by Jesse Jordan
“Trying to take all of K-S for me?” I ask. “Later… let me meet my children.”
Su Lin smiles and comes forward, setting a little bundle in a pink shirt and gray shorts in my arms. “Meet Roxanna Meixiu Kelley. Roxy, say hello to Daddy.”
“And before you get too comfortable…” Freida says, “meet Alexander Jahlong Kelley. Alex, Daddy.”
The twins look at me with big eyes, both of them staring at me with rapturous fascination as I look at them the same way. They’re so beautiful, both of them with the rich dark hair of their mother, but I can see slight differences. Alex has my chin while Roxy has eyes more like Su Lin’s than mine. Alex reaches up with a tiny, chubby little fist and grabs a hold of my beard, apparently they’ve let it grow some. “Ow!”
Alex laughs, and Roxy joins in. I smile through the pain and hold them close, kissing them both on top of the head. “Thank you,” I whisper, looking at Su Lin. “Thank you, my love. I promise you, I’m going to be a good husband and father for the three of you.”
“I know,” Su Lin says, kissing my forehead. “For now though, rest. We’ll get you home soon, and then the hard work starts.”
“What hard work?” I ask, my arms both relieved and missing my children as soon as they’re lifted from me.
“Simple,” Freida says as Su Lin gives Alex a kiss on the cheek. “She and I have a bet to see who walks first, you or them. My money’s on Roxy. She’s a spunky little one.”
Su Lin
The bar trembles and slows, but doesn’t stop as Rick presses with all of his might. My hands are waiting just in case, but he’s told me he wants to prove something to himself. I understand, so I let him. “Come on Rick, you can do it.”
Rick grunts, the rock music throbbing through the room as he pushes harder, and with a final heave he gets the bar up and to lockout before he lets me help him rack the bar. Sure, two hundred and twenty five pounds doesn’t seem like much, especially to a man who used to do things that would make athletes on Ninja Warrior look on with respect… but for a man who weighed only a hundred and sixteen pounds and was given up for dead by almost the entire world, it’s a hell of a hurdle.
“I did it,” he gasps, lying still for a moment before rolling to his feet and jumping in excitement. “Two plates!”
“You did. Happy almost birthday,” I congratulate him, passing him a bottle of intra-workout supplement drink. “Now drink up.”
It’s been amazing watching Rick over the past six months. Dedicated to rebuilding himself and making up for lost time, he’s managed the two with the same devotion and focus that I know will eventually lead him back to the boardroom and the lab. For now though, I’m just enjoying life. Tomorrow is the twins’ first birthday, and we plan on celebrating it fully even if they won’t remember it.
Rick swallows his drink, wincing at the flavor before handing it back to me. “I think I can do with just the post-workout from now on. God those are horrible. Six months of it is enough.”
“Nope,” I tease, taking the bottle and putting it down while Rick strips the bar for me. “Not until you do a full salmon ladder again.”
Rick growls and glances over at the apparatus on the wall, where the bar’s still stuck on the lowest notch. He can do pullups again, but the strength for the salmon ladder? That’s a ways off. “You know, someday I’m going to have Alex and Roxy in here with us.”
“I look forward to it,” I reply, laying down on the bench. “We’ll make it a family fun thing. Besides, I’d like to see Alex and Roxy learn some wushu.”
Rick comes over, looking down on me. “Jiu-jitsu.”
“Wushu,” I reply, grinning up at him.
“Jiu-jitsu!” Rick mock growls, straddling the bench. “Or else.”
“Or else what?” I ask, reaching down and running my hands over his hips. “You’re going to tie me up and punish me?”
“There’s a use for the equipment that I hadn’t thought of,” Rick says. He leans down, grabbing the bar for balance as I bring my hand between his legs, cupping and fondling his balls. Rick moans lightly, and I grin as his legs tremble while I massage him through his shorts. “You torture me.”
“You know you like it,” I joke as I slide a hand up the leg of his shorts and caress his cock. “Now… what are your intentions with this steely bar?”
