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“Laura… please think about what you’re doing.” Travis pleaded with the two teens; his broken voice seemed borderline pathetic to his own ears. It lacked the confidence and authority it held moments ago before the young blonde tricked him, filching the pistol from his person and trapping him inside her cell.
The younger man positioned at the free side of the bars watched the Sheriff with unempathetic sea foam eyes. The two held their gazes together, secretly challenging the other.
The young woman loitering just behind them remains quiet. Travis gives her no mind, opting to stare Max down while the thick humidity of the cell block created a clammy veil of sweat over his skin. The older man felt a mustache of perspiration form on his upper lip while sweat accumulated on himself as well.
Lunging inwards, Max mimicked an aggressive movement towards Travis, the flat of his forearm and palm ready to backhand the grown man. The jerky movement of the perceived assault triggered Travis into a conditioned reflex.
The cop’s body saw the movement of an elbow turning out, locking an arm to spring for his face. Unfortunately for Travis, his mind had not comprehended the futility of his dodge.
Travis’s muscle memory kicked in. During that urgent instant, Travis took a quick step back and resisted the compulsion to duck down. He realized too late that Max couldn’t physically contact him through the protection of the iron material that divided the two. His wrinkled face tightened, teeth clinching with enough pressure to illicit a throbbing pain in his jaw.
Max’s hand returns to his side, a satisfied air of accomplishment worn over his features.
“You’re not so tough.” The boy whispers, loud enough for all three to hear. Travis grits his jaw even tighter, the tension adding to his now growing headache through the pressure of his gums.
“Why don’t you take some time? Think about why you’re in here?” With his final words spoken the young man moved away, leaving Travis to stare at Laura. She had been holding still, watching him with her one good eye.
Travis feels his muscles continue to stiffen as he gazes at her. His body was becoming so stiff by now that his back began to hurt. Max’s shadow eventually leaves his peripheral view, though his steps continue to bounce off the walls.
Travis’s eyes softened at Laura, silently pleading with her. To do something, anything. To leave the cell key for him to grab later. To tell him that she wants to work together. Hell, maybe explain that she and Max are going to return to normal life – werewolf curse be damned.
Anything would have been better than the intense silence they shared, with a look in her eye that he couldn’t pin. Travis failed to reflect the thoughts that translated to her face. Was it resentment? Hatred? Pity?
Laura maintained her place across the bars staring back, her face unreadable. His vision traced down her arm and locked onto the angry pink burn marks he caused a month prior. Her skin was still healing, superficial layer of flesh mending with white dry flakes. Light brown patches exposed intact scabs, thick lines ridging up as her arm recovered.
Her skin was probably scarred for life, just like her eye.
He panned back to her gauze wrapped face. Laura had refused to let him touch her, much less stitch the long gashes on her cheek. They split down under her covered eye, the flesh surrounding the bold lacerations both red and disfiguring.
Travis couldn’t help but tighten his lips; he felt the muscles of his face spasm letting loose a soft sigh with a soft blink – exposing his stress to the trained eye. Whether he admitted to it or not, he did feel guilty for all the traumas she had experienced; both physical and mental. She would be scarred for life in both ways.
If he could somehow take it back, he would. He would stop her from tricking him the first time, prevent himself from revealing the camp at the quarry. Then perhaps He would just be joining his father and brother today for the same hunt they’ve been doing for nearly six years now.
She swallowed her tongue, commenting on neither their position nor her thoughts. It wasn’t until Max came back was she urged onward, out of their prison and towards their freedom, leaving Travis alone to plot his escape out of the locked cell.
Their incoherent voices fade in the growing distance as he blankly observes at his own feet. He can even hear them shuffling and unlocking a door, the sounds of his old key ring faintly reverberating into the cell room and teasing him.
Travis shifts his weight, twisting his body with one foot in front of the other in a repetition of pattern. Within a few long strides he was already against the jail cell sink. He scowled as he rotated his gait, approaching the inscribed wall the late journalist carved.
His feet shuffled to a stop as he examined the etched scribble through the paint. The day he dragged in that journalist came into his mind. He should have learned his lesson when he ultimately had to murder that man. But no, he had to save those kids. It didn’t help at the time that They were around the age of his nephew and niece.
His direction changed and his pacing continued alongside his train of thought, turning wall to wall like one of those big cats he saw at the zoo as a kid. He exhaled a stressed sigh.
Because of Travis’s moral code, an additional werewolf was now loose in the world. Ma would never let him live his life without constantly reminding him of this mistake. The uniformed man had to stop himself at rolling his eyes at the thought.
He clenched his teeth as he reminded himself of the hunt with Pa and Bobby tonight. How the hell was he getting out? He sped up his pace, taking larger strides between his steps as he walked back and forth.
The cop made a mental checklist of the items he still had on his person. He still had his equipment, minus his pistol. His cell phone was on his desk. He still had his radio, Travis concluded. He could call for help.
“Fuck.” He repeated his thought aloud, shifting his eyes to the ceiling in agitation. He could call for help, but how was he going to explain this situation? ‘Sorry, Pa. I let a werewolf escape.’ Was not going to work out well for him.
It was almost embarrassing that a fifty-six-year-old man still acted like a teenager at the face of his nearly eighty-year-old parents. Too afraid of their reaction to properly explain the direness of a situation he’d caused.
It was always him that had to face the brunt of their disappointment. Never Bobby, with his disability – though his younger brother had more control than they had given him credit for. Still, they always coddled him to the point of negligence. It for sure was never Chris, the ultimate victim in this fucked up family curse. Always, Travis was the one that ‘had to be responsible’ for family. He was the eldest, He had an important job. Fuck that.
He didn’t know if it was because Chris was the golden child, the favorite of his parents – or if they placed the responsibility on him as the eldest brother. Honestly, that had always been the situation. Long before the curse and before they had become adults.
In fact, Travis had built his own life. Living in a townhome in North kill before his own mother guilted him into selling everything and moving back to his childhood home. Every damn penny he’d made was put back into some plot or plan to capture Silas. Never as much as a ‘thank you’ from anyone – as if they had simply expected him to drop his life completely for family. He would have, to an extent. But not as far as when his own parents shamed him.
