The Death Lords, Volumes 1-3: His Wild Desire, Her Secret Pleasure, Their Private Need (15 page)

Judge

I swallow her gasp with my own mouth and rub my hard cock between her legs. Her eyes flutter shut and she leans into me. We lap at each other, licking the interior recesses and moaning our unspoken desires. I can’t get enough of her. I watched her at first for her father’s sake but after only the first day I knew I’d have her in my bed. Now I can’t imagine fucking another woman. I’m addicted to her flavor, her body and her intense sensual taste. When I break the contact, she sways—dazed from passion. Her lips are erotically swollen and red.

I unbutton her blouse and remove her bra, admiring the bounce of her tits as they escape their confines. Love that. I can see binding and releasing her repeatedly in the future. There are so many games we can play together.

Cupping her breasts, I give them a good massage. Her head falls back in pure pleasure. “That feels wonderful.”

Her nipples tighten into hard points and I flick one puckered tip with my thumb. She shivers in response and her knees give out. Lowering her to the bed, I cover one tit with my mouth, suckling hard until she is arching against me. I trail my hand down her front and am stymied by the long tube of her skirt. It prevented me from access earlier today and it’s denying me now. Her skirt is the enemy.

Rising from the bed, I flip her over and sweep her hair to the side. The fabric stretches across her ass, making it look juicy and round. Maybe the skirt isn’t so bad. “This skirt expensive?”

“No,” she admits. “It’s a Walmart purchase.”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” I promise. I push the tight material up to her waist and pull down the black lace panties. They are pretty but I want to see her hot ass and sweet cunt naked and bared for my enjoyment. Between her legs, I test her readiness. She’s soaked. I bring my hand to my mouth and suck off her juice. Yep, completely and totally addicted. I rub the head of my cock against her lips for a few strokes and then drop to my knees.

“I want you to describe how you’re feeling. You’re a reader. Use some good words,” I instruct, laying my tongue along her wet cunt. She’s silent too long so I smack her ass firmly. She shakes and then starts talking.

“Um, I, ah, my feet feel hot, like it’s hard to stand on them. There’s an ache that I try to relieve by arching my soles.” She pants, puffs of air coming out between the words. Her monologue doesn’t sound dirty but it is. It so is. It’s turning me on like crazy. Her feet are flexing just like she describes, pushing her ass up and down on my tongue.

“Keep going,” I order. As I lap at her juices, I reach into my pants and pull my dick out.

“My ankles tingle and my calves feel tight.”

I place my hands on her calves and give them a light squeeze. “What else?”

She moans. “I need you, Judge.”

“Where, baby?”

“I need you inside me.” She shifts on the balls of her feet and above me I can see a bead of lubrication pearling on the edge of her cunt lips. I rise and lick it, softly teasing her with my tongue. She grinds down but the ache inside her isn’t appeased by teasing kisses from my mouth.

“I need you to tell me more about how you feel.” I rise and my cock slides between her thighs. This time, it’s my eyes that close at the friction and wetness that greets me. “What else?” I demand.

“My nerves are sensitive. I feel everything. Even the tiniest threads in the comforter are abrading my nipples, my thighs. My sex aches and throbs. I clench it but it’s empty so I keep contracting in hopes,” she pauses on a sob, “in hopes you’ll fill me up.”

“You ready for me?” I know she is. I just enjoy hearing her beg a bit.

“Just fuck me, already,” she cries out.

I don’t need to be told twice. I plunge into her and we both moan our satisfaction, the sounds filling the quiet room.

I arrow in that tight space between her full thighs, enjoying the sight of my cock shuttling in and out of her cunt. I slap her ass a couple of times and she pushes back against my hand, nearly quivering in her excitement.

“Like that, do you,” I grunt in satisfaction. I’m going to enjoy seeing her ass red with my marks but that’s for another day. My balls are tightening and I’m getting ready to blow, but I don’t sense she’s there yet. She holds a little of herself back, not fully surrendering even though she wants to.

