Simmer: An Inferno World Novella

by Measha Stone

  “Yes, sir.” He nods, his fingers wiggling again. Poor boy. His guilt is so heavy, he’s anxious to finish his apology. “I shouldn’t have given Nicolette my bacon yesterday morning. It was disrespectful to you.”

  I pinch my lips together as I study him for a long moment.

  “Thank you, son, for your words.” I get closer to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “But as you know, words only go so far.”

  His gaze lowers to my chest, and he gives a curt nod. A little squeeze to his shoulder, and his hands are back on his belt.

  “No, son. I don’t think that’s needed.” I put more pressure on his shoulder, and he glides easily to his knees before me.

  He quickly unhooks my belt and unbuttons my jeans. I realize the door is still open, but that’s okay. There’s no hiding in our home.

  Elijah’s warm hand wraps around my hard shaft, pulling my cock out and slipping it into his mouth. The wetness of his tongue runs along the bottom of my head, and the heat as he wraps his lips tight around my shaft make me moan.

  “Fuck, that’s good.” I touch my hand lightly to the top of his head. I won’t grab him or thrust into him. This is his apology. His tongue flicks along the underside of my dick—a trick I’m sure he’s learned from Nicolette. He strokes me harder and harder while he sucks me into his throat.

  My balls clench. It’s been a long day and his sweet apology has me rushing toward the finish line.

  “Good. Yeah, like that. Just like that,” I praise. I’m going to praise Nicolette later for being such a good sister and teaching her brother how to be so loving to me. Rewards keep good behavior going.

  My balls pull tight, and I fist his hair as my release overwhelms me. I growl with the force of my orgasm, holding him in place as cum spurts onto his tongue and down his throat. Like a good boy, he holds steady until my heart slows and my body softens.

  Gently, I pull away from him and let him redress me. Once my belt is back in place, I tap his lips. “Go on.” He swallows the gift of my forgiveness.

  Elijah gets up from his knees and waits for me.

  “It’s been a long day. Get to bed. You missed all your chores today, so you’ll have to catch up tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Papa,” he says dutifully. “I’ll get all caught up.”

  “I know you will.” I smile at him, pride in my heart. He’s taking this lesson seriously. “Off to bed.” I pat his shoulder and leave him to get ready, closing the door behind me as I enter the hall.

  I pause outside his door and take in a deep breath. Being a good father is hard. Drawing the boundaries and making sure everyone stays within them while creating a loving home, so they never feel chaos in their hearts—it’s a lot of work. But my boys are learning, and Nicolette is doing a fair job herself.

  I hear Mark moving around in his room, but don’t bother him with good nights. I need a shower, and he’s probably getting ready for his evening. I stop at the top of the stairs, hear the water still running in the kitchen, and smile to myself.

  The house is calm. I can relax now.

  Papa’s finished with Elijah, and the shower’s on in the bathroom. I stretch my arms over my head, feeling the warmth of my muscles pulling across my back. With Elijah in the shed, I had to chuck out the pig pen on my own. I don’t hold a grudge, though. I know he’s paid the price for stepping outside the clearly drawn lines in our family. And since Papa’s in the shower and Elijah’s still in his room, I know his apology has been accepted. He’s been cleansed.

  He’ll help me double tomorrow, so I’m not worried.

  Rolling my head from side to side, I work out the kink in my neck. It’s been a long ass day, but I still have one more thing to do—one of the best parts of my day, really. It’s a responsibility, one of the more important ones Papa’s given me, but I don’t look at it with annoyance. Not like when I have to clean out the pens. I hate that shit. Getting the muck all over my boots and having to clean them.

  We don’t waste shit here, and we don’t hoard more than we need. One pair of boots is more than enough, Papa says, so I have to be sure I keep them in good working order.

  But taking care of Nicolette, teaching and guiding her, it’s not like walking around a pen full of pig shit. And tonight, it’s even better, because she’s been such a good girl for Papa.

  Nicolette knocks softly on my doorframe. I left the door open, so she knew to check with me before going to her own room. Communication is important—clearly drawn boundaries so there’s no confusion of what’s expected.