Travis must have been deep in thought for about half an hour – thinking in repetition of his plans to escape the cell. He may as well radio Bobby, he could trust his younger brother not to toss Travis under the bus – intentionally at least. His youngest brother never asked too many questions.
Knowing bobby, he would come down to the abandoned station within twenty minutes, ask a few sensible questions and maybe laugh at his older brother locking himself in the cells. Travis nodded to himself in short bursts. If he were lucky, his parents wouldn’t hear a word of this and maybe he would have the chance to recapture those two teens. The last thing the world needed was another loose werewolf wondering about.
The soft rasps of echoing footsteps draw his attention and Travis freezes, his muscles grow taut. The man stands as still as a statue, head fixated to the small window of view he has past the horizontal metal bars.
Someone was here already?
Travis looks at the sunlight that casts the shadows of cell bars against the far wall. The day was not over yet. Maybe Chris came back to check on the kids before heading back to Hackett manor and locking himself away for the night?
The tabs thump louder, signifying the proximity of their origin. Travis excitedly marches to the bars, momentarily confused when the familiar straw-colored ponytail returns to his view. When the girl steps up to the cell, his heart feels as if it had inverted into his throat. “Laura,” He starts. He can see her eyeing him with a calculating stare though he’s too relieved to see her again to dwell on it.
“Laura, you need to let me out.” He repeats her name in a pleading shudder, speaking with her as she comes closer into the center of his view.
“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, but there’s not much time. The full moon is tonight, and I need to get out. Now.” His sleeved arms flaunt in the air, as if to exaggerate the urgency behind his words that his eyes cannot quite convey.
The young woman doesn’t say anything, her presence just as eerily quiet as she had been just a half hour prior. The way she stands, looking at him in the cage begins to unsettle him. He clings onto the hope that she’s reconsidered keeping him in the cell and has decided to help him end the curse - together.
Laura jingles the cell keys as she moves to unlock the cell door. Travis involuntarily sighs, tense muscles slacking and aching immediately. His body closed the empty space between himself and the barred gate.
“You won’t regret this Laura, I promise.” Travis is hopeful, his shoulders slumped back, back throbbing from being uptight for so long. His fingers weave through his locks, pulling back his hair in a slicking motion. “Thank god.” He doesn’t know what else to say. Maybe he didn’t have to keep the couple locked up for as long as he had. Maybe he should have just trusted them after explaining the werewolf curse to them.
Laura parts the barred door, its hinges creaking in a painful frequency that violates his eardrums. A puff of satisfaction leaves his lips as his legs stride to her, the starchy sway of his pants sliding when he moves to exit the cell.
Just as he maneuvers himself between Laura and the open entrance of the cell, the smaller woman moves into an unexpected defensive posture.
Laura quickly withdrew his familiar pistol from the waistband of the sweatpants he’d given her. His sweatpants. She held the metallic weapon with both her hands, her good eye narrowing into a serious glare. His attention snaps to her and he quickly backpedals several steps.
Travis’ brows fly halfway across his forehead, stretching the wrinkles around his eyes taut. Another wave of panic sets in him from her unexpected action. His steps root in place and he freezes, recognizing this event from earlier. Perhaps he could make another grab for the gun and seize it from her possession?
“Back up!” Laura’s voice has a seriousness and authoritative tone to it, perhaps mimicking his old presence – demanding he stand back from the bars.
Travis takes several more steps back without a second thought, listening to her order. He takes her as seriously now as when she first purloined the pistol from his holster. His head nearly bobs down in a submissive gesture, instinctually trying to make himself appear smaller and less of a threat to the petite woman while looking to her from under his brows.
Laura enters the cell with two strides, gun pointed barrel aimed at him “On your knees.” Her order is simple, yet his mind does not process her demand properly. It takes him a moment of staring at her in another moronic moment before he finds one word.
“What?” It’s simple, and he did hear her properly. His mind, however, had to double check his ears. As if his own body was playing a game of telephone. His brain rejected the simple order Laura had just barked at him.
“Did I stutter? I said. On. Your. Knees.” Her words sound agitated. Already, she was losing patience with him. Her good eye was piercing him, daring him to defy her.
Travis stood struck stupid at the absurdity of the events unfolding. Why did she come back just to bark orders at him? The Sheriff briefly wonders if this was an extreme taste of how she treated Max, making demands, and dictating what she wanted of any man in front of her.
Travis was inclined to laugh at himself and the situation unfolding. How was it that such a young and physically weaker woman could hold the higher ground over him? He maintained her stare with his own flabbergasted gaze before reality returned to him.
Laura circles closer, forcing him further back. The muscles of his calves hit the cot itself before he knew she’d corralled him into a position against the object. Travis nearly wanted to curse himself out, falling into another one of her traps. It’s like he couldn’t help himself but be tricked by her. Judging by the look on half her face, she was enjoying this.
The older man must have been thinking for too long, he watches in horror as she points the gun to his leg. Her one eye, switching from his leg to his face. The reality of what she’s about to do hits him and another, fresh wound of panic bleeds into his heart.
“Fine, shit.” He slowly kneels, mind rapidly jumping to a plethora of conclusions.
Why was it that she was doing this? Did she forget something and come back to retrieve it from his body? Did she want to extract more information from him? Has she returned because she changed her mind and she wanted to finish him off?
Travis slowly shifts his weight, bending his non dominant leg. The knee complains with an internal squeak and an audible click. He can practically feel the cartilage scrape against the bone of his shin. The action hurts and he found himself grabbing the cot behind him for balance.
He pauses, his body screaming at him to go slowly. Automatically, he grimaces and urges his body to continue moving, albeit a little slower this time. He can feel the resistance of his legs, his kneecap clicking against his joint in another loud series of cracks.
“Jesus, you really are an old man.” Laura sneered, the insult hitting him directly at his pride. “I can hear those bones cracking from here.” Her sarcastic laugh mocks his ears. For reasons beyond him, heat radiates his face.
Travis swallows, debating in his head if his words would only instigate her further. “What do you want?” The Sheriff finally asks, kneeling on the dirty cement flooring of the cell. His hands instinctually float to the air above his head.
“Still have those handcuffs?” Laura asks, completely sidelining his question. Her head cocks to the side, her uncovered eye crawling up and down his frame in search of them.
