he was protesting.
“It’s okay, the oldest is yours…probably…” Connor chuckled. His cock prodded Gage’s anus again and this time it breached, stretching his hole without the assistance of lube. Gage squeezed his eyes shut against tears, grunting and breathing hard, trying to relax as Connor used his cock like a battering ram, opening him up against his will. “You know why your wife doesn’t have sex with you, Gage? It’s because you’re not a man, you’re just a faggot with a pussy. That tiny cock is for decoration.
“Rain needs someone to breed her, knock her up, and you—“ He snapped his hips forward, and Gage cried out, the burn unbearable. “ —don’t have the right equipment. It’s only nature.”
It was almost worse when Connor yanked his cock free, slapped both big hands down on Gage's fat ass, and pried his cheeks apart. The humiliation was no longer turning him on; his erection deflated entirely.
Connor hocked a glob of spit at his ass lewdly and Gage squeaked in surprise. Connor spread the spit with the head of his cock, the slide a welcome reprieve. Connor hocked another glob of spit, then he pushed back in even further than before, to Gage’s dismay–he thought he was fully seated before, but now he could feel the press of Connor’s balls against his taint, the belt buckle against his ass. Gage gasped, trying to relax, knowing Connor wouldn’t let him adjust for long.
Connor made a strangled sound, a mix of pain and pleasure, and Gage felt a surge of satisfaction that it probably felt like Gage’s ass was trying to tear Connor’s cock off at the root and gobble it up.
“Hungry little hole,” Connor muttered approvingly, and Gage felt a sudden rush of shame when he glanced back and realized Connor was staring at Gage’s sphincter nibbling at his rod. “You’re gonna be shitting blood for a few days, princess.”
“Fuck you!” Gage tried to growl, but it came out as more of a sob.
Gage had never had to suffer the indignity of being raped, nor face the deep sense of betrayal when it was at the hands of someone he considered a family. That’s without the added humiliation that the person had secretly impregnated his wife and made him raise someone else’s children. Knowing that he was a cock lover the whole time and doing nothing about it. Taunting him.
Laughing at him the whole time.
Connor pulled out of Gage abruptly and flipped him onto his back, shoving back inside. Gage cried out, refusing to acknowledge that Connor was pegging his prostate with precision, causing blood to flow back into his chode.
Connor smirked down at the sorry sight Gage made, covered in snot and tears and drool, bruises and carpet burn everywhere.
Connor grabbed his jaw, prying it open, and he spat, the sound obscene as it landed at the back of Gage’s throat where he was forced to swallow or choke. Then he slapped his face affectionately—not to be confused with gentleness—and continued to plow him, never once losing rhythm.
Gage was used to quick fucks in random, semi public places, taking it up the ass with his hands braced on a wall or divider in a bathroom stall, back arched while a stranger rutted into him until they spilled their seed, sometimes jerking him off and sometimes leaving him to his own devices.
This…this was a different experience entirely. The intimacy of being forced to stare his rapist in the eyes, watch his amusement at his subjugation in real time, fully clothed.
It wasn’t until Connor wrapped his fingers around Gage’s cock, making it look small and pale in his large, tan hand, that Gage realized he wasn’t even being held down anymore. That his legs were wrapped around Connor’s trim waist, not letting him pull out entirely, knowing that Connor could free himself if he really wanted to. It was a reminder that Gage had no control, even when he wasn’t being physically restrained. And he was disgusted with himself.
Connor pressed his palms against the backs of Gage’s thighs, hooking his legs over his shoulders and folding him like a pretzel, using the new angle to slam into Gage harder and faster. Not a person but a receptacle for his cum.
“Gonna knock you up next,” Connor growled, eyes crazed, blue eyes more pupil than iris, losing his previous aloofness. “Gonna fill you up with my babies until you’re nice and round. You and your wife can have my kids at the same time. I’ll breed you both over and over…”
It was too much.
Gage screamed as he came, exploding all over his torso, neck, even hitting his face and hair. Connor followed him over the edge, hips stuttering, then he was slamming into Gage’s abused hole furiously, filling it with his hot baby batter.
When Gage finally came around, Connor was behind him, coaxing him into standing. His hole felt like it was on fire and too empty at the same time. Uncomfortably wet.
“C’mon, get up,” Connor murmured.
Gage ignored him, staring at the ceiling. Hoping he’d wake up soon and it would all be a dream.
Connor grabbed him by the hair, gentler than before, but his scalp was so sensitive from the abuse that he hissed. “Get up. Now.”
Gage debated fighting him again, but he was exhausted. In the end, he knew he would go with Connor one way or another, so he chose the least violent option and allowed himself to be pulled up and supported as Connor led him upstairs.
As if he needed proof of the cheating, Connor navigated the second floor, which he should have only seen a couple of times over the years, expertly.
