Caught by the Convicts

Wendy sputters. “But people could be in danger. I could be in danger—”

“No,” Ruger growls.

“My extra-large associate is correct. You’re not in danger. We’re here.”

She shakes her head. “No, you don’t know my father. He’s…he’s insidious. Sometimes he doesn’t even want money from me. He just wants to remind me where I came from. That I’m his daughter and I belong to him.”

Jealousy snaps like a rubber band in my throat. “You don’t belong to anyone but us now,” I say tightly. “The difference is, you belong to us by choice.” I attempt to swallow, but can’t. “At least, that’s what we’re hoping.”

“Don’t you see that’s impossible?” she asks.

“The fact that you answered so quickly leads me to believe you’ve at least been thinking about it.” I begin to make my way around the island, coming toward her from the opposite side of Ruger. “About the three of us being permanent.” When I reach them, I press my lap to the curve of her hip slowly, letting her feel my rigid cock. I slip a hand between her body and the counter, palming the supple cheek of her ass, massaging it roughly. “Haven’t you, baby?”

Her eyelids flutter. “I, um…”

“Ruger, get down on your knees.” I gather the hem of her nightshirt, lifting it in a fist. “Lick her pussy.”

As I suspected he would, Ruger drops like a boulder, already panting for the opportunity to get his tongue in her tight little snatch. He presses his opening mouth to her naked mound, his hands shaking as they rake up and down her thighs. “I don’t know how,” he rasps. “How do I make her feel good?”

Damn. Damn, I like this too much. The fact that Ruger is so inexperienced. The fact that no one has touched him but me and Wendy. I like it as much as the fact that no one touched Wendy until the day in our cell. I’m here to guide them. Show them pleasure. I’ve always looked out for me, myself and I, but this…God, it’s infinitely better. It’s a calling, a higher purpose I didn’t know I needed so desperately. Because I care about them.

Reaching down, I use my index and middle finger to form a V. And I use that V to slide apart the lips of her pussy, presenting Ruger with the wet, pink flesh beyond. I press my mouth to Wendy’s jaw, breathing in and out while I work my fingers to expose her clit.

“Do you see that little bud, Ruger?”

“Yes,” he responds hoarsely.

“When we stimulate that with our tongues or fingers or cocks, that’s how she comes. It’s fucking sacred. It’s to be worshipped at all times. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” he groans, mouth poised right above the swollen pink berry.

Licking his chops.

“Get started,” I manage, my throat made arid by the erotic sight of Ruger polishing Wendy’s clit hungrily, bathing it over and over with his red tongue, his hands gripping her thighs tightly. I keep her flesh open with my fingers and every once in a while his tongue slips, grazing the sensitive inside of my digit, causing my cock to pulse confusingly.

Wendy’s head falls back and she moans.

Moans even louder when I bite the skin beneath her ear. “Let’s continue our discussion, shall we?” I raze her skin with my teeth and she shudders. “You are safe with us. Your father can’t hurt you. As long as you’re scared, he wins. So we need to get rid of the fear.”

“I…I…that’s what I was trying to do. When I visited the prison.”

“Well we don’t have that option anymore, so we’ll have to think of something else to free you from his grip. Maybe we find him first. Play offense.”

“No, I don’t want to do that.” Her breath stutters and turns into a whimper, her left leg comes up to drape over Ruger’s shoulder. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

I use the V of my fingers to draw her wider. “He’s good at eating pussy, is he?”

“Y-yes,” she says on an exhale, breaking off to moan, her hips rolling toward Ruger’s eager tongue. Perhaps I shouldn’t be using this opportunity to gain promises or solve the riddle of our relationship, but hey, I’ve never been a saint. “Do you know where your father might have gone, Wendy?”

“What?” Her eyes are glazed, unfocused. “No. I mean…my childhood home is on the other side of town. But I own the property now. And he wouldn’t go there anyway, it would be too obvious.”

“If he’s an arrogant sociopath, he might,” I say drily. That earlier sense of purpose is back inside of me and before I register my own actions, I’m raking my hand upward from her buttocks to her hair, fisting the blonde length of it in a stern hand. “Look me in the eye.”