Caught in the Crossfire Ch. 05


For those new to this story, it began as a moderate Non-consent/Reluctance type, but is evolving into something different. It will overlap into a number of different story genres before its conclusion—this being the first ‘morphing.’

As for this chapter, specifically, our lovely ‘sexual captive,’ Brittany, looking for more answers to her plight, momentarily turns the tables on Jack.

A warning to casual readers, although not nearly as intense as the last chapter, there is a fairly detailed description of anal sex near the end of this chapter.


For the next four or five weeks, Brittany and Jack settled into a fun routine—well, fun for Jack, at least. Brittany had her moments of joy as well, but she would never admit it outside her loud, orgasmic screams.

The money was always exchanged first, three thousand dollars, as partial payment of her debt, before they both got down to the real business of their meetings. Their fun-time sessions would usually last between two and three hours, but as the weeks past, they were invariably lengthening. Once they renewed their relationship each week, Brittany was always loath to go home, trying to keep Jack with her for as long as she could.

There was only a small bump encountered in their routine, and it occurred the following week after Jack told her about Kellen Wilson and Ashante.

Brittany didn’t greet Jack at the door that next week when he knocked, leaving the door ajar, instead. When Jack entered the room, Brittany was waiting for him, sitting up straight and rigid on the bed. The brown paper bag with the money lay at her side.

When Jack closed the door, she asked him, “Why did you tell me?”

He sat at the small table opposite her. It took him a moment to figure out what she was implying. Finally guessing she had second thoughts about the story. “Don’t get pissed at me. You wanted to know what your husband did. ‘I need to know why I’m here.’ These were your exact words.”

Brittany lowered her eyes. Staring at the floor, she responded, “Last week, I asked him about that Ashante girl…my father, that is.”

“Not Santos?”

She shook her head at first, and then said, “I know that Dad always tells me the truth.”

“And what did he say when you asked him?”

She sniffed back a tear before speaking, “It’s funny, but he remembered. I didn’t even have to give him any details. I just said her name, telling him I remembered the papers were full of her and details concerning her murder, and that I was curious to find out what eventually happened in the case.” She paused for a long moment as her eyes began to water. After wiping the tears away with a hand, she continued, “Anyway, he looked at me in the way he always did, straight in the eye, and told me her boyfriend was arrested for the murder. Then I asked him if the boyfriend was found guilty. He told me that there wasn’t a trial, but justice was handed out just the same. I asked what he meant by that, but he said I shouldn’t concern myself with what happens to the lowlifes of the world.”

Jack didn’t say anything, thinking there was no point arguing it with her anymore. She would believe whatever she wanted to believe, and he was fine with that. He learned a long time ago that most people deluded themselves about life, about family, about friends. Jack concluded that when they denied reality, it was a coping mechanism most people used to maintain their sanity—best to turn a blind eye to the skunk they married, rather than face the consequences of his nature head on, or think about how it reflects on them.

However, Brittany did something unexpected. She threw the bag of money, hitting Jack in the chest with it. Then she asked again, weakly this time, “Why did you tell me?”

Angered by her reaction, Jack picked the bag of money off the floor, and responded harshly and with overt sarcasm, “What the fuck is your problem? Your dad told you what happened, didn’t he? Ashante’s boyfriend stoved in her skull with a pipe, and even though there wasn’t a trial, jailhouse justice was meted out. The bad guy paid for his crimes. Yippee. Three cheers for the boys in blue, they got their man. Daddy told me so, and daddy never, ever lies to…”

She cut him off, almost screaming, “Shut up! Just shut up.” Her eyes were aflame, radiating green daggers of rage at having her pain mocked. When she saw that Jack was stunned into silence, she finished, “I looked into his eyes when he told me the story. I looked into his eyes and knew he was lying to me!” For a moment after her declaration, she just stared blankly at Jack before doubling over onto the floor in abject sorrow and grief.

It was another, all too common reaction seen by Jack during his twenty years on the force; when the family member finally realizes their spouse, their child, their parent is an absolute evil waste of human flesh, their first reaction is to lash out at the messenger. Brittany, acting out at Jack, was her weak version at striking back at the truth.

She was nearly inconsolable for an hour after. All Jack could do was alanya escort pick her up, and hold her in his lap as she wept unceasingly like a little girl, thoroughly dampening his shirt, and his mood.

