Just then, an old man burst in from another room, his face frantic.
“Jane, don’t!” he shrieked, but it was too late. The scanner had detected her fingerprint and the lock popped open with an audible click. The elderly man threw himself against the entryway but Bryan and Blake moved too fast. The door burst open and my two alpha males came rushing in, their nude forms muscled, hard and still erect from the fucking.
“Get away from her,” roared Bryan as he dragged me to safety.
“You two are disgusting,” snarled Blake as he threw a punch at the elderly man.
There was a ruckus and more screaming, but Jane and John Adams were subdued in thirty seconds flat, Blake’s massive form looming over them. He had them trussed up and laid them out like hogs on the floor of their own living room, although Jane Adams’ eyes still flickered hungrily over his naked form.
“You were fucking your brother,” she panted, her eyes eating up the sight of his erect cock.
“Shut up,” Blake hissed. “You’re a drug dealer, who’s going to believe you?” he snarled.
“Jane,” cried her husband. “Why are you focusing on that now? Where’s Valerie? Call the Gordons.”
But Blake and Bryan were having none of that. After depositing me safely in an armchair, Bryan ran back into the basement, coming out fully dressed with a blonde in his arms. She was in bad shape, crumpled in pain, her hair matted and greasy. I also didn’t miss the track marks on her arms and legs, the red streaks painful jags of lightning.
“Look what you’ve done to this girl,” hissed Bryan. “You motherfuckers, treating her like an animal,” he cursed.
“She’s a junkie!” squealed Jane. “She brought it on herself!”
“Addiction is a disease,” growled Bryan, “She needs empathy and rehabilitation, not incarceration in your homemade prison.”
“Her parents didn’t care,” protested John Adams from the floor. “They gave her to us, otherwise Valerie would jeopardize our business.”
I gasped involuntarily, peering closely at the girl in Bryan’s arms. Holy shit, it was Valerie Gordon, Chrissy’s older sister. Hadn’t she been at the pool party just last semester? I shook my head, furiously trying to remember. Why hadn’t Chrissy said something if her sister was missing? This was making no sense.
“Your business is dealing drugs to kids,” said Blake sarcastically. “Valerie was the least of your problems, you took advantage of a child.”
“She’s not a child, she’s twenty years old!” cawed the old woman. “She couldn’t take care of herself, she was causing problems for her parents and they asked us to lock her up.”
“No one should be keeping humans in cages,” said Bryan. “Drug-addled or not,” he shook his head disgustedly.
By now, my head was spinning. The Gordons had permitted their elder daughter to be locked in the Adams’ basement? The Gordons, whom I’d spent so much time with, who’d been like a second set of parents when my mom couldn’t manage?
And Valerie blinked wearily, her eyes cracking open to look at me.
“Callie,” she said hoarsely. “You were next. You were so vulnerable, so needy all the time. They already had a plan for you,” she confirmed.
And with that, I vomited. The realization that I’d been a pawn, that my surrogate family had played me, took the wind out of my sails. I wasn’t wanted … anywhere it seemed.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Brian
The saying that no good deed goes unpunished was true in this case. The drug ring had been busted, its nefarious tentacles chopped off at the root due to our efforts.
“Good work boys,” said the Sarge in the privacy of his office.
“Sure no prob,” said Blake nonchalantly, slumping in his chair. “What’s next?”
The Sarge frowned.
“That’s the problem,” he said. “It seems that Internal Affairs wants to do an investigation of your … ahem, more questionable tactics.”
I sat up straighter. “And what would that be?” It could be several things, but what worried me most was our liaison with Callie. She’d technically been underage when we began fucking, and IAB was full of assholes that would hold your feet to the fire for shit like that.
But the Sarge merely cleared his throat again, looking uncomfortable.
“The Adams say that you were … ahem … having sex with each other,” he mumbled. “As in brother on brother, mano a mano. Is that true?” he asked, squirming in his chair, unable to meet our eyes.
I was angry, but my face betrayed no emotion.