Travis frowns, answering her immediately. “Yeah?” He didn’t know where she was leading off to but didn’t add more to the conversation – in hopes that he could somehow deescalate the situation by his submission to her and carefully selected words.
“I want you to cuff yourself.” Laura raises an eyebrow, somehow commanding in her voice.
His face instantly scrunches, her request obviously baffling him. Travis wanted to add with a ‘You’re kidding’. He was already unarmed and in a cell, – She couldn’t be serious; she didn’t really return to the police station just to make such ludicrous demands of him.
“Excuse me?” he balked, not fully believing in the situation he was currently in.
“Did I fucking stutter?” Laura cursed at him, her weapon barrel wavering to his hands repeatedly in a gesture of aggression, an unspoken threat.
His brows shot up as he reached for his hips to retrieve the cuffs from the attachment of his belt. Laura obviously meant business and he didn’t want to test her while in an uncomfortable position kneeling on the floor.
“Fine. Fine, I’ll do it.” Travis’ forehead creases, his wide eyes encouraging his wrinkles to deepen.
As his hands reached for the metal implements, Travis pulls one end of the metal cuffs to his wrist, looping it around and clicking it loosely onto his one wrist. Now partially bound, he maintains nervous eye contact with Laura. His heart beating painfully in his own chest. “Okay,” he added, unsure if she wanted him to cuff himself completely. She still looked expectant, so he tightened the other end around his free wrist.
Whatever this girl was planning: it was a big deal.
The rattling of the cuffs signified the further tightening of the mechanism. He searched for an ounce of expression in her eyes. He felt completely off put in this situation – as if he was at the opposing end of the interrogation table. Just waiting for her next set of demeaning demands. It was, unfortunately, a position he was familiar with, however uncomfortable in terms of how his own mother treated him.
“What now? Miss Kearney?”
His question seemed to antagonize the tick of her eyebrows, as if he somehow annoyed her with the formal greeting. “You listen to what I say, when I say it.”
Travis felt the adrenaline rush through him, sharpening his vision and stiffening the strings of his muscles. His lips tightened into a grimace, slacked jaw exposing his slight under bite. He quickly weighs his options before his lungs deflate in defeat.
With the man at her feet now completely defenseless and bound Laura seemed to relax a smidge, closing in their distance more openly. The tug of a smug smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.
Travis feels vulnerable and uncomfortable, almost as if he is at Laura’s whims. He doesn’t necessarily see maliciousness in her eye but senses something nefarious bound to happen, it maintains the tension in his muscles as if his body wants to prepare for an upcoming fight.
“You know what?” Laura announced, her voice dripping with unbridled seriousness. “I want you to unbutton your shirt.”
Travis, now blatantly confused – regarded the woman half his age in pure unfiltered befuddlement.
“Excuse me?”
“I said. Take. Off. Your. Fucking. Clothes.” Laura threatened, her tone elaborating on every word.
Instantly Travis had a flashback of him threatening Max. He realized that this may be revenge for the young man. His eyes peered just behind her, wondering where the boy was. His vision returns to the intimidating woman.
There is an intense moment where Travis stares Laura down – partially in defiance – partially in disbelief.
“You can’t be serious.” He finally breaks the silence, his eyebrows knitting. Laura could easily commandeer his taser if she wanted. However, she still appeared to be frustrated, even impatient with him. “What do you really want from me?” The sentence spills off the tip of his tongue, the man genuinely confused.
It was then a deafening shot broke through the air, puncturing his eardrums, and forcing Travis to flinch halfway into the air, adrenaline instantly curdling into his veins. His hands attempted to cover his ears; however, he was only able to shelter one ear in the after blow of the piercing shot.
Just as his body recovered, He glanced to his shoulder. Directly next to him was the unraveling and destroyed bullet hole in the cot, its innards shredding out from the mattress not unlike a fabric crater. It takes him a solid thirty seconds to finally speak.
“Fuck, Fuck fine.” Travis’ words are urgent as his fingers when he attempts to quickly unbutton his uniform shirt. He doesn’t know how to fully remove the shirt while cuffed but parts it open, exposing his clavicle.
The way she looks at him rings alarm bells through his head. Travis feels as if he needed to back up farther into the steel metal of the cot. His spine pressed painfully into the cot frame, in a pathetic attempt to maintain the space between himself and the woman young enough to be his daughter.
As his fingers thread eyeholes, they continue working down and expose the bare sternum of his chest. He didn’t know what to think of her wandering eye, the way it flickered between his face to his cuffed hands.
Laura gusted a few steps forward, her foot a little too close to his inner thigh. He sucked in a breath and held still. His eyes targeting her boot, a pending fear of her causing him pain crept into him. Words refuse to grace his lips, his own lack of experience in this situation was not helping him find the proper way to react.
“you’re such a shitty person.” Laura stepped onto the tender meat off his inside thigh, forcing Travis to curl his nostrils as he looked at the ground next to him. It hurt like an accidental jab from a tabletop, nothing unbearable – just like a large pinch on the more tender part of his body.
For a reason probably embedded in the darkest part of his mind, he found himself almost enjoying this – the rough foot play teetering left and right between his scrotum and inside thighs. Travis watched in disbelief; eyes wide at her slow assault.
He wanted to beg her to stop, to make some kind of bargain with her. A new concern abruptly pulled him away from his logical thoughts, a growing epiphany that he would want her to continue anyway. It sickened him, but he wanted to ask her to take off her shoes so he could watch her dainty feet press deep into him.
“I bet you got off on keeping me in here, sick fuck.” Laura then pressed her boot painfully onto his thigh; putting her body weight on the leg and grinding into his flesh as if she were snuffing out a cigarette.
Travis grit his teeth forcefully, looking down at their point of contact with a grimace. He didn’t want to show weakness to Laura, especially when it was his reaction that she wanted. Still, there was something about having an actual interaction with a woman, even in a mockery of intimacy.
He couldn’t help but physically cave into the attention she was giving him. It had been so long since he was last touched that his body decided to act on its own, instinct prodding his body to be ready for further interaction.
Her one eye looks surprised as she looks down at him, he felt her boot slide off his thigh as she toed underneath his groin, letting his bulge rest atop her boot. Travis nearly pushes his hands down before he realized what she’s pointing out with her toes.