When she finally got control over her emotions, Jack sat her on the bed, and said, “Let’s forget about our fun-time this week. Neither of us is in the mood.”

As Jack turned to leave, however, Brittany grabbed his hand, saying, “Please stay with me. I’ve nowhere else to go, and don’t want to go home.”

Before Jack could say anything, she pulled him down and kissed him long and hard, and with a passion she rarely, if ever, displayed with her husband.

They ‘played’ together well into the night.


Nothing more was said about Ashante and Kellen Wilson, and as subsequent weeks passed, Brittany came to view their weekly trysts with a degree of cautious interest—if still not comfortable as Jack’s concubine, then, at least, grudgingly accepting of her new role as one.

Although she couldn’t explain it herself, she liked being under Jack’s thumb, particularly since he made her feel special in his own gruff way. Deep down, she knew Jack was a kind man, fucked over by life and circumstance. Consequently, she understood his controlling nature, and made allowances for it. She was being punished for what Santos and her father had done, not just to Jack, but to the others as well. Thus, she accepted the duties she needed to perform as penitence, in order to wipe that sin away.

Yet, the money part she didn’t care for and it weighed heavily on her spirit. The obvious reason being she had to sell her things to scrape up the money every week, and she was loath to sell off all her ‘pretties.’ She felt she earned those over the years, rewards for being a good wife and mother.

‘Yes,’ she told herself, she was a good wife, although flawed for having strayed one time. Just like her husband, who also strayed, and strayed many times with prostitutes, according to Jack. Thus, she felt it unfair she had to pay so high a price—with her belongings, as well as with her body—for her husband’s sin.

Several times, she tried to persuade Jack to take less, but he wasn’t open for a renegotiation of their deal just yet. After that, she rationalized that since the gifts were originally bought by Santos, then the money was really coming out of his pocket, and not hers. In Brittany’s mind, then, Santos was really paying Jack to pleasure her.

Fun as it all was, particularly being subservient to a powerful man that she was becoming attracted to, there came a point where she wanted to be more than Jack’s cash register and plaything.

Was she more than that to him? If so, could she be more than that? So many questions bounced around in her head. She wanted to know more about him as a man. Could he give up control? Did he even trust anyone enough to give up control, and meet him or her as equals? Mostly, she needed to know if he felt the same way about her as she was beginning to feel about him.


So it was that on one of their weekly meetings, Brittany wore that same outfit Jack made her wear on their ride around the city—sans underwear, of course. She knew he liked her dressing this way, but more than that, she liked dressing this way for him. The tightness of the spandex as it molded snuggly to her large breasts and the feel of the fabric of the skirt against her thighs and bare mons, somehow made her feel more womanly.

Brittany gave her buttocks an exaggerated wiggle as she got out of her car and walked toward the motel room. She knew Jack was watching her, she just didn’t know from where. Just before she entered the room, she flipped up the back of her skirt exposing her well-formed, bare ass, and bent over as if she were picking up something off the ground. Standing back up, she looked over her shoulder in a seductive manner and winked, before entering the room.

Jack smiled as he studied her ass from a neighboring parking lot. He was beginning to like her more and more each week.

Starting to think with your dick, ain’t you Jack, he mused, and not waiting the obligatory fifteen minutes to see if she was followed.

Brittany barely waited for Jack to close and lock the door, before asking, “I know it’s not my place and I’m still in your debt, but could we try something a little different this time?”

Jack was wary of her sudden change in behavior; first, her saucy entrance into the motel room, and now a bold request to change plans. Something new was bothering her, and making her act out. It could only mean one of three things. She was having problems with the money, with the sex, or problems at home.

Looking into the paper bag, he saw there was no problem with the money.

Was Santos on to him, and she was trying to hide the fact?

No, if Santos knew, he would have already corrected the mistake he made years ago when he left him alive.

Guessing it was sex, Jack finally answered, “Getting bored of me already?”

“No, it’s not that. I just want to try something different. Do you still carry handcuffs?”

Jack smiled before answering, “That is different. You want to be handcuffed while I do you?”

She ran a teasing finger along his chin, while saying, “They wouldn’t be for me.”

If Jack wasn’t wary before, he is now. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Oh, come on. What are you, scared?”

“Of being handcuffed by the woman I’m blackmailing for money and sex on the side? Yeah, a little bit.”

