The Tribulation of John Michael Steele
Chapter 4

Copyright© 2018 by Matt Moreau

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 4 - He'd do anything for her, and he proved it!

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Blackmail   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Cuckold   Amputee  

1992

“So how did your visit John Michael go?” said Nathan.

“Good, I guess,” she said. “That was number four. I feel so bad for him. I know there is nothing we can do to get him out of there, but...”

“Honey, I tried. Short of actually bribing somebody, which would be a crime in itself, there is no way. He killed a cop. There were half a dozen cops in attendance at that special hearing of the parole board. I was able to get that much, the hearing held, but even with Jennifer running point, there was just no way this soon. But, I will have her keep trying. Who knows, maybe down the line,” said Nathan. The woman nodded.


Six more years, she thought; six more fucking years suffering—for me—and I’m stabbing him in the back! She began to sob.

Her man in prison would be out then, maybe, and it was only a maybe. He’d likely be able to get out, Jennifer had said. She was pretty sure she could see to it he only served the minimum; there were no absolute guarantees; there never were, but Jennifer was the best and she’d said it was likely.

Victoria Grimes, she thought of herself that way now, was a rotten double-crossing woman who deserved whatever came her way in the future. She for sure deserved neither her John Michael nor her Nathan; that was the reality.

Victoria Grimes ... no, she was still Victoria Steele, legally; but for all practical intents and purposes she was a Grimes and so was Selena. And that was going to be a huge problem. The now five-year-old girl had no memory of her dad, John Michael Steele, Nathan was her de facto daddy if not her legal one. But that too would change at some point. That point being when she married the man, also likely six years down the road. And all of it, all of the complications, that would be coming her way were of her making; there was no denying the truth of that.


“You look ill, honey. You want me to call the doctor?” said Nathan.

“No, no, I’ll be all right. Just something I ate,” she said. He nodded but looked dubious.

It couldn’t be, she thought. No way. They’d been screwing almost nonstop, or so it seemed since they had gotten together almost five years gone, and nothing had happened. He was too old for something like ... wasn’t he? Nathan Grimes was forty-four.

She pulled her panties down and inserted the stick. She’d likely know shortly. She waited the allotted time. She checked it. Her face paled. Oh my God! She pulled her panties back up and went to the phone that hung on the wall in the kitchen. She made it, the call.

“Yes,” said Victoria Steele-Grimes. The conversation with the person making appointments for Doctor Milton Boze was short. She’d have her confirmation one way or the other in twenty-four hours, well, hopefully.


Dinner had been quiet. She’d been stirring her wine with her finger for a full minute.

“And you’re doing that why?” he said.

“Huh? Oh, just thinking,” she said.

“Thinking?” he said.

“Yes, thinking about how I’m going to tell you something,” she said.

“And that would be about what?” he said.

“Well, mainly that I’m pregnant,” she said. The man was stopped cold in his thought processes.

“Huh?” he said.

“You’re going to be a daddy, well again, I guess,” she said. He was already a daddy to her daughter and she adored him for it. But this would be his actual blood.

“Oh my God!” he exclaimed.


The shower was cold. But it was only twice a week. I scrubbed myself as clean as I possibly could. The others under the line of shower heads with me began toweling off and leaving. Some of them seemed to be in kind of a hurry. Well, the water was cold. Then it was just me and Blue Top. Suddenly I realized what was happening, what was about to happen.

“Don’t be in a hurry, little man. I want to honor you today. I know you’re Mantea’s bitch, but today, I’m going to borrow you, know what I mean,” said Marcus Milford, aka Blue Top. It was a stupid name for a stupid pig, but the stupid pig was 6’6 and like two-sixty at least. I had no chance. I could fight him and ruin his hopes, but I would for damn sure be in the infirmary for a fucking month, and that only if he didn’t actually kill me.

I didn’t say anything. I just looked down.

“Good thinking,” he said. “Do as I say and you’ll be able to walk out of here under your own power.” I swallowed and waited for him to tell me what I had to do.

“Bring that towel over here. You can kneel on that,” he said. I did what he said, reluctantly. We were both naked. I was just hoping that he’d be quick. I didn’t cotton to a prolonged sex-fest. I’d let him do me, and then I’d be the hell outta there. I wondered where the fucking guards were. They were supposed to tour the place after time was up. Time was up, but no guards. Good ‘ole Blue Top must have had some influence.

I was on my knees and he was waving his dick in my face. I took hold of it and began licking and sucking it.

“Go slow, I want to enjoy it, little man. I’ll tell you when to stop. I won’t be cumming in your mouth. I’m saving my load for your woman hole,” he said and laughed. Mantea had done me a few times, I’d had no choice then either, but it had been a while.

I sucked him for what had to be a good five minutes before he stopped me. He had a bar of soap. I wondered where he’d gotten that. Nobody had any of that in our block. He motioned me to assume the position I got down on all fours and spread wide for him. He’d lathered himself up good, but he still had some difficulty sliding his dick into me. I grimaced, but I did my best to not give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out in pain.

He fucked me for a good while. I felt him stiffen. His cum actually felt hot inside of me; I could feel it. I hated the man for doing this to me. The time would come when he would pay. I didn’t know how he would pay, but he would. There had to be a way. And, no I wouldn’t be complaining to the guards, talk about useless; hell, they’d probably come at me and do me same as he did. I’d been in for five years. I knew the score.


 
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