“Why would you ask that Sarge? What makes you ask whether Blake and I fuck each other?”
“Well,” he mumbled. “There was the Russian bathhouse incident a couple years back, and now the Adams are saying that you pounded each other in the basement of their house. Not that I’m saying you did,” he clarified quickly.
My face assumed a hurt look.
“Sarge, you’d believe drug dealers over guys on your own squad?” I said plaintively. “That hurts, that really hurts.”
“I know,” rushed Sergeant Collins. “It’s just that I have to ask because it was in the Adams’ witness statement.”
“Well you can tell IAB to stuff it up their asses,” snarled Blake. “That’s fucking disgusting. If they really think that about us, then we’ll hand in our badges, no prob.”
“Son,” said the Sergeant. “Just tell me it didn’t happen and I’ll get these fuckers off your tail. I find it as offensive as you.”
“Of course it didn’t happen,” I snorted. “It was all playacting to get Jane Adams to unlock the door. We weren’t actually banging each other, please.”
The Sergeant looked relieved. Bisexuality, much less twincest, makes people uncomfortable, questioning their ethics and beliefs at the deepest level. But we’d reassured the Sarge with our macho, no-bull behavior, the same way we’d pulled the wool over so many peoples’ eyes in the past.
“And you didn’t touch the girl either, right?” he asked, more as an afterthought.
“You mean the junkie Valerie?” I clarified.
But the Sarge shook his head slowly.
“No, IAB wanted to verify that you didn’t touch Callie Walsh, the girl who accompanied you to the Adams’ house.”
This was trickier. Blake and I had no trouble lying about the twincest but lying about Callie somehow felt wrong. It was vile to pull an innocent eighteen year-old into this cesspool, especially a girl we loved.
Because we realized that we wanted Callie to be a part of our lives permanently. She was sweet, innocent, and fresh, yet with a womanly air that entranced us completely. Callie had accepted our twin bisexuality, and was also accepting of the career path we had chosen. Undercover police work was necessarily dangerous and there would be long periods where we would be separated. But her graciousness and loving attitude was all we needed.
“Blake, Brian,” she’d said, her voice dulcet. “I guess the Police Academy was just a front?”
My brother shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“Well, we have been to the Academy, it’s just that we graduated a couple years ago,” he said, his cheeks flushing a bit. That was a first. Usually Blake’s unflappable, so smooth with the ladies. But I could see that he was unnerved by our girl calling him out.
“Well, what was that about visiting the precinct then?” she asked. “Did you actually go and talk with some police officers?”
I cleared my throat slightly. “Yeah, we dropped by,” I said slowly, “but we went to see the Sarge, provide an update, you know that sort of thing. It was an opportunity we couldn’t resist,” I clarified.
“So then it was another move from your playbook, wasn’t it?” she said, frowning a bit.
“Yeah, kinda,” I admitted.
“Was I just another means to an end?” she asked, her frown deepening. “A way to get what you wanted?”
“Of course not,” I rushed, the words tripping over my tongue. I too,
wasn’t my usual self, wanting to make a good impression on Callie, to keep her close without getting too much into the take-no-prisoners ethics of police work. “You were something, I mean someone, that happened to us unexpectedly. You were a boon, a lucky break, but we’ve never taken you for granted. You were the best thing about this mission,” I added hopefully.
“But what about breaking up the drug ring? Surely the commendations you’re going to get are the best thing,” she wavered, unconvinced.
Blake let out a deep chuckle.
“Little girl, that’s the thing about undercover work. There’s no recognition for what we do. Our work is never going to be acknowledged, much less exposed. In fact, graduation’s right around the corner and Brian and I are going to walk,” he said with a wry grin.
“Oh really?” said Callie, disbelieving. “You’re going to don the brick and mortar, go up on stage, all that? The mission’s not over already?”
I nodded in confirmation. Like true professionals, Blake and I were tying up all loose ends, dotting every I and crossing every T. To the wider world, we’d just be two more seniors receiving diplomas from Canterdale, two more faces in the crowd.