“Oh, don’t be such a big baby. I’m not going to hurt you. See, no weapons.” Brittany lifted her arms above her head and did a slow pirouette. “Go ahead, frisk me and see that I’m clean.” Lifting up her skirt at the end of her turn, she added, laughingly, “See, nothing under here but my bald pussy. Ooh, maybe I’m hiding a shiv in my butt crack.” Still laughing, she turned around, pushed her rump out at Jack, and spread her buttocks. “See, nothing there but my tight, little ‘winky.’ Satisfied?”

Jack was still wary about her intensions, but he couldn’t help laughing. “Hey, that’s no joke. You’d be surprised where suspects hide things. Maybe I should check inside your pussy for a weapon.”

Brittany jacked her skirt up again while putting a foot on the bed. Toying with her outer labia, she said coyly, “Go ahead and check. Give me a full cavity search. I want you to be perfectly at ease with me. Probe all of me with that meaty nightstick of yours.”

He loved it when the housewives wanted to break out on their own and explore the deep fantasies they may be harboring. Desires they were reluctant to reveal even to their husbands, were easier to fulfill with someone like Jack. It usually took a few fun-time sessions to bring their secret wants to the surface, and Jack was always happy to oblige their little perversions. It made sex with them that much more interesting.

Fulfilling their fantasies also made them easier to control in the end. Sharing depravities always had a way of bonding people together.

Was that all this was, Brittany testing the sexual waters for herself? Was this just her trying to fulfill some cops and robbers fantasy? Jack still wasn’t sure, and that bothered him. “Let me see your purse.”

“Wait…what? I was just kidding about searching me for a weapon.”

Jack examined her purse thoroughly, inside and out, before responding, “I’m not so much worried about weapons, as I am wires…which reminds me, lift up your top.”

“Jesus, you are paranoid,” Brittany commented as she lifted up her spandex top and pirouetted again. “See, no recorders, no wires, no weapons…”

Laughing, Jack grabbed her tits, and said, “No weapons? What do you call these?”

Answering slyly, “Man-handlers. They’re not dangerous, but they are registered.”

Jack remarked, almost as an afterthought, “You know, Brit, you shouldn’t be taking what we do as fun.”

Brittany stared at him incredulously for his flippant attitude. Then, gathering courage from deep within, she slapped him across the face as hard as she could, and raged, “Fun! You call this fun! I find out I’m married to a murderer and thief, and I find it out from a man who treats me no better than a goddamn whore, because that’s the only way he can get back at my murderer husband. I’m in hell, you fucker! When does this start to get fun? Tell me! When?!”

Brittany’s eyes were still smoldering in rage as she wound up to slap him again.

Catching her arm in mid-swing, Jack wrapped her tight in his arms to keep her from hitting him again. Locked in his embrace, all she could do was cry.

Jack waited for her to calm down before responding, “I’m sorry I said that. It just looks like you’re enjoying this too much.”

“So what if I am? What am I supposed to do? If I can’t enjoy some part of this, I’ll go insane. I’ve no one, now. Don’t you see? All I have is you on one side, and my asshole husband on the other. I can’t even talk to Alandra anymore…”

“It isn’t that,” he said, cutting her off, “I just don’t want you getting the idea we’re going to be friends and hang out after all this is over.”

He felt her relax.

Brittany nodded her head, almost reluctantly, before saying, “All I wanted was to feel in control for a bit, and yes, try to have some fun. Is that so bad? Is that so wrong?”

“Is that the reason for changing things up and asking for handcuffs? You want to feel more in control?”

Brittany nodded her head, again.

Jack studied her face for a long time, looking for some clue of any possible, hidden intentions. Brittany just stared back at him, unemotionally. Finally, Jack added, “It would be better to see our relationship as a short term business arrangement, and nothing more. Think of it this way: I’m keeping the elements in your life from spinning out of control while you pay me for that arrangement.”

“I can’t do that. This has to be more than some business transaction for me. I can’t be Whore Incorporated waiting for our weekly mergers. I-I have to feel like I’m more than just a cum dump to you.”

He could think of a half dozen good reasons not to go along with her plan, and only one reason to let her have what she wanted—but what a reason!

Still thinking with your dick, huh Jack.

He smiled while rubbing his face where she slapped him, and said, “Okay, I can understand that, and because you throw a wicked right cross…”

“I’m sorry I hit you,” she interrupted.