“Are you seriously getting off on this? Of all things?” She scoffed, shaking her head at him mockingly.
Travis’ face radiated heat, a desire to sink underneath the cot nearly compelled him to lean back. He wanted to disappear, to melt away from her judgmental gaze. His blush intensifies on his cheeks as laughter rolls from Laura, her eye narrows at him.
“God, I knew you were a sad man. But being this desperate for a shred of attention?” She loomed over him, her nostrils flaring in disgust. “You’re more pathetic than I thought.”
Instantly Travis scoots his body back into the cot, alarmed by her aggression. “Laura,” He spoke quickly but firmly – brows raised in a wide-eyed fashion, the wrinkles of his forehead turning into deep creases. Just as Travis figures out that he cannot back away any farther on the ground, she presses just barely into his balls.
It was if every gram of pressure was a five-pound weight.
“I bet you wanted to strip search me the night Max mauled my face.” The accusing words cut at Travis’ heart, weakening his will to fight back.
There was no way this was happening. Why is it that Laura returned to torment him like this? He briefly wondered if there was a reality where she somehow used his own tranquilizer on him in their earlier fight, and he was having a nightmare at this very moment.
“Laura, please.” He begged. “You know it’s not like that. I had to protect…” He trails off, wanting to find the correct words to convince Laura to release him. He pauses through the next bout of pain she gifts him, her boot carelessly flexing pressure and releasing him as she pleased.
“I had to protect the public, my family, everyone.” He couldn’t help but let the truth slide out. “Max couldn’t go free, not while he was infected.”
Laura presses just a little harder into his crotch this time, too hard. Travis feels the muscles of his thigh tense and jumps underneath her boot. The pressure on him causes a nausea of pain and he sucks in a breath, thinking of a way - any way he can make her stop. “Laura, you don’t have to do this.”
“I don’t?” She presses deeper. Impulsively Travis wanted to throw her off and protect his loins.
“Laura,” He tried again to appeal to her. He’s attempting to plead to her more empathetic side. His stomach squeezes up into his torso, nausea swirling inside his stomach. In a primitive instinct to protect himself, both his cuffed hands shot out to grip Laura’s ankle. “Laura, stop!” The panic lingers in his tone; however, he backs it behind a facade of authority.
She teasingly releases her weight off his crotch for just a moment before pressing into his flesh again in a cruel game she’s dictated. The pain is far too much now, automatically bringing tears to his eyes like a mule kick to his stomach. In that split second of pure agony Travis wanted to ball up to his side.
Instinctually Travis’ fingers hook into the thick of Laura’s boots with his cuffed hands. His grip wrapped around her petite ankle and shoved her weight off in a bodily rage of self-preservation.
He gasps a pathetic groan, the air completely deflating in a forceful gust from his lungs. In that moment of agony, Travis’ vision briefly went black. Dark stars of muted blues and yellows spotted the background. His body flopped to the side, his cheek meeting with cement.
He turns his head back to its position facing her, despite being unable to see her. He felt tears threaten his eyes, his stomach nearly spasmed in an urge to regurgitate. As he regathers his breath he looks up from the ground, Laura had rediscovered her stance, standing over him and looking proud of herself.
Before long, he felt the pain begin to subside, alongside it his energy left him as well. Travis sucked on his tongue, willing away the remainder of the fading nausea. He would be sore for a while, even after such a soft tab to his groin.
She walks alongside him, testing the restriction of the cuffs by pulling at them roughly from the crook of his arms. She yanks so hard; she braces him against the cot once again.
“The fuck was that for?” his words practically vomit out of his throat, his body needing time to recover. His stomach felt so raw. His hands move to cup himself over his uniform trousers as he doubles over to his side on the ground – protecting himself from further assault.
“You enjoyed busting my balls for the past two months, I decided to return the favor.” There’s a singsong melody behind her words. Travis only had enough spare energy to look up at her face wincing against the rough concrete flooring.
Travis pushes back to a sitting position with the aid of his bound hands, side eyeing Laura with a fearful and bitter glare. He wanted so badly to reverse the situation, to have her under his foot as he degraded her.
He could feel his fingers quaking no matter how he stilled to calm or steady himself.
His upper lip pulled up in a lopsided feature of disbelief, his brows bunching with dark eyes staring up at her in disbelief He could feel debris and cement clumps of the ground press painfully into his skin. “Jesus, so, what? You came back just to fuck with me?”
“No,” Laura cocked her head to the side. “But I sure could have fun with you.”
Travis slowly moves up, his shoulder meeting his cheek in an awkward attempt to peel away small pebbles that clung to his face. She kicked at the inside of his legs, physically forcing his attention.
“Keep taking off your clothes, old fuck.” Her facial muscles twitch to irritation, her grimace deepening her laugh lines.
Travis sits at the foot of the cot, mouth suddenly going dry. His thoughts nearly short circuit, not knowing what to say or how to tell her no. His eyes returned to the pistol, his head shaking.
“What is this about, Laura?” His cuffed hands uncup his crotch as he shakes his hands angrily. “You think coming back and – and – forcing me into doing embarrassing things?”
Laura steps both feet together between his legs. The man’s muscles contracted, almost afraid for her next move. She kicks his hamstrings none too gently. “Part your legs wider, officer.”
There was a part of his brain that still rejected the orders she’d been barking left and right.
“I’m restrained, Laura. What do you want now?” Travis can feel sweat building up on his skin, a little dripping from his temples.
At least he didn’t feel a boner coming on again.
The way she looks at him, the smile on her face unsettles him. It was as if she was enjoying this – the previous tense expression from half an hour ago is now gone.
“Bend over and kiss my feet.” Laura takes a few steps backwards and motions to her shoes with the barrel of the weapon in her hand.
The dryness spreads now to his throat, making it tight and itchy. She’s doing this just to embarrass him, maybe get a rise out of him. He steals a fleeting glance at his purloined pistol and nods reluctantly. He’ll play her twisted game, for now.
He leans forward, his hands catching himself when pressed by an unexpected weight: Laura’s other foot pressing against the shirt on his back. He chances a glance upwards, Her face smug and happy at his degradation. His head turns back to her black boot – dusty and unclean.