“Mmmm…” Rick moans as I stroke him, “since I missed so much of the last pregnancy, I was kinda thinking….”
“Oh, you want me pregnant again?” I tease, sliding down the bench. “You just think you can fill me with this thick, delicious cock of yours and get me barefoot and with child again like that, huh?”
“Well, it’s not like we can’t afford it,” Rick reminds me. “I know the cost of raising children is going up but….”
“But you’ve already got me pregnant again,” I finish for him. Rick pushes up, staring at me in wonder and I nod, smiling. “I was going to tell you tomorrow, but I took the test yesterday. This time, you get to be with us through the whole thing.”
I reach out with a slow hand and cup Rick’s cock through his shorts again. Reaching up, I find the waistband and tug his shorts down until he pops free, and I grin. “This is something I did miss the first time.”
Rick grins and reaches down, taking a fistful of my hair as he guides my mouth towards his cock. I let my lips stretch around the velvety pink head before running my tongue along the shaft, kissing and licking him as I look up into my husband’s eyes. The feeling of intense power, his hand tugging on my hair while I have his balls in the palm of my hand, sends shivers down my spine. I open my mouth more, sucking him slowly into my hungry, eager mouth.
Rick feeds me his cock, pumping in and out as my tongue caresses and my lips worship his immense manhood, fondling his balls and letting him know how much he means to me. I swallow every inch, my heart hammering in my chest as he pulls out, reaching down and pulling me to my feet.
“I’m not going to be greedy,” Rick says, his hands powerful on my arms. It’s amazing, how such a little thing can make me give into him, but no man has ever had the strength in their hands that Rick does. “Instead, I’m going to make sure you have plenty to enjoy.”
“Is that so?” I tease, reaching down and stroking his cock. “Such as what?”
“Such as…” Rick says before suddenly falling backwards onto the exercise mat, grinning. “You get to choose.”
“Is that so?” I ask, getting down on the mat next to him. “Well then… open your mouth. I had a cocksucking to finish.”
Rick grins as I swing my left leg over his head, positioning my pussy above his eager lips and bend forward. It’s a stretch, we are different heights, but as Rick bends his head forwards I can tilt his cock towards my mouth. His tongue touches the tip of my clit just as I lick the head of his cock, both of us moaning at the sensation.
“Excu- sorry!” I hear from the door, making us both pause. I start to laugh, until my laugh turns into a moan as Rick strokes his tongue down my pussy lips.
“I’ll apologize later,” Rick says, wrapping his arms around my ass and pulling his mouth to me. He slips his tongue inside, stroking and triggering every nerve inside me, daring me to lose control first, but I won’t let him.
Instead, I open my mouth and swallow his cock, bobbing my head up and down while my tongue swirls around the tip of his cock, stroking and teasing the spots I know he likes best. Rick growls into my pussy, and the two of us challenge each other.
Sweat pours down my forehead as I grapple with him, seeing who is going to give in to the other first. I fondle his balls, even teasing his asshole with my fingertips as he gives it back to me just as good, his tongue dancing over my clit before driving deep into my pussy.
It’s beautiful torture, and it continues, my mouth aching even as I grind my pussy uncontrollably on Rick’s tongue and fingers. He pulls my cheeks apart and I freeze for an instant, knowing what’s coming. I pour myself into what I’m doing even as I feel his thumb brus
h against my asshole, and with a slight pressure he pops inside me.
It triggers me, and I lose it, coming all over his face and moaning deeply around his thick cock. Thankfully, he’s not far behind me, and as my moan becomes a cry of delight he fills my mouth with his thick, delicious cum. I swallow each and every drop, relishing in the release as he drinks my own juices.
Rolling off of him, I lay on the mat, sweat drying on my skin and a smile teasing around my lips. “So… that was a good workout.”
Rick chuckles and turns around on the mat next to me, holding his head up with a cocked arm as he trails his fingertips down my spine. “Yep. Hey, what did you get the kids for their birthday?”