She says she trusts me but her words haven’t traveled all the way into her heart yet. I’m not worried, though, because we’ve got time. She’s already in mine. I don’t even mind acknowledging that she’s embedded herself into my heart. Ever since I laid eyes on her, she’s the only one I see when I close my eyes, when I take myself in hand and jerk off. And maybe she needs to hear that.

“When I first saw you drive into town, my dick got immediately hard. I went home and jerked off in the bathroom. I fantasized about decorating these juicy tits with my come.”

She whimpers, a nice hot sound. I tell her more.

“I’ve been fantasizing about you ever since then.” I caress the roundness of her ass and pump in long even strokes as I do. The walls of her sex hug me, as if reluctant to let me withdraw. As I pull out, I can see my cock glistening from her excitement. “You’re hotter than a porn star and more juicy than a ripe peach. I could eat you all night long.”

“Judge,” she breathes.

“What is it, baby?”

“I want to kiss you. Can I?” Her diffidence only cranks my chain tighter.

“Course. Anything you want.” I pull out and sit down on the edge of the bed. In a swift motion, I set her on my cock. With her plump ass cheeks in my hands, I lift her up and down the column of my hard dick. Her tits brush my chest with every movement. “Kiss me while you fuck me,” I order.

She does. Her mouth trembles under mine and I hold her tight while she rides me. As her light fingers tangle in my hair, my need for her threatens to break my rigid control. Reaching up, I grab her wrists and shackle them at the base of her spine with one hand. I tug her hair and expose the long column of her neck. Another tug and her tits thrust out. The tightly beaded nipples beg for my mouth.

“Ahh, yes,” she cries when I suck on one hard bud. I move between one peak and then the other as she bounces on my cock.

“Rub that clit against me until you come,” I order roughly and run my hands up and down her arms across her back and return to cup her heavy tits.

“Let me touch you,” she moans. It’s hard enough to stave off my orgasm when she’s swiveling and grinding against me.

“Let me take care of you first.” I latch a hand around her neck, cupping her head while I take her mouth with mine. She spasms around me at this rough caress. I hold her tight while the tremors overtake her and she throws her head back and screams out her release.

When I feel her juice coat me and her cunt muscles squeeze double time, I jack into her. Placing both hands on either side of her hip, I jerk her rapidly up and down my cock until I go right over that edge with her.

Spent, I tumble back onto the bed taking her with me. She curls up on my chest like a little satiated kitten.

We lazily stroke each other while I’m still semi hard inside her.

“You going to allow me to take care of you?” I ask.

She stills and tips her head up. “What does that all entail?”

“It means if you’ve got problems, they’re my problems. If you’re happy, I’m happy. It means you don’t walk alone anywhere because I’ve always got your back.”

Several transparent thoughts march across her face but I don’t worry about any of them. She’s working it out. “If I have an argument with the cashier at the gas station, will you beat them up?”

“First, you aren’t going to be at any gas station because I’ll make sure your tank is always full. No one lets their old lady run around without a full tank of gas. That’s just asking for trouble. Second, depends on what the argument’s about. If he’s mouthing off and insulting you he gets a visit from me. If he’s having a bad day, I’m sure you can cut him down to size.”

She thinks some more. “I’ve never had that.”

The wistful longing makes me want to fuck her again and punch her dad’s lights out. Everyone deserves to know that they aren’t alone. I know when I go out the force of the club stands behind me. I squeeze her tight and roll over, pressing her into the bed with the heavy weight of my body. My dick is hardening and I start pumping shallowly. “You do now, baby girl. You do now.”

With shining eyes, she holds on to me and we rock together until we both come again in a quiet storm.

Afterwards, I exit the bathroom with a washcloth and two other things

“What is that?” She picks up the small purple finger shaped rubber plug I picked from the club toy chest.