Travis took a breath in before he leaned in, kissing it with exaggerated clicks. He works from the toe and travels up to the laces, intending on avoiding the bottom of the shoes. The tip of her boot pulls his face up by the chin. Laura leers down, frown shadowed on her features.
“Put it in your mouth.” The feminine voice above him rang.
Travis snapped his jaw shut and turned his lips in, thinking. His vision remained cemented to the laces intertwined through the eyeholes of her shoe. “I’d rather you take off your boot.”
Laura stills, seemingly to consider his request. “I’ll let you take it off if you choke on my foot.”
Only one question resided in his mind at that moment– Did she actually want to choke him?
His hands awkwardly move to her toe and heel, the chain of his cuff drastically reducing his mobility and forcing his movement to be rather clumsy. It slides off with a little resistance, exposing her sock.
The boot hits the floor with a hollow thud, both his hands cradling her foot. Travis’ fingertips go to the neck of her sock, rolling it down to her ankle.
“No,” Laura flexes her foot, pressing it hard against his cheek. “Pull my sock off with your teeth.”
A weak airy whimper leaves Travis’ nostrils. He imagined his defiance ending with the pistol flush against his skin in an unspoken threat.
He stares at her sock, reluctance thrust upon him. Still, this was his preference between the two options.
His lips tentatively part, teeth gingerly pinching the cotton fabric in a shy bite. The article of clothing resists his pull, clinging to her foot.
Laura laughs above him, as if he were a dog playing tug of war beneath her. Travis, growing upset at her treatment of him, grasped her ankle in a forceful grip before clamping down and pulling her sock hard.
It finally slipped off her and went slack in his mouth. Travis released it, lips aiding in dropping it away from him.
“I didn’t expect you to get so excited over this.” Laura toes his parted lips and he jerks his head back in revulsion.
“Come on, officer Hackett, don’t be shy.”
Travis sighs, staring at her foot. It was nice – or as nice as feet go, with dainty toes that have been left neglected for the past two months, the polish on her nail almost chipped away entirely.
He felt her weight dip down into his hand before he willed his mouth open, slowly welcoming her toes into his mouth. He awkwardly sits on the floor, her foot in his mouth, not knowing what more to do.
“You can take more.”
And just like that his eyes watered again, her leg flexing and shoving her foot practically down his throat. Just like earlier, he attempted to pull his face away from her, except she wouldn’t let him.
“Naw-uh,” Her voice shamed him, making him still against his better judgment. His wet eyes look up to her in a plea. “Work it…” She encouraged, her toenails nearly scratching the inside of his throat.
He resisted the gagging pull of his stomach, the reflex of his uvula that was being prodded rippled a series of uncontrollable spasm. He tried to swallow down the feeling, her body part in the way. Travis tried to create a suction with his lips enclosed around the balls of her feet before giving into his instincts and pulling away. He coughs and gasps for air, tsk’s from Laura teasing him from above.
Already, he can taste the throaty mucus on his lips. He looks up at her saliva and bile dripping down his chin, wondering if she was going to make him continue or if she was bored of that activity already.
“I hope your mouth is okay...” Laura fingers a stray hair away from his forehead. The act was repulsively intimate and sickeningly sweet. He was incredibly dubious of her actions.
The blonde leans forward, whispering above him. “Because you’re not getting out of this situation.”
Travis knows she’s already made up her mind, she’s just playing some kind of mental game with him.
Travis had been suspicious of her intentions this entire time, hell. He still didn’t fully understand her angle – other than to humiliate him; but when she stepped away to pull off the sweatpants over her feet did he feel his head reeling. The T-shirt he had given her was too long to allow him the peek of skin he so desperately wanted -without knowing he even wanted it.
The T-shirt hung a little before her mid thighs, exposing her silky-smooth skin – her old tan slightly faded from being locked away in a sunless room for so long. From this position he could see her intimate hair regrown from his refusal to hand her a razor. Still, she looked incredibly soft.
His mouth parts to speak – though his words fail to vocalize through the weak wind of hair blowing through his throat. His head shakes side to side, eyes wide and not pulling away from the skin he could see.
“There’s no way I’m fucking you.” He doesn’t believe his own words, doesn’t know how to convince himself that he doesn’t enjoy this – that he doesn’t want her to take on her revenge in this manner.
Laura has the audacity to laugh at him. It feels even more degrading from his position on the floor. “Like you have a say in what’s about to happen?” Her voice is almost singsong in her taunting, A Cheshire smile sharpening at the edges of her mouth.
Again, she walks over him, His eyes go to her bare feet and suddenly he’s fantasizing about her stepping on him again. She stands just over him, her hips level to his face and hand clutched to the hem of his T-shirt. “I know you don’t really like to talk, Sheriff. Let’s see if your tongue is just as reluctant to work.”
She lifts the curtain of fabric, and his eyes immediately stare into the stubble of her mound. It’s as if his face is broken, constantly slacking or surprised all the time he’s been in this cell. He lets out a small rasp of a chuckle. Apparently before he kidnapped her, she shaved it all – judging by the buzzcut of her mons.
He entertained the idea of lunging his tongue between her folds. He had never had the chance of tasting a woman. Back in his day, the church girls were not this bold. Maybe younger girls these days have looser morals. Maybe he had broken her by isolating her in the cell for too long.
It was then an obvious question illuminated in his head.
“I don’t think Max would be too happy with this. You cheating on him, wherever he is.” He said flatly, his eyes lingering between her legs before lifting his vision to see why she was so silent.
Her face burned furiously with his statement. After a moment she looked to the side, collecting herself and her emotions. Her reluctance to immediately answer brewed a tension in the air.
“He broke up with me.”
Travis twisted his head, ear turned towards her. “What?” His face tightened in confusion. Upper lip, nose, cheeks, and brows all pulling together to convey his bewilderment.
“Not that it’s any of your business. But I’m not a scumbag like you – he broke up with me. Something about how I’m too controlling and demanding, even from inside a prison cell.”
“I can see why.” Travis sympathized with Max. Needless to say, he had noticed how Laura took control of conversations with her obstinate and commanding attitude. He could only imagine the strain he created between them by keeping them together in jail. Never touching or seeing another, only listening without any reprieve.