I roll to my side, caressing Rick’s face. “Not much. I know Freida’s planning a cake, things like that. But let’s face it, the twins don’t exactly need presents. What were you thinking?”
Rick smiles and kisses the tip of my nose. “I was thinking two things. One, I want to get back in the lab. My brain’s been buzzing with that solar energy idea still.”
“Okay,” I agree. I can’t stop Rick from being inventive any more than he could stop me from being Chinese. “And two?”
“That before I do, I want to celebrate a birthday, and celebrate time with my family.”
I grin, and reach over, pulling him on top of me. “Well then, think you can celebrate with me a second time?”
Rick grins, and kisses my lips. “I’m sure I can figure out a way.”
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His Prisoner
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Jessica
Where am I?
For that matter..... who am I?
My body feels cold, and I open my eyes to find myself naked, shivering, and lying on a filthy scrap of cardboard in what can only be described as a cage. I can't call it a cell, it's too fucking tiny to be a cell. In fact, as I start to look around, it looks like someone locked me in a dog pound from hell.
The room isn't that big, about twenty feet across and maybe thirty feet long. On three sides of the room, away from the double door that looks like it's solid steel are cages just like mine. Most of them are filled from what I can see, some of them girls like me, naked and just standing or sitting on their scraps of carpet. Some of the cages have girls that look like they're not so much sleeping as they're knocked out. Most of the cages are too small for them to even be laid out properly, their arms and legs just stuffed in at uncomfortable angles.
What happened?
I try to think back, and all I get are fuzzy, swimmy images. I was on a beach.... somewhere with a lot of old buildings.... a man, offering to buy me a drink..... a nightclub.....
I feel like it's starting to come back to me, but it's still so jumbled, and I'm still not sure what the hell's going on. I remember a little bit more about myself, like the fact that I'm American, and I just graduated from Rutgers in December.... I came to Europe for a vacation... but there's still so much...
A thick, fearful moan comes from my right, and I notice for the first time the men that are in the room. One look, and I can see that they're criminals of some kind, their upper bodies covered in crude but distinctly patterned tattoos, twisting and interlocking over their chests, arms and even for some of them on their hands and necks. For most of them, their skin is swarthy, almost with an interior shine that at first glance you'd think would be sweat, but seems more likely to be oil. It's really far too cool to have anyone sweat, even if they're sort of clothed and I'm as naked as the day I was born.
The moan comes from the girl at the end of the line, one of two cells that're maybe slightly larger than the rest because they make up the bottom of the U-shape in the cells. She's awake but looks groggy, not fully aware of where she is. Then again, I'm not too sure of where I am.
“What's wrong, baby? You were loving it last time,” one of the thugs down on the end say in a heavily accented voice. If I were to make a guess, I'd say the Middle East, but I'm no master of languages. Well, at least I don't think I am. For some reason I think I like chemicals, whatever that means.
“No.... I said no..... last time too,” the girl futilely protests. “I don't want....”
“Don't you get it yet? You don't get to decide what you want any more,” the same thickly accented thug says before smacking one of his compatriots on the chest. “Hassim here's never had a Canadian girl before. It'd be impolite to say no. You fuck him good, you get better owner for later. We put in good word for you, you get kind owner who pays big money for you. Big money owners take care their slaves, don't want to lose their investment.”
“Really?” the girl asks miserably, and the thug nods. I can tell that he's lying, I can hear it in the mocking tone of his voice, but this girl is too dulled to notice, or maybe she's too broken down to think clearly and she believes the lie. Instead, she nods, her spirit broken as she backs up the few feet that her cell gives her. Hassim opens the cage door, already reaching for the belt on his filthy, crusted work pants, and even here, halfway down the line, I can see the disgust on the girl's face as she sees whatever it is he pulls out.
“Don't worry, it look bad but feel good,” the English speaking thug says as Hassim takes the girl and pushes her to her knees. “It's just a scar, not a disease.”