“It’s a plug. You’re going to wear this and then tonight, after I’m done taking care of business, I’m going to fuck this ass.”

“Is that used?” She wrinkles her nose in disgust.

I burst out laughing. “Fuck no, baby. Fresh out of the package from the toy chest. This is just for you.”

“Of course you have a toy chest.” She slaps me on the shoulder.

“You’re going to appreciate it later. Roll and over and present your ass.”

With a wary glance she rolls over. I wipe her with the warm cloth and lean down to lick her swollen pussy. “Mmm, you are tasty,” I say. Applying a generous amount of lube to her ass and the plug, I work the tip in. “It’s going to burn a little. Press back.”

“I don’t know Judge,” she begins but presses back anyway and I slide the plug in all the way to the base.

“I do.” I slide a finger in her cunt and feel the ribbed edges of the plug against my finger. A gasp escapes her. “Yeah, baby girl, that feels good doesn’t it. It feels real good.” Thrusting lightly, I whisper. “You’re going to be so full tonight. Shit. You are so fucking tight. I can’t wait. I can’t fucking wait.”

I keep thrusting, keeping the base of my palm against the plug.

“Please, please,” she begs.

Flipping her over, I add my mouth to my fingers and she comes, squirting onto my hand. With a sigh, she collapses. I’ve worn her out. Swiftly I wipe my hands on the washcloth and then pick her limp body up.

“No more,” she moans.

“Shh baby girl. I’ve got you.” I strip the covers back, lay her down and climb in beside her. She immediately curls into me, entangling her limbs with mine and is out like a light before I can get the covers up around her shoulder. “I’ve got you,” I vow again.
I’ve got you and I’m not letting go.

Judge

A soft knock at the door rouses me and I slip out from under Pippa’s soft body. I’ve worn her out or maybe it’s worry and sex making her drowsy. Either way, she can sleep safe until her body tells her it’s hungry. I pull down the sheet to drink in a long look of her ass filled with the plug that I inserted after I’d fucked her that last time.

Gathering up my clothes, I make sure the metal end of the belt is muffled and creep out bare-ass naked into the hallway. Shutting the door quietly, I gesture for Easy to move down the hall and give me space. He grins. “Good thing we put in soundproofing.”

I grunt and start dressing.

“Maybe we oughta have dressing rooms too so you can put on your clothes without disturbing the little missus.”

“Maybe we should take a trip to the basement so I can punch you in the mouth.”

Easy leans against the wall and laughs. “Oh ho, so it's like that.”

Zipping, tucking and buckling, I straighten, shrug on my cut and give him a short, serious nod. “It's like that.”

He releases a long, low whistle. “I have so many librarian fantasies.”

“For your sake they better star the tall thin brunette.”

“The only thing better than having a librarian is having a librarian who is also a preacher's daughter.” Easy grins.

“Hope that works out for you and Michigan then.” I clap him on the shoulder and move toward the stairs with my boots in my hand.

His ready smile dies away. “It's why they're called fantasies, Pres.”

“Give the girl credit. You don't know what she's into until you ask. Never thought the two of you would be too afraid to go after what you wanted.”

I stop into one of the party rooms on the second floor to pull my boots on. Downstairs, our two prospects are sitting at the bar. Only one of them is worth a shit. Handfield, the younger one, is too hot headed for my taste but before I cut him loose, I'll talk to Wrecker about him. Maybe someone his age can knock some sense into him.

At the rear of the granary is a narrow room with a long table and uncomfortable wooden chairs. The walls are concrete and there is a hollow steel exterior door that can stop bullets from an assault rifle. The Death Lords have held church in this room since the days when my granddad was president. We've made changes like adding the bulletproof door and reinforcing the concrete walls. There's a trapdoor under the table that leads into a cellar. From there a tunnel connects the basement of the granary to the silo where Bang Bang, who has doomsday prepper issues, is planning for a time of anarchy. If something bad should happen to the outside world, we can bring our families here and protect them.