In a flash of anger Laura grasps his hair, clamping control of his scalp and painfully pulling his head back, He grunts in pain, the tissue of his throat pulling uncomfortably.
“Wanna say that again, Sergeant Littledick?” She practically hissed over him.
Travis felt his adams apple struggle to bob as he swallowed, eyes watering from being overwhelmed. The pain from Laura’s assault was fading, the deep ache leaving his abused crotch and allowing another hard on to start again. He inhales quickly, exhaling carefully in a controlled release.
“Nothing, Ma’am.”
Laura squeezed tighter; He didn’t know why but he truly enjoyed calling her by that title. Something about a woman in charge of his life – That wasn’t his own mother. It resonated deep inside him. His desire to please them. To please Laura.
“Wanna try again and put that mouth of yours to better use?”
His eyes grow wide, glancing down at his nose to the shirt that had fallen and covered her soft looking thighs again. Travis rolled the inside of his bottom lip between his dull canines. There could be worse things Laura can force him to do.
Travis’ teeth released his chapped lip, his mouth clicking as it sprang back. “Yeah, sure.”
Her grip loosens on his hair and again, she hiked up her shirt with her legs stanced in a triangle. The metal cuffs rub off on each other in clangs as his hand reaches for her prickly lips. He watched her outer labia part at his probing, his fingers sliding between the folds feeling for himself how slick she already was.
Was she getting off on this?
His fingertips grazed over a thick substance, helping his phalanges glide smoothly against her inner labia with no resistance. He teetered back and forth, feeling the crevices of her intimate parts. The motion felt forced and uncomfortable with his hands cuffed together. Still, Travis couldn’t stop the emotion of excitement from building in him.
“You often play with your food?” Chided Laura impatiently.
The chuckle elicited from Travis was a genuine one, a small smile lighting his face until he looked up to Laura. Her serious frown startled him enough to drop his grin.
His eyes followed the outline of her body’s subtle curves, from her tight waist to her hip dips and muscular thighs. His bound hands reach out to touch her, touching her thigh tenderly with a firm grim. As he admired the soft bulges of her skin under the pressure of his fingertips.
Travis had a sudden craving to taste her, more intense than his addiction to the bottle. Laura must have grown impatient, her hand moving to pull his skull.
If anyone had told him two months ago that Laura would have locked him in his own cell and that she would be holding him under gunpoint for a sexual favor; He would have not only laughed at them but charged them with substance abuse.
Travis resisted the pressure she was applying to the back of his head, eyes defiantly glaring up at her. She was getting off on this. Perhaps, it was his own fault. Keeping her holed up in a cell alone. It’s possible that this was just another faucet of her personality.
His eyes turn back to her stubbled lips. His tongue glides across the inside of his lower incisors, playing with the gaps and smoothness of his own teeth. He wondered to himself, if a part of him wanted this, why resist?
He stopped resisting Laura’s hand, face falling nose first into the split of her mound, her stubble probably wasn’t as course to him as his own was to her. His lips pressed into her in a perverted kiss, oral muscle pushing her apart to further explore her.
Travis feels his body become weak and sweaty from his nerves and excitement. His own heartbeat becomes deafened by the sounds of him slurping, his cuffed hands threading behind her body and grasping her ass to press her harder into his desperate mouth.
This intense activity was causing him to shake internally, he hadn’t touched a woman like this in far too long. Not that he had a chance to do anything with his family pulling his strings.
He feels as if he was suffocating against her pussy. His tongue thrusting out and pressing against her velvety flesh. He could feel the combination of his saliva and her fluids create a film over his face, clinging onto his shadowed beard. Her hands press painfully against his scalp, fingers of one hand fisting his hair, the other firmly gripping the pistol and pressing the side of it against the back of his skull.
“Fuck, your hair is thin” Her laughter is followed by a sharp gasp of pleasure. Travis finds himself enjoying the fact he can silence her with his tongue and finds her gasp to be enough encouragement to use the muscle of his mouth further into her.
His cuffed hands clench her cheeks from between her legs, pressing her crotch closer into his face. The smell of her sex nearly overwhelmed his senses, her thick scent warm and filling his nostrils with her humid femininity.
The more he stimulated her, the thicker the air around her cunt became.
“Fuck, Travis. Who would have known that mouth of yours could do this.” She gasped again, hips trying to pull away. Travis refused to release his grip on her, his lips parting her labia and teeth pinching her clit softly. All with a tongue flicking violently as she began to spasm over him.
Her wailing is like music to his ears, her fingers flexed, her fingers twisting in his hair painfully, pulling at his scalp while banging at his shoulder with the grip of his pistol in her fist. There’s a sick part of him that gets off on this.
Her body contracts with a throaty groan, her vocals vibrating in her own throat. Her salty fluid flooding into his mouth that he drank greedily. He continued this routine – Travis’ own body driven to elicit more reactions of hers.
“Stop, stop, fuck.” Laura gasped, clearly overstimulated and clamoring for him to discontinue.
Travis ignored her, feeling greedy with the control he suddenly had over this situation. His tongue was growing sore, his fingers pressed hard into the meat of her ass, a thumb rimming the ring of muscle of her anus for additional stimulation. The salty tang of her body suddenly tasted like honey, he wanted more.
Travis could feel the muscles of her legs begin to give, her free hand shot down to his shoulder for stability, the fingertips digging into his shoulder painfully hard. Her could feel her wetness drip off his chin.
Hard, cold metal pressed deeply against the side of his head, a click nearly deafening the ear towards it. Travis recognizes the object in an instant, having long been familiar with the item and he ceases his efforts.
“Stop.” Laura was breathing heavily now, eyes not nearly as blue any longer as her irises had been dominated by her dilated pupils.
Travis withdrew his mouth away from her, his chin suddenly feeling sticky in the surrounding air. He licked his chapped lips, her taste still clinging to his skin as he continued staring up to that icy blue eye. “You know, you really shouldn’t wave that thing around.”
“Well, you really shouldn’t piss me off.” Was her nonchalant answer, her chest still undulating in breaths.
