Chapter 12: Bound by Betrayal

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, Señora Jordan?” Torres sneered as he led her from his office, hands bound. Defeat crushed her—she’d signed a false confession, unaware it was futile. “Where are you taking me? This isn’t the way to Steve’s cell,” she rasped.

“No, it is not,” he replied, steering her back to Reggie. “No, p-please! I can’t!” she wailed, but he was unmoved. With each step, her heart sank deeper, Reggie’s leering eyes and touch a sick flood in her mind, dread pooling like tar.

“I’ve seen how he reacts to you—how your body responds. You’re growing closer, despite your fight. I won’t disrupt the romance blooming from your physical bond. Though devout, you crave his dominance,” Torres taunted, Jaime blind to the substance in her food spiking her libido, her sensitivity a cruel betrayal.

“It’s not true—I hate it, but my body won’t stop,” she whimpered, shame pooling. “I haven’t had birth control,” she confessed, dread lacing her voice—unprotected, Reggie’s seed a shameful specter.

“Three weeks off, hmm? Afraid of a child with Reggie? Imagine the explanations,” he mocked, eyes gleaming. “He forces me—if I resist, he punishes. You threaten compliance—please,” she whispered.

“What about condoms?” she forced out, desperate. “None here—not like your soft country,” he sneered, eyeing her crucifix—a relic of her lost virtue now pleading for protection with another man. “Have him pull out—I won’t dull your intimacy.”

Her body, molded to Reggie’s size, took him with shameful ease—no barrier to blunt the raw invasion she loathed yet craved, each thrust a humiliating echo. “Look who’s back—says she misses your big Black dick,” Torres taunted. “Growing on her.”

Torres unlocked the cell, shoving her in, and there stood Reggie—his erection a monstrous bulge straining his orange pants, thick and rigid with a hunger that pulsed for her alone, a testament to the drugs twisting them into each other’s orbit.

Cold bars pressed her back as Reggie loomed, his cock a steel rod aching for her, crucifix glinting—a mockery of her broken vows. “That be true, baby? Longin’ for me?” he growled, voice thick with lust.

“Uh-y-yes,” she stammered, trembling. “You fuck him?” “N-no—just minutes with him...” A slap seared her cheek, vision blurring. “Ow, oh God!” she cried, shielding herself.

“Two hours—you think I’m stupid?” he roared. “I didn’t—the Captain made me confess,” she sobbed. “Your husband? I’m your husband now!” he snarled, shoving her to the bed, yanking her pants, thong aside, fingers probing her cum-slick depths.

“It’s yours—from earlier,” she wept. “Sure?” “Yes—only you,” she pleaded. “Hosed you good this mornin’,” he smirked, his cock surging harder, a granite pillar throbbing with need as her scent hit him, veins bulging with primal want. “Gonna relieve this now—get you ready.”

His fingers toyed her clit, thrusting inside, and her body—damnably—gushed, a hot, slick flood she couldn’t stop, the drug wrenching her open for him, her wetness a torrent soaking his hand. “This white pussy’s mine—better not catch you with another,” he growled. “Okay ... ah ... yes ... my clit ... don’t...” she moaned, pushing futilely, Steve’s memory a dagger.

“Your clit loves it—look how wet,” he sneered, breath hot, her juices a shameful deluge betraying her disgust. “Told him ‘bout me?” “No...” “Good girl—best he don’t know,” he chuckled darkly, stripping, his cock massive. “Miss me, baby?” he growled, pinning her, thrusting deep.

“Ah ... yes ... ooh ... all the way inside,” she gasped, limbs wrapping him in forced surrender, her wetness a humiliating cascade. “Pull out this time ... not on birth control...” she begged, ignored as he sneered, “Gonna feel every inch—stroke me, rub your clit, cum on you, then in your mouth.”

“Ah ... yes ... pull out now...” she forced, stroking him against her clit, his semen splashing her—a repulsive relief. From his office, Torres watched onscreen, savoring her degradation—her wedding band and engagement ring glinting on her finger as she pleasured Reggie, symbols of her vows to Steve now defiled as his seed painted her fair skin, then filled her mouth as he straddled her, commanding, “Open—hold my balls.”

“Ah ... nah ... disgusting...” she whimpered, yielding, swallowing his copious load—another betrayal etched in her moans, the rings a silent testament to her shattered fidelity.