When you become a Death Lord, a man is given a bike, a room, some cash and access to a few secrets like this.

It's not much but for a lot of men, knowing that they aren't the only ones watching their backs and their families makes it easier to sleep at night.

The fourteen men that form our club are all here, including Wrecker who will leave immediately after to take Chelsea to Minneapolis and out of range of Schmidthead's reach. We don't all live in Fortune. Diesel, the patch sitting next to Bear, lives in a town about thirty minutes away but you don't miss church unless you're dead.

I take my seat and get the meeting started. “Thanks for coming. It won't surprise you that we have an incident prompted by our favorite law enforcement officer, one Eric Schmidt.”

The rumbles start immediately around the room. Schmidt has been a thorn in our side for a long time but because of his position, untouchable. Fuck with a cop and law enforcement is up in every aspect of our business. Nobody, even clean citizens, wants that kind of harassment.

“He sent a couple of punks from up north after Chuck Lang's daughter because she didn't want to sleep with him. I'm taking it a little personally seeing how his daughter is currently warming my bed and will be for a long time. Schmidt took the two boys to the Manheim farm. Easy and Michigan retrieved them and they're sitting in the basement. We'll deal with them later. What you're here for is a vote about Schmidt. In an hour or so, Schmidt's going to come out to the Manheim farm to check on his guests. We can be there and give Schmidt a Death Lords visit. If we do this, he'll know we are watching him very closely and it might make him draw back from his activities, making it harder for us to nail him on something bigger. It's a call we make together.”

“I'm for beating him bloody.” Easy leans back in his chair. Michigan, our enforcer, nods.

“Flint?” I turn to my vice president.

He rubs his jaw. “My first inclination is to beat him but I think you're right. If we reveal that we know about the Manheim farm then he's going to be more cautious.”

“Or more reckless,” Bang Bang inserts.

“The goal is to get Schmidt out of our hair for good,” I repeat. “Beating him is a one-time pleasure.”

“But how good it would feel.” Wrecker smiles evilly. Out of all of us, he probably has the most cause to give Schmidt a beat-down. I'm sorry he won't be able to wield the tire iron. Another time.

Grouch, the treasurer, slaps his hand on the table. “Let's vote. Who's against the beating?”

The occupants at the table look around and then we all break out laughing. Everyone's in.

“Wrecker, I'm sorry you can't be there.” A muscle works in his jaw and it's a sign of his maturity that he doesn't argue but none of us want to see him go back to prison. “Michigan, Easy and I will take care of it. Church is dismissed. Have some beer. There'll be entertainment later.”

To Michigan and Easy, I jerk my head and we roll out.

•••

The Manheim farm is an abandoned property about three miles from the granary. We take a black rat truck, a vehicle we put together out of scrap parts. It’s matte black and on the dark country roads, it’s virtually invisible.

Michigan drives and we park about a half mile from the farm, pulling off into a copse of trees and then walk the rest of the way. Michigan has us wear police issue shoes, all the same size, along with Fortune Police uniforms. We raid the station every so often for the sole purpose of gathering up supplies for jobs like this.

The moon’s only a partial sliver in the sky providing us with good cover.

Inside the Manheim barn, we take up our places. Easy covers the rear, Michigan at the front. I sit on the rotted hay bale in the stall where the two skinheads are supposed to be.

It’s not long before the sound of Schmidthead’s SUV comes barreling up the road. The headlights momentarily illuminate the dark interior. He makes no effort to hide his activities, preferring to lean on his cover of being a good protector of the citizens of Fortune. Should anyone ask, I suppose he’d tell them he saw a disturbance on an unofficial patrol and stopped to check it out.

The barn door opens and Schmidt walks in with a mag flashlight and a gun.

“You two stupid assholes ready to go?” he barks.

I rise. “There’re three of us assholes but you’re the only stupid dick in the place.”

Schmidthead jerks his flashlight into my eyes, blinding me until Michigan reaches out and flicks it off.