Travis turns his mouth in, her slickness helping his lips glide over each other while he presses them together. His eyes follow up the pistol, over her arm and down her quivering thighs. “Don’t you want more?” Judging by her leering eyes - Travis hit the nail on the head, infuriating Laura.
The girl’s hair is disheveled, her personal untidiness somehow pleasing him.
Probably because she was disorganized from his attention.
“Why anyone want you?”
Her words hit Travis harder than he expected, her question was one he’d asked himself a lot in his life. He tried to navigate his insecurity to reality. That Laura had just forced his to partially undress and eat her out until he couldn’t breathe. She obviously wanted him.
Right?
“Because you have some built up resentment to blow off?” He couldn’t believe his own words, was he really trying to talk his way into getting his dick wet? “So you can have some form of closure?”
Her eye narrows down at him while She tightens her expression, shuffling her mouth to the side. Travis feels a cramp building in his neck from the angle and weight he had on his face. He rolls his neck side to side as Laura continues to think.
“Fine, pull your dick out.”
Travis feels…. Stupid. He couldn’t help but release a laugh at the absurdity. Returning to the room she’d been trapped in for two months? Forcing her captor to eat her out?
“You gonna buy me dinner first, ma’am?”
“I thought you just ate out.”
Travis finds himself unable to stifle a chuckle. “I guess I did.”
She lowered herself on him, Travis watched slack jawed – his mouth out turning in the shape of a loose ‘o’. The man couldn’t deny it, she felt amazing and tight around him. His eyes were glued to their colliding hips, her vaginal lips wrapped taut around his shaft. He exhaled a heavy breath as she settled onto his lap.
Laura looks down at him, the same smug look on her face as when she asked him if he could even read her license just a few months earlier. “I want you to beg.”
Travis tilts his head back to the cot, focusing on the ceiling of the cell. He closes his eyes, thinking. “I want to see your breasts.”
“That doesn’t sound like begging to me. Try harder.”
Again, Travis turned his pleading eyes to the ceiling. “Please, Laura. I want to see you.” He wanted so badly to look at her as he asked, He just couldn’t bring himself to stare at her.
Laura sucks in her cheeks, unimpressed by his request. “Is that all you got, old man?”
He swallows dryly, the muscles of his throat so tight it constricts his esophagus. “I haven’t had the touch of a woman in so long.” He feels his voice to be so weak that he refuses to look into her eyes. There’s an old shame that crept up on him – almost the shame of exposing any emotion around his father, except worse. The pathetic weakness of being unlovable and craving affection.
A part of him liked her treating him like this, he deserved it. He couldn’t believe he enjoyed this terrible dynamic.
“I’m not surprised. A degenerate like you would have to kidnap a woman just to get some action.”
She begins rocking slowly in his lap, her canal tight over him.
Travis is stuck between groaning and holding back tears. He loves the warmth she offers, and he wanted nothing more than to shred both their clothes off just to have skin on skin contact. “Laura, I need to see you, I need to feel you.”
Laura sits up taller, angling his dick deeper into her, stimulating another groan from his throat. “I need this so bad, girl. I need you. Please.”
Laura leaned back, allowing him to look down and see where they had joined. Her vaginal lips were swollen, opening like a peace lily. With his phallic organ splitting her and exposing her pink tissue. His breath hitched, releasing a breathy exhale while his dick throbbed for more. He pushed up, tensing the muscles of his legs to reach deeper inside of her.
“Still have the key to those cuffs, Officer?”
Travis’ eyes instantly burn with a needy fire. “Yeah, left side of my belt, next to the pepper spray.” He moves his hand before the sting of a slap curtails his movement.
“Hands behind your head.”
Travis supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised. Already, he was dick deep in her and at her mercy. Some dark seed inside his soul enjoyed her orders, found a thrill in her abuse.
All he could think of was how he was growing a fondness for her demands, an excitement forming at listening to her and pleasing her. He brought his hands up from between them, wrists finding purchase on the crown of his head.
As Laura leans forward to retrieve his cuff keys, Travis sees an opportunity to get her closer to him.
He tilts his hips and thrusts up forcefully, finding instant gratification in knocking her off balance. Her body falls into his and he takes the risk to crane into her neck. Sneaking a kiss to her skin.
His face is cascaded by the thin strands tickling his face. He wanted so badly to run his ringers up from the nape of her neck and hold her head captive in his grasp. His lips parted against her neck, urgently licking down to her collarbone.
The cold hard sensation of a pistol barrel is placed under his chin. An accomplished breath exhales out of his mouth, the air from his lungs puffing against her clammy skin. He looked at her, a full-blown smile gracing his face for the first time in many years.
He was confident that she wouldn’t pull the trigger while he was still inside her.
“You’re so fucking sad.” Laura holds the pistol in place, her other hand unlocking one of his cuffs that bound him.
Laura took the hand with his cuff keys and wiped her neck, as if he had slobbered all over her skin and the clinging feeling revolted her. She examined her palm with curled nostrils, chin flexing from her exaggerated frown. She sighs, her annoyance obvious just in her body language.
She holds her expression, her face warning him to stop. Travis’ smile faltered at her scowl – his accomplished face softening into one of caution. Laura dangles the small keys with the keyring on her finger.
“You can cuff yourself to the cot now.”
Travis’ jaw slacks, bottom lip downturned in dissatisfaction. “I can’t touch you?”
“Only good boys can touch.”
Travis feels himself deflating himself a bit at the ironically familiar nickname. It stirs the instant compulsion to listen to her. If she had spoken any other words, he might have fought back to stay uncuffed, maybe even turn the tables on Laura, pick her up and just fuck her face down on the cell floor.
Instead, he let all rational thought take the back seat as he gingerly removed his hands from his head and took the keys. He maintains his gaze as he slowly uncuffs a hand, flinching as she filches the key back from his hand.
His forearms wrap around his back, blindly searching for the foot of the bed.
“No.” Laura drew out the word in one long syllable, halting Travis. “Cuff yourself to the headboard.”
Travis sucked on his tongue; cheeks slightly sucked in a pucker. It was no surprise that Laura was thinking ahead, probably predicting that he would pull himself out from under the cot leg. He threaded the metal restraints through the barred headboard, securing his wrists behind him with a clicking rattle.