  “Mark?” she asks in her gentle voice. “I’m done downstairs.”

  I turn around to face her. Her straight black hair hangs loose around her face, the ends barely brushing her shoulders. I miss the way she wore it before, down to her breasts. The tips tickled her nipples when she stood in front of me naked, making them pert and ready for me. But she didn’t tie her hair back while she cooked, and Papa had found a strand in his eggs. She’s lucky he didn’t shave her head and only cut it up to her ears. Thankfully, it’s starting to grow out.

  “Good. Did you put the dishes away?” I move around my bed, making my way to the door.

  “Yep. And I have the eggs and bacon set aside in the fridge for breakfast. There isn’t enough bacon to make the whole pound. Papa hasn’t said when he’s getting groceries, so I’m rationing until then,” she explains. I like this, when she’s at ease and casual. Sometimes when we talk, fear underlies her voice, but tonight, she’s relaxed. It’s good. She deserves it today.

  “He’ll go when he’s ready,” I remind her. She can’t dictate when any of us do our chores—it’s not her place.

  “I know. I’m just being careful with what we have,” she explains, folding her hands in front of her. There’s a wet spot on her dress. The white fabric has become transparent, and I can see the darkness of her nipple. I lick my lips.

  “Good idea. You’ve been real good today,” I say, brushing my fingertips along her jaw. “Papa said I can reward you tonight. Come in.” I move aside so she can pass me.

  Her gaze drops a fraction, but she doesn’t hesitate. I’ve had to teach her lessons before about thinking too much when I tell her to come to my bed. I’m happy she’s learned them well. I don’t like having to punish her. But I will whenever it’s needed. I won’t let chaos into our family, and a woman who doesn’t understand her place will bring turmoil.

  I close my door quietly.

  “I was thinking. My birthday is coming up in a few weeks. I thought maybe…do you think Papa would let me…” She wrings her hands while babbling.

  I grab her hands in mine, holding them until she brings her gaze up to mine.

  “What are you asking, Nicolette?” I ask with a smile. She’s cute when she’s unsure.

  “I was hoping he’d let me have a few more books. I’ve read all the one’s we have here over and over,” she asks tentatively.

  “I think that would be okay to ask for,” I assure her, letting her hands go. “Just don’t be bitchy if he says no,” I remind her. Sometimes, she gets pouty when she’s not allowed something. I know she tries to hide it, but Papa can always pick up on her attitude, and he won’t allow it from her.

  He went through so much with his own mama growing up. She was always complaining and putting down Grandpa, trying to make him feel like less of a man to get what she wanted. He’s told us how hard it was for them to see Grandpa bow to her emotional tantrums. Thankfully, his uncle, Luke, showed up in Grandpa’s life and helped him sort grandma out.

  Papa won’t let this house get like that, and he’s taught me well to keep it from happening once I take Nicolette as my full wife. That won’t happen until her belly swells, though.

  “Okay. I’ll ask tomorrow at breakfast. But if he says no, I’m okay with that,” she hurries to assure me.

  I chuckle. “You’re a good girl, Nicolette. I know you’ll be respectful to Papa.” My fingers trail along her collarbone sticking out from beneath the lace neckline
of her dress to the thin blue ribbons tied into a bow. With a slow tug, I release the tie and let the front of her dress open for me, exposing the soft curve of her breasts.

  One day, my baby will suckle there, but until then, they’re all mine.

  Three small, white, beaded buttons keep the dress closed enough I can’t get to her fullness, so I quickly undo them, sliding my hand inside the dress once I have full access. She closes her eyes and turns her face from me. I’ll let her have her moment of privacy, for now. I know sometimes she finds it hard to obey when I’m loving on her. She’s been Papa’s for so long, she probably feels guilty letting me and Elijah love her too now that we’re old enough.

  Having her dress splayed open for me, I lower my head and take one nipple into my mouth. Moaning, I flick my tongue over the taught flesh. She’s so good, letting me suckle her. She hisses when my teeth bite down.