I can't watch any more, I'm too horrified even though maybe there's a lesson in this that I can use. Instead I turn away, forcing my eyes shut but unable to block out the sounds of the girl's cries of pain.
“Hey, new girl.... hey, the tag says Jessica.”
Jessica, that's right. My name's Jessica, Jessica Prince. I open my eyes to see another thug outside my cell, an amused smile on her face. He's not the same one that was speaking before, he's skinnier, and while he's still thuggish, his accent's different, and he looks slightly more intelligent. “You look like you don't like the fun and games. What, are you some stuck up tight cunt?”
“It's fucking disgusting,” I reply, staring at his hideous face. “That's not fun and games. She's getting raped.”
“And it won't be the first time. It sure as fuck won't be the last,” the man says, laughing. “You new, so let me explain. This is the slave pens, where we gather our shipment to send to our customers. I hope you like hot, because you're going to be very, very hot in a few months in your new home.”
“Fuck you,” I growl, spitting at his feet. “I'm an American citizen, you can't do this to me.”
“Ooooh, an American citizen!” the thug taunts, stepping back and raising his hands as if he's afraid. “Hey guys, we got a real American citizen here!”
A few of the other thugs, hearing their compatriot's laughing jibe, turn, intrigued in the new entertainment as apparently Hassim raping the Canadian girl has gotten boring. About half of them, four or five, peel off to come over, their eyes drinking me in greedily as they look me over from head to toe. As they do, they make comments like I'm some sort of animal at a 4H Club show.
“E un culo fabuloso!”
“She real woman, not girl.”
“Pretty face... very pretty face.”
“She's a ride and a half!”
There's other comments, but I can't understand them, or perhaps the language or accent is too strong for me to pick up. All I know is I can feel their eyes roaming over me, and it disgusts me.
It's not that I'm naked. I'm proud of my body, and they're right, I am a real woman, more woman than these fuckwits can handle. What disgusts me is that they think that they're able to handle me. They think that I'm nothing more than big tits, a good looking face, and a sweet ass. They think that I'm easy to deal with.
Wait, where the hell is all this coming from? Doesn't matter, I'm not gonna stop.
“You limp dicks look like you couldn't last two minutes with me,” I taunt back, feeling my anger rising. I see one of them that I couldn't understand, but I can understand the look in his
eyes and way he's licking his lips. “If you even got a chance. What'd you last there, Mushmouth? Thirty seconds, if you even got it in?”
The men, those who understand English at least, laugh. It seems I'm entertainment. The man I taunted is needled by his friends in another language. I can tell pretty much what they're saying. Hey man, she's punking you out. You gonna take that?
“You get ready, bitch. I start you training, show you real man,” Mushmouth says in broken, angry English, going to my cage door. He shrugs off his shirt and takes off his belt, I guess he doesn't want to waste any time. Whatever. One of his buddies opens the cage door and I back up the little bit I can, I don't want him anywhere close to his friends when that door closes. “Yeah, that what I thought. All talk, no....”
More of my memories sort themselves out, and I know all my fight knowledge comes from Steet-Fu, but I've seen the 'pimp slap' a hundred times in my life. I roll with it, taking it close to my neck instead of across the mouth before I kick across with my left leg, stomping the thug on the inside of his knee. His leg buckles, his head pitching forward into my rising elbow. His nose blooms red, and he staggers back, groping for the cage door to be let out by his compatriots. More of my brain clicks back into place, and I realize where I get my attitude from.
“All talk, no bite? Try you all talk, and no balls. I'm from Jersey, bitch. Step to me, you gonna find out. How you doin'?” I growl, pissed. My accent only gets really bad when I'm pissed. It's like the angrier I get, the more I sound like I'm from the Shore.
The thugs harass and laugh at the now angry Mushmouth, who's still holding his nose. He wipes the blood away from his lip, sneering, spitting something in his native language which the leader laughs at and points before translating for me.
“You need big training,” he says, smirking. “That's fine, we have ways of breaking even the most hard headed.”