“If I’m good, think you’ll let me touch?” Travis clenched his face eyes shut in a grimace at himself, mortified he how he was now speaking to her. She hasn’t been back but for maybe twenty minutes and here he was, plying her with his pleas like a child bartering with his mother.
“Only because I like this side of you.” Laura leans forward, draping her arms around his neck, pulling their forms closer together. Travis feels goosebumps just from the bare skin of her arms around the nape of his neck. He couldn’t help but enjoy how warm her skin was. This had to be the most contact he’s had in such a long time. Not even his own mother hugged him in years.
He wanted so badly to hold her, to grab her hips with both hands and force her to grind against him. He wanted to dictate her pace. He couldn’t even move his arms around her neck and pull at her hair – by that damn ponytail and force her to grunt in response to what he was doing to him.
But he couldn’t take control.
She knew what she was doing when she first told him to wear those damn cuffs.
Laura now has him by the shoulders, grinding into him with a face of pure ecstasy. Her moans shook him to his core, brewing a craving for more. Her eyes begin to glaze in the moment, not looking at him but rather over him. Her platinum strands had become loose in her hair tie, cascading over her face in a fine thin valance over her face.
Pleasuring her is all he wanted.
Tantalizing breasts bounced with every thrust he pushed into her. Travis tried to lean forward, mouth intent on capturing her pink bud in a wet kiss. The restriction of the cuffs pulled back at him, and her arms locked on his shoulders, maintaining her distance just out of reach.
He could only imagine how soft her nipples would be on his tongue, how well her breast would form to the suctioning of his mouth., how the salty taste of her skin would fill his senses.
How hard he could have made those nipples with his teeth.
Instead, he focused on the flex of his glutes, the contraction of his abs. If he couldn’t lick or feel her, at least he could please her. Make her squirm, earn mews and moans from her throat. Witness her writhe and rock over his body.
Watching her over him became too much, Travis mutters a series or repeating words. Declaration of his own release. His vision went dark momentarily, a firework of ecstasy shooting out of him and into her. He gave a final series of thrusts, each deeper than the last. His final groans clearing his chest of air.
Just then the spasming took over him, the final words parting from him. “I’m – I’m coming.”
All she needed was that one warning to jump back and away from him, leaving him to spend himself into the air. He pulled tightly against the frame of the cot, dick twitching and releasing in the direction it was not pointing at – himself.
Hot streams of ejaculate land at his chest, long exposed since Laura’s demand that he unbutton himself. It had been so long since he last pleasured himself that his load was at max capacity, balls streaming flair after flair of his seed.
The sounds escaping him match the intensity of each release, one so overwhelming that he felt his release graze his chin in an impressive display of distance.
It takes moments for him to collect himself, still lethargic from their coupling. Travis’ eyes flutter open to see Laura’s disapproving frown stilling from over him. He should have felt embarrassed – but was too spent to care.
That was, until He saw the icy dagger come from her exposed eye.
The discontent growl emitting from her throat struck his ego deeper than he expected. He was used to disappointing women in his life, just not like this.
“Figures you’d misfire so soon. You’re a pathetic man that can’t even hold himself back for two minutes.”
He continued panting when his head leaned back onto the mattress of the cot, he felt the force of his chest move Laura in a rising and deflating motion.
He knew that he was a complete and unprofessional mess. His hair gel must have flaked off from the constant pulling, possibly sticking out in ridiculous positions. sweat pools soaking his back, following down his spine and centered in circles in his underarms. His shirt and pants completely undone, chest and abdomen completely clammy, and dick out – all covered in spurts of his own semen.
The air settles around him, sapping the heat from his fluids and leaving a cold. He feels completely gross. Every fiber of his body telling him to clean up and straighten out.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know what else I was expecting.” Her scowl grazes over his body, a small tick of a smile flashing from the corner of her lips before turning back down, like a facial twitch.
It’s not until she leans down over him that the nervous, sick knot in his stomach resurfaces for an encore of anxiety.
Laura’s fingertips dip into the pool of come that had accumulated just above and inside his navel, smearing his bodily juices and tangling it into what little body hair he has. An instant repulsion registers in Travis and he tries to wriggle away from her touch.
“Stop that!”
The expression she gives him is one of skepticism, as if she really didn’t believe he has the ability to make demands of her.
Except she was right.
“Let me make this clear.” Her gelatinous covered hand met with his chin, gripping his face, and smearing it into his stubble. Travis could smell the ammonia-like scent of his own juices wafting about an inch away from his nostril.
“You. Are. Nothing.” Her words are cold, her thumb gliding over his bottom lip with the assistance of his viscous excretion.
Her mouth parts, her nose turning up at him. Her digit presses into the flesh of his lip, pinching his skin between her finger and the jaw of his bottom teeth. “Now, be a good boy and suck.”
His stomach clenched and twisted in his belly.
A twitching quiver was unable to form where Laura held, so instead the corners of his mouth began to shake, his insides churning. Laura had unwittingly used that nickname again, compelling a desire to please her.
Tentatively, Travis slacks his jaw, his incisors grazing the pad of her thumb. Taking advantage of his compliance and shoving her opposable finger under his tongue and clamping him in an uncomfortable position from both inside and outside of his head.
The taste of himself made him gag – The bitter salty slime of his ejaculate clinging to nearly every crevice of the inside of his mouth.
Laura pulled at his head, forcing it to move left and right like a hooked fish.
Travis deserved this, even worse. He found some morbid, twisted part of him enjoying this. As if her humiliation of him earlier were not enough. He wished he could will another erection so that he could continue pleasing her.
A wet slap stings his face and startles him, splashes of their coupling hit the cement in drops. His eyes remain glued to the wet circles while the gooey texture clings to his face.
He resists the compulsion to turn towards Laura as she redresses several feet away. Fabric rustles loudly in comparison to the background of silence as she redresses herself. Travis hates to admit it to himself but already he misses her proximity.
“I hope you have a plan for someone to come get you.”
Travis couldn’t make eye contact with her; a glob sperm tickled his cheek as it ran down his face. There was no way she cared. Not after what she did.
“Yeah.”
She wanders to the cell door, locking him again in his prison. This time a pit of concern extends in Travis’ belly, the way she seems pleased with herself.
“Good, I want them to see you for the disgusting mess you are.”