Read Online Maximum Guilt (Hidden Guilt Book 2) by Terry Keys - Free Book Online
Authors: Terry Keys
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turning her head so Jon couldn’t see the look of disgust on her face. You piece of shit , she thought. You’ve been caught three times, and only God knows how many more you’ve gotten away with . No more, though. No more.
“Already pouring us another drink?” John said as he wiped sweat from his face with the back of his hand.
“What, you some kinda girly man? Bottoms up, cowboy! You got a restroom somewhere so I could freshen up a little?”
Jon pointed Stacy in the right direction. She really just wanted a place to hang out so she didn’t have to look at him while the drugs took effect. It’d almost been ten minutes; she figured it wouldn’t take much longer.
“Hey, you okay in there?”
Jon’s speech was long, slow, and clearly slurred. Stacy heard a hint of impatience in his voice.
“I’m fine. Just wanna make sure I look my best for you, baby.”
Stacy finally came out of the restroom and tried to head for the kitchen but Jon cut her off.
“Hey, there,” he said. He stood directly in front of her, way too close for comfort. Stacy could tell he was begging for a kiss.
“One second. We’re almost there, big boy. We aren’t in a rush, are we? I got all night.”
She eased around Jon, headed for the kitchen, and poured and another glass for them both.
“You trying to get me drunk, woman?” Jon said with a smile, growing more and more confident and woozy with each passing second.
“No, baby, I just wanna make sure the edge is off so we can do everything your little heart desires.”
With that last bit of encouragement, it was bottoms up!
“Why don’t you come sit here beside me,” Stacy said. “You wouldn’t happen to have any handcuffs would you, Jon?”
“I don’t think so. You are a bad girl, aren’t you?”
“Let me look in my bag. I might have some. If I do, you wanna put ’em on for me?”
Stacy was trying her best to make sure Jon felt comfortable with the situation. She took out the cuffs, lifted her shirt, and placed the cuffs on her stomach as she lay back onto the couch. She gestured for Jon to come closer. She grabbed his head and forced his face onto her stomach. Jon nibbled. The more Stacy moaned, the harder Jon tried to please her.
“Stop, baby. Put these on for me.”
Jon did as he was told. He couldn’t seem to get his fingers to cooperate, so Stacy helped him lock the cuffs into place.
“Am I drunk?” Jon said, laughing.
“No, probably not. But you are drugged and a few minutes away from passing out. How’s that?”
“What?”
“Drugged, Jon; I drugged you.”
“Why in the hell would you do that?” He struggled to get the words out, fighting to keep his eyes open.
“Because, Jon, you are a bad boy—a real bad boy. Be honest with me here, Jon. Do you like girls?”
“What the fuck do you mean? Of course I like girls! I’m not some faggot.”
“No, no. Not women like myself. Girls. Ya know, under the age of, say, eighteen. Little fucking girls, Jon.”
“What’s it to you? You a cop or something? You don’t seem like no cop.”
Stacy’s laughter filled the room.
“A cop? No, I’m not a cop, Jon. Far from it. But I will be serving justice tonight.”
Stacy walked over to her bag and grabbed her snips and duct tape.
Jon’s eyes bulged as all color left his face. It almost appeared to Stacy that he’d turned into a little boy, in a way. No bravado, no yelling, no begging—just a shaking, frightened, cornered little boy awaiting his punishment.
“Jon, I don’t know what happened to you, but—and I mean this—I really do feel sorry for you. But I have a calling, a duty, and this must be done.”
Chapter 12
My head pounded, and I was sure my eyes were sunk deep into my head. De Luca, Lafitte, and I had stayed up all night scanning the net trying to get a bead on Stacy. We’d scoured every hookup site we could dig up. I even had Fingers working on some stuff back home. We’d managed to find
“Already pouring us another drink?” John said as he wiped sweat from his face with the back of his hand.
“What, you some kinda girly man? Bottoms up, cowboy! You got a restroom somewhere so I could freshen up a little?”
Jon pointed Stacy in the right direction. She really just wanted a place to hang out so she didn’t have to look at him while the drugs took effect. It’d almost been ten minutes; she figured it wouldn’t take much longer.
“Hey, you okay in there?”
Jon’s speech was long, slow, and clearly slurred. Stacy heard a hint of impatience in his voice.
“I’m fine. Just wanna make sure I look my best for you, baby.”
Stacy finally came out of the restroom and tried to head for the kitchen but Jon cut her off.
“Hey, there,” he said. He stood directly in front of her, way too close for comfort. Stacy could tell he was begging for a kiss.
“One second. We’re almost there, big boy. We aren’t in a rush, are we? I got all night.”
She eased around Jon, headed for the kitchen, and poured and another glass for them both.
“You trying to get me drunk, woman?” Jon said with a smile, growing more and more confident and woozy with each passing second.
“No, baby, I just wanna make sure the edge is off so we can do everything your little heart desires.”
With that last bit of encouragement, it was bottoms up!
“Why don’t you come sit here beside me,” Stacy said. “You wouldn’t happen to have any handcuffs would you, Jon?”
“I don’t think so. You are a bad girl, aren’t you?”
“Let me look in my bag. I might have some. If I do, you wanna put ’em on for me?”
Stacy was trying her best to make sure Jon felt comfortable with the situation. She took out the cuffs, lifted her shirt, and placed the cuffs on her stomach as she lay back onto the couch. She gestured for Jon to come closer. She grabbed his head and forced his face onto her stomach. Jon nibbled. The more Stacy moaned, the harder Jon tried to please her.
“Stop, baby. Put these on for me.”
Jon did as he was told. He couldn’t seem to get his fingers to cooperate, so Stacy helped him lock the cuffs into place.
“Am I drunk?” Jon said, laughing.
“No, probably not. But you are drugged and a few minutes away from passing out. How’s that?”
“What?”
“Drugged, Jon; I drugged you.”
“Why in the hell would you do that?” He struggled to get the words out, fighting to keep his eyes open.
“Because, Jon, you are a bad boy—a real bad boy. Be honest with me here, Jon. Do you like girls?”
“What the fuck do you mean? Of course I like girls! I’m not some faggot.”
“No, no. Not women like myself. Girls. Ya know, under the age of, say, eighteen. Little fucking girls, Jon.”
“What’s it to you? You a cop or something? You don’t seem like no cop.”
Stacy’s laughter filled the room.
“A cop? No, I’m not a cop, Jon. Far from it. But I will be serving justice tonight.”
Stacy walked over to her bag and grabbed her snips and duct tape.
Jon’s eyes bulged as all color left his face. It almost appeared to Stacy that he’d turned into a little boy, in a way. No bravado, no yelling, no begging—just a shaking, frightened, cornered little boy awaiting his punishment.
“Jon, I don’t know what happened to you, but—and I mean this—I really do feel sorry for you. But I have a calling, a duty, and this must be done.”
Chapter 12
My head pounded, and I was sure my eyes were sunk deep into my head. De Luca, Lafitte, and I had stayed up all night scanning the net trying to get a bead on Stacy. We’d scoured every hookup site we could dig up. I even had Fingers working on some stuff back home. We’d managed to find
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