Connor propped Gage on the bathroom counter, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature before he went back to retrieve him. He sat him down on the shower bench under the warm water, then surprised him by stripping and stepping in. Gage got his first look at Connor’s naked body, a different experience from seeing him in swim trunks. The man was carved from marble, all hard lines and curved muscle. His cock, now soft, was still formidable where it hung over an intimidatingly large sack. Gage found that the inadequacy he felt about his manhood given the earlier revelation about the paternity of his children was distant in the face of such a beautiful, monstrous thing.
Connor hosed Gage down with the detachable shower head, then he poured body wash onto a sponge and scrubbed his skin methodically, taking extra care with his genitals and tender asshole. Then he got on his knees and washed his feet, getting between his toes, focused intently on his task.
Inexplicably, Gage felt his eyes well with tears, heart seizing with unnamed emotions. Connor didn’t handle him with care, nor did he look particularly soft, but he was grooming Gage. Caring for him. He even shampooed and conditioned his hair and used a face wash on him like he was at the barber or something.
Connor took a fraction of the time washing himself off, then he turned off the water. He disappeared for a moment then returned already dried off with a towel around his hips and another in his hand. He dried Gage off then wrapped him in a bath sheet and guided him to the bedroom.
After the bizarre caretaking that Gage could only assume was so Connor could wash away evidence, he was surprised when Connor crawled into bed with him and used lotion all over his body, spending extra time on his tight traps then his feet and calves.
Slowly, for better or worse, Gage was returning to his body.
Connor covered him with the blanket and Gage felt sad when he left, his mind retreating back into itself.
He was drifting off when he felt the bed dip again. Connor had reappeared with delivery from their favorite sandwich shop, and Gage suddenly realized he was ravenous.
“Sip this,” Connor ordered, and Gage felt a sliver of warmth as he took the Gatorade from his hands. The man was being more stern than he’d ever seen him, but also more nurturing (besides, of course, when he was with his kids.)
“Why are you doing this?” Gage asked warily, exchanging the beverage for the plate Connor had put his food on.
Connor had turned on the TV and was using the Roku–notably already connected to his phone, which confirmed whether or not he’d spent time in his marital bed before–when he replied, “You’re mine.” As if that explained everything.
“I’m not yours. We’re not even friends anymore. You’re—“ he cut himself off when Connor leveled him with a dark look.
“You’re mine, and I take care of what is mine. Now eat.”
Gage ate his meal without complaint. Connor took the plate from him when he was done, asking if he needed more food. When Gage said no, he was only a little alarmed when Connor pushed him to lay down, getting under the covers next to him and spooning him from behind. Coaxing Gage to use his bicep as a pillow, and caging him in with a heavy arm slung over his torso.
Connor had ruined everything that day. Except this, the snuggling, was kind of nice.
Gage just wasn’t sure if being raped by his—now former—best friend was worth it.
The next time Gage opened his eyes, it was nighttime and the TV was turned off. The room was dark except for the sliver of light coming from the nightlight in the bathroom. He wasn't alone in the king size bed, but instead of an overbearing masculine presence, he was laying next to a small woman.
Had it been a dream?
The soreness emanating from his entire body, particularly his asshole, scalp, and face, told him no.
What a disappointment it was to fall asleep next to a Greek god like Connor and wake up next to the gold digging whore he’d married.
“Rain?”
“Mm?” came a sleepy reply.
“How long was I out?”
“Seven hours,” she said with a delicate snort, sounding more alert. “Connor said you had too much to drink.”
Anger ignited in his veins. “Connor’s a lying sack of shit.”
Rain turned over to give him an incredulous look that he felt more than saw. “What?”
“How long have you been fucking him?”
She scoffed. “Wow. I think you’re still drunk.” She flopped back down on the mattress.
“I’m not drunk!” he snapped. “Were you ever gonna tell me that Scarlett and Meghan aren’t mine?”
Rain gasped. “Why would you say that?”
“They look just like him,” Gage spat, grief stabbing a hole in his chest like a knife. “You cheating whore. Do you spread your legs for anyone, or is it just my friends?
Rain didn’t respond, just turned her back to him, which pissed him off, but the fury didn’t hit him until she sniffled pathetically.
She was fucking crying.
Indignant, Gage found he had no words. He went up to his knees, still naked as the day he was born, though he felt powerful and in his element. Masculine–dominant, even.
“Stop crying, bitch,” he snarled.
He had never spoken to the mother of his children—well, child—that way before, and she immediately stopped crying. He wasn’t sure if it was due to fear or shock or perhaps both. Gage knew he was above average in height and unusually muscular, and he often tried to make himself appear less intimidating in front of women, not wanting to make them uncomfortable, and that included his own wife. Hell, maybe that was why she walked all over him, stepped out on him.
