Page 10 of Kings Fear No One
We’re too damn beat down to disagree. Too broken and isolated.
I turn away from the cabin door and peer around the tight space. The only other person up is an older man by the name of Hershel. He’s quiet and keeps to himself and wakes early most mornings. He likes having time to pray.
Talk to his god before he’s sent to hell for the day.
He’s been here almost as long as I have, and he’s still foolish enough to think it makes a difference.
I shake my head and drag my gaze from where he’s kneeling to the bunk below his. My newest wife has spent the last couple days ignoring my existence. She’s just about ignored everybody except when forced otherwise.
During mealtimes and chores. When the guards make her.
Luckily, she hasn’t been here long enough to be called upon again.
I already know I am before it happens. It’s Wednesday morning, which only means one thing. Xavier shows up with his rifle, exhibiting his usual bully tactics. He yells at Hershel and another cabinmate named Isadora. Both Hershel and Isadora scramble to obey his order; they’ll be working in the corn fields today.
Xavier pinches her ass on the way out.
I’m collected and sent up to the house.
“Mandy wants to see you. Then you’ll be put on laundry.”
I comply without giving any reaction. My legs move and I walk up toward the main house escorted by another guard, but I’m not present in the moment. I’m existing in my head only. Compartmentalization I learned even as a kid.
I got better at once it I came to Camp Hell. Once I was ‘saved’ by the Saints. Now I can check out of anything.
Mandy blows smoke in my face, her lips stretching into a big smile that shows off her chipped front tooth. “There’s my boy. Get to it.”
She drops backward into her favorite armchair and kicks her legs up onto the armrests. Her robe falls open as her thighs do and her bare pussy glistens up at me. I haven’t fully kneeled before she’s digging thick fingers into my hair and shoving my face in between.
She groans and rocks against me as I’m buried in her pussy. I’m doing what she’s requested—a tongue to work her inside and lick up juices.
I’m thinking about anything else.
I’m wondering about the storm that’s migrating in and if the sky will be clouded over by afternoon. I’m imagining the cold drops of rain splattering onto my face as I stand outside the cabins.
Not the drops of cum on my tongue as Mandy cries out her release.
“The bed,” she puffs. “C’mon, stallion.”
The room fills with more of her bleats. She’s shaking on her hands and knees as I give her what she’s asked for. I grip her rolls of freckled skin and fuck her from behind. My dick’s learned to dissociate too… for the most part.
When fulfilling a role for high-ranking women in the Chosen Saints, like Mandy, there’s no other way. If you can’t get hard, you’re of no use. You don’t last long once you’ve got no use.
“Yes, stallion!” she bleats, her pussy squelching from all the juices. “Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me good! OHHH!”
The whole house has to hear.
Mandy loves when they do. For everybody in the Chosen Saints to know I’m her favorite.
Her stallion.
I’m dripping sweat by the end. She rolls over lazily, smiling up at me, then pulls me down for a kiss. Her breath reeks of cigarettes, and she lets her nails drag appreciatively over my skin.
“You never let me down,” she hums. “Now, on about your way.”
I get up off the bed and walk toward the chair where my tattered clothes lay.
It’s the first time I’m aware we’re not alone—the Leader stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his arms folded.