My brother nodded in affirmation. “Yep, we’re going to walk and we want to do it with you.”
This time Callie flushed, the pink running beautifully up her cheeks.
“I’d like that,” she said softly. “I’d like that a lot,” she repeated, while melting into our arms.
And you can imagine what happened afterwards. Her feminine form was warm and trusting again, her lusciousness providing what our male bodies needed. She gasped in our arms as I lapped at her nipples, my brother’s mouth finding its way to her bottom. When she was wet with his saliva, her pussy slowly leaking cream, we positioned her between us.
“Yes,” she moaned breathily, nude on her hands and knees. “Yes, yes, yes.”
And Blake and I looked at each other over her writhing form. The yesses were gratifying because we had a surprise for her that required a yes – a permanent one at that.
But in the meantime, we were in the throes of enjoying each other’s bodies, and this was an opportunity not to be missed. Blake slowly tilted Callie’s chin down and inched his massive dong into her willing mouth, feeding her until her cheeks bulged, the spongy tip visibly moving down her slender throat.
In the meantime, I thrust two fingers into Callie’s behind, making her jolt, startled, choking in surprise around the hot meat stuffed in her mouth. But what was coming wasn’t easy and I wanted her to be ready. Pulling my fingers out, I massaged her anus, that little pucker loosening slightly around my massive digits.
Swiping her pussy quickly, I lubed up my fingers and stuffed them into her butt.
“Here goes,” I growled, before pushing my shaft against that tiny dark star.
“Unnf!” Callie moaned around the shaft in her mouth as her little anus struggled to accommodate my penis. It was tight, but I forced it, insistently increasing the pressure until with a pop, her rectum gave and I slid in, that veiny girth invading her backside.
“Unnnnf!” she moaned around the dick in her mouth, choking again.
“Keep going, brother,” groaned my twin. “Her mouth tightens when she’s got dick up her butt.”
And so I eased myself in further, caressing her GI tract with my veiny length, pulling in and out, watching with avid hunger as her little hole struggled against the assault of my cock.
“That’s it, little girl, that’s how you take it,” I encouraged roughly, my big hands circling her tiny waist. And I savored the visual of that round, juicy rump, plump and trembling as I violated her ass, her pussy dripping wetly down her thigh. God, this girl was the answer to our dreams.
I want to say that I lasted for hours, but the dry, tight friction was too much and I could feel the pressure building in my balls, the unmistakable crescendo of release.
“Get ready, brother,” I panted, hissing slightly. “I’m about to …”
With a massive roar, I unleashed, the cream spurting forcefully up the little girl’s butt, spraying her insides with hot male jism. My brother found his end as well and his groans joined mine as he orgasmed, his sperm filling Callie’s mouth with white, choking her, the goo seeping from the corners of her mouth as she gasped futilely.
But this was exactly how we liked to see our girl. Filled with life force from both sides, branding her a Hanson girl. Because Callie would be ours … to keep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Callie
The last few weeks have been an unbelievable whirlwind. Despite the fact that Blake and Brian busted a major San Francisco drug ring, life continued as usual on the outside. There were no newspaper stories, no TV spots, not even an article in Canterdale High’s school paper. Like true undercovers, their work was best done out of the spotlight and there would be no recognition for their brilliance.
But I was determined to reward them in my own way. I was in love with these two men, these hotly bisexual twins who rang my every bell and whistle. Our lovemaking had reached new heights after the bust at the Adams house, and the little trailer shook each night with our moans, the scent of sex so strong that it was a permanent musk in our home.
And I took comfort in the arms of my two lovers. Because the Walsh family had truly fallen apart, and I’d given up trying to explain my situation to my mom.
“Ma, I’m getting married,” I said abruptly one day at brunch. “And I’m not going to college.” Might as well drop both bombs at once.
