The Perversion Trilogy: Perversion, Possession & Permission

by T. M. Frazier

  “I’ve got you, Tricks,” he says against my lips. He reaches between us and positions his thick girth at my opening, nudging the head inside, stretching me open. “We can do slow next time. Right now, I just need you.”

  “Yes,” I moan my agreement.

  He thrusts, seating himself deep inside of me. I contract around his welcome intrusion. He groans into the crook of my neck. “Fuck, Tricks. It’s so good,” he mumbles. “Feels so fucking good.”

  “Please,” I hear myself beg, arching my back.

  He lifts his chest from mine and reaches behind my knees, pulling my legs up over his shoulders. The position allows him even deeper inside of me. He pulls back and slams into me, his balls slapping against my ass cheeks. His eyelids are heavy as he watches my breasts bounce with every thrust with appreciation and awe. With every movement in and out he rubs against my nerve endings. It’s only seconds before my lower stomach coils up so tight I’m begging for release.

  “Please,” I rasp again.

  Grim growls and lifts my legs from my shoulders and folds my knees. Beads of sweat appear on his forehead. He presses into me again and again. “Come, Tricks. Co— “

  The way my pussy clamps around his cock silences him. I don’t just come, I ascend to a height of pleasure I never knew possible. The tension releases in a spiral of pressure. A full body explosion followed by waves of sparks as I scream Grim’s name, digging my fingernails into his round muscled ass cheeks.

  Grim thrusts into me one final time. His neck is chorded tight. I’m thrashing underneath him in the throes of the strongest orgasm I’ve ever known powers through me like a derailed train.

  He grows impossibly hard inside of me. I feel his cock throb as he comes on a strangled groan, flooding me with his cum.

  Grim collapses beside me, tucking me against his chest.

  “That was—” I begin to say, but I can’t find the right word in my lust addled state.

  “Nothing yet,” Grim interrupts with a laugh and a wicked gleam in his eyes.

  For a few moments we relax in comfortable silence. After we both catch our breath, he turns on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “We have one more thing to deal with.”

  “What’s that?” I ask, reaching out to brush my hand over the rose tattoo on his throat.

  He sighs. “Mona.”

  Twenty-Five

  My parents come over in the morning with Gabby as promised. We eat breakfast with Marci and Grim’s brothers. Ma and Marci spend most of the morning passing Rosey back and forth between them, gushing over their grandchild. Callum and Grim discussed business while Sandy sits, oddly silent, glaring at Gabby from across the table when she isn’t looking.

  I’ve never felt more at peace, or more at home. It’s natural, having us all here together.

  Marci and Ma barely pay us any attention when we ask them to watch Rosey for a little while. They are both on the living floor clapping as Rosey crawls between them. They wave us off as if asking wasn’t even necessary.

  “I think they’re in love,” I say to Grim.

  “Them and me both,” he replies, tucking my hand into his, leading me to the garage. He places a helmet on my head and checks twice to make sure the clasp is snapped in properly. He sets me on his bike, and just like before, he positions me in front of him.

  The ride is peaceful without the threat of flying bullets. There are people out and about. Children laughing as they play tag in an empty field beside the road.

  The peace I feel is short-lived as we approach our destination.

  Rollo’s cabin where he’s been keeping Mona since I left for Ireland. I’m surprised to find the cabin is on reservation lands.

  “Rollo is a tribesman,” he explains, noticing my confusion as we dismount. He takes my helmet from me and sets it on the seat.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to say to her. Or what I’m going to decide,” I admit to Grim as we stand on the porch. The front door is open, but the screen door in front of it is closed.

  Grim raps on the aluminum with his fist. “You’ll know once you see her, and if you don’t, nothing has to be decided today. This is your call to make. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to make it, but just know that nothing has to be decided today.”

  When no one comes to the door, Grim tugs on my hand, and we head to the back of the cabin where we find Rollo and Mona, naked. Mona’s riding Rollo on a plastic lounge chair right there on the back porch, his fingers digging into her hips, his eyes closed and his mouth open in ecstasy.