  “That’s right, Nicolette, let me love you my way,” I say, walking her back to the bed. I release her and motion for her to climb on, which she does like the very best girl for me.

  She’s being rewarded tonight, so there’s no fear in her eyes. She knows Papa taught me everything I need to know on how to make this so good for her. The lessons were awkward at first, I was too young to know anything about making her body feel the pleasure it can feel when she deserves it. But over the last three years, I’ve practiced, and Papa helped with everything. She’s not worried.

  I peel off my shirt and shuck out of my jeans, tossing them on the floor beside the bed before crawling on it with her.

  Nicolette adjusts the pillows until she’s got them settled beneath her head and her hands are folded sweetly on her stomach. She’s so good, waiting for my instruction.

  “Panties?” I ask, running my hands up her thighs to just below the hem of her dress.

  “No,” she says, giving me a soft smile. She’s only allowed to wear them when she has her monthly. Papa’s rule is she’s always available to us, so she can’t hide her pussy from us with panties, but it’s not practical to make her bleed all over her clothes. Her hole is always ours, even during her monthly, but he’s right—no need to let her ruin her clothes.

  “Good.” I’m relieved because what I want right now wouldn’t be possible if she was bleeding. I’d have to just fuck her, and I don’t want to just use her hole. I want to taste her. She likes that best.

  I push her legs apart and flip up her dress, exposing the most beautiful part of her—the prettiest part of any woman.

  There’s a little patch of dark curls right over her sex, and I run my fingers through them. Watching her expression, I fist the hair until her eyes fly open wide and she seeks out my gaze. Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth. Little tease. She knows how much that drives me wild.

  I let her go with an approving wink and sink down on the bed until I’m flat on my belly and her pussy is right below my mouth.

  “Keep her legs open, Nicolette. This pussy is mine, and I don’t want you trying to get in my way,” I remind her, waiting for her to spread herself even more for me. A simple sign, but it speaks volumes. She knows her place is beneath me, and she’s ready for me to take her.

  I groan when my tongue touches her clit. Such a sweet smell, a delicious flavor. I thrust my tongue between her pussy lips and drag it down to her hole, flicking at it quickly before licking back upward. With my thumbs, I open her lips, revealing the sweet pink flesh beneath.

  “I want you to come for me like this, Nicolette. I want to taste your cum,” I tell her pointedly, so she knows I mean business. “Do you understand me?” She needs to get in the habit of responding to me faster. When I give her an instruction, she needs to tell me she understands. No miscommunications.

  “I understand,” she promises. Her lips kick up to the right in a half smile.

  I don’t waste any more time. We both deserve to have our fill. I lash at her clit with my tongue just like Papa taught me. He’d shown me how to do it three times before letting me try it myself. But he didn’t let me take her on my own until he was satisfied he’d seen me do it right enough times first.

  Her muscles start to tighten in her thighs, and her breathing picks up as I continue to work my tongue over her. Fuck, she’s like a drug; her pussy tastes so fucking good. I hope she’s good again tomorrow and Papa lets me reward her. He doesn’t like playing favorites, though, so Elijah may get to praise her. For now, I’m focusing on this sweet pussy that belongs to us.

  Slipping two of my fingers into her cunt, I curl them while biting down on her clit. She gifts me with a groan and raises her hips from the bed. I love it when she speaks out at my touch, so I don’t reprimand her. She’s not giving me a dictate; she’s just enjoying what I’m giving her.

  “Mark.” She huffs. “Oh, Mark.” Her hands slap the bed beside her, and she fists the material. “Please.”

  “Don’t ask, do it,” I demand. I’d been clear about that. I let it slide, but it’s the last thing I’ll let her get away with, otherwise she’ll get spoiled.

  I thrust a third finger into her cunt, fucking her hole hard as I suckle and lick her clit.

  She arches again, and her thighs start to close, but she opens them again, remember what I told her. Her pussy grips me. She’s going to explode. I fuck her harder and lick her clit faster, until she’s writhing beneath my mouth, screaming out with her release.

  She’s not allowed to hold in her pleasure. Everyone gets to hear her when she’s allowed to come. Over and over again, she calls out my name, letting Papa and Elijah know I’ve done my job.

