Page 37 of Inmate 0976371

“FUUUCCKKKKKK DADDDYYY!” I cream as he rocks into me while I try to think, but his dick is too good… it’s way too good. When his lips glide over my shoulder, gentle ripples I’ve never felt before consume me.

“Think, Birdie… what the fuck you gon’ stamp on me?” he growls, and I shiver.

“M… my name!”

“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about! You said that shit is going to be small? The fuck?!” He yanks my hair and I about die from the pleasure.

“So… sorry Daddy, I was wrong!” I scream. “Please punish me! Punish this dirty pussy pleaseeeee!” I cry and he takes my nipple in his mouth, biting it, making me hyperventilate.

“Fuck Birdie… you’re such a nasty fucking slut for Daddy.”

“Yes! Yes!” I whither in his arms, wanting more, but he stops.

“Now…” he growls “Get to work.”

“Wh-wha?—”

“Rule number two.”

“Obedience without question,” I answer immediately.

“That Daddy’s good little cum slut. Depending on how good of a job you do, I’ll dump a fat load in your ass and eat it out…” I tremble with anticipation at his words.

“I’ll do extra good!”

“Prove it. Show me what Daddy’s little cock sleeve can do.”

God pleaseeee pleassseeee never let this euphoria end!

Chapter 11

Protect and Serve

DETECTIVE WOODS

Itype in the last sentence on my report and sit back, running my hands through my hair, tired. I just want to go home, but there’s been a buzz going around the department lately. Usually, I’m the type to get involved immediately, but lately I feel a restlessness that even sleep won’t cure.

I lean back in my seat, staring up at the ceiling, watching the whirring fan. My heart is calm as can be as a knock comes at my door. I don’t stop what I’m doing… I don’t need to because whoever it is comes in anyway without my permission, and I know there are only a few people who would dare. It’s most likely the chief. I hear the familiar sound of a case file slapping my desk, which finally has me sitting up.

“What’s this?” I question.

“Missing woman,” he answers, and I raise a brow, not bothering to pick up the thin manilla folder that seems to offer little information.

“And?”

“And we need your help finding her?”

“Why?” I tilt my head. “If it’s a simple missing person, the locals would be better suited to handle the case,” I huff, bored, going to pick up my coffee but he slaps another case file down before me. This one has me pausing to the point my coffee sloshes over in my mug.

The file is as thick as a thesaurus with hundreds of sheets full of nothing but information, unlike the other, much slimmer file.

“This is why…” I scoop the file up and hoist it in my lap. I see a rather gruff but well-groomed and attractive man in the photo posing with a mocking smile in a mugshot. Inmate 0976371 Shaw Igen is written on the board along with the prison he’s in. “An inmate escaped and was said to have possibly hidden in the trunk of the missing woman’s car. We have the guard who may have aided in the escape, but he’s not talking. However, we are all but sure he helped based on the footage,” Chief Davis reveals.

“Hmm…”

“This wouldn’t have been a problem but?—”

“I see he escaped during the hurricane, wiping all traces. Worse than that, the hurricane was so bad it left more than half the county without resources. On top of that, the flooding is still yet to recede…”

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