  “What the fuck?” Grim grates.

  Rollo’s and Mona’s heads snap to us. Rollo pushes Mona off of him, protectively shielding her with his large, naked body.

  Grim

  “Go put some clothes on,” Rollo orders Mona, who rushes inside the house.

  Tricks turns around while Rollo stands and pulls on a pair of basketball shorts. A few seconds later, Mona appears again, this time wearing an oversized black t-shirt to her knees. She looks frightened. I can see her lower lip trembling from where we stand more than twenty feet away.

  They descend the steps and approach us. Rollo tucks Mona under his arm, not like he’s delivering a prisoner, but like he’s protecting her. “What the fuck is going on, Rollo?” I growl.

  “Boss, I love and respect you, but I won’t turn her in to you.” He hugs her tighter to his big body. “She’s mine.”

  “No, she’s a prisoner of Bedlam,” I remind him. “And up until this very moment, you were my soldier. A loyal one.”

  “She’s not a Bedlam prisoner anymore. She’s my wife. The tribal council—”

  “She’s what?” I ask, genuinely shocked. I ball my fists. Rage burns in my throat. “Rollo, the bitch is a master manipulator. You don’t think she’s conned you into falling for her? That it’s all part of her plan to stay alive?”

  “Oh, she tried to manipulate me. I almost killed her for it, too.” He looks down to an apologetic-looking Mona. “Almost.”

  I try reasoning with him instead of beating sense into his thick skull. “It’s all bullshit, Rollo. Use your head. It’s not too late. Turn the bitch over, and let her suffer the consequences of her actions against Bedlam. Your family.”

  “She’s my family now, too. I’d never go against Bedlam, but I’m hoping you’ll side with me on this, and I won’t have to.” Rollo stands straight, widening his stance defensively, ushering Mona behind him. “Don’t ask me to kill her. I won’t do it.”

  “Fine, then I’ll get Sandy to do it,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Then, I have to remind you that I’m of tribal blood. I’m under the protection of the tribe, and now, so is Mona. You can’t harm her. If you don’t believe me, ask the chief.”

  “That’s why you married her,” I groan. “Rollo, you do realize what she’s done? To Tricks? To my family? To her own fucking sister? Do you know who it is you’re actually fucking protecting? Because I don’t think you do.”

  “He knows everything,” Mona says, choking up. “Every horrible detail.”

  “And she’s made amends, more so than you asked of her. She was your bait and almost your human sacrifice. Does that mean anything to you?” Rollo asks. “You’re ruthless, Grim. I know that. But I also know that your black heart beats, and as you’ve said, I’ve been a loyal soldier for years. I’ve never questioned Belly’s leadership or yours. Not once. I’ve fought for you. I’ve killed for you. I’m asking for this one thing in return. Let me deal with her. Let me take her away from Lacking. You won’t ever have to see her again.”

  “Which means you’ll never see your brothers again. Is that what you want?” I ask, growing frustrated.

  Rollo looks pained.

  “Why didn’t you just come to me before?” I yell.

  “I was waiting to see how it played out,” he responds then shakes his head. Maybe, I thought over time you’d just forget about her.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  He blows
out a breath. “Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t feel like I had a choice. Maybe…” he looks to Mona. “Maybe, I just didn’t want to face it all before we had to.”

  “We?” I ask with a laugh, although nothing about this situation is funny. “There was a choice, and you’ve obviously already made it. And it was the wrong one. This decision wasn’t even yours to make. It was Bedlam’s, and more than that, it was hers.” I point to an uncharacteristically quiet Tricks standing beside me, observing Rollo and Mona.

  Tricks sighs and looks to Rollo. “Thank you.”

  Rollo frowns, looking as confused as I feel. “For what? I half-expected you to stab me.”

  “Same,” I offer, raising my eyebrows at my girl, who looks anything other than angry. She looks…relieved.

  Tricks exhales. “I never wanted to decide if Mona lives or dies. Rollo, you’ve taken the decision out of my hands. So again, thank you.” She seems lighter, relieved of the burden of the choice. I feel suddenly guilty for not realizing how hard this has been on her. My simple, brutish mind thought an eye for an eye and the decision an easy one, regardless of a past connection. But to Tricks, there is nothing easy about it.