  As her pussy starts to ease around my fingers, I slip them out, giving her pussy one more soft kiss before I rise up.

  “Such a messy girl,” I tease her, then shove my wet fingers into her mouth, making her clean them for me.

  Her tongue laps up her juices, but I don’t remove my hand when she’s done. I tug at her cheek, keeping her mouth hooked on my fingers, and plow into her cunt with one hard thrust.

  “Fuck,” I groan. Her pussy is hot and wet and waiting for me. This is what she was made for.

  She wraps her legs around my hips as I drive into her over and over. Her hands come up to my chest and she runs her nails down my pecks, intensifying the electric sparks jumping from one nerve to the next throughout my body.

  “Fuck. Fuck,” I chant each time my cock thrusts into her.

  I let go of her mouth and wrap my hand around her throat. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t stop me. She learned last time what happens when she gets in my way. Thirty lashes with my belt and a day in the shed taught her well.

  Her cheeks redden as she scrambles for air, but she keeps her hands on my chest. Fuck, she’s getting so good. She’s going to make the best wife.

  My balls tighten, and it’s only a matter of seconds before I’m at the edge. Her eyes start to bulge slightly, and I hurdle over the cliff into a purple haze of utopia. I release her throat and thrust once, twice, then freeze in pleasure as my cock spurts my cum deep inside her.

  She’s still sucking in large gulps of air when I roll off her. I lay on my back beside her, staring up at the ceiling, trying to catch my own breath.

  I glance at her when she coughs.

  “You okay?” I didn’t hold her down too hard. She better not be starting with a pity party. I know she doesn’t like it when I take her air away, but it’s not her place to complain. If she’s going to get all worked up about it, I’ll have to teach her a lesson.

  “I’m fine. Thank you,” she says, softly clearing her throat. “Thank you for my reward.”

  I grunt in approval. It’s getting colder at night with fall coming, and she’s on my blankets.

  “Go on now.” I shove her shoulder a little. Hurt crosses her face as she looks at me, but she keeps her mouth shut.

  She pushes her dress back down around her hips and sits up in the bed to rebutton the top.

  “No.” I hit her hands away. “Keep your clothes like I made them. Stop by Papa’
s room to make sure he doesn’t need anything then hit the sack.”

  Her shoulders slump a little, but she gives me a nod.

  “Okay, Mark.” She slips off the bed and pads across the room. Her bare feet make no noise against the wooden floorboards.

  When she’s gone, I climb under my covers and flip off my light. Papa will be happy when he sees her. She’ll tell him how good I did with her reward.

  I roll over to my side and look out the window at the woods surrounding our house. It’s already too dark to see clear, but the moonlight shines through the tree limbs, calming me into sleep.

  It was a good day.

  Nicolette sits on the edge of the couch, a book laid open in her lap. She trails the tip of her finger along the words on the page as she reads Charlotte’s Web to me. It’s part of her schooling, to learn to read out loud without stumbling over the words. Papa says it’s so she can read to her children one day without looking silly, but I think he secretly likes being read to.

  “What was that word?” I ask when she hesitates. I’m working on the fireplace. A few stones have come loose, and if another falls to the floor, Papa will be disappointed in me—again. My ass and back still ache from the caning he gave me two days ago; I can’t endure that again so soon.

  “Uh, sedentary?” Her forehead wrinkles.

  “It’s okay, Nicolette. Try the sentence again,” I say, then turn back to work more grout between the stones. She’s doing pretty good, but she’s read this page three times already. She shouldn’t be stumbling like this.

  Papa would tell me to encourage her more firmly, but she’s trying so hard. I don’t like making her worry, and if I jump on her back about this, she’s going to be tense.

  “I’m glad I’m a sedentary spider,” she says, pausing to look up at me, a wide smile on her face.

  “Keep going.”

  I scoot over to the other side of the fireplace while she continues reading in the sweet voice that soothes all the aches in my soul. She starts to become more animated, using special voices for each of the characters. I can’t help but smile when she forces her tone down to characterize the pig.