“What do you mean?” she said, an ugly expression on her face. “Don’t tell me it’s to that twin … or one of the twins. How can they provide for you? They’re high school boys,” she said, her face twisted in scorn.
“Ma, you don’t need to worry about us,” I said shortly. “Not that you do,” I added under my breath.
But my mom went on like nothing had changed.
“Don’t you want to be a part of the Sterlings’ world?” she asked plaintively. “You’ll never fit in with a blue collar husband,” she said.
I sighed. She hadn’t even asked which twin I was getting married to, it mattered so little. All that mattered was social standing and making sure that her upcoming wedding to Harold Sterling was the talk of the town. If I showed up on the arm of a police officer, she was sure the world would blow up, that people would talk about her “lowly connections.”
I shook my head again, exasperated.
“We’ll be fine, okay Ma?” I said tiredly. “We won’t ask for money, I promise.”
“Money!” she screeched. “Who said anything about money? I never offered you any financial help.”
“Right,” I said slowly.
“What about the Gordons?” she said. “I know you’re close with their daughter Chrissy. What do they think about your upcoming nuptials?”
This was going to be hard to break. The Gordons had been like a second set of parents to me, surrogates in light of my own dysfunctional clan. My eyes filled with tears because they were nothing like I’d imagined – they’d been running a drug ring in the city, with Canterdale High as a drop-off and distribution point.
And their daughter Chrissy, my best friend. She’d been in on it all along, acting as a courier for her parents, getting rich on the backs of high school junkies.
“Chrissy, why?” I’d asked plaintively, visiting her in jail. She was to be tried as a juvenile, her case bifurcated from her parents. “Why did you guys do this?”
She’d shrugged, her blonde hair glossy even in the dim light of the county jail. Her expression was haughty but she wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Why else?” she sniffed. “Money. We needed it, we couldn’t keep up with everyone else in St. Francis Wood, so Mom and Dad decided to go for it,” she shrugged. “I can’t help that Brian Adams and Tyler Needham got addicted. It was their own fault,” she snapped.
“But you didn’t have to work for your parents,” I said slowly. “You didn’t have
to make drug dealing a family business.”
“I know,” she tossed off nonchalantly. “But Valerie didn’t join and look what happened to her? A junkie in rehab without a penny to her name.”
That was true. Valerie had been in bad shape since her rescue, entering a live-in addiction center in Southern California, her health precarious. But at least there were no charges pending against Valerie, even the DA recognized that she’d caught a bad break.
“Valerie made her choices, and they were hard ones,” I said slowly. “But …” I shook my head. “Why didn’t you tell someone? Why did keep this secret? I would have helped you get out.”
“Oh please Callie,” blew Chrissy impatiently. “Please, your family is a bigger mess than mine, your sister a so-called porn star, your other sister stole her fiancé, all that shit. So don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped.
A stricken look on my face, I turned to go. This was a total one-eighty. Chrissy and the Gordons had always been so kind to me, but I guess it had always been a farce. I suppose they’d never cared about me, I was just an innocent school friend who provided a layer of normalcy to cover their deception.
“Okay,” I said slowly, as the guard arrived at the gate. “I guess this is goodbye then,” I said. “But I wanted to let you know … I’m getting married to Blake Hanson.”
“Oh good,” snarked Chrissy. “That leaves Bryan for me.”
I shook my head again. The cold, hard facts obviously still hadn’t penetrated Chrissy’s head yet. She didn’t realize that she was looking at five years in the slammer minimum. Sentencing was tough, even for minors.
Softly I murmured, “Goodbye Chrissy,” turning to leave.
But only silence followed me, echoing in the jail cell. I really was dead to my closest friend, our ties severed forever.
EPILOGUE
Callie
Nothing will bring Tyler Needham and Brian Adams back. They live on in our memories as nice boys who met untimely deaths, Brian on the football field and Tyler after an unexplained fainting spell. Only a few know the terrible truth – that they were innocent boys drawn into a dark web of greed, lies, and crime.
Beg Me: Sold to My Dad's Boss Page 21