  I’m about to tell her as much when she speaks again. This time to Mona. “But I can’t have you stay in Lacking, or anywhere near me or my family. At least, not anytime soon. I don’t want you to be separated from your brothers, but I need time. Space.” She looks to Mona. “I appreciate what you’ve done for us, but forgiveness isn’t something I’m capable of where you’re concerned. At least, not right now. But I do hope you find everything you’re looking for. I hope you truly change and take this second chance for what it is. A second chance.” Tricks steps up to Mona. “Because if this is all bullshit—”

  “I’ll kill her myself,” Rollo says. “You have my word, but it isn’t bullshit. And I hope you do forgive her, and maybe someday, we can come back.”

  “I hope that, too,” Tricks says, taking a step back from the confusing as fuck couple.

  Rollo wraps his meaty arm around Mona and tips his chin to me before they walk off into the darkness.

  “The men will think I’m weak if I let Rollo get away with betraying us like this,” I say to Tricks.

  “Do you think I’m weak for being grateful not to have to decide on someone’s life?”

  “No, I think you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met,” I tell her, brushing her lips with mine.

  She smiles, and I know a quote is coming next.

  “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” – Ghandi

  Twenty-Six

  I’m helping Marci at the brothel while Grim and Callum are out looking at potential houses for my parents to purchase. Ma is in the Bedlam living area, watching over Rosey while I sit at the reception desk, attempting to make sense of the computer system.

  “We need a proper receptionist,” I tell Marci as she enters the room with a pile of clean sheets in her hand. “The appointment system isn’t being used properly, if at all. I look down at the calendar on the desk where the girls have been handwriting in appointments instead of entering them into the system. “We can’t properly keep track of accounting unless it’s in the system.”

  “I’ve put an ad out for one, but it’s harder to find someone to work the front desk than it is to find girls willing to work in the back.” She sets the stack of linens down on the counter.

  Erin, one of the Irish temps, walks through the door with a bright smile on her face.

  Erin, as well as several other of the Irish girls, chose to stay at the brothel once the violence ended. Which was great for the business because not a lot of the women who worked here previously had come back as promised. Between the few women who did come back, and the Irish girls who stayed, we were now fully operational, save for a qualified receptionist.

  “Hey Erin, you don’t by chance know of qualified receptionist, do you?” I ask.

  “I used to be a secretary in Ireland a few years back.”

  “You did?” Marci asks.

  Erin nods. “I did. I ran an office of over fifty employees. I’d be more than happy to fill in for a while until you find someone, and I can help train them if you’d like, but I make too much in the back to sit up front full time.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “That would be amazing.”

  Erin smiles cheerfully. “I’ve got to go set up my room. I’ve got a regular coming in a few minutes.”

  “I’ll let you know when he arrives,” I tell her.

  With a smile, Erin heads down the hall. Marci picks up her stack of linens once more and follows.

  The bell above the door rings. I'm expecting it to be Erin’s appointment, but that's not who I find standing before me. My jaw drops when a woman steps tentatively inside and sets down a cardboard box beside her.

  “Leo!” I shout, leaping from the desk, knocking down the chair in the process. I round the counter and throw my arms around her.

  Leo is silent except for a few soft sobs.

  “Leo, what’s wrong? What happened?” I ask, pulling back from her. I keep my hands on her forearms as she looks at me with tear stained eyes.

  Leo's stained black tank top has a severe tear down the seams under her arm, exposing the curve of her right breast. Her denim shorts are worn and filthy. In place of a button, they're being held together with a shoestring. Leo's a thin girl, but now she's downright emaciated. Her shoulder bones are sharp. Her clavicle pronounced. Her sad eyes are sunken like a skull, surrounded by deep dark circles. Tears, both fresh and old, stain her dirt-smudged cheeks.

  Using her eyes, Leo points to the cardboard box beside her.

  I peer inside, gasping at the contents. An infant, swaddled in a newspaper. “You had a baby!” I exclaim.

