I walked through the tribe toward the prison, boots thumping on the packed dirt road.
Before I left the longhouse, I'd already asked Lila to get someone on repairing the shop. Turns out she'd started the work even before I opened my mouth about it. Place was almost fixed, she said.
Still… the longer I thought about it, the more I felt like maybe I should hold off reopening. Too much heat on me right now. Too many people watching every move I make.
Didn't take long to reach the gate.
There she was — the guard posted outside.
Tall woman. Arms folded tight across her chest. Face like she'd been sucking lemons for breakfast. Those sharp blue eyes tracked me the whole way like I was a stray dog she already wanted gone.
I stopped right in front of her.
"I'm the Herald," I said. Flat. No extra words.
She didn't flinch.
"No entry without a signed permit from Chief Lila."
I almost snorted. I'd already been inside Lila twice. What fucking permit?
Kept my face neutral though.
"How about we talk in your office? Just us. Door closed."
She stared another beat, then gave one curt nod.
Turned, unlocked a side door, led me down a short hallway into a cramped room — desk, one chair, bare walls. That was it.
Door clicked shut.
I didn't waste time.
"You know exactly who I am. What you're doing right now is stupid."
She turned slowly. That icy look still locked in place, but I caught the tiniest crack behind it.
"I can't let you in. It's for your protection."
"Protection?" One eyebrow up.
"Only women inside," she said, quieter. "Different races. Every kind. Some are dangerous. Some are desperate. Some would kill you for breathing wrong. Some…" She looked away. "…would do worse."
I stepped closer.
"If you won't let me in, then you take responsibility yourself."
Her eyes snapped back to mine.
She swallowed hard.
For a second she just stood there, frozen.
Then she bit her lip.
"I'm… sorry," she muttered.
I tilted my head.
"Can't feel the sincerity yet. You need to show it. With actions."
She blinked. Voice small. "How?"
"Simple." I walked around behind her desk and sat in her chair like I owned it. "I sit here. You get under the table. You suck me."
She stared. Hesitated hard. Cheeks went pink.
Then — slowly — she nodded.
Dropped to her knees, crawled under the desk. Hands shook a little as she worked my belt open, tugged my trousers down enough.
When she took me in her mouth I let out a low breath.
Fuck. Warm. Wet. Hesitant at first, then deeper.
She started slow, lips tight around me, tongue sliding along the underside. I could hear her breathing get uneven. One of her hands slipped between her own legs — rubbing herself through the fabric while she worked me.
Just then the door opened.
A high-ranking officer stepped in — older woman, uniform crisp.
She stopped short when she saw me sitting there.
"Isn't this the honourable Herald?" Surprise in her voice. "What do you need from the prison, sir?"
I smiled easily. Dropped one hand under the desk and patted the guard's head while she kept sucking — slower now, careful.
"Just wanted to take a look around," I said. Voice calm.
The supervisor nodded. "You're welcome any time, of course."
She actually gestured at the chair. "Please, stay comfortable."
I laughed inside my head. Couldn't move even if I wanted to. Absurd fucking situation.
She stepped closer to the desk, talking about some routine thing.
Then she asked, "Where's the guard stationed here?"
I patted the head under the table again — felt her throat muscles tighten around me as she took me deeper, panicking quietly.
"She just stepped out to answer the call of nature," I said.
The supervisor nodded. Dropped a small stack of papers on the desk.
"Tell her to check these when she's back."
She was standing right there — inches away from where the guard was gagging softly on my cock.
The guard shifted, nervous. Desk rocked just a little.
Supervisor frowned. "Did the desk just—"
"Muscle cramp," I said quick. "Kicked it by accident."
She accepted that. Gave a short nod and finally walked out.
Door closed.
I let go right then — came hard down her throat.
She swallowed everything, breathing ragged when she finally pulled off.
"We can't do this here," she whispered, panicked. "We'll get caught."
I smirked down at her flushed face.
"Did you forget who I am? I'm the Herald."
She bit her lip again. Hard.
I stood up, pulled her to her feet, turned her around and bent her over the desk.
Yanked her trousers and smallclothes down in one go.
She was dripping — thighs slick already.
I pushed inside her in one long slide.
She gasped, hands scrabbling at the wood.
"Oh gods— so deep—"
I started thrusting. Steady. Hard enough the desk creaked.
She kept glancing at the door, eyes wide, clenching around me every time she thought about someone walking in.
"Anyone could come in… see me like this… bent over… getting fucked by the Herald…"
Her voice cracked on the last word.
I gripped her hips tighter, drove deeper.
She moaned low, trying to stay quiet, failing.
When I felt her start to shake I reached around, rubbed her clit fast.
She came hard — body jerking, walls pulsing, a choked cry muffled against her own arm.
I followed right after — buried to the hilt and emptied inside her.
Pulled out slow.
Watched my cum start leaking down her thigh.
Gave her ass one firm slap.
She jolted, whimpering.
I reached down, unclipped the ring of keys from her belt.
She didn't even try to stop me.
Leaned over her, kissed the sweaty back of her neck once.
"I'm going to check on those female prisoners now. And if you want round two… you know where my shop is. Herald's Relief."
She just nodded weakly, still bent over the desk, legs trembling, breathing hard.
I walked out first, keys jingling lightly in my hand.
Moved down the dim hallway.
Stopped at the first cell.
Looked through the bars.
My eyes widened at what I saw inside.