Not Quite a White Knight Book 1 - Cover

Not Quite a White Knight Book 1

Copyright© 2018 by LolaPaul

Chapter 5: A Conversation

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5: A Conversation - Left alone for her 21st birthday, Gracie wanted something special sexually, something rougher than her usual mommy-approved boyfriends. But once she left the car things were not quite as advertised; she found herself on a path that took a sharp turn towards "Does Not End Well." Just in time she was rescued. But he was not a white knight so her life took another sharp turn.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   NonConsensual   Rape   Heterosexual   Fiction   Crime   Sharing   Incest   Father   Daughter   Aunt   BDSM   MaleDom   Light Bond   Rough   Anal Sex   Analingus   Sex Toys   Squirting   Violence  

When we both calmed down she said she had been in fear for her life since they pulled up at the abandoned area; that was when they bagged her. She was half expecting me to shoot her when I got off. Instead I released her. I said guns were too messy (they were) and she got on this crying-laughing jag. She spent about 15 minutes in my arms. I really did not know what to do, this type of emotion confuses me every time. I just held on in what I thought was a caring way. She calmed down eventually.

I did tell her that I was not done enjoying her body. But since sex was on hold for now, I freed her from the gloves and the other bondage gear (the good stuff takes time) then took her to a comfortable love seat where we could sit and talk while keeping contact, holding on. In her current mood she was not holding anything back when she answered my questions.

She had mentioned her mother and current step-father were on vacation for the next week. She had no job or school, and her best friends told her they would be unavailable for the next week, doing a wilderness trek. They were doing one that charged extra for the “unconnected “ experience.

“You were really operating without a safety net, weren’t you?”

“When you put it that way it really highlights my bad judgement. I had just turned 21, so I thought I could finally stand on my own. Those boys ... would they really have done bad things to me?”

“They did not bring dry ice to make ice cream, they planned things ... things that a human should not contemplate. They used bad drugs to reduce themselves to a sub-human mindset. But they won’t think that way any more. The oldest law of mankind, coming from the time when we first formed tribes, is that the tribes must not mix. I know that is not politically correct, but neither are street gangs on drugs. In this case I must say that your sense of freedom and your values put you in a bad position relative to their values. It is that simple.”

“What about your tribe and mine? Are they incompatible?”

“That issue is more complicated, there are limits to the specifics I can discuss. I have tortured and killed when there was cause, and I know a jury would not see the things I did as necessary. But I do not do such things simply because there is an opportunity; wet work is hard, messy work, so it is not recreation for me. As for values, I have come to believe that there is much we could learn from each other. For instance, you are very confident.”

“I hope so, it implies that you might allow me to live.”

“Or not. That is a subject where discussion will not serve us. I admit that my bringing you here was impulsive, not prudent, I hope it was the lesser of two evils. However I do not regret it ... your company is quite charming.”

“Did I hear you say you don’t regret it... ‘yet’?”

“You hear very well ... but if we are going to be unsociably blunt maybe a better phrasing is to say I am giving you a chance to show me I made the right choice ... and I will admit things look good so far.”

“I suppose that I should expect some extended time alone here while you do other things.”

“You are correct. I have books available as you saw, various types. There is food. We are very, very safe here. Now I would like to hear about your life.”

So she told me about her mother, father and various step-fathers. Like my Mother, her birth Father had gone to the mystery around her first birthday. I found that an interesting coincidence but did not speak of it.

As she went through the list of house guests and step-fathers since then there was one name that tripped a memory, a big one, although I kept my reaction hidden. Still, it was a very good thing I now knew this name was associated with her. As soon as she said it I realized that some years ago I had seen Gracie, her mother and that step-father at the courthouse, and later when a group of us went to dinner. If memory served, her face was even more attractive than her body suggested; my CCTV camera angles did not do her justice.

“Mark Barbicon was my fourth official step-father ... the only one I use that term for. He taught me how to drive a car ... but that was after the divorce.” The way she the word “taught,” with a hesitation, caught my notice.

I repeated that back aloud and tacked on a question. “Maybe that was not all he ‘taught’ you?”

She blushed brightly, so brightly it must have been intimate. “I suppose that was obvious. Okay, you have me, I was very bad with my ex-step-dad. But it was not incest! After the divorce we kept touch. I seduced him, I called it my insurance policy. He really didn’t want to, but I was determined to make sure he would teach me to drive. Of course, he would never be unfaithful to Maria...”

“Maria?”

“His current and forever wife. She is so sweet, about 28, from Brazil. Mark is much older, but that is true love. Anyway, so I ... I made him ... well, both of them really ... feel good. They taught me things ... I was ‘of age’ by then, and he did teach me to drive. Mumszy could not be bothered to teach me, and she forbade anybody else teach me to drive, even if I was 18! It was part of her control. But I made sure he ignored her wishes.”

I did not know Mark had remarried, he kept things under cover as a PI. Maybe this Maria was part of Mark’s leaving the FBI. I asked as if I didn’t know much about him. “Mark Barbicon? Wasn’t he in the FBI? Some sort of trouble?” It was two years ago, give or take, so shortly after Gracie learned to drive. Despite the press coverage he kept his wife completely out of it.

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