  One of the things about being a mother is the incorrect assumption that you somehow have the authority to touch other people's children because we are all part of the same club, and we all need a little help now and again. I don't even think before reaching for the infant, cradling it in my arms. "Shit," I look to Leo, "I didn't ask. Is this alright?”

  She nods, smoothing back the child's thick dark hair.

  The baby cries out; its face reddens. I offer it my finger. The baby wraps a chubby little hand around it, pulling it toward his face, he sucks the tip of my finger into its mouth.

  “He’s hungry,” Leo whispers.

  “Do you want a private room to feed him?” I offer.

  She shakes her head and looks to the floor in shame. Her voice trembles. “I…I can’t. I’m polluted. I was clean for a while, but I ..." her eyes water. "I fucked up and...”

  “Shhhh,” I tell her. "Come with me."

  I call out to Marci that I’m stepping away from the desk. She shouts back that she'll be up in a minute.

  Leo follows me as I lead her to the private door that leads to the Bedlam living area. I punch in my code and push open the door.

  My ma stands from the recliner when she sees us come in. Her eyes look to Leo and then to the crying baby in my arms.

  “What do we have here?” she asks.

  “Ma, this is my friend Leo. She was with me at the Los Muertos compound. One of the only people to show me kindness. Leo, this is my mother."

  "Your..." Leo's eyes widen.

  "Yes, my mother," I say proudly. "Trust me. Your shock is nothing compared what mine was when I learned of her."

  "Holy shit," Leo swears, covering her mouth. "You could be twins."

  "That's very kind of you Leo, but I've got some crows feet that might argue with that observation," my mom says, brushing off the compliment, but she's unable to hide the delight in her eyes, and I know for a fact she loves when people tell her how much we look alike.

  My mother stands before me and rubs the back of her finger along the baby's cheek. "And who is this beautiful wee thing?"

  "This is Leo's baby…”

  “Jack,” Leo finishes. “His name is Jack.”r />
  My mother smiles. "He's lovely. What's wrong, little dear?" she coos. "Are ye hungry?"

  I don't miss Leo's wince.

  “Ma, can you do me a big favor and run to the reservation store and grab Jack some formula?” I ask.

  “Not a problem. I was going to wait until Rosey woke from her nap before heading over there myself for a few necessities, but now that you're here to mind her, I'll pop over and be right back in a gif."

  I appreciate the lie for Leo's sake. Ma was just at that store a few hours ago stocking up in items for the Bedlam fridge. "Thank you," I say.

  “Think nothing of it. It won’t be a bother.” She grabs her purse.

  After she leaves I guide Leo over to the couch.

  Jack's wailing grows louder.

  The store is only fifteen minutes away by car, but thinking of Jack going another thirty minutes without food heightens my maternal anxiety as my heart breaks for both him and Leo.

  “You had a baby,” Leo whispers, looking over at Rosey’s portable crib where my baby is fast asleep, clutching her little white blanket, filling the room with the sweet sound of baby snores.

  “I did,” I say over Jack's cries. Suddenly, I feel wet. “I think little Jack peed on me,” I say lifting him from my lap.

  “No, I don't think that's it.” Leo stares at my chest where two big wet spots have leaked through my bra and t-shirt.

  “It’s because he’s crying,” I explain. “Rosey’s cries always set them off like this.”

  Jacks little face contorts with unhappiness. His trembling lips expose little red angry gums underneath.

  I look at Leo. I don't want to offend her, but I can't take it anymore. I have to do something. “Would you mind if I.." I start, but stop and start again. “Rosey’s not awake yet to feed, and it would be a more of a favor to me because it’s ridiculously painful if they’re full for too long.”

  “Oh please. Please do,” Leo says, her words filled with relief. "Thank you."

  I lift my shirt and unsnap my bra. It takes little Jack a moment to realize what’s going on, but after a few moments and some hushed words of encouragement from both Leo and myself, he finally takes my nipple in his mouth. His screams replaced with the sound of soft sucks and swallows that sound like little sighs of relief.