Connor didn’t do a damn thing to minimize his presence, except maybe hide the fact that he was a psychopath.
Fuck that shit.
“Spread your legs,” Gage ordered.
Rain tensed. Gage anticipated her next move, jumping off of the bed in tandem and intercepting her when she made a beeline for the bedroom door. He grabbed her around the waist, hauling her back towards the bed, and she screamed. Gage clapped a hand over her mouth and growled, “Shut the fuck up unless you want to scare our kids.”
He couldn’t seem to remember that at least one of them wasn’t genetically his, and every time he was reminded of that fact, it fueled his rage–which in turn fueled his lust.
Rain stopped screaming but didn’t go down easily. They grappled, and the sounds coming from her were animalistic. She was fighting for her life, and Gage could swear that the fear he scented on the air was arousing him further. He threw her on the bed, then tackled her when she tried to get back up, pinning her to the mattress while she writhed and grunted.
Her efforts were laughably weak and his cock plumped up. He ground his erection against her belly and she sucked in, pressing herself further into the mattress, shrinking back in disgust. Good.
He flipped her on her stomach and yanked her shorts down. His mouth was dry from dehydration, so he grabbed lube, squirting it on his cock while he kept his knees on the backs of her thighs, hand pinning her wrists at her lower back. Then, with the dexterity of someone who’d been playing sports his whole life, he managed to spear into her vagina without losing his balance or grip.
Rain fought the intrusion at first but gave up when he didn’t budge an inch. She wept openly, and Gage, despite understanding on a visceral level the helplessness and defeat she was currently feeling, couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty as he began to hammer into her like a beast in rut whose only goal was to dominate and breed.
“You worthless fucking whore,” Gage snarled as he pounded her pussy. Gage, who had known he was a fag since he was gang banged in college and called it a ‘religious experience,’ had never been more fired up for pussy. He wanted nothing more than to plug up his wife with sperm and impregnate the slut with his babies. “You’re gonna give me a baby, one that’s actually fucking mine. You’re nothing but a hole, an incubator. You are worthless. I should keep you chained to a breeding bench until I knock you up, let you out only to put you back in nine months.
“You’ve never had a job, the nanny raises the kids, and you never have to put out. You must think you hit the lottery. You must think you’re so–fucking–clever.” His movements became more deliberate as he worked himself into a deeper rage. He wanted to hurt her like she hurt him. “Living here rent free. Spreading your legs for my friends. Who else are you letting breed you? Should I worry about another baby daddy?”
Gage tried not to think about how fast he came after he realized that another man could be making a fool of him, not just Connor. If there was another baby daddy, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Connor already knew about him.
After he got his nut, he rolled off of her, slapping her ass in thanks to add to the humiliation, and not hating how it jiggled. He might prefer men, but it wasn’t a hardship to get it up for his trophy wife or the few women he’d fucked in the past. In looks alone, Gage had the hottest wife in the neighborhood–maybe a close second behind Connor’s wife, Tanya–and when she wasn’t being a cheating bitch, she could be smart and a good mother, too.
Gage drifted off to memories of warm, calloused hands rubbing soothing circles into his skin, of stubble scraping the nape of his neck, and soft lips pressing comforting kisses into his hair.
Gage woke up to the baby crying. He turned off the monitor and stumbled out of bed, pulling on a pair of sleep shorts so he could check on her.
He'd been worried that finding out the paternity of one of his kids would change the love he felt for her, but when he walked in to see his fussy baby girl, his heart filled with the same all encompassing adoration as always.
He decided that if Connor or Rain ever tried to take his kids from him, he would gladly kill them both.
“Hi, baby,” Gage cooed, picking Scarlett up gently and sitting in the rocking chair. She nuzzled into the bare skin of his neck, and happy tears filled his eyes. “I am so lucky to have you,” he whispered. He hoped she never doubted it.
Later, when he went back to the primary bedroom, he found Rain still curled up in the same position she’d been in when he’d finished dumping his load in her hours before, panties halfway down her smooth thighs and shirt rucked up to her breasts.
Gage didn’t feel guilty.
He went to the ensuite bathroom and wetted a washcloth so he could clean her up. He lifted her out of the wet spot and put down a towel in case she rolled over in her sleep.
When he curled himself around her, spooning her for the first time in years, she went completely rigid. When she realized a) he wasn’t going to let her go and b) he had no intentions of hurting her again, she began to relax incrementally until she eventually melted against him. It wasn’t trust so much as complete exhaustion.
“I’m sorry,” Rain whispered into the dark.
Gage mulled her apology over for a few minutes before he broke the silence again. “Why?”
She let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. He just…it was like…I had no choice.”
“Rape?” he asked dubiously.
“Charisma,” she responded despondently.