We’re in the dark now, with only the headlights of his SUV providing partial light.

“What the hell are you doing wearing Fortune Police uniforms?”

It’s unsurprising that this little detail seems to outrage him more than the fact that he’s alone with three Death Lords. It’s a sign of his lack of connection to the real world.

Ignoring his question, I ask, “Do you think it’s harder to function with a maimed arm or leg?”

“Wh-what?” He backs up and hits Michigan’s solid frame. He turns and tries to duck around Michigan who arm-bars Schmidthead backwards. Schmidt stumbles and tries to right himself by throwing out his arm but finds only air. He lands hard on his ass causing Easy to burst out laughing.

“Sorry,” he calls from behind us. “Can’t help it.”

Michigan throws me Schmidt’s mag light. It’s got a nice heft to it. I hand the tire iron off to Michigan and lean down next to Schmidt. “I’m a nice guy so I’ll repeat your choice. Arm or leg?”

“You hurt me and everything you care about will be destroyed. Your son will be caught violating his parole and he’ll serve his ten years. Your little club will find itself involved in a big ugly drug bust. Meth is a big problem in this community and no one is going to look kindly on your club and businesses serving as a drug front dragging our kids down.”

“I kind of feel like that’s
my
speech,” I joke. Inside, I’m seething that he’s brought up Wrecker. I gotta shove that down or I might forget I’m just here to deliver a warning. Suddenly I feel weary. I want to be back at the club with my girl, spreading her legs and sliding my dick into the tight channel of her ass. “Gag,” I order sharply.

Schmidt tries to scramble backwards, but I place my knee into his chest and let all my weight drop onto him. He gasps for breath.

Michigan pulls the club from Schmidt’s utility belt and Easy grabs the other end. Together they open his mouth and shove the club between his teeth. He jerks his head which causes the club to sink farther into his mouth.

“Careful,” I caution. “Don’t want you to choke yourself to death. Good news is we’re not going to kill you. Bad news is you’re going to have to learn to jerk off with your left hand.”

I straighten his right arm and then twist so the elbow bone is facing the ceiling. He fights, but on his back with a club between his teeth, he’s got no leverage. I press my boot heel against his fingers and bring the mag light down on his elbow. His muffled scream generates a smile from the dour Michigan.

“You know the bones in the elbow, fucker?” Easy asks Schmidt as I bring down the heavy handle of the flashlight again. “Michigan does. He was a medic. He can name them for you.”

“True story,” Michigan replies. “Looks like you’ve got a crushed epicondyle, ulna and radius.” He winces at the next crack. “Also appears the humerus might be endangered. Probably your nerves are going to have some damage too.”

I bring the light down two more times until the arm is flopping like a limp noodle. With a nod, both Michigan and Easy stand. I flick the light on and shine it into Schmidt’s eyes. He’s whimpering, drool and blood sliding down the side of his face but he’s lucid enough for my warning.

Michigan slips the club back into Schmidt’s belt and then hauls off and kicks Schmidt in the side. Easy punches him in the face. He cries, broken, pained sounds that I’m recording for Wrecker to hear later. We’ll burn the small tape but I wanted to give Wrecker something since he couldn’t be here.

“We’re doing you a favor,” I explain.”You can tell everyone that you were responding to a distress call. You came upon the vandals here at the farm and they beat you and escaped. Otherwise, people are going to wonder why you put them here in the first place. We’ve got some nice pictures of you bringing them here. You can either try to pin this beating on us or you’ll make up a lie to cover your ass. We’re pretty sure you are going to cover your ass. We know you’re up to your eyeballs in the trade. We’ll catch you but in the meantime, know this. You touch one of the Death Lords again and next time you won’t be walking out of here.” I throw the flashlight on his chest. He moans when it strikes him. “And Pippa Lang is Death Lords’ property—mine specifically. Remember that if you plan to fuck around with her employment contract.”