“No you’re not, but thanks for the apology, anyway. I can understand your feelings, so…” Jack took his cuffs out of his suit jacket and handed them over to Brittany. “It’s your show. What do you want to do?”

Brittany looked at him with surprise. Jack had caught her off guard. Taking the handcuffs from him, she babbled a bit, “Really? Ah…okay…I, ah…take your suit coat off and lie on the bed.”

Jack teased, “Just my suit coat? Nothing else?”

“Uh-huh. It’s more of a turn on for me if you keep your clothes on; at least to start. Now lie on the bed and put your arms up and against the headboard.”

Brittany looped the cuffs around a wooden crossbar at the top of the headboard before cuffing Jack’s wrists.

Brittany joked, as she stepped back, “There, now I finally feel safe.” Striking a coy pose, with one hip jutted to the side and a finger to her lips, she began, “Let’s see, what should I do first? Hmm…I know, it’s awfully hot in here. I should really get comfy.” With that, she turned away from Jack and undid her skirt.

She didn’t let it fall to the floor, however, but teased Jack as a stripper might. With her head cocked around so that she could watch him out the corner of an eye, she slid her skirt slowly down her backside, gradually revealing her buttocks. She stopped when the top half of her bottom was uncovered, and said, “You’re an ass man, aren’t you?”

Jack was smiling at all her coy teasing when he answered, “I’m an everything kind of man.”

“That may be, but I noticed you haven’t even tried to fuck my tits. I mean, Santos is always begging me to fuck my tits, but you haven’t.”

“Oh, that will change. I can assure you. I’ve just been preoccupied with the other gems of your anatomy.”

“But you are an ass man, aren’t you?”

“I guess. If I had to choose between a woman with a nice set of jugs or one with a perfectly formed behind, I’d probably pick the lady with the great ass.”

Brittany let the skirt fall all the way to the floor, and remained facing away from Jack. Putting her hands on her hips, she gave them a little wiggle while saying, “You told me I wasn’t your type because I had a fat ass. That was mean of you.”

“I may have been overly critical.”

“So, you really don’t think I have a fat ass?”

“It’s a bit wide from my taste, but overall, you have a lovely ass.”

Turning around, she slid the bottom of her spandex top above her breasts. The tightness of the fabric coupled with her arms pressing her breasts together at their sides, made them bulge forward, obscenely. Bending over so that heavy orbs pointed toward the floor, she asked, “Don’t you think I have nice tits?”

Jack just smiled.

Brittany could see the lump in Jack’s pants growing. She smiled back at him, “Would you like to fuck my tits?”

Jack’s smile broadened as he cocked an eyebrow.

Turning around quickly, she spread her buttocks slightly while saying, “Or would you like to fuck my ass again?” Then, facing him again, she put a foot up on the bed and ran her hand along her inner thigh. “Or is it pussy time. I love pussy time.”

“There’s no reason we can’t do all three, and don’t forget about your sweet lips.”

“Oh yes, a little oral delight. You guys and your blowjobs, how could I forget.”

Brittany straddled Jack’s chest. Leaning forward so that her firm tits brushed against his face, she said in a teasing manner, “But I think I’ll decide what we do, now that I’m in the driver’s seat.”

Even through the dress shirt he was wearing, Jack could feel the heat radiating from her groin, and was surprised by how turned on she made herself with her own, slutty banter.

She bent close to his ear so that he could feel the sweet caress of her warm breath against his cheek. Whispering, she commanded, “Suck.”

After dropping one of her breasts close to his mouth, Jack deftly pulled it in. Holding it gently by his teeth and lips, he ran a firm, quick tongue across the nipple. Instantly, the little peg of flesh stood out stiff and hard. Jack grabbed it gently between his teeth, sucking and licking it with abandon.

“Nibble,” she moaned, deeply.

Jack bit and scraped his teeth gently across her nipple and dark red areola. It wasn’t long before he could hear her breath coming as sweet, short and shallow pants, close to his ear.

Brittany moaned, “Yes, suck and lick and bi…oh my…y-yes. The other, now.”

For the longest time, Brittany sat straddling Jack’s chest with her back arch forward, holding both her breasts steady as Jack continually shifted lips, tongue, and teeth between them. Unconsciously, Brittany began shifting her hips forward and back in a short, fucking motion, making her pussy and clit to rake across the buttons of